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#so keep your eyes out for the summary post(s)
pedrostylez · 2 days
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I’m Here When You Need Me
Joel Miller x f!reader One Shot
Warnings:Angst, feelings, longing, cheating on the readers part, Joel just wants you to be happy, high key hating reader’s husband, age gap mentioned (Joel is in his 50’s, no reader age), insecurities, mentions of body and working out, insecurities, nipple and breast play, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected piv sex ( wrap it people), oral f recieving, I think that’s it
Word Count: 4.1k
A/N: this has had minimal edits and I’m posting from my phone so don’t be judging me!!!! Heed the warnings. I hope you guys enjoy 😊
He’s at it again, dreaming of you wrapped around him. Soft to the touch, warm and needy, just how he likes you.
The telltale sound of his phone wakes him from the comfort of his dreams, vibrating through the pillow to his ear. When he squints his eyes to see your name on the screen, his heart freezes for a moment. You don’t typically call, so it must be important. “Hello?” He sounds groggy, and he hears your pause before a deep sigh. He knows you feel bad for calling him, even though you knew he would be asleep. “What is it, baby?”
“Don’t call me that.” You hiss, breath coming quickly through the receiver, the sound of your teeth biting at your nail.
“Are you alone?” He asks, now sitting up in bed. He’s used to a rogue text here and there, asking if he’s home so that you can slip out while your husband is asleep, or at work. He’s never texted you first, never been the initiator except for the once when he first spotted you in the bar. But a phone call in the middle of the night? Unheard of.
“Yeah.” You sigh, frustration clear in your voice.
He frowns, rubbing at his chin and shuffling out of bed. “Door’s open, baby.” It slips out, and he winces, figuring you’ll correct him again. He can’t help it.
You don’t say anything about the nickname, just give him a quiet goodbye and an ETA.
He doesn’t bother to remake the bed, doesn’t bother to clean up anything. He used to; used to make sure all the dishes were done and that the floor was swept for you. He was embarrassed, a 50 something year old man still living alone and had somehow gotten your attention. He wanted to leave a good impression.
But after enough times of you storming in, how you would grab around the collar of his shirt and thrust yourself at him to feel something, to distract you from whatever issues you were having with him, he stopped worrying.
A habit he shouldn’t get into, but he knew you would come around again and again.
Joel flicks on the outside light, looking out the curtain briefly before sitting on the couch and turning on the TV. He keeps the sound low, listening for the sound of your truck to pull up next to his. His pants are low, riding just below the elastic band of his underwear, loose and warm under the flannel.
He sighs, switching the channel and scratching at his incoming beard. He doesn’t know what mood you’ll be in, what you’ll want, but trying to wake himself up after a long day on the job is all he can do to prepare for you.
The sound of your door slamming has him turning his head, listening to your sneakers shuffle on his brick pathway. The pause at his door, where he swears he can hear you take a deep breath before twisting the knob and letting yourself in.
Your hair, swept to one side and down, loose, wild, has his mouth upturned out of habit. He loves you wild. “Hey.”
“What’s going on?” He asks quietly, letting you shut his front door and slip your sneakers off. He doesn’t dare move, afraid that he might scare you off by being too concerned. You’re in your own set of pajamas, loose shirt and flannel pants with a sweatshirt zipped in the front.
When you sit beside him, you lean into him with your head on his chest. One, two, three big breaths leave your mouth as he wraps an arm around you. It gives you the courage to say what you came here for. “I don’t think he loves me.”
Joel’s heart sinks, the sound of your voice defeated. His arm squeezes around you, looking down to the crown of your head. “No, baby that’s not true.” It slips out again, and he closes his eyes to try and recenter himself. Stop calling her baby.
“He won’t even look at me anymore.” You say again, tilting your head to look Joel in the eye. You’ve accepted it, eyes not shimmering with sadness. “He says he wants me but…never initiates. It’s like I’m begging just for an ounce of attention.”
Joel holds his face neutral, his blood boiling. He wants you, he would give you the attention you deserve. He knows that’s why you’re here, that’s why you called–
“I don’t think he finds me attractive anymore.” You whisper, an uncommitted shrug before you bury your head back against his chest.
Joel rubs his hand up and down your back, looking up toward the TV for a moment. Reruns of Seinfeld, laugh tracks and a bright screen fill his senses. He keeps quiet, keeping his hand moving to reassure you before he says, “I think the world of you.”
You shake under his arm with a brief chuckle, resting your hand on his stomach and swirling, swirling, swirling your finger around his belly button.
He resists sucking his stomach in, knowing you’ll chastise him like you have before. He wants to hold you, body against body to prove to you how much he wants you. “Do you want to go lay down with me?” He asks quietly, feeling your hair slide away from his arm as you pull away from him.
“Sure.” You reach for the remote, clicking off the screen and unzipping your sweatshirt. You turn to him, smirking as you step in the direction of his bedroom. “Just to sleep?”
“If that’s what you want.” Is his immediate answer. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve come to his door just wanting to fall asleep on his chest; he wouldn’t mind it in the least, just to have you next to him.
But the way you smile, the way your eyes shimmer with want, he knows that isn’t what will be happening.
No, not when he turns off all the lights and heads to the bedroom and finds you already under the covers. Your quiet voice asking him to turn off the lights is new, but he obliges.
He fumbles to the bed, getting under the covers and hearing your giggle when you reach for his hand and place it on your breast. He laughs as well, swiping his thumb back and forth over your nipple until it is taunt, peaked against the pads of his fingers. He presses his mouth to your jaw, lightly pinching to hear your whimper against his ear.
He sighs happily, groaning when your fingers wrap around his cock through his pajamas. Your hands are warm, pressing heat into him in ways he misses when you’re gone. He lets his fingers drift down your side, counting your ribs quietly to himself. “Let me see you, baby?” He inquires, letting his lips run down the column of your throat, pressing deeply into the curve of your collarbone.
He feels your tension, the way you freeze for only an instant before going back to your loosened and easy going movements. “What? Don’t like surprises?” You question, squeezing your hand around the head of him briefly before pushing down his pants.
He springs free, your fingers lightly dancing down his shaft making him groan. He wants to tell you that it’s not that he doesn’t like surprises, but he wants to watch you. He looks down, blankets haphazardly in the way, only giving him a peek at what your hand is doing around him.
It feels like heaven, your hand with small calluses at the base of each finger. The smoothness of the rest, silky and enticing pumping up and down, your thumb swiping at the weeping hole to spread some of the wetness around.
He moves the sheet out of the way, letting his eyes trail to your chest before looking up at you as his tongue pokes out, circling the same nipple from before. Your mouth opens in awe, eyes fluttering shut and head thrown back. “J-Joel–”
“Let me see you.” He’s muffled against your skin, flicking his tongue against you and letting his fingers drift further and further down. Joel’s fingers brush over the hem of your underwear, and he can’t help the smile that grows on his face as you giggle. He knows it’s ticklish there, just as he dips his fingers into the humid skin beneath.
Your breath hitches, eyes opening more fully as he moves the blankets with his arm. He notices how you watch it, suddenly self conscious as your legs start to spread for him. “I’m cold, Joel.”
He pauses, letting only the knuckle of his first two fingers continue their movement under the strain of your underwear. You’re slick, his fingers easily moving over your clit with a laziness that he knows you like. You don’t want to be rushed-ever; it’s why you go to his place to begin with. “I’ll warm you up.”
“N-no.” You close your eyes, shaking your head as if falling out of this fantasy. “I want the blankets up here.”
Joel’s fingers pause now, head tilting up to you and frowning. He can see you more clearly now, his eyes having adjusted to the street lamps that filter through his curtains. You’re almost naked below him, frowning with your eyes downturned, looking toward his hand instead of his face. He brings his other hand up, tilting your chin to look directly at him. “What’s wrong, baby?”
You attempt at a scoff, but he’s not buying it. “I’m cold, I told you–”
“You know I think you’re beautiful, right?” He gruffs, frown going deeper as he sees you shake your head. “You know I like to see how you react, touch you, look at you. Why do you want to be covered?”
“I’ll just put my shirt back on.” You snarl, teeth coming out to bite as you lean over the side of the bed, reaching for the shirt you had tossed off before he followed you into the bedroom.
His fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your arm back and holding you to the bed. Unable to roll, you wiggle under him, pulling your hand free to reach again. When he catches you again, you groan unhappily, getting into a pulling and pushing match with him.
He’s stronger than you, the creases in his forehead deepening as he let’s you get away enough times to tire you out, but not letting you escape his question. “Quit fightin’ me, and tell me what is going on.”
Your hands are secured to the pillows below you, breasts bouncing from the intensity of it and your deep breaths. He can’t help how his eyes trail down, wanting to look at you, but seeing you squirm uncomfortably.
You stay silent, glaring at him and then looking to the ceiling as if you’re just going to ignore the question. Joel sighs, annoyance bubbling up in him and trying to tamp it down. It clicks suddenly in his head, that something must have been said to you. “Why do you want to be covered?”
Your eyes trail back to his, your furrowed brow slowly relaxing, the tension in your arms reducing to where Joel releases his grip and lets his fingers trail down to hold your torso. His hands wrap around you, his thumbs stroking at the soft skin under each breast. He’s not sure if your eyes are shimmering with tears, or if it is just a trick in the light when you say, “He…he asked if I had been working out lately.” You swallow, shaking your head. “A-and when I said no, he…he said ‘that’s obvious.’”
Joel’s breath comes quickly, his fingers subconsciously digging into your skin to hold himself steady. He said what? He can’t help but stare at you, waiting for more to come, but you just stare back with a slow buildup of tears in your lash line.
Another moment of silence before you’re sniffling, bringing a hand up to cover your eyes as if embarrassed. Joel releases you as he feels your body shutter, pulling the blankets up around you both and moving his fingers to cradle your head. He lets his dull nails scratch at your scalp, shushing and cooing at you until you’re pressed against him, naked skin on skin in a humid cloud under his blankets.
He lets you cry; it’s the first he’s really ever seen you do so since meeting you. You’ve always been strong, secure and confident in how you present yourself. He found it off putting, in some ways-he had never been with a woman that didn't need him. He was used to being the provider. But you’d always taken care of yourself, came and went as you pleased, and didn’t ask for anything else.
His heart swells with want. “You’re alright baby, I’ve got you.” He husks, moving his fingers to the back of your neck and massaging at the tense muscles there. “He’s a fucking moron, you know that don’t you? You’re beautiful, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
You shake your head, tears having stopped and a small smile making its way across your face. “No I don't, Miller.”
“You do.” He relents, tilting his head down to look at you again. Red eyes and wet lashes, but otherwise okay. His thumb runs under your eyes, absorbing tears from your face almost instantly. “He shouldn’t be speaking to you that way.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not a big deal. He’s right, it’s probably why our marriage isn’t going great.”
“That’s not true.” He says immediately, letting his thumb drift to your lower lip and pull it down briefly. “You think your marriage isn’t going well because he doesn’t find you attractive?”
“Among other things.” You sigh, now back to your previous demeanor. Your fingers are dancing over his chest, swirling his chest hair around. “Joel, it’s fine.”
“It’s not.” He argues. “You’re someone any decent man would want. How can he just–”
“Please just, let’s move on.” You cut him off, pressing a flat palm firmly into his chest.
He closes his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose to calm himself down from giving a full lecture. He wants you to understand, to hear him fully. You deserve better than what you have.
You both lay there silently for a moment, just breathing together and not moving. He keeps his eyes on yours, watching yours flick down to his mouth and feeling the way you minutely move towards him. He doesn’t dare move, wanting you to be the one that initiates.
Your hand is gentle against his lower stomach, gliding down again to his now softened cock. It stirs, easy to respond to you. Joel stops your hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes.” You’re breathy, pupils having gone wide as he lets go of your wrist. It doesn’t take him long to get hard again with how you move your hand, his mind both empty and racing with thoughts.
When you roll on to your back, offering a silent invitation for him to get on top, he’s eager to let his legs tangle with yours and settle between your thighs. He presses his mouth to your collarbone, trailing down below the blanket as you wished for before, his tongue peeking out when he gets to your core.
You sigh happily when his tongue meets your clit in slow, agonizing circles. He prefers to watch you when he does this, eyes up on your face as his tongue swoops back and forth, over and over the hood of your clit until you’re squirming and reaching down to fist at his hair. He likes watching your neck shine with a thin layer of sweat, the way your hair begins to stick to your face and your eyes closing tightly to just feel him.
But right now he’s below the covers, holding one leg down and open to better feast on his meal, the other reaching up and intertwining his fingers with yours. The hand not in his must be bracing yourself against his headboard, your moans muffled by the sheets and blankets surrounding him.
He lets his tongue dip into you, squeezed briefly by your walls and the yelp you let out makes him chuckle. You never expect the first intrusion, spreading your legs wider to let his shoulders be flat against you, his laugh vibrating against your skin.
He continues this pattern, dipping into you with his tongue, circling your clit, and back again. He doesn’t know how long it goes on for, over and over to the point that he’s closed his eyes to feel you instead of watching you. His cock is hard between his legs, pressing against the end of his mattress and begging to be touched by your hand.
There’s a gust of cool air as you lift the sheet away from him, tossing it to the cold side of the bed and reaching down to his hair. He groans again, missing the feeling of your hand on any part of him, and he winces at the tug you give.
You’re pulling him up, wanting his lips on yours and for him to cover you. He obliges, pressing his lips to yours and grabbing at your thighs to lift around his middle. It would be embarrassing, how hard he is for you right now, pressed to your center and grinding against the slick that he left there, but he can’t care right now.
You want him, and that’s his priority; keeping you wanting him.
“Taste so sweet, baby. You want a little?” He says gently against your lips, pressing into your again and letting his tongue sweep into your mouth. You moan, a high and breathy sound that he loves. “That’s right, you like that, don’t you?”
He waits for your nod of approval, how you lunge for his mouth again and happily kiss his lips and jaw as he adjusts his hips to better line himself up with your center. “Joel, please, get inside me already.”
“Impatient.” He mumbles, smirking at you and tilting his head to bite at your ear. He knows you’re ticklish there, wanting to hear your laugh another time before he fills you and loses all sense of himself inside you.
He feels you tilt your hips for him, letting your half-lidded eyes meet his. The head of his cock weeps, aching to be inside you. Joel moves himself to let his head rest against your waiting entrance, beginning the slow slide in.
He can’t stop the thoughts in his mind, racing around in circle. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Once fully seated inside, you both groan in unison, his arms strained to pull away just enough to look down to where you both are connected. “Fuck.” He bites out, looking back up to your face and letting one hand rest on your jaw. “You’re so fucking perfect around me.”
“Joel, move honey.” You whine, reaching out to his shoulders and pulling him back to you. Your nails dig into the taunt muscle, the feeling soothing him.
Honey.
You don’t call him that unless you’re in a different headspace–where you forget the circumstances of why you’re here. It was difficult early on for Joel to get you to relax, even though the act itself made you like putty in his hands. No, he focused on you mentally relaxing, truly forgetting your worries. When you were like this, he could say what he meant. “You’re so perfect baby.” He strains, thrusting into you at a slow and methodical pace. His hips press into the backs of your thighs, his fingers holding around your jaw tighter. “So fucking wet, you wanted this, huh? Wanted me to fuck you like this?”
You nod as he speeds up, the sound of your skin slapping against his now more prominent, the frame of the bed creaking quietly behind it. I love you. I love you. I love you.
He has to stop himself from saying it. The first time he had, he thought it would be the end of whatever the two of you had going. It had slipped out over six months ago, on your way out the door after riding him on the couch.
“I love you.” He had said quietly, watching you redress after climbing off of him.
You turned to him, a half smile on your face. “No, you don’t.” You said simply, waving at him and going on your way. He didn’t expect you to call him after that, and was shocked when just the next night you were on his doorstep waiting for him after work.
And now you’re below him, and just as every time before after that first admission, he wants to say it again. You’re crying out, asking him to come instead of announcing you’re going to, and he speeds up his movements. “You wanna finish around my cock?” He asks, his voice unrecognizable. “I’ll let you, go ahead baby. Let me see it.”
You nod, tears brimming your eyes again for a different reason than before. He feels you tighten in waves around him, sucking him in further as he tries to hold himself back. Joel continues to pump his hips, his lower back tingling with his own release ready.
“J-Joel–” you moan, digging your nails deeper into his shoulder. “Come inside me, pl-please.”
He grunts, forgetting himself and pushing forward with a whine he’s never heard leave his mouth. His eyes close as his come coats your walls, warm and welcoming of it. Joel rests his forehead against yours, sweaty skin pressed to sweaty skin, smiling down at you and breathing heavily. “Fuck baby–”
“Don’t call me that, honey.” You tease, eyes fluttering shut and an award winning smile spreading across your face.
He pulls out, wincing at how tight you are around him still, resting on his side and letting his arm wrap around your middle. “Stay?” He asks quietly, watching you turn your head and opening your eyes to look at him.
You think for a moment. “I need to clean up, and then I’ll decide.”
He grunts in disapproval, letting you slip out of his grasp and step into the ensuite bathroom. The light blinds him briefly, your ass the only thing he can see as you lean over the sink to get a closer look in the mirror. Joel props his head up, watching as you push up on the balls of your feet to get closer, your arms coming out to the door frame and leaning over to look at him. “Do you have wipes?”
He had bought some after the first few times of you being there, asking every time if he had any. He had got you to say what brand they were, and he kept them stocked now. “First drawer on the right.”
You hum happily, pulling out a face wipe and turning back to him, watching him as you scrub at your forehead and cheeks. “Did you want to clean up?”
He shakes his head. “Want to keep you on me, if you don’t mind?”
You smirk, rolling your eyes as if you don’t care. When you finish, you flick the light off and walk toward the bed, Joel blinded briefly from the change in light. “Where’d you go, baby?”
“I’m here.” You whisper, shifting the bed as you climb in and pull the covers from the other side to cover you both. You’re still naked, now cooled skin against him. “I’ll stay, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” He whispers back, smiling to himself and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, enjoying how you snuggle into his body and neck, fitting perfectly with him. “I’d let you stay as long as you want. You know that.”
You sigh, circling your fingers against his chest hair. “What if…” you trail off, fear taking hold of your voice in a way that makes Joel uncomfortable. He squeezes an arm around you, waiting. “What if I’m too scared to have things change?” You whisper, tensing in his arms.
Joel remains relaxed, his mind swimming with I love you, I love you, let me love you. He sighs, pressing another kiss to your head. “I’m here for when you need me, if you want me.” He says quietly, feeling you relax in his arms again.
Your eyelashes flutter against his skin, your breath slowing down and becoming deeper. As you fall asleep, Joel swallows harshly. He’s here when you need him, and it was never going to change.
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To hunt or be hunted #4
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Truth unveiled, Alastor being unusually touchy, Lucifer being himself. Warnings: Mentions of child death.
Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink
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One year and seven months left. You reminded yourself while watching the black snake tattoo that slowly made its way up your arm, soon it would reach your heart and all would be over.
“Ten years, you work for me at my Hotel, and if I can’t manage to convince you to find something good to do with yourself, I’ll set you free” Charlie’s voice resonated in your head, it made no sense, but the true meaning of the deal was that if she could manage to help you find a reason to continue living, you would have a permanent home at the hotel.
If she couldn’t, you would have your soul back, and then the snake takes care of ending your suffering.
A swarming of feelings and thoughts came from thinking about the countdown, “It’s probably the best” who was going to miss you anyways? No one did back at the living world, your daughter died post-partum, your husband had died because of his sins, most of your friends at the time flew overseas looking for a better life, and there was no family left to mourn you.
Still isn’t.
Your father and your husband were most likely around in hell somewhere, in a hundred years you haven’t bothered to check, probably ended up repeating the same pattern: Gambling, debts, death.
May was a dreadful month, Mother’s day, your daughter’s birth and death anniversary, and just by the end of it, your birthday. Turning 40 is bad, but imagine turning 140 years old, that is worse.
You died at 35 years old in the 1920’s, since that to now it’s been 104 years, plus your age at the time 139, now turning 140. “It’s a blessing that I stayed looking the age I died in, otherwise I would be looking worse” you outlined your hips with your hands while straightening the leather straps around your waist.
‘Y/n, can you come to the parlor please?’ you heard Charlie speak through. You immediately knew what was going to happen, giving that it was nine Am sharp, and you weren’t summoned to make breakfast.
She either told them, or Angel was going to be fried alive.
Just as you guessed, there was Charlie in front of the fireplace, as the rest, except Alastor, looked rather hurt and shocked, specially Lucifer and Vaggie.
“You called?” the smoke cleared, making yourself appear sitting on the couch next to Charlie. A gasp found its way out of Vaggie’s throat before anyone could say anything. The angel collected her thoughts and then she was able to speak.
“Charlie, what the fuck is the AXE-MAN DOING IN THE HOTEL!” Vaggie didn’t doubted a second to stand before her with the spear pointing at you, “She’s the chef of the Hotel” Charlie smiled weakly, trying her best to stay collected. “Since when?” the feline bartender asked, not minding your presence very much.
“Before it started actually, eight years now?” she turned to you for confirmation, which you nodded affirmatively. “And you hid this, because…?” Angel’s turn to ask. Charlie was in shambles trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t raise more questions, but failed, so you interceded.
“We made a deal; we don’t need to disclose the details, but it made her feel guilty” she shot you an unamused look before turning to her partner, her hand softly tracing the outline of her cheek.
“How come you got angry at me for lying to you, but you keep this kind of secret, honey?” ‘Oh hell no’ master or not, you weren’t going to allow that girl to talk to her (or anyone) like that.
“Hey now, whether she wanted to tell you or not it’s my and her business, but you hid the fact that you are an angel, worse than that a murderer, and no better than us sinners, so don’t act all hurt because now you two are even” your eyes lit up as the staring began to feel more lie a threat towards the fallen angel.
“You knew?” she diminished the distance between her spear and your neck, not earning a single flinch on your part, “One piece of advice, your golden blood leaves a trail, and the stench is very… specific, those like me that are used to blood can tell the difference” Alastor nodded in agreement.
“Why didn’t you tell me” Charlie sounded suspicions not hurt, to no one’s surprise really, “Last thing I knew I was a chef, not the gossip press” you took a look back to Vaggie, using a finger to lower the spear with zero effort, “Besides, wasn’t my secret to disclose” you winked an eye.
“Wait hold on, what makes the Axe-man want to work in a place for redemption?” Lucifer questioned, now more relaxed, he was all and hellfire before thinking you had taken her daughter’s soul. “She’s…kind of…forced to be here” another gasp.
Everyone turned to you, “I’m not ashamed of it, I got my ass kicked by miss sunshine here, lost my soul in the process and now I’m the chef” all except you and Charlie laughed, tearing up a little too.
“Charlie doesn’t own a soul, don’t be stupid, she’s lying right, Charlie?” Lucifer, watched his darling, perfect daughter image crumbled when all she could respond to that was a quiet shameful nod.
“YOU OWN A SOUL?” the shock was understandable.
It was too much for Lucifer so he sat beside you, holding his head on his hand, “Before you all judge her, I was stupid enough to challenge her when Lilith had just left, she was in a very dark place, my timing was terrible”
“How dark?” the king whispered your way, “I was her punching bag” he muttered a ‘oh shit’ both impressed and somewhat feeling guilty. They both had similar eyes when it came to pain.
“The infamous Axe-Man of New Orleans, I must say I am a big admirer of your work” Alastor came forward, grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. “Oh, how unfortunate” he knew your name from above, so he lived around or in New Orleans.
“Why would you say that? You made an entire state fear your axe, for years there was nothing but jazz playing in the streets at night, and what’s best you were never identified nor caught” he pulled you from your seat, hitting his chest, his cane disappeared, leaving his free hand to sneak behind to hold your back in place.
“Well, I’m not that person anymore” Alastor drank in your scent, the sweetness burning its way down his lungs.
Every fiber, every hair on his body, told Alastor to run. Animal instinct, a deer in the jaws of a lion, a prey in front of a carnivore. Maybe because of the post-battle adrenaline he didn't feel the same instinct when you helped him. What will you feel with him so close? hunger? anger? lust? Curiosity ate him alive, he wanted to know what was telling you your instinct, how would it feel to be eaten by you.
“What made you bury the hatchet?” Angel’s pun made you smile, “Alastor” still in his arm, you felt him shift. “When you made yourself…present in hell, young, power hungry and all that, something inside me just told me that it was time to stop” ‘or else it was going to end with blood’ you thought. 
“Also before all this, I had heard about the cannibalistic murderer” you were aware of his aberration to touch, but given his closeness, you had no choice. Both of your hands settled on his hips, mostly for leverage, but to see how he would react to you.
“What an honor, I must say your performance inspired mine” his smile twitched, specially after feeling your warmth though his coat.
“You’re insulting me, Mr. Heartfelt” his chest tightened, a growl emanated from your throat, subtle but it made Alastor’s mind cloud a little. Focusing on your dilated pupils at all times to read any sign of warning, he saw nothing, no emotion whatsoever.  
“Your act was sloppy, careless. The bullied that became executioner of his bullies, tell me, do you feel better?” He didn’t understood what you were implying, once he tasted human meat he just couldn’t stop. He never asked himself if he was content, or if the blood made him feel better.
“You only targeted Italian mobsters; I’d say that’s rather sloppy” that’s all he could think, “And yet I didn’t allowed myself to be shot in the head” there was a weird aura surrounding you and him.
The situation was charming, two assassins of excellence, powerful Overlords with influence and stigma. Despite their sins, they were beautiful beings full of life and grace. Lucifer couldn't help but feel a tingle on his back watching such a scene. It seemed like they were going to devour each other, and relish in it.
“Disappointed?” your fangs shined with the firelight. “A little” he answered, expecting you to be more sanguinary, just as you used to be. “I’ll make Jambalaya today if that makes you feel better” but no matter what he did, while froze in place, like a deer in headlights, you couldn’t make him feel less excited, so alive.
“Thank you chérie, what about my work as of late?” reluctantly he let go of you, taking both of your hands in his.
“Very entertaining” he has a very slim waist, and yet it felt strong under your fingertips, warm. He has his hands and forearm blackened, just as his legs must be. The rest of his skin must be of that beautiful cream color. Of course, his chest wasn’t bald, like you he has a thin layer of short and soft fur.
“Get a room” Lucifer broke the moment, making Alastor’s eyes turn into the demonic radio stare you knew so well, “Funny I didn’t think such a tiny person could have a massive mouth” he then stepped away. Was it normal to be cold? Your body missed his closeness.
“Here he goes again, how about you help me with breakfast munch-king?” Lucifer felt his jacket being pulled off the couch, dragged by it towards the door that lead to the hallway to the kitchen, “Did you seriously called me that?” he allowed that, with a smirk he gave Alastor the finger.
“Want me to sing the song too?” you warned with a smile, “You wouldn’t dare-” your arm hugged his small frame into your side as you started to mock him, “Ding Dong the witch is dead!” you started, dragging the king down the hallway, “STOOP!” that was the last thing the crew heard before the door closed behind you.
🍎📻
“So, you challenged my daughter?” you hummed a yes, “She took the split a bit bad, huh?” on the corner of your eye you could see him sit on the kitchen island, just a few inches from where his daughter had hurt her hand.  
“I’ll send you my medical bill” your sarcasm made him laugh a little, “You don’t look like you belong in the sin of pride, yours must be wrath, isn’t it?” do demons look accordingly to their sins? You didn’t knew, “You tell me, I have yet to allow myself to ponder over what I have done”.
“I think I didn’t introduced myself, please forgive me” you left the kettle under the fire and walked over him, “My name is Y/n” you extended your hand to him, he took it with a smile. “Lucifer Morningstar, you may call me however it pleases you” his touch was gentle, but firm, you could feel his pulse though his gloves.
A thought tickled your brain, “In that case, would you like sugar or honey in your tea, Samael?” his eyes shifted, his horns grew. Like wood, like wood, his gaze was the same as his daughter's, and yet they harbored both hatred and sadness, both as deep as an abyss.
It shot an intense wave of electricity up your spine. You stood in front of the biggest predator in all of hell.
“Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to get a reaction out of you” he hadn’t let go of your hand, nor squeezed it, “I apologize, my king” your free hand caressed over the fabric.
He pouted, still not letting go of your hand. “If you let me touch your ears, I may forgive you” he turned back, you caught the sight of his tail slithering inside his pants.
“Sure, but please don’t get too close to the inside, my instincts are very strong and unforgiving, I would hate to have your blood on my uniform” You couldn't even finish speaking when he pulled your hand, immediately starting to touch the fur surrounding your ears. His knees settled on either side of your hips, taking advantage of the extra height the furniture provided.
“So soft, it’s so weird, a lion sinner, usually it’s a loyal, brave and true creature, heaven material” the sensation made your heart flutter. You felt like a dog, which made your ego bruise up a little, but at the same time his hands were warm and gentle, he took your advice and avoided the areas that you mentioned.
“Anyways, you’re forgiven, again, you’re very soft” Another cold feeling due to loss of touch, how annoying. You swallowed a lump of saliva before you could speak again, “Thank you, I take care of myself”.
“Oh and the note, thanks, it hasn’t been easy” he didn’t eased the pression on your hips,  “Marriage ain’t easy, and being apart after thousands of years must be rough” it’s not like the closeness bothered you, but it grant him a cocky smile and a sense of power over you, that feeling brought back the feeling of looking like a dog.
“I just…I wish I could make it up to Charlie” his hands grabbed one of yours, fidgeting with your fingers and the palm. “If it makes you feel more at ease, the sole fact that you’re here partially does more than enough” the light in his eyes lasted a few seconds, it was a lovely sight.
“Partially?” worried? Understatement. “If I say it you can’t hit me or anything” he made an X over his heart, then his hand went back to yours.
“She lied to you and you just went along with it? Parenting 101, mutual respect: she doesn’t lie and you don’t either” he applied a light pressure to your hand pads, making your claws come out and retract, that seemed to amuse him.
“So I have to…ground her?” his golden gaze went up to your eyes, but you were far too concentrated in his movements. “Well not now, but maybe speaking with her about it might be the right course of action”.
Melancholy, he had a feeling so he went for it.
“You were a parent?” he was right, your pained expression lasted a second but it was enough for him to feel a pang on his side. “For a day and a few hours” your eyes darkened, as it they were lost in a thought. The warmth of his hand on your cheek and a soft ‘My condolences’ brought you back.  
“I just know appropriate parenting by taking my parent’s example and do the opposite” you masked your pain with a smile and a smart remark, just like him, “Yeah, me too” his response made you scoff, “Where would you’ve sent you daughter for this kind of idea, Heaven?”.
Laughter filled the room. He wouldn’t do such a thing, nothing Charlie did would make Lucifer banish her anywhere, much less punish her like that for trying to help others.
“I had a different perspective of you” your tail stiffened around your leg, “What, a soulless maniac killer and nothing more?” you used to be like that. He laughed, “I mean, soulless indeed” you ruffled the hair that fell on his forehead, “But I’m glad I was wrong, thank you for taking care of my daughter, I see she trusts you a lot” you wouldn’t call it trust, nor she relied on you much.
Now that you think about it, taking care of her was instinctive, “I just grew used to her this past eight years” he smiled, “Thank you” he sensed the shift in you, the situation tensed up very quickly.
“Don’t, and just to be fully open about it, you were my objective” you would never show your fangs to anyone, looking like an animal doesn’t give you the right to act like one.
“Wait really?” his lips twitched, almost smiling. “I thought if I bruised up your daughter you would appear, but you saw how that ended” he hummed, rather amused. Your intimidation did nothing to him.
“Are you strong enough?” his question, he was insulting you? “Are you offering to fight?” you looked  at him up and down, not a trace of malice. “I mean if that’s what you wanted?” he was willing to fight with you? “I…I knew I wasn’t strong enough, nor I am now. To be honest, I wanted to pass to history as a crazy bitch who died at the hands of the devil”.
‘I’m oversharing, shut up’ you took a deep breath, adjusting yourself in between his legs, “I see” his breath hit your skin, “Now I just do this, and I’m fine with it”.
“I’d say, you’re terrific in the kitchen, no matter if it’s a served cold or hot type of dish, you always make it taste like home” your ears flattened against your head. “Thank you” he then looked up from your hand once again, a tender pink hue adorned your cheeks.
“Anyways” you got rid of his touch, as well as separated his knees just enough to walk a few steps backwards, “I have to make breakfast, and I just pulled you away because your constants fights with Alastor has gotten old very quick” you walked away, taking your white apron off the hanger, then tied a lovely bow on your back with the laces.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, see you later then” was that disappointment? You didn’t knew, and couldn’t care as long as your body remained trying to shake off the excessive heat, and the phantom of his touch still lingering. “Fuck” thinking about it made you cut your finger with a knife.
-------------------------------------------------
Stay tuned :3
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angeliczuko · 2 days
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"I got my eyes on you"
Summary: Dazai realizes how gloomy you have been, especially during both yours vacation ,,,what will they do to make their sweet s/o feel better?
Genre: fluff, hurt to comfort
Warnings: reader is sort of workaholic and very tired, implied depression, basically him comforting you when your at your lowest <3
A/N: um hi guys :D first post!
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DAZAI knew whenever you were sad, happy, delighted or angry. He was a very calculating man after all. One would say he knew everything, though you wouldn`t say that when he first confessed his love to you, he acted like some lovesick puppy!
You could only think of his soft chocolate-coloured hair which you would run your fingers through late at night, his umber eyes which would shine with just a tiny bit of light when they looked at your figure whenever you felt gloomy.
You loved everything about this bandaged man.
And you didn`t even know why!
You opened your eyes a large beach infront of you ah thats right you were on vacation with him. The sky was getting darker by the minute especially since it was late at night. There was a huge cloud above you, you could feel it hovering your thoughts at all times.
As you took in the sight infront of you, you notice dazai playing around the sand in beach-type clothes to which you only smiled softly from the chair you sat on.
The evening air brushed across your skin making your body slightly shiver. This was the last day tomorrow both of you had to return home.
Dazai walks over to you, a beaming smile presented on his face ''Bellllllla! come join me, we can swim together the water is a bit cold but who cares it would be fun" he exclaimed.
"No dazai, not in the mood" you chuckle out.
You could see a hint of worry and concern on dazai`s face as you decline. He grabs you by your arms, a bit softly like always on how he treats you like a fragile doll and makes your feet pace with him.
"Wait where are we going, dazai!" you shout as he only smiles and keeps making you follow him up to some hill beside the shore you had never seen it before but it was filled with lilies and was very high.
"Keep close to me bella" he replies back as he keeps taking strikes, you had wondered why he was so persistent in taking you to a place lovely as this, you don`t deserve it.
As you finally quiet down because its no use Dazai stops on the top of the hill and at that moment you felt everything stop as fireworks blow in the sky, each a different colour. The way the dark sky blossomed into various colours looked as if a huge bundle of feelings were let out.
"Dazai, this.." you uttered softly taking in the view as you feel his bandaged arms on the top of your head, lovingly rubbing it giving you a peace of mind.
"Did you forget sweetheart? Tonight was the fireworks show, I couldn`t enjoy this without you can i? You deserve all this, everything in this world" he continued.
"I wish i could gift you every single item presented in this cruel world but that wouldn`t express my adoration for you properly so i will give you heart, because that`s the richest thing i could gift you"
You didn`t look at him, as your teary eyes which reflected the patterns in the sky tried not to cry.
Dazai kissed the back of your head, gently like the night breeze.
"You deserve all of this, my belladonna"
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A/N: first post! hehe
Divider: @benkeibear
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rainydayathogwarts · 13 hours
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Open arms - Emily Prentiss
Smut - the way this fic has been sitting half written in my drafts forever. Go me for finally getting it done. Summary: Emily can't help but approach her ex in a dimly-lit bar wc: 2.1k
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Emily thought that the night would be nice and relaxing for her and the team, celebrating another closed case at their favourite bar, their laughter drowning out the sounds of other people's conversations in the dim-lit restaurant. That was until her eyes locked in on a familiar figure standing near the bar, most definitely accompanied by someone. Emily froze, her hand tightly gripping her drink, and audibly gasped when you turned around, exposing your face to her.
"Y/n?" She whispered, catching Penelope and Derek's attention, who both turned to look at her. "You okay there Prentiss?" But she really wasn't. You were her only partner who ever stayed up waiting for her to come home from a case, genuinely concerned about her. You held her in your arms, letting her just sit there and open up if she wanted to. If she didn't, it didn't bother you, and you showered her with love nonetheless, always managing to pull a smile from her. And you were definitely the best in bed. Having you withering under her, relentlessly crying out her name was an image Emily would never forget.
She regretted leaving you every day, but it would keep you safe. After seeing what Hotch had to go through, she knew it was the smartest decision. Now that you were there though, in person after over a year of being apart, she wouldn't be able to stay away from you. If you would let her that was. She remembered your reaction, how you completely broke down, calling bullshit on her 'keeping you safe' excuse.
"I'm fine." She said, bringing herself out of her trance to take a long sip of her drink. "That an ex of yours?" Derek questioned, looking at you, now talking to a friend. You looked gorgeous, he thought. Your short black dress showed off your long legs and had a low cut to display your biggest weapon, the heels you wore flexing your calf muscles in the nicest way possible. Your stunning smile exposed your white teeth while a hand flipped your hair over your shoulder. He wondered how a dumbass like Emily was able to get you.
Emily's head shot back in your direction when she heard coughing, only to find out it was you, your face now going red as you choked on your drink, your friend, who Emily now realised she knew from when you dated, rubbing your back. Oh no... When the coughing stopped, you immediately looked back at her, confirming your suspicions. She returned your eye contact, awkwardly waving at you before you were suddenly facing away from her, refusing for the interaction to continue, earning a sympathetic look from your friend.
Emily heard a chorus of "Oof" and "Oh"s from the team, who were all cringing at the interaction. "Shut up." Emily groaned, stealing a shot from in front of Derek and downing it. She coughed twice, ignoring Derek's complaints, and turned to Spencer who was now telling them a statistic about exes. "It was actually found that 44% of Americans get back with their exes at some point after breaking up. And that only includes relationships post-break up instead of one night stands, so I'd say your chances are pretty high."
As much as Emily was unimpressed that Reid was giving her dating advice, she found herself walking up to you the minute your friend left, leaving you alone at the bar. Better me than anyone else shooting their shot, she thought. It was only when she stood right next to you that she realised she had no idea what to say and that the entire team was probably watching their interaction. She cleared her throat, muttering a small "Hey." You jumped slightly, rotating on the bar stool to face your ex-girlfriend. Emily expect you to frown, thrown your drink in her face even, but to her shock, you cracked a small smile at her. "Hey Em". "Can I sit?" She asked, shifting her weight from one leg to another.
You nodded, watching her as she sat. She looked different. She had cut her hair into bangs and wore her hair pin straight instead of the loose curls she'd put them in. She wore a low cut black top with black jeans as well as her go to combat boots. You assumed she came here straight from work. When you looked back up at her face, she was still staring at you, her gaze stuck on your thighs. "Um, can I get you a drink or something?" Her head shot up and she shook it "No, I've had enough to drink. Thanks." A long awkward silence followed and you looked over at the table she had come from, watching as all of her friends' heads shot in the opposite direction apart from one of them, still cluelessly observing you.
"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have-" "No!" You cut her off, cheeks going rosy. "Why don't we go for a walk or something?"
That walk led you both to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi as you made small talk, no discussion of going to either of your apartments until you were both sat in the back of the taxi on the way to your flat. Emily's hand rested on your thigh, both of your sides pressed against each other, faces mere inches apart as her free hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to her. You felt your desire for Emily grow, squeezing your thighs together to get any amount of friction.
Emily's eyes caught the movement, smiling slightly as she felt her own core heat up for you. She leaned towards you to look out of the window, pressing her tits up against you as she tried to see how far away you were from the apartment, making small talk while you waited. The second the taxi driver pulled the car over, she was tossing her money at him and following you out of the car, both her hands resting on your hips as you led her into your fancy building and towards the elevator. The second you were in the elevator, pressing the button to the right floor, her hands were wrapping around your waist and she was pressing her lips against the soft skin of your neck.
You grabbed her hand when the elevator doors opened, leading the way to your apartment and frantically opening and shutting the door before you turned around, throwing yourself into Emily's arms. You slammed your lips onto hers, wrapping your arms around her neck as you pressed your body against hers. Her hands were immediately under the skirt of your dress, groping the fat of your ass in her hands. You pulled away from the kiss, muttering "couch" to Emily, who complied, bending down slightly so she could wrap her arms around the back of your legs and picking you up.
You squealed as she walked you over to your big couch, having forgotten about her FBI agent strength. She dropped you on the couch, crawling over you but you pushed her back so she fell flat on her back on the large couch, throwing a leg over her hips to straddle her. She tried sitting up but you pushed her back, kissing her again so she would give in, letting you take control of the kiss. Her hands trailed up your body until they reached your tits and she tugged at the front of your dress, letting them spill out the front of it. You gasped, and she took your shock to her advantage, throwing her hips up into yours and rolling over so she was on top of you.
Her hands were instantly on your tits, pulling and twisting at your nipple, the other one in her mouth. "Em, Emily!" You begged, trying to grind your hips into hers but she wouldn't listen, taking her time kissing all over your body. When she couldn't reach any more skin due to the fabric of your dress, she fully separated from you, ordering you to turn around so she could undo the zipper. So you got up onto your knees, allowing Emily to undo your dress and pull it above your head, before her hands were wandering again, down your stomach and into the skimpy panties you wore.
She moaned into your ear, feeling how wet you were before both her hands were at your hips again and she was tugging you towards her as she fell backwards, landing you in her laps. She welcomed your kisses, tightly gripping your hips as you ground your cunt on her jean-clad skin. Eventually, you got desperate, tugging her shirt up so you could feel underneath it, hungrily reaching for her tits. At your whine, she finishes the job for you, tossing her shirt somewhere in the room before your hands were back behind her, unclasping her bra.
Before you manage to throw yourself onto Emily even further, you feel her hand under your panties, immediately searching for your clit, which she finds in mere seconds. You hear yourself begging for her, struggling to hold yourself above her. Emily's hands manhandle you so your back in pressed against hers, your legs spread in front of you. Her hands begin wandering once more, and she inserts two fingers into your warm core. You cry out, arching your back as Emily continues to suck hickeys onto your neck.
Her unoccupied hand plays with your tits, alternating which one she massages. Your head rests in the crook of her next, trying not to buck your hips into her hand as she continues fingering you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take, and you're too far into pleasure land to think of how much of a mistake you were making. You feel the familiar knot building up in your stomach and whimper, your hands reaching below you to grasp Emily's thigh. Moaning loudly with an arch of your back, you cum on Emily's hand. Emily, who is whispering praises in your ear and brushing your hair out of your face with her free hand.
With the effects of your orgasm now gone and you catching your breath, you begin to internally cringe. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? You will yourself to turn around in Emily's arms, whispering "Your turn", fully aware that she wouldn't say yes. "No baby, it's okay. This is just about you." You nod, allowing yourself to fall onto the couch beside her. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Dragging yourself up from the couch, your legs still shaking, you shut the bathroom door before Emily gets the time to follow you.
You wrap a free towel around your torso, mentally cussing yourself out, thinking of a way to get Emily out of your house. The clock on the wall reads 3:28. It's late. You should go home. Repeating the words to yourself, you open the bathroom door to be met with the tall brunette. She smiles widely, a hand coming to your hip to bring you close and kiss you softly. You return her kiss but can't bring yourself to do the same with a smile. She senses the change in your behaviour and you take that as your chance to tell her: "It's late. You should go." You look down and away from her face so you can't see the way her smile drops. "Right. Um, this was fun." Your hum is enough of an answer to her and you practically chase her to the door once she's fully clothed.
Once the door is shut behind her, you peek through the peep hole to see her bring a hand up to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. She calls someone on the phone, someone you can only imagine was at the table with her at the bar. Listening closely through the door, you hear "No Derek, I did not win her heart back. She's really done with me."
But it's late. You should go sleep.
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ohbo-ohno · 5 months
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Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use
Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)
summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)
cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex
note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"
Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring. 
You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.
Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances. 
Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees. 
And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm. 
Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.
It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.
———————————————————————
You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove. 
Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.
There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.
“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.
“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.
One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”
You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”
“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.
Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.
“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”
You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”
He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”
He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.
He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.
“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”
“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”
“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”
“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”
You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”
“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”
He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”
You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.
Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”
You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs. 
He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.
“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”
The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.
It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”
You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”
He smirks, “Nope.”
John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”
“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench. 
“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.
“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”
Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”
Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”
You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”
He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.
———————————————————————
You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.
Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.
You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”
“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!” 
That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”
Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.
You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips. 
Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.
“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”
“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.
“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.
“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”
He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.
“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”
You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”
You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.
“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”
You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”
It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.
“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”
“She tight, Johnny?”
You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.
There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.
Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.
“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”
You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses. 
“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”
“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”
Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”
You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier. 
The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you. 
You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 
The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.
“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.
“Me too, bonnie.”
He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.
Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.
“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.
It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”
You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours. 
“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”
Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.
Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”
You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”
Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.
He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.
You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.
You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.
———————————————————————
You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”
He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in. 
“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”
You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”
“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”
It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.
Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.
It doesn’t make the wait any easier.
You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.
“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”
The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.
“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.
On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.
Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely. 
The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.
He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”
And, well, who are you to disobey?
You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.
“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”
“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”
“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”
“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”
“Yes, yes…”
“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”
“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”
“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”
He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.
When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.
“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.
“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”
“Alright. Need any help tonight?”
“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”
You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”
A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner. 
———————————————————————
You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.
“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”
You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.
You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.
You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.
Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth. 
You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.
“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”
You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.
He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.
Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”
You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state. 
So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.
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omgeto · 7 months
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☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR EX — GOJO, GETO, TOJI
summary: you have sex with your ex. thats it.
cw: afab!reader, smutty smut smut so mdni. unprotected sex with all of them (since I forget that condoms exist) you sit on geto face, kinda finger fucking & mild hate fucking with toji but its fun, and gojo is just lovely.
an: i was meant to post this last night but I fell asleep writing geto's part so slay. anyways I hope you enjoy lmk what you think!! not proofread so ignore any mistakes please.
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☆ GOJO
“this doesn’t mean we’re back together y’know,” you remind gojo, panting as he thrusts into you.
“you’re really saying that with my dick deep in your cunt,” he taunts, admiring the deep arch of your back, the way your ass ripples every time his hips drive into you. “i’ve missed this.”
“f-fuck keep going,” you moan out, as his dick hits your spot – just how you like it.
“so you don’t miss me?” he pesters, and you roll your eyes, as although you couldn’t see him, you just knew he had a pout on his face. “you really don’t miss me?” he continues his thumb making way to your clit, swiftly flicking at it.
“i don’t miss you.”
gojo pulls out of you almost defiantly, pushing you down – turning you around your back. he stares at you with something you couldn’t quite place, and re enters you just as quickly. he smirks at the way your mouth gapes as his hands roughly grab at your tits, pinching and pulling on your nipples.
“s-someone’s mad,” you egg on, loving the way that his strokes become harder.
“y’know the reason i always loved fucking you this way when we were together?” he asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“what’s with the trip down memory lane?,” you complain, your arms come around his neck as you take him in deeper, “i called you to fuck me, not for whatever you’re tryna do here.”
“because i always got to see all the faces you make,” he continues, completely ignoring your comment, his tongue drags up the side of your jaw, before pressing a quick kiss just under your ear. “and the face your making right now, tells me, that you're lying.”
you scoff, but didn’t say anything because you knew he was right. you did miss the way he’d plough into you, the way he knew the ins and outs of your body – how to please you. “im gonna cum,” you whine out, “satoru please i need yo–”
“you can cum when you admit the truth babe,” he teases, his strokes purposefully shift speed, still keeping you writhing underneath him but just not quite enough to get you there. “just say you miss me.”
“fine,” you force out, exasperated, “i m-miss you i do.”
“see wasn’t so hard, was it?” he kisses you deeply, driving deep into you, and you cum with a cry, you did miss being this close with your ex boyfriend. gojo is quick to finish after you, filling you up with all his cum.
he eventually pulls out of you, collapsing down on the bed next to you pulling you into his hold. you, against your better judgement, relaxing into his arms – which goes against all the rules of sleeping with your ex. “this still doesn’t mean we’re back together,” you add, knowing there was very little truth to that.
“yeah, yeah, whatever you say babe,” he smirks, his lips coming down to your forehead, placing a soft kiss, “so what did you miss about me?”
☆ TOJI
“i thought you didn’t spin the block, princess,” toji asks with a shit-eating grin, as his fingers slip inside of you “what happened to, ‘once an ex always an ex huh?” 
“i’ve always hated that nickname,” you mumble, hissing at the contact of toji’s fingers toying with your pussy, “and there are some exceptions to my rule.”
“so you’re little boyfriends not hitting it right then,” toji grins, pleased at hearing that he was the ‘exception,’ “if you’re here, slutting yourself out on my fingers.” 
“no he’s hitting it greatly,” you smirk, not rising to toji’s comments since you know what he was trying to get at, “i just missed you, that's all.”
“oh so you really have a boyfriend then?” he snapped, his fingers curling up in you.
“no i don't,” a smug smile appears on your face as you see toji’s smirk drop, “but it’s cute that you care though. are you jealous, toji?”
“shut up,” he says moodily, swiftly removing his fingers out of you, pulling you onto his lap.
you straddle him, your face inches from his, “aww are you mad toji?” you taunt with a mock pout. you’ve always loved getting a rise out of toji, you know your ex boyfriend very well, the more pissed off he was, the harder he fucked.
“sit on it,” he commands, the ‘it’ in question being his hard dick that he was furiously stroking at the sight of you. there was something about you that got on toji’s nerves – hence why you didn’t last long as a couple – but that special something was good for times like this. where you could both unleash any pent up energy you have, on eachother.
you welcome his dick eagerly, practically jumping on it, the wetness of your pussy was inviting. his dick slotted in perfectly, making you both curse at the contact. “fuck, you always feel so good,” he praises, loving the feeling of you clenching around his dick whilst you ride him.
there was a forcefulness coming from the both of you, as you were fucking each other as if you had something to prove, as if there was some unspoken competition to see who could get the other to cum first.
“f-fuck,” you mutter, the feeling of toji’s dick pistoning into you becoming too much.
“whats that princess?” toji mocks, grinning seeing your eyes gloss over, he could tell that your dick-stuffed cunt was about to release all over him, “y’gonna cum for me?”
you ignore him, continuing your mission to get toji to fold first. you manoeuvre your lips to his neck, kissing and sucking on his exposed flesh, and he takes a sharp inhale – bingo. you knew toji’s body as well as he knew yours, and he was always was weak for the way you’d nibble and bite on his neck as he fucked you dumb.
“are you gonna cum for me?” you mock mirroring his question, his strokes was getting sloppier, you could tell he was close. but you were not far behind, squirming in his lap about to reach your climax.there were no words that needed to be spoken as you and toji both cum together, your cunt too overloaded with both of your cum, making it drip out all over his dick.
“we should do this again sometime princess,” toji suggests, as you eventually hop off his dick and start putting back on your clothes, “you always know to fuck me right.”
“i’ll think about it,” you conclude, knowing that you’ll probably be back in less than a week, “and stop calling me that fucking nick name,” you say as you leave the room, the only response you hear being toji’s howling laughter.
☆ GETO
if there was one thing that you couldn’t deny your ex boyfriend had, it was his head skills. everytime without fail, he could have you sprawled out on any surface as his tongue laps your pussy. 
“s-shit, you’ve always been way too good at this,” 
“only, to please you,” he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh, before going back to sucking on your clit. your hands knot his hair, pulling and tugging as he works on your folds. he loves it when you play in his hair, showing that he’s getting what he’s aiming for – giving you pleasure. 
your moans only encourage him to toy with your pussy harder, nipping and biting as your thighs clench around his head. he’s been at this for ages, tonguing your cunt for as long as possible, as if to see how long he’d be able to go. 
“sugu ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, pressure building up inside of you, “please let me cum.”
but he doesn't. ignoring your request completely, geto removes his mouth off of you. his lips were practically shining, coated in all the juices from your pussy.  “you know there was one thing we never got to do when we were together,” he starts to say, eyeing with a mischievous smile,
“which is…” you prompt, slightly upset at the lack of stimulation you were getting at your, now throbbing, pussy.
“you never sat on my face,” he utters just above a whisper, licking his lips at the thought of it. 
“but what if I—“
“don’t worry about any of that,” he murmurs, pushing himself further back on the bed, his eyes still focused on you, “come sit.”
you slowly work your way up his body, the mischief in his eyes making you feel excited. you pause, straddling his chest, your hands rest on his shoulders, “are you sure about this?”
“girl if you don’t–” he starts to say, but the rest of his sentence is muffled as he pulls you onto his face, his mouth enveloping your pussy. your hands immediately grip onto the headboard in front of you, as his tongue gives long strokes to your wet pussy, lapping up all the juices spilling from you. 
you were riding his face, your hips moving back and forth against his mouth with his head sandwiched between your thighs. “f-fuck sugu, it’s too much,” you moan out, throwing your head back. 
he grins in response, his hands gripping your ass pushing you onto his mouth deeper. he couldn’t get enough of you, the way you taste, the sweet scent of your pussy that he practically inhales, burying his nose in it.
“s-shit,” you curse, as your cunt explodes onto your ex’s face. you pause, catching your breath, still feeling the pleasurable high he just gave you. he still had his mouth on your pussy, eating up all the cum that was dripping out of you.
“hey suguru, wanna go and–” you turn to see gojo burst into the room, “oh shit, yn? are you two back together?” you scramble off of geto’s face, giving gojo the hardest glare for interrupting. 
“satoru, can’t you see that im busy,” geto chuckles, his mouth still covered with your cum, “im eating here.”
“right…” gojo nods, “i’ll leave you two too it,” but just before he leaves the room you here him yell, “im gonna tell everyone you’re back together.” you both chuckle at your friends antics, and geto pulls you back into him.
“get back on,” he smirks, “who said i was done?”
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AN: so there we go. I love geto's part so much but maybe im biased idk. but yeahhh hope you enjoy the thoughts that I had at like 7 am. DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE
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kookslastbutton · 6 months
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i
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✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
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pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love
word count: 3,328
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content
sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events
playing: Unkiss Me
a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰
series masterlist | next >>
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From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.
He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.
Recent ex-wife that is.
For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.
That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.
Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.
But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.
Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.
After all, you deserve it; you both do.
Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.
"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.
"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.
He doesn't blame you for that either.
As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.
Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)
"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.
"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."
"He misses you."
"I'm sorry?"
"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."
Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.
Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.
"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."
"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.
"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.
Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"
You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"
"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"
"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.
Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.
"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.
"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."
"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."
You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.
The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.
"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.
"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."
"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.
"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.
"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."
The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.
"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"
"Jungkook..."
"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.
"Wait!"
Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.
"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.
Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.
It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.
With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.
You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.
"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."
"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.
"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.
"Did you—"
"No, they weren't for you."
A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.
Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.
"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.
You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.
"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."
"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.
"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."
"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."
"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"
You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."
"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.
"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.
You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.
"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.
"Hm?"
"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.
"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.
You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.
"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."
"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.
"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.
Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."
Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.
Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.
"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.
"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."
You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.
Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.
You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.
Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.
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a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘
Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!
masterlist
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
5K notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 5 months
Text
strawberry
Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader
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summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.
warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.
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He’s fucked you plenty of times before.
But never like this. No, never, ever like this.
He’s relentless.
His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.
It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.
Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.
No, he was pushing you past your limits.
Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.
“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”
“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”
“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”
Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.
“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.
“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”
Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”
You had been so certain that you could.
Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”
Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.
You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.
His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.
You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.
Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.
“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”
His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.
The man you belonged to, the man you loved.
Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—
“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”
Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“But Daddy, I just can’t—”
You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.
And you really, really can’t.
He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”
“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.
Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”
“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”
It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”
Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.
“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”
Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.
“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”
“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”
“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”
Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”
Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.
“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”
“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”
In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.
“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”
“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”
His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”
“For using the safe word—”
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”
Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”
“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”
“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”
“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”
“I should’ve listened to you.”
He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”
You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”
“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”
“Really? You promise?”
Joel holds up his pinky.
“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.
“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”
You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”
“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”
“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”
You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”
Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.
You trace his collarbone with your index finger.
“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”
“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”
“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”
He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”
You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”
There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.
Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”
The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.
My good girl.
My perfect girl.
I’m s’proud of you.
I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.
After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.
“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”
You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”
“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”
“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”
Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.
He knows that. Of course he knows that.
It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.
You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.
“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.
“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”
“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”
You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.
“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.
“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.
“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”
You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.
“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.
Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”
You stop him and point to the empty bowl.
“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”
He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.
“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.
“Too late.”
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divider credit to @saradika 🍓
3K notes · View notes
arminsumi · 6 months
Text
I COULD DO THIS FOR HOURS
G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader
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🔞 mdni / mdnr / smut / n.sfw / 18+ content
NOTE: i took a 3 am thirst draft and made it a fucking fic wtf 🥴 i'm so dizzy over this one idk why i usually don't drool for my own smut but god damn this one is special to me. ik i post a lot about gojo atm and it's because i love him no apologies 👍
SUMMARY — making a cheeky comment leads to a long, steamy session in the bedroom with your husband, who's got a point to prove.
WARNINGS — nasty smut 🤤, rough sex, namecalling/nicknames (b*tch, good girl, baby, dirty girl, sweetheart), he's kinda mean, hubby gojo, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, messy/sweaty sex, daddy kink, p*ssy kiss (1), long session (3h), overstim, dirty talk (teasing, sweet, mean), incl. aftercare, lmk if i have missed smth thank u
WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k
PLAYME — daddy
🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)
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Your husband didn’t like that cheeky comment you made about his stamina and how fast he cums. He thought you were being pretty hypocritical, considering the fact that you cum sometimes solely because of lazy clit thumbing and shallow strokes.
“ Baby, careful what you say to me. �� he smiled at you in the kitchen, serenely washing the dishes after dinner. “ You know damn well that I could go for hours straight with no breaks. The only reason I don’t do that is because you’re too weak to handle it. ” he boasted confidently.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. That scepticism pissed him off so much that he stopped cleaning the dishes and violently threw the towel down. Your giggles rung sweetly in his ear while he scooped you off your feet and tossed you over his broad shoulder, strong build carrying you to the bedroom like he was on a mission.
He threw you down on the bed with the same force that he threw the towel down with, his hands quickly finding his phone and setting a stopwatch.
You were already giggling apologies, but he wasn’t listening. He tossed his phone onto the bed and dented the mattress with his weight as he climbed on top of you, feverish kisses nearly knocking the wind out of you.
“ I’m sorryh – mmf – ‘toruh – didn’t meanh ih – I’m sorryyy. ”
“ Save your sorries and spread your legs. Gonna have to be a little rough with you, angel. But you like that, huh ? Yeah ? Like it when daddy’s rough ? Mhm, I know. Probably like it when I’m pissed off like this, too.
You smiled. “ Yeahhh, I love it. ”
He smirked. “ Dirty girl. ”
Folding you in half and sinking his cock inside you, it felt like he was your enemy for a second with how he beat up your gummy walls with his mean cock; you were giggling and squirming about his playful roughness in the beginning, but now? You’re screaming, going dumb and limp. It makes him chuckle.
“ Fuck, baby, just look at you. ” he cooed, “ . . . just cumming over and over on this dick like a dumb bitch. I told you that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, didn’t I ? Uh-huh. I fucking told you so. Keep it together, it’s only been twenty minutes. Haha . . . and you were the one talking shit about my stamina ? Come on, apologize to me. Good girl. Tell daddy how sorry you are – haha, you cummin’? Yeah, ‘can feel your pussy fuckin’ pulsing ‘round me – fuck that’s good. You like it when I’m mean, don’t you ? ”
“ Y-yesss ! Love it love it s'much Sa—to—ruuuh ! ” you panted frantically, body jiggling like jelly with each harsh thrust.
“ So cute and dumb. ” he cooed tenderly, as if he wasn’t rearranging your guts and breaking the bed.
“ Feel that, sweetheart ? Feel me sweating ? I know you like it when I’m this close, ‘like it when you can feel the sweat drip off my abs ‘n rub against your tummy ? Yeah, I know. Damn dirty bitch. Nah-uh, eyes on me. ‘S only been an hour don’t zone out on me. ”
Really, the concept of time flew out of your head when you were laying there taking him.
You’re shaking, gummy walls and sweet spots being beat up by your husband’s mean, yummy cock. The pressure inside you builds and builds until it snaps, and you scream his name in such a high pitch that it almost makes his ears ring. He laughs a little, watching as you writhe, trapped under his beefy body. He relishes in the feeling of your pussy pulsing as you cum, it brings him close, too. Before you know it, he’s pumping his cream deep inside, pounding into you like he’s trying to ruin your pussy and reshape it to fit only his cock.
“ Fuckin’ takin’ it so well, angel. Now ‘gimme another round. Get on your tummy – there we go, aw your legs are numb ? I don’t care. It’s only been an hour. You can hold on longer than that, can’t you ? ”
From the back, he fucks you so sensually and deeply that the two of you sweat sweat sweat it up. He insistently bundles up with you under the covers to make it extra toasty. The smell of sex is hot and pungent in your lungs, and inhaling yours and his arousal and scent of cum drives him crazy. Bodies wet and slippery, he’s made a sloppy mess of you before but not quite like this; his cheeks dampen, his hair sticks to his forehead; there’s little rivulets of sweat running down the center line of his abs, following along his v-line. There’s an ache in your thighs, you’re getting overstimulated but it’s so good. And listening to his ragged, heavy breathing behind you just brings on another orgasm.
“ Fuck, baby, ‘wish you could see yourself from this angle. ” he groans erotically, brows finally knitting together tightly as he loses composure and succumbs to his own sensitivity. “ Oh, angel, just cum. Don’t hold it in – cum cum cum yeahhh there we go – that’s my fucking girl. Cumming so pretty on this dick. You’re so fucking beautiful, ‘m gonna cum too. Sh-shit look at all that frothing up, feel that ? ‘so gooey and nasty. Hahhh-ahah I’m cumin’ – cumminggg ~ ”
You can practically hear the hearts in his voice when he cums, vocals straining and rasping against the nape of your neck. He lets out this one last primal sound before pumping you full of another load of thick creamy cum. You can feel him pulsing and twitching. He presses his weight onto your back a little too much, you can feel the tones of his sweaty torso and how wet and hot his body is.
“ Haha . . . fuck . . . ” he runs a hand through his hair, smiling down at the pretty mess on his dick. “ Baby, you did so good for me. You okay ? Did I go too hard ? ” he asks tenderly, nuzzling the back of your neck, just listening to your shaky breaths as you come down from your high.
“ I can’t feel my legs. ” you swallow, dazed smile on your face. “ So good . . . ”
“ Aw, sorry, angel. I’ve got you, come here. Ooh – where’s my – phone – let’s see how long you endured me for. ”
“ Felt like . . . forever . . . ”
He chuckled under his breath at that and leaned off the bed, reaching for his phone that had fallen right off the edge when he was making the bed violently shake earlier.
“ Ooh ! Baby, we’ve got a new record. Three hours. ”
“ Oh my god, no wonder I can barely fucking move . . . you’re a menace. ”
He smiles cheekily, “ Wanna make it four ? ”
“ Are you crazy ?! ”
“ Yes, of course. Don’t you love me for it ? ” he coos in a sultry voice, coming to press a loving kiss to your damp cheek.
You feel his weight lift off the bed, you tiredly peek at where he’s going and – of course, like the sweet husband he is, he’s getting you a towel. You can hear his exhausted huffs of breath. There’s cream running down your slit, some smeared across your pussy and frothed up.
He comes back into the room, smiling admiringly at your sleepy body. You’re sinking into the pillows, too tired to think.
“ ‘toru . . . ”
“ Angel ? ” he hums in response, slowly starting to clean you up from the thighs up. You feel his big hands massaging the numbness out of your legs.
“ I love you. ”
He smirks and presses a kiss to your pussy from the back, making you giggle. “ Love you too, my girl. No one makes me feel better than you do. Come here. Haha, are your legs still numb ? Should I massage them more ? M'kay, sweet girl. ”
The silence is sweet and long. He's massaging your body, feeling over you like you're his little masterpiece, his little angel.
Then he breaks the silence.
“ Told you so. ” he smiles victoriously.
You groan. “ Shut up. I was just teasing when I said you had shit stamina ! ”
“ I know, but I still hated that you said it and felt the need to prove a point. ”
You snuggle into his chest, making his heart flutter like he's a boy with a crush again.
“ Yeah yeah, point proven. ”
“ Aaand what's the point ? Tell me, I wanna hear it. ” he teases.
“ You can go on for hours. ”
He smiles to himself. “ Damn right I can. Glad my good girl learned her lesson. ”
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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Passenger Princess - Max Verstappen
Summary: Some moments between Max and his passenger princess
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Y/n had briefly mentioned she wasn't really the best driver and since Max drives for a living, he's always been happy to let her take the passenger seat and drive for them.
Not that he isn't curious. But equally y/n is one of the best passenger princess' he's ever known. That could just be because he would choose her company over anyone else in the world and can't imagine enjoying anyone else in that position.
"Schat, time to go." Max smiles as he finds y/n with Daniel and Lando since she'd been killing time waiting for her boyfriend to be done with whatever he was going.
"Aww are you taking my best friend away?" Daniel jokes as y/n greets Max with a kiss.
"And now I feel single from witnessing the two of you, I'll be on my way." Lando states earning a hum before he takes off while Daniel does steal a hug before also leaving him.
Once the couple is left on their own Max doesn't waste much time getting them to his car, opening the car door for her which earns him a kiss of thanks from the young woman before she slides into the leather seats.
Gently closing the door for her, he moves around to the driver's seat and climbs in too, smiling when he sees y/n has already kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up, crossed in the seat.
"Seatbelt, schat." Max states earning a soft smile and making her quickly yank the seatbelt clicking it into place. "Do you just want to go for a bit of a drive?"
"Always." Y/n beams making him hum beginning to reverse from the parking space. "Music."
Y/n pokes the glove box open and pulls out some gum gently putting some in Max's mouth for him before slumping back down in the seat.
Max usually prefers to not spend hours and hours driving around killing time, but when y/n is there. He loves spending time with her. Loves seeing her and spending time with her undisturbed. Not something he can say is so easy to achieve elsewhere.
"You looked great out there. So so good." Y/n declares earning a smile. "I keep getting tagged in loads and loads of posts about how you look so godly after races. Standing up on those podiums."
"Oh yeah?" Max laughs since y/n has no shame in bragging endlessly about her boyfriend, his success and how unreal he looks standing up on the podium, the medal, the biggest trophy and higher above the others.
Just the mental images that rush through her mind get her feeling the rush.
"If I wasn't so sure that you love me, I'd let jealousy get the better of me."
"Schat, you are very secure in this relationship. But you get jealous any time a woman is within arms reach."
Y/n rolls her eyes, she isn't ashamed of her jealousy about Max. She knows how good she has it with him, he loves and takes care of her and she tries at every opportunity to return the favour.
"They know I exist. It's not too much to ask for them to not get in your space." Y/n grumbles while he looks at her for a moment in amusement.
"See you cannot even contain your jealousy just thinking about it."
"Alright, well I appreciate them for giving me content that I would otherwise not have immediate access too." Y/n grins as feel Max's hand come over to her thigh, squeezing the exposed skin.
-
Max rarely choose to drive from Nice airport, but sometimes he just likes the drive. Especially when y/n is tired.
Today is one of those days, getting her out of the private jet and he's known she's exhausted. He's not entirely sure why but she definitely got the giveaway tired eyes.
"Come on, schat. Let's get home." Max smiles as y/n feels herself pulled up onto her feet by him. Purposely getting her up on her feet as a test of how tired she is.
"Mmm...Max, I'm too tired, stop it." Y/n whines immediately. Her hands grabbing at him till he's scooped her up and is carrying her out of the jet.
He smiles feeling her face hide in his neck, though she can't stop herself from placing a kiss on his skin.
He sighs managing to get her sat in the passenger seat and buckle her in, she's still awake and manages a lazy smile at him but he's certain watching her kick off her shoes that she has no intention of being conscious for the drive to Monaco.
"Talk to me. I want to hear your voice." Y/n murmurs making him smile a little as her as she moves her hand to link with his own. It's another giveaway that she will be falling asleep quickly.
Max begins talking, able to talk about all sorts of things that he can think of. Not worried about any of it making sense or sounding ridiculous since y/n hums and murmurs in weak responses, seemingly trying to fight her body on succumbing to the sleeps.
"Schat, do you want me to call the chef ask him to come over for making some food?" Max whispers making her lift her head as if she's confused over the words that just came out his mouth. "Food. Do you want food?"
"Yeah, I want food please." Y/n yawns, huffing slightly as Max squeezes her hand before lifting it up to kiss the back of it which earns a smile.
-
Max driving cars around tracks as part of the content side of the job isn't uncommon. But usually it features Perez. However this time they decided to ask if y/n would surprise Max with an appearance.
However, what they didn't expect was her to pale and look utterly terrified.
Max drives fast for a living but actually when he's driving with y/n in the car, he seems to take much more care with his speed and almost go only a little bit above speed limits. But after reassurance that she would be fine. She agreed to part-take, if only to see Max's reaction.
"Alright, your co-driver is seated. Ready when you are." The marketing girl smiles making Max nod pulling on his helmet and climbing in to see that his co-driver is wearing his helmet design.
Y/n turns grinning at him and the look of surprise is well worth the multiple cameras from all different angles.
"You are my co-driver?"
"Yeah, I think given my reputation the girls were surprised when I didn't want to be your passenger on this occasion." Y/n jokes as he leans over checking her seatbelts, rebuckling and tightening them a little as she swallows thickly.
"Don't worry. I always take good care of you." Max smiles as she gives a slightly nervous smile. "You'll be fine."
After double checking her seatbelts, he buckles himself in before starting the engine and laughs seeing her jump just at the engine revving.
"Alright, lets get going." Max smiles pulling off the clutch and hitting the throttle.
Zooming around the track y/n's hand comes up clutching the shoulder of his racing suit as she repeatedly shouts no, only making him laugh.
"Your eyes are closed!" Max exclaims making her whine.
"They were open!" Y/n shouts back then peeking one eye open to realise that he's passing the line and still going. "You're not stopping!"
"No, we are doing a few laps." Max chuckles, he's lying but he wants to see if a few laps earns more faith in his ability to drive and not just crash directly in the wall.
Her grip only tightens giving away that he eyes are definitely open to see what's happening and of course he's eager to really traumatise is girlfriend so he does a few donuts at the end just to make sure she knows she is actually safe.
"I'm never doing this again." Y/n pants when they finally stop. Max clapping a little while she pouts at him. "I think I should be allowed to drive around now."
"You can if you want."
"You're mad, help me out of here." Y/n laughs making Max laugh and nod, he knew he was stretching his luck with that one. "I prefer being your passenger when you are just driving on the road."
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap
Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.
Word Count: 4k
Part 2: READ HERE
The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you. 
Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction. 
Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.
All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.  
Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly. 
“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”
As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”
To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”
Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”
Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.  
Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says. 
The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze. 
You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit. 
And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.
“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement. 
You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.
“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”
He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”
You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.
With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge. 
You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.  
The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore. 
The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”
He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?” 
Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”
“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.
“Yes,” you confirm. 
Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.
Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.
The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.
Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.  
It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”
Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.
Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.
Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together. 
How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?
The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.
You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth. 
That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him. 
The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth. 
And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.
You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.
The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand. 
Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his. 
Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment. 
Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed. 
Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.
“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”
It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready.  But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own. 
By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent. 
You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.
“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.
Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both. 
Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.
Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”  
You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie. 
“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”
You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case. 
“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.
You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back. 
“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”
The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.
Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up. 
You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken. 
Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.
The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it. 
Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed. 
This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.
And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.
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soapsgf · 4 months
Text
Thin Walls
Pairing: Roommate!Soap x Fem!Reader
Summary: Johnny can hear you using your vibrator through the thin walls of your apartment. He ignores the issue for weeks until he hears you moan out his name one night.
Warnings: smut (duh), masturbation mentions, unprotected p in v sex, voyeurism (Johnny listens to reader without her knowing), boundary crossing (Johnny enters reader's room without her consent and ignores her request to use a condom), Johnny generally being a perv, squirting, and creampie (reader receiving)
Word count: 1171
!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - NSFW BELOW THE CUT !!
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Roommate!Johnny doesn’t ever bring it up because he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but truth of the matter is he can easily hear your vibrator every time you power it on. The walls in your two-bedroom apartment are as thin as tissue paper, doing very little to prevent noise traveling from your room into his. Late at night, he can hear the soft buzzing of the toy along with your sweet sighs and whimpers as you work yourself towards an orgasm. God only knows what he would give to be the one relieving that ache in between your thighs instead of that stupid piece of plastic. All Johnny can do is press his ear against your shared wall and fuck his fist with his eyes screwed shut so he can picture what your pretty face would look like all fucked out underneath him. 
The poor man says nothing about the noises for weeks. Johnny so desperately wants to offer to fuck you, to lay you back and make you cum over and over again with his mouth and cock. But he would sooner die than risk making you uncomfortable with that type of proposition. So he doesn’t say a word until one night when you make it impossible for him to resist you any longer. 
That night as you slide the little pink vibrator through your folds, you can’t keep Johnny out of your fantasies. Mental images of his broad, muscular frame toned from years of SAS training creep into your mind. The memories of him post shower, towel low on his waist and water clinging to his hairy chest and stomach, play on repeat. When you shut your eyes, you think about the times you’ve seen Johnny in his boxers, his prominent bulge always making you wonder exactly how large his cock is. 
“Nngh… Johnny,” you find yourself moaning out as you press the vibrator to your clit. Your roommate’s ears perk up from the other side of the wall and he wonders if he’s dreaming. Surely his hearing is just playing a cruel trick on him. 
“Yes! Just like that, Johnny!” Your moans confirm that this is in fact reality. Johnny races to your bedroom door and throws it open without warning. You gasp and quickly try to cover yourself with a blanket when you see your roommate standing in the doorway. 
“Jesus Christ, Johnny! You can’t just-“ your sentence dies on your lips as Johnny enters your room and and crawls on top of you, his strong arms caging you in on either side. 
“I heard ye just now, hen. The way ye moaned out my name. I know ye want me, the same way I’ve wanted you for months,” Johnny’s pupils are wide, his breathing heavy as his lips move closer to yours. You hesitate for a moment before lifting your head to close the gap.  
The kiss quickly becomes lustful as Johnny slides his tongue into your mouth. He’s so clearly pent up, obvious by the way he ruts his erection against you. You whine into Johnny’s lips as the clothed bulge repeatedly grinds against your clit, your wetness leaving a noticeable wet spot on his boxers. 
“Johnny please,“ you pant out breathlessly between kisses.
“Please what? Tell me what ye need, hen.”
“Please fuck me.” That’s the final signal Johnny needs to spur him on. Within seconds, his boxers are gone and he’s pushing your knees back against your shoulders, giving him full access to your pussy. His cock slides through your slick folds and soft moans fall from your lips as his tip rubs against your clit. 
“Oh God,” you whisper when you feel him press against your entrance. “Wait, ‘s not safe. You should use a condom.”
“Relax, hen,” Johnny chuckles as he kisses the corner of your lips. “We’ll get ye a Plan B tomorrow morning, aye?” 
You have no time to protest before Johnny sinks his veiny cock into your cunt, a nearly pornographic moan leaves your lips as his thick shaft stretches you open. 
“Fuck me,” Johnny growls out at the sensation of your wet walls around him. “Ye feel even better than I imagined.” 
His thrusts are rough and rhythmic, groans escaping from his throat every time he pushes into you. Johnny only slows down to reposition himself slightly, angling his dick to perfectly reach that gummy spot inside of you. He knows he’s done well when your moans get even louder. 
“Ye sound so bonnie getting fucked by me, lass. Tell me, tell me I’m better than that little toy.” 
“Johnny! Ah ahhh! You feel so good! So much better than my toy… So much better than-“ your voice quickly fades, unsure if you should continue. 
“C’mon let me hear ye, hen,” Johnny grunts in your ear before nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. 
“Nngh! So much better than anyone I’ve ever had!” Your exclamation spurs Johnny on even further and his thrusts speed up. Now filled with the confidence boost that he’s fucking you better than any of your previous partners. 
“Wait! Stop, I’m- I’m gonna pee!” you cry out as an unfamiliar sensation fills your low abdomen. Johnny knows what you’re about to experience and ignores your whines, instead thrusting right up against that spongy spot to push you over the edge. You moan as you squirt for the first time ever. Your fluids soak the thick bush of black hair at the base of Johnny’s cock and the bedsheets underneath you. 
Within seconds, Johnny’s thrusts lose their rhythm and he reaches his climax, sent over the edge by your tight walls convulsing around his shaft. He lets out a string of grunts as his cum floods your pussy. Johnny’s burly body collapses on top of you and he rests his face in the crook of your neck, both of you trying to catch your breath after the intensity of your orgasms. 
“Ye dinnae ken how long I’ve wanted this, lass,” Johnny whispers after his breathing returns to normal. 
“I’ve wanted this for a while now too. Was just… too afraid to make things awkward between us.” Your cheeks begin to feel warm as you admit your true feelings to your roommate. Johnny’s strong hand reaches up to gently caresses your jawline. 
“Well, now we ken how we feel. Dinnae need to dance around the subject any more,” he smiles warmly before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 
“We need some place dry to sleep,” you giggle softly. 
“Come sleep in my room,” Johnny insists as he sits up and extends his hand. “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up and get ye to bed, hen.” 
After a hot shower with him, you collapse into Johnny’s bed. His burly arms wrap around your waist as he curls himself up behind you. You drift off to sleep with a faint smile on your face, knowing that when the lease is up on this place you and Johnny will be looking for a one bedroom apartment.
˗ˏˋ ✿ tag list ✿ ˎˊ˗
@ivoovu (you didn't ask, but i'm assuming you want to be tagged), @taman-a
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gentlyweeps-world · 16 days
Note
Hi Can I request Lance Stroll x Reader where people think she's with Lance for just his money and was very rude or bullying her until they found out she's from one of the very rich families like that Rothschild family. That's all thank you.
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money money money
summary: above^^
pairing: lance stroll x fem! reader
warnings: haters | suggestive tones |
genre: fluff | smau
notes: fyi I don’t follow rich famous families or anything so this might be a bit off 😭
words: 1k
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
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lance_stroll Summa dump☀️
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user8382 UHMM A GF???
user018 she’s prob just a gold digger
user632 or she’s just a private person and they wanted to keep their relationship private?
user018 no babe 🫶😘
“So Lance..we saw that you got up to some fun during the summer break, more importantly you launched your relationship!” An interviewer says, like many wanting to pry into the private lives of drivers.
Lance lets out a chuckle, “Yeah, she wanted to keep it more private for reasons so I didn’t argue..” He replies with a smile.
“And do you think she has ulterior motives?”
“Uhm no, that’s a stupid question..” Lance says, giving the interviewer a weird look.
The interviewer lets out an awkward chuckle, “It’s just some people can’t help but assume that she’s using you for your money, hence why she would want to keep it private.”
Lance gives the interviewer another weird look, then laughs. “Oh yeah! She’s definitely using me for my money!” 
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youruser yeah I only want him for his money 🙄
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lance_stroll 🤍🤍
lance_stroll where’s my wallet??
youruser oops?
user8392 wait who is Y/n dating???
user09811 Lance Stroll
used8392 who??
user09811 he’s a formula one driver for Aston Martin
user2991 she’s so real for that 💀
your-bestie actually obsessed with you wtf
youruser 🤭🤍
user0361 omfg they are so hot together 🤭
s/n.l/n when’s the wedding???
youruser stfu s/n
user6841 say it with me! GOLD DIGGER
user7421 k you’re funny
user7421 she literally has like double the money lance does 😭
user3548 someone at Aston Martin is getting fired 😭😭
chloestroll love youuu ❤️
youruser 😘🤍
lailahasanovic love you queen 🫶🫶
youruser 🤍🤍
user62018 how long have they been together??
user00831 in one of her videos from March she talked abt having to go on a date with a guy so a few months
s/n_l/n2 love you sisterr 💋
youruser love you too 💋🤍
“I can’t believe people actually think I’m a gold digger..” You say with a laugh, setting your phone down as you glance at Lance.
"Oh, you mean you're not?" He asks, his voice teasing, eyes glancing up from his phone to look at you.
You let out an offended gasp, “I can’t believe you would say that!” You say with a grin.
"Oh, but I would, and I did sweetie." He says teasingly, eyes not breaking contact with yours.
“You’re a dick Lance..” You say with a chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully as you get up from your seat.
It was a nice day out, you and Lance were at your house, sitting by your pool.
“Hey maybe you’re the gold digger, I do have more money than you..” You add on with a smirk.
"Yeah, right, because I totally need your money." He answers, voice a playful tone, he stands up and walks up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist.
“I have a feeling that if I gave you money you wouldn’t be against taking it..” You reply, leaning back into him.
"Maybe I'd take it to shut you up Y/n." Lance says, leaning his face down to kiss the side of your neck.
“Wow, aren't you a charmer?” You say sarcastically with a giggle, pulling away from his grasp.
"You know I am. And you know you love it when I'm like this." Lance responds, grabbing your hips and pulling back against him as he continues to kiss your neck.
“No comment..” You say with a smile, turning in his arms so you’re facing him.
More comments regarding yours and Lances relationship had flooded in.
Your comment sections were filled with them, his too. At first obviously when you guys went public they were easy to ignore, you guys had mostly made jokes about all of it.
But now they started to get at you. Now you weren’t a gold digger, and you knew you should ignore them, but you are human.
“Lance..?” You ask out quietly, shifting in bed to face him. It was late at night, and you couldn’t sleep. Your thoughts overwhelming you.
Lance noticed the way you shifted in bed, a small movement you made, but a noticeable one. He was still wide awake, his mind not shutting up either, as he had been laying awake for hours already.
"Yeah, sweetie?" He asks softly, rolling on his side to face you, draping his one arm across you as he looks at you.
“It’s kind of embarrassing..” You say with a small chuckle, “But you don’t think I’m a gold digger, right?”
Lance's eyes widen a bit, taken aback by the directness of the question.
"Babe.." He pauses, gathering his thoughts, "Why are you worried about what people say?" He asks softly, giving you a light squeeze and a light kiss on your cheek, "It's bullshit. You're not a gold digger."
“I know, but sometimes I can’t help but let those comments in..” You say softly, moving closer into him. “I mean it’s difficult to constantly be judged and looked at..” You add on. You and Lance both knew what that was like.
Lance sighs, he knew exactly what you were going through right now, he had been through the same thing before, he was being criticized by so many people in F1.
"I know, but you really shouldn't care what they think." Lance says, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you in against him, "You know? If we know it's not true, who cares what they say?"
You smile softly at his words, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips, “Yeah you’re right..” You say with a smile.
With time the comments had stopped, you weren’t called a gold digger any more, and on the contrary, Lance was starting to be called the gold digger.
You constantly made fun of him for that.
You let out a gasp, looking at the beautiful pasta dinner Lance made, with candles and soft romantic music playing in the background.
“Lance..” You whisper out with a smile, spotting him sitting in one of the chairs at your dining table. “This is beautiful baby..”
Lance raises a single eyebrow with a smirk at your words, "I’m glad you think so..” He says with a chuckle, moving towards you.
He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you in close, "Now I better not hear any talk about me being the gold digger tonight, understand me?" He asks with a teasing tone, voice laced with affection.
You let out a giggle at his words, “Right of course..” You say with a smile, wrapping your own arms around the back of his neck. You lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips.
Lance smiles against your lips, pulling you closer into his chest. “Want to dance?” He asks with a smile.
“Of course”
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︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚
radio 🪩: does this make up for my lando fic? 😭 send in any requests!!🤍
permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @itsprashimusic
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secretwritingspot · 4 months
Text
Thighs
Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader
Hihihi!!! Welcome to my first post, lovelies!
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Rating/Content Warnings: somewhere between PG-13 and R? Like there's definitely a L O T of sexual themes, but no actual doing of the do. Mostly just a lot of Sanji oggling the reader and trying so hard failing not to be a creep.
Summary: I love the idea of teasing Sanji in general because he's such a man whore (affectionate) but there's something especially funny to me about doing it completely on accident, so here's approx. 2k words of Sanji having a full on breakdown because reader wore a short skirt with long socks literally once.
Disclaimer(s): okay this is for all my fellow thick thighed bitches because I just KNOW, K N O W Sanji would go crazy for that shit. Do not ask me why. it came to me in a dream. it was revealed to me in visions. he told me himself. That being said, because of that and story reasons there are a few specific physical traits mentioned (thick thighs and being too short to reach a shelf) and the reader is wearing a skirt, so keep that in mind!
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Sanji considers himself a man of tremendous patience.
He might not seem it with how often he finds himself oggling the women on the crew, flirting with any woman he sees, what have you- but really, all of it's tame in comparison to his thoughts. His desires. The warmth that floods his chest when he sees a particularly attractive woman walk by.
He's as chivalrous as possible with his crewmates, trying not to be too distracted by their beauty, flits of the eyes, flicks of the hair. He prides himself on his ability not to react. And then...well, then today happens. Then, he sees you - the most recent crewmember - in a tiny, swishy little skirt.
It makes sense, he supposes, for you to wear something so short. It's sweltering out.
Still, ever since he first saw you in the morning, he hasn't been able to get the sight of your plush thighs out of his head. Hence his early start on cooking dinner, attempting to clear his head the only way he knows how.
He's sweating a bit from the heat himself, but he tries to focus on the food and the cooking, not thinking about you. He just wants to get the food done and be finished with this day-long distraction. The sooner he finishes cooking the sooner they can have dinner and the sooner he can retire to his room, wrap his fist around his cock, finish himself off, go to sleep, and forget about all of this.
He reassures himself that it can't be too long before he's able to lock his door and unwind when there's a gentle, rhythmic knock at the open doorframe, alerting him of someone else's presence.
"Hey Sanj!"
You. Of course. As if his life weren't hard enough already.
"Whatcha making?"
You ask curiously, short skirt swishing with your movements as you walk in and hop up on one of the counters he isn't using, watching him with rapt attention. He looks up at you for a moment and smiles before looking back at his cooking, trying to avoid stolen glances at your legs.
"Just cooking up dinner. Nothing exciting."
It makes sense, he supposes. You were by far his closest friend on the crew, so of course you'd be the liaison for the rest of the crew (read: Luffy) to send to spy when they wanted to know what was for dinner.
Still, doesn't make you any less distracting.
"Disagree. Watching you cook is fascinating," you counter softly with a fond smile, thankfully oblivious to his staring.
Your words go straight to his ego, before moving down to his...nevermind. The point is, your admiration makes him happy. He's always been a sucker for compliments to his cooking. You're a good audience, too- quiet and curious and good company, mostly either doing your own thing (reading, mending old clothes, drawing - though you've never let him see your sketchbook, he's asked) or watching intently as he works.
Still, his mind is drifting elsewhere. He can't help but imagine how soft your thighs would be in his hands, how warm one would feel pressed against the skin of his cheek with your legs wrapped around his head-
Sanji freezes for a second at that thought and then quickly tries to focus back on the food cooking.
"You think so?" He asks with a calm smile, trying to keep his composure, "I'm sure I'm not too special to watch."
"You sell yourself short," you respond with a click of your tongue and a fond shake of the head. You really do enjoy watching him cook, eyes scanning across his hands while he works, admiring his skill and technique with soft eyes. "It's...relaxing. Watching you work, I mean."
Sanji chuckles nervously, looking down at his hands with a slight blush and pointedly avoiding your eyes.
"Oh please. I'm sure it's perfectly enjoyable to watch anyone cook."
You hum softly in consideration and there's a comfortable pause, the galley going silent again, save for the sounds of utensils scraping and the sizzling of oil in a pan.
It's no surprise to him that he's been so distracted all day, unfortunate though it is. Everyone knows he really, really likes women, it's common knowledge. But in particular, Sanji's always had a weakness for thighs. (Anything soft, honestly, he's always been one for soft.) But thighs in particular have always been a surefire way to raise his blood pressure (among other things).
He tries to avoid looking at you while he cooks, but he can't help himself at times. You really do have lovely thighs and he wants to feel them for himself, wants to know if you're truly as soft and warm as you look, wants to know how quickly they'd bruise in the shape of his fingers or his teeth. He really does try not to look, but it's taking its toll on him and he finally turns back to you in curiosity.
"Is that really comfortable?"
You cock your head at him in confusion for a moment before realizing what he's talking about, laughing softly at the question and looking down at the skirt on yourself with a shrug.
"I mean, it's like a bajillion degrees out. If I wore something else, I think I might've melted."
You hop off the counter gently, smooth and coordinated on your feet as always as you stand before doing a little twirl to show off the outfit to him.
"Plus, it's actually super practical, since it has the shorts built in."
He's used to you showing off to him like this any time an outfit you've picked out is unexpectedly practical - dresses with pockets, hidden weapon holsters, shockingly soft fabrics and the like - and he usually finds your excitement quite cute.
This time, though, is different. Your twirl makes the skirt flare up and he swears his heart explodes in his chest. There are built in shorts, but calling them that is more of a stretch than the average fighting move from your captain. They must be at least 3 or 4 inches shorter than the skirt itself, made of some sort of legging material. The action only flashes him a better view of your thighs and he knows it's not on purpose, but good god.
Sanji gulps a bit, his eyes caught on that wonderful sight you inadvertantly just showed him. He tries so hard to not stare, to be respectful, to focus on the food.
"Practical indeed!"
His voice cracks on the forced, over-enthusiastic response, begging himself just to be normal for one second, let the moment pass by naturally.
But he's never been good with self-control. And his mouth has always been much faster than his brain.
"You know, you really do look amazing in that, sweetheart. You should wear that style more often."
As soon as the words come out, he's kicking himself over them. He'd tried desperately just to look you up and down quickly and say you look amazing, a simple, averagely flirtatious comment that no one would look twice at. But he knows the main reason he likes how you're dressed so much, and his traitorous mind is caught between telling himself to get it together and begging you to let him feel you.
"Aww, thanks!" You chirp happily at the compliment, doing another cute little spin. It would be precious if it weren't making it so hard for him to think, but he thinks the soft blush his words put on your cheeks is worth showing his hand a bit-
"Maybe I should, I do like it."
-he might've doomed himself to never being able to focus again, though.
Sanji is trying so hard not to stare. He tries to look at anything else- the kitchen, the walls, the food, anything at all. It's like a scene from a cartoon with a heart-eyed schmuck trying to look anywhere but at a woman's cleavage. He takes a breath and tries his best to settle back into his usual, teasing demeanor.
"Yep, I really think you should. You make for a lovely view."
He succeeds, for the most part, you biting your lip with a soft smile and mumbling a flustered little "thank you" in response, and goes back to his cooking, mind still on you.
Still, it's a respite, and he manages to distract himself well enough by focusing on the food.
It's silent for another few, calm moments before he tastes the sauce he's making and finds it missing something, sighing softly. He calls to you without thinking, since you're already there, and always quite eager to help him in the kitchen any way you can when he'll let you.
"Could you fetch me the coriander, love?"
He doesn't think it through, he must've done it a million times before, but this time...
Of course you go to get it, angel that you are. It was never in doubt that you'd be willing to lend a helping hand, especially when he'd asked in that soft, quiet voice that seemed reserved for you and you only.
The problem is that you can't quite reach the shelves, hopping up on your tip-toes, the bottle less than a fraction of an inch from your fingertips. But the view it gives him, the angle- christ, he can see fully up your skirt, the fabric riding up in your attempt to reach for the jar and barely covering your ass.
"Oh god," Sanji mumbles to himself under his breath, now very distracted by the view. You look so cute. Your thighs look so good in that skirt, and the angle he has gives him a full view up it. He almost walks over and gets the bottle for you on instinct, used to grabbing things for you when you can't reach.
But...he doesn't.
It's complete sin, but he doesn't. He feels guilty about letting you struggle to reach the bottle of spice rather than just getting it down himself, but he can't resist the opportunity to oggle you in this position a little longer. So he doesn't say anything, do anything, ashamed of his thoughts and his own inaction. He knew he could be a touch desperate at times, but he promised himself that he would never be...he wasn't the type of man to do this. Christ, he can't believe he's actually doing this now.
Eventually, you hop to reach it, finally able to grab the container with a satisfied little 'ha!'
He only has a few seconds to stare at how good that little jump makes you look - gravity doing the work and making your thighs, your ass, your tits bounce for a moment when you land - before he has to school his reaction back to normal. Look professional. It only makes him feel worse how proudly you hand him the spice jar after turning around, completely unaware of the show you just gave him.
"...thank you, love."
You nod happily in response, walking back out from behind the galley so as not to get in his way, the act guilt-inducingly thoughtful.
"I'll tell them it'll be a few more minutes, yeah?" You ask, flashing him that dazzling smile and he can't do much else but nod as you leave the room to tell the rest of the crew the ETA on dinner, skirt swishing around your hips. He puts his head in his hands, elbows on the counter, and groans.
This is gonna be a long fucking night.
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aaagustd · 3 months
Text
holi-blaze || jeon jungkook (m)
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title: holi-blaze
pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader
genre/rating: f*ckbuddies/unestablished relationship, smut, mature/explicit, 18+
summary: it's your first time spending the holidays together, and jungkook isn't in the mood. but... you think you can change his mind.
warnings: listen…..“that’s OUR man, thank you to OUR man!!!”, swearing, mentions w**d, mentions Christmas/holidays, protected s*x but mentions unprotected s*x, spanking, reader wears lingerie, a** worshipping, back shots, missionary, b*ndage/restraints, f*ngering, teasing/foreplay, a touch of roleplay (Jungkook might have a little crush on Martha May Whovier), back scratching, praise, squ*rting, tongue kissing, make up s*x, Dom/sub themes, n*pple sucking, biting, begging, some aftercare, mistletoe… or not??, idk why i’m smiling but i love them lol
wc: 2.5k
release date: december 30th, 2023; 11:33pm est
note: it’s been about 4 months since i posted. this is embarrassing. anyway, i didn’t edit this bc i didn’t have a computer. this’ll be the last update for this series for a while so i hope this holds you. i have a bigger project i’m working on currently so… i hope to see you in 2024. love you !!
series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 version | inbox | join the taglist
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“Aye, I’m home! Where are…”
Jungkook finds you standing in his living room when he enters his apartment. He probably expected to find you bundled up on the couch watching a holiday marathon, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing.  
That was until you walked in and discovered everything he’s been hiding from you. Now you know why he hasn’t invited you over in two weeks.
All month he’s been complaining about the holidays and pissing on your parade whenever you get excited about the TikTok holiday DIYs. Only for him to decorate his entire living room like it’s a Holiday Cheermeister. He definitely has outdone himself with this surprise. Now, it’s time to return the favor.
His keys fall on the floor, and you can only imagine what’s going through his mind.
“Oh…” He takes a long pause, processing the image before him. “Damn, love.”
You hope that’s a good sign. This is your first time wearing lingerie, and you aren’t even sure if Jungkook is into it.
“Um… Your keys?”
“Come here,” he beckons.
Your marabou heels move across the floor, feathers tickling your oiled skin with each step. Your matching robe—thin and sheer—barely conceals your lack of clothing underneath it. You can feel the fabric dragging behind you as it's carried by a gentle breeze.
Jungkook’s brown eyes never look away as you strut in his direction. When you approach him, you’re nearly swept off your feet by how good he smells. 
His finger motions for you to spin and show him the entire outfit.
“Twirl, baby.”
You purposefully take your time and give him the 360 view, letting your robe fall once your back is facing him. You’re starting to feel a bit more confident now that you’ve gotten the big reveal out of the way. Jungkook biting his bottom lip tells you that he likes what he sees so far.
“Sexy. Like Martha May.”
You whisper to yourself as you take a step closer. “Martha May, huh?”
Jungkook nods.
“ Yeah… I’m high key fucking with it, though.”
Now, that’s good to hear because he’s given you an idea.
“Well, thank you… Mr. Grinch.”
Jungkook tilts his head, pretending to be confused. Eventually, he reveals a mischievous grin.
“I’ve been that bad, huh?”
“The worst,” you reply.
You don’t pull away when he reaches for your hand. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve had any contact. You’re deprived; desperate. 
Even if you were still mad at him, your pride is long gone. So, instead of pouncing on him, you allow him to guide you to the bedroom.
“It only gets worse, love.”
Well, damn.
“How much worse?” you quiz, already knowing the answer to the question. He looks over his shoulder as he opens his bedroom door.
“You’re gonna fuck around and find out if you keep playing with me.”
As Jungkook guides you into his room, you try to hold back your smile. You always find thrill in testing his patience. Whatever it takes for him to pound you into his mattress, you’ll try it.
Once inside, he walks over to the bed and sits on his bed. You grip onto his green bomber jacket while he caresses and gently kneads your thighs, making you melt into his hands. You push out your chest, so he can have a better look at the red lace that barely covers your tits.
He can’t stop himself from staring. His mouth waters as the sinful thoughts run through his mind. During his journey all over your body, his hand accidentally touches something you’re clutching in your right hand.
He frowns. “What are those for?”
You hold up the cordless lights that you snatched from your little desk tree at work with a smirk.
“Dunno,” you shrug. “They’re yours. Get creative.”
Jungkook stands up, and you place the cord in his hand. He gestures towards the bed, and tells you to get on it.
“Alright, go,” he orders.
“Okay.”
You climb on the bed, positioning yourself on your hands and knees. He didn’t tell you to lie down, but you figured he’d appreciate seeing your outfit from this angle.
“Like this?”
“Just like that,” he approves.
It isn’t long before you feel the palms of his hands touching your ass. They’re still a little cold, but eventually heat up due to the warmth of your flesh. You know that he could do this for hours, just admiring the way it jiggles and how soft it feels in his hands. 
However, tonight he wastes no time giving your pussy attention, the opening in the center of your panties giving him easy access to your slit.
“Fuck.” 
His reaction makes you want to turn around and see his reaction, but you’re afraid you might ruin the foreplay and beg him to fuck you now. So, with clenched teeth, you try to suppress your eagerness to have him inside of you; but you’re already close to failing.
“One of these days I’m just gonna say fuck it and raw dog you.”
You lose control of your outbursts when he pushes his thumb into your pussy. You beg him for more, but he just pulls out, leaving you disappointed.
“Jungkook!”
He chuckles. “Alright, alright. Give me your hands, love.”
At Jungkook’s request, you move your hands behind you. 
He’s so close that his breath tickles the tiny hair on the back of your neck. Your body shivers as his fingers gently touch your skin, sliding down your arm until he reaches your hands.
When he speaks, the sound of his voice makes you weak. No matter how hard you clench your knees are nothing but jelly, making it nearly impossible to support your weight.
“You still like to be tied up and shit, right?”
Oh unholy fucking night.
“I do.”
“That’s my girl,” he boasts.
Your heart begins to race with excitement when you feel the cord tightening around your wrists. It doesn’t take Jungkook a long time to secure a few knots. 
“Is this okay? Not too tight?”
Despite your position once he bends you over again, your body is still relaxed. You know you’re in safe hands. He’s earned your trust when it comes to your body, so you don’t mind if he takes control. You actually enjoy it more than he does.
“No, I’m fine,” you answer. “I’m excited.”
“Hm. I can tell.” 
It is then you realize that your thighs are rubbing together, smearing a mess of your sticky juices between them. The sound of Jungkook spreading your legs has you burying your face in his sheets.
“No hiding.”
You lift your head and nod. “Sorry.”
“It’s all good. Do you remember we play?”
“You call the shots. I’m in control.”
Jungkook hums his approval, but before he can ask you anything else.
“...And I remember how to free myself,” you add. “Just in case.”
“You’re so perfect,” he praises. 
A bit of pride swells in your chest when he says this. He tells you this almost every day, but it still makes you smile from ear to ear.
The next thing you hear is Jungkook fishing for condoms in his nightstand drawer. Once he finds them, he returns and removes his clothes. You catch a glimpse of his figure behind you, and it’s that image you’ll hold on to when he’s taking you from behind. 
When Jungkook spreads your globes, a small moan escapes your lips despite your attempt to bite it back.
“Ready?”
“So, so…ready,” you reply.
You whimper as the tip of his dick probes gently at your entrance. Your body is shaking from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It feels like it's been months since you’ve felt his thick cock stretching you open. 
“I know,” he coos. “Just relax, sweetheart.”
You take a deep breath to calm yourself; and eventually, your muscles relax. Jungkook steals this moment to slowly slide into you.
“Fuck!”
“Gotta fuck you now, love,” Jungkook groans. 
He starts fucking you slowly, but fast enough to have an orgasm brewing deep within your core. 
You can hear him panting as he digs his nails into your skin. Your shoes drop to the floor because your toes are curling from the pleasure you’re receiving. If Jungkook weren’t gripping your waist, you’d be lying on your belly because you’re trembling too much to keep yourself up.
“You feel like a fucking glove.”
You know he can feel your walls squeezing and hugging his cock, desperately trying to keep him inside. Your moans become louder which each slap Jungkook delivers to your ass. The pain ripples down your globes, traveling straight to your dripping pussy—leaking onto his throbbing dick.
“So deep…”
It’s not long before you’re squirting all over him. He laughs, not caring about his ruined sheets.
“There she goes.”
Jungkook then starts loosening your restraints, leaving you confused. You’re afraid you messed up, but he assures you that’s not the case.
“I need to see you,” he utters.
Jungkook frees your hands and flips you over swiftly, leaving your head spinning. He allows your eyes to focus before he lowers himself and aligns with your entrance once more. You wrap your limbs around him, bringing him closer so you can feel his warm skin pressed against yours.
Your wetness allows him to enter you smoothly. The intrusion isn’t as intense as before, but it leaves you breathless due to your sensitivity. 
You accept the kisses he leaves down your neck. He drags his hot tongue across your skin agonizingly slow while he’s buried inside you, not moving an inch until you’re begging him to.
“Baby, please fuck me. I can’t—”
“Just give me a second, love,” he whispers.
Jungkook’s mouth finds your breasts, and he takes his time giving each of them attention. Your back arches off the bed when he wraps his lips around your nipple. 
You try to be patient, but your body can’t handle any more teasing. Your hips begin to move on their own, immediately grabbing Jungkook’s attention.
“So eager,” he teases, gripping your hips to stop you.
“Jungkook, I need to cum.”
“Yeah?... Wanna make another mess?”
“Please.”
He pulls out and then with a snap of his hips, he slams into you. He does it again, and again—making you scream his name. You drag your nails down his back, making him hiss from the stinging pain traveling across his skin. 
“Do it,” he grunts, fucking you deeper. “Cum.”
“Oh, fuck.”
You stop holding it in, and finally allow the tightened coil to snap. Pleasure ripples through your body, and everything goes silent except for the familiar ringing in your ears. Your eyes roll back and your body stiffens in Jungkook’s arms. 
“Fuck! You’re squeezing so tight.”
“I’m cumming!” you scream.
He keeps fucking you, talking you through it until you finally calm down enough to relax your limbs. Jungkook’s soothing voice brings you back to reality.
“Good, baby. That’s good.”
You lie on your back, tears in your eyes as you watch him above you. His body trembles as he tries to hold on, but you know he’s close. You can tell by the way he twitches inside of you.
“This is my shit, understand? My pussy,” he claims. “Okay?”
You nod weakly, still feeling the bliss of your release.
“Yeah, it’s yours. Only yours.”
“And you’re mine too, right?”
He doesn’t even have to ask. Of course, you are.
“Always.”
You pull him closer and kiss his lips, but both of you become greedy for more. His strokes are gentle but you still gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure start to fill the room as you deepen the kiss. 
You’re dizzy by the time he pulls away, unable to focus on anything but the lingering taste of him on your lips. Once again, his voice brings you back. 
“Damn it,” he growls.
After two more uncoordinated thrusts, he reaches his peak and spills his warm cum into the condom. Panting and breathless, he falls on top of you, and you start running your fingers through his hair.
You stay in this position for only a few minutes, before he’s climbing out of bed.
“Wait—”
You try to grab his arm, but he grabs his sweats and slips away, leaving a small pout on your face.
“I’ll be right back, love.”
You sigh. “Okay.”
You wait a few minutes before you let your curiosity run wild. You begin to wonder what he’s doing, so you decide to go look for him. 
Just as you enter the living room, Jungkook appears from the kitchen with an ice pack and a bottle of water.
“How are you?” he asks, handing you the little blue compress. “It’s for your wrists.”
“I’m okay, you?”
Jungkook nods. “Still seeing stars, but I’ve never felt better.”
Silence follows, but it’s peaceful. You use the moment to take in everything once again.
“Thank you,” you say eventually.
“For?”
“All this!”
You point around the room at all of the decor he must have spent hours putting up. It could honestly have been a little stocking and you still would have appreciated his effort. You know he only did it for you, even though he wasn’t in the mood.
“I was just trying to make it up to you,” he shrugs.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.”
You smile. “Well, thanks Grinchy. But I didn’t want to force you.”
He promises that he didn’t feel obligated, and you take his word for it. It’s been a challenge but you’ve learned to accept when he offers to do something nice for you. So if it involves spending time with him, you’ll accept every gift he gives you. 
Placing the ice pack on the coffee table, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. 
“I’m trying, love,” he sighs.
“You’re doing great,” you assure.
“No, I mean… It’s been two weeks, and you’re still wearing that and…”
You realize he’s lowkey asking for round two. All you need is some water and you’ll be good to go.
“I’m on top this time,” you call out over your shoulder. You’re almost halfway across the room when he stops you.
“Hold on…”
You turn around only to find him standing there with his hands in his pockets.
“Hm?”
Jungkook lifts one of his hands and pulls out a tiny sealed bag. It doesn’t take you but a second to figure out what it is. But what leaves you puzzled is the way he’s holding it over his head.
“I don’t know much about this shit but, I think you’re still supposed to kiss me.”
Wow. He can be cute when he wants to. Of course, you return to leave a kiss on his cheek.
“That’s cute, Jungkook. But I think you got it wrong.”
“Oh, yeah?”
This time you grab his hand, and he doesn’t resist when you start dragging him towards the bedroom.
“I think I’m supposed to put my pussy on your face, then you kiss me,” you propose.
“Okay, maybe this holiday shit isn’t so bad.”
Shaking your head, you make your way through the dark hallway until you reach Jungkook’s room. 
“Wait until you see the chain I bought you,” you mumble.
“Huh?”
“Nothing, baby. Come on.”
You take him to bed, and his apartment is anything but silent for the rest of the night. This was your first Christmas together; but best believe, a lot of traditions were made.
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fetusgooseandjuice · 3 months
Text
Trust Me
Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: You haven’t been able to sleep in a couple weeks, and Natasha knows just the way to get you to close your eyes.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: None? (If anyone finds any feel free to message me!)
Author’s Note: Heyy guys! I know I haven’t posted a fic in like 6 months, but I got writers block and it just never really went away. I’m not sure when I’ll post again, but I’ve had the idea for this fic for a while and I finally got the motivation to write it. It might not be that good but I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Think of it as a little Christmas gift :)
Author’s Note Pt. 2: Also, this is not proofread because I just wanted to get it posted so there might be some spelling and grammar errors!
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You heavily sighed once again for probably the fifth time in the past five minutes. It’s been a few hours since you and Natasha had called it a night, and yet here you were at nearly three in the morning still lying wide awake.
Although it’s not as if you were surprised or expecting anything else. You’d been having trouble falling asleep since the first night you and Natasha arrived in Norway.
Despite not having gotten many hours of sleep lately, for some reason you still weren’t tired and still could not fall asleep.
When your girlfriend came to you a week and a half ago and told you she had no other choice but to leave the states in order to evade the government after the whole incident between Tony and Steve, you instantly decided you’d be going with her without a second thought and left no room for her to disagree.
After all she should’ve known you’d follow her anywhere, but you guess it’s taken a toll on you.
You wanted to sleep, and yet you weren’t sure what was keeping you up. Maybe you were worried about something happening to Natasha?
‘What if she gets caught? Or what if we both somehow get hurt?’ you thought.
But you knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and keeping you safe at the same time.
Even with the amount of times you told yourself not to worry, your mind wouldn’t listen.
You eventually sighed and turned your head to look at the redhead behind you. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you and no matter how much she shifted throughout the night, she never let you go.
The mere thought of that would be enough to bring a smile to your face if you weren’t so frustrated with yourself.
Deciding you’d had enough of laying there awake, you carefully unraveled your girlfriend’s arms from around you and slid out of bed.
You almost shivered at the cool temperature of the trailer as your bare feet touched the floor and you made your way into the kitchen.
The random plastic bags on the counter rustled as you rummaged through them in search of something to snack on, finally coming across a bottle of water and a pack of chips you’d never heard of.
As you went to open the cap of the bottle, a pair of arms slipping around your waist startled you. The yelp you let out made the person behind you chuckle, and you relaxed recognizing the sound.
“Sorry, malysh (baby).” Natasha said and you turned to look at her to see the apologetic look she had on her face.
You gave her a slight smile before shaking your head, “It’s okay. But what’re you doing up right now, Nat? You should be asleep, you need to rest.”
She dipped her head down to press multiple kisses to the skin of your neck, “I could ask you the same question because so do you.”
You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to leave the warmth of your shared bed without her noticing.
“I just couldn’t sleep.” you said, making her eyebrows furrow as you opened your water bottle and took a sip. “But I know you’re still tired so you should go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.”
“No, not without you.” Natasha was quick to disagree, “What’s going on, dorogaya (darlin)? You were yawning quite a bit before we went to bed. Why can’t you sleep?” she rested her chin on your shoulder, ready to listen to what you had to say.
You sighed realizing that you were going to have to have this conversation now. Your shoulders shrugged, “I don’t know.” was all you offered.
Natasha stayed quiet, giving you the floor for when you were ready to add on. A moment later, you did.
“I haven’t really gotten any decent sleep recently, so I’m not sure why I can’t fall asleep or why I’m not tired.”
Your girlfriend pecked your shoulder blade, acknowledging that she heard you.
“How long has this been going on for?” she asked.
For a second you went quiet, not exactly wanting to answer when you remembered that now that she knew, she wasn’t going to let it go until she made it better.
“Since we left the states.” you admitted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Once again, you shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you.” you said. “You already have a lot on your plate with this whole situation and I didn’t want to add more to it.”
You heard Natasha sigh and now you appreciated that fact that you weren’t standing face to face at the moment.
“I guess I’m thinking too much.” you added. “At night I finally get the time to actually think about stuff, and I worry about you and if you’re going to be okay.”
Natasha was also glad you weren’t standing face to face right now because if you were, you would’ve seen the way her lips pulled into a smile.
“Well if you’re going to worry about me then I think I have every right to worry about you.” she chuckled and you fought back a smile at it.
“I’m sorry.” you said.
She didn’t say anything for a few moments until you heard her soft voice with that hint of rasp speak up.
“Look at me, krasivyy (beautiful).”
You craned your neck to see green eyes which were filled to the brim with love and tenderness staring at you, the singular warm light above the kitchen sink allowing her to see your sad ones.
The frustration that’d been building up in you beginning to melt away ever so slightly.
“I want you to talk to me about what you’re going through.” Natasha spoke. “I don’t care about what you think I might have going on, you’re always my first priority, okay?”
You nodded as she raised a hand to caress your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear in the process.
“I love you too much to have you worrying that pretty little head of yours all alone when I’m always right here for you.” she pressed her lips to your temple to emphasize her point. “So promise me next time you’ll tell me if somethings wrong?”
“I promise, and I love you too, Nat.”
“Good,” Natasha smiled and leaned in to connect your lips in a loving kiss, pulling away shortly after and leaning her forehead against yours. “I’m going to be okay, so there’s no need to worry. We’re both gonna be okay, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you agreed. You knew Natasha would make sure of that.
“Alright, do you think you’re ready to head back to bed?”
You weren’t sure how to answer that. Even though you were relieved Natasha knew now and you talked about it, you still weren’t even close to being able to go to sleep.
“No,” you spoke quietly. “I’m still not really tired, and I honestly don’t know if I will be until this all blows over.”
Natasha went silent for a few moments, thinking. She turned you around to face her and moved your arms to wrap around her shoulders.
“Nat, what are you—”
“Shhh,” she interrupted your sentence, “Just trust me.”
So you did.
Her arms snaked back around your waist and pulled you into her. You weren’t exactly sure what she was doing until she began swaying with you from one side to the other.
You’d danced together before, but at Tony’s many parties. Not when you were trying to make yourself fall asleep.
“Nat, I don’t think—”
“You’re supposed to be trusting me. Do you not?”
“I do, but—”
“So shhh,” she said and you couldn’t help the little giggle you let out. “You said you were thinking too much, right?”
“Yeah.” you confirmed.
“So just relax and let me do all the thinking. I don’t want you to worry about anything except trusting me.”
“Okay.” you whispered, giving in and resting your cheek on her shoulder, allowing her to move you.
A few seconds later Natasha began humming. It wasn’t a song that you knew, but you recognized it as one of the many Russian lullabies she’s hummed and sometimes sang to you before.
The way she hummed them always made you feel relaxed and peace, and this time was no different. Because soon you started to lean into her more as you became more and more weary.
Your heavy eyelids fell shut and your head found security in her neck as you cuddled closer to it, happily letting her comforting scent soothe you.
After a couple of songs, Natasha finally looked at you to find you pretty much sound asleep.
She grinned to herself and pecked your head before lifting you into her arms, making her way back to your bedroom.
“Told you to trust me.”
~ end ~
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