need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........
I'm crazy but I'm free
masterlist and other infos || MDNI
sweet scent pt2.
perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader
summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.
warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.
word count: 6.2k
a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.
<previous chapter>
[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.
Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...
You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.
"U-uncle Daryl?"
---
Shit.
You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.
His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.
Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.
“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.
“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.
“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.
“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.
“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.
“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.
“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.
You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.
He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.
“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.
Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.
You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.
But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.
Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.
“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.
“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.
“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.
“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.
“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.
You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.
“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.
“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.
“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.
As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.
“Like how?” You asked.
“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”
Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”
“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.
“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.
“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.
You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.
“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.
“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”
“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.
“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.
“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.
“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.
“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.
“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.
“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.
You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.
“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.
You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.
“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.
“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.
The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.
The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.
“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.
Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.
“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.
You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.
In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.
In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.
After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.
If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.
“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.
Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.
“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.
He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.
Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.
“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.
You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.
You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.
“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.
Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.
You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.
Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.
He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.
“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.
He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.
Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.
“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.
Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.
You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.
Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.
Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.
His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.
If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.
As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.
But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.
Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.
Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.
Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.
As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.
The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.
Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.
You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.
Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.
“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.
“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”
a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx
taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon
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ANGEL — John Price x Reader x Simon Riley
WC: 6,048 | Part I
Deep down, you knew Simon's way of telling you it's over between you was the moment he gave you his captain's number. Every single message you left Simon was left unanswered, not even opened most of the time, leaving you hoping that perhaps he was simply busy with his missions.
His deployments are oftentimes stressful from what you saw every time he came back home to you, yet you stopped convincing yourself everything was alright after 7 weeks of no contact. Simon Riley is not a coward— not unless it comes to feelings. You're too good for someone like him, someone who could drop dead at any moment, whose only achievements come from killing, forever tainting his hands with blood he can't seem to wash off no matter how many long showers he takes.
He rationalized for months, thought about it— thought about leaving you, too. Yet that lost puppy look of pure trust you gave him every single time he fucked into you, pretty moans leaving your parted lips and soft hands exploring his clothed body, desperately wanting to feel his bare skin against yours, something he never had the heart to give you. Too tainted, too scarred, too ugly. So like a broken man wanting to keep you safe, he did the best with what he had, leaving his captain's number on your night table the moment he was done cumming.
Over 2 months later, Simon still remembers the feeling of your warm skin beneath his lips, the look of pure vulnerability and love plastered on your face, so angelic and pretty, a sheer contrast to the nervousness on his, despite how natural it was to treat you with a tenderness he's never had with anyone in his entire life.
“He fell from a helicopter?” Crinkled eyes meet yours from across the table, taking a sip of his drink before letting out a dry chuckle, nodding his head.
“Aye, hangin' from a bloody rope. Had me scared, thinkin' I lost my Sergeant.” John said with a grin, his gaze softening at the way you were listening so intently, your full attention on him no matter how boring he thought his stories were.
“Is he scared of getting into helicopters again?” You lean a bit closer to him, your chin resting on your hand as you look up at him. From this angle, you're able to admire John's features from up-close. Every single grey hair adorning his beard, his crow's feet, the tiny beauty mark on his nose, the tiny spots on his face, likely gotten from spending a long time under the sun as a soldier from a young age.
“Of course. Took him a while to trust our pilots again, now he always double checks his gear's on right.” Price always pays attention to detail, the way your pupils dilate the longer you stare at him don't go unnoticed in the slightest. He asks a passing waitress for a check, not even giving you a second to offer to pay for your half before his card is already in her hands, going away to charge him for the dinner and drinks.
“And how's… what was his name again? Soap?” He smirks at the mild confusion when using Johnny's callsign, likely assuming it's simply a sex innuendo.
“Soap, yeah. He's a good kid, kind o' like the son I never had.” That gets your attention, looking away for a second to hold back a small smirk before looking back up at him, eyebrows raised.
“You don't have children?” That earns a small chuckle out of him, shaking his head at the question. He gave the waitress a small smile as she came back with his card, pocketing it and getting up from his chair, offering his arm up to you. There's no hesitation as you hook your arm with his, walking to his car.
“Never had girlfriends after joining the SAS. Became a captain at a young age, too.” He looks down at you as you walk, admiring your pretty features, secretly wondering how Simon could have fucked up that badly— how he let such a lovely and sweet girl go. He opens the car door for you, even going as far as to help you put on your seatbelt, letting you have a whiff at his woody cologne, the smell of smoke from cigars mixing in.
“What about you? Any children?” He asks teasingly, shooting you a playful grin before starting the car, blue eyes fully focused on the road. Unlike Simon, Price knows how to drive well, making you feel safe while on the road.
“Hell no. I've been… thinking about it, but men my age were never interested in that.” Even if he was much older, Simon was never even an option. Too emotionally unavailable, too fucked up to even consider having children.
“Part of the reason I like older men.” Your voice is smooth and even, a sheer contrast to the slight knot of nervousness tightening in your stomach, only coming undone when you hear his amused laugh.
Price's calloused palm rests on the gear shift before daring to move it over to your thigh, running up and done slowly, trying to heat up your cold skin rather than doing it to be a pervert, yet your body still reacts to his touch, warmth pooling on your lower stomach.
“Really, sweetheart?” Price isn't stupid in the slightest, yet unlike Simon, his actions aren't malicious. He simply wants to see you squirm, finding pure amusement in the laugh you both share and the playful slap you give to his arm.
“Stop using your charm on me.” You scold jokingly, unable to hide the big grin taking over your pretty face.
“I'm charming now, eh?” His grip tightens on your inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to tease you.
“According to Simon, you always have.” That makes one of his thick eyebrows raise questioningly, his lips pulling into an amused smile.
“I've known him for a long time, y'know? Back when we I was an LT.” He can't help but allow his mind to go back into the past as he drives, images of the eager Simon Riley, a broken man who simply wanted to change the world, who always helped without even asking for much in return.
“Has be always been… like that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence, allowing yourself to be the cat curiosity killed.
“No.” The Simon Riley he met was not similar to Ghost in the slightest.
“He was 'round 19 when I met him. Better than any recruits I've seen.” Yet still teased by his mates for being an apprentice butcher in the past, for being so rigid and basing his entire life on discipline, unlike the many other young soldiers who have since passed.
“I bet. He has that certain look on him, you know? The eyes. I wouldn't want to mess with him.” Price lets out a dry chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. Part of him is glad that he's been working with Simon because it seems that to know more about you, he needs to know about Simon as well.
“We're here, doll.” He parks the car, getting out of his seat and opening the door for you, his calloused hand resting on your lower back, guiding you to your house. You can feel the warmth from his hand spreading all over your body, soothing rubs up and down your back as you walk.
“Would you like a cuppa?” Mirth dances in his eyes at the audacity, already knowing your intentions, and yet.
“Of course.” Price follows after you, part of him growing excited by whatever you have in mind. Your slightly shaky hands fiddle with the keys before you're able to open the door, secretly thankful that you cleaned up your mess earlier in the day.
“What tea would you like?” You ask, turning around just in time to see Price finishing the once-over he was giving you.
“This isn't about tea, is it, darlin'?” He asks with a knowing smile, his jacket slipping out of his shoulders now that you're both inside the house. Blown pupils stare back at him, taking your time to admire the strong body hugged by his tight black shirt. You can see his bulging muscles, broad shoulders fully relaxed as he steps forward, towering over you. A monument of sorts when you're small.
“If I'm lucky, I hope not.” Your breathy voice was all Price needed as reassurance. His lips crash against yours, warm hands gripping your waist tight enough for you to feel the warmth spreading all over your lower body. The smell and taste of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses, too enthralled by the feeling of his tongue wrapping around yours, a small moan leaving your lips the moment his hand trails down to your ass, groping you with care, as if you're made of glass.
“How far do you wanna go?” His forehead leans against yours as his blown pupils stare back at you, his chest rising up and down with each breath.
“As far as you want to.” A small yelp leaves your lips when he lifts you in his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his strong, muscular waist.
“Bedroom's there.” You don't even need to point— Price can see the open door, so enticing and tempting, allowing your small giggle to consume his whole soul like a siren's song. With carefulness that contrasts the brutality he uses as a soldier, Price sets you down in bed, strong arms on each side of your head, caging you in.
Your breaths mingle together as he leans down to kiss you again, warm tongues wrapping around the other, using his knee to spread your legs enough for his burly body to fit, subtly grinding against your clothed cunt.
“Been wantin' to do this for a long while.” Ever since Simon showed him your profile picture on WhatsApp, introducing you as a friend in need. He wouldn't dare confess it to anyone, not with the way his calloused hand rubbed his cock until it almost hurt, using your pretty face as a relief from the stress of war.
“Pretty fuckin' girl.” He praised, dragging a giggle out of you the moment his beard started tickling your neck, gentle kisses planted all over your warm, sensitive skin, his tongue darting past his lips to give your neck a tantalizing lick.
He can feel your hands exploring his strong body, his muscles bulging and tensing up beneath your soft palms. He only breaks apart the moment your hands go to the hem of his shirt, helping you pull it off of his body, the piece of clothing discarded on the floor.
“God…” Your whisper holds nothing but pure admiration, catching hints of his strong, muscular body, dark hair covering most of it. Your hand drifts up to his torso, caressing his surprisingly soft skin, not minding the scars you can feel beneath your hand. Price has been shot, stabbed, tortured, left for dead— his body acting as a keepsake of every mission gone wrong.
His gaze is soft as he stares down at you, holding a tenderness unlike a man like him, so naturally gentle and willing to show it without the walls guarding his heart— unlike Simon. His calloused hand rubs your thigh before drifting up to the hem of your blouse, carefully pushing it up and removing it with your help.
“Pretty girl.” His back bends slightly as his gentle lips now go to your bare stomach, planting a rapid-fire of kisses all over the soft skin, descending with each passing second, lifting your skin up to reveal your clothed cunt.
“I'll take care of you.” And he means every single word. Captain Price is a bad man, a bad man with a high kill-count and multiple war crimes to his name, yet John Price is a different story— caring and loving, so willing to fix something he didn't even break.
His eyes close the moment his lips connect to your mound, tongue darting out to get a taste at all he's been craving the moment he saw you. He lets out a small groan as the taste of your slickness overwhelms his senses, his hands roaming up and down your waist, daring to sneak past your bra, finally getting a good feel at your tits.
John is a starved man. A starved man whose only salvation is you, looking so pretty and sweet, panties wet with a mix of his saliva and your own slick. He's careful and gentle, pulling down your panties with both hands and dropping them on the floor, his breath catching in his throat when his gaze drifts down to your pussy, glistening under the light of your bedroom.
He doesn't waste any time, lowering himself again between your legs, licking a trail from your tight hole, to your swollen clit. Your legs try to close out of instinct, a whiny moan making its way out of your lips at the sensation of his beard against your cunt.
“Open your legs, love.” He whispered, running his thumb over your hard bud.
“Let daddy taste you.” He kisses your inner thigh before diving back in, licking and sucking on your clit, trying his best to make you feel good. Your moans are too pretty, your cunt too sweet, and Price can feel himself starting to lose control. His cock throbbed, his own desire growing stronger by the second, focusing solely on your pleasure.
“That's my good girl.” He whispered against your skin, sliding two thick fingers inside you. You're soaking wet yet still so tight, only making his desire grow, desperately needing to be inside you. Your whiny moans fuel him, his warm tongue flickering against your hardened clit faster and faster, mixing in with his sucking, his thick fingers curling inside your needy cunt.
Your hands run through his short hair, pulling at it softly to release some of the pleasure building in, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening up with each lick. Your chest rises up and down with each long, labored breath, muscles tensing up as the knot in your stomach finally comes undone, pushing his face closer to your cunt as his fingers move in and out, dragging out your orgasm.
He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, his blue eyes connecting with yours as he licks his fingers clean from your cum, your heart thudding loudly inside your chest.
“Fuck me.” That breathy whisper was all he needed, getting up only to slip out of his pants and boxers, his dick standing proudly. Despite being uncircumcised, you can see his dark pink tip, leaking precum like a broken faucet. Now that he's standing, he takes his time to admire your bare body, his blue eyes going to your tits when you take off your bra.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” The option is always there, and he wants you to know. His knees sink into the mattress as he supports his body on top of yours with one hand, lining his hard cock with your entrance, pausing for a moment.
“Let me love you.” He whispered hoarsely, slipping into you gently despite his primal instincts telling him otherwise. He lets out a loud groan the moment your tight walls grip his throbbing cock, his face finding shelter on the crook of your neck. A small hiss makes its way out of your lips as your legs wrap on his hips, pushing him closer and deeper, allowing him to finally bottom out.
“Bloody hell— you're so tight.” He moans out, his thrusts growing faster as you get used to his thickness. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and adoration, longing dancing within. John's lips part as he feels your long nails dragging down his back, driving him crazy with pure need.
“I'm close.” He whispers out, his hips ramming against you with increasing urgency, reaching out to caress one of your soft tits. He plants open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, his breath warm against your sweaty skin.
“Cum inside.” John's eyes widen at your words, his dominant nature taking over as his hands go down to grip your hips firmly in place, the overwhelming desire and pleasure clouding his judgement, drowning out any concerns. His thrusts are deep and powerful, making you his with an unyielding force.
As he loses himself in the heat of the moment, John's muscles tense up, the familiar feeling of pure heat pooling up within him, slamming himself as deep inside you as he can before his cock starts throbbing, shooting ropes of cum with each pulse. His breath is heavy as he slowly pulls out of you, his gaze fixated on the mess of mixed fluids that coats your pretty cunt.
“My pretty girl.” He whispers out, burly arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer to his hairy chest, allowing you to hear his fast-beating heart. His lips are gentle against your forehead, wanting nothing more than to relax with you after the intense love-making. His actions are nothing short of genuinely caring and loving, wanting to give you good aftercare, all thoughts of Simon finally out of your head.
“Want me to run you a bath?” Price asks in a whisper, planting one last kiss on your forehead before looking down, just to see your chest moving up and down slowly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, pulling you closer to his warm, naked body so you can sleep better, deciding to get some well-deserved rest as well.
The smell of eggs and tea is what you woke up to in the morning, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. The feeling of large fabric keeping your body warm makes you look down, just realizing that John put his large shirt on your body when you were sleeping, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you get up from bed, making your way to the kitchen.
“Good mornin'.” John turns around for a second, blue eyes lighting up when he's greeted by a big smile and his shirt dwarfing your body, giving you a small wink before he's back to finishing your breakfast. You take your time to admire him, so naturally handsome and masculine, his hairy, strong body only having his boxers on.
“Thanks, daddy.” You quip teasingly as he hands you the plate, a small squeal leaving your lips when he starts to chase you around the house, shared laughs ringing around.
Dating John is a sheer contrast to any expectations you had when you first got into the relationship. Despite the fact that he's often away during missions, he has scheduled delivers for flowers and your favorite foods, calling with you the moment he's available.
“What are you doin'?” Price asks with a small smirk, his gaze softening the moment his eyes meet yours, your cheek resting on his strong thigh while he was trying to complete a report. His hand goes to your head out of pure muscle memory, giving your scalp a soft massage.
“I like you from this angle.” He lets out a small chuckle, moving his leg to make your position more comfortable as you nuzzle his leg, your chin now resting on it as you adjust your knees on the floor.
“You like me in every angle.” A grin spreads on his face, his calloused hand running down the length of your hair before resting on your back, massaging the muscles tenderly.
“True, but specially from this one.” The cheeky smile you throw his way does nothing other than to distract him further from his report of the latest mission, cupping your cheek to examine your pretty features better under the light of the room, mirth dancing in his blue eyes.
“You're clingier than my shadow.” He teases, leaning forward until his lips meet yours in an affectionate kiss, not bothered by your clinginess in the slightest. He breaks away just to give your forehead a tender kiss, staring down at you lovingly. The look of pure trust and love your eyes hold drags him back to one of the many late night conversations with Simon back at base.
“Y'like her?” Simon finally dares to ask, ignoring the growing pain on his lower stomach at the idea of you dating John, even if it was Simon's idea.
“Do you?” Price quips, already knowing the reply. There's been more than one occasion where he saw Simon stare at your WhatsApp profile picture, even if your number was deleted— he still keeps your messages, using it as an odd way of finding comfort despite the growing self-loathing from hurting you.
“You know I don't do that.” There's hints of regret spilling along Simon's deep voice, his bare fingers drumming on the cup of tea on his hand.
“Do what?” He already knows the answer, and yet.
“Love. 'M gonna get the poor girl killed.” Memories of Christmas haunt him even years later, his mind momentarily taken back to coming home just to find his entire family dead. All that blood, yet all his shattered mind was able to do was laugh even as he held a gun to his mouth.
“She'll be fine, Simon. The girl knows how to handle herself. Hell, I'm getting her a better security system soon, too.” Despite being in a committed relationship with you, John knows Simon well enough to know he still likes you, in his own way. He's seen Simon break down, seen the worst and the best of him, and eventually got to see the way he built himself back up, coming back to the SAS as Ghost.
“Wha'? You want me to date her, too?” Even if he asked it as a joke, Price's silence and the subtle shrug of his shoulders speaks louder than words.
“I know what you've been through, son. Think about it, you mean a lot to the bird.” John empties the rest of his tea down the sink, giving Simon one last pat on the shoulder before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
“I'll go get it.” John is brought back to reality with the soft knocks on the entrance door, tilting his head up as you plant a kiss on his cheek. You make your way up to the door, your heart beating inside your chest when you look through the peephole, a familiar pair of dead brown eyes staring back. There's slight hesitation as your hand goes to the doorknob, resting there for a few seconds before you decide to open the door.
“Simon?” Despite the dark hoodie over his head, you can tell he hasn't been doing well, his skin looking more pale than usual, dark eyebags making him resemble more a raccoon than a man.
“'M sorry.” He mutters, hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket, lowering his gaze with nothing but pure shame.
“That's it?” Your guarded tone makes a part of him feel proud that you're not a doormat anymore.
“No. I'm sorry for… ignoring you, and for being a cunt.” His gaze finally meets yours. You can see the shame, the regret, and the pain.
“I was scared.” I wish I could tell you I survive out there because I don't want to leave you yet. Your lips part, though you decide to be quiet for now.
“I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you why this shite happened.” Despite the way his hands are fidgeting inside his pockets, he's trying his best to be as honest as possible while avoiding dumping his trauma on you.
“That's bollocks, mate.” Price's voice almost scares the soul out of you, turning around to shoot him an exasperated look. For a man his size, he moves with surprising quietness. You can feel his burly arms wrap around your lower body, bringing you closer to him.
“Give 'er a proper apology.” Despite the hesitation Simon feels, the space Price left open for him is all he needs. You can feel another pair of arms wrapping around your body, the familiar scent of cheap fags and gun powder hitting your nose, bringing you back to all those nights you shared.
It's an awkward hug, a mess of limbs and warmth that you finally decide to take in, your arms wrapping around Simon's narrow waist, bringing his body closer to you despite the way his muscles tense up at the sudden contact. You can feel him relax with your touch, his cheek resting against the top of your head.
“'M sorry.” He repeats in a whisper, his cold face finding shelter on the warm crook of your neck, the urge to kiss you again growing stronger by the second, though he remains respectful. You can feel John's cock starting to harden against your ass, making you look up and give him a confused look. His hand goes up to grip your jaw softly, his lips crashing against yours as he starts to subtly grind against you, only making the confusion grow.
Simon's hold on your body tightens, the familiar sensation of his lips against your neck drags a small moan out of you, muffled in John's mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, your breathing growing more labored by the second, soft hands curling on Simon's muscular back, barely able to hear the door closing until you decide to break away from the kisses.
“What's going on?” The nervous laugh that leaves your lips is only met by a reassuring look coming from Price, his calloused hand running up and down your side.
“Part o' the apology you deserve, love.” You don't even have time to answer— not when Simon's rough lips meet yours, the kiss nothing but a pure display of love and affection. Even a ghost can be a lovely thing when you want it to be.
You can feel John's calloused hands drift down to the pajama shorts you're wearing, sneaking a few squeezes on your ass before his hand sneaks past your panties, using two of his fingers to feel your wet cunt, spreading your slick all over. His lips are now busy on your pretty neck, licking and sucking freely, not caring about any love bites he leaves— he knows you don't mind either.
You can hear his hard breathing against your tender skin, your tongue dancing with Simon's, hands desperately sneaking under his shirt, groping his hard, defined muscles. You can feel the bulging scar on his ribs, caressing it with extra care just to show him every single part of his heavily scarred body is loved.
“I missed you.” Simon breaks away from the kiss only to whisper that in your ear, his rough hand already going up to your tit, squeezing the soft fat while all you can do is moan, the combined sensations of the strong men touching you does nothing but drive you closer to the edge, your wet walls tightening around John's fingers, forcing you to squeeze Simon's bicep to release some of the tension.
“Fuck, daddy—” Simon's breath hitches at your words despite knowing you're talking to John, his own cock throbbing at the slight whine in your tone. His hands go to your waist, holding you up as your eyes finally shut, your forehead resting on Simon's chest as John's fingers move faster and deeper inside you, lazily rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees start to buck, more whiny and louder moans leaving your lips as you cum all over his fingers, nails digging into Simon's arm.
“That's a good girl.” Price praises in a breathy whisper, delicately pulling his fingers out of your pulsating cunt, taking a second to admire the way his fingers glisten with your slick.
“Taste her.” Simon is a man with no shame. No shame at all, making eye contact with you as he starts to suck his captain's fingers, putting them in his mouth just to taste more of your sweet slick. The hungry wolf is reduced to a starving dog, a small groan leaving his lips the moment your taste is all over his tongue.
He pulls John's fingers out of his mouth once he finishes licking them clean, your mouth opening ajar when Simon's lips crash against his, your heart beating loudly inside your chest as you watch them kiss. You can see their tongues dancing together, sharing your sweet taste in a passionate kiss, Simon's grip tightening around your waist.
They break away after a few seconds, looking up just to be met by Simon's cheeky smirk. He pushes you further into the house, fingers intertwining with yours as he walks into the bedroom like he owns the place, yet in reality, it's simply something he's done way more times than he can count.
“Pretty fuckin' girl.” His hold is all but gentle as he lays down in bed, pulling you on his lap, allowing you to feel the way his hard cock bulges on his jeans, calloused hands going to your ass to make you grind against him, whiny moans leaving your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt.
You can hear a zipper going down behind you, only making the excitement grow at the idea of seeing your boyfriend's bare body again— no matter how many times you've seen it already. Price's knees sink on the mattress, burly arms wrapping around your waist, grabbing one of your hands just to guide it to his hard cock. Your hands wrap around it, starting to rub him up and down slowly until his fingers join yours, speeding up the movement.
“Tell me you wanna fuck him.” His voice is a whispered command, a dominance you've never heard before— and one Simon has heard too many times during missions.
“I wanna fuck Simon.” You confess, your back pressing against John's strong, hairy chest as you jack him off, your soft palm rubbing against his sensitive tip, dragging a small grunt out of him as you smear his precum all over his throbbing cock. His free hand goes to your back, pushing you down against Simon as you let go of his cock with a small whine of protest.
Simon is desperate and needy— that much you can tell by the way he removes his clothes with an eagerness you've never seen before. You take your time to admire his strong body, pale skin tattered by scars, yet looking so alluring. You adjust your position as he tries to remove his pants, exchanging a small laugh at the awkward position you're in.
He looks more relaxed and honest than you've ever seen, his eyes crinkling as you're getting your shorts and panties pulled down by Price, finally resting your naked body on top of his. It's a new change of pace for both of you— Simon doesn't like to give up control, doesn't enjoy being dominated, it's too personal and vulnerable, yet for you? He's willing to try anything.
“Show him how you much you missed him.” John's soft command makes you nod your head, looking over your shoulder just to feel his lips against your back, his hand coming up to your jaw to turn your face back to Simon. Simon's calloused hand goes down to his throbbing, veiny cock, waiting until you lift your hips up to line himself up to your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as your tight walls wrap around him, your back arching once he bottoms out.
“Fuck, Simon…” Your face rests against the crook of his neck, planting kisses all over his warm skin as he starts to fuck into you, the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and needy moans filling the room.
Simon's eyes are closed, fully taking in the sensation of finally having your naked body on his after so many months apart. His hands explore your body with familiarity, bringing one of your hands up to his face to make you cup his cheek, gentle kisses planted over and over on your thumb.
You're too far gone to notice John coming up from behind you, keeping you against Simon's body while his free hand rubs the lube all over his veiny cock, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at how much you're both enjoying each other. You're dragged back to reality when you feel his tip pressing against your tight cunt, already full with Simon's cock.
“It's not going to—” Price pacifies you with another kiss on your bare, sweaty back, slowly pushing in.
“I'll make it fit.” He reassures, a deep moan leaving his lips once he manages to slip his thick tip inside you, giving you time to adjust to the sensation before slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside you, pausing once he bottoms out to give you a well-deserved break.
“Fuckin' hell.” Simon groans out, his face scrunching up at how much tighter your cunt feels now that you have two cocks inside you. His short nails lightly dig into your skin, already feeling so close to the edge despite the fact you're just getting started.
You let out a short exhale once they both start moving, cocks rubbing together inside your tight walls, the sensation of being stretched this much starting to feel better by the second, every single nerve inside your cunt being stimulated. You pull Simon for another kiss, feeling his hand coming up to the back of your head just to pull you closer, wanting to feel more of your tiny tongue licking his.
You're a mess of limbs— sweaty bodies colliding, feeling their muscles tightening up around your soft, smaller body. Simon's moans are muffled by your lips, not letting you pull away from the kiss in slight embarrassment at letting you hear the neediness seeping out of his tone.
Their hips move in a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, forcing your back to arch, only giving them a better angle to fuck into you. Price's hands go up to your soft tits, squeezing and groping as he moves faster and deeper inside you, his breath hot against your ear.
“I'm… I'm gonna cum.” You manage to whisper between moans, muffled once again by Simon's rough lips. The overwhelming sensations build within you, the familiar sensation of your muscles tensing up and fingers tingling starts to grow stronger by the second, the intensity of your connection with both men driving you over the edge.
The sensation of one of their cocks hitting your cervix over and over makes you whine softly, muscles tensing up as they sandwich your bodies between them, finally letting go, your orgasm washing over you as your walls wrap tighter around their cocks, your fingers digging into Simon's skin. It doesn't take long for them to follow after you, fucking into you as deep as they can as they release a thick load into you, cocks pulsating with each rope they shoot.
They remain buried inside you for a moment, chests heaving as they try to catch their breaths. Price is the first one to pull out, watching as their combined cum seeps out of your spent pussy before he lays down next to Simon, your warm body being pulled to the side as Simon lays on his side, his cock still buried inside you even while he's softening.
“I love you.” He finally confesses, tired eyes meeting yours for a second before shutting again as Price embraces you from behind. Your leg is resting over Simon's body, making the position a lot more comfortable as you bring his face closer to your chest.
“I love you too. Both of you.” You whisper, tiredness slowly taking over your body, not even realizing that Simon is already asleep, his face buried on your soft tits. Price lets out a small chuckle, planting gentle kisses all over your warm back, his hands lightly gripping your stomach as a way to let you know he loves you, too.
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𝘽𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨
The time in which you gifted Bucky Barnes an adorable little keychain for his motorcycle.
ෆ Warnings: 18+ – MINORS DNI, fluff, insecurity, Bucky can’t stop lifting you up
ෆ Bucky Barnes x Reader
ෆ w/c: 1.2k
̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟
"Isn't this yours, honeybee?" Bucky questions, dangling the bright yellow bumblebee with a pastel pink heart in his hand. He inspects it carefully, turning it around before offering it back to you.
You shake your head, "It was, yea...but..."
Bucky stares at you expectantly and suddenly the entire idea sounded foolish. You couldn't help but envision him laughing at you, snorting at how ridiculous he'd look flying down the highway with your dumb keychain flapping in the wind. It'd stick out like a sore thumb against his jet-black bike, the rev of his engine alone probably sending the poor bee soaring into the clouds.
"I put it in there by accident," you laugh nervously, reaching out for the tiny bee. But his hands clenched tightly around the keychain before you could grab it.
Almost tauntingly he lets it hang in front of your face, staring at you with a half smile.
"On accident?" He hums. "So the keychain that's been on your backpack since the day I met you just somehow found its way into my birthday present?"
You shrug. "I took it off and must've misplaced it."
His eyes glimmer with question but instead of pushing further, he lets it go. He shrugs, "Okay."
Your face falls as he hands the keychain back to you. You squeeze the poor ball of fluff, trying your best not to belittle yourself for being so nervous.
It's for the best, you told yourself. I'm sure he doesn't want some weird form of "staking claim" on his bike. His buddies would make fun of him for it anyway. It's better if it stays with me. Yea. Better.
Hurriedly you try to direct your attention away from your thoughts, shoving the keychain into your pocket.
Your solemn expression brightens into excitement. "I have another surprise!"
You take Bucky's hand, leading him towards your living room which noticeably had a different ambiance than usual. He happily trails behind you, watching your joyous face with adoration.
Every time he's with you his brain goes fuzzy. You allow him to decompress, relax, and think about nothing besides the moment he's in. He craves getting off of work and coming straight to your apartment, still sweaty and dirty from working at the bar, and yet you run up and give him the biggest hug. "Hang on, let me take a shower, honeybee." But you'd ignore him, smashing your lips against his until he gives up rationalizing and allows you to strip him bare.
"I know it's kind of corny and if you'd rather go out and celebrate I completely understand. I just thought this would..."
He can't focus on your words. Not as he's looking at what you had done. Candles lit around the room, the whole place smelling of warm vanilla and cinnamon. Fairy lights twinkled around the ceiling, draping over the windows. The coffee table has been shoved to the side and in its place is a bundle of blankets and floor pillows. Balloons and streamers are scattered across the room, and finally, he zones in on the blue and white cake.
"Happy Birthday James!" it reads. He could tell that you made it because of the bright red heart dotting the i.
He whispers your name in pure disbelief.
"Yes?" You stare up at him with admiration. You truly love this man and want to do everything in your power to show it.
"C'mere, baby." Bucky scoops you up into a hug, hiking you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. He holds you close against his chest, kissing you sweetly. "You did all this for me?"
You nod, eyes wide as he stares at your lips. A look of pure hunger ravishes you. Bucky presses his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
He couldn't recall a time before you when his heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest. Nor a time when his eyes became so glazed over with pure adoration that he swore he'd cry right then and there. He was hesitant about this future, the new world that he found himself forced to live in. But the moment he saw your sweet smile for the first time, all that faded away.
"Thank you, Princess." You whimper as he whispers into your ear, his hands traveling up the Henley that you stole from his drawer. He didn't mind you stealing his clothes. The first time he caught you he handed you a pile of his shirts, begging you to take them and wear them as your own.
He kisses your shoulder softly. "Thank you for being here for me."
"For taking the time to know me and care for me."
His lips press against your neck, a soft groan rumbling within his throat. "I still remember the day we met...felt like the universe was finally giving me my happy ending."
You state his name breathlessly. "I'm supposed to be celebrating you, not the other way around."
He ignores your remark, his eyes narrowing as his brain begins to churn. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"
You respond without hesitation. "With everything."
"And you'll always tell me the truth, right?"
You nod reassuringly.
He releases his grip on your legs, setting you back onto the ground. "So tell me what this is about." His hand shoots into your pocket, pulling out the black and yellow bee. He squeezes it in his hand before laying it out in his palm.
"I told you–"
He raises an eyebrow, "The truth."
You didn't want to come off as too clingy and you didn't want to hear Bucky reject your gift. Thank you baby but...it's a little childish. You could hear the words flowing from his lips perfectly. He'd hate it.
"I–"
Bucky pulls you closer. His eyes flooded with warmth. "Please."
"It was for your bike," you whisper. "And before you say anything. I know it's dumb...that's why I took it back."
"My bike?"
You nod wordlessly. "I thought it'd be cute if you had a little piece of me wherever you go. But the more I thought about it the more I realized how stupid it'd probably look. I mean...none of the other guys have–"
Bucky cuts you off, lifting you off the ground and back into his arms. "Oh, baby...is this what you were hiding?"
You nod sheepishly. "It's stupid."
He shakes his head. "It's perfect. You're perfect. M'gonna tie this onto it right now, honeybee. The guys are going to be so fucking jealous when they see what you got me."
Your lips broaden into a smile. "Really?"
Bucky hugs you tightly, his hand caressing your head against his shoulder. "Gotta let the whole world know I've got the most thoughtful, gorgeous person by my side. M'never taking it off, baby. It goes where I go now."
You squeal as he races into the garage with you in his arms, flicking the lights on and heading towards his bike. He sets you down gently, making a show of the keychain in his hand before attaching it to his key ring. Happily, he throws his leg over the bike, twisting the ignition. The bike roars to life and the sight of your bright yellow bee against the black exterior makes you burst out into laughter.
Bucky grins. "See? It's perfect, baby. Told you."
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hi, my love! I’m okay, how are you? x
of course, request away!💗//
I'm good, thanks 🥰
So, i really loved the kinkoctober's fic, i think read them like a thousand times 🫣 (they're too good, sorry 😅)
I would like to have one with an innocent reader, a lot of praises (like 'my good girl' or 'you're doing so well') and maybe if he can call reader Bunny (like 'my beautiful bunny' or 'my little bunny'), also i'm really short (150 cm 😬) so maybe a little bit of size kink too? I love read about how tiny she is compared to her man 🫣
I'm an Ari's girl, so maybe with him? Or Ransom, if he inspire you more
-🌻
hey honey! don't be sorry, hehe. I hope you like what I wrote, and thank you, @lokiandbuckysdoll, for supporting me again on kofi. I love you both!
summary - you get fucked by your large man in the kitchen.
warning - smut, size difference, bunny, daddy kink, creampie.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
Ari couldn’t believe how tiny you were compared to him. You were so small that he could just pick you up and put you in his pocket or toss you around like a ragdoll as he fucks his way into you. Ari remembered how the morning had started. He had woken harder than ever after having a very steamy dream about you. Instead of using his hand to relieve himself, Ari had gotten up and walked out of the room, entering the kitchen where you stood naked in your cute little cherry apron. He felt his tip leak with pre-cum, a growl escaping him before he pounced. Grabbing hold of the back of your neck as he pushes you into the counter, lining his thick cockhead with your sopping cunt before piercing deep inside of you.
He ensured the stove was turned off, cock still nestled deep inside you, and your pathetic whimpers filled the quiet room. Ari grunted as he felt your walls squeeze and spasm around him, your tiny little hole being stretched wide by his massive member. “Jesus, bunny. You wanna relax for daddy? You’re going to cut my dick off with how tight you are.” Your tiny hands try and grip the edge of the counter, your feet barely touching the ground with how high you are, only the tips of your toes barely graze the tile. Ari’s hands begin to feel you up, rubbing your sides and gripping your hips as he begins to move, thrusting deep and slow into you, growling as you squeeze him. Ari leans over you, feeling his cock twitch at the size difference, his breath hitting your ear as he grunts. “You’re my good little bunny, aren’t you?” You whimper into the cold marble, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at his words and the feel of his cock splitting you open from the inside, your tiny body shaking against his large one.
You rapidly nod, blinking away the fat tears brimming your eyes, your plump bottom lip going between your lips at the mix of pain and pleasure blossoming inside you. “I–I am! I your good little bunny!” You whine, barely being able to speak the words properly as he continues to thrust deep into you, your mind plunging deeper into a fuzzy state. “D–Daddy!” His sizeable hairy arm comes around and locks around your throat, pulling you up and flush against his thick hairy chest. He groans, pressing his head into your hair and placing a soft kiss before picking up his pace, thrusting faster, his heavy sacks slapping against your puffy clit.
“What’s wrong, my little bunny? Are you going dumb already? Daddy’s cock too good?” He chuckles as you whimper, clawing at his large arm. His cock twitches as he notices how tiny your hands are compared to his arm. He digs his feet into the ground as he propels harder and faster into you, feeling his end approaching. Ari's hand goes down and finds your puffy little clit, flicking and rubbing it. Grunts and groans escape him as you squirm, your walls pulsating and squeezing around his thick base. “It’s okay, bunny. You’re such a good girl. Let go for me.” Soft little moans leave you, feeling your core tighten, and your vision becomes white. “Cum for me, bunny. Cum.” Your head rolls back, and your juices squirt out of you, covering the large man behind you and the kitchen counter before your body begins to sag, your head flopping forward, and your walls continue to send waves around Ari’s cock.
His thrusts become sloppy, and his balls tighten as his cock twitches, filling your little cunt with thick ropes of cum as he finishes inside you. Ari groans, holding you close to him as cum continues to shoot out of him, overflowing, dripping onto the counter and the kitchen floor. Ari presses a kiss into your hair, breathing heavily as his high comes down. “My beautiful little bunny, you did so well for daddy.”
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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Nanami as a girl dad
Nanami is a girl dad, I will not argue or fight on this but if you think he's not... i got news for you
ANYWAYS these are my Nanami headcanons as the best husband and dad and what he would do as a girl dad during pregnancy, birth, and actually raising the baby
takes a personal day off work to take you to your doctor's appointments then takes you to brunch and a movie. will hold your hand the whole time
fought HR/managers/supervisors/ANYONE for as much paternity leave as he could get
asked if he could work from home bc he doesn't want to miss a single moment of your pregnancy or newborn baby
sits on the floor to talk to his baby girl and holds your tummy saying that he's holding her hand
made 20 copies of the sonogram picture and kept them all. there's a copy in his wallet, behind his phone case, in the glove compartment, and in every suit jacket pocket close to his heart. he likes to brag about his girls (you and baby)
comes back from the store with more diapers and wipes bc "we need to be prepared"
bookmarks blog posts talking about how to bond with your baby
reads every book he can and asks the doctor more questions than any other dad who comes into the office
will ask anyone he trusts for advice, but gets defensive when someone tells him to do something differently
takes naps with his head on your lap and his lips touching your belly
has two hospital bags ready in the closet but has an emergency one in the trunk... just in case
does not sleep the whole time you're in labor even when the nurses tell him to "rest before the baby gets here"... that gets him more excited and doesn't let him sleep
tells you to dig your nails into his arm if you need to when you start pushing. kisses your entire face when the baby starts to cry and rushes to the nurse holding her to ask if they could stamp the baby's feet on his shirt/gown before cleaning her (a/n: my dad did this with me and it is the cutest thing ever. we still have the gown with the tiny feet stamped on there)
carefully takes off the shirt/gown and immediately wants to do skin-to-skin contact after you hold the baby first
follows baby to the hospital nursery and takes pictures of sleeping baby to change his wallpaper
changes wallpaper every two days bc "she did something cute" or "sticking her tongue out" or "giving me the stink eye"
loves waking up with her at night bc besides letting you rest... it's daddy-daughter time so don't interrupt
demonstrates what tummy time is while she lays on her baby bouncer (you laugh bc it's ridiculous and she's only a couple weeks old)
buys scrapbook and disposable cameras to start an album (the first of a hundred probably)
buys special clips for crib blankets to be tight and immovable around mattress bc he kept reading about possible suffocation
either way, does not like for her to sleep in her own room so he buys an extra baby moses to put in your room
has an extra diaper bag in his car bc he likes impromptu trips to let mommy rest
sulking when he has to go back to work
finds remote job within the next month
sits baby down on his lap while be works and she plays with her toy
throws an intimate 1st bday party first then a second one the next weekend to invite anyone he's ever talked to and brag about his family
literally kicks his feet and giggles with his daughter then stands up to be the most intimidating man to anyone else
tears of joy when you're pregnant again and sobs when they say it's a girl
carries his girls with him everywhere he goes
is proud that he's raising strong women who will learn how to fight for themselves. keeps reminding himself that he's raising the next generation and that fuels a fire deep inside him
let's the girls play with his hair and put all the clips they can find around the house on his head
lets his fingers and toes be horribly painted while he reads the newspaper and leaves the house with those nails
gets teary eyed on the first day of school and waits outside the school the whole day for a week (paid time off used)
can only do simple pony tails and braids but loves waking the girls up, sitting them on his lap and doing their hair while you get them dressed
making cute lunches for the girls with you is one of his favorite parts of the day
likes dressing the girls alike or the same and has a strange obsession with buying them overalls
loves playing barbie with them and lowkey has a favorite barbie
goes toy shopping behind mommy's back and tells the girls that this is the only secret that they can ever ever keep
randomly brings back flowers for every single one of his girls
takes his girls (you and daughters) on group and individual dates
makes the girls sign a contract written in crayon stating they "will love daddy forever"... frames it and puts it in his office
cries tears of joy AGAIN when you're pregnant with another girl... and looks for a bigger house
rips off door side where he was marking the girl's height and puts it in the new house. he did not believe in marking/tracing it on another thin piece of wood and said he wanted the original
takes everyone out for dessert every Friday and checks in on each kid to see how they're feeling and if they're ok
never misses a single game, recital, rehearsal, practice, ANYTHING
takes his daughters to their first self-defense class
does not believe in violence and does not condone it... but will first ask the girls if they won the fight (strongly insinuates that he will be disappointed if someone kicks their ass)
corrects the girls when needed and has a special look to tell them to stop messing around
later goes to apologize if he ever uses the look
will ask the girls for a sleepover and will throw every blanket on the floor to make one huge bed
tells the girls to follow him as he does repairs around the house or on the car bc they "need to know how it all works and how to deal with it"
is shocked when you're pregnant again (even though he likes to do a certain something that leads to babies) but is REALLY SHOCKED when it's a boy this time
reminds the girls that they have to be nice and helpful with their brother
starts all the reading and bookmarking all over again, but his time on how to raise a gentleman
raises the best little dude and let's the girls show him everything he has shown them so far
okaaaay okay i know i said he's a girl dad and a girl dad only buuuuut Nanami would raise the best little gentleman ever. AND IMAGINE A MINI NANAMI?!! ... but he's still a girl dad first and foremost
extras:
would absolutely praise his wife and randomly thank her for giving him a family
will wear a disguise and follow daughters to first date
refuses to parentify any of his kids and wants to let them be kids
constantly reminds them that they only get to be kids for a short amount of time then they have to be adults for the rest of their lives. so be silly
is always down for a quiet drive if anyone needs to clear their head
dreads the day when he will no longer he able to carry his kids on his shoulders
has already made mental plans for every possible situation the kids may create, even the absolutely crazy ones his brain has imagined
is very open w the girls and talks about safety in intimacy
leaves cute notes during bad or iffy days and writes motivational quotes on their mirrors with dry-erase markers
loves when you say he's a dilf
tries to talk to them about the stock market
passes his budgeting king crown to the kids
feels super cool when his kids brag to their friends about him, even puffs his chest a little bit
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Stray kids and their sneaky love antics | Fluff, Comedy
Pairing: Stray kids members X reader (reader is implied to have periods in Felix's part but other than that no pronouns are used)
Genre: Fluff, comedy, bullet point
Warnings: sNeAkY bois, pranking and blaming it on ghosts, lino opens your bags without permission, overprotective behavior (??), they're all playing dumb, Jeongin is one feisty boy, periods, food (sweets) , lots of TEASING
Length: 2k total
A/N: It's all just for fun I swear 😂 I couldn't sleep last night so I came up with this lmao
Chan who always puts spare change in your jacket pockets
Maybe he noticed how you always seem to freeze on the spot or apologize awkwardly every time cashiers ask you if you have any change
Or maybe this is just his way of giving you money in a way you don't notice so you won't scold him for spoiling you (again)
You don't notice it at first, but you do breathe a sigh of relief when you actually do have some coins on your next purchase
And the next one...
And the next one after that...
Okay hold up, what the-
Is your jacket pocket an endless well of fortune??? You're taking out coins but they keep coming back???
Nah just joking of course you realized it was Chan
Especially since one day you caught him, like a gremlin in the dark, hovering around your jacket in the hallway
"Whatcha doing, boo?"
He jumps and tries to splutter some excuse to you but you're not impressed
"Ah, I wanted to ask you, do you have some spare change by any chance?" You tease him and he bursts out laughing and turns beet red
"You caught me!" He exclaims, still laughing as you drag him out of the dark to cuddle with you
"You sneaky coin goblin" you tease him further and ruffle his hair
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Lee know who always puts packets of sweet biscuits in your purse/ backpack
It's a habit for him, he's a caretaker - packets of snacks for all of his kittens (you included)
You told him you liked those packets of biscuits you bought from the supermarket last time
And you told him you get hungry often when you're not home
1+1=2
Lino buys biscuits. Lino puts said biscuits in your bag. And then he acts like nothing happened, of course
So when you come home one day, and look inside your bag and go "oh, how'd this get here?" he shrugs his shoulders.
"Aren't they yours?" And you're like sir what
"No? Maybe someone put them in my bag by mistake?"
"No no I'm pretty sure they're yours." He answers and you're like. Oh. I see how it is.
"And you had absolutely nothing do to with them, right?" You tease, and he purses his lips and shakes his head no
"Well then if they're mine, let's eat them!" You explain, and Lino snatches them out of your hand lmao
"No, I'm pretty sure they were there so you can eat them when you get hungry outside."
"Wow it's so weird you know that considering you had nothing to do with them!" Oh he's trying so hard to keep a straight face but he's failing
So you put them back in your bag and actually keep them as an emergency snack. And then send lino a pic with the empty foil saying "thank you <3" and he literally replies with "thank the ghosts not me. I told you I had nothing to do with it."
The ghosts continued to put biscuits in your bag
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Changbin who always carries around a fanny pack with a tiny bottle of water inside in case you get thirsty outside
Changbin often showcases his care for others by looking after their health
Sometimes he can be a little irritating and pushy, always telling you to exercise and eat this and that and what not
You came to a compromise eventually, you're not gonna work out with him but you're gonna go out often and go on many walks
After all it's quality time, right?
But no no the mans come prepared
Always. Wether it's an intended walk for exercise or a walk for romantic vibes or you're going to the mall, doesn't matter
He always has that teeny tiny water bottle with him just so he can go like "you thirsty? I gotcha babe" lmao
Because as Changbin always says, "soda doesn't help with your thirst, only water does" 🙄
He's no fun sometimes but you still love his overbearing ass <3
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Hyunjin who "accidentally" gets paint on the clothes of his you like sleeping in so that you could keep them
They say there's two stages to falling in love with a man
First, you fall in love with him.
Second, you fall in love with his clothes
And oh boy that hoodie of his was looking mighty fine that evening
And the evening after
Hyunjin could swear you growl louder than Kkami if he tries to take his clothes back
Well then oOps. He mighty have accidentally painted wearing that hoodie and might have accidentally stained it with paint (weird that the stain looked like it was made with a brush, huh.)
You were like, "Oh no! We can wash it??" And he was like this paint is really hard to get out of the material, so you just HAD to keep it as your sleeping hoodie now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
But then it just so happened you also caught a crush on a shirt of his one day
How'd that one also end up stained with paint???
A whole ass mystery
But oop looks like that shirt can't be worn outside anymore either, what a shame.
Hyunjin smiles to himself as he sees the collection of his clothes that are purely reserved for you, sitting on the shelf he's dedicated to you.
They're just clothes after all. Objects. He doesn't care about them, he can replace them. But you're everything to him
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Han who always comes up with new nicknames and endearment terms, each one sweeter than the other
You can't lie. At first it was kinda cringe
The way he was all like "ah, my sweetie honey poo, my shiny golden angel, the first ray of sunshine of spring warming up my heart"
Ok, dork lmao
But they always made you laugh
And he loved seeing you happy
Some days he wouldn't do it and you'd instantly notice
It became a necessity, okay? To hear what ridiculous, creative mishmash of words he could throw your way
So you'd go outta your way to ask him, "so what am I to you today?"
And Jisung's brain is buffering "Uh, my lover?"
"Just your lover? What happened to being as soft and sweet as creme brulee?" He said that once. Yep.
And his eyes light up! He scoots closer and picks up your hand to kiss it
"You're the reflection of everything I hoped I could deserve in this world. My crystal ball of good fortune"
How does he keep coming up with these, nobody will ever know
But your goofy lyrical genius will do anything for you
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Felix who knows your menstrual cycle by heart and always carries pads with him
It's not that Felix paid extra attention to when you were talking about your period. He just ALWAYS paid attention to what you said
He's a man of detail
So he was listening to you, always offering to help you out with whatever you were craving or needing, and eventually he began to note down your cycle in his calendar and that somehow lead to preparing in advance every month
With snacks, asking you if pms is bothering you, if you're irritated, hungry etc
And of course he'd buy you pads for the house that's just a granted
But on top of that he also had an extra pack at his place from which he'd take one or two pads and put them inside his backpack for emergencies
He'd advise you to check if you can take days off in case the pain is too bad
And he won't push you to go out AT ALL
It's like he had two modes: boyfriend mode and older sister mode 😂
All in all he's not afraid to put in effort and he's a literal angel I'm telling you
────────── · · · · ✦
Seungmin who keeps putting candy in the pockets of your pajama pants
This one started out as a prank
He had no other choice but to get a couple of candy because the shop he bought from had no change to give him
And he won't just give you the candy, duuh
You had a habit of throwing your pajama pants on the back of a chair
His eyes landed of them and the plan locked in his head
He literally sat there and watched you put on the pants clueless. And then he URGED YOU to come to bed exasperatedly
But you were uncomfortable??? Something was poking your leg??
You take out the candy and squint at it in the dark
"What is this doing here?"
"I know right, why do you have candy in your pajamas, you weirdo."
Oh THE GLARE you gave him
Seungmin had an epiphany that night. That messing with you is fun. Oh boy.
He waited before doing it again, of course. He had to keep you on your toes
But this time you caught on the moment you pulled up the pants up your leg
"Kim Seungmin!" You exclaimed while laughing and he feigned innocence yet again. You still haven't eaten the candy from last time, so with a bunch of candy in your hand, you dropped them on the bed and began unwrapping one as you guys watched Netflix
"If you keep buying them, let's at least eat them, you fiend."
"Ew I don't want your gross pant candy." But he ate it after you thew a pillow in his face
But one time he put an entire candy cane in there and it was just jutting out of your pocket like a Christmas stocking and you literally broke into a laughter fit for 15 minutes straight
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Jeongin who will pick a fight with any person who interrupts you while you're speaking
Jeongin began to get angry on your behalf ever since you started dating
He's usually so calm, so chill
But suddenly!! if someone messes with his baby say goodbye calmness
That one guy who closed a door in your face? Literally scolded a stranger for closing a door in someone's face like that
God forbid someone pushes you on the street
He will literally sit there and teach people manners lmao
But if there's one thing about manners he hates, it's being interrupted while speaking
But if YOU get interrupted while you're speaking?
W a r
"Do you need to clean your ears? Someone was speaking."
Literally how DARE THEY interrupt his sweet angel
You could literally be talking to him about pigeons and he'd still think it's the most important thing he's ever heard
The amount of times he's sassily shushed people so you'd be able to finish one goddamn sentence
He's so disappointed in society, can you tell?
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LOVE.
pairing: pinkcoquette/Sanriolover!oc x bf!jk
genre: fluff, smut
“Sippin' bubbly, feelin' lovely”
Synopsis: you wanted to try the “pink coquette core” on your boyfriend and your poor sleepy dog
warnings: brief SMUT at the end, oc is desperate, clingy, and be waking everyone up @ midnight in the name of coquette core💀, too much love in the air, mention of jk only in his sweatpants, dirty thoughts, (pink bow should have its own warning too imo)
Author’s note: this is my very first work/drabble ^o^ I was mainly inspired by these outta pocket ‘coquette core’ videos on tiktok and it made me think about my man jungkook and my son bam (this is unedited & will probably stay that way, I just write for my own sanity)
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆
Pleaseeee my kookie? I promise it will be quick” I desperately pleaded to him as I straddled him on the couch. I showered his entire head with plenty of my sweet kisses, trying to convince him to do a foolish video that’s quite trending today. The only response I got are his arms snaking around my lower waist while he continues to watch his tv show, Bloodhound.
Early this morning, I was scrolling on my ‘for you’ page and saw a bunch of pretty and pleasing coquette videos. Essentially, pink bows were wrapped around the daintiest [and most random] stuffs including ramen cup noodles, lip oil, or even a rose toy. Do I get the pattern of the coquette trend? Absolutely not. But one certain thing I’m sure of is that I will wrap a tiny baby pink bow around my boyfriend. And it will happen no matter what it takes.
Since offering him with plenty of affection doesn’t seem to work, I had to go down with my last technique. “I will grant you three wishes if you let me do it” I whispered softly to his ear. Immediately, he grabbed the remote to pause the show that he was so focused on .
“Anything?” Jungkook eagerly asked, two round, shining dark eyes gaze upon me as they search for assurance in my words. “Anything” I guarantee, kissing his pretty nose before getting off his lap.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
“koo stay still” I complained while giggling at the sight of him attempting to awkwardly stand still with a flimsy ribbon flimsy bow that looped around his torso and veiny arms.
‘How cute’ I thought.
While trying to capture videos and a couple of photos of him, I can’t help but to flash a grin. Small things like this really make my heart so full. Spending a solid quality time with him, even if it’s doing something nonsense is a memory I will forever value.
“So cute” I mumbled, staring at my phone as I went through the images I took seconds ago.
After a minute or two, Jungkook, who’s still standing, took a loud, deep breath.
“baby are we done yet?” he whined. “Oh my bad kookie” I rushed to turn off my phone to finally give my undivided attention to him. The ribbon tied around him got unfasten by me. Finally, he can breathe freely again.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
It was midnight when out of nowhere, another light bulb popped out of my brain on what (or who) to use the notorious pink decoration for. And in this case, I won’t be able to sleep unless I accomplish the sudden idea. Somehow, I managed to escape from Jungkook’s arms securely holding onto my waist. I quickly grab two pink short strips and head to the living room. The entire apartment was filled by silence and darkness therefore I turned the mini lampshade in the corner, causing Bam to wake up and immediately have his guards up. When he recognized that it was just me, he put his head down on the floor while holding a gaze on me as if he’s questioning ‘why is she bothering me at this hour?’
“I’m sorry for waking you up this hour bammie, mama just needs to do something real quick ok?” I gently explained to the Doberman. It didn’t take me so much time to delicately tie a not-so-tight bow around his both ears. What took time was taking good pictures of him for the reasons that he’s moving too much and doesn't know what on earth is going on.
“Look at mami bam” I whispered, snapping my fingers to get his attention to look in the camera. The poor dog keeps moving his head, figuring out the thing around his ears are for.
“Baby what are you doing?” an abrupt voice spoke behind me.
Shit. Turning my body around, I got a glance at the half lidded eyes filled with pure curiosity. As I examined his tall and muscular physique, I also didn’t fail to notice that he was only wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants. And when I say only, I meant only so don’t ask me for any color of something.
The things that my mind urges me to do.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
I dropped my knees in front of him, left hand wrapped in his upper leg while the other hand softly palmed his growing tent. I looked into his eyes as I gave his clothed cock few pecks, teasing him. Instantly he gave me a nod before throwing his head back, gesturing to me to keep on going.
I wasted no time and pulled down his sweatpants till an angry, hard cock that slapped his bottom abdomen was released from being suffocated. It’s too pretty, so desperate to be touched. Using my small grip, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, directing it right to my drooling mouth. I gifted his pink mushroom tip kitty licks, then proceeded to gradually bob my head up and down greedily to his cock as if he’s my last meal.
“mmh.. so good baby” jungkook shamelessly groans, the cold room is filled with nothing but dirty, loud moans. The noises motivated me to go on and also to do the best I can to make him feel good.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
“___, you still with me?” he asked again, bringing me out in reality from the filthy thoughts that've been going around the back of my head.
“yeah.. I was just trying the ribbon on Bam” I responded breathlessly as my gaze returned to his beautiful eyes. I just smiled, as if I wasn’t imagining an obscene scene with him a few seconds ago. “let’s go to sleep” I announced as I got up from the ground.
and before we sleep, I made sure to turn my little cute scenario into reality.
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𝗦𝗛𝗘!
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚- 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳!𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘹 𝘱𝘰𝘤!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦- 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘶! 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘥,𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵!𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴!, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 “𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺“ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 “𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢“ 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬?, 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘- 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘭.
“𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨“
𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 breath began to hitch as your fingers danced into your pink panties, it’s been a long week full of assignments, projects, and tests. I felt overwhelmed due to the stress, now needing some relief. you slipped your middle finger into your pussy. You squirmed at the feeling getting used to the sensation. you pulled yourr fingers out now toying with your clit trying to make your high approach hissing as the cold air hit your hot cunt. “𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬“ you sighed giving up pulling up your shorts in frustration.
You rolled over to my nightstand grabbing your pink tray and your leftover stash realizing i didn’t have anymore. “oh i’m fuckkk” you dragged your words placing your hands over your face groaning in frustration. you picked up your phone dialing your dealers number as it popping up the contact name “𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙘 𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙧“ hitting the call button immediately. “𝙮𝙤“ you heard as soon as you put your phone to your ear hearing the deep masculine voice behind it. “heyy bae you miss me?” you joked. you weren’t joking though. You always had a little crush on chris ever since you seen him selling on campus.
“ha, what you want lil lady?” he rasped causing you to feel tingles in your stomach, his voice was so attractive to you. “i need a pack pleaseeee” you dragged your words hearing him let out a little chuckle. “the usual?” he asked as you shook your head like he could see you saying “mmhm” he didn’t waste anytime as you heard the keys jiggle through the phone, “be there in a bit mama unlock the door” he said as you hung up. You threw your phone onto your bed hopping up now walking to the kitchen to chug down some water.
Within a few moments later you heard a knock at the door as you walked over looking through the peep hole to see chris in a black beater with gray sweatpants and a baby blue hat. You opened the door revealing you in a tiny white crop top along with some grey sweats aswell. “hellooo” you dragged your words seeing the taller man hovering over you while looking down at you.
“wassup” he said smirking at the girl making direct eye contact with her. “you can come in if you like” you said stepping to the side to allow him into your house. “so here’s your shit, now run me my money pleasee ma’am” chris said reaching into his pocket handing you your smokes. “ugh you’re only using me for my money? how hurtful chris” you sarcastically shook ur head pretending to wipe tears from your eyes.
“haha how funny, how was your day though?” he asked taking a seat to your island counter manspreading watching you count your money you owe him. “um well i’ve honestly been so stressed all day, pent up with anger and stress too be honest” you revealed taking a big sigh going back to counting under your breath. “oh my poor baby, why are you stressed hm?” he asked in a raspy voice. “school, and if we are being real, i missed you” you looked at him with doe eyes. you and chris had always had sexual tension built up, but the two of you never took action due to him and his job. The two of you sat in silence as you sighed once more.
“i’m like twenty dollars short, um im sorry for wasting your time ill call you when i have the rest-“ you mumbled placing the money back into your wallet. “it’s fine baby, take the weed you need it” he sat up passing the pack to you. “oh my god? you foreal?” you asked his with one eyebrow furrowed up. “yea ah hundred percent, now since i did you a favor can you lend me a hand?” he asked now standing up hovering over you”
You looked up at the man hovering over you with sleepy eyes almost making you melt. “and what is that” you flirted looking up at him submissively. He let out a little laugh being speaking up.
“let me be your stress reliever”
“oh my fucking-“ you dragged your words grabbing the sheets as chris grinded deep into your cunt. “you’re so fucking tight baby, could stay in this pussy all damn day” he grunted slamming his hips into you the room filling up with the smell of sex along with skin clapping rapidly. you don’t know how the two of you ended into this situation but you loved every second of it
“you’re so deep!” you whined letting out a soft cry pulling chris closer to you as you clenched your pussy around his dick. “i love when you squeeze my dick with your tight fucking pussy” he whispered the dirtiest things into your ear with no shame. who knew he would have such a potty mouth?
He lifted his palm up forcing his hand into your face, “open” he demanded as you gave him access placing his two digits into your mouth. forcing you to suck onto his digits as you looked at him with smudged eyeliner and lipgloss all over your face.
“look at you, you look so pretty ruined” he smiled removing his fingers from your mouth now toying with your clit causing your back to arch. “ou fuck! right there chris, right fucking there!” you whined almost screaming in pleasure.
“fuck i’m gonna cum just looking at you, you’re so pretty baby” he began to whine feeling his high approach. “where do you want it baby? your mouth or ass?” he questioned. you pulled the man closer almost bear hugging him now forcing him deeper inside you. “i want it in me chris, i need it in me” you whined grinding up into the man.
Chris let out a loud whimper at your words, “are you sure mama, fuck you feel so good” he mumbled. “cum in me right fucking now or i might die” you overexaggerated now growing with a little anger.
Chris began to slam his hips into you at a rapid pace causing you to shut up almost immediately. “oh you want my babies huh pretty? you want me to stuff you mhm? fill you up with my cum~” he teased feeling your hole began to leak.
“fuck i’m gonna cum- i’m cumming!” he groaned filling him shoot a load into you. the two of you collapse, as chris fell on top of you now sound asleep.
“chris? chris baby wake up i wanna smoke now!”
tags💘! : @suyqa @itzdarling @chrisfavoritepepsi @starliqhtsworld @leahsbussy @imsosillygoofylol @misznsworld @musegyra @imaslut4kehlani @kottonkanditits @luv4kozume (lmk if you’d like to be added!)
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wow yeah im stealing my own cai bot is this what they call creativity????
“Smells like sweet home”
Husband! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader
tags and warns: aaaw cmon just a bit of soft thing, it colds even be safe for work! but with just a little bit of mention of sexual interaction, so still 18+ mdni!!!
psss gonna make part 2 w/ aomething morrrrre
Words count: 1,4k (and yes thats alot for me)
Leon never needed much from life: he dreamed about what all American men probably dream about. You know, a white picket fence, a housewife always waiting for him at home and ready to welcome him after a hard day's work, and a couple or triple adorable children who would run up to him, hugging him, missing their daddy. And for a long time it seemed to him that all these dreams were shattered the moment he ran over the barricades on the road leading to Raccoon City.
But that belief was shattered the moment he saw you. Beautiful, graceful, soft, just perfect for him, how could he not notice you among all the crowds of these gloomy, rude, cruel people? He felt like an insecure teenager again, noticing the most beautiful girl in school, a feeling he hadn't had in a couple dozen years. Courting you was ordinary, romantic, but nothing fancy, but it still won your heart. Or maybe it was the way a grown-up man blushed and sweated like a puberty boy when he saw you, you don't know for sure, but it was definitely something that made you start dating him.
If you ask him now, he would say that he does not even remember what happened until the moment when he knelt in front of you, taking out a modest but beautiful ring in a velvet box from his pocket. Standing in front of you at that moment, he was thinking that he didn't know what he would do if you said no, and you could swear that you saw tears in his eyes when you agreed. Your fiance looked like a tiny puppy, wagging his tail and running around his owner with joyful barking while you put on your wedding dress, asking him to stay close and help with the corset at the same time. You were amazing: the beautiful white fabric flowed over your body as if you were doused with milk, and several layers of tulle under your skirt made your figure even more magnificent. He hugged you tightly after he was done with the lacing, while you tried to chase him away, laughing kindly, saying something about you needing your personal time, when she leaned into your ear, tucking a strand of your hair before whispering.
“Then let it be as you say, I'll give you your so-called personal time, because from the first second of our honeymoon, I won't let you go for even a moment....”
And he didn't lie, he never lied to you, because no matter how much you both wanted to go to an Indonesian beach or watch flamingos, you couldn't get out of bed. Oh, how you fucked, all the food you ate was from room service, you were on the bed, on the floor, in the luxurious bathroom, even on the balcony at night, you did everything you could think of while Leon pressed against you, kissing under your ear, pleading, but deep voice purring.
“Just one more time, Mrs. Kennedy.”
Mrs. Kennedy did something incredible to you, and you succumbed over and over and over again, allowing him to enjoy you, his beloved woman, his wife... and considering how furiously he thrusted into you, the mother of his children at the same time. So neither of you were surprised when, a month after your honeymoon, your period didn't come, and the next day you saw two stripes on the test. Even twice, so that the results are for sure. You heard the joke that two positive tests mean two children, it was from Leon when he joked about it, and you slapped him on the back of the head, making him laugh, but when doctor told you at the first ultrasound that you were going to have twins, you were both shocked. In a pleasant shock, to be precise.
And this was the moment that he loved to remember every time he returned home to his dear wife, unlocking the front door with keys so quietly that his newborns would not wake up. Most of all, he wanted to throw his bag on the floor right in the hallway, along with his unbuttoned uniform, and fall on the bed, without a shower and dinner, although dinner at three in the morning is a terrible idea. When he lets out a tired sigh, hearing his vest release his chest, falling to the floor with a soft booming thud, he hears the rustling and creaking of your bedroom door, immediately tensing up and turning his head in that direction. A smile paints his face with happiness when you come out to him, in a pink fur robe and slippers in the form of pugs, coming closer, and slightly timidly spreading your arms in an invitation to a hug.
“My pretty one....” He mumbles, taking a step towards you and wrapping you in a tight hug, letting you bury your forehead in his shoulder.
“I missed you, Lee....”You gently stroke his back, running your palms over his shoulder blades when you feel his kiss in your hair. You can't help but giggle softly, kissing him somewhere on the jaw, feeling his unshaven stubble with your lips. It makes you laugh again and pull away, putting your hands on his chest with a smile. “Unscathed?”
“Kinda. A little injuries here and there, but nothing I couldn't handle, you know me.”He laughs hollowly, placing his palms on your forearms to pull you closer and kiss your cheek. “I missed you too... and our little ones.... How are they?”
“Scott is just perfect, and Melissa has become more moody in recent days.” You respond by sighing softly while his kisses make you giggle. “She is not so willing to being fed with breast, I have to use a pumper.... God, there's too much of you in this girl, you know.”
Leon laughs, quietly, so that God forbid not to wake up your children. “I don't think I've ever been able to give up on your breasts.”His lips continue to shower kisses on your face as he gradually descends to your neck, pushing back the collar of your robe. Huh. He even remembers the times when you met him in a red silk nightgown and black lace underwear… Well, after the wedding and pregnancy, your wardrobe has changed significantly. But that doesn't mean it's bad for him. Come on, he likes how homely you are!
His lips find your collarbone when he runs his tongue over your skin, sucking greedily, under your quiet but ringing giggle, and it makes you let out a soft moan. Your hands find his head with a familiar movement, intertwining with his hair as you mumble. “I don't think I've ever offered you...”
“Do you want to do it now?”His cheeky grin is audible even when you can't see his face, while he buries his head in the neckline of your robe, nuzzling into the cleavage between your breasts. He knows for sure that you will slap him on the back of the head, confusedly mumbling something about how it's something perverted, but he can't help but inhale, closing his eyes and soaking up the smell of your boobs. Those round soft tits, all big and swollen because of the milk, smelling of sweet, warm this very milk.... His children, his precious daughter and son, smell the same scent because your milk is what is always around them, so this smell is so cozy, homely, relaxing him and making him forget about all those horrors he looked at during his missions....
That's where he ends up, but not because you push him away, no. He stays between your boobs, continuing to take this bath of your milky scent until he feels... ashamed. When this process heals his mental wounds enough for him to think more sensibly, he realizes how embarrassing this thing really is. That he's literally obsessed with your boobs and sniffing them like some kind of pervert. He feels the warmth of your chest against his face for a little longer, and then pulls away, straightening up and straightening your robe. He can't help but squeeze them lightly in his palms, and before you can say anything, he looks away, clears his throat, and pats you on the shoulder, walking around you and muttering.
“Gonna check on ours.”
Later, you will find this tough, exhausted man sitting on the floor between the cradles of your children, sticking only his fingers between the partitions to hold each of the babies by the palms. A soft smile spreads across your tired face. What a cutie. All of them.
definitely p2 guys i just feel ashamed to make it as a one pretty big post, so I splitted that…..
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Warm and Cozy
Nanami Kento x F!Reader
Summary: Nanami Kento did not show up at Shoko's Infirmary after a mission for his usual checkup so she sent you to his place to check up on him.
Warnings: Smut. 18+ I am not responsible for any underaged baby reading this. Wrap that willy before doing the silly.
Word Count: Your girl got horny.
MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)
"Since when did you start doing house calls?"
"Since you stopped taking Shoko Senpai's calls and returned home instead."
Kento Nanami is still dressed in his blue shirt and tan blazer, holding the door with his hand and looking at you with zero emotions.
You can see the wretched dotted tie lying at the small dinner table behind him along with his glasses, not knowing why their site bothers you so much.
Nanami's free hand goes to his face to rub the incoming tiredness in his eyes. "Y/L/N, I'm fine. You should go back-"
"I've been threatened by senpai to heal you back to proper health or she'll fire me. So, if you don't mind, Nanami, I'd like to keep the job I finally love. Also, you are reeking of curses right now," you wring your nose in the end.
His brown eyes look at the resolution in your figure at his door before looking at the night sky behind you. He notices a moment in the corridor outside, his brows furrowing in some calculated thought.
The hand holding the door turns enough for Nanami to look at the time. And while he is contemplating something in his head, you cannot resist observing the six-foot-tall man; looking so different from what he was when you first met him.
He definitely worked out, your inner voice purrs inside your head, making you clench your office bag to resist any more stray thoughts.
"You are not going back alone at this time anyway," he murmured under his breath and stepped to the side.
"Oh!" you scoff, "I am pretty sure I can navigate my way around Tokyo at night just fine, sir. Or did you forget the time I-"
Nanami's senses are focused on the figure clad in a black hoodie coming from the other end of the corridor. The figure reached for something in the pocket of his hoodie and Nanami is quick to grab you by your arm- in the gentlest of way possible- and pull your surprised frame inside his humble abode.
You walk into the apartment and let your lungs inconspicuously breathe in the scent of Kento Nanami's safe space. And just as you expect, it smells of vanilla and beeswax.
Maybe it's the soap he uses?
The apartment is spotless. Everything has its place. Maybe the only thing out of place is you.
The entrance has you open to a cozy beige-clad living room. Walking a little further, you are standing in his open kitchen next to the kitchen island and looking at the table next to you where his tie and glasses lie.
Right opposite the kitchen is a space separated by a wooden structure made of hollow rectangular blocks housing plants, books on anatomy and humans, and a single empty space right in the middle.
The bed beyond that is covered in a grey duvet, astonishingly wrinkle-free.
Too clean, your nose wrinkles, it should have some-
Now what would make a bed that neat wrinkled and dirty, your inner voice whispers in your ear, spiking up your heartbeat.
"Would you like some tea?"
You jump at Nanami's voice, turning around towards the kitchen.
The man is already rolling his sleeves up and putting a kettle on.
"Yes, please," you plead softly, walking towards the kitchen island, and picking up his tie on the way.
"Did you meet the new kid yet?" you ask him as your hands and eyes get busy with the tie, wrapping it around your neck to try your hand at the few knots you learned in school.
Nanami opens up a drawer to take out two mugs- one purple and one grey- before turning towards the island.
There is this tiny second of a moment when he pauses to look at your fingers busy with the fabric that is practically a part of him. But he is quick to regain his usually stoic momentum even though his eyes keep going back to how carefully your fingers are running over his tie.
"Gojo's kid?"
You break into a chuckle, your eyes closing in the tiny flash of elation, never seeing how Nanami's eyes follow the moment of your head as it dips back and then tilts sideways.
"Well, you're not wrong in a way. His name is Yuuji. Yuuji Itadori. He's a really cute kid." You have finally made a passable knot and are trying to pass the other end through. "I was assigned to check him up yesterday and that boy made me laugh the entire time."
Nanami is just standing there with his arms folded when a whistle starts to form at the mouth of the kettle.
"And he is so pure, Nanami! He let me explain to him the culture samples in Senpai's lab and he looked at every single one of them with the same excitement as he did the first one."
The whistle goes harder on that kettle.
A fresh pack of Hojicha tea is opened. Nanami's rugged hands are careful with the bits they pick up to sprinkle in the earthen pot waiting for the brew time before the boiling water goes in.
"Oh, I love him! He's so precious." you declare in excitement.
You do not notice when Nanami comes to stand in front of you. You notice his hands first; when they come to take over the tie from your hands.
"I haven't washed it yet. It might still have some curse blood on it," Nanami slowly announces before delicately pulling the tie up your head.
"Oh...right. My bad."
Moving the tie away from your head, his hand unconsciously comes back to undo the mess he made in your hair, making you pause a breath.
Stop, you tell your insides, trying to shake away the gentle gestures as something more.
.
Your tools are neatly arranged on the dinner table. Nanami sits on a chair.
"See? Nothing to worry about," he declares in his usual nonchalant way as you are done examining his head and arms.
"Not so fast, love. I still have to scrutinise the rest of you," you warn him sweetly while you rub your palms together and walk behind the chair.
Nanami's head tilts a little in your direction.
"Okay....love."
Your hands freeze behind him. The word vibrates inside you with his voice.
Oh fu---haaa----Focus!
"I need to run the energy down your spine." You try your best to sound composed.
He undoes the first two buttons on his shirt and lifts away the collar, exposing his neck and shoulders to you.
"Tell me if it gets uncomfortable at any point," you announce softly before gently putting your hands on the back of his neck to observe for any anomalies.
What you don't get to see is the rugged hands of the Grade 1 sorcerer curling up into a fist at the first touch of your fingers on his exposed skin, or the goosebumps on his arms and back as your fingers do a little stroke at the nape to guide the energy down his spine.
"Oh, this is not good," you state, stepping away from him to look for something inside your bag.
"What?" Nanami almost blurts out, not really sure what the question was for- the 'not good' part or your hands- that seemed to bring him some much-needed relief- not touching him anymore.
Taking out a small maroon spherical crystal from your bag, you look Nanami straight in the eyes. "Take off your clothes. We're getting in the shower."
.
The shower head is fixed back into place by your fingers. "There," you exhale and come down from the stool to give one final look of satisfaction at your work.
Nanami is standing at his bathroom door, leaning on the doorframe, observing you. You are out of your overcoat, exposing your usual colourful self in a sweater, a skirt and skinny tights. This is the first time he has seen you wear a sweater in blue. It suits you, he thinks to himself, though it irks him to imagine if it ran up your waist like it is doing now- when you are adjusting the angle of the shower- when you travelled all the way from Jujutsu High to his place and if anyone else dared to see you like this.
"I've fixed the disinfectant in your shower head. Now just stand under the running water for about a minute or so and I'll take out the curse sample."
Nanami looks at the shower head and then at you. "How lethal is the infection?"
"Oh," you shake your head, "not lethal if we do this right now. Lethal if you let it sit overnight. I am going to take the sample back to Shoko Senpai for culture study and antidotes. It'll wash away in no time, don't worry about it."
"I'm not worried for me," he mumbles.
"Hm?" you furrow your brows in confusion, which melts away at the speed of light when the man unbuttons his shirt, taking it off and neatly stacking it in the laundry basket next to the sink.
It takes you some time to let the beauty of Kento Nanami's body seep into your mind. It also takes one long inhale to realise that Blazer had been hiding a sculpted Renaissance art underneath it.
But your brain goes to hell when he takes off his trousers and stands there in his black boxers, revealing some incredibly toned legs.
Oh, mother of curses!
Embarrassed for looking at him with budding sinful thoughts, you turn around in the shower temple to smack your head into the towel rack.
Cursing under your breath, you walk out of the tiny space with your gaze on the ground. "The infection is on your left shoulder blade...o-on the back."
"How bad is it?" Nanami tries to take a look at it in the wall-length mirror on the sink.
"I've handled worse. It's okay, you can trust me, Nanami." you shrug at his reflection in the mirror with a smile.
"I do, Y/L/N-" Nanami takes off his watch and places it beside the sink, leaving that sentence hanging, leaving you blinking at your own reflection for a moment.
Nanami steps into the shower temple, turning on the shower and letting his left arm and shoulder soak in the cold wetness of the water.
Soon enough the infection starts to wriggle and make screeching sounds as the energy in the water starts killing it.
Grabbing the container from your sample kit you step into the space. "I'm taking a sample now."
A few mud-coloured droplets that are still screeching are caught in the container while the rest of them are washed away in the water and down the drain, leaving Nanami's body healed to its original perfection.
"Feel better?"
Nanami does feel better. He can feel all the tiredness leaving his body with the water. He turns around to tell you the same.
You are looking at the container and about to walk out of the shower temple. "Let's get you back to the lab to Senp-"
Your words get stuck in your throat when your foot slips on the wet tile and your hands are grabbing at the air to break your fall.
The air does not break your fall. But Nanami does. His one hand is quick to cushion your head from hitting the wall while his other hand grabs your waist and pulls you to himself. Fearing not to make you fall for a second time, he backs into the wall behind him for support, bringing you both under the shower.
The container falls on the tiled floor as your hands grab onto his shoulders for support and your heart tries to get accustomed to the fear of the fall.
Neither of you move for a moment. Neither of you wants to in fear of doing something the other might now like in such close proximity to each other.
Close proximity? You both are grabbing onto each other as if your lives depend on it.
"Y/N? You okay?" Nanami finally whispers when he does not feel you move for a long while.
"Yes," you breathe, moving your face away from his shoulders- which are welcoming and hot- and facing him. "Sorry. I slipped."
Before Nanami can point out the futility of an apology that is not your fault, you smile and move your hands through his hair. "Aw shucks! I ruined your hair. It's wet now."
That does it for Kento Nanami. That one brush of your fingers in his hair reverberates through his whole body.
"Stop, Y/N," he refrains from growling.
Your hand immediately retreats from his head, pausing in the air and wondering with lost eyes if you did something wrong.
Ah, shit. He doesn't like his hair messed with.
"Stop giving me wrong ideas," he whispers, turning off the shower with his free hand.
"Wrong...what?" your voice barely rises above a whisper.
"Stop it."
"Stop what?" You try to wriggle out of his hold, a little hurt at the assumptions you are making in your head. "I'm sorry for messing your hair."
"My hair isn't the only thing you are messing with."
You scoff, feeling offended. "I'll fix it, okay! Your hair and whatever else I messed with."
Nanami runs his hands through his hair and you have to gulp back some things that rather not come to your lips.
"Are you sure, Y/N?" Nanami looks you in your eyes with a stare you have not seen him with. And you don't want to curl up or back down, so you match his gaze with yours.
"One hundred per cent."
"So, would you be okay if I kissed you?"
The question catches you off guard. But not in the way it is supposed to. "Why would I not be okay?" you scoff. Only after you have given the answer does your brain realise what the question was.
Nanami does not waste time. His lips are on yours within seconds. His arm wraps itself around your waist to bring you closer to him.
Your hands do not know what to do at that sudden kiss. It is when Nanami draws himself away to look at you do they find themselves caressing the dip of his jaw and welcoming him back for another kiss.
Your tongue licks his lips, inviting him. Nanami lets his tongue dance with yours, bringing out a guttering moan from your throat; a moan that heats up something inside the sorcerer forcing him to lift you up by your thighs, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the bathroom to his bedroom.
He is careful when putting you down on his bed.
Oh! The grey duvet.
But that duvet is the least of your concerns right now when the six-foot-tall man stands at the edge of his bed wiping the water off his face, breathing a little heavily and looking at you with...what was that emotion in his eyes?
"Tell me to stop if you don't want to..." he whispers.
"Don't," your voice cracks. You can visibly see him pause his breath for a second. "Don't stop."
The dim lighting in his bedroom is perfect for watching him as his shoulders relax.
He gets on the bed, one leg at a time, dipping the sheets around you with his weight, crawling to catch your lips with his.
Your hands are nervously working on your sweater's buttons under him. He moves away to help you with it, forcing out a tiny wince from you; getting a low chuckle out of him.
Your skirt's zipper is stuck, not budging when it should be sliding down like a seal on an iceberg. Nanami is being as gentle as possible with it but it's all going in vain.
That's when you feel him dig his fingers in over the edges of the fabric near the zipper, your skin heating up where his fingers are in contact with you.
"Y/N-" he looks up at you with embers of unflinching will in his brown eyes, "let me buy you another skirt tomorrow."
The sound of the rip registers after the fabric comes apart in your brain because your eyes are too busy studying how his shoulders tense up just to get you out of your clothes.
The tights are next. But they are taken off with the most delicate touch by the sorcerer. So is the underwear.
He starts by planting kisses on your thighs, moving slowly to the inside while making your nerves light up at every touch. And if that is not enough, his hands tease and massage them to relax you every time you tense up.
He inhales the smell of your core as if he is breathing in the fresh waterfalls in the forest, and then sits back up. Lifting you up by your waist, he rolls to the other side of the bed with him at the bottom and you at the top. He adjusts your thighs on either side of his waist before dragging you further up his torso.
You watch in confusion as he takes the support of the head of his bed and slides further down.
"Sit on me," he announces.
"....what?"
"Sit on my face," he does not stutter.
But you do. "N-Nanami."
He simply lifts your thighs up and brings your core closer to his face.
Do I weigh anything to you?
His hands push your thighs apart, letting him get better access to you. You are not putting your weight down and taking the support of the headboard instead, worried about suffocating him.
But the first flick of his tongue on your clit makes you jump up.
Nanami is quick to anchor your thighs with his hands, forcing you to put all your weight on him. He starts what seems like an incantation being written with his tongue inside you.
Sucking and licking, flicking and teasing, he is your very own roller coaster of pleasure tonight, making you writhe with pleasure under his touch.
And lo...you can feel the wetness gather around your walls.
"Nanami-" you are trying your best to breathe right- "I'm gonna-Nanami. Wait. I'm gonna pee. Ah!"
This man keeps touching all the right nerves again. And again. And again.
You are being driven to the edge. "Nanami stop!"
And he stops for a minuscule second, giving you a window to lift yourself up and flop on your back next to him, trying to bring your lungs back to normal.
"Did it hurt?"
Nanami's hand comes to move the stray strands of your hair away from your face glowing with sweat under the dim bedroom light.
He is looking over you, half up on his arm while his other hand is caressing your face. "Y/N, did it hurt?"
You shake your head. "No. No, I just felt I was about to pee and I didn't want...to do it...over you."
You can see his lips glisten with your juices. He closes his eyes and licks his lips before rolling to the other side, sitting up at the edge and eventually getting up.
The light coming from the bathroom perfectly draws out the cuts of the tensed muscles all over his body while his back is still towards you.
Wait...is it over?
You can see him curl his hands into fists before releasing them and finally walking the length of his bed to come to your side.
You rise up on your elbows.
It's over, isn't it? Your inner voice is smacking you left and right, blaming you for stopping the pleasure harp of a lifetime just as it was about to reach its crescendo.
He goes for the chest next to his bed, opens the top drawer and takes out a small packet that glistens under the scarce light.
"Next time-" he removes his shorts, freeing his already hard length, and gets up on the edge of the bed in front of you- "when you are on top of me-" he tears the packet with his teeth and takes out a condom, pumping his length with his free hand- "I have already played out the probabilities of me suffocating in between your thighs-" he puts the condom on his length and then rests his arms on your raised knees, finally looking into your eyes with a passion you have not seen in him before.
"Next time-" he bends a bit forward to lean in for a kiss and undo the hook of your bra- "waterboard me."
Your bra is on the floor. His hands cup your breasts perfectly, massaging them as his kisses grow intense with every passing second. Then he moves onto your neck, biting it in places before licking the heat away.
Parting from you, he takes one pillow and places it under your head, another between you and the headboard and the last one under your lower back.
Letting his cock gather the juices on your edges, he looks at you while taking his time to enter you.
Both of you feel your breaths cemented in your throats letting you get accustomed to each other. He leans closer to you, planting a kiss on one of your cheeks while caressing the other with his hand. "You okay?"
You nod, feeling your walls adapt to his length.
Nanami drives out before slowly driving himself back in, giving you time to adjust to the pace. Once he knows you are comfortable, he lifts up your legs in the air and brings them to rest on his shoulders.
This time when he drives himself into you, you can feel your core light up with a different brand of intensity, leaving you to gasp for air and letting a moan slip from your throat.
Nanami smirks to himself and plants a kiss on your ankle. He has found your spot. He increases the pace a bit, loving every second of your view; as your breasts bounce to his rhythm, as you try to hold onto his duvet and his pillow, as your eyes close and your head dips back when you feel the pleasure spots light up and your moans get louder. He is loving every moment of you because you are his pleasure.
"K-Kento!"
His name from your mouth feels like a prayer, making his core shudder.
"Yes, love," he sputters between his strokes.
"I'm-ah-"
You don't get to finish your sentence.
He can feel your walls tighten around his cock, undoing his restraints and making him grunt.
He fastens his pace, the squelching and clapping of your bodies growing wilder. Taking both your legs in the hold of one arm, he lets his other hand go down to your core. His fingers find your clit and rub it to let you have your release as he starts feeling his length swell up.
Soon enough, the damn you feel rising up breaks, leaving you with shuddering legs.
Nanami elongates your orgasm as he feels his length at the edge of the eruption. Soon enough, he finds his high with one guttering growl leaving his lungs.
Sweaty and breathless, the both of you.
Nanami is spent; lying on top of you.
You run your hands through his hair as he rests his head on the nape of your neck to catch his breath.
Getting up on his arms, he looks at you with concern. "Are you okay?"
You can't help but smile as the edge of your eyes water up. Cupping his face in your hands, you bring him closer for a kiss.
Nanami carefully gets his length out of you before going straight for the bathroom. You hear the tap run for a few seconds before he comes out with a wet towel to clean you up.
The condom is disposed and you are directed into the bathroom to take a shower. Nanami joins you a few minutes later, planting soft kisses on your back.
Layered up in his oversized black t-shirt and grey shorts, you come out to find the grey sheets gone and a purple duvet waiting to greet you.
Just as you are looking at the new sheets, a needle of anxiety pricks you in your chest.
Do I stay? Do I dress up and walk out? Is...this...was this a one-night...
The thought makes your heart sink.
"Get in," Nanami orders you as he comes out of the door in a white t-shirt and grey shorts, raising the duvet from the edge for you.
The sinking heart rises up a little from the depths of darkness.
You get under the sheets and watch as he moves- first to the edge of the bed to keep something in the empty partition cubicle, and then- to the other side, switches off the lights and gets under the sheets.
You slide down the sheets while your heart rises a bit further.
You feel his arm looking for you under the sheets, finding your waist and pulling you closer to him.
He extends his arm to let you rest your head on it.
The light from the city outside is enough for him to watch your face glow and your eyes search for something in his. He moves your hair away from your face and caresses your cheeks.
"Nanami?" you whisper, still not taking your eyes off him.
"Hm?"
"Do you...like me?"
Silence.
The calm of the apartment is broken by Nanami's chuckle.
"Oh. Y/N-" the depth of his voice reverberates through his home as he exhales your name still titillates your core- "what will I do with you?!"
The maroon crystal rests on the once-empty space in the partition in Nanami Kento's home.
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Good Vibrations | Jake Seresin x Reader |
SUMMARY: Making a bet with Jake Seresin never involved low stakes. This time, after losing to your boyfriend, his "winnings" included you testing out a new sex toy he picked up — not only in public, but in a last minute decision of in the presence of both strangers and your friends. Surely you could be discreet. This would be a cakewalk... Right?
WORD COUNT: ~3.08K
WARNINGS: THIS BLOG IS 18+ SO JUST ASSUME ANYTHING GOES. MINORS DNI. Swearing, alcohol mention (no one is drunk but worth mentioning), smut, softdom Jake, voyeurism, exhibitionism, edging, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dumbification (affectionate), Jake being a smug bastard.
A/N: I wrote this for this request I received a while back! I hope you enjoy!
“A bet is a bet, darlin’. I don’t make the rules.” Jake smirked. You tried your best to convince him to save his little game for another time, but he wasn’t budging. At all.
“Yeah, a bet we made before agreeing to go to the bowling alley with Bob and Phoenix. And actually, yes, you did make the rules.” You whined as you gripped his hand tighter, forcing a smile on your face as the two of you approached the small table that the pilot and WSO were waiting at.
After a few rounds passed, Bob and Natasha were absolutely destroying you in duos.
“I thought you were good at this game, Bagman?” Natasha quipped tauntingly after Bob rolled yet another perfect strike. He now had a turkey when neither of you had gotten anything better than a spare during the entire game. You were getting absolutely creamed; it was embarrassing. Yet somehow, contrary to any kind of normalcy, neither of you seemed to care. “You talk a lot of game for someone who’s losing by an embarrassing amount already.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky my mind is elsewhere tonight or else you’d both be going home cryin’ to mama.” Jake chuckled before he dug a couple of shiny quarters from his pocket and bounced over to the jukebox. How he managed to be so cocky while actively losing was beyond you – any other time, he would be sore about it for two weeks minimum. Natasha raised a brow at you, amused, and you returned a playful eyeroll.
“I’ve never known you to focus on anything other than winning, so I’m calling bullshit.” Bob scoffed before offering a lopsided smile to meet your sheepish gaze.
You watched Jake curiously as he seemed to be intently searching for a specific song, and not long after, The Beach Boys’s Good Vibrations started to bump throughout the half-empty, neon-lit bowling alley. Your face fell when he swaggered back to the table with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You thought that maybe he had forgotten about your arrangement until you felt the cool metal of the tiny remote being lightly dragged up your bare thigh under the table when he sat back down. You shuddered before sending him a warning glare. Natasha expertly sent her ball down the lane, and as soon as it collided with the pins, a powerful vibration from inside your underwear sent electricity through your core. You lurched forward and a guttural groan flew from your mouth before you could stop it. Bob whipped his head around to face you, concern evident on his face.
I’m pickin’ up good vibrations
She’s giving me excitations
“Are you alright?” Bob asked, reaching a comforting hand toward you.
Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you, along with your stool, closer to his side. His touch was the only one you would know when you were turned on, and he was not about to let another man put his hands on you while you were already teetering on the edge of euphoria. You began to scramble for a response as Jake upped the strength of the vibrations by one level.
“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. Just – just bummed for you that it wasn’t a strike. Phoenix, your form was per… perfect.” You stammered; your knuckles turned white as you tightened your grip on the edge of your chair. Jake shoved a fistful of nachos in his mouth to hide his smirk, which earned a suspicious look from Bob.
“Ugh, I know. I got the next one, though.” Natasha chirped at your compliment with a confident wink before turning on her heel to retrieve the ball to roll for a spare.
Jake brought his hand to rest on your bare thigh and began rubbing circles on your skin with his calloused thumb. The combination of the vibrations and just this simple contact from his hand was giving you goosebumps. You adjusted your position on the uncomfortably hard plastic of your chair.
“You okay, sugar?” Jake asked innocently. You shot daggers at him. The corner of his lips quirked upward.
When I look in her eyes
She goes with me to a blossom world
“Just peachy.” You replied curtly, exhaling slowly through your nose.
His pinky slowly trailed further up your thigh until it was brushing along the edge of your skirt, his middle and ring fingers teasingly pushing up and down between the plush of your thighs. You pressed your legs tighter together to halt his cruel teasing as he smugly watched your eyebrows furrow. You tried to keep your breathing even as you watched Bob and Natasha, who were thankfully too lost in their climb to victory to notice what a menace Jake was being.
I don’t know where but she sends me there
(Oh, my-my, what a sensation)
“You’re up,” Bob nodded to Jake. Jake was quick to pull away from you as he popped up and strode over to take position. He kept one hand in his pocket as he eyed the lane and readjusted his aim a couple of times. “One-handed in a way that you couldn’t care less. What, d’you give up already?” Bob teased. Despite him being on the opposite team, you loved when Bob would start to smack-talk after a few beers. He really came out of his shell whenever it was time for a little friendly competition.
“This is how a real pro operates, kiddo. Take notes.” Jake responded without breaking his focused gaze on the pins.
“Yeah, let’s see how far that gets you.”
And with that, Jake took his shot and rolled a perfect strike; and in doing so, he upped the vibration strength in his pocket the moment the ball collided with the pins yet again. A higher pitched moan left you and you did your absolute best to disguise it as a celebratory cheer. You were relieved when it seemed to pay off. Bob’s jaw was slack as he marveled at Jake’s shot.
“That’s how the adults play, Baby On Board,” Jake chided as he made his way back to his seat next to you. Bob rolled his shoulders back with a grimace as he muttered to himself.
Gotta keep those lovin' good vibrations a-happenin' with her
“You’re up, chickadee.” He grinned at you, subtly adjusting his jeans to conceal his growing erection as he watched your face. Your eyelids were struggling to remain open as the sensations took hold over you. The mischievous glint in his eye was as prominent as it ever could be. You narrowed your eyes at him as you stood, a little unsteady on your feet as the vibrations against your increasingly dripping core remained constant. You pick up your ball from the rack and move to take position. Your senses were overwhelmed as the consequence of Jake’s winnings kept at your clit; everything was suddenly too loud, the entire joint smelled overwhelmingly like beer and fried food, and now you were squinting against the pink and blue of the neon that was reflecting off the recently waxed wood. You took a deep breath and aimed your ball before sending it flying down the lane. You thought that now that you were front and center, with everyone’s eyes on you, you would be safe from Jake’s antics. You thought wrong.
(Ahhhhh!)
Your ball sped toward the pins and collided, successfully knocking them all down and earning yourself a perfect strike – your first of the night.
Good, good, good, good vibrations
The biggest grin found its place on your face and just as you jumped up to celebrate, you fell to your knees with a high pitched whine as Jake upped the intensity by several levels. Bob flew out of his chair to kneel beside you, placing his hand on your arm as you trembled, your head bowed to the floor. Jake’s skin burned as he watched Bob’s hand on your skin, but he let it slide. This was his doing, after all. Jake stood from his chair and was behind you immediately as he turned the toy off with the remote in his pocket. You bit your lip to conceal your pathetic whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Natasha questioned in a rush as she dropped her knees to the floor beside you.
Good, good, good, good vibrations
“I’m okay,” you reassured them, exhaling slowly and keeping your voice steady. You couldn’t do this much longer. The desperation for relief was overwhelming you. “It’s just really hot in here. I think I just need to splash some water on my face.” Natasha glanced down at her jacket – she was freezing, even with the alcohol in her system – but she nodded nonetheless.
“Do you want me to go with you?” She offered, standing slowly and steadying you against her elbow as she pulled you up with her. She searched your face with genuine concern. It kind of made you want to elbow Jake in the ribs for making your friends think there was something seriously wrong with your health at the moment. You flicked your eyes back over your shoulder to meet Jake’s — you could tell he was struggling to keep a straight face at this point. His lips quirked as he watched you, bringing a firm hand to rest at the small of your back and teasingly rubbing underneath your shirt with his thumb. Your breath hitched. You shook your head rapidly at Natasha’s offer and waved her off, offering an appreciative smile. Jake’s features were only half-apologetic as he pulled you against him and leaned down to give a chaste kiss to your forehead. You playfully sighed in annoyance at him. You agreed to his terms when you made the bet. You just didn’t think he would be so remorseless in his use of the new toy in public.
Bob shifted anxiously on his feet as he observed you, subtly bopping his head to You Dropped A Bomb On Me by The Gap Band that was now playing on the jukebox. You bopped your head in time with him with a small smile and watched him visibly relax.
“It’s just hot in here. I’ll be much better when I come back.” You reassured them again as the trio watched cautiously. Jake’s eyebrow quirked as you passed him. He knew what your plan entailed and he wasn’t too thrilled about it.
You hurried to the bathroom, quickly locking yourself into one of the stalls and leaned back against the cool metal of the door. You bit your lip to keep yourself quiet as you dipped your hand into your underwear, desperate for relief and suppressing a moan when your fingers ghosted over your sensitive clit. You didn’t even bother to check if the bathroom was empty – frankly, you were too on edge to care. After a few minutes, Jake excused himself to go check on you. He looked both ways before practically flinging himself into the women’s restroom and closing the door behind him hastily.
“What’s got you so worked up, baby?” Jake drawled after making sure it was just the two of you in the room. You whimpered at him quietly. He took a moment — finally alone — to adjust his pants more openly and palm over his hardening cock. He took notice of your feet under the stall door and imagined the way you were positioned. He pictured your brows knit, bottom lip between your teeth as you ran your fingers through your folds and desperately grinding down onto your hand for relief. He was painfully hard just at the thought of it. Jake locked the bathroom door behind him — whoever might have needed to come in here could wait.
At the click of the lock, you were out of the stall and on him in a flash, desperately pulling him against you and attaching your lips to his. He grinned into the kiss as your lips moved feverishly together. He secured one hand against the back of your neck and his other on your hip as he walked you backward until your ass was hitting the counter. You sighed into his mouth, running your hands down the front of his torso and pushing your hands under his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch and you wanted nothing more than for it to be against yours. You gently raked your nails down his abdomen and pulled his hips closer to yours by his belt loops. He hummed. “You’re breaking the rules.”
“Don’t care,” You took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged gently, whimpering when he lifted you enough to position you on the very edge of the sink. “Need you.”
“Need me, huh?” Jake teased, leaving your swollen, kiss-bitten lips and attaching his own to that sweet spot under your ear. He pushed your legs further apart with his knee before slotting his thigh between yours. “You wanna be a good girl and hike up your skirt for me?”
You whined pathetically at his words as you pulled at your skirt and ground your heat onto his thick, denim-clad thigh. He continued to leave a trail of hot, opened-mouth kisses down your neck and chest before yanking your top down to attach his lips to your already-peaked nipple. He took his hand from the back of your neck to knead at your other breast, pinching your nipple between his index and middle fingers. You sucked in a sharp breath and threw your head back with a moan, grinding down onto him a bit harder. He grinned against your skin as he quickly flicked over your nipple with his tongue before switching to the other.
“I got you, pretty girl,” Jake cooed, snaking the hand that was firmly secured against your hip to the apex of your thighs. He moaned lowly at the feeling of your wetness-soaked underwear, slowly rubbing small circles over the fabric. It wasn’t enough. You whimpered, grinding into his hand and digging your nails into his biceps. “So wet for me. You been thinking about me touching you all night with that vibrator against your cunt?” You could do nothing but nod weakly, your head resting back against the bathroom mirror. “Use your words, darlin’.”
“Yes sir,” You mewled.
“Good girl,” Jake grunted, flicking your nipple with his tongue once more before releasing it with a pop! He dropped to his knees and pulled your panties to the side, wasting no time in spreading you with his fingers and licking a thick stripe upward before plunging his tongue into your weeping hole. “Weren’t exactly trying to hide how good I was making you feel, were you, baby?”
“Oh, my fucking –” You jolted. Jake attached his lips to your clit, alternating between licking and sucking as he brought his middle finger to push into you slowly, gliding in and out of you with ease. Your fingers wound into his blond tresses and you eagerly tugged at his scalp, earning a pleased, guttural groan from somewhere deep in Jake’s sternum. You were already so close after being practically edged all night long.
He pulled your thighs over his shoulders before pushing his ring finger into you now, curling his digits upward against that spongy spot in your walls and pumping them into you at a steady pace. You let out a long, high pitched whine as he hit the perfect spot over and over and over and over. He moaned and relished in the feeling of your heat clenching snugly around his digits. Your brain turned into mush – you heard his voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. “I – I’m – Jake, I can’t –”
“You sound so pretty when you moan for me, baby,” He smirked against your skin as he watched your fucked-out expression. Your eyes screwed shut with your eyebrows sloped and your mouth agape – it always drove him crazy. “What, can’t take any more? Forgot how to use your words now?” You could do nothing but cry out and nod rapidly against the mirror. “My poor baby. Taking my mouth and fingers like such a good girl.” He hummed against your clit and you choked out a sob, tears streaking your cheeks now and desperately grasping his hair. You were so, so close, teetering on the edge and waiting for him to push you over like he always does… Then, suddenly, he withdrew from you completely. Your eyes flew open, wild, and searched his smug face while he lazily kissed your inner thighs.
“What are you –”
“You broke the rules.” He stated simply, pulling your skirt back down over your thighs and smoothing it over with his calloused fingertips.
“What?” You exhaled incredulously, blinking at him, chest heaving. He rose to his feet and kissed your collarbones as he readjusted your shirt over your breasts before wiping his chin.
“You broke the rules,” Jake repeated. His eyes were dark with want yet held an incredibly amused glint. “No touching yourself.” Your jaw fell slack as you searched his features for the hint of a joke – there was none.
“Jake –” You began to protest – to plead.
“Come on, baby,” He grinned, pulling you down from the counter and spinning your hips to stand in front of him to face the mirror. You could still do nothing but blink dumbly at his reflection. He brought his hot lips down to where neck meets shoulder as he ground his hard cock against your ass. You whimpered, reaching for him behind you. He stepped out of reach and grabbed your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. He adjusted himself by tucking his solid length into the waistband of his jeans. “We have a game to get back to.”
You couldn’t believe this was happening.
“You’re finished when we get back to your place.” You hissed at Jake lowly through gritted teeth as he unlocked the door and pulled you back into the bowling alley with him. He ignored the glances you two were getting from a few lingering patrons as he strode back toward Bob and Natasha. The music was loud, but maybe not loud enough to conceal what was happening behind the locked door from anyone within ten feet of it.
“Not if I finish you first,” He challenged with a grin. He fished the remote from his pocket and dangled it in front of your face. “If you can even make it that long.”
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keep you close.
simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader
summary: he's pretty sure he's in love with you. not that he'll admit it, acknowledge it.
an: angst with fluff, mentions of injury, war-stuff, cheeky stabbings, just cod things. no smut. just feelings. cause I wanted flangst.
word count: 3.6k
masterlist for ghost.
Ghost doesn’t think when his eyes land on you.
He should.
He knows he should.
But he fires his gun all the same, not content with the sound each body makes when they fall to the floor. He wants them to fall harder, almost land and shatter.
He wants them to hurt.
It’s all he thinks as he slides the metal edge along the throat of the last one. The one who is hissing at him in a language he doesn’t even care to translate.
Ghost cares about one thing, and one thing only: getting that radio message out of his head.
It’s an ambush. Do not proceed. Get out—
It has been on a loop since he heard it.
Your radio message.
The one which made Soap shout, calling for you as the static and crackle came back. The sound which made his blood run cold. The one which made him charge across the base grab the person who confirmed the intel by the shoulder, and made them piss themselves. Accidentally, of course.
It had been Soap who suggested sweeping the place, but it hadn’t been far from his mind.
They found your radio stood on, crushed—likely by your own boot. You’d always been thorough—you also usually wiggled your way out of these situations,
It’s how you’d earned the moniker Mouse to begin with.
His eyes caught the dried blood, hoping it didn’t belong to you as his flashlight followed its path until his jaw locked, his muscles tensing.
Your scrunchie.
That ridiculous one you bought months ago. The one which you’d found hilarious, and he had found anything but. Black, with tiny ghosts on it, for Halloween. No other reason, you’d said with a smirk. Unless you want to borrow it, sir?
It’s in his pocket now.
Has been since he found it.
As he lets the last man fall, he brushes the pocket with his hand before wiping the blood on his thigh, sheathing his knife.
Turning, nodding in the direction of the other men as they checked them as he moved across the room to you, sliding his gun behind his back, and dropping to his knees.
We bring Mouse back. By any means necessary.
He’s thankful you’re alive and breathing. Watching as your head tilts —trying to work out who it is. Cautiously, both for the fact he’s considering it and for the knowledge he could hurt you, his gloved hand slides up your cheek, watching you tense before he pulls down the blindfold with his fingers.
One eye is swollen, horrid, and puffy. Something which makes him want to put extra holes in each of the men for it. But, he can’t take his eyes from the one of yours, which blinks, and stares at him, taking him in.
“I’m undoin’ this cuff.”
You swallow, nodding, trying to keep the eye fixed on him. The handcuff releases from your wrists as your arms drop weakly.
It’s then he can see the bruises.
The ones which have formed and the ones about too.
How the colours vary in spots along your exposed arms, neck and cheeks. Dreading to think of how deep they go, how far they spread under your clothes.
“Sir…” you whisper, his head moving closer. “You’re a piss poor listener.”
“Almost as bad as you, soldier.”
Cautiously, he moves closer, his knees hitting against your legs as his hand slowly brushes over your arm.
He’s aware the others have their eyes trained on him, Soap giving orders, busying them. It doesn’t stop him from moving his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close until his chest is close to your side.
“Do you want me to close my eye, make it easier for you?” you cough—sounding like a deflated lung. “You seem the type to hate touching people.”
“Enough.”
It comes out gruff, but he knows that you don’t take it that way. The side of your busted lip twitching as he pulls you over his lap.
He’s pretty sure it’s the gentlest he’s ever been, even more so with someone. He doesn’t mean to press his forehead against the side of yours. But, he thought he’d lost you.
The annoying girl who talked too much, who smiled and had no issues with personal space. Unless you were on the battlefield. Then, you were different—quiet, tactile, mouselike. You scurry, you don’t miss, with a gun, a knife or a computer.
Ghost knew he was fucked before today.
But, this confirms it.
The sharp pang in his chest is a horrid, bitter reminder of how fucked he is—especially with how his heart skips a beat when your hand shakes as it brushes against his mask.
He should look away as he lifts you, breaking the stare he has with you, but you move closer, whispering for him—and him alone. “I knew-w you’d find me.”
He tightens his jaw, feeling a lump in his throat as he gives a curt nod. “Always.”
“Always,” you repeat softly, eyelashes fluttering, desperate to close.
“Hey, eyes on me,” he says, and you do your best. You hope he knows that. “Good girl.”
You hear someone shout for a medic, but it’s not him.
He’s saying very little, just letting his breath dance across your neck and cheek as he holds you to him.
The next time he sees you, he's visiting you when you’re in recovery.
He’s heard from others you’re improving. Soap nudging him, ensuring he’s heard him—thinking he knows more than he does.
He does go, though.
You’re smaller than him, but you look so much smaller in the bed. Your face finally regaining some colour, an expression not twisted up in pain. The bruises faded, eyes unswollen.
It’s a welcomed sight after the last time he saw you.
He crosses the recovery room floor, the room slowly emptying around him. He was glad that the rest of the med bay was without patients.
His chair squeaks with protest when he sits beside you, eyes glancing over your face, over your arms, checking and checking that everything is where it was supposed to be.
You say nothing.
He says nothing.
He just sits, staring at you, letting his eyes roll over your face. You seem to let him, likely basking in the fact that you’re currently not being boiled alive by him.
It’s nice. Quiet.
It’s helping to drown out the whimpers and groans you’d been making all the way back here from your injury.
Until the tension reaches such a height even if you can’t stomach it.
“What you doing here, Lt?”
“Ensuring you don’t act recklessly.”
“I think I can behave for one night.”
“Doubtful.”
You play with the sheets on the bed, rolling them between your fingers as he watches you, knowing what’s coming before you’ve even opened your pretty little mouth.
“I’d behave for you, if you asked.”
Sometimes, your brashness even surprises him.
“I have asked,” he says, stretching his leg out as he watches you smile. “You still disobey me.”
You nuzzle down into your pillow, not taking your eyes off him.
“Sleep, Mouse.”
“With you watching me?”
He clicks his tongue. “Sleep.”
You smile softer, eyelashes looking heavy. “Okay.”
Nodding, he interlocks his gloved fingers over his lap.
You’d been silent.
Too silent.
He knew how you got your Codename. He’d read your file, after all. You sneaked through impossible holes figuratively and literally. Price had informed him how good you were with computers, he hadn’t known how good until he read it himself.
You were good, capable, and able.
He knew you could handle yourself, which is why it wasn’t that which concerned him. It’s the silence.
You’ve been quieter overall since you came back—since he brought you back. Since he helped carry you back to the truck till he watched you get patched up.
Something inside of you, that annoyingly cheerful part of you, had withered. He knew it, Soap knew it.
“You following me?”
“Could say the same to you.”
“Can someone even stalk a ghost?”
You’d tried to hide it, more so from him than the others. Your body trying to twist from him, but his arm had stopped you.
“Something you need, Lt?”
“No.”
You’d given him a curt smile. “Goodnight then, sir.”
He didn’t miss the way you added the sir.
Not that he expects he’s supposed to. Shifting his jaw from side to side, having watched you walk down the corridor, not even bothering to turn to look back at him.
That had been two days ago.
Today, you had dark circles around your eyes. A tenseness in your shoulders as you were all briefed.
He waited, seeing if you approached him, and asked him to stay behind—not entirely sure what his answer would be if you requested it.
But you didn’t.
It should have been a warning, your demeanour shifting, darkness descending down over you the closer they got to the location.
“Mouse, you copy?”
Silence.
Even to Soap.
Often, Ghost knew he warranted your anger.
He was colder with you, more stern. Especially since he’d allowed himself a moment—when he’d been able to hold you, carry you. When he’d felt your heartbeat and watched your eyes fix on him—warming him.
He had wanted distance and walls. Many of them, more so.
Now, he wishes he hadn’t.
Because with Soap, you were light, never ignorant. And maybe he’d have recognised how your anger and hurt had consumed you. That what happened between you being taken and being found had festered and eaten everything good inside of you.
He could relate.
More than most.
“Mouse,” Ghost radios, gruff voice and all. “Fuck.”
He taps Soap, heading in your direction, almost charging. He knew it before he saw it before his foot kicked open the door and witnessed it with his own eyes.
He even freezes for the briefest second.
Half impressed with the number of bodies on the floor.
But then he reacts, hooking an arm under your hips as he both lifts and moves you against the wall. The knife falling from your fingers, clattering against the stone, the only other sound is your panicked breaths and Soap exclaiming, “Steaming bloody Jesus…” as he enters the room.
His forearm presses into the wall beside your head, caging you in as his other palm presses into the wall next to your hip.
Because it was the mission to kill him—once they’d got the information.
The information he couldn’t currently prove you had—but he’d hoped you did. Because otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to contain his anger, his fury. Right now, it simmered, being kept back by that vacant look in your eyes he doesn’t recognise. Not in you, at least.
You’re not looking at him. Not meeting his eyes.
Too busy staring at the body on the floor, the one which has scarlet seeping from each hole you’d inflicted with a knife. His knife.
“Mouse.”
You don’t move, staring as if transfixed in the knowledge he’s dead.
So he whispers your name.
Your real name.
Your eyelashes flutter into a blink, head-turning, finally pulling from the man who kidnapped you on the floor.
“Got the drive,” you say in a tone void of emotion.
Ghost didn’t want to shout, he didn’t want to scream at you, but he did all the same.
Both in anger that you disobeyed an order and in a panic because he couldn’t stop the way his mind unravelled when you didn’t respond.
That it took him back to that moment all over again. Where you were taken from him. Where he lost you. Where he should have protected you.
“You wanna explain what the fuck happened back there?”
You don’t look at him, folding your arms over your chest, suddenly finding the floor interesting. Pressing the sole of your foot against the wall as you leant, seemingly unbothered.
“That’s an order, Soldier—“
“I collected the information, and I stabbed him. Mission complete. Sir.”
Sir.
Fucking sir.
He hated how it made him hard. Little bitch.
“You disobeyed a direct order—“
“—The mission—“
“—You were supposed to wait for backup.”
“I couldn’t risk it.”
He rounds on you, forehead pressing against yours. “You couldn’t risk it?”
Your eyes don’t soften. They hold his gaze, full of fire, ash and destruction. “Well. We’ve both seen the evidence of bad intel, haven’t we?”
He stills.
Blinking, staring into your eyes, seeing the darkness still swirling. The anger has lessened but still remains.
“You need to let it go.”
“I need to… what?” You look hurt, more than he thought you could, and then it vanishes, swept away by anger. “…fuck you, Ghost.”
Moving from him, turning your back on him
“Fuck me? If you continue down this path—“
Then you turn, your eyes burying into him. “It’ll what? Keep me up at night? Consume me? Well, guess what, Simon, it already has.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, a tremor to your outstretched arm before you snap it back to your side. “For days, they asked me who we were. They had ideas. They did… inklings. But, they… they knew my fucking name, Simon. They…told me what they’d do, and I had nothing, not a single thing to drown it out as they described all the ways they’d kill Johnny, how they’d break Gaz, how they’d hurt…”
You.
The unspoken word hanging in the room.
“I got it before, I did,” you say, words shaky at your almost declaration, “but I understand why you wear that mask—why you keep people out…”
Your eyes fill with tears, one’s he wishes he could wipe away before they even meet your cheeks.
“People you know can hurt you the most… right? That's what you said.”
His head reeling back an inch, but it feels like he’s been hit. And then you leave, storming out of the room, and he doesn’t stop you.
Because he knows he shouldn’t.
Because you’d called him Simon.
Not Ghost.
He hates that you’re not here.
You’ve been avoiding him. Outside of briefings and necessity, you’re nowhere else to be found.
The rest of them are around a table, beers in their hands. His mask lifted just enough to enjoy his—if it didn’t taste like nothingness.
Because there were no kind eyes on him. No jesting coming from a soft, sweet voice.
Especially right now, when it’s needed as they discuss who they’re currently fucking their fist over. He hears someone ask him, something he ignores.
And then Soap speaks for him. “I think Ghost here has his eyes on—“
“That’ll do.”
The others snigger, mumbling about getting some air as he cracks his neck. Hoping if he ignores Soap enough, he’ll vanish too.
“Talk to her.”
Ghost rolls his head on his shoulders, meeting his sergeant's expecting face.
Soap slaps his hand on his back. “Trust me, Lt, talk to her.” He tries to think of something, anything, to respond with. He hasn’t got anything until he continues, “Didn’t think you had a heart.”
“A cold one. I have a cold one.”
Soap smirks. “I doubt it’ll remain that way.”
It doesn’t take him long to find you, seeing you huddled over papers and a computer.
He considers watching you, but he steps in before he’s caught, offering you a mug, one you stare at suspiciously before taking it.
You prefer a milky tea, one sugar.
A person after his own heart.
Right now, he imagines you need something different, so he chose coffee.
“What’s this?”
“A boost. You need it.”
“Thanks?”
He doesn’t know what to say.
Letting himself see how dark the bags under your eyes have gotten.
“You’re not sleepin’.”
“Can’t.”
He taps the desk with two fingers, your eyes lifting up to face him. Slowly, he retracts his hand, holding your stare as he takes his glove from his hand. He knows his sleeve has risen, the ends of his tattoo showing as he offers you his hand.
“You made me a drink, and now you want me to what, leave it?”
Slowly, he nods.
Your huff sounds before you stand, slapping your hand into his. It isn’t until your fingers are in his does he watch your eyes flicker, realising that you're touching him—really touching him.
“Ghost…”
“C’mon. Now.”
He doesn’t let go or lessen his hold, not even when you slide your fingers between his. Not when everything inside of him tells him to run, to tell you to run.
His mouth doesn’t open, it remains shut as he brings you to his room, opening the door, letting it swing open before he lets his eyes meet yours.
Letting your eyes take it in before he nudged you forward.
“Ghost…”
“Simon,” he says gruffly. “My name is Simon.”
He shuts the door slowly behind the two of you, releasing your hand, moving it to his neck.
Your eyes follow him, the air thickening—he can feel it. The hairs on the back of his neck standing, the ones on his arms standing. He’s even sure time is ticking slowly.
Especially when he begins to slide his mask up, slowly showing you his chin, his cheeks, and his nose.
Your lips parting, mouth falling open as he pulls it off that last bit. Nothing hidden, not from you.
Swallowing, you make a noise, a squeak as if you’re about to say something, before clamping your mouth shut.
“Hi.”
Your lips twitch. “Hi.”
His fingers brush yours ever so slightly, forcing your eyes to dip before landing back on his with so much adoration—he’s not sure how he deserves it. Any of it.
“What does this mean?”
“It means you go to sleep. Here.”
You raise a brow, and he almost smirks. Almost.
“Not like that.”
Shrugging, you smile. “Coulda fooled me.”
Sighing, he lets go of your fingers. “You can’t sleep because you’re alone. But, if I’m here—“
“You’ll keep the ghosts away?”
He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth.
“Anything else this… declaration means?
“Means you can trust me.”
He watches your head tilt, a scrunch to your brows and your forehead as you look at him. “I trusted you anyway.”
“Then get in bed.”
He wonders if your cheeks are warm if they’re full or blush. More so when your eyes land on the floor, and he turns his back, moving to his things, finding you a t-shirt.
On you, it’ll bury you.
Which makes it perfect, just as perfect as the sound of you undoing your belt is to him and the faint sound of your trousers hitting the floor.
“Here,” he says, holding the T-shirt behind his back, not wanting to look.
Not even when he feels your fingers slide down his forearm, over his ink. When he feels your index and middle slide along his pulse, over his wrist and palm before taking it.
It’s not until he feels your hands on his sides does he turn, your eyes looking up at him—somewhat close to the eyes he knew, the ones which first had his heart pulsing furiously as it is now.
“Do you snore?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Sleep naked?”
“Not all the time.”
“Good,” you comment, loosening your grip as he turns to face you. “Hate for you to have gone to all this effort to not let me get a wink of sleep.”
The double meaning of your words isn’t lost on him.
Especially when he sees the twinkle in your eye, the grin desperate to blossom over your lips.
“Unless…”
“Another time,” he says, even if he hates himself for it just a bit. “Now, get in bed.”
You nod, smiling, “Yes, Sir.”
Fucking hell. “Less of that.”
“Any reason?”
He snorts, turning to watch you climb into his bed, slowly pulling his T-shirt over his head, hearing you inhale as if your mouth was next to his ear.
“I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman.”
He flicks the light off, wondering if your heart is hammering as much as his. Each step towards you feels like a mile, but he’d do it again and again. Feeling for your hand and the sheets you’re offering him, sliding in beside you.
For a moment, he’s tense.
Just as you are.
Especially as his bare legs find yours, your back to his chest, hair tickling his nose. He waits, letting you make the first move for comfort, feeling you breathe heavily before shuffling against him. Fingers trying to keep your hair out of his way, pulling it, twisting it.
And he remembers sliding his hand under his pillow, pulling it out slowly, the fabric rolling between his thumb and finger before he finds your hand over the sheets. He feels you tense, likely recognising it instantly, slowly taking it from him as you move, turning to face him.
Even in the darkness, he makes out your features.
His hand reaches up, touching his chin before fingers spread up your cheeks. His thumb rolls over your bottom lip, wanting to kiss you desperately.
“You found it?”
He says nothing.
“You kept it?”
He breathes out. “I did.”
You must feel his heart hammering. You have to.
Your body slowly comes down, arms sliding around his chest before hands find themselves on the back of his neck.
His head turns as you let hug him, as your body says everything without so much as speaking. And all he can think is he’s an inch away from your lips.
He’s within reach.
He could. He should.
“Simon…” you whisper.
His throat goes dry, and then you kiss him.
Silencing his mind, silencing everything that doesn’t matter—doubt, worry and the sound of that radio message—as he runs his hands over his T-shirt that covers your body.
Pulling you close.
Keeping you close.
I’m with you : read part two
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you/your anons have got me hooked on cyberstalker!König so here are some rando headcanons:
-will go through your likes on twitter and grit his teeth if he saw you liked a man/celebrities selfie, god forbid their a male friend because he will spiral into convincing himself that this is like cheating (you two have spoken once) and he has to do something about it
-if he saw you simping for someone casually he would have to step away and let his anger out in the gym because otherwise he would start weighing the pros and cons of murdering Henry Cavill or something
-has a dragons horde of items you liked/expressed interest in because he has a whole plan when he kidnaps you he would offer it as a way to calm you down. this plan is flawless obviously
-you liked a picture of cat ears and a maid outfit ONCE and he has jerked off to that mental image at least 5 times a week
-will try to get into the things you tweet about just to start a conversation but gives up halfway since he doesn't have the best attention span, tells himself that you'll just tell him about it when your together because he could listen to you for hours <3
-that is not hyperbole btw you once posted a video giggling at something your cat was doing and he has put in on in the background as he gets through his day
-has printed your selfies to cum on stare at because he can get headaches if he stares at a phone screen for so long (hes OLD your honor)
-everytime he likes a song/movie you enjoy it fully fuels his delusions that you two are soulmates
-has found your pinterest boards and already has a downpayment on a house that matches your preferred aesthetic perfectly
-kisses the screen when he sees your selfies. nothing to add to that its just something he does
-LOVED when the 'big boy' song went viral and saw you posting about loving it, again, you two are clearly soulmates
i didn't realize how long this is I am so sorry
Omg!! It's literally so perfect, you crawled in my head like a little bug and now you are munching on my brain and I would let you because you are just chill like that. Konig is an old-fashioned stalker who doesn't have time to literally stalk you, he is a busy man with a busy life, so he catches up with your socials instead!! More under the cut
He googles every term he doesn't understand, and reads recaps of whatever show you were watching, just so he could save time on actually watching it. He writes everything in a diary, every little detail because he knows a bit about internet safety from Hutch and he just knows that this precious data is far more protected in the front pocket of his vest, in a tiny and scrawny notebook.
He saves every picture and prints it, just to see every tiny detail. Your favorite color, your favorite decorations. You like pink sanrio fluffy style of decor? He doesn't understand it, and don't see a point in just adding to the clutter, but he will buy you as much Hello Kitty and My Melody stuff as possible. Something minimalistic, but expensive? He understands it a bit more, and he is happy to finally use his money for something nice and not just beer.
He would be grinning like a cat with the cream if you like video games -- especially the ones he likes, the violent action ones. He can't let go of the war even at home, and having a perfect game when he doesn't actually have to worry about being in danger but putting as many enemies down as possible is nice, really. You would have to explain the point of Minecraft to him though.
The celebrity crush one omg!! Konig is insecure because if you like more normal, traditionally attractive male celebrities, he just knows he can't compete. However, there has to be something wrong with you if you really like Konig, so he doesn't mind - after you stop liking those celebs of course. God save you if you have some porn in your twitter likes - he would try to implement it in your sex life. Bondage? He already knows how to make really good knots. Cnc? It's basically your whole sex story already. He would never let you forget about every embarrassing little picture you liked, and he enjoys thinking of you as a perverted thing that needs some good punishment.
If you do cosplay...oh boy. Even the most normal costumes are a good jerk-off material for him. Even if you cosplay male characters, he'd find a way to sexualize you -- it's not really nice of him, but this old man finally got what cosplay means and he is not letting go of this knowledge.
His soldiers think you're his wife already because he keeps your photo, a fucking collage of your photos, on his desk and a polaroid of you in his vest pocket. Poor ol' you, having stalking problems and not even knowing about it because he is too busy to actually court you.
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I SEE YOU (FIRST TIME IS A CHARM)
a/n: a simple first date of frat!miguel and cheerleader!reader after the party
warnings; tiny angst but then turned to comfort<3
—
miguel sometimes think it would be good if he occasionally pinches himself in the arm. or glen could do it if he wanted to since he’s got quite a grip. enough to make sure he’s not living the dream.
for example, finally scoring a chance to take you out after months of pining on you? not getting rejected by his long time crush?! scratch pinching, somebody slap the dog shit out of him and tell him that this is real,
he had texted beck prior the date that he needed his right hand man to keep tabs on everything at the party. and being the good best friend that he is, beck congratulated him for finally having the balls to actually do it,
beck: so i guess that means we don’t have to hear about you moaning her name again during sleep?
miguel: shut the fuck up, kingsley. do as what you’re told.
beck: aye aye buddy
“so uh.. are you hungry? we could grab something to eat if you want to” he asked you while looking over to the passengers seat
“starving, actually” you replied with a giggle, and he felt his heart skip a beat at the sound. “got any recommendations, o’hara?”
but for a guy who knows his ways around women, he sure is nervous when it comes to you. and fuck, he cursed himself for being like this. he wanted to look cool in front of you, not stupid. what is wrong with him?!
“well we can have something off the diner on 13th street. that’s twenty minutes from campus, though. sushi stop, i know one where they serve the best sashimi. and kebab food truck but i don’t think you-“
“a kebab?!” a gasp fell from your mouth, eyes widening at the sound of middle eastern delicacy. “yes. no doubt. i want it. let’s punch it!”
he swore he’s not the type who falls in love quickly. but the way your eyes twinkle in excitement when he mentioned about kebabs,
he might just have,
he smiled at you before putting his focus back on the road. “kebab food truck it is”
one thing that miguel had forgotten to mention, is that food trucks don’t have tables and chairs. so people either eat them while standing up or inside their cars,
he didn’t want to trouble you at all, because looking at you right now, in a very pretty dress and heels, he doubt. that you actually wanted to eat while standing up,
“i’m so sorry, muñeca. i forgot to say something about this” he scratched the back of his head. eyes looking through the window where the kebab truck is at,
with a shrug you shot him a reassuring smile. “i don’t mind standing up while eating if that’s what you worried about”
he shook his head. “i mind actually. can’t let you eat and get tired while standing. how about we’ll eat in my car and i’ll go order something for you, si? what do you prefer? i swear if it you say vegan, i will leave you”
you laughed at that comment, “no of course not. i’ll get the chicken one, medium sized. and a cold water”
he pulled out his cash from the back pocket, smiling at you. “be right back”
there was definitely something different about him. a good different. one of them was how miguel is not how the people at campus had painted him to be. could be too soon for that conclusion but throughout the car ride, you were extremely sure that miguel is not a jackass.
instead, he had asked about which songs you wanted him to play in his car. whether or not if you’re comfortable and constantly saying sorry if he overstepped. it all seemed so sweet to you,
your friends would probably give you a weird look praising such simple things. the bare minimum. but these days, those ‘bare minimums’ are hard to pluck from a decent person, correct? nothing’s wrong with praising them anyway.
he knocked on the window, pulling you out of the train thoughts, in which you then rolled it down. “here you go, muñeca. the man assumed that it was for me so he put a lot of chicken there, so-“
“it’s fine. i said i was starving anyway” you took it from his hand, the smell of the delicious meal was making your mouth water.
miguel had himself crouched down to your eye level, thumb pointing over his shoulder. “so. standing up? or my car?”
you thought for a while, then an idea came into your mind with a pretty smile. “got a better one”
miguel frowned in confusion at that, watching you opening the door before walking out of the vehicle. and that’s when you and him standing almost chest to chest, unintentionally.
the moment he looked at you, his mind immediately went blank. in that exact moment, he thought that if it was possible to put charges on someone for how they stare with their eyes, yours would be number one.
because it felt like he was getting hypnotized by your beautiful irises and that there’s no turning back for him. he would volunteer to drown himself in them if it means he gets to see those eyes forever,
“—way nicer”
he blinked. mentally slapping himself in the forehead because he had just realized he wasn’t listening to you at all, too busy day dreaming about your gaze.
“i’m sorry, w-what were you saying?”
an amused smile made it towards your lips, “i said, we could sit by the pavement here. it’s way nicer. we could act like one of those drunk people after night out.”
“but we’re not drunk, muñeca”
“i said act, miguel” you reply in a duh tone, closing the door behind before guiding him to one of the empty ones where it’s not taken, “see? this one’s good spot”
one thing he noticed, you were wearing a pretty dress. “wait!” miguel then rushed towards the back of his car to grab a jacket before going back to you and laying it down on the asphalt. “there. now you can sit”
that one made your heart flutter, eyes moved up to him. “miguel you can’t just do that. your jacket will get dirty”
“I don’t mind. they made washing machine for a reason. i wasn’t going to let your dress get dirty anyway. the color is too pretty” he smiled, finally taking a seat on the rough surface with you following his actions after,
it was quite a cold night, and you regret not bringing a jacket along with you. what even was this weather? sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it’s rainy and sometimes you couldn’t even fucking predict it,
you tried not to let the chills get to you, because it seemed like miguel wasn’t really bothered by it. this man had his whole arms out in a muscle tank and he sat still like it was nothing,
“this is the best kebab i have ever tasted” you moaned with your eyes close on you had the first bite, chewing on the sweet delish,
miguel tried not to let his mind wander when he saw you doing that. “you like it?”
“like?! i love it! miguel this is amazing!” eyes turning into hearts when you gaze the food upon your hands, “how did you find this perfect place?”
“me and the guys often tried to find new places to eat other than burgers and hot dogs after parties and football practice” he settled his legs down, crossing them. “saw this truck while passing by and decided to give it a go”
you hummed. “do you do that a lot?”
“do what a lot?”
“partying” you took another bite, looking over at him as he raised his brows at the question,
“w-well” he chuckled nervously, thinking of a better way to answer. “if i’m being honest, i don’t enjoy it… as much as i did before”
“really?”
“yeah. it was fun at first. partying, getting shit faced… feels lame now. also, probably because now i think of alcohol are just empty calories”
“is that why you wanted to take me out? so you didn’t have a reason to stay there?”
his eyes turned wide, shaking his head in panic mode. “what? no! no of course not! i wanted to! i mean—it just felt like it was the perfect timing! and i— I—so—didn’t i tell you i have a crush on you?!”
with that, you laughed. placing a hand over his knee. “just joking, miguel”
oh fuck you’re touching him.
‘keep it cool, miguel’ he thought,
“oh-oh right, right. sorry” he replied, clearing his throat. still feeling nervous. “you know, i rarely see you at our weekly parties. only gloria and some of your friends.” he pointed out. wiping some of the sauce from the corner of his lips,
you answered. “not really my scene”
“you don’t like parties?”
“not really. i prefer when it’s just a few people that i know. not a whole campus. i like it better when it’s intimate”
“why is that?” he couldn’t help but ask,
“so i can hear people better when they talk. i love having a conversation”. it’s simple really. and it’s true.
you haven’t gone out to wild parties or clubs in a while, and it was safe to say that your life is truly at peace now. not saying that you would turn down any offer to go to one, but you just don’t do it as often,
waste of money and energy. simple things like sleeping before eleven, waking up early, getting your work done and having walks or working out regularly have been your main priorities now,
“ah, i see” he nodded at that, a smile appeared on his face. “intimate party yeah? i keep that in mind”
you raised one of your brows. “you don’t have to just because i said so, miguel”
he shrugged, taking another bite of his food “if that’s what i have to do just so i could see you around more often”
his response completely took you by surprise. and you had no clue what to say to that. fluttered? sure, that’s why you tried to suppress the smile on your face by looking away. you were quite thankful that it was dark out. that way, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush prominent on your cheeks.
the two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a while. devouring the perfect late night meal while watching the cars go by, accompanied by mindless chatters from left to right,
it did come to a surprise that you and miguel have a lot more in common than you think. something that you didn’t see coming. hell, you didn’t even think that you would actually converse with the head of a fraternity and captain of a football team.
a person whom you always try to avoid ever since freshmen year.
“another thing—why haven’t i seen you in lots of my games?”
“miguel, i come to your games. i’m the cheerleader for crying out loud”
“what i meant was why have you never stick around? you do your part and then poof! you’re gone”
raising an eyebrow, you eye him. “are you stalking me now?” he laughs at the accusation, but it’s not entirely false. “i have no reason to stay, why would i stick around?”
“not even for me?” he fakes a dramatic gasp, hand over his chest as if he’s actually hurt. “that pains me, muñeca”
“you’re getting way ahead of yourself, o’hara” you reply with an eye roll but smile anyway,
miguel then looks at the road, shaking his head. “unbelievable. and here i thought about handing you my jersey for you to wear next at our championship game”
and man, did your heart somehow stop for a second there.
because miguel o’hara do not give away his jersey numbers. not the real one nor the merch ones.
“you’re joking?”
“why would i be?” miguel turned his head at you, finding it is much better to look at you rather than the busy road ahead of him,
shrugging, you looked down at your open kebab. “people talk about how your jerseys are off limits. you don’t give away those numbers for anyone”
“well” he breathed out, chewing his lower lip while fiddling with his fingers. “you’re not just anyone to me”
a breath hitched on your throat when his ruby eyes met with your pretty ones once more. and he made a mental note on how your smile deflated in seconds after he said that,
and fuck fuck fuck, he didn’t mean to make you feel weird or uncomfortable. it was the last thing he wanted to do. because he did feel like he was confessing too much to you that night.
but what could he have done?! he likes you and you make him nervous. put the two and two together, and miguel would sputter bunch of shit from his mouth without actually thinking,
“shit” he shook his head, looking away from embarrassment. “i didn’t—I didn’t mean to say that— i mean, i did but—sorry if it made you feel weird. that was too straight forward”
you couldn’t lie, it was rather entertaining to see the captain of a football team and the so called ‘player of campus’ stumble upon his words like that. usually, you would simply roll your eyes and brushed every single guy who had said that to you. because you knew all they wanted to do was to get into your pants,
however miguel looked genuine. and by how fast his cheeks were warming to the color of crimson red or how he scratched the tip of his ears was pretty explanatory,
he wasn’t trying to get into your pants,
instead of giving him a dirty look, you just smiled shyly at him who looked down on his lap. probably re-thinking about his life choices.
“that’s cute” you managed to mumble, scooting a bit closer to his body. putting the half of kebab down beside you. “you actually like me, huh?”
he scoffed at the silly thought, as if the answer to that question had already been written well enough. “i really like you” he confessed, craning his head towards you and he almost passed out on how close you were to him. “makes me go crazy every time i see you, muñeca—i counted the times that you looked at me for just one split second and i died on days that you didn’t”
the way he spoke so carefully and lovingly with you was truly something you had longed from someone. took you by surprise just how much it meant to him for something so simple like wanting you to look at him for once,
one that you didn’t expect miguel o’hara would have said,
“yeah?” and this time, your voice wavered a little. almost like he made his mission accomplished by making you nervous too. “have you been gawking at me then?”
“god you made it sound like i’m a creep” he shook his head out of embarrassment making you laugh. “not gawk—just simply admiring you from afar—during class and your cheerleading practice. but it’s not a weird ass admiring or something like that. hope that’s okay”
it was. indeed it was.
because before this happened, you always assumed that miguel was the typical jock that romcoms have always shown. heartless, player, annoying, screw ups, and the list goes on.
but fuck was he different.
“more than okay” you responded rather quietly, letting your shoulder touched with his and it made miguel’s eyebrows quirk upwards,
and the moment miguel let his eyes looked into yours for more than twenty seconds, he knew for the second time that night—he was in. hooked line and sinker.
you pulled him in deeper than anyone had ever did without you even realizing. he hadn’t even shared a three hour conversation with you. this is the longest he had spoken with the girl he had a crush on,
miguel gulped by the sight of your pretty lips and doe eyes looking up at him. the innocence twinkled within your gaze and he had to refrain himself from kissing you out in the street,
it was one of the hardest thing he had to do that night,
“i just wanted you to give me a chance” he admitted, resting his arms on his knees as he stared at you. “to look at me as me—not as someone who people had spread rumors about on campus—because i’m not that— i don’t sleep around, i promise I don’t”
it was a weird feeling on how your heart broke a little by how defeated he sounded at the moment. his eyes were soften, voice turned small. he was begging silently for you to look past the ‘playboy miguel’ talk from the people that barely even knows him,
he didn’t care if others don’t believe him but he cared if you did.
that’s the only approval he needed,
“i want you to see me” he shyly continued when you chose not to say anything, only looking at him with your widening eyes. “that’s all”
trust has always been something you struggle with from time to time. because it’s easier said than done.
relationships are indeed not your strongest virtue. you shared some in the past but not all of it were pretty except for one. and you haven’t even heard about that person in a long time but you did wish he was okay.
it is unbelievably difficult to put your heart upon someone else’s hands and asking them to take care of it knowing how easy it would be for them to break it along the way,
which was the reason why you avoided miguel in the first place,
to say you hate him with all of your guts and soul would probably be too much. you wouldn’t go that far. you hardly know the man.
but you were persuaded by the gossips and girl talk scattered throughout campus. how he used girls for sex, only to dump them the next day. despite gloria telling you the opposite, you refused to believe her. you were solemnly only trying to protect yourself.
yet only now the guilt was eating you alive. why didn’t you even try to find out for yourself instead of listening to a gang of plastics who love to start off disgusting rumors about others?
looking at him now just made your heart clenched and for your head tilt to the side, just so you can look at him a bit better. you wanted to look at his eyes. you wanted him to not avoid your gaze because you understood now,
more clearer than ever.
“i do. i see you, miguel” you placed a hand on top of his, gently rubbing the skin until his ruby eyes turned to you at the sudden affection,
miguel’s heart almost did a somersault at your smile. even more to the words you had chosen to say next,
“i see you, baby”
—
reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! it would make my day:)
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stay the night
in which you babysit megumi some nights and toji is sick of you showing up in those tight little shorts
1.3k words, nsfw
“Good evening, Mr. Fushiguro. I just put Megumi down.” You whispered as you held up the baby monitor. Toji hadn’t had one when you first started working for him and had purchased it at your insistence. You had been babysitting for the Fushiguro’s now for a few months, showing up whenever Toji had called. It wasn’t a regular thing, Toji had told you his job was a freelancer (whatever that meant) and his work wasn’t regular. Still, he paid decently and Megumi was a doll of a child, always so sweet and eager to have someone to babble to.
It also didn’t hurt that Toji was an absolute dilf. He had a perfectly placed scar on the corner of his lips that you wanted to paint pink with your lipstick. He towered over you and always had on shirts seemingly two sizes too small that outlined his hard abs and broad shoulders. You were waiting for him to lift his arm one day and have his shirt split down the middle. Long story short, you wanted him.
“Thanks.” He said digging in his pants pocket for his wallet to pay you for the night. He was never very talkative, especially so after he was done work. You had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t just with you. You turned around to grab your purse on the couch, not realizing how far your yoga shorts had ridden up. They had moved so far that now your peach colored panties were peeking out underneath.
You heard a faint rustling of clothing before feeling a large, calloused hand grip your waist. You stiffened in surprise and quickly turned your head to look at the man behind you. His hand traveled up in between the valley of your breasts and he tugged you so that your back was flush with his chest. His extremely muscular chest. You could already feel your face heating up.
Toji leaned his head next to your ear to whisper. “You didn’t have to wear those tiny shorts for my attention, you already have it. Do you know how hard it’s been to hold back all of this time? My self control has worn out.” It wasn’t as if you wore those shorts on purpose for this exact outcome… or that was what you told yourself to feel better about the fact that you desperately wanted the single father with an ambiguous job who always came home late.
“If you want to stop, say so now because once I get started, it’s too late.” He groaned into your ear. You shook your head vigorously no, unable to muster up the words to speak. He slots his lips against yours, swallowing your mewls of excitement. Toji nipped at your lower lip, inviting you to open for him. When you did, he slipped his tongue past your parted lips dominating your own.
“I’m gonna stuff you full,” he groaned, kissing up the side of your neck before pushing you hard onto the weathered sofa.
“I can barely wait to come home to my pretty little cockslut waiting for me.” His voice was teasing, one of his hands dipping under the waistband of your shorts, slowly working its way down and pulling both your shorts and underwear down with it.
“Taking care of my kid all day, waiting for me to come home and give you your reward.” He dipped two calloused fingers into your heat and groaned. “How are you so wet already?” He started off slow, but with your encouraging mewls, he began to aggressively scissor his digits in and out of your hole.
“Ah, Toji…” you trailed off as he lifted his fingers out of you, a trail of your essence following them. He guided his fingers to his awaiting mouth, scar stretching to open wide. Sucking hard on his two digits, he slid them slowly from his mouth and let go of them with a pop.
“I would play more but…” he trailed off, but you knew what he was thinking. You couldn’t waste time when you had a toddler down the hall that could wake up any moment. You feverishly unbuttoned the jeans clinging tight to his thighs and pulled down, gasping at the outline of his cock in his silky black boxers. You palmed the large bulge with your hand, feeling the pulsating veins even through the thin layer of fabric. It twitched as you began to run your hand up and down the clothed erection. Toji wasted no time in revealing it to you and let his boxers pool at his ankles before kicking them away. He was long and thick with a nest of black hair resting at the base of him. The curtains do match the drapes.
“Oh my god.” You whispered, but not quiet enough for it to escape Toji’s notice. He shot you a devilish grin before pushing you so your back laid on the faux leather couch.
“Next time, I’ll take my time on you. Maybe shove my face between those thighs and lick your pretty pussy. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” All you could do was vigorously nod your head in response, excessively aware of the fact that Toji had moved the head of his cock so that it was poking at your entrance.
“But what about…ah!” You started, trying to warn Toji that you hadn’t used any protection, but he was already plowing through your wet heat. You tried to quiet your mewls, but couldn’t hold them in as he thrust deep within you. Toji shushed you and buried your head in the crook of his neck.
“You’re so whiny. You’re gonna wake the kid.” You can feel his grin against your skin while he says it, not seeming at all worried about the possibility. In fact, he seemed pleased with himself.
He lifted your leg, folding it against your chest and angled his hips up. You choked back a moan as he hit your g-spot. Toji picked up the pace, thrusting fast and hard into your heat. He felt himself lose all control in the wet, gummy paradise between your thighs. Each thrust felt like he went deeper within you, carving out a space for himself within you. He slid a hand down to play with your clit, rubbing tight circles until you started to feel a familiar tension within your stomach.
“Ah, Toji I’m -“ You whimpered.
“You gonna come for me? Good.” You bit down on your lower lip to try to quiet your noises of pleasure, but he still slaps his hand across your mouth to muffle the noises you couldn’t contain. Finally, the tension snapped like a rubber band and your body flooded with release. He pushed his forehead against yours as he fucked you through your orgasm with deep thrusts that had you nearly shaking with overstimulation.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He hissed, leaning so your foreheads were touching. “I’m not pulling out. You’d be such a good mother, wouldn’t you? You take such good care of my son, maybe I’ll give you one of your own.” Your eyes shot wide open in alarm, shocked that you liked the idea so much. You chanted yes, yes, yes, as you felt him groan and shoot his load deep inside of you. He stayed there for a moment, before slowly pulling his cock all of the way out and pushing his cum back in you. Toji rolls to lay his back on the sofa, grabbing your body and placing you on top of him.
“You’ll have to stay the night. I’m not done with you yet.” He grinned. Somehow, you were completely fine with that. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
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what you pay for • mingi
you know what he’s here for (aka is it too late for a bouncy au idk)
warnings: western au, cowboy!mingi, prostitution, reader calls him sir but it’s not a kink, fairly dom!mingi, gentle choking, some slaps, threats of punishment, unprotected sex, me wrapping it up way too early because im tired
—————
He catches your eye almost instantly. He’s a little taller and younger than most of the regulars here, scowl on his face as he surrenders his weapons at the door — “Shop policy,” drawls the old man with an outstretched hand. He curses under his breath, they all do, but doesn’t seem any less confident even without his protection. Though you’re certain he’s never been here before, he oozes the confidence not just of a regular, but something even bigger. Something untouchable.
You watch as he buys a drink, served by one of the other girls, and downs it like he’s been waiting for it for years. He mutters something to the bar maid and she blushes. You roll your eyes, imagining he’s trying to buy her a drink but she doesn’t flash the knowing look you all share as you accept the most expensive liquor he can buy, pour yourself some tea, and pocket the cash. So he must be saying something else. You don’t know why you’re wondering what that is — the nature of your job means strange, intriguing characters by the dozen — but there’s something to him you haven’t seen in a while. Endless mystery ends up cancelling itself out, but even as the unpredictable has become expected, he still has you wondering about him. You need to meet this man. Find out his deal.
You stay perched on your table, chewing on the candies your Madame made, trying to look uninterested and passive as you steal occasional glances at him. You take in his broad back and the dark hair hidden beneath his hat before he turns around and finally sees you. Finally, he gets up, thanking the girl for his drink before he approaches you, coming to a stop next to your table. He puts a large, rough hand down onto the wood, just inches from your leg. He shoots a one-sided smile as his eyes rake over you.
“Barmaid says you’re down to play,” he gruffs and wow, his voice is low, low and rough and electrifying. It has you blushing, and this time when you flutter your eyelashes just as Madame taught you, you really mean it.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you giggle. He cocks an eyebrow, amused, and leans in closer.
“That a yes?” He chuckles. You watch as his hand moves along the wood towards your bare leg, tantalisingly close. “If it's not, you can feel free to move your leg outta my way,” he says lowly. You smile, keeping eye contact as you ever so slightly move towards him. He’s toying with you — but this is your game.
When his hand finally reaches you, curling around your ankle, it’s not as dramatic a moment as you expected, as he probably wanted, but it does feel different. Good. Right. And watching his dirtied hand sullying your skin as he runs it up your leg is strangely thrilling. As a saloon girl you’re by no means pure, but the presence, the demeanour of this man has you wanting him to find the one last tiny piece of you that is yet untainted, and crush it in his hands.
His smirk says he knows what you’re thinking but, still respectful, his hand stills before it can go under your skirts and towards your heat, but his grip on your lower thigh is tight and wanting. “You work upstairs?” He asks and you grin.
“Yes, Sir,” you breathe. He helps you off the table and you nod at another bar maid, letting her know what you’re doing before you lead him upstairs and towards your private rooms.
When the door of your room slams shut his hands are already on you, up your skirt, across your face and every inch of you he can reach. His kiss is hungry and desperate but a hand on your neck puts him firmly in control. “Fuck, little girl,” he groans. “You want it?”
Your head falls back as his lips latch onto your neck. Your grip on his waist tightens. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Fuck.”
He smacks his hand scoldingly against your thigh, brows furrowed. “Don’t dirty that pretty mouth,” he breathes. “Terrible language for a lady.”
You laugh softly at that. “You’re the first— fu—” you catch yourself before the cuss leaves your mouth, instead going for a vague, strangled sort of groan and he snorts, but the pleased look on his face encourages you. “You’re the first in a while to call me a lady,” you finish.
“Well you ain’t a man,” he laughs. “Let’s just—” You gasp when his hand finally reaches your pussy, sliding into your panties and finding your clit instantly. He smiles. “Yeah, definitely a lady. Got the pretty little parts to match.”
A long finger penetrates you slowly, as gentle as if you were a still virgin, tight and unbroken. You push into it desperately, whining when he starts to rub slow circles on your clit. You’re more than experienced with men, but you enjoy this careful treatment. You feel almost… cherished.
The finger inside you finds your spot and you cry out, jolting against him until his other hand wraps easily around your neck, holding you still against the door. “Fuck, Sir—”
“Mingi,” he interrupts. “You can call me Mingi, I— fuck, I wanna hear you say my name.”
If you weren’t so wound up you’d smirk — names are not commonplace here, even regulars preferring to keep theirs private lest the sheriff come knocking, so for him to hand out his purely out of desperation to hear you say it must mean he wants you just as badly.
“Mingi,” you moan and he grunts, curling his finger inside you.
“Yeah, baby,” he whispers. “Sounds so good.”
“Then fuck me,” you say and he chuckles, shaking his head.
“Tellin’ me what to do now, doll?” He asks. “Don’t do that. You’re fuckin’ electric but I’ll spank you if you get cocky.”
You huff but nod your head. You strangely love the way he talks down to you, telling you what to do and scolding you like a little girl. It’s somehow different from the others, the endless men who traipse into your room and speak to you like a common whore. Perhaps the difference is how Mingi strokes your neck so gently as he humiliates you. Or maybe it’s the finger that fucks your cunt like no one has ever even tried to. But it doesn’t matter. This man is addictive and you already know you’ll do anything to get your fix.
His eyes are piercing as they stare you down, lips twitching as he observes your reaction to every movement. “I do think you deserve it, though,” he says. “To get fucked.”
You should be humiliated by the way you nod fervently, like you’ve been starved of this your whole life, but you’re not. Right now you’re capable of any emotion but unbridled desire and desperation. “Please,” you whisper. “Please, Mingi.”
“Get on the bed,” he orders, smiling sweetly as his hands leave you.
You whine pathetically at the loss of contact and he laughs, watching as you stumble towards the bed. You look back at him, waiting for instruction but he just smiles.
“You choose the position, angel,” he says. “Since you’re being so good.”
“From the back,” you say much quicker than you should have. “Want you to use me.”
The way he grins tells you he was thinking the same. “Ass up then, doll.”
You find the position easily, well-practised but your heart faces as though this were your first time. You feel Mingi’s presence behind you, towering over you as rough hands run up the backs of your thighs. He pulls up your skirts without a word, leaving you bare-assed and more vulnerable than ever. A sharp smack lands against one of your cheeks and it’s painfully delicious. You want him to hurt you, you realise. You want him to ruin you.
��Should I go slow?” He asks. “Or d’you reckon you’re wet enough for me to slide right in?”
You both know the answer. “Wet enough, Sir.”
He chuckles, sliding a finger in to check his grunt of approval is both gratifying and humiliating. “You’re right,” he says. “This cunt is fuckin’ dripping for me.”
Seconds later and his cock is penetrating you without warning, entering you easily but still stretching you. He’s big, you think. You knew he would be.
He doesn’t waste time easing you into it, thrusting into you fast and hard. Your chokes and gasps mix with the sound of skin slapping and his groans of pleasure. A drawn out ‘fuuuck’ fills you with pride. You’re tight even after all this time, like you were made for taking dick, a vessel for pleasure — his pleasure.
You cry his name over and over, chanting it like a prayer — apt, you think, because this is certainly the closest to heaven you’ll ever get. On the edge of bliss he pulls out only to slam back in again, pulling your hips against his to push himself deeper. His grip on you is bruising, as are the slaps he lands on your ass just to hear you scream. A single touch to your clit pushes you over the edge and you collapse into him, breathless and dazed but he keeps going, chasing his release. For once you pray he doesn’t pull out — you want him to come in you, pump you full of his seed, maybe even get you pregnant. You crave it like you’ve never craved anything and he delivers, unloading into you with a yell.
When you come to your bundled in his arms, held tight against his warm chest.
“How much do I owe you?” He asks and you sigh. You’d almost forgotten what this was, a simple exchange of services between two people. But it doesn’t have to be. Business may be business, but you know what you want, and you want it again.
“First time’s free, baby,” you lie.
He hums, not really believing you, but you know he’s just as addicted to you as you are. “Guess I’ll need to come back, huh?”
Yeah, you think with a smile. You guess he will.
—————
Heyy just dropping something small cus I haven’t posted in a while. Not proofread but please reblog and comment if u like this! Requests are still OPEN! Love🖤🖤
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