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#he can’t sit in a chair properly
thesunhatesme · 4 months
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Phantom only eats from a bowl with a spoon because if you use a knife and a fork you need to use both hands and he needs one hand to hold his knee so it doesn’t slide off the chair
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tinyluvs · 10 months
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imagine dating spencer and you come to visit or something and make him so distracted that he literally can’t info dump on something and the rest of the team is just shocked
yes yes, a hundred times yes 🤭 thank you so much!
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catching a glimpse of yourself in the elevator mirror was the last thing you needed right now. you were covered in paint, your dungarees showing up every coloured streak and hand print against the light denim. you're sure there's paint in your hair but you don't have time to dwell on it, you're late
you'd got stressed, painting your boyfriends apartment on your own, lost track of time and then didn't have the time to change before running out of the apartment, just about managing to remember to grab yours and spencer's lunch on the way
"i'm so sorry i'm late," you sigh and frown as you rush through the bullpen to the collection of desks you're oh so familiar with, "please excuse the state of me,"
spencer turns at the sound of your voice, "hi sweetheart," he hums, looking up at you just as you dip to kiss him quickly before pushing the bag of food onto his lap
"hey," you smile softly at your boyfriend before turning to his colleagues, "hey guys, how are we all?" you ask, getting a mixed bunch of replies back
"how's painting?" derek laughs, looking at your appearance and the state of your clothes
you slide onto spencer's desk, pulling your legs up to sit cross legged, "standing six feet up a ladder trying to hold a tray of paint and a brush is hard, i've nearly fallen off twice," you huff,
spencer hands you the sandwich he knows is yours and then seemingly looks at you properly for the first time since you've been there, "hey," he says, almost breathlessly
"hello?" you question, head tilting slightly, "you've already said hi," you say, looking at emily and jj who just snicker and shrug their shoulders but spencer doesn't reply, "oh before i forget!"
your boyfriend watches you carefully as you produce a piece of paper from the tiny pocket on the front of your dungarees, flapping it around to unfold it, your other hand busy clutching your food
"the living room is next, i need to know how much paint to buy," you explain, handing the paper to him, "the cans are one litre or five litres, i can't figure it out"
truth be told you hadn't bothered to try and work it out, knowing spencer would be able to reel off the answer like it's nothing, naturally, he knew the exact measurements of every wall in his house
the boy stares up at you blankly, big brown eyes soft and sparkly. your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your eyebrows raising slightly, "spence?" you nudge him with your knee
he jumps ever so slightly, his head shaking a bit, "hmm?" he asks before only just registering you've handed him something, his eyes scan over it, "oh!" he blushes, turning his chair to face his desk
"what colour are you doing the living room?" jj asks while she stabs at her salad like it's offending her. you'd consulted the girls with all of the decorating developments.
"a light brown i think, we have so much to hang on the walls," you pause to swallow, "so something neutral," you finish with a slight nod
a door opening to your side grabs your attention, aaron coming out of his office with his lunch. he comes down into the bullpen, sitting on the edge of emily's desk, "the paint fighting back?" he asks you, slight smile creeping over his face
you roll your eyes at him, playfully, while the other laugh at your expense, "very funny but i don't see any of you offering to help"
penelope scoffs, "actually, i did" and she was right, however her idea of getting wine drunk and decorating had been quickly shut down by spencer, the only input he's actually offered up in the whole process
giggling, you turn back to your boyfriend who's been far too quiet, "boy wonder?" you say gently, pushing your fingers through his hair, "got an answer for me?"
usually he would have an answer within seconds, his minutes of silence making you frown, he turns to you with the same frown painted across his face, "i don't know," he says
people around you gasp, loudly too, "what do you mean, you don't know?" emily almost chokes on her lunch, sitting forward to gawp at the boy
"i do not know how much paint we need" he confirms
derek scrambles, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "say it again, i need record of this moment" he pleads while garcia smacks him
"well there's a first," david says, wandering over after hearing spencer say i don't know for possibly the first time, ever
your boy stares at the paper in his hand and then up at you, confused, "i have to go and work it out, excuse me" he says, rushed, as he stands and takes off towards circle table room
after a moment of shocked silence you turn to the team who are all staring directly at you, "i'll go check on him, i wonder what's wrong?" you say to no one in particular as you hop off of the desk
"i think i know," jj sing songs and the others hum in agreement as you hop up the stairs and along the walkway into the room.
when you get into the room spencer is stood in front of the biggest whiteboard you've possibly ever seen, marker in hand though the board is still empty of his handwriting
"spence? angel?" you say quietly, staring at his back as he starts to write the measurements of the walls in his living room, "everything alright?"
he hums, not turning to look at you as he continues to work through the problem, "yeah, fine, just can't think properly when you're around," he admits, "not when you look like that," he turns slightly to look at you
"oh, do you want me to leave?" you're sad, its obvious in your voice. nervously you start fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt
your boyfriend gasps, "no, no, honey that's not what i meant!" he says, holding his arm out. you slide into the space, head resting on his shoulder, "you're so beautiful and i love you so much, so so much, my brain just switches off when you’re around"
"really?" you giggle, looking up at him. he hums and nods his head, a light blush rushes up his neck before taking over his cheeks, "i love you too,"
he's taller than you, forcing you onto your tip toes to kiss him, not caring when someone, emily, whoops from the bullpen. gentle hands squeeze at your waist, while you hold his face with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder
"three litres," spencer mumbles against your mouth, you pull away with a sight hum, forgetting what you'd asked of him, "you need three but it's cheaper to just buy five and have left over, now come back" he huffs, his arm wrapping tighter around you to pull you back in for another kiss
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thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!
❥ spencer reid masterlist !!
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melonn-soda · 4 months
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❝ PERSONAL STREAM (A Little Too Personal..) ❞
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word count: 1.9k
warnings: subbot! cis male reader, domtop! cis male kamo choso, camboy! choso, slight dumbification?, praise kink, reader referred to as a size queen (term is used for a man), mention of edging (choso), mentions/descriptions of manhandling
prompt: congratulations! you just won a solo fan call with your favorite camboy! hope you have fun watching him getting off to you being just the goodest boy ever :)
notes: a gift for and and idea from @sooniebby I jus made it into a choso fic. I've been holding it off for a while now, I think. this isn't as good as had wanted it to be but it's fine regardless. not beta read, sorry not sorry
fem aligned dni
you can’t believe it.
you actually can’t believe what you’re reading right now.
in your email inbox, something you barely ever check unless needed to, had a message from the user of a porn website (not your proudest moment) that you signed up on just to watch his videos, telling you that you won this month’s drawing. you had to stand up, walk around, eat breakfast, and come back to your computer to see if it was still there. if it was still real. you swore you’ve never felt so excited yet so scared in your life.
to know that, somehow, you won that solo fan call, to know that he’ll be jerking off for you, to know that no one else can see him but you, talking to you, and- shit. you were getting hard. you looked back at your computer screen. the email is still there. you’re not crazy. you feel like you are though.
the roll of the cheap gaming chair you bought from amazon sounded muffled in your ears as you backed away from your computer, getting up to get ready for the day with that email still lingering like an itch on your scalp that you can’t seem to satisfy. you need to get to work.
your co-workers noticed the blank stare in your eyes as you slipped on your chef coat and pants, hands on autopilot as you tucked hair into your hat and tied the apron around your waist. it smelled of fresh detergent since they just washed your uniform. your friend had to even point out that you cut your finger when dicing onions because you were too out of it to even notice. or was it that working in the food industry made your fingers numb to the sensation since it happens so many times? ... huh.
when you got back home, you opened up the email again. it’s still there. it’s still real. did you want it to be fake? part of you says yes but the majority of you hoped not. i mean, you’ve been following this guy for.. what, months now? lord knows how much money you’ve sent to him. he wants to start the call at 7pm on discord.
you thought he might use something else other than that app but he was probably just using an alternative account and he most likely changes his user after every raffle. if you were him, you would do the same thing.
...
you should probably take a shower.
it was 6:40 and your hair was still damp with water, towel resting on your shoulders to catch any stray droplets from getting your shirt wet. you kind of wanted to back out. the fear of being one to one with the camboy you’ve been fantasizing about for a long while now was scaring you a bit.
fingers fidgeting with the paper stars littering your desk and your foot rapidly tapping against the floor, you watched the seconds go by on your desktop. your dominant hand reaches for your mouse and highlights his username to copy it and paste it onto the add user section, sending the friend request to see that he accepts it not even 2 minutes later. ...was he getting ready?
your webcam was sitting on your desk, not properly hooked onto the top of your computer. it was plugged in but you hardly ever use it so it just sits where it is. should you set it up? ..no, you didn’t feel like it. your mic was completely ready though, as always. you and your friends would always play together on call, so it was your most used piece of equipment.
4 minutes.
your stomach twisted in anxiety.
choso sighed as he applied lotion all over his torso, all too used to the way he prepared everything during streams and bonus videos locked behind an even bigger paywall. this sidegig he was doing felt like a chore sometimes but money was money, and by god did this account make him a lot of it.
lots of women flocked to his account, entranced by the way his voice stuttered whenever he close, his hips that instinctively jerked because his hand wasn’t able to move any faster, and the whimpers that teared into the mic when he came all over his hands and milked himself for all that he’s worth. they mostly talked about how perfect his dick looked but that was an average comment in his chat.
he saw the friend request notification pop up on his computer and figured he’d at least get his cock hard before the call even started. he put on some random porno in the background, stroking himself with little care and when he got half-hard, he figured that would’ve been enough. he accepted the friend request and close the tab with the video playing, looking over to see that he had 4 minutes until he would start the call.
fingers moving expertisley across the keyboard, he made sure to tell you that the first 30 minutes of this session was free, any longer and you would have to start paying up. you replied with a very short, “got it.” and left it at that. you seemed to type out something more before it quickly went away, causing choso to raise an eyebrow. were you scared?
35 seconds.
choso was getting tired of waiting, so he began the call. unbeknownst to him, you freaked out when you heard the ringtone rumble through your speakers, hesitating to accept the call. in the end, you did anyway because you didn’t have to pay for this private session for 30 whole minutes.
the half-curse’s hand went back to his dick, stroking it with barely any passion behind his movements. however, he wasn’t expecting to see the face of the winner from the drawing within 5 minutes of the call, teeth biting into his fist as his other hand’s fingers worked himself open. choso swore he was no longer half-hard, dick twitching to life in his hands, pre already leaking from the tip of his cock.
he was used to mostly knowing that women were behind the screen and heavily suspected that you might’ve been one- but fuck, to know that another man was getting off to his voice, his cock, drove him wild.
maybe he’ll get rid of that 30 minute rule.
you didn’t mean to turn your webcam on.
you could feel your stomach sink when you could see yourself on full display for the camboy in the discord call. it was too late to turn it off now. whatever. you only live once.
“aren’t you just the cutest?” you aren’t sure why you flinched but the way his voice carried those words certainly got you feeling things, “how about you turn your mic on too, yeah? wanna hear your pretty voice.”
shakily, the hand you were biting on reaches for your mouse and you click unmute. your fingers that were inside you accidentally pressed against your prostate, causing a loud moan to fall from your lips, immediately slapping your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. you don’t want to get a noise complaint from the neighbors... again. the first time having to explain that to an officer was embarrassing enough.
“good boy,” he grunts into the mic, bucking his hips up with a loud smack coming from his end of the call, “jus’ the sweetest little thing, aren’t ya? betcha’d be just absolutely adorable if i were to fuck you stupid. it hasn’t even been 15 minutes and you’re drooling all over your pretty fingers.”
you didn’t even notice that you’ve been panting so much that spit began to run down your chin, too absorbed in the way the camboy’s dick spilled even more pre over his massive hands. fuck, just how strong could he be? could he manhandle you? yank your head back using your hair as a handle while blowing your back out? shove you down on his cock because you simply weren’t riding him fast enough?
“you got a dildo on you, baby?” he asks you, his hand slowing down to a stop. his words pulled you out of your abundance of fantasies to shift your focus back into reality, vision a little blurry from the tears resting on your eyelids.
you managed to fumble out a small, “mhmm..” just loud enough for him to hear and he tells you to grab it. in a slight daze, you reach into one of your many desk drawers to pull out the toy that sat in its box, already cleaned from its prior use.
“do a favor for me, yeah? put it in nice and slow, imagine it’s my cock stuffing you full. how big ‘s your toy? five- six inches?” he sure likes to ask a lot of stuff, you notice.
“‘s seven..” you mutter, wincing when you push the toy inside your hole, stretching you full and your mind goes numb.
he chuckles, deep and breathy and shit- “so you’re a size queen? that’s what they call it, right?” he starts pumping his fist around his cock again, albeit slower than before. you would take a bet that he was edging himself, “that’s it. such a good boy f’me.”
legs quaking in place, you managed to get it all inside you. sitting on it was much harder on your chair than you anticipated, the current position you were holding getting uncomfortable. cautiously, you lifted your hips, wrapping your hand around your own dick and giving it a few strokes while breathy moans left your lips, slamming yourself back down on the dildo. your eyes widened in surprise as the tip of it pressed against your prostate, a loud whimper echoing throughout your room.
“fuck-! you’re so cute, mmph- k-keep going, baby. i’m getting close- ah!” you could see that his hand was moving much faster than when you last looked up at your camera, quick breaths and filthy pleas paired with the desperate thrusts of his hips.
 stumbled cries left your lips when you began to keep up with his pace, fingers getting sticky with pre as you continue to stimulate yourself. through blurred tears, you could see his hips rut one last time before a stifled moan left his throat and his fist was coated with his cum, dripping onto his pants.
he winces at the overstimulation from just shifting his hand to let go of his softening cock, grabbing a tissue to clean himself up while watching you bounce up and down your toy. you could even say he was jealous. even so, he could tell you were pathetically chasing your own orgasm, breathy sighs escaping from the confines of your lips. eyes closed in slight shame yet concentration, your thumb came up to the tip of your dick and rubbed, causing a yelp to slip through and your eyes opened once more.
however, you weren’t expecting to see the gorgeous face behind the creator of all those inappropriate streams you’ve watched the second your hips slammed back down on the dildo. 
“[name]..”
ropes of your own release spilling out of your dick, it finally registered in your head that the camboy was willingly letting you see this. your thighs quaked not only in nervousness but also in fear that you might get a boner again just from how handsome he was. his face was pale although dusted with a bright hue of red covering his cheeks, eyebags signaling a lack of sleep, he had some sort of black line going over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, and slightly messy black hair tied up into short ponytails. if he wasn't attractive to anyone, he was at least attractive to you.
his pretty and slightly plump lips opened to speak once more, “do you.. wanna meet up in person..?”
“h-huh...?”
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alltoowelltom · 3 months
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Hear me out - cockwarming with lando while he's gaming or something 😩
oh girl- thank you for requesting x
Lando looks up from his game when you push open the door, hovering shyly in the doorway. 
“Hey,” he says, pushing off one side of his headphones. “Y’alright?”
You nod, then shake your head, shrugging helplessly.
“There’s nothing wrong, really, I just…miss you” you whisper the last two words quietly. “Are you streaming?”
He shakes his head, beckoning you over.
“No, just on with Max and some others. D’you wanna come sit with me?”
You smile at him, entering the room properly. Lando scooches his chair back slightly to make space as he pulls you down onto his lap. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his fresh, citrusy scent. 
Lando returns to his game and you feel yourself beginning to drift off in his embrace, shifting slightly every time he curses or runs a hand through his hair when he dies in the game. 
“Y/N,” he whispers harshly, covering the mic on his headphones. “You’ve gotta stop moving on me, baby.”
“Hmm?” you hum sleepily, before feeling him pressing into the underside of your thigh. “Oh my God,” you laugh quietly. 
“You made me like this with all your wriggling!” he defends.
“Do you want me to help?” you ask cheekily, wriggling a little more just for good measure. 
“Can’t, I promised the guys I’d help with this quest and there’s no way I can keep quiet if you suck me off.” he whispers
You nod in understanding, stilling in your movements and resting your head on his shoulder again. Lando is only able to focus on his game for another minute or two before sighing, muting his mic once again. 
“Do you want to like…” he pauses, blush spreading over his cheeks and nose as he tries to find a way to propose his idea. “Like, sit on me or something? I’m going crazy like this.”
“I am sitting on you?”
“No,” he whispers, bringing one hand to stroke your thigh gently. “Like sit on me.”
You’re the one to blush next and Lando giggles, feeling the heat of your face on his neck. 
“Okay,” you whisper.
You lift yourself off him just quick enough for Lando to untie his sweatpants and push them down his thighs. He pulls you back to him immediately, lifting up the flowy skirt you happened to be wearing. 
“Just get comfy, okay baby?” he says, swiping himself through your folds a few times before letting you sink down onto his length. You bury your head back in it’s place in the crook of his shoulder and neck, shivering at the stretch and the feeling of him.
“Okay?” he checks, pressing a quick kiss to your head as you nod and he bottoms out in you.  
“You better be one thousand percent sure that you’re not streaming this, Norris.” you whisper playfully as he pushes his headphones back on, rejoining the game. 
A draft blows across his gaming room and you shiver, the cold bringing up goosebumps on your sliver of exposed back. 
Lando groans breathily at your movement and you stifle a giggle as he tries to cover it up as a cough. 
“Alright there, mate?” Max asks over the call. 
“Oh my fucking God, not this moaning bullshit again.” says Morgan. 
“Sorry guys,” Lando laughs and you shudder in delight at the vibration. “I’m not sure I can control myself today.”
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 5: What I Want
Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown
A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(Gif pulled from google)
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You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs. 
You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up. 
Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble. 
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think. 
“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.” 
“Good.” 
You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?” 
“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” 
You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them. 
“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand. 
“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.” 
“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.” 
“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it. 
“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles. 
“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake. 
“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door. 
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Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. 
“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up. 
“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone. 
“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.” 
“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?” 
“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.” 
“Oh? How so?” 
“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins. 
Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” 
“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.” 
“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.” 
“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.” 
“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.” 
“We’re doing our best.” 
“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.” 
“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.” 
“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.” 
Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.” 
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You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too. 
You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost. 
“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway. 
You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough. 
He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through. 
Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt. 
You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them. 
Tattoos. 
He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings. 
You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him. 
“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand. 
You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles. 
“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.” 
You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you. 
“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you. 
You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit. 
“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...” 
“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him. 
You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run. 
You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.” 
“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks. 
He has a point. 
“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.” 
You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit. 
“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.” 
You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well. 
Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes. 
“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice. 
A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit. 
“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you. 
“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.” 
“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone. 
He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in. 
Don’t back down. 
Don’t back down. 
You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega. 
“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.” 
His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength. 
“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance. 
“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless. 
“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice. 
He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit. 
The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face. 
“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.” 
You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back. 
He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.
“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?” 
“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room. 
“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.” 
Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight. 
“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. 
“It’s his fault.” You murmur. 
“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows. 
Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.
It’s not yours. 
“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position. 
Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.” 
Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode. 
“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.” 
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“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office. 
“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince. 
Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.” 
“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly. 
“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.” 
“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.” 
“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?” 
Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust. 
“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.” 
You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.” 
“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.” 
You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering. 
“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?” 
You nod. “Ozone.” 
She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.” 
Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess? 
You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack. 
“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?” 
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.” 
“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look. 
You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.” 
“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down. 
You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.” 
“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks. 
You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.” 
“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?” 
You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud. 
“Why not?” She asks. 
“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur. 
“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks. 
You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.” 
Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse. 
“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you. 
That word again. 
You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week. 
You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply. 
“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you. 
“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.” 
“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?” 
“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.” 
“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” 
Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain. 
“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?” 
“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.” 
Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.” 
She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin. 
“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide. 
“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.” 
“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...” 
Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”  
The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain. 
“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?” 
You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.” 
She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this. 
That’s not a conversation you want to have right now. 
You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her. 
It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to. 
You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in. 
“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly. 
“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys. 
She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms. 
Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?” 
You nod. “Thank you.” 
She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.” 
You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet. 
You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any. 
Ask for one thing that you want. 
It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to. 
You could ask for something that’s not material. 
Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today. 
You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed. 
You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants. 
You can want this. 
You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this. 
You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling. 
You want this. 
“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-” 
His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed. 
“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-” 
Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 
“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.” 
“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-” 
Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours. 
His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist. 
“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.” 
Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.” 
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You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. 
This isn’t a want. 
You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow. 
“Come in.” 
Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there? 
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen. 
You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.” 
You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air. 
“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough. 
You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.” 
“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.” 
You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap. 
Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him. 
“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him. 
“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand. 
His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders. 
All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you. 
You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe. 
You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest. 
“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck. 
You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent. 
“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body. 
You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it. 
“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly. 
His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before. 
You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again. 
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The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south. 
He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him. 
He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall. 
Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days. 
“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?” 
He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest. 
“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.” 
Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked. 
Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed. 
His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock. 
Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you. 
He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips. 
He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days. 
“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing. 
“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall. 
Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him. 
You’re going to be the death of him. 
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Taglist, part 1:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
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I don’t know why I went full angst on this but maybe one of them totally blanks on your birthday plans so you’re just sitting at a fancy restaurant with the other one wondering where he is
I can see this where Max forgot and you and Charles finally decide to order food and when you get home he was steaming and didn’t realize what was going on
PART TWO.
You look to the front door just to see another random person walking in. Across the table, Charles tries to hold his anger inside, he tries very hard not to show how affected he also is.
“Maybe something came up.” Your boyfriend tries to smile and reassure you that everything is fine, that Max has a good excuse for not showing up.
He better have a god excuse or Charles is gonna make him sleep on the couch for the next month.
“Should we order? I’m pretty sure Max will want for us to celebrate. It’s your birthday, princess.”
You nod, not trusting your voice to speak.
It’s not the ideal celebration. Not when one of your boyfriends is not there with you and doesn’t pick up the phone. But Charles does a pretty good job of making you forget about it.
At least until dessert cames and they sing happy birthday to you.
*
“We have plenty of leftovers,” You go to the kitchen as Charles closes the front door. “You want a cup of tea, Char?”
“Don’t be a cunt! I was winning!”
You and Charles look at each other.
“Wha–”
But Charles is already sprinting up the stairs.
You follow him, heart rate through the roof, into Max’s streaming room.
And there he is. Max. Wearing sweatpants and streaming. You look at the screen that says how long he’s been there: four hours. Then, you see his phone on the floor, right next to a couple of Red Bulls.
“What the fuck, Max?!” Charles exclaims, making his boyfriend jump scared.
“Jesus Christ,” He touches his chest, just where his heart is. “Everyone’s laughing, by the way.” Max points to his headphones and then the screen where his friends, in fact, are laughing.
But you couldn’t care less about it.
“Max.” You say softly, grabbing Charles’ hand and caressing his wrist to try and calm him.
“What the actual fuck, mate.”
Charles never calls him mate.
“What?” He looks at Charles, then at you. “You look pretty good. Where did you go?” Max asks, already turning around to keep playing.
But Charles is having none of it. He walks to one side of the room, where everything is connected, and shuts everything off.
“Charles!”
Max is off his chair in a matter of seconds, looking absolutely pissed.
“Oh, you don’t get to be angry.” Charles takes two long strides, but you stand between them before he does something he will regret later. “We waited three hours! It was her birthday, you giant, fucking idiot.”
Charles throws his arms in the air before getting out of the room, leaving a speechless Max behind.
“What?”
You breathe deeply, avoiding eye contact. “You don’t even remember my birthday?”
“Of course I remember your birthday, Schatje.” He picks up his phone, seeing all the missed calls and texts. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with tears.
You can’t see properly anymore. “I think is better if you sleep in the guest room tonight, Max.”
You leave before he has time to say anything, running down the hallway and into your room. It’s only then that you let the tears flow freely down your face.
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peachsayshi · 2 months
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter. 
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬・tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬・ wc: 3,383
↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx
nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table. 
a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away. 
he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home. 
your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to. 
you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current. 
he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.
he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.  
shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately. 
“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat. 
that student was his responsibility... 
...and he failed him entirely. 
“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango.  “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!” 
her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day. 
he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down. 
“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet. 
right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her... 
“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on. 
“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair. 
“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles. 
“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”
“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!” 
she’s only six. 
she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction. 
he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty. 
he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.  
he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…
all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.  
“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.” 
his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him. 
the room is dead silent. 
your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice. 
what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.  
nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place. 
he regrets his words immediately. 
he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room. 
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next. 
fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.
you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists. 
“kento?” 
he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away. 
after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry. 
“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement. 
his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?” 
the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright. 
“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug. 
nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.
your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.
a safety, a reassurance of home.
you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."
a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.
nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."
you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.
"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"
"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.
"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."
you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."
"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.
"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.
your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.
she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.
he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.
"my love?" he calls out to her.
his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.
"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.
"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."
her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.
she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.
"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.
her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.
nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.
she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.
he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.
“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.
“and what tale are we reading tonight?”
she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”
nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.
“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”
“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.
nanami’s heart sinks.
that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.
“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.
her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.
nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”
she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.
“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”
“why was it bad?”
nanami sighs once again.
she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".
thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.
“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”
"shaken up?"
"scared, my love"
his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.
nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.
his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.
nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.
"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"
she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.
"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.
your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.
nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.
"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"
nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.
"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"
she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.
"I did?"
nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.
"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”
“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"
"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.
“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.
you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.
“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”
“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.
“shall I carry on?”
“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."
"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.
"I know so, papa!"
"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"
"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"
"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"
"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.
you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.
“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."
"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.
you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.
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starrylevi · 9 months
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Obsessed with the idea that people forget you have Captain Levi’s heart until they see him do little things for you. Like at breakfast, before his morning meeting with Erwin, he’ll pass by your table and casually hand you a loaded plate. “They didn’t have those croissants you usually like but I found those weird ass pastries you can’t stop talking about.” And then he’ll just walk away without saying anything else. Or like, while you’re all suiting up for a mission, he’ll randomly walk up to you and adjust the thigh straps of your odm gear to make sure they’re properly secured and you’re just like “!!!” inside. Or like for every group meeting he arrives early and saves you the seat next to him and when you arrive, he’ll pull out your chair, waiting till you sit so he can briefly place his hand on your thigh as a greeting 🥰🥰🥰🥰
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lemonlover1110 · 3 months
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𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑
Toji Fushiguro
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Ever since you spilled coffee on your co-worker, you find yourself getting in compromising situations with him.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, co-worker Toji, office sex, oral sex (m. receiving), gagging, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, praise, semi-public sex(?? they're in the janitor's closet in the first part and there's people outside)
*Finally the last one!!! thank you all so much for 10k again🥹 I'm almost at 13k now so thank you all so much for your support, I love you all so very much
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Apart from his name, you don’t know anything about the man you work with. Toji sits next to you eight hours a day, yet you’ve never gotten to properly know him. You have no idea if he’s married, if he has kids, a pet– What waits for him when he gets home? Does he have any hobbies? The only time you ever talk is about work, and you typically wouldn’t care about knowing your coworkers if it weren’t for the fact that you constantly find yourself daydreaming over Toji.
What you like the most about Toji may be the fact that he barely speaks since it leaves you questioning everything about his personality. You make a perfect version of your co-worker in your head which has you head over heels for him. It certainly doesn’t help that Toji is exactly the type of man who you want behind you, fucking you senseless.
You hate to have those types of thoughts in the middle of the day, and worst of all, you’re mindlessly staring at him, and it’s too late to turn away when he asks you what’s wrong. He clears his throat, and you feel your face burning hot when he asks, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my shirt?”
“Oh– No! Sorry…” You can’t play it off much since you stared at him like a lovesick teenage girl. You try to ignore the awkward interaction by looking back at your computer, trying to go back to work, trying to ignore the very embarrassing fact that Toji caught you daydreaming.
You feel his eyes on you as you turn back to your work, and you swear you could crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. His gaze lingers on you for a moment before Toji turns his attention back to his own job. You don’t stress about it, completely forgetting about the awkward interaction after five minutes. 
You work fine throughout the afternoon, and when you finally get out of your chair to take a break, you bump into him. Toji’s coffee spills all over his white button up shirt, making a gasp leave your lips. Toji doesn’t have much of a reaction even though the coffee looks hot. Your immediate reaction is to rub your long sleeve on his shirt to try to clean it up. You’re repeating, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”
“It’s fine. You’re fine.” Toji just holds his arms up as if he were being threatened by a gun. Toji isn’t a man that gets flustered easily but by the way you’re unintentionally touching him to clean him up, his cheeks burn. “It’s fine, really. I’ll just clean up in the bathroom–”
“I’m sorry.” You jerk back when you realize just how much you’ve been touching him without his permission. He lets out a chuckle, making it seem that it’s fine. It was an honest mistake, he surely doesn’t mind if a pretty girl bumps into him… Now, if it was one of the old guys that work in the office, it’d be a whole different story. You watch him walk away, mentally cursing at yourself for being so fucking dumb.
You notice the mess on the floor and you tiptoe around it to go to the janitor’s closet and get some stuff to clean it up. You enter the small room, turning on the light to look for some paper towels. You click your tongue, seeing that they’re on the top shelf.
You stand on your tippy toes trying to reach a roll but they’re too far back for you. Would it be too embarrassing to jump? Nobody is watching… Just when you’re about to jump, you feel a body pressed against your back. Your head slowly turns, and luckily, you find your handsome co-worker, grabbing the paper towel for you. 
“Here you go.” He gives it to you when you turn around, and you awkwardly smile at him as you take it from his hand.
“Thank you, Fushiguro. Again, I’m so sorry.” You repeat. You feel your heart skip a beat when you realize just how close he is, hearing him breathe and feeling the warmth that his body gives. His dark green eyes are filled with lust, and he makes no effort in disguising it. You’re flattered, really, but this isn’t appropriate considering where you’re at.
“Please, call me Toji.” He licks his lips, and you feel as if you’re burning up. The heat his body emits really doesn’t help you cool you down either. Your eyes look at the door that’s closed for a reason… It’s locked.
You’ve imagined this scenario one too many times, and you always imagined yourself as the most confident woman in the world– But as it happens to you, you’re too shy to really do anything. “I’ve seen the way you look at me… And thought of a way your pretty face could make up for my ruined shirt.”
“Toji…” Is all that manages to leave your pathetic lips. You’re not scared, your body is practically begging for his touch. “It’s not appropriate to do what you want to do here.”
“Why not? The door is locked.” He says as he grabs your hand and puts it on his belt. His lips meet yours, his tongue going past your lips and wandering around in your mouth before it presses against yours. He’s just like you imagined, intoxicating.
Your hands begin to move on their own, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You can’t take too long since you have to get back to work soon, it’ll be quick, hopefully. You pull away from the kiss, getting on your knees. You pull down his briefs, letting his cock free from its confinement. It’s more than you expected.
You lick your lip before biting down and looking up at him. He has a smirk on his face as he waits for you to do more than just stare. Your tongue licks up from the base to the tip before fully wrapping your mouth around it, taking as much as you can get.
You bob your head slowly, starting off slow. And as Toji feels your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock, he thinks that maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. He lets out a breathy moan, feeling so good. Your bobs begin to pick up a bit of speed, and the man stops talking for a second to enjoy the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock. 
“You look so pretty on your knees like that. You’re just a pretty little thing.” He sighs, relieved. He decides to bite his bottom lip, holding back moans so the whole office doesn’t hear him as you suck him off. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”
You look up at him, pleased with what you’re doing. You’re doing what you’ve always thought of doing with him– But you’re in the office. You can’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be heard. But he got a bit too caught up, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and your tongue. 
He grabs the back of your head and pushes your head so you gag on his cock. It’s your punishment for ruining his shirt. Your gagging is like music to his ears, the greatest melody he has ever heard.
“Fuck– Fuck-” He moans as a couple of tears leave your eyes. He begins to move his hips, which he finds more fun than just pushing your head on his cock. “God, such a pretty girl taking my cock.”
He’s completely forgotten about the fact that you’re in the office, and he’s getting loud. He’s staring down at you, admiring just how beautiful you look with your mouth wrapped around him. He lets out a groan, filling your mouth with his cum. 
He finally lets go of your head, and you take your mouth off his cock. You swallow most of his cum, but some of it manages to escape and it drips down the corners of your mouth. Toji bends down to clean it up, pressing you to open your mouth so he can wipe the remaining cum on your tongue. 
“You have to fix your makeup, by the way. I’ll see you out there.” Toji says, fixing his pants before unlocking the door and leaving you to fix yourself up.
You’d definitely be mad being left alone so fast after sucking a guy off, but you can’t be mad at him. If anything, it makes you want him even more.
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“Hey, can you help me with this?” Toji asks, eyes focused on the new program that you’re working with. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t know how to use it– Not that you want to be rude but it makes sense.
After your little encounter in the janitor’s closet, Toji hasn’t really tried to do anything else with you. You were slightly disappointed but you managed to move on. What really worried you was any of your co-workers hearing how he moaned while you two just managed to be locked in the janitor’s closet. What really made things confusing was the fact that you came back with no paper towels even though you were going to clean up the mess you just made. 
“Yeah sure.” You’re sure that it won’t take too long. You’re off in around thirty minutes, teaching him shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.
At least that’s what you thought, it seems that Toji isn’t smart enough to catch on with it quickly. Your co-workers begin to leave one by one, and when you’re the last ones in the office, you’re convinced that Toji isn’t even qualified for the job. Until you realize that Toji isn’t even paying attention, his eyes have been ogling your cleavage the entire time… It’s not like you can even blame the poor guy since your boobs have been practically on his face the entire time.
“Should we continue this tomorrow? It seems your eyes are elsewhere.” You point out, and he lets out a chuckle.
“I agree. We should continue with that tomorrow. I need help with something else though.” Toji says, clicking out of the program.
“Can we do it tomorrow–” You begin but he shakes his head. You furrow your brows in confusion as you watch him turn off the computer. What exactly does he need help with?
Toji stands up from his chair, taking two steps to get close to you before his hand goes under your chin and he makes you look up at him. It clicks right there and then. Toji didn’t need to learn how to use the program, he just wanted to get you all alone in the office.
“I don’t think this issue can wait till tomorrow.” His voice becomes husky, and you squeeze your thighs out of reflex. You’re not planning on fighting it. He’s been flirtatious with you all morning, and you’ve been thinking of him a million different positions he can put you in… Curse your dirty mind. 
“Does it really? I thought you didn’t even want me after… Well, you know, the incident in the janitor’s closet. You didn’t even try to make a move on me after.” You point out, and Toji laughs. You don’t exactly find what’s funny about this. “What’s funny?”
“Maybe you’re just not available for me. You’re always going out with everyone else, what do you want me to do? Steal you from them? Let them know I want to fuck the shit out of you?” He answers. And maybe he’s right, you have been going out with your other co-workers after work to get a drink, and when it’s not that, he’s out of the office. You really haven’t given him much of a chance to ask you out or let him fuck you after work. 
You won’t admit you’re at fault, therefore you decide to move your hands to the back of his head.
“Just shut up and kiss me.” You tell him, pulling him into a kiss. It’s not worth spending time arguing any longer since you two clearly want to do something that doesn’t involve much talking. While your tongues press against each other, his hands move under your ass to lift you up and put you on his desk.
As he kisses you passionately, his hand goes to your thigh, caressing the soft flesh that your skirt exposes. His hand goes up to your panties, toying with your clothed cunt, working you up. He moves your panties to the side, running his fingers through your already slick folds. He pulls away with a smirk on his face, only to say, “You’re already so wet for me, pretty girl. But I haven’t done anything?”
“Shut up.” You sound embarrassed, and you are. Just the thought of him fucking you is enough to make you go crazy. 
He pushes two fingers into your cunt, his lips landing on yours again. His tongue glides over yours while he curves his fingers, searching for your sweet spot. He knows when he finds it, feeling a moan through your tongue.
His fingers toy with you, while his free hand frees his cock. He pulls his fingers out when his cock is free. He runs the tip through your folds, and he begins to tease you. You hold your breath in anticipation, waiting ever so patiently for Toji to bury himself inside of you.
You breathe in as he pushes himself inside of you. He lets out a breathy moan as your walls wrap around his cock. Fuck, he didn’t think you would feel so tight and warm around him… Oh fuck, this is too fucking good. How did he not fuck you in the janitor’s closet immediately?
His cock slowly stretches you out, and you bite your bottom lip, holding back from being loud. There’s no one around, but you still don’t want to draw any attention to yourself.
Toji starts off slow but quickly picks up speed.  You’re taking him so well, and fuck, do you look beautiful. He’s surprised he hadn’t made a move sooner– But he couldn’t, he had no way of knowing that you liked him. Not until he caught you daydreaming while staring at him.  
“You’re so fucking pretty.” He tells you as his head goes to the crook of your neck. He licks it before biting down lightly. His head remains buried on your neck, where he lets his moans out so they come out muffled. “And your pussy is so fucking tight.”
He’s too lost in pleasure to even have noticed how your hand had gone down and now you’re playing with your clit. He hears your sweet moans in the air, which is truly the best music that has ever graced his ears. Fuck, he could ask you to marry him right then and there just to hear that every morning and night.
“Oh fuck, Toji–” Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Toji’s hitting just the right spot, and he doesn’t even know it. You’re squeezing around him as your orgasm nears. You had many ideas on how your work day would end, but you truly didn’t expect to be on cloud nine when it ended.
Thank the heavens for Toji. That’s all you can think about when you reach your high, loudly moaning his name which echoes in the empty office building. 
Toji’s breath gets caught up in his chest, his thrusts getting sloppy as his release approaches. He doesn’t want this to end yet– But maybe he could invite you out to dinner and then take you back to his place. The night doesn’t have to end so soon… 
His nails dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he reaches his release, his hot cum filling you up. Toji remains buried inside of you for a moment, while you both take a moment to regulate your breath. He pulls out and fixes your panties quickly before his cum gets everywhere.
You’re both quiet as you gather your stuff to leave. You wait for each other to go to the elevator, and even when you’re inside the lift, you’re awfully quiet for a pair of people that just had sex. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You smile at Toji when you get to your floor. He grabs your hand before you can walk away and he proposes,
“Let’s actually grab a drink.”
2K notes · View notes
floatmeintothesun-2 · 4 months
Text
Drunken Love
Pairing; Miguel O’hara x afab! Reader
Tags; grinding, lazy sex, smut, cumming in pants, word count 2.2k
Summary; Miguel really can’t keep his hands to himself when you’re sitting in his lap like this.
18+ MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
You’re intoxicating, Miguel reflects, watching you seat yourself on his lap with lidded eyes. He can’t get enough, you’ve got him utterly hooked. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips and ass at equal pace.
He had a glass of alcohol in his hand a moment prior before it was set aside and forgotten in the haze that had consumed him. He can’t get drunk anymore — not since he was genetically altered but he feels light headed and dizzy  just from your presence. 
He tilts his head up to look at you, lips curving in a smile as he reclines back into his chair. One of your hands is in his hair, carding through dark brown strands. The other is on his cheek, your thumb smoothing over warm skin. 
“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here in my apartment?” He asks with a grin, pulling you closer to him. You smile back.
“Mm… I don’t know,” You hum, “I’m looking for my boyfriend. Have you seen him?” Your index traces a light path down his jaw leading down his neck. He can’t help but shiver, tilting his head a little as you reach his collarbone.
“Well, you’re in luck, pretty girl,” Miguel nearly purrs, palming flesh and sliding his hands underneath your top so he can feel your skin against his. “I’m right here.”
You laugh and fuck, he doesn’t think he’s heard a sound sweeter than that. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you know it. He sucks in a quiet breath as your hand slides down to his chest, tweaking one of his nipples playfully through his shirt. He bares teeth at you with no heat, content to let you do whatever you want with him.
You shift so that you’re properly straddling him and Miguel can feel himself already half hard under you. He holds you at the place under your breasts, wandering hands slipping under your bra and unclasping the hook in the back nimbly. You sigh, deep and low as large hands palm at your tits greedily. 
“Someone’s impatient.” You kiss the corner of his jaw, and he turns his head so he can catch your next on his lips. 
“Hard not to be,” Miguel breathes, trailing his lips from the corner of your mouth to your neck. And truly, it’s hard not to be. How can he possibly be patient when you’re on top of him like this? You look practically ethereal as the dim light from the overhead light shines down on you.
“Take this off?” You pull at his shirt – it’s old, a simple black tee that used to hang off him in his college years. Now, it’s tight against his skin, easily displaying hard lines of muscle, stretching across broad shoulders. He obliges your request, pulling it over his head, feeling the chill in the air soak into his bare skin before your warmth chases it away. 
Hands, smaller than his, flutter down his bare abdomen, feather light touches trailing down his ribs before rising to settle on his shoulders. Miguel peppers kisses over your face, moving his own hands so he can press you down in his lap. He pokes at your bottoms, a finger tugging at the waistband. 
“Take this off?” He mimics you, raising his eyebrows a little as you laugh.  
“Don’t wanna get up,” You reply, and he shrugs, grabbing greedy handfuls of your ass. You give him a look and —
Miguel hisses, low in his throat at the feeling of your body grinding down against his and suddenly his dick is much more than just half hard. Sticky pre seeps out of him and he swallows dryly, your heady scent swirling in the air. If he was any lesser man, he would’ve passed out by now. And also probably busted. 
“You’re a minx, pretty girl,” He rasps, clenching his jaw. Fuck, he can practically feel how wet your pussy is, can fucking smell your damn arousal through the air. It’s making him dizzy with need, he can barely think. Your arms loop around his neck leisurely as you lean in to kiss him – something he welcomes readily. 
“Would you have me any other way?” You tilt your head, coy. He almost misses your words with the way he’s focusing on your gorgeous body. 
“No. I wouldn’t,” He whispers, big hands forcing your hips down onto the hard shape of his cock. Making you feel how bad he wants you right now. His tip is pressing against your clit through the fabric and god, he’s so big, tenting through his sweatpants. You swallow back a moan as his hips twitch up, pressing against you in just the right angle. 
Your panties are practically soaked by now, needy pussy pulsing to have him inside of you. But you’re too impatient to get up and discard your undergarments, heat coursing through your veins like molten fire. His huge frame dwarfs yours easily but right now, it’s you who’s on top of him, you who’s making this 6 foot 9 inch man moan and hiss with every teasing dip of your hips over his straining erection. 
His breaths come in quiet growls, and he squeezes his eyes shut as you tease and tease and tease.
“Baby, please,” He nearly whines, obedient hands resting lightly over your waist. Your cat-like grin makes sparks of halfhearted irritation and warmth dance through his nervous system. He knows you’re just as desperate as he is and he kneads your plush thighs as if trying to entice you. 
You’re addicting and infuriating, Miguel thinks to himself. He wants to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you until you’re sobbing in pleasure and he can barely breathe through the haze of overstimulation. He wants you to keep him right here and make him beg for just a scrap of your attention. Mostly, he just wants you. 
You finally decide to grant him some relief, messily slotting your hips against his and a ragged hum escapes Miguel’s throat, low and quiet. The shape of his dick is defined through his sweats, pressing and twitching against you through the fabric. You can’t help but moan as he rubs his tented half against you, almost like a dog in heat. You have half a mind to tease him for it, but the way he presses up against you makes your head feel foggy. 
The edges of razor sharp fangs glide over the sensitive flesh of your neck as he peppers kisses and nips to your skin indiscriminately. It’s slow, it’s messy, his hips roll upwards underneath you, searching for that sweet friction. A particularly harsh bite has you hissing lightly and Miguel soothes it over with his tongue. It doesn’t bleed, but you’re sure it’ll leave a mark. 
And he had to leave it in the most obvious place ever? Bastard. You shoot him an unamused look and he just gives you a smug expression. 
“Something wrong, hermosa?” He coos, all cloyingly saccharine, and you roll your eyes. If someone told you that this man was begging for your touch three seconds ago, you wouldn’t have believed them. 
“Don’t act cute now,” You grumble and he laughs, a wonderfully soft sound. His hands drift to the small of your back, putting pressure and lazily grinding against you, keeping your pussy anchored over his dick through layers of fabric. It’s like a haze has settled over you both, something sweet and heavy and sticky all at once. It’s languid and mind numbingly good — it’s different from the way he fucks you. You might even call it domestic. 
Something about the way Miguel stares at you feels almost reverent. He looks so pretty here, mussed up hair and heaving chest. He’s warm and you can feel it in the way his thick thighs tense and the way his hard cut abdomen presses up against you. Sticky sweetness seeps into your limbs like molasses, and you can’t help but kiss him, all teeth and tongue. His low pleased hum vibrates through his chest and vaguely, you think he tastes something like wine and spice. 
He’s sloppy and hungry, quickly deepening the kiss as he leans closer. It’s not until you’re running out of oxygen that you tap his shoulder and he pulls away, a pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. You’re panting, kiss swollen lips shiny with saliva and he’s groaning, rolling his hips upwards. His clothed cock catches on your clit deliciously and he catches on quickly, making sure to aim for that one fucking spot that makes you see stars. 
“Shit — Miguel, feels so fucking good…” you gasp into his mouth and he groans. You sound so sweet when you moan and whine on his lap. He’s head over heels for you, he decides. You could sit on his face for hours, suffocating him between plush thighs, and he’d say thank you. He’s almost tempted to pull you to the bedroom right now just so he can beg you to do just that, but fuck, with the way his dick is throbbing, he might not make it that far. 
“Just like that, baby, c’mon,” He nips at your neck lightly and licks into your mouth greedily, “you want it? Want this fat cock? I’ll give it to you, I’ll give it all, j’st cum, baby, you can do it,” quick hands come up to palm at your breasts, squeezing stiff peaks and god damn, he knows how to use them.
Your back arches, pressing your tits against his bare chest and Miguel dips to litter marks around your collar bone and lower, humming in satisfaction as you thread a hand in his hair. You’re a mess, he’s panting and groaning, hair mussed up, dark crimson eyes squeezed shut. He might just be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.
The thing that really does it for you is the way he says your name. Breathy and pleading, it makes your head spin, and you press a searing kiss to his lips as the knot that has been slowly building finally snaps. It’s filthy, sinful, and fuck, its everything you want. 
Miguel tenses underneath you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he shudders and twitches. He sounds almost drunk from the way he’s slurring your name, honey sweet and desperate. He cums with a quiet grunt, staining his boxers with it, soaking the light gray of his sweats.
You slump against his chest and he hisses lightly as you brush against his slowly softening cock. A burly arm comes to loop around your waist, pulling you closer while you gently move sweaty strands of hair out of his face.
“Good?” He asks, and you hum in affirmation. He grimaces at the feeling of slick cum dripping down his balls. “We should get clean.”
“My thighs feel sticky,” You mutter, trying to gently extricate yourself from your boyfriend’s hold so you can walk to the restroom. He shoots you a look and sweeps you up into his arms easily, pressing an easy kiss to your neck. Instinctively, you hold onto him, leaning against his bare chest as he carries you to your shared bathroom. 
He glances at you as he pushes open the door with his foot, considering.
“Bath or shower?” Miguel tilts his head, looking remarkably composed for a man who just came in his pants a few minutes ago. 
“Shower,” You answer immediately, and he puts you down, turning to strip off his clothes and hearing you do the same. You turn on the water, setting it to both of your preferred temperatures and slip into the stall, sighing in relief at the warmth. Miguel joins you after a moment, swiping your body wash off from the corner. Technically, it’s his, but you use it so often that he just delegates it as a shared item. 
You say that his is better because it’s fancy. He doesn’t object. After all, he really doesn’t mind you smelling like him.
Squeezing some into his hand, he cleans you up, soapy suds washed away by the spray overhead as you do the same for him. You pay special attention to his pecs and ass and he just sighs like he’s annoyed. He’s not. Honestly, he doesn’t care — you can touch whatever you want. He’s all yours and he relishes that fact whole heartedly. 
Your hands trail down his chest and abdomen. He smothers a smile against your hair, pressing you up against the shower wall and hooking strong hands under your thighs. 
“Wanna go another round?” He asks, looking down at you, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. You card a hand through wet curls and he leans into it.
“Sure, why not?”
Needless to say, you don’t come out of the bathroom until much later, littered with marks and sore between the thighs. Miguel follows after you, looking utterly satisfied with himself, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist as you both enter your bedroom. It’ll be a pain to wear a scarf for the next few weeks but with the way Miguel practically drapes himself over you has you not caring. 
A problem for future you. For now, you’ll just snuggle under the covers and exchange sleepy kisses with your boyfriend. 
1K notes · View notes
floatmeintothesun · 5 months
Text
Drunken Love
Pairing; Miguel O’hara x afab! Reader
Tags; grinding, lazy sex, smut, cumming in pants, word count 2.2k
Summary; Miguel really can’t keep his hands to himself when you’re sitting in his lap like this.
18+ MINORS DNI
You’re intoxicating, Miguel reflects, watching you seat yourself on his lap with lidded eyes. He can’t get enough, you’ve got him utterly hooked. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips and ass at equal pace.
He had a glass of alcohol in his hand a moment prior before it was set aside and forgotten in the haze that had consumed him. He can’t get drunk anymore — not since he was genetically altered but he feels light headed and dizzy  just from your presence. 
He tilts his head up to look at you, lips curving in a smile as he reclines back into his chair. One of your hands is in his hair, carding through dark brown strands. The other is on his cheek, your thumb smoothing over warm skin. 
“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here in my apartment?” He asks with a grin, pulling you closer to him. You smile back.
“Mm… I don’t know,” You hum, “I’m looking for my boyfriend. Have you seen him?” Your index traces a light path down his jaw leading down his neck. He can’t help but shiver, tilting his head a little as you reach his collarbone.
“Well, you’re in luck, pretty girl,” Miguel nearly purrs, palming flesh and sliding his hands underneath your top so he can feel your skin against his. “I’m right here.”
You laugh and fuck, he doesn’t think he’s heard a sound sweeter than that. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you know it. He sucks in a quiet breath as your hand slides down to his chest, tweaking one of his nipples playfully through his shirt. He bares teeth at you with no heat, content to let you do whatever you want with him.
You shift so that you’re properly straddling him and Miguel can feel himself already half hard under you. He holds you at the place under your breasts, wandering hands slipping under your bra and unclasping the hook in the back nimbly. You sigh, deep and low as large hands palm at your tits greedily. 
“Someone’s impatient.” You kiss the corner of his jaw, and he turns his head so he can catch your next on his lips. 
“Hard not to be,” Miguel breathes, trailing his lips from the corner of your mouth to your neck. And truly, it’s hard not to be. How can he possibly be patient when you’re on top of him like this? You look practically ethereal as the dim light from the overhead light shines down on you.
“Take this off?” You pull at his shirt – it’s old, a simple black tee that used to hang off him in his college years. Now, it’s tight against his skin, easily displaying hard lines of muscle, stretching across broad shoulders. He obliges your request, pulling it over his head, feeling the chill in the air soak into his bare skin before your warmth chases it away. 
Hands, smaller than his, flutter down his bare abdomen, feather light touches trailing down his ribs before rising to settle on his shoulders. Miguel peppers kisses over your face, moving his own hands so he can press you down in his lap. He pokes at your bottoms, a finger tugging at the waistband. 
“Take this off?” He mimics you, raising his eyebrows a little as you laugh.  
“Don’t wanna get up,” You reply, and he shrugs, grabbing greedy handfuls of your ass. You give him a look and —
Miguel hisses, low in his throat at the feeling of your body grinding down against his and suddenly his dick is much more than just half hard. Sticky pre seeps out of him and he swallows dryly, your heady scent swirling in the air. If he was any lesser man, he would’ve passed out by now. And also probably busted. 
“You’re a minx, pretty girl,” He rasps, clenching his jaw. Fuck, he can practically feel how wet your pussy is, can fucking smell your damn arousal through the air. It’s making him dizzy with need, he can barely think. Your arms loop around his neck leisurely as you lean in to kiss him – something he welcomes readily. 
“Would you have me any other way?” You tilt your head, coy. He almost misses your words with the way he’s focusing on your gorgeous body. 
“No. I wouldn’t,” He whispers, big hands forcing your hips down onto the hard shape of his cock. Making you feel how bad he wants you right now. His tip is pressing against your clit through the fabric and god, he’s so big, tenting through his sweatpants. You swallow back a moan as his hips twitch up, pressing against you in just the right angle. 
Your panties are practically soaked by now, needy pussy pulsing to have him inside of you. But you’re too impatient to get up and discard your undergarments, heat coursing through your veins like molten fire. His huge frame dwarfs yours easily but right now, it’s you who’s on top of him, you who’s making this 6 foot 9 inch man moan and hiss with every teasing dip of your hips over his straining erection. 
His breaths come in quiet growls, and he squeezes his eyes shut as you tease and tease and tease.
“Baby, please,” He nearly whines, obedient hands resting lightly over your waist. Your cat-like grin makes sparks of halfhearted irritation and warmth dance through his nervous system. He knows you’re just as desperate as he is and he kneads your plush thighs as if trying to entice you. 
You’re addicting and infuriating, Miguel thinks to himself. He wants to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you until you’re sobbing in pleasure and he can barely breathe through the haze of overstimulation. He wants you to keep him right here and make him beg for just a scrap of your attention. Mostly, he just wants you. 
You finally decide to grant him some relief, messily slotting your hips against his and a ragged hum escapes Miguel’s throat, low and quiet. The shape of his dick is defined through his sweats, pressing and twitching against you through the fabric. You can’t help but moan as he rubs his tented half against you, almost like a dog in heat. You have half a mind to tease him for it, but the way he presses up against you makes your head feel foggy. 
The edges of razor sharp fangs glide over the sensitive flesh of your neck as he peppers kisses and nips to your skin indiscriminately. It’s slow, it’s messy, his hips roll upwards underneath you, searching for that sweet friction. A particularly harsh bite has you hissing lightly and Miguel soothes it over with his tongue. It doesn’t bleed, but you’re sure it’ll leave a mark. 
And he had to leave it in the most obvious place ever? Bastard. You shoot him an unamused look and he just gives you a smug expression. 
“Something wrong, hermosa?” He coos, all cloyingly saccharine, and you roll your eyes. If someone told you that this man was begging for your touch three seconds ago, you wouldn’t have believed them. 
“Don’t act cute now,” You grumble and he laughs, a wonderfully soft sound. His hands drift to the small of your back, putting pressure and lazily grinding against you, keeping your pussy anchored over his dick through layers of fabric. It’s like a haze has settled over you both, something sweet and heavy and sticky all at once. It’s languid and mind numbingly good — it’s different from the way he fucks you. You might even call it domestic. 
Something about the way Miguel stares at you feels almost reverent. He looks so pretty here, mussed up hair and heaving chest. He’s warm and you can feel it in the way his thick thighs tense and the way his hard cut abdomen presses up against you. Sticky sweetness seeps into your limbs like molasses, and you can’t help but kiss him, all teeth and tongue. His low pleased hum vibrates through his chest and vaguely, you think he tastes something like wine and spice. 
He’s sloppy and hungry, quickly deepening the kiss as he leans closer. It’s not until you’re running out of oxygen that you tap his shoulder and he pulls away, a pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. You’re panting, kiss swollen lips shiny with saliva and he’s groaning, rolling his hips upwards. His clothed cock catches on your clit deliciously and he catches on quickly, making sure to aim for that one fucking spot that makes you see stars. 
“Shit — Miguel, feels so fucking good…” you gasp into his mouth and he groans. You sound so sweet when you moan and whine on his lap. He’s head over heels for you, he decides. You could sit on his face for hours, suffocating him between plush thighs, and he’d say thank you. He’s almost tempted to pull you to the bedroom right now just so he can beg you to do just that, but fuck, with the way his dick is throbbing, he might not make it that far. 
“Just like that, baby, c’mon,” He nips at your neck lightly and licks into your mouth greedily, “you want it? Want this fat cock? I’ll give it to you, I’ll give it all, j’st cum, baby, you can do it,” quick hands come up to palm at your breasts, squeezing stiff peaks and god damn, he knows how to use them.
Your back arches, pressing your tits against his bare chest and Miguel dips to litter marks around your collar bone and lower, humming in satisfaction as you thread a hand in his hair. You’re a mess, he’s panting and groaning, hair mussed up, dark crimson eyes squeezed shut. He might just be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.
The thing that really does it for you is the way he says your name. Breathy and pleading, it makes your head spin, and you press a searing kiss to his lips as the knot that has been slowly building finally snaps. It’s filthy, sinful, and fuck, its everything you want. 
Miguel tenses underneath you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he shudders and twitches. He sounds almost drunk from the way he’s slurring your name, honey sweet and desperate. He cums with a quiet grunt, staining his boxers with it, soaking the light gray of his sweats.
You slump against his chest and he hisses lightly as you brush against his slowly softening cock. A burly arm comes to loop around your waist, pulling you closer while you gently move sweaty strands of hair out of his face.
“Good?” He asks, and you hum in affirmation. He grimaces at the feeling of slick cum dripping down his balls. “We should get clean.”
“My thighs feel sticky,” You mutter, trying to gently extricate yourself from your boyfriend’s hold so you can walk to the restroom. He shoots you a look and sweeps you up into his arms easily, pressing an easy kiss to your neck. Instinctively, you hold onto him, leaning against his bare chest as he carries you to your shared bathroom. 
He glances at you as he pushes open the door with his foot, considering.
“Bath or shower?” Miguel tilts his head, looking remarkably composed for a man who just came in his pants a few minutes ago. 
“Shower,” You answer immediately, and he puts you down, turning to strip off his clothes and hearing you do the same. You turn on the water, setting it to both of your preferred temperatures and slip into the stall, sighing in relief at the warmth. Miguel joins you after a moment, swiping your body wash off from the corner. Technically, it’s his, but you use it so often that he just delegates it as a shared item. 
You say that his is better because it’s fancy. He doesn’t object. After all, he really doesn’t mind you smelling like him.
Squeezing some into his hand, he cleans you up, soapy suds washed away by the spray overhead as you do the same for him. You pay special attention to his pecs and ass and he just sighs like he’s annoyed. He’s not. Honestly, he doesn’t care — you can touch whatever you want. He’s all yours and he relishes that fact whole heartedly. 
Your hands trail down his chest and abdomen. He smothers a smile against your hair, pressing you up against the shower wall and hooking strong hands under your thighs. 
“Want to go another round?” He asks, looking down at you, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. You card a hand through wet curls and he leans into it.
“Yes.”
Needless to say, you don’t come out of the bathroom until much later, littered with marks and sore between the thighs. Miguel follows after you, looking utterly satisfied with himself, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist as you both enter your bedroom. It’ll be a pain to wear a scarf for the next few weeks but with the way Miguel practically drapes himself over you has you not caring. 
A problem for future you. For now, you’ll just snuggle under the covers and exchange sleepy kisses with your boyfriend. 
AN; this was supposed to be 500 words omg
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straykeedz · 7 months
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day 2: lee know + accidental stimulation
©straykeedz
tw: bff2l; female anatomy; just soft sex on the couch; very brief nipple play; unprotected piv sex (don’t do this at home 🤨); pull out method; ♡
wc: 3,3k
🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡
this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡
smut below the cut, minors dni.
☔︎
Minho’s hands are all over your skin - touching, brushing, groping, scraping, squeezing your body in whatever way he pleases, as he leaves hungry kisses on your neck and collarbone. At the same time, he slides his hard dick between your wet folds, tip repeatedly brushing against your clit, making you whimper every single time, muffling the sounds that escape your lips with the back of your hand as his movements practically drive you crazy. 
“You’re so wet, baby. So, so wet. I could slip right in.”, he chuckles, collecting some of your arousal with the pad of his fingers, pleased with what he finds between your legs - a literal mess. 
You want him to. You want him to just stop teasing you and fucking put it in instead. You want to feel him, feel the velvety tip of his cock part your slit and finally enter you, you want him to sink in your body, you want him to lose his mind as he thrusts his hard cock back and forth inside of you, you want him to unravel under your touch just like you’re doing right now under his. 
“Please do.”, you grab him by the wrist, hissing when his dick brushes against your clit once more - you’re already so close to cumming, but you want to feel him properly first. 
“You want me to?” Minho asks you, dark brown, boba eyes staring into yours. You nod slowly, and you feel him move one hand to wrap his slender fingers around his velvety cock, ready to align it to your entrance - the very tip now kissing your wet slit, ready to welcome him inside. 
He notices you tensing up a bit, your body stiff under his. With his other hand he caresses your cheek, before smiling warmly at you. “I’m right here, you’re safe with me.”, he whispers on your lips. “I’m gonna take care of you.”
And before he can place his lips on top of yours or push his cock inside, you wake up. 
You blink a couple of times, sight still a bit blurred, as you sit up on… Minho’s couch? How come you’re on… oh. Now you remember - you’re at Minho’s place. Fuck, there’s no way you just had a wet dream about your best friend while being asleep on said best friend’s couch - is there? Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you can’t stop repeating the scene in your dreams over and over in your head. What does this even mean? Never in your eleven years of friendship with Minho you had a wet dream about him - except maybe one time, but you were drunk and particularly horny so it doesn’t really count. 
“Ah, I see you woke up.”, a voice behind you startles you, making your body jolt up. You turn around only to find Minho with two mugs in his hands, the hot steam fogging his glasses a bit. “I’m sorry I startled you. Here, I made tea.”
He places the mug on the small table besides the couch - you smile when you recognize the mug. It’s actually his favorite mug - with cat faces printed all over it, but he knows you love it, so he doesn’t mind you borrowing it whenever you hang out at his place. 
“Thank you.”, you smile at him. 
“Did you have a bad dream?” Minho asks as he sits down on the chair next to his couch. 
“What?”
“You were squirming a lot while sleeping, I assumed you were having a nightmare or something.”, he shrugs, taking a sip of tea. 
Your eyes widen, and you can feel your cheeks turn red because no, you weren’t having a nightmare. In fact, it was far from it. You were actually having a sex dream about your best friend, the same best friend who is in the same room as you. 
“Oh, right. Yeah, a nightmare.”, you lie, shrugging as you bring the cup of tea to your lips. 
“Was it scary?” Minho asks. 
“Very.”, you answer with a chuckle. 
He doesn’t have to know the truth - plus it was scary. Dreaming of sleeping with your best friend? Terrifying. Not because he’s unattractive or anything, quite the opposite actually. However, you don’t need to overthink this - it was just a dream. People dream of weird things all the time, it’s not uncanny. It doesn’t mean you’re in love with Minho or anything. 
“Was I in the dream?”
You nearly choke on your tea. “What?”, you cough. 
“I heard you whispering my name while you were sleeping.” Minho states matter-of-factly, not particularly bothered. 
Great. First you dream of your best friend naked, about to make love to y- have sex with you, and then you apparently whisper his name in your sleep. Was there anything else embarrassing you’d done when unconscious that you’re unaware of?
“Oh, yeah, you…” Were naked on top of me and about to put your dick in my pussy. “You slayed the dragon. Of my nightmare.”, you come up with a lie, and pray to God it sounds convincing. 
“I knew I’d make a hell of a knight.”, he chuckles. “Was my armor shiny?”
You automatically think back of how there was literally no armor, but then again - you can’t really say anything. 
“Very.”, you cut it short. “Now help me with this stupid project.”, you try to change the subject, and it works, because Minho instantly nods and connects his computer to the ac to help you with the brief report you have to submit to your boss. 
You’ve been working at your report for less than ten minutes when a sudden lightning makes your body jolt, followed by a loud thunder, which inevitably results in a power failure, and you and Minho are left in the darkness of his living room - even the computer shut down since its battery is completely dead when not connected to the ac. As you predicted, it’s just the beginning of a violent thunderstorm. 
“Minho, Minho!”, you squeak, and even though you seem calm and composed, he knows deep inside you’re panicking because you’re scared of thunderstorms, a fear you have since you were a child.
“I’m here.”, you feel him getting closer, and you immediately clutch his arm, during your face in his chest as he runs his hand up and down your spine to soothe you. “It’s okay, y/n, everything’s fine.”, he tries to reassure you. “Will you be fine alone for just a couple of seconds?”, he asks you.
You shake your head, gripping on his shirt tight. “No, don’t leave, please.”, you beg. 
He places a soft kiss on top of your head, his hand still rubbing gentle shapes on your back and shoulders. “Hey, it’s fine. I’ll just go see if I have any candles I can lit. It’s pitch black in here.”, he explains. 
“Fine.”, you give in, loosening the grip on his shirt. “But please be quick.”
Minho comes back in the living room less than a couple of minutes later, and you can’t really see him, but he has three or four candles in his hands - his phone in his mouth with the torch on to make sure he doesn’t accidentally stumble. He places them on the small table, then retrieves a pack of matches from the pocket of his sweats, and proceeds to light them one by one. Once he’s done, the room is not pitch dark anymore - the faint light the candles provide is enough to at least allow you to see each other. 
“Done.”, he announces, blowing on the match to extinguish the flame, proud with himself. “Now stay here while I try to figure out how to get the power back on.”, he tells you. 
Minho is back five minutes later, soaking wet, damp hair stuck on his forehead - but the dark room is the evidence that he did not manage to get the power back. He shakes his head and sighs in defeat as he removes his drenched and muddy shoes. 
“I don’t think the power’s going to be back soon.”, he mutters, and he’s about to say something else when another thunder, much louder than the previous ones, makes the both of you jump - and your body starts shaking. 
“Minho!”, you call his name, and he immediately rushes to your side, sensing the panic in your voice. 
As soon as he’s by your side, you clutch his shirt, burying your face in his chest. He tries to protest at first, muttering something along the line of “My shirt is drenched, you’ll get wet.”, but you don’t care. You just need him close. 
“Shit, y/n, you’re shaking like a leaf.” Minho comments, placing one hand on the back of your head, his damp fingers caressing your hair as you’re pressed against his the crook of his neck. “There’s nothing to be scared of, y/n. I’m right here, you’re safe.”, he whispers, one hand on your back. 
Maybe it’s what he says - the exact words he’d uttered in your dreams, when he was about to push his cock inside of you, maybe it’s how he says it - whispering the words in your ear, voice low as it vibrates in his chest, sending a shiver down your spine; or maybe it’s where he says it - in his poorly lightened living room, which makes it ten times more romantic. You don’t know what it is, but you can’t help but feel a knot in your stomach as you feel your arousal begin to pool in your underwear as your heartbeat picks up its pace. You’re sure Minho didn’t say those words in hopes to turn you on - but he did anyways, albeit accidentally. 
Something changed in the way you’re gripping on his shirt - Minho can feel it, and he can also feel the way you’re desperately trying to squeeze your leg and rub yourself in order to find some relief without being too obvious about it but of course, mission failed, because Minho notices. He notices and he can’t pretend he doesn’t feel the familiar warmth building up in his stomach as he swallows the lump in his throat, because he can feel his cock getting harder in the confines of his sweats. The way he’s softly breathing in your ear sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps all over your skin.
Minho’s hand, which was previously on the back of your head gently stroking your hair, moves to your shoulders first, then on your arm - bare since you’re wearing a short sleeved shirt -, brushing the skin softly with the back of his knuckles all the way to your wrist. Meanwhile, he moves his head so that his sharp nose is now brushing against your ear, so close to your jawline and neck - which does not help at all with the pool of wetness in your underwear. In fact, it makes the situation even worse, to the point that you can feel your panties are entirely soaked. He intertwines his fingers with yours - delicately, discreetly, and when he feels you squeezing his hand back, he takes it as a sign to continue. 
The tip of his nose brushes on your exposed neck, which makes you almost whimper - you have to suppress it by biting your lower lip, and Minho wishes you didn’t. When he brushes his lips against the vein on your neck, tho, there’s no way you can stop a choked moan from escaping your throat - closing your eyes in anticipation, impatient to feel his lips on you. When he does place his lips on you - it feels magical. He kisses and licks and bites the skin of your neck, and then right below your jawline, and then on the back of your ear, making you shiver and kick your head back. 
That’s when you meet his eyes for the first time - and you see something new in his, something you’ve never seen before, something you can’t comprehend right now. And you don’t know it, but that’s exactly what Minho’s thinking right now as he looks you in the eyes, blown pupils, you’re looking at him through your eyelashes - he’s looked you in the eyes a million times before, but they never were like they are right now. Not once. Moreover, you look flustered, he notices - cheeks puffy and red. You bite your lower lip, and it’s almost imperceptible, especially in the barely lightened room, but Minho notices it. He notices it, and takes it as an invitation to link your lips - fingers still intertwined with yours while his other hand rests on your lower back. When he leans in, you don’t move, you don’t pull away or anything - in fact, you stay right there and lean in as well, closing your eyes as your heart hammers in your chest. 
Minho’s lips feel even better on yours, they’re soft and, surprisingly, not dry at all - when you brush your tongue on his lower lip, you can’t help but notice how he tastes of green tea, a reminiscence of the hot beverage he’d prepared for you both. It doesn’t take long before the kiss turns into an heated make-out session, and at some point Minho moves his hand from your back to the back of your head, which allows him to crash his lips on yours even harder. 
It doesn’t look like a first kiss at all, and, truth be told, it doesn’t feel like one either. It feels almost natural - as if you and him have been doing this for forever, at least a million times before, which is something that can’t be further from the truth. 
You only pull away from each other when Minho feels you tugging at his damp shirt, a clear signal you want it off. With one last peck on your lips, he lets go of your hand and removes his shirt - pulling it by the collar and throwing it somewhere in his living room. Then, his lips are back on yours, and it’s his hands that are tugging at your shirt now, as he helps you take it off, leaving you in your bra in front of him. It’s not even one of your sexiest bras, it’s one you use regularly, and it’s pretty worn out, but Minho doesn’t seem to care. 
You’re now lying on the couch, your bodies pressed together - your bra is the only thing that’s in the way of feeling your bare chests. Minho’s breath hitches in his throat when you hook your thumbs on the waistband of his sweats and gently start to pull them down his legs - he didn’t think you’d be going that far tonight. He kneels between your legs, not even thinking about stop kissing you, and pulls his sweats down the curve of his ass and slides them down his thighs, freeing his cock, which slaps on his abdomen. It’s long and hard, slightly curved - and it looks absolutely delicious. 
You prop yourself on your elbows when Minho tugs at your jeans - undoing the button and unzipping them incredibly fast despite his shaking hands, and you lift your ass to facilitate him as he slides them off your thighs. They end up on the floor, next to his, together with your underwear. It’s pointless to keep your bra on given the fact you’re both naked from the waist down, so you quickly unclasp it and let it fall on the floor as well. 
It should feel at least a little weird, right? Your best friend practically staring at your chest, your eyes on his cock, however it doesn’t. It feels natural. He positions himself between your legs once again, body lying flat on yours as he rests on his elbows so that he doesn’t crush you. Then, he latches his lips and tongue to one of your nipples, taking it into his warm and wet mouth - you let out a choked moan, kicking your head back as you entangle your fingers in his dark hair. With the fingers of his hand, he plays with your other nipple, lightly squeezing it between the pads of his thumb and index, as his teeth gently scrape the other one. 
All your life you thought Minho was an ass man and here he is - proving you wrong, sucking on your tits as if it’s his last meal. 
He spends a good five minutes there - licking, lapping, sucking on your nipples, before you gently tug at his hair, so he snaps his head up in your direction, and instantly knows what you want, what you need. He reads it in your eyes, in your swollen lips, in your flustered cheeks, in the way you open your legs a little wider. He simply nods, then smile sheepishly at you as he wraps his slender fingers around his length, finally aligning its tip to your entrance, coating it in your arousal. 
You can’t help but think of the dream you had earlier, and you also can’t help but certify that this feels a thousand times better. 
The choked sound that escapes his throat once he pushes the tip of his cock inside your walls is a blessing to your ears, and the way he closes his eyes shut and kicks his head back, mouth agape, is absolutely ethereal. He pushes the rest of his length inside of you slowly, careful not to hurt you - he won’t, you’re insanely wet, there’s no way he could hurt you. Plus, the stretch is insanely good, and you can’t help but notice that he feels perfect inside of you - he fills you up just right. 
Once he’s fully set inside of you, he takes a couple of seconds to look at you in search for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty, but then you cup his face in your palms and crash your lips onto his. He smiles into the kiss, and slowly starts to thrust inside of you, savoring the way your tight walls squeeze him each time he pushes back inside, deeper and deeper. He rocks his hips at a steady pace, back and forth, and latches his mouth to your neck, sucking and licking the flesh as he grabs one boob in his palm; he won’t stop touching you - hands all over your body, on your boobs, on your hips, on your thighs, then he rests them by each side of your face as he caresses your cheeks with his thumbs, still thrusting inside of you at a steady rhythm. 
Minho makes love to you. It’s not sex, it can’t be - it’s too intimate and heartfelt to be just casual sex.
He makes love to you tight there, on his couch in the middle of his poorly lighted living room, where the only thing that can be heard apart from the heavy rain are the sounds of your moans and whimpers, your heavy breaths as well as the squelching sound that accompanies Minho’s thrusts. He makes love to you just like you make love to him - intensely, clutching his shoulders as you come, unexpectedly and with a shaky whimper of his name.
“Minho…”, you pant, kicking your head back and shutting your eyes closed as your toes curl while you release around him, squeezing his length incredibly tight. So tight it only takes him a couple more thrusts to find his own release, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his semen on your stomach with a deep grunt, before collapsing on top of you, resting his head on your breasts as you both try to catch your regular breathings. 
You lie there for a while, your fingers entangled in Minho’s hair as he occasionally places soft kisses on the skin of your collarbone and breasts. Neither of you speaks, words are unnecessary right now - besides, you spoke a lot minutes before, just not using words. You let your hearts talk, communicate your feelings, beating fast in your chests.
Then, all of a sudden, the power is back on - and you can’t help but think the blackout might’ve been some twist of fate to help you realize that maybe all you wanted all along was right by your side, in the form of brown boba eyes and a cat-like smile.
☔︎
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eiightysixbaby · 5 months
Text
santa baby
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eddie munson x fem!reader
2.3k
summary: watching eddie play santa for your kids makes you want to show him some…. appreciation
cw: 18+ ONLY. reader and eddie are married & have kids, oral (m receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, breeding kink
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Presents in crinkly patterned paper are placed delicately under the tree, your nimble fingers making sure each bow is perfect and every tag that reads ‘From: Santa’ is visible.
Eddie tip-toes into the living room from your bedroom, the final stack of gifts in his arms. Your two daughters sleep soundly in their beds, likely dreaming of those sugarplums the stories talk about. He hands you each present one by one, letting you find the perfect place for them around the base of your glittering tree. The tiny colored lightbulbs cast a pretty pink glow throughout the room, and it fills your heart with warmth.
When you’ve finished your work, you turn to see Eddie filling the stockings, the ball of his Santa hat bobbing with each movement. He hangs each one back on the mantle with so much care, he wouldn’t want to drop one and send one of your little ones running to see what caused the noise. A fire crackles in the fireplace, fending off the cold of the snowy landscape outside.
“Is that everything?” he double checks, giving you a sweet grin.
“Not quite. Santa has to eat his cookies,” you tease, moving closer to him and tugging on his hat as you press a kiss to his lips.
“Damn, how could I forget these delicious cookies?” he asks, kissing you on your cheek and squeezing a healthy handful of your ass before moving towards the small table that holds a plate of sugar cookies. You giggle, still blushing like you did the day you met him.
You can’t help but smile when you turn to look at the baked treats, each one having been eagerly frosted by tiny hands. The girls had done their very best, and you know your husband certainly won’t complain about a little too much icing dripping down the sides. A glass of milk rests beside the plate, and Eddie takes a hearty sip of it after polishing off his first cookie.
It makes your heart swell, the way he breaks off one little bit of the second cookie to leave on the plate. A tiny splash of milk rests in the bottom of the cup. To make it look as though Santa couldn’t quite finish it all. This is the first year your girls are both old enough to really enjoy and get excited about the holiday, and it makes you so happy to witness it through their eyes.
Having a partner that plays along perfectly only makes it sweeter. Honestly, Eddie has probably been more into it than you, making everything so fun for your children. He stops at nothing to make them happy, to make things magical for them. He makes things magical for you, too, and it fills you with an impossible amount of joy.
To your surprise, it also fills you with need. A deep, hot desire for the man you’ve made a home with. It’s insatiable, the way it hits you like a train. Something about watching him play up this whimsical figure for the sake of your kids, something about him in that damn Santa hat. Before you realize it, he catches you staring as he sits back in the comfy chair, his eyes meeting yours and his face breaking into a cheeky smile. You might as well be drooling.
“What’re you looking at, Mrs. Claus?” he asks, stretching his arms behind his head, his pajama-clad legs spreading wide.
“I just think…” you start, stalking closer to him, eyes trained on his. “That Santa works so hard…” you murmur, sinking onto your knees between his legs. “Maybe he deserves to be properly thanked.”
“Oh—” Eddie gasps when your hand palms over his clothed cock, feeling it stiffen against your touch.
Wasting not even a second you tug his pants down, his hips raising to help you, and you feel your eyes blow wider at the sight of him. You’ll never get tired of seeing his cock — never. The way it leaks for you, the way he gets so hard from the simplest things that you do. You open your mouth, letting the weight of him rest heavy on your tongue. Licking the tip gently, you run your fingers up and down one of his legs.
“Baby,” he sighs, tipping his head back a bit. “What got into you?”
“Jus’ something about watchin’ you play Santa…” you say, kissing the tip of his cock. “You’re so good to us. To me. Wanna worship you for it,” you say softly, blinking up at him.
And God, how could he turn you down?
“The girls, what if they—?”
“Just be quiet, and they won’t,” you say like it’s simple, and he doesn’t have a moment to respond before you’re kissing your way down his shaft.
He’s struck dumb when you take the head into your mouth, suckling on it with pretty lips. One hand reaches up to grip the base of him, your tongue licking his slit. A heavy breath leaves his nose, his lips pressed in a thin line. His fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand gripping the armrest of the chair so tight it could rip.
You glance up at him, licking a long and slow stripe up the underside of his length. His eyes are half-lidded and dazed as he stares down at you, watching in disbelief. You stop teasing, then, taking him as far into your mouth as he’ll go. Your nose brushes the patch of coarse hair that sits at his base, exhaling through your nose as you adjust to the way he presses against the back of your throat.
“Oh fuck,” he whispers when you start to bob your head, trying your very best to keep the wet, slurping sounds to a minimum.
The hand that was gripping his shaft moves down to his balls, squeezing softly as you hollow your cheeks around him. You can hear the way he struggles to quiet the groans that claw their way up his throat, his breathing ragged. His hands reach up, yanking the Santa hat off so his fingers can run through his hair, tangling themselves in it.
“Christ, baby, thatfeelssogood,” he rushes out, voice breathy. “Your mouth is fuckin’ perfect.”
You pull off of him, still rolling the flesh of his heavy balls between your fingers. You make out with the head of his cock, tongue running over it, saliva dripping everywhere. He takes a handful of your hair, pulling gently to make you look up at him.
“Get up here. Right now,” he says. You know he’s trying to be demanding, but he sounds so fucked out it doesn’t quite work. It makes you want him even more.
Following instruction, you climb onto his lap and straddle it, but not before slipping off your pajama pants. With just your underwear separating his cock from your heat, you grind your hips down on him, sucking in a sharp breath when his tip nudges your clit. His strong hands guide your movements, taking control as he peppers kisses on your jawline, making you tilt your head back in pleasure.
“Need you inside me, Ed, please,” you croon, your breaths staggered.
“I don’t know, have you been a good girl this year? Do you deserve it?” he taunts, raising his brows at you. His teasing holds no weight, he has every intention of giving it to you, but you still nod.
“Been so good,” you say softly, teeth tugging at his earlobe.
A strangled, breathy sound leaves him before he’s shoving your panties to the side, running a thick finger through your wet folds. Wet is an understatement, honestly. You’re soaked for him, and he’s barely done anything to you.
“God damn, honey,” he growls low in your ear. “You’re so wet.” His teeth nip at your jaw before moving to your neck, his lips planting themselves on the delicate skin and sucking. “Watching me play Santa really got you that hot, huh?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and if you weren’t so needy for him you’d roll your eyes. But unfortunately, he’s right.
You whine instead, a featherlight sound that he almost misses through the crackling of the fire. He grips his cock, lining himself up with you as you hover above his lap. You reach down to help him, guiding him into your aching heat as you slowly sink down. You gasp in unison when he parts your walls, each of your mouths hanging open until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Calloused fingers press into your doughy hips, beginning to bounce you on his thick cock. A high-pitched squeak escapes you when you feel him press deep inside, and he instantly covers your mouth with one big palm. He stills his movements.
“Remember when you told me to be quiet? Hm? Now you can’t control yourself?” he whispers hotly in your ear, his breath making your skin prickle.
His hand is removed from your mouth in favor of guiding the roll of your hips once more, keeping you bouncing steadily. You can hear the way his cock glides through your sticky folds, pushing in and pulling out and pushing back in again. His eyes are impossibly dark as they watch you, especially in the dim light, but you can see the lust and adoration burning behind them all the same. You swear you can feel him in every inch of your body as he pushes himself as deep as he can possibly go, making you drop your forehead against his and bite back a moan.
One of his hands pulls the hem of your shirt up in order to expose your breasts to him, his open palm giving the first one a squeeze before rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching. Your back straightens slightly, arching into his touch. He dips his head down, sucking on the nipple his fingers aren’t already toying with. He kisses the soft swells of flesh, nipping and sucking gently while you start to take some control, bouncing yourself on his cock.
“Fuck,” he mutters around a mouthful of your tits, his tongue flicking over the sensitive buds on each one.
He diverts his attention, moving away from your breasts and instead reaching a hand down down down to where your bodies connect. The pad of his thumb swipes over your clit, making a filthy, desperate huff leave your mouth. You’re getting so close, your body desperate for him to bring you to release.
“Eds,” you sigh, rolling your hips slowly on top of him, savoring every single second of this bliss.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks, bringing his free hand up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking along your cheekbone. He smiles at you, soft and sweet as he continues to circle your clit.
“So good,” you breathe, feeling the tension in the pit of your stomach grow and grow. “Want you to cum, baby, give it all to me.”
“Yeah? Want me to fill you up?” he taunts, leaning forward and catching your bottom lip between his teeth. “Get you pregnant again? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Everything in you screams yes. Your hormones are on overdrive, wanting him to pump you full of his seed and make it stick.
“Fuck, yes, Eddie,” you agree, throwing your head back.
He bucks his hips up, his cock stretching you so deliciously, reaching the deepest parts of you. His lips kiss any part of your skin they can reach as you completely fall apart for him. Your walls clench so tightly around him as you cum, drenching his cock in your arousal. Giving you a few final thrusts, his movements get less precise as he unravels. Soft grunts leave his mouth as he fucks you through his orgasm, ropes of cum painting your walls in spurts. You cling to him, panting as you recover from your high. Gentle hands rub your back, sliding up under your shirt and soothing you with repetitive motions.
“I love you,” you say softly, crossing your eyes to watch as he presses a kiss to your nose. One reaches your lips immediately after; a drawn-out, lingering kiss that you don’t want to ever end.
“I love you, too,” he says, millimeters away from your mouth after he pulls away. You feel it, almost overwhelmingly, in the way he holds you close.
You shift on his lap, letting him pull out of you carefully. Your thighs are sticky with your own arousal and his as it drips out of you, but you don’t want to leave his comforting embrace. The warmth from the fireplace kisses your skin, making you sleepy in Eddie’s arms. You take his left hand in your own, running your thumb over his wedding band, a pleased hum reverberating within you.
He turns, looking at the clock that rests on the mantle. Just after midnight.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.
“Merry Christmas, handsome,” you coo, reaching up to brush some of his hair out of his face.
“Can we make this a Christmas tradition?” he asks, giving you a cheeky smile as he pinches the fat of your ass.
“Whatever you want, Mr. C,” you laugh, leaning in to kiss him once more.
The night ends with the both of you creeping quietly down the hallway to your bedroom, tangling yourselves beneath warm blankets. Snow falls outside, you can see it through the gap in the curtains as sleep starts to take over your body. Blinking slowly, heavily, you feel Eddie’s strong arms wrap around you, pressing you close to his chest.
In the morning, your girls will wake you with unbridled excitement, ready to see what Santa brought them. But for now, it’s just you and the man himself, dreaming cozy winter dreams.
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bratkook · 8 months
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two point five. part three (m) jjk.
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part one. part two. pairing. handyman!jungkook x reader genre. smut, pwp, fluff!! word count. 5.9k warnings. they’re in luvvv its sick, jungkook still loves to tease, pussy job, finger sucking, its just sweet and dirty idk summary. jungkook finally fixes your pipes, sure he gets distracted while doing it, but what else could you expect when you’re sitting on top of him looking like that. note. thank u guys for loving them & for being patient for more! they make my heart happy so i had to continue writing for them. i hope u enjoy the filth and brief jimin interaction hehe
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“Isn’t it cute?” The excitement in your voice makes Jungkook smile as he stares at you, nose scrunched up in endearment when you pull out the shiny brass object from the box you had just ripped open. 
“Super cute, baby. What is it?” Jungkook honestly hadn’t seen it too well, but anything you liked was cute to him so he obviously agreed. He was currently leaning against your dining chair, hands resting along the back of it as he hunched over to examine the plastic wrapped thing. It’s not until you peel it back that he knows exactly what it is, giving you another smile when he looks up to meet your gaze. 
“A new faucet! I figured since you still need to fix my leaky pipes you could just…install this for me too?” Your voice is hopeful, almost as if you think there’s a chance he’d say no. 
“I’ve been trying to fix it for weeks and you keep telling me no.” His eyes are playfully narrowed at you. 
“I know, but that’s because this was back ordered. But it’s here now, so can you? Please.”
He sighs, looking away from you as he pretends to contemplate it, giggling when you whine and round the table to grip his shoulders. Even as you wrap your arms around him and beg, he continues to hum in thought, not caving until you’re leaning up and gingerly kissing his jaw and finally his lips. 
“Mm, you know just how to convince me huh?” he mumbles against your lips, feeling you smile as he kisses you back. 
“Kisses are your weakness?” You giggle when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. 
“No, just you.” His smile is cheeky as he admits this, giving you another squeeze before you’re pulling back with a cute laugh. 
Jungkook had taken it upon himself to just keep a tool box at your place, leaving it in your coat closet for emergencies. He had gone ahead and told you what every tool in there did, not like it meant anything to you, knowing you wouldn’t be reaching in there after how horrible your attempt at mounting your television had gone. 
This was Jungkook’s emergency tool box, not yours. So, after a quick trip to his truck parked down below, grabbing a few things he knew he’d need, he’s grabbing his toolbox out of your closet and getting right to work. You typically let him work on his own now, busying yourself with cleaning up your apartment, hanging up the newest photostrip you both took last night at your favorite bar and admiring it on the fridge with a smile. But once your to-do list runs out you can’t help it when your feet lead you to your bathroom, slowly pushing open the door as you lean on the frame and observe your boyfriend. 
He had managed to remove the old faucet, cleaning up the caulking and any weird water spots before replacing it with the cute brass swan faucet you had scored. He is crouched on his knees now, trying his best to fit under the small cabinet to properly screw everything in, cursing slightly under his breath when he lifts his head and bangs it on the wood. 
“I think you’re too big to fit under there babe,” you giggle, enjoying the pointed look he gives you as he straightens himself back out. “What if you try doing it from under?”
His brows pinch on his forehead as he looks at your floor, checking the spacing between the sink and the wall across from it, deeming it wide enough for him to lay on his back to get a better point of view. As long as he kept his knees slightly bent he could definitely fit, he’ll just have to keep his light on his chest to be able to see, unless, “Can you do me a favor, baby?”
Your face lights up at the question, nodding in confirmation instantly, already stepping into the bathroom for whatever he might need. 
“Hold the light for me? I need both my hands to finish this off.” You could definitely do that. That’s literally the only way you knew how to help. So without another thought you’re grabbing the flashlight for him and squatting beside his body, angling the light to where you think he might need it. 
Jungkook chuckles lightly under his breath when the beam of light hits the wrong spot, his large hand coming out to grip yours and angle it a little better, making you partially lean over him. 
“Jungkook, I can’t keep this position for too long,” you laugh out, your knees already burning from the weird angle. He peers out and laughs too, well attempting to before it slowly dies in his throat when you get the grand idea of swinging your leg over his body and straddling his hips. It’s clear your thoughts are pure as you smile at how much easier it is this way, but Jungkook was a weak weak man, and the pretty flowy dress you were wearing made it so he could feel you directly on top of him, only the thin fabric of your underwear and his sweats separating you two. 
“Better right?” you wonder, ever so softly putting more pressure on him as you settle, your free hand gently resting on his stomach, thumb mindlessly rubbing along the thin sliver of skin exposed as his shirt rode up. When he simply stares at you, absolutely dazed, you tilt your head and give him a pout that makes him want to sit up and capture your lips in a kiss. Luckily, he snaps out of it, thankfully saving his poor forehead from receiving another awful slam against the cabinet. 
“Much better,” he forces out, letting his head fall back to resume his work. His eyes are focused on tightening the screws holding the new faucet in place, but then you’re adjusting your position and his eyes can’t help but look back down at you. He knows you’re not being intentional, but the pressure of you resting on his slowly hardening cock was going to be the death of him. Jungkook really didn’t have anyone to blame but himself, getting riled up so easily thanks to the horny lovesick cocktail he always had fogging up his brain around you. 
“Baby,” he groans out, squeezing his eyes shut as he leans back and lets his palm fall over his face. “You gotta stop moving.”
“I’m sorry. Am I not pointing the light where you need it?” Your brows are furrowed on your forehead, pure confusion clouding your features as Jungkook gives you another glance. He has a very familiar look on his face, a look reserved for when he was inches away from you before pouncing on you and turning you into an absolute mess. 
That’s when you notice it, the firmness pressed up against your core as you slowly settle back. Your eyes widen briefly, fighting back a sly smile from spreading onto your lips when you realize just how easily affected he is by you. 
Maybe it's cruel to relish in it, the mischief already brewing in your mind as you give an experimental roll of your hips. Jungkook groans instantly, brows pinching on his forehead as he glances down at where you connect, words dying on his tongue when you roll forward again before he has a chance to utter anything out. 
“Focus on what you’re doing,” you murmur, head tilted slightly as you smile down at him. Jungkook refuses to look away, his brain fighting him on what to do. He knew he could easily turn this around, scoop you up and fuck you right on this bathroom floor. But why was this so hot to him?
All of his thoughts turn into mush when you reach forward, fingers cupping his cheeks as you forcefully turn his head to look at the faucet again. His cock twitches beneath you as you speak once more. “Focus, baby.”
Oh yeah, he’s whipped. 
You hum in content when he does just that, hands a little shaky as he resumes his work and attempts to act unaffected. The act only works for a brief moment, his hands faltering when he feels you shift around, your fingers dipping into the waistband of his sweats before you tug them down. Jungkook’s breath shudders as he shuts his eyes and just waits, knowing he couldn’t look down at you because the temptation would be too much. 
A small gasp hits the air when you see he’s bare underneath his sweats, his cock already hard and leaking. Jungkook hisses when your hand wraps around him, giving him a gentle tug and swiping your thumb along the tip. He only caves and looks down again when he feels the way you press his length against his stomach, curiosity getting the best of him, allowing him the sight of you tugging your panties to the side before you’re settling back onto him. 
“Fuck,” he groans out, seeing your pussy lips spread around him as you rock along his length, tip of his cock nudging against your clit perfectly. The view only lasts a minute before you’re letting your dress float back down around you, the playful look in your eyes telling him he needed to focus on his job. 
Jungkook knows he’s good at his job, and he’s proud of it, knowing he always does his best to do everything perfectly. But he usually doesn’t have the prettiest girl he’s ever known on top of him, hell bent on making him cum as he works. So he admits he might not be doing the absolute best job he can, going through the steps as fast as possible, trying his best to focus on something other than how fucking amazing he feels. 
Your hand trembles a bit as you continue to hold the light for him, small little moans of pleasure filling up the room as you continue to roll your hips, your other hand resting firmly on his chest to hold you steady. 
“I can feel you making a mess,” you giggle, knowing there would be a puddle of precum on his tummy, smearing along your folds with each rock forward.  
Jungkook just grunts in response, jaw clenched tightly as he finishes up tightening the last screw. With one final check, he’s smiling underneath the sink, allowing his tools to clang beside him as he grips your hips with both palms, enjoying the way you gasp in surprise. 
“My turn,” he breathes out, tongue prodding along his cheek as he effortlessly shimmies out of his position. Your eyes are wide as you take in the look on his face, feeling your chest fluttering in excitement as he easily sits up, scooping an arm around you as he stands up straight. 
“That was fast,” you breathe out, the slight tingling of nerves crawling up your spine, knowing Jungkook didn’t love being teased like that—not without knowing he’d get a chance to pounce back at least. 
“I had some helpful motivation,” he mumbles, turning you around and settling behind you. His nose nudges along your head as he bends forward, soft breath felt against your ear as his hands slide up your thighs beneath your dress. Your skin tingles as his fingers dance along the edge of your wet panties, teasingly tugging at them as he presses his hardened length against your ass. 
“Jungkook, we’re meeting up with your friends in a little bit,” you breathe out, voice trembling slightly as your hands fumble against the sink. 
“I know, but you started it.” He smiles now, his eyes looking forward to meet your gaze in the mirror above your sink, brow cocked up. “Do you want me to finish it?”
He can see the way your face is lit up, lower lip held captive by your teeth as you gently bite down, eyes already glossed over as you mindlessly nod. Of course you want him to finish what you started. 
“I need words, pretty girl,” he murmurs, both palms continuing to glide along your skin, enjoying the slight tremble he feels, how your body reacts to him instantly. His smile is teasing, lip curling up as he breathes out a laugh when you can only shudder as you try to get your brain to cooperate. 
“Please. I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is low, raspy around each syllable, already on your way to being ruined before he has a chance to do anything. Perfect. 
“Oh, I get a please? So polite,” he jests, peppering a kiss to your temple as his hands finally hook into your underwear and yank them down. When they pool around your feet you kick them out of the way, instinctually spreading your legs and pressing your ass further into him. Jungkook hums in content, his gaze falling down as he flips up the bottom of your dress, seeing the soft skin of your ass pressing against his length. 
He guides his length between your thighs once more, resting perfectly against your sodden folds as he shallowly ruts forward. You moan softly as the tip of his cock nudges your clit, aching for his touch. 
“I’ll always do whatever you want.” You know this is a promise from him, having experienced how true to his word he is during the last few months. All you can do is grip onto the counter to prepare yourself when you feel him start to move back. Your gaze is locked onto his reflection, seeing the way he bites onto his lip when he grabs your ass, gripping onto the flesh for his own satisfaction before delivering a swift slap, smiling at the small mewl you release. 
You watch with bated breath as he grips the base of his cock, feeling the tip of it pressing into your soaked entrance, teasingly circling around it just to see the way your walls beg for him. He loved it too much, thoughts getting hazier with each small moan that escapes you. The bulbous head of his cock slowly inches forward, your pussy tightening around his tip and making him moan under his breath before pulling out entirely. It was the same motion he loved to do, teasing himself and getting a kick out of the delayed pleasure. 
“Jungkook,” you whine out, giving him a pout when he looks up at your reflection. He mumbles out an apology that he clearly doesn’t mean judging by the smile on his face, but the way he finally sinks into you makes up for it. The satisfying stretch that follows is something that will never get old, and the small gasp he lets out when he bottoms out lets you know he feels the same. 
Jungkook can only shut his eyes as he lets the feeling wash over him, his palms gripping your hips tightly when he feels your walls pulse around his length. He could live and die buried inside of you, always wanting to hear the soft moans of his name and the small whimper you release when he pulls his hips back and thrusts forward. 
“Fuck, baby,” he groans out, eyes fluttering open to stare at the way your arousal coats his cock, shiny essence glimmering in the bathroom light. His mouth drops open in awe, stomach tensing up at the sight, hands gripping you harder when he sees the way you arch your back for more. 
“You were fucking made for me.”
His words make your body warm up, spoken so sweetly in such a lewd context, only intensifying when he speeds up the thrust of his hips, bending forward to kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder. 
“Tell me,” he breathes out, slight begging dripping from his tone, always so desperate to hear how much you wanted him. His hand comes up to grip your face, fingers cupping your jaw to turn you to look at him. The look on his face makes more arousal gush out of you, seeing the pinch between his brows, eyes swimming with desire as they float between your eyes and your lips. 
“I was—fuck—“ you keen at a particular thrust, eyes rolling back momentarily. “I was made for you. Only you.”
“Mm, good girl,” he sighs, connecting your lips in a messy kiss. You moan against his lips when he snaps his hips forward, just hard enough to have you seeing stars behind your closed lids. His fingers rub your cheeks, gently coaxing your mouth open as he flicks his tongue along the seam of your lips, groaning in approval when you allow him entrance. 
Your arm reaches back to grip his face, needing to touch him, to let your fingers slip into his hair and yank as your tongues flick against each other. Jungkook groans unabashedly when you gently suck his tongue, heavy eyes opening up to stare at you when you pull away briefly. 
“We gotta be quick.” It’s spoken mainly to himself, a reminder that he couldn’t take his sweet time with you today, knowing there was a ticking clock telling you both to hurry up. He’s tempted to say fuck it, to blow off the plans with his friends and ravish you the way he always wanted to. But he knows how much you were looking forward to it so he sucks it up, deciding he’ll just have to make up for it tonight.
“Yeah, quick. Quick is fine,” you shudder, eyes focused on the way his lips shine, slightly swollen from your kissing. His tongue swipes at his piercing as he smiles when he notices your dazed stare, giving you another kiss to satisfy you before turning your head back to stare at your reflection once more. 
“Don’t worry baby. I’ll still take care of you.” His head presses against yours, staring directly into the mirror. “Want you to be good and watch yourself for me though. Can you do that?”
His hips have yet to slow their rhythm, the wet smack of your skin connecting still filling up the bathroom. It makes you feel dizzy, too transfixed on it and the way he just looks at you. His smile is as sweet as can be, his fingers coming to your lips, humming in content when you open your mouth to allow them in, coating them in your spit just the way he liked it before pulling them out. 
“Yeah, I can do that.” He mumbles out more praise against your head, whispering it into your ear, each raspy syllable turning you into a puddle against him. Your eyes are glued to your reflection, seeing the way he kisses down the side of your neck, sucking on your skin until he’s satisfied with the mark he leaves. His trail isn’t complete until he’s yanking down the top of your dress, watching in fascination as your tits spilled out. A choked moan fills the air when he pinches a sensitive bud, spit covered fingers rolling along it, smiling when you jut your chest out further for more. 
“You said quick, Jungkook,” you pant out, having an internal battle just like he was. It was easy for him to get side tracked though, enjoying the teasing, taking it slow until you were crying for it, bringing you right to the edge just for you to stay there until he thought it was time. You can see his mind floating now as he grabs your boob, admiring the way it fills up his palm, his hips slowing down ever so slightly to really enjoy the way you clench around him with each yank of your nipple. 
“Sorry baby.” He’s back now, eyes sharpening up as he looks at you again. You can see something brewing in his mind and it fills you with the tingle of nerves, not knowing what he could be thinking. “I’ll be quick.”
Before you have time to think, his hand slides down to scoop around your thigh, hauling up one of your legs, fucking you deeper and laughing when you squeal at the feeling. Your mouth is dropped open as you try to take it all in, hands gripping the counter until your knuckles pale, the curve of his cock hitting just right inside of you. 
“Oh fuck, feels so good—you always feel so good.” Your mindless babbles have pride filling his chest, seeing the debauched look on your face reflected back on the mirror. Everything feels hot, the thick air clinging to your skin, leaving you gasping out as he fucks you harder. It has you desperate, leaning back against him, one hand reaching behind you to hold him close despite the position. 
“Yeah? You like the way my cock fills you up, pretty girl?” Jungkook huffs out a breath when you tighten around him in response, his arm situating your thigh until your knee catches on the counter. “Keep that there for me baby.”
You can only nod in response, doing your best to do as he asks despite the rocking of his hips. His hand settles onto the countertop on top of yours, interlocking your fingers together as he speeds up. A mewl reaches his ears when his free palm slides up your supported thigh, under your little dress and meets your clit, soaked in your arousal as he rubs tight circles into it. 
“Oh fuck, just like that,” you gasp out, your hand clinging onto his bicep, digging tiny half moons into his skin. The muscle in your thigh is starting to ache from the position but the overwhelming pleasure you feel is enough for you to ebb it away. 
You can feel the way his arm flexes as he rubs deft circles onto your swollen clit, his harsh breathing hitting your hair, and when you meet his gaze in the mirror it makes your stomach flip. 
“You’re so wet,” he groans out, his fingers glide with ease, applying more pressure so they don’t slip around, sending sparks up your spine. “Always so messy for me. Do you really like me that much?” He teases you, trying to act calm and unaffected but you can see the clenching in his jaw, can feel the way his hips stutter slightly as his orgasm creeps up on him. 
Jungkook moans out your name when your walls tighten around him, body desperately trying to keep him in as your own high approaches. “I can’t help it, you know I love you.” You sigh it out so beautifully it makes his heart skip a beat. You had both said it before but Jungkook would never get tired of hearing it, would never get tired of saying it back to you, not ashamed to admit that a simple four letter word was enough to nearly send him over the edge. 
“I love you more,” he groans out, snapping his hips fluidly, feeling the way you start to tense in his hold as all of it begins to overwhelm you. His eyes are locked onto you, the way your chest hiccups as you gasp out in pleasure, the purple splotch on your neck that he was so proud of, your kiss swollen lips dropped open perfectly, eyes glossed over in ecstasy. You were close, the grip you have on his arm tightening, digging into the dark ink on his skin. 
“I gotta feel you cum baby,” he begs, not wanting to cum before you did, already feeling it too close to hold it off any further. His cock throbs inside of you, each torturous glide of his hips making his eyes fall shut, finger continuing to flick along your clit. You’re nodding against him, head falling back, moans getting breathier until your orgasm finally washes over you. 
“Fuck fuck, oh my god,” you whine out, brows pinching together as you squeeze your eyes shut, bright white flashes behind your lids as the feeling spreads through your limbs. Jungkook groans as he fucks you through it, your walls milking his cock, feeling you gush around his length until it trickles down your legs. 
It’s an absolute mess between your thighs and Jungkook just wants to add to it. His hand finally retreats from your clit when you start to whimper at the overstimulation, his lips peppering kisses onto your shoulder as he lowers your thigh, being as gentle as he could be while pushing you forward. You’re pliant in his grasp, allowing him to bend you over, supporting yourself on the sink while he repositions you enough to be comfortable. 
“C’mon Kookie, want you to make me messier,” you coo out, voice sounding dreamy as the afterglow hits you. He can see the soft smile on your lips as you turn your head to look back at him, fully enjoying the sight of your boyfriend falling apart. 
“Don’t worry baby, I will.” Both hands grip your hips now, his hips snapping forward with enough force to turn your mind into mush. His eyes fall on the way your ass bounces with each thrust, the smack of your skin sounding like music to his ears. He curses under his breath as the familiar feeling starts to spread, hips losing their grace as he gets desperate, surging forward to get as deep as he could before he finally cums too. A guttural moan of your name fills the room as he shoots into you, painting your walls and making you hum in content at the warmth. 
Jungkook fucks into you a few more times, savoring the feeling as he comes down from the high, bending forward to kiss and soothe your skin. His hands glide up your body, gentle touches making goosebumps flare up on your arms. A smile spreads on your face when he interlocks your fingers, gently tugging you back up and wrapping his arms around you. 
He looks like a giddy child in the reflection, face smushed against your head, eyes shut with the biggest smile on his lips. You take this moment in just like you do every other moment with him, shutting your eyes and smiling as you let him hold you, storing the memory in your mind in a space made just for him. 
Jungkook gives your temple another kiss before slowly pulling out of you, the two of you groaning at the feeling. You wince when you feel the globs of cum already leaking out of you, but before you can move he’s already reaching to the side, grabbing a handful of toilet paper to clean up the mess he made before letting your dress fall back down. 
You spin around now, finally seeing him face to face, wrapping your arms around his neck, the sweetest smile on your lips. His hands smooth down the fabric of your dress, fingers fiddling with the material. 
“This dress is really pretty by the way. Makes you look like an angel.” He makes it easy to swoon over him, your heart warming in your chest as you take in his casual compliment. 
“Thank you baby.” You pucker your lips as you lean up and he wastes no time kissing you back.
“I ruined your lip gloss,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, pulling back to stare at your bare lips, no longer shiny with your favorite coconut scented gloss. The pink gloss was long gone, no evidence left on his own lips either. 
“Yeah, you always do.” You give him another kiss before looking at yourself in the mirror and groaning while your fingers attempt to fix your mess of hair. “Jungkook, we’re supposed to meet your friends in half an hour.”
Jungkook laughs as his hand comes up to gently prod at the small hickey he had mindlessly sucked into your neck. It was a teenage habit he would be taking to his grave. “Oh shit, well you better cover that up or they’re gonna make it the topic of conversation for the night.”
You glare at him through the mirror. This would be the first time you’d be meeting his friends, and if they were really the way he described them to be then you know that Taehyung and Jimin would definitely point your hickey out. The tingle of anxiety starts pooling in your stomach as you make a move to exit the bathroom, needing to fix yourself up as quickly as possible. As you walk you realize you’re still naked from the waist down, only the thin fabric of your dress keeping you decent. 
“Oh god. I need my underwear too, I can’t embarrass myself with a hickey and going commando.”
Jungkook beats you to it, bending over to pick up your ruined panties off the floor, looking cocky as he lets them dangle off his finger like a prize. “These are mine.” 
Your cheeks burn as you watch with wide eyes, seeing him bring the material close to his face before he’s tucking them into the pocket of his pants. He looks so proud as he pats them, acting like it was nothing as he turns around to open the bathroom door. It’s not like he gets far though, your hand grabbing his arm and yanking him back with a force he had never experienced.
“Jungkook, you freak! You can’t take those with you.” His eyes are huge as he stares at you, slightly impressed at your determined strength and entirely amused at how scandalized you look.
“Says who?” he guffaws, keeping you at arms length when you try to reach for them. 
“Says me! I’ll tell your friends you’re a panty thief.”
“Please,” he laughs, loud. “They already know! Already roasted me about it a few weeks back.”
“Wait, is this something you do?”
His face falls briefly, realizing he had just confessed to stealing your underwear. “What?”
That makes you laugh now, no longer trying to reach for your panties, letting your head come to rest against his chest as you giggle. This all made sense now, the realization that a few pairs of your underwear had mysteriously gone missing. You had blamed it on your washing machine eating them, had even asked Jungkook to check it or call someone to repair it before the entirety of your underwear drawer went missing. 
Of course it was him.  
“You’re so dirty!”
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Jungkook reassures you that you look great for the millionth time in the span of twenty minutes, a smile still on his face as you ask him, “Are you sure?”
“Yes baby. Your lipgloss looks perfect and you can’t even tell that I went to town on your neck.” He laughs when you gently swat his stomach, holding the door open for you as you step into the brewery. Jungkook had said it was his group's favorite place to hang out in, a huge space with games and activities for everyone to enjoy, a wide selection of beers and even a few cocktails that he knew you would prefer. He leads the way with his hand in yours, knowing exactly where they would be. 
When you approach a corner near the dart wall you spot a group of boys, all standing up with dorky smiles on their faces as they clap obnoxiously loud. 
“Oh my god, what are you guys doing?” Jungkook questions, laughing as he gets closer. None of them pay him any attention though, looking right at you as they continue to clap. 
“Wow,” a boy with pale blonde hair sighs out, being the first to stop clapping as the rest slowly follow suit. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet the woman who has turned Jungkookie into an absolute fucking simp.”
That makes you laugh now, hand covering up your mouth as you see them all nod along. Jungkook doesn’t even respond, tonguing his cheek as he tries to hide his smile when he steps away from you to allow you to have your moment.
“Really, it’s honest work but I’m happy to do it. You must be Jimin?”
He gasps, smile growing wider on his face as he looks at Jungkook, finally acknowledging him. “Do you talk about me?”
“Yeah, about how fucking annoying you are,” Jungkook scoffs, playfully rolling his eyes as he takes a seat at the edge of the bench, scooting down enough for you to settle in next to him. 
Your earlier nerves calm a bit as everyone starts to talk, introducing themselves before it flows into easy conversation. Once the drinks start making their rounds you find yourself joining in, laughing along to old stories they reminisce on, playfully teasing one another in a brotherly way that shows you how deep their friendship actually was. 
“Oh no, we need to tell you about that time Jungkook got so high off a pot brownie that he cried at ColorMeMine.” Taehyung can barely say the sentence before he’s cackling as he recalls it, smile wide as can be while he throws his head back. 
“No you absolutely fucking don’t!”
“C’mon, we basically already told her! She just needs all the juicy details.” Yoongi adds on to it, a smug smile on his face as he holds up his beer to take a long sip. 
“What, the juicy details of them threatening to kick me out?” Jungkook groans, covering his face in embarrassment. It wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t properly read the strength of it and before he knew it he was staring at his half painted plate wondering how the hell he got so high and why the fuck everyone else was so calm about it. 
“Well…that, and the video I took of it all,” Jimin whispers out, biting down on his lip as he starts to unlock his phone and scroll through his photo gallery. 
That makes Jungkook’s head snap up, wide eyes giving Jimin a look that you know was meant to be threatening but the other boy finds it funny, giggling as he turns to look at you. 
“I’ll send it to you later. Keep it for emergencies.”
Jungkook’s mouth drops open in betrayal, eyes floating over to you and seeing the way you smile and nod. “Emergencies?”
“Jungkook, don’t worry about it!” You cackle as you gently cup his cheek, feeling it bulge out as he smiles back, enjoying the way you were getting along with his friends—even if it was at his expense. He didn’t care really, he’d dish out all of his embarrassing stories if it made you laugh as hard as it did today. 
“Am I gonna regret introducing you to each other?” he mumbles out, playfully glaring at his friend. 
You look over at Jimin too, the same thoughts brewing in your minds as you laugh together. You could only imagine all the ways you and him would gang up on your boyfriend, pushing his buttons in that way he swore he didn’t like while secretly enjoying it. 
“Oh, definitely.”
Jungkook can only groan, trying so hard to pretend like this was detrimental, as if the idea of two of his favorite people getting along was the end of the world. But as he stares at you giggling while you watch that god forsaken video, his heart swells, thankful Jimin had given him the pep talk he needed to confess and even more grateful you had decided to hire him off the sketchiest app ever made.
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thatsdemko · 7 months
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junipers dad- g.russell
pairings: George Russell x albon!fem!reader
fc: lyssieloooloo (from ig and TikTok)
requested: y - “What about something to do with all the pets the Albion’s have?? I think it would be super cute if George was trying to soft launch the relationship but because he’s such good friends with Alex people just assume that he’s hanging with the Albon family. And then it just culminates into either Albon!reader (or maybe Alex😂) just getting tried of George’s moping that his long planned out soft launch isn’t going to plan so they just decide to hard launch.”
a/n: a little something to lighten to mood xx— ps happy non-red bull podium!!
f1updates
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liked by albon_pets, gr63updates, lilyandalexlover, & 6,794 others.
f1updates: it seems like George is hanging out with the Albon’s this weekend after Silverstone! he posted this cute picture of an albon cat ☺️
400 comments
f1lover22: I love that George and Alex hang out!
charleslechair: Alex and George two besties that can’t be separated
alblondo: is that y/n?! that’s so cute that George is friends with all of his sisters
princessgeorge: I’m also p sure that’s y/n’s cat juniper!
he sits cross legged in the chair, juniper sound asleep in his lap while he scrolls through Instagram for inspiration of his next launch. the last one was an ultimate fail considering half of formula one fans believed he was just hanging out with Alex. didn’t they know juniper was your cat?
“what’s got you so consumed online?” you peer over his shoulder, he’s searched high and low on the instagram tag ‘#softlaunch’ and it makes you giggle that he’s warped into introducing you properly to his instagram.
“why don’t you just post a picture of me and juniper? that way it looks more like you’re hanging out with me than with Alex.” you take the sleeping cat out of his lap, an alarmed grunt comes from her lips as you hold her in your arms for a picture.
“that outta do it right? Alex is nowhere to be seen.”
georgerussell63
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liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, y/nalbon, & 77,931 others.
georgerussell63: spent some well needed time off
509 comments
albon_pets: 🐱❤️
maxverclerc: omg did George spend the weekend with the Albons?!
lewrussell: obsessed over that he and the albon siblings are friends
mercedesgeorge: everyday George proves more and more that he and Alex are still besties
“I don’t get it, why does everyone think we are friends?”
“well to be fair you did post a picture from junipers birthday party and everyone remembers that day.” you say it in a matter of fact tone that makes him groan as he scrolls through the comments.
albonlover: george was adopted by the albon family and I think that’s so cute
britcedes63: does he regularly hang out with them? I wouldn’t be surprised! he and Alex are really close
he shuts off his phone and watches you play with juniper. the fish on the stick being her worst enemy as she attempts to tackle it down in the air when a brilliant idea comes to his mind.
“why don’t you post me? that way everyone will be suspicious on who you’re dating!”
you roll your eyes playfully at his comment, but when you look over at him he’s handing you your phone to take a picture of him and juniper.
“if this will make you happy, then why not?”
f1gossiplover
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liked by russbuss63, checorbr, yukisuzuka, & 7,250 others.
f1gossiplover: photo submitted by anonymous! y/n albon seems to have a new man who looks awfully similar to George?? what’s everyone’s thoughts!
300 comments
hamilton44: that’s not George that’s some imposter
gaslycharles: too short to be George
gr63babes: I know George and that’s not him
“what do they mean that’s not me?! that’s so clearly me in the picture.” he huffs in annoyance, phone balanced against his water bottle as he eats breakfast. the recent topic of your posts for each other is all he seems to be able to talk about, and you’d had enough. you’d really thought that semi hard launch would’ve been enough to make fans suspicious, but nobody budged.
you curse Alex for being such close friends to George, that way it was ten times harder for you to actually post the relationship like normal couples.
“why does it matter so much to you again?” you sit beside him, reaching over you take his phone and toss it into the empty chair beside you. he’d spent enough time on the device than paying attention to you.
“I just want to do it right. I don’t want to hard launch you and you realize it was too soon.”
you smile at his concerns and reach to grab his hand, “you’re too cute, Georgie, but truthfully I don’t care how you post me, but it seems to be upsetting you very much, so I have an idea.”
y/nalbon
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liked by albon_pets, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1, & 6,530 others.
y/nalbon: juniper enjoyed some sun with her dad @ Georgerussell63
300 comments
albon_pets: uncle George has been promoted!
georgerussell63: daddy loves you juni!
roscoelovescoco: playdate soon?
mercedesamgf1: petition for juniper to join us in the paddock?
williamsracing: not on our watch!
lewishamilton: where do I sign up to get me and Roscoe matching sweaters?
alexalbon: don’t hold your breath she’s still making George and me our matching jumpers
tags: (sorry to lazy to tag everyone just gonna tag a few) @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @oconso @motorsp0rt
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levmada · 1 month
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- Levi literally sleeps like the dead. if he wasn’t sleeping sitting up all of the time, you’d have a right to be concerned because even the slight indicators like his shoulders rising and falling are pretty damn slight.
- he barely dreams, but when he does he has nightmares (and be careful: he fights in his sleep).
- can and honestly will snap awake if a pin drops down the hall, but also for seemingly no reason at all, robbing Levi of rest at random.
- Levi finds it hard to sleep yes, but it’s pretty much impossible to fall asleep on his back or stomach. a subconscious urgency to protect his vital areas.
- no, if Levi is sleeping properly (sleeping, not just resting), he’s curled up on his side with his arm awkwardly resting covering his neck.
- if you share a bed, he chooses the side closest to the door, just in case (he can’t be convinced there’s a 0% chance of someone showing up to assassinate one of you during the night).
- if you roll out of bed having woken up before Levi, you’re still dreaming.
- simply didn’t own any clothes worthy of sleeping in before he met you. he would just sit down in his chair in his day clothes, cross his arms, and close his eyes.
- because he’s an ackerman and therefore part titan, he runs sooo warm, like a furnace. like a bear if he wasn’t so small lol.
- so if you try to tease him by warming your icy feet on his shins, it’s very effective, and Levi’s pride won’t let him react.
- sleeps with a switchblade under his pillow, and/or in his front pocket. when he lived in the underground, he always kept one in his sleeve. old habits die hard
- he can ironically fall asleep anywhere if he’s that low on energy. it’s honestly better if he’s among others because the odds pose less danger.
- no socks to bed ever. if you wear socks to bed you’re taking them off. (he has sensory issues)
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