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#he left feeling much more comfortable in moving forward

borbygorlinbbqworld · 2 days

Note

I loved the boss story. Would be cool to expand a part 2 with the reader and Nolan 👀

Please find Part 1 on my page!

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Thanks, Boss! 2

The wedding reception had been wonderful. Kate's coworker had written an amazing, romantic speech about his bride to be that had admittedly brought her to tears. She blamed the hormones from recently having her quadruplets, but a part of her suspected it was a bit more than that.

Her boyfriend, Chris, had abandoned her at the dinner table to keep doing shots at the bar. Not that unusual from every night he was home with her, honestly.

"Mind if I take a seat?"

Kate looked up to see her attractive boss, Nolan. His broad shoulders filled out his suit nicely, but it was his warm smile that did it for her. She moved her purse from the chair next to her. "Not at all, please."

"I don't mean to sound inappropriate at all, being your boss and all. But you look absolutely stunning tonight, Kate."

Her cheeks heated.

She didn't have the heart to tell him what a nightmare it was trying to find a dress to contain her massive breasts; breastfeeding quadruplets had left her popping out of an M Cup on a good day, and the dress she wore tonight was barely hanging on. Even the nursing bra she wore underneath creaked, as if threatening to tear.

Worst off, she had pumped not long before getting to the wedding, but her breasts felt fuller by the minute.

Yet she never felt embarrassed about any of that when she was with him. Nolan had a calming and understanding presence about him that was genuine and made her feel safe.

The way a man ought to make his woman feel.

"Chris is a very lucky man." The comment sent a heat through Kate, and her breasts throbbed with fullness. Nolan tilted his head to the side. "Where is he, anyway?"

"At the bar, getting shots." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He doesn't seem to think he's so lucky. Tied down to a woman with four children, after all."

"His children."

Kate shrugged. "He doesn't care."

Nolan shook his head and raised his glass of pinot, gesturing for her to do the same. "Well, cheers to his knockout of a wife that he doesn't deserve."

She couldn't help but snicker. She cheered him with her own wine, and they both took a sip.

"He really doesn't know how damn lucky he is."

Kate looked back at her boss. His large brown eyes were deep, soulful, and a slight rouge glazed his cheeks. No wonder he was being so forward; he was a little intoxicated.

"He's not that lucky, Nolan..."

He shook his head. "I disagree."

Kate snorted and put her hands on her hips. The action jostled her breasts, and for the first time, she noticed her stoic, super polite boss stare down at them. Yet unlike when other men stared, she didn't want him to stop. His pupils dilated, which made her nipples harden with arousal, something she knew he could see through her thin nursing bra.

The longer he stared, the more she noticed how wet she was getting. She remembered just how much milk he had drank from the bottles in his office; would it be too much to want him to grab her breasts and feed right from the source? To want him to fill her with children?

Holy hell, she was horny for her boss!

Blushing, she tried to turn the thoughts by looking away. Still, his gaze was warm and inviting, and it felt awfully nice to be wanted by someone like him.

"How do you figure Chris is lucky?"

Nolan took a gentle sip from his glass. "For starters, his girlfriend has what have to be the most perfect breasts in the world. Massive pillows of comfort with enough milk in her to feed her family and an entire orphanage."

Kate couldn't help but feign offense. "An orphanage?!"

He was right of course; as it was, she could feel the nursing bra she was wearing digging tighter and tighter as she filled up with more and more milk. Blue veins pulsed the surface, begging her to nurse or pump, or else the tight red dress she was in was going to be dripping. Yet she couldn't help but stare back as Nolan continued.

"You donate your excess milk to children in need at hospitals because you adore kids. If the hormones you give off all the time are to be trusted, you want a hell of a lot more of them, too."

Right again. Her cheeks flushed. "I want to have like... eight..."

A playful, almost naughty smile played upon his lips. "Eight kids, or eight more kids?"

Good God, with how lusty his voice was, she didn't know anymore.

"If it were me," Nolan continued, "I wouldn't have made my girlfriend who just gave birth to quadruplets go back to work unless she wanted to. I would have made sure she and our kids had everything they needed while we continued to build our family with plenty of breastfed children. And, as long as she was okay with it, I would make sure she was always pregnant."

Oh fuck. Kate tried crossing her legs to hide the fact that her panties were soaked as she stifled a moan. Her breasts felt so incredibly tight in the bra and dress, it was hard to breathe.

"I can't lie, seeing you pregnant at work was a massive distraction for me, Kate. You're like a fertility goddess tantalizing me, because I know I can't have you anywhere close to how much I want you."

Suddenly, with the sound of two snaps and a slight tearing sound, Kate lurched forward under the weight of her breasts as she let out a moan.

Looking down at them, she realized the clasps on her nursing bra must have broken completely under all the extra weight of her engorged breasts. And when they did, her cleavage came spilling out, and her dress had ripped to make more space for her massive mammaries.

But she didn't care. Her nipples were hard from arousal, and the dark pink meat from her areolas were spilling out from the dress. Everything Nolan had said excited her, and her body was ready.

"I knew you were looking a little full." He smirked, but stared down at her breasts affectionately. "Do you want my jacket to cover up?"

She shook her head and got to her feet, her freed breasts jostling and audibly sloshing around the milk. She took his hand and pulled, leading him away from the table, ignoring the stares she got from others who had noticed her dress mishap.

"Everything okay?"Nolan asked once they had gotten to the parking lot.

Kate nodded, the action finally making one of her nipples pop out. Cherry red and dripping, she knew her boss would stare, and she was right.

"I choose you."

"Hmm?"

"I am so horny, Nolan. For you, for that life that you want. I need you to get me pregnant. I need you to keep getting me pregnant, even if it means twenty or thirty kids." There was no room for embarrassment anymore. She pressed her massive leaking breasts against his chest and looked up at him pleadingly. "Please?"

He took her engorged mammaries in his hands and gently massaged them. Each time his fingers hit a gland, a spurt of milk dampened his shirt until he was near soaked.

"Poor thing, you're so full..." He leaned down and lapped at the small river her breast had made as Kate let out a load moan. "Did you need me to nurse on them while I fuck you in the car?"

----

🐮❤️

#lactation kink tw #massive breasts #smut #tw lactation kink #breast expansion #huge natural melons #huge cleavage #mommy milkers #writing #big tiddy committee #dirty pillows #huge tiddies #big tiddy wife

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usedtobecooler · 4 months

Text

eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.

tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, size kink, oral m receiving, piv sex, praise kink, dirty talk, general debauchery. for my love @raccoonboywrites

and, listen, you’re not a size queen at all. don’t care much for how big or small a cock is so long as whoever it’s attached to knows how to use it. but you gasp out loud once you get your fingers dig under eddie’s waistband, pulling the offending material down to let his length spring out.

it’s enough to shock you back into the room, watching as the thick weight of it slaps against eddie’s tummy, the way it curves into his navel. he’s wet, leaking at the head and matting down the pretty swirls of black hair that lead a trail down, down, down.

he’s rumpled against your bed frame, slumped down with his shirt rucked up his tummy. the prettiest pink flush spreading across his cheeks, tinging his ears and dipping as low as his collar. you’re willing to bet his chest is blotched with the lovely rosy colour, too. he grips aimlessly at your comforter, wide eyes watching your every move; tracing every hitch of your breath.

you wrap your hand around the base — purposely ignoring the pathetic little whine eddie makes, because jesus now isn’t the time to think too much about that — and you moan despite yourself when your hand doesn’t even wrap fully around the girth of it, dwarfing your fingers and palm.

“you— you’re so big, oh my god,” your voice catches at the end, desperate and dampened by your own desire for it. you lean forward, hot breath ghosting over him, tugging his foreskin back just enough for the head to pop out, shiny and reddening with need, “you could’ve at least warned me you were packing a python down there, fuck.”

“oh shit, really? i thought it was aver— holy fuck, you don’t have to—“ he’s bug eyed, eyebrows shooting under his fringe as you mouth at the head, determined and eager to get a taste of him. uncut, heavy on your tongue, the heady splash of precum blurting out to coat your tastebuds.

eddie’s knees kick up a little as you mouth greedily at his tip, pointing your tongue to run in circles around the glans on the underside. you smirk despite yourself, getting a kick out of it when eddie goes a little cross eyed, burying a ringed hand into your hair.

you indulge yourself, feeling the weight of him in your mouth as you sink lower, just far back enough as to not trigger your gag reflex. your lips wrapping around his hot flesh, suckling softly, reveling in each blurt of pearlescent release that drips onto your tongue.

“baby, sweetheart — fuck,” eddie gasps, breath shuddery, lightly pulling at your tresses to test the water. his mouth falling open into a quiet moan when your eyes flutter at the feeling, “y’can- y’can take more, right? s’not… s’not that big.”

your jaw cracks under what of him you’ve fit in, which truthfully isn’t much. despite your efforts, there’s still a good three inches of eddie’s cock left untouched by hand or mouth, and you really have to wonder if he’s that clueless of his size. you pull off with a wet pop, strings of saliva keeping you connected to him as you stare up with wet orbs.

“eddie, you’re huge.” your voice is wrecked, butterflies swirling in your tummy as you make eye contact with him once again. you flush under his debauched gaze, "i— shit. nobody's ever told you before?"

eddie shrugs, considers for a moment. you don't think he's aware of the fact he's holding you in place with his hand, gripping your hair just enough to keep you still, hovering over his dick just close enough that if he wanted to, he could push you back down, get your mouth back on him.

though, that’s clearly not what he wants. because, he’s slipping the hand from your hair, doing this kind of awkward dance as he lays you out where he wants you.

you end up on your back, thighs spread wide as eddie slots between them, mouthing hotly at your neck. his fingers graze along your flushed skin, dance on your hipbone, across your pelvis. dips those godforsaken fingers into your panties, carelessly fumbling over your sopping wet pussy.

“this is okay, right?”

“it’s all okay, eddie. anything you want.”

"not— not even touched you yet and you're already this wet?" eddie's voice is a low timbre against your skin, has you arching up into his touch with a soft little moan. he sounds shocked, no heat or teasing in his words.

"can't help it," you gasp, exhaling shakily when eddie swipes two fingers over your clit deftly, unable to hide his smile at how receptive you are, "feeling the size of you in my hand — my mouth, god. would've let you choke me with it, would've thanked you."

eddie buries his face into your cleavage, poorly concealing a choked whine. he's skillful with his fingers, working you over fast despite how much your words are clearly affecting him.

your hips rock in short little circles, fingers sinking into eddie's hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck. you whine, body set alight with the feeling of calloused fingers grazing the small bundle of nerves.

he's biting you, brandishing you with little blooming bruises, and with the noise he makes against your damp skin you'd think it was him getting touched like this, him hurtling towards the edge.

you're so wet that the slick noises of eddie's fingers on your pussy are deafening in your ears, causing your back to prickle with heat, tummy winding tight.

the hot, heavy flesh of his cock presses against your inner thigh, shocking loud moans from you both at the same time. you arch up into his touch, ears ringing as pleasure takes over your body.

"i— you're making me cum," you gasp breathily, a static feeling warming your body, eyes rolling into the back of your head. you grapple for eddie's hair once more, tugging with a ferocity as your release washes over you.

it's. something. you feel like you're fucking floating, and eddie keeps swirling his fingers perfectly, whispering little shocked praises and keening into your rough pulling as he wrings you out.

once eddie's sure you're done with the aftershocks of your orgasm, he hazards pushing two fingers into your soaked cunt, and you're practically shooting away with overstimulation. crying out, somehow swivelling your hips and pushing down onto his fingers further once the shock wears off.

"you're a shit," you gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, "god, might've known your dick was gonna be big, fuckin' size of your fingers."

"was— was that good for you? can i, shit can i?" eddie's desperate, rutting the thick outline of his cock against your thigh. he's never stopped fucking leaking, soaking your leg in milky precum and allowing the slip and slide to feel good.

you nod, shaky hands tilting his head up so you can finally, finally, get your mouth on his. eddie's whole body presses flush against yours, his hand coming out to stabilise himself so he doesn't crush you, and fuck.

it's so charged, like he can't stilt his emotions as he snakes his tongue into your mouth, lapping at your own wetly. it's probably disgusting, doesn't feel like it though — you'd swallow his spit happily, whenever he wanted, if it meant he kept making you feel like this.

eddie's shaky hand fumbles for the base of his cock as you continue kissing, positioning himself so that he's nestled prettily between your legs. the kisses turn languid, and he almost sounds pained when he next speaks, "s-sorry. if it, if it hurts."

"let it hurt, i want it to," your demeanor falters a little, turning doe eyed and pleading as eddie slides the ruddy head of his cock up and down the seam of your cunt, flirts with the idea of pushing the tip in just to watch you gasp and keen.

"would never," eddie promises, finally — fucking, finally — pushing the first few inches into the sopping wet heat of your pussy. he cries out when you clench around him unwittingly, and you mumble out a small sorry as you adjust.

it's. not good. it's not bad, either, but fuck. you feel like you're being split from the inside, the thick tip pushing you wider than you anticipated. your fingers grapple for eddie's biceps, nails digging in tightly, "so fucking big, oh my god, you're gonna split me in half."

you're breathless and eddie catches on, panics a little, "you're okay? you're okay, right? i can sto—"

"if you stop, i swear to god," you seethe, looking at eddie with a fierce spark in your eyes, "keep going. fuck. keep going."

before long and with a little bit of resistance, eddie's buried deep inside of you. your bodies roll against one anothers, shallow, slow breaths

it starts slow, the catch and drag of eddie's cock shocking you both into silence. but, before long, your pussy catches up with the programme, gushing wet and allowing eddie to push in further with each thrust.

it's intimate, erotic.

"you're so tight," eddie all-out whimpers, head falling and shoulders shaking as he fucks you at a lazy pace, clearly trying his best to hold out for as long as he can.

"fuck, you’re so gentle,” you try, knees squeezing eddie’s narrow waist, thighs encapsulating him, “you can go quicker. not gonna break me.”

eddie shakes his head, almost like he’s bewildered. looks at you all fucking soft, clearly can’t help the rut of his hips as he buries in deep, biting his inner lips to muffle his noises.

you grasp a hold of eddie's hand with nimble fingers, guide his hand over the softness of your tummy, let him push down where his cock is buried deep inside of you. his whole body shudders, and you can feel where he kicks up.

"practically in my guts," you wheeze, unable to shake the full feeling despite how your pussy gushes for him, so full you swear you feel him in your throat with every deep thrust he can muster, "you're s-so big, eddie."

"oh— jesus, can't do shit like that. can't say shit like that," eddie grunts desperately, rutting into you and gripping for your waist tightly, other hand still pushed down on the pudge of your belly, "gonna make me cum so, so quick."

"can feel every ridge of you, you're splitting me apart," you keen, "i can't— god, you've ruined me f-for anyone else. yours, yours, m'yours."

eddie's forehead slumps against your own, and you're panting into each others mouths more than anything else, lips barely brushing, "mine, you're mine." he agrees, though he sounds pained and submissive as he says it.

your hand snakes around eddie's neck, holding him in place as he fucks you so desperately, so rough you're rattling the stupid bedframe, and you don't think you've ever felt anything like this before. it's all-consuming, the tug between sore and soul-crushingly sensual.

your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, the constant press against your spot causing a quicker build up than you could've anticipated. you both make eye contact as you come with a muted gasp, nails scraping harshly at the soft skin on eddie's neck as you rock it out.

"didn't think you could get any tighter, god," eddie whimpers, eyes squeezing shut, finger-shaped bruises sure to be left on your hips as he fucks you in some sort of reckless abandon, "fuck, i'm so close. i'm so sorry, fuck, fuck."

you nod, understanding, the wet clap of skin on skin deafening as your release allows an even smoother glide. he's fucking ethereal above you, covered in a light sheen of sweat, mouth open in a constant stream of steady moans.

you reach between where both of your bodies meet, where the final few inches don't quite fit, spreading your fingers either side of his cock to allow friction as he fucks in and out rapidly, chasing his high.

eddie looks at you with a wild expression, eyebrows shooting up into his fringe. he grunts like a fucking animal, eyes drifting down to where your hand is, "you— you— i'm cumming, holy fuck—!"

he's loud when he comes, full body wracked with it. you feel his cock pulse and kick inside of you, painting your insides deep. the moan you let out at the feeling is hardly voluntary, so pathetic you flush hot when you realise just how loud you are.

"thank you, thank you," eddie's mumbling against your skin, kissing the side of your neck softly as he comes down, "god, you're perfect. so perfect."

you shudder, overcome with this sappy fucking fond feeling, allowing eddie to collapse on top of you once he's done. it's soft, domestic, even.

you both end up in some sort of gross, body fluid covered cuddle as you calm down. blissed out in the post-orgasmic haze, and fuck.

maybe you're in love with him.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson drabble #my fanfic #mine #x reader

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rowarn · 6 months

Text

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2

simon riley / reader

FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3

tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI

cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes

note: this is part two and contains the gratuitous smut portion ur all looking forward to <3

you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.

PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k

Things seem to get much better between you. Your anger and resentment towards Simon diminishes significantly and you can finally say you feel comfortable around him again. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten everything that happened, you fear that the entire ordeal has left its scar on you.

But you finally feel ready to truly begin to work on yourself and get to a better place mentally.

You’re humming to yourself as you dust the surfaces in your living room, cringing in disgust when you see how dusty a particular shelf was.

Just as you go to give it another swipe, your front door opens and Simon stumbles in, huffing from effort as he carries two armfuls of groceries.

“Simon!” you cry out, watching with wide eyes from the stepstool you stood on as he ungracefully dropped them on the floor, “Why did you bring them all up here like that?”

“Didn’t wanna make another trip,” he explained lamely, flexing his hands as he looked over all the bags.

“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly.

Simon finally looks up at you, “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” you shrug, waving the duster at him, “I haven’t felt like doing it until now so might as well get it done when I feel like it!”

He’s quiet for a moment before he steps over the bags of groceries.His boots thunk heavily on the floor as he approaches you. Suddenly, he wraps an arm around your middle. You squeak in surprise when he very carefully and gently pulls you off of the stool and places you back onto your feet.

Then he walks away like nothing happened, snatching up a couple groceries up from the floor to take to the kitchen.

You decide not to comment on his behavior and simply choose to grab a couple of bags and help him out. When you get inside the kitchen, he’s already stuffing things into the refrigerator. You place the bags down and go back to pick some more up, transferring all the bags of groceries near him so he can easily put them away.

You notice one of the bags has some piping, lightbulbs, wires, and other things you can’t identify.

“What’s all this?” you ask, holding the bag out to him when he turns to look.

He grunts, closing the fridge, “Gonna fix some shit around here.”

“Why?” you ask, scrunching your nose up as you place the bag on the counter.

“Shithole needs it,” he mumbles, moving to start opening the cabinets, “Since you refuse to let me move you out of this place, I’m gonna make sure it at least functions.”

You hum and nod your head. Simon had attempted to convince you to move out and into an apartment of his own choosing but you flat out refused. He was already paying the rent on this place, you weren’t going to let him spend more money for a different place – because you know Simon would choose somewhere that would cost a lot more than your current flat.

But you couldn’t deny, the idea of Simon doing a little manual labor around the apartment made your heart flutter in your chest. The way he took care of you and was willing to get his hands dirty just to make sure you were comfortable. The little domestic tasks you could imagine him doing.

It almost felt like something a husband would do.

You felt your cheeks flush immediately at the train of thought. How embarrassing and juvenile to think something like that

“I can cook dinner!” you mumble after clearing your throat.

Simon actually has the audacity to laugh. You frown as he shakes his head, closing the cabinet before turning to you.

“Absolutely not,” he says.

Your jaw drops, “Why?!”

“Because,” he steps closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before breezing past you, “You’re a terrible cook, love.”

You open your mouth to retort but can only huff. Because he’s right. The last time you tried to make dinner for the two of you, you had confused cayenne with cinnamon and made the most diabolical stew known to man. He vowed to never let you cook anything that required more than boiling water since.

You pout your way back to the living room, mumbling a petulant, “Fine…” as you went.

You didn’t catch the broad grin on Simon’s face as he watched you sulk away. He was just happy to see your vibrance returning before his very eyes.

True to his word, however, he began to do some random odd jobs around the apartment. He changed that damn leaky faucet in the kitchen first. He would never admit it but it was beginning to drive him completely mad. He swore he could hear it dripping into the metal sink basin in his dreams.

Then he fixed the piping in the bathroom so they would stop all that god-awful clanking that practically woke up the entire complex. But after that, he figured he might as well fix the piping under the sinks as well.

That’s when you saw him. On his back, big body sprawled out as he worked underneath the cabinet, wrench in hand and soft grunts of effort coming from him. His t-shirt rose up just a bit, exposing a small stretch of tummy and his happy trail. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it made your mouth go completely dry.

You felt like a Victorian man seeing his first ankle on a woman. Ridiculous.

Sure, you’d seen Simon shirtless countless times – hell, you walked in on him completely naked once or twice. But there was something particularly…delicious about him like this. Unaware, casual, just doing work.

It made a swell of heat settle in your abdomen. You squeezed your thighs together as you watched him. His biceps flexed and bulged, making the sleeve of his t-shirt grow taut around his skin. His muscles moved underneath the tattoos inked into his skin.

You dragged your eyes down his body, past his pecs, past the sliver of tummy. You imagined yourself crawling between those thick thighs and unbuckling his belt, tugging at the button of his jeans. You imagined getting to see his cock chub up inside his boxers before you would pull it out and wrap your lips around the leaking tip.

Salty, you imagine. You’ve always heard that men’s cum and pre-cum would be salty. Would Simon’s taste as bad as some of your friends had told you back in highschool? You hoped not. You couldn’t imagine not enjoying every part of him – even his cum.

You wanted him to shoot in your mouth, let you taste it. You wanted to milk it out of him, give him no choice but to cum down your throat.

“Are you just going to stand there or do you need something?” his voice startled you out of your thoughts.

Wide eyed, you looked to meet his gaze but you found he wasn’t even looking at you, still staring at the piped overhead.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, floundering for an excuse as to why you were ogling him like a piece of meat, “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I-I was just wanting to make sure the shower was okay to use?”

He grunts, letting out a soft sigh before pushing himself out from under the sink, closing the cabinet before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Yeah, go ahead and shower, love.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, casting one last glance to see that his t-shirt had fallen back into place. Disappointing.

You trudge out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Softly, you close the door and turn on the shower. The pipes don’t clang when the water shoots through them. It brings a smile to your face.

Once you’re stripped and standing under the warm spray, you let your hands wander your body. First, you cup your breasts, watching your nipples harden under your own touch before you slide one hand between your thighs. There’s a slickness between your folds that's distinctly different from the water, it’s slippery and sticky. But it makes your touch against your clit easy.

You bite your lips to keep quiet, scared to death that Simon could hear you from under the sound of the water. You make quick, tight little circles against your clit. The bud is hard and twitches under your fingers. It makes the breath stutter out of your chest.

You need more room, you realize, hiking your foot up onto a shelf. It spreads you open just a little more, gives you a little more access for your fingers to play. You sigh, head tipping forward to watch as you circle your own clit.

But the more you touch yourself, the faster that tingling, warm sensation dissipates. You huff through your clenched teeth, frustrated.

Usually, you could at least feel the beginning of that peak forming but this time…not even close. So you shamefully close your legs and go about your shower as if nothing happened, taking care to wash the slick from between your thighs especially.

As you lay in bed that night, Simon breathing deeply beside you as he slept, you were lost in thought.

Surely, you were in the wrong for thinking about Simon like that – for getting wet at the sight of him. And then sleeping soundly next to him as if you weren’t some kind of pervert. Maybe you should just confess and apologize to him.

No. You quickly admonish that thought, glancing over at his prone form. You couldn’t bear to see him be disgusted by you. He’d already rejected you years ago, finalized it and put the nail in the coffin so you would never be dumb enough to do it again.

What would he do if he found out about your…attraction to him? He practically lived with you now, after everything happened. He was in your flat more than he was on base now. It was only a matter of time before he caught you with your hands dancing in your pants.

Your cheeks flushed at the idea. Part of you thought it hot – for him to find you needy like that, desperately playing with your clit as you try to make yourself cum.

But on the other hand, you could see the wrinkle of disgust in his brow and sneer on his face as he walked away. That outcome was not worth it, you decided.

With a sigh, you rolled over so your back faced Simon and closed your eyes for the night.

You both should have known better that the fragile peacefulness between the two of you was just that – fragile, balancing on a delicate precipice that could shatter at any moment.

The ring of his phone was the break.

“Answer that for me, love!” he called from the kitchen where he was busy preparing dinner.

You leaned forward to check the number. It wasn’t in his contacts but Simon never got calls from people unless he knew them. So you slowly slid the button over and accepted the call.

“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.

There was a beat of silence before a woman’s voice responded in kind, “Hello?”

“Um…” you swallowed down the apprehension that settled in your chest, casting a glance towards Simon’s back as he stood over the stove, “Who may I ask is calling?”

“I’m looking for Simon,” she said, sounding much more coy than a second ago. She knew his real name and that irked you. People from work always referred to him as Ghost, only those he considered trustworthy or friends were privy to calling him Simon.

“Um, he’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” you ask, loud enough for Simon to hear in the kitchen if he was interested in intervening. But he didn’t move.

“Sure!” she giggled, “Tell him that Victoria really wants to see him again and to call me so we can!”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll let him know…”

“Thank you,” she cooed in a sultry tone, “Oh! And tell him I really had a great time last time we were together and that I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” you assured, hoping you didn’t sound as tense as you felt.

She giggled before the call disconnected and you were left glaring at his stupid stock phone wallpaper.

“Who was it?” Simon comes to the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. You can’t hear anything cooking anymore so you assume he’s finished dinner.

“Victoria,” you spit the name out like it’s poisonous, “Says she wants to see you again and she had a fantastic time with you last time.”

Simon shifts where he stands, looking down at his feet before looking back up to you, “Alright. I’ll call her back later.”

That sends knives straight through your heart. It aches so badly that you want to bite your own tongue off to make it stop.

Jealousy, you realize. You’re fucking jealous. Some girl calls and asks for his dick and he just says okay?

He’s not yours, you tell yourself. He can fuck whoever he wants.

But that does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you.

There’s other feelings brewing inside you; rejection, fear, loss.

You feel bitter that you’re right there and he would still never choose you. He’ll always choose someone else because he doesn’t see you like that. It feels like he’s throwing it in your face, just spitting at you to show you that he doesn’t love you like you love him. He never has and he never will. You’ll never be an option to him because he doesn’t want you.

Then you’re scared he’s going to leave you. He’s going to go to this Victoria chick and leave you all alone so he can get his dick wet again. Just like last time. Maybe he’ll like it so much he wants to stay with her. Maybe he’s going to leave you behind so he can start a new, happy life without having to worry about the dead weight that’s been dragging him down since he was 8. You. His responsibility. His problem.

You’re so scared that he’s going to be ripped from your grasp. That you’re going to lose him to someone else and it’s going to be you and your pathetic one-sided love for the rest of your life. Fuck, you’ve loved him since you were 4. You’ve loved him for so long that it makes you nauseous to think about. How many people loved one person for this long?

Please, you wanted to cry to him, please love me.

Please, just love me back.

“So you’re gonna go then?’ you finally find your voice, bitterness and resentment thick in your tone, “You’re gonna leave me to go to a booty call again?”

He stands up straight at that. Arms cross over his chest, he watches that way you glare at him, heated and teary-eyed. Hurt.

He knew you still weren’t over the way he left you that time – when you needed him the most. You’d been ignoring the residual hurt that lingered, intent on pretending that everything was fine. He had been doing his best to make up for it but it always felt like one step forward and two steps back with you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures softly, “I’ll call her back to tell her that it won’t happen.”

He tries his best to remain level-headed and soft, to be reassuring like he knows you need. But your expression doesn’t change. You continue to glare at him with that furious, hurt look in your eyes.

Suddenly, you stand.

“I don’t believe you,” you hiss, turning your back to him, storming down the hallway.

He almost winces when he hears how hard you slam the bedroom door. He thinks about going back there to talk to you but decides against it. You need some space to calm yourself down.

He eats the dinner he made for both of you alone, putting your half in the fridge for later. He goes about the apartment, locking the door and turning out all the lights. Then he gets to the bedroom door and goes to turn the knob and it doesn’t budge.

Despite himself, he laughs. He jiggles the knob, jerks the door a little harder like it’ll open with a bit of force. And it might, it’s a flimsy ass door if he’s being honest – he’s forced bigger and heavier doors open before.

He snaps your name, humor gone from his voice. You don’t answer.

“Open the damn door,” he snaps, trying the knob again. He gets silence in return so he slams his fist against the surface. The sound is loud enough that it makes his own ears ring, “I said open the door. I’m not playin’ this game with you, sweetheart.”

“Sleep on the couch, Simon!” he hears your wobbly voice call back. Of course you’re in there crying, he thinks.

“I’m not sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch,” he hisses, leaning his forearm against the door, resting his head against it with a sigh, “Open the door and let’s talk.”

“Don’t wanna talk to you,” you whine, bratty as all hell. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damn pissed, “Why don’t you go sleep with Victoria since you like her so much.”

You don’t know why you say that last part. You don’t want him to go to her, you don’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of it brings more tears to your eyes.

Simon is silent on the other side of the door for a long while. You almost think he walked away and succumbed to the couch. You wouldn’t actually let him sleep on that awful thing, of course. You just…you don’t know what the end goal here is, if you’re honest.

“Fine,” he finally spits, “If that’s what you want, I’ll fuck off and find Victoria.”

You hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he walks away. You sit up straight in bed at that, eyes wide as you listen to him stalk through the house. You swear you hear the jingle of his keys and that’s what has you lurching out of bed in a panic.

You almost trip over the sheets as they tangle around your legs but you manage to free yourself and wrench the door open.

“Simon!” you practically shriek, rounding the corner of the hallway to find him standing with his back to you, facing the door.

He’s got his hoodie and mask on, boots firmly on his feet and keys in hand. He stands still, back straight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. But he waits.

“Don’t go,” you find yourself whimpering, “‘M sorry. Come to bed, okay?”

He doesn’t move and that makes your heart pound in your chest. You know he’s pissed, can see it in the way his fists stay clenched at his sides. His fingers twitch and he makes a move for the doorknob and you surge forward, wrapping yourself around his other arm, yanking him away from the door as hard as you can.

He lets your weight knock him off balance, lets you drag him away from the door. He lets you tug him down the hallway, sniffling and crying as you do.

“J-Just…” you find yourself frantically tugging his mask off, tossing it away before you rip the hem of his hoodie up. He doesn’t help you or fight you as you try to take it off of him. He just stares blankly at you, like he’s assessing you. You hate it. “G-Get ready for bed, okay? Just…we can go to sleep.”

“Why do you make this so fuckin’ hard for me?” he finally breaks his silence, the question cold and calculating. Like he’s tired. Exhausted, “I keep tryin’ to make it up to you. But every time something goes wrong, you throw everything back in my face and you act like you hate me again. I can’t keep…” he trails off, shaking his head before he sits at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together and head hanging between his shoulders.

“I love you,” you blurt out, a sob breaking out of your lips as you do. Simon doesn’t move. Your hands cover your eyes, as if being blind to his reaction will make the rejection hurt less, “I love you and i-it just keeps messing me up inside. I’m sorry.”

“You love me?” he asks, still no emotion in his voice.

When you peek at him, he’s in the same position as before, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing and you’re scared to find out.

“Yes,” you hiccup, sniffling softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly, almost solemnly.

“I promised,” you cry, another choked sob escaping you.

“Promised..?” he doesn’t sound cold anymore, just confused, “The fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

“W-When I was 14,” you whimper, shame filling you as you recall your now-broken promise, “I-I told you I liked you and you said you didn’t feel the same. You told me to never bring it up again and I promised I wouldn’t. B-But…” you sobbed again, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he breathes, bringing his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down vigorously in a way that looks like it hurts. Then he laughs.

He fucking laughs.

It’s like your worst fears come to light. He’s laughing at you, at your confession. At your feelings. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You bite your lips to keep from making your sobs audible anymore. You didn’t want him to laugh at that too. You hang your head, wringing your hands together behind your back anxiously as Simon quiets down.

“Shit,” he breathes, getting to his feet. He stands before you, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He frowns when he sees the utter despair on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes, “No, baby. No, no. I wasn’t laughin’ at you.”

Baby. You catch onto it. He’s never called you that before.

You dash the spark of hope that it causes.

He rubs his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away.

Then, he leans forward and slots his lips against yours.

It’s like fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart races so fast that you feel lightheaded. You can’t even respond to the kiss in time before he pulls away, your mind is moving too fast for you to process any meaningful thought. But he kissed you.

Simon kissed you.

“What?” you finally manage to whisper, looking up with wide, shocked eyes, “Why did you..?”

He looks confused for a second, still cupping your cheeks as he looks into your watery eyes, “You really have no idea?” Your brows furrow immediately and you shake your head, “How I feel about you?”

“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat.

He smiles softly, thumb rubbing softly over your cheekbone, “You really think I don’t feel the same?”

“B-But when…when we were kids I…” you stumble over your words, the truth you’ve believed this entire time seemingly false, “You s-said you didn’t feel the same.”

“Jesus, love,” he huffs softly in disbelief, “You were fourteen. I was seventeen. You were way too fuckin’ young for me, it wouldn’t have been right.”

“B-But then…” you stutter, reaching up to wipe your cheek, “When did you..?”

He shrugs, “Not sure exactly. Suppose sometime after you turned 20 was when I realized I felt somethin’ for you.”

“So you really…” you whisper, snagging your hands into his hoodie to pull him close, “You really…I mean…”

“Love you?” he smiles softly, “Of course I do.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his. He hums, wrapping one strong arm around your middle to pull you even closer. His lips work magically over yours, taking control of the kiss with ease. You easily melt into it, following his lead. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be and you hope Simon doesn’t notice.

But he does, of course he does.

He pulls away and smooths the palm of his hand down your cheek before it comes to rest on your jaw. His thumb slides over your bottom lip and he hums.

“You ever kissed before?” he asks, voice calm and level with no teasing to it at all.

Still, heat explodes all over your face. Embarrassment overrides the euphoria of your requited feelings. You try to pull away but Simon’s much stronger and he won’t let go unless he wants to.

“Hey, don’t run,” he coos softly, turning your face to look back up at him, “I was just askin’.”

“No,” you mumble, still burning with embarrassment, “I-I’ve only ever liked you so…”

“Fuckin’ hell…” he whispers, letting you step back just a bit so he can look over you, “Is that right?”

“You should know that,” you mumble, feeling small under his scrutiny, “You know everything about me.”

“Didn’t think datin’ history was somethin’ you felt like sharin’,” he shrugged off.

“Well, now you know,” you mutter, your gaze glued to the floor.

“That I do,” he hums in agreement, reaching out to brush a hand down the length of your arm.

A soft, quietness falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what to do and it seems he’s content where he is. He’s watching you, tracking every little shift and fidget you make until he finally seems to take pity on you.

“Let’s get to bed,” he says softly, giving you a soft nudge towards the bed.

You take the opportunity to dive into bed, yanking the blanket over you as Simon strips himself out of his boots and hoodie. You go to look away as he yanks his belt free with practiced hands but you can’t seem to. He slips the belt out of the loops and drops it on the dresser before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him in a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs slung low on his hips. You can make out the shape of his–

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he mumbles half-heartedly as he turns to root through the dresser to find some sweatpants.

“Sorry…” you mutter shamefully at being caught.

He chuckles under his breath, pulling the sweats on before he rounds to his side of the bed and drops onto the mattress, “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”

He leans over you and turns out the tableside lamp. Then he settles into his pillow with a soft sigh.

“Si..?” you whisper.

“Yeah?” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Are we um…” you clear your throat, “I mean like…are we…together now..?”

You feel him roll over and toss his arms around you. You squeak when he tugs you towards him roughly, securing you against his chest before he kisses the top of your head.

“Do you want to be together?” he asks, muffled by his lips pressed against you.

“Yes,” you whisper quickly, wrapping yourself around him almost possessively.

He tilts your head up and carefully slots his mouth over yours again. You sigh happily at the feeling.

You notice that he keeps it a lot slower than he had before, moving his lips carefully against yours. Like he’s trying to make it easier for you to keep up. It makes your cheeks flush again but you sink into the pillow and let him kiss all he wants as you do your best to match his movements.

His body shifts, torso hovering over you as he rests his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. Your hands rest against his shoulders and simply get lost in the kiss.

After a moment, he deepens the kiss, sinking into you with his chest pressed against yours. You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his cropped hair.

One of his hands moves, coming to grip your waist, fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dream come true. Literally.

All those nights you spent with your hand between your thighs, thinking of him. Thinking of him touching you like this – with his hand sliding your shirt up a little further every second. You even feel that familiar wetness soaking your panties.

Then why was your heart racing from anxiety instead of excitement? Why did you feel a fearful tremble setting in your thighs, as if your knees would be knocking together if you were standing. Why were you scared?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re shoving your hands against his chest with a weak, “No!”

Simon is off of you in seconds but you can feel his gaze on you in the darkness. You struggle to catch your breath as you lay there, heart pounding in your ears. Your head hurts, you realize with a wince.

“Um…” you find yourself attempting to appease him, “I-I don’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s alright,” he whispers sincerely, settling down into bed with a content hum, “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”

You scoot closer to him and hesitantly place your head on his chest. Simon’s arm wraps around your back and tucks you even more snug against him. You close your eyes and will yourself to relax and sleep as you feel Simon’s comforting hand rubbing your back.

Neither of you talk about it in the morning. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. You don’t bring it up, even though you want to, and Simon doesn’t try touching you like that again. Part of you wants him to, you’ve been dreaming about his touch for years but once you finally get it, you freak out?

You can’t stop beating yourself up over it.

But then you think about the anxiety that it had caused. The apprehension. How uncomfortable it felt – how you wanted his hands off of you.

You sighed, flopping onto your side on the couch where you sat. Your mind was buzzing annoyingly from your thoughts.

Regardless of your problems, you were happier than ever with him. He was finally yours. Wholly and truly yours. It was bliss.

“Got a call,” Simon says, snapping you out of your daze, “Gotta leave.”

That makes you sit up, “Leave?”

You finally notice that he’s got his bag packed – the one he only takes when he’s getting deployed. You’re on your feet in seconds, following him to the door. He’s wearing his skull balaclava so all you can see are his eyes – sad, apologetic.

“H-How long?” you ask, unable to ignore the ache in your chest as you watch him.

“Few weeks, probably,” he mutters, placing the bag down so he can tuck his feet into his boots.

He straightens up with a grunt before turning to you. He sighs, gloved hands cupping your cheeks when he sees how sad you look – like a kicked puppy. You wish you could feel his bare hands on you but can’t find it in you to ask.

“I don’t want you to go,” you find yourself mumbling.

It’s selfish and even a bit cruel of you to voice that desire. Simon’s thumb strokes your cheek in that sweet way he always does and you melt into him. He lets you thump your head against his chest as you suppress your cries, biting your lip so you can keep your tears at bay.

“I know,” he softly whispers, stroking your back as you cling to him, “I know, but I have to.”

“I know,” you mumble, finally looking up at him. You know your eyes are glassy and you make sure to blink back the tears so they never overflow, “Just be safe and come home, okay?”

He lifts his mask up just enough to expose his lips before he leans down to kiss you. It’s a whole body experience this time. He clutches you against him like his life depends on it, gloved hands fiercely gripping the back of your t-shirt. His lips move smoothly against yours, hand coming up to cup your jaw so he can tilt your head and pull you even deeper into his kiss. He pulls away when he needs to breathe, smiling when he sees the dazed, lovesick expression on your face. He tugs his mask down and lets you go but you stay as close to him as possible.

“Make sure you stay warm,” he coos, “Gonna start gettin’ real cold in a couple days.”

“I will, Si,” you assure him.

“Left some cash for you to do your shoppin’,” he adds, “I know you’re a shit cook but I left a list of some easy recipes. Don’t burn the flat down.”

You snort and playfully smack his shoulder, “I’ll just buy some cup noodles in that case.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching your side to make you gasp from the ticklish feeling, “Don’t even think about it.”

Your grin falters when his phone makes that obnoxious beeping noise that lets you know it’s something urgent. He sighs, the tranquil happiness between you two broken immediately. He kisses your forehead through his mask and pulls the front door open.

“Keep this locked,” he mutters, stepping past the threshold, “I’ll be home soon.”

He closes the door and you’re left with an emptiness that overcomes you. You’ve always been scared for him when he has to go off on missions – you know that his job is extremely dangerous and he could lose his life at any moment. That thought alone makes a nauseous pit settle in your stomach. You push down the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and click the lock on the door with a sigh before you go about your day, trying your best to keep your mind off of him and where he might be in the world.

True to his word, however, the temperature drops bitterly cold within 2 days after he leaves. There had already been a chill in the air that drove you to turn the heating on just a bit but now it was full blast. But now, it was dipping to freezing and you were anticipating the arrival of snow soon enough as well.

You wake up one morning, however, and your apartment is bitterly cold. You sit up, confused before climbing out of bed. Your feet are immediately freezing as you step onto the floor. You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumble over to the radiator in your room. You touch it and find absolutely no heat emanating from it.

All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat.

You curse, realizing you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You curl up on the couch under a heavy throw blanket as you type with bitterly cold fingers into Google, looking for anything that can help you. But it’s to no avail. You can’t understand a thing.

Your next thought is to call the building manager but you know that’s pointless. The useless man never actually helps with any work for his tenants.

There’s no way in hell that you can afford to call someone to come and fix the problem. You have money for groceries but if you spent that you wouldn’t have anything to eat. You sigh, resolving yourself to bundling up and trying to stay as warm as you can.

You pile all the blankets you have into bed and pick out only your thickest, warmest sweaters.

This is going to be miserable, you think.

The snow comes just a short week later and it feels even colder. You venture out of your flat to go to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for the dishes Simon wrote down for you and also some cans of soup that you can cook to stay warm. You also throw some boxes of tea and some hot chocolate in with it, figuring why not. Warm drinks will help.

It’s almost 3 weeks of living like that. It’s miserable and makes your bones ache from how stiff the cold makes you feel. You make sure to eat nice, hot food to keep yourself warm and make frequent cups of warm drinks so you can keep your hands warm for as long as you can. You do your best.

The worst is showers, though. When you’re standing under the blisteringly hot spray, it’s bliss. But the second you step out and your wet body is hit with the freezing air, you couldn’t have felt more miserable.

The night Simon walks through the door, he finds you bundled up on the couch sipping a cup of hot chocolate.

“Simon!” you gasp excitedly, tossing the blankets off to take a running leap at him.

He huffs contentedly when he catches you in his arms, letting you embrace him for as long as you need. He strips his mask off and brings you in for a delicate kiss.

“Let me wash up,” he mumbles, stalking through the apartment.

“Um, before you do, Si,” you catch him at the entrance to the hallway. He turns to you and looks at you with a brow raised, “The um…heating is broken so…just letting you know when you come out of the shower it’s gonna suck.”

“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” he mutters and pauses, “The fuck you mean it’s broken?”

“Heating cut off a few weeks ago…” you shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start to feel the cold creep in again.

“A few weeks ago?” he hisses, running a stressed hand through his hair, “Fuckin’ hell. You didn’t call someone to fix it?”

You pout as he raises his voice, clearly frustrated, “I couldn’t afford it, Si! I had the money you gave me for food but I wasn’t gonna spend that to get the heating fixed. You know the building manager is a piece of shit, not like he was gonna call someone.”

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly thinking something over. Then he turns on his heel and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door.

“I’m sorry, Simon!” you call through the door, “I didn’t know what else to do! Please, don’t be mad.”

The shower turns on and all you can do is look up and sigh in exasperation. The second he’s home and he’s already pissed at you.

You sulk over to the couch and flop down, tossing your blankets over you as you grab your mug. The hot chocolate is still warm but not as hot as it was. It’ll have to do.

Simon comes out of the shower, gets dressed warmly, and joins you in the living room. He doesn’t even look at you as he makes a move for his bag that he left by the door. You almost think he’s going to scoop the bag up and storm out the door. You sit up, ready to stop him but instead, he stoops down and zips it open. He pulls out his wallet and approaches you.

“What are you doing?” you mumble, watching him flip the thing open.

It’s old and worn, a simple black leather wallet. He’s had it for as long as you could remember and you’ve put the poor thing through the washer and dryer so many times that you’re shocked it's still intact.

He pulls out a bank card and promptly hands it to you. Your brain stutters to a stop as you look at it.

“Take it, fuck sake,” he mutters. He sounds annoyed but the way he looks away and his ears turn pink you can tell he’s…shy.

Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.

You take the bank card out of his hand and look at it, flipping over in your hands, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“So you can use it,” he mumbles, slamming his wallet shut and tossing it onto the table, “That way, in case anything happens you can withdraw from my account for what you need. If an emergency happens and I’m not around, use it.”

“Simon…” you mumble, looking up at him, “Are you sure..?”

“Course I’m sure,” he scoffs, taking a seat beside you before softly rattling off four digits.

“Huh?” you dumbly ask.

“It’s my pin,” he responds, grabbing one of the blankets you have piled on the couch and tossing it on his lap.

“That’s my birthday…” you say softly as you repeat the numbers over and over in your head, “Your bank pin is my birthday?”

He snatches the remote up from the table and turns the TV on without another word. But you can see how pink the tips of his ears are. It makes you beam and before you know it, you’re curling snugly into his side.

“Love you, Si,” you whisper, earning a kiss to the top of your head in response.

Simon calls the next morning to have someone come by and fix the damn heating. You listen to the man rattle off some information to Simon about what the problem was but it makes virtually no sense to you so you resolve yourself to sitting on the couch and waiting until it’s warm again.

But even when it’s nice and toasty inside, you still plaster yourself to Simon’s side, snuggling as close to him as you possibly can.

“I want you to meet my team,” Simon says one morning while he’s making some eggs.

You’re standing by the toaster, waiting for it to pop up but his words make you turn to him, “You mean 141?”

“Who else?” he huffs, flipping one of the eggs. It sizzles loudly in the pan, “They wanted me to go out with them tonight. Thought you could join us.”

“Really?” you realize how incredulous you sound and then try again, “I mean really? That’s okay with you?”

He nods, plating the eggs, “I think it’s time they met you.”

“I-I’d love to,” you say, unable to hide the excitement you feel.

You catch a slip of a smile on Simon’s face before the toast pops up and distracts you.

You have to dig into your closet that evening, after a shower, to find something nice to wear. You figure an occasion like this calls for something a little nicer than just jeans and a t-shirt like you usually wear. But you can’t find much of anything.

“What’re you huffin’ about in here?” Simon asks when he walks in, towel wrapped around his waist. He’s still dripping wet from the shower and you can feel the way your mouth fills with saliva at the sight.

“I uh…don’t know what to wear…” you respond, turning your back to him just as he slips the towel off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, imagining Simon completely naked behind you.

“Wear those nice jeans you got,” he mumbles, grunting as he gets himself dressed, “And that little blue top you got.”

“The cropped one?” you ask incredulously, a brow raised as you turn to him. He’s got some jeans on now and he’s meticulously unfolding a black t-shirt so he can put it on, “I haven’t worn that in a while, how’d you even remember it?”

He shrugs, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement before he tosses the shirt over his head and pulls it down, covering his skin once again, “It’s cute. We’re just goin’ to the pub, love.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching into the back of your closet to pull the little shirt out, “If you’re sure this will be okay.”

“I’m sure,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his balaclava off the dresser. But he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead, he sits on the bed and watches you change.

You’re acutely aware of his eyes on you as you strip your shirt off. You keep your back to him, trying to ignore your racing heart. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all, instead you feel…excited.

Your mind runs wild, imagining him stepping up behind you, kissing your neck and cupping your bare breasts in his big hands. They’re a little rough from his line of work and you wonder what they’d feel like against the sensitive skin of your tits, thumbing your nipples and pinching them a little meanly.

“C-Can you hand me a bra?” you find yourself asking.

He grunts in acknowledgement and the bed creaks when his weight moves off it. He opens one of the drawers and is behind you in a second. His body heat permeates through his shirt as he presses his chest against your back.

He slings your bra over your shoulder, holding it with one finger by the strap. You can’t help but tilt your head back to look up at him. He’s towering over you, pretty, brown eyes looking down his nose at you.

You realize in this position, he could clearly see your breasts but he keeps his eyes on yours. You take the bra from him and he lets you, simply staring into your eyes with that stern silence he has about him.

“T-Thanks…” you find yourself whispering, mouth feeling particularly dry.

He grunts, lips quirked up just a bit before he turns his back and walks back to the bed. You let out a quiet, slow breath, willing your heart rate to go back to normal.

Simon was so exhilarating. Just being around him sets your heart racing and fingers trembling.

You put your bra on and slip your top over your head, ignoring the sticky feeling in your panties as you do.

“I don’t know, Si,” you mutter, turning to face him, “I-It’s a little tight on me now.”

The fabric once hugged you nicely but now it was snug. It molded around your breasts, even showing the lines of your bra. The neckline was low, giving a good show of cleavage – it didn’t help that Simon picked one of your more well padded bras.

Simon looks up, his eyes immediately falling to your breasts. He sucks in a quick breath and looks away, licking his lips.

“Looks fine,” he mutters, standing to pull one of the drawers open again. He searches for a second, brows furrowed until he pulls out the jeans he was talking about. The ‘nice jeans’ as he called them, were just some low rise jeans you’d only worn about 4 times.

You look dumbly at them as he drops them into your hands.

“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”

He quiets you with a kiss to your forehead, “Trust me, love.”

He steps out of the room after that, leaving you to your own devices. You’re thankful that you can change your panties without him seeing how saturated and sticky they’ve become because of him. You bury them in the laundry basket and remind yourself that you should do the laundry before he does because you’d be mortified if he found them.

You don’t even look at yourself in the mirror, afraid you’ll feel too self-conscious if you see what you look like. But you trust Simon’s judgment on what he thinks would look good on you – and you can’t deny that dressing up how he likes feels nice.

You step into the living room, intent on pulling your shoes on when Simon catches you with an arm around your waist. You gasp as he turns you to face him.

“You look lovely,” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your sides, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke your skin.

You swallow thickly as your heart starts racing in your chest again. He leans down and pecks your lips but pulls back before you have the chance to kiss back.

“Let’s go,” is all he adds before walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow like the lovesick puppy you are.

Walking into the bar, your heart pounds painfully in your chest from pure anxiety. Your hand is clasped tightly in Simon’s as he easily moves through the crowd. You suppose his height makes it easy to see over people.

“You alright?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Haven’t been in a bar since I worked at…” you trail off, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“If you wanna leave, just say the word,” he mutters, giving your hand a squeeze.

“N-No,” you shake your head, shooting him a wobbly smile,”I wanna meet your team at least.”

He smiles reassuringly and gives your hand a tug to encourage you to follow him. He leads you right to a table situated in a corner, three men laughing and drinking.

“There he is!” the one with the mohawk cheeks, holding up his pint in celebration.

“Shut up, Soap,” Simon grumbles petulantly as he pulls out a chair for you.

Soap, you note to yourself. You know them by name but you’ve never actually seen the faces to put to them. Soap looks like you imagined, a broad grin and pretty, bright eyes – you imagined them green but they’re blue.

“And who is this lovely companion of yours, Simon?” an older man with a hat and mutton chops asks with a kind smile, eyes on you.

Simon says your name before he sits down with a grunt beside you.

“Price,” your boyfriend supplies when you look curiously at him.

The man in question holds out a hand which you take and softly shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Had no idea Lt. had someone waitin’ for him at home,” Soap says, a teasing lilt in his voice.

So you’ve met Soap, Price, and that leaves; your eyes land on the quiet guy sitting back in his chair, a cool smile on his lips. He meets your gaze and his smile broadens – not teasing like Soap’s but purely kind.

“You can call me Kyle,” he gives you a polite nod.

“Gaz, then?” you question, tilting your head to the side. Kyle looks surprised, eyes flicking to Simon who shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “He’s talked about all of you before. I only know your call signs though.”

“John will do fine if you’d like,” Price says, tipping his beer back to take a chug.

“Simon calls me Johnny,” Soap adds, “You’re welcome to as well. Anyone important to the Lieutenant is important to us.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Simon roll his eyes. It makes you smile. He leans over, nudging you with his knee, “You want anything to drink? I need one.”

“No thank you, Si,” you reply, intent on having a clear head for the night. You’ve never been much of a drinker anyway.

When Simon’s gone from the table, you suddenly feel incredibly out of place. Price and Kyle have the decency to not stare you down but Soap seems keen on keeping his baby blue’s right on you and a goofy little smile on his face.

“Um…” you shift uncomfortably as you look back at him.

“We’ve never gotten to meet anyone from Ghost’s private life before,” Soap says, saving you from having to think of what to say, “Just shocked s’all.”

“You’re gonna start giving the poor thing the creeps with your ugly mug,” Kyle chuckles which also makes Soap laugh.

“Sorry about that,” Soap lifts his glass and cheers to you before tipping it back.

He grimaces slightly as it goes down before slamming his glass back on the table.

“It’s alright,” you respond, “Si’s not really the open book kind. So I understand.”

“How long have the two of you known each other?” Kyle asks.

You find yourself wondering where the hell Simon even is but answer regardless, “Since we were kids. Um, we lived next door. His mom and mine were friends, I guess.”

Soap nods his head, elbows on the table as he gives you his full attention, “You guess?”

You hum, “I’m 3 years younger than Simon. The way it was told to me by my mom is that…his mom came over and,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as you recalled the story.

“Oh this has got to be good,” Soap nudged Kyle excitedly at your grin.

“Told my mom that Simon didn’t have any friends and that he was a…soft-hearted boy and she wanted him to have some friends,” you giggle, holding a hand in front of your face to hide your laughter, “So she wanted to set up playdates with me even though I was still a baby. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Soap tosses his head back and laughs, “No fuckin’ way.”

“I’m shocked to say it but that actually makes him sound cute,” Kyle adds, unable to hide the laughter in his voice either.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Price says, but there’s a smile on his face, “Simon’ll knock you out cold on this table.”

“So you and Simon have been together since?” Kyle asks, glass cupped in both hands.

You nod, “Only time we’ve been apart is when he enlisted and had to go off for a few years to train.”

Soap opens his mouth to say something but a large figure finally drops down into the seat next to you. Simon has a glass of bourbon and a glass that he slides over to Soap who catches it with ease.

“Thanks, Lt,” he nods, taking a sip before making that disgusted face again.

“What are you lot talkin’ about?” Simon asks, drumming his fingers against his glass.

“We were discussin’ all your dirty secrets,” Kyle teases with a charming grin.

“Nothin’ too damning I hope,” Simon huffs before he takes a large gulp of his drink.

The other three men all hide their grins behind their glasses.

The anxiety you had felt at the beginning of the night is long gone. The task force is full of jokes and laughs and even Simon seems like a different person.

With you, he’s kind and even soft. He’s by no means gentle or patient.

But this side of Simon is so jovial and comfortable that it warms your heart to see. He drinks a few glasses and by the end of the night, he’s got a relaxed, lidded look in his eyes that lets you know he’s got a bit of a buzz going on.

“It was lovely to meet you,” Price says when you all walk out of the bar.

“I really enjoyed meeting all of you as well,” you smile, letting Simon tuck you into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Get him home safe,” Soap teases, your smile only widening when you hear Simon huff in annoyance.

You bid goodbye to the three of them and make your way to the car with Simon, plucking his keys out of his hand and forcing him into the passenger seat despite his grumbled protests of how ‘he’s not that drunk’.

When the two of you finally get into your apartment, you let him lock up and turn out the lights while you go to the bedroom and get ready for bed.

“You looked really nice tonight,” Simon mutters when he finally walks in as you crawl into bed, “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I’m glad they liked me,” you huff, leaning back into the pillows, “They were all really nice guys.”

“Yeah,” Simon hums, tugging his shirt off of his head, taking his mask with it, “They’re good people.”

You nod your head and tuck your knees to your chest while he gets undressed. He slips on a plaid pair of pajama pants and shoves the drawer closed with his hip before yanking the blanket back to make room for his large body.

You bounce a little on the bed when he drops his weight onto it. He smacks his pillow a couple times before he lays back and sighs. It’s clear he’s still a little buzzed from the way he fights to keep his eyes open.

“Simon?” you ask, turning to face him.

That makes his eyes open back up before he looks at you, “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

He snorts and it makes you smile. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of your head. You let him tug you down, pressing your hands against his firm chest as you kiss him.

His hand travels down your back as he sighs into your mouth. You pull away briefly to look into his eyes before you kiss him again, this time deepening it as much as you’re able. Simon sighs contentedly, his other hand coming up to caress your arm.

“I like kissin’ you…” you find yourself whispering against his lips.

He groans at that, the sound going straight to your core. You feel yourself clench around nothing, already starting to leak into your panties.

“Yeah?” he coos, cupping your cheek, thumbing over your lips, “You can kiss me all you want, love.”

You whimper, surging down to kiss him again. His hands grip your waist, intermittently squeezing you, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

Suddenly, you feel the warm, slick slide of his tongue against your lips. You whimper and pull back, brows furrowed.

“Shh, love,” he coos, pulling you close again, “Jus’ relax and let me…”

You huff, struggling to catch your breath as he urges you to meet his lips again. You feel his tongue again and eagerly open your mouth, letting him taste the inside of your mouth. You shyly meet his tongue with yours and feel his grip on your waist tighten as he groans in his throat.

You’re sure you’ve soaked well through your panties by now. There’s an ache in your clit that you long to reach down and relieve – or better yet, have Simon relieve.

You bet his fingers would feel so damn good against you. You find yourself whimpering into the kiss at the thought alone. Simon lets out a husky laugh into your mouth before pulling away.

A string of spit connects your lips before it breaks and vanishes.

With a surge of confidence, you toss your leg over his waist. He grunts when your weight settles on his hips, on his cock. It’s chubbed up against his thigh from kissing you and he knows you can feel it.

“What’re you doin’, baby?” he huffs, unable to stop his hands from traveling up the front of your body.

You grab his wrist and boldly slide it under the hem of your shirt. He bites his lip to keep from moaning when he feels your bare breast fill his palm. You see the way his eyes start to roll back before he looks at you again. It makes you throb in your panties and you can’t resist grinding against him a little before he grabs your waist and stops you.

“Si…” you whimper, pressing your hands against his chest, “‘S wrong?”

“Can’t,” he clears his throat and sinks into the bed, “Can’t do this, love.”

“Why not?” you ask, feeling a pit of disappointment in your gut, “You don’t want to? I just thought…”

You feel your face burn with humiliation as you slide off of his lap. Simon lets you, simply laying there on his back, eyes closed and a knit between his brows, as he evens his breathing out. You fight back tears as you sit there, biting the inside of your lip anxiously.

“Not…not tonight, sweetheart,” he finally says, reaching over to pet your hair, “Been drinkin’ ‘nd I want to be sober for it, yeah?”

It would have been a solid excuse if it didn’t sound so flimsy coming from his lips. Like he doesn’t even believe it himself.

“Yeah…” you offer, giving him a wobbly smile before turning out the light.

You’re too embarrassed to cuddle into him that night.

“Can I ask you something?” you find yourself muttering as you relax on the couch with him, watching some old movie he picked out, “As long as you promise not to get mad.”

He snorts, taking a sip of his tea, “Won’t get mad.”

“I just want to know…” you clear your throat and sit up straight a little more, going over the question in your head, “Why did you leave that night…leave like that, just to have sex?”

He tenses up immediately, you can feel it. He shifts where he sits, spreading his legs just a little wider so he can sink deeper into the couch, “We already talked about this.”

You wince at his clipped tone, knowing you’re stepping into dangerous territory, “I know but…I want to know the real reason.”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs, keeping his eyes trained on the TV, “You think I was lyin’ to you?”

Now he sounds mad. You quickly shake your head, “No, Si. I-I’m not trying to start a fight, I swear. I don’t think you were lying. I just think you…weren’t telling me everything.”

He sighs. You can see the way his jaw ticks when he clenches it, “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, scooting a little closer to him, placing your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt down a bit, “It was just…out of character for you, Si. I was really upset and you knew that. It wasn’t like you to just…leave. Just to get laid.”

He finally looks at you, just out of the corner of his eye. You meet the look, offering him an encouraging smile to show that you’re not upset or anything.

“All night,” he finally mutters, “You’d been kickin’ in your sleep. Kept wakin’ me up.”

You nodded, a look of confusion on your face. You had no idea where this was going.

“You started sayin’ my name,'' he continued, “Moanin’ my name. Fuck, it was drivin’ me crazy.”

Your face flushes hot when you hear that. It all suddenly comes rushing back to you – what you’d been dreaming about.

“You threw your leg over mine and I could–” he cuts himself off, his throat moving with how hard he swallows.

“Could what?” your voice comes out shockingly breathy.

He catches it, looking at you. You can see the way his pupils widen immediately when he meets your gaze. It’s like he can see right through you, see the fact you’re dripping into your panties again. Just from this conversation alone.

“I could feel how fuckin’ wet you were,” he brings a shaky hand up and runs it through his hair before he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Couldn’t fuckin’ deal with it. I had to…let it out somehow.”

“So you knew that I wanted you…like that?” you find yourself asking.

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Didn’t think about it like that. Figured it was just a dream and that’s all it was.”

“Wasn’t just a dream,” you assure, scooting closer to him.

Simon’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over him, resting your hand on the arm rest on his other side, letting it support your weight. You stand on your knees, making you just a little taller than him before you lean down and kiss him.

He remains completely still, like he’s processing. His hands flounder in the air for a second before he’s carefully pushing you to sit back down. You slump against your heels and look at him, perturbed.

“Why..?”

“I need to make dinner,” he says lamely.

“Simon…” you admonish, knowing he’s lying.

He gets up, knees cracking as he does. He winces a little bit before he bends down to pick up the blanket that fell to the floor when he stood. You kept your eyes on him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You almost let him go but before you can stop him, you grab his arm.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon,” you mutter, “I keep trying to make things go further with you but I just keep making a fool of myself and I–”

“‘S not you,” he assures softly, taking your hand in his, “‘S all me, baby.”

“So why…” you frown, “I want you.”

He shakes his head, “Night you told me how you felt. You sounded scared.”

You remember, the way his touch had made anxiety fill you. You had wanted him, of course, but for some reason it had just been so damn awful at the same time. You hadn’t really dwelled on why that was.

“It wasn’t ‘cause of you, Si,” you assured, shifting so your feet were on the floor rather than under you, “I promise. I-I was just nervous, I think. That’s all.”

“I don’t want…” he licks his lips, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully before he says them slowly, “I don’t to hear you sound like that with me again. ‘S why I’ve been avoidin’ it. ‘Cause I don’t want you to get scared again.”

You shake your head, rising to your feet, stepping in front of him. You take his hands in yours and squeeze them, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself with you, Simon.”

He frowns, “You know I would never think poorly of you.”

You smile and shrug, “I know that. I think…that time was just…too soon. After that night at the bar and everything that happened. And then the fact I’m so inexperienced that it’s laughable. I think…I just wasn’t ready for it. I needed to go at my own pace and I have been.”

“I don’t want you to push yourself,” he hums, “I know that night at the bar was terrifying,” he brings a hand up to brush over your cheek, “I understand if you’re not goin’ to be ready for a long time. It’s normal to not be ready after what happened to you.”

You huff, “I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve been ready for a while now, Si. I was anxious at first, yes. But now it’s…like a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he mutters, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer. Your breath hitches in your throat and you nod dumbly, “Tell me all about it.”

“L-Like my heart races,” you breathe, “And I feel scared that I’m gonna do something silly and embarrassing but like I want to learn and…and I want to do good for you.”

“Fuck,” Simon groans, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, “Can’t say shit like that to a man like me, love.”

“Why not?” you whimper, feeling your knees tremble in excitement when you feel his hands start to wander.

“‘Cause…” he whispers, running his hands up your sides, “Makes me think some nasty shit, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly at the promise in his voice, “Simon…”

You sound so wrecked already and it makes him moan softly in your ear, “Tell me about it, baby.”

Just like that, you’re spilling your guts to him, “Get so wet for you, Si, all the time. I want you so bad that it hurts.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, finally pulling his head from where he was hiding in your shoulder, tilting your chin up, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Hm? Right in that needy little cunt?”

You whimper immediately, looking up at him with wide, hazy eyes and nod, “T-Tried to touch myself. Thinkin’ about you made it hurt so I couldn’t help myself. Thought about you when I did.”

He hums as you babble to him but his mind latches onto one particular word, “Tried, baby? What do you mean "tried?”

Your cheeks burn hot at the slip up. Would he think you were silly for it?

“C-Can’t do it right,” you confess softly, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed you are, “Try so hard but n-nothin’ ever happens.”

Simon moans at that. Loud and unbridled, “What’re you sayin’, baby? That you can’t make yourself cum, s’that it?” You shake your head bashfully, “Fuckin’ hell. That’s adorable.”

“D-Don’t tease me, Si,” you whimper but the seat of your panties is so fucking wet that it’s sticking to you.

He hums, a predatory smile spreads across his face, “Am I bein’ mean, love?” You nod your head, tearfully staring up at him. It only makes his smile widen, canines popping out, “‘M sorry. Can’t help myself when you tell me ‘bout how you touch your pretty little pussy and just can’t make yourself cum like you need. Think I can do it for you, hm? Want me to try and make you cum?”

You vigorously nod your head, uncaring how fucking needy you look to him. He’s offering to give you what you’ve wanted for years – to give you a real, honest to God orgasm. And you weren’t going to let this chance slip away.

“Want you on the bed,” he suddenly whispers, “On your back, lose the pants but keep everything else on.”

With a jerk of his head in the direction of the bedroom, you take off. You hear him chuckle behind you at your excitement. He makes sure the door is locked before he heads back to the bedroom.

You’re there just like he asked, pants pooled on the floor, leaving you in nothing but an old t-shirt of his and a pair of the cutest little lilac colored panties he’s seen. You’ve got your knees pinned together, clenching your thighs but laying perfectly still in waiting for him.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he praises, grinning when you whimper and tremble at his words, “Oh, sweet thing likes to be praised, huh?”

You nod your head, “Wanna be good for you, Si.”

“That’s sweet, baby,” he coos, reaching to the back of his collar so he can tug his shirt off of his head.

Your heart hammers away in your chest when he crawls onto the bed, hands on either side of your head. He looks so big like this, on top of you, completely blocking any view you had of your ceiling and instead filling your viewline with just him. He leans down and kisses you, humming contentedly when you eagerly kiss back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he uses one hand to tug your legs open so he can slot himself between them.

You cry out when he presses himself against your core. He’s wearing nothing but his jeans but you can feel the heat radiating through the thick material.

“Shit, look at that,” he whispers, leaning back on his heels to admire the nice little wet patch that has stained your panties, “You already this wet, baby?”

“Kissin’ you always makes me this wet, Si,” you sweetly confess and oh, you are just so precious.

His hands slide up your stomach, moving your t-shirt up and up until it sits crumpled under your chin. Your tits are bare and move with every gasping breath that you take.

Simon’s hands are just as rough and warm as you’d expect them to be. His thumbs come up and glide over your nipples until they harden into stiff little peaks for him.

Then his mouth is wrapping around one, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a lewd pop. His hand pinches the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he listens to you whimper and sigh.

“Please, Si,” you whine, “I-It hurts, please.”

“It hurts?” he hums, leaving a fleeting kiss against the nipple his tongue was torturing just a moment ago, “Where? Hm?”

His hand travels down your body, cupping your cunt through your panties. You gasp, arching your hips just a bit to grind against his palm. He lets you, before he meanly pins your hips down with his other hand.

“Where, love?” he smooths the pad of his thumb over the seam of your cunt through your panties. The fabric is saturated with your slick, letting him see every part of you through shape alone. His thumb finds your clit, the little bud poking out through the fabric from how hard and swollen it's become, “Here? ‘S it your pretty clit that hurts, love?”

You nod, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses his thumb against the bud, trapping it under his finger so he can roll mean little circles over it. You’d be mindlessly rutting your hips by now if he didn’t have his other arm slung over your hips to keep you pinned nice and still like he wants.

It already feels so different than when you touched yourself. Maybe because it’s him or maybe because he’s so experienced.

That thought makes you equal parts jealous and equal parts turned on. He’d slept with plenty of people but now he was using that expertise to make you feel good.

“Can you take them off, please?” you whine, pitchy and sweet from arousal.

“Asked so sweetly for me,” he coos, hitching his thumbs into the band of your panties before giving them a firm tug.

You quickly lift your hips, letting him tug them down and off of your feet. You expect him to toss them away but instead he holds them up, thumbing over the slickness in the crotch. You watch him with wide eyes as he analyzes it. Your breath hitches when he suddenly brings them towards his face and licks a wide stripe of the fabric, moaning when he gets a good laste of your syrupy sweet slick.

“Simon!” you gasp – admonish, leaning up to snatch them out of his grasp.

His eyes open, he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, to look at you. He licks his lips like a dog licking its chops when it tastes something real delicious.

He doesn’t even comment on what he just did or the pure embarrassment that is written all over your face. Instead, he grips underneath your knees and yanks you down the bed towards him so your hips are situated in his lap.

“Jus’ let me touch you, love,” he whispers, “I’ll work a nice little orgasm out of you in no time, yeah?”

You nod your head because you trust him. You know he’s going to be able to give you what you need so badly. You don’t even question it – especially when you feel how good it feels when he uses his thumbs to spread your folds open for him. He groans when he sees the sticky strings of slick that display just how turned on you are.

Pretty little hole clenching sporadically around nothing, dribbling more creamy arousal that makes his tongue feel like lead in his mouth. A pretty clit that twitches and throbs under his scrutinizing gaze. But you make no move to cover yourself and hide from his gaze.

He finally touches the bud directly and it’s like electricity strikes through you. You lose control of your body as your back arches and your thighs violently twitch. Your cheeks burn when you hear him chuckle softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive,” he huffs, a crooked little grin on his face as he brushes his thumb over your clit again, garnering the same reaction as before from you, “Fuck, can’t believe you’re this sensitive and can’t make yourself cum.”

“‘S cause it’s you, Si,” you sweetly confess.

And it’s true. Having him touch you like this directly – feeling his callused skin over the most sensitive little part of you is euphoric. It doesn’t feel anything like when you touch yourself at all. It feels magnified, you feel like a live wire and everything feels like too much. But you don’t do anything to impede him because you trust him more than anything – especially like this, with your body.

He replaced his thumb with his middle finger, prodding at your entrance. You almost think he’s going to press inside you but he doesn’t – instead, he gathers your slick up on his finger and drags it up to your clit. He softly circles the bud, cock kicking against his thigh when you sigh and croon so sweetly for him.

Your cunt makes sticky noises as he continues doing this, gathering your arousal and lathering your precious bud up with it so he can so softly play with it. His touches aren’t enough to actually work you to the edge, it’s much too slow and soft but it feels good. He waits for you to relax against the bed, lashes fluttering as you whimper and twitch on the bed for him.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh, “Relax f’me. Want you nice and soft for me so I can get my fingers in this tight little cunt.”

You gasp at that, partly in excitement and also in apprehension. You’ve never actually put anything inside yourself before – except once, you put your finger in and it burned so you never tried it again.

“D-Dont…” you find yourself muttering, making him freeze. He thinks you’ve changed your mind, anxiety getting the better of you and he’s fully prepared to propel himself away from you at a moment's notice, “Be gentle, okay?”

His gaze softens when he looks at you, “Won’t hurt you, love. I promise.”

You remain relaxed for him when he carefully prods you with his middle finger. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, not rubbing it or anything, just keeping a nice pressure that keeps you sagged against the pillows.

It doesn’t feel anything like when you tried that one time with yourself. Everything is so much wetter and more pliant. It’s like your walls just suck the digit in, even though it’s so much bigger than your own finger.

You sigh softly when you finally have something to clench around. Simon gives you a sweet kiss to the spot right underneath your belly button in silent praise. He keeps his lidded, brown eyes on your face, watching every little expression you make with rapt attention.

He slowly and carefully fucks his middle finger into you, feeling the way you slowly relax around him, soaking his skin with your arousal. He smooths his free hand up the length of your body, abandoning your clit to wrap his palm around your breast. You place your own hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder.

“How’s that feel, love?” he asks, still sliding his finger in and out of you.

“Okay…” you reply, keeping your hand over his on your chest, “But it…um…”

“What?” he urges, “Tell me what you feel.”

“I-It feels nice but…” you trail off and he hums, nodding his head.

“Doesn’t feel good?” he finishes for you. You nod your head and he laughs softly, “I know, baby. Jus’ tryin’ to get you used to the feeling and then I’ll make it feel real good, alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper but he can tell you’re not too convinced that it’s going to feel much better.

You’re worried that the same thing is going to happen – it’ll feel really good and then you’re never going to be able to climb over that wall. You hate to imagine disappointing him, failing to get off. You’d hate for him to put all this work in and you just can’t cum in the end.

“Hey,” he coos, “Get out of your head, pretty. Don’t worry about a thing, alright?”

You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, allowing yourself to relax against the bed again. Simon waits for you to be nice and pliant around his finger before he starts to fit his ring finger alongside it. He catches sight of the furrow in your brow when he stretches you around two of his fingers. It burns but when Simon brings his thumb back to your clit, tapping against the bud, it vanishes. Your thighs twitch and you whimper, walls clenching in time with the little taps until the burning vanishes completely.

“There we are,” he praises, “Knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“A-Are you gonna add another?” you find yourself asking.

“Later,” he responds, scissoring the two fingers he has snug inside your cunt, “‘M a big man, love. Gonna need you nice and stretched for me.”

You whimper at that, walls clenching around his fingers as he slowly begins to fuck them in and out of you. Your cheeks burn when you hear the loud, squishing noises your hole makes every time he stuffs them back inside.

After a moment of just getting you used to being stretched on two of his thick digits, he suddenly crooks them up and hits something inside you that makes your back arch. It causes a tingling feeling that you’ve never experienced to heat your tummy every time he touches it.

“Simon!” you squeal, trying to clench your thighs closed but his broad shoulders keep them open, “Th-That feels-!”

“I know, baby,” he coos cockily, grinding his fingertips against that little spot that makes you so gooey and creamy around his fingers, “Feels real good right there, I know.”

Your back arches and your jaw drops. You can’t do anything but moan and cry out as he fucks against that spot. He’s urged on by your sounds of pure pleasure, eyes flicking between where he’s got your pretty cunt spread open and the euphoric expressions you can’t do anything to hide.

It’s so precious, seeing you so open and loud for him. You don’t do anything to hide your sounds of pleasure nor do you even think of faking any of them for his sake. Every little thing you’re feeling, you express, and you can’t help yourself because it’s all so new and so much.

That hot, tingling feeling in your core only intensifies with every experienced stroke of his fingers. Your eyes are rolling back every time he touches that magnificent spot inside you, abusing it with his fingers until your walls are soft and malleable for him again.

And then he brings his index finger into it. He’s even more slow and careful as he fits it in beside the other two fingers. It doesn’t burn like when he had given you his second finger but it’s a certain stretch that simply feels strange.

He gets you stuffed open on his three fingers, up to the third knuckle. You’re spread so wide and squeeze his fingers so tight that it makes him moan when he thinks about what it will feel like around his cock.

If you’re this tight around just his fingers then you’re going to feel positively euphoric around him.

“Simon…” you coo, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair.

He grunts in acknowledgement, but is unwilling to part his gaze from the sight of the creamy mess you’ve begun to leave on his fingers. Your pretty clit is twitching and so swollen, glistening from your juices and he suddenly has the inescapable desire to wrap his mouth around it.

You’re not even looking when he decides to do it. It’s like he can’t stop himself.

All you feel is something wet and hot wrap around the little bud. You practically wail at the feeling of his tongue sliding against it. Your feet kick aimlessly, hitting his back and shoulders as you flail beneath his body.

You sob his name, yanking harshly on his hair in a way that hurts but he’s not going to stop you. He knows it’s mean to do this, not even warning you or easing you into the feeling before he’s suckling your clit. His tongue slips in circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His ears practically ring from how loud you’re crying out for him.

His three fingers remain buried inside you but he’s hardly able to move them from how tight you’re squeezing them. All he can do is grind his fingers against your g-spot but it only makes your pretty body more twitchy and makes you squirm even more beneath him. He has to hold you down so you can’t get away.

He doesn’t want your precious pussy to be ripped away from him, your juices are making his taste buds tingle – you taste so damn good.

That familiar heat begins to grow in your core – one you’ve experienced many times before by yourself. You cry and wail for him, sobbing his name and gripping his hair.

“S-Si, don’t stop, please, please, please–” you choke on your own cries, slamming your head into the pillows as your back arches painfully hard.

He grunts lowly, blonde lashes fluttering as he watches your body’s pure, unfiltered reactions to this pleasure. He knows you’re getting close, can feel you clenching around him and your clit pulsing on his tongue in time with your heartbeat.

You feel yourself reaching that wall, the one you can never overcome. But it feels different this time, the pleasure isn’t slowing. It’s not fading like it always does when you’ve got your own fingers on your bud.

It always seems to slip out of your grasp by this point.

This is it, you think. You’re going to cum. You’re finally going to fucking cum.

Then everything stops.

His tongue is gone from your clit and his fingers are nowhere to be found. Simon’s shoulders rise and fall as he watches your face flicker through a range of emotions before your eyes fill with tears and you look at him – utterly pitiful and hopeless.

“Wh-Why…” you finally whisper, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.

Your cunt pulses and throbs around nothing, the heat of your orgasm quickly dissipating, leaving that horribly empty and unsatisfying feeling in its wake.

“Sorry, baby,” he coos, genuine and soft as he leans up to kiss your face, “That was mean, huh? ‘M sorry. Jus’ want you to have your first orgasm on a cock, love.”

That doesn’t do anything to quell your disappointment but you nod anyway, wiping away some stray tears that trickle from your eyes.

“Please,” you breathlessly whisper, “Please, Simon. Want your cock, please. I-I was so close. It felt so good,” you start babbling, eyes falling to the hard outline of his cock in his jeans, “I wanna cum so bad, Si. Y-You promised. Please, just give me your cock. Please? Please? Simon!”

Simon’s mouth goes dry as he hears your babbled begging. Fuck, you’re absolutely aching for it. All you can think about is cumming. He never thought he’d get to hear you beg for him like this, so pathetically. You should be embarrassed, begging for cock like this when you’ve only just now gotten your first taste of being stretched open. Yet here you are fuckin’ crying for it.

His cock drools pre down his thigh, he can feel how wet his boxers have become from how much he’s leaking it. He’s aching in his jeans – he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it just as badly as you do.

“Shit, alright!” he snarls, wrapping a hand around your throat to force you to look at him. You gasp at the rough treatment, “Jus’ shut up and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”

You obediently nod your head, still staring up at him with those wide, teary eyes. He tries to act like his hands aren’t fucking trembling when he yanks his belt off. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this needy – this excited to get his cock inside a pussy.

But it’s you. You’re special.

He loves you. This isn’t like the one night stands and hookups he’s had in the past. This is different.

He feels like a fumbling teenager the way he clumsily yanks his belt out of the loops and shoves his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock, big and heavy, hangs under its own weight – it never slaps up against his stomach. He wasn’t just chatting shit when he said he was a big guy.

He wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a few, firm tugs. He feels your eyes on him, watching the way he touches himself and it sends heat through him. He scoots closer to you again, pulling back his foreskin to show the fat, leaky head that he meanly taps against your clit.

You gasp a cute little ‘ah!’ when he does that brings a smile to his face. He can’t say he’s the best lay for a virgin because he’s so big and he’s a brute – it’s in his nature. But he’s trying his best for you.

“Alright, baby,” he coos, leaning on one forearm above your head, draping his big body over yours. He easily manhandles you into position, caging your knees against your chest and wrapping himself around you, “Just relax for me, hm? Can you do that f’me?”

You nod your head and shakily put your hands on his shoulders, cupping his jaw to bring him down to kiss you. He sighs into your lips, using his free hang to grip the base of his cock, prodding against your hole. You’re so slippery that it slides out of you and slips up your clit. You whimper at the feeling, thighs twitching at the stimulation.

When he finally starts to press inside, your nails bite into his shoulders. It stings – it hurts. He’s so big, making your poor little cunt burn the deeper he presses himself. The head pops in and your hips jump at the feeling, his cock slipping back out.

He huffs, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, “Fuck, sit still.”

“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Shh,” he sighs, kissing your cheek, “‘S okay, baby. Hurts, huh?”

“A little,” you whimper, trying to downplay it so he won’t stop.

He hums and presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He knows that working an orgasm out of you before making you take his cock would be the nice thing to do but he’s selfish. He wants to feel your orgasm around his cock – where you deserve to have it.

It’s your very first orgasm after all. It needs to be good and he knows he can make it real good once he can get you speared on his cock.

So he grips himself again, sitting up for just a moment to lewdly spit on your pussy. It hits your clit and trickles down where he catches it with the head of his cock. He leans over your body and starts to push in again. This time he tucks his arms under your shoulders and pins you impossibly against him, leaving you with nowhere to run when he starts to press into you.

You whimper, feet kicking against his back when he pushes deeper than before – past the head. He knows it hurts, you’re stretched beyond your limit and he waits with bated breath for you to say the word and tell him to stop.

But you don’t.

You just grapple your arms around his waist and dig your nails in. His skin is sweaty by now and it makes getting any purchase on him difficult. You let out a watery little whimper that has him freezing. You’re speared on half his cock when he finally looks at you.

Your eyes are teary and they slowly drip down your cheeks.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, brushing some away with his thumb.

You immediately shake your head, no hesitation, “No! K-Keep goin’, Si.”

“Don’t cry, pretty,” he shushes, keeping his grip under your shoulders and his hips pinned firmly against yours so you can’t squirm when he starts pressing in again. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering from the ache that settles where he’s stretching you wide, “‘S okay, just take a deep breath. ‘M almost in, love, you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me. Takin’ all of my cock so deep, just like you deserve. Hear me? This cock s’all yours now, yeah? Can have it whenever you need it.”

Your walls spasm around his cock as he talks, making him groan low in his chest. He’s almost there, can feel his balls starting to tap against you the deeper he gets until finally, his hips meet yours and you wail.

He prods painfully against your cervix and he knows that it’s uncomfortable but he’s not willing to pull back just yet. He needs you to get used to being stretched and stuffed full of every inch of him. He takes care to do slow, gentle grinds, his pelvis catching your clit that eventually makes you relax.

“That’s it,” he praises, “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

He finally eases off of you, balancing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, hovering over you. He slowly pulls his hips back, watching you slump against the bed when he finally stops pressing on your cervix.

He finally starts fucking you, sliding his cock out just a bit before rolling his hips forward again. It's slow and soft, just testing the waters and getting you used to this new stimulation.

It feels entirely different from his fingers. His cock is bigger, fills you so much more, touches deeper.

His cock reaches spots deep inside you that his fingers didn’t even reach. But he’s permanently pressing against that spot his fingers were torturing. It feels so fucking good.

Simon can see the way your eyes roll back as he carefully fucks you. Your first cock and you’re taking it so damn well. It makes him want to see how much more you can take but he knows he needs to ease you into it, he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“Si…” you sigh softly, blinking as you struggle not to float off and become drunk with pleasure.

“I know, pretty,” he coos, kissing your cheek before leaning back on his heels, fastening the thrusts of his hips.

You can’t keep quiet now, mouth falling open to let out the most precious sounds of pure pleasure. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you. His cock fucking throbs at the look of wonder that crosses your face. He knows you’re getting close, can feel how tight you’re clamping around him and he can see how much you’re creaming around him – making a mess at the base of his cock and in the thatch of curls there.

“You gonna cum?” he coos, grinning when you shake your head, “Of course you are. I can fuckin’ feel it, baby. Know you got one for me, go ahead. Cum on my cock real nice, c’mon.”

“C-Can’t,” you whimper. It’s too much. You’re so wet. It’s fucking messy but you feel yourself at that damn wall, hanging on a thread and waiting for euphoria to come but it doesn’t, “Please! Simon! Please, I-I can’t! Please, please, please…”

“Fuck,” his hisses when he hears you begging to cum on his cock, “Come on then, baby. You can do it. Just let it go, let me fuck it outta you.”

You toss your head back into the pillows as a sob is ripped from your chest. As if he can sense how much you’re struggling, he brings his thumb down to press against your clit. Your eyes fucking roll, only the whites of them visible. You clench down around him like a vice and it only takes a couple little swipes of his thumb for you to tumble over the edge.

It feels unlike anything you could have ever imagined. Pleasure soars through you and your hearing cuts out. It feels like you lose control of your body, unable to do anything but thrash and twitch as he fucks you through it. You’re not sure if you would prefer him to stop or keep going because it’s all so fucking much that it hurts.

You’re gushing around him, drenching his cock in sticky, creamy cum that drips in thick strings down his balls. Holy fuck.

It feels like hours that you’re speared on his cock, cumming and cumming before it finally leaves you and you collapse against the bed. You’re still twitching, entire body shivering until he finally slows his thrusts to soft little rolls of his hips. He takes his thumb off of your clit and you’re thankful because it was starting to become unpleasant.

You swallow despite how dry your mouth is, eyes finally focusing on him. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. Pretty, brown eyes are locked on you and you suddenly feel shy.

Had he been watching you the whole time? You hoped you didn’t make any ugly faces or embarrassing noises.

“Fuck,” he coos, seemingly sensing your shame, “That was a fuckin’ orgasm, love.”

You’re panting, you realize. And you’re tired. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life.

All you can think is that you’ve been missing out on that your whole life? Now you’re not sure you’ll be able to even live without it ever again.

Simon’s hands cup under your knees and pin them to your chest. You gasp as he bends you as he sees fit. You’re limp, so completely drunk on the pleasure you just experienced that you simply let him.

But you realize he’s even deeper like this – and it doesn’t hurt like it did before. He’s pressing against your back wall and it actually feels good. You feel so sensitive inside, like you can feel every twitch of his cock.

He’s still languidly dragging his cock in and out of you. It’s a fucking mess between your legs, you’ve cum so fucking much that it’s everywhere. He’s never been covered like this before and it’s fucking hot.

Your cum sticks between the two of you in little strings that break and reform every time his hips meet and leave yours. Your little clit is puffy and swollen from your orgasm and he wants to press his thumb against it again but he knows the poor little thing is much too sensitive still.

Your legs flop uselessly as he fucks you, eases you past overstimulation until you’re sweetly cooing for him again. He takes that chance to fuck you properly again, intent on finding his own orgasm deep in your cunt.

His heavy balls slap against your ass. He wants to cum. He plans to make himself cum like this, just using your pretty pussy. But then he sees your eyes widen again and your lips part almost curiously and his eyes narrow.

“You feel it again, huh, sweetheart?” he goads, shifting his weight on his knees so his hips are pressed even closer to yours.

“C-Can’t,” you whisper, the same thing you had before. But it’s different now, “W-Won’t be able to, Si.”

“S that a challenge, love?” he teases, a crooked little smile on his face. You sleepily shake your head, “Hmm, I think I can fuck another one out of you. One orgasm won’t be enough, two is a good number for now. Until I train this little cunt to cum for me all night long.”

You whimper, reaching out the claw at his forearms where he pins your knees to your chest. You’re held so uselessly open, cunt completely vulnerable to his fat cock stuffing you full. His pelvis hits your clit in a way that makes the little bud tingle and your cunt clenches pathetically around him with every thrust he gives you.

Sweet little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ are punched from your lungs every time he sinks completely inside. He’s gripping your knees harshly, squeezing where he has a grip as his own orgasm starts to creep up on him but he’s going to give you another orgasm. He has to make you cum again, to see you lost in pleasure like that once more. He knows that will push him over the edge, give him what he needs. He wants to cum with you, fill you up while you’re in the throes of pure pleasure that only he has ever given you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of his own eyes rolling back in favor of watching you.

He loves the way you wear everything you feel on your face. From the looks of wonder when it feels really good to the little rolls of your eyes when he makes it hurt just a bit. It’s so cute.

Makes him want to play around with that little part of you – be a little mean to you.

“Cum,” he growls, fighting his own orgasm down, “Fuckin’ cum right now.”

“I can’t!” you wail, kicking against his hold on your knees, pressing down to spread you open even further.

His hips slam against yours, loud slaps and slick noises of your gooey cunt filling his ears, “You can. You will. Cum, sweetheart. You better fuckin’ cum.”

But you shake your head. It’s so close, you can feel it. It’s creeping up on you and you want it so bad. You want to feel that pleasure again. But you’re not even sure you’re going to be able to cum again, it feels so much more sensitive than before. It’s too much.

Simon bares his teeth, letting go of one of your legs to drift between your thighs. Your eyes widen, you think he’s going to rub it again – it’s so sensitive that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take it.

But instead, he does something else.

You hear it before you feel it, a soft little slap followed by the feeling of being electrocuted. Simon watches you with lidded eyes to see how you react. Just like he expected, you wail and your body gives a mean twitch at the impact.

So he does it again.

And again.

Not too hard, just enough for it to hurt a little bit. A sting against a terribly sensitive little bud. It’s mean – he’s mean. But he can’t fucking help it.

He needs you to cum for him again.

“Cum,” he snarls, giving your clit another slap.

As if on command, it sends you over the edge. Your legs kick out and he has to abandon your clit to hold you down, pinning you harshly to the bed as he uses all his weight to fuck down into your spasming little cunt. You’re cumming so hard around him that you stop breathing. He hears the hitch of breath and doesn’t hear the exhale. All you do is lay there, cry for him and cum.

He finds his end just as violently, tossing his head back to moan into the room as cum erupts from his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy as he milks the orgasm out of himself, voice breaking as he whimpers from how fucking good it feels.

Like no orgasm he’s ever experienced. It’s like he can’t stop cumming, filling you up so much that it oozes out from around his cock.

You’re trembling underneath him when he finally comes down, tearfully gazing up at him with your mouth agape, struggling to catch your breath.

“N-No more,” you pathetically whimper, legs twitching from the aftershocks, “C-Can’t take anymore, Si.”

“Shh,” he shushes, letting your legs go so you can relax comfortably as he pulls his cock from your pussy.

It’s twitching and clenching sporadically, still coming down from your orgasm. It makes his cum drip out of your cunt, a mess that spreads to the already messy sheets. Your cum and his mix together to make a sticky, gooey mess that makes his mouth water. He wants to eat it up, stuff his tongue into your tight little hole and swallow it all down.

But he can’t. Maybe next time, he vows.

His cock gives a valiant kick at the thought of getting to do this again. He sits on his heels, gazing at his messy cock as if softens. He feels dazed, almost drunk.

Then he hears the softest little sniffle from you and his eyes snap up to your face to find your crumpled expression and tears falling down your face. You cover your face with your hands and earnestly begin to cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” he coos, laying beside you to tuck you into his chest.

“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cry into him.

“It happens,” he assures, “It was a lot and you’re just a little overwhelmed s’all. Just let it out, baby.”

And you do, weakly sobbing into his chest until it feels like you can’t cry anymore. He holds you through it all, rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear until you grow silent.

“Alright, love?” he asks.

“S-Sorry, Si,” you sniffle, finally pulling out of the spot in his arms you were hiding in, “I-I don’t want you to think I didn’t want it or that it was bad. I just…”

He gives you a soft smile, leaning forward to kiss you. It’s short and sweet, “I don’t think that. Like I said, it happens. Sometimes people just cry after sex, nothin’ to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffle, wiping your cheeks dry when the tears finally stop.

“Positive,” he sits up, “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? We need to change the damn sheets, fuckin’ hell.”

You giggle as you look down at the sheets where a very visible dark spot is sitting where you once laid. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed before he’s swooping you off of the bed and escorting you to the bathroom.

It’s too small for both of you to fit but you make it work. He wipes you down with a warm cloth before hopping into the shower to rinse and clean himself before he gets out and lets you do the same. While you do that, he changes the bedding completely and replaces it with new sheets and blankets for the two of you to sleep in together.

When you finally stumble into the bedroom, he wraps his arms around you and urges you onto the bed. You giggle as you flop onto the bed before he crawls in after you and covers the both of you up, wrapping himself around you until you’re tucked securely against him.

“I take it you liked it?” he finally whispers.

You shyly nod, “I-It was um…fun.”

“Felt real good, huh?” he teases, grinning wolfishly when you whimper.

“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, “It felt really good. I already want to do it again.”

Simon groans, hugging you tightly before shaking his head, “You’re gonna be insatiable. Gonna give my cock a run for its money.”

You giggle, affectionately petting his hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It’s like his eyes are sparkling in the low light of the bedroom. He leans forward and ever so softly kisses your forehead, then your nose, before he reaches your lips. He pecks them softly, pulling back for just a second before he kisses you again.

“I love you,” he whispers, so soft that you almost miss it.

And your heart begins to race. You almost struggle to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, he smiles and tucks you against him again, big arms wrapped around you like a bear hug.

It’s almost surreal. You can’t believe you’re here after everything – with him.

Like you’ve dreamed your whole life, he loves you just like you love him.

PART ONE.

do not modify, translate, or repost

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader

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portgasdwrld · 9 months

Text

📂 Op men + them being jealous

part 1

Featuring: Monster trio (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)

Warning: fluffy fluff, ended up being the monster trio being subtly jealous lol Ik I was going to make it suggestive but I like it better that way, might change it for the others

Note : After 200 weeks, 1500 minutes and 25 years, I’m finally posting this serie after thousands of drafts 👩🏻‍💻 y’all don’t know how many times I wrote and erased stuff 😭

Luffy

The crew just landed on a new island, it was a huge forest, not a person in sight. You weren’t particularly a big fan of walking around in an unknown deserted place, especially in the New World where you never knew on what or who you could fall.

On the other side, Luffy was absolutely fearless and enjoyed the thrill of exploring the unknown and seeing unusual creatures; Sailing was all about that for him. An adventure wasn’t an adventure if he didn’t feel that rush of adrenaline faced to a strange situation. He had insisted you come with the exploring team while you pleaded to stay behind with Robin and Usopp.

But here you were walking glued to Sanji as your boyfriend lead the way somewhere in this lost territory filled with trees and the noises of wild animals. He was screaming in excitement when he came across weird insects or odd looking vegetables. You sighed heavily as the anxiety was still heavily present in your system.

The cook adjusted his pace to match yours sensing your uneasiness about the situation. He knew you only came for Luffy, so he made sure to help you feel more comfortable in his own way.

Luffy ran forward as he noticed a beautiful blue flower tinted with yellow strokes that looked like gentle waves. He took it and searched for you with his eyes.

-This would look so pretty on your hair!

He exclaimed as he walked over to you and Sanji while waving the flower in his tan hand. You smiled as you thought it was adorable, but Luffy’s eyes quickly glared at your arms wrapped around Sanjis. He didn’t say anything and simply fixed the flower behind your ear, complimenting you with loving eyes and his cute grin.

-You look perfect!

He announced as he put his arm around your neck, naturally removing you from Sanji. A giggle left your lips as you melt into his familiar warmth. His eyes looked down at you with so much love and care, he wouldn’t want nothing to happen to you. Sanji laughed as he noticed Luffy successful attempt to get you away from him.

Your boyfriend closed the distance between his face and yours. With slightly furrowed eyebrows and serious eyes, he wondered if you were fine.

-Yeah, I just feel uneasy about walking here if I’m being truly honest. I’m not a fearless warrior like you, let’s say~

You explained calmly as you stared back into his big brown eyes. His expression softened up and he moved his arm to be able to grab your hand instead.

-Alright, then stay close to me only. I’m the strongest, so I will protect you no matter what! I promise!

-You’re sweet, thank you Luffy.

He gave a squeeze to your hand as you two followed the group through the millions of trees. Luffy smiled to himself, knowing you were relying on him to protect you now~

Zoro

It was all going well, a great night where Zoro was simply enjoying his time drinking with the others. It was all going great until he noticed a man that kept staring at you. You didn’t notice as you were busy goofing around with Usopp, enjoying a fun conversation.

Zoro felt this feeling of frustration grow in him the more he glared at the person shamelessly eyeing you like he clearly couldn’t see you were taken. That’s when it snapped for him: maybe they couldn’t tell? And that angered him even more. How can this person stare at you like a candy while he was sitting just next to you.

The swordsman pulled you closer to him, making sure his arm around your waist is noticeable. He smirked relieved when he saw the man look away with an annoyed huff. He took a sip from his beer as his smile got bigger. Zoro took that opportunity to slip a quick peck on your jawline.

You stared at him weirdly, wondering what have gotten into him.

-Wassup with you?

-I cant kiss you or what?

-Yeah, but you don’t usually do that.

-You always complain

He whined as he rolled his eye, but still he was glad that no one was hungrily looking your way anymore. You were his and he would make the possible to make it known. Even if it needed him to be outside of his comfort zone, he was going to make sure you were safe from lingering unwanted eyes (maybe to also make himself feel better)

You gave him a funny look, confused about his unusual bright expression. You pecked his lips not giving too much thoughts about it, before going back to your conversation with Usopp. You leant your body on your boyfriends that surprisingly responded to it by holding your waist tighter and rubbing his thumb against your tummy.

-You’re really acting strange, but I ain’t complaining

You said under your breath so only he could hear. He chuckled as he drank some more. You looked over your shoulder with a smile.

-Great, because you’re not leaving my side tonight.

Sanji

Hand in hand, you two walked through the village in the middle of all the varieties of shops surrounding y’all. You wanted to buy a necklace so you were hopeful to find something of your taste and Sanji was more than willing to help you.

He had already made his grocery shopping with you yesterday and organized everything late in the evening, so it was his rest day. He wanted to enjoy the sunny weather with his awesome lover on this pretty day.

It all started when the seller was proposing you multiple options at the table and he invited you to come in the store for something more refined for a beautiful person like you. Sanji didn't care, because of course you are beautiful, so it was only natural that other people would notice. He nodded excited to see what other options the man had that could fit you even better.

Sanji cocked an eyebrow when the seller pushed your hair behind your shoulders and got close to your face as he commented about you smelling good. You laughed as you thanked him, mentioning how your boyfriend bought the scent for you as you pointed at the cook. He put a gorgeous silver piece around your neck and handed you a mirror.

-What do we think?

He asked with a content expression, you stared at the mirror with a floating smile as you nodded, approving the jewelry.

-It's so gorgeous! Oh! What about this one?

You asked as your eyes flew to a more elegant necklace. You walked away from Sanji quickly as you engaged in a great conversation with the seller about the jewelries and some specific information, that your lover was honestly unfamiliar with. Sanji felt like you kind of forgot about him and started to wander around the store on his own as he kept an eye on you, still.

"...should I get into jewelries.."

It was those type of thoughts that occupied his mind as he sulked in his corner. Though, Sanji is a gentleman and he loved more than anything to see you happy and passionate, so he put his jealousy aside to let you enjoy your moment. So, he put his ego aside and started to think about which one would look hotter on you-

-Chérie, have you find something you liked?

He asked you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. You hummed as you looked at the other man and you both nodded, agreeing on something the cook had no clue about.

-I'm going to take this one, what do you think babe?

Sanji kissed your cheeks and whispered in your ears with a smirk.

-They all look beautiful to me, because you are stunning. I don't think I will be of a great help, my love.

You smiled to yourself, because Sanji likes whatever you wear or not. On his end, he just wanted to leave already and pamper you with kisses & hickeys all over your neck to celebrate your new necklace and maybe to let people know you were his..

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readychilledwine · 1 month

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hello!! please could i request one where the reader is an OG member of the IC and very close to azriel (she knows that he’s her mate, he doesn’t) and sister-like to the rest of the IC. once feyre and her sisters come about, she often confides with feyre so they’re also close.

anyway, there’s an important event for the reader on day and she expected the rest of the IC would join her (she invited them?) but no one turned up and she’s absolutely exhausted, emotionally and physically, by the end of the day.

when she’s back, everyone is together at the house having fun and one of them notices she so dressed up but looked exhausted. maybe someone says something snarky and there’s an argument. azriel defends the snarky person so reader and azriel have an argument (hurtful words towards the reader) and that’s when the mating bond snaps for az and he’s regretful. things happen but happy ending for the reader, az and the IC. thank you 🫶🏼💗

Odd One Out

Summary - After 500 years of friendship, the last thing you ever expected was the Inner circle to miss one of your symphonies. But you know what they say, time changes people.

Warnings - I warned you all to watch out for angst, right? Elain being catty, reader feeling lonely, Azriel being an idiot

A/N - I promise Bound by Fate is still coming. I'm just constantly rereading it and not happy with where it's at. It's probably because I needed this out of my system. I hope this is close enough to what you were looking for! It wrote itself, so I'm worried it may stray too far from the ask! Please let me know if it did.

✨️ Azriel Masterlist✨️

Odd One Out pt 2

Maybe you had asked too much again. You looked to where the empty seats for the Inner Circle and Archeron sisters sat one last time before moving forward. You had worked too hard on this symphony to let this stop you. You were the last to go on stage, the conductor in her gorgeous sparkling gown and heels. You were the picture perfect face of composure as you bowed before turning and raising your hands.

You were introduced to Rhysand at a young age, and the two of you were quickly friends, so when he became High Lord, a place at his side was handed to you without question. You were eloquent, elegant, and kind. You were perfect for the position of emissary, and you single handedly won him friendships and alliances among every court aside from Spring.

He had never stopped you from pursuing passion, though. Your father had forced you into harp lessons from the tender age of 4 until his untimely death. He sat by your side for hours, teaching you to speak through letters written on a sheet that so fee could truly understand. It was an escape that turned into a career. One Rhysand specifically built the amphitheater you currently stood on for. The music you wrote woke emotion on the High Lord and all of Velaris, quickly making you one of the most popular females in the City of Starlight.

No one enjoyed your music more than Azriel's shadows, though. Nor did anyone enjoy you the way they did. How they knew you two were mates while he sat clueless and doting on Elain would never make sense to you, but the shadow turning your sheet music for you tonight was at least a small comfort, even if your family, mainly his master, was not here in their resevered High box seats.

You were exhausted when your arms lowered for the close of the show. You stood to the side, plastering a small faked smile on your graceful features as you held your arm to the orchestra, signaling for their bows before taking your own and leaving. You were the last one there, sharing thank yous and goodbyes as you musicians left. You chose to be alone for a while on the harp that sat in your sound room at the theater. You had a song in your mind, and you needed to let it speak before it left. Even if it was created from a place of raw emotion. It was near midnight when you finished, leaving the new composition to sit until you returned tomorrow.

You could hear the drunken laughter the second you walked into the old Riverhouse, the one you and Azriel made home as the mates of the Inner Circle began occupying the other houses, and signed as you removed your heels and picked them up into white tipped manicured nails. "Y/n!" Cassian's booming drunk voice slammed into you as he did. "Where have you been, baby?"

It was Nesta who gasped, looking at the clock on the wall before whispering a soft oh no as she saw your dress. Nesta who covered her mouth, eyes beginning to water as she shook her head and stared. Nesta who glared to Feyre.

"Why do you look so dolled up?" Rhys had a slight flush to his face, a wide smile as he took you in. "Hot date?"

You couldn't help but stare, shaking your head as your throat tightened. "You all seriously don't remember." Rhys knitted his brow thinking, and his face slowly fell.

"Y/n Darling, I am-"

You put your hand up to him before he could finish, shaking your head as the tears actually fell. "Save it. Spare me your lies and excuses." Cassian looked to Nesta and then Rhys, his own face falling next as he remembered.

"The symphony."

"Was beautiful, regardless of my support system deciding wine and board games were more important than the first live art performance in Velaris since our high lord was captured." Your voice was shaking as you looked up, avoiding Hazel eyes that were wide in shock as every single ounce of heart ache you felt hit him.

The bond finally snaps, his shadows hissed. We've been reminding you all day. And now you've hurt our mate. Ours. We went. Where were you?

"Maybe if you were actually good at writing music, we would have remembered." Mor's glass of wine hit the floor as your breath stilled. Rhys felt his hands fall from Feyre's lap as she audibly said Elain's name in an insulted tone. Amren was immediately held back by Varian. "Obviously, if the people who you claim you're so important to did not see making time to go a priority, we did not miss much."

Cassian heard your breath shutter. You stared to Azriel, waiting for him to come to your defense and not realizing his silence was due to shock from the bond and Elain's sudden cattiness. "Very well. I see I am no longer wanted, and I will not stay where I am not wanted," the whisper was all anyone could hear as you turned and walked away. The door shut behind you, and as if the Mother truly hated you, rain began falling softly, and you made your way back to the amphitheater.

Azriel had never shoved someone off his lap as quickly as he did Elain in that moment. But it was Rhysand who spoke, "How. Dare. You." The High lord went to stand, grabbing his jacket. "When your sister was dying, I sent her y/n's music. The mobile you play for our son every night, is y/n's music. The music that plays in Hewn City is y/n's music. She is an essential part of my circle, my family. How dare you tell her that her passion, her joy, and her career mean nothing to us."

Azriel backed away from Elain. "Your true colors disgust me, Elain Archeron." He studied her, truly studied her for the first time as the door slammed shut following Rhysand's exit. "That is my friend, my closest friend. You just hurt her like it was nothing. Cut her so deeply you will never be able to repair it."

"Well, if she mattered so much you all would have remembered."

Feyre spoke then, between heavy sobs, "I wrote down the wrong date. I wrong down tomorrow night for opening night. We were going to take her to dinner. It was supposed to be Nyx's first concert. This is my fault."

"Again, proof it didn't matter." Elain sipped her white wine as if Feyre had all but solidified her opinion.

"Get out," the growl from Azriel took everyone by surprise. "Get out of my home. You are no longer welcome here."

He was out the door, running to catch up to Rhysand in the rain, but missing the High Lord. He entered the amphitheater drenched and in silence, sitting next to where Rhysand was in the dark.

You were on stage playing violin as you always did when your heart was breaking. Every stroke of the strings had the bond growing tight before you dimmed it on your end, as if each movement of the bow, each note, was you whispering goodbye. "She told me she is leaving," Rhysand rubbed his face next to Azriel. It was then he saw the tears staining the perfect features of the High Lord. "She said this is my last performance before she leaves for Dawn."

"There's nothing we can do then?" Rhysand shook his head at the question before his head fell into his hands and his shoulders wrecked into sobs. "She's my mate."

"I know," Rhysand looked to the stars. "I've known for years. She never said anything, and now she never will. What little piece we had left is gone. Her light had been blown out by Elain's statements."

"Let me-"

"Just please stop talking and let me enjoy this."

It was the song he had sent Feyre under the mountain. A score that read of hope through pain.

And hope was all Azriel could hold on to as you stood and bowed, winnowing away as soon as you were finished.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #inner circle x reader #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #theres potential for a part 2

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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

Text

imagination part two

part one part three

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, male receiving oral, face fucking

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl

“shit, baby!” rafe grabs the towel hanging on the wall, wrapping it around his waist to cover himself. “what did you forget honey?”

you completely forgot what you were came back for, blinking several times at rafe, your eyes glazed over as you take in his muscles, the memory of what is now being covered by the towel seared into your mind.

“baby girl, what did you forget?” rafe asks again.

“i-um. my scrunchie.” you say, reaching for the scrunchie you left on the counter. a silly thing to come back for maybe, but rafe knows it's your favorite.

“im glad you got it, now let me get dressed and ill walk you out to your car, yeah?” rafe tucks the towel so it holds itself up, slowly advancing towards you.

“rafey, why were you calling my name?” you ask as he comes up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “were you… touching yourself?”

rafe swallows his surprise. “what does my innocent girl know about touching yourself?”

your cheeks flare red. “i don't wanna be innocent anymore, rafe. i-i want you to take my virginity.”

rafes eyes slide closed, his chest moving in a steady up and down motion, trying to control himself from going completely feral and doing what you ask by bending you over the counter and thrusting his length into you.

“baby, you should spend some more time thinking about it.”

“no.” you frown, “i want you. now.”

rafe groans, like he's releasing his last bit of self control, and walks you backwards into the bedroom. you move to the bed, allowing him to control your movements as you sit down on the comforter.

“we'll go slow.” rafe says, more commanding himself than telling you.

“can i see your dick again?” you ask, eyes now closer to level with the towel wrapped around his waist, sticking up in the center from where he had rehardened.

“yeah.” rafe nods, wishing he could get you naked first, but wanted to let you have a bit of control before he lost all of his and fucked you like an animal.

you tug at the towel, much more eager than rafe thought you would be. if he knew that you accidentally seeing him naked would spur this moment, he would have started walking around naked a lot earlier in your relationship.

the towel falls to the floor and your eyes widen, taking in how long and thick rafes cock is, jutting out from his body. you wrap your hand around the base and give him a stroke, making rafe groan out.

“is this good?” you question, and rafe nods, going to answer verbally when he cuts himself off with a gasp when you continue to move your hand.

you scrunch your face in concentration as you stroke him, trying to tell what he likes by the noises and faces he's making, and by how his cock twitches in your hand.

you swipe your thumb over his tip, a bit of precum leaking out. before you can really think over your actions, you lean forward and flick your tongue over his leaky head.

“fuck!” rafe shouts out, not expecting your actions. you quickly pull back, thinking you did something wrong or something that didn't feel good, but as you retreat, rafe pushes forward, his cock slipping past your lips, filling your mouth.

“fuck…” rafe groans again, unable to control the curses falling from his tongue. “baby just… just relax okay? im gonna fuck your mouth. i-i can't stop.”

you nod curtly, wishing you had more experience before doing this with rafe, but you trust him to lead you, even as he pushes his hips further forward, until his cock hits the back of your throat, causing you to cough.

“relax, baby.” rafe warns again, pulling out to let you take a full breath before his cock is back in your mouth, and this time he doesn't move slowly, snapping his hips forward and back, thrusting himself repeatedly into your mouth.

you try to breathe through your nose the best you can, only gagging occasionally when rafe hits particularly deep. he brings his hands to your head, moving you in rhythm with him.

you close your eyes, feeling tears fall down your cheeks. you hope that whatever you’re doing is making rafe feel good as he moans above you.

“i’m sorry baby.” rafe runs his palm over the top of your hair. “i just can’t stop, you feel too good.”

you hum around his cock, trying to tell him that it’s okay, that you want to make him feel good like this, but he can’t let up as he continues to fuck your face, drool now rolling down your cheeks.

“gonna cum.” rafe warns only seconds before he shoots down your throat, somehow able to cum so quickly after just masturbating in the shower. you swallow everything he has to offer, moaning softly at the taste as he starts to soften in your mouth. he pulls out with a soft sigh, and you heave in large breaths, wiping your chin and neck clean.

rafe seems to suddenly realize what he just did as he kneels down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “are you okay? i’m so sorry, babygirl, i couldn’t stop.”

“it’s okay, rafey.” you shake your head. “it… felt really good. i liked that.”

“i didn’t hurt you?” rafe confirms.

“no.” you shake your head. “i wanna do it again.”

rafe laughs, pulling you into a kiss. you melt against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, keenly aware of the fact that he is still naked and the intense craving to have him between your thighs.

“i can’t get it back up right now, but we can definitely do that again, and more.” rafe says, standing up and letting you recover as he gets dressed, donning a simple pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“are you… are you not going to fuck me tonight?” you ask, a pout coming to your face.

“not tonight baby.” rafe shakes his head. “need you to keep some of that innocence for a bit longer darling.”

“rafe, thats so unfair!” you whine.

“no it’s not. i’m giving you more time to think about wanting to lose your virginity because once i’m in that pussy baby-” rafe pauses to kiss the top of your head before moving his mouth to your ear “i am going to fucking destroy it.”

part three

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elenadvrx · 4 months

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"princess, come on. i'm really sorry."

suna rintarou likes to play pranks on you. but this time, it went too far.

"no, suna. i don't want to talk to you." with a frown on your face and your arms crossed, you faced away from his general direction.

"suna?" he chuckled nervously, knowing you were really upset if you refused to call him 'rin' or 'baby'. "princess, i'm really sorry for doing that to you. i promise to not do that again, okay?" he tilted his head to try to get you to look at him.

a few days ago, you came home from work and wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend because you had a bad day at work. things weren't going as well as you hoped so you were looking forward to get some comfort in his arms. your heart ached when your silent request for cuddles were rejected but you brushed it off thinking that maybe he wasn't in the mood for it.

until the same thing happened the next day and the day after. whenever you initiated hugs or kisses, suna grunted and moved away, focusing on whatever was on his phone. not knowing what to do, you sat on the sofa and watched tv while suna continued to type away on his phone on the other end of the sofa. then, his phone rang and he answered the call.

"yeah, himeko? you need help? sure, i'll come over in a few." himeko. isn't she the one who was always fawning around suna?

before you could grasp what was happening, suna was already putting on his shoes. panicking, you rushed over towards him, "rin? where are you going?"

"hmm? i'm heading to himeko's. apparently she needs help with some stuff." to be honest, seeing the crestfallen expression on your face with those beady eyes, he hesitated to continue this prank but chose to press on. (tsk the ego)

"oh… okay." you hesitantly smile at suna, watching him leave through the door of your shared home.

when the door click shut, you stood at the same spot for what felt like an eternity before deciding to go back to sit on the sofa. millions of thoughts went through your mind, thinking about all the posibilities on what you may have done for him to have ignored you for three days but left immediately when another girl called for him.

what if he was tired of you? what if… he decided that himeko was actually so much better than you and was slowly distancing himself from you to prepare you for the eventual breakup? what if-

"princess, baby, i can't do it!" suna rushed through the door and head over to you to start explaining.

after a few minutes, he stopped talking and looked at you. he waited with bated breath for your scolding and beatings but none came.

which brings us back to the present.

facing away from him, your eyes started watering and your lips quiver. just a moment ago you were scared and anxious because you thought he was done with you, running away to be with another girl. and you never got that comfort from him since three days ago so all your feelings and emotions were pent up till now.

"princess? please, talk to me?" he spoke softly, so softly as if a glass would shatter if he were to speak any louder.

you hear hesitant patters of feet until suna's figure came into your peripheral, kneeling down before you and gently cupping your chin to make you face him instead. touch starved, his gentle touch made a tear run down your cheek, then down his hand.

"oh princess, i'm so sorry" suna's focused gaze on you got you crying and sobbing as you dove straight to his arms (which he let out an 'oomph' sound from the sudden impact), hiding your face on his chest.

feeling petty, you started punching his chest lightly but slowly start hitting him straight on with both your fists and palms, crying at the same time.

"ow ow! okay, yeah i deserve that but baby, could you hit me a little softer?" he chuckles trying to get a hold of your flailing arms. just as he got a hold on you, you immediately retracted your arms to cover your face.

"you're so mean! i really thought you were about to leave me and that you don't love me anymore!" more tears started trickling down before you could stop them. "i had a really bad day and all i wanted was to cuddle with you…" you started hicupping, emotions all over the place.

"hey, stop baby, i will always love you and i will never leave you, okay? i'm so stupid, gosh, i give you hitting privileges all you want. here, let me hit myself too." he hit himself on his head but winced when he did it too hard, rubbing the sore part.

chuckling a little at the sight, you started to calm down. "don't hit yourself, only i can hit you." you reached out to his head to help dissipate the soreness too.

grabbing your hand, suna softly kisses your inner wrist before releasing it to palm your face and start peppering kisses all over it, with soft "i love you"s in between. he gave a last kiss on your lips before releasing a soft sigh against it.

"i'm sorry, princess." he plopped his forehead to rest on your shoulder before tightly wrapping his arms around your waist.

"mm, you're forgiven. but do something stupid like this again and i'll leave your ass immediately." you reciprocate his embrace, one hand wrapping around his shoulder while the other slowly stroke his hair.

"fair. just know that i love you too much to let you leave me heh." placing a kiss on your neck, he retreated before lifting you up from the sofa to carry you to the bedroom.

"now, let's get the cuddles that you wanted and you tell me what happened at work. alright, princess?"

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu angst to fluff #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou fluff #suna rintarou angst #suna fluff #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader

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forbidden-sunlight · 9 days

Text

yandere!ceo with villainess!reader [part three]

warnings: mentions of infidelity, non-consensual surveillance, delusional and obsessive thoughts, workplace toxicity, verbal abuse or harassment

There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events. You are responsible for your own Internet consumption.

Reblog to support content creators ❤️

Hey guys and welcome back to part three of this series, created in collaboration with the talented @deathmetalunicorn1! I know a lot of people have asked for this next segment, and it is finished after a lot of edits and two rough drafts back-to-back!

Just so everyone knows, I am going to be focused on another project starting in June, so please be patient in the meantime and do not flood my inbox with requests or asks as to when the finale of this series will be posted.

Now that this little announcement is out of the way, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show :)

Part One

Part Two

You could not wait to have your first sip of caffeinated bliss since seven o’clock this morning when you left for the office. The presentation was almost finished, all it needed were a few more checks on some references after a much-needed lunch break. The catering company had texted you that the foodstuff had already been delivered to your department as soon as you walked inside the coffee shop. You were about to send a review for their business when a notification on another app popped it. The purple app with a clapperboard icon that only you could see because it was directly connected to Being X. This was how you received the viewer ratings for each episode so far. But…why were the results for this episode already in? Shouldn’t it have happened until later?

Swallowing the lump in your throat, your shaking pointer finger tapped it. A creme-colored screen appeared with the words congratulations, congratulations, congratulations written in bold cursive lettering. Beneath it were numbers. Stats about the ratings.

You quickly scanned them, seeing that today’s episodes had exceeded the requirements to move forward with the next segment and not a reset with negative comments from the audience or a sarcastic message from Being X to have better luck next time on the fifth loop and a smiling emoji at the end. But why and how did this even happen when you just arrived on the set?

“YEO JUNG-HWA, HOW COULD TALK TO ME LIKE THAT?! YOU’RE EMBARRASSING ME!”

Ah. You would recognize that voice anywhere. Hyeung Mun-Hee. Of course she is having a clandestine with the male lead instead of answering her phone to come into work and help out with the project after her lover pushed the deadline to Monday morning instead of next month. But raising her voice in public, and from what it sounds like, she’s actually arguing with him? Well seeing the two main actors in this drama world having a spat when their chemistry is supposed to be flawless and the epitome of true love would rank in high ratings. If they saw the villainess catching her fiance in the act of seeing another woman behind her back and pouring hot coffee over the female lead’s head, the act wouldn’t reap even half of these glowing online comments that keep popping up every few minutes.

“I have an order for Park ready?”

The universe is smiling down on you today.

You thanked the barista profusely as he carefully handed you one of the coffee holders, asking if you’d like help with carrying everything to your car. You gladly took up on his offer, secretly slipping a tip into his hand afterwards before heading back to the office.

By four o’clock, the quarterly income statements were triple-checked and emailed off to Yeo Jung-Hwa. Tomorrow’s workload included the inspection of the company’s financial software, and the firewalls with the head of the IT Department.

All the more reason to be lazy for the rest of your Saturday, curling up in some blankets and comfy clothes, watching a cooking show to pass the time until Caretaker Lee knocked your door, informing you that dinner was ready. You immediately followed her downstairs to the dining room, seeing everyone else in the Park family waiting for you with warm smiles.

The evening’s dish was bibimbap, a bowl consisting of meat, vegetables, and white rice. The side dishes with sliced green onions and kimchi. Small talk was exchanged between glasses of wine and bites of Caretaker Lee’s delicious meal.

Your younger brother wasn’t quite ready to have alcohol yet despite his claims that he is of age to drink. Your mother shared a funny story she heard about at the salon. Your father rarely said a word during dinner, but the loving gaze in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. Sometimes you hoped that all of it was real….but having too much hope will only make someone go insane. And you had no intention of being trapped in this hellhole for another loop. Being X? Fuck you.

The rest of the weekend went by in the blink of an eye. Everything went well, and you attached a copy of the inspection reports in another email to the male lead before finally falling asleep at almost midnight.

You couldn’t be blamed for being a bit cranky on Monday morning after arriving at the office with a large to-go mug of coffee in hand. At least you hoped so. You were not in the mood for any drama, and your team seemed to pick up on the vibes very quickly, diving into their tasks and only asking you questions if it was absolutely necessary.

For someone who skipped out on work this past weekend, Hyeung Mun-Hee looked like shit. She kept looking at her phone more often than usual with a crazed look in her eyes, biting her thumbnail until it bled. Wow. Okay, the fight with the male lead definitely bothered her a lot. Maybe it’s because it was the first argument she ever had with him?

You did not know and did not have the energy to care. You preferred to channel it into being productive and as polite as possible, especially when your face popped up on the online meeting with all the other heads, including Yeo Jung-Hwa. To your surprise, he had nothing but high praise for your team, promising to bestow a proper reward for their hard work.

Funny how he didn’t mention Hyeung Mun-Hee at all or accused you of stealing the credit since he knew she wasn’t in the office helping with crunching numbers and running tests on the software.

The male lead is actually not being a total dumbass in a time loop. What are the odds of that actually happening?

Regardless, the day ended on a pleasant note and you decided to treat yourself to a pastry on the way back home. But as you waited in the drive thru, your phone binged with a text notification while you were scrolling through some reels for knitting ideas. It was from Yeo Jung-Hwa. He wanted you to join him for dinner on Friday evening. If it didn’t work for you, he is available on Saturday afternoon for lunch.

The place would be entirely up to you. You know his preferences, so he isn’t too worried that you would make a mistake. At this point you weren’t sure if he’s complimenting your powers of observation or it was some backhanded insult.

No matter how much you wanted to delete the message and pretend that you never received it, refusing the male lead’s invitation is also a bad idea because you were stuck playing the role of Park Seo-yun, his fiancée who is supposed to be head over heels in love with him. If the real one were here instead of you, she would immediately jump at the chance to reclaim his affection before her engagement could be annulled.

The car behind yours honked and you saw that the drive thru was clear. You quickly drove up to it, placing your order in, then headed to the window. A few minutes later you had your treat in hand but you didn’t take a left and merged with the traffic heading towards home. Instead you parked your vehicle in the adjacent lot and glanced down at the text again. You didn’t want to sound like a teenage girl, and responding in a cold, professional tone would probably piss him off or lower the audience ratings. After some deliberation, you decided to settle for the following message:

All right, if that’s what you want. How about the Lotus Pavilion? I heard it’s really good but haven’t had the chance to go there. What do you think? 🌸 😊

The Lotus Pavilion is a five-star restaurant that not only boasts of a fine dining experience for the wealthy to enjoy at their behest, it’s also where Yeo Jung-Hwa frequently visit during the drama with the excuse that it is close to the male lead’s home, which is complete bullshit because Park Seo-yun in the original script got kicked out of their VIP list for inappropriate behavior; what really happened is that she caused a scene after catching Yeo Jung-Hwa and Hyeung Mun-Hee sitting together, calling them out on their affair, and the establishment wanted no connection to such a scandal.

Since you got booted from there in the previous loops, why not see what this place has to offer for this world’s villainess who hasn’t caught on to her fiancé’s philandering behavior yet?

It would be interesting if anyone realized that the male lead’s usual companion wasn’t with him that night~.

Yeo Jung-Hwa was simultaneously startled and ashamed to see the name of the restaurant you had wanted to go to. The Lotus Pavilion? It wasn’t too bad, but he knew you wouldn’t like the elitism atmosphere at all. You preferred to relax in a cozy cafe or indulge in the home-cooked meals that your housekeeper made. He knows you so well, yet why would you want to go here of all places? That was where he took Hyeung Mun-Hee all of the time! His eyes widened in realization. Wait. Is it possible that you have been aware of his affair with that woman for this entire time, and you chose not to say a word about it because you were afraid it would affect his reputation just as much as yours? Or that he would call off the engagement so that he could marry Hyeung Mun-Hee?

If he were still an idiot, then yes he would have. But he has changed for the better, and all because he had been suspicious of your behavior. Now he understands that there is more to you than meets the eye and why you’ve chosen to hide your true self from everyone. The business world can be a cruel and unforgiving place to thrive professionally; kindness and generosity in a leader were all well and good, but noblesse oblige did not snuff out the competitors or pay the employees their hard-earned paychecks.

You possesed intelligence, ambition, integrity, and a strong work ethic. All of the qualities needed in a team leader as well as someone who is to be married into his family in the near future.

Yeo Jung-Hwa felt his face burn at the idea of seeing you walking down the aisle in a beautiful gown, smiling brightly and eyes shining with happiness. Yes. He will go through with the engagement. He will become your husband and the sole breadwinner so that you wouldn’t have to stress about deadlines or meetings, converting that boundless energy into nurturing your children in a loving home.

But before these fantasies could become a reality, he needed to rebuild the foundation of your relationship. To gain your trust and sever ties completely with Hyeung Mun-Hee. He’s already taken the first step to putting distance between himself and that woman by blocking her phone calls and avoiding her entirely at the office during work hours. It might have only been a day, but it is progress in the right direction.

The reservations for The Lotus Pavilion were made in less than two minutes with explicit instructions on your food preferences. Failure was not an option or else he would personally speak to the manager about his staff’s lack of training. The maitre’d stutter over the phone as he tried to reassure him that everything will go according to plan before Yeo Jung-Hwa hung up. Soon, he thought with a smile. Soon everything will be alright again between Park Seo-yun and I and we will be happy.

You really wished Friday evening hadn’t come as quickly as it did. The work week went by in a flash, and before you realized what was happening, you had entered the main lobby on the first floor and informed the maitre’d that you were here under the reservation of your dinner companion. Her shocked expression told you everything, much to your chagrin. That son of a bitch made no effort to hide his affair with the female lead in this place, and now that you were with him tonight ...well, this is going to turn into a big mess if you weren’t too careful. There is still the possibility of being kicked out of here for causing a ruckus.

Question is, will it help the male lead realize that he must break things off with you and put his energy into mending things with Hyeung Mun-Hee? Couples who can’t communicate their feelings to each other properly are doomed to fail. Moreover, their romance is the driving force behind Love and Fortune. Without these two characters, this world would not exist.

And how you wished for its destruction every goddamned time you were forced to relive these scenes when Being X disapproved of your acting.

Although the name itself is a bit misleading because the restaurant’s interior design looked nothing like a pavilion from those historical dramas, you did have credit to whoever came up with the idea of planting a cherry blossom tree in the center of the first floor. It wasn’t completely in the way for the kitchen staff or clients, and it gave off an ethereal glow thanks to the low lighting from the ceiling lamps, almost as if the tree was possessed by a spirit or a goddess of love.

When the reservation was found, you followed a waiter up the stairs to the second floor and all the way to the back where the VIP section for the Lotus Pavilion’s wealthiest clients could enjoy a peaceful evening away from prying eyes so long as they were willing to pay the fee. Sitting at a table for two with a view of the city was Yeo Jung-Hwa, looking amazing as ever because of plot armor and he’s the male lead. No matter what is going on in this world, he’s always dressed to the nines. If he wants to go out in style then so be it.

Was the day’s exhaustion catching up to you or did his eyes actually brighten when you made eye contact with him? No. That can’t be right.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You said as you gracefully sat down in the leather chair. You thanked the waiter under your breath as he carefully scooted you in before he pulled out a notepad. You ordered ice water and the evening’s special mocktail. Yeo Jung Hwa raised an eyebrow. “No alcohol?” He said after the server disappeared back towards the door. Or was there a bar here? It was too dark to tell.

You shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.” You said, folding your hands in your lap. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight? I was certain that you had…other plans.” You watched him swallow thickly, the fingers coiling tighter around the stem of his wine glass before he lifted it to his lips, took a few sips, and set it back down. He then grabbed the menu sitting on his left, offering it to you.

“Please select what you would like tonight. There is no need to be worried about paying for your own meal. It’s my treat.”

“I would have paid for it even if you had not offered to do so.” You said lightly. “Nor did you answer my question.” You plucked the menu from his outstretched hand, opening it to see the evening’s specials recommended by the chef. “But I suppose that doesn’t matter, does it? That was then, this is now.” You looked up at him with a quirked brow. “Or should I be concerned? I am to be your wife, and any matters regarding the conglomerate could be stressful to the employees, and to you, even myself who is a team leader in the Finance Department.”

His eyes widened. "Do you need to take any time off?” He asked suddenly. “I will gladly give it to you! You need to take care of yourself!"

You blinked. Well, that was an answer you had not expected from the cold-hearted CEO of this drama world to say to his villainous fiancee. Suppose you’ll take it with a grain of salt for now? After all, Being X has allowed some leeway in your assigned role. Why wouldn’t the puppetmaster do the same thing for one of his beloved actors?

“Thank you for your concern.” You said. “If I need to take some time off, I will submit a request in advance so I won’t cause any trouble for the team.” You watched Yeo Jung-Hwa exhale a sigh in relief before he reached for his phone, tapping on it for a few moments before he put it back on the table face down. Then it kept vibrating every couple of minutes until he grabbed it again and presumably shut it off, just right when the waiter came back with drinks. Yeo Jung-Hwa ordered a Hanwoo steak with rice, steamed vegetables and an American side salad. You asked for the same thing, but requested a thicker slice of the meat and doubled the size of the side dishes, if the chef would be so kind as to do that. Also dessert. You couldn’t top off a meal without something sweet, and everything looked delicious. You were pretty hungry after working hard today~.

"Are you really going to eat all that? Wouldn't you like something lighter?"

You paused, turning towards Yeo Jung-Hwa in astonishment. Did…he really just say that? This son of a bitch actually has the fucking nerve to make a comment like that in public? Humiliation and anger boiled in your veins simultaneously, and you could hear the other patrons whispering. Their assumptions, their spiteful comments, even how Yeo Jung-Hwa is engaged to a glutton instead of one of their daughters. Unbelievable.

You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, and exhaled through your mouth before you looked back at the waiter with a tight smile. “If it’s all right, could you put my order in a carry-out box?” You flashed a black card at him. “The fees won’t be an issue, and I’ll add an extra tip to you and the staff for accommodating me.”

“Wait, what are you-”

“I am going home to enjoy my meal without being judged.” You said icily, your smile still stretched across your lips. “I will not apologize for ordering as much food as I am because I did not have much time today to enjoy my lunch, no thanks to an emergency meeting that you arranged and taking Hyeung Mun-Hee aside in my office as she is being negligent of her work again. Even after I gave her a lecture, she still had the nerve to believe I was bullying her, and said I would be the one on her knees begging for forgiveness once her lover had heard about it. Tell me Yeo Jung-Hwa, who in the world would put such thoughts into her mind?” You laced your hands together, resting your elbows on the table. “As my supervisor, I am asking for advice as to how I should discipline her.”

“....”

“Well, thank you for a lovely evening, Yeo Jung-Hwa. I’ll see on Monday morning.” You said, taking the plastic bag from the waiter who had returned your card. You shoved the card in your purse and left the restaurant. You heard him call out to you, but you ignored him and unlocked your vehicle. Your arm would have been grabbed a second sooner if you didn’t quicken your pace, opening and slamming the driver’s side. You turned on the engine and drove off into the night towards home. Well, your temporary sanctuary anyway.

About an hour later you had retreated to your room, brushing off your father’s concern for the tears that were trickling down your face in favor of a much needed self-care session. A hot bath with burning incense and music playing in the background, comfortable clothes, and your meal that you hadn’t gotten a chance to try. Caretaker Lee was kind enough to deliver it on a silver tray with a steaming cup of hot cocoa next to your dessert. She always knew how to make you feel better and unashamed of who you are.

A complete contrast to a certain someone who hasn’t stopped texting or leaving you voicemails when you’ve refused to pick your phone. Asshole.

Frustrated and hungry, you unlocked your device and shut it off. You threw it on the bed and turned on the television, tray on your lap and your attention now glued to the opening credits of a high stakes baking competition.

Yeo Jung-Hwa was embarrassed with how you acted this evening. Why were you so mad? Yes, he knew you had a big appetite but he did not know that you had skipped lunch because he can’t install cameras in your office!

And why would Hyeung Mun-Hee say something like that to you?! Is she trying to broadcast their relationship to the conglomerate when he’s told her to keep her mouth shut about it? If it’s known that he, the leader of his family’s empire and an engaged man is having an affair, the stocks would plummet! He would be ruined, you would be ruined!

Can’t she understand that I do want to mend our relationship, and she has the nerve to walk out on me like that?! He thought, anger swelling up inside of him and ready to burst from his chest as he lifted his hands to card through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. God, he needed a stiff drink after this fiasco.

He informed the server to put his food in a carry-out box as well, paying for the meal that he didn’t get to enjoy while trying very hard to ignore the other patrons as they whispered to each other about what they had seen tonight. The scene you had caused.

He returned home, ate his meal and retreated to his office with a second drink in his hand. He booted up the computer and tapped into the camera feed. Yeo Jung-Hwa’s heart lurched uncomfortably. He had expected you to be asleep or reading or kitting or watching television, not crying in your father’s arms!

Yeo Jung-Hwa leaned back in his leather chair, widened violet eyes unable to tear away from the screen as he watched your shoulders tremble in your father’s embrace. The head of the Park family rocked you back and forth, whispering softly in your hair. Gone is the fearless leader and in his place is a loving, concerned parent. Someone he wanted to be after having children with you…but was that even possible now?

He hadn’t meant to upset you, to make you cry. His mind was now clear, all of the anger gone and out of his system. In retrospect, you were not wrong with how you acted. He was the one who acted inappropriately, making a callous comment about your appetite when he hadn’t meant to say it as an insult. It was an honest slip of the tongue!

His hands trembled, now suddenly terrified that your father would be the one to call off the engagement and arrange you to marry someone else. No. No, that couldn’t happen! He wanted to be with you! He wanted to make this relationship work!

He exhaled a shaky breath, taking another swing from his glass before he set down on the table. When he did so, his phone chimed with a notification. Another phone call from Hyeung Mun-Hee.

His thumb swiped across the screen as he declined the call and turned his attention back to you and your father, praying that his worst nightmare would not be made a reality on Monday morning.

That he still had a chance to make things right.

“Am I overreacting? Did you not hear me when I said he took that woman to our favorite restaurant, and she made a scene?! It’s a good thing no one actually posted a video about it, and I heard about this incident from a reliable source, or the situation could have been a lot worse! What? No! No, this will not be a determinant to our plans. Have a little faith in me! I need to go. I have an important call to make. I’ll see you soon.”

Taglist: @suiana @f4turemom @ixchelhernandez4 @sleep-all-day-everyday @the-cat-queen-peasants @slowlyswimmingmoon @obsessedwithromance @pinkgoldweebgirl @mochinon-yah @cerisearan @julietdelamare @nunezs-stuff @sourlove @yandere-writer-momo @yandere-dark-cupid @persephone-kore-law @faux-ecrivain @cassanderasblog @marooseshawnash @diannaflight @tonightwrites @majestichugs @detectivesparrow @beardedblizzardexpert @valeriinee @vee-love @vivyolite @somerandomdere @ghostdoodlen @tired-of-life-86 @hotnbloodied @yourdoorisunlocked @stingywiththeirusername @lanxianschoenheit @witch-of-the-writing-desk @victoria1676 @lu-zo-san @facelessfionna @dreamlessnight @c4xcocoa @queenmimis @ozzgin @aiimee9 @solandis-does-stuff @sarcastic-cookie @reiivven @reallysparklychaos and anyone else I might have forgotten because this list got so long since the last update. Thank you so much for your support!

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere!ceo #ns.fw #cw dubious consent #cw verbal abuse #tw verbal abuse #cw work toxicity #tw work toxicity #femreader #fem!reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 5 months

Note

hiii omg I love your stuff!! my eyeballs popped out my head when I saw you're writing for bucky I'm sooo head over heels for him. he look so fine in the new thunderbolts run😩

could I maybe request a lil bucky sneaking into your room at night in between his missions or smth for a quickie? 🙈 even though he's busy more than half the time, he still finds a moment or two to spend a heated moment with you; bc he misses you so much and can barely keep his hands off

tysm in advance omg omg

hii angel!! aah thank you sm🫠 tehe I know!?? love it, thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

FIFTEEN MINUTES.

bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count. 1115

warnings. 18+ only !! tiny bit of prep (f receiving) unprotected pinv, creampie. mdni

Nights at the compound were far from quiet; the constant opening and closing of doors, scattered footsteps, echoed voices - everyone on different sleep schedules.

You were in your room settling down for the night, lying in bed and listening to music, scrolling through your phone when you hear the sound of scuffling from behind your door - the silhouette of booted feet appearing under the gap.

Unplugging your earphones, you sit up, noticing the familiar leather from under the slither of light. You fling off your covers and rush for the door, face lighting up when you see who is on the other side.

"Bucky?!" you blurt out, clearly happy to see him. "What are you doing back so soon?" you ask, tone elated.

His smile widens, grinning boyishly at you. "Came back before heading out again," he shrugs casually, speaking as if it were all that easy. "...was missing you," he admits, eyes diverting away bashfully.

Your head tilts to the side, nose scrunching from his sweet confession. "I missed you," you widen your door, silently inviting him inside. "Only a little bit," you add, expression mirroring his.

Bucky steps into your room and shuts the door behind himself, closing the distance between you with a brisk step forward - leaning in to kiss you, soft and sweet. His hands settle on your waist, fingers sliding under the fabric of your t-shirt to feel your skin - flesh warm and comforting against his.

You rest your hands over the sides of his face, palms cupping his cheeks as the kiss grows more desperate. Carnal. "How long til you leave?" you ask, voice muffled against his lips, your words sounding needy.

"Fifteen minutes."

He walks you backwards, heading for your bed, his hands eagerly roaming you as he lays you against the edge of the mattress, slotting his lower half between your spread legs. He hovers above you, his cock growing hard and strained behind his pants, bulge nudging up into that warm spot between your thighs.

"We can make that work," you reply, a slight whine to your tone.

He hums, far too entranced by how you feel against him to respond coherently. The rush of blood swelling to his cock, leaving his brain. Bucky peels from your grasp and stands between your spread legs, looking down at the lewd image of you - lips bruised and plumped, eyes half-lidded, t-shirt exposing the underneath of your pretty tits.

He loved how you usually looked, but this was just on another level - you obscenely desperate for him and him only. Your eager eyes following his every move, looking over him like you couldn't get enough.

Your gaze hones in on his hands, watching him undo the button of his pants, his fingers slipping down the front, pulling his hardened dick from behind the waistband. You follow suit, urgently pulling down your pyjama bottoms and flinging them aside - leaving you in only an oversized tee, lying near naked under his fully clothed self.

His left metal hand takes hold of his cock, leisurely rolling it in his palm as his other reaches between your thighs - fleshed middle finger sliding up and down the slit of your pussy. Fingerpad circling over your clit ever so deliciously, mindlessly rubbing the sensitive nub.

"We don't have long, James," you say softly, hand reaching for his wrist, fingers wrapping around his meaty lower arm.

He slips off his jacket, revealing a black compression top underneath. He stands between your legs, blissfully unaware of how good he looks right now - tight, short-sleeved top, black combat pants pooling around his thighs, pretty dick exposed and on display.

"Wish we had longer," he murmurs, itching himself closer.

"You're back in two days, right?" you say, instinctively adjusting your hips - widening your thighs to accustom his frame.

He pushes his head through the slick of your cunt, coating the tip in a soft, creaming sheen. He hums in response, his thumb resting atop his cock as he guides himself into you, easing through your fluttering walls.

He leans over you once more, weight anchored on his hands either side of your head, dick sinking into you so nicely - just you taking him so well.

You reach up to cup his cheeks, holding his face in your hands as you maintain his gaze, your features growing pliant under his attention - eyes softening, brows knitting, expression mirroring his. You meet in the middle, lips clashing eagerly.

"Can't you pretend to be sick?" you murmur against his mouth, speaking desperately.

He slowly begins to wind his hips into you, cock consuming you from the inside out. "I can try to get out of it," he replies, his voice hoarse and strained from the way you wrap yourself around him.

"Please do," you whisper, latching your lips back onto his - kissing him hard, moans muffling.

"Why?" he whispers back, a soft smile lining his lips. "Do you miss me?"

"No."

"No?"

You faintly shake your head, eyes playful and unconvincing. "No."

He plays along. "Neither do I."

Bucky continues like that, fucking into you, his leisured pace growing rushed by the second, winding into you more ruthlessly than he would've liked. Usually, he would take the time to work you up - make love to you, kiss and touch and caress you, but with the minutes growing shorter and shorter, less and less, he had to switch it up.

It doesn't take long for you both to cum, your climax hitting you hard; his cock almost choking you, repeatedly knocking the air out of your lungs. His release follows mere moments later, spilling his warm, thick load - sloppily pumping it into you.

His forehead rests against yours, both of your breathing erratic, slowly beginning to even out. "Sorry, my love. I got to go," he whispers apologeticly, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

Sweetly nodding as you push his stray hairs back, looking at him with a knowing expression he's grown familiar with.

He kisses you once more and peels himself from you, standing back between your thighs - dressing back up. He looks down at you, eyes raking over you as if to savour the image, memorising you before he goes.

Adjusting your t-shirt, you follow after him, the patter of your bare feet trailing after him like a shadow. He reaches for the handle and turns back to face you, his soft, gentle eyes filled with warmth.

"I'll call you when I land," he smiles, speaking like he's reading your mind.

"Be careful, yeah?" you reach up, meeting his initiation for kiss.

"I always am."

#request #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #winter soldier x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader smut #marvel smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you

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court-of-starss · 5 months

Text

Comfort of Family

Summary: Your cycle leaves you pining for your mate.

Warnings: Periods, a whole bunch of fluff, Rhys being the best older brother ever.

a/n: Honestly I just wanted an excuse to write Rhys as an older brother. Enjoy my migraine induced drabble!

Masterlist

Feyre had never seen Rhys look as nervous as he did now, standing in front of the wooden door of his little sister. He was tense as he lifted his hand to knock, hesitating as he took in a nervous breath.

“I think you’re being a bit dramatic.” Feyre mumbled, raising a hand to gently rub his tense back, biting her lip to hide her amusement as he shot her an accusatory look over his shoulder.

“You don’t understand, she’s not my little star during her cycle” His voice trailed into a whisper, “she’s a chocolate hoarding dragon.” Feyre couldn’t hold back her laugh at his dramatics, so scared of his closest family member, his baby sister.

“I assume she’s going to be even worse as you’ve sent her mate off to gods know where.” Feyre giggled, hiding her smile behind her hand when Rhys narrowed his eyes at her and huffed. He took a deep breath before turning back around and finally raising his hand to gently knock on the door, turning the doorknob and entering at the soft ‘come in’ that emerged from the room.

The curtains were drawn, leaving the room in darkness hiding the mass under the heavy black sheets of the bed. Feyre rolled her eyes at Rhys’ hesitation to enter, giving him a gentle shove forward before closing the door behind him, leaving him to face his sister alone.

‘Traitor.’ He shot down the bond, his lips curving up slightly at her soft laugh that he felt through his chest. He cautiously approached the bed, eyebrows crunching together at the small sniffle that leaked from her. He felt guilt swarm him at her pain, her cycles much more painful than the ordinary fae.

“You better have chocolate Rhys.” You growled, your eyes peaking out from under the blankets to glare at your older brother who was now crouching down in front of you. He looked so much like your mother like this, his eyes soft as he examined the scrunch of your brows. He raised his hand, revealing a pouch from your favorite sweet shop in town. He grinned and set them on the night stand, next to your mates’ dagger, the one he always left by your side.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, cringing when another wave of pain travelled through you, your back and abdomen cramping painfully. Rhys frowned and gentle wiped the sweat from your brow, cupping your cheek softly as his talons slipped into your mind to ease some of the pain coursing through you.

“I’m still mad at you, for sending him away.” He sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, making himself comfortable, ignoring your glare as he rested his head on your mates pillow.

“It was urgent and I assure you he will be back soon little star.” He had a teasing grin on his face as he bumped your foot with his. “Besides I’m sure he’ll give me enough of a beating when he gets home.” He snickered, he never turned down an opportunity to roll around the training mat with the shadowsinger.

A soft sniffle left you as you rested your temple on his shoulder, taking a few deep breaths. His scent easing your mind slightly, knowing you were safe with your best friend by your side. You could never truly be mad at your brother, a fact he knew and took advantage of often. While most compared him to your father, you always saw your mother in him. In his gentle eyes, in his caring actions, in his selfless actions, in his court.

“I miss him.” You mumbled, tears dripping down your cheeks as Rhys rested his cheek against your hair, humming softly.

“What can I do?” He asked gently, his heart aching at your pain and tears. A sight that he couldn’t stand.

“I just want Azriel.” You sniffled, wiping your cheek on his shirt, not even feeling guilty at the damp spot on his shirt. He sighed and sat up, pulling your head onto his lap as he ran his fingers through your hair soothingly. Humming softly as your eyelids started to droop.

“He’ll be home soon I promise little star.” Rhys said softly, his words sending you into a blissful sleep full of shadows and gleaming hazel eyes full of love and laughter.

You grumbled when you felt something caressing your cheek, a soft cool touch that drew you from the sweet dream you were having of your other half. You peeled your eyes open, blinking a few times to clear the fog of sleep. Your gaze snapped to a soft hazel gaze, kneeling next to the bed with a gentle smile was your mate. Your Azriel.

Your lip wobbled as you processed that he was here, your hand lifting from the blankets to hold the back of his caressing your cheek.

“Hey baby.” He mumbled, his eyes tracking the fresh tears now gathering in your waterline.

“Az.” You whined, tugging his hand. He complied, sliding under the blankets and huffing a laugh when you immediately curled into his body, leg draping over his hips as his arm slid over your shoulders to tug you into chest. You buried your face into his neck, taking long breaths of his scent, the smell of home. His palm slid down until it pressed against your lower back, the spot he knew always gave you the worst pains.

“Never leave me again.” You mumbled into his throat, smiling when he made a noise of agreement, the sound rumbling down to his chest. His other hand lifting to stroke through your hair, his nose pressed into your temple taking deep breaths of his beloved mate.

It could have been hours, perhaps days that you spent in this position with him, your body finally fully relaxed. But alas the moment was ruined, by your traitorous stomach letting out a deep grumble of protest. Az let out a puffed laugh, pressing a soft kiss to your hair before sliding you up onto his chest and rising from the bed.

You grumbled unhappily at the loss of the soft sheets and buried your head in his neck as he carried you out into the dining room, full of your loud and nosy family. Nose scrunching at Rhys and Mor loudly arguing over whom had the better hair in the family, you scoffed softly knowing it was neither of them.

“Oh, Az what do I have to do to get you to carry me around like that?” Cassian drawled, waving you off when you raised your head to snarl at him. You glared at his cheeky smile, softening slightly when he winked at you.

“For the last time Cassian, you are not my type.” Azriel groaned in fake annoyance, his lips tipping up slightly. You giggled when Cas held his hand to his heart and groaned dramatically, his own mate rolling her eyes, shooting you a soft smile before turning back to her conversation with Feyre.

Your heart warmed at the picture of your family, all cozied up on the comfy couches in front of the roaring fireplace, laughter ringing through the room as each member of your family relaxed with each other. A sight you had thought wouldn’t ever happen again 50 years ago, the joy and care radiating from everyone in the room was enough to tip your lips up, your pain from your cycle almost completely forgotten as your mate tipped his back with a roaring laugh as his brother continued his teasing.

Your eyes met Rhys’ as he smiled at you, his arm wrapped around his mate as she laughed at something Nesta was explaining, probably an embarrassing fact about poor Cassian. You smiled back, your eyes filling with happy tears as you finally witnessed the love and happiness on his face, after a long life of suffering, the pair of you were finally happy.

I love you Rhys.

I love you too, little star.

Azriel carried you into the kitchen, setting you on the counter as he turned to rifle through the cupboards, he always made you food when you were on your cycle, knowing you loved his cooking.

You sent a pulse of love down the golden string attaching your souls together, smiling widely when he shot a cheeky wink over his shoulder at you.

With the laughter flowing into the room from your family, and the sound of Azriel humming softly to himself as he started cooking, you felt your body relax. You had faced darkness head on and you knew at this moment that you would face it again if it meant that this life was waiting for you at the end.

“What do you mean Helion is hotter than me?! That is bullshit!” Cassian exclaimed from the other room, causing a loud laugh to leave your lips as your mate turned to grin at you, his own laugh leaving him as his eyes twinkled.

Watching you giggle and turn to shout back at Cassian, Azriel knew he would face death itself to keep the glittering smile on your face for eternity.

#acotar series #azriel #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #big brother rhysand #azriel x you #cassian acotar #emmie writes #acotar #velaris #night court #azriel shadowsinger

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honeydjarin · 8 months

Text

BRING ME THE SUN

OPLA SANJI X READER

You often find yourself in the galley, seeking the company of your favorite chef. Even when your half asleep, Sanji can’t bring himself to turn you away.

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1,500

a/n: how often can I write about sleeping? It’s what I long for most of all. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with opla!sanji, but now I can't stop thinking about him!

PART II: (I’LL GIVE YOU THE MOON)

Your feet carry you over salt-soaked wood, up creaking stairs bordered by sun-warmed railings, before settling in front of the closed door to the galley. You hesitate for only a moment. The evening sun glares off the porthole window and prevents you from peeking into the room beyond, but you know the man you seek is in there. Sanji is almost always in the kitchen now that he has the freedom to experiment with new recipes as he pleases.

When you first enter the galley, it’s with the intention of keeping the Going Merry’s chef company. Sanji’s easy going nature is addicting. Friendly and flirtatious conversations with him always leave you glowing golden—brighter than the sun. His comfort as he works in the kitchen, his joy for what he does, is contagious. Oftentimes, you find yourself at the door to the galley, having had no plan to walk there. You seek out his company whenever you’re given the chance, consciously or not.

You hadn’t meant to develop such a large crush on the chef. He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a crewmate. A friend. You had been wary of the flirt when he joined the Straw Hats. His first impression left you with his self confidence and charm but no glimpse of his care for friends and strangers alike. You never could have expected how easily the newest member would wiggle his way into your heart.

You take a breath, then step into the room hidden behind the door.

Sanji is exactly where you expect him to be, flitting around the kitchen as he begins preparations for dinner. When he hears the door open, he turns your way, a smile pulling at his lips as soon as he sees it’s you.

“Hello, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but he slows, keeping his gaze on you. “Are you hungry?”

“Not yet. I just wanted to keep you company,” you say, making your way farther into the kitchen. A part of you can’t help but think Sanji must get lonely in the galley after having spent so much time surrounded by others at the Baratie, but he never complains.

The other part of you worries that Sanji actually prefers the time alone, and that your presence in the kitchen is unwelcomed. The Going Merry isn’t a particularly large ship, and finding a moment to be alone can be difficult.

“Then today I am a lucky man,” he replies. His smile never falters, eyes gleaming as though he truly does feel lucky to spend time with you. It’s enough to dispel any lingering worries, at least for the time being.

You warm beneath the weight of his gaze, heartbeat fluttering from the sudden attention. For a moment you forget yourself, too lost in the twin seas trapped in Sanji’s eyes. Your own lips pull into a matching smile and you feel like you’re glowing, just like you always do when he gives you his attention. Sanji’s gaze seems to soften, as if, somehow, he can see the light burning in your chest.

If you don’t move now, you’ll sink too deeply into this feeling, you’ll get too wrapped up in your not so little crush.

You take a step forward, then another. Your feet carry you to one of the seats at the counter, keeping the island between you. Sanji’s gaze still washes over you, but at least this way, no matter how tempting it may be, you won’t find yourself reaching out to him. You won’t tangle your fingers between his own, won’t run your spare hand through his hair or cradle the soft curve of his cheek, won’t lean in to kiss his still grinning lips.

The evening sun filters through the galley windows, gleaming off cookware and pooling on the countertops. Your seat is strategically situated in the center of one of those pools, the hazy light casting a warm beam across your skin. You sink into its embrace, growing more relaxed with each slow breath you take. The warmth is like a hug, and you can’t help but to settle into it.

You fold your arms on the countertop and rest your chin on them, easing into a comfortable position. You could fall asleep like this.

Oftentimes, you offer to help Sanji cook, not wanting to be in the galley without at least being useful, but today you seem to be slipping—too relaxed, too tired, content just to watch the chef in his element. You’re only half aware of what he is doing as he works.

“Here,” Sanji says, setting a glass down in front of you. “Try this.”

Small bubbles rise from the liquid inside, popping as they reach the surface. When you take a sip, it’s cool and saccharine, flavors mixing to create the perfect balance.

“Oh! It’s good,” you praise before taking another sip. You have to set the glass down, wanting to savor the drink Sanji made just for you. “Everything you make is good.”

“You’re too sweet to me, darling.”

His words make you smile, but you keep your attention on the glass in front of you, too afraid that if you look at him he will see in your eyes just how deep your affections lie.

Beads of condensation have already formed on the outside of the glass, making the fizzy liquid inside look almost cloudy. You trail your finger through the moisture on the smooth surface, the cool liquid dripping down your fingertip leaving a clear path behind your touch, a curve into a point. Reflect and repeat. When you pull your hand away, a little heart remains.

The blonde chef leaves you feeling like a lovesick fool—as sticky sweet as the drink he made you.

This moment is too easy, too safe. You hardly notice the way your eyelids weigh heavy, each blink lasting longer than the one before it. The sounds of chopping vegetables and boiling water begin to fade, barely noticeable as sleep creeps ever closer.

“As flattered as I am that you want to keep me company even when you’re so tired, I must insist that you find a more comfortable place to nap. I’ve heard that pain is beauty, but beauty sleep should never cause someone as sweet as you to wake up in pain.”

If you weren’t already so close to sleep, Sanji’s words might have sent your heart racing. He thinks you’re sweet too.

“I’ll be fine, Sanji. It’s just a little cat nap,” you offer, only half aware of what you’re saying.

You don’t hear if he responds.

—♡—

It’s a chill seeping into your skin that starts to wake you up. The ocean air isn’t really that cold, but the absence of the sun on your skin creates a change in temperature stark enough to make you sigh in disappointment. What once felt like a soft embrace now feels like a missing piece.

There’s the sound of something being whisked, or stirred, the only evidence you have that you aren’t alone in the galley.

You stretch your arms out to your sides, groaning slightly at the stiffness in your shoulders. Sanji was right, your body does hurt. You keep your eyes closed as you stretch, desperately clinging to those last moments of sleep as you work out the aches in your muscles.

“Hmm. It’s cold now,” you mumble. The stirring sound stops.

The creeping sense of cold doesn’t have long to settle over you. Before you can continue to complain about the movement of the sun, something heavy and warm is draped over your shoulders. The heat of your skin sinks into the fabric before it is reflected back at you, just like the sun. It feels like a blanket. At the very least, it offers the comfort of one.

You pull the fabric closer around you, feel the curl of a collar around your neck and the holes for sleeves catch on your shoulders—definitely not a blanket. The fabric of Sanji’s jacket is smooth and well made, the quality much better than most of the crew’s clothing.

What is this made of? You want to ask. Boyfriend material?

But where flirtation spills naturally from Sanji’s lips, it only ever sounds awkward and stilted from yours. You leave the words unsaid, choosing instead to offer a simple “thank you.”

“You seemed quite content. It would be a shame for you to grow cold simply because the sun doesn’t understand how much you appreciate it.”

Finally, you open your eyes.

Sanji leans on the counter beside you, offering you a soft smile. It’s subdued, as if he himself isn’t even aware he’s doing it. He looks good like this—he always looks good. He looks at ease right now, like he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Or with anyone else.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but for just a little while, you can almost let yourself believe that he feels the same way about you. Why else would he look at you like that, with such fondness?

“So you decided to keep me warm instead?” you prod.

“Of course,” he responds without hesitation. “I can’t bring you the sun, but I can offer you this.”

Of course. He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. As if he couldn’t ever bring himself to consider an alternative.

You feel warm again, glowing.

a/n: I’m planning on writing a second part to this. Hopefully it won’t take too long ^_^

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla sanji x you #opla x you #opla one piece #one piece #one piece live action

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shibaraki · 6 months

Text

HELD BY YOU, FELLED BY YOU ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship, physical affection, touch starved shouto, loneliness, hugs + hand holding, fluff, only a little angst, obliviousness, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 1.4K

series masterlist: 1/5

It is 4:03pm on a Thursday afternoon. The skies are grey, and the rain is so light it’s practically a wet fog. You have not touched Shouto in any meaningful way since Monday.

Before this week Shouto was certain that he must have been absorbed into a long-standing state of neutrality and apathy as a child. He didn’t long for anything, atleast, not in the way his friends claimed to. Whiny professions of loneliness, lamenting over romantic relationships and sex or lack thereof, dreamily recounting their passionate escapades. It didn’t appeal much to him.

Shouto had what he needed to survive—to live his day to day and climb the ranks without disruption, and it seemed that affection was not one of those things. The Todoroki household had never been particularly affectionate anyway. After his mother was admitted to the psychiatric hospital touch became less associated with comfort and happiness, and more of a thing to avoid altogether.

Shouto never actually voiced an aversion to touch. He held hands with crying children as he walked them back to their parents. He rubbed the backs of countless scared victims, he let them wrap around his arm and squeeze until his fingers grew numb. He offered his left side to elderly folk in the colder weather as they waited to be loaded into an ambulance.

But these small instances were always initiated by him, and his well-meaning friends decided to leave the ball in his court sometime during highschool. It never really left.

Until—

“Can I hug you?” you blurted. Your expression quickly twisted into a sheepish grimace. “You look like you could do with one, is all”.

At that moment Shouto had been sitting in the infirmary half covered in soot and picking out the bits of rubble that managed to get inside his suit’s ventilator. He stared up at you and wondered what that would even look like on himself, lifting a hand to feel his face and finding it relatively normal.

The sound of his heart flooded his ears and he frowned at the reaction. You weren’t a new friend by any means, but Shouto scarcely made new friends so you are newer than the others. You’ve never tried to be physically affectionate but he’s caught you gazing at him fondly sometimes, when you think he’s none the wiser, and he likes it.

Shouto nodded. Why, he doesn’t know. To quell your anxiety and get rid of the awkward atmosphere, he reasoned. Then your lips pulled into a soft, pleased smile, and he felt it like the sun on his face.

You stepped forward as though approaching some skittish animal. Shouto made no move to stand. He had only watched with trepidation as your hands lifted. A breath caught in his throat as they extended to rest on his sloped shoulders. “I’ll get you dirty,” he murmured dumbly in afterthought.

“That’s okay,” you replied, barely above a whisper. Your arms slipped around his back gently, and soon tightened to a secure hold when no objection came—there could be none, because the instant Shouto’s cheek pressed against your soft stomach, a rush of adrenaline speared through him and swept away all conscious thought.

To Shouto touch was like skipping a rock through the cavity in his chest; doing it only ever made its presence more obvious. But you cradled him there for what seemed like hours and he felt warm in ways he couldn’t articulate. Your fingers danced aimless patterns along the top of his spine, sometimes pausing to curl the wispy hair at his nape around them, and he sank.

True to his word, Shouto had dirtied your clothes. He apologised when you pulled away because it was all he could do not to whimper. You didn’t spare your shirt a glance—you just smiled at him again, and said you hoped it helped.

Helped? Helped?

The weight of your embrace had lingered for hours, cloven to the forefront of his mind, clinging to the memory before it became too obscure. Only now the memory hurt him to think about, and the pervasive ache for more intensified as the days passed.

Just this morning he’d wrapped his bedsheets tight and drew them around his shoulders to simulate that same feeling. Closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, picturing you there. Your sweet, purposeful touches. Your comforting scent. Your chest rising and falling. Your voice rumbling against his cheek. Heat filled his body, like you’d reached inside and turned the spigot of his heart.

It was mortifying. And exhilarating.

Shouto stuck his hand out from the shelter of the awning and let the rain lick at his fingers. Overturning his wrist, catching them on the shallow of his palm, he contemplates how he can get you to touch him again.

Last time you said he simply looked like he needed it. Too frustrating and vague, not to mention Shouto has been needing it all week. You could have meant his grimy post-battle appearance, but he didn’t really think this should warrant being thrown from another high rise building. Maybe he has to earn it this time.

You’re standing beside him, too preoccupied by the emails on your phone to notice his dilemma. Things have been fine. No awkwardness on your part, which he should probably be pleased about, but his mind keeps veering beyond rational conjecture. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. It all felt too one sided.

Shouto gives you a sidelong glance. You might be the only person he knows that can look alluring in the dreary afternoon light. With a sigh he lets his hand drop to his hip and wipes it on his dry suit.

Your thumbs move fast across the screen. “Sorry, Shouto. I promise I’m not ignoring you—just need to reply to this intern,” you tell him. “God, have I ever mentioned how much I hate the email software your agency uses? Because I do”.

He hums, “You have”.

Whatever you hear in his voice has you looking up. There’s a crease etched in your brow, expression open and apologetic. Your gaze flickers to the hand held to his front, where he’s working out the static in his knuckles.

“Are you cold?” you ask, pocketing your phone. It’s a silly question. He is a walking furnace. But Shouto is statuesque as you reach to cup his distinctly bigger hand with your own. Heat prickles under his skin. The staccato of his heart kicks up. You lean down to exhale a warm breath over his fingers, and stroke your thumb along the dips and peaks of his knuckles.

Shouto sends a mental apology to Kaminari for the halfhearted response he gave after a long, lovestruck monologue about his girlfriend’s hands. He thinks he gets it, now.

Your lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Better?” you scan his face and the smile falters. “Shit. Sorry, Shouto. I should’ve asked,” then you’re retreating again and—

He reflexively grabs your wrist. It’s a loose grip, enough for you to free yourself from. You pause. “No,” a puff of steam billows out from his mouth and he has enough presence of mind to be embarrassed by it. “…It’s fine. You don’t have to stop”.

Your concern dwindles into amusement as he wafts it away. “Alright,” you say placatingly. The tension alleviates, and when your fingers slip against his you immediately twine them together, taking the ache in his chest with it. “Is this ‘fine’ too?”

Shouto nods, not yet trusting his voice or his quirk.

“I wasn’t sure if I crossed any lines on Monday,” your eyes dipped to stare at the pavement as you continued. “I know you aren’t touchy feely like the others. They were… surprised when I mentioned the hug”.

“I didn’t think I was,” he swallows, flexing his fingers to squeeze your hand. “I liked it”.

You squeeze back, “You did?”

Shouto squeezes harder, and can’t stop the smile coming unbidden to his lips. “I did,” he says.

You meet his gaze. He’s pinned by that fond look you always try to hide from him. “Do you want another one, then?”

“But I didn’t do anything”.

A litany of emotion passes over your face at his response. There’s determination in the purse of your lips as you step into his space, entangled hands caught between your bodies. Wrapping an arm around his waist, you tuck your nose into the hollow where his jaw met his neck.

There’s a clumsiness to his movements as he follows your lead and slips his arm around your back. Head suddenly too heavy for his neck, he rests his cheek on your crown, melting into the embrace.

“You don’t need to earn my affection, Shouto. Not now and not ever”.

“Oh,” Shouto breathes. “I can just ask?”

“You can,” you laugh softly.

Why hadn’t he thought to just—ask. That is far more reasonable than being flung from another burning high rise.

“What?”

Ah. He pulls you further into his chest until you’re pressed together like the pages of a book. “Nothing”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader

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ghostselena · 1 year

Text

It'll grow back

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You miss Rafe's long hair after being dared to cut it, and he convinces you it looks good

Warning: mentions of sex, slight smut, breeding kink, 18+

a/n: just a surprise hey heyyyy, this is slightly edited and very rusty my apologies. This is about that one tweet i saw where people were complaining about drew’s ‘ugly’ haircut and i decided to put my own twist to it, enjoy!

please do not post this anywhere without permission, thank you!

━━━━━━

"You did not." the words rapidly left your lips as your boyfriend stepped right through the front door, sunglasses still on as he came back from his barber.

This was Barry's fault. The dare was just a suggestion in your mind, and even after begging on your knees, you can't help but feel a twinge of regret for not speaking up more and stopping him from cutting it.

The hair you loved to pull while he licked through your folds and ate you out like it was his last meal on earth, hearing nothing but muffled groans between your legs as you pulled and gripped.

His smile was wide, and cocky even as he closed the door behind him and saw you sitting on the corner of his couch.

"I miss your long hair already," you say with a small pout.

Rafe chuckles as he sits next to you, getting comfortable before he pulls you closer to him. "Really? I kind of like it like this," he says, running a hand over his head.

You look up at him skeptically, but he just smiles and leans in to kiss you. You can't deny that he still looks handsome, even with his hair shorter than you're used to.

"You're lucky, that I love you," you mumble against his lips that had now pressed themselves against yours, his tongue sliding easily against yours and using his arms to pull you on top of him.

"Yeah?" his hands had found their favorite spot against your ass, moving your hips slowly against his, "It'll grow back," his lips wrapped themselves around your tongue as he sucked it gently, pressing you back against the sofa.

The man walked in and saw you wearing nothing but his shirt and underwear, the smell of sex lingering in the air after hours of pounding you down into his mattress all morning.

Like a man still starved, his lips had made their way down your body, lifting off his shirt from you and groaning at the sight of you with no bra, "Tsk tsk, you're practically begging me to take you right here,"

you squirmed against his lips as they pressed themselves against your stomach, hands cupping your breast, "and you fell for it," you giggle as he bites down onto your thigh playfully, your hands going to hold onto his hair, "I'm gonna miss being able to grip your hair," his buzzed hair felt rough yet soft against your touch.

In a swift motion, you were flipped onto your stomach and pinned down by his hands, feeling his breath hit your right ear as he bit your earlobe gently, "even better, you won't be able to pull me away when I eat that pretty pussy of yours," he hummed, as you hear his belt getting thrown to the side, his one hand pulling down his shorts slowly, "and I'm just gonna keep going, even after you've begged it's become too much,"

You moaned against the pillow that had muffled your sounds in the last few seconds, back arching back against his growing bulge that kept pressing itself against you, "and just when you think I've stopped," he pressed his lips against your neck, pulling your underwear to the side as his tip kissed your entrance, the pre-cum mixing with your juices, "I'm gonna slide my cock in," he hissed as he spoke, slowly pressing his hips forwards and happily being welcomed by your warm cavern, "and pump you with so much of my fucking cum, buried deep inside, and get your belly big and round with my children," his breath was shaky as he slid all the way inside of you.

Your legs were spread, back arched against him as he deliciously split you open, never getting used to his monster cock.

"Fuck, Rafe.." was all you could let out, as his hand pressed your head deeper onto the pillow, the other hand smacking your ass and savoring your cunt that gripped onto him, "My hair should be the least of your worries right now, better hope that pill of yours works," he slid out of you before slamming back into you, earning a gasp from your lips, "cause you're in for a long afternoon, mama."

-----

Taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed, or if you changed your username!)

@maybankslover @phildunphyisadilf @ailee-celeste @onmykneesforrafe @rafesrings @unbelievablystillafangirl @fashphotolife @rootbeerfaygo @ishipit1420 @babeyglo@georgiaxxxx @stevesmixtape @cityofidek

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #obx #obx rafe cameron #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #rafe outer banks

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shotmrmiller · 6 months

Text

Situationship into Relationship.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB! Reader

TW: disgustingly explicit, p in v, pregnancy talk. Strap in, its a doozy.

Since the first time Simon physically ruined you for other men forever, the both of you spent half of his leave in the bedroom, and the other being the best friends you were. Eventually, you noticed Simon practically moved in with you. Toothbrush next to yours in the bathroom, black balaclavas inside your knickers because Simon is a closet pervert, and thinking back on how he's treated you in the past before this situationship— unsurprising.

Then things went from situationship to a relationship. Simon, in a manner that's all him, didn't even ask. Simon and you had been resting on your couch, book in your lap and feet tucked under his thick thighs, when his cell started ringing. Simon picks up the television remote with one hand to pause the movie and answers his phone with the other.

"Soap."

You glance up from your book to look at him.

"No." a pause.

"No, I don't care that you flew out here to visit," followed by a suck of his teeth and then a deep resigned sigh.

"I'm with my girl. No, you cannot ask what her name is. Now piss off.", and as if nothing happened, Simon just unmutes the television and wraps your foot with his hand. With a secret bashful smile, you look back down at your book.

Now that leads you to now. Simon has to leave to a mission for a possibly yearlong mission— and you knew what you were signing yourself up for— doesn't mean it didn't hurt every time he left.

Raising to your toes you pull him to you in a hug. You feel his arms wrap around your waist tightly and he shoves his unmasked face into your neck.

"I'll miss you," you whisper with a sniffle. He kisses your neck in a comforting manner before he says,

"I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. You just make sure you're eating well."

He pulls away reluctantly and puts on his balaclava, then looks down at you. A mischievous glint in your eyes has him squinting his eyes at you.

"Maybe the next time, you can leave me with some company."

His eyebrows furrow as he says, "I didn't know you wanted a pet. I could look into—"

"A baby, Simon."

His blue eyes widen, and you can see the outline of his gaping mouth behind his mask. Giggling, you step forward, pressing your side to his and putting your hand on his chest as you— almost painfully— tilt your head up to look at him . He shakes from his stupor and makes eye contact, tossing an arm around you.

"Simon. Did you hear about the accident back at base?"

"No. What happened?"

"If you want the answer, come back home to me."

Nodding he says, "My heart will hold you when my arms cannot."

Your lip trembles in a pout and your eyes mist. Slapping his chest, you say in a shaky tone, "You bastard," and in a much smaller, vulnerable voice, "I love you too."

Simon nods before pressing a kiss to your hairline. He then turns, grabs his bags and leaves.

---

It's been 8 months since Simon left.

8 long months since you hugged him last. You got scarce calls from him, letting you know he was alright before having to cut it short, and for that you were grateful. But you still missed him. Hopefully today you'd get another call from him, you thought as you went to bed.

As you're burrowing in the comforter, you hear the door unlock. Ripping yourself from the bed, you scramble to the living room.

With a breathy tone, you say his name.

Si is back home. Your Simon's back.

He locks the door, drops his bags, and opens his arms wide. Your reaction is immediate and visceral. Launching yourself into his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck— ripping his mask off, putting both hands on his cheeks and smothering him in kisses.

"If this is the welcome I get for being away for so long, maybe I should do it more often," he jokes.

"Don't you fucking dare. I was miserable without you."

Holding you up with his arms, he pulls his face away from you and asks, "Well? What accident happened at base?"

"Oh. A Humvee ran over a box of popcorn and killed 2 kernels."

He huffs from his nose.

"Good one, love."

Simon finally takes notice of what you're wearing — one of his black shirts and pink knickers underneath.

"I haven't forgotten about your little comment you blindsided me with. You want me to make you a mum? Beg me for it, pretty."

"Oh please, Si. We'd make such pretty little tots. It'd be half of me and half of you— I'd always have a part of you with me, even if you were across the world. I'm also ovulating this week and I'm," you dig your fingernails into his traps, "so irrationally aroused it's not even—"

He cuts you off with his mouth as he kicks off his boots, leaving them scattered by the front door and he's jogging to the bedroom. Throwing you on the bed, he grabs your hips, fingers curling into the waistband of your knickers, and pulls you to the edge of the bed— haphazardly pulling them off and tossing them over his shoulder as he kneels.

Your pussy is already slippery from arousal and the extra hormones in your body, and your face flushes. How embarrassing. Simon notices your expression because he says, "What a pretty little quim my girl's got. All this for me?" he leans in and inhales deeply, "You smell so sweet, love. I have to get a taste."

His long tongue immediately starts drawing languid small circles on your clit, and you're letting your head hang back with a moan before he stops and slaps your thighs with both hands— causing you to raise your head and look.

"You keep those eyes on me and watch what I'm doing to you, pretty."

With a fierce blush, you acquiesce, and he goes back in— eating pussy like it's his job— and you're approaching the end of the cliff at an alarming rate. He squeezes his fingers into the meat, forcing you to keep eye contact— your eyes staring into steel blue as his tongue flicks your swollen clit repeatedly before he lowers, stiffening his tongue and sticking it into your hole— and rubs his nose over your nub. Your thighs start to shake, digging the heels of your feet into his shoulders—and the intensity of his gaze holding your own sends you over the edge.

Toes curling and your feet hooking across the back of his head to pull his face further into your pulsating pussy to ride out your nerve-scraping orgasm. Getting down from your high, limbs loose and like molasses, you rub the only two brain cells you've got at this moment and wonder if you drowned him.

You glance down between your legs and Simon is there with an irritatingly smug grin as his nose shines with your come and drips from his chin.

"Be good for me now, pet. I ain't fuckin' you until you give me one more."

Before you even get to protest, he pacifies you with a, "I know you're painfully sensitive. I promise I'll be gentle."

And he does. He spits on your pussy, and you whimper at the contact before he oh-so softly starts tapping your clit directly with the bottom part of the tip of his tongue in a sharp, but feather-light, staccato rhythm while using the pad of his thumb to rub small delicate circles where your lips split open and you're coming in seconds.

You're drained. Empty of all thought and energy, your vision is hazy when you feel Simon take your foot that was pressing into his shoulder by the ankle and puts it into his mouth — tongue swirling around your toes— and lets out a filthy moan. The sensation of his tongue in between them sends a shiver from the bottom of your spine up to your scalp, body hair standing on end.

Dropping your foot, he gets up with a grunt, yanks off his shirt and undoes his trousers to free himself.

"How do you want me?"

He chuckles darkly and says, "Don't worry your pretty little head, pet. I'll take care of everything— you just lie there and let me take what's mine."

Maneuvering you on your back in the middle of the bed, he brings your legs together before shifting them to your right side, his left, knees bent at a 90° angle—and your upper body is still facing him—when he pushes your legs with one massive hand into the mattress and uses the other to hold himself up, palm digging into the bed by your head.

Simon pushes in, long hefty cock stretching you open in one solid stroke. There's a sting as he forces you open on him, and he's bottoming out with an obscene squelch bit but it's these first few minutes that are you love the most. The first firm strokes that feel so intense, you're pushed to your limits. The lack of time to adjust to him lights your nerve endings on fire, you love it.

In this position, he covers your body completely, like a shield. He's all you see. All you need to see.

Every time his balls are pressed up against your pussy, you feel a burn, deep inside as the tip of his cock presses firmly against your cervix and it forces a groan out of you with every thrust.

Now he's grabbing your arm—hand engulfing your elbow—as he lies down on his back, pulling you to straddle him. He takes his cock in his hand so you can lower yourself on it and you wince at how sensitive you feel, and his tip is barely in.

Simon takes notice, of course, he's always attentive to you and your needs— and he coos at you.

"Deep breath, sweetheart. You're doing perfect," he grunts as half of him disappears into you, " The only one that can take all of me so well." And like a stone dropping into a pond, surface tension giving into the weight, you drop and take the rest of him in your body.

It's too much, you think, but can't help and grind down on him. The pinch in your lower belly is too much but you twist that pain into pleasure— otherwise, Simon will notice and stop. You really don't want him to stop.

Peering up at you through his lashes, Simon takes pleasure in your expression. Lightly tapping your cheek with the pads of his fingers strong enough to jolt your head to the side a bit, but never to hurt you, and says, "Look at that cock-drunk look on your face. Fuckin' hell, I could stare at you all day."

Simon is so large, your knees barely skim the comforter— can't even bounce on his cock properly— that he just takes over. He tells you to flatten your feet on the bed, like you're sitting on your haunches and puts a palm on your chest to lean you back at an intense angle— pulling a loud mewl from your throat.

He raises his legs, knees bending and planting his own feet flat on the bed and shoves his forearms underneath your thighs to grip your ass and lifts you as if you weighed nothing. He lifts you, at the same time lowering his hips to bed, to leave just the tip at your entrance before he yanks you down— his own hips slamming straight up to meet you halfway to fuck you.

He's feeling you squeeze his cock in a tight vice, your moans getting high and whiny— all of your tell tales signs that you're close.

"This," he says with a particularly hard thrust, "is my favorite part." and focuses on making you come on his cock. The sheer strength behind his thrusts sends you careening straight into a blinding orgasm.

You're keening so loud you know the neighbors are going to put in a noise complaint, but you couldn't care less. You've probably had one of the most intense orgasms in a long time, and Simon just fucked you through it without a single stutter in his pace— the only sign you see that he was straining was the sweat dripping down his temple towards his jaw and the rapid intake of breaths coming out of his mouth.

He looks down at where you two are connected and you leaked cream on his happy trail, making it stick together, and he groans at the sight.

Now that you'd come, it was his turn to get his pleasure. And he was gonna take it. He's tossing you up and down like his own personal pocket pussy, and you swear you can feel him trying to open the plug of your womb with the flared head of his cock. His grunts are deep and get louder the closer he gets. It takes him 8 more brutal strokes and he's choking out, "Fuck, I'm gonna come. Fuck, fuck, fuck," and he bites his bottom lip and lets out a whimpered, pathetic wail— something you've never heard before—as he stiffens and grinds into you. You think you can feel his coming moving from the base of his length to the tip where it spurts into you in such a large quantity, it's spilling from in you and dripping down onto him.

Your hands are on his chest, putting all of your weight onto them, as your legs lower back down. Simon, underneath you, removes his arms from under you and straightens them out to where your legs are— grabbing onto your calves.

As he comes down from his high, his gaze clears and intensifies on yours— causing you to blush under the scrutiny of it— and with emphasis says, "I love you. Marry me."

You give a deep sigh. You should've known Simon would be as unorthodox as possible. It's almost like he only lets intrusive thoughts out when around you. Giving your walls a clench, making him hiss, you tell him, "Fine. But you're going to the Mexican restaurant down the street. I've worked up an appetite and they don't do delivery."

Chuckling quietly, he slaps both of your thighs saying, "A'right, love. Let me get dressed."

He gets changed at an alarming pace before leaving. You lie back on the bed, head on the pillow, and close your eyes for a minute before the door opens again. Simon comes back in and heads straight for the bathroom in long strides. After a second, he turns to head back out and you catch a glimpse of something— another obnoxious scrunchy, this time in a lime green, on his wrist. Again. You don't even wear those anymore because you cut your hair off into an asymmetrical pixie. Snorting, you figure that's as close to a wedding band that he's ever gonna wear.

A/N: ill be in the VIP section in hell, popping bottles.

@thychuvaluswife @corvusmorte

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mwii #cod smut #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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c0eu4 · 6 months

Text

CL16 | Real orgasm ♡

Summary: Y/n confess to Charles that she doesn't know what true orgasm is. And he shows her what it is.

Warning: oral (f receiving), fluff?

A/N: Hope you'll like it <3

MASTERLIST request are open

Charles sits down on her sofa, putting his feet on the coffee table. She sits next to him, putting the blanket over them.

He takes the remote and turns on the TV. ''What do we watch tonight?'' He asked her, scrolling through the thumbnails on Netflix.

She makes herself comfortable with cushions behind her back and brings her cup of tea. ''I let you choose this time.''

He sighs and keeps scrolling, sometimes reading the summary before finally putting something on.

As the movie starts, she sips her tea, passing her cup to Charles who take a sip too. They're not best friends for nothing. They have known each other since they were little and they always share everything. So him drinking in the same cup as her is certainly not a problem.

And tonight he came to her house to comfort her. Her boyfriend cowardly cheated on her then left her, like a poor toy. Charles helps her to go through this. Even when she were at her lower, he was there.

And what an irony that he put a movie where the main character cheats on her boyfriend with everyone.

''Uhm you might wanna change ?'' He asks her about the third sex scene that happens, where the main character seems really excited about the idea of getting caught.

''Mh no it's ok.'' She squeezed her thighs, wishing her boyfriend was like in the movie, who knows how to bring pleasure to a woman.

''You ok?'' He asked her, putting his hand on her thigh. He really shouldn't have done that. Despite the fact that he's her best friend, she can't control her hormones and can't help but get a little wetter.

''I..I was just thinking about the fact that I have never cum so brutally. Maybe I never cum, I don't know haha.'' He looked at her, stunned. Not because they never talk about sex. But rather by the fact that she admits to him that she has never had an orgasm.

''Was your boyfriend that bad? For never having made you cum?'' She shrugged her shoulders.

Charles finds himself blushing just thinking about Y/n, actually cumming for the first time.

''You..you want me to show you what real orgasm is ?'' He asked her, almost whispering because of his shyness.

She turned her head towards him, her cheeks red. What should she do? She's so horny now that she can't say no. But does that also mean maybe ruining their friendship?

''Y-yes... Please.'' Charles himself didn't expect her to say yes. He brings his head closer to hers, his lips a few millimeters from hers. She can feel his breath on her lips and it gives her goosebumps. She closes her eyes, hoping that Charles will make the first move, because she doesn't dare to.

Just as she was about to open her eyes again, because she thought Charles wouldn't move, his lips stuck to her. His hand slides down her neck and brings her head closer to his, deepening the kiss with small movements. He moves forward so much that she lies down on the sofa, him on top of her.

''You have to tell me now if you want to stop.'' He kisses her cheeks.

''K-keep please..'' He kisses her jaw, under her ear, her neck and her collarbone. His hands slip under her t-shirt, removing it slowly. She feels shivers down her spine when he starts to rub his hands against her waist, hips, thighs and upper ass.

She found herself moaning softly, but naturally, not faking it. His kisses tease her breasts, unclipping her bra easily. He looked up at her, as if he was asking her if he could touch it.

''You..you can..'' She whispered, shyly. One of his hands found its way to massage her breasts, licking the nipples of the other one.

Charles is a smart man. And seeing that she didn't react more than that when he teased her with her breasts, he didn't dwell on it too much.

His kisses keep going lower, until he nibbles softly in her flat belly, removing her pants gently. He takes one of her hands and places it on his hair, indicating for her to play with it.

She runs her hand through it, stroking his soft hair and playing with a few strands with her fingertips. He tries to spread her legs but she unconsciously resists.

''Don't be stressed, princess.. Is it ok if I call you princess?'' She relaxes a little and Charles manages to position himself correctly between her legs.

''Y-Yes.. I like it.'' She whines softly when she feels him blowing on her panties.

He bites his bottom lip, looking at her, full of lust and hunger. A white stain is visible through her panties and Charles wants to eat her out so badly.

As if to answer him, she lightly presses Charles' head towards her privacy. He doesn't wait for a second signal and lets his fingers slide between her folds through her panties.

''Charles !'' She moaned, surprising him and herself. He allows himself to remove her panties, seeing her completely naked in front of him.

''You're so beautiful, princess..'' She put her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened when she felt Charles's lips against her bundle of nerves. He grabs her arm that's hiding her mouth, taking her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers.

''Close your eyes and don't hold back your beautiful voice..'' She closes her eyes like Charles told her, enjoying his lips and tongue.

He makes small circles with his tongue, using his free hand to push a finger inside her. She grips his hair a little tighter, digging her nails into the skin of his hand with her other hand.

The room is filled with her moans, sounding like a melody to the ears of Charles's. He inserts a second finger, making her moan louder. She feels a sensation she has never felt. Her whole body is tense and her legs are shaking uncontrollably.

She can't help but moan, Charles moving his fingers in and out quickly, in a wet and tight song. And when her whole body relaxes, without even realizing it, she drowns Charles with her precious liquid.

Charles is proud of himself. He succeeded in his mission. He made her cum. Probably for the first time in her life, given how quickly she let it go.

He gets up from between her legs after cleaning her as best he could with his tongue. He licks his two fingers, full of her liquid and also cleans his chin with his hand.

She sits up a little straighter on the sofa, not knowing what to do.

''How was it ?'' He looked at her with a naughty smile. She blushes when she sees him like that, his hair all messy by her hand.

''Incredible.'' She finds herself blushing even more when she admits that Charles makes her feel good.

''You.. want to go further?'' She smiles tenderly at him.

''I'm sorry but I'm so tired after.. my first orgasm.'' Charles chuckled and passed to her, her clothes that were on the floor.

''Never say sorry for refusing to go further.'' He passed his hand through his hair, trying to fix it.

''Can you..Sleep with me ?'' She puts her t-shirt back on and takes out her hair with a gesture of her hands. Charles looks at her doing that, his eyes full of love.

''Of course, princess.'' He winked at him, carrying her suddenly like a princess. She clutches her t-shirt, feeling slightly afraid.

''Cha! Careful!!'' He giggles and places her on her bed.

''Do you mind if I sleep in boxers?'' She finds herself blushing again. She knows that their relationship is no longer the same now.

''No no it's ok.'' He removes his jeans and t-shirt quickly, lying down beside her. She doesn't dare to go against him, not really knowing his reaction.

''Y/n?'' He asked her with a soft voice, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

''Yes Charlie?'' Her eyes are wide open, a knot in her stomach.

''Do you want to be my girlfriend?'' She turns red at his request.

''I..I would love to.'' Charles chuckles and moves his head towards her, kissing her tenderly. His hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him.

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x reader #help he's so cute #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #smut fanfiction #fluff #smut #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16

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