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boop-le-snoot · 1 year

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I just had this vivid scene play out in my brain. Dropped to my knees in a local chain grocery store, had to pretend I was grabbin the bootleg brand chips from the bottom shelf. I'm definitely normal about this. Yea, I'm so abso-fucking-lutely normal about this.

So what if I'm ovulatin'? It ain't me sittin' here clenching my fuckin' thighs, no ma'am, nu-uh. Even my predictive text talks like Daryl now- okay, I may have a tiny little problem. I hope I never, never ever get the chance to look Norman Reedus in the eye.

4.5k words. VERY VERY NSFW. Just sweet and a little rough monkey lovin' where Daryl enjoys something for the simple sake of it feeling good. A little undercooked plot-wise but the smut has been grilled to a perfect medium-rare, slightly juicy, collard greens and mashed potatoes on the side with the mushroom sauce. Two packs of cigarettes later (he owes my lungs an apology),

Imagine you and Daryl going out on a - run, scouting mission, whatever - and hunkering down in a secure cabin for the night. It's summer, it's hot and stuffy inside, but luckily, the cabin has running water, even if it's ice-cold. So you wash up and apply some of the essential-oils-homemade-perfume-thing that someone at the community made for you.

You change into your PJs and come downstairs to amuse yourself til the sun sets completely.

He's smoking next to a crack in the boarded up windows and you, being on friendly terms, banter a bit and bum a cigarette off him. He doesn't mind when you use one of his knees to sit down. As you two joke, you ruffle his hair slightly, not missing the way his eyes narrow in pleasure.

That sparks a conversation about letting oneself to feel good things.

You say that it's different for women because they get judged for wanting to experience pleasure just for the sake of it and Daryl says he always thought it to be stupid. You say that he's not exactly the resident expert on that, which briefly makes his natural competitiveness overshadow his shyness and self-loathing.

Petulantly, he places your hand back in his hair and stresses the purring growl of pleasure as your scratch his scalp and let his moist tresses glide through tour fingers.

You laugh and say you're gonna braid his hair one day, in jest, and he growls back "yer pushin' yer luck, pretty girl," but his smile is hidden rather badly.

In revenge, you stomp out the cigarette and straddle his lap fully, attacking his head with a massage worthy of a spa parlour professional.

He grips your waist as his head hangs forward, a low rumble coming from his mouth as his nose comes that much closer to your neck.

Daryl takes a deep breath, and sensing you unbothered by it, says "ya smell good. like apple pie."

"Oh," he doesn't miss the slight hitch in your breath, "'member when I fixed up the 'lectric in number twelve? they paid me in some essential oil perfume they made. feels nice to... not smell death all day, every day. 's a nice change."

He nods, agreeing, remembering your strong feelings about doing some things just because they feel good. Not because it's useful or to survive, but just for a surge of happy hormones in your bloodstream.

Despite his best efforts to distract his body, one wiggle from you is all it takes for his excitement to be obvious. He freezes, but you adjust simply, politely, keeping your weight off his boner. Confused by your chill attitude, he lifts his head, forcing you to brush all of his hair out of his face.

Daryl feels vulnerable and exposed.

Your eyes slide down to his lips, once, twice, but you - just as stubborn as him - pick them back up. As he parts them to run the tip of his tongue over them in hopes of finding something to say, he notices it fully.

He notices the flush of your skin. His hands move on your waist, provoking another blink-and-youll-miss-it twitch of your fingertips and toes.

Gathering his ducks in a row, Daryl leans into you - your neck, not your lips, not yet - softly running the tip of his nose along your collarbone and up to your jaw.

"That feel good?" Voice gravelly low, it sends reverb through your chest.

"Yeah," you breathe quietly, your fingers in his hair shaking slightly. You lean more into him and that is all the encouragement he needs for the time being.

"Wanna make ya feel good," he admits, dry lips and scratchy stubble gliding along the length of your jaw. His breath is hot on the shell of your ear. "Can I do that, suga'-pie?"

"Mhm," you respond, his cheek now against yours - you rub into him gently, like a cat. The affectionate headbutt makes him chuckle quietly in his throat.

He continues nosing around your neck, feeling the muscles in your back and your thighs unclench one by one. You're practically on top of him, almost right there, over the throbbing erection in his pants, and he feels your control slip away bit by bit.

The flimsy wooden chair you two are sitting on creaks; Daryl doesn't place much trust in it. Planting his feet wide, securing his position, he inadvertently lands your cunt right over his cock. Both of you shudder and hiss at the contact.

The damn chair creaks again.

He curses under his breath, hands sliding down to your ass, hoisting you up and urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he stands up, sending the raggedy chair clattering to the floor.

Your breath catches in your throat, your hands grab at his shoulders, kneading into the meat there. A few steps later, both of you land on the couch heavily; it creaks, too, but your legs have room and your body can finally relax against Daryl as you stabilise yourself on the surface.

He's panting, open-mouthed, looking at you with those stormy blue eyes, searching for something in your earnest, open face.

The corners of your mouth tug up.

He runs his palm over your back, settling on your nape to pull you into him. Your mouths connect; the kiss is slow and unhurried as you take the time to explore each other's mouths. There is no need to rush, no risk of being caught or ambushed; it really feels good. Following someone's advice for once, Daryl lets himself become utterly lost in the sweet kiss.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging softly every now and then, tipping the cup of him ever-so-slightly for short groans to spill into the kiss. Sometimes, you let your hands traverse the hills of his shoulders, the plains of his chest, fingertips poking around the collar of it.

It's overstimulating but at the same time, it's not enough. To give you a hint, Daryl timidly strokes the single bare inch of skin between your shirt and your pants, feeling the goosebumps even through the thick, calloused skin of his working hands.

The way your hips respond: restless and fluid, pressing into him just that much closer, prompts him to slide his hands further under your shirt, mapping the bony ridges of your spine. The skin along it is sensitive on any mammal, that much he knows, so he expects the twitch, expects the breathy moan leaving your lips; he revels in it, the kiss growing humid and sloppy.

Your hands slip into his shirt, finally, your warm palms on his hot skin. He's burning up inside out and you're- you're diligently adding fuel and accelerant to the fire. Blunt nails scratching over his uneven skin, you snag his bottom lip on your teeth as moisture gathers in the corners of your mouths.

The need for oxygen is strong.

Daryl inhales deep as he rests his forehead against yours.

Both of you are panting. Necking like horny teenagers, not a care in the world, no worry for tomorrow; it's near impossible to focus on anything else but the pulsating need at the spots where your bodies are pressed together.

It's all too much but neither of you want it to stop.

"Holy shit," your awed mumble causes Daryl to smirk lightly; as you shift in place, he swears he can smell how wet you are. His jeans must've gotten ruined by now, if not by you then by the weeping of his own cock.

It feels almost regretful to proceed. This exact feeling, if someone could figure out how to bottle it, would have people sellin' their soul for it, Daryl is damn sure.

It's the moment before lightning spears open the stuffy air of a muggy, stormy day. The millisecond before a heavily pregnant cloud gives birth to a solid wall of ice-cold rain; the blink of skies as they generously cool the overheated earth, filling up its parched cracks with invigorating liquid.

"Fuck," Daryl groans, tossing his head back onto the backrest of the couch, watching you through lidded eyes, "whatchu doin' to me, girl?"

You offer him a shaky, sheepish grin before your lust takes over your senses, pushing you back up to him. Your mouth connects with his neck, suckling, licking, nipping at the caramel skin there.

Daryl tastes of cheap soap and clear sweat, that musky scent of gasoline and leather unfurling into notes of pinewood and smoke as you nose deeper; right next to his ear, tickled by his hair, he smells and tastes like the best dessert at the carnival inside the town fair.

A little greasy and drenched in spices. You can't get enough of him. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and lick.

Daryl groans. It's open-mouthed and loud. His hands grab your hips firmly, dragging you over the tent in his pants.

Both of you hiss at the friction.

Your knees wobble as your stance widens in an attempt to cover more surface are, to bring the feeling closer to your clit. There's at least four layers of fabric between your skin and his and it is something that is so sweetly, arduously annoying.

He pushes down again, harder this time, offering another delicious groan that you can't help but swirl in your mouth and recreate. The noise attracts his attention; Daryl watches you, watches your face, the flush on your chest, your heaving breasts. Like many men, he licks his lips utterly unintentionally when his eyes settle on your hard nipples.

Inwardly, you find enough clarity of mind to chuckle. Men and breasts nevel fail to amuse you when placed in close proximity. You push them outwards and his mouth is immediately right there, shirt and all, rolling a stiff nipple gently between his teeth.

The soft, damp cotton adds an edge to it; you feel your underwear slide over your cunt, the fabric absolutely saturated with your arousal.

Daryl's hands knead your ass as he takes in his fill of your breasts.

"That's, fuck," you pant, needing him to know, "that's really fuckin' good."

"Yeah?" He groans wetly before taking in as much of your breast as he can fit in your mouth; there's no finesse to it, just raw, unadulterated need.

"Uh-uh," you nod: his eagerness is what takes the cake.

Daryl tugs your shirt up; up and over your head and fuck knows where it flies, forgotten the moment his lips are back on one nipple, his fingers on the other. He rolls, he bites, he sucks.

Your breasts are wet with spit and sweat.

His breath ghosts over the damp areas, pebbling the tender bud to a state almost frigid.

You moan, loudly, wetly and openly. You gasp, you squirm, anything to quell the restlessness. It's like an army of fire ants trotting their primal, tribal dance under your skin, reducing you to a disoriented mess with a one-track mind. Your fingertips are pale where you hold onto Daryl in a feeble attempt to ground yourself.

He's smirking when he surfaces up. There's spit glistening on his chin, his lips are puffy, the deepest, most delicious shade of maroon. It's obvious the state of your undress and the intensity of your want is echoed by him.

"Feel good?" He has the audacity! to ask.

"Yeah," your response is lackluster in words but the tone and the pleading expression on your face conveys it all: your desire, your desperation.

With you on top of him, the only relief to your aching cunt so far has been provided by his bulge rubbing against your clothed slit. It's not enough, it's not even nearly enough.

Daryl's biceps bulge as he effortlessly lifts you up, "c'mere," placing you back-to-his-chest.

Your legs fall open on your own accord, hanging limply over his muscular thighs. The meat of his cock digs into the cheeks of your ass; you feel it twitch along with you when Daryl's thick palm cups the mound of your pussy in a gesture both tender and possessive.

"Fuckin' shit," his low mumble travels down the shell of your ear, "this all fr'me, sugar?"

"Yes," you breathe out as he slides his middle and ring fingers up and down your slit. There is no hiding it: your cunt had soaked right through your panties and the cotton of your pajama pants.

With some more maneouvering that comes unfairly easy to him (in your opinion), your pants join your t-shirt somewhere in the deepest pits of hell (a far corner of the room). The panties stay on and for that, you're grateful - a little - as the simplest, straightest of touches on the sensitive meat of your cunt feels like clear honey being poured over a-

Daryl taps two fingers at the top of your slit, right where you outer lips part to reveal your swollen clit.

"Fuck!" You yelp.

"So responsive," he mumbles. He sounds fascinated as he spreads his fingers, the rough tips gliding along the skin and the thick meat sliding over the soaked fabric. You quiver and he can't resist running his mouth, "that feel good?" His smirk is a little mocking, a little breathless.

Your resolve hops between strangling Daryl and begging him, the rabbit of your heart leaping in your chest, doing a binky when your lover shows you mercy by moving aside the sticky fabric covering your crotch. It immediately cools and you wince as it touches the hot flesh of your thigh.

Daryl's inhale is sharp, deep and loud as he dips the same two thick fingers inside your slit.

You're swollen and so wet, its practically dripping. Your clit twtiches under his fingers.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales his disbelief, "you like that, huh? This all for me?" The question proves to be rhetoric when the arm that holds you by your waist tightens on you and Daryl grinds his hips up into the small of your back.

The pitch of his voice drops impossibly low, "bet you taste sweet," as he scoops up some of the fluid, fingers snagging on the snug ring of your entrance, before bringing them up to his lips. He noisily sucks your cunt off his fingers, slurping, "fuck yes!"

Your eyes flutter shut as you cunt pitifully clenches around nothing, no doubt making an ever bigger mess between your legs and on his jeans. Your soft whine is an earnest compliment to the man doing his best to clean up your mess.

Daryl repeats the motion several times, scooping up the sticky droplets of your cunt juice, immediately sticking his fingers in his mouth.

You feel a little sad you can't see it, but your imagination supplements that which is lacking. You imagine his brow, furrowed; his eyes, closed; the tight 'o' of his lips around his fingers. Your cunt flexes again, spasming.

Daryl's reward for it is to circle your clit with a featherlight touch of a single finger. His breath is heavy as he reaches lower, same finger sliding to your entrance: not breaching it, just circling, like a predator circles its prey. He must have the patience of a saint.

You, however, do not. Your hips have a mind of their own as they arch into him, your cunt so empty, it practically hurts.

"Tell me whatcha need," Daryl orders, the low of his voice seasoned with a pinch of pride and a pinch of desperation, "tell me, sugar."

"Inside," you keen, out of your mind, "I want you. Inside." There's drool gathering in the corners of your mouth.

Daryl obliges, but not before lubricating the entirety of his thick finger by sliding it over the outside of your cunt, causing another loud keen to fall from your lips.

When he pushes in, you swear you could cry from the sheer relief of finally getting something for your hungry cunt to wrap around.

Experimentally, he drags his finger in and out, slowly, tense as he watches your reaction, before adding in another. To say they're big would be an understatement: long and thick and textured, it's everything your cunt has craved for the past some minutes. Daryl pumps them in and out as you pant through the new sensation, acutely aware of the loud squelches coming from your hole with every plunge.

Your swollen lips and throbbing walls attempt to keep him hostage with every pull.

Daryl curses, something completely unintelligible, his rough voice completely lost to lust. "Gonna cum for me, eh?" He breathes as the contractions of your cunt become quicker, more rhythmic.

Your neglected clit pulses, your nipples are stiff as rocks, your breathing is uneven and shallow. You couldn't find your voice even if you tried; you don't try at all, letting your body do the talking. You fuck back onto his fingers to the best of your limited ability to move as short, loud, primal noises choke their way up your throat.

The throb of his cock against the small of your back is what sends you over the edge.

Daryl's panting, whimpering himself at the unabashed state of your being; you don't think he realises it, even, his eyes set on your cunt gripping onto his fingers.

When it clenches for one last time, you arch, you paint the walls of the room with curses and whimpers that would make even a prostitute blush as more sweet slick drips out your spasming hole and onto his fingers. Your legs tremble as your entire body goes limp in Daryl's hold.

Soft lips rest on the crown of your head, hot, uneven puffs of air frizz your damp hair.

As your brain does a factory reset, you become hyperaware of the hard, thick flesh pressing into you; a stark realization comes over your being, washing your body in a new layer of shivers. Your cunt still tingles, still aches for more.

"Daryl," you mumble, feeling him go stiff and hot, his name like the sweetest honey on your lips, "I want you inside me."

He shudders, he pants, his cock twitches pitifully once again in his pants. The tight denim had provided some relief, enough to focus on you, enough to stretch the time a little bit more. But now, with your body warm and lax and fucked out of your skull, how could he resist?

He didn't want to resist. He wanted to feel good.

In your dazed state, it was easy for him to pick you up, bridal-style, and carry you towards the singular bedroom in the cabin. He grinned at the clumsy way you immediately reached out to him, tangling your fingers in his hair, placing sloppy kisses on the nearest inches of skin you could reach.

The whine you let out when dropped onto the cool comforter?

Daryl's cock twitched demandingly.

The man stood at the foot of the bed, admiring the view: you, blinking up at him, breasts moving with each shallow breath, feet on the comforer and legs bent at the knee, a hint of flushed, swollen pussy peeking out from the crooked gusset of your underwear.

This may not be heaven but it was as close to it as he'll ever get.

The buckle of his belt clinked, denim shuffled as it was left somewhere behind him- Daryl wasted no time dropping to his knees, using two strong hands to bring your cunt up and into his face. The force of his inhale made your sensitive pussy quiver, it was something that made him smile against the fabric of your panties as moved it aside once more - this time with his teeth.

"Oh, fuck!" You yelped as the broad, wide, flat expanse of Daryl's tongue licked messily up your cunt, hole-to-clit.

"Mmm," he groaned, "fuckin' candy apple pussy," taking another taste. And then another, and another until your skin was raw from the stubble of his beard and you were left in a shaking, whimpering, wet mess of a human. His face was drenched. "Messy girl," he chided in a soft mock as your cunt provided him with another gush of arousal, "ya like bein' messy for me, don't cha?"

"Uh-uh," you arched, your usually concise vernacular reduced to whimpers, groans and two-syllable words that barely made any sense to your own ears, much less anyone else's.

Daryl was like a wild animal, lapping up the liquid, uncaring of the mess he made of you and of his own face.

"Please," you fought with your tongue and finally, finally won, "I wanna- uhh," well, maybe not quite.

Momentarily, he withdrew, wiping the side of his face on the inside of your thigh, "you want what? Tell me."

In your state, he could have touched you anywhere and it would have reduced you to a mindless, blabbering mess. So you settled on the next best thing. Your hand, the one that was in his hair, tugged him up - or tried to.

Daryl's responding growl, the shift of his shoulders, the absence of a single hand on your thigh - you knew the tug had him palming himself through his boxers. Another, purposeful tug was given, another growl followed as he stood up.

You weakly pushed yourself up higher on the large bed.

In the dim twilight of the bedroom, Daryl stood, shirt soaked through and through with sweat; his chest heaved as damp strands of hair fell over his face. They were unable to conceal the glistening layer of you on his chin, neither they could hide the blown pupils of his stare. There was almost no blue visible in his eyes.

You licked your dry lips, forcing them to cooperate, "c'mere," your hands stretched out towards him.

Daryl crawled on the bed and over you, sitting between your spread legs. Obedient, he leaned into you, placing sloppy, damp kisses over your face as you wound your arms around his neck. The tent in his boxers hovered less than an inch away from your bare cunt.

"I need ya'," you breathed, tasting yourself as you licked into his mouth, hoping to convey with you body what you couldn't with your words.

"Ya sure, sugar?" Ever the gentleman, Daryl pressed his clothed cock over your bare cunt, ruining his underwear even further; his muscles flexed under your palms.

"Uh-uh," the heat, the feel of his thick cock backtracked any progress you'd made on getting your vocal cords and your brain cooperate. There was nothing but lust and saliva gathered in your mouth now, something that both of you shared during another slow, wet kiss. Your teeth clashed, your tongues ran over each other, all graceless and sloppy.

With one swift, ragged motion of his hand, Daryl shoved his boxers down and over his cock, freeing it from the tight confines; that action alone was enough for him to let out a grunt as the cool air hit his leaking, flushed tip.

The same tip that slapped against your clit, jerking your body and his.

"F-f-fuck," Daryl wheezed, fisting his cock at the base, running the tip slowly over your lips, your clit and down to your hole, "m'not gunna last for shit like this."

Just get inside me!!! You wanted to scream. Instead, you wiggled your hips, you squeezed his shoulders.

The fat head of his cock slipped in, slowly, steadily. More wet, sticky noises got lost in the growl coming from Daryl's gritted teeth.

Your cunt was sucking him in, all wet and hot and snug and constantly flexing, rippling as it adjusted to his size. The roll of your hips that followed was utterly unintentional, driven by the most primitive of instincts.

"Oh, sugar," Daryl grasped your hip tightly, holding it in place, "fuckin' shit. What're you doin' to me, woman?" His speech slurred.

All you could reply was a series of small breaths, 'ah-ah-ah's' with every inch of his cock sliding into you, until you felt his heavy balls pressed against your ass.

If your eyes weren't clenched shut, you would have seen the wild look in Daryl's eyes, the way they darted between the blissed-out look on your face and the root of his cock secured against the entrance of your cunt.

Slowly, he withdrew, hissing at the smooth pleasure of your wet pussy sliding over his cock, and then he slammed back in.

Your body curled, arched; a shriek left your lips at the sudden realization. You held onto him tightly, his shoulders, his arms; the sweet feel of his skin, slick with sweat, bombarded your senses, drowning you in that natural, masculine smell of him.

You babbled some nonsense, something about how good he felt, how he fit just right and so nicely, how he was so good to you-

"You're so good to me," Daryl objected, Daryl stated, "s'fuckin' sweet. My sweet, messy girl."

The words alone brought you closer to the edge as he hammered away inside your oversensitive cunt. In fairness, he could have flicked your clit just once, or even taken his mouth to one of your hard, throbbing nipples-

Daryl's need to feel you come, to clench and gush around his rock-hard cock was at the forefront of his mind, followed closely by awe at the way your body molded perfectly against his. The way your thighs quivered as they attempted to wrap themselves around his hips, the desperation in your grip on his shoulders.

"Fuck!" He cursed, teethering at the very edge of his orgasm, "come for me, pretty girl, c'mon," he urged, swallowing his own moans and gasps.

"I- uh," you, too were almost right there. The coil in your stomach at its most tense, it sent small tremors inside your cunt, shocks of pure, hot, liquid ecstasy-

That traveled down Daryl's cock. Like damn rings during a heated game of muckers, the spasms of your cunt collected at the root of his shaft, one on top of the other, until he could do nothing else but rut roughly, sloppily into the equally sloppy mess of your cunt.

He felt it. It began somewhere at the deepest part of you, squeezin' the head of his cock firmly and traveling all the way down his shaft, until each ring of pleasure popped, releasing his seed into you-

Throbbing, your cunt pushed and gushed, a flash of lightning zapping your clit as Daryl's pubic bone ground into it with force. A hoarse scream tore from your throat, your body curling inward with the force of your orgasm. Strong, heavy spasms of his cock shooting hot ropes into you lulled you into the aftershocks.

It made both of your bodies limp with exhaustion. The cord had snapped and tension finally leaked out, dissolving like smoke and fog into the open air.

Sweaty, sticky and hot, the two of you panted your relief onto each other's cheeks.

Your lips connected with the rough stubble on Daryl's. Hair hung over his face, obscuring your smile.

"Whatchu grinnin' at?"

Boy, did he sound fucked-out. All smoke and gravel and spice and everything nice.

"Feels good."

"Heh," he chuckled, the noise coming from somewhere deep within his chest, "sure does."

#WHEW I NEED TO BE NEUTERED Y'ALL #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x female reader #twd smut #fuckin' tiktok editors wirh their fuckin sexy edits #fuckin norman reedus with his stupid fuckin face #ALL OF YOU GET OUT #of my head #please.

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callsign-marlie · 2 years

Text

Hey Pretty Girl

The Five Times Jake calls you his favorite pet name + one bonus little baby taste of angst :3

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader genre: FLUFF warnings: unedited, light teasing and innuendos, mention of pregnancy and child birth, no y/n used a/n this is total fluff and it was just what I needed. very short in comparison to my normal things but i almost wanna do all of the young pilots with this prompt and a different quote each time, it was so wholesome ;^;

Please feel free to like, comment and reblog. Much appreciated and much love - marlie x

---

The First

“Hey pretty girl, slide me a bud, will ya?”

Blonde hair and blue eyes, a coy smile. Tanned skin pinched with a glaze sunned pink at the top of his cheeks and a clean pressed khaki uniform. The cap popped off of the glass with a fizz before you slid the bottle to him. “$5.50 for the boy in brown.”

“The boy,” he scoffed. Thick fingers gripped around the neck of the brew to coat his nails in condensation. The amber liquid swirled the enclosure of glass as he placed the rim to his lips. His eyes never left yours. “Not a boy. A man, darlin’. More of a man than any one you’ve had before tonight, I can assure you that.”

“And who said I wanted you, fly boy?” Your elbows were on the bar, leaning over the mahogany top. Even with the challenge of cleavage at your disposal, he never broke away from your gaze.

“Your eyes say enough. See ya soon, gorgeous.” He scribbled his name on the merchant copy of his receipt. A wink, the shine of a grin, and away he turned.

You grabbed at the soggy slip of paper to find chicken scratch handwriting with ‘Jake’ and a phone number written on the bottom. Jake, huh?

The Second

“Hey pretty girl, that spot’s perfect. Just like me, right?”

He had bought you a bundle of sunflowers on a whim. They were gorgeous and tall, standing bright against the navy of your entry way in the antique crystal vase your mom had given you. Jake had cleaned up nicely in a crisp button down and slacks for your date to the local brewery down on the coast and had bought the bouquet for you on the ride home from a local farm stand. “Now you can think of me every time you leave the house and smile to start your day.”

You rolled your eyes, an endeared grin on your face. “You’re an ass, Seresin.”

“Maybe, but I’m your ass and that makes me the best ass around,” he chimed, jokingly hitting the back of his rump. “And this ass ain’t leavin’ for quite some time doll.”

“Then tell me, baby, what happens if the flowers die? How would I ever remember you then?” You lovingly wrap your arms around the top of his shoulders, careening up on your tiptoes to touch his nose with yours.

His fingertips brushed a strand of hair that roguishly fell into your eyes. His eyes were the color of sea grass and his gaze was softly focused on your lips. “Guess we’re just gonna have to go on more dates so I can get you more, right?”

The Third

“Hey pretty girl, may I have this dance?”

The reception was over and your feet were on fire, but you were finally home in your little shared apartment on base. Your hand, now coveted by a new diamond wedding band, sparkled under the high hat lights as Jake helped you up from the couch to the smooth sounds of John Mayer echoing in the background. Your white gown sweeped against the floor as he pulled you to his chest.

Jake, your perfectly perfect Jake, dropped a soft kiss to your forehead, to the tip of your nose, to your lips. “Mrs. Seresin,” he whispered at each pass of his lips. You let your bare feet stand atop his, still encased in his military issued loafers and let his strong legs take you on a slow rock in your living room. It was the first time today that the two of you had been just alone: where the room wasn’t vibrating with clinking glasses or loud party music.

Jake swayed with you gently even as the song changed, his hands dropped to your waist to rest on the crest of your bejeweled bum. You raised an eyebrow at your cheeky husband, who simply rolled his eyes and gave a boyish grin. “Just let me enjoy this baby.”

The Fourth

“Hey pretty girl, lemme help you, hold on.”

Jake’s large hands snuck underneath your rounded belly, lifting just enough weight to let your spine relax under the constant pressure of pregnancy. The dishes you were washing were suddenly forgotten and slipped from your fingers. A blissful sigh. “Ohhh, that’s the stuff, don’t stop.”

“Damn, all of my talent in bed and I’ve never heard you sound like THAT before,” he huffed, slowly letting your belly back down. “All I had to do was lift up peanut here and you’re putty, huh?”

You pouted at the returning strain and snatched his hands back to place. You tilted your head to the side to leave a kiss and a teasing nip on his bicep. His fingers tickled over your skin in amusement.

“Uh-uh, don’t even think about it, Seresin. You stay right there.”

The Fifth

“Hey pretty girl, I’m your daddy.”

Tears were welling up in his eyes while he held the small pink bundle in his arms. She was so sleepy after making her grand entrance, kicking and yelling the entire birth. “Oh my god, I’m your daddy!”

“She looks just like you.” You were laying in your bed, completely spent, but glowing after all of your hard work pushing your new little love into the world. “You’re gonna be a great daddy, Jake.”

“And you’re gonna be a great mommy, honey girl.” He carefully made his way over to the bed and sat on the side to let your little girl close. Her eyes were closed and soft little breaths were leaving her mouth. Jake leaned over to plant a chaste kiss into your hair, your nose, your lips. He lingered longer than normal, touching his forehead to yours.

“My pretty girls. All mine, all mine, until the day I die. I’ll never want nothing more than this.”

Bonus: The Sixth

“Hey pretty girl, I’m alright.”

You launched yourself at your husband, tears streaming down your face. He winced under your arms, but did his best to wrap himself around you through all of the wires tubing he was attached to. Safe. His smooth hands rubbed up and down your back as you sobbed into his shoulder, leaving light taps on his back. “Don’t. You. EVER. Do. That. Again.”

“What, eject? It’s either that or die, and I’m too good to die while I’m still so young and handsome. You don’t want me to leave you a widow so soon, do you?” His megawatt smile showed reassurance, but you weren’t so sure it was real. You knew Jake better than he knew himself. His eyes, blackened from his impact, held something behind them that wasn’t there before: a fear. His façade was cracking at your worry.

“You won’t lose me, pretty girl. I’ll be here. I’m not leaving.”

“Promise me?” Your eyes just wouldn’t stop tearing up. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” His fingers made an ‘x’ over his heart. “And I really, really don’t wanna die. I have my whole life with you to look forward to.”

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick ff #jake seresin #jake seresin ff #hangman top gun #hangman fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #HANGMAN.#god i love this douche so much man

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notjustjavierpena · 9 months

Text

Him

A/N: Part 3 of Mean!Joel coming straight to ya. This is a big mishmash of emotions, I’m sorry, but something has to lead to part 4.

Summary: You find a dress during a supplies run but Joel doesn’t give a shit about you looking nice for him.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dub-con and mentions of non-con, dirty talk, painful and rough PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, fingering, pussy slapping

Word count: 4.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48179338/chapters/121494847

Him

There’s the distinct smell of mold and old basement in the abandoned apartment complex. Joel has told you to stay close to him, but as soon as he tells you that the place is clear, you wander off and he grumbles something about it being your funeral.

“Only what’s necessary,” he had said on the way up the stairs, still clutching onto his rifle as if something could come out of the shadows any second despite your thorough investigation of the place.

You go through each room of your selected condo, but there is nothing interesting to be found. There had been a convenience store last week which had been picked over except for a few toothbrushes. You had given the toothbrushes to a couple of the kids back at Jackson, but still been bummed that you have yet to find something that you can take home just for yourself. Last month, some of the other women had found a box of old 2000s clothes and you had been disappointed at not having been there with them as they chose whatever they wanted. You are still empty-handed.

That is, until now.

In the master bedroom, you go through the clothes that whoever used to live here has left behind. It isn’t a particularly thrilling closet, but you think it almost feels like shopping as you push the hangers to the side along the metal bar one by one. Everything has been eaten by moths.

“Find anything?” Joel pops his head through the door, walks closer a second after to see what you are doing. He rolls his eyes, “Find anything of importance?”

You give him a pointed look, but he just returns it.

“These are boring anyw—“ you stop at a garment that’s wrapped in a protective travel bag made of plastic. It makes you raise a brow, unzipping the front of the garment bag only to reveal a short, expensive-looking cocktail dress. You pull it off its hanger and hold it up in front of you, “I think this is my size.”

“Yippee,” he deadpans, but you see him glancing down at the garment and you hope that he is imagining you in it, “I said only useful things.”

“You actually said necessary,” you remind him and he scoffs, shifts, and turns away from you. Anyone who witnesses your interaction will never guess that you are sleeping together, but you like the fact that you despise him outside of the bedroom. It makes it even more fun and satisfying when he finally gives in to come fuck you.

You feel the satin fabric between your fingers. It’s in good condition, having been saved from moths by being packed away in a plastic garment bag. It’s a classic little black dress where the hem stops just above the knees and the slit in the side leaves just enough for the imagination. You hook your fingers into the spaghetti straps and watch the way the fabric falls around the chest area. It’s very simple and elegant, and nothing like anything you’ve ever owned, “I like it. I’m taking it with me.”

“Whatever,” Joel says after a sigh.

You stuff the dress into your bag, determined to restore it to its former glory.

Joel never tells you when he will stop by and you don’t ask in case it will come off as begging for his attention. Despite this, you have a hunch of his intention to have his way with you whenever he starts acting differently around you; looks at you whenever he thinks you aren’t paying attention to him, ravishing you with his eyes that get just a little bit darker than when he normally glances your way.

Additionally, he gets more short-tempered with your never-ending snark, and you swear that today you could see his hand twitch by his side as if he was desperate to yank you away from the rest, itching to grab whatever he could in that moment even if it meant pulling you back to your place by your hair. It had really set your next encounter in stone when you’d called him a caveman without the others hearing. The rest of the day had been him fidgeting like crazy.

You know that he doesn’t realize these tells, because he’d never give you the satisfaction of having him figured out, but oh how you wish that his stupid, overly aggressive behavior is deliberate and all for you.

You look at yourself in the bedroom mirror after sliding on the dress, knowing you’ll see him soon because he is a man of habit and you’re his vice.

It is rare that you see yourself dressed up like this, but the butterflies that you feel in your stomach as you gaze at your reflection make you certain that Joel will like this in just the right way.

At that, the butterflies move down between your legs where you are not wearing anything to cover you. You dip your hand between your thighs, pushing the fabric inwards, and it over your mound. You try to tell yourself that you’ve skipped the underwear because it would be visible underneath the fabric of the dress, but you know the real reason is him. You hate yourself for hating him to the point where he floods your mind whenever he isn’t here.

You want to pull the dress up over your hips, rub your clit that’s throbbing in anticipation, but instead, you just wait.

When your waiting comes to an end, you hear Joel violently open the front door downstairs, ripping at the handle and calling your name multiple times to which you do not respond. There’s always a game here; where it had started out being a real refusal of him, it has turned into something else. The moment he had made you come the first time, you knew there was no going back to what was before. Now, you enjoy the cat-and-mouse act where you want him to corner you.

Joel looks tense and impatient when he steps into your bedroom, but he doesn’t say anything for you to read the tone of his voice. He is aggressively shrugging off his jacket, biting into a leather glove’s fingertip to pull it off his hand before moving to the other and doing the same.

The gloves suggest that he has worked late today and not showered as you have, that he has taken his frustrations towards you out on hard labor but to no avail; he has still walked in here, too turned on to pass your house on his way home.

His outerwear ends up on the floor beside him and then he stalks after you. He is hard in his jeans, his eyes cold and black with desire, and for some reason, you find yourself backing away just because he still hasn’t opened his mouth.

“Get the fuck back here,” he seethes. He grabs your arm and pulls, too fast for you as you try to take another step away, “Why didn’t you come when I called ya?”

“Sorry, I-I…”

“You come when I call. Full stop,” he traps you against your bedroom wall and doesn’t acknowledge the dress whatsoever. The hand on your arm slides up until it rests at your throat, squeezing without doing too much damage to your windpipe whilst he examines your face. He needs you to talk, “Do you understand?”

His nostrils flare whilst you nod frantically. The grip on your throat has you lightheaded, but you think that you might want it like this, to be just on the edge of getting tunnel vision so you can see only him. He looks beautiful like this, you think, angry like a God, but your thoughts are interrupted and you moan as he shakes you a little.

“Words, use ‘em, you fuckin’ bimbo.”

“Yes, I understand,” you croak, but he mustn’t think that you give in so easily. There are a million snarky comments to select from in your head, but he doesn’t give you time to choose your favorite when he makes you cough as he lets go of your neck.

“You needa take this stupid fuckin’ dress off or I’ll rip it to pieces. You know I will,” he growls, and you bite your tongue to keep yourself from saying something to spite him. Something to hurt his huge masculine ego and compare him to a Neanderthal. So much for looking nice for his pleasure.

Additionally, so much for scrubbing the fabric of the dress you had found in the abandoned condo until your hands were raw. In the end, it doesn’t surprise you that he doesn’t give a damn because he hadn’t even been enthusiastic when you had shown it to him during your supplies patrol together. You’d hoped that it had just been because he hadn’t seen you in it.

With a sour expression, you yank at the straps and Joel lets out a condescending huff of a laugh as he watches. You slide the straps off your shoulders and down your arms until you can pull at the top of the dress to guide it down your body. When it reaches the swell of your hips, you wiggle your ass until it pools at your feet. Joel goes quiet at the realization that you’ve gone commando.

“You were prepared, huh? Easy fuckin’ access. All I had to do was just pull it up over your ass, but ya wanted me to find out like this,” Joel tuts, immediately placing a foot between your feet. Gross, you think to yourself at hearing those words but you also realize, with the way that your walls flutter in a delicious clench of your cunt, that you like gross. Joel holds a hand out, and you get ready for the worst, but he simply cups your whole mound in his enormous hand, “Filthy girl, I fuck you that good? So good you wanna be ready for cock like that?”

All confidence seeps out of you in an instant, because fuck, he is touching you and you almost forget how much it turns you into a little obedient dog. You gasp and find yourself pathetically nodding in an aroused state that has taken hold of you so quickly that you are feeling dizzy. You think, perhaps, that it has something to do with how it felt the last time the two of you were together. You don’t think you’ve ever come so many times in a row, kicking your legs, crying and screaming in pleasure as he reveled in your painful oversensitivity. He had promised that it would hurt, and it did, deliciously, for several days afterward. You miss being able to have a reminder of him with every step you take.

You realize now that the dress probably came off as a laughable attempt at making him have his wicked way with you once more instead of pleasing him.

Pleasing him.

Pleasing. Him.

Fuck.

Two thick fingers press into you and the ability to elaborate on the thought of wanting to do something nice for him disappears. Instead, you keen loudly and throw yourself back into the wall with a thump. He sinks his digits knuckle-deep into your sex, and it hurts because he doesn’t give you time to adjust.

You furrow your brows, looking down at where the heel of his hand is pushing into your clit. You take what you can get to soothe the stretch of your pussy, grinding your hips into his palm with a mewl. Your mouth hangs open in an o-shape and you’re already panting for him, desperate to come as he harshly takes his annoyance out on your g-spot. His fingers are warm inside of you from the gloves despite how he has just come from the outside, and they drag deliciously outwards along your walls again and again.

It makes you come with a soft cry not long after. He settles his fingers inside of your cunt as you clamp down on them, a gush of your arousal dripping down into his palm as you shake and try to hold yourself up.

Joel laughs at the dazed look in your eyes when you come down. He thrusts his fingers inside of you once more without warning before removing them altogether, smirking at the gasp you let out from being empty so soon again.

“Joel.”

You don’t know why you’re saying his name, but it makes him go a little softer. He still has his hand between your legs, fingers slowly sliding back and forth through your slick folds. It feels good, your hips stuttering each time the pads of his fingers slip across your clit, “Ya want more, sweetheart? Tell me what ya want. Ain’t that hard to use your words.”

“I missed you,” you dare to breathe because it’s true. Although it’s not so much him as it is the way he makes you feel between your legs.

He brings down his hand on your pulsing mound and clit. It makes you nearly fall to your knees but he catches you, wrapping his strong arms around you as you slump against him. It’s the post-orgasmic sensitivity that’s making it hurt like you didn’t know it could, and suddenly you have tears in your eyes from the stinging heat the slap has left. You quickly blink them away because he spits abuse at you, and you won’t give him the satisfaction of making you come and then cry, “Shut the fuck up. Don’t give me any of that pussy shit.”

It’s a weird contrast to being held, but you suppose that he can’t fuck you if you fall face-first into the wooden floorboards and earn yourself a bad concussion. You wouldn’t put it past him though, knowing he’d probably laugh at the gibberish that you’d blabber as you came on his dick without being able to recall it the next day.

Joel carries you in his arms, drags your feet across the floor until he can throw you onto your bed. You lie on top of the covers and look at him with glazed eyes, watching him unbuckle his belt and shove his jeans down impatiently. He undresses the rest of himself in a hurry, showing little mercy for the flannel he is wearing as he nearly pops off its buttons. It seems like a chase to get to you, but Joel has no opponents, and he’ll never have any.

“If ya can’t use your mouth for anything other than soundin’ like a little girl begging for my attention, then you might as well have it put to other use,” he says matter-of-factly. He kneels onto the bed then, crawls forward on his knees, and settles one on either side of your head.

His dick impressively stands into the air, an angry red color to the head that begs for touch and threatens to drip with precome. It’s never felt more inviting to suck him off, even despite the obvious unease that you’d felt the last time that he had had his dick in your mouth.

When the bead of precome finally becomes too big and slides down his length, you respond by greedily letting your mouth fall open. He slides the fat head past your lips. The girth of him already has your jaw aching, but you take him in as far as you can and use your fist for what doesn’t fit. Your wrist twists as you work him in unison with your mouth.

You set up a slow pace, bobbing your head despite the knowledge of how strained your neck will be in the morning when you are lying down like this. The strain is worth it all though, because you earn a moan from him. It tells you exactly how you’re doing; it’s low and guttural above you. Your pussy screams for more.

With your lips closed around him, you suck him off in earnest to get another reaction. You hollow your cheeks whenever you draw off of him, and whilst you’re at the tip, you run the flat of your tongue along the sensitive underside.

Not that it should surprise you at this point, but no matter how hard you try to start slow and steady, Joel becomes enthusiastic about his own pleasure very quickly and it leaves very little empathy for you. He thrusts forwards, practically burying his cock down your windpipe and you immediately start to shed big, wet tears.

“Fuck,” he moans quietly into the room. He stares down at you, one large hand cupping your cheek to hold you in place if you try to squirm away. Your tears slide down over the back of his hand, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Your whimper vibrates along his hard length as he starts using your throat. With his generous size, it’s hard to breathe without choking. The air simply won’t go down your lungs in the way this overwork on your body demands. It causes you to drool, slicking his dick as spit pools in your mouth. It begins to dribble down your chin, his balls smacking wetly against it.

You’re a complete and utter mess beneath him with your nose buried in his happy trail. You take his brutal stabs to the back of your throat in stride and relax your neck muscles to take him as far as humanly possible.

His free hand curls around your hair. Occasionally, he pulls it instead of moving his hips. Your head swims, your tears flow and your throat continuously gags with obscenely wet noises. He is so noisy above you. It keeps focus on your throbbing clit instead of your pained jaw.

From his breathing, you can hear that Joel is getting closer to coming. He gets a little louder, hips stuttering and dick pulsing just a bit more on your tongue. He suddenly pulls back with a force that tells you that he has used every fiber of self-restraint to do it. You didn’t think that his caveman behavior would make him able to edge himself.

“Shit, that was too close,” he grits out between pants, moving back on you again until he is between your legs. He squeezes around the base of his cock whilst you cough violently.

“Can’t handle a little deep-throating?” You tease hoarsely.

“Fuck you,” he snaps, mercilessly pulling your legs apart by reaching behind himself and grabbing your ankles. He digs his nails into your legs as he slides his hands upward again, smacks one of your thighs aggressively, jiggling the flesh after.

“Yes, please,” you moan at the tiny sting he has caused to your upper leg, “Please, Joel. Fuck me.”

“Turn around,” he commands.

“But I wanna see you,” you start but it sounds way too sugary, “-r face when you come inside me.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t wanna see ya,” he says with little affection, drawing a circle in the air, “Do as you’re told and turn around. I can leave if—“

“No!” You protest a little too quickly. It earns you a smug smile that tells you Joel’s ego has grown three sizes in a mere second. God, you despise how needy he makes you.

You move onto your front, lying flat on your belly. You turn your face to the side, grabbing at whatever of the sheets you can curl your fingers into. Joel shuffles behind you, reaches for your hips to angle your pelvis and you help him by bending your knees and pushing your legs out to the sides.

Suddenly, his crushing weight is on top of you so he can whisper filth in your ear and keep you on the verge of insanity as you wait for him. You let out a soft sound as air is knocked out of your lungs and you feel like your pelvis might snap in half. It helps that his lips attach to the space where your neck meets your shoulder, biting more than sucking.

“Gonna make ya cream yourself on my dick, honey,” he promises with confidence in his voice, still high on his ego trip from before. Your body responds with several somersaults in your lower abdomen, your pussy clenching at its emptiness and demand for more.

“Oh fuck, Joel, n-need you to make it hurt… till I can’t breathe, baby.”

“Yeah?” He stretches again, gets comfortable on his knees, and jiggles the flesh of your behind before smacking your ass hard. He spreads your cheeks to spit down the cleft of your ass, watching it run down over your puckered hole and further down over your pussy. It earns you a groan, “This pussy is so ready for me. Look at it drippin’.”

Then you feel him pushing into you with brutal force until you can do nothing else, but mewl weakly. It feels like he is splitting you open right down the middle of your lower body, rough hands holding you in place by your waist.

He never fails to give you exactly what you ask for. Even despite this, you put on a show of trying to crawl away from him and you’re rewarded by another hard slap to your ass. Joel moans as it makes you clench around him.

“You stay right here where I want ya,” he growls, setting up a rhythm that makes you want to sob. He is bruising you to the point where your eyes water, filling you to the brim with every thrust and slamming the fat head of his cock into your front wall where his little favorite spot is. When you whine loudly and wantonly, he laughs darkly, “Greedy little whore. You’re fucking shameless, ain’t you? Don’t even try— fuck. You don’t even try to hide how much you want it.”

“Yes, fuck Joel, keep going,” you egg him on as your g-spot is getting the treatment it needs to make you scream. You arch your back a little by lifting your head from the mattress, and Joel takes it as an opportunity to slide his right hand around the front of your throat until he can contort your body to accept each hard thrust without slipping away.

The new angle makes you grip the sheets so hard that you think you might tear the fabric. Fuck it, you think, they’re old ones anyway, and with the way that you are gushing around Joel’s dick, you think you might just throw them out after this. There’s no way you’re going to give them the same treatment as the dress if no one will appreciate it.

Joel’s hand moves up to cup your whole jaw. His other hand is bound to leave a mark on your hip bone, bracing himself on it as he pounds you until he can feel tears run down over the fingers on your chin. He kisses your back, slides his tongue up to your shoulder where he plants a wet kiss. It helps with staying focused and soothes you a little as he relentlessly moves inside of you.

He tilts your head back afterward, moves his hips a little forwards without slipping out to tower over your body. His thumb drags down on your chin, leaving your mouth a little open.

And then he kisses you for the first time ever, right on your open mouth whilst bottoming out over and over inside of your cunt right where you need him the most. You melt into his lips, delirious with pleasure that’s sending you closer to the edge and pain that’s going to linger for a few days.

But it’s neither the pain nor pleasure that unravels you in his arms. It’s the fact that you are being allowed something so intimate from him, causing tears to spill as he tears down the pleasure that he’s built inside of your belly. You come with a feeble sob, clamping down on his cock which feels bigger now that your cunt is quivering with pleasurable shocks.

It’s too much for him. He thrusts a few times more before his hips stutter. He buries himself inside your pussy, the tip of his dick nudging your cervix. You feel his warm load fill you up, wet squelches echoing through your quiet bedroom as he fucks you through his aftershocks.

Your thighs are aching, your fingers too. Your cunt is a whole other story, painfully sensitive as he pulls out with a moan and rolls off of you.

It doesn’t matter. Absolutely none of it matters. Not a single fucking thing matters besides the way that he is pulling you down onto his chest, still kissing you on the lips, roughly in the beginning, but slowly now that his energy is spent.

After a while, he starts to move.

“No,” you whine, “Stay. Please.”

“I can’t,” he mumbles, “That ain’t how this works.”

He leaves ten minutes later, but you ache more from heartbreak than the bruises that have started to form on your skin.

Taglist: @aestheticangel612 @moonand2saturn @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #my writing #the last of us #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel x you #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #mean!joel

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rodeoxqueen · 5 months

Note

Buckle up, because we're about to make (well, I guess more in this case have) some good domestic tunes! So, Dante and his S/O doing some house chores like doing dishes together or washing clothes together and chatting about the daily shenanigans in the Sparda fam? I just need some good slice-of-life-y with my man and delivered by you is truly a delight, dear Rodeo! It's also my first time requesting on non-anon here, btw hehe, cherry kisses for ya! ❤

HOWDY HOW YOU DOIN'?? Here's some headcanons for domestic Dante. I'm a bit burnt out from school but this is what I was able to write in my spare time.

Love,

Rodeo

Being Domestic With Dante!

Expect that if you don't do chores with Dante, he won't do them himself. He loves your attention and begrudgingly does chores with you to spend more time with his beloved.

Especially dishes. God he hates dishes.

And LAUNDRY. He'd rather just buy more clothes.

So when you first start dating, you get your work cut out for you.

Eventually, you and him form a symbiotic relationship with keeping house. If you both do it together, you're positively unstoppable.

Dante loves to talk and you often find yourselves gossiping like middle school girls over a rack of dishes to clean and dry.

He'll always squeeze in a little hip bump as he is an audaciously flirty man no matter how long into the relationship you guys are in.

If you bend over to grab the laundry from the machine, just expect a swat to your ass as this man cannot help himself.

Dante is a bit of a bum when it comes to doing laundry regardless, so it's a good thing you're here to help him with it.

He also knows what you can do in your spare time while you wait for the machines to do their thing ;).

Dante puts the dishes up higher and cleaning supplies where you cannot reach so you have to ask for his help. He also likes to see you on your tippy toes anyways.

Dante starts looking forward to Sundays when you two keep house.

You can find him sliding along the hallways in his white socks while singing a song, dusting as he goes along.

"Hey babe?" you ask, looking for the detergent.

"Yeah-*CRASH*" Dante is cut off, his smooth path deterred as he trips over the carpet from sliding around.

What a mess.

It's nice to have you there to keep your shared home nice. When Dante was younger, he was alone so it didn't matter what the place looked like.

However now, he's got a sweet doll like you in his life to make sure that everything is in tip top shape.

He's so grateful for the fact that there is work to be done around the house.

It means more time with you <3.

#devil may cry #dante x reader #devil may cry headcanons #devil may cry imagines #dante #dante sparda #dante headcanons

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whiskeynwriting · 9 months

Text

Pretty Boy

John “Soap” McTavish x Scottish!Female Reader

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Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Alcohol consumption, size kink for SURE, oral sex (f receiving, brief mention of m receiving), squirting, PDA, fluffiessss, aftercare, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, some hair pulling (baby boy receiving), biting/marking, possessive Johnny (BABY)

◆

A/N: Johnny is younger here and early in his military life, maybe two-ish years 🥰 There’s also some Scottish Gaelic in here! As always, with the translations (:

Thank you @thesleepingmusicneek for beta-reading once again 😊

◆

John “Soap” McTavish Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

It’s comforting, coming here, especially under the pretense of genuine fun. No longer visiting just to drink away your worries, indulging to simply forget. No, the first six months were filled with that, and afterwards, you’d had enough. You needed to live.

Pushing yourself to be active within your town’s nightlife was difficult at first. Before he left, there wasn’t a night where you’d make an appearance here without him. That extroverted energy was so abundant that it flowed to you, too. But being here alone is nice, it’s new, and serves as a fairly decent distraction. It’s also helped you cope with meeting new people, friends and those with the possibility of being something more. You’ve yet to entertain that idea yet, though, the… something more. That, you still couldn’t get past.

“Hey, love! Drinking tonight?”

“Why else would I be here?” Returning with your own question, the bartender grins.

With a shrug, Duncan responds, “Could be my good looks.”

“Yeah, yer bum’s oot the windae.” In short, yeah right. He often made you laugh, always being one to joke. “I’ll have some Scotch.” And just as he walks away, you specify, “Speyside.”

The atmosphere is lively tonight, as it often was on a Friday. In this particular pub, the lights dimmed when night rolled around, offering a moody ambiance. The music didn’t slow, though, the band only continued the same spirited songs. Here, you felt welcomed, you felt like you belonged. Surrounded by your heritage, traditional tunes and familiar faces, tart liquor and raucous voices. Smiling and conversing with your friends came easy, the small town allowing you to know just about everybody in the vicinity.

Friends from secondary school were enough of a distraction, pulling you aside for shots and dances. Even strangers made their way into your groups, becoming kin by the night’s end.

“His name’s Alex!”

Glancing over at the red-haired man, you force a smile on your lips. “Good to know.”

“He’s fancied you for a while, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know…” It couldn’t be more obvious, and neither could your disinterest.

The mere thought of fucking another man was honestly repulsing to you. And sure, you don’t have to fuck him, but that’s certainly where any night with Alex will head. Besides, you’re still so used to him, your Johnny. It hasn’t even been that long since you last had him. Longer than usual, but short enough to still remember.

“I’m gonna, uh…” Eyes darting to the side, you gulp. “Go to the bathroom.”

She feels bad, your friend, knowing she pressured you a bit. But she can’t help it, she just wants you to get over him. And everyone here agrees. There’s little chance of him coming back, you should just get used to that. And maybe you will, in your own time.

With slow steps, you take your time getting to the washroom, trying your best to keep your spirits light. It’s a night out, after all, this should be fun. And it was before that eejit came along to ruin it. He didn’t even do anything but he honestly doesn’t have to. He’s made enough unwelcome advances to deter you.

Just as you’re beginning to dwell in your sadness, you pass by the wall of polaroids lining this short hallway. It was Duncan’s idea, taking photos of all the regular patrons. Instantly, you’re drawn toward the picture of both you and him, that night a memory you still hold dearly to your chest. The pair of you look like absolute fools, you’re surprised you remember anything from that night.

“Now, right now!”

Your ribs ached from laughter as he pulled you in his direction, stumbling over your own feet like a little baby.

“Wait!” A hiccup popped from your throat, which made Johnny snicker. “I’m fair puckled!” Holding your stomach, you took in a few lungfuls of air, regaining your breath. But Johnny didn’t care.

“C’mon, bonnie.” He insisted, hauling an arm around your shoulder.

With your chuckles subsiding, you stood beside him, posing for Duncan to take your picture. Reaching down, Johnny grabbed your jaw with his dominant hand, pinching your cheeks and bringing your head closer to him. Your hands clinged to his side as he placed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, and that’s just when the photo was taken. Johnny all over you, pressing his lips to your face while your eyes pinched shut with a happy grin.

“My sweet bonnie.” He always said.

After your trip, you return to the bar, sick and tired of dancing and interacting. Inside, you’re not sure how to feel. The memories you have of Johnny are bittersweet. So much love and friendship, for all of it to dissipate into simply… nothing. Or at least, that’s what your friends would have you believe.

“Two glasses of Scotch, Dunc.”

As soon as that voice hits the air, your eyes widen, instantly flashing over to Duncan’s. While towel-drying one of the bsr’s glasses, he grins, giving you a knowing nod.

“Speyside.” The voice then specifies, finally prompting you to turn your head.

And standing beside you, leaning against the bar’s edge, is a taller, broad man. Arms lined with tan and sculpted muscles, smile bright and blue eyes even brighter. But the part that stands out the most, the part that makes him… him, is that longer stripe of hair running across the top of his head.

“Johnny!” Squealing his name, you throw yourself into his arms, already open and waiting.

“Bonnie,” That deep chuckle vibrates through his chest and into your own, smile growing evermore. The familiar scent of sweet patchouli wafts from his body, chiseled muscles holding you against his chest. Your entire body tenses with excitement, butterflies erupting in your belly when he tucks his head into your neck - he still loves me.

“You’re back.” Your tone wavers a bit as you say it, feeling his nose nuzzle lightly against your skin. Lifting your hand, your fingers brush through the longer air at the nape of his neck, standing on your tip-toes to fully encircle your arms around him. His body feels firm, sturdy and muscular, even more so than before.

“Yeah,” He says with a soft voice, rubbing your back fondly. “Few months late, but who’s countin’?”

Leaning back, you scoff, giving his hardened chest a little smack. “Me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Johnny quips, rolling his eyes as he pulls you back in. “All in the past. I’m home now, baby.”

With the way you’re speaking to each other, you’d think you were still together. But that’s not how things are, not anymore. Not… officially. But with him returning home every six months, you’d come to expect these “surprise” arrivals.

“I was starting to think you’d never come back.” Admitting quietly, you release a contented breath. This time around, six months turned to ten, and your hopes were quickly deflated. And the advice and comments of your friends didn’t help.

“Hey,” He chastises lightly, frowning. “Don’t give up on me that easily.”

Sliding the glasses onto the bartop, Duncan pushes one toward you, and one toward him. With stars in your eyes, you watch Johnny lift the glass, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a swig. His biceps flex slightly as he lifts and lowers the cup, the gray fabric around his midsection hugging him tightly. The way his dark jeans tighten around his hips and ass also draws your attention, already obsessed with him all over again. And that mohawk, that signature look all gelled up and styled. A fairly new hairdo he’s kept for nearly a year now, and you’d be lying to say you don’t fancy it.

Taking a seat beside you at the bar, Johnny converses with Duncan, catching up with his old friend. And Lord, all you can do is stare; how you missed him. Even after so many months apart, you find him captivating - that dazzling smile, those beautiful, bright blue eyes. How could one man be so goddamn handsome? So pretty?

“Been keeping after her while I’m gone, Dunc?” Johnny quips, eyeing you from the side.

“Aye,” He nods, chuckling. “She’s been sendin’ all the boys home with their tails between their legs.”

“Ohh,” Fully turning toward you, he raises his brows. “Have you now?”

The boy's small compliments make a light heat warm your cheeks, and Johnny can tell. Reaching out, he taps your chin, giving you a small wink.

“Can’t blame them for tryin’ though, can I? Still just as beautiful, lass…” Leaning forward, he smooths his dominant hand over the top of your thigh, adding in with a quieter tone, “And just as fit.”

Your jaw drops into a wide grin, scoffing. “John Malcolm.” Scolding him playfully, you reach out, tapping the bulging muscle of his arm. And you suddenly find yourself wishing to touch it, hold his arm and squeeze it.

Duncan leaves the two of you be, knowing how long you’ve waited for this. He’s honestly the only one that still held out hope. The rest of your friends take account of Johnny’s presence, choosing to stay to themselves, as well. Looks like they were proven wrong.

“So, is life better in the military?” There’s a bit of humor in your voice, and a dash of flirtation on your lips. And while you try to make yourself seem confident and enticing, the fact that his hand still hasn’t moved from your thigh has you melting.

He shrugs, smiling. “I think so, yeah. Still missin’ you, though, lass.”

“Yeah, sure.” Looking back down at your glass, the warmth in your cheeks has now spread to your ears and neck. You hope he’s telling the truth. “What’s your rank now?”

“Corporal.” Pride positively blooms within him, happy that you asked. “Hoping to rise to Sergeant.”

“Impressive.” Tilting your head, you offer him a cheeky expression, eyeing him up and down.

“Still like what you see?” Johnny teases, fingers stroking the fabric of your jeans.

“Very much so.” It’s like every time he came home, he was that much bigger, that much stronger. It might sound silly, maybe even primitive, but Johnny seemed like such a man now. You’ve seen him grow since primary school, nearly your entire childhood spent together. And to see how he’s grown, it’s not only impressive, it’s wildly attractive.

There’s nothing more Johnny missed from civilian life than you, and that’s the truth. But when he was on base and training, he didn’t have much time to think about you. Mainly, these thoughts came into his mind at night, when he was lonely, or horny. A lot of the time, both.

Round after round, Johnny pays for your drinks, not letting you out of his sight. He’s scooted his seat closer to yours to where your legs are touching, his hand still on your thigh. Every now and then, he’s squeezing it, movements becoming firmer and firmer until he’s leaning in toward your cheek. Sloppily, he kisses your skin, pressing his lips into the plumpness of your cute cheek while grinning. He’s just so in love with you, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Johnny,” Laughing, your body tingles with happiness.

“Wha?” He questions, not backing away even a single inch. “Not want me to? Got some other lad’s eyes on you?”

“Fuck no.” Instantly, you’re turning your head to face him. “Only you.”

Those azure eyes flutter between your own eager orbs and your slightly parted lips, allowing your hands to lift to his face and bring him in. Familiar lips meet in the middle, pressing fondly together, one warm hand rising to your cheek as he moves with your kiss. This is so easy, comforting. There’s excitement to it for sure, but nothing entirely new. You’re falling into him, into his endless embrace.

“Missed you,” He whispers, mouthing at you. “Thought about you.”

At this point, you’re not even worried about anyone else seeing your overt public displays of affection. You kiss him like it’s an addiction, tongue slipping across his lower lip when you hear his sweet admission.

There’s something about you that lights a fire in his depths. He knows who you are, just as stunning on the inside as you are on the out. Not only are you a pretty little thing, with gorgeous hair and a smile that could kill, but you’re sexy as all hell, too. You’re the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen, even throughout his teen years, his life in the military, he’s never met anyone that even compares. And he can’t get enough of you, can’t believe you fell for him, too.

He’s not sure when he’ll tell you, if he’ll tell you, but he keeps a small booklet of pictures with you in it. No longer than a day or so goes by without him looking at it, and he’s thrilled to see that the real image is still better than the photos. At times, while laying in his cot at night, he wonders if someone else has finally gotten a hold of you, has finally swooped in and taken advantage of his absence. And clearly, others have tried, but you haven’t let them. They're not him.

Swallowing, you take in a short breath, eager to ask him your usual question. “Are you spending the night?”

Just like always, he responds with, “Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

By the time your feet are hitting the pavement, it’s late, the night growing chilly. But you can barely feel it, what with the energy rolling through your body. And the heat from Johnny’s hand only comforts you further, palm dwarfing your own with thick fingers wrapping around your much smaller ones.

“You been lonesome while I’m gone?” His tone hints at a bit of sarcasm, but you know there’s genuine curiosity behind it.

“Mostly.” And when he hears the sincerity in your voice, he’s pulling his hand away from yours and looping that same arm around your shoulders. Here, he pulls you in, giving the side of your head a kiss.

“I’m here, now.”

“Only for a little bit.” You grumble in response, only slightly tipsy. Maybe more.

Johnny’s quiet for a moment, sighing. “Don’t worry about that.” He’ll talk to you about it later.

Glancing over at you, he peers down, his height giving him quite the advantage when looking down your already low shirt. Your cleavage damn near makes him drool, forcing a rush of blood to the sensitive space beneath his pants. And he thinks he’s being sly about it until you look up with a smirk.

“Still fancy me that much, Johnny?” Again, you’re trying to act cocky, display your confidence to him. But on the inside, you’re burning up. All you want is for him to compliment and praise you, make you feel small and warm beneath him, just like he used to. And he knows that.

Turning, Johnny pushes himself against you, leading you backward into one of the side alleys along the street. It takes your breath away, a small gasp puffing past your lips when your back hits the brick. With his hands falling to your outer arms, Johnny releases a heavy breath, head ducking down toward your mouth. Meeting him halfway, you tilt your chin up, feeling the crash of his lips. One of those broad palms finds its way to your jaw, holding you in place while he licks over your lips. His movements are much more passionate than before, back when he kissed you in the bar. It feels hurried and heated, like he needed you right here and now.

“Of course I do.” He says between breaths, mouth opening to slide against your own.

His lips are soft and smooth, the taste of his tongue sweet like candy. And these sloppy kisses are John’s forte, all tongue and spit and it’s all so familiar to you. Heart jumping against your ribs, you feel Johnny’s free hand find your chest, softly massaging your tits.

“John,” Exhaling airily, you reach up with both hands, sliding them over his wide shoulders.

“Wearin’ such a low shirt, lass.” He whispers into your ear, lips brushing against the skin.

It makes you feel vulnerable, the way his hand sneaks beneath the fabric, brushing your shirt up just a pinch within the alley’s darkness. Here, he cups you over your bra, fingers massaging you firmly.

“Missed these.” Mouthing at your neck, he hears you whine when his teeth drag across the crux of it, tongue laving over the hot skin. And he makes his own strangled noise when your nails dig into the back of his neck.

“You’re so much bigger…” Whispering as if you’d be heard, you mumble against his lips, fingers reaching for the longer hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah?” That surely strokes his ego, pretty grin shining in the moonlight.

“Mhm,” Nodding, you bring him in again, laying your tongue out into his mouth.

“Christ,” He shivers, bicep bulging as his hand cups your face. “Let’s get you home.”

Dizzily, you stumble after him, feeling the firm pull of his hand in yours once again. With a lovesick grin on your face, you let Johnny lead you back to your flat. And the rest of the walk is easy enough, only being a few more blocks.

With a smirk, his hand slides into the back pocket of your jeans, fishing out your keys. Unlocking your door, his hand on your lower back guides you inside, shutting it in an instant. With already half-lidded eyes, he turns to you, licking his lower lip and reaching for you again. This time, your back meets the wall with a much softer embrace, Johnny’s arms looping around your midsection. Hands lowering, he finds the curves of your perfect backside, squeezing you gently while his lips return to you.

Here, in the comfort of your home, John begins to consume you, soft and slow. With one, passionate grab on your ass, he’s moaning, hot breath washing over your features. Trailing your fingers up, they tangle into the strands near the back of his neck, and he groans. Your nails scratch lightly over his skin, fingers pulling gently on his hair.

“Yeah…” Johnny’s liquor-soaked tongue continues to refamiliarize itself with your own, mouthing at you with sloppy licks and sucks. “Miss your fingers on me.”

“Miss feeling you, baby.” It’s like he gets more fit every time you see him, muscles expanding, body growing. His firm chest and stomach, strong back and arms, and that pretty face. “Johnny,”

Before you can speak any further, the hand not on your face falls to your jeans, cupping you eagerly. It forces a gasp from your mouth, immediately swallowed by him.

“Wanna taste you, bonnie.”

“Ugh,” Rolling your eyes up, your head falls back onto the wall as he begins sliding down. You were wondering when he’d ask.

This, in your opinion, is what he was best at. Sex with Johnny was always intense, passionate and heated, whether it was slow or fast. But using his mouth, that’s definitely his most valuable weapon.

Thick fingers undo the button on your jeans, opening your zipper to reveal your purple, cotton panties. And he moans audibly, fully settling on his knees so he can lean in to kiss them. Soft lips press to your covered mound, your hands falling naturally to his head.

“Sweetest taste,” He mumbles, mouthing at the fabric and pushing your jeans down to your ankles. Hooking his fingers into the hemline of your panties, you feel his tongue lave over the fabric, just barely separated from him.

“Johnny… please.”

He doesn’t listen, nor does he respond; he’s going at his own pace.

The humid fan of Johnny’s breath wafts across your smooth skin, pooling your panties on the ground, just above your jeans. Tilting your head down, you become still, waiting for his movement. With your fingers sifting through the longer stripe of hair at the top of his head, he leans in, sticking his tongue out and running it up your seam to poke teasingly at the peak of your sex.

“B-Baby,”

The excitement that shoots through your body is addicting, feeling him lick tenderly at the crease between your outer lips, tongue diving deeper with every stroke. He can’t fully get to you from this angle, not in the way he wants to, but he likes this. The teasing nature of it is getting him harder than ever, tip already leaking in his pants. So, he licks into you, fingers pressing into your thighs as he begins to pull them apart. Well, as much as he can while your feet are still trapped in your pants.

“John…” Already fisting his mohawk, you wiggle your feet, trying to ask him to take them off the rest of the way.

Hurriedly, he gives in, breaths heavy and fast as he removes your shoes, jeans, and panties from your feet. Quickly tossing them further behind his knelt form, he returns, forcing one of your legs up onto his shoulder. The strength behind his movements has you inhaling sharply, your calf draping down his back as he moves in. Instantly, he’s stuffing his tongue inside, licking directly into your channel. The way his tongue strokes you is languid, firm, caressing your inner skin fondly.

The feeling of being exposed in your own home is foreign to you, your legs open wide for him in the middle of your entryway. But you’re getting used to this again, used to him.

Flattening his tongue, he rubs it up your lips until he reaches your clit, the talented muscle swirling around it. Pausing, Johnny takes a beat to suck two fingers into his mouth before prodding the tips of them at your center.

“Yes,” Shoving your hips toward him, the back of your head hits the wall again, pulling him in by his pretty brown hair.

Smoothly, his fingers sink into you, your soldier moaning from the sting of your fingers and nails. From the moment he got his mouth on you, his receptive buds tingled from your taste. How he fucking missed it. He’d reminisce on these moments back on base, mouth watering from the memory of your taste. It made him drool, saliva currently pooling from the corners of his mouth. Sloppily, it runs down his chin, listening to the wet squelch of your cunt as it sucks his fingers in again and again. He pumps them into you steadily, beginning to curl them when hitting deep.

Lowering his tongue, he laps at your wet folds before returning to suck your engorged clitoris into his mouth. He suckles on it, whimpering softly when you buck your hips against him. With his free hand, he urges you on, cupping and squeezing your ass to push you further toward him.

“Oh my god, yes.” Rolling your hips, you grind yourself down onto his face, feeling his short stubble scratch along the insides of your thighs.

He lets you ride his face, rutting over his mouth like it’s the last time you’ll ever get the chance to. Continuing to mouth at your juicy pleasure center, Johnny moans roughly against you, listening to your own wanton breaths.

While prodding at your core, he hits something special, shooting euphoria throughout your entire body. It forces your pelvis forward, body chasing its high. You can feel it rising, the heat coiling in your belly.

“Bleedin’ Jesus,” Johnny exhales, eyes closed as he devours you. “Dripping on my face, lass.”

“Johnny,” Whining above his kneeling form makes him grin, a low groan emanating from his chest.

“Give it to me,” He suddenly demands, voice lower and more authoritative. “Right in my mouth.”

His words have you quivering, stomach muscles convulsing as you curl down toward him. A shrill gasp spills from your mouth, watching those dazzling azure eyes open to stare up at you from between your legs. Punching his fingers into your cunt, the hot air of his moans floats directly over you, soaking into your skin. And then he’s opening his mouth, just as you begin to gush.

“John,” Your hips flinch from the force of it, Johnny’s free hand holding you up against the wall. His hand grips your waist, fingers bruising your skin.

Pleasure bursts through your body, shivering from your hips all the way up to your chest. And he holds you through it, through every twitch and quiver, through every high whine and tiny whimper. And Johnny just adores the way you hold onto him, fisting his hair while you ride out your high on his handsome face.

Johnny’s mouth remains open against your cunt, fingers slowing their pace as he swallows down your cum. Breath escaping him, he gives in to the incredible pulse below his belt, hips jerking ever so slightly. Dragging his fingers from your center, he drops his shoulder, allowing your leg to slide off of him. And then he’s standing, pressing his body against you before grabbing onto your face. In a much hungrier pace than before, he kisses you, holding the hinge of your jaw open and moaning when you let him lick inside.

Still dizzy from your high, you can just barely make out the wetness on his skin, your slick covering his lips and chin and cheeks. The taste of your release lingers on his tongue, lips sloppy as he swaps his spit with your own.

Something about Johnny coming home to have the sweetest, nastiest sex of his life just felt invigorating to you. Every time, it’s just as good as the last, if not even better.

“Fuck me,” That thick, deep voice, it gets you every time.

In the heat of it all, Johnny’s hands are lowering to your thighs, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his toned waist. Clinging to the sturdiness of his body, you hold his beautiful face, bringing his mouth back to you while he begins rolling his hips between your legs. Johnny’s moans, soft and sweet, a genuine melody, flow freely into the surrounding air while he grinds against you. He lets you lead the kiss, focusing on himself for just a minute. The wetness from your cunt wets the front of his pants, girth twitching beneath its confines. Desperately, he rubs himself against you, head lowering to rest against your neck. From the noises he’s making, the intense grunts and groans, you’d think he was fully fucking you.

“Johnny, baby,” You can feel him throbbing against your naked skin, and you want him. “Please.”

Allowing your entire weight to fall onto him, he picks you up from the wall, turning to stride toward your bedroom. Nothing about your flat has changed, not a single detail amiss since he last saw it. At times, he thinks of this place as his own home. Sure, he visits family, his mom, his sisters, but this is where he stays. Here, with you.

Kicking your door the rest of the way open, he walks inside, mouthing along the slope of your neck. He listens to your girlish sigh as he lays you on your bed, lifting your shirt off in the process. And you expect him to lay over you, return his attention to you, but he doesn’t. Standing at his full height, Johnny rips off his shirt before those strong hands fall to his zipper and belt.

Left in only your bra, you watch him, lifting yourself up onto your forearms to lean back against them. In his hurry, he doesn’t see your wanting stare. But upon realization of it, he grins.

“Look any different from the last time?” He asks, cocky as ever.

“Always.” Reaching out, you lay a hand across his abdomen, more defined than it was almost a year ago.

Johnny’s abs made your mouth fucking water, his toned muscles and firm pecs. And his v-line, fuck did that get you going. Hair scatters his entire abdomen and it just makes you want to lick him. He’s so well-built, so pretty and fit. He’s just so perfect.

Sitting upright, you lean in, hands falling to his sides as your lips find his skin. Warm and smooth beneath your mouth, you kiss him, tongue laying out to lick along the lines of definition.

“Christ, I missed you.” Shaking his head, he runs a hand over your hair, admiring you.

He hadn’t finished undoing his pants, so you take up the task yourself. His belt is easy enough, granting you access to his zipper. Sliding it down, you’re greeted with navy blue boxers, the front dampened from his excitement.

“You want it?” Johnny whispers, staring down at you with lidded eyes, petting your hair.

Your answer comes in the form of your next action, pulling him gently from his boxers. In your hand, he’s warm, thick and heavy. A glistening drop of precum falls from his tip, your thumb catching it before rubbing over his sensitive skin.

“Later,” He then decides, licking his lower lip with a swallow. “You can spoil me tomorrow.”

“What if I want to now?” Your voice is tender and sweet, eyes peeking up at him.

“You don’t have a choice.” Grinning widely, he dips down toward you, taking your chin in his hand.

Rising with his gentle tug, you return to your feet, leaning up into his kiss. Pressing into you, Johnny pushes your body onto the bed, lips never leaving. Easily, his hands slide around your back, undoing the clips of your bra while he moves to mouth at your neck.

“Let me see ‘em,” He whispers, dragging the edge of his teeth over your collarbone.

He drags the straps down your arms, discarding the last piece of clothing carelessly onto the floor. Your room is dark, the light switches empty of touch. But Johnny can still see you, the streetlamp outside your window illuminating his view.

While caressing your waist with those strong, calloused hands, Johnny stares at your chest. That warm tongue makes a home for itself between your breasts, licking up the sweet valley of your cleavage. Breathing steadily, you let him enjoy you like this, indulging in you all over again. Turning his head, he sucks on the slopes of them, teasing his tongue around your nipple until you whine.

“Baby, come oonnn.”

With a smirk, he’s wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled peaks, smooshing his face against your soft flesh. He sucks on you tenderly, lips moving in little, pulsing motions. Every now and then, his tongue will come out, laying flat against you. And the best thing about this, were the sounds he made. Boyish moans fall from his lips as he continues, completely losing himself in this.

Slowly, your legs wrap around his naked waist, warm and firm against your thighs as you pull him further in. The second you feel the weight of him hit your inner thigh, you’re releasing an airy gasp, feeling his shaft slide between your exposed lips.

“Oh, Christ…” Dropping his forehead down, he rests it against the center of your chest. Nestled between your velvety folds, he twitches, stomach muscles tightening with excitement.

With careful motions, he moves his hips, sliding himself against your entrance but not yet diving in. His stiffened length prompts your body’s aroused reaction, wetness coating his shaft while the noise of it spills into the room. Back and forth, his hips sway, listening to your timid breaths, your gorgeous body shuddering every time he runs over the peak of your sex.

“I just wanna lose myself in you…” Johnny whispers into the darkness fondly, tip catching at your entrance.

While your breasts offer him a comfortable resting place, he wants to be closer to you, closer to that pretty face. So, he lifts his head, pressing his hairline against your temple as he begins to slide in. Smooth and slow, he breaches you, one of your arms looping around his neck for support while your other hand grabs at his bicep. In unison, your lips part, moans slipping between the nonexistent space between the two of you.

The stretch is gentle, welcoming. There’s just something so specific about this, about the way you open up for him, the way your sex overtly accepts him. You welcome him in like you’ve been waiting for this very moment since the last time he left, which isn’t far from the truth.

Burying himself entirely in your tight heat, he throbs forcefully, uncontrollably. Once his pelvis meets your own, spreading your legs even further around him, your fingers find his hair once again. Running your digits through that feathery stripe of hair makes him sigh, a happy smile blooming right beside your cheek.

“Mm…” Johnny hums pleasantly, nose rubbing against you ever so gently. He could be so sweet, he was always sweet.

The hairs at his base scratch kindly at your delicate skin, your very center fluttering from the contact. Pressing further between your legs, John grinds himself into you, kissing your cheek while you adjust to his size. You’ve taken him countless times and still, his girth always seemed to surprise you. Even more satisfying was his length, never ceasing to hit the deepest parts of you.

“You always feel so good, mo leannan…” You’re whispering to him, the Gaelic words making his heart beat with overwhelming affection. (My sweetheart)

“I come back for you,” He suddenly says, huffing out a harsh breath. “Every time, it’s for you.”

When he says this, he begins to move, creating a steady yet languid pace. Upon his first reentry, he groans openly into your ear, that deep voice creating the loveliest sounds. Johnny’s moans were always so beautiful, not too rushed or frantic, but smooth and deep.

Lovingly, his head ducks down to your neck, reveling in the way you hold onto him. One of the things Johnny enjoys most about sex is the closeness, the body heat. The hand you had on his bicep loops beneath his arm, scratching slightly at his back while your other arm stays wrapped around his neck. You can feel every bit of him this way, every flexing muscle, every firm plane of skin.

“Jesus,” Your lover grunts, left hand sliding up the mattress to hold the back of your head.

Hot and clenching, you pull him in, stroke after stroke. And it’s killing him. You feel ethereal, like everything he needs, everything he’s been missing.

Hitting a particularly sensitive spot, you cry out a bit louder for him, soft moans turning into high whines and little whimpers. Fingernails dig into his sculpted back, feeling Johnny angle his hips just right.

“Yeah, right there…” Mumbling into your neck, he mouths at you, wrapping his right arm around your lower back. Here, he lifts your hips, encouraging you to meet his thrusts. And you instantly do.

With one arm holding your back, and the other beneath your head, he keeps you close to him, chests pressing together, stomach rubbing against the other’s. Already, he feels flush, panting and moaning from the way your entire body squeezes him, especially when your ankles hook around his lower back. That turns him wild, fucking himself into you like he’ll never get the chance to again, pressing his lips to your cheek before moving his head to find your lips.

“J-John, baby…” The small whimpers slipping past your lips prompts a certain cluster of emotions to form within him. You’re so special to him, so sweet and delicate, his perfect lass. And all at once, regret swirls inside his gut, regret for leaving you, for not taking care of you. He wants to, wants to give you everything he can, and he hasn’t been doing that.

Thrusting into you without abandon forces the breath from his lungs, breathing into your space, feeling your own wafts of warm air. Your kisses are passionate, gasps falling into the other’s mouth while your tongues dance together in messy patterns. It’s intoxicating, this feeling with him, the sensation you create when together.

Strong hips continue to pump his swollen length into you, head hitting the deepest parts of your being, shaft keeping you spread.

“Don’t, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” The way you sound, it’s everything he’s dreamed of since being gone.

“Beautiful fuckin’ thing,” He suddenly huffs, shaking his head. His eyes don’t open as he speaks, entirely lost in the feeling of you. “Mine, always mine. No matter where I go, how long it’s been…”

“Johnny…” There hasn’t been a moment during his past visits where he’s admitted something like this. It was too hard to admit while he was constantly away. You both agreed to part ways, ending your “official” relationship. And even though he always returns to you, it’s never prompted a continuation of what you once had.

Before you can register what’s happening, he’s pulling out of you and planting his hands on your hips. Flipping you onto your stomach, he slides back in, earning a shrill gasp from your end. With his hands flat on the bed, his hips bounce against your ass, breaths punching from his chest. Something comes over him, he can feel it and you can, too. Leaning down, Johnny’s mouth finds your skin, biting at your back. What first appears as gentle nips turn into mouthfuls of skin, digging his teeth in hard enough to leave marks - you’re his. The subtle sting, the rush of adrenaline it creates, it’s overwhelming. From this angle, he feels even bigger than before, the slap of his pelvis against your backside ringing throughout your bedroom. Leaning further in, Johnny kisses along your shoulder and neck, your skin wet from him and your own sweat. And then his dominant hand is sliding across your hip, lowering to grab a fistful of your ass.

Caressing his forehead against the back of your neck, he whispers, “Bonnie bell,” Entirely out of breath, Johnny admits again, “I missed you.”

Reaching around, you fist the hair along the back of his head, dry moans scratching their way through your throat. Shakily, you respond, “I n-need you.”

“You have me,” He’s confident in promising this to you. “You have me, baby.”

The sweet moment fades when you feel him throb against your inner walls, shoving your face down into the pillows as you whimper for him.

“So fuckin’ wet…” John whispers, eyes closed as he begins to feel that dull heat rise within his depths.

“Will you cum? Inside me?” He can barely hear you, your voice muffled by the pillows. But he answers anyway.

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

As soon as you ask, he feels it hit him, that powerful wave of pleasure. It wreaks havoc on Johnny’s body, convulsing above you as he drops to your back. His hips twitch from pleasure, shaking with every milky rope that spurts from him. And once his chest hits your back, he’s wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you impossibly close, clinging to you in an almost painfully tight embrace.

Your fingers massage his head sweetly, stroking through his hair kindly. His mouth falls openly against your neck, soft and damp. John’s body is hot above your own, his warmth leaking into you with every one of his euphoric moans. He feels the pleasure of it fill every limb, every vein; this type of high, it’s nowhere else he can find.

It’s ages before he’s pulling out, allowing himself to soften inside your sickeningly sweet pussy. His mouth drags across the entirety of your neck, your shoulders and back, releasing soft moans as he displays his adoration for you. Dropping to your backside, he mouths at it, finally able to worship his most adored feature on you. With both hands, he grabs you, massages you and pulls you apart while licking up the curves. Johnny sucks his mark onto you, planting a deep bruise. And while it’s erotic, it’s sensual, too. Deeply sweet in his own way.

“Mo ghrádh…” A jolt thrums throughout your chest when you hear him speak these simple words. My love.

“You stay.” He then says to you softly, turning to leave the room. And you know exactly what he’s doing. And when he’s back, he’s instructing gently, “Up.”

Smiling, you lift your hips for him, feeling the cool wipe of a cloth between your legs. Every time, without fail, he’d clean you, show his gratitude in this way. And while he knew you went to the bathroom after you two were done, he still wanted to do this for you. Even while you were busy doing that, he took your water bottle from your nightstand, filling it before putting it back. He just wants to make you comfortable, wants you to know you’re cared for. And by the time you came back, you were met with the sight of your Johnny baby, your pretty boy, all cuddled up in your bed.

“C’mere,” He calls quietly, a sleepy smile on his lips as he lifts the covers.

Hopping eagerly into bed, you cuddle happily within the embrace of Johnny’s strong arms. Wrapping around you, he pulls you in, allowing you to relax against his chest. You always snuggled this way, facing each other, heads resting against the other’s as you dozed off together. And he finds himself feeling the most at peace this way, in these moments. There wasn’t a time he felt closer to you.

It was something he always liked, something that made him smile and giggle. The way your hands caressed his head, fingers sliding up through his tall strands as you styled them, it just made him so happy. With his new profession, Johnny felt the need to be serious almost constantly. He had an image to uphold, after all. He’s the best at what he does, and is only continuing to sharpen his skills. But with you, he could let go. He could be himself again. And the real Johnny, he was goofy. He was silly and sweet, curious about the world with a childlike innocence that made your heart flutter with emotion.

“I’ve heard this one so many times.” Whispering, your smile forms fondly in the early morning light.

Raking your fingers through Johnny’s hair, you pause to scoop a bit more gel from the jar, styling his mohawk. Sitting comfortably on his lap, Johnny rests back against the headboard of your bed, watching you work with a sleepy grin. Both of those kind hands run up and down your thighs, squeezing you every now and then.

“It’s one of my favorites.” He says, replying to your comment about the song he’d put on.

Just inches from his beautiful face, you feel the breath of his words form along your lips; prompting you to ask kindly, “Doesn’t it get boring, though? Listening to the same songs over and over again?”

“Nah,” He grins, shaking his head but stopping when you frown at him, your fingers stilling in his longer locks. “All the best ones remind me of you.”

“Johnny,” You reply, touched by his admission. But he just shrugs.

“I see you in all my favorite songs.”

He’d woken up beside you this morning, limbs tangled with yours, the taste of your cunt still on his tongue. And he reveled in that, the sensation nurturing his already rising erection, the one that rose nearly every morning. But most important about this morning, was the fact that he gets to spend it with you.

Since highschool, you’d been inseparable. Lovebirds since you were fifteen, stealing glances at each other until he got the nerve to make a real move. And after that, you were hooked. Even when he left, after so many years together, he was never truly out of your head. From the first time you met, the first time you held hands, the first time you kissed… everything was special from the very moment you laid your eyes on him. This is the most intricate, romantic, and passionate relationship either of you had been in.

It haunted you, watching him leave and knowing that your sweet boy, your Johnny baby, was going off to train and fight. And most importantly, leave you. But you can’t think about that, not when he’s right here with you.

“Mo ghrádh…” He mutters again, staring up at you with absolute adoration.

All you do is smile at those words, shaking your head with slight disbelief. But he wants more, he’s calling for your attention.

“Sweet cailín,” Johnny coos, both hands lifting to your cheeks. (Sweet girl)

“What, baby?” Your voice is just as small and sweet as his when you respond.

Bringing you in with a gentle pull, Johnny reunites your lips, the kiss tender and brief. But then another follows, and another, until you’re molding yourself to him all over again.

“Have you had anyone inside you, bonnie?” He suddenly asks, the question entirely unexpected. “Since I last left?” It’s said quietly, carefully; he’s afraid of the answer, but is quickly reassured.

“No.” Holding onto him with your arms looped around his neck, you give him your full attention, having completely forgotten about his hair. “Only you, Johnny.”

“Really?”

“Yes… have… have you?”

“No, no one.” His response is quick, expressed through a deep release of breath. Running a hand down your back, he admits, “Can’t bring myself to.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah, dove?” He misses that nickname, so common and simple but so sweet when spoken by you.

“I love you.” Saying it feels like an enormous release, your emotional wellbeing blossoming just from being able to tell him again. “I still do.”

He smiles, head moving gently against you. “Don’t think I could ever not love you.”

“Johnny,” Sucking in an emotional breath, you decide to be fully vulnerable with him, with your best friend. “I w-want, I miss you.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know…” Johnny thought breaking things off was the best thing for the two of you, he really did, but he’s learning now that that’s far from the truth. And seeing you like this, so vulnerable and wanting, it’s crushing him.

Pushing yourself forward against his chest, you sigh, turning your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder. Broad hands run lovingly up and down your back, soothing you.

“I miss being yours.” Comes your small whisper, breath floating over his neck.

A sudden surge of possessiveness comes over him, strong arms squeezing you tight. “You are mine.”

“Not like I used to be, Johnny…” Sadness consumes you entirely, the emotion ruining your delightful morning. But it would’ve come out sooner or later, and right now, it’s practically spilling from your heart. “Would, would you ever want that? Again?”

For a moment, he stays quiet. He’s trying to figure out how he should word this.

“I wouldn’t expect anything new from you, I promise I wouldn’t.” Desperation seeps from your pores but you’re past the point of caring. You’re in love with him, you can’t help it. “I know you can’t talk to me while you’re gone. It’s just, I… I miss it.

“You know…” He finally says, “I’m kinda sick ‘o that, anyways.”

“What do you mean?” Sliding one hand down his chest, your pointer finger runs over him, creating little patterns.

“Bein’ without you.”

A bright grin slowly cracks across your face when he says it. “Really?”

He shrugs, grinning himself. “Always miss you. Always think about the lads here, someone comin’ into swoop you up. I cannae let that happen, bonnie.”

Lifting your head, you find that cute little smirk. Jesus, how the hell is he so pretty?

“There’s no one here that could ever replace you.” One hand then finds his cheek, his chiseled jawline.

“This doesn’t mean I’ll be home more often though, lass. Still goin’ ta be busy on base.”

Shrugging, you answer simply with, “I figured. I mean, it won’t be any different.”

“Except that I’ll write to you, when I can. I will.”

“I’ll write back.” Smiling brightly, you almost can’t contain your giddiness. “Sometimes… it feels like we never even broke up.”

“Yeah,” Johnny smiles widely, “But I like that.”

For just a second, you’re silent, smiling like a fool in front of him. “Yeah… me too.” A timid grin then pulls at your lips, eyes dipping down to watch your finger move over his chest. “Always knowing you’re around… always coming back to me.”

“And I always will.” He says quickly, lifting your chin for you to look at him, capitalizing on his statement.

“Promise me?”

“Yeah, bonnie bell.” Barely tilting his chin, Johnny presses his lips to your own. “I promise.”

#John McTavish #John “Soap” McTavish #Soap cod #cod mw2 #cod fanfiction #John McTavish x you #John McTavish x reader #John McTavish x female reader #John McTavish smut #John McTavish fluff

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reinvent-and-believe · 6 months

Note

Trick or Treat!!

57 Roy x Jamie :3

57. dating apps ☺️

—

11:21 p.m. lucky for you that’s exactly my type

Roy’s bored. It’s not like he just sits around answering messages from pictureless Grindr blokes, but he’s bored and he’s scrolling and he's horny and it’s not like a 25-year-old 5’10" toned vers bisexual sounds unappealing, necessarily, even if that’s all he’s got to go on.

11:23 p.m. What is?

11:23 p.m. your bio

Roy may have been a bit drunk when he set up his account the other night, so who the fuck knows. He flips to his profile and reads, “emotionally unavailable but I eat arse so there’s that.”

Right.

Roy Kent is not old, thank you very much, but in his day, you picked people up in a bar or at a party or after a match because fit, interested people tended to linger. Now there’s an app for that. Brave new fucking world.

He’d downloaded fucking bantr out of morbid curiosity, a few months after he broke things off with Keeley, and deleted it within 20 minutes. The problem with bantr is that the whole point is to make some deep, meaningful connection that’s based on more than just physical attraction. Roy already had that. He fucked it up. That’s the last thing he wants.

Grindr, though. That’s more his speed.

11:26 p.m. That so?

11:27 p.m. it is. everyone else on here just wants their dick sucked, man. where’s the creativity?

11:27 p.m. So it’s the creativity then, not the offer itself

11:28 p.m. listen mate, if you’re offering…

The photo suddenly gracing Roy’s phone has got to be the most perfect bum Roy’s ever seen, round and smooth and muscled and…yeah, Roy would fucking feast on that.

Wait.

Another picture comes through, another that shouldn’t be identifiable, no face, no visible tattoos, just a perfectly sculpted torso, left arm casually flexed with his hand cradled behind his neck. His right arm is strategically out of frame, other than the pretty, angular hand nicely framing a gorgeous cock straining against tight black pants.

Perfectly sculpted torso and casually flexed right arm and pretty, angular hand and gorgeous cock that all belong to Jamie Tartt.

There’s not the slightest sliver of doubt in his mind. Roy sculpted that body himself. It’s fucking Jamie, that perfect bicep from the new lifting routine, the tan from his trip to Brazil, the Orion’s Belt of freckles on his left pec.

Fuck.

11:33 p.m. speechless, yeah? you’re welcome

He should not fucking reply. He should close the app. Delete the conversation. Block Jamie’s profile. Delete his goddamn Grindr account.

11:35 p.m. You always this much of a cocky prick?

11:35 p.m. nah, way worse in person

11:35 p.m. you want it though, don’t ya?

11:36 p.m. can i see you?

Roy takes a breath. Don’t reply, close the app, delete the conversation, block the profile, delete the account. Lots of great options here.

Instead he takes a breath, pulls off his shirt, and snaps his own faceless torso picture. He glances at it just long enough to decide it’s good enough and sends it before he has time to think about it any harder.

He doesn’t know what outcome he’s hoping for here. Maybe Jamie isn’t as fucking deranged as Roy apparently is, maybe Jamie won’t immediately recognize some random hairy chest. Or maybe Jamie will know immediately, too. Maybe he’ll have the good fucking sense to do what Roy should have done and pretend this never happened.

Minute after agonizing minute ticks by, and Roy is a fucking idiot, why the fuck…

11:41 p.m. right

11:41 p.m. so you coming over now or do we have to wait til 4am?

Roy stares at the phone for a minute before typing a response, throwing his shirt back on, and grabbing his car keys.

11:42 p.m. On my way

#😇#thanks for the prompt babe!#royjamie #roy/jamie #roy x jamie #ted lasso fic #my fic #my writing #fic or treat 2023

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kitashousewife · 11 months

Text

“i picked this up from the market for ya,” neighbor!kita hands you a small pouch of loose leaf tea tied with a small bow. “they had samples today.”

“can’t believe i missed sample day,” you sigh sadly, holding the gift in your hand. today was the first time you weren’t able to go to the weekly farmers market with kita, due to a meeting with a possible client. you help him sell his rice, and in return you bring a few flower arrangements to sell. it’s the highlight of your week, and you were so bummed to miss out.

“the ladies missed yer flowers today,” he smiles, flipping through the few pieces of mail he grabbed from the mail box. you open yours, frowning when it’s empty. “don’t worry, i told ‘em you’d be back next week.”

the two of you stand in the evening sun for a moment. even though it had been a long day, you decided to be a good neighbor.

“want to come over for some lemonade?”

the two of you stand in your kitchen now, gossiping about the happenings at the market today while grab the lemonade from the fridge.

“no way! their honey isn’t even that good,” you roll your eyes. the stand across from kita’s is known to have outrageous prices.

“oh c’mon, it’s not that bad. but i agree, a little expensive.”

you grab two glasses from the cabinet and nod.

“anything else happen?”

“no, not really,” kita says through a yawn. “i sold out though.”

“that’s great!” you give him a wide smile and he blushes. no matter what, he’s always been humble.

“it’s nothin’,” he smiles a little, looking at the ground instead.

you hand him a glass before making your way back outside. the two of you sip in the driveway, watching the sun set slowly. the two of you chat a bit more before kita let’s another yawn slip.

“tired?”

“yeah, got up earlier to do chores in time for the market today,” he finished the rest of his glass. “thanks again. ya know, yer lemonade is the best i’ve ever had.”

your cheeks heat up a little.

“you’re nice.”

“i mean it,” he stretches, and you look away when the t shirt he’s wearing rises a little. “i should get goin’ though. what do ya got goin’ on tomorrow?”

you take his glass from him and raise your shoulders.

“i don’t know! i have a few bulbs that i planted a few months ago that are starting to come up, so i need to check on those. i need to weed the area by the roses as well, i’ve let it get a little hectic,” it’s your turn to yawn now, and kita raises an eyebrow. you wave him off. “besides that though, i don’t really have any plans. and you?”

he kicks at a loose piece of gravel with his boot. “the usual. although i do need to stop by granny’s at some point to help her with her sink. she said it’s leakin’.”

“well let me know when you’re going. i have some dahlias that bloomed and i know how much she loves them.”

“ya spoil her,” he teases, slowly walking towards his own driveway. “but i’ll let ya know when i go.”

“you know where to find me!” you smile over your shoulder as you walk back to your house, and kita waves.

“goodnight, neighbor.”

maybe he’ll ask for your help with a few chores. or, maybe he’ll offer to take you out to lunch after you stop by granny’s.

#kita x reader #kita x reader fluff #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke drabble #kita shinsuke x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

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luvyeni · 10 months

Note

hii i love your works!!! may i request brothers best friend trope with sunghoon?

CAN'T GET ENOUGH | PARK SUNGHOON

pairings. brothersbestfriend!sunghoon x fem!reader

wc. 1k+

warnings. unprotected sex , kitchen sex , dirty talk , name calling

i hope you like it <3

"i'm home!" you yelled out , closing the front door , sitting your things down , before making your way to the kitchen where you knew your brother would be. "as usual you're in the kitchen , eating everything you see." he scoffed , folding his arms. you noticed the other presence in the room , leaning against the counter.

he had been spending the past few days there and you were thanking whoever above that you wore a really cute outfit today. "hello sunghoon." you smiled sweetly , his eyes raked down your body , his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip. "hello y/n , you look nice today." you hummed , "i know."

"sunghoon bro , don't compliment her, it's gonna go straight to her big head." he reached out to ruffle your hair , but you quickly dodged it. "i'll kill you jake , i just got it done." he slapped his hand away. "you wore that to get your hair done?" you shook your head. "no i also went out on a date today, we went to get food."

sunghoon wanted to scoff so bad , he knew you were bluffing , you went to get food with your friends , he knows this because he helped you pick out this outfit before sneaking out of your bedroom that morning before your brother woke up. "was it fun?" sunghoon spoke up. "your date , did you have fun?" you could see his sly smirk.

"it was great , definitely will go out with him again." you looked him dead in the eyes. "i feel bad for him , he doesn't know that you don't actually look like that." jake snickered , you rolled your eyes. "fuck you." you went to swing at him , he quickly dodged it. "sunghoon keep a look out for the pizza , im gonna go shower , i still smell like the gym." your brother quickly ruffled your hair , running up the steps before you could hit him.

"i hate you!" you yelled , trying to flatten it. "i paid a lot of money for this haircut." you pouted , almost forgetting his presence , until he spoke up once again. "you're a shit liar." he chuckled , you turned on your heels. "he believed it didn't he?" you tilted your head to the side. "i guess." he made a come hither motion with his fingers.

you trotted over to him , he pulled your hips against his , holding your jaw forcing you to look him in his lustfilled eyes. "but i don't enjoy you trying to make me jealous." his voice deepened , his hand resting right above your bum. "we both know you didn't have a date today , do you not remember me helping you pick this outfit out this morning." he worked his way up your skirt. "i think it was right after i fucked you into your mattress."

your panties were definitely soaked by this point , and he knew that just by the way your thighs clenched together. "so needy already , did your date not fuck you?" you whined , he was fucking with you now. "sunghoon." he laughed. "what baby , im just wondering how did your date not fuck you , with this skirt you're wearing , i could just flip it up and fuck you." he flipped your bodies around , so now you were pressed against the counter , his hard cock pressed against your ass.

"i would know , i picked it out because that's all i could think about when i saw it." he whispered in your ear , biting your lobe. "su-sunghoon , please fuck me." you pushed against him. "be still." he held your waist , you could hear the sound of his belt unbuckling , your pussy producing more slick just from the sound of his pants falling to the ground.

he bent you over , slapping your ass. "fuck!" you yelped. "be quiet, unless you want your brother to hear me fuck your brains out." he let his cock spring out , pulling your panties down to your ankles. "youre pussy so wet , i barely did anything princess." he rubbed your folds with his fingers. "you're really such a slut for me aren't ya?" he lined his cock up with your cunt , pushing into your waiting hole , both of you moaning out.

"fuck , so wet." he grunted , slowly thrusting his hips. "slid right in." he grabbed both sides if your waist , pushing his cock in and out. "sh-shit , sunghoon." you moaned , gripping the counter. "so big." he smirked , smacking your ass. "you damn right , only my cock can satisfy you right?" you nodded.

"your pussy was made to take my cock only." he groaned , your pussy was gripping him like vice. "so fucking tight." he grabbed your hair , lifting you up , hitting a new angle. "fuck you're squeezing my dick baby , gonna cum hmm? " you nodded , unable to speak. "such a slut , letting your brothers bestfriend fuck you like a whore in your kitchen , anybody could see you , go a head , cum on my cock so i can cum in your pretty pussy like this morning."

he let you go , holding on to the counter as your body began to convulse , cumming hard around him. "o-oh fuck , fuck im gonna cum." his thrust began to get sloppy , his cum shooting into your womb. "fuuuuck." he threw his head back , sighing as he emptied himself inside you. "that's it take my cum like my good little slut."

he came down from his high , slowly pulling out your abused cunt , his cum leaking out , he quickly scooped it up , pushing it back into you. "keep it nice and warm for me." he kissed your cheek , pulling your panties back up helping you fix your skirt , before tucking himself away.

"awe your hair is so messed up." you pouted , slapping his hand away when he tried to fix it. "fuck you , i spent a lot of money on it." he laughed , kissing your forehead. "i'll pay for you to get it done again." you smiled , kissing him back.

"mph , no more kisses , im gonna end up fucking you again , and i think your brother is done his shower." you giggled , giving him one more kiss. "well we always have when he goes to sleep." you purred. "so insatiable , you still want me to fuck you , haven't i ruined you enough?" he pinched your ass.

"can't get enough of me can you?"

©️LUVYENI

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut

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carionto · 6 months

Text

Reckless? Nah - wreckful!

The day has finally come - Abby's Action Asteroids 2.0 is open for business!

Abigail was sitting in her ship, Victor 3.4, and tending to a few scratches she just got from Hector. "No matter how you struggle, ya little bum, mama will always give you belly rubs."

Ships were racing around the track, the obstacles were moving where they should when they should, tons of people were tuning in - everything was going smoothly. Well, except the parts that are supposed to be rough, like the random rockets. Or the surprise one-way holographic asteroids. Or the group of asteroid surfers.

Wait, they're not supposed to be here. Jumping between parts of the race track while ships are speeding through, constant pieces of micro debris flying every which way that, while not significant to a ship, can somewhat easily kill a Human in just their space suit.

They didn't sign the waiver!

So if they get hurt, it's gonna be Abby's fault and she'll have to not only pay their medical and/or funeral bills, the authorities might even shut down her operation! And after going through the bother of visiting the fancy HQ place and submitting whatever papers. All that work, gone, because of some idiots?

That's it, no more Miss Nice Gal, she's gonna round them up personally. Hmm, can't stop the ongoing race though, the participants are already on the final two laps, and this is opening day. If the competition gets cut short for something as small as some jokers barging in and endangering their lives, nobody's gonna care about next time!

No! This debut will go off without a hitch.

So, after some "careful" consideration, she quickly rearranged the engine cluster into a ring-like shape around the back cargo bay entrance and sped off.

As she got close to the first surfers, she hailed them: "Bet 50 Credits you're too chicken to jump in here!" as she set the engines to power up and down rhythmically in a circular pattern around the entrance, which also caused her ship to fly in a somewhat circular way. They ate up the challenge like moths and before she knew it, three of the eight surfers were in her hold.

What she didn't tell them is that there's an EMP field inside, so they can't talk to their buddies still outside about the trap. Over the next two or so minutes, just as the race was entering the final lap, there was only one surfer to go. However, seems they caught on to her little ruse, and were actively running away from her. For nearly three minutes, the little bugger kept dodging and weaving through the track and regularly coming this close to getting bodied by one of the racers.

Just as they felt they had left Abby in the metaphorical dust, a literal dust cloud suddenly surrounded them and they were now floating helplessly in a slightly green-tinged energy field. "I hate using these tractor beams, no sport, no flair, no rocket engines!" Abby muttered to herself in disappointment that she had to resort to an actually safe method of obstacle removal.

After the official race concluded, and Abby paid out the 350 Credits she promised, she announced, with great sadness embedded within the heart and soul of the text, that:

"Any future trespassers who get caught will be held in a gravity field until the final event of the day is over, so just sign the personal safety waiver!"

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humanity fuck yeah #carionto

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greazyfloz · 1 year

Note

Hi! I'm sorry to hear about your asks. So I'm in my feels for both Johnny and Luca. Would you be able to write something where the reader's dating one of them and they have a threesome? If not I understand. Thank you.

Smut w/ Johnny Druskinis +Luca Fantilli

I'll Watch

Johnny and I were cuddling on the bed one day while we both scrolled through our phones. Johnny sighs putting his phone down and continues holding me while he stared up at the ceiling, “Hey babe?” he says randomly, and I hum in response, “I know this sounds weird but I want to watch you have sex”. I look up at him with a questioning look on my face.

“Like in the mirror?” I question him

“No, like actually watch you”

“You want me to fuck someone else? And you want to watch that?” I ask still questioning him

“You know, forget it”

“No, I’m just confused” I say and he sits up

“I just want to try it. Sounds kinky” Johnny says making me chuckle, “would you fuck someone else? For me?”

“For you?” I say with a giggle making Johnny giggle too.

“Yeah, like obviously I’d have rules and I choose who you get to fuck-”

“Rules?” I ask cutting him off

“Yeah like you can’t me moaning his name, and like no hickey’s or like too much kissing” he says and I laugh a little before he continues, “oh! And they can’t put it in your bum!” he says, making me furrow my eyebrows as I laugh. “What? I’m not watching someone else fuck you ass before I get to” he says in defense

“fine , deal” I say laughing, “You’re not putting it in my bum ever by the way!”

“I’ll eventually convince ya” he says, nudging me a little as he laughs out and I just shake my head. “Are you horny? Can I ask Luca?” he asks me

“You want me to fuck your bestfriend?” I ask him, with questionable look

“Well, I don’t want you to fuck a random. Luca would definitely be down. Unless you would rather Rut” he says laughing, knowing that I would feel awkward with Rutger since I am always over at their dorm and I’ve become close with him.

“Luca is fine” I say and Johnny smiles excitedly pulling his phone out. He texts him for a bite, probably trying to convince his friend to come or that he was serious.

“He is on his way down” Johnny says smiling

“Right now?” I ask

“Yeah, right now”

“Baby, I need to be turned on first” I say as we hear a knock on the door. We both stand and Johnny brings me in and grabs my pussy rubbing it through my pants.

“You already feel turned on baby” he whispers in my ear before pulling away and walking to the door to open it for Luca.

Luca appears as Johnny opens the door letting him in before locking the door behind him. Johnny comes in close and whispers in my ear, “If your nervous, just watch me” he says kissing my neck under my ear before turning to Luca, “She’s all ready nice and wet for ya, go feel” Johnny says before taking a seat on the desk chair.

“Hey” Luca says coming close in, “You ready?” he says with his signature goofy Luca smile. I nod then Luca places his hand on my pussy rubbing me through my leggings. I close my eyes and let out a breath. “Your so wet, Y/n” Luca says then he steps back taking his shirt off then comes back to take mine off. After he takes in off his hands go on my boobs and he begins massaging them over my bra. I lean and and Luca and I begin making out while he wraps his arms around me to unclasp my bra. When my bra falls to the floor I reach down and play with Luca’s waistband. He breaks the kiss to pull his pants off. I take the moment to take of my pants along with I’m underwear when I notice Johnny rubbing himself through his pants making me even wetter.

Luca comes in making out with me as his fingers explore all over my fold. We break apart to make our way on the bed. Luca lays on the bed and I crawl in between his legs at the end of the bed. I see Johnny lift him hips to take his pants off, letting his cock slap his stomach as he sits back down. Johnny strokes his cock as I bring my lips down to Luca’s.

I lick from the bottom of Luca’s cock to the tip, putting him in my mouth once I reached there. I suck back and forth on his cock slowly as I grab the bottom of it. I begin sucking a little faster as I stroke the bottom of his cock with my hand. I release Luca from my mouth and lay on my back. Luca crawls his way to my pussy connecting his mouth onto my clit as he pumps two fingers inside of me. As he continues I moan out softly, I watch Johnny throw his head back at the sound of the moan escaping my mouth.

Luca pulls his finger out and reaches up to grab on to my tit as he flicks his tongue around my folds and inside of me. I moan out again as Luca pulls himself away. He gets off the bed and searches his pockets for a condom as Johnny stands up, “I need you to suck my cock babe” he says coming closer stroking his cock. I get on my hands and knees, Johnny stands in front of the bed while I lean in towards him to suck his cock. I flick my tongue on his tip and wrap my tongue around it once before sliding him down my throat. “Fuck!” he says as I continue to suck back and forth faster.

As I continue sucking on Johnny’s cock, I feel Luca lining himself up with my entrance, he then grabbed onto my ass grabbing a handful in each on his hands before sliding himself into me. I release Johnny out of my mouth to moan and johnny leans down to face me he kisses me hard. Luca starts picking up the pace and I moan out everytime his hips crash into my ass breaking the kiss from Johnny. Johnny grabs some of me hair pushing me back into his lips for a hard long kiss than pulls me back, “moan on my cock baby” he says. I open my mouth to moan out again as Luca slaps my ass and Johnny thrusts himself into my mouth deep. As Luca continues to fuck me hard, I moan onto Johnny’s cock sending vibrations through his body. “Fuck Y/n” I hear Luca say behind me as I clench myself around his cock. “I’m close” Luca says and Johnny pulls himself out of my mouth.

“Cum in her mouth” Johnny says to Luca and Luca gladly slides himself out switching positions with Johnny. “FUCK JOHNNY!” I whimper as he rams himself inside of me while continuing the thrust hard and fast without warning.

Luca takes his condom off then strokes his cock a few times getting closer to my mouth. I take Luca into my mouth and immediately start sucking back and forth on Luca’s cock moaning from the impact my pussy is handling. “Fuck, I’m cumming!” Luca says and I try to put Luca as deep into my mouth as possible as he releases himself inside my mouth. He backs himself out of my mouth as Johnny puls himself out of me

“Fuck baby, Give me your mouth” Johnny moans out. I turn and Johnny grabs the back of my head then slides himself into my mouth. Luca sits on the side of the bed beside me rubbing circles around my clit. I push my head back a forth on Johnny’s throbbing cock before, “Holy fucking shit!” escapes Johnny’s mouth and he cums in mine. He pulls out too soon, having cum fall under my lip. I feel Johnny’s thumb drag across under my lip then he puts it in my mouth, for me to suck before he comes in to give me a kiss. Luca stands up and starts putting his clothes on. Johnny pulls away and starts doing the same then collects my clothes handing them to me after.

“That was fun” Luca says laughing, “Let’s do that again!”

“Y/n?” Johnny looks over at me to get my opinion, I bite my lip and look at Johnny.

“Whatever you want Johnny” I say and Johnny looks at his best friend

“Yeah, she wants to do it again”

#johnny druskinis #luca fantilli #luca fantilli imagine #umich hockey smut #umich hockey imagine #umich imagine #umich hockey

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robynlilyblack · 2 years

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hey robyn!! how are u doing?

can you do Hermione x fem!reader when they have a baby? adopted or not, you decide... and reader being wolfstar daughter please

Oh dear merlin we’ve made another one

wife! hermione granger x mom! reader (feat wolfstar dads/grandads)

Summary: Hermione comes home to find her daughter, wife and father-in-laws have had a good day

Warnings: established relationship, wolfstar parents/grandparents

A/n: 0.7k words, hi! I'm good how are you? Their daughter is a toddler/small child rather than a baby I hope thats okay ♡

Navigation | Golden Era Characters Masterlist

Hermione dropped the keys in the small bowl by the door, smiling as she can hear the giggles of her daughter bouncing around the walls. Hanging up her coat and scarf she walks down the hall only to be greeted by your father, Remus, putting his finger to his lips as he hithers for her to follow him quietly

She does as her old professor, now father in law says, creeping slowly towards the door of the living room to see her daughter clapping and giggling at the large black dog sitting with a robin on its snout. She glances up at Remus to see him smiling wide, then back to the scene, watching as your animagus hops over onto your daughter extended hand eruptupting in more happy squeals while the dog lays down next to her, head on her lap and looking delighted at the ear scratches he receives with her free hand

“How long have they been entertaining her like that?” she whispers toward Remus

He chuckles “Well we showed up around 11 so 6/7 hours? Though they did nap together around 2 then eat the soup I gave them before continuing on” he informs her “Not mad are ya?” he checks before joking “He’s had his shots”

She giggles at that “No not at all, especially not when it makes my little pumpkin so happy” she says the last part a little louder gaining yours, Sirius’ and your daughters attention

“Mummy!” she squeals, bouncing on her bum and getting all excited “I’m like the book!” she shines holding you up proudly on her finger

“What book pumpkin?” Hermione walks deeper into the room, kneeling down in front of her while Sirius doesn’t shift back he does walk over to the couch and jump up on it, laying his head on Remus’ lap now he’s taken a seat

“One with the emotional dwarfs” she answers earning laughs from Remus and Hermione, as well as a snuff and tweet they assume are also laughs from you and Sirius

“Snow White, pumpkin?” she leans in and kisses her nose, falling onto her side as she looks down at her daughter, heart feeling whole again now she’s in your presence

Speaking of you, you fly up and land on her shoulder “Hi sweets” she whispers and you muzzle yourself into her cheek to say hi back

“Yeah! Grampa Moons said the muggles made a movie about it” your daughter says with a cheesy grin, a grin everyone knew meant you were all watching it tonight

“Did he now?” Hermione turns back to the man who just shrugs with a wink “Well I don’t know about that you’ll have to ask your cooler mum” Hermione looks towards you, still perched on her shoulder

You hop off and onto floor in front of your wife and daughter, shifting back with a knowing smile at the former

“Can we mum?! Pretty please with cherries on top!”

You melt at her little pout and bright eyes, and despite it being impossible, much like yourself she somehow inherited yours and your fathers puppy eyes

“Since you asked so nicely” you bend down and run your nose against her little one making her giggle and bounce with the sweetest little grin “Dad?” you turn to Remus, smiling as you your other father has now completely taken over his lap in his dog for

“There’s a video shop down the road where we can rent the tape” he answers the question without needing to know “You want to come with us to get it? Leave your mums to get the snacks ready?” he then turns to your daughter

You and Hermione smile as she quickly gets to her feet “Can we take Grampa Pads too!” She asks and that’s what makes your father jump down from the couch and shift back

“What did we discuss little one?” he eyes her with a smirk, pointing a little as he kneels in front of her

“Not to call you a Grandpa because you’re too gorgeous and youthful to be one”

“Ugh” Remus scoffs “Hello” he waved at them while you and Hermione find each others sides, your head falling into her shoulder as you giggle

“Hi” they both wave back in unison, and both wear wicked grins

“Oh dear merlin we’ve made another one” Remus looks towards you and Hermione before pressing his hand to his face and sniggering

Thank you for reading ♡

#hermione granger x reader #hermione granger and reader #hermione granger x you #hermione x reader #hermione and reader #hermione granger #hermione x you #hermione granger fluff #mom reader #mom hermione #golden era #wolfstar daughter #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black

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rachi-roo · 8 months

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AAAAAHFINALLY SOMONE WHO DOES ANGELS OF DEATH

breathes

Anyway could I request a ler issac fic cause god him being a mean a sadistic ler and teaser brain go brrrrrr where he chases a reader, their worse spots being their ribs and hips

-------------{ ☆°•○•°☆ }--------------

Angels Of Death: Tickly Terror

Uh oooooh! I've been found by a fellow AOD fan 🫣 Greetings, I think I love you! XD Thanks so much for the request and your patience! Zack is such a MONSTER! I luv it 🤩

Summary: Reader is attacked by a certain serial killer who has a soft spot for people in your line of work. He won't kill you now, but he has other plans to make you suffer.

Ler!Issac, Lee!Reader

Tw: Knifes, Swearing, Cruel tiggles

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Well, this was not what you had in mind for a nice Friday out on the town.

Running for your life, that is.

It all happened so fast. You knew taking that shortcut down the backstreets might be a bad idea, but you thought the worst might be some bum asking for a lighter, not a crazed maniac to start chasing after you with a knife.

You glanced over your shoulder, heart pounding in your chest. He was still there. Hot on your heels and gaining. The sound of his boots and insane laughter growing louder and louder. Chills running down the back of your neck.

He's coming! He's right on you!

You feel your stomach drop as you trip, tumbling to the concrete with a thud. You spin your head round, suddenly face to face with your pursuer.

His bandage covered face inches from yours as he smiled an unsettling smile. You can smell blood on his clothes. That coppery scent was dried onto his dirty hoodie.

It felt like an eternity of staring at each other before he finally spoke.

"Not gonna beg for your life?" He asked, standing over your body with a chuckle as he toyed with the knife in his hand, feeling the blade from handle to point. "I'll make this quick if you do." He continued, lowering himself onto your waist and placing a hand over your throat, holding you in place.

Petrified, you just lay there, staring at him. Your chest heaving, heart about to jump from your ribs.

A squeak left your lips as his knife suddenly slashed towards your throat. You clench your eyes shut. Waiting for the impact-!

...Impact?

You anxiously open one eye, looking up at the attacker who now held your ID card from work as it had fallen from your pocket. He narrowed his eyes as the words.

"... Does this say nurse?" He asked, showing you the card.

You gulp, trembling as you speak. "Y-Yes... I'm a c-childrens hospice nurse... I work with orphans."

The attackers face sank as he tossed your ID aside with an aggrivated groan. "Damn it. I can't kill ya' now I know that... Damn, Ray. She made me soft!" He cursed himself as you watched on, wondering who 'Ray' was.

Though, that didn't really matter. What mattered was the fact you weren't going to die! A small sigh of relief passing your jittering lips. The feeling didn't last long though.

"However, I'm still going to have to make you scream. I went through the trouble of chasing you down after all. I've earned it." The boy nodded as he leaned closer, softly tracing the dull side of his knife up and down your side.

The feeling of the dull point dragging across your side, through your thin shirt, sent a tingling sensation across your torso. You bit your lip, biting back a smile as your fingers curled up reflexively. What if a smiling pisses him off?!

But, it tickles! So bad! The cold tone of your attacker reminded you of the situation you're in.

"Your tag said y/n... So tell me, y/n, where should I start? Don't worry, I'll keep the injuries hidden. I don't want to worry the kiddies or-... Are you fucking smiling right now?" He asked with a dumbfounded glare.

"N-No! No, I'm not! I'm really not!" You blubbered, your hands shooting up defensively as you fought down a giggle.

"Yes you are! I saw it! You we're so smiling! You think this is funny? You got some kind of pain kink or something? Youd better tell me cus' I aint here for that noise."

"No! No, I-I swear it's not that! Your knife! It- It just- Eek!" You squeal as he traced the length of your stomach with the dull blade again.

The boy smirked, a sadistic glint in his eyes as he finally put all the pieces together.

"Oooh." He chuckled.

"No! No, it's not what you think!"

"Haha, I think it's exactly what I think." He shifted his weight, trapping your arms by your side, beneath his knees. He knacked his knuckles, grinning a fanged grin as he prepared himself for the fun he was going to have with your helpless body.

He held his limber didgets out, flexing them close to your stomach to start with, revelling in the way you squeaked and tried to suck your belly in to avoid the fingers.

"I'd say sorry, but I'm really not." He chuckled before diving into your soft skin, vibrating and clawing at your tummy.

"Gh-! Haha! N-Noho! H-Hehey! Wait! WAIT! PleheEEEHE-!"

You giggle, legs kicking out behind your attacker as he dug into your tummy, chuckling with you.

"Hmm, I think you can beg better than that." He smirked, his hands shifting to ruthlessly claw at your sides. Even rolling up your shirt to attack the bare skin directly.

"WAH! S-Stahap! Please! Pleheheee-! Aha!" You yelp, twisting and turning, doing anything you can to escape.

This just eggs your attacker on. The hood of his hoodie shrouding his expression in a shadow, but you can feel him grinning at you, enjoying your suffering.

"Haha, poor little thing. Look at you, so helpless. And I'm not even hurting you! You're just too ticklish for your own good, huh?" He sneered, pinching up and down your sides, until he inched juuust too far upwards, finding your lowest ribs.

"FUHUCK! Wait!" You yelp, curling in on yourself to the best of your ability in your trapped state.

"Hm? Ooohohooo. Is that your sweet spot?" He jeered, latching onto your ribs with deadly precision, vibrating his fingertips into the sensitive dips and bumps that made up your ribcage.

A scream ripped from your mouth as he tickled you there. It really was the worst! This whole situation was a nightmare!

"NOHO! ShihiIIIIHIT! AHAAA-!... gasp AHA! Noho! NNNAAAHA!" No amount of kicking and squirming was working. This sadistic stranger had you trapped and completely at his mercy. Something he definitely wasn't going to give you.

"Take that! And that! Haha! Bet you're regretting coming out tonight now, hah? Tickle, tickle, tickle! Weak, ticklish little looser, aren't ya?" He teased, cruelly insulting you in a childish manner. Not letting up from your sensitive ribs yet.

"Pleheheee-!... gasp GAHAHAAAD!"

"I ain't no God, call me Zack." He chuckled.

"Zahack! Plehehease! Stop! Stop! Stop! StahAHAHA!" The more you begged, the more he tickled. He was truly an evil being.

Zack grinned, shifting his hands and drilling his thumbs into your hips as he spoke.

"Ooh, look at that expression. So much suffering under such a bright smile. Haha! So silly looking~ Coochie, coochie, coo~"

"NYAAHAHA! ZAAAHACK!" You arch your back, desperately trying to dislodge his vicious thumbs from your protruding hips. "Fuhuck! NnnOHO-!... *gasp* AHAHA!"

Nothing worked! Nothing was going to work! You were completely at his mercy.

Hearing your pleas, he laughed, mocking your attempts to make him stop. "Oooh, Zaaack! Please! Don't tickle me! Oh nooo! Haha! You sound so pathetic! Tickle, tickle, tickle~! How about here? Or here? Nah, back to the ribs!"

He teased and taunted, his hands dancing between various different areas of your torso before latching back onto your ribs.

As the tears pooled in your eyes, and the laughter became breathy and full of hiccups, you wondered if he would ever stop.

"HEHELP! Help-! Ahaha! H-HeheaaaAAAHA! Help mehehe! Please!"

"Calling for help now? Pff, you really are completely helpless, aren't ya?" His cruel smile sent a shiver down your spine, realising just how right he was.

"NOHO! S-ShihihahaAHA-! AH!" A yelp passed your lips as the crook buried his face into your neck, blowing a raspberry into your skin, making you shrill in ticklish delight.

He loved the sounds you were making. So pained, yet so happy! It's weird, even this killer knows that. "Haha, I wonder how long you can take this. An hour? Several hours? A day maybe?! PfffAHAHA! Let's find our, shall weeee? Yyyyy/nnnn~?"

You weren't sure how long this torture had gone on for, but the awful tickling sensations on your hips suddenly stopped. You blinked the tears from your eyes, realising that Zack was no longer sitting upon your waist.

He stood, yawning and stretching his arms as if he was the one who was tuckered out. "Aaah... Bored now. You can go." He chuckled, nudging your shoe with his.

".... Oooor you can stay on the floor? If that's what you want?" When he realised just how tired you were, he scoffed, standing over your head and grinning down at you.

"Let's put it this way, if you stay there too long, I might get all worked up and start tickling you again."

"I'M UP! I'm going!" You scramble to your feet with a sudden burst of energy. The thought of another round of tickles made you feel ill. You dashed a few feet out of his range before turning back to see... No-one.

The Tickly Terror was still out there somewhere. He's probably looking his next victim...

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Thank you for reading! 😚❤️

#rachi roo #sfw tickles #satsuriku no tenshi #angels of death #AOD #issac foster #Zack Foster #Ler!Zack #Ler!IssacFoster #lee!reader #lee!y/n #x reader #sfw tickling community #mean tickles #rough tickles

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