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peachesofteal · 3 months

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Simple Math / Part Seven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Brief suggestive content, sex dream. Mentions of domestic violence, stalking. Hospital setting, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear, anxiety. Mentions of stress and weight loss. Soft dads. Little bit of flirting. Simon is... Simon. You get caught in a spell.

Johnny knows this is a dream.

It’s an odd thing, to be conscious of it, to know you’re dreaming but still unable to control your actions. It’s like watching a movie of yourself, but also being yourself, directing your body without having a say in what it’s doing.

He knows this is a dream, because you’re in it. You’re in their home, in one of Simon’s oversized sweatshirts, boy shorts rucked up over the little lightning bolts that arc across your hips, the underside of your cheeks. You’re smiling at him too, like you belong in there, like it’s yours too, and his heart swells, growing to a preposterous size.

“There’s my bunny.” He pulls you into his chest, mouthing up your neck and over your jaw. Your skin tastes like sugar, and when he gets to your lips, his hands shift, sliding down your back to grab two fistfuls of your ass with a groan. “Missed ye.”

“We missed you too.” His fingers trace the edge of your panty line, barely dipping into where you drip for him. “Come to bed, Si’s waiting.” You whisper, stifling a moan.

“Johnny.” Simon calls him, too loudly. He wants to hiss, snap at him about not waking the baby. “Johnny!”

His eyes blink open. White ceiling stares back at him, and he turns his head, finding Simon with a bemused look on his face.

“I was havin’ a great dream.” Johnny grumbles, latching onto him. Simon scoots closer, lifting the back of his hand to his lips with a secretive smile, dotting kisses down to his wrist.

“I know.”

“- and he has access privileges, as long he’s not interfering with care, he’s allowed to be in the room whenever he deems fit. Obviously, in cases where he shouldn’t be, like burn debridement, he’s fine with stepping out, but you should expect him to sleep here.” The nurse nods, nervously peeking over your shoulder at Simon, who’s lurking in the hallway, staring through the glass at the transport techs getting Johnny settled in his room. You catch her eyes, motioning to redirect her attention, and she mumbles a meek apology. “They have a daughter, who Johnny has been mostly separated from since he got here, and he’s hoping to see her often, since she’ll be allowed to visit more freely now. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay.” Her toes tap against linoleum, weight shifting from foot to foot, and you resist the urge to sprint back to her boss and demand someone else. Fuck. Why does Nora have to be on maternity leave?

“This is my favorite patient.” You warn her instead, dropping your voice low, pitching it brazenly serious. “I don’t ever want to see him back upstairs again, and that’s going to depend a lot on you.”

“Okay, okay.” Her work phone rings, and you jerk your head in dismissal, not quite finished, but not seeing a need to continue to harangue her, either.

Simon glances at you from down the hall, head turning once you’re alone. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t call to you, or say your name, but you’re helpless to the magnetic yank of his presence, a beam of gravity dragging you closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder, looking into Johnny’s room. He’s asleep, dark lashes feathered against his cheeks, blissed out and nearly snoring. “This will be great.” You say quietly. “He can see Penny almost as much as he wants down here. There are far less restrictions, and he’s doing so well, there’s nothing to worry about it.” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the x-ray vision that peels you open. Like he’s digging around in your head again.

“D’you have a minute?” You blink at him, graceful words dried out and missing.

“Uh, I… yeah, I’m technically off now so. Sure?”

“Have a tea with me? I’ll meet you outside the café, on the patio. Ten minutes alright?” Have a… have a tea with him?

His eyes are heavy. They’re lasered, locked onto yours, brows knitted together in something soft, some form of emotion that you don’t understand, framing his face above the mask. How can you say no?

“Okay, sure. Ten minutes.” You try to hide how your hands shake, tucking fingernail to palm, squeezing tight.

It doesn’t escape him.

You grow more afraid with each day, that nothing does.

The paper cup cradled in Simon’s outstretched grip is like every other paper cup you’ve seen before, drank from a thousand times, with steam wafting from its rim and aromatics spilling out into the air. “Sorry.” You blurt, reaching. His fingers brush against yours, warm contact momentarily stunning you. ‘Thanks.” You lift the tea to your nose, inhaling deeply.

Irish breakfast. With milk. Your favorite.

“How do you know what tea I drink?” You don’t mean for it to sound so suspicious, or aggressive, but it does. It’s nearly accusatory, but doesn’t affect him. He merely shrugs in response.

“I pay attention.” An engine turns over in the carpark, a small car sweeping across the lot as it turns out onto the street. You watch, feigning mild interest, trying to get a closer look at the driver without appearing too fixated. “So.” He sips, and then removes the lid, vapor rising from the top in a delicate little dance. “How long have you been at Addenbrooke’s?”

“A few years.” The answer is effortlessly supplied, like you’re under a spell. Your eyes go round. What are you doing? Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his own, and you manage a shaky smile.

“What brought you across the pond?” He jokes, velvet, soothing lilt in his voice.

“Work.” It’s easy to lie about this, the fabrication usually used in casual conversation almost every day with patients and new coworkers, people who are interested in you being from somewhere else, having a different accent, different education, customs, the whole lot. His jaw moves behind the mask, and before he can push the question further, you rush out your own interruption. “Simon, I want… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… the other night Johnny said something about,” Your face is nearly scalding, embarrassment laden lump stuck in the back of your throat. “about you and him, and… me, I guess…” you trail off, eyes darting down into the tea.

“Go on?”

“He said that you guys think I’m special, and you- you said-“

“That we’re here for you.” He finishes, nonchalant.

“Right.” You breathe a little easier, knowing he knows what you’re talking about, words picking up steam. “I want you to know that it’s totally normal to feel this way. It happens a lot, you know. Patients and, or their family members, loved ones, they get attached. This affection starts to happen towards a member of the care team because we become that person who… provides care, twenty-four seven. So, you and… and Johnny, feeling like you have this attachment towards me, it’s very normal. Not a big deal.” You finish in one big breath, cutting your ramble short. His cheeks swell behind the fabric, like he’s smiling, eyes squinting again.

“That’s not what this is.” That’s not… what this is? What does that mean?

“What?”

“Transference. That’s not what is happening here.”

“How do you…”

“I’ve had years of therapy.” He sighs. “Are you uncomfortable?” Say yes, the girl in your head screams. Tell him you need it all to stop. That you don’t like them, that it’s inappropriate. You know how this will end.

“No.” You don’t know why you don’t acquiesce to your own good sense, why you ignore the very clear boundaries and rules that have kept you alive this long.

“Bunny, I need you tell me, honestly, if you are uncomfortable.” He levels you with an intense look, seriousness bleeding from his irises to yours. You press your palms flat on the table, quelling their trembling.

“It’s not… it’s not you. Or Johnny.” You whisper, eyes slipping shut. It’s easier that way, to just close them, to hide. To pretend you’re somewhere else, to block everything out.

What the fuck are you doing right now? Your brain screams, but your heart wails.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected?

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice is low, calming, and when you don’t answer, one of his hands folds over yours. “are you with me?”

“Yes.” You peek at him, and then fully let yourself look around, steadying the rancid fear that permeates through your body. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He hums, hand still over yours. It’s warm, and broad, big thumb stroking a slow circle into your skin. “Is today your Friday?” You nod.

“It is, yeah. I’m… I’m looking forward to catching up on some sleep.” He straightens in the chair, shoulders and torso so unbelievably wide, like a long forgotten mythological god. Or the trunk of a massive tree.

“Will you have dinner with us, tonight?” The last of the orange red dawn spills over the crest of the buildings, and the world spins, cold sweat breaking out down your back.

“What?”

“Dinner, with us. I’m picking up takeaway for Johnny from his favorite place as a celebration, for graduating the ICU. We’d love to spend some time with you. Get to know you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, I…” Say no, you have to say no, shut this down. It’s too much risk.

“No pressure. Just, hanging out, talking. As friends, if you like.” Butterflies thrash in your stomach so violently your knees bounce, and your heart leaps, pitching itself off a cliff like it wants to die.

“Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you u-“

“No! No, I’m fine. I have some errands to run after I get up for the day so, I’ll just meet you here.” It will be just like going to work. No harm, no foul. You can hang out with them, and go home, just like you’re at work. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t.

You barely sleep. You pace, you nap, you thumb through endless craigslist listings in faraway cities for apartments, you read. You take the long way through the city back to your flat and slowly sift through pieces of your life that you want to keep. Your quilt from home, that’s been tucked away on a shelf. A sentimental trinket that belonged to your mom, also hidden in a drawer. These things that can be removed, without being noticed.

Not that it matters.

He hasn’t been here. Not since the sick shit he pulled with your underwear. It makes you curious when you inspect the undisturbed tape on the back side of the door, the light dusting of baking powder on the bedroom carpet, but not surprised.

It’s not unlike him, to make himself known and then suddenly disappear, the endless mind games partially intentional, and partially something not even he can control.

After all, duty calls.

He could still be in the city. He could still be watching. You don’t know anything for sure.

“Three things you cannot outrun in this world, babe. Death, taxes, and… me.” You mumble it to yourself, the same words that live in your head, in his voice, repeated, pulling a pair of scrubs from your dresser.

But you had been running, and still had your life to show for it.

It doesn’t matter, you know how this will end.

You’ve changed your clothes five times. You hem and haw in front of the mirror, trying not to look too closely at any one piece of yourself, switching shirt and pant combos until you finally settle on your usual, a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They’re high waisted, because low rise is not even within the realm of possibility for your hips, and you appreciate how they fit, even if they may sit a little loose right now, given your recent stress levels.

You look fine, you decide. You look professional. You don’t really look attractive, in any way, but the scars on your torso are hidden, and with a little bit of make-up, you think you look presentable. At the very least, you don’t look like you’re half asleep, which is exactly how you feel.

Not like it matters, you chide. This isn’t a thing; it’s just hanging out. You’re going to put an end to this entire charade, tonight.

The train is quiet, and you’re extra watchful. Every face, every movement is logged, every jacket or hat or hood is inspected. Posture, skin tone, height, of every person you pass or see is tabulated and run through your mind. Your brain, a supercomputer in its own right, does it all, seamlessly. It wants to protect you, it keeps you on guard, it can look at a crowd of twenty people all facing the opposite direction and locate a potential threat, just by the shape of the shoulders.

You don’t see him, you don’t feel him, your skin doesn’t prickle, and you let the lack thereof bring you peace, if only for a few moments.

Johnny’s floor is bustling. You wave hi to those you know, checking in with his nurse for a moment, letting her know you’ll be hanging out for a bit. She doesn’t even bat an eye, thankfully, and you try to settle yourself as you turn down the hall.

You’re not prepared for what you find when you knock on his door and slide it open, breath catching for a moment, and you scramble to cover your initial balk.

Their daughter is here. She’s cuddled up on Johnny’s good side, the one without the burnt tissue or recovering surgical wound. She’s asleep, wearing a black onesie covered in skulls, her head tipped back and mouth open, chubby cheeks and sweet little face perfectly content. She’s got her entire fist wrapped around one of Johnny’s fingers, holding it right under her chin like she’s afraid he might vanish while her eyes are closed. “Hey, bun.” Johnny whispers, smiling so wide, two fingers stroking through the wispy curls on top of her head. “We snuck in a visitor tonight.”

“I see.” Your heart trembles.

“Fell asleep right away, next to her Da. Been missin’ him these past few nights.” Simon chuckles, patting Johnny’s leg gently, affectionately. There’s a bag of take out on the table behind him, as well as what looks like an overnight bag, a purple duffel stuffed full. “Price is on his way to pick her up.” Penny gurgles, eyes blinking open in a sleepy daze like she knew they were talking about her.

“Ye’re alright, sh-shh, wee lamb.” Johnny coos. She’s half soothed by his words, but the lights in the room are far too bright, and her small noises waver into a cry, frustrated and tired. He tries move her, cradler her higher up his chest, but his face falls with pain, and Simon swoops in, pulling her into his arms. “Bunny, could ye-“

“Would you-“ They both try to ask at once, and you flounder once you realize the intention, a cranky, sleepy Penelope being pushed into your arms.

“I-“ she wails, interrupting you, bending you to her will without fuss, and you hold her closer, rocking side to side, humming above her ear. Just like the NICU, like a patient, like your stint in L&D, it’s fine, it’s-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Not fine. It’s not fine. Heat burns in your belly. He can’t call you that, not when you’re holding their baby. “Thank you.” Simon says over his shoulder. He’s moving Johnny, lowering the bed slightly to help reposition him, and they speak quietly to one another, voices low enough you can’t make out any of the words.

“I can help you with him, if you want.” He waves you off.

“I need the practice, won’t have you around all the time anymore, yeah? And once he gets home…”

“Ach. ‘m not paralyzed. Jus’ uncomfortable.” Johnny glowers, pouting, and you roll your eyes, rhythm steady, gently bouncing, letting Penny cuddle into your chest, snuggling her face against your arm and side. She’s beautiful, precious and sweet, cooing herself back into a light slumber, and you smile despite yourself, still rocking after her eyes start to shut. “Knew she’d like ye.” He says softly, and you glance up, surprised by the intensity of their focus, heavy gazes fixed on you.

“She’s very sweet.” Your lips twist.

“She is.” Simon agrees. “We were happy to get her some time with her Da. Good for both of ‘em.” His fingers find Johnny’s cheek, and then their hands meet, a palm pressed to lips, a whispered a I love you.

An intimate moment, as you stand there with their baby in your arms.

“Alright, now that ye’ve done the hard work by gettin’ her back down,” Johnny gestures, urging you to step forward, and you carefully place her back in his arms. For a moment, your faces are level, and you get caught in his eyes, nerves strung so tight they could be a tightrope. “I’ve got her.” Weeks in the hospital, and he still smells like cedar and oranges, woodsy citrus that envelopes you, your lashes fluttering on the inhale. “She likes ye.” He murmurs, breath warm and tickling over your cheek.

“Well, she’s...” you straighten, hands smoothing down the front of your top. They’re moist, somehow, and you tuck them behind your back. “She’s a good judge of character, I guess.” Simon’s phone vibrates, Johnny’s plush smile turning dour, and he sighs.

“Okay baby girl. It’s time.” She cries a little, readjusting to Simon’s hold, and he slings the purple duffel over his shoulder, promising to be right back. Johnny nods, eyes downcast, and his face twists once the door shuts, cheeks turning red, staccato, hiccupped breaths coming fast.

“Hey.” You whisper. “Hey, Johnny.” The chair at his bedside creaks under you, and you lean forward, fingertips lightly caressing the tape residue that still sticks to his skin. You should clean that off.

“’m alright.” His shoulders roll, chin jutting out, brilliant blue gleam in his eyes returning, like storm clouds rolling off after rain. He’s silent for a beat, pinky finger folding over yours. “How was yer day?”

“Oh, it was… fine.”

“Simon said ye were goin’ to catch up on some sleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” You laugh, and he smiles. “I feel okay though. Still awake at least.”

“I’m glad… ye came. I’m sorry if the other night, I was too… forward.”

“That’s okay. You’re just… so flirty, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” You tease, expecting to get a lighthearted quip in response, or a laugh, but he gives you neither, only a serious, sympathetic expression.

“I didnae mean to make ye uncomfortable. Felt terrible, when ye ran off, I-“

“I’m fine, Johnny. You… you didn’t. I mean, it was just… confusing, this is… this is a lot.” He nods.

“I know it is.”

“And you don’t even know me.” His brow creases, focus narrowed in so tightly on you, white walls, white hospital blanket, white everything falling away in a spiral of color.

“I know ye better than ye might think." He cracks a smile. "We want to, if ye’d let us.” No, you don’t. You almost say it. Almost promise him that knowing you would be the stuff of their nightmares, that they have no idea what they’re trying to bite into, or bite off, a near guarantee that it would be than they could chew.

“Well, no harm in making new friends, right?” You entreat weakly, and his eyes flash, ethos of an entire life that you have no knowledge of slipping through, and the dark severity rumbling in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“Aye, bun. Especially when they look like ye in a pair of jeans.”

Dinner is an idyllic affair. Johnny’s favorite takeaway turns out, is Indian, like yours, and the three of you talk for hours, trading bites back and forth, laughing and listening to stories, discovering little bits and pieces about their lives while running interference on personal questions about yourself, allowing them to dip in skin deep, skimming off the top but never getting further. They tell you about themselves, Penelope, their jobs, how they met, and Johnny confides in you about his sketchbook collection, pages upon pages of charcoal and pencil line work, portraits of Simon and Pen covering each page, landscapes, and the occasional cartoon. Your spine eventually starts to wilt, muscles liquifying into goo that can barely hold you upright, and you curl up in the armchair, chin on your palm, listening to the ebb and flow of their voices as they tell you a particular story about how they came to find their current home, a near slapstick comedy about an interaction with the previous owner. Their voices soothe your restless mind, wrap you in a cozy embrace that feels so safe, so comfortable that you can’t fight the languid, siren call of sleep, eyes drooping into darkness, drifting away on their melodies, content and too tired to rationally put together what’s happening. At some point, something covers you up, knit warmth that is tucked in around your shoulders, your feet, a tender touch on your neck and cheek. A whisper of affection soothes the unease that lurks in the background of it all, and you fall into it lazily, farther into the hold of sleep, something your brain and body are desperate for.

When the lights go dim, you don’t even realize, already lost to the sand of slumber.

Around midnight, you wake with a start. Your heart is racing, triple timing in your chest, and you squint in the dark, trying to parse together where you are, what happened.

Oh no. Oh god, did you fall asleep on them? Did you fall asleep in Johnny’s room?

Simon calls your name. He’s settled in a recliner, head turned your direction, mellow light from the little lamp spilling across his features. “Are you alright?” Your mouth is dry, the web of sleep that holds you in suspension finally starting to wane, fuzzy clouds in your head trying to clear without much luck.

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.”

“I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Wanted to let you sleep. I know you were tired, and Johnny was out almost immediately after you.”

“Th-thanks.” Your back groans, muscle and bone grinding together, stiff from sleeping in a cramped position for hours, and you’re surprisingly unsteady on your feet. Simon’s out of his chair in a second, turning around the end of Johnny’s bed to offer you a hand, his other lightly resting between your shoulder blades.

“Easy.”

“Sorry… just… think ‘m more tired than I realized.” It’s dark, and you’re disorientated, woozy, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, limbs and lids still heavy and desperate to fall back asleep.

“I’ll drive you home.” His keys jingle, and you know you should reject him, refute this presumption, push him off, but you can’t string the right words together in your mind, can’t bring yourself to truculently pull away.

So, you don’t. And to your surprise, your shock, it feels… nice. You let him open the door for you, get you settled, you listen to his music on the way, city flying past outside the window, quiet hour of the night crawling by. You let him help you out of the car when you pull up to the curb, and when he asks if he can walk you up, your rational pugnacity is nowhere to be found.

“This is me.” You gesture to the door, fumbling in your wallet for your keycard.

“How long have you been in the hotel?”

“Oh, not long. Reno just started so…” His head turns, surveilling the hallway. You’re in an end room, far from the elevator but close to the stairs, as requested, and there’s a camera that sits on the ceiling, green dot consistently blinking. He glances at it, then back to you, head tilted.

“Are you safe here?” The world goes cold. Your stomach roils, blood draining from your face, and you try to hold yourself steady, mind turning over a million times. You’re overreacting. He’s just asking in a general sense. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t. Breathe. Deep breath.

“I uh, yeah. It’s got a deadbolt.” Along with a door stop alarm, and a security bar. He steps closer, so close that you can smell him, fresh laundry and musk, something spicy lingering there, something dark and enchanting.

“Are you in trouble, little bunny?” You’re in his shadow, beneath the stretch of a mountain, shielded by it, by a monolith so large it could blot out the sun. It overwhelms you, slows the racing pace of your mind, and you try to sort through the merry go round of feelings that are all trying to push their way out of your mouth.

You’ve never felt this. Never felt this… desire, to entrust someone with your life. Never felt this… attraction, this hold that the two of them have on you.

It makes you want to trust them. Makes you want to lay it all out and beg them to help you. Makes you want to close your eyes and leap, praying they’ll catch you.

It’s wicked. It’s dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.

It’s unfair.

“No.” You whisper. You can’t look at him, and time slows in the silence, your anxiety piquing. Of course, he would assume something is wrong, after witnessing the panic attack. Don’t read too far into it.

“But you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He’s pragmatic, yet still kind, watching you with intent. It doesn’t allay any of the stress that’s building up the back of your throat and closing it, cutting you off from the oxygen you desperately need.

After an eon, he sighs.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can keep your secrets. For now.” You choke.

“I… I should probably-“ you jerk your head towards the door, half turning away to swipe your keycard.

“Alright.” He moves carefully, dipping low, and you stand immobilized, confused and quivering as his cloth covered mouth presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. It’s like he’s bewitched you, cursed you, and you can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. “Thanks for coming tonight.” You’re a deer in headlights, a rabbit in a scope.

“Simon.” His name is the only thing you know right now, and it comes out reedy, almost a squeak.

“Get some rest. We’ll text you tomorrow.” He pushes the door wide, arm snaked behind your shoulders, and when you don’t move, he urges you forward, an encouraging hand on the small of your back. Your feet blindly stumble through the motions, searching for the light switch, for your sanity. “Goodnight, bun.” He hums, and the door clicks shut, leaving you alone, staring at the beige-yellow paint on the wall.

The afternoon trains are packed. It makes your skin crawl, not because you dislike busy or hectic places, but because there are too many eyes. You force your head to stay up, casually scrolling past the faces that are turned every which way, keeping your back to a corner or window as often as possible. You’re not sure you even needed to take this route, the one where you loop around and change trains twice, but… old habits die hard.

You’re lighter today, mentally. It’s in your steps on the stairs, the way you tilt your face up to the sun, how you bounce and bob a little along to the rhythm in your headphones.

You try not to read into it, too much. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the good morning text messages from Johnny and Simon, or the hilarious back and forth between them after Simon sent a god-awful joke to the group chat. It has nothing to do with the heat that spreads through your fingers to toes when you think about Simon last night, kissing your forehead.

You slip inside your apartment, popping your headphones free, glancing at the tape and the door jam, before setting your bag on the counter. You idly sort through some mail you left out the other day. Junk, junk, junk, nothing taxing or important, nothing work related or-

A shadow moves. It flickers against the wall by your bedroom, growing larger, stalking closer to the kitchen, to where you stand, frozen, heart pounding in your ears.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

“Hey there, sugar.” He croons, the thick, Texas accent unmistakable, and you breathe his name in horror.

“Phillip.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x reader

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mossymandibles · 4 months

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During one of their more pleasant research expeditions, divers would report gatherings of large manta ray-like creatures. They glided and danced effortlessly, with constellations speckled across their undersides.

Ending the year with some rough art of my manta folk creatures.

#manta ray #sea creatures #monster art #merfolk #mermaid #I’ll probably be spending new years just playing subnautica lol #umbra #astaria

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zanarkandskylines · 2 months

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Unexpected Treasure

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-hero au | married | aged to 26 ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: when bakugo gets caught up in the office after his patrol, you decide to send him some spicy semi-nudes in your hero suit with one sentence - "bringing you a surprise, stay in your office." tags & warnings: 18+ MDNI | CW; Smut - sexting, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, biting/love marks, oral (f!receive), nipple play, rough-ish sex, creampie, talks of pregnancy | porn-with-plot, lovers (married), fluff & tooth-rotting fluff, soft bakugo, feel good/comfort a/n: happy valentine’s day! this idea popped in my head and i couldn't stop thinking about how stinkin' cute it would be, so here you go! after the smut is when the tooth-rotting fluff starts!! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 2,934꒱

[katsuki] gonna be late, sorry sweets. maybe another hour to get this stupid paperwork done

Damn, so much for a surprise dinner. You’ll just bring the surprise to him instead! You were too impatient to wait another hour to tell him about your day.

You slip into the bodysuit of your hero attire, shimmying into the neoprene and spandex as the material hugs your body like a glove. Usually you’d wear a set of tights underneath to cover your legs, but for this purpose, “forgot” them as they’d only end up getting in the way. You grab your phone from the coffee table, lying on the couch as you pose for a few shots of yourself.

Once you’re satisfied with the risqué pictures, you send the set over to your bombastic hero of a husband with one comment.

[y/n] * two pictures attached * [y/n] bringing you a surprise, stay in your office

You grab a bag with some spare clothes and throw on a long jacket to cover yourself as you head out the door. Before you have your shoes on, your phone dings three times.

[katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] shit baby [katsuki] bring your office key, i’m locking the damn door

A coy smile crosses your lips as you shut the door to your shared apartment and swiftly make your way over to Dynamight Agency downtown.

───

The sunset’s rays poured into Bakugo’s 4th floor office, bouncing off the walls and illuminating the paperwork he’s begrudgingly working on. When his phone vibrates, he quickly peeks at the notification for your response.

Imagine his shock when he opens the texts to see two half-naked photos of his wife on the living room couch of your home.

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, examining both photos with curious eyes. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and ears heating up as the blood rushed straight to his groin.

The first picture had your suit’s front zipper sitting flush against your ribcage, right under your breasts, as they squished together. He could tell the material was barely holding them in place, your nipples perking through the stretch of the fabric. Your face wasn’t completely visible, just the pout of your perfectly plump lips.

The second picture, though? He audibly grunted as he stared at the glass screen.

You sat on the edge of the couch as the bodysuit rode straight up your center, hands on your thighs as your legs are spread. The snaps on the underside of the suit were struggling to stay secured as it settled in between the flush of your lips, covering nothing but your clit.

Bakugo was so enamored with your body that he didn’t notice when he started fisting himself through his cargo pants.

God, how did he get so lucky to land a bombshell like you?

Without hesitation, he unbuckles the clasps of his belt and shoves his pants and boxers down his thighs, reclining back in his chair as he ferociously gripped his dick. The heat of his palm edged him along as he kept his phone in the other hand, flipping back and forth between your two pictures with each stroke. All he could think about was how much he wanted to tear the snaps open on your crotch with his teeth and devour you, paint your luscious tits with hot cum, watch how your puffy lips wrap around his cock, and fuck you until you were screaming his name into the couch cushions.

The sound of the lock turning on his office door shook Bakugo out of his lust-ridden stupor as he rolled his chair to situate himself under the desk, hiding his erection from sight. You crack the door open, just enough to slip inside, and re-lock the door behind you. He’s panting as sweat rolls out from under his mask, crimson irises locked on to you like a predator spotting its prey.

Was he getting off to your pictures?

Fuck, that’s hot.

”Hey Kats,” you purr, stripping the coat from your shoulders and exposing your hero suit. You drop your bag by the door, along with the jacket, and saunter over to his desk.

“Looks like someone was enjoying himself.”

Bakugo scoffs, pushing his mask up on to his forehead and running a hand through his hair. “Guilty as charged. Can’t help it, you’re fuckin’ sexy.”

As you round the desk, you catch a full glimpse of his flushed cock, dribbling with pre-spend as it gleams against his flesh in the sunlight. You can feel the spandex of your suit getting moist as you bite your lip, yearning for his touch - the string in your belly already wound tightly over catching him in the act.

Bakugo springs up from his chair, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor as he’s grabbing your waist and shoving you up against the desk between his legs. He presses against your center with his hard on, feeling the damp spandex rub against his shaft. Leaning back, you accidentally knock over the stack of papers and sending them tumbling to the floor.

“Looks like someone was enjoying herself,” Bakugo teases mockingly, rocking back and forth against your clothed slit. “Fuck th’ paperwork, rather fuck this pretty cunt of yours instead.”

A soft gasp falls from your lips as he removes himself from your center, kneeling down and pulling your hips to edge of the desk. His breath is hot against your sticky thighs as he licks the wet spot on your spandex, sucking on your clit through the fabric. You roll your hips closer into his mouth, begging for him for more. He smirks, diving into your core and nipping at the buttons on your suit. He grips the fabric between his teeth and throws his head back, successfully ripping the bodysuit’s enclosure open. It springs upward to the bottom of your stomach and exposes your glistening sex on full display, arousal seeping from your folds.

“Mm, someone’s eager,” he coos, swiping a finger through your slick. He brings it to his lips, half-lidded rubies flicking up to you as he swirls his tongue around his own finger, collecting it all seductively.

“God, baby, you taste like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Fucking hell, Katsuki,” you moan, rolling your head back as your mind floods with pleasure.

Bakugo groans as he plunges into your soaking wet center, drinking up every drop of your juices as his tongue circles back and forth from your entrance to your clit. You twitch as a sinful mewl spills out of you, echoing through his office.

“Sh-shit, sorry,” you whimper as another groan is coaxed out of you.

“Fuckin’ scream if y’wanna, baby. Don’t hide those pretty little moans,” he hums in between laps of his tongue, vibrations of his husky voice sent straight into your core. His fingers trail up your body to your throat, tracing your jawline as he moves to your lips, pressing his fingers to them.

“Now be a good girl and open wide.”

You obey, taking his digits into your mouth and roll your tongue around his calloused finger pads.

The inferno blazing in your abdomen is becoming unbearable, rapidly approaching your limit. You didn’t even need foreplay, the thought - and sight - of him jerking off to your pictures was more than enough to catapult you to the edge.

You pull back and release his fingers, a string of drool connecting from your lips to his fingertips.

”N-ah-not to r-rush you, babe, b-but I don’t wanna finish on you’re face,” you say between gasps. “I n-need you to f-fuck me until this goddamn desk breaks. I w-ah-nna come ah-ll over your -”

Bakugo doesn't let you finish your request as he's springing to his feet and scooping his hands under your ass. He positions himself up against your entrance and shoves his cock to the hilt inside of you - full force.

"Anything for you, princess," he growls, enjoying the site of your bouncing tits spilling out of your bodysuit as he begins to thrust aggressively into your weeping cunt. His hands grip into the plush of your ass as he pushes and pulls over and over again, spreading you open with his hot member.

The burn and stretch of him inside you makes you cry out in ecstasy. You’ll never grow tired of just how fucking good he feels, especially when he’s so deep that it feels like he’s rearranging your guts. It’s like he was destined to fuck you with how perfect the two of you meld together.

Bakugo takes one hand off your ass to harshly tug on the zipper between you two, releasing your breast from their clothed confinement. He immediately dips down while moving his hand to your back for support, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking with a rough pop of his lips. A frenzied moan escapes you, arching your back into his body, fueling a carnal desire within him as he continues to nip at your fragile skin, littering your chest with pricks of red in his wake.

You eagerly run your hands to the bottom of his tank top, tugging it up his chest and stopping on his pecs. The second your fingers roll over his harden buds, a guttural groan erupts from his throat. He lurches down, biting at your collarbone. You can feel his canines sink into your skin as you whine his name again and again, each one growing lustier with each snap of his hips.

"F-fuck, 'm not...g-uh," Bakugo stutters into the crook of your neck as he picks up the pace, his rhythm becoming haphazard as his thighs begin to tense.

"M-me too," you cry out, cupping his cheek in your hand to turn his eyes to you.

“I-I love you,” you whisper before biting at his bottom lip, sucking it harshly into a messy kiss as you beg for him to reciprocate.

He groans against your lips, crashing into you with his tongue and teeth, nibbling on your bottom lip in return. The lingering taste of your own cum swirls between your kiss as your body clenches, intoxicated by the intensity of your upcoming orgasm.

Bakugo breaks your kiss as his chest is heaving in sync with your own.

“I-fuck! I fucking love you,” he snarls in your ear. Your walls are clamping down all around his cock, the intense sensation too much for him to bare. He jerks a few more times as the both of you reach your peak, the wave of shared euphoria crashing down as you explosively release together. Heat floods into your center, a mix of your slick and his cum leaking down your thighs. Your body’s convulse in tandem, quivering from the recoil of your joint climax.

“Hell of a surprise, baby,” Bakugo whistles, catching his breath as he slides out of you and sits back in his office chair. He can’t help but stare at you as you soak in the afterglow of your orgasm. You were absolutely beautiful to him, especially splayed over his office desk stuffed full of his seed.

Good thing he had a corner office where no one bothered him if the door was closed. It was late, anyways, it was unlikely anyone was wandering around the agency at this hour.

You push off the desk and make your way over to your bag by the door. Rummaging around, you pull out a towel, a fresh pair of underwear, sweatpants and a Dynamight hoodie to change into. Bakugo notices and can’t help but cackle at how prepared you were as you change clothes and toss him the towel to clean himself up after you.

“I know you’re a through planner, babe, but damn.”

“Well, that wasn’t the surprise I was talking about,” you say mischievously.

He quirks an eyebrow at you as he fixes his shirt and scoots forward in his chair to finish putting his pants back on. “Oh?”

You strut over to him, straddling his lap and snaking your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you in place.

“I actually had a whole dinner and whatnot planned for tonight, but I couldn’t wait after you said you’d be caught up in the office.”

Bakugo’s confusion deepens at your comment, unsure of what it is you could be hinting at. He scrunches his brows together, tilting his head to the side.

“Sorry for gettin’ stuck here and messin’ up your plan. Now are y’gonna tell me what it is, or…?”

You’re mentally preparing yourself as you unlace one arm from around his neck and reach into the pocket of your sweatpants, trembling with excitement.

“Remember how I’ve complaining about how sore and achy I’ve been lately?”

“Yeah, y’had that blood test a few days ago. Did ya get that back today?” He asks, not following what that had to do with whatever surprise you had planned.

“I did,” you say as you hand him the folded piece of paper. “I found out why.”

Bakugo shifts the office chair closer to the desk, allowing you to lean back against the trim as he used his hands to unfold the paper. Your demeanor hints that you’re not sick or in bad health, so he’s not immediately worried. He’s scanning over the results until his eyes settle on one particular section.

“No fucking way, are you serious?!” He’s practically vibrating out of the chair beneath you.

You nod your head vigorously. “Mhm! Think Mitsuki saved your old All Might onesies?”

He snatches you by the waist as he jumps to his feet, cradling you as he spins ecstatically. You don’t recall a time, aside from your wedding, that you’ve seen him this overjoyed about anything. Setting you down on the desk, parting your legs to remain as close as possible to you. He cradles your face in his heated palms. The smile that adorns his lips is genuine, his eyes aflame with adoration.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, y/n.”

Bakugo locks his lips with yours, and the kiss isn’t sexual in nature. It’s full of love and endearment, a tenderness that makes your heart flutter and fills your body with bliss. When the two of you part, his eyes are glassy as he touches his forehead to yours.

“We’re finally gettin’ to start our family,” he whispers. “I’m gonna be a fuckin’ dad. Holy shit.”

Hearing him say it out loud makes you choke out the sob you’ve been withholding, beaming with happiness as your tears start to flow.

“Up for the challenge?” You tease playfully, sniveling and giggling as you pull him close for a hug.

“With you? Always.”

Bakugo takes a step back from your hold to delicately place a hand on your stomach, touching you as if you were made of porcelain.

“Do y’know how far along you are?”

“The doctor told me on the phone about 8 or 9 weeks. I thought my period was late from work stress all this time.”

“You’re definitely not workin’ after tonight!” Bakugo demands, his hands moving to your shoulders. “No way in hell you’re fighting with our baby taggin’ along in ya. I’m the boss ‘round here anyways, I’ll handle the stressful shit from now on.”

“Okay, hotshot. Calm down,” you joke, reaching up and ruffling his spiky locks. He sighs, shoulders slumping as the anxiety leaves his body.

“Now I feel kinda bad for railin’ you so hard against the desk,” he snickers, a blush creeping up his neck as he turns his head away from you.

“Oh, I don’t. How do you think I got pregnant in the first place?”

Embarrassment rushes straight to his cheeks, burning hot at your lewd comment. His reaction sends you into a fit of laughter, holding your stomach as you lay back on his desk.

“Better get used to not seeing me in that tight ass suit anymore, I bet it won’t even fit in a month’s time,” you exclaim, shaking your head at the thought.

Bakugo snorts. “Don’t matter if it fits or not, I’m gonna make ya wear it.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling from ear to ear.

How’d you get so lucky? You’ll never know.

“So,” you exhale, sitting up on the desk. “Who do we tell first?”

He ponders your question and rolls his eyes at his own answer before speaking it aloud.

“Ma would kill me if her and pop weren’t first in line. Wanna stop by on the way home, get it outta the way?”

“Hah, alright. We can call my mom tomorrow and stop in. She should be back from her work trip by then.”

Another thought crosses your mind.

“Oh shit…do we tell Izuku or Kirishima first?”

Bakugo laughs out loud. “One step at a time, baby. ‘S a problem for tomorrow.”

Who would have thought this day would come? Two years of uncertainty and waiting has finally paid off, you couldn’t be more thrilled.

A memory flashes in your head from high school from a decade ago, walking into home room at UA High for the first time with Izuku as you spot Katsuki in the far row. You waved to him as he flipped you the bird, scowl painted on his face as he grumbled in his seat.

If someone would have told you that day he’s the one you’d date after graduation, marry and have a family with, you would have said they’re fucking insane.

And maybe it was insane, but you love every minute of it.

After this, I can imagine Bakugo deep diving into everything related to pregnancy - devouring every damn educational book, building the nursery three times before he's satisfied with its style and function, spoiling you endlessly with anything you ask for, and being extremely protective of you. :)

Divider by : @/saradika

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugou #bakugo fluff #bnha smut #mha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #soft bakugo #☆.rei writes

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kiatheinsomniac · 11 months

Note

How about sleepy early morning sex with Thranduil?👁👁prettyprettyplease

──── 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I feel like it's been forever since I last write for Thranduil 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Thranduil x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.3k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, morning sex, riding, slight overstimulation, creampie.

You wake to the sensation of kisses being peppered across your cheeks as morning light pours in through the window, bathing you in a pool of liquid gold. The warmth heats your skin with the aid of your lover's body which is half draped over yours . One of his arms crosses over your body palm pressed to the soft surface of the mattress in order to prop himself up as his pillowy lips plant kisses across your face in order to rouse you from sleep.

You groan as you wake but the corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile when you realise that the first thing you feel this day is your husband’s affection. Your arms reach up to wind around his neck and thread your fingers through his gossamer hair, tugging just a little at the hair at the base of his head as you arch your back up to press your chest to his, delighting in the warm press of his skin upon yours. He begins to kiss you with more fervour now that you’re awake and you sigh against his lips as your mind begins to wake up.

You let out a little giggle when you feel him press to your thigh and your eagerness only seems to spur him on as he reaches beneath the curve of your spine to pull you on top of him when he turns onto his back. His hair fans out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo of starlight and you smile sleepily down at him.

“Good morning, meleth nîn~ (my love)” You drawl out with a little smile on your face as you lean down to pour kisses down his cheek and the slope of his jaw. His strong arms coil around your waist and you bask in the warmth of the sunlight pouring over your bed and heating your bodies as your skin presses to his. You allow yourself to simply rest atop him for a while as your nose nudges against his neck and you feel one of his hands lift up to sweep your hair from your shoulder.

“Indeed, a good morning it is…” He murmurs against the side of your head, pressing a kiss there. Beneath the sheets, your legs shift so that they bracket his hips and you slowly rise up as you set your palms down flat on his chest to support your balance. The sheet crumples and falls down your back, pooling around your hips and giving your husband quite the view considering the two of you are still bare from last night’s activities.

You let out a low groan as you slowly, sensually roll your hips against him, feeling his dick slide through the folds of your dampening pussy. His hands slide down the curves of your waist in order to land upon your hips and hold firmly, softly squeezing you. No words need to be spoken to understand what the both of you want.

Thranduil’s large hands roam up over your belly and to your chest, cupping and squeezing your soft breasts as his thumbs brush over your nipples, watching how they harden in the golden rays of light falling over you, making you look almost as though you were glowing. You continue to rock your hips against him, his dick trapped between his abdomen and your leaking pussy.

His head tips back as he sucks in a hiss through his teeth. “Come now, meleth nîn, tease me no longer.” He looks up at you through lidded eyes as one of his hands firmly grabs at the underside of your ass and helps to lift you up a little. His line of sight flickers down to his hardened cock and then back up to you, a silent command. You reach down and let out a soft moan when you glide his sensitive tip through your lips, taking a moment to feel the press and glide of it against your swollen clit before finally sinking down onto him.

You take your time to sink down to him as you feel his large hands curl around the curve of your hips. At the stretch of him, you find your hands on his abdomen curling into tight fists, scratching slightly at his alabaster skin. He seems to grow impatient with you, or perhaps he just enjoys seeing your reactions, because his hold on your hips tightens and he bottoms out up into you. A keen is torn from your lips and for a moment, you feel as though you might collapse onto him. But he’s already setting a slow and steady pace, fucking up into you and it fills you with a craving for more. With your hands still pressed to his toned abdomen in order to assist in your balance, you begin to match his pace.

It doesn’t take very long before the room is full of the squelches of your pussy being emptied and filled again and again and again, of your skin meeting his; they’re joined by his groans and your airy moans as you can nearly feel the air being punched from your lungs with just how deep he sinks into you each time. You can feel the trembling in your legs grow as all of your muscles seem to wind up tightly and sense in anticipation of your impending orgasm.

Soon enough, your body seems to flush with heat and you push your hips down with all your weight, taking all of his cock inside your fluttering walls while he grinds into your sweet spot to draw out your pleasure even longer.

You’re suddenly pushed onto your back in a tangle of limbs and you let out a noise like a wail when suddenly your sensitive, sticky walls are being pounded into as Thranduil chases his own release with your body, quickly pushing you towards the border of overstimulation. Your hands reach up to tangle in and tug at his gossamer hair and pull his body flush against yours. You feel his breath puff out against your neck just below your ear, sending shivers down your spine while your legs continue to quiver. You can hear all of his groans and grunts right by your ear as he praises you: ‘so tight’, ‘you always feel so good for me’, ‘one more, just give me one more when I fill you with my cum…’

It’s enough to quickly send your overly-sensitive body into another orgasm, your walls milking his cock as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his seed filling you up.

The two of you hold each other in the silence that follows, interrupted only by your panted breaths and the faint wet noises of Thranduil continuing to grind into you, fucking his seed deeper into you, nudging against your cervix.

“I don’t want to face the day just yet…” You let out in a sigh as you hold your husband a little tighter. All you truly wanted was to spend the day in bed with him but the two of you had a duty to your kingdom.

“Neither do I, but it must be done…” Thranduil replies with a gentle kiss to your temple as he withdraws just enough to brush some damp hair away from your face. “But we don’t have to part until we leave our chambers.” He withdraws from you at last and you feel the sticky warmth of his cum leak from your hole. He looks down at the sight and you see a masculine sort of pride flash across his face for a moment. “So let me clean you up before I send you about your day.” You giggle when he suddenly hoists you up into a princess carry and begins to walk you towards your shared bathroom.

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

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seresinhangmanjake · 6 months

Text

From Two to Four: Part 2

Single Dad!Jake Seresin x Single Mom!reader

Summary: a trip to the movie theater with your son becomes more eventful when you meet a man and manage to save his daughter’s birthday from being ruined.

warnings: none really. Probably typos.

Words: 1800

Two to Four Masterlist, Main Masterlist

---

Jake:

“Daddy?”

Olive's steps are a delicate pattering in the hallway as she calls for him. Her fist rubs the sleep from one eye, forcing a half-blinded trek to the kitchen. The other hand has her stuffed dinosaur clenched within the vice grip of her fingers.

“Yea, baby,” Jake responds as he sips his coffee at the round table in their kitchen.

When she reaches his side, she pats his arm until he scoots his chair back far enough for her to crawl onto his lap. “Daddy, today?”

Jake sighs. He should have expected that question to be the first thing out of her mouth upon seeing him. It’s the first thing that’s come out of her mouth every morning since she found Jamie, and he found you. And while Olive is always the one to speak it aloud, it’s a question Jake has asked himself plenty.

It’s been a week since the theater. A week since you shared one popcorn while your children shared the other. A week since he asked if you’d be willing to set up a playdate. But the most that has passed between you since are a handful of text messages mentioning careers, your children, and confirming your single relationship statuses.

To say he’s moved faster with women in the past is an understatement so extreme it’s laughable, but with you, he can’t bring himself to push too far. Every time he writes out the message on his phone asking the four of you to get together, he is hit with the sudden thought that there is a lot on the line. While he doesn’t know much about you, what he does know is just a little too perfect. It makes him want to know more. More than he should.

He wants to know your past and how you see your future; your likes and dislikes; what kind of mother you are–though he suspects nothing less than wonderful. He wants to know about Jamie’s father and how involved he is; if he’s good to you, offering the support and kindness you and Jamie deserve. But then, that thought invites a new concern. If the father is in your life, should Jake allow his mind to continue wandering? Should he really be thinking about the single mother with a stunning face and a laugh that had his stomach fluttering, who also has a son his daughter’s age? You might as well have a halo above your head, and he doesn’t want to let you slip through his fingers, but his pulse races when he thinks of asking you to meet again. You could very well not feel the same. There’s a high chance you haven't been thinking about him as much as he has you.

So he hasn’t called. He doesn’t want to face the rejection. But it’s affecting his daughter now, who is rapidly growing impatient.

Olive tilts her head back, doe-like eyes staring hard at the underside of his chin until he surrenders and looks down. Her bottom lip protrudes in a pout.

“You promised,” she whimpers, and Jake snorts, fully aware of her manipulative tactics. “I wanna play with Jaime.”

She rarely asks him for anything; it truly is the least he could do for her. And maybe seeing you will help him gather the courage to ask what he is desperate to know.

“Alright, baby,” Jake agrees. “Today.”

—

The second Olive’s feet hit the sand, she beelines for Jaime.

The second his own feet hit the sand, he’s searching for you.

You’re close by, keeping a dutiful eye on the children as they meet in the middle with a tight hug. Jamie slightly lifts Olive off the ground which elicits a strand of giggles that are greatly overdue. The sight is a little squeeze to Jake’s heart. He wants her smiles always present; Her eyes permanently alight.

“How are you?” is the calling question that turns his attention. You’re walking toward him, and while there is no halo, the rays of the sun accentuate your silhouette in a comparable angelic manner.

“I’m good. Great,” he corrects as your face becomes more distinguishable. Still so beautiful. “And you?”

With that wide stomach-flutter-inducing smile, you shrug. “Never better.”

Once you’ve established beach rules and received speedy agreements, you both take a seat in the sand, maintaining a view of your children while staying far enough away to give them space to exercise their imaginations. Which they do to the utmost degree. With each game of tag played, the chaser transforms into a new ferocious creature—larger than the one before—until Jamie finds himself running from a mammoth with lollipops for tusks and a blue bow tied around its trunk. Ferocious indeed.

“It’s so easy for them,” you say. “They just slip right into it.”

Jake’s eyes meet the profile of your face as you stare at your kids in longing-like wonder.

“I never had that. Not really.” You finally look at him. “Not even with Jamie’s father.”

Were there sadness in your soft gaze, Jake wouldn’t perk up the way he does at the mention of the man he can’t avoid thinking about wherever he thinks of you. A man he’s assumed he might never hear the details of. While Jake isn't one to conceal the pieces of his past, it’s impossible to say—with such little known about you—if you approach the topic similarly. To Jake, the past is what made him who he is; good, bad, ugly. The past, however difficult, gave him his daughter, and he doesn’t refrain from speaking about that time simply because he is not ashamed of it.

Praying he’s not about to cross an unforgivable line, Jake cautiously says, “Would you tell me about him? If you’re comfortable.”

You blow out a long breath. A beat passes before you nod. “He’s not around,” you say, and Jake is met with a shameful pang of relief. “And left before Jamie was born.”

“Does he know?”

“Yes,” you reply. “But he changed the moment I told him. Grew angrier with each day. Started blaming me for not having taken precautions—like he was such a prize and I was trying to keep others from having a chance to claim him for themselves.” Your brow pinches and your toes dig into the sand as if to keep you grounded. “When I was seven months along, he met some girl at a New Year’s Eve party I was too exhausted to attend, and a month later he broke up with me to move to the other side of the country with her. I think they’re married now,” you say. “And I doubt she ever knew about me or Jamie.”

Jake’s silent as he takes it all in, thankful for what you were willing to share of your story, though there is likely more you’re not quite ready to divulge. Even so, the thought of you being abandoned at eight months pregnant is enough to simultaneously churn his stomach and invite a red hue to seep into the circumference of his vision.

You’re strong, he thinks. Stronger than many. Stronger than the man who tossed you and your son away.

You interrupt his thoughts with a question of your own. “Do you mind if I ask the same?”

Unafraid to tell his story, and eager to hopefully tighten the budding connection between you, Jake doesn’t hesitate to begin. “She’s not around, either,” he says. “And I have no idea where she is.”

From that answer alone, he notices your shoulders relax.

A shriek comes from ahead and Jake pauses to confirm it's of playfulness before continuing. “She never wanted Olive. I hate saying that, but she was honest from the beginning, and I thought I felt the same until the due date got close.”

With much of your attention given to him—the rest, of course, reserved for the children—his confidence grows.

“Somehow, it took almost nine months for the word ‘adoption’ to leave either of our mouths, though we both knew that was the path we were choosing. But hearing it—something happened to me.” Jake runs his fingers through his hair, recalling the immediate shift in his heart; remembering the relentless image plaguing his mind of a coin balanced on its narrow edge, able to land on either side. “I became unsettled, when before I was so sure. And it kept me up nearly every night until Olive came.

“When she finally did, I took one look at her and knew she was mine. More than mine by blood, but my daughter,” he says. “Her mother was pissed. Said she didn’t want me coming after her to demand she take responsibility down the line, but I swore I wouldn’t and I haven’t seen her since. I took Olive home to a house entirely unprepared for a baby, and that was it.”

Just as he had, you soak it all in. “Do you think she will ever come back?” You ask.

Purely out of respect for his daughter, Jake thinks about his answer for more than a half-second. No one has ever asked him that before. He hasn’t ever asked it himself. Because he already knows the truth.

He shakes his head and replies, “No. She’s not the type.”

With a nod, you say, “Neither will Jamie’s father. Not that I want him to. Jamie doesn’t know him and, for now, doesn’t seem to be missing that figure.” You pull your legs to your chest, wrap your arms around them, and settle your chin atop your knees. “But I fear the day I’m no longer enough for him. His friends will talk about their fathers, they’ll ask about his, and what will he say?”

Jake has been neglecting the very same worry for years. He’ll have a teenage girl one day. There are things she won’t want to talk to him about; things he isn’t sure how to comfortably explain.

But Jake doesn’t say that, though he should. Instead, he goes with what feels slightly more important at the moment—validation.

“You’re enough,” he says. “More than enough.”

In the silence that follows, you simply watch one another. Examining; deciphering; appreciating. And he could’ve stayed that way, but parental duties come first.

“Daddy!” Olive suddenly calls in tune with Jamie’s, “Mommy!”

You both break the held stare to greet the smiling faces of your children. Their hands alternate between burrowing into the ground for wet sand and dumping handfuls of softer grains over a mound of unidentifiable shape.

“Lookit! We are building our new house,” Olive yells, her arms spread wide with pride after smacking a chunk of damp sand onto the side of their sculpture.

Jaime nods with enough vigor to strain his neck.

“It’s perfect,” you say.

“You really like it?”

“We love it,” Jake confirms.

The four-year-olds share a triumphant grin before Jaime decidedly declares, “That’s good! All of us are moving in tomorrow!”

---

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @abaker74 @dizzybee03 @alana4610 @thewitchesofart

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #tgm fic #tgm #jake seresin fluff #dad!jake seresin x reader #singledad!jake seresin

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ham-st4r · 1 year

Text

𝑹𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒑 𝒑𝒕𝟑 - 𝑳. 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈

🝮pairing: heeseung + female reader!

🝮Warnings: smut, pet names, unprotected sex, bathtub sex, oral male receiving, cockwarming, mommy kink instead of daddy kink please don’t hate me, cream pie, throat pie, praise kink ish, switch heeseung.

🝮Genre: best friends, smut, 18+, read at your own discretion.

🝮Summary: two weeks was a lot of time, and you weren’t going to let a second of it go to waste and what better way to start your day than with morning sex with your best friend?

🝮Number of words: 2,6..something idk I’ll have to update it later 🤣

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.4 (I recommend reading the previous parts but it’s not necessary)

Find your way around!

Tomorrow rolled around, and you awakened to a faint ray of sunlight beaming through the white curtains.

Once your eyes adjusted, you turned to your side to see heeseung sleeping next to you soundly with his arm around your bare waist.

You smiled at the sound of his gentle breaths and the look of his messy blonde hair.

You looked past him at the clock, and it was past 8 in the morning. You didn’t have to be ready for the beach until 10, so that gave you more than enough time to execute your naughty plan.

You scooted closer to heeseung’s body, stroking his cheek softly. He stirred a bit, and a few seconds later, his eyes fluttered open. “Hey,” he says groggily with a half smile and squeezes your waist gently.

“Hey,” you whisper and lower your head to place multiple pecks all over his chest.

“That tickles,” he giggled from the feeling as you continued to place a thousand more kisses on his upper body.

You went under the covers and trailed your kisses down his stomach and then to his abdomen.

Heeseung’s eyelids fluttered shut from the pleasuring sensation of your soft lips kissing his skin.

You placed one teasing kiss on his base, smiling to yourself as you heard his soft little moan.

You kissed each of his thighs while your hands massaged his chest.

He bit his lip softly and placed his hands behind his head, relaxing and letting you do whatever you pleased.

Your fingers skimmed over his nipples earning another quiet moan from him.

His breath hitched in his throat when you wrapped your warm palm around his base and stroked him to full hardness. “Fuck” his quiet curse fades into the morning air and gets replaced with a string of delicate moans as you swirl your tongue over his tip lightly.

You lap at his slit, collecting his sticky precum on your tongue, humming at his salty yet sweet essence hitting your taste buds.

“M-mommy,” he whines impatiently while squirming beneath you. All your teasing was making it hard for him to stay still.

You stopped momentarily when he called you that, and you thought you misheard what he said until he said it again. “Mommy, please,” he whined and pulled the covers back so he could see you.

You saw the slight pout on his lips and the desperation in his eyes that were far too big and bright for it to be this early in the morning, and you melted.

You never thought you’d like being called by that, but something about the way he said it made you feel something indescribable, but whatever you were feeling definitely wasn’t bad. “I’ll be a good boy for you, I promise. Please, please, just…” you looked up at him briefly as you placed more kisses on his thighs.

“Please, what, baby boy?” You started stroking his length up and down while flattening your tongue on the underside of his tip.

“Suck me off,” Even though you had just started, he already sounded so breathless and needy. “Please”

“Of course, baby, just lay there and look pretty for Mommy” You kissed his tip and enveloped his cock immediately.

His mouth parted open in a gasp as soon as he felt the warmth of your mouth covering his hard, aching length. “Fuck me,” he breathed out.

He trained his eyes on you, watching as you bobbed your head up and down. You caressed his thick base while tightly wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking on his extremely sensitive cock head.

He let out a shaky breath, and if you kept that up, he was going to cum embarrassingly quick. “Mommy,” he tried to warn you, but it was too late. His high snuck up on him too quickly, and he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to.

You could already feel him twitching in your palm, and to your surprise, only a few seconds later, you felt his thick milky cum pooling on your tongue.

“Fuck, Mommy,” he mewled as he came in your mouth. You moaned around his throbbing length as you looked up and saw him clawing at the bed sheets and biting down on his bottom.

You cupped his balls in your hand, gently tugging on the delicate flesh as you completely drained them of everything.

He came so much that it dribbled past your lips and down his throbbing shaft. You sucked him through his high, swallowing his whole length down your throat as his cum stains the corners of your lips. “T-too much,” he whines, and that’s when you finally pulled off of him and licked his entire groin area clean as soft whimpers, and moans fell from his red bitten lips.

You climbed on top of him once your work was finished, and you attached your lips to his kissing him softly. He moaned when he could faintly taste the aftermath of his orgasm on your tongue as his arms encircled your waist, bringing you closer to his chest to deepen the kiss.

Once you both parted for air, he apologized. “Sorry,” he said, out of breath, and rested his forehead against yours.

“For what?” You ask as you busy yourself with kissing his exposed collarbone and neck.

“I came too quick,” he said in a tiny voice, and you could almost sense his guilt by the sad look on his face. “And I didn’t even please you,” he mumbled.

“You have no idea just how pleased I am” You kissed the tip of his nose and smiled to assure him that it was okay, but he just looked at you skeptically. “But if you’re still unsure, you can always make it up to me in the shower, pretty boy,” you say suggestively and climbed out of bed.

He got out of bed after you and trailed right behind you like a lost puppy as you gathered your stuff and went to the bathroom.

He didn’t even close the door before his hands were on your hips. He pressed himself up against you and began kissing your neck sloppily. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers and nibbles softly on your earlobe before turning on the water and running a bath for you both.

He stepped in first and reached his hand out for you to take and get in after him. He lowered his body in the tub while slightly tugging you down until you were sitting directly on his lap.

You rested your hands on his shoulders while he placed his on your waist and caressed your sides delicately. “Kiss me,” he said while smiling and looking at your lips.

“Magic word,” you teased.

“Pleas- mmph” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his before he could even finish.

He moaned into the kiss and lowered his hands, gripping your ass and squeezing the plump flesh in his large palms.

You were still wet and insanely turned on from sucking him off earlier in the morning, and you impatiently rocked your hips, rubbing your wet entrance all over his crotch.

He opened his mouth wider and tilted his head to the side, tangling his tongue with yours as he guided your hips back and forth on his growing bulge.

After tasting every inch of your hot mouth, he dragged his swollen lips down your neck kissing and sucking on your skin. “Does it feel good, mommy?” He whispered on your skin, and your body shuddered at his desperate tone.

You moaned in response, but evidently, he needed verbal confirmation. “Tell me I’m doing good, Mommy” he started sucking harshly on your neck, and you pushed him away gently.

“Not there, baby,” you say breathlessly as you look at him with your eyelids heavy with lust and your chest glistening from the water that had wet your skin.

“Why?” He whines and leans forward, trying to suck on your neck again, but you push him back by his shoulders.

“Baby, you want to be good for me, right?” He nodded his head as his hands eagerly roamed your body, almost like he was just waiting for you to tell him what you wanted so he could deliver. “Then don’t leave any marks for the others to see.”

“But-“ he tried to object, but you shushed him with your finger. “Okay,” he quickly gave in but not willingly.

“Gonna be a good boy now?” He nodded enthusiastically. “I know you will, baby,” you pecked his lips softly. “can you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” he whispers to you, and you can’t help but smile at how obedient he is.

“Stick two fingers inside your mommy, baby” You didn’t need to tell him twice. He slipped his hand between your wet bodies and stuffed his thick fingers in your slick hole with ease.

You gasped at the intrusion and guided his face to your chest, letting him suck on your nipples as he fingers your heat. “There you go, my sweet prince, just like that,” he whined against your skin at the praise and curled his fingers inside you hitting your sweet spot perfectly. “Such a good boy” You kissed his temple and ran your fingers through his damp hair.

He pulled away from your nipple just long enough to whisper. “Your good boy,” before going back to sucking your sensitive nub.

He pressed his thumb on your clit, making your body jolt in pleasure. “Hee,” you release a shaky breath as you roll your hips and fucked yourself on his long digits.

He hummed against your skin moving to the right side of your chest and swirling his tongue around your right nipple. “Keep going, baby,” you moan as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

He squeezed the flesh of your ass and brushed his fingers against your spot over and over. You bit your lower lip as the knot in your stomach snapped. You felt jolts of pleasure surging throughout your trembling body. “My good boy,” you rotated your hips slowly while he pumped his fingers in and out of you to bring you down from your high.

He slowly pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips, sucking your sweet nectar from his digits.

His cock twitching beneath you did not go unnoticed, and since he was so good to you, you weren’t going to leave him unsatisfied. “Since you were so good for Mommy, how about a reward? Hmm?” You trailed your index finger over his pecs.

He gulped down your essence, getting lost in the taste of you. “Wanna feel you, Mommy” he grabbed your breasts and began kneading on the plushy flesh. “Can I?” He looked at you with his big innocent eyes waiting for your permission.

You bit your lip feeling his large hands massaging your breasts while you gripped his base and pressed his thick cock head to your dripping hole. “What baby boy wants, baby boy gets,” you sunk down on his length slowly, making you both gasp from the new sensation.

“Thank you, Mommy” His head fell back, and his brows were creased together as he felt your velvety walls encasing his hard length.

You stared down at him with your lip still caught between your teeth as you held his forearms for support to ride his dick.

His toes curled once he was balls deep inside you. Each time you came down on his cock, soft pants fell from his lips, along with little whines of pleasure.

You placed your hand on his throat, adding slight pressure while riding him. You’re not even sure where that came from, but when he tilted his head back, and his neck was on full display, you couldn’t help it. Plus, he looked so submissive under you, and you loved hearing his choked moans as he looked at you with his wide, shimmering eyes.

“M-mommy, I’m already so close” he moved his hand to your clit, rolling the delicate pearl between his fingertips.

“Me too, you feel so good, baby boy” You picked up your pace, putting your hands on his shoulders, and his whines got increasingly louder as water splashed out of the tub and onto the floor each time your ass collided with his trembling thighs.

“K-kiss,” he stuttered out, you reduced the pressure on his neck while leaning down and kissing him.

You could feel his body shaking under you, a telltale sign that he was close, and you encouraged him to let go. “Come on, baby boy, be good and cum inside your mommy,” you moaned when you felt his dick go rigid as he spilled his seed inside of you.

The warmth of his cum filling you up and the tight circles he drew on your clit sent you over the edge with him, and you came crashing down around his thick pulsating length. “Mommy,” he whined into the kiss, letting you devour his mouth however you pleased. His mind was fuzzy, and he was too fucked out to even reciprocate the kiss.

His grip on your hip loosened, and his jaw went slack as you licked every corner of his mouth. “My good little boy” you praised him and brought him closer to your body as you sucked on his tongue. His dick twitched from the feeling, and he mindlessly rutted his hips into you, stuffing his thick cum back inside your spent cunt.

He tiredly stroked your walls and wrapped his arms around you. He was panting into the kiss, and you pulled back to give him a breather. He buried his head in your chest as his high slowly dissipated. “Mommy,” he cried out and nuzzled his face in your neck, tightening his grip on you while he caught his breath.

You cooed at his cuteness and kissed the top of his head. “You did so good,” you praised him.

He hummed against your skin and kissed all over your chest.

You were about to get up, but before you could even move an inch, he was holding you closer to his chest with his cock still nestled deep inside you. “Stay”

And who were you to say no?

“Okay,” you whisper softly, grabbing the shampoo off the corner of the tub, and squeezing the liquid in your palm. You ran your fingers through his hair, lathering the soap in his wet strands and massaging his scalp.

He lifted his head off your chest and looked up at you with an adorable tired smile on his face. “You’re so cute,” you chuckled and leaned down to kiss him again.

He giggled and blushed as he accepted your kiss before grabbing the shampoo and washing your hair.

He was less than an inch from your lips, and just before they could collide once again, a loud bang was heard on your door, causing both of you to jump in surprise.

“Y/n! Heeseung! it’s time to go,” you heard jays loud voice outside your room door.

Had it really gotten that late already? You thought.

You rested your forehead against heeseung’s, and sighed. “I don’t wanna go,” he whined. “I wanna stay here with you.”

“Me too, baby” You grabbed his cheeks and pecked his lips. “But we didn’t drive all these hours just to stay in all day.” you reasoned with him.

“Okay, but can we just stay like this for a few more minutes,” he asked while grabbing the body wash and massaging it over your chest and shoulders.

“Of course, baby,” you both giggled quietly when you heard more loud banging on the door. “They can wait” you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah, they can,” heeseung said cheekily and leaned up to give you a kiss.

Even though you just had him, you couldn’t wait to feel him again, and you’re afraid that you might not be able to keep your hands off him, but who knows, you’ll just have to find out once you get to the beach.

FIN.

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback! - 🐹

#heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #smut

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watermelonsugacry · 9 months

Note

Y/n applying lotion on his torso..!

It would be last minute..and he would run to her and be like

‘Be quick’

NO BC THIS IS THE DOMESTIC SHIT THAT GOES ON ALL THE TIME WHEN THEY'RE ON TOUR TOGETHER

Ever since the couple has arrived to their hotel room, YN has been bugging him about applying sunscreen to his torso. Especially now more than ever since he chooses to basically go topless on stage (she'll never complain about that) while playing in an outdoor venue in Barcelona.

The first time she brought it up was in their hotel bathroom. Harry, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, was busy untangling the necklaces around his neck when his wife comes into the room. She holds the bottle out to him with a suggestive tone and a raise of her brow.

He stands frozen for a second, eyeing the sunscreen with a contemplative hum before decidedly shaking his head.

"M'good, baby. Thank you."

She narrows her gaze at him, flickering her eyes from the bottle to her husband, before saying, "M'gonna bring it anyways."

YN turns on her heel but before she can fully leave the room, he reaches over and smacks the underside of her bum just to hear her squeak. He chuckles to himself when he sees her hand peek back into the room to show her middle finger at him.

The next time she brings up the sunscreen, is when he's doing a sound check later that day.

She watches from the sidelines, perched on top of an equipment box as she sits in on Harry and the Love Band rehearse before the show tonight. The yellow sunnies sitting on her face help block some of the glare from the bruiting sun reflecting from the massive stage. Everyone has the same idea along with shorts and some type of short sleeve top for their attire.

As much as YN loves to watch Harry in a white tank top, black Ray Bands, and a clip securing his curls on the top of his head, she wants nothing more than to sooth his tan skin with a protective layer of SPF.

While Harry talks some things over with Pauli and the horns ensemble, YN perks up when Sarah waves her over.

Harry's eyes flick over to his wife up on the platform with his drummer, helping apply lotion to the top of Sarah's back before going back to his conversation.

Soon enough, YN's offering sunscreen help to the rest of the band like a mom at a soccer game. Even Mitch rubs some over his arms while YN dollops a blob on his nose. Everyone happily accepts her offer...well, almost everyone.

When the band rehearses Grapejuice, Harry waltz up to where his wife sits as he sings, "There's never been someone else so perfect for me."

When she waggles the bottle in his face, he gives her a cheeky smile, playfully grabbing and tossing the bottle to the side. Before she can even get one word out in protest, he tugs her off her seat and pulls her in close as he sings.

She tries to pull away as he brings them to the middle of the stage, but his grip on her is strong.

His high notes go wobbly as he giggles, watching as YN gives up her efforts to escape. Eventually, she succumbs to his swaying and lopsided smile and slow dances with her husband for the rest of the song.

The last time she brings up the sunscreen is in his dressing room. And this time around, she doesn't ask.

Harry is already dressed for the stage and was busy tying his shoe laces when his wife's heels come into view. Not even a second later, so does that damn sunscreen bottle.

"Put it on."

"M'fine. I don't need it." Harry tries to reason. "It's gonna be night time when I'm performing out there anyways."

He holds back the temptation to smile at her stubborn look but he knows that'll only make her frustrated. But given that the cute pinch in her brow is already there, he guesses there's no point in trying to hide his smirk.

Plus, it's really hard to not already have a pleased expression at the sight of her in a silk blue dress that was only waiting to be taken off of her body by the end of the night.

"I don't care. Put on the fookin' lotion."

"No."

"Your chest has been red since the last show."

"You look beautiful."

"You're getting sunburned!"

"No m'not."

Before he can get another out, YN presses the pad of her index finger into the a spot by the one of the shallows tattooed on his chest and he hisses at the sting from his inflamed skin. He bats her hand away and notices how the yellow imprint from her finger slowly fades back to red. Despite the clear indication that she's right, he still doesn't say anything.

Even married, he can't let go of his pride to being wrong to his love. He's denied her of her help all day that it would only embarrass him and make him look bad if he gives in now.

Knowing this herself, YN tucks her lips in with a shrug. She places the bottle on the vanity and decides to leave the matter alone. She tried, and if he needs to have aloe vera be applied to his skin when it begins to peel, well, he could do that himself.

Despite how frustrated, irritated or upset the two might be at each other before a show, they're never ones of break their traditional pre-show ritual.

She cups his face and presses a short kiss to her husband's lips.

"Have fun out there. You're gonna do great. I love you."

His mouth opens to say something, anything, as she turns to walk out the room, but no words come out. Instead, he's left to finish getting ready with the icky feeling of guilt settling in and that damn bottle staring back at him.

Before the show starts, YN and her manager, Jenny, walk backstage to get to their designated spot in the pit for family and friends. She turns her head to the sound of feet hitting the pavement and a call of her name.

She furrows her brows when she sees Jeff and her husband running up to her, his cropped blue vest in hand instead of on his torso.

"What's wrong? Everything alright?" YN's voice is laced with concern given that he's supposed to be moments away from being on stage.

"Be quick." He pants out of breath. She's confused for a moment at what he could possibly mean. It's when she looks at what he's shoved in her hand that it finally clicks. She's quickly popping the cap off the bottle and squirting some lotion in the palm of her hand. After handing the sunscreen to her manager, she rubs her hands together before lathering up his torso, his abs, his chest--anywhere she can cover.

"Aw did you have to put on a little sunny-screen because your mummy told you to?" Jeff teases in a baby voice before breaking out in a laugh, only to receive a slap on the arm from Jenny.

YN doesn't even hit him back with a witty comment. Too smug, smiley and occupied with smoothing the lotion over her husband's broad shoulders and down his arms to care. So much so, that she doesn't even notice when Lloyd takes a few quick pictures of the couple before running off to take his place on stage.

She rubs the remaining bits of lotion over the apples of his cheeks, his t-zone, and his nose before taking hold of his face to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

"Okay, yeh all set."

He shakes his head at the smugness written all over her beautiful features. It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone how he always folds for her in the end, no matter how strong headed both of them are.

"You're lucky I love you."

"Please, you're the lucky one."

"Damn right I am," He grins at her giggle as he pulls her back in for another kiss. Too enthroned and stupidly in love with this woman, he doesn't think twice about cupping her cheek with one hand while his arm circles around her waist, deepening what was supposed to be a short and sweet kiss.

"Um, H?" Jeff calls after a moment. "You got a show to do, remember?"

"Mhm, yeah." Harry mumbles out of the corner of his mouth to not completely break the kiss, fully enclosing himself around his wife while her arms go around his neck. "Be there in a sec."

Jenny's back is the the couple, her hands clasped together as she looks up at the ceiling to give them their privacy. She already knows that its best to just let them be than trying to break them apart; for Harry's shows anyway. But when it comes for her singer, she's hustling YN to be on stage, ready to perform, and on time.

Jeff on the other hand is looking down the empty hallway, anxiously looking at the watch on his wrist before scratching at his brow. He spares a glance at the two with a pained expression.

"You Love Birds need to go on a second honeymoon or some something, you horny fucks."

"Way ahead of you, Jeffery."

Harry give a lopsided grin at YN's words, pressing another smearing kiss to her lips. The two weeks they used for their honeymoon back in January was barely enough time for anything before having to go back on their respected world tours. With both of their show numbers decreasing by the week, the married couple plans to go MIA for a very long time: drinking wine at their private villa in Italy, walking along the shore at their getaway beach house in Malibu, tangled under the sheets in their bedroom in France.

From their spot backstage, they can hear the field full of fans begin to scream in excitement as the intro video plays. Desperate, Jeff turns to the wife for some complacency. "Mrs. Styles? Unless you want your husband to be out of a job in the next 60 seconds?"

YN pulls away with a smile, biting her lip as her husband looks down at her like he's one kiss away from canceling the show.

"Think of me when you're out there." She closes her eyes when he bumps their foreheads together, nearly melting when he rubs their noses together; a soft and loving gesture despite the dirty thoughts swimming in his head.

"Always." Harry answers easily, bringing her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the rock on her finger.

With a new sense of spunk and pump to be on stage, Harry throws a sly wink to his wife before maneuvering around her and walks towards the stage. YN's eyes linger on his back muscles as he lifts his arms in the air, looping them through the arm holes in his cropped vest.

His words are cheeky and light as he says over his shoulder, "You coming, Jeffery?"

SINCE 2010 masterlist

taglist:

@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee @harianaswhore @gxbiqs @mvaldez7821 @yourfavplayboybunny @drewrry @thurhomish @roseke @majasophieanna @lilfreakjez @rach2699 @renatavieira

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merbear25 · 12 days

Note

hello dear can I request promp 14 with Law? fem! reader and nsfw, thank you 😘

Hello, lovely! I realized the other day that I hadn't written for Law in quite awhile, so I was excited to get back into it! I hope you enjoy what I came up with 💜💜

Caught in the act

CW: NSFW!! MDNI!! fem!reader, male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal penetration, cream pie, light choking and hairpulling

Ever since joining the Heart Pirates, Law took a strong liking to you. Sure, you'd proven yourself long before officially joining them, but once apart of the crew, it seemed like you truly allowed your personality to shine―and those rays were something he could lose track of time basking in.

The more he came to know you, the more he yearned from you. Upon coming to this realization, he pulled back from interacting with you in hopes of smothering the growing flames of desire the best he could. However, they'd grown out of control and were rapidly engulfing him.

Having suppressed his feelings for you for far too long, he was now at his breaking point. The way you swayed your hips, the face you made when you concentrated, the sound of your laugh: each of these swarmed his thoughts, leaving him to relish in his deepest and most private fantasies. Each night presented itself as a testiment to his self-control, of which was an uphill battle.

That night was full of bonding: exchanging stories, laughs, and some secrets. The nonchalant nature of trading secrets struck fear in Law―the fear of being asked and potentially blurting out the one that was in the forefront of his mind. Excusing himself, he made a beeline for his bedroom.

His urges were growing stronger, making them damn near impossible to neglect anymore. Sitting in his room, he contemplated whether or not to surrender to desire. Thinking of how disrespectful it would be to touch himself as you exchanged stories with the others just down the hall made him sick. He felt as if he'd been reduced to a pathetic pervert with no sense of restraint. God, but your charm was far too alluring.

The growing lust under his pants was becoming more and more difficult to ignore. Unzipping his jeans and letting his arousal spring free, he hesitated. Thinking how he'd be able to get the job done more quickly, he reached for a photo of you he kept in the drawer of his bedside table. You looked stunning that day.

Peering down at the picture, he began rutting in his open palm. The delicate smile on your face, the beauty held in your poise, such memories flooded his mind as he inched closer and closer to the edge.

Lost in his fantasies, he didn't hear you calling for him. It was only when he heard a gasp that he noticed your presence.

Being quick to cover himself, he immediately made up an excuse, "It's not what it looks like!"

"Is that my picture?" You shrieked, unable to contain how appalled you were.

"Stop shouting!" He hushed, his face burning with the intensity that could melt the surroundings.

Your utter shock aside, you couldn't help but notice how well-endowed he was. Confliction of the current situation had you torn: should you let this moment damper your relationship with him or take this as an opportunity to explore other avenues?

You could never deny the attraction you had towards Law, making the latter an easy option to pursue. Stepping forward, you held a neediness in your eyes.

His posture became rigid as you came closer. In spite of the obvious sultry look you were giving him, his nerves were persistent.

"I could help you with that, you know."

Glancing down at his still stiffened member, he gripped the side of the bed as he nodded for you to assist him.

Easing yourself between his legs, you treated him to the wonderland which was your mouth. Licking the underside of his eagerness, you trailed your tongue up to the tip before taking as much of him as you could.

The swirling of your tongue and sucking motion made your mouth all too tempting. Placing his hand on the top of your head, he timidly grabbed your hair, giving you unspoken approval.

"Wait."

Looking up at him, your first thought was that he wasn't enjoying it.

"I want to feel all of you," he admitted, gently leading you up from the floor and guiding you on your back. Watching you get into position, he tugged his clothes off before moving ontop of you.

Planting a firm kiss on your lips, the both of you could feel each fiber of your beings searing as you dived deeper into the pools of euphoria.

Promptly removing your bottoms and discarding them along with your panties across the room, he aligned his reddened tip with your weeping slit. The hunger in his eyes were mirrored in yours.

Easing into you, finally being able to indulge in your warmth made something in him snap. Gripping your hips, he swiftly went into deep and forceful thrusts. Not wanting to hold back any longer, the sweet mewls of pleasure passing over your lovely lips were just the encouragement he needed.

Seeing you unravel on him, he couldn't resist wrapping his fingers around your delicate throat. The intensity in your moans grew more desperate, making him tighten his grip a bit.

You were making quite the spectacle of yourself with each surge of pleasure coursing through you. As you moved in complete harmony, he blanketed your body with his, pressing your twitching form firmly against him.

With the increasing force of his cock bullying its way deeper inside, your fingers tangled themselves in his dark locks and tugged at them. Earning yourself a deep growl from Law, he only dialed up the urgency: keeping a firm grip around your throat and bucking more harshly.

Being assaulted by the animalistic need for each other, you were overcome with shockwaves signaling throughout your bodies, which led to an electrifying peak to that night's events. The rush of him filling you with each drop of white lust sent you into a frenzy, causing your body to cling to him as you rode out this madness.

Panting from the lingering waves pulsing through you, he peered down at your spent form. His once lustful gaze now replaced by affection and tenderness.

Cupping the side of your face, he stroked your cheek before placing a loving peck on your forehead. You both wished you could stay like this forever, wrapped in each other's embrace.

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graves4girls · 7 months

Text

☆ my love mine all mine | johnny cage

✮ wc. 1.09k ⚠︎ warning(s): fem!reader needed some soft johnny so this is completely self-indulgent ⟡ be sure to check out my work on ao3 → gravesforgirls !!

You enjoyed the quiet moments between the flirty quips and cocky remarks, ones where the only sounds are the candle flames flickering around the bathtub, painting the room in a warm sunset of oranges and yellows, or the crashing waves in the early hours of the morning, cold air whipping through your hair and seagulls crooning overhead as you walk along the rocky coast.

His head is resting on your chest, cheek smooshed over your heart with an arm lazily tossed across your stomach, his other arm tucked underneath his pillow. He's got a leg tangled around your own, soft snores slipping past his parted lips.

You wake first, the arm draped over his back twitching as the warm sun cuts through the curtains and falls over your face, and before you can realize he's trapped you against the mattress, you attempt to roll onto your side. It's futile, his heavy limbs pinning you exactly where you lay, a sleepy mumble protesting your effort to pull away. You slowly peel your eyes open, gaze falling to your prisoner when your pupils adjust to the bright room, and you gently card your fingers through his hair, your other hand crawling over his arm to settle over his strong bicep, fingertips carefully feeling along the taut muscle as you listen to his slow breaths. It's refreshing, moment's like this, where everything seems to be still, almost stuck in time with how serene it all feels.

His hand curls under your waist, striving to pull you closer as he scoots into you, tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose against the underside of your jaw, the quiet hum of his snores halting for a moment, and you think for a tick that he'd woken up, but he only sniffles, and his lips part once more, hushed breaths spilling out. Your hand tucks itself into the nook where his shoulder meets his trapezius, eyelids falling shut as you drink up the cozy rays of sun folding over the covers and leaking onto the exposed skin along your arm.

He stirs a while later, wedging his hand out from beneath you to stretch his arm out, a soft groan reaching your ears as he strains the tight muscles. He takes his time untucking his face from the comfy spot in your neck, humming when you slide your hand over his shoulder, tracing over the dusting of freckles spattered on his bare skin like paint flicked onto a canvas, completely mindless and messy, yet still gorgeous, even in it's chaos.

The tip of his nose prods into the fat of your cheek when he presses a feather-light kiss to your jaw bone, eyelids still anchored with sleep as he mutters into your skin, big hand smoothing over your stomach atop the duvet. "Morning." His voice is coated thick with his lingering exhaustion, gravelly and deep as it rumbles in his chest.

"Morning," you parrot, short nails stroking over his shoulder blade as you tip your head down to look at him.

He offers you a sweet little smile, his cheeks flushed the softest shade of red from the warm nest of blankets that heats him up, eyes dancing across your delicate features for an instant before they settle back on your own gaze. He brings his hand up to nudge your chin toward him, sticking a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth, another to your cheek, one to the tip of your nose, until he's littering your entire face in light kisses, pulling hushed giggles from your throat as the hand holding his bicep comes up to try and push him away. His hand slides down to the back of your neck when he presses a sweeter kiss to your lips, and you relax against him, flattening your palm over his chest as his lips move carefully against your own, his slow movements still tethered to the tempting bliss of sleep.

You loved when he was sleepy like this. He's always clingy and mushy when he first wakes up, griping when you slip out from his grasp to start your day. He'll lay in bed and whine as he watches you shuffle about the room, begging you to come back and cuddle up in the warm covers with him, and he pouts when you shoot him down. He tries to pull you down when you drop one more kiss to his lips before you leave the room, but you know his routine by now, so it's not a very effective tactic.

"Do we have anything planned for today?" He hums when he finally pries himself from your lips, propped up on his elbow as he looks down at you, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

"Not that I can think of."

You can see his eyes practically light up at your words, and his fingers brush some hair away from your face as he grins down at you. "You mean I get you all to myself all day? I'm not still dreaming, am I?"

You roll your eyes with a soft chuckle. "You're so unbelievably corny." Your hand slips out from around his neck, slicking back the messy strands of hair that frame his face, and you shift your body to better face him.

"And yet, you still married me. What does that say about you, hm?" He garnishes the taunt with a raised hand, presenting the silver band to you, as if it were the first time you were ever seeing it, that stupid smug grin plastered to his face.

"That I love to torture myself."

His hand falls to lay over your ribs as he leans in to steal another long kiss, a low hum vibrating in his chest when your hand cradles his jaw, thumbing over his cheekbone as he chuckles. "Yeah, you must hate me."

You nestle your head into his chest when he snakes both arms around you, enveloping you in his body heat and just a twinge of the cologne lingering on his skin, and your arms curl around his waist to keep him pressed against you, not that he'd ever try to part from you in the first place. One of his hands caresses the crown of your head, lazily petting down your hair as you breathe out a long, tired sigh, eyelids falling shut as your body threatens to slip back into unconsciousness, the other hand running up and down the side of your waist and over your hip to lull you further into that ever-so enticing sleep.

#j.cage #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk #mk1

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