#I’m surprised i did not notice until now

[pucksandpower]

I’m Not Jealous!

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of how your boyfriend and his teammate are eye-fucking each other … nope

Note: thank you to the brilliant @struggling-with-drivers for this amazing idea, I love you so much ❤️

You can’t take your eyes off Lando and Oscar as they chat animatedly in the McLaren motorhome after qualifying. The way they lean towards each other, the spark of energy crackling between them, the bright gleam in their eyes — it makes your chest tighten with a strange jealousy.

They’re so wrapped up in their conversation, casually touching each other’s arms for emphasis, that they don’t even notice you approaching. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Oh, hey babe!” Lando glances up with a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the session, and you know how much he lives for these intense post-qualifying debriefs with his teammate.

Oscar throws you an acknowledging nod but doesn’t break his intense eye contact with Lando. “We were just going over the data from ...”

You cut him off with an impatient wave of your hand. “I don’t care about the data. Can I talk to my boyfriend for two seconds?”

Lando blinks in surprise at your curt tone but recovers quickly with a teasing grin. “Someone’s feeling jealous.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side with a gentle squeeze.

You stiffen, hating how easily he can read you sometimes. “I am not jealous.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Lando rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Then why are you pouting like a petulant child?”

“I’m not pouting!” You protest, very much aware that your lower lip has surged into an exaggerated protrusion. You shoot Oscar a venomous glare when he fails to stifle a snort of laughter.

Lando laughs too, that bright, infectious giggle that somehow simultaneously melts and irritates you. “Aww, baby, you don’t have to be jealous of Oscar. We both have girlfriends, remember? You’re my one and only.”

He kisses your cheek with an audible smacking sound, as if to emphasize his point. But the reassurance doesn’t land — if anything, it makes you more prickly.

“Doesn’t feel like it when you two are constantly eye-fucking each other,” you grumble petulantly.

Lando blinks, his smile faltering briefly into an almost comically exaggerated expression of surprise. Then he exchanges a loaded glance with Oscar, the two of them breaking into wide grins.

“What?” You demand, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and irritation. Did you really just say that out loud?

“Nothing, nothing,” Lando says quickly, still grinning wolfishly. “It’s just … eye-fucking, huh? Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“Well it certainly looks like it!” You retort, frantically trying to backpedal. “With all the intense staring and lingering touches and private jokes ...”

Lando’s grin stretches even wider, if that’s possible. “You’re just jealous because you want my undivided attention, aren’t you?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized by his blunt words despite how accurate they are. “I … no!”

The protest rings pathetically hollow, even to your own ears. Lando sees right through you, as always. He cups your burning cheek, tsking softly.

“Aww, baby, you’re all needy and flustered now, aren’t you?” His tone is warm, almost purred, sending a shiver rippling through you. “It’s okay, I get it. Who could resist wanting every second of my time?”

You huff out a petulant breath, but it’s impossible to stay irritated when he’s gazing at you with such open affection. “You’re an ass.”

“Maybe.” Lando shrugs cheerfully. “But I’m your ass.” He leans in until his lips are brushing your ear, voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “And tonight, I’ll be giving you every second of my undivided attention.”

A full-body shiver races through you at the heated promise in his tone. You’re abruptly, acutely aware of Oscar watching this whole exchange with a smirk.

“Get a room, you two,” he drawls, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Lando barks out a laugh, pulling back just enough to wink roguishly at you. “Don’t mind if we do.”

“Wait, here? Now?” You squeak out, suddenly flustered all over again as he takes your hand and starts tugging you toward the back of the motorhome.

“Why not?” Lando flashes you a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I told you, baby — I’m all yours tonight. No more sharing me with anyone else. Just you and me.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob to the private room, giving you a slow once-over that makes your skin prickle with delicious heat.

“And I plan to give you my complete … undivided … attention.”

The husky emphasis he puts on those last few words sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You can’t resist stealing a quick glance over at Oscar, who has the decency to look away with a badly concealed smirk.

Then Lando is hauling you through the door and slamming it shut behind you, pressing you up against it as his mouth instantly finds yours in a searing kiss. You melt against him with a breathless moan, all thoughts of jealousy evaporating like mist as his hands roam hungrily over your body.

When you finally break for air, Lando’s eyes are dark with a blazing intensity usually reserved for the racetrack. He brushes a few stray strands of hair from your flushed face with uncharacteristic tenderness.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know,” he murmurs gruffly. “Oscar’s my teammate, my rival, almost like a brother to me … but you’re the love of my life. You’ll always come first.”

The raw sincerity in his words steals your breath. You can only nod mutely, suddenly blinking back stupid, overwhelming tears of relief and adoration.

Lando seems to understand. He just smiles that heart-melting smile and guides you toward the small sofa, settling you onto his lap and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap snugly around you, holding you close, making you feel deliciously secure and wanted.

“I’m sorry I got jealous and petty,” you mumble, tentatively running your fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “I know how intense your connection with Oscar is on the track. I was just being stupid ...”

“No, no.” Lando cuts you off firmly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Your feelings are never stupid, baby. If I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, that’s on me.”

He punctuates his words with a soft, lingering kiss that deepens into something hungrier and needier when you clutch at the back of his neck, wanting him closer, closer ...

Some indeterminable time later, you reluctantly break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both pant for breath. Lando brushes his nose against yours, his eyes practically glowing with devotion.

“I really do love you, you know,” he murmurs, almost shyly. As if he hasn’t already made that abundantly clear a million times over. “More than anything. Or anyone.”

You hum contentedly, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat, a reassuring counterpoint to the pleasant ache of desire still thrumming through your veins.

“I know. And I love you too.” You pause, tracing the line of his jaw tenderly. “Even when I’m being jealous and ridiculous.”

Lando throws his head back with a rich peal of laughter that warms you all the way to your toes.

“Good thing I love you even more when you’re being jealous and ridiculous, then,” he quips, sticking his tongue out impishly.

You swat at his shoulder with a scowl that quickly melts into a reluctant grin, unable to stay annoyed in the face of his boyish charm and unabashed affection.

You know, deep down, that you really don’t have anything to be jealous of — not with the way Lando holds you close and gazes at you like you’re the only person in the world. Still, it’s reassuring having the confirmation out in the open.

You snuggle deeper into his chest, basking in the comfortable silence and closeness. Lando’s fingers idly trace patterns across your back as you breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the sharp tang of adrenaline.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs eventually, breaking the peaceful quiet. There’s a rare vulnerability in his voice that makes your heart squeeze. “This life … the racing, the fame, the constant pressure … it would all be meaningless if I didn’t have you by my side.”

You tilt your head back to study his earnest expression, struck by the depth of emotion simmering in his warm multi-colored eyes. Impulsively, you reach up to cup his cheek, marveling at how easily he leans into your touch.

In these unguarded moments, it’s hard to reconcile this open, sensitive soul with the fierce, single-minded racer who commands a global spotlight. You feel extraordinarily privileged to be one of the few people who gets to see Lando like this — soft, devoted, his heart laid bare.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whisper back fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere, Lando. I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

His smile is blinding, making your breath catch. Then his lips are on yours again, kiss brimming with a potent mixture of gratitude, need, and sheer adoration that steals your breath.

When you finally break apart, twin smiles of pure contentment tug at both your mouths. Lando loops his arms loosely around your waist, hands splaying across the small of your back as he simply holds you close and takes a moment to drink you in.

You watch the play of emotions flit across his expressive features — affection, longing, bone-deep satisfaction at having you here, now, anchored in his embrace. A sense of peace and belonging washes over you, chasing away any lingering shadows of jealousy or doubt.

This is where you belong. This is your heart’s home, right here in Lando’s arms, sharing his joy and success and weathering the storms alongside him. A love like this — passionate yet grounded, all-consuming yet secure — is worth fighting for.

You may occasionally get prickly twinges of irrational jealousy. You may bicker and tease and test each other’s patience to its limits. But at the end of the day, you know there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be.

Lando seems to read your mind, his grin taking on a distinctly smug edge as his fingers trace deliciously distracting patterns along your spine.

“See?” He murmurs. “Eye-fucking the teammate is all well and good … but this?” He punctuates the words by pulling you flush against him, letting you feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal. “This is what I really want. What I’ll always want, baby.”

You can’t resist rolling your eyes at his signature cockiness, even as you melt against him with a soft hum of contentment. Typical Lando — somehow managing to be both charming and infuriatingly self-satisfied at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, unable to keep the goofy smile off your face. “I get it, casanova. Now shut up and kiss me already.”

His answering laugh is pure sunshine, bright and carefree. Then he’s pulling you down into another heated kiss, effectively silencing any lingering self-doubt or jealousy.

This — the two of you, tangled up in each other with no barriers or secrets, just pure affection and insatiable desire — is what true love feels like. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble

[bri-cheeses]

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 855 | This is actually a part 2 to this post that I happened to completely forget about until about thirty minutes ago lol | Hope you enjoy! |

-

Barty watched Evan go, grass being crushed under his feet as he walked away.

Then he whirled back to Regulus and Dorcas, desperate for answers.

“Tell me what just happened,” he demanded.

Dorcas rubbed a hand over her forehead and Regulus scoffed.

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say that these past few years of relentlessly pining for each other finally caught up to you.” Regulus delivered it like a fact, and Barty gaped at him.

“What?” He could feel his mouth hanging open like a dumbstruck goldfish.

Next to Regulus, Dorcas rolled her eyes. “That was pathetic, Crouch,” she said. “For both of you. Merlin knows how we’ve watched you two tiptoe around each other for years now, but I’m scared it’s about to get a hundred times worse.”

Regulus wrinkled his nose at the thought. Barty felt slightly faint. “What do you mean we’ve been tiptoeing around each other for years?”

There was a long-suffering sigh from Regulus. “You like Evan,” he stated plainly, “and Evan likes you. And neither of you will pull your head out of the sand long enough to actually notice that the other likes you back.”

“But I don’t like Evan?”

Dorcas wheezed in surprised laughter.

“What?” she gasped. “Did you just say that? Regulus, tell me he did not just say that.”

“He did just say that,” Regulus said grimly. “Now you see what I’ve been living with for all this time.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Wait, I’m sorry, can we go back? Why is me saying that I don’t like Evan so incredibly hilarious?” Barty crossed his arms in petulance.

“Because,” Dorcas said slowly, as if she were explaining something to a small child, “you’ve liked Evan for years.”

A rush of heat traveled to Barty’s face. “No, I haven’t!”

“Barty,” Regulus interrupted, “how would you describe Evan’s hair?”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

Barty barely had to think about it, but he still frowned while speaking. “Well, it’s this really light blond color, and it’s more of a whitish tint than it is yellow. Except for when the sun lights it from behind, then it looks more like gold.”

He didn’t see the point of this.

Regulus shared an amused look with Dorcas. “Right. And what color is my hair?”

Barty frowned again, confused. “It’s black,” he said.

He looked on in confusion as Dorcas and Regulus burst out laughing.

“Barty, tell me, what’s Evan’s eye color?” Dorcas laughed.

“A really lovely brown, kind of like coffee with a dash of creamer in it.”

“And what’re my eyes like, pray tell?”

“Dark brown?”

It came out like more of a question than he wanted it to.

His friend's laughter had started to gain some attention, and Barty’s face grew warm at being the butt of some joke he didn’t know the punch line to.

“Barty, I want you to say the first word that comes to mind after I finish my next sentence, okay?” Regulus was actually smiling. It was at Barty’s expense, sure, but even then, it was rare enough occasion that it made Barty even more nervous. He nodded anyway and braced himself for Reg’s next words.

“Evan coming out of the bathroom without a shirt on.”

“Merlin,” Barty breathed, then clapped a hand to his mouth. Where had that come from?

Regulus and Dorcas both leveled a pointed stare at him, as if they were waiting for a realization to kick in.

When it did, Barty’s jaw dropped to the ground. He pointed an outraged finger between his two friends. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?!”

“Look,” Dorcas said as she raised her hands in defense, “it’s not our fault that you’re exponentially more dense than any of us expected.”

Regulus nodded his agreement. “We thought you knew.”

“Well, I did not know that, so. Thanks for that,” Barty glowered. Oh, this simple little fact has complicated everything for him.

“I’m done for, aren’t I?” he said miserably.

“Not really,” Dorcas mused.

Barty cut a sharp look towards her. “What do you mean?”

“Do you even remember how we got onto this topic in the first place? The whole “you liking Evan” thing, but also Evan liking you. For even longer than you’ve liked him, if I’m not mistaken.” Dorcas glanced towards Regulus for confirmation. Regulus nodded. He looked slightly pained and more than a little weary of Evan and Barty’s stupidity.

“Wait, really?” Barty questioned. “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been subject to his constant staring at you with his white-gold hair and coffee eyes for way too long,” Reg muttered.

Barty dropped his head down to his hands, covering the blush that has made its way back to his cheeks. “Merlin, I’m so gone for him, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Dorcas said at the same time Regulus responded, “Definitely.”

Barty groaned into his hands as Regulus continued, “But if it's any consolation, he’s just as gone for you.”

Barty looked up. “Actually,” he contemplated, “that is a consolation, Reg, thank you.”

Regulus nodded in acknowledgment at the same time a grin started to spread across Barty’s features.

This could be fun.

#rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #rosekiller microfic #bri’s microfics #dorcas meadowes #regulus black

[slutteok]

Highs and Lows (Jeong Yunho)

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

pairing ✭ dom!yunho x afab!reader

summary ✭ you and yunho always joked about getting a dog bed.

content ✭ smut 18+ MDNI

word count ✭ 2.8k

warnings ✭ smut, unprotected sex, restraints used, slight degradation

tags ✭ praise kink, degradation kink, rough oral sex, slight disinterested kink (if u squint), yunho has a big dick, size kink, gamer! yunho, pet play in the form of nick names.

notes ✭ please enjoy :3

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

You two always toyed around with the idea of getting you a dog bed, and always had joked about you giving him head while he was in the middle of a game. You never suspected it to become a reality until the day you came home and there was a dog bed under his desk, big enough that you could lay on it.

Yunho hadn't even noticed you came home, and was busy playing valorant with his friends. You knew exactly who he was playing with too, but you didn’t mind at all. You take a few steps over to him, gently patting his shoulder. He pulls one of his headphones out, and looks over his shoulder at you with a smile.

“Hi, welcome home.” he says, excitedly. You glance at his second monitor and see that he isn’t muted yet, so you reach down to the cable of his headset, and quickly mute him.

“Whats this?” you ask, leaning over him a bit and gesturing to the dog bed that sat under his feet. Honestly, it did look really comfortable. Yunho’s eyes dart down to it, then back up to you and he gets a nervous look on his face.

“You don’t want to..?” he trails off, but you shake your head, before you can even think. He perks up, and the smile returns to his face. He scoots his chair back just a bit, and gestures for you to move under his desk. Your eyes widen, and your lips part slightly, feeling the all familiar heat in your belly start to pool.

“N- not right now. Can I get cleaned up before?” you ask, sheepishly. Yunho chuckles, and shakes his head, almost in disbelief.

“Clean up? What for? I’m just going to make a mess of your pretty little mouth anyways.” A gasp rockets out of your mouth, and you can feel your knees give out just a little- you’re sure there’s a moan trapped and ready to escape instantly.

“You're in a call though… Yeosang and Wooyoung will hear, surely.” you try to find any excuse to not do it right now, but it seems like Yunho is set on his decision, entirely. He wouldn’t give you any leniency now, he had enjoyed this thought since it first came out of your mouth.

“I’ll be quiet, don’t worry.” Yunho smirks, gesturing to the dog bed again. You want to do as he says, but your feet are glued where you are stood. Yunho’s gaze flickers to his screen before groaning. He grabs your wrist and tugs you over to him, you grunt from the force but allow him to pull you. He plants you in front of him, before looking up at you from his seat. “Be a good puppy, and get on your knees.” he says through gritted teeth, your eyes fly open again and your stomach feels like it just exploded into butterflies, and you can feel your core start to ache for him.

You swallow hard but do as you're told, moving down to your knees. Yunho pulls his hands from you, and scoots his chair forward, making you have to move back down onto the dog bed. He puts a hand on your head, ensuring you don’t hit your head on his desk as you lower yourself. He looks down at you, pulling his headset back on, with a sly grin on his lips. He caresses your cheek, passing his thumb along your bottom lip before hooking it on your bottom teeth. You’re surprised by the sudden whimper that leaves your lips. He gently pulls his hand from your face before patting your cheek, forcefully which dazes you for a moment.

With one last look at you, Yunho grabs something off his desk.

“I trained you so well,” he grins, pulling away from you again, making you whine softly. He beckons you forward just a little, and you oblige, scooting forward. You notice his hands move in a rotating fashion, and it doesn't take too long for you to figure out he was holding a silk blindfold. You suddenly remember the one time you mentioned that the idea of being blindfolded and losing all sense of control was hot.

You watch as he wraps the silk in his hands, then pulls his hands apart, revealing two silk pieces. He sets one on his desk, and leans down to grab your hands. Your eyes widen and you watch as he guides both of your hands behind your back, and leans over you, to tie your hands behind your back. He pulls away, and looks at his monitor again, before scooting his chair forward, back into you. You stumble back a bit, but catch yourself and move back under the desk, seating yourself between his legs.

“Sorry my love, the round started.” he mumbles, reaching down and unmuting himself. You can see the silk blindfold dangling off his desk, as if it were mocking you. You huff and try to pull your hands out of their restraint but apparently Yunho was really, really good at tying things because although it was loose, you could not figure out how to free yourself.

“How am i supposed to suck your dick if i can’t use my hands to pull your pants down?” You grumble, and Yunho uses his knee to nudge you, to be quiet. You whine softly, and roll your eyes before scooting forward. You can see just by the bulge in his pants just how hard he was, and you wondered how long he had been waiting for you to come home and deal with this.

Yunho groans and slams his hands against the desk, slumping back in his chair.

“No, that Reyna is just too good. I hit her for 50, but she used her heal.” Yunho grumbles, to his teammates. He huffs, and looks down at you, his eyes follow yours. He mutes himself again, before grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. A moan escapes your lips, and he twitches at the sound.

“Aren’t you a stupid little thing? Can’t figure out how to take my pants off?” He grins, cocking an eyebrow at you, before letting go of your head. “I’ll help you.” he croons, his hands falling to the button of his pants and undoing it. You watch as he slowly unzips his pants, and lifts his hips out of his chair to pull his pants down.

You hum in satisfaction, a small smile crossing your lips as his hard dick springs from his pants. The heat in your belly grows hotter and hotter just by the sight of his size- just knowing how deep it can go inside of you. You let out a little breathy moan, a little more eager for his dick in your mouth than you anticipated. Yunho lets out a light laugh, admiring how pathetic you look. He looks up at his monitor once more, and scoots his chair back in. He reaches under the desk and grabs a fist full of your hair, pulling you as close as he can get you, before stroking himself once.

“Be a good girl and let me use your pretty little mouth however I want, okay?” He whispers, his grip in your hair tightening, eliciting a small whimper out of your lips. You nod in response, but he raises an eyebrow and tilts his head at you. “Use your words, puppy.” He growls. Your legs immediately feel like jelly under you. You groan, and nod again.

“Okay.” You mumble, his lips form a straight line, dissatisfied by your response, but he knows you don’t like it when he gets super pushy, so he drops it. He lets go of you completely, letting you stumble forward into his chair, you take a second and watch his attention go back to his game- watching his slender fingers press the unmute button on the cord of his headphones, the heat in your belly just growing more.

You push yourself forward but Yunho's faster, and before you know it, the tip of his dick is pressed into your lips. Your eyes fly open, and look up at him, but he’s not even paying attention to you. You roll your eyes, before opening your mouth. He jerks his hips a little, and you look up again, seeing his face twitch for a split second.

“Two in showers, Harbor hit for 85.” Yunho mumbles a command to his friends, but doesn’t look down at you, and his hands are still on his keyboard and mouse. You close your eyes, and hollow your cheeks out, flattening your tongue against his shaft. You can hear the breath in his throat catch, and he tenses up just a bit. You start to move your head slowly, careful not to make any sounds that his mic could catch and expose the two of you to his friends.

“Fuck!” Yunho groans, thrusting his hips up, making you gag on his dick. You go to pull away but Yunho’s hands immediately come to your head, holding you down. He thrusts into your mouth, and you can feel the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, making you gag against him again. You try to pull away, finding it hard to breathe and you’re already getting dizzy, he holds you there for a few more seconds, pushing his full length down into your throat. He lets out a little moan before letting go, and you come flying off of him, gasping for air, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re so fucking pretty, puppy. God.” Yunho reaches for your face again, his thumb catching against your bottom teeth again, and pulling you back to him. His eyes never even met yours, they were glued to your lips. You blink a few times at him as you catch your breath. He moves his thumb further into your mouth, and your mouth clamps shut down around his digit, your tongue swirling around his thumb before he pulls it out with a quick ‘pop.’ “Such a pretty little thing. So pathetic.” He groans, wiping your tears away from your eyes. He chuckles at the sight, before taking another fistful of your hair and pulling you back to him.

He doesn't even give you a chance to prepare yourself for him again, before he’s filling your entire mouth again. Your nose is fully pressed against his pubic bone, and he lets out another moan. His eyes darted to his monitor, confirming he was muted. He sighs softly, and loosens his grip on your hair, just a bit. He bunches your hair up, and uses it as leverage to move your head to a pace he likes. He has absolutely no regard for how you feel right now, your only job right now is to pleasure him and that’s exactly what you’re doing.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” He groans, as you hollow your cheeks once more. He looks down at you, and wipes a few more of your tears away, his hand lingering on your cheek for a second, before pushing you back down, his dick hitting the back of your throat again and making you gag again. He moans, and holds you there again, before pulling his hands from you once more.

You whine, not liking that he won’t give you his undivided attention, and you watch again as he unmutes himself again. You roll your eyes again, before moving to the head of his dick. You swirl little circles around the head of his dick, and every so often giving it a rough suck, making him jump- you watch as his muscles tense up, and relax with each movement you make.

This time he seems to have a harder time keeping himself collected. Every single movement you make, quick or elongated, seems to get a reaction from him, even if your movement is limited due to your hands being tied behind your back. Your eyes flicker back up to the silk blindfold on his desk, which seems to be mostly forgotten about; which you were grateful for- seeing the effect you had on him was too good to miss. His twitching muscles, the way his lips would part slightly, and the way he eyes fluttered shut whenever he had a second to relax.

“f-Fuck!” He groans again, as you lick up his shift from the base to the tip, taking the tip into your mouth and sucking on it harshly. He snaps a hand down to your hair, grabbing a fistful of your hair again. “N-no i’m fine, i’m okay.” Yunho says through gritted teeth, looking down at you with a look of pure pleasure. He huffs, shaking his head at you and looking back up to his monitor.

Once more, you watch his long fingers press the mute button, and you grin, innocently at him.

“Brat. I’m trying to play a game, you know?” Yunho growls, and you giggle softly, which only makes him look visibly annoyed with you. You try to take him into your mouth again, but he pulls you back by your hair. “Naughty puppy. This isn’t how I trained you.” he scolds, and your mouth falls open slightly, a whimper escaping your lips. “I’m gonna cum down your pretty little throat, and you’re gonna take every last drop of it.” He says, casually. You feel your muscles clench, and you whine and nod in response. He raises an eyebrow at you, and clenches his jaw.

“I won’t waste a single drop, Yun.” you mutter, and he makes a hum of satisfaction, loosening his grip on your hair. He moves back towards you, and you take his dick back into your mouth, flattening your tongue against him. He groans and thrusts up into your mouth, making you moan against him.

“Fuck, I think I like looking at you like this.” He groans, finally taking his headset off, setting it on the desk. His full attention is on you again, though you kind of liked when he wasn’t paying a lick of attention to you. You look up at him, tears forming in your eyes again as he continues to use and abuse your mouth and throat.

Your tear stained cheeks, your eyeliner mixing with your tears as they run down your cheeks, makes you look so pathetic. He loved when you looked like this. So small, so needy, so desperate all for him.

He growls, letting his head fall back, as his hands hold your head still. He fucks up into your throat at a punishing pace, and you can feel your throat beginning to feel raw and sore. He lets out a moan, his grip on your head tightening.

“Oh, fuck.” He moans your name, a sweet sound coming from him, making you moan in response. Your moan against him makes his dick twitch in your mouth, and you brace yourself, knowing he’s about to explode down your throat. He loosens his grip, letting you pull away and catch your breath before moving your head back, pressing your nose to his pelvic bone before.

He looks down at you, smiling once more at your pathetic, tear stained cheeks.

“Fuck, so fucking pathetic. You stupid dog.” He moans, his eyes closing. Your moan against him again, and the feeling makes him jolt- his dick twitching in your mouth before spilling his seed down your throat. “Oh my god, fuck.” He moans, the grip on your head so tight, you could swear he was about to pop your skull.

He pulls you off, both of you panting heavily, and covered in a slight sheen of sweat. He drops your hair back around your shoulders, and quickly runs a hand through your hair. He scoots his chair back slightly, leaning over you again to untie your restraints. You sigh in relief and watch as he grabs his water bottle, and hands it to you.

“Wha-?” you stare at him for a second, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“What? You don’t want water? I just abused your throat.” He chuckles, and you nod, taking his water bottle from him. You didn’t realize just how badly you needed the water, as it soothed your sore throat. You sigh, and hand it back to him after a few long sips. He puts it back on his desk and holds his hand out to you. You take his hand, and he pulls you to your feet, then right into his lap.

He moves his head towards you, capturing your lips with his in a sweet, tender kiss. You can’t help but smile against his lips. He smiles back, and pulls away, looking at his monitor.

On the screen, you have to squint a bit, but you see it.

In the discord, the words ‘yunho, you forgot to mute.’ were written on his screen; leaving you both, now absolutely fucking horrified.

#ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #atz smut #atz x reader #atz imagines #jeong yunho #yunho ateez #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut

[kentobb]

PRESAGE | CHAPTER FIVE

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: Verbal fight? Argument. Emotional Damage.

Ushijima’s steps echoed through the dimly lit, narrow streets of the neighborhood, each sound bouncing off the cracked pavement and graffiti-covered walls. The area was a stark contrast to the pristine order he was accustomed to, but he hardly noticed. His thoughts were entirely consumed by the upcoming conversation with you. As he passed a group of loitering teenagers who eyed him suspiciously, he tightened his jaw and quickened his pace.

Finally, he arrived at the dilapidated apartment building. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, before ascending the creaking stairs. Reaching the door he knew was yours, he hesitated for a fraction of a second before knocking. The sound of footsteps approached, and the door opened to reveal you, face lighting up with a mix of surprise and warmth.

“Ushijima,” you breathed, her voice soft and welcoming.

“Y/N,” he replied, his deep voice almost tender.

You stepped aside to let him in. The apartment was small and cluttered, but there was a sense of coziness and care within the modest space. His eyes immediately fell on the toys scattered across the living room floor, brightly colored reminders of the child who lived here. The sight filled him with a strange mixture of hope and sorrow.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” You said, gesturing towards the couch. You moved towards the kitchenette, movements graceful despite the tight space. He watched you as you prepared tea, his mind swirling with questions and emotions.

Once the tea was ready, you brought two steaming cups to the living room and sat down across from him. Sitting in silence for a moment, the air was heavy with unspoken words.

“Thank you,” Ushijima said, taking the cup but not drinking. His gaze was fixed on you, waiting for you to begin.

You took a deep breath, fingers trembling slightly as you wrapped them around your cup. “Asahi was born in December 14, of 2013”

“How was it?” he said, his voice steady but intense. “Tell me everything.”

You looked down at the tea, eyes glistening. “It was... a difficult pregnancy. I went into labor early, and they had to perform an emergency C-section.” Your voice wavered, and Ushijima felt a tightness in his chest. “For a moment, I was terrified I’d lose him. But he’s strong.”

Ushijima listened intently, every word sinking deep into his heart. He could feel the weight of the years he had missed, the moments he had been absent for.

“I was alone through most of it. My family helped, but it wasn’t the same.” You continued, eyes filling with tears.

You reached for a photo album on the table and handed it to him. His large hands gently took it, and he began flipping through the pages. Each photo was a new revelation—a newborn Asahi in the hospital, his first smile, his tiny hand clutching a toy, his first steps. Ushijima’s breath caught in his throat. Here was his son, growing up before his eyes in snapshots, a life he hadn’t known existed.

“He’s... he’s just like you,” You said, a soft smile playing on your lips. “He’s quiet, thoughtful. He has this seriousness about him, even when he plays. He likes to line up his toys in perfect rows, and he’s incredibly determined. When he wants something, he doesn’t give up until he gets it.”

Ushijima’s heart swelled with pride and a deep sense of loss. “I lost all those years,” he said quietly, his voice strained with emotion. “My son... I didn’t even know.”

You reached out to touch his hand, but he pulled back, the pain too raw. “Ushijima, I’m so sorry. I-I did what I thought was best.”

“Best?” he echoed, his voice rising slightly. “You kept him from me. You made that decision for both of us.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I was scared! I didn’t know if you’d want us. I didn’t know if you’d be ready to be a father.”

“And now?” he demanded, his frustration bubbling up. “I want to meet him, I need to.”

You shook her head, own voice growing more insistent. “It’s not that simple. He doesn’t know you. He’s just a baby.”

“I’ve already lost so much time,” Ushijima said, his voice breaking with the weight of his words. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

You stood up, own anger flaring. “And you think this is easy for me? You think I don’t want him to know his father? But I need to protect him. I need to do what’s right for him.”

“What’s right?” Ushijima shouted, standing as well. “What’s right is for him to know his father. For me to be in his life.”

Their voices echoed through the small apartment, the argument growing more heated with each passing moment. Emotions that had been bottled up for years were now spilling out, raw and unchecked.

“You don’t understand,” You cried, voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness. “I’ve been doing this alone, making these decisions alone. I’m scared, Ushijima. I’m scared of what this will do to him.”

“And you think I’m not scared?” he retorted, his own tears threatening to fall. “You think I haven’t been living with this emptiness, not knowing I had a son out there?”

Your voices rose, the argument intensifying. Ushijima’s normally stoic demeanor cracked under the weight of his emotions, something you had never seen before.

“I missed his first steps, his first words,” Ushijima continued, his voice filled with anguish. “I missed everything. How can you expect me to wait any longer?”

“I had to make those choices alone,” You countered, own voice rising. “I had to decide what was best for him without you. I was terrified of what this would mean for him, for us.”

“What about what’s best for him now?” Ushijima shot back, his fists clenching at his sides. “He deserves to know his father, to have me in his life.”

“And if it confuses him? If it scares him?” Your voice broke, tears streaming down your face. “He’s so young, Ushijima. He’s never known anything but me. Bringing you into his life has to be done carefully.”

“Carefully?” Ushijima shouted, his control slipping completely. “I’ve been careful my whole life. I’ve sacrificed and disciplined myself for everything I have. And now, when it matters most, I’m supposed to wait? To be patient?”

Your tears fell freely now, own emotions a tumultuous storm. “I know it’s unfair, I know it’s painful, but I’m begging you to trust me. I need time to prepare him, to make sure he understands.”

Ushijima’s face contorted with a mix of rage and despair. “I can’t accept that. I’ve already lost so much time. Every day I don’t know him, don’t hold him, is another day wasted.”

“You think I don’t feel that too?” You screamed, voice cracking. “Every single day I see him and think about how much you’ve missed, how much he’s missed. But I had to make the best choice I could.”

The room fell silent, the intensity of the emotions filling the space. In the charged silence, Ushijima took a step forward, his eyes locked on yours. In a sudden, desperate move, he grabbed you and pulled you into a fierce kiss.

The world outside ceased to exist, and for a moment, there was only the two of them, connected by years of longing and unspoken love.

When he finally pulled apart, both of your breaths were ragged, staring into each other’s eyes, both of you reeling from the intensity of the moment.

“I can’t,” You whispered, voice breaking. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Ushijima’s heart ached with the weight of your words, but he nodded slowly, understanding the depth of that kiss. He released you, stepping back, the distance between you feeling like an insurmountable chasm.

“J-Just…let me talk to him, prepare him.” You whispered, voice barely audible through your sobs.

Ushijima’s eyes blazed with a mixture of hurt and fury. “When would he be ready? Another five years?” he asked out of furry, his voice trembling with emotion.

You looked at him, out of words. How could he be so insensitive? “Get out!” You yelled as tears fell down your cheeks.

Without another word, Ushijima turned and stormed out of the apartment. The door slammed shut behind him with a force that rattled the walls, the sound echoing down the dimly lit hallway. The finality of it left a heavy silence in its wake, a silence that seemed to press down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

Your sobs echoed through the small apartment, heart feeling like it might shatter into a thousand pieces. The walls, the toys, everything seemed to close to you, pressing down with the weight of your emotions. You hugged your knees tighter, rocking back and forth as you tried to stem the tide of her tears.

In the quiet aftermath of your breakdown, a small sound reached your ears—soft, hesitant footsteps padding down the hallway. You froze, wiping your tears quickly, trying to compose yourself as best as you could.

“Mommy?”

You looked up to see Asahi standing in the doorway, his big, innocent eyes filled with worry. His small frame was dwarfed by the oversized pajamas he wore, his dark hair tousled from sleep.

You forced a smile, though your heart ached even more at the sight of him. “Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing up?”

Asahi shuffled closer, his little face scrunched in concern. “I heard yelling,” he said, his voice small and tremulous. “Was someone fighting?”

Your heart squeezed. You opened your arms, and Asahi immediately crawled into your lap, burying his face in your neck. “No, honey, it wasn’t us. It was just the neighbors being loud. Everything’s okay.”

“Really?” Asahi asked, pulling back to look at you, his innocent eyes searching hers.

“Really,” you assured him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Asahi studied your face intently, his tiny brows knitting together. “Why are you crying, Mommy?”

Your heart felt like it might break all over again. “Oh, sweetie, I’m just a little tired, that’s all. Sometimes grown-ups cry when they’re tired.”

He seemed to accept this explanation, though he still looked uncertain. “I don’t like it when you cry. It makes me sad.”

You pulled him close, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry, Asahi. I don’t want to make you sad.”

Asahi hugged you back, his small arms wrapped around your neck. “I love you, Mommy.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of a different kind. “I love you too, my little bear.”

Asahi nuzzled into your shoulder, his voice muffled but sincere. “Can you sleep with me tonight? I’m scared.”

Your heart melted at his words. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed.”

You stood, lifting him easily into your arms. Asahi clung to you, his head resting on your shoulder. You carried him back to his bedroom, the small space filled with the comforting presence of his toys and books. You laid him down gently on his bed, then slipped under the covers beside him.

Asahi cuddled up to you immediately, his tiny hand finding yours and holding on tightly. “Mommy, promise you’ll always be here?”

You kissed his forehead, heart swelling with love. “I promise, Asahi. I’ll always be here for you.”

He snuggled closer, his breathing slowing as he began to drift back to sleep. “I love you, Mommy,” he murmured again, his voice drowsy.

“I love you too, my sweet boy,” You whispered, holding him close.

As Asahi’s breathing deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep, You lay there, own tears slowly subsiding. The storm of emotions from earlier had not fully dissipated, but in this moment, with your son safe and warm in your arms, you felt a measure of peace.

Your thoughts drifted to Ushijima, the pain and anger in his eyes when he had left. You didn’t know what the future held.

But as you lay there with Asahi, you knew that you would do everything in your power to protect him, to ensure he felt loved and secure.

You closed your eyes, the exhaustion of the evening finally catching up to you. As you drifted into sleep, you held onto the hope that, somehow, you would find a way through this. That one day, Asahi would know his father, and that your family, fractured and strained as it was, could find a way to heal.

Any comments, notes and reblogs are appreciated <3 let me know what yall think of this chapter

#haikyuu #hq fluff #hq angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #angst #haikyuu ushijima #wakatoshi ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima angst #ushijima x y/n #ushijima x reader

[lookingfts]

More of older Kate and younger Anthony. It's a tragedy we don't have more fics of that age gap. It's always older Anthony - which is great but I would like to see how it could work with older Kate. So many possibilities. I hope one day you wiil be brave enough to give that trope a try. Maybe you will inspire other writers to do so too.

Here's a little more!

--

“Hey, Kate.”

She really wished he wouldn’t use that fucking voice on her. The soft, rich one that made her knees go a little weak and blood rush to her face, as if he literally wasn’t just saying hello.

“Hi, Anthony,” she said evenly, taking a sip of her Moscato. “Good to see you.”

His warm eyes flicked over her body, subtly, but not fast enough for Kate not to notice. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Truthfully, she felt a bit awkward. She hadn’t worn this dress in at least eight years, on Tom’s arm at some work event. It was drapey silver fabric, with jeweled straps and a high slit in the back. Kate knew it still looked good, knew her figure hadn’t changed much in that time, but she felt a little like she had then. Like she was playacting to fit in among a bunch of people she had nothing in common with. “Thank you. You look nice as well.”

Nice was a hilarious understatement. He was wearing a white button-down, rolled up to his elbows, and navy trousers that made his arse look like a work of art. 

Well. He’d obviously worked hard for that arse; he did deserve to show it off, she supposed.

He smiled crookedly, resting his elbow against the table, and Kate took a breath. The last thing she needed was for Anthony Bridgerton to pay any actual attention to her. His glances from across the room were enough to fuck with her head. If he was going to linger around her and tell her how beautiful she looked, things were going to fall apart quickly.

“You didn’t look like you were having a great time,” Anthony said, some of the artificial charm leaking from his voice, replaced with genuine curiosity. “I thought you might like some company.”

Kate met his eyes. He was watching her intently, as if he had honestly been concerned about her, and-

Fuck, he was good. It was no wonder that women were burning their knickers for him left and right. He had multiple tricks up his sleeve - if they didn’t fall for the swagger, he swung to personal interest.

“I’m having a great time,” she said with a shrug. “Thank you, though.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been standing in this corner half the night.”

Kate’s jaw tightened. No way he had been watching her that closely. It was true, though - Violet had pleaded with her to come, but she had hostess duties and could hardly cling to Kate’s side all evening. “I think there are other people here who are actually seeking your attention.”

He frowned. “Who, the people from my father’s company? It may not surprise you to learn that they’re all dicks.”

That did not surprise her, but Kate scoffed anyway. “I was thinking more like your girlfriend over there.”

Anthony’s eyes shot to where she had gestured - the pretty young brunette who was wearing a skintight black leather dress and flashing a truly impressive fuck me gaze.

“Siena’s not my girlfriend,” he said, seeming annoyed at the insinuation. “She’s a friend of the family-.”

“But you’ve slept with her, right?” Kate interrupted. He looked a little taken aback, and even she couldn’t account for why she said it with such disdain. “I’m friends with your mum. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me.”

Eyes growing heated, Anthony took a step toward her, until they were eye to eye and all she could smell was his citrusy cologne and the bite of whiskey on his breath. “Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.”

“You know what my mum has told you about me. You’ve met me a few times now. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me, Kate. You’ve seen enough to decide not to give me a chance.”

Heat pricked at the back of her neck, something dangerous brewing in the static air between them. “Give you a chance to do what?”

“To get to know you,” Anthony murmured, his eyes dropping briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. “To spend time with you.”

Kate couldn’t help it. She didn’t know what else to do but laugh, at the ridiculousness of the situation, at the unbearable tension that strung them together. “You’re twenty-five.”

“Does that matter?”

“Do you even know how old I am?”

“You’re thirty-seven,” he said easily, not sounding fazed in the slightest. “And you’re smart, and funny, and fucking gorgeous, and I…god, Kate. If you had any idea, the dreams I’ve had of you.”

A shiver worked up her spine at the way he was looking at her. The face of a man dying to act out his filthiest fantasies. And something in her ached to let him.

Kate swallowed. This had already gone too far. She should have cut it off the second he approached her. “You need to stop.”

“Because you want me to? Or because you have some arbitrary reason why you think we shouldn’t?” he challenged. Reaching out, Anthony slid his large hand over her forearm, goosebumps erupting over her skin. “Tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want a single thing from me, and I’ll walk away and never bother you again.”

It was so easy. To just push the words past her lips, I don’t want you. You’re not worth what I could lose. Give up on this foolish notion of us, before it bites us both in the arse. He needed to hear it, and Kate would only be giving him the out that he would seek himself, sooner or later.

Instead, she brushed his hand off her arm, shaking her head minutely. “Good night, Anthony.”

And as she slipped around him, Kate forced herself not to look back.

#older kate au #bridgerton #kanthony #asks and answers #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic

[aurorawritestoescape]

BAD BLOOD part 5

Pairing: step-uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: the one with a late night visit, a hot breakfast and a surprise from Joel.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, dark!reader, mfm, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cockwarming, rough!Joel, Tommy is sweet (for now), somno, f/m oral, face slapping (2), creampies, cum eating, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, exhibitionism, masturbation, swearing. Reader has hair that can be pulled. Tommy can pick up reader. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.

Word count: 5,8k

A/n: I’m so excited to share this part with you all! It’s filthy and even sweet at times, until it’s not😅 Big thanks to @milla-frenchy for holding my hand, hyping me up and beta-ing this depravity😘Thank YOU ALL for your interest in this story!🥹 Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Love you all💖

Part 4 || SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

*****

You feel ticklish, when a warm breath fans the inside of your thigh. In a second soft lips kiss your pussy and a hot tongue delves between your folds. Your back arches from the sudden pleasure and you open your eyes.

You’re lying naked in the middle of the table in the dining room, where your stepdad Tommy ate you out, while your step-uncle Joel watched.

You look down and see Tommy’s head between your thighs. He glances up and gives you a playful wink, before diving back into your pussy. He’s sucking on your clit and you’re softly moaning, while fruitlessly trying to gather your thoughts and remember if your mother is at home or not.

You’re drowning in pleasure but suddenly you hear a growl behind you. Scared to death you hastily tilt your head back and to your surprise find Joel sitting at the head of the table. With confusion you see that he’s eating a steak. He’s stabbing his fork and knife into the meat, loudly cutting it while watching his brother having another type of meal.

What the fuck? You try to say but can’t. Rage begins bubbling in your stomach, tinting the pleasure Tommy’s giving you. ‘Why is he just sitting there? Why is he only watching? Arrogant motherfucker!’

Joel seems to notice your anger, because the next moment he leaves the fork and knife on the plate and gets up. Planting his hands on the wooden surface of the table, he leans forward and his face hovers over yours.

Your eyes lock for a few moments before Tommy plunges his tongue inside your crying hole and you gasp. Joel smiles, then leans closer and kisses you.

He’s gentle and soft, a stark contrast to his behavior when you spent a night together. His tongue tangles with yours while Tommy licks deep into you, gathering your arousal and drinking it, humming with satisfaction against your pussy.

You’re in heaven for a few seconds until you hear your mother’s voice. Your heart drops and you wake up.

You’re in your bedroom and the moon is peaking through a crack in the drapes. You’re breathing heavily, trying to calm down, as your heart is about to jump out of your chest. Suddenly a realization hits you that not everything from the dream dissolved into the reality. You still feel the lips, caressing your pussy. After hastily throwing off the blanket, you see Tommy devouring your cunt, his hands holding your thighs open while his mouth applies light suction to your hardened clit.

“Tommy,” you half whisper-half moan and he parts from your pussy and raises his head.

“Hey, baby. I’ll be right up,” you hear him whisper, before he gets back to work.

You look around the room, calming down bit by bit, and then put your head back on the pillow. You smile to yourself, thinking that the reality is almost as enjoyable as your dream.

You’re so close to the climax, your whole body vibrates, and when your stepdad rubs your clit with the flat of his tongue a few times, you’re already wriggling on the bed while euphoria is coursing through your body. You’re breathing out Tommy’s name and he laps up your juices and when his ministrations start hurting, you slightly push him away and he climbs up your body.

Soon he’s kissing you and you whimper, tasting yourself on his lips. You can’t get enough of each other, making out, while he’s lying on top of you. He starts slowly grinding his clothed crotch against the apex of your thighs and you feel him hard and big on your naked pussy.

“You’re back,” you whisper, when he parts from you.

After her weekend away, Jess took hold of Tommy and you haven’t seen him for a whole day. You haven’t seen Joel either, which was on purpose. You avoided him as hard as you could, having spent the whole day at your friend's place. You were trying to decide what to do next.

Joel wanted you to ruin Tommy’s marriage by sending the recording of their conversation to your mother. But after that night, you started to feel pity for your stepdad, especially after he asked you to delete the audio. He promised that you’d continue fucking and that was exactly what you had ever wanted from the plan. So you avoided Joel, hoping that he’d leave for Austin soon and your stepdad and you would sneak around to fuck any chance you got.

“Hope I didn’t scare you. Couldn’t help myself. You are so hot when you’re sleeping, sweetheart.”

Tommy kisses you again and you're practically melting in his arms.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you whine and he growls.

“When you put it this way, I can’t say no,” he whispers, getting up to sit on his heels between your thighs.

He looks down at your naked pussy and swirls your clit with his thumb, making you jerk from the sensitivity. You ask him quietly,

“Where’re my shorts?”

“Took ‘em off. Was careful not to wake you”, he replies with a wink, his eyes glinting with mischief in the moonlight.

You whine, as your core burns harder because of his words.

He frees his cock and it bobs over your waiting pussy. Your legs part, inviting him in, and he doesn’t make you wait. Tommy slides his cock into your already soaked cunt with a soft ‘yeah’, digging his fingers into your thighs and you echo him with a moan.

“Quiet, sweetheart,” he reminds you and whispers, “Fucking love your pussy. ‘s the best.” You feel flattered at the same time driving away the thought of who he’s comparing you with.

He starts pushing his cock in and out of your cunt, his moves slow and thorough. Tommy takes your ankle and puts it on his shoulder, while pressing your other thigh down, opening you up to him completely.

Even in the darkness of the room you see his cock glisten with your slick every time he pulls it out of your sopping cunt. His thumb is on your clit again and you cry out with the added pleasure, and he quickly shushes you,

“Shh, you don’t want anyone interrupting us, right, baby?”

You shake your head and when his finger returns to your throbbing bud, you whimper against the back of your hand, trying to be discreet.

For a few minutes it’s just this—him fucking you as you’re watching.

“Sweetheart,” Tommy murmurs and your gaze slides up from his cock, pounding your pussy, to his beautiful face. He’s smirking.

“Would you want Joel to be here with us?”

“No, I love being alone with you,” you whisper back, and he laughs.

“Your pussy clenched on me so hard when I said my brother's name,” Tommy says and slightly bites your ankle. “Don’t lie to me when I have my cock in you like this. She’ll always tell me the truth.”

You smile back at him.

“My pussy is a slut. But my heart—There’s only you.” You’re not sure if you’re lying or not but you know that this is what he wants to hear.

“Fuck, little minx”. Tommy breathes out and picks up the pace. You bite your lower lip, trying to keep quiet, and squeeze your eyes shut, enjoying the way his big cock massages your walls.

“Bet you’d love to suck him off right now. Or have him in your ass. You need all your holes stuffed, right, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” all you could manage to say while he’s relentlessly railing you.

“What if we plug all your holes, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you purr, feeling your core tighten.

“We can easily find a third guy. Anyone would be willing to fuck you, baby.”

The image of three men claiming your holes intoxicates you and you whimper, “really?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tommy says through heavy panting, “I don’t have anyone in mind here but in Austin— Joel surely knows someone who can gangbang you with us.”

You moan and he grunts, trying not to be too loud, but your pussy is too good to enjoy it quietly. His sounds make you clench even more and in no time you’re coming on his stiff cock, mouth open in a silent scream, back arched.

When your climax subsides, Tommy keeps going, rolling his hips deep and hard.

“Where, honey?” He asks with a little moan.

“Inside. Want your cum. Please, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

As soon as he praises you, he erupts into your wet heat, and you feel his warm seed kiss your walls and slide out of your hole, while he’s drawing pleasure from your cunt.

Tommy stills and gently pulls his cock out. He splays his palm on your lower belly, slightly rubbing your skin and asks,

“Do you feel me here?”

“Yes, it’s warm. I’m so full,” you mumble, putting your hand over his.

He whispers ‘good’ with a little smile and lies down next to you.

Your stepdad pulls you close and kisses you. You wish he’d never stop, never leave your bed. You fall asleep, happy and satisfied, on his broad shoulder.

*****

When you wake up, Tommy’s gone and you lie in bed, remembering the night before. You still sense your stepdad's hands, sliding over your body, his mouth on your pussy, his cock buried deep inside your burning core. You throw your blanket off, feeling hot and horny. You’re naked from your waist down and your pussy is still wet. Your needy cunt makes you bring your hand to your tingling center and you lightly trace the edges of your slicked up hole. Then you push a finger inside and pull it out completely wet with Tommy’s cum.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out and get more of his load from your leaking entrance. Then you swirl your clit, using Tommys cum as lube, and every nerve in your body lights up. You moan louder than last night, rubbing your throbbing clit, soaking the sheets with your sweat. As soon as you imagine Tommy’s tongue on your twitching bud, you come undone, limbs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing.

When you calm down, trembling legs carry you to the shower.

***

Before going downstairs you stick your head out of the bedroom door and listen. You hear Jess’s annoying voice downstairs, so Tommy must be there too. Wearing your slutty pjs - your stepdad’s favorite, and a crop top, you head downstairs, your hair still wet from the shower. You find your lover at the kitchen table, yawning and listening to your mom with a blank stare.

“Slept badly, Tommy?” you tease him, walking up to the table and taking a seat next to him.

At first he beams, seeing you, but quickly makes his face serious in the presence of your mother.

“I slept like a log,” your mom says and you smile to yourself, thanking her for it.

You grab a toast and nibble on it, just enjoying Tommy’s presence and trying hard to tune Jess out.

Her yapping about something stupid and boring is soon interrupted by a door ring.

“It must be Cindy,” she says, getting up and leaving the room.

As soon as she’s out, your hand flies to Tommy’s thigh.

“Is she leaving?” You ask, rubbing his leg with a devilish smile.

His breath hitches and you notice that he matches your excitement, judging by the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Yeah. Be patient, baby.” He takes your hand and moves it from his thigh up on the table. He’s trying to keep his composure but his blown eyes, sliding over your body, tell you that he’s as desperate as you’re.

You turn to the door, hearing your mom’s steps, and to your disappointment, see Joel following her into the kitchen. He’s wearing a low cut shirt that exposes his sexy chest and a pair of tight jeans, accentuating his huge package. As always he looks like a slut.

An involuntary ‘fuck!’ escapes your lips and you drop your gaze, trying to appear invisible to the man you’ve been avoiding.

Apparently Joel has heard you, because he comes up to you and kisses the top of your head.

“Happy to see you too, sweet niece,” he rasps and you jerk away from his lips but gush anyway, remembering him fucking your ass just a day ago.

He pats Tommy on the shoulder and goes to pour himself a cup of coffee. Jess is visibly displeased by his visit.

“You three have a nice morning. Cindy and I are going to Madison’s. Jack is leaving her for a 20 year old bitch. Can you imagine?”

“Maybe they’re in love,” you say, raising your brows, and your mom scoffs. Tommy glances at you, his gaze is full of warmth and affection, and you answer it with a little smile.

“Good for him,” Joel booms behind you and Tommy nervously squeezes his coffee mug.

You turn back to the older man, glaring at him, scared he might say something about your relationship with Tommy. He’s leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in hand.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, Jessica,” Joel continues, “men are not meant to be monogamous. It’s nature. They will always want someone younger and hotter.”

Jess rolls her eyes at him and you can’t help but follow her suit.

“They can be if they meet the right person,” you dispute and he smirks.

“Yes, angel, until they meet the next right person.”

He laughs and you’re boring your eyes into the man. Soon your staring contest is interrupted by Jess, saying that her friend is here.

Tommy goes to see her off and as soon as Joel and you are left alone, you get up and try to sneak out of the room as soon as possible.

You’re almost at the door, when a rough hand grabs your arm, unceremoniously spins you around and pins you to the fridge.

“Not so fast, missy,” Joel growls and your stomach drops, “Ya ghostin’ me, girl?” He presses you with his hips into the hard surface of the fridge and you feel his soft cock, which is still huge, against your lower belly and fire ignites in your core. You hate him but you can’t deny the pull he has on you. His scent, his body, his dominance overwhelms you and you get wet and push your thighs together.

You try to wiggle your way out but he’s too strong and big.

“What? No, Joel. I was just busy.”

“Doin’ what? Being a cum dumpster for my little brother?”

You avert your eyes and he chuckles, nodding his head, before bringing his face closer to yours.

“I need you to get his dick out of your mind for a second and do what you promised me. Send the fuckin’ recording to Jess. Now!” He roars and fear grips your heart and at the same time makes your arousal spike. You use all your strength not to moan. You need to stop thinking with your pussy for a second, need to concentrate, so you take a deep breath and try to reason with him.

“Joel, listen. I can’t do it now. I still have to live here for a week. Do you think she’ll be ok with me after she hears the recording? She’d hate me. Even more than now. I really don’t wanna be here for that shit show.”

You make your cutest pleading face and beg, “Please. I’ll send it as soon as I leave for college. I promise, Joel.”

His piercing stare under the furrowed brows makes your stomach churn, but you try to seem calm. After a few moments of consideration, Joel’s face softens and he slightly pulls away. He’s still very close and your chest brushes his, when you shift on your feet.

“ ‘k. But as soon as you’re out of ‘ere, send it. I’m tired of waitin’.”

“Yes, Joel.” You’re batting your lashes at him, feigning obedience and hiding the excitement that you just got yourself a week of fun times with your stepdad. Feeling bolder, you lower your gaze to Joel’s lips and a memory of him kissing you flashes in your mind. You crave having his mouth on yours. And more than that.

As if reading your mind, Joel leans to your face and his lips brush your cheek.

“Missed me, baby?”

Your breath hitches and he smirks, “ ‘s what I thought. Tommy may keep your pussy full but we both know how much ya want this cock.”

He bucks his hips into you and a new surge of arousal makes you throb.

Joel’s lips kiss your cheek and then get lower as he latches on your neck, immediately sucking a hickey into your delicate skin, while his hands grab your ass and he pins you to the fridge again.

Yet now you don’t want to escape, to run from him, you welcome his mouth, marking your neck, his hands, getting under your shorts and kneading your ass. He’s groaning, as his lips travel up to your mouth and you readily open yours, welcoming his tongue inside. The kiss is heady, sloppy and hot. He tastes like black coffee, cigarettes and something so uniquely Joel, you can’t get enough of it. Of him.

Your pussy cries to be touched, so you start grinding your mound on his stiff crotch and he smiles against your lips.

“Knew ya hungry for uncle’s dick, little slut.”

You’re not wearing any panties, and when his hand slides under your shorts, he grabs a handful of your tingling pussy, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Fuck, angel, is it all for me or is it Tommy’s cum dripping out?”

You don’t have time to reply, before he pushes two fingers into your soaked hole, and you gasp from the sensation, grabbing his massive arms.

Joel starts fucking your pussy in a steady rhythm, pushing his fingers in and out and rubbing your bud with his thick thumb.

Suddenly he grabs your throat and lightly squeezes it, his hot palm sending chills down your spine.

“I asked you a question, angel.”

“Fuck you, perv,” you bite back with a smirk, as your whole body is revelling in bliss from his hands on your pussy and throat. Joel’s nostrils flare but he smiles. You both know the rules of the game you’re playing. You love when he’s rough with you as much as you love Tommy doting on his precious stepdaughter.

Your heart drops, when you hear footsteps, and you freeze, while Joel is nonchalantly keeps fucking you with his fingers. To your relief, you see Tommy walking into the room and after a surprised ‘the fuck?’ he comes up to you two.

You slightly turn your head to him, Joel’s hand on your throat still keeping you in place. Your stepdad’s expression, worried at first, gets softer when he sees your hazy eyes and parted lips and he gives you a warm smile.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” Tommy asks, while Joel is shamelessly working your cunt.

“Yeah, Daddy,” you whine and Joel chuckles.

“She’s still full of your cum, Tommy. Ya played with her tonight?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replies in a proud voice, “filled her up good. Right, sweetheart?”

You try to nod, which is difficult, as Joel is holding you by the throat.

Tommy bends down and yanks your shorts down, until they pool at your feet. He plants his elbow on the fridge next to you and tilts his head to the side, watching Joel’s glistening fingers slide in and out of your needy hole.

You feel your orgasm coming up and whine a pathetic ‘daddy.’

“Yeah, sweetheart, let it go. Wanna see your pretty face, when you come.” Your stepdad leans closer and kisses you. Joel’s hand lightly squeezes your throat and you breathe in Tommy's air. The hard bulges of your stepdad and step uncle, snugly pressed to your body, Joel’s hands, Tommy’s lips make you throb and you cry out, as your climax sets you ablaze.

“Good girl,” Joel mumbles while Tommy’s kissing you on top of your high. You’re whimpering into his mouth, your pussy squelching, still being finger fucked by Joel. Tommy parts from your lips and watches your face twist in pleasure.

When your orgasm dissipates, Joel pulls out his digits, coated in your creamy cum, and brings them to your mouth.

“Clean up your mess, angel.”

You do as you’re told, licking and slurping on his thick fingers, while his hungry eyes are watching your every move. When you’re done, he pulls them out and grabs your breast.

“Time for your second breakfast.”

He unzips his jeans and you see his cock spring out. His fat tip is glistening and you lick your lips.

Joel chuckles and goes to the table. He sits down on one of the chairs, manspreading and holding his throbbing length in his hand.

Tommy steps up to you and hugs you, his hands quickly finding their way to your bare ass and squeezing your cheeks in his big palms. You nuzzle his neck, leaning on his broad chest after the hard orgasm.

“C’mon, angel. My cock won’t suck itself,” Joel’s gruff voice breaks the silence of the room.

Tommy pulls away, takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up to face him.

“Do you wanna sit on my cock and blow your uncle, baby?”

These depraved words coming from your stepdad, your mother’s husband, make your head spin with lust. You’d do anything for him right now. For both of them.

“Yes, please, daddy,” you whimper and he leads you to the table. Mugs and plates are still left on its surface, making the situation hotter for some reason.

Tommy sits in the chair next to Joel and pulls his gray sweatpants down. They’re already stained with precum and when he takes his cock out, you see it weeping for you.

Joel gets your attention with a slap on your bare ass, growling, “Can’t even suck a dick without your daddy stuffing ya? Needy little slut. Fuckin’ whipped.”

“Don’t be jealous, Joel,” you purr, standing between two men half naked, your inner thighs glistening with your cum in the bright morning light.

“It’s his pussy, but you get to have my mouth and ass which is too generous on my part. You should be grateful.”

“Oh, I am, angel. Let me show you how grateful I am by fuckin’ your pretty face.”

With that he gets up and lays his heavy hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon, time to sit on your daddy’s cock,” he chuckles, and you’re enjoying how impatient he is to feel your mouth.

You get between Tommy’s legs, your back to him and after planting your hand on the table, start lowering your hips. Your stepdad guides you with his hands on your waist and soon you feel his tip nudge at your sopping hole.

With Joel’s cock bobbing in front of your face, you start sinking on Tommy’s length. Your languid moan fills the kitchen as you take him deeper and deeper. Joel’s hand on your shoulder pushes you roughly down and you sit on your stepdad’s cock with a gasp.

“Joel, be gentle,” Tommy scolds his brother and you look up at Joel with a triumphant smile.

Tommy pulls you closer to his torso while your pussy is adjusting to his thickness. He's pulsating inside you as your cunt gushes around his girthy length.

Joel doesn’t give you time to revel in the sensation. He grabs you by the hair, tight but not hurting you, and pulls your face closer to his cock.

His fat wet tip hits your lips and you look up at him with defiance, not taking it in your mouth. You want it, but the opportunity to make him boil is too delicious to miss.

“Can I slap this bitch, brother?” Joel asks Tommy, not tearing his eyes off your smug face.

“I asked you to be gentle, Joel,” Tommy scolds him but your ears perk up.

“But I want it, daddy,” you whine, your lips brushing Joel’s velvet head.

“ ‘k then.”

As soon as Tommy says it, Joel's palm harshly lands on your cheek and you grab the side of the table as your head sways to the left. Tommy’s hands grip your hips harder as he growls,

“Fuck, you do really love it, baby. Your little pussy clenching me so hard.”

“Yeah,” you whimper, rubbing your cheek, while Joel’s fist is still clenching your hair. The slap burns a little and you love it.

“Anytime, angel, we all know you deserve it. Now open your fuckin’ mouth,” Joel commands and you do it with a content gaze.

He pushes his throbbing cock between your lips, and you taste his salty precum. You suck on his head, cockwarming your stepdad.

Your hands are planted on Joel’s hips for stability and you take him deeper into your hot mouth until his tip hits your throat.

“Oh, yeah, angel. Ain’t ya happy I finally let you suck on my dick?”

You hum around his cock and both men chuckle.

“I think it’s a ‘yes’”, Tommy chuckles as his hands squeeze your thighs, then glide up over your belly and then pull your top up. He gently kneads your naked tits, as your whimpers are muffled by your step uncle’s fat cock.

You begin bobbing your head up and down, lips curled over your teeth, saliva dripping down your chin, sliding down to his balls. You try to keep your gaze focused on his face, lust and pleasure painting his features. His blown half-lidded eyes watch you blow him and then lower to enjoy the way Tommy’s playing with your pebbled nipples, twisting and tugging on them. You roll your eyes, dancing on the verge of orgasm from Tommy’s ministrations, his length throbbing deep inside you like the second heartbeat and Joel’s cock filling your mouth. You clench hard around Tommy.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he moans behind you and gently nips at your shoulder, “you’re incredible. Wanna live in your perfect cunt.”

Joel chuckles, “your wife may object.”

No one reacts to his quip, Tommy’s too entranced by your pussy, you’re slurping and gagging on Joel’s member.

He pats your head after a contend groan. “Ahh, doing great, baby. Told ya it’s all ya good for, sucking a cock and sitting on it.”

His warm hand cups your cheek and your eyes lock. “Make her come, Tommy, my little niece deserves it.”

“She does. She’s choking my cock so well.”

“Speaking of choking,” Joel pulls you off his member and you whine.

“Hungry little slut. Don’t worry, ya gonna get your favorite lollipop back. I’m gonna fuck your mouth and ya gonna come on Tommy’s cock, got it?”

You take a deep breath, knowing fully well that Joel won’t spare you, but you nod, biting your lip, “I’ll do my best, daddy,…uncle,” you reply to both of them and the men hum approvingly.

Tommys hands brush your soaked folds, spread open by his cock, filling your core, and his thumb finds your clit, already puffy after Joel’s fingers.

You clench around your stepdad and he moans, “fuck, baby, I won’t last..”

You want to say it’s ok, but Joel already takes your head between his giant palms and pushes his cock back into your mouth. Tommy’s fingers start rubbing, swirling your little clit, while Joel begins fucking your mouth. The roll of his muscular hips is slow at first, merciful, but getting closer to an orgasm, he moves faster and rougher.

His fingers pull at your hair, as his cock plunges into your mouth, hitting your throat again and again. You try to breathe around him, gasping for air any time he lets you, but it’s hard because of how huge he is and you scratch his hips to make him pause.

He pulls you off and slightly slaps your cheek, scolding you, “no scratching, bad kitty.”

You gasp for air and then giggle, being absolutely cock drunk and drowning in the pleasure of having two fat cocks inside you. You feel like you could faint from the ecstasy.

Your core tightens when the flat of Tommy’s palm rubs your whole pussy. He’s rapidly shaking his hand left and right, making your sloppy cunt squelch as you start coming. Joel stuffs your crying out mouth with his cock again, muffling you and fucks deeper, harder into your throat.

You feel yourself like nothing but holes for their cocks, a fuck doll, made solemnly for their pleasure, and the thought makes your pussy pulsate harder.

Your limbs tremble, your whole body jerks with every wave of euphoria. Saliva is drooling down your chin as your pussy coats Tommy’s thighs with your creamy cum.

“Such a good girl for us,” Tommy praises, choking on his words, as he explodes inside you. Loud groans escape his mouth, as he’s painting your walls with his hot cum.

“Yeah, like that, good slut” Joel moans as your lips, tongue and throat are massaging his cock. He starts coming too, his load squirting inside your throat and you drink it all, without any need to swallow.

When your orgasm subsides and they stop pumping their seed into your spent body, Joel takes his cock out of your mouth and you try to catch your breath, leaning against Tommy’s hot chest.

With his cock still inside you, he’s peppering kisses over your shoulders, neck, cheeks while his gentle hands are caressing your body, thanking you for the pleasure you gave him. Joel tucks his cock inside his jeans and plops on the chair. He lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag with a satisfied hum.

Your eyes half-closed, your limbs pleasantly tingling, you’re watching him watch you. You hate how good this handsome fucker makes you feel. He’s an asshole but deep inside you have to admit he’s closer to you than Tommy. Just like you he gets what he wants, no matter the feelings of people you might hurt in the process.

Tommy brings you out of your thoughts, gently turning your head to him to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as he’s hugging you tight, while his cum drips out of your pussy.

Joel interrupts you two after a few seconds by getting up with a grunt.

Tommy and you stop making out and look up at him.

“Can I get a kiss, uncle?” You ask, smiling with a twinkle in your eye. You expect him to refuse tasting his cum on your tongue but he surprises you,

“ ‘course. C’mere,” he motions you to get up with a jerk of his chin, and with widened eyes you get up, as Tommy’s cock slides out of your hole.

Joel pulls your half-naked body to him and wraps his arms around you. Your heart flutters when he’s being so affectionate with you. You can’t help but moan when he presses his lips to yours. Soon he’s licking into your mouth, as you’re melting against his chest.

His lips shift to the side and brush your ear, “thanks for the blowie, angel. One day I’ll return the favor.”

Your spent and used up pussy aches again, imagining him on his knees between your legs.

“Can’t wait,” you whisper back and plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek.

When Joel leaves, Tommy takes you in his arms and carries you to your bedroom. He lays you down on the bed and you roll under the blanket. You fall asleep while he’s caressing your cheekbone with his thumb.

****

You wake up with a jerk. It’s still sunny outside, you must have slept for a couple of hours. Soon you realize the reason for your abrupt awakening. Jess is screeching downstairs. You hear Tommy’s voice too, he’s not as loud as her but he’s definitely trying to over shout your mother.

You’ve heard them arguing before but not as bad as now. You furrow your brows and chew on your lip, still staying in bed.

Listening to them, by habit you grab your phone and check notifications. There’re a few messages from your friends, a missed call from your grandma, and then you see it.

A set of instant messages in your family chat.

The last one from Joel Miller.

You wonder why the fuck he’s in your family group chat at all and then your heart freezes and you start feeling nauseous when you open the last message. It’s a photo.

Of Tommy sitting on the bed in the master bedroom and you straddling him. Both of you are naked. It was shot from the back so your faces are not visible but it’s clearly you two.

Your hands start shaking and you drop your phone, that almost hits your terrified face.

You’re lying for a few long moments almost motionless, while a whirlwind of emotions is swirling in your stomach and your mind is screaming, trying to decide what to do now.

There’s only one way out.

Out.

You get up, put on some clothes and hastily start packing. You take whatever you see and throw it into your suitcase. Then you pad downstairs and sneak out of the house, fortunately, not getting caught by anyone.

Soon you’re walking along the street, with the luggage behind you, running away from the place you definitely can’t call home anymore. Your heart is pounding in your ears, though a part of you feels free, free of your mother, free of the old life. Fuck her. You call your friend and ask if you can crash at her place. She says ‘yes’ and offers to pick you up at the nearest bus stop. While you’re waiting for her, you look at the family chat again.

The fear that you felt before gives way to anger. You’re so mad at Joel, your eyes well up with tears and you wanna scream and break things. Just when you thought that your step uncle believed your promises, he goes and pulls this shit?!

With trembling fingers, you find an audio recording on your phone and send it to Tommy, mumbling under your breath,

‘Thought you could fuck me over like that, asshole? Let’s see who gets fucked now.’

The message to your stepdad goes through and you press ‘play’ and in the quiet of the suburban street you hear Joel’s gruff voice, telling you the plan of getting Tommy move back to Austin, “step one, angel - we record my little brother sayin’ that he wants to fuck ya…”

*****

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic💖 it motivates me to write more filth for you wonderful people😘 and I’d love to hear your thoughts/thots/ideas. What’s gonna happen next? 👀

Part 4 || SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @ratoonstown @tammythr @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @talaok

Tommy tag @huskyfox5

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #tommy x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fan fiction #bad blood series #joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller x reader x Tommy miller #Joel x you x Tommy #Joel x reader #joel fic #joel fanfiction

[muffinsin]

after reading all your hc's I have never seen a date one maybe you did idk if not could you make some head canons on it. I just want to know what these women like to do and how they spend dates with S/O weather or summer.

Maybe some smut one and fluffy one ???

Idk I just really want to go on a date with them !!!!!!!

As always have a good day!

Y’all- I’m hella surprised I haven’t done date HCs yet despite writing of so many dates! XD Thanks, hon! Have a great day too🙌 Let’s get into it

Keeping this fluffy for now because the Valentine’s Day post I did was rather similar in the date + smut aspect

Masterlists (NEW- Masterlist 6)

Bela

She didn’t think she’d ever find the time for dating, really

At at first, she didn’t

At first, despite being your partner, she had little time for dates and quality time together

And she didn’t even notice, until you brought it up for her

This is something she never fails to praise you for

Really, the day you spoke up about this and she heard, and felt, the pain in your words, she swore to change this habit

And change it she did!

Bela makes sure to schedule blocks of spare time between her work to ensure she can take you out on dates, check up on you, or simply be with you for a little while

She looks forward to it each day

In turn, this is a way for you to ensure she takes breaks and eats

Often, the two of you retreat to a quiet part of the castle

Sometimes this is her room, sometimes her office even, sometimes the hall of ablution

When the weather grants it, Bela loves to take you outside for a date in the gardens

While scowling at the mud, the ground, the grass and bugs ironic, huh? she agrees to picnic dates with you

She sits relatively still, hissing and snarling at every little bug, every ant, even her own flies, as they get too close to her

Still, she appreciates the time she gets to spend with you. So what are a few bugs and dirt here and there?

She’ll drag her fingertip lightly across some flowers as she talks

In time, she picks up on how to braid them into a crown, something she’d never admit Daniela taught her

As such, the two of you often paint the following scene:

You, sat or sprawled out on the blanket, smiling as you talk and tell her of your day

Bela, your ethereal, almost goddess-like lover, her blonde hair nearly shining in the sun as she watches you and takes in every word you speak

She likes to ask questions, just to have you talk a little while longer

In return, it makes your heart ache happily when you are proven with each question that she pays attention to your words

By the end of your rants, she usually has a flower crown set up on your head

On rainy days, she likes to get set up in the bedroom with you

With candles lit and about that cause her room to smell just wonderful. The fireplace lit, granting it a nice atmosphere and warm, comfortable air

Often, this means reading together

At other times, usually when the rain causes the temperature to drop a little, she likes to curl up in your arms like an overgrown cat and spread out on top of you or your lap

You giggle each time it happens, secretly enjoying how cuddly the rain outside the warmth and safety of the castle seems to make your girlfriend

Often, she likes to spend indoor dates in her room by tending to hobbies together, or taking time to read together

She wants to actively do something together on dates, she wants to make you feel special

And she never fails at this

Cassandra

Dating?

Her?

Truthfully, she used to dream of the concept. The love. The happiness. The dreaminess

Yet, life has disappointed her

Too much betrayal, too much pain, too much emotion, too little emotion

Eventually, she decides dating is not for her

Even as her heart burns with envy as she watches her younger sister’s grin when she talks of her dates

How come Daniela gets this, and not her?

How come she can only bring herself to care for mindless sex rather than real connection?

Then, she meets you

And all changes

She is reluctant to open up to dating, at first

While being the bold one in most situations, she is not the one making the first step this time

Instead, she finds herself feeling incredibly surprised when you ask her out the first time

She’s nervous, a rare occurrence for her

And yet, she realises she loves the experience!

She becomes more confident eventually, begins to understand the concept of dating, even

She wants to start taking you out, too

At first, she goes with the usual approach, the type of dates she knows from Daniela’s tales

Library dates, that turn to Cassandra nearly falling asleep each time

Picnic dates, that turn to some prey or noise in the distance pulling her attention

Eventually she figures out- this isn’t any good

She tries a new approach, then. She invites you along as she visits the duke for weapons, and keeps you by her side as she wanders off into the forest to try some of them out

She talks, and laughs, and notices you do the same

The two of you still end up having a somewhat picnic date, with you sitting while she is pacing and rambling, a large smile on her face, her attention only on you even as the keen huntress catches every little noise in the distance

From then on, dates often are the following;

Picnics in the forest as the weather allows it, otherwise in her large bed. Usually she will ramble of something, or drink her blood-wine and stare wide eyed as she takes in whatever story you are telling her of

Others might consist of something a little more unhinged, some would say

Often, she invites you along to watch and help her torture naughty prisoners. She thinks it’s romantic

Should you ever agree, she will be over the moons. She never presses it, though

At other times, she invites you to train with her, wielding several weapons and swinging them at one another; you, wrapped in several layers of protection, her, giggling madly if you ever manage to do as much as graze her with a blade

And lastly, she does enjoy herself dates in the opera hall occasionally, when the castle is quiet and all have gone to bed, and she gets to bask in your presence

Sometimes, she will absently hum a tune, her mind accustomed to singing in this place from the time she was taught by her mother

At other times, she likes to bask in the silence and warmth of the room and simply sit or lay on the stage with you

She enjoys spending time with you, and likes to invite you to spontaneous dates to do just that

Daniela

She loves dating! And romance, and love, and spending time together

Out of her family, she’s been on the most dates. Even added up too, probably

She’s been in and out of relationships before you nearly constantly, chasing what seemed so very far out of reach for her

Then, you came along

And with you, true love

She loves to take you out on dates, and gets equally giddy when you ask her out on one

Her favorites are ones in the library or the forest, should the temperatures allow it

She likes to read her favorite books together, perhaps even read one paragraph each, or recite one line of a character each in a play she enjoys

Often, she “kidnaps” you and snatches you away from whatever you’re doing to take you out on a date instead

She rarely cares about what you were doing, whether you were in the middle of a conversation, working, or out on a walk, she rarely pays attention to it

But how could you be upset with her for long, when her smile is so very wide and her happy, big eyes and loud, buzzing flies remind you of an excited puppy?

Usually, she also brings snacks to your library dates

Little treats stolen from the kitchen or the rooms of some unfortunate maid or family member

And lastly, she likes to bring a flower with her

A gift, for you

Of course, library dates are not the only ones on her list of ideas

In fact, Daniela loves making use of the nearby opera hall as well

Being a talented singer, dancer and piano player, she loves to indulge in all three activities with you

At times, she might sing or hum a long as the two of you sit and play piano

At other times, she loves to play dress up, to steal Alcina’s large and expensive dresses, to snatch the few that Bela owns

Often, she asks you to dress up with her

When doing so, her mind often wanders to fairytales and fantasy far-away lands

Only your praise of how beautiful she looks can bring her back to the present, together with a wide, happy smile

And lastly, of course, she loves to have sleepovers, some which she also considers dates

She likes to show off her room and soft, spacious bed

She’ll practically cover you in her stuffed animals as she introduces all of them to you, one after another

As the day goes on and night approaches, she gets more and more cuddlier

In the evening already you feel her on your lap, curled up and buzzing happily as she talks or listens to your voice

Of course, at night, she only ever tucks herself closer to you

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #resident evil village

[howtotwirlaknife22]

Hi, could you write a Hesh x Fem reader fluff based on this? 🥺👉👈 (kinda would be cool if reader was single yk 👀) tysm!!

Hi!!! I’m just now seeing this ask I’m sosososos sorry 😭😭😭 yes yes ofc I will write this (this is so funny lmao)!

.

.

.

.

.

That’s not mine?

David “Hesh” Walker x Fem!Reader

Summary: you found a jacket thinking it was your boyfriends and you thought it was the most comfortable thing you’ve ever worn, so you decided to play around and wear it until he noticed.

Warnings: Slight NSFW scene, mostly fluff

You and Hesh had been living together for about 3 months, and things were going pretty smooth so far. You were both able to coordinate your lives around one another pretty well and you knew how to handle a set chore schedule also. Your active bedroom life was definitely a plus as well. It was a lazy Sunday, and you had decided to finally take care of the pile of laundry that had been building up in the bathroom hamper. As you entered the bathroom, you navigated your way around some scattered sink parts and tools, as you had a repairman over to fix your sink since there was something wrong with the pump. Hesh had whined about you calling one in the first place since he swore up and down he could fix it, but after 3 tries and the bathroom nearly flooding after the last failed attempt, you caved and called the landlord to get someone over as fast as possible. You made your way to your hamper and rested it on your hip as you collected stray articles of clothing that had fallen from it. You noticed a dark black hoodie slung over the shower curtain rod and you raised an eyebrow, not noticing the hoodie. You knew Hesh’s closet pretty well, given that you both shared one. But this was new. And it smelled…good. You grabbed the hoodie and smirked as you placed it on top of the other clothes and made your way to your laundry room, quickly tossing the load of laundry into the washing machine and holding the hoodie out in front of you. You knew the repairman wouldn’t be back for another 4 hours, and Hesh should be home in the next 30 minutes or so. He had gone out to get groceries for the next week so he had been at the store for the last half hour. You decided that you were going to give him a fun little surprise for when he got back, so you stripped yourself down and tossed your lounge clothes and undergarments into the washer as slid his hoodie on. You started up the washer and made your way back to your shared bedroom, slipping under the covers and waiting for him to return.

A few minutes later you heard the front door open, and you smirked to yourself in anticipation as you heard his footsteps creeping closer towards the bedroom. You saw the door creak open and your boyfriend stood in the doorway, smiling at you.

“Hey babe, I’m back.” His eyes scanned your body that was half covered by the covers and the other half covered by a hoodie. He raised an eyebrow at the hoodie when he saw it. You began to shift out from under the covers and his breath was caught in his throat before he could say anything about it as he saw your bare legs come up to your chest.

“Hey, don’t mind me..I was just doing some laundry, and I found one of your old hoodies. Thought I’d make the most of the load and just..use this as a cover instead.” You smirked and pulled the hood off of your head, gesturing for him to come closer. He obeyed, and leaned down to kiss you passionately. You hummed against his lips as you felt a calloused hand make its way from your ankle and all the way up your leg to your thigh. You let out a sigh against his lips and pulled away with a devious smirk. “How about you get me out of this hoodie, and come under the covers with me?” Hesh’s eyes were blown out with lust, and he nodded as he reached for his belt. He couldn’t stop thinking about the hoodie though. When did he get this? He didn’t recognize it at all. It wasn’t until he was fully stripped and reaching for the hem of the hoodie that he noticed a little logo on the bottom: “Sparky’s electric and plumbing”. His eyes went wide and he looked up at you. Your cheeks were rosy and your eyes were also blown out. You cocked and eyebrow at him and tilted your head. “Is something wrong?” You asked. Hesh couldn’t help himself and began to laugh, letting go of the shirt as more giggled broke out from him. You gave him a puzzled look and furrowed your brows. “What? What is it?” Hesh was now full on cackling and wheezing as you crossed your arms, growing more frustrated with the situation as he continued to laugh. “David Walker! What the hell are your laughing at! I swear if you don’t tell me right now!” You scolded him as he was now on the ground laughing. Hesh took a moment to breath and catch his breath before he leaned against the edge of the bed on his elbows.

“Babe, that’s not my hoodie…that’s the repair guys hoodie. Look at the logo.” He pointed to it and all the color drained out of your face.

“It’s not…yours?” You questioned, feeling your cheeks start to burn up in embarrassment.

Hesh took a deep breath and wiped a stray tear from his eye as he had finally managed to stop laughing.

“Nope. Not mine.” He smirked and grabbed the hem of the hoodie again. “But, maybe we should get you out of it because of that, yeah? Can’t have my girl walking around wearing someone else’s clothes now can we?” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Just wouldn’t be a good look…now my ACTUAL clothes, that’s a good look on you.” He teased you gently as he yanked the hoodie over your red face, stripping you down completely.

A few hours later, you had taken the hoodie back into the bathroom, and you were thankful the repairman wasn’t back yet. You slung it over the shower curtain just as you had found it and got out of the bathroom as quickly as possible, feeling embarrassed by the whole situation. You knew Hesh was going to hang this over your head for a long time, but you were happy that he wasn’t mad about it. You and Hesh had been cuddling on the couch for a few hours when the repairman finally did come back to fix your sink. Your face felt hot and you could almost feel the smirk on Hesh’s face. You refused to look at either of them and instead chose to focus on the TV show in front of you. At least, you were focusing until you heard the repairman from the bathroom.

“Why does my hoodie smell like perfume?”

You placed your face in your hands and you could feel Hesh’s body cracking up with laughter once again. At least now, you had one of Hesh’s actual hoodies you could wear. And this time, you made sure to ask him for one directly.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Taglist: I’m always shit at making the Taglist, so please comment if you want to be added to it so I can copy and paste users for it!

Inbox is open, send in your Ghosts requests! 💌

#cod hesh headcannons #hesh #hesh x reader #cod hesh #hesh hivemind🍯 #hesh walker x reader #hesh cod #david hesh walker #hesh walker #call of duty ghosts #call of duty headcanons #cod x reader #cod ghosts #cod ghosts fic #cod ghosts headcannons

[amongemeraldclouds]

How Theodore Nott looks at you when

Part two, based on this request | 632 words | Masterlist

…you’re academic rivals and Theo is about to leave the country for a student exchange program.

Theo: I can’t believe you came. You: Don’t flatter yourself, Nott. I’m just here to watch you leave and tell you something. Theo: Finally ready to confess your undying love for me? You: I’m actually here to — Theo: I have to catch my flight. It’s now or never because I like you too, okay? Just thought you should know that before I disappear for a year. You: Ah actually, I was going to say that I also applied for the program and got in last minute. So surprise! I’m coming with you! Theo: Oh so — You: You just embarrassed yourself, yes. Theo: Well — You: No, it’s too late! No take backs! Theo: You can’t — You: Fine. I like you too, okay?

…you’re spending a lazy Sunday afternoon together (new relationship, shy!reader).

You: so I think that we should… *Theo looks at you and your mind goes blank.* Theo: yes, amore? You: I…look away! Then I’ll remember what I was saying. Theo: Come on principessa, how are we going to be in a relationship if I can’t even look at you? You: It’s your fault. Why are you so gorgeous? Theo: *laughs* This better? *he makes an ugly face* You: *slaps Theo* Stop, you still look so pretty. Ugh it’s not fair! Theo: Let’s practice then. Just keep looking at me until your thoughts return. We’ll stay here as long as it takes.

…you’re enemies and he asked you to dance at the Yule Ball after he noticed your date ditched you.

You: Are you sick? Should I take you to the hospital wing? Theo: Ha, funny. Come on, it will be fun! You: What’s in it for you? Theo: The chance to dance with a beautiful girl. You: Are you trying to be nice? I think I’m the one feeling sick. Theo: Don’t get used to it. Cara mia, it’s a magical night, let’s forget we’re enemies for a few hours. You: I think I can manage that, but only for a few hours. Any longer and people might think we like each other. Theo: Wouldn’t want to ruin our reputation.

Of course everyone else already knew you like each other except for you two dummies.

…you’re having dinner with your best friend.

You: They ran out of copies at the bookstore *sigh* Theo: Oh bella, what would you do without me? You: What did you do? Theo: *hands you a paper bag* I reserved the book and got it for you. You: Theo! This is amazing! I could kiss you right now! Theo: Then do it. You: … Theo: Don’t let anyone stop you from getting what you want. Not even yourself. You: We’re talking about the book, right?

…you’re watching him perform with his band (rockband!AU).

You watched the boy singing on stage. To you he was the stranger you couldn't stop thinking about. You were walking on a crowded street, rushing home just like everyone else when you bumped into him.

The impact sent you falling to the floor if it weren’t for his quick reflexes. You beamed and thanked him. He was gorgeous with his intense gaze that held stories you could read for hours. His hair so wonderfully curly, you wanted to run your hands through them.

But you weren’t going to touch a stranger’s hair and be a creep. So hesitantly, you wished him a good day and walked on.

You were so glad you found him again, eating here at this restaurant with your friends. He was singing a new song:

A bustling sidewalk, a busy street A chance encounter in summer heat You fell in slow motion, fate’s work of art I took your hand, you stole my heart

What are the odds he saved other strangers from falling on crowded sidewalks?

He smiled when he saw you and his eyes said everything you needed to know.

✿ Masterlist

#theodore nott fluff #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fic #theodore nott headcanons #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott #slytherin boys #theo nott x reader #theo nott #amongemeraldcloudswrites #amongemeraldclouds fluff

[slippinmickeys]

For your amazing POL universe, if you ever feel so inclined, how does Emily find out about the way her parents met?

Her parents have always been open about how they met–the ink spilled breathlessly telling the story of their capture and rescue was not exactly something you could keep quiet–but it is something they never really talk about with their children. 

Emily has always thought the picture that hangs in her parents bedroom–the black and white photo of her mother staring out the window of a hotel room, the light knifing across her eyes, her bare shoulder in shadow–was artful and pretty. She knows what the certificate next to it means, too. She knows it is a big deal. But it isn’t until now, until fifth grade, that she thinks to look at it with a more careful eye. 

It isn’t until now that she notices the hollow beneath her mother’s cheekbones, the greasy string of her hair, the somewhat desperate, wide look to the sclera of her mother’s eyes. 

She hears whispers at school, Did you know…? but no one has been brave enough to ask her about it outright. Though she did once overhear a seventh grader saying to Franky Edgerton “…I bet their house has like, bars for doors. Like a jail, you know? I bet they get off on it.” 

She wasn’t exactly sure what the seventh grader meant, but knows it isn’t good. Franky’s eyes went wide when Emily came around the corner. Franky used to have a crush on her. Now Franky avoids her gaze. 

“What cha up to, Pip?” comes her mother’s bright voice from behind her, using the nickname she’s had since she can remember. Emily jumps a little and turns to see her mother standing in the bedroom doorway, a full basket of folded laundry resting on her hip.

“Sorry,” says her mom with a small smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” Emily says, turning back to the photo on the wall. “I’m just looking at pictures.”

“I see that,” Dana Scully says gently, coming into the room and setting the laundry basket on the bed. Emily can feel her hovering behind her. 

“Grandma says you shouldn’t have this picture hanging in the house, even though it won an important prize,” Emily finally says, turning to her mother. It’s an opening salvo to see if her mother will actually talk to her or shut her down. She feels a little bit brave and a little bit reckless.

“I can see your grandma saying that,” her mom says evenly. “Though I’m surprised she said it to you.”

Emily shrugs. “She said it to Uncle Bill.”

“Ah,” her mom says with understanding. Then, “And what do you think about that picture?”

Emily feels a thrumming bit of excitement. Maybe a little apprehension. She turns back to it. It’s easier, somehow, to look at the picture right now than it is to look at her mom in the flesh. 

“I think…” she starts. “I think you look scared in it. I never noticed it before, but I think you look scared.” Her mom lowers herself to sit on the bed. “Were you scared when Daddy took it?”

At this, her mom nods softly. “Yes,” she answers. “But not of him.”

Behind her, the bed creaks gently as her mother shifts. 

“What do you know about that picture, Emily?” she goes on. 

Pip is no longer in use. Not even Em. Emily, her mother says. This is now a serious, adult conversation, and she wants to be serious and adult-like herself. 

Still, she has to muster a little courage to respond. 

“You and Daddy were held prisoner,” she finally says, turning back to her mom.

“That’s right.”

“In Africa.”

Her mother nods. 

“And you got rescued by the Navy.”

Her mother nods a little more slowly, but Emily can feel that the conversation isn’t over. She’s allowed to ask questions if she wants. 

“You were held in the same room. You didn’t know each other.” She feels a little more brave when her mom answers. 

“Yes, that’s right.”

“That would be scary,” Emily says, looking down and away. A month ago, she’d been walking to the park with a couple of friends when a man leaned out of his car and catcalled them. They’d all looked at each other and giggled, but it was an uncomfortable laugh, and Emily recognizes that same, dawning feeling of wariness now. 

Her mother reaches forward and pulls on her sleeve, urging Emily to sit next to her. She tucks a lock of Emily’s hair behind her ear.

“Your daddy was there first,” her mother says. “And when I walked into that room, he wasn’t scary at all. He made a joke about the room service being bad. And do you know what else he did?”

Emily shakes her head and raises her eyes to meet her mother’s

“He took my picture,” Scully says with a smile. 

Emily chuffs a small laugh. “That sounds like Dad.”

The moment settles things between them, and they sit in silence, both of them eventually looking back up at the photo. 

“Do you want to know what I see when I look at that picture?” Her mother asks her quietly. 

“What?” Emily asks after a moment, her voice coming out like a whisper. 

“I see a brave woman who endured a scary thing.”

Emily glances up at her mom’s face, the angle the same as from the photograph. She looks different now, Emily thinks. Older, yes, but also stronger, more self-assured. Happy. 

“And do you know what I feel when I look at that picture?” 

Emily is suddenly desperate to know. So desperate, she can’t put a voice to it. 

Her mother turns to her, leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“I feel the love Daddy felt for me when he snapped that photograph. And his love has only grown since.”

Emily turns back to the picture. 

“Do you feel it too, Pip?” her mother’s voice is soft. Strong. 

“Yes,” Emily breathes. And she does. 

“That’s why it’s on the wall, Em.” Her mom stands, runs her fingers through her daughter’s hair a few times, and then grabs the laundry basket, ducking quietly out of the room.

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #au #prompt #proof of life universe

[esta-elavaris]

Prologue [771 words]

Jane Eyre inspired Aemond Targaryen fic (except there's no wife in the attic - only Vizzy T and his miniatures) -- I've been meaning to write this for ages and now with the new season around the corner my brain said it is time.

It's not on AO3 for now but I do have a whole load of other fics over there!

Let me know if you wanna be tagged when I update this 💜

Brambles tore through her sleeves, and then her arms, as Jeyne tumbled to the ground. The shadow above took an impossibly long while to pass – but Vhagar was the largest dragon living, and the fear that seized her drew out the seconds into eternities. Was it that same fear, she wondered, that had her thinking she could even hear her name, cried out into the wind? It had to be. He had no cause to call for her that way…nor at all. The last time he’d spoken to her – the last time she knew for a fact that she’d heard his voice – he made that more than clear.

“What did you expect? That we’d marry? That you’d carry my heirs? You? A servant? One of your birth would hardly be fit to have my bastards, should I have been so foolish as to spawn any.”

He hadn’t looked at her, as he said it. No, his eye had been fixed steadily – coldly – on the wall behind her head. That fact had given her the strength to ask what she did.

“Why are you saying this? Why are you talking like this, Aemond? I thought…you said…you don’t mean-”

At that, he had looked at her, violet eye steely, wide with outrage that she would dare disagree with him.

“You forget yourself,” he’d sneered. “Along with how one of your birth should refer to a prince.”

And there had been such disdain in his face, so much that it seeped into his voice, that her blood ran cold and she felt sick to her stomach, blinking hard against the tears that stung her eyes. That look left her without doubt as to what she was hearing. Most of all, it left her mortified that she was even surprised.

Jeyne had not been able to feel her legs as she sank into a curtsey and managed to force out a strained, reedy forgive me, your grace, her eyes downcast.

“You’re dismissed. I’m sure my sister can find some use for you – I myself cannot.”

That was it. Those were the last words Prince Aemond Targaryen had spoken to her. The last ones he would ever speak to her. Nothing within them could leave any room for misunderstanding, even had Jeyne been the fool he’d treated her as. And while she was much – obscure, plain, and little, all at once – she was no halfwit. A halfwit would have remained in the Red Keep thereafter.

No, by now the Princess Helaena would have found her parting letter, and if any were looking for her, they’d look to the Kingsroad – northwards, where she’d come from, long before she was called to King’s Landing. Not among the brambles, aimless through a wilderness that would lead to either the Reach, or to death. She cared not which. But it had been days, now, with water only when luck graced her, and food not at all. It was becoming clear what possibility was the more likely.

Senses heightened by hunger, the cold of the evening bit at her fingers as she dug them into the dirt as if clinging to the ground would help her further escape notice. It gave her something, anything, to cling to, at least. And Vhagar was as like to spot a mouse as she was to spot her, all the way up there.

I myself cannot…

You forget yourself…

What did you expect?

The three parts that had hurt the most to hear – the ones that drove the blade deeper and deeper into her chest until it threatened to pierce through to her back – were the ones that she replayed in her head, over and over. It was a willing exercise, not quite because she hoped that repeating them would remove their edge, but because he’d been right. What had she expected? To anticipate it ending any way other than precisely how it had ended was the height of stupidity.

Perhaps she was a halfwit, after all.

A long while had passed, and the rush of Vhagar’s wings was well out of earshot, when it even occurred to her that she should move. She could no longer feel the cold – a fact that she dully acknowledged was dangerous in the back of her mind, but could find little energy to care about.

She would move in a moment. A few minutes. She just needed to collect herself first –  and to be sure that he was truly gone. That tactic made the most sense. No doubt the feeling would soon return to her limbs, and she could continue.

By the time she heard footfalls drawing near, it didn’t even occur to her to open her eyes.

#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen/oc #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen

[midwestmade29]

Frustrated 😏

Feral mode was activated tonight...that's all I have to say 😂🫣

Word count: 838 Divider by: @saradika-graphics *GIF is not mine

Disclaimers: Unprotected sex. Read at your own discretion 🤷🏻‍♀️

Jay comes home in a foul mood and decides you're the one to help him relieve his frustrations...

You knew when Jay got home, he would likely be in a sour mood after the night he had. BCG defended their trios titles only to be attacked afterwards by the next set of men looking to steal their shiny gold belts. He’s a well calculated man, always one step ahead of everyone and not easily surprised. From what you could tell on tv, he seemed fine physically, but you knew his ego had taken a big hit.

You were in the laundry room when you heard the familiar sound of a roaring engine pull into the garage. Just as you turned around, Jay surprised you when he stood in the doorway.

“Hi love, how are-” you tried to say in greeting, but Jay cut your words off when he closed the gap between the two of you and crashed his lips against yours.

He picked you up and sat you on top of the washer with a thud, eyeing you hungrily once the kiss was broken. Your body flushed from the intensity of his gaze.

“Are you okay? You asked breathlessly.

He placed his pointer finger over your lips to silence you, the words he spoke next making you gasp slightly against it, “Ah, ah, ah love, no talking. I’m sure you saw the night me and the boys had, and it’s left me feeling a bit, troubled. Now, are you going to be good for me and let me have my way with you? I can assure you tonight I have no plans to be gentle,”

While you knew Jay wasn’t set out to hurt you, the thought of him using your body in any way he needed caused your arousal to increase tenfold. He lowered his finger from your lips, and you nodded slowly.

In the blink of an eye, his lips were on yours once more, his hands doing everything they could to remove your clothes as fast as possible. The groan he let out when you palmed his hard length through his pants was damn near animalistic and primal.

“Hop off and turn around,” Jay instructed firmly. You did as you were told, leaning over the washer and anticipating what was to happen next. Your bare ass was instantly met with the sting of a hard spank from his hand. A jolt of excitement went through every fiber of your being making you practically beg for another.

“More,” your request breathy. Jay rubbed the sensitive area before striking it again. When you moaned his name, you heard him shuffling behind you.

“I’ve barely been home 10 minutes and look how ready you are for me. So wet and your skin is turning the most beautiful colors. I’d hold onto something if I were you love,”

Your legs nearly gave away when you felt Jay rub the tip of his cock all around your clit. His pre cum and your own arousal allowed him to glide with ease as he teased you like that for a few moments before positioning himself at your entrance. When he pushed himself all the way inside of you, it nearly took your breath away.

Your back arched from the sudden fullness, a whine escaping your lips as your walls were forced to adjust to Jay. He pulled back until his tip was the only thing resting inside of you before thrusting again just as hard. He grabbed your hair and pulled as he leaned over you and whispered, “I’m not playing nice tonight, love. You’ll be sore in the morning,”

It felt as if with every thrust Jay buried himself deeper and deeper inside of you. The sound of his hips connecting with your backside filled the room along with your moans and whimpers. He kept your hair in his fist while his free hand gripped your shoulder. The pressure that had built up in your core was ready to be released, Jay taking notice instantly.

“I feel what your body is telling me, but I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want, sweet girl,”

You barely recognized your own voice when you cried out, “I-I want to cum, Jay! S-so badly,”

When he circled his thumb around your clit, you were done for. Your walls tightened around Jay before starting to contract as your orgasm ripped through you. He didn’t let up on his pace as he fucked you through your release, quickly finding his own. His hot seed filled you, his breathless grunts vibrating off your shoulder blades when he collapsed on your back.

Your hands gripped the top of the washer to help steady your shaky legs while Jay pulled himself out of you. He turned you around to face him and he kissed you more gently than earlier. He picked you up and carried you bridal style right to the bathroom and began running a hot bath for the both of you to enjoy. Hopefully the heat from the water would soothe some of the soreness you were already starting to feel.

#jay white #switchblade jay white smut #switchblade jay white #aew #all elite wrestling #fanfiction #aew fanfiction #fanfic #aew fanfic #aew smut #jay white fanfiction #jay white imagine #jay white smut #jay white x reader #switchblade jay white x you #switchblade era #switchblade jay white x reader #king switch #jay white x you

[vaporvipermedia]

@hebidanshi has just informed me how Kei most definitely has autism…and you know what?…He has a point.

#i let him cook and he grilled me a nice medium rare steak #I’m surprised i did not notice until now #i swear im slow lmao #kei yoshihiko #viper is rambling again

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … NANAMI KENTO & Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 429k views

⁺ 🧃　 ♡ ₊﹒ ⌣

꩜: actor!nanami x actress!reader

⤷ a short compilation of y/n & nanami moments!

sfw, fluff, accidental kisses, ooc nanami kinda

. art credits to @/osusiudon on twitter

masterlists

*

౨ৎ first clip

“whereee is nanamiiii?” you whine, filming yourself as you walk around the set, trying to find your favourite cast member. you walk through a door. “nanamiii-oh there he is..”

you look surprised and then you tell the camera, “shhhh..nanami is asleep..”

you tiptoe towards where he lays passed out on a couch with his costume goggles right beside him. you turn the camera around to face nanami, his mouth agape as little snores passed through.

“awwww.. he looks so cute..”

you put the camera close to his face, making nanami look funny. “haha..i’m so keeping this-”

nanami snorts suddenly and shifts in a rapid movement, shocking you and making you drop your phone on his poor face.

“ahh!” you cry. fumbling ensues before you get your camera upright again, pointing it at a now awake, disappointed looking nanami, sitting up on the couch as he stares at you blankly. his hair is messy, tie askew and his eyes tired.

“sorry nanami…did i wake you??”

“…”

“…”

nanami sighs and rubs his eyes. “i don’t know _____. did you barge in here, record me and drop your phone on my face?”

“…oops?”

nanami stares at you some more and then you pat his head in apology.

“sorry, nanamin…”

he sighs again. “why are you like this…”

౨ৎ second clip

the paparazzi secretly filmed you and nanami exiting a store (which they had followed you both to). now of course, fans criticised said paparazzi, but after seeing the video themselves…they couldn’t be all that sad about it.

you and nanami walk out of the automatic doors, arms linked and nanami carries the shopping bag.

you’re eating your little treat, strolling with nanami to the sidewalk when he points to your shoes, noticing that your laces are undone.

he speaks and you just shrug, continuing to eat, uncaring of your unlaced shoes that are a hazard.

nanami has you hold the grocery bag temporarily and then kneels down and ties your laces securely, all the while you chew on your food and smile down at him.

he stands up and takes the bag from you to carry once more. you inaudibly talk before linking arms with him again and resting your head on his shoulder while you both walk away.

౨ৎ third clip

the director yells cut and you are immediately running towards nanami and throwing your arms around his shirtless waist, careful to avoid the very intricate, realistic body paint covering half of his body.

“nanami! please don’t dieeeee!” you cry, looking up at him, “who’s going to be my emotional support actor?”

nanami huffs and pats your back, “_____…i won’t disappear..i’ll still be on the set…”

“it’s not the same!” you grumble into his chest. “it’s like you died for real!”

“no it’s not. i’ll visit everyday until this series ends.”

“really?” you look up at him, eyes glossy, “you better not be lying. promise?”

“yes, i promise.” he sighs fondly.

“okay..”

still hugging him, you turn to look at the camera and blatantly check out his shredded torso and thick, strong arms. nanami just stands there, confused.

you rest your head on one of his pecs, looking at the camera and smiling. “i get to do this everyday, you know.”

nanami scoffs and shakes his head at you. you are unbelievable.

౨ৎ fourth clip

you and the a few members of the cast of jujutsu kaisen had agreed to play a game of “silent library”for charity and nanami had agreed to play too, which shocked both the cast and the fans considering nanami rarely participated in games like this.

nanami has struck luck so far but it runs out on the sixth round.

the cards are handed out and suspense rises when you all quickly flip them over.

you groan out loud before slapping a hand over your mouth when you see that you’ve received the death card.

looking around, you notice that nanami and gojo also share the same card, and you point at them confused, while the members who are safe sigh in relief and thank god.

nanami closes his eyes and gojo slumps in his chair dramatically, making a weak noise in his mouth. you snort. you’re quickly hushed.

the name of the game is presented, “suck and blow”, and poorly stifled chuckles ring around the room. you rub your eyes, already dreading what’s about to come.

gojo eyes you, making a come hither motion with his long finger and swear at him silently. nanami is silent and looks between the two of you blankly.

the aim of the game? all three players must pass plastic card between them with only their lips.

your head falls onto the table, gojo is grinning and nanami is, as always, sighing.

the three of you sit on stools, with yourself insisting on being in the middle.

“i could’ve sworn i’ve had a dream just like this…” gojo whispers and nanami is leaning all the way around to smack the back of his head. gojo gasps and utahime scolds at him to shut his mouth.

the plastic card is given to gojo and the timer begins. he sucks it to his lips, cheeks hollow and he looked very stupid. gojo grabs your head and presses the card to your lips, making it seem like you are both kissing. you grunt and begin smacking the side of his face. suppressed laughter can be heard around you as you forcefully pull away from gojo.

you purse your lips, holding the plastic card on them as best as you can and turning to face nanami. he leans in, ready to get this over with.

it happened so fast.

nanami’s face is close to yours as you move to transfer the plastic card to his lips..and then the card falls.

it falls and you’re kissing nanami for half a second.

you gasp and pull back, embarrassed and covering your face.

you hear a squeal, a loud gasp and shocked laughter as you drown in shame. nanami sits there, fiddling, not knowing what to do with his hands and his face is clearly pink.

gojo teases you both to no end and the timer is already up.

it’s safe to say you all lost that round.

౨ৎ fifth clip

nanami is forced to go on a talk show (as he claims his manager made him do it ).

his responses are perfect and polite - nanami clearly has some sort of media training or an upper class background of some sort. it’s like nothing could catch him off guard whatsoever.

nanami is talking and then, the host interrupts. “are you and _____ dating?”

the audience chuckles and nanami is caught off guard. “wh-what?” nanami breathes out, a blush rising from his neck to his cheeks. “what?”

“are you and _____ dating?”

“no…” nanami clears his throat, gulping, “no of course not…”

“what do you mean “of course not?” do you not like _____?”

“what? of course i like-” nanami cuts himself off with a deep sigh and the crowd laughs at his embarrassment and fluster. “_____…_____ is a lovely woman, she’s a respected colleague, a valued friend, she’s-”

“well since you like her so much, let’s bring her out!” the host flings his arm out in the direction of the entrance stairway, “give a warm welcome to _____!”

“?”

the crowd is screaming as you walk in, waving at them with a warm smile on your face and sit next to nanami.

nanami looks at you, face red. “i-”

“don’t let him stop you.” you say, referring to the host’s interruption and the cheers erupting from the sea of people. “keep talking about me!”

nanami sighs. “shit…”

౨ৎ sixth clip

you’re being interviewed on the red carpet by a boisterous, joyful middle aged lady who asks you many questions, one of them being, “fuck, marry, kill”.

“okay fuck, marry, kill with getou suguru, nanami kento and gojo sa-”

“easy,” you cut in, not even hearing the rest of the question, “fuck getou, marry nanami and kill gojo. easiest question i’ve had so far!”

on the other end of the carpet, nanami is being asked the same questions except with actresses, one of them being you.

“fuck marry kill - utahime iori, _____ or shoko ieiri?!”

“marry _____, fuck utahime and kill shoko. goodnight.” he abruptly walks away, not even waiting for the interviewer to respond and leaves them flabbergasted.

*

a/n: feel like i rambled a lot in this one..oh well. also i’m not accepting requests for actor!nanami right now🤗🩷

#actor!nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami fluff

[dizzykss]

distracting dreams. longer name. könig notices you avoiding him. and it doesn’t take long for him to figure out that it’s all because of a little dream you had. marks. fingering. pussy play. semi-public. slight age gap

you couldn’t meet könig’s gaze for the entire day. the one time you did get a glimpse of him, his arm reaching over to grab a gun or a vest or something that you weren’t really paying attention to, your mind started whirring. your little dream had come back to, despite your inner protest, the memory of könig’s hands sliding down between your thighs made your stomach clench. heat making your cheeks flushed, along with your nose.

könig had noticed this change in your expression, as he eyes you. this only seemed to make your mind run laps, remembering the way his thick fingers jammed into you, while his heavy bulge kept nudging against your widened legs. fuck. in that moment you spared him a small smile and quickly turned to take business elsewhere.

as the day got later, your pussy craved for something that you knew you’d never get. i mean how pathetic can you get? honestly. but what you hadn’t realized was how attentive könig was to you. having been your mentor and supervisor he had grown a keen eye to your habits. you had never minded making eye contact before, or at least as much. but now you actively avoided it. and when könig made the mistake of letting his gaze drop he saw the way your thighs clenched tightly together.

he wasn’t a stupid man, he knew what that meant. and though the clear age gap and status provided you both with a clear ‘forbidden zone’, könig couldn’t help but keep looking. you were a pretty girl. könig also wasn’t blind. he knew the random stares you got, the passing compliments. he hadn’t thought much of it, but as he soon became aware of your dire need to avoid him he grew curious.

“i need to speak to you.” könig says to you in his normal professional manner that has you thinking you’re in the clear. but the moment you two end up alone he draws in close, far too easily lifting you onto the nearby table. your eyes expand as his large hands holds your thighs apart, and around his hips. “why are you avoiding me?” his question is simple. but you’re too awestruck to come up with a lie as you just gulp.

he’s testing a theory. your avoidance of eye contact, flushed cheeks, and clenched thighs all lead to something that is making könig second guess himself in thinking his plan is all for research purposes. did he want you like this? did he like the fact that you looked so flustered?

“alright, answer me this then. what did you dream about the other night?” his straight to the point question is nothing like the könig you knew. in fact this whole ‘confrontation’ is anything but. he doesn’t waste his time conversing in deep detail, or asking any questions that lead to said conversations. his question is followed by your further silence. what were you supposed to say? ‘yeah, i dreamt of you fucking me until i could barely breathe’.

“it’s a simple question.” he speaks again, and this time you can feel your body come to life. but not in the way of action in more of a reaction to his hands now stroking your thighs. his hands can practically encompass them. that only seems to make your inability to speak more prominent. “if you aren’t going to say anything, i’m going to start assuming.”

yeah, maybe his ‘plan’ is turning into something more. he wanted to know what was bothering you. that if he touched you this close would you react with disgust or as you are now? but now his mind seems to wander. if he’s right about you fantasizing about him, and if you won’t talk, there’s only one way to understand more.

you can’t comprehend a thing as his hand slips down between your thighs and begins to rub right against your covered pussy. your mouth salivates as your hands grip on the material of his shirt. könig watches you closely as your gaze darts down in surprise, your lips parting. his fingers drag against your cunt as your hips instinctively shudder. yeah…he knows.

his other hand then moves over to the button and zip of your pants, skillfully unbuttoning and unzipping until his hand can completely slide past your panties and graze right over your weeping pussy. a small gasp leaves you as your hips move a fraction, your head now practically rested on his chest as he stands. his calloused fingers do wonders to your clit and more choked sounds leave you.

you’re embarrassed. but at this point nothing much is going on in your mind besides the repeat of ‘könig is touching me’ ‘könig is touching me’. he doesn’t say a word as he then slips two fingers into your hole, the stretch making a louder mewl leave you. könig’s free hand presses against your mouth to quieten you, as he begins to fuck you with his fingers, your clothes muffling the wet drag of your seeping pussy.

his hips keep your thighs from shaking too much as you press against them for support, your forehead against his chest drawing you closer to him. “do not make a sound.” he whispers to you, as he removes his hold on your mouth, his hand slipping to partially soothe and hold your head.

könig can feel you squeezing around his fingers, your breathing telling him how close you are as his thumb rubs soothing circles on your clit. your orgasm crashes over you as you mouth opens, panting against him. he keeps thrusting his cum covered fingers into you as your hips grind as much as they can. after a moment, your orgasm slowly decreasing, könig mutters something. “is that why you were avoiding me today?”

you can’t tell if he’s disappointed or not. and you’re still too scared to look him in the eye. even more now, that his fingers are spreading your arousal and cum all over your pussy lips, his hand still in your pants. “i’m…sorry.” you manage, your embarrassment catching up to you. he doesn’t reply a moment as he keeps playing with your pussy lips slowly. “is that a yes?” he hums.

“…yes.” you murmur back. the moment you say this, his fingers slide right back into your hole making you gasp, and grip onto his arms. you finally gaze up at him, as he begins to finger you again. “w-what—“ you choke out as your eyes threaten to roll, the heat in your core returning. you don’t know his reason for thrusting his fingers back into you. because all he knows is that he wants to watch you cum again.

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig x you #konig #konig imagine #könig smut #könig cod #cod smut #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #18+ #smut

[rowarn]

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2

simon riley / reader

FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3

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

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

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

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

PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It almost felt like something a husband would do. 

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

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

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

“Absolutely not,” he says.

Your jaw drops, “Why?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The ring of his phone was the break. 

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

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

“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please, just love me back.

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, you stand. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He fucking laughs. 

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

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

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

You dash the spark of hope that it causes. 

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

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

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

Simon kissed you.

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

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

“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he does, of course he does. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry…” you mutter shamefully at being caught. 

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

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

“Si..?” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t stop beating yourself up over it. 

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

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

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

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

That makes you sit up, “Leave?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will, Si,” you assure him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat. 

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

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

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

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

This is going to be miserable, you think. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” you dumbly ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why..?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So why…” you frown, “I want you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then everything stops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it’s you. You’re special. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But instead, he does something else.

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

So he does it again. 

And again. 

And again.

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

He needs you to cum for him again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, love?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shyly nod, “I-It was um…fun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART ONE.

do not modify, translate, or repost

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