Tumgik
#this is his little cloud bed I hope you like him
mariasont · 3 days
Text
Spoiled - A.H
Tumblr media
a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did
think im ovulating or something YALL IDK
anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it
warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!
wc: 3.3k
"Penelope Grace Garcia!"
Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.
"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."
"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.
You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 
"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."
Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 
"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."
"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.
"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.
You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.
"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."
"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 
The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.
"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."
Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.
Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.
He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.
The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.
The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 
The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.
"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.
He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.
You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.
Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.
"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."
His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.
"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."
You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 
Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.
"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."
You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 
After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.
"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.
You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.
"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 
A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.
"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 
You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.
"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.
He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 
"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."
"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."
There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 
You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.
You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.
With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.
A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.
But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 
You went back to your phone.
Hi
The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.
Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.
"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.
You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"
His response is quick. "You could never bother me."
A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.
"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"
"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."
You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.
"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."
"You know."
You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.
"I don't know, sweetheart."
Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.
"Where are you?"
"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"
Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."
"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."
Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.
"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."
"Yes, it's for you, baby."
You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.
"Why?"
His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 
"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.
You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.
"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.
You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.
"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"
"Yeah."
You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.
"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."
"Aaron..."
He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"
Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.
You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."
Wow you're sure you fooled him.
"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."
A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 
"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.
"Where, sweetheart?"
You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.
"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.
He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.
"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."
Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.
"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."
"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."
You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
"There you go, that's my girl."
You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.
"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"
You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.
"Okay."
It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.
His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.
But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.
"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.
"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."
"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.
You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.
It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?
"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.
"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."
"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"
You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.
"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."
You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.
The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.
"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."
Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.
"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 
"Go ahead, sweetheart."
That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.
You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.
"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."
You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.
"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.
"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."
He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 
"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."
His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."
"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"
"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
730 notes · View notes
euseokz · 2 days
Note
can i request some sungho hard hcs?
@ sungho — you just know exactly what i like, don’t you baby ? . cws : oral (f) . fingering . creampie . wc : 0.9k+ . genre : smut
a/n : turned this into a little drabble because i got a bit too inspired, but i hope you don’t mind it and still like it nonnie !! mwah mwah
Tumblr media
BOYFRIEND! SUNGHO who is just so easy to please.
you know him like the palm of your hand, know exactly what buttons to push to make him feel so good he almost forgets his own name — or better yet, know what to do to leave him in such a lust-induced high it is basically all he can think about. all you need to do is kiss that one spot down his neck, bite that exact place on his jaw, or even suck on his tongue a bit more desperately, and he’ll be exactly where you need him to be mentally to fuck you into oblivion.
sungho likes intimate sex, likes when it feels like you two are the only people in the world and nothing else matters, so the atmosphere surrounding you also matters a lot to him. he likes when you are in your room, the space dim-lighted with maybe a few candles spread around. he’ll kiss you so passionately, lips pressing and sucking on yours eagerly, wanting to taste every inch of you. he’ll pin you to the bed, either by cupping your cheeks and using his weight on top of you to keep you in place, or by simply gripping your wrists and keeping them on either side of your head, making sure that all that surrounds you is him whichever route he choses. he likes that, when your head is clouded by him, when you’re as hazy with lust for him as he is for you — because for sungho that’s how it should be, or else it’s almost not worth it. you should want each other so bad it almost hurts, that’s how he likes it, when your desperation turns physical and you can’t help but want to be all over each other.
when he does eventually fuck you, sungho will only do so after he has prepped you well enough. he likes to make you cum on his tongue or around his fingers, likes how you whine with each thrust of his digits into you and when he presses the pads of his fingers against that sweet spot inside you, or when his tongue swipes over your clit and you can’t help but roll your eyes back in pleasure — or better yet — when he mixes both up and you reach your first climax almost all too quickly, not able to hold your pleasure back due to how insanely good it all feels. sungho likes to make you feel good, getting so hard his erection strains against his underwear painfully as he fucks his fingers into you and plays with your clit, his cock aching for some stimulation too but his focus still mainly on you and on leaving you as relaxed as possible first, only when he does that being the time to allow himself to properly fuck you.
sungho likes to have you completely undressed under him, not too fond of the idea of either of you being clothed, liking to see your body, to be able to kiss any spot he wants, the restraining of clothes unnecessary in his opinion when you can be fully pressed against each other, your warmth comforting as he lines his dick with your cunt, ready to thrust into you and finally get some release.
at first, sungho always likes to go slow, to take his time in letting you adjust to his girth as he moves slowly, his hips going into yours and then pulling back languidly, repeating the process until all you can do is mewl his name under him, begging for more, for him to go faster, to actually fuck you — and how could sungho ever deny you of anything, already too pussy-drunk to not want to do exactly what you were asking of him. he’d start moving faster, his cock dragging deeper into you, his tip pressing against all the right spots with every thrust. sungho could get so into it he’d almost be a bit rough, slamming his hips against yours almost mercilessly, grunting into your neck, mumbling about how good you felt, how much he loved the feeling of your pussy wrapped so snuggly around him, as if you were made for him.
even while he was caught up in his own pleasure, sungho still managed to put you first, only happy when he made you cum at least once around his cock, only then finally thinking of his climax too. his favorite places to cum were either inside you, enjoying the thought of filling you up with his milky cum, almost in a possessive manner, or all over your pussy, thinking the view of you covered in his seed was just too pretty, the way your clit twitched as his cum spilled down your folds leaving him almost hypnotized, unable to take his eyes off your pussy until his orgasm-induced high started to fade out, only then looking up at you, immediately moving to kiss you, desperate all over again for you, to taste you, to have his tongue pressed against yours — although this time sungho would prefer to take things slower, kissing you just as passionately and eagerly but letting each kiss last a bit longer, allowing himself to fully enjoy the moment, wanting to take his time as you both calmed down, afterwards focusing on getting you all cleaned up, and only then cuddling up to you, enjoying to end it all with you in his arms, breathing slowly against him, relaxed in his hold.
95 notes · View notes
thatmooncake · 2 years
Text
Dreamy time doll 🌙💕✨
Tumblr media
921 notes · View notes
rafeysdoll · 1 month
Note
rafe x crybaby!reader who cries and has a full on meltdown in front of rafe and his friends because he said no when she asked him to buy her this new expensive bag!🎀
ahhh i’m sorry i honestly hate the way i wrote this so much im so sorry i really hope you like it:< rafe is just a little mean but i mean come on! it’s rafe <3 im sorry i didn’t really make her have like a whole real big meltdown i just honestly couldn’t write it :<
Tumblr media
‘DENIED’ the website reads, just as you were about to finish off your purchase for the new pink limited edition bag you had been eyeing. what? you frown, quickly jumping off your bed, slipping into your pink crocs— following the noise downstairs, knowing rafe and his friends were hanging out in the living room.
“rafe?” you call, giving a quick greeting to topper and kelce before sitting besides your boyfriend. “whys it say that?,” you ask, glittery gloss lips in a form of a halfway pout as you show your phone to rafe.
he leans in, taking a quick glance at it before a small chuckle leaves his lips. “you.. you uh.. really don’t remember?”
your brows furrow, head tilting. “what do you mean, ray?” confusion laced in your voice.
he looks away briefly before landing back at you. “well.. thanks to that little stunt you pulled on monday, i decided i won’t be paying for anymore of your little shopping sprees ‘till next week.” he states, lips smacking together.
“w-what?” you nervously giggle, cheeks starting to heat up.
it was safe to say, you weren’t used to rafe telling you no. every single thing you wanted or asked for was given to you in a few days thanks to express shipping.
you had got perfectly accustomed to the title of being rafe’s spoiled girlfriend. constantly skipping over prices and simply swiping his card. “i.. i thought you were only kidding, daddy.” you mumble softly, not wanting the boys to hear.
“i don’t kid about setting you straight, baby.” he says simply, your eyes already starting to burn.. embarrassment clouding your mind.
“but you already punished me!” you whine as quietly as you can, one of the small tears up in your eyes falls as you recollect the memory of when he had you bent over his lap, spanking you until your ass was practically engraved with his handprint.
“please daddy, it’ll already be sold out by next week,” you cry, trying to make him understand.
but he only looks away, shaking his head. “don’t you have enough purses anyway? bought you plenty already.” he continues, making more tears stream down your cheek at his reluctance.
you notice topper and kelce staring now, concerned with whatever it was you were crying about, looking to themselves with confused expressions. rafe however, was used to your dramatics.
“you’re just being mean, rafe! i already paid for my mistake.” you plead, grabbing his hands and squeezing them lightly.
topper clears his throat, clearly feeling uncomfortable with the whole situation. kelce hides a small smirk, but pretends not to hear the ordeal anyway.
rafe couldn’t care less for the audience, always loving when he had any spotlight with the way he handled you. an opportunity to flaunt the power dynamic between you two.
rafe puts on a faux pout, even making a small “awe” sound as he moves one hand to wipe your tears. “oh i’m being mean, really? that.. that supposed to make me cave in, hm? let you run along and think every single punishment isn’t serious?”
he was so cruel you thought, his mocking pulling at your heart in a negative way. “hey, stop crying, okay? you know im not doing this for fun. these are consequences to your actions.” he prompts, every tear that falls on your cheek being wiped by his hands.
“p-please, just this once..” you mewl. “i promise i wont ask for another bag for awhile, promise! i’ll be real good.” you beg.
maybe it was the way your sad eyes looked at him, or the way your manicured hand squeezed his own, or maybe he just wanted you to stop bugging him, thinking about the blow job he’d ask for later— or maybe it was simply cause he had grown soft. but regardless, he still bites his lips and nods. “alright fine— i’ll buy it now so it doesn’t sell out, but when it comes you’re gonna give it me to hold it until next week still.” he tells you, filling in his card information on the site.
“r-really? oh thank you!” you squeal, giving him a tight hug. “mhm, better be.”
2K notes · View notes
kentopedia · 7 months
Text
♰ pain reliever — okkotsu yuuta
Tumblr media Tumblr media
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 2 - vampire!yuuta
your vampire boyfriend can't resist the taste of you during a certain time of the month
contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, smut, period sex, vampire!yuuta, cunnilingus, blood drinking, slight teasing — 2.2k
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a steady ache in your abdomen pulls you out of your previously deep sleep, the dull throb increasing with every second. it’s the middle of the night, and your eyes are still heavy with exhaustion, the back of your eyelids burning when you try to squeeze them shut once more. 
though, no matter how many times you flip to the other side, the pain won’t subside, not even a little bit. you’re left curling into a ball, glaring at the emptiness of the dark. 
beside you, the bed is empty, though that wasn’t unusual for the middle of the night. still, it would’ve been nice to curl up into another body, to feel your boyfriend’s large palm rub over your stomach, in the hopes that it would ease the cramps.
you shift onto your stomach and check your phone, already missing yuuta. it’s just a little over three, but there’s no messages from him, no indication as to where he’d gone for the evening. 
you contemplate calling him; but when your finger hovers over his name, you click your phone off and sigh. they’re just cramps—nothing you can’t handle on your own. this time of the month had come and gone a hundred times before. you just need a heating pad and some pain reliever, and that should be enough to lull you back to sleep.
with eyes that are half-shut, you lazily slump towards the door, feeling far too much like a zombie. the floor is cold under your bare feet, and you shiver, picking yuuta’s sweatshirt up off the edge of the bed to throw it on. 
the moment you open the bedroom door, a wave of overwhelming perfume assaults your senses, the mixture one of every fall aroma. it combines into a cloud of smoke and wax, and its too much, far too much. the smells nearly have you choking. 
in the living room, there are thirty different flames lit, spread across the surfaces. they illuminate the room with a haunting glow, showcasing yuuta, who sits in the corner of the sofa, contemplative. 
“yuuta?” you say, calling out his name. he clenches his jaw but keeps his eyes forward. with his acute hearing, he’d probably heard the breath you took when you woke up, and every movement you’d made after that. “the candles are giving me a headache, baby.” your eyes begin to water from the smoke in the air, and one by one, you start to blow them out. 
“no!” yuuta exclaims, and when you turn, his irises are darker, wide as they watch you move around. “leave them.”  
you frown, but blow another one out as yuuta squeezes his palms to his side. his back goes taut, straightening as tension stretches him thin.
“it’ll just make me nauseous.” there’s a sour taste growing in your mouth, a pain in your temple. you reach for the final three candles. they aren’t as strong, but they still fill the air, a culmination of pumpkin, vanilla and coffee. “i started my period.” 
yuuta’s eyes flash as he watches you bend over to blow out one of the candles, your lips puckering, before you move to the last flame. his gaze is careful, considering as your little exhale extinguishes the fire.
“i know,” yuuta says, grabbing your wrist before you can blow out the final flames. his dark locks are loose, falling over his paler skin as he licks his lips. a sharp gaze pins you, tracing from your forehead to your chin. “i could smell you all the way from the bedroom.”
you blink, swallowing at his predatory eyes, the way his pupils darken, sharp white canines curling over his lips. it’s easy to forget, truly, how dangerous he is. he’s sweet and caring—not like the vampires you’ve seen in the movies—but he is, still, a vampire.
yuuta lures you in, inching you closer until you’re beside him on the couch, your breath the only sound between you. “i thought you were…” you trail off, a part of your voice cracking. “didn’t you go hunt?” 
it seems like a strange word to say, but you couldn’t think of a better one. you suppose, at the end of the day, he is more of a creature than a man. his instincts ones of bloodlust, ones that he has to fight against every moment that he’s with you. 
“couldn’t leave,” he says, his voice coming out clipped. “tried to, but i just kept thinking of your sweet blood. tastes so good.” his hand rests on your thigh, fingers rubbing small circles near your hip. “are your cramps getting bad?” 
you look at him from under your lashes as he licks his lips, pushing you backward slowly, until your head hits the arm of the sofa. the palm on your body is cold, but it does little to cool your heated skin. 
“it hurts,” you finally nod, breathing heavily as he smiles, sympathetic to your pain. 
“let me help,” yuuta inches a finger into your waistband, slowly dragging down your shorts. his tongue darts out across his lip, hungrily, like he might have trouble controlling his urge to devour you. 
you swallow. when you still him with a touch to his wrist, he simply cocks his head, curious, his fingers still resting between your shorts. 
“get a towel first,” you say, but the request is ignored. he slides the shorts completely off, lowering his head. “you’ll make a mess.”
yuuta ignores you, salivating as he kisses from the crevice of your knee, up your thigh. he inhales deeply against your hipbone, the strong aroma of your arousal and blood almost too much for him. 
bowing his head, he presses his lips to your cunt, licking you through your panties, lapping at the spot of blood that had already begun to stain there. “i don’t plan on wasting a drop, princess.” 
a stuttering breath leaves you, and your head falls back as yuuta kisses you softly over the cotton. his tongue flicks out, warm and wet, licking a stripe through your folds. the thin piece of cloth sucks into them, blood seeping through. 
“yuuta,” you whine, impatient he takes his time with you, his long fangs catching on the flimsy underwear. 
“don’t want to go too fast.” finally, he glances up, stares at you with hungry, black eyes. yuuta drags your panties off, but he’s far too slow, teasing you. “you know how much i love sucking the blood from your pretty pussy, hm?” his voice comes out in a near growl, and his grip grows tight around your knees, spreading your legs further. “wait for it all month.” 
he runs a tongue over sharp white teeth, hungry at the sight of you spread out, bloody and bare, just for him. 
“even when it hurts?” you ask in a small voice, but yuuta smiles, his thick eyelashes fluttering. his dark lips curl at the corners, more mocking than kind, drinking you in.
“it won’t hurt for long, love.” yuuta kisses the inside of your thighs, licking every inch of skin he can manage to get his tongue on. “besides, you get turned on so easily when you’re bleeding.”
he pushes his tongue against your entrance, curling over your wet arousal. the kisses are with such care, reminiscent of the sweet boy you’re used to loving, the one who stumbles over his words and still flushes hot when you kiss him. though, that familiarity only lasts for a moment. once yuuta gets a taste of you, his hunger doubles. 
he sucks, hard, his lips around your clit, the pressure sending a wave of desire through your body. you reach down and grip his dark locks, in any attempt to guide him within your thighs. though, you’re under yuuta’s control completely, and he licks deep in you, gathering the clots of blood onto his tongue. 
“fuck,” he hums against your cunt, his nose nudging your clit as he curses. the vibrations of his words shake you, and instinctively, your thighs try to squeeze together. but yuuta is stronger than you—much stronger—and he keeps them spread apart, fingers leaving tiny imprints on your skin. “you’re so sweet. so good for me. never tasted anyone like you before.” he praises, but its hard for him to speak as he fucks his tongue into you, lapping at your juices like its the nectar of gods. 
you can’t think of anything to say, and a soft whimper leaves your lips, the sound of his name barely audible with your exhale. yuuta’s fangs are smooth against your hot body, almost soothing as he runs his tongue along your folds. 
“i’ll make the the cramps go away.” he says. yuuta’s been replaced by a much cockier, confident version of the occasionally awkward vampire. his fangs gleam as he looks up at you, and your eyes flutter shut, hardly able to focus on the sight of him sucking at your bloody pussy. “promise, princess. it’s the least i can do when you keep me so well-fed.”
you nod, humming, but the sound is lost as yuuta dives back down, the blood coating his lips, his nose, dark against his chin. he takes both your thighs and throws them over his shoulder, reaching deeper in your hole as you moan, far too sensuously for the silent room. 
“yuuta—” you start, but you don’t remember it feeling this good before, you don’t remember pain ever being taken from you so easily. the words die, and you begin them again. “your tongue—”
he smiles, tightening his grip as he sucks faster, harder. “feels better?” 
“almost,” you say, breathless. “it’s… not enough.” 
yuuta groans, but he pulls back, licking the blood off his lips. “course it’s not,” he says. “so greedy, sometimes.” he presses, small, quick kisses across your thigh, teeth grazing the skin, and slides a finger into you; then another. 
his fingers are long, far longer than his tongue, and he stretches you, your walls sucking them right back in. with a gasp, you squeeze your thighs around his head, but yuuta just sighs. 
“please,” he says, teeth against the soft skin of your thigh. “please, can i?”
he’s close to begging, even though you’re the one who’s desperate, and you nod, needing him to curl farther into you, to reach the spot that’s deep within you. the sounds grow louder, lewd as his fingers sink in and out of you, so thick within your tight cunt.
yuuta bites you, then, sinks his fangs into your thigh, and you nearly scream, arching up into him as you start to tremble. 
his usually white teeth stain a deep scarlet, and he groans against your body, pulling back to watch you. “want you to cum for me, nice and hard, okay baby? we gotta get rid of those cramps.” he drinks from your thigh again, and you’re so close, not even realizing that you’re thrusting your hips up to meet his fingers as he goes inside you. 
“y-yuuta�� you say, taking two hard breaths when he abandons the open wound on your thigh, and returns to sucking your clit, rubbing you with just enough force. the ache builds up and up, and you’re right on the ledge, about to fall over, his name leaving your lips once more in a cry. 
“that’s it,” he says, pumping in and out of you, graceful and heavy. “oh you’re so pretty, you know that? i’ve lived for centuries, and in all that time, i’ve never seen anyone look as perfect as you when they cum.” 
you break then, squeezing his fingers as babbled words leave your lips in a moan. your entire body shakes, convulsing as you reach blissful release, and you slump back on the couch, your head hitting the arm rest.
yuuta slides his fingers out of you slowly, and then he sticks them in his own mouth, licking every drop of your blood and juices from his hand. his eyes are blown wide with lust, hazy and dark as he drinks you up. 
“i can’t get enough of you,” he says, his voice so hoarse that the words are almost nothing at all. “my sweet little human girl.” yuuta doesn’t move, but he’s so lost in the taste of you, even as his cock strains hard against his flannel pajama pants. “just right there for the taking. a warm body full of the most delicious blood. mine.”
you pull him close then, needing to kiss him, feeling his hard teeth bump against your own. he tastes metallic; it’s not as good as he makes it out to be. still, if it drives him crazy, turns him into an absolute addict from just the scent of you, you’ll gladly give him every drop he wants. a smile graces your lips as he groans into you, licking your mouth. 
“yuuta?” 
he pulls away for just a moment, blinking lust-blown eyes. “hm?” 
“my cramps are gone.”
Tumblr media
tags: @satohruu @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @annoyingpainterprincess
OCTOBER MASTERLIST
btw this was going to be a toji fic and then he lost the poll ... i did not know there were so many yuuta fans following me
4K notes · View notes
luvrxbunny · 8 months
Text
fangs
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
Summary: You see Miguel’s fangs for the first time. 
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fangs, very minimal self-doubt, cum in pants (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 1.9k
A/N: I used google translate for the spanish so if anything is incorrect im sorry 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
‘Your package was delivered’
Your face brightens at the notification as you hop out of bed and rush to the front door. When you open it you’re met with the broad, muscular back of your boyfriend, Miguel O’Hara.
“Miggy?” You say with a laugh. “What are you doing out here? Oh my god, are you my package?!” You’re hunched over, laughing at your own joke as Miguel stands from his seated position, casting his large shadow over you. 
“Hi, amor.” He places a kiss on your forehead and walks in. “How has your day been?” He asks as he strips off his suit top and walks to the bedroom but you don’t answer, still wondering about something. 
“Why were you just sitting out there?” You ask while closing the front door and taking your slippers off. Miguel hasn’t said anything, letting a long pause draw out before answering.
“I was calming down.” He comes back out in a t-shirt that’s tighter than it needs to be and some gray sweatpants. 
“The fight was pretty intense, a little demanding y’know? So I just wanted to- I wanted to calm down before coming inside… But how was your day?” You don’t let the subject change, still confused with his statement. 
There have been plenty of times when Miguel would burst in, still aggressive and amped up from the latest fight, adrenaline still coursing through him. The first time it happened you were a little scared of course, you’d never seen him like that, eyes clouded with violence, his claws out in the air and threatening, with a deep scowl on his face. But that was a long time ago.
You’ve mastered the art of turning him from Spider-Man to Miggy. You learned it quite some time ago, which just furthers your confusion from his response. He’s rummaging through the cabinets, muttering about how he’s starving and you realize he hasn’t met your gaze since you found him which is incredibly unlike him. 
“Miguel, is that the truth? I mean- You’ve come in all amped up before so…” You trail off as Miguel freezes in the kitchen before sighing and running a hand through his hair. He closes the cabinet gently and turns to you, eyes cast downward before meeting yours. He takes another breath and walks to you. “It’s the technical truth uh… The whole truth is that my fangs were out and… I just- I don’t want you to see them.” He finishes his sentence and walks past you, to the bathroom and closes the door. 
You stand at the entrance to the kitchen in a stupor as you process his words and go chasing after him. You’re pounding on the bathroom door, begging him to let you see them, to let you kiss him with them out, and every other thought that comes to your mind, hoping it lightens the situation. You stop pounding after a few minutes, arms growing tired and getting a little embarrassed at his silence. You make your way over to the couch as you wait for him. 
You think about what he said, that he doesn’t want you to see his fangs and you feel a little pang of hurt in your heart that ripples through your body. 
He doesn’t want me to see them? Why though… Does he think I won’t like them? Does he think my opinion of him will change or something? I love him though, doesn’t he understand that?? Maybe it’s something super intimate, maybe he just doesn’t feel enough for me, for him to expose himself like that. Maybe he doesn’t trust me enough to be that vulnerable, to give all of him to me… 
Tumblr media
Your thoughts turn your mood sour as Miguel finally emerges from the bathroom, teeth brushed and face newly washed. “I don’t want to show them to you.” The words strike your heart again as you nod your head at him, not even looking up at him as you fall into your negative thoughts. He watches you stare into the carpet, obviously deep in thought but you look sad. 
“You okay, hermosa?” He wipes his hands in the towel around his neck as he sits beside you on the couch. You don’t hear him, too inside your own head, leaving him ignored. He watches you for a bit before grabbing one of your thighs and turning your body to face him, knocking you out of your trance. You have a deep, heartbreaking expression on your face that you quickly mask with happiness when your eyes meet his. “I asked if you were okay, baby.” 
“Oh! Y-yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, sorry.” You giggle at him but it sounds hollow, making him guilty. He already knows why, he knows how your mind works, he knows how you think. He pulls you in, one leg is extended past him and the other is folded on the couch, touching his leg, your face a few inches from his. 
“Mi cariño, no tiene nada to do with you, okay? Nothing. I just-” He emphasizes ‘nothing’, willing you to believe him. He’s absently rubbing your calf as he tries to piece together what he wants to say. “They’re weapons. I feel like… I don't think I want you to see that… A part of me that’s a weapon. You look at me like… como si fuera tu todo, like I hung the stars… I love that and I don’t want it to change. Nunca quiero que eso cambie.” His eyes are looking at your calf, how his hand wraps around it instead of you. 
(“My love, it has nothing to do with you okay?” “...like I'm your everything…” “I never want that to change.” )
If he had been looking at you he would’ve seen the look of utter disbelief that rested on your face. You put your hand over his and pull yourself closer to him, placing a kiss on his forehead before speaking. “Miguel, I look at you that way because, despite the way you feel about yourself, I believe that you deserve every good thing the world has to offer. I want you to know that you don’t have to show them to me if you really don’t want to but be aware… I will love you for the rest of my life.. and there is nothing that can change that, my feelings for you literally cannot decrease.” 
He stays silent, avoiding your gaze still but you let him. You know that expressing himself is hard for him and hearing people speak positively to him is even harder. You giggle softly at his silence and place another kiss on his head. You’re about to get up from the couch when he pulls you back in, pressing his lips to yours with a bruising intensity that has a fire starting up in your stomach. Your lips part for him as he sighs into you, his hand grips your hair and he grunts as you feel something push against your mouth. He’s breathing faster, kissing you more passionately as you try to pull away. 
Eventually, you break from his grasp and try to look at him but he’s already turned from you. You want to protest but don’t want to push him. You bring one of your hands to rest at his nape, playing with some of the hairs there, trying to soothe him. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to turn away, you can leave until he’s calmed down but he turns to you. His mouth is shut but his eyes are so fragile, like they’re pleading with you to be gentle. He holds your eye contact for a bit before opening his mouth in a smile-grimace expression. 
A gasp slips from your mouth and your hands come up to hold his face, pulling it to yours. You inspect his fangs as his warm breath floats over your face. You bring one hand from his face to tail over one of them, earning a flinch from Miguel but you run your other thumb across his cheek, attempting to soothe his worries. 
They’re much bigger than you expected, they look like they’d barely fit in his mouth. They’re smooth and glossy like marble, cleaner than you expected too. You wonder silently if he lets them come out, brushes them, and then retracts them as your other hand comes from his cheek to his mouth. They’re thick, they look like they could leave a sizeable puncture wound if he bit you. Your fingers squeeze around both fangs, feeling their width for yourself. Your fingers run along the length of his fangs and then go up to his gums. 
You’re completely captivated by his teeth, you haven’t even looked back up at him since he opened his mouth. You absently caress his fangs while inspecting his gums, trying to understand where they go when retracted. You give up on that when your thumb runs over the bottom of his fangs. 
He groans out, loud and ragged against your face. 
Your eyes flicker up to look at him and his eyes are rolled back into his head, eyebrows furrowed as he moans out a loose rendition of your name. You’re staring at him in awe as he mutters out a mix of unfinished words. You immediately look down into his lap and see a patch of dark gray spreading out. 
A moan rips from your throat as you press your hand against his hard, twitching, leaking cock and kiss him. His hips instantly twitch up into your hand, using the friction to prolong his orgasm. He’s moaning into your mouth, his hands are frantic as they push your head into his face, his fangs digging into your lips almost painfully. You slide your tongue into his mouth when he moans again, you explore it, feeling the fangs instantly and running your tongue over them. 
The action earns a gut-wrenching whine from Miguel as he starts to tremble. His hips are still bucking up into your palm, overstimulating himself as his cock spurts out mini loads. 
You pull away from him slowly, your hand gently massaging his cock as he comes down. He drops his head onto your shoulder as he pants, unsteady syllables of your name falling from his lips. 
He lifts his head from your shoulder once his cock stops jumping in your hold. There’s a rare pink hue over his face as he leans in to kiss you. You accept it with a smile, kissing him back before pulling away again. 
“So…” You start semi-awkwardly, a light laugh in your tone as he groans out, embarrassed. “Did that feel good? Are they sensitive?” A shuddering breath leaves him as he recalls how your fingers felt gliding over his fangs, how arousal punched into his gut the moment you touched them. 
“Yeah… It felt-” His sentence is cut off with a whisper of a whine as he thinks about it, breathing speeding up, chest heaving at the fresh memory. You’re surprised at this, you’ve never seen him so delirious so… fucked out. “Me sentí tan bien, bebé. N-no sabía que me sentía así. I loved it so much, you made me feel so fucking good, amor. Te amo tanto, cariño.” 
(“I felt so good, baby. I-I didn't know I felt like that”... “I love you so much, darling.”)
A smile graces your face at the one phrase you understand, ‘Te amo’. You pull him in for another kiss before whispering. “Good.” He groans and pulls you into his lap, whining when your weight presses against his sensitive cock. You smile into his lips and kiss him again, pulling away again to giggle at him. 
“ ‘S not funny.” He grumbles out as he leans back, laying down on the couch with you on top of him. You continue giggling into his neck and you can feel his cheeks fatten up with his smile. 
You guys stay there for the rest of the night, intermittently waking up to smother the other in kisses before falling back to sleep. 
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for reading!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!
5K notes · View notes
imyourbratzdoll · 1 month
Note
Breeding Kink Steve/Bucky eventho you already have a couple of kids 🫣
hi baby! I'm so sorry for taking so long, I hope you like what I wrote.
summary - breeding kink gone wild, your husbands take it to the next level by forever wanting you to carry their child.
warning - smut, breeding kink, sorta dubcon but not really, mentions of pregnancy, creampie, threesome.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“C’mon, Doll. Let us pump you full, want you to have our babies.” Bucky groans in your ear, pressed against your back where you can feel his bulge. You whine, letting out a breathy whimper as Steve grips your hips, pressing soft kisses to your neck, occasionally marking it as well.
“What do you say, Sweetheart? Wanna be full of our cum?”
You squirm, vision becoming hazy as lust clouds your mind. “B–but, we already have two…” Your head falls back, moaning loudly as their cocks slide inside of you without much warning. You didn’t even see them take their cocks out. Your cunt clenches around them, arousal dripping down their thick members, making it easier for them to thrust into you.
“Doesn’t matter, Doll. We wanna breed you forever and watch you grow with our child.” Bucky thrusts in and out, hands sliding up your body until they grasp your breasts. His moans so close to your ear that it causes tingles to spread throughout your body, your cunt clenching around your men. 
Steve groans, biting down on his bottom lip hard as he looks down at you with dark eyes. Your own cloudy ones connect with his, lips parting as you feel them pulse inside of you, gripping them tightly when they hit your sweet spot. Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head and groans slip past his lips as he pounds into you hard and fast, feeling your little cunt clench around him from his brutal thrusts. 
They continue to have their way with you, fucking you so hard that you see stars. Your juices squirt out of you, causing their cocks to twitch and pump you full of their cum once again. Filling you with large amounts that will likely be the cause of your next pregnancy. Steve and Bucky take turns kissing your lips before cleaning you up. They lay you down on your large bed and grin as they caress your stomach, waiting for the moment you pop this one out for them to start all over again. 
Tumblr media
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
2K notes · View notes
incognit0slut · 1 month
Note
hi! what about this: some time after spencer comes home from prison, he finds some toys reader had bought for herself since he'd been in prison for so long. he tells reader that if she was needy enough to do anything without him, she can do it again, without him. he orders her to show him what she was doing when he was gone. you can definitely include edging and/or overstimulation as well as degradation, of course if you're comfortable with that <3 also, if it's not a problem, since it would be a sub/dom dynamic there could be aftercare included, but it depends on what you feel like writing.
anyway, thank you and i hope you're having a great day 🌺
(18+) Dom Spence x fem reader. 1.3k. Sex toy. Squirting.
Spencer forces you to give him a show when he discovers your secret.
-
Spencer wasn't trying to be evil, he really wasn't, but there was a twisted satisfaction witnessing your vulnerability. Maybe it was the sense of power over you, or perhaps you were simply captivating, but whatever the reason, he found himself drawn to the sight of you lying in bed, legs spread apart.
He watched intently as the toy disappeared into your cunt, moving in and out, each thrust met with the tight clenching of your walls. He never imagined he'd witness you finding satisfaction with anything other than him, yet, if he were honest with himself, the sight aroused him more than it angered him.
You had been going at it for a while now—no, he forced you to do it. Though "force" might not be the right choice of word, because as embarrassed as you were by his discovery of the toy you forgot even existed, the pleasure clouded your mind, and you found yourself enjoying giving him a show far too much to stop.
“Is this what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone?” Spencer taunted, leaning back in the chair positioned at the foot of the bed.
Your response caught in your throat as your climax edged closer. With a sense of urgency, you increased the speed of your hand, plunging the toy in and out of your dripping cunt with increasing desperation, the echoes of your arousal filling the room.
“Answer me,” he urged. “Keep your eyes on me and answer the question.”
With a shiver running down your spine, you forced yourself to meet his intense gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.
“I… I needed…” you stammered, struggling to form coherent words amidst the rising tide of sensation.
“Needed what?” he pressed.
You swallowed hard. “I needed… to feel something,” you admitted. “I needed… release.”
“And you couldn’t wait for me?”
“I… I’m… sorry,” you confessed, each word punctuated by a gasp as the toy drove you closer to the edge. “I couldn’t… without… you…”
The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the toy. Then, his voice cut through the air. “Do you need me now?”
You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his piercing eyes. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice raw with longing. “I-I need you.”
His lips curved into a knowing smile, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners. “Hmm,” he hummed, his voice low and teasing. “That’s too bad because I’m quite enjoying the view.”
You squirmed under his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet undeniably aroused by his control.
“Please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore. I-I need you.”
A flicker of something akin to sympathy crossed his features, but it was quickly replaced by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I know you do,” he replied. “But where’s the fun in giving you what you want so easily?”
You bit your lip, torn between frustration and arousal. “Please,” you pleaded again, your voice barely a whisper, “Don’t tease me like this.”
His smirk widened, clearly enjoying the power he held over you. “You’ll have to beg a little harder than that,” he whispered. “Show me how much you need me.”
Your heart raced at his words, the intensity of his gaze igniting a fiery need within you. Without hesitation, you spread your legs further apart, the movement allowing him an unobstructed view of the way your cunt clenched around the toy, your arousal evident in the slickness coating it.
A satisfied groan escaped his lips at the sight, his hand instinctively finding its way to his strained arousal beneath his pants. “I’ll tell you what,” he muttered, gripping himself. “Make yourself come and I’ll give you what you want.”
A whine broke put of you. “I…”
“If you were needy enough to satisfy yourself without me, you can do it again now.”
Your heart was beating fast against your chest, yet you found yourself nodding.
“Three times,” he continued. “Give me three orgasms.”
Your breath hitched at his words. “Three?” You squeaked.
“Three,” he affirmed, his voice low and commanding.
You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of anticipation mingled with apprehension. The thought of achieving such intense pleasure under his watchful gaze both thrilled and intimidated you. But the promise of his reward spurred you on, driving you to arch your back and chase after your first orgasm.
It came fast and fierce, crashing over you with an intensity that left you breathless. Your toes curled in ecstasy, and a blush spread across your cheeks as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, knowing that he was watching your every move.
“You’re doing so well,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “Give me another.”
Your eyes fluttered open again, and you whimpered, determined not to give yourself a break. The faster you obliged, the quicker he would fuck you. So you pushed yourself even further, ignoring the burning sensation as the toy thrusts in and out of you relentlessly.
And then, as it hit that very deep spot inside you, your legs began to shake, spreading even wider in response to the overwhelming sensation. The pleasure surged through you like a tidal wave, from your head down to your toes, and his name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper.
He grunted as he rubbed himself through his pants. “One more, sweetheart, you can take it, just one more.”
You gasped, still reeling from the intensity of the previous climax. “I… I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “I know you can.”
Despite the lingering waves of pleasure still washing over you, you steeled yourself for one final effort. Gritting your teeth, you resumed the frantic pace, driving the toy deep inside you.
The sensations intensified, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath grew ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as you neared the edge once again.
As the pleasure built within you, there was a sudden, unfamiliar intensity to the sensation. It coiled in your stomach, sending a surge of urgency coursing through your veins. You whimpered softly, a mix of desire and apprehension knotting in your stomach.
You knew what was coming, and so did he, because his grip on his cock tightened, a hunger burning in his eyes. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Give it to me, baby. Just let it out.”
Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, you finally surrendered, feeling a rush of fluid escaping your body as you reached your high. The force of the liquid pushed the toy out of you, and you gasped, your body arching involuntarily in response to the overwhelming sensation. Your back arched, your head thrown back, and your eyes closed, letting the intense pleasure consume you entirely.
Every nerve ending seemed to tingle with ecstasy as the wave of release washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. With a shuddering breath, you collapsed onto the bed, spent and satisfied, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your climax.
In the haze of post-orgasmic bliss, you felt his presence beside you, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. You steadied your breathing as he pulled you closer, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your sweaty face.
“See?” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “I knew you could do it.”
With a contented sigh, you nuzzled closer to him, reveling in his warmth. “Will you fuck me now?”
He laughed, the sound rich and full of affection. “Maybe we should wait for a while, let you calm down.”
You pulled back and gave him a look. “Spencer.”
With a playful smirk, he leaned in to pepper soft kisses along your jawline, trailing down to your neck. The warmth of his lips against your skin sent shivers of anticipation through your body.
And then he slipped off his clothes, and when he finally settled between your legs, pushing his throbbing cock into your dripping walls, you cling onto him desperately. Because nothing could compare to the pleasure he brought you, leaving you feeling whole and complete in a way that no toy ever could.
1K notes · View notes
slvttyplum · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
giving head to eren was like walking down the stairs then back up, it didnt take him that long to finish. every time he would finish, his face would go red and he would collapse on the bed with his hands hiding his sheepish expression.
its not like it bothered you, if anything it made you happy that he liked your mouth so much that he can cum in under five mintues, but eren thought otherwise.
"do it again. i can hold out." something he said every single time, so you did just that, for a little entertainment but also in hopes that he can actually do it.
so you got on your knees and slipped in between his legs and placed one head steady on the base of his length and slowly licked his tip. a warm tingle traveling up his spine as his eyes struggle to stay open, and his toes already curling.
there was something so hot and arousing about you on your knees beneath him sucking him in, maybe that's why he came so fast, because he was looking at your face the whole time while pushing his dick deep in your throat.
eren leaned back and balled the sheets beneath him in the palm of his hands and closed his eyes, trying to distract himself, but the way your tongue was teasing him made his head spin. a little bit of drool trickling out the side of his mouth.
you look up at him and smirk as you push your head down deeper on his length and start stroking as your saliva moves down into your hand, a wince and jolt coming out his mouth as he lets out a quiet sigh trying to keep his composure.
"fuck... not too much." another sigh leaving his mouth as you disregard everything he says and start licking the tip of his dick at rapid speed. another moan leaving his lips as he feel himself reaching peak.
he's trying his hardest but your mouth just feels too good on his dick. its so soft and warm, makes him feel like he's floating on a cloud, and just like that, while he was getting lost in his thoughts, he came, right in your mouths.
his eyes quickly opening and leaning down grabbing your jaw and pushing your cheeks inward.
"wait, wait! spit it out, i can go again!"
1K notes · View notes
leascorner · 3 months
Text
b.b. | With child
Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.
Pairing:  Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader
Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.
Words Count: 2.1k
Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!
Tumblr media
“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.
Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.
His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.
You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.
He did not mind, or so he thought…
Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.
Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.
The ride home that night was particularly quiet.
Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.
On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.
He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?
He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.
When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.
Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.
Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.
“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.
Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.
You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.
Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.
He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.
He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.
He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.
In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.
All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.
It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.
“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.
“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.
He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:
“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”
“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”
“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.
It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.
“My love, this is not your fault.”
“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.
“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”
“Ben, of course, no!”        
“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.
You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.
He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.
“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”
“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.
Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.
“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”
“Ben, of course, I want your children!”
Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.
If he could not tell you, he could still show you…
Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.
“We should just take some time away from here.”
“What do you mean? The season only began-”
“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”
Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.
His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.
“France, it is then.”
Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.
One of the many to come.
2K notes · View notes
wintfleur · 2 months
Note
I am in hungry for a f1 fic….. pls feed me
౨ৎ dramatic mornings are perfect with you
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )
°. — summary ( lando will always deal with your dramatics . . . because even so early in the morning he finds you adorable )
°. — details ( g; fluff, humor ig?. w; none really, a little talk of readers boobs. wc; 1.9k )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I am hungry for some f1 fics too . . I’ve missed writing for f1, I’m sure I’ll be writing more now that the season has started !!! Hope this satisfies your hunger <333 please let me know what you guys think x )
main masterlist f1 masterlist
You let out an annoyed sigh as you laced your fingers across your midsection and on top of your duvet, your thumbs absentmindedly tapping against each other. Your eyes darted to the right to see that he still hasn't moved at all, no reaction from him as he slept peacefully next to you, the sun that shone through your white curtains illuminating his face so beautifully. 
You furrowed your eyebrows and looked away from him and back up at your ceiling, a small huff leaving your lips. You continued to tap your thumbs against each other for a few more moments only to abruptly stop as an even louder sigh left your lips. You quickly turn your head to face him when you hear the familiar sound of the blankets shift, and a grumpy frown comes across your face when you see him snuggle into his pillow, instead of waking up and asking you what's wrong like you expected him to do. 
The more you stared at your oblivious and sleeping boyfriend, the more annoyed you got. His beautiful brown curls were all over the place ⸺ a physical testimony to how he can't stay still even in bed. Those beautiful curls that girl had the nerve to run her hands through. His cheek was squished against your baby pink pillow, soft breaths leaving his slightly parted lips. The same lips that smiled down at the girl and kissed her forehead . . . you couldn't believe it when you saw it. 
Well to clarify  . . . you didn't see it. You dreamt it . . . But that's not the point! 
You looked away from your sleeping boyfriend and to your left where your bedside table was, your pink cloud alarm clock showed that it was 7 in the morning. You and lando both refused to be up so early on days off like today, but while your boyfriend was sleeping peacefully ⸺ you couldn't find yourself being able to go back to sleep after the dream you had. 
You rolled over on your side facing lando and leaned up on your elbow, you still had a grumpy frown on your lips as you stared down at him. You had to stop yourself from bringing your hand down and softly brush his curls out of his face and remind yourself that you were in fact upset with him. How could you not be after what he did? 
You used your free hand and moved it towards him, pulling the blanket down from covering his shoulder before poking him right in the ribs. Your first poke got no reaction since it was too soft, so your second one was much harder and the only reaction you got was a groan leaving his parted lips and him moving to lay fully on his stomach instead of laying on his side. You ignored the awe you wanted to let out when he does that adorable nose scrunch as he snuggles deeper into your pillows. 
“Lando” you hissed his name but the only reaction you got from him was him turning his head away from you, a dramatic and offended gasp leaving your lips at the action. You glare at the back of his hand and fully sit up. You bring your finger up to his shoulder blade and his cotton t-shirt did nothing to protect him from the feeling of your relentless poking. 
“Darling if you poke me again” Lando grumbled groggily as he lifted his head up from the pillow and turned to face you, his eyes were barely open and he had a red hue and a few line marks from your pillow on his face, all signs of having a great sleep ⸺ a great sleep you interrupted, any other morning you would have felt bed . . . but today was not one of them. 
“You're what?. . . going to cheat on me again?” 
“What?” Lando choked on his own spit, his tone filled with confusion and grogginess. He pushed himself up on his elbows, the movement causing the blanket to fully fall off his back and you to feel a cold chill on your bare thighs; your sleep shorts not helping against the morning chill. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms and turned his head to look at you, his eyes narrowed “What on earth are you talking about ⸺ are you feeling sick? Because you are talking mad” 
You slapped his hand away from your forehead that he was trying to feel for a fever and glared at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. “What's sick is what you let her do . . . would you stop staring at my tits!” You trailed off into a shout once you noticed your boyfriend's eyes staring down at your white lace camisole covered chest. 
You gasped dramatically and pulled the pillow out from under his elbows and used it to cover your chest “I bet you couldn't keep your eyes off her tits! Could you?” your tone was accusatory, and your grumpy frown turns into a sad one at the thought, you held the pillow tightly to your chest for some comfort. Lando loved your boobs . . . it hurt to think that he was staring at someone else's. 
“Darling, i have no idea who this she is” Lando said as he moved to sit up, his fingers in air quotes as he says ‘she’. Lando moves closer to you and gently pulls down the pillow you stuffed your face in and continues speaking, your words had chased away any ounce of tiredness in his body “But i can assure you, that your boobs, your wonderful boobs may i add, are the only ones i stare at.”
“You cheated on me, i am not going to fall for your sweet words lando” 
“When did I cheat on you hmm?” Lando questioned you, tilting his head with a hum. He knew for a fact that he has never and will never cheat on you, so he was confused and concerned why you were passionate that he did. You were too upset to notice the concern in your boyfriend's tone and you were quick to answer him “In my dream! You let her run her hands through your hair and down your chest and then you had the nerve to kiss her forehead!” 
“Wait wait wait . . . your dream?” Lando cut your rant off, a look of disbelief on his face from your words. This was all because of your dream? Lando thought. And even though Lando felt the tiniest of annoyance from being woken up so early, he couldn't help but find the situation and the way you were acting . . . adorable. “Yes, my dream, keep up lan!” you rolled your eyes in annoyance and lando let himself relax back in bed, laying back down and pulling you down with him. You reluctantly let yourself lay on your side, facing him. 
“You're annoyed with me?” Lando muttered as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he stared at his girlfriend, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. 
“Clearly” 
“For something that I did in your dream?” He had to stop himself from smiling when he asked you, he didn't know why it was so attractive to see you jealous about a dream. You noticed his lips twitching up into a smile for a few seconds before falling into his resting face. A dramatic scoff leaves your lips, and you are quick to turn your back to him, upset that he wasn't taking this seriously. 
Lando smiles and scoots closer behind you, sliding his arm around your waist and resting it under the pillow you were still holding against your chest, using his strength to pull you back snug against him. You wanted to complain and push him off, but you couldn't help but let yourself sink and relax in his warm embrace. Lando who was still leaning up on his elbow looks down at your side profile as he speaks softly “I’m sorry i did that darling, dream me is very stupid it seems.” 
“But that was just a dream because I promise you, you are the only girl I want. The only girl whose tits I want and do look at” Lando leaned down as he trailed off into a whisper, your breath hitching when you felt his warm breath against your neck as he whispers in your ear. Lando slipped his hand under your camisole and softly traced random shapes on your stomach as he continued to whisper “The only forehead i want to kiss is yours.” 
You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling at your boyfriend's words, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing his sweet talking was in fact working. Lando moves his hand out from under your top and softly places two of his fingers on your jaw, gently using them to tilt your face towards him. Lando has a small pout on his very kissable lips as he looks down at you “Baby please don't be mad at me because dream me is an idiot, you know I’d never do that to you.” 
“You're right . . . you are an idiot” you whispered back with a small nod as you adjusted your body to lay on your back. You lifted your hand to brush back some of Lando's messy curls from his face as he looked down at you. Lando's eyes fluttered closed for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of you playing with his hair before he opened them and looked down at you with a big smile “You mean dream me, right?” 
You shrugged playfully, the corner of your lips tilting up into a cheeky smile. Lando gasped dramatically, faking shock and hurt at your words. You thought he was going to bring his hand to dramatically put over his heart like your dramatic boyfriend has done before, when you saw him move it from your chin, but instead he rests it on the pillow right next to your head; caging you in between his body and the bed. 
You locked eyes with your boyfriend and before you could question why he was smirking down at you like that, he was leaning down and leaving a big smooch on your cheek. He quickly moved to your other cheek, then he littered kisses all over your face. Making sure that he kissed every inch of your beautiful face. “Eww lan morning breath” you whined out as you tried to cover your face with your hands, worried that he would smell your breath. 
“My girl thinks I’d cheat on her with some random girl from the club ⸺ morning breath is the last thing on my mind right now” Lando whispered as he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip before moving it up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. You smile softly as you hear him say ‘my girl’. You whisper with an embarrassed sigh as you think back on the morning you two have shared “I've been pretty dramatic haven't I?” 
“You're so adorable you know that right?” Lando grinned, completely ignoring your question. Yes, you were, but he wouldn't change anything about you at all. He wouldn't change anything about this morning. Because he woke up with you by his side. You smile and bite your lip, absentmindedly fidgeting with the bottom of Lando's shirt “Mind telling me that again?” 
“I promise to tell you that every day for the rest of our lives.” 
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I LOVE THIS SM !!! I MISSED WRITING CUTE BF LANDO, please let me know that you guys think, and if you’d like to be added to my lando or my f1 taglist 🫶🏻 )
°. — taglist ( @ophcelia @cixrosie @toasttt11 )
2K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 2 months
Note
I love your writing sm, it's just what I needed μ_μ Do you think you could write Leon being the father of reader's idiot ex who just broke up with her? Leon just wants to console her and the reader only thinks about all the sexual tension they had for a while and now they have nothing to stop them.
(sorry if my english is bad, luv ya)
Tumblr media
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son breakup
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap
word count: 5.3k
a/n: dilf leon you KNOW i love that. thank you so much for your request. i hope you like it! i used death island for the picture, but imagine leon in his late forties for this. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi
Tumblr media
Leon lets out a deep sigh as he yanks the keys out of the ignition and his car's engine fizzles out. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks down at his lap. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head before looking out the window at your apartment building. He’d been told you lived on the fourth floor.
He opens the door next, stepping out into the cold air. The sun was nowhere to be found today, the sky completely masked by a collection of gray clouds. He walks around to the back of the car and pops the trunk open to collect the box of memories he’d been tasked with returning to you.
He didn’t understand how he’d ended up with this job. Despite his numerous daydreams he wished he could forget, you weren’t ever his girlfriend. He hadn’t been the one you’d come over to visit. You didn’t fall asleep in his room or wear his t-shirts or kiss him goodbye when you left. He hadn’t been the one to cheat on you or make you cry for days on end either. No. That’d been his son.
So why was he the one going out of his way to bring you this stuff? That was what he couldn’t comprehend.
Well that’s not exactly true. He comprehended just fine. His son planned on throwing out your stuff that’d been left at his house, remnants of your eight months together. Leon didn’t want that. He’d told his son to pack it up and take it to you like a man should. He had been the one in the wrong after all. But no, his son argued up and down, coming up with every reason under the sun as to why it was better to just throw it away. So Leon just gave up. He knew if he commanded it, his son would just shove your shit in a box and drive down the street to throw it from the window of his moving car. The car Leon paid for.
Truth be told, he always had a soft spot for you. A chamber of his heart that was coated in guilt, surrounded by denial, but internally the sweetest part of him. The one piece of his soul that saw some light in the world that had gone dark for him years ago. So just for you, Leon drove the thirty minutes to your complex to deliver your belongings.
He picks up the cardboard box and tucks it under his arm. The trunk slams with a loud thump, and he’s thinking of what he’s even going to say to you when you open the door. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if you were home. He had a pretty good idea of your schedule from the time you’d spend on the phone with his son or at his house, but he didn’t even check to be sure.
In the midst of mentally scolding himself, the bottom of the box bursts, and your items go tumbling out onto the pavement. He tries to catch them, but his fingers just miss. Another sigh seeps from his lungs as he crouches down to scoop them up. He picks up a pink hoodie that’d been crumpled up at the foot of his son’s bed, a stuffed bear he saw him pull from the crack between the mattress and the wall, and a bracelet that laid abandoned on the nightstand. He collects other little pieces of you scattered across the damp concrete before managing to situate them in his arms and resume walking to you.
He tosses the broken box into the nearby trash before entering the building and going down the hall and to the elevator. From what he saw, the place was alright. You didn’t live in luxury, but he was relieved he wouldn’t be left worrying about your safety after he left.
The elevator glides up to your floor in total silence with him being the only one in the small space. The little ding that marks his arrival releases a burst of anxiety within him. He felt so dumb. He was nervous like he was your and his son’s age. He pushes those feelings away and gets himself to be normal, to act his age. All he had to do was knock, shove this shit in your arms, and leave.
On the way down the hall to your unit, he realizes this plan means this will probably be the last time he ever sees you. Spare some chance encounter at the grocery store, this would be the final time he’d feel your sweet eyes on him or see that timid smile when he complimented you. That made him sad to think about. He never thought you’d be a permanent fixture in his life. You and his son were young, and being the type of guy his son was, he doubted your relationship was destined to succeed. In honesty, he was shocked it lasted as long as it did. But now, the ending was real. Knowing the time with you in his life was coming to a close felt how the sky outside looked.
Once he reaches the door with your number on it, his fist taps the wood twice. He hears soft shuffling inside, followed by the sound of locks being undone a couple moments later. You crack the door open, standing there in your pajamas. Both your top and bottoms were plain gray. You looked worn down. He could tell you’d been crying. Poor baby.
Your tired eyes flicker with curiosity when they glance up at his face. 
“Mr. Kennedy?” you ask with confusion.
His mouth breaks into a charming grin upon hearing that. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leon before it sticks?” he teases.
“Sorry…” you say. You didn’t smile at his teasing like normal. Given the circumstances, he supposed that made sense. “What are you doing here?”
“I have some of your stuff you left at my house. Can I come in?” he asks.
Now your eyes flash with a brief spout of anger, but you still open the door wider for him to enter.
“He couldn’t bring it to me?” you ask with clear bitterness in your tone.
He cringes at the sound. What was he supposed to say? In reality, he was on your side, but wouldn’t it be wrong to tell you that? He loved his son. He really did. Even with all the mistakes he made and the flaws he’d caused the boy, he loved him. He probably shouldn’t talk shit about him with his ex-girlfriend.
But at the same time, it was you. You weren’t just some random ex-girlfriend. He’d known you for the better half of a year. You were sweet, actually polite enough to say hello when you came over. You could hold a conversation. And sure, it didn’t hurt any that you were cute too. He felt something strong for you. He just struggled to articulate exactly what that something was. He was tempted to say you’d become part of the family. That’s probably what plenty of others in his situation would say. But the shameful thoughts that plagued his mind when he was alone late at night begged to differ with that assessment
Right now, it didn’t look like you were doing well. He sees the setup you have for yourself on the couch. A heap of blankets, pushed and twisted up around the spot you’d clearly been laying before he interrupted. The curtains were drawn, it was dark in here. You didn’t need him to run defense for the guy who cheated on you, relations aside.
“Guess not,” is how he finally answers your question to which he’s met with a roll of your eyes.
“Of course,” you mutter while walking over to meet him at the counter so you can inspect your items after he puts them down.
You rifle through the different things, scanning them haphazardly before returning your disinterested gaze to him. Your arms cross over your chest, and you shrug.
“Thanks, I guess.”
You’re clearly expecting him to leave now. And he knows that’s what he should do. Awkwardly shuffle out the door with a small wave goodbye. He can’t though. Something inside him won’t let him pull away just yet.
“How have you been?” he starts tentatively, “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” 
“Fine… I guess,” you answer.
You guess. Again. A nervous tick. An indicator of deflection. You clearly didn’t want to delve into the inner workings of your broken heart with the father of the man responsible. He should back off. But he doesn’t.
“Are you sure? I know you two are broken up now or whatever you want to call it, but I still care about you, you know? You’re a sweet girl,” he starts, hating how this was coming out, “I just… I know how it is to feel alone. I don’t want that for you. If you need someone to talk to…”
“I should come to you? Is that it?” you say, a bit harsher than he would like.
“Well… yeah?” he responds.
You turn away, cutting him off from seeing your reactions. “That’s nice, Leon. But… I don’t think you’re the one I should talk to about any of this,” you say.
He takes a step closer, laying a cautious hand on your shoulder. “I think I’m the perfect one for you to talk to about this,” he says.
His reasoning is brief, but he doesn’t feel the need for more. Despite your resistance, the gears in your head are turning, deciding whether or not to take the offer. “There’s nothing to even talk about. It is what it is,” you reply. He can hear that characteristic softness returning to your voice.
“I don’t think that’s true. You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, getting even closer. He gently guides you back to the couch and clears some space for the two of you to sit. He directs your eyes back to him before he finishes speaking. “It’ll stay between us.”
You look up at him, sweet glossy eyes threatening to spill your emotions down your cheeks. He can see your apprehension, but in the end, you still decide to go for it.
“I just… I feel so dumb,” you start, biting your lip.
“You shouldn’t,” he tells you.
“But I do,” you say, voice becoming strained, “People told me he would do something like this, and I actually defended him. I’m so stupid, and everyone knows it now.”
While he wasn’t too pleased to learn of his son’s reputation, his sympathy for you overwhelms that. His hand rubs up and down your back as your head falls to your hands.
“Sweetheart…” he sighs, the term rolling out before he can stop himself, “It’s not your fault. It’s not a bad thing to be trusting.”
He sees your face tense as you lose the battle to hold your tears in. His heart aches seeing you look so defeated.
“Yes it is,” you cry, “I hate it.”
“Hey, c’mere,” he says and pulls you closer. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and holds you to his side. “Don’t talk like that about yourself, ok? Being cheated on doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”
He felt slightly awkward considering the cheater in question is his own flesh and blood. The feeling of your soft body against him overrides that thought though. You’re still weeping into his chest, so he continues.
“Look, baby,” he says. Another pet name. His mind screams for him to get a grip. “I love my son, but… I know him too. He can be insensitive, and that’s not what a girl like you needs.”
You look up at him, interested in his potential point. In your eyes, he feels he can see his reflection glaring back at him with disapproval.
“You’re such a precious thing. Someone to be handled with care,” he whispers, stroking your jaw, “I don’t want this to take that from you.”
More tears roll down your cheeks while you take in his words. He swipes a couple away with his thumb as he talks to you.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. With my ex-wife, with my son, with my work. Christ, just with my life in general.” Why was he telling you this? “I look at you, and you remind me of who I was before those mistakes. I know stuff like this can make you bitter, and I just don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t need to blame yourself for what he did or try to keep how you feel inside. Once you get past this, you’re gonna move onto something better for you. I just don’t want you to forget that.”
He watches your lip quiver harder before the floodgates finally burst. Now that he’d given you permission, you don’t hold back. A sob tumbles from your lips. He immediately goes to pull you closer again, but this time you take it upon yourself. His eyes widen as you scoot into his lap.
It’s as if he acts on instinct though. As soon as you have your face buried against his throat, his arms loop around you in return. One hand rubs the expanse between your shoulder blades while the other simply supports the small of your back.
“Sweet baby…” he whispers.
“He told me he loved me,” you weep. He can feel your warm tears dripping down his skin now.
“I’m sure he did, honey,” he says and rocks back and forth with you a bit.
Now you really unload. You cry against him about basically every wrongdoing his son had committed in your time together. He compared you to other girls, told you that you were too needy, forgot your birthday. And Leon listens to it all, not playing devil’s advocate even once.
Guilt burns hot in his chest though. Nevertheless, he tries to convince himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just helping a poor, hurting girl in need. But that excuse crumbles when he simply thinks about what his son would say to the sight of his ex-girlfriend curled up on his father’s lap, clinging to him like he was her new man.
His mind continued trying to justify this anyways, putting forth the idea that this was out of his control. He was powerless when it came to situations like this. The life he led so far had wired a savior complex into his brain. He couldn’t resist you, another princess he could restore to her pedestal.
That was definitely part of why he didn’t put you back on the couch and slowly begin to make an exit. The other part was less honorable. Despite his mind’s ideas of noble motivations, deep down he knew part of this was selfishness. Being human, he wasn’t gonna complain about a pretty young girl warming his lap. And being himself, he certainly wasn’t going to complain because that girl happened to be you. The guilt he felt faded instantly with one look at your doe face or one word from your tender voice.
“None of that is your fault,” he comforts you once you finish your list and breaks away from his thoughts, “You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“I know…” you whimper before another sob comes from you, “I hate him so much. But it’s even worse cause I still miss him.”
That shoots a sharp pang of jealousy through his heart to which he mentally slaps himself. God, you made him feel pathetic, but in a way he didn’t want to admit, that was part of the appeal. He holds you tighter and nuzzles the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.
“That’s ok. It’s only natural,” he coos and continues soothing you.
“Why do I miss him? How do I make it stop?” you cry, your voice cracking.
Fuck. You really did remind him of himself which only made this more twisted. He knew what you were feeling so well. That longing ache that festers inside until you feel like clawing your skin off and prying your ribs apart to purge yourself of the infection. He sighs and shifts you on his thigh, pulling you closer to him.
“You can’t make it go away. You know that. It’s a time-heals-all-wounds situation, sweetheart. Just gotta wait it out, but it’ll get better,” he says.
Then he must have truly gone over the edge because he leans in and presses a faint kiss to your hairline. Luckily for him, you don’t protest. Instead, it draws more tears from you. Your arms lock around him and pull the rest of your body closer
“I just feel empty, and I don’t know why. He wasn’t that great… no offense,” you sniffle.
“None taken,” he says softly, a small smile rising on his lips. He keeps rubbing your back, resting his head on top of yours. “Most breakups hurt, even when you’ve run the course of the relationship. It’s not fun losing someone.”
It wouldn’t be fun losing you. That was for fucking sure. He was only making it worse for himself by doing all this. At this point, he wasn’t sure how he’d manage to tear himself away once you stopped crying.
“I guess,” you whimper, lip puffing out into a sweet pout he’d only ever seen as a joke before.
“You’re such a sensitive girl, honey. So delicate,” he murmurs against your hair. He knows he should stop. He’s toeing the borderline, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from hurdling over it at full force.
“I’m overdramatic,” you correct.
He scoffs, dismissing your claim. “Did someone tell you that? Because they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re precious,” he whispers with another kiss to your head.
That word seems to strike something in you. Your crying that had been dwindling seems to soften down to an occasional ragged breath. You look up at him with your watery eyes. He continues to push away remaining tears on your cheeks before running his knuckles down your jaw.
As he looks into your eyes, the temptation becomes irresistible. He needs you.
“Sweet thing like you… you need someone who can understand you, protect those feelings of yours, not make you feel bad about ‘em,” he says, his thumb dragging over your chin.
“You think so?” you ask.
“Oh yeah. There’s nothing wrong with wearing your heart on your sleeve,” he says teasingly, “All it means is that you care. Plus, this may be just me, but I think it’s pretty cute.”
Your teary eyes widen just the slightest amount, and your hips squirm a bit on his lap. You look down at your fingers fidgeting with one another.
“I don’t know,” you say quietly.
“I do. You’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he mutters and lifts your chin to get you to look at him again, “You have puppy eyes, just begging for some love.”
A shy smile starts spreading on your face. Your eyes cast down, and he knows he’s got you hooked. Now he just has to reel you in.
“Yeah, you know it’s true,” he whispers and leans in to kiss your cheeks, “Bet you have a lot of fun using ‘em on people.”
“No,” you say timidly, eyes glancing back up at him.
“Oh, of course not. A little angel like you would never take advantage,” he teases. He kisses across your cheek bone to your temple, and then moves his lips down to where your jaw meets your neck. He can hear your breath hitching. His hands pull you closer to his body, feeling your warmth up against him. One slides to your side, rubbing up and down slowly.
“That’s why you need to be taken care of,” he breathes against your skin, “Let me take care of you, baby.”
You nod with no hesitation on your part. He can tell from the breath you let out that you're giving into some temptations of your own. Your head leans in and he ducks down to connect your lips, nearly groaning as he feels the plush flesh press against him. The kisses start off tender, just little pecks as you explore the feeling of each other. But they soon grow in passion. Your mouths open against each other. Your tongues meet, and spit coats one another's lips. You’re both breathing heavier.
He pulls back to look at you, those eyes he had been going on about now clouded with lust. Moving in for a few more, he cups your face. “You like that?” he murmurs.
“Mhm,” you hum, reciprocating the affection. 
He chuckles as you move in even closer, the swell of your breasts pushing up against his chest. His hands squeeze your waist and turn you around so your back is to his front, your head tilted on his shoulder.
“Pretty baby, so eager for me,” he coos as his hands smooth up your stomach to your chest. He fondles your tits through your top, feeling their entirety since you weren’t wearing a bra.
The softest noise of satisfaction leaves you, and you nip at his lips. He deepens the kiss in response, groping you a bit harder. Your hands travel South to his belt, attempting to undo behind your back, but his hand drops and grabs your wrists.
“Not yet,” he corrects with a kiss to your temple, “There’s no rush. I want to take my time with you. Warm you up like you deserve.”
His mouth envelopes yours again while his hand releases your wrists and returns to your breast. He can feel your nipples perking up in anticipation. His cock starts to do the same beneath you. As you feel it, you roll your ass back against him, providing some friction. He smiles against your lips, the prior reservations he had about this leaving his mind one by one.
Maneuvering his palms between your thighs, his fingers coast up and down the sensitive skin. His mouth trails down to your neck to kiss you there, sucking soft love bites onto your throat. You’re single now. It’s not like you’d have to hide them.
He parts your legs a bit more before cupping them underneath and pulling you down so that you’re at an angle where he can remove the fluffy pajama pants that kept him from his target. You watch the soft fabric fall away and crumple up on the floor. You’re a little jittery as he exposes your skin now. This is real, no longer a far-fetched fantasy.
His hand is on your pussy in seconds, stroking you through the thin cotton that covers it. The kisses to your throat don’t stop, and his free hand keeps you in place on his lap.
“Those college boys you’ve been running around with are too busy thinking with their dicks. They don’t know what to do with a prize like you,” he murmurs and drags his nose up the curve of your face.
He chooses to forget the fact that the boy you had been running around with was his son. That didn’t need to matter right now. All that mattered was the whimper that fell from you, the way your hair felt against the crook of his neck. His fingers play with you a little more before sliding into your panties.
“Aw, you’re already getting wet, hm?” he purrs, “Precious girl. Probably so pent up. Never been properly fucked the way you shoulda been.”
You nod and turn your head to look into his eyes. He takes the chance to kiss you again, working his mouth with yours while his fingers coasted through your folds.
“Need you to make it better,” you mumble against his lips.
You feel his smirk and how he kisses with increased fervor. The pads of his fingers swirl around your clit, eliciting a tiny gasp from you.
“Not a problem, baby. You’re not leaving my lap till you can’t remember why you were crying in the first place,” he whispers.
You sigh with content and resume languidly making out. His fingertips are rough on the smooth skin of your center, dragging over your sweet spots with the best friction you’d ever felt. Your body arches into his touch. You actually want more. A refreshing feeling for you.
He continues focusing on your sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking over it, pressing small circles into it, swiping down across it. Occasionally, he’d massage lower, teasing your entrance and feeling the arousal pooling from his actions.
“You like how I’m playing with you? Feel good having that clit touched? It’s so sensitive, just like the rest of you,” he breathes.
You nod again,  a desperate whine unraveling out of you. He chuckles and speeds up his fingers.
“I knew you would. You’re beyond the little boys who thrust a few times and leave you wanting for more. Think it’s pretty obvious you need a real man,” he says.
He didn’t even know where half this stuff was coming from, but he wasn’t gonna launch an investigation into it. It worked for you, so it was working for him.
Your hips buck as he maintains a steady pace and even amount of pressure. He rubbed you just the way you liked, as if he knew your body on an instinctual level.
“You’re gonna cum just from my fingers. You can do it. Have you gushing already before I slip my cock in you,” he murmurs against your skin.
His fingers have started making wet noises as they slide up and down on your cunt. You mewl and tense up, relishing the pleasure he brought you. You whimper out his name quietly, over and over. Leon. Specifically him.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s the one making you feel so good? Who’s the one you’ve needed all along?”
You gasp it again for him. Leon.
“Good girl,” he growls.
He moves his fingers with more precision and dedication, taking you right to the blissful edge and letting you crash over it. Watching how your body writhes on his lap, he holds you through it. He makes sure to keep you up right.
You feel lightning strike within you, the storm of euphoria swirling in the pit of your stomach. You let go all over his fingers, and thoroughly coat his hand with your release. He goes in for more, sliding his fingers down as if they’re going to dip inside you, but you whine in protest.
“Leon… don’t wanna wait anymore,” you whimper.
He chuckles at your impatience and shakes his head.
“You talk about it like you’ve been waiting forever when it’s only been a couple minutes,” he teases.
“Feels like forever,” you pout.
He kisses your frown and pulls your underwear off completely. He then turns you around on his lap to face him.
“You ready for the real thing then?” he breathes, smirking at your quick confirmation.
He boosts his hips off the couch and shoves his pants down enough so that his cock can spring free. It bobs up in anticipation. His hand grasps it, sliding it against your entrance. 
After a few teasing swipes, he sinks you down on it, savoring every small change in your expression. Your eyes flutter, your mouth lolls open slightly, your brows furrow.
“Oh, I can tell that’s what you’ve been needing,” he whispers, guiding your hips into a rhythm.
You bounce up and down on him, breathy moans escaping you with each rise and fall.
“Mhm, wanted it for so long,” you whine.
His eyebrow raises at that. “Yeah?” he grunts, sharply inhaling as you squeeze around him, “How long? How bad did you want it?”
“So bad. Wanted it for months,” you confess as your head falls back, “Wanted to be yours instead.”
He knows he’s going to hell for the rush of satisfaction that floods his veins. He doesn’t falter though, just pulls you closer and starts thrusting up into you.
“Oh, did you? Dirty secret, baby, but I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he moans before reconnecting his mouth with yours, “Sweet baby like you, wanted you to be all mine.”
A quick moan leaves you, and you keep riding. Your hips roll up and down, working him as deep into you as he can go. Your arousal drips down his heavy balls, making a mess where the two of you connect.
“Dreamed about you sometimes,” you gasp, letting it all out.
His eyes droop with more desire. They shouldn’t, but your revelations only spurred him on. He thrusts up harder and digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips.
“Yeah? Bet you felt so guilty waking up soaked between your legs for someone you couldn’t have,” he says, vision trained on you, “I felt the same way. Hard as a rock for you and no relief.”
“Now there is,” you whimper as you lean down and nuzzle your face against his.
With hot breaths in each other's face, you both feel the cords of release being pulled taut. You bite your lip, and he cages you in against his body, keeping you flush against him.
“Even with that dirty little secret, you’re still such a good girl. Need you to be my good girl,” he mumbles in your ear before moaning, hips tensing as he feels the sweeping sense of euphoria.
You nod dumbly as your own high creeps up on you. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whine before burying your face into his shoulder. Your hands clutch at his biceps, digging little crescents into the muscle.
He fucks you through it, making you see stars and keeping them suspended in your sights. You cling to him and clamp around him. His thrusts get sloppy, but he won’t stop until you’re coming down. That’s when he finally pulls out and gives himself a few strokes to completion, finishing on your ass. He figured you were on the pill, but he wasn’t going to make a riskier chance an even bigger risk.
You feel the warm liquid dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re too fucked out to be concerned with clean up right now though. He smiles down at you and gives you some kisses as a way to cool you off.
Reaching over to the end table, he grabs a few tissues and swipes away the small mess on your backside. After some more soothing affection, the two of you briefly readjust your clothing and get comfy with each other again. He figured this probably wasn’t the best thing he could be doing in this situation. He just fucked his son’s ex and now he was going to cuddle her too? But he does it anyway because it was what you needed, and that was his mind’s priority at the moment.
He thinks about leaving though, reverting to the original plan. He could let you doze off and just slip away. But he doesn’t. You’re too sweet, and you’re hurting. He didn’t want to pile on, but the idea that this shouldn’t develop into more than a passionate fuck still lingers in his mind..
That is until he hears your voice.
“Are you gonna leave?” you ask softly.
He looks down, heart aching at the sight of you.
“Not yet,” he answers.
“Ok good,” you say and sink into him again, “I might need you again later. In case I get sad again.”
He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play innocent. “Guess I’m stuck here then. Can’t have you crying all alone,” he says.
“Mhm,” you hum, leaning up to give him a kiss. One of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had. And just like that, you’re luring him back in.
“You know… maybe I should be proactive, make sure you don’t get the chance to be sad again today…” he murmurs, shifting to lay down on the couch and give you some kisses of his own. “Think you need some more distracting.”
He was done for.
2K notes · View notes
Text
UNTOUCHED. 18+
pairing. dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader
Tumblr media
word count. 2967
summary. you thought your crush on your dad’s best friend would never be reciprocated. but it turns out, that’s not true
warnings. 18+ only!! age gap (20s, 40s) dbf, 'experienced' virgin reader, body worship, titty stuff, fingering, unprotected pinv sex, soft dom bucky. minors dni
rewrote this from a request I did
Tumblr media
You often felt a spiral of shame surrounding your thoughts. Thoughts that no one should be having of a parents friend. 
And yet, it was happening. 
These abashed notions of your father's best friend clouded your mind far too regularly for you not to question your moral judgment. You would often find moments where you told yourself lies to feel better, saying that it was natural to feel this way about someone you can't have - someone you shouldn't have. But with most things in life, the more you can't have it, the more you want it.
This impromptu lakehouse vacation with your parents and said friend has been the most challenging strain on your ethical code. Every stolen glance feeling that much more intimate, given the circumstance. Almost confined within the same household for the past several days - forced into family dinners, nudged into game nights, all of it intensifying your attraction towards him.
These thoughts of utter infatuation continue as you watch Bucky and your dad at the pool table across the room, your pen tapping rhythmically on your chin as you pretend to think about the words on the notepad. Your perfect little ruse while you gawk at the hunky man leaning over the felt table, large bicep flexed with the cue slotted underneath.
Staring at him like that with eyes so eager and attentive made you feel juvenile —pathetic— the whirlwind of schoolgirl-like emotions that followed with a crush so prohibited made you feel confused. It would've been easier to take a liking to a guy your own age, to a guy you'd maybe have a shot with, but no. It was on someone completely off-limits and someone you should not be thinking of in the way you do.
The illogical connotations that followed with the infatuation seemed to heighten everything - everything within your little delusion growing more and more dramatised. 
So now, when you meet Bucky's momentary gaze from across the way for the fifth time, you begin to overthink everything, all prior thoughts spiralling out of control. With an uneasy inhale, you briefly drop your head into your hands and then collect your things, bunching everything into a pile - leaving it neatly on the coffee table.
You slip out of the main room, going undetected as you head for your bedroom across the house. Once within your own space, you take a moment to compose yourself - to give yourself a second to regulate the dirty thoughts that hogged the rational parts of your brain. 
But to no avail, it fails. 
Instead, you make your way into your ensuite and turn on the water, hoping that your second shower of the night will clean your mind this time.
You allow yourself some time in the shower, standing in near silence as you lather the soapy loofah on your skin, doing everything you can to fight off the want. All earlier feelings slowly being replaced by a slither of sanctity.
After a short while, you shut off the water and wrap a towel around your body, patting yourself dry before rubbing on some quick creams. Opening the door, you see an outline of someone sitting on the side of your bed - their —his— broad, upper figure acting as a surely silhouette in the moonlight. 
"You're in the wrong room," you say - speaking softer than you'd have liked. "Shouldn't be in here," you add, gripping your towel tighter.
"No?" Bucky hums, almost pleased. Cocking his head to the side as his eyes slowly rake over you, gaze trailing up the exposed parts of your body that are lit in the moon's cast.
You shake your head, pointing at the door. 
Instead of doing as you asked, he reaches for the lamp on your bedside table and flicks it on. Turning his attention back to you, he scans over your body with that subtle hint of possessiveness he often wears around you. Blue eyes bloomed up, taking you all in. 
You rush over and hastily grab his hand - pulling down on the chained switch to turn it off. But his hand underneath yours pulls back down on it, letting in a gentle flood of light, allowing him to see you clearly again. 
And only now do you really see his face. Eyes primal as they look up at you standing between his spread thighs, hand wrapped tightly over his on the pull-chain. Keeping his focus on you, he brings his spare hand up to rest on your hip, palm grazing along the towel covering the curve.
"Saw you looking at me earlier," he finally speaks, words faint and low as he slips his hands into both of yours - holding them.
You gently shake your head and divert your gaze to your hands, looking down at the difference in size - how his large ones almost engulf yours. "I don't know what you're talking about," you lie, tone breathy. 
He brings your hands towards his face and places a soft kiss on the back of each, keeping his eyes locked at you from above. "Liar," he whispers into the skin. "Thought your parents taught you not to lie."
"Don't talk about them," you utter, breath catching in your chest, watching your hands in his. 
"You don't want them to know you got a thing for your old man's friend?" he asks, voice silky as he fiddles with your fingers. The act like a tender caress, his big, rough hands uncharacteristically gentle with you - everything like you pictured them to be. 
You shake your head a singular time, the motion faint.
"I don't want my friend to know I have a thing for his daughter either."
Meeting his now earnest eyes, you see that he held truth within his confession - his expression purely genuine under your focus. His fingers continue with the playful teasing in yours, his sole attention locked on you standing between his wide-spread thighs.
He carefully releases your hands and lets them hang at your sides, your fingertips skimming at his knees. Your eyes hone in on him, intently watching him resume his visual survey of you.
His hands reach for the opening of your towel, looking up to a hesitant expression on your face - features pulled together with uncertainty. This was all so foreign to you, and you didn't know what do to with yourself. You've wanted this so bad, for so long, but now that it was actually and finally about to happen, you felt at a loss. 
"You haven't done this before?" he asks rhetorically, knowing what that tentative look means.
With your silence, his question gets answered. That same possessive expression resurfacing. 
He weaves a finger to the opening at the bottom of the towel, hooking it aside to reveal the very upper of your thigh - the soft, plushy skin looking the more tempting. 
"I'll be gentle with you," he whispers, voice hoarse as his finger slips higher, exposing the crease just under your hip bone - that irresistible line right next to your cunt. "You tell me to stop, and I will."
Though no words come from your lips - silently agreeing.
With his singular finger parting higher, the towel untucks from its hold around your chest, the fabric undoing and falling to the floor - pooling around your feet as you stand naked in front of him. His fully clothed self juxtaposing the sheer bareness of you. 
His attention dances over your body slowly, taking all of you in - letting the image curate in his brain for safekeeping. Eyes temporarily focus in on your tits a mere foot away from his face, slowly travelling down your stomach and finally to the beautiful, tempting, untouched thing between your thighs. Your pussy.
He places his palms back over your hips, hands almost dwarfing you as he guides you closer - making you take a step towards him. 
"So no one has ever..." he starts, bringing his hands up to cup your tits. "Seen them, touched them?" he asks, rolling them gently, eyes flicking up at you.
"No," you utter, bottom lip bitten as you eagerly watch him palm your breasts. 
"Good," he murmurs, brushing his thumbs over the perk nipples. 
The action causes a hitch in your breath, his touch so unlike that of your own during late-night solo sessions - the feeling of another person's touch coating your body with goosebumps.
He leans in closer to you and presses a kiss into your rib, the faint contact of his lips on your skin making you shudder. Though, he doesn't pull away. He continues with a trail of soft kisses up the underneath part of one of your tits, lips grazing along the dome-like shape - eyes locked on yours.
He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, wrapping his lips around it - tongue flicking over it leisurely between kisses. Shame and lust and excitement rise to heat your cheeks, and you drop your head backwards at the feeling, puffed lips parting as you squeeze your eyes shut. 
"Feel good, hm?" he muffles against the plush of your tit, moving to the other - giving it the same attention. 
You hum sweetly, mind blank. You bring your hands to rest on Bucky's broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the swell of his muscle as you use him for stability - thumbs brushing against the base of his neck. You straighten your neck to look down at him, watching the way his lips caress your nipples.
You glide a hand along the side of his head, teasing fingers dragging across his scalp as if to hold him there - like you were trying to keep him glued to you. But he pulls away, and you bashfully rip your hand from its placement in his hair. 
"Sorry."
Resting his hands on your waist, he looks up at you, turning his attention away from the wetness around your nipples. "For what?"
"Think I made it awkward," you whisper.
"When?"
"Now. Just then."
"You didn't," he assures, trailing kisses down the valley of your chest, working featherlight pecks along the top of your abdomen.
"No?"
"No," he confirms.
His hands stroke over your hips, palms light and tender as they caress you. He nudges you forward, making you take another step closer - his grip directing you and making you perch upon his thigh, guiding you to straddle it. 
His placement on your hips slips upwards, moving into a gentle but surely hold in the middle of your back. Like he was taking charge, doing the thinking for you - letting you turn your mind off. 
You loosely drape your arms off his shoulders. "I haven't..." you start, pausing as if to think of the words. "Done... this before."
"I know," he hums and leans in to place a kiss at the base of your throat, trailing them upwards - working up to your jaw. "Don't worry about it. I got it."
With one hand now on the side of your face, the other in its spot on your lower back, he pulls you towards him and rolls over into the mattress, holding you to him as he does so. He repositions you underneath him - hovering from above to your side. Almost cradling you with his lips resuming their previous spot on your throat. 
Bucky leisurely grazes his hand down your stomach, moving steadily towards your inner thighs. He's slow and teasing with it, making you wait - letting the anticipation build impossibly further before he finally slides to where you wanted him. 
He slides the tips of his two middle fingers over your cunt, the pads coating with a creamy sheen of your arousal as he gently parts your folds. Like the feeling of his mouth on your breasts, this sensation was so unlike that of your own. The foreign touch of another person is solely enough to elicit gentle dulcet noises from you.
He pulls his forehead from that spot in the crook of your neck, adjusting to glance down at you - his eyes low and lidded as he looks into your eager ones. Your pretty eyes so trusting and willing under his attention.
He teases his middle finger around your entrance, the pressure almost non-existent as he circles over it. Just slow movements as he watches the knitting of your brows - the rest of your features blissfully pulling together. He's being so softly dominant with you, every touch made with tender precision.
He eases his finger into your cunt, the thickness of it a slight stretch as he curls it up into you, hooking up against that spongy spot. He keeps it there, pressing a kiss into your cheek.
Ever so slowly, he begins rocking it into you - the heel of his palm rubbing nicely against your clit as he does so. He's patient, listening to your body, waiting for it to tell him what it wants. 
Even though you were inexperienced, that didn't mean you don't know your body - know what it wants. You've had years with yourself cultivating your likes, but you've just never had someone to fulfil them. You knew the things you need and where you needed them, and it happened that Bucky knew it, too. He knew it all without you having to voice it. 
His finger pumps into your pussy, the motion a slow, steady rocking, moving into you as if he was trying to familiarise you - get you used to the feeling of having someone else inside of you.
"Listen to how wet you are."
He drags along the inside of your cunt before easing out and bringing his finger up to you, showing you the ringed milky sheen above his last knuckle. He licks over the skin to lap up your arousal - like the act was muscle memory, a process he didn't need to think about.
Your eyes compliant and eager as you look up at him, darting over his face as if to process what had just happened. The warm, fluttery feeling of being indulged pushed you into a tizzy and the look on his face as he did it, expanded the need unbearably further between your thighs.
He coos softly and readjusts you up the length of the bed. Cupping the back of your head, he peels it from the mattress and places a pillow underneath - getting you comfortable. Taking the lead, taking care of you. 
Kneeling between your open thighs, he tugs off his tee, his upper body like everything you had pictured - rugged, sculpted, beefy, a true sight.
And he was on his knees, between your legs.
You lay there somewhat patiently, mind whirling as you watch his hands slip into the waistband of his plaid lounge bottoms, the slight force down on the fabric exposing himself to you. Your eyes rake down his stomach and to his happy trail, eager cock standing attentively below - the sight almost intimidating. 
The first real cock you've seen and sure to ruin all future expectations.
He hovers over you, his weight anchored on a singular hand beside your head - the other wrapped around his cock, stroking himself as he guides his head closer.
"I'll go slow," he whispers, his voice soft and gentle, speaking mere inches from your lips.
You nod, the motion faint as you slip your hands into the sides of his hair, fingers skimming his scalp. Doing what you've read - doing what you've seen, not letting your lack of experience awkwardly taint the moment you've been waiting for. 
With his grip on the base of his cock, he nudges himself closer - his leaking tip pressing up against the warmth of your cunt. He pushes his head through your messy folds, collecting your arousal as if it were lube. 
Easing his head into your pussy, he stills, letting you adjust to the unfamiliar sensation - the stretch of your walls opening to accustom him. Keeping his eyes on yours, he looks out for discomfort, only to find none - your features clouded with lust and bliss and obedience. 
With your silent encouragement, he slips in a little more of himself - the girth of his upper shaft creating a mellow, tame burn in your cunt.
"Such a pro," he praises, moving the hand from his cock to place on the side of your face - his palm warm as it rests against your cheek, holding you. "S'good," he mutters, tone strained as he kisses under your jaw.
Your dulcet, sultry noises ring like music to Bucky's ears - the sounds like everything he's imagined them to be, if not better. The soft, breathy, whiney moans combined with the wet clicking of your cunt, egg him on more than he thought to be possible. More than he was used to.
He momentarily parts focus from your face, instead glancing down your stomach to look between your thighs, watching himself sink into you - the swallowing of your pussy pulling him back in for more. The creamy ring forming around the base of his cock. His new favourite sight.
Your eyes so full of lust and trust - everything about you in this position igniting something deeply possessive within him. 
And though you were still new to sex, he wanted to ruin you - obliterate your standards so that you keep coming back for more. He knew in his mind that was wrong, but when he watches your face knit with waves of bliss, he can't help but think he's not alone in that feeling.
He knew this wasn't going to be a one-time thing. And in your heart, you knew that, too.
Tumblr media
lwk hate this, but in my drafts so worth posting
2K notes · View notes
stealingyourbones · 2 months
Note
Danny is cold.
The numbness at his fingertips, nipping and just off from painful, had spread down to his forearms. Frostbite is inevitable—a sickly purplish blue that reached across each knuckle like night fading into day, unfeeling as they brush against blades of wet grass. Each digit trembles and shakes as if feeling tremors of an earthquake days in advance.
Each puff of air crystallizes the moment they leave his mouth before quickly melting away again, little clouds that, back when Danny could be a kid again, smiling ever-so brightly, he would have been amused by. Giddy even.
But now? Now it just solidifies the fact that he’s sick. Deathly ill from something outside any of their control.
Nothing is working thus far. The ghosts have noticed long since it first began, and are working alongside humans to bring back their resident nuisance in sake of continuing this little back-and-forth they’ve perfected throughout the years. Mom and Dad are suspicious, of course, but are willing to try anything.
Today, Danny sits in bed, shivering from head to toe underneath at least three layers of blanket.
Frostbite (the yeti) knocked before entering, holding a small bowl in hand. He appears older than he has ever looked, from stress no doubt, yet there is hope within those eyes.
“Little lord,” he began, and if Danny could groan he would. Every since the defeat of the late ghost king, he’s been called that by every yeti that’s crossed paths with him. “We have a new medicine for you to try. Can you sit up?”
Danny whimpered a little at the mere prospect of moving but goes to anyway. He slowly arose from his laid down position, rocking a little.
Frostbite brought the bowl to his lips and ever-so delicately tipped it, having what his prying gaze caught as bright green dust slide down his throat. And only pulled away when half of it was eaten.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel…” Danny had to take a moment to process the slowly regaining feeling of his arms. “Warm.”
Amazed, he turned toward the yeti. “What was that?”
Frostbite—who was beaming with relief—chuckled, far too emotion for any cryptic messaging within his next words. “Kryptonite. We’ve just now found it on Earth, from some place called Metropolis. It’s incredibly rare in the Ghost Zone, so finding it here is nothing short from a miracle.”
The Justice League doesn't know why there's a sudden influx of extra dimensional entities attacking various Superman villains and stealing their stashes of kryptonite, but there's no way this situation is going to end pleasantly. Frostbite instructed all of Phantom's rogues gallery to track down and collect kryptonite.
1K notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 3 months
Text
tw - afab!reader, non/con, implied drug use, breeding kinks, obsessive/delusional behavior, gojo talks about his ex during sex and you can't change my mind. happy valentine's day <3
“This is my first Valentine’s with somebody to celebrate with, y’know.”
Satoru’s slow, melodic voice was just barely outpaced by his idle movements – his hips rolling lazily against yours, each thrust more languid and lethargic than the last. His blunt nails dug into your skin where his hands had your wrists pinned over your head, and somehow, he’d managed to turn the feeling of satin sheets against your back into something rough and cutting. The taste of chocolate and bitter wine clung to the inside of your mouth, but you shouldn’t have been drunk enough for your thoughts to be this clouded, this muddled. A few hours ago, you’d been sure that amount of wine could ever get you into bed with Gojo Satoru, and yet, here you were, suffering silently underneath him as fuck you like he had all the time in the world.
“I mean, there was Suguru, but he wasn’t really the romantic type. I’d be lucky to get a box of chocolates, n’ I was still the one handing out most of the affection. To little thanks, of course.” Were you in his bedroom? You had to be. This was definitely his bed, and with your head lulled to the side, you could see scattered tea candles littered over dressers and bedside tables, forgotten clothes left in crumpled piles on the carpeted floor. You might’ve been wrong, though. When he wasn’t on campus, Satoru lived in a luxury apartment – the best money could buy. Luxury apartments didn’t have bars over the windows and locks on every door. “Not that I mind spoilin’ you,” he backtracked, his voice taking on the faintest notes of a teasing inflection. “It’s just—It’s nice to feel appreciated, sometimes. Suguru was always the selfish type. I’m sure you’ll be a lot sweeter with me, though.”
One of his hands fell away from your wrists, soon reappearing at your chin. Taking you by the jaw, he eased your head back, forcing you to face him properly. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, let alone a proper blindfold, and even in the dim light, his star-bright eyes were almost unbearable to meet. You tried to jerk out of his hold, to straighten your back, but your body refused to respond, your limbs little more than dead weight and numbing static. The only part of yourself that you could feel was your pussy – soaked and hot and vice-like around his cock. You wanted it to stop, to go dry, to make this as unpleasant for him as it was for you, but his public bone scraped against your clit and instead, you clenched around him. A low groan bubbled past Satoru’s lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he bowed his head and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “Already bein’ sweet with me,” he babbled, now partially muffled by proximity. “Just wanna be my little sweetheart, huh? Wanna be good to me?”
His pace picked up, his hips starting to move against yours in earnest. The force seemed to knock some intangible block out of your throat, and suddenly, little whines and whimpers were flooding out of you, cracked moans trickling past your lips in little, stunted hiccups. You tried to spit something coherent out, to tell him to slow down, to get off of you, to stop, but your tongue was too heavy and your lips wouldn’t cooperate and all you managed was a string of pained gibberish, dented and beaten by pitiful, dazed sounds. Satoru only cooed in response, nipping at your collarbone, the curve of your neck. “So, so good for me.” He drew back, leaving just enough distance between you to slot his lips against yours. His tongue raked over yours, and by the time he pulled back, he was breathless and you were dazed beyond any hope of full consciousness. If he was bothered by your glassy eyes, though, your slack features, you couldn’t tell. He was smiling when he pulled away, his expression nearly as gaze as your own. “Hey, baby…”
If you were able to, you would’ve screamed.
“If I knock you up, think we can do this again next year?”
2K notes · View notes
ethereal-night-fairy · 2 months
Note
Hi this is my first time doing this, I love your Christmas series, I thought of this idea yesterday- pre poly Task force 141 × reader where Ghost, Price and Gaz come to base late at night from a mission while reader and Soap are asleep, they come to base and see reader walking to Soaps room groggy with a pillow, and when asked, they say that Soap snores too loud so they will hit him with the pillow to shut him up.( maybe add a little reaction to them seeing reader wearing shorts and a tank top)
Thank you for sending in this ask. It's such a cute idea!! I hope you like what I wrote.
(Oh btw my blog can be quite dark with my other series, it would be much appreciated if you had 18+ or age in your bio so I know not to block you accidentally)
Sleepy
Pre poly 141 x GN Reader
Warnings: fluff, slight ideation to murder soap in his sleep because he snores like a horse, jealous Gaz, 141 ogling reader in sleep wear nothing too explicit though, sorry if I missed any. This is mostly just fluff though.
Comments and reblogs are appreciated 💋
Holiday drabble
Masterlist
Words: 1.5k
The rumble of the engine finally came to a stop. Price, Ghost and Gaz just arrived back on base after an excruciating intel mission. At least it was successful and with minimal injuries. They just needed to shower and decompress for a while in order to recover. Obviously no one was looking forward to the debrief the next morning, it meant they couldn't sleep in. They all file out of the humvee groaning out their grievances to the chilly night air, their breaths condensing into clouds due to the cold.
Price's muscles were killing him after that nasty fall from the second story. But he had wiped their servers of all the information they needed. Which he was happy about. He stretches and groans, hearing his joints pop from sitting in one position too long. He rolls his arms trying to get the knot out of his shoulders, while the other two do the same. They walk the hallways in silence hoping to get to their respective beds as soon as possible. It looked like no one was in the mood to share a bed tonight for obvious reasons.
“It's so unfair that Soap got to spend the last three days with them while we were busting our asses off”, Gaz groaned. He was the most annoyed by the mission arrangement. Especially since he was only just getting closer to you after your near-death experience. He was becoming more and more infatuated with you by the day. So much so that petty arguments were breaking out when one of the other boys spent too much time near you for Gaz's liking. He didn't complain as long as he was paired with you for almost everything.
“You know it's not like that, they were also working whilst we were away. He's probably driving them mad anyway. You know they have a special place for you in their heart”, Price countered. Soap and you were left on base since you two were gathering intel for an upcoming mission. It required a lot of attention so it was decided that you and Soap would stay behind to work on it.
“Obviously I'm their favourite…why wouldn't I be?…I treat them the best..”, Gaz continues to grumble quietly to himself. The other two men can't help but chuckle to themselves. He needed to learn how to share better. Eventually they turn the corner to their private barracks only to find you standing in front of Soaps door in the darkly lit hallway. It was jarring at first since they weren't expecting anyone awake at this time. You almost gave them a heart attack just standing there menacingly. You resemble the ghost with the way your hair was messed up and your clothes were rumpled. Were you sleep walking?
You hadn't noticed them yet, too occupied with staring daggers into Soap’s door while clutching a pillow to your chest. You looked groggy and had your lips situated in an angry pout. Everyone stood not knowing what to do. Price read somewhere you weren't supposed to wake someone who sleepwalks, that it was better to gently get them back into bed. But you looked like you wanted to murder someone. Just as Price is about to move to gently get to you a horrible sound rings out throughout the hallway. A sound akin to jammed chainsaw. A sound that was unmistakably Soaps loud snoring.
“I'm going murder him!”, you shout out, stomping your feet. The men flinch slightly at your outburst but it was a funny sight. Definitely welcomed after their exhausting mission, they try hard to keep their laughter contained.
“Who are ya plannin on murderin?”, you yelp and turn towards Ghosts deep manchester accent hastily hiding your would be murder weapon behind your back. In doing so your chest gets pushed out slightly highlighting your tight tank top with your equally tight short shorts. The fabric clinged to your figure giving the men quite a nice eyeful as you fumble with your words.
“Y-your back, so soon? W-we were expecting you tomorrow morning. Me? I-I wasn't doing anything. I was just going to have a friendly?..yeah friendly chat with Soap. I-I wasn't going to suffocate him promise!…though I could..I definitely could…b-but I wasn't going to do it..promise..m-maybe just smack him a little that's all. I haven't been able to sleep since you guys left…”, they watch you with amusement as you stutter, getting all your excuses out while the men try to hold their laughter in. Obviously they knew you wouldn't harm him seriously, you probably just wanted to hit him with the pillow to get him to shut up so you could sleep. Such an adorable thing you were with your pillow now clutched to your chest as you mumbles your frustration into it. It was a shame the pillow hid all the things they wanted to see but that was ok, they knew this wasn't going to be the only time they saw you in your sleepwear. Especially since they were growing closer to you. But that didn't change the fact everyone needed sleep right now including you. You looked ready to topple over.
Gaz is the first to move as he laughs openly at your antics. He envelops you in a bear hug while trying to get you out of your sour mood. “Come sleep in my bed. I'll put some white noise on so you can't hear him, I'll even make you some tea so you can settle down”, you whine in his hold telling him you've already tried that. Ghost walks by petting your head suggesting wearing ear plugs but you just shake your head into the pillow as you hear him enter his room bidding everyone goodnight. Another earth shaking snore rings out from Soaps room making you groan out in frustration. None of the other men minded Soaps snoring since they were so used to it. They also had their own methods of dealing with the noise. Ghost wore ear plugs but didn't mind the noise most days. Gaz used white noise and the captain was fortunate enough to have his room further away beside his office for easy access.
“Come sleep in my bed tonight sweetheart, you won't be able to hear him there”, Gaz lets you go to pout angrily at his Captain and lover. Price just smirks at him, it was fair game when it came to you. No rules or boundaries were established yet. He'll have to make it up to him later.
“Really? Is that ok captain…?”, you look at him hopefully with your droopy eyes.
“Of course..I need my soldiers in tip top shape. Run along now make yourself comfortable while I chat with Gaz”, you do exactly that after saying goodnight, probably extremely relieved you wouldn't lose another day of sleep. Gaz continues pouting as Price kisses him goodnight.
“Better luck next time love”, Price chuckles to himself as he hears Gaz groan and mutter to himself as he enters his room.
Walking in Price finds you fast asleep, curled up comfortably in the far end of the bed. You must have been really tired. He smiles to himself as he strips quietly to go shower off all the dirt and grime from the mission. Once he's finally scrubbed clean and smelling like his favourite body wash he gently climbs into bed making sure not to wake you. The soft bed is forgiving towards his sore muscles and even better yet that it has a soft body to keep him warm throughout the night. For a second he watches your gentle breathing before getting comfortable and pulling the duvet over you both.
Price is a gentleman..most days.. so he stays by his side but it seems your sleep deprived mind has other ideas because you curl against him the second he's beside you. You were basically treating him like a warm teddy bear, not the Price minded. He just needed to not focus on what you were wearing or else he wasn't getting any sleep tonight. You're probably too deep in sleep to realise what you were doing anyway. Such a feisty kitten you were when you were all tired and grumpy. He watches you move and get comfortable by placing your cheek on his chest as he settles into bed properly and wrapping his arms around you.
You'd do nicely as another addition to their relationship. He knew the boys were growing to love you more and more as the days went by. To the point that jealousy was being felt if anyone apart from them tried gaining your attention. The only question was how to approach the topic? You weren't the brightest when it came to things of this nature and they didn't want to scare or pressure you into anything. But that was a problem for another day. For tonight he was going to enjoy your warmth to the fullest.
“Our grumpy little sunshine, we'll make you ours just wait a little longer”, with that whispered into the darkness Price places a gentle kiss on your forehead before falling asleep as well.
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.
990 notes · View notes