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thexsilentxwordsmith · 11 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Housewife!reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Such a good little wife you are to your military husband, ready to welcome him back home after he returns from deployment. This time you've even prepared a meal of all his favorites, but when Simon gets back early than expected and catches you flitting about the kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt, it isn't food that he wants.

Word Count: 6.4 k

Warnings:

Simon has gotten in earlier than either of you expected, but instead of letting you know he doesn’t call, doesn’t text. There are other thoughts on his mind that cloud his judgment and the last thing he thinks about is wasting time focusing on messing with his phone when showing up back home is infinitely better. He’s excited to be back, chomping at the bit to get back his girl as he’s been missing you something terrible. Now that he’s back on home turf, that longing to see you again is only getting worse by the second.

You had told him your plan for today: you wanted to make his homecoming right by cooking him a nice meal for the two of you as a celebration since he’s been gone for quite a while this round. The gesture is sweet and Simon is getting hungry… the only problem is that it isn’t for food.

He reiterates to himself on the drive back about the promise that he made to you that he would be on his best behavior today. All this trouble you are going to, he wants to be sure to show his appreciation by enjoying the hard work you’ve put in to prepare a dinner of all his favorite things and he plans to keep it by not letting his yearnings get out of hand…at least that is what he hopes.

By the time he pulls up to the house he is over two hours early from when he was meant to land and his pulse is racing as he parks on the driveway. Just a short distance more and he’s back in the company he’s been craving like crazy.

His key clicks in the lock and as he opens the door to his house he is hit by the sights and sounds of familiarity that instantly put him at ease. There are reminders of you everywhere, little touches that make this a place of comfort he looks forward to coming back to after being away. It is the sound of music echoing from the kitchen that urges him to continue forward after he shuts the door quietly, hoping to catch you by surprise. He sets his gear down by the door and creeps silently through the house, the metallic clangs of pots and utensils underneath the music now becoming more prominent as he reaches the source.

And there you are.

The pupils of those caramel brown eyes dilate as you come into view; it has been too long since the object of his desire was standing right in front of him and fuck, do you look good. He watches you transfixed on the grace of your movements, unwavering gaze following the motions of your body as you go about the kitchen popping from the stove to the countertop singing along with the song playing over the bluetooth speakers.

This is it, this is his little piece of heaven on earth, his oasis safe from the chaos that is his daily life, his sunshine that pierces through the darkness that clouds his thoughts, and she’s wearing his t-shirt. And only his t-shirt with your panties.

How the hell can you make something so simple look like perfection? He could very well be biased because he only has ever had eyes for you, but fuck your beauty could pull off anything.

This right here is what keeps him going, knowing that this is what he will come home to.

He pulls his phone from out of his pocket and promptly snaps a picture, wanting to capture this innocent moment of carefree beauty that you exude now that you are alone in your own little world: humming happily to yourself, flitting about the kitchen, his baggy shirt randomly clinging to different curves as you move, your hair tied back into a low ponytail.

In that moment, looking like you do, he wants you so bad it hurts. Your figure is only a few feet away from his grasp and yet his body is aching in pain still being this far. He has to be wrapped around you and it has to be right now. Moving with haste he pulls off his mask and gloves and discards them on the ground, removing any sign of Ghost so that he cannot taint his sweet thing with the unsavory dealings of his alter ego. He can’t wait, those lips and hands have to be on you the second they can.

Just as you go to stir the pot of vegetables bubbling away on the stove, the music cuts out abruptly and a familiar pair of arms snake their way around your waist from behind, lacing themselves across the middle of your stomach. You jump, not expecting anyone to be against you, but as soon as your eyes catch that forearm full of familiar tattoos you settle. He’s home, that’s all that matters and those nerves that have been brewing inside your chest all day turn into delicious flutters as those large hands begin to roam across your body.

The old familiar curves call to him, beckoning him to travel their paths once again. Who is he to deny them? He does not even wait as his hands paw over your stomach and hips, those large, exploratory hands taking the curves of your body into their embrace over the t-shirt until his grip is so full he can’t contain any more.

“You’re early,” you say through a smile as you settle back into him, head resting against his shoulder.

The warmth from his breath is at the edge of your ear as he moves his face in closer while his hands wander with purpose. His lips are ghosting themselves near the delicate skin of your earlobe teasingly until he has you squirming in his arms. "Woulda called, just wanted to get home as fast as I fuckin’ could," he groans as he tightens his grip around you to cause your back to form into the contours of his taut chest. “Had a craving for somethin’ sweet.”

Pulling up the t-shirt just enough he moves under it with those large hands, splaying them across your soft flesh around your waist, your hips, your stomach as he takes your earlobe in his teeth to nibble at it playfully until it sends shivers down your spine.

“I missed ya, baby,” he says desperately against the side of your head.

"I missed you too," you return.

The longer he plays up under the shirt, the more your sanity wanes. His touch is ecstasy and after not having it for so long, it is hard to not immediately succumb to its bliss. He’s barely even begun and you are already falling apart; if this keeps up you’ll never finish what you have started on the stove.

"I wish you would have called,” you say, trying to break the spell, “cause I wanted everything to be done before you got home. I’m not ready, I’m not even dressed. I wanted this to be perfect."

His lips move from your earlobe and start just below your jaw, making the connection against your skin over and again along the line of your jugular as he descends down your neck with kisses. He pauses against the vein there as his lips pick up the thudding as it pulses under his touch. The more his mouth lingers, the quicker it gets.

With a smile he nuzzles his nose into your skin as his nostrils fill with your scent; the fragrance fills his head and it feels like he is being consumed. “Don’t need to get dressed,” his words breeze over your neck and down your chest, “ya look perfect just like this. How could I ask for anythin’ more?”

Simon takes the spoon out of your hand and rests it on the counter so that he can turn you around to face him; that stoic military officer is yearning to look into the face of the beauty he hasn't seen in far too fucking long. Meeting your gaze for the first time in months is akin to a contact high and immediately he is out of his goddamn mind as your eyes lock to his.

You are struggling just as badly. It is always a struggle not to miss him like crazy when he’s gone and now that he is back there is so much time to make up for. And the way he looks as he stands here in front of you, hands around your hips, isn’t helping. The universe knew what they were doing when they put Simon together and even though the black around his eyes is already smugged and his crinkled blonde hair is pressed down from being under his balaclava, the sight of him still makes your stomach flip. You are transfixed and it’s getting harder to breathe.

Brown eyes trail down your features to take you all in, drinking up every gorgeous facet of your face as his hands move to cup around the sides of your head like the frame around a work of art. Those eyes that light up whenever they look at him, that sweet mouth always ready with a smile, those soft cheeks glowing whenever he touches you, all of it a unique perfection that he cannot get enough of. Finally his sight lands on your mouth and as if drawn by an overwhelming urge he is compelled to move in.

He has to kiss you; it is suddenly unbearable that he still hasn’t tasted you yet.

Leaning into your face he gives your lips a peck to test that they still feel the same as he remembers. Pulling back, he catches the sparkle in your eyes that tells him to do that again and he is ready to oblige. Then he steals another and another at an increasing pace until his mouth smashes against yours and latches on, drawing you in as he deepens the connection.

His tongue meets yours and shoves its way past the barrier of your lips and into the confines of your mouth as he tastes you. Everything comes flooding back all at once and he is overtaken by all that familiarity. The longer the connection lasts the more he loses himself until he is panting into you, sharing one sticky, hot bit of air as his features shape themselves around your own to make your faces become one.

The thick stubble outlining his jaw abrades the skin of your cheeks and around your lips, making your face sting, but you don't want him to pull away. Not yet, not when his lips are making your mind hazy and your limbs tremble as all that tension that has been building for days as you wait for his return bubbles over the surface.

His desperation is showing as his dick digs itself into your upper thigh, pulsing and throbbing the harder it gets until you cannot ignore it. Each heavy breath pushes his bulky chest against yours until you can feel his rapid pulse rushing angrily through his veins as his heartbeat pounds.

"You’re gonna be the death ‘a me," he says quietly under his breath as he cannot think of anything else to say in that moment; his mind is too absorbed in the way your kiss is like heaven and he is succumbing to the feeling of it. “I know I said I’d wait til later, but I don’t think I can, sweetheart. It’s been hell without ya.”

At this rate Simon isn’t going to make it to dinner and you’re so close to being done, but maybe there is something you can do to sate him long enough that you can get through this. With a bit of struggle you break the kiss and pull away as he desperately tries to wrangle you back in so that you have to place your hand on his chest to get him to pause.

Giving Simon’s lower lip one last quick nip you slowly lower yourself to your knees before him, your fingers lacing into the leather of his belt as you fiddle with the buckle. “Then how about I give you a little something to keep you satisfied til dinner’s over?” you suggest as you look up at him with those pretty doe-eyes. “Something to make you feel better?”

His chest heaves up and down with each laborious breath he takes as you jump into unhooking the metal of his buckle and pulling the leather through until the belt hangs loosely around his hips. Your fingers slide down the zipper, but before you can do more his hands press yours into place along the lower portion of his pelvis so that you can’t keep undressing him.

“Ya don’t have to do this,” he mildly protests. Simon knows if you don’t stop he isn’t going to be able to either and this dinner is going to take a detour, though he can’t lie that he wants you to keep going.

Giving you a look, he waits to see if you stand back up, but you only smile as you pull your hands back out from underneath his. “I want to do this for you, baby,” you reassure, lifting the bottom of his shirt and leaning in to kiss along the light colored patch of hair that trails down into his boxers as you finish undoing his pants.

How in the hell is someone supposed to resist this? Simon is strong, he would not have gotten far in life if he wasn’t, but not this strong. You reach the waistband of his underwear with your lips and meet the seam with your fingers to pull them down under his ass low enough that you can release his thick, fat cock.

He is hard already, the tip swollen and angry, and the veins running through it visibly throbbing. The inside of your mouth salivates as it remembers the feeling of being stuffed with that girthy appendage. You keep the spit gathered on your tongue as you lean in and open your lips.

Taking the tip of your tongue you trace the head of his cock as your hand at the base keeps his foreskin pulled back. A breathy moan rumbles out from somewhere deep inside his chest, low and guttural as his hips buck and his ass hits into the ledge of the kitchen counter, making his belt jingle from the movement.

“Fuck,” he chokes out as his head falls back and his eyelids momentarily close. “Forgot how that pretty mouth feels ‘round me.”

He can feel a tightening around him as your lips contort into a smile, excited that you can still make that big ol boy come undone with something as simple as your mouth. Clearly he has been just as worked up as you have been for him to get home. As Simon settles back against the countertop with his palm on your cheek, his thumb lovingly strokes the corner of your full mouth as you continue on.

Your lips around him, wet and messy, suck him in until his cock reaches the threshold of your throat. Those pretty eyes of yours lift back up to look into his face, keeping contact as you choke around him, vision swimming with tears while your head bobs up and down in a steady rhythm. Your lips are bright red and swollen from his kiss, your cheeks blossoming with heated color, that lust-drunk look plastered on your face; it all makes up the gorgeous picture. The visual makes his blood pressure rise until his limbs are vibrating with the racing beats of his heart.

The slurping sounds of your saliva-filled mouth being fucked is punctuated by sparse gags; it hasn’t been this full for a while and it’s going to take some getting used to. Still, you don’t slow your pace, even as his hips begin thrusting against your face the longer you go. It’s like you’d rather suck him off than breathe and goddamn is that a turn-on.

Simon releases your cheek so that he can rest his hands on the counter behind him. He hasn’t had you like this in so long that it doesn’t take much to overwhelm him now. That pressure deep inside is building to its peak, drawing his body to the edge of its release with each pass of your mouth over him from as far down the base as you can reach back to the tip. His hands grip hard into the surface behind him until his knuckles turn white.

Shit, he is going to come just like he knows you want, but it is at that moment that he realizes that he doesn’t want to just take this quick blow job and be done with you until later. Simon needs you, all of you, under his touch and at his disposal right this fucking second. Suddenly he is pulling out of your mouth and situating his cock back into the confines of his pants as you stare up at him with your head tilted in confusion.

“What’s…” you start to ask, but before the words can even leave your lips you are being pulled to your feet. He doesn’t say a word as he wipes away a bit of spittle that has dripped from the corner of your mouth, using his thumb to remove it before he kisses you full force again.

It's too much, too strong an all consuming feeling to stop and so without warning he pulls from you and throws you over his broad shoulder to carry you out of the room in a rush. He is frantic; he needs to have you now and can’t wait to drag you all the way to the bedroom. No, it’s too far.

Scanning around him as his aroused brain tries to find the fastest solution, he spots it. The dining table that you’ve set special for tonight is just a few feet away and he instantly brings you over to it. Dishes clank and clatter, ceramic and glass hitting itself as he hurriedly shoves everything out of his way to make room for your body before setting you on the surface.

"I know you’re not done cookin’, but I’m hungry for somethin' else," he breathes as he sets you down and lays you back. “I need ya now…waited too long for this.”

The movement has caused your shirt to get pulled up off your stomach and the uncovered area catches his eye; more skin that he desperately needs to claim and now. He brushes his fingertips down across your waist and over your navel, past to your lower abdomen until he lightly grazes the seam of your panties. He can feel the goosebumps forming under his touch and he can hear the hitch in your breathing the lower he gets.

Reaching your sex he cups his wide palm over the mound and applies pressure. It is warm to the touch and he can feel it radiate into his hand. You buck against him, squirming at the unexpected sensitivity with a gasp. All that softness of your body, so delicate to the touch like silk against his skin, it’s too much for him to handle. Simon has had months and months of only rough, coarse, and rugged things from the brutal environment he was forced to endure, but the moment his fingers grace across all that balmy flesh his brain short-circuits.

It’s not just your looks that drive him wild, though. You are the one bit of happiness he keeps separate from the brutality of his work, the sanctuary that he looks forward to coming home to, the calm in his stormy existence. That's why he suggested he take care of the money so you could stay at home, not bother yourself with working, so that the harsh world wouldn't taint your sweet demeanor with its cruelty. And in return you take care of his life, never asking for anything as you make sure everything here runs smoothly.

"You're always takin’ care a me, makin' sure that everything is perfect when I get back home," he says as he gets more worked up. "Now it's my turn to return the favor. Goddammit, I just wanna screw the hell outta my pretty girl until she can’t move."

Firm hands cup against your hips as his fingertips slip between your panties and your warm skin, tangling them in the fabric so that he can pull them down your thighs and off your legs. Your bare petals faintly glisten as he gets a peak at them through the tight space between your legs, a product of his minimal touch already working on your body; nice to know he still has that effect on you no matter how much time you’ve spent apart. He slides his hands between your thighs, parting them easily as a knife in warm butter, until his hand is deep enough that he can stop and separate them so that the gap is wide and his body can easily fit in between.

"All this for me?” he asks as he stares like an animal starved at your pussy, mouth salivating to play. "Bet you’ve been achin’ somethin’ terrible since I left. Do ya need me ta fix that?”

“Yes,” you breathe.Your body is radiating with the intensity of every sensation that courses through your limbs like an electrical current everywhere Simon touches you.

“That’s a good girl,” he says as he glides his hand up so his fingers can part through the lips of your pussy.

Two of those thick fingers slide between the petals of your sex towards your entrance, gathering as much of your slick as he can on his digits. Carefully he teases them around the rim of your core, circling it through the dampness gathering in your slit. “One or two?” he asks as your back arches off the table, the stimulation driving you to the brink of insanity; it’s been too long since you’ve felt his fingers there.

You swallow hard. “T-two,” you beg. At this point, any amount will work as long as they are his and as long as they get inside you.

“Oh sweetheart, that’s what I like ta hear,” he praises as he aligns his fingers with your opening and slowly fits those two long fingers inside and up into you. “Fuck, there ya go. Just breathe for me, that’s it. Let your body do all the work and take ‘em in.”

They slip up further into your cunt and with a slow pace he begins to pump in and out of you while the overwhelming pressure causes you to arch your back up off the table. Instinctively, your hips buck against his hand, trying to make as much contact with him as possible.

Those long, coarse fingers curl inside you continuously as his heavy palm rests over top of your sex to put pressure so that he can make more contact and cause more friction with your G spot as his thumb nestles against your clit. Your body writhes against the table, your head falling back with eyes closed as the twinges of pleasure spring up your spine and Simon is grinning from ear to ear to see he still knows how to work his sweetheart just the way she likes.

As he watches you fall apart to the stroking of his fingers, from the corner of sight he catches it: that bounce at the top of your torso under the shirt. It’s as if he suddenly remembers about those beautiful breasts as they rebound with his strokes and out of a drunken haze he is consumed by the need to see them.

Pushing the bottom of your shirt up over your chest, it’s revealed that you don’t have on a bra and his breath hitches to see those perky tits he’s been dreaming of burying his face in staring right back at him. Fuck, he can’t stop himself from getting at all that juicy meat and quickly he leans over you with a groan from the table so that he can reach you with his mouth. Lightly he grazes his teeth over the delicate skin of your nipple to make the little bud grow hard under the sharp contact.

"Oh God, Simon," his name falls from your lips in a breathy prayer.

The sweet sound of his name being spoken in such a desperate way only spurns him on; he needs to hear it as many times as he can make you repeat it, especially after not being able to hear it at all while he was gone. "Say it again," he demands, never lifting his face from your breasts, just switching sides periodically to get them both engaged.

His tongue flicks at the hardened nipple and it makes you whimper as the stimulation runs down your body like liquid fire until you can feel its effects radiating in your clit each time his thumb strokes over it. You know that he wants you to say his name again, but you don’t know if you can. It’s too much stimulation that you are losing your ability to speak.

"Simon," you say as your voice shakes.

His hum of satisfaction vibrates through the tissue of your breast. "Again," he repeats firmly before drawing it fully into his mouth. Latching on he takes as much of your breast as he can fit and sucks down hard.

“S-simon,” your desperate voice clumsily moans.

Tiny beads of sweat form along the line of your body as it burns with the intensity of the ecstasy you feel under his expert care. He’s in your head, in the very marrow of your bones; there isn’t a part of you that isn’t consumed by him. Those rough fingers grinding away into your pussy and his mouth on your body all pail in comparison to the way his kiss had felt on your lips. That desperate, consuming, overwhelming kiss is your drug and you need another hit.

Your fingers lace into his short hair and you tug hard to pull him from your chest, only then does he unlatch himself from your breast as you guide him back up to your mouth. Simon’s lips are nearly raw and yet he takes yours as roughly as he had in the kitchen, never slowing the pace of his finger fucking.

It’s like liquid fire, your kiss, and he sucks down with a hunger that cannot be quenched. The sound of your sloppy lips match the wet slaps currently being produced between your legs. Simon is drunk as his mouth takes and takes and takes, and yet…

His mouth craves more, another set of lips.

The pad of his tongue makes contact with your clit and you jolt, making the table creak as the over-stimulation sends shock waves through your needy body. You can feel the sigh he releases against you as he begins to suck on the nodule of pleasure while flicking it with his tongue; it’s hard to think amongst the staggering overstimulation is leaving you begging and pleading for mercy.

Simon pulls from you amidst your whined protests to drop to his knees before you, giving those thick thighs his attention. His face comes level with your pussy that is absolutely soaked from the work of his fingers and raising your legs to rest your ankles on his shoulders, he dives in. Instantly his face is buried in your heat and as he brushes his tongue through your slit his mouth is filled with your nectar, that tangy burst of flavor that he can not get enough of. It is slathering all over the lower half of his face, coating him from his nose to his chin in the scent of your arousal.

Your thighs squeeze around his head and then release. “I can’t…I-I can’t…” you murmur as you try to move from him.

His mouth releases from you. “Yes, yes ya can, baby. Now, come on my face,” he says fiercely as he grips into the muscle of your hips with all his strength, secures you to his sharp features, and dives right back in like a man starved.

“F-f-fuck,” you groan as your hands seize the tablecloth in your fists, that coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach tighter with each flick of his tongue.

Feverish movements against that erogenous button are no longer controlled as he devours all he can, forcing your body towards that ledge to throw you off into ecstasy. He craves it, burns for it, and would die for it: the way you feel, the way you taste, the way your hips writhe against his advances, it all makes him rabid.

As your breath grows shorter and shorter, he knows it's not far; just a bit more suffocation on his part and you will be done in. He moves his face down to tease your hole with his tongue as his nose takes over on your clit. You are so hot it feels like someone has set you on fire as the knot in your stomach gathers to its breaking point. It’s there, right there within reach; just a little more and you are going to come hard and he’ll get his wish.

Those desperate whimpers quiet all of a sudden and he knows it’s happening; with a few more flicks of his tongue you plunge off the edge with a cry as your thighs clamp down tight around his ears so that he is blocked against you, but that is exactly what he wants. Those seconds after your orgasm shakes through you are his favorite: you writhing uncontrollably over him as he continues to stroke his tongue through you until that high has finally worn off.

Nothing has ever felt better and after not having this for months, it is pure heaven.

It isn’t until you settle down and your legs open back up that he emerges with his face covered in the sticky juices of your cum and his saliva. He is grinning like he has just been given a present, even as he wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand before wiping the slick on his t-shirt.

“Fuckin’ fantastic as always, baby,” he breathes. “But I ain’t done with ya yet. I think we can get at least one more orgasm from ya right now. Come ‘ere.”

He helps your weak body to sit up on the edge of the table to embrace your lips, hoping to reinvigorate you to keep going with the intensity of his desire. You can taste yourself in his kiss, a mixture of sweet and salty that combines with his natural tang to become the flavor of your union. The kiss only lasts a few more seconds, but after just being made to come the exhaustion makes it feel like a lifetime… not that you are complaining.

Pulling from you, he tugs at the crotch of his pants; he can’t wait anymore. “I need ya ta get up and turn ‘round, sweet thing,” he says, guiding you up and rotating you around before pushing you back down onto the table, this time on your stomach. “Gotta get inside. Need ta fill ya.”

The sound of metal jingles as he lowers his pants as his knee pushes against your inner thigh to spread you wider. He releases his cock again and squats down lower so that he can align the tip with your entrance. You can feel it press through the swollen lips of your pussy and you ready yourself for that moment when you’ll be split open.

He can already feel your dampness on his cock as he guides it through and without hesitation he grabs your hips and thrusts inside all the way down to the very base of his cock. Simon instantly bottoms out and needs a second to collect himself; it’s been too fucking long since he’s been inside you and if he isn’t careful he is going to come to quick for him.

Those rough fingers dig in deeper to your hips as he tries to hold on for dear life. “Goddammit, baby,” he groans. “I’ve missed this.”

His girth stretches your core wide to its limit so that the walls of your cunt can’t help but feel every single detail of his cock: every enlarged vein, the exact curve of it, each and every crease.

It’s like he’s imprinting it with his signature, letting your pussy know that the one it belongs to is home once again.

Hips begin to rock slowly at first and are immediately punctuated by deep-throated groans as he cannot keep himself calm for long no matter how hard he tries. Your body is too much like paradise, so devastatingly amazing that even though he is desperately clawing at his sanity it is slipping through his fingers faster and faster with each thrust like sand in a sieve. Pulling almost completely out of you he slams back into your core down to the base, repeating this over and over with a ferocity that only gets worse.

Your body rocks, breasts bouncing and bunching the tablecloth as you are pressed into the surface; you can only moan as the uncomfortable fullness becomes euphorically intoxicating. The table squeaks and strains against each plunge of him deeper into your pussy, threatening to break under the force at any second. Plates and silverware clatter to the floor as they are knocked off and yet you do not care. He will just replace them anyway so there is no sense to take yourself out of the moment to worry about it.

"Ya look so fuckin' pretty with my cock buried in ya," he grunts. "My sweet girl, my good little wife, always keepin' my balls empty. How'd I get so goddamn lucky to marry someone so good, yeah?"

Desperately he grinds harder and harder into you as if he cannot get deep enough, like he cannot fill you full enough. The recoil of your ass as he pounds into you from behind is something he can’t pull his sight from even if he wants to. He is mesmerized, watching himself disappear into the confines of your body only to reemerge more coated in your juices than when he went in.

“I want ta feel ya pulse around me each letter of my name,” he says as his hand runs down the length of your spine. “Come on, baby, let me fuckin’ feel it.”

You follow his command and flex the muscles in your pelvis. Ten letters isn’t that much, not for him; you do it all for him, anything he asks, anything he needs because you know that he is just as whipped for you as you are for him and this is the way to keep him coming back like a good little pup.

He’s panting like a bitch in heat behind you. “That’s it, fuck, just as that.”

So wet, so tight, the pulsing, the throbbing, the speckles of sweat covering your bodies, his hands grabbing at skin, your hips grinding into him… it’s all too much. “Keep going,” you beg with a shudder. “Fuck, Simon right there.”

You can feel him hitting that sensitive spot inside, his cock pounding over it at the perfect angle, and your limbs tingle as the second coming is fast approaching. There is only one man who can make you come multiple times and it is and always has been your husband. And now his complete possession of your body is almost finished.

“Come on, my pretty girl, gimme another,” he urges enthusiastically as he hears your whimpers get louder while your body trembles. “I know ya have another for me and I fuckin’ want it.”

He pounds into you as if his life is dependent on your orgasm and you steady yourself by gripping onto the edge of the tabletop. The pressure builds and builds, a scourge to your sanity until all at once that bolt of hot electricity shoots through your limbs and your head falls forward with a whine as your second orgasm rockets through you so hard that you are left a mewling mess.

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” Simon growls as he finally allows himself to let go and all that build up, all that pining, all that longing for this moment comes to a head and with a few more hard, deep strokes inside your spasming pussy he too comes undone.

A roar rips through his chest as he pulls out and comes across your back, stroking his hand over his cock until he can milk himself dry. You close your eyes, laying your head down as he finishes and grabs a napkin that sits on the table above your head to wipe the cum off. His limbs feel heavy as he sits you back upright to face him.

Simon simply stares into your face for a while, letting you both just work to catch your breaths. There are no words that need be said, not between you both. Once he is more calm, he gently pushes a strand of hair off your glistening face and tucks it behind your ear.

“Ya did so well for me, sweetheart,” he says sweetly, placing a softer kiss on your lips as his heart slows.

“Always for you,” you return with a smile against his lips.

As you both stand there in the midst of the afterglow of your euphoria, a smell begins to waft in from the kitchen. It is unmistakably the scent of something burning. You poke your head around him just to be sure there isn’t a fire on the stove before turning back to his face.

“I hope you like your food burnt cause that’s what we’re gonna be having now,” you laugh as he pulls you back in for one more kiss, letting his forehead rest against yours.

“Guess its a good fuckin’ thing I filled up on the first course then,” he says as you tut in fake exasperation. He lowers his voice. “But ya know… if the food’s ruined, maybe we should just go ta bed.”

Something about the way he says it and the glint in his eye as you pull back, it doesn’t sound like you are going to be sleeping anything off.

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jaewritesfic · 5 months ago

Text

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 8

Part 7

Shockingly, it turns out Danny knows how to cook. He's good at it, even, and when Tucker expresses his disbelief at the practiced way Danny moves in the kitchen Danny snorts.

“You know what the Fenton kitchen was like. When I got out of there and had access to food and kitchens that weren't biohazards, I learned eventually. I have a very distinct appreciation for good food nowadays, and I like being able to make it myself.”

He puts music on through a little Bluetooth speaker on the counter, invites them to participate, and they cook.

It's fun. They dance, they drink, they sample ingredients as they put their pizzas together. There's a minor flour war that sets off rounds of giggling and shrieking - more importantly it makes Danny cackle in a way she used to love and hasn't gotten to hear since they were teens.

It's exactly the same, and she missed it. Pure impish delight and mischief.

For as many things that are the same, there are ones that have changed.

Danny has a grace to him now that he didn't used to, and he moves near silently. He sways easily and elegantly to the music without thinking about it as they talk and make mischief with each other.

The oven and the adjusted thermostat make it much more comfortable in the apartment after a while, but Danny doesn't shed the pullover sweater he wears at any point. He didn't even roll the sleeves up to cook.

Come to think of it, when they entered high school he started doing that too. He wore long sleeves even in the summer - Sam tries not to think about abusive households or self harm. She hopes it's not that, but…

She puts the thoughts aside as well as she can.

Tucker had mentioned it before to her, but with all the grinning and laughing tonight Sam can see that he was right and Danny's teeth are sharper than she remembers. All four canine teeth are almost startlingly pointy.

She doesn't mention it. What she does mention is the apartment.

“This is a really nice place, Danny. You got a secret sugar daddy you haven't told us about?”

Tucker gapes at her and smacks her arm. Danny bluescreens for a moment before he snorts an ugly laugh and descends into near hysterics.

“Oh my God! Ancients, no! No, no sugar daddy. Just a well paying engineering gig lately, and some money I saved up before I left Amity. Holy shit, Sam.”

She shrugs, some tension she didn't know she was carrying leaving her shoulders. “Had to ask. Would have had a shovel talk to deliver.”

Danny starts laughing again, and Tucker groans and puts his head in his hands.

“I cannot believe you actually just asked him that,” Tucker moans.

“I can,” Danny responds with a chipper grin, Tucker's answering snort overlaid by the ding of the oven timer.

Danny knocks back the rest of his drink and waves in the vague direction of the living room area.

“I'll take this out and cut it. Go sit and we can eat it around the coffee table in case we want to watch a movie or something?”

The sitting area is spacious and comfortable, couches black leather. There's a heavy, fluffy white throw over the back of one that looks soft as all get out, but she and Tuck quickly decide to settle on the floor.

The coffee table is low enough that it's more convenient for reaching food and drinks set on it.

Tucker whistles appreciatively at the TV, so it must be a cutting edge new model. Fucking nerd.

Danny trots over not long after with two serving boards balanced precariously on one arm, his refilled sangria in one hand, the pitcher of sangria in the other and another beer held against his side by an awkward elbow.

Tucker and Sam both shoot to their feet to try and mitigate a disaster, but miraculously it all makes it to the table unharmed.

“It's almost like you guys don't trust me,” Danny pouts, his grin ruining it. “Careful, it's hot.”

“You are a perpetual accident waiting to happen,” Sam tells him scathingly, and he snorts with a peculiar look on his face.

“You don't know the half of it.”

As they all reach for slices of pizza, Danny takes them by surprise by taking a piece of Sam's, not Tucker's.

Tucker gapes at him. “Dude. Tell me you haven't betrayed me like that.”

Danny snorts, shoulders shaking with quiet chuckles. “Nah, I still eat meat. It's just sometimes I have spells where it kind of bothers me and I feel a little sick about it? I'm in one of those lately, but usually I'm still a huge burger and steak guy. Don't worry.”

“Huh. That's weird.”

Danny shrugs, taking a bite of his pizza despite his own warnings and cringing when it burns his mouth.

“Been like that since high school, actually. Used to be worse then,” he mumbles through his attempts to cool a mouthful of molten cheese.

Sam doesn't remember him ever having issues with it in middle school. She wonders what happened to change his outlook, but puts it aside. They're here to hang out and catch up. Have a good time. Not interrogate Danny.

They end up spending hours watching trashy TV and heckling the screen, making small talk and letting each other in on bits of their lives all the while. Everyone's well on their way to tipsy by the time they're done eating, though Danny a little more than Sam and Tuck.

He's loose-limbed and happy, sprawled across both of them in the haphazard pile they've ended up in. He seems incredibly content, and it does Sam's heart good to see him so relaxed.

She and Tucker are sitting with their backs against the couch, Danny's legs slung across Tucker's lap and head in Sam's. It's probably why he notices her shiver a little - it's still a little chilly in the apartment.

Lazily, he points up at the back of the couch. “You can pull that down and cover us if you want. It's really warm.”

Sam offers him a quiet thanks and reaches up to do just that, though she's startled to find that though the top is fluffy, the underside of what she'd thought was a throw is velvety and smooth. Like hide.

It's a real fur - hopefully ethically sourced. Decorated too, there are ornaments threaded into the corners and dangling that she can't pin the origin of. They're very pretty, shells and claws and beads.

As she pulls it down, she flips the edge up to peek at the underside and is startled to find the skin a distinct, familiar ectoplasmic green.

“Um. Danny. What kind of fur is this…?”

“Yeti,” Danny replies offhandedly, sipping his drink before freezing like the question and his own answer just caught up to him. “Uh.”

Masterpost

#dp x dc #everlasting trio #sam manson #tucker foley #danny phantom #danny after going through the apartment with a fine tooth comb to hide anything ghostly #*sits on the couch and leans back against a giant fucking yeti fur*#“good job me” :)

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sheerfreesia007 · 4 months ago

Text

Recipe of a Confession

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Word count: 1,055

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You and Lee Know are cooking for the boys tonight to help get everyone together and calmed down after a busy hectic week. What happens when the recipe calls for a confession that you’ve been craving for your best friend?

Aein: Lover

The kitchen is warm due to the heat from the stove where Minho stands stirring the large pot of stew that the two of you had decided to make for dinner with the guys tonight. You’re standing at the kitchen island in front of the cutting board chopping away at the pile of vegetables that you both had picked at the grocery store earlier. Music softly plays over your bluetooth speaker and you can’t help but smile as your hips sway to the beat of the song.

You love cozy comfortable moments like these with Minho, when the two of you are able to just exist together to get a singular task done. It’s like a calming balm over your normally hectic life that keeps you up and running most days. Your time spent with Minho is almost like a reset button for your sanity and you cherish these moments.

Your friendship with Minho was something that you held dear to your heart, it was something that you had nurtured together and had grown over the years into something beautiful. It had started so passionate and fiery and only settled to a low simmer but just as much as intensity as when it first started.

Minho always seemed to understand exactly what you needed without you having to verbalize it and if it was in his power to give it to you he would without hesitation. And while Minho was able to completely understand you without you needing to tell him you were the opposite, you preferred him to talk to you about whatever he needed. You made him break down his walls that he liked to put up and open up to you in a way that was so intimate that furthered the bond that the two of you had.

You had suspected that you were in love with Minho not long after you had started your friendship during his first world tour that had pulled him far away from you and your comfort. Just like the start of your friendship where it was intense and quick, your love for him had formed just as swiftly.

That first tour had been rough on both of you since you had just started your relationship and on the eve of his return back to Seoul when he video called you after their last show to celebrate with you it was then that you realized that no matter how quickly it had happened you had fallen in love with the man. It was like a warm weight blanket that just overpowered you and settled over your whole being. While he was excitedly retelling you of their last powerfully charged concert with glassy eyes you had realized that you would move heaven and earth for this man. That was how you knew you were in it for the long haul with him.

And while you hadn’t verbalized that you were in love with, like with everything else he still seemed to pick up on it. He was sweet with you whenever you both met up and yes, he could be a huge tease but there was a sweet undertone to every interaction he had with you. You had grown comfortable with how your relationship had developed and grown ever since your realization but the only thing that you hadn’t learned was how he actually felt about you, he never broke down that last wall between the two of you. You had a suspicion that he felt the same way with you as you did him, but you craved that validation, that confirmation of his words that he was in love with you. But you could be patient with him just like always, you never rushed him because you knew eventually he’d open up to you completely and wholly.

“Aein, can you bring over some of the potatoes?” Minho asked as he turned his head to the side to speak over his shoulder to you. You smiled softly at the nickname he had been using since that first tour, lover, the name he had chosen to call you made your body heat with delight and your heart would flutter every time you heard him say in that soft tone that he reserved just for you.

Walking over to him while holding the cutting board up you smiled softly as you came to his side. He looked at you with soft eyes and a softer smile gracing his lips. You nudge him slightly with your hip and he dramatically gasped as he stepped away for a moment before quickly moving to crowd up against your side with a wicked grin taking over his smile.

“What’s the magic word?” you asked teasingly and Minho chuckled softly before he turned to face the large pot he was manning.

“I love you, duh.” he responded with a wide beaming grin on his face. Your head turned to him slowly as your own smile pulled your cheeks up high on your face as your eyes sparkled at his confession. You slowly slide the chopped potatoes into the pot for him and then turn to press a loud kiss to his cheek causing him to giggle softly at your action.

“I love you too.” you say when you pull away from his cheek and he stirs the pot once more incorporating the potatoes into the stew. You move to go back to the kitchen island but Minho’s arm comes up and wraps around your waist tugging you back into his side before he turns his head and presses a soft sweet lingering kiss to your lips that makes your heart nearly burst within your chest at the love pouring out between the two of you.

You hum softly against his lips and Minho responds with a smile against yours. The love that the two of you had nurtured and grown together was now something so beautiful and all consuming that you couldn’t help but be proud of it. You press your lips firmly against his once more in a sweet ending to your first kiss before you turn and move back to the kitchen island. You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel his hand harshly grab your ass as you walk away and he chuckles proudly as he hears your startled yelp.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken

#my writing #stray kids #skz x reader #skz #lee minho x reader #lee minho #lee know #lee know x reader

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orangameelectronics · 1 year ago

Video

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nanaminxs · 5 months ago

Note

OK HEAR ME OUT!!!!

either CamGirl!Reader and TopDonator/Fan!Jason, or vice versa, CamBoy!Jason and TDFan!Reader.

Just going from watching a stream to DMs. Maybe some crazy phone sex? Bluetooth toys?? Some personal videos js for their fan??? The streamer getting some pics back???? Who knowsss 👀

Oh baby. I’m listening. Loud and clear.

Jason Todd found himself watching different girls frequently. He’d send a few bucks, get himself off, move on, never go back. He thought with you he’d do the same. You were new, only in the industry for a few months now, but you had quickly gained a following.

They liked the innocent look you had to your face, but the way those dirty, disgusting men would degrade you and you’d get ten times wetter than you were originally said otherwise. However, no one payed you as well as Jason did. So when you started up your stream and noticed his name pop up first you didn’t think much.

The side of the screen showed the preferred amount to get you going, the pink device shoved into you set at a very low vibration. Barely enough to even get a whine out of you honestly. You welcomed in some of the older people with a sweet smile.

Then there goes 30. Before you could thank Jason for the donation the vibrator went off and you shivered. Rub yourself for me. That’s what it read. You let out a small giggle, “30 isn’t enough to get me to rub one out for you.” That sweet voice of yours rang out through the speaker of his phone and he groaned. Nearly creaming his pants at just that. No you were different. He liked you.

Jason kept coming back for you. He liked the stubbornness you put up when he sent you “small” amounts politely asking you to do more for him. But he didn’t like the idea of seeing those pretty fingers shoved into your weeping cunt while others watched as well. They could pay for that themselves.

After a few more streams he found himself in your DMs. Sending 2k for a private video of you doing whatever YOU want to make yourself cum. You were stunned to say the least. You make more than that per stream. But you’ve never had someone send that much at once!

The squelch of your pussy clamped down perfectly on that small glass dildo drove him mad as he watched you. His rough hands rubbing himself at the same pace. “Thank you Jay!” You squealed. He loved the way you gave him a perfect view of your cunt from the back, the arch of your back, just- everything you gave him!

Things got deeper between you and your new top donator and he offered to pay for a video call. You immediately accepted his request and made him aware of your “money per minute” policy which he brushed away. The call started off great, he was really cute, he was nice, funny, yadayadayada.

But now he had you under his control. Shaking his head whenever you stated you were so close to cumming- and yet another perfect orgasm RUINED! He kept up with you though, didn’t cum himself until he let you. But my golly your mouth watered everytime he stroked his fat cock on the screen.

“You close, mama? Wanna cum with me?” He huffed over the sounds of the lotion he applied to his cock as he stroked himself mercilessly. You responded to him needy.

“Please Jay- lemme cum with you, wanna cum with you!” You nodded vigorously, the fat tip of the silicone toy prodding at your cunt with every flick of your wrist, your fingers rubbing harsh circles onto that sensitive nub.

“Bet you’re wishin’ that was me, huh pretty.” He grinned, pretty white teeth on display. He made you feel seen, above sex. Above what you do. He even stayed long enough to make sure you were okay after your breathtaking orgasm.

He’s coming back. Because with you he’s never felt like some virgin schoolboy who hasn’t gotten the chance to hit puberty.

#jason todd x reader #batboys #dc comics #jason todd #dc #batfam #dcu #dc smut #cam grl #jason todd smut #dirty fics

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cult-of-husbandos · 5 months ago

Text

₊˚ʚ 🫧 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ━ 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡

pairing: soft yandere!bakudekutodo x willing!reader

genre: fluff, poly au, pro hero, gender neutral reader

synopsis: there's nothing more relaxing than taking a nice, hot bubble bath when you have the entire apartment to yourself with your playlist playing and the bathroom door locked.

word count: 4.8k

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The apartment is quiet and empty for the entire day since this morning, and you seized the chance for some much needed alone time. SWV’s Rain is playing from your bluetooth speaker, set on a low volume, softly bouncing echoes around the bathroom walls. You dipped your fingers under the running tap to test the temperature.

Hot. Perfect.

Smiling and humming to yourself, you pour in the scented bubble bath. As the bubbles formed a delicate, foamy blanket covering the tub, you turned off the tap.

You strip off your robe and sink slowly into the piping hot bubble bath. You let out a sigh of relief as you submerged your entire body into the bathtub, keeping your head above water. Thanks to your boyfriends’ unrelenting remodeling of the entire house, especially the bathroom, your bathtub is now big enough to be a sensory pod. You closed your eyes and let out another relaxing sigh, letting your body float and sway with the water.

“Fuck…” you moan. “I really needed this.”

You can’t remember the last time you had a bubble bath let alone the apartment all to yourself. Your boyfriends had to leave super early in the morning, leaving you alone once again. You wished you could enjoy your days out like before, but you had a feeling your boyfriends would tie you to the bed and never let you out ever again. Though you did have sun, or as much fun as you could, running small errands.

“I fucking love bubble baths!” you yell, splashing around and pumping your fist.

After floating and soaking in the comforting scent, you raise up and reach for your new book you bought this afternoon. You lean back and sigh again.

“Haah… this is the shit right here. All alone, 90’s R&B playing, and the latest new smut to hit the shelves for desperate housewives.”

You flip open the book and begin to read:

“In the barn where the shadows danced along the wooden walls, she walked alone, veiled in candle light. Her heart beat in a melodic rhythm longing to have a partner join in.”

“Ooh~. A spicy slow burn~.”

You continued reading, losing yourself in the novel and feeling your muscles relax in the water. For a while, nothing else existed but you, your hot bubble bath, your music, and the story unfolding in your hands.

That is, until you heard the front door of the apartment open and close. You lowered your book a bit and listened out for the sounds of who came home. You’re immediately dreading the inevitable. There’s a good reason you wanted to take this bath alone. You heard a voice call softly. The master bathroom is a bit far from the entrance. Soft beats of feet quickly turned into panicked thuds. Thuds that sounded like running. The thuds came to a halt outside the bathroom door and the doorknob jiggled stiffly/ You must’ve locked the door on instinct.

“(Y/N)?” A gentle but panicked voice called out, a bit muffled. Izuku Midoriya, the number one hero of Japan. You smile to yourself, hearing his worry. The man can knock down a building using only his pinky but can look so cute while doing it. His baby face doesn’t match his buff and scarred body and you often tease him about it, calling him the baby-faced hero.

‘It’s rare that he’s home first. That’s surprising…’ you think to yourself. A knock brought you out of your thoughts.

“Baby… are you in there?” he asked, sounded even more worried the longer you stayed silent. There’s no point in staying silent. Not only is the locked door a dead giveaway that you’re in here, but Lauryn Hill’s Ex-Factor is echoing throughout the bathroom.

“Yeah, baby. I'm in here.” you answer. “How was your day? It’s rare that you’re the first one home.”

“Oh! Good. And yeah! Things ended early at the agency so I came home as soon as I could.”

Jiggle Jiggle

“Oh really? That’s even rarer! You’re really lucky.”

Jiggle Rattle Jiggle

“Yeah! And I have even tomorrow off so we can spend all morning sleeping in together!”

Rattle Rattle Jiggle

“That’ll be fun! It’s been a while since you had a day off.”

BANG

There’s a pause on the other side of the door.

“Baby…” His voice is quiet. “Why is the door locked?”

“Because I’m in here?” you chuckle at the question. “I’m taking a bubble bath.”

“Oh, I see.” It got quiet again. “Can you come out please?”

You sigh, knowing this would happen eventually but you thought you’d be done and at least clothed. Izuku is the clingiest one out of your boyfriends, a close second to a certain icy-hottie. “I would, buuut I just got in and it’s a bit ridiculous to get out the tub, dry off, welcome you home, and get back in the tub.”

“I can get in the bathtub with you!” Izuku is no longer turning the doorknob. It sounds more like he’s pushing his weight onto the door.

“Izuku, I would really like some alone time right now.”

“What.” His tone sounded somewhere between hurt and distressed. “Are you saying you don’t want to be with me? What’re you doing in there? Are you doing something that you don’t want me to see? Why would you have the door locked in our house? What’re you hiding from me? I don’t like secrets, (Y/N). (Y/N)? Open the door. Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you really hiding something from me? You can open the door for me, right? If you can open the door that means that you have nothing to hide, right? I want to hug you and kiss you so much. Don’t you want to kiss me too? Don’t you love me anymore? Open the door please…!”

Loud banging rattled the walls as Izuku forcefully tried to get in the bathroom, muttering his feelings out loud. You, on the other hand, remained calm. You’ve dealt with this situation before and knew how to handle his spirals. You also know that the door isn’t going to budge even with Japan's strongest hero banging down on it.

“Hey Izu?” you called out, sweetly. “You’re not trying to use your quirk to break down the door, are you?”

The banging and rattling immediately stopped and was followed by a long pause.

“H-Huh?”

“Right. You wouldn’t do that because you know that during the remodeling you replaced all the doors and windows with a specific material that can’t be broken or shattered by any quirk including abnormal strength quirks, right?” You try to mask your teasing tone, but can’t help but slyly smile, imagining the embarrassed look on his face.

“N-No! I mean yes! I do remember that…” he mumbled sheepishly.

You stifle a giggle. Izuku is always fun to tease. “Zuzu. How about we make a deal?”

“A deal?”

“Yeah. If you set a time for an hour I promise, even when the rest of the boys come home first, you will be the first one to get welcome home hugs and kisses.”

This is a big deal in the apartment. It’s become routine that when the boys come home you greet them with a hug and kisses. Normally, only a certain hothead has been the reigning champion of that routine since they’re always the first one home. Izuku has always wanted to be the first one home so he can love you first, but his schedule never gave him the opportunity, having to settle for second place and, sometimes, third place. You can tell from the happy mumblings behind the door that he’s ecstatic about it, however…

“An hour? I don’t know if I can wait for an hour.” he whined.

You hum and think for a minute. “Okay, how about 45 minutes? You can get started on dinner so the time goes by faster. I’d really love it if you made me your delicious Karaage.”

“Okay! It’s a promise! I’ll get started right away!” You can hear the excitement in his voice as his footsteps headed towards the kitchen.

You laugh lightly at your goofy boyfriend and relax back into the tub, reopening your book.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Time passed and you are at a particularly steamy moment in the novel –

“Farmhand Ben ran his calloused fingers through her hair – his hot breath causing a shiver to run down her spine. This feeling was new to Dorothy. Sparks of heat were radiating from her womanhood that couldn’t be smothered by the stormy flood that soaked her cotton panties. Her nipples stood erect at the scent of a dominant man’s musk.”

“...Her what now?”

Suddenly, the front door slammed shut and heavy and impatient footsteps could be heard throughout the apartment. You jump at the sudden noise only to calm down once you recognize the shouting – Bakugou Katsuki, your second boyfriend and Japan’s number two hero. His shouts can be heard all the way to the bathroom. Again, the kitchen and the master bathroom is far so the fact you could hear him only made it more prominent how loud he’s being. You roll your eyes when you hear him shout at Izuku.

“Oi! (Y/N)! Where the hell are you?!”

Normally, Bakugou is the first one home so it’s become routine that you’re the first one he sees and he’s the first one to receive a welcome home hug and kiss. He always brags about it to make the others jealous.

You groan inwardly. You love your boyfriend, but sometimes he’s too damn loud. Before you could respond, Bakugou’s already in front of the bathroom door, hammering and rattling the door and doorknob harder than Izuku had. Izuku must’ve told him where you were.

“Welcome home, Katsuki.” you greet nonchalantly.

“Don’t fuck with me! What the hell’re you doing in there with the door locked?!” he asked, his voice full of aggression and annoyance. Typical Bakugou.

“I’m doing my taxes.”

“(Y/N).” he warned.

“I’m taking a bubble bath, Katsuki.”

“Why the hell are you taking a bath?!”

“Um, to smell good obviously.”

“Then why don’t you take a shower, dumbass?!”

“I’m not having this argument with you again!”

Another big bang came from behind the door.

“Get the hell out here! I want my hugs and kisses!” he demanded.

“I’m kinda naked and wet right now!”

“You’re always fucking wet and naked!”

Blushing, you stuttered and quickly changed the subject. “D-Didn’t you yell at Izu yesterday for tracking water on the bathroom floor after his shower?”

“That’s different! That shitty nerd can barely dry his hair and he’s always wandering around the house half-dry!”

You sigh heavily and lean back, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You refuse to let his temper ruin your mood. “Well, I’m not done yet. I’ll give you a proper ‘welcome home’ when I’m done, okay? Just be patient.”

A tense silence filled the air only lightened a bit by your music before he spoke again. “I’m not in the mood to be ignored, babe.”

“I’m not ignoring you! I just want to take a bubble bath in peace.”

You hear the muffled popping of his quirk against the door. Bakugou is a very needy person. Clingy and needy might sound the same, but between Izuku and Bakugou it’s a huge difference. Izuku is the clingy type in the same sense that he pleads and holds onto you 24/7 begging for kisses and whispering ‘i love you’s’ all day long. Bakugou is the needy type to where if you forget to give him a kiss once he’ll have a temper tantrum and demand double kisses and never let you forget it again. Whatever he wants is a need and whatever he needs he wants. You sigh again quietly hearing the muffled booms get louder and louder, the slight smell of smoke seeping into the bathroom.

“Hey Katsuki?”

“Hah?!”

“I’d really love it if you made us your spicy ramen for dinner tonight.”

“Haah?!!”

“If you make it, I promise that as soon as I’m done I’ll give you double the kisses and sit on your lap during dinner.”

There was a pause as the booms came to a stop. “You promise?”

“I promise.” you reassure.

He let out a huff. “Tch, fine! But you better keep your damn promise! Or I’m busting this damn door down!”

With that, he stormed off, grumbling loudly under his breath. You knew he wouldn’t really break down the door. Not only because it was an idle threat, but also because after Izuku made the windows and doors virtually unbreakable, he hired someone to make the doors fire retardant as well. You remember him calling Izuku an idiot for not thinking about the “obvious”. You returned back to your book, raising the volume of Mary J. Blige’s I’m Going Down slightly to drown out Bakugou’s yelling.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You lost track of time as you continued to read your novel, nearly reaching the end:

“Dorothy ran away from the ranch that night. Ran away from the barn where she became a woman. Ran away from Farmhand Ben. Ran away from the only place she ever called home. She couldn’t describe the betrayal she felt nor the heartbreak that racked her body. Heavy rain poured down on Dorothy’s small frame, soaking her white attire. She ran far on the winding dirt road, her breasts bobbing boobily with every bounce. Her nipples twirling–”

“Okay, what the actual fuck am I reading? Who the fuck wrote this?” You look at the front and back of the book. “T.I.A Morison? …There’s no picture either? Oh my god, this was written by a fucking man, wasn’t it?!”

“(Y/N), are you in there?” A soft voice called out to you, surprising you from your rant. Shoto Todoroi, your third boyfriend, is finally home. You were so wrapped up in this shitty smut that you didn’t hear the front door or his footsteps approaching the bathroom door.

“Oh, yeah Shoto. I’m in the bath,” you answer, placing your book down on the floor. “Welcome home.”

“I’m home.”

“...”

“Shoto?” you called out, wondering why he’s being silent. “Do you need something?”

“I need you.” he answered, quickly and bluntly.

You laugh. “I’m taking a bubble bath right now, honey. Can you wait until I finish?”

He pauses before speaking again. “I heard you talking about a man.”

“Oh yeah.” you grumbled, thinking to yourself that you should return the book tomorrow.

“Why?”

“Um…”

“Are you thinking of other men? Why were you shouting about another man? Is that why the door is locked?”

You sigh to yourself. Shoto is the most obsessive out of the other two with a big mix of clingy and needy. He’d burn down an apartment building at the slightest mention of you being chilly. He’s actually the one that “suggested” that you stay at home. Well, his actual first suggestion is to keep you locked in the bedroom so you won’t get hurt wandering the apartment.

“Answer me, (Y/N).” An icey bitterness blows from under the door and sends a chill down your spine, making you sink a little deeper into the now lukewarm water.

“Woah, calm down, honey.” you soothe. “I was just talking about the author of this novel I’m reading. Clearly there are men walking this earth that don’t know a goddamn thing about female anatomy!” You’re getting riled up thinking about the paragraph.

“So… you aren’t thinking about men?”

“Absolutely not. You, Katsuki, and Izuku are all I think about.”

“Prove it.”

“Um… prove what?”

“Prove that you weren’t thinking about another man. Show me the book.”

“Haah… Shoto, baby… I know that’s just a ploy to get me to open the door, but I promise that once I’m done, I’ll show you the book so that you can burn it because honestly it’s not even worth the hassle of returning it.”

“...”

“Shoto?”

“I don’t like this.”

“Hm? Don’t like what?”

“Talking to this door and… only hearing your voice. I want to see you and touch you and hold you when we talk. I don’t like it when you’re away from me.” he explained, a pleading tone evident in his voice. “It makes me… anxious.”

You feel a bit guilty. Shoto’s always the last one home so he’s always in last place to everything happening in the relationship. Cuddles, kisses, hand holding, movie nights, dinner times, date nights, etc.. Even though he never mentioned it, you always got the feeling he felt left out when it came to together and alone time since Bakugou and Izuku would swoop up and steal you. Especially during bedtime.

“I’m sorry, Sho. I didn’t mean to make you anxious.” you apologize. “To make it up to you, I will… cuddle you for the next 3 nights and make you your favorite food for those days as well. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“You promise?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I promise.” you replied.

Just then, rapid footsteps approached the door.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! It’s been 45 minutes! Remember your promise!” Izuku announced, knocking impatiently.

“Yeah yeah! Okay, I’m getting out now.”

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You emerged from the bedroom and walked into the living room, fully dried off and wearing Shoto’s shirt with your comfy dolphin shorts. You smile seeing all your boyfriends setting up the table in their own casual pajamas. Thank goodness this apartment had more than one bathroom. Once Katsuki notices you, he groans and rolls his eyes, making his way to you.

“Fucking finally! Thought you were gonna be in there all night!” He raises his arms to hug you, but you stop him.

“Nuh-uh.” You step aside.

“Huh?! The fuck you mean “nuh-uh”?!”

“Izuku got home first and I promised him that I would greet him first.”

You walk up and hug your smiley freckled boyfriend. Katsuki clicked his tongue.

“Shitty Deku! Don’t think you’re hot shit just ‘cause you got home first! If I weren’t busy dealing with idiots and shitty villains, I’d be home first! I’ll be here first tomorrow so fall back behind me, shitnerd!”

“I just got lucky to get home first, Kacchan. Don’t be selfish.” Izuku responded calmly with a smirk. He cupped your cheek and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I missed you…” he murmured into your shoulder, placing soft kisses along your clavicle.

“It was only 45 minutes, silly.” you say with a laugh. “But I missed you too.”

Izuku raised his face to look at you with a soft look in his eyes that still had a hint of neediness in them. “Yeah, but it felt like forever…” he mumbled, reluctantly letting you after a few minutes.

Katsuki stared at you intensely as you approached him. He hates being in second place, especially to Izuku. His usual scowl fixed to his face, but you know deep down he’s just as eager to get a kiss from you as the others.

“Took you long enough, dumbass.” he grumbled, his hands immediately settling on your waist and pulling you in close.

You roll your eyes playfully and wrap your arms around his neck. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He clicked his tongue and leaned in close, his lips barely touching yours. “Damn right, you should be.” he muttered, his expression softening as he leaned in for a kiss. His kisses are rough and demanding, but have an unmistakable sense of warmth and neediness. As promised, you gave him double the kisses which he took full advantage of, taking his chances to shoot boastful glares at a jealous Izuku. When he finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead against yours and stared lovingly in your eyes.

“Lock me out again and I’ll destroy every damn door in this place, got it?” he ordered, his voice taking on a commanding tone.

“Got it.” you whisper back, giving him one last peck on the nose before moving onto Shoto.

Shoto’s gaze remains unwavering as you approach him, his heterochromatic eyes staring deeply into your soul. He didn’t say a word, just simply grabbed onto your waist with a firm grasp.

“I’m home.” he whispered softly, possessiveness in his tone as he smiled at you. Before you can greet him back, he quickly leaned in and captured your lips with a slow, deep kiss that left you breathless. His cool fingers traced the line down your back causing a shiver to run down your spine. He chucked against your lips, savoring the shivers from your body pressed against him. When he pulled back, he buried his face in your neck. “Next time, let me in with you. I can’t stand being away from you too long.”

You chuckle softly and nod. “Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

With all three of them satisfied – at least for now – you pulled away and looked at your chefs for tonight’s dinner.

“Now, can we eat?” you ask, licking your lips. “I’m starving and the food smells soo good.”

Izuku nods eagerly, his eyes brightening. “Yes, of course! I hope you like it! I tried really hard to make it extra yummy for you!”

Bakugou sucked his teeth and crossed his arms. “If it tastes like shit, I’m killing you, shitty nerd!”

You giggle lightly at the banter happening between two of your boyfriends and take a seat next to Bakugou as promised, which made him smirk in silent pride. He nearly pulled you into his lap, that’s how close he wanted you next to him. However, you weren’t focused on that. You were focused on the delicious aroma of fried chicken and spicy ramen that filled the living room. The combination of food in front of you makes your mouth water and the table is soon filled with the chattering of chopsticks and the satisfied slurps and hums of approval.

“Mm! You really outdid yourself, Izu!” you exclaim between bites, munching eagerly on the chicken. “This is amazing!”

“I’m glad you like it! I tried my best!” Izuku beamed, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

Katsuki huffed. “It’s not that amazing. It’s under-seasoned and the chicken is chewy as hell.”

Yet, you saw that he continued to eat the non-amazing chicken. “Aww~! Are you jealous, Ka-tsu-ki~?” you tease.

A bright red blush covered Bakugou’s cheeks and the tip of ears. “H-Hah?! Fucking no!”

“I love your spicy ramen too, Katsuki. You’re such an amazing chef.” Sometimes it helps to stroke his ego to yield his jealousy.

Bakugou huffed again, clearly pleased with your praise, but trying to play it off. “Of course it’s good. I made it, didn’t I?”

You laugh at his tsundere-like response, but before you could tease him anymore, Izuku interjected. “So, how was your day, (Y/N)? What did you do while we were out?”

“Oh, not much.” you answer, taking a bit of spicy ramen. “Just ran a few errands, went to the bookstore, not much else.”

They all stopped immediately and gave you varying looks of surprise and concern.

Shoto raises his eyebrow. “You went outside?”

“Mhm.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah, but just for a bit.” you reassure, already sensing the possessiveness radiating from them. “Plus, I wasn’t gone all day. Maybe 2 or 3 hours max and just to a couple of stores.”

Each of your boyfriends exchanged knowing looks as you continued.

“Oh! I also ran into Sero and Kaminari while I was out.”

That set them off. Izuku’s eyes darkened at the mention of their names, small lines of smoke rose from Shoto, and Bakugou scowled harshly, snapping his chopsticks in half and pulling you closer to him tightly.

“Those two extra?” Bakugou growled irritably. “What the fuck did they want with you?”

“They just said hi and asked how everyone was doing,” you tell them, shrugging. “Oh! And Kaminari said that there’s going to be a drinking party this Friday and they want you to come, Katsuki. He said Mina, Kirishima, and Ochako are gonna be there too–”

“Fuck that!” he spat. “Why the hell would I want to waste my time with those bastards when I can come home and drink for free and be with people I actually care about?!”

“Aw Bakubabe–”

“Shut the fuck up, Icy-hot!”

“Well, they knew you would say that so they told me to tell you that they're gonna go ahead and reserve the restaurant anyway. They didn’t tell me the name because they were afraid you’d call and cancel, but they did say that it was a place that had your credit card on file.”

Tiny sparks popped from Bakugou’s clenched fist, burning his broken chopsticks. “Those damn bastards…”

Shoto’s expression remained neutral, but the grip on his chopsticks tightened, freezing it nearly solid. “I don’t like the idea of you going out alone.” Shoto said firmly.

Izuku, trying to stay calm but visibly anxious, chimed in as well. “I agree with Todoroki! W-What if something happened to you and we couldn’t get to you? There’s been an increase in villain attacks lately and I’d never forgive myself if–”

“Woah there, Zuzu. Breathe, all of you. Nothing happened I swear. I was careful and made sure to stay in the safe areas. Besides, I’m pretty capable of defending myself with all the stuff you guys gave me. The pepper spray, taser, pocket knives, mace, bear mace, brass knuckles, brass knuckles with a taser in it–”

“W-What?! I never gave you any of that stuff!”

“I gave it to them. You can never be too cautious with these fucking people.” Katsuki grumbled, his grip tightening on your thigh.

“Katsuki’s right. And I promise, it was just a quick trip. I just didn’t want to be cooped up inside all day. I really don’t mind staying inside, but I really had an itch to go outside today. I’ve even read every book in this house, even the manual for the dishwasher, refrigerator, and toaster oven which is why I went to the bookstore. Oh, that reminds me. Shoto sweetie, I need you to burn a book for me.”

Bakugou grumbled something under his breath, still clearly annoyed, but he didn’t push it further since the bigger problem of Sero and Kaminari abusing his card in a random restaurant made him angrier. Shoto’s gaze lingered on you a bit longer before he sighed and nodded, accepting your explanation.

“Wait… burn your book?”

To ease the tension, Izuku quickly perked up. “Oh! I know! Since I’m off tomorrow, if you want, how about we go on a date? Just the two of us.” His eyes sparkled with excitement.

You smile at him. “We haven’t been out together in a while. I’d love that.”

“Yay! It’s a date!” he exclaimed, giddy with anticipation.

The rest of dinner became relaxed again as you all talked about your day, the current hero gossip, and the latest on villain activity in the city.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

After dinner, you all heated to bed. As promised, you cuddled up next to Shoto, who’s already lying under the covers waiting for you. He pulled you into his embrace the moment you slipped into bed, his blend of cool and hot soothing you.

“I’ve been looking forward to this since dinner.” Shoto whispered against your ear, his breath tickling your neck and sending shivers down your spine. His grip on you is firm, almost like he’s staking his claim on you, but there’s a gentleness in how he holds you close.

You snuggled closer into him, feeling his heartbeat steady against your back. “I promised, didn’t I?” you murmured back, smiling.

Meanwhile, Izuku and Bakugou stood at the foot of the bed, looking at you two with a mixture of resignation and jealousy. Izuku pouted, clearly wanting to be the one holding you and Bakugou just crossed his arms, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Tch! You’re hogging them, you icy-hot bastard.” Katsuki complained.

Shoto simply closed his eyes, content with having you in his arms. “You’ll get your turn in 3 days.” he sighed calmly.

“What the hell?!”

“3 days?! That’s not fair!”

“A promise is a promise, Zuku. Don’t be selfish.” you say, throwing his words back at him.

It was Izuku’s turn to huff with a pout. He climbed into bed, facing you while Bakugou settled in behind him. “Fine,” he grumbled, a pout on his adorable lips. “but I’m not letting you get away with this again.” He reached out his hand to gently touch your, interlocking your fingers with his. Katsuki grunted in agreement, sleep taking over him.

As the night grew quiet, the soft sound of their breathing lulled you to sleep. Shoto’s arms were wrapped securely around you and Izuku intimately held your hand even in deep sleep. Bakugou’s soft snoring even sounded melodic. Their combined warmth surrounded you in a cocoon of affection.

Maybe next time you’ll invite them to your next bubble bath.

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

a/n: making my first poly mha fanfic so i hope i did good! also trying out a new new style and format so let me know if you like it! my inbox is open so if you have a suggestion, shoot me one. i'm not the best at answering, but i do my best!♡

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pholla-jm · 27 days ago

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We're Breaking Up

IMAGINE: WE'RE BREAKING UP~ GOJO X READER GENRE: FLUFF warnings: not proof read. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world around you blurred as you drove behind the wheel. You were zoning out to the tranquil music that surrounded you. All was peaceful, until the loud ringing of your cell phone cut through the Bluetooth speaker.

Your eyes glance down at the screen seeing the familiar name of your boyfriends name pop up.

Moving your thumb to the answer button, the familiar click of picking up the phone is heard.

“Daaaarling!” Gojo’s singing voice cuts through the speaker, causing you to flinch and lower the volume a bit.

Always so loud when answering.

“Hey, baby. I’m assuming you're done with your mission?” “Yup! And I have a special dinner planned.” You could hear the excitement in his voice causing your own feelings of giddiness.

“Ooh! I’m so excited. What do you have planned?” You ask.

“Well I… tell… that.”

Static started to interfere with his voice, causing it to breakin in and out. You notice that you were coming up to a tunnel.

“Ah, sorry, Toru.Our connection, I think we’re breaking up. So I’ll call you later. Bye!” You say, not waiting for his response and hanging up.

However, it sounded a bit different from Gojo’s perspective.

He was shopping, picking up your favorite flowers and talking to you on the phone.

“Well I can’t tell you that.” Gojo responds, happy that you were feeling just as excited as him. He could hear a bit of static on the phone but he didn’t think anything of it.

“Uh, sorry… Toru…. We’re b-breaking… up..” The line went dead causing his heart to drop.

Breaking up?! What do you mean by that?!

He frantically clicks your contact on the phone, hoping to reach you. However, the call goes straight to voicemail causing him to think of the worst.

Oh no, he simply couldn’t have this.

He turns back to the vendor, and pulls out his wallet.

“I’ll buy all of these.” Causing the vendor's eyes to widen as Gojo pulls out his black card.

With the unsuspected traffic, you ended up home a bit later than you would have liked. You see Gojo’s car in the driveway and the lights are on. You smile, excitement filling you again just from the thought of seeing him.

You grab your bag, quickly making your way into the house.

What you see next shocks you. The front of the formal living room was covered in flowers. You honestly couldn’t see any of the living space.

“Wa- what in the world…” You whisper as you look at the variety of the flowers.

“Baaabby!” Gojo shouts while throwing himself on you. “Oof.” Your arms wrap around Gojo, stabling both you and him.

“Toru’. Baby. What’s all this?”

Gojo leans back a little, a pout on his face and you couldn’t understand why he was upset.

“Please, I don’t want to break up.” He says in a low voice. It was like saying the words made the situation feel real, and he didn’t like that.

You were taken back by his words. You had no idea where this was coming from. “What? Babe, what are you talking about?” “On the phone. You said that we’re breaking up.” He responds and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Earlier? No. I said that our connection was bad. That we were breaking up. I was driving into a tunnel.”

Gojo’s perks up hearing your words.

“So, we’re not breaking up?”

You laugh, “no, silly. You’re stuck with me.” “Good, I want to be stuck with you.”

“Is this why you bought all these flowers?” You ask him, once again looking at the outrageous amount of flowers.

He looks at you with a smug smile.

“Well, I had to bring my A-game.”

#oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo fluff

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 days ago

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Title: Tracing Your Constellations

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women's Basketball

Rating: Mature

Warnings: wlw smut, !purple strap Paige, !soft drunk top paige, !soft drunk bottom reader, mentions of alcohol, sensuality, and intimacy.

Summary: A night filled with passion, vulnerability, and love unfolds as Paige and the reader find themselves lost in each other. Fueled by soft music, stolen glances, and whispered promises, they navigate the delicate balance of love and desire.

Based off the song Constellations by Jade LeMac

The lights were off, save for the faint glow of a lamp in the corner. A low hum of music played from the Bluetooth speaker on the dresser, the soft melody filling the air. Paige sat cross-legged on the floor, a half-empty bottle of tequila beside her, her head tilted back as she laughed at something I said. Her tiny hint of subtle freckles caught the dim light, mapping her face like tiny constellations in the night sky.

“This feeling,” she said softly, her voice carrying over the music, “it’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Her words hung in the air, and I nodded, my lips curling into a small smile. “It is,” I murmured.

Paige leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. Her eyes met mine, and they held a warmth that sent shivers down my spine. She reached out, her hand finding its place on my waist, pulling me closer. The tequila had loosened our inhibitions, but the love between us had always been clear.

I took another sip of my drink, feeling the warmth spread through me as Paige’s fingers lightly traced circles on my side. “You know,” she said, her voice low and teasing, “you’ve got more freckles than me, you're a walking constellations, ma”

“Really, I hadn’t noticed.” I state, in a sassy tone.

Paige nodded, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Yup. And I think I’m gonna map them out.”

Her fingers trailed upward, brushing the fabric of my shirt aside to expose more of my shoulder. She leaned in, her breath warm against my skin as she pressed a soft kiss to a freckle just above my collarbone.

“Found one,” she whispered, her lips ghosting over my skin.

“Paige,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “you’re such a dork.”

“And yet,” she replied, her lips quirking into a smirk, “you’re letting me do it.”

Two shots in

The music shifted to something slower, a sultry rhythm that matched the energy between us. Paige’s hands moved to my hips, guiding me as we swayed together. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, her lips brushing against my skin in a way that made my breath hitch.

“You smell so good,” she murmured, her voice muffled.

“Paige, you’re drunk,” I teased, though my hands moved to tangle in her hair.

“I’m tipsy,” she corrected, pulling back to look at me. Her blue eyes were darker now, filled with an emotion that made my knees weak. “And I’m completely serious.”

Four shots in

The tequila had long been forgotten, replaced by the intoxicating taste of Paige’s lips. We tumbled onto the bed, laughter bubbling between us before it dissolved into something deeper.

Her fingers found the hem of my shirt, and she pulled it over my head, tossing it somewhere behind her. “You’re so beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with awe.

“Paige,” I whispered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

She grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. “You don’t even realize it, do you? How stunning you are?”

I let out a soft gasp as her warm, yet cold ringed hands make their way up to my bra. “Paige.” I say barely above a whisper. “I’ll guide you through it,” she promised, her tone reassuring yet enticing. “Just relax and trust me.”

With a gentle touch, Paige helped me undress, out the rest of my clothes, every fabric that fell away intensifying the electric atmosphere between us. I felt exposed yet safe, and the fluttering in my stomach only heightened the anticipation of what was to come. Once I was out of my clothes I help Paige strip down to only her sports bra.

Paige, kiss my forehead before walking to the night stand and pulling out the purple strap, she secured the strap around her waist, her movements confident and careful. She looked down at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, checking in with me.

I smiled, feeling a rush of affection. “More than okay,” I replied, stepping closer to Paige, our bodies almost touching.

“Good,” Paige said, her lips curling into a seductive smile. She leaned in, capturing my lips in a soft, intoxicating kiss. It was sweet and gentle, igniting a fire within me that spread like wildfire.

As we kiss, Paige pulled back slightly, our foreheads resting against each other. “I’m going to take care of you,” she whispered. “Just let me know what you want.”

I nod, feeling a sense of trust wash over me. With each passing moment, the tension built, and the air around us felt thick with desire. Paige took my hand, guiding me to the bed.

“Lie back for me,” she instructed softly. I followed her lead, my heart racing in anticipation. Paige climbed onto the bed, after letting a string of spit fall to the tip of the purple strap, hovering above me, her presence both dominating and comforting.

“Are you ready?” Paige asked, her voice a sultry whisper.

I nod, excitement and tequila coursing through my veins. Paige positioned herself, the purple strap glistening in the soft light. She leaned down, her lips brushing against my ear as she spoke. “Just breathe, and I’ll take it slow.”

I shuttered nodding as her hot breath hits my ear just before she attaches her lips to my neck, jaw, collarbone and to my lips.

“M'please Paige need you.” I whimper out softly.

With that, Paige slowly entered me, and a gasp escaped my lips. There was a mix of pleasure and a slight sting, but Paige stayed focused, ensuring the experience was perfect for me as if we've never done it before. “You’re doing amazing, pretty girl” she murmured, her voice soothing as she moved gently.

“Just relax and let me take care of you, hm” Paige continued, her hands caressing my body, grounding me-us in the moment. Every thrust was careful yet filled with passion, and I felt myself melting into the sheets, consumed by the sensation.

Paige’s gaze was locked onto mine, more so my eyes rolling to the back of my head with esch thrust, a connection deeper than words could express. “Tell me how it feels,” she encouraged, her voice a melody of tenderness and desire.

“It feels incredible,” I breathed, my body arching off the bed into Paige’s rhythm.

Paige leaned down, capturing my lips in a heated kiss, our tongues dancing together as the world outside faded away. The communication between us was electric, every sigh and moan igniting a fire that burned brighter with each passing moment.

“Just like that,” Paige whispered, her breath hot against my skin. “You’re so beautiful. Doin such a good job f'me, ma.”

I felt a rush of warmth at her words, the compliment wrapping around me like a soft blanket. With each movement, we felt more connected, more alive. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring us to this very moment.

Finally, as the coil reached its peak of snapping, I let a cry out, the pleasure crashing over me like a tidal wave, pulling me under in bliss. Paige followed closely behind, our connection reaching new heights as we fell together into the afterglow.

Breathless and intertwined, we lay together, hearts still racing as we basked in the warmth of our shared intimacy. I turned to Paige, her ocean blue eyes sparkling with affection. “That was amazing,” I said, with my voice filled with awe.

Paige chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it mamas,” she replied, a playful grin spreading across her face.

The night stretched on, the world outside our little bubble fading away. Paige traced invisible patterns on my skin, her touch light and soothing. “You’re everything to me,” she said softly, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.

I turned my head to look at her, my heart swelling at the vulnerability in her expression. “You’re everything to me, too.”

8:15 a.m.

The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. The music had stopped, leaving only the sound of our breathing. Paige sat up, her hair a mess and her face still carrying the softness of sleep.

“You know,” she said, her voice raspy, “I’d do it all over again. Every kiss, every touch. I’d trace your constellations forever.”

I smiled, reaching out to pull her back down beside me. “Forever sounds perfect.”

And as we lay there, tangled in each other, the rest of the world ceased to matter.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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solarmorrigan · 3 months ago

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The Phantom Menace (no, not that one)

For the @steddie-spooktober day 28 prompt: Mask Rated: T | Words: 1118 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, modern AU, Eddie Munson is a menace, Eddie Munson is whipped, Steve Harrington is a tease, for the good of everyone present at the Halloween party Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie is a menace.

And a goddamn pain in the ass.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t love him – Eddie is very lucky that Steve does love him, in fact, because Steve would otherwise have lost his patience about half an hour into this shit and ditched him to find his own ride home from the Halloween party.

And Steve had even liked Eddie’s choice of costume at first. He’ll admit that he hadn’t been super into Phantom of the Opera when they’d watched it—a little too theatrical to really be up Steve’s alley—but he’d definitely seen the appeal in Eddie’s Phantom costume.

The waistcoat he’d thrifted had been a hell of a find; it fits him almost perfectly. He’d sewn a cloak that he’d had entirely too much fun twirling around in when he’d finished it. The white half mask had given him an alluring air of mystery, and with his hair tied back? The whole thing had added up to a very attractive picture.

Until the night of the party, when Eddie had decided to be, as previously mentioned, a fucking menace.

He’s been fucking with people all night; nothing mean or destructive (Steve supposes they should all count themselves lucky that Eddie isn’t playing with fire), but irritating as shit. He’s jumping out from around corners and scaring people, he’s stealing things off the snack table and leaving them in weird places, he keeps changing the music from generic Halloween shit to opera (no one is sure how he’s doing this, since access to the Bluetooth speaker is being carefully guarded), he laughs maniacally every time someone expresses annoyance with his tricks, and he’s refusing to stop unless he’s paid 20,000 francs.

Robin offered him a dollar to stop tugging the back of her shirt and running away any time she turns her back to him; he’d argued that the offer was far too low, but had graciously accepted after she’d threatened to smother him with his own cloak.

The most annoying part, however, is that he absolutely refuses to answer to his name. Any time someone snaps out some variation of “Eddie, cut it the fuck out,” he dramatically asks “Eddie? Who is this Eddie? I am The Phantom!” before turning away, flourishing his cloak like Batman as he goes.

“You’re his boyfriend,” Robin insists, leaning up against the counter beside Steve; he’s been hiding in the kitchen for the last half hour, hoping no one will remember that he and Eddie had shown up together, “can’t you make him stop?”

“You think I have literally any control over him?” Steve asks. “He’s like a tornado; you just have to wait him out and hope insurance covers whatever damage he causes.”

Robin snorts. “Okay, but can’t you use, like, your wiles?”

Steve stares at her. “My what?”

“Your wiles. You know, be sexy at him, or whatever.” Robin wiggles her fingers vaguely in Steve’s direction. “That man is weak for you. I’m willing to bet he’ll do anything you ask if you flash your cleavage at him.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, hiding the way the shirt of his Indiana Jones costume is halfway unbuttoned, gaping open to reveal a decent (or maybe slightly indecent) amount of skin. “I do not have cleavage.”

“Whatever.” Robin rolls her eyes, then perks up at the sound of Eddie’s crazed chuckling coming close to the kitchen doorway. “Oh! Here he comes! Do it!”

“I’m not going to–”

“Do it,” Robin hisses, tugging on Steve’s arm until he comes away from the counter and giving him a shove in the direction of the doorway just as Eddie comes sweeping through.

Robin skirts around him, pointing two fingers at her eyes and then jabbing a single finger at Eddie, the universal sign for I’m watching you, as she goes by, and Eddie holds his hands up in surrender. She takes a moment to send one more look over her shoulder at Steve before she leaves, and, well – Steve guesses he might as well try it, before someone actually decides to murder Eddie.

“Hey, Phantom,” Steve says, approaching the kitchen island.

Eddie, halfway through ladling punch into a plastic cup, looks up at Steve and grins. “Hello, there.” His voice is deeper than usual, a dramatic affectation for his costume, and any other time, Steve would appreciate the sexy rasp; unfortunately, it’s currently attached to Eddie in full pest mode.

“So,” Steve drawls, leaning his forearms on the island, making sure to angle himself so his shirt falls open just a little bit farther, “I’ve been meaning to ask: I don’t suppose you’ve seen my boyfriend, Eddie, around, have you?”

It takes Eddie a moment to answer, his eyes glued to the span of skin and chest hair Steve’s putting on display. “Eddie?” he finally asks, gaze snapping back up to Steve’s face. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you mean.”

Steve hums, a little, disappointed noise. “That’s too bad,” he says, giving Eddie a bit of a pout. “See, I thought his costume was pretty hot tonight, and I thought maybe we could… y’know, slip away from everyone else, so I could show him just how much I liked it.”

Eddie swallows. “You don’t say,” he says, voice gone a little faint.

“Mm.” Steve sighs. “But since I can’t find him, and you haven’t seen him, I guess I just won’t–”

“Actually,” Eddie cuts in, almost frantically, “now that you mention it, I think I might have seen him.”

A slow smirk draws across Steve’s face. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods quickly. “Let me just– I’ll go see if I can find him for you.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Steve says sweetly, leaning a little further onto the island (he does not, whatever Robin says, have cleavage, but if the move pushes his pecs up just a bit more, well – that’s just a bonus).

Eddie turns away, entirely forgetting to flourish his cloak, and ducks out through the kitchen doorway.

He reappears moments later, his white half-mask in hand, one side of his face still a little red and sweaty from where it’s been resting all night.

“Steve!” he exclaims, arms thrown wide. “I haven’t seen you all night! But, uh, someone told me that you’ve been looking for me.”

Steve rolls his eyes, coming around from behind the island; committed to the bit to the bitter end, that’s Eddie.

Somehow, Steve wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Someone was right,” Steve says, hooking a finger beneath Eddie’s bowtie and tugging him closer, leaning in to meet his lips in a deep kiss.

The Phantom doesn’t make an appearance for the rest of the night.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #steddie-spooktober #I've only watched Phantom once and I couldn't remember how much money he wanted from the theater so I had to look it up #I'm sorry if it's wrong :[#anyway here's Eddie being a weirdo and Steve loving him in spite of (or maybe even because of) that #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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