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dystopic-view · 2 months

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Encounter with a Yakuza Member 18+

Nanami x fem/afab reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: You're going home from work when suddenly, you're kidnapped by 3 mysterious men. You're taken to a secondary location, and you wake up in a penthouse with 10 other men, only to witness a stranger barge into the room, and disposing of every single one of them. Said stranger decides you're his problem now, so you're going with him whether you want to or not.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: yakuza Nanami, nsfw, brief descriptions of violence and death, kidnapping, being unconscious, mentions of blood, smoking, suggestive content, fluff, smut, fingering, kinda enemies to lovers, kinda breeding kink, happy ending

𝐖.𝐂: 8.7K

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: This is based on a prompt from a bot I saw on J.ai, credits to stormiedeen

It was a regular Tuesday afternoon.

I had just gotten out of the coffee shop I had been working at for about 3 years, and I was walking down the narrow dimly lit streets of Tokyo, heading towards my small apartment.

As always, the experience was extremely unsettling.

Every time I worked late shifts I always encountered drunk and sketchy people during my walk home.

My heart raced inside my chest at every comment, stare or interaction they directed my way.

But tonight was different.

It was 08:00 PM, and the streets were eerily quiet.

An extremely odd occurrence.

Being alone in those normally crowded streets, left an uneasy feeling creeping up my insides as I made my way forward, my eyes jolting back and forth anxiously.

I fastened my pace, eventually spotting my street appearing in the distance when suddenly, 2 men walked out from the adjacent streets to the one I was walking on.

They were wearing black suits, and dark sunglasses over their eyes, their lips thinly pressed together with an intimidating expression on their face.

And they were staring directly at me.

I stopped dead in my tracks, taking a few steps back, sensing whatever these men were intending on doing with me, couldn't be good.

I kept walking backwards until I felt my back press against something.

Not something, someone.

I turned my head slightly to the side, spotting another man wearing a black suit and sunglasses from the corner of my eye.

I didn’t even have a chance to react before I felt a wet rag cover my nose and mouth, a strong chemical odor burning through my nostrils, making my eyes water instantly.

The two men in front of me were now standing by my side, their hands wrapped around my arms as I trashed around trying to free myself from their grasp, the rag still over my lips and nose.

My hearing soon became muffled, and my vision blurred until everything turned black.

The next time I woke up, I was laying on a couch with my wrists and ankles bound with zip ties, and a piece of tape covering my mouth. I realized I was inside the penthouse of a skyscraper.

Looking around, alI could see was the bright Tokyo skyline, every wall of the big room lined with floor to ceiling length windows.

I slowly peeked my head from over the couch, and I spotted elevator doors to my left, and to my right, in the furthest point of the room there was a dark oak table. There were around 10 men surrounding it, a conversation going on which I couldn't exactly make out.

All of them were wearing black suits as well.

I spotted the same 3 men who attacked me, sitting down by it.

I lowered my head, and began trying to free myself from my restraints.

I tried to separate my wrists, feeling the plastic of the ziptie digging into them, the skin around it reddening almost instantly.

It was impossible.

The room became quiet all of a sudden.

‘‘Fuck.’’ I whispered to myself.

They must’ve heard me struggling.

One of the suited men appeared in front of me, and I could swear I felt my heart stop beating for a few seconds as I watched him take a small knife out of his pocket.

He crouched down in front of me, a sadistic smirk covering his lips. I felt a sense of dread wash upon me, But instead of hurting me with it, he instead cut off both of the zipties. He reached towards my face with his hand and pulled off the tape from my lips harshly, eliciting a wince out of me due to the stinging pain.

As if nothing happened, he got up, and walked back towards the table, sitting at it once more.

The conversation resumed. I sat there dumbfounded for a few seconds, not knowing exactly what to do and what my next move should be.

Should I make a run for the elevator? Should I scream for help? Should I beg for my life? I truly didn’t know what to do, so I simply froze.

I stared blankly at the window in front of me, my gaze locked in the stars in the sky.

I remained there, motionless for what felt like hours.

My mindless thoughts were eventually interrupted by the ding of the elevator.

I looked over at the doors, and out came a tall blonde man wearing a dark navy blue suit with white stripes, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

He had an unamused expression on his face, and the way he was carrying himself as he walked into the room made me assume he was in charge.

But judging by the shocked look on the other men's faces, that didn’t seem to be the case.

Many of them were grasping their sides, reaching for their guns or knives.

The blonde man sucked in some smoke from his cigarette, before puffing it out and dropping it on the carpet beneath his feet.

He stepped on it, putting it out.

He glanced down at his watch, and grumbled in a quietly frustrated tone, ‘‘8:40. Fucking bastard.’’

One of the surprised men then shouted, ‘‘Who the fuc–’’ being promptly interrupted by a bullet straight through his forehead.

Everything that came after was absolute utter chaos.

The man ran forward, quickly disposing of every single person sitting at that table, using a combination of a pistol and a large knife.

I ducked down on the couch, my gaze in a widened state of shock, completely disturbed by the ordeal. I covered my ears trying to mask the screams from the men getting slaughtered by this mysterious figure.

By the end, the room was a mess of blood and scattered bodies on the ground.

From behind the couch, I heard the metal clinking of a cigarette case opening and closing, and the satisfying sound of a Zippo lighter igniting.

I heard him inhaling and exhaling deeply, the scent of cigarette smoke quickly wafting through the room.

I was trying my best to remain unnoticed, not wanting to be seen by a man who had just killed an entire room of people, but I unconsciously let out a whimper as I heard the sound of glass crunching under his feet.

Normally, that obviously wouldn’t have scared me, but I was so on edge I couldn't help but make a sound.

Quickly, I covered my mouth with my hand, realizing what I had just done.

The sound of his footsteps moved closer, until he was standing directly in front of me, a terrified expression plastered all over my face.

He had a cigarette between his lips once more, and he was staring at me with furrowed brows and a face I could only describe as threatening.

I looked up from the couch, completely terrified, my whole body shaking from the experience.

I was scared for my life, fearing I would suffer the same fate as the men lying lifeless on the ground, simply by being in the same space as them.

He stepped towards me, and reached out, placing his hand behind my head, his fingers interlocking with my hair hastily pulling me up to stand.

‘‘Hey problem. Why’re you hiding?’’ He tilted his head to the side, looking me up and down.

I winced in pain at the sudden aggression, and he didn’t even let me answer his question before beginning to walk towards the elevator doors, practically dragging me by my hair, ‘‘Tsk. My shifts’ over, so you’re coming with me.’’

I whimpered once more at the pain burning through my scalp, his fingers tightly wrapped around my hair.

He rolled his eyes at the sound that came from my lips, and I felt his grip on my hair loosen ever so slightly.

‘‘Stop that noise, I’m not going to hurt you.’’

His tone was cold and harsh as he dragged me into the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage, finally letting go of my hair.

‘‘Yet.’’ He added, glancing over at me, his expression unreadable.

‘‘What’s your name, and what were you doing here?’’

The elevator started making its descent.

Something told me he wasn't kidding about hurting me if I kept being a nuisance.

There was a dangerous aura surrounding this man, and I was dreading being around him.

I tried my best to calm down, despite the fact I was literally being manhandled by someone who just killed 10 people with no effort.

‘‘I’m y/n.’’ I spoke up quietly, my voice trembling slightly.

‘‘I was going home after work, and 3 of those guys grabbed me, put something over my mouth and the next thing i knew everything was black…’’ I uttered, trying my hardest to remember the moments that followed my blackout.

The man simply raised his eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over me.

I noticed he was covered in blood, and I couldn't help but stare at his stained clothes in shock, although from the way he was acting, it seemed like it was such a normal thing to him.

‘‘Y/n, huh? Nice to meet you.’’ He smirked slightly, and leaned against the elevator wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘‘So, they kidnapped you and brought you here. Did they mention why?" His gaze sharpened.

‘‘They didn't speak to me at all…’’ I whispered back, my voice laced with uncertainty as I looked down at my feet.

‘‘I just remember being grabbed in the street, blacking out, and waking up with my hands and feet tied up on that couch…’’ I grabbed a lock of my hair, fidgeting with it between my fingers, while retelling the events.

‘‘I think one of them noticed me struggling to free myself, got up from the desk, removed my restraints and then went back to where he was sitting… A bit after, you showed up…’’

The man nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face.

‘‘I see. Well, it seems they had no intention of keeping you alive if they were just allowing you to eavesdrop on their business.’’

I shivered a little at this ominous remark, figuring these people probably meant to harm me.

His eyes were locked on the ground, I could tell he was thinking about something.

As the elevator arrived at the parking garage, his eyes traveled up, finding mine.

His expression softened slightly.

He then pushed off from the elevator wall as the doors opened, walking out of it.

I exited the elevator, but stayed slightly behind.

‘‘Come on.’’ He gestured for me to follow him with his hand.

‘‘Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this place.’’

I remained frozen in place next to the entrance of the parking garage, as he walked towards a sleek black Mercedes parked in the corner.

‘‘You can tell me more in the car.’’

I parted my lips in awe.

I witnessed this man commit a horrific crime and he was actually expecting me to just get in the car with him.

I mustered every ounce of courage I had inside of me, and spoke out in a trembling voice.

‘‘I’m not getting in the car with you, sir.’’ My body shook nervously, fearing the outcome of going against his wishes.

He stopped walking, and slowly turned to face me.

‘‘Excuse me?’’ He raised his eyebrow, his voice dangerously low.

‘‘I suggest you come with me y/n. For your own good.’’

He took a few steps towards me, stopping right in front of where I was standing, his figure looming over mine.

I looked up into his eyes, my breathing shaky and my heart beating so fast I thought it might stop any second.

‘‘I can walk home by myself, sir.’’ I said, trembling, his menacing appearance too intimidating to bear.

‘‘And how do you plan on doing that?’’ He scoffed, a hint of irritation in his voice, almost like he was making fun of my remark.

I could tell how stupid he found my suggestion to be, and that irked me.

‘‘You’re in the middle of nowhere, y/n.’’ He leaned in closer, his voice low. ‘‘Now, you either come with me willingly, or… I make you come with me. Your choice.’’

My body shook in fear, knowing I didn't actually have a choice, despite it appearing like he was giving me one.

He could overpower me with ease if I tried to escape or fight back, and the feeling of helplessness was dreadful.

‘‘Where are you taking me?’’ I inquired, still frozen in place, my voice still shaky, unsure if I should trust him or not.

He straightened his posture up, and the tension in his face melted away, his eyes more gentle now.

‘‘Somewhere safe. For now.‘‘

He turned around and started walking towards the car again.

‘‘Please get in the car, y/n. We'll talk more once we're out of here." He opened the passenger side door, and gestured for me to get in.

‘‘Please.’’ He added, his tone surprisingly kind given the circumstances.

I took a deep breath, and walked over to the car, slipping inside and sitting in the passenger seat.

An impending sense of doom washed over me, and I started feeling as if those were my last moments.

I was a witness to a crime after all, and that left an uneasy feeling in my gut that I couldn't shake off.

Furthermore, I was getting inside of a car owned by the perpetrator of said crime.

Allowing him to take me wherever he wanted.

But I felt like I had no choice.

I shakily began putting the seatbelt on, the nerves getting to me, my breathing heavier.

Once I was buckled in, he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, getting in. He started the car, pulled out of the parking spot and began driving towards the exit.

‘‘As for where we're going... I’m taking you to my place. It's the safest option right now."

He glanced over at me as he spoke, his expression emotionless, before he turned his attention to the road.

‘‘Why can’t I go back to my own house?’’ I dared to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at me briefly, his face serious but oddly, no signs of anger or aggression in it.

‘‘Because your house isn’t safe anymore, y/n.’’ He said in a matter-of-fact way.

‘‘Those men knew where to find you. It won’t take long for others to figure it out too. At least at my place I can keep you safe.’’

He wanted to keep me safe?

I saw how his grip tightened around the steering wheel, and I thought to myself that he might be right. But I couldn’t let my guard down.

I began wondering if he actually wanted to keep me safe, or if he was trying to make me trust him enough to get rid of me when the right time came.

‘‘Who are you?’’ I managed to ask, my voice filled with uncertainty.

‘‘I’m Nanami Kento.’’ His gaze remained locked on the road ahead.

‘‘And I work for the Yakuza.’’ My breathing hitched as he spoke.

I had only heard of them, but I knew they were a group of people not to be messed with.

‘‘I'm the one who was assigned to kill those men tonight. And I'm the one who's going to ensure you’re safe.’’

Learning he was associated with the Yakuza confirmed my suspicions that he was a dangerous man, and I was even more doubtful on whether I should trust him or not.

I simply kept my gaze locked on the passing street lights, looking straight ahead, and nodded my head.

Although I couldn’t shake my head away from the thought of him being concerned for my safety.

Nanami noticed my reaction, and he looked over at me, his voice soft. "Don't worry, y/n. I won't hurt you. I'll give you my word."

The sincerity in his tone made it impossible for me not to believe him.

‘‘But I need you to trust me. Can you do that?’’

I turned my head to the side, locking my gaze with his.

Despite his intimidating aura, I felt a sense of security coming from him, and something reassured me he was speaking the truth.

‘‘I think so…’’ I replied quietly, a sliver of uncertainty still lingering in the air.

He nodded, a small smile playing across his lips.

‘‘Good. That’s all I ask for. For now’’.

He focused back on the road, navigating through the busy streets of Tokyo.

‘‘We’ll be at my place soon. You can relax now.’’

Finding relaxation difficult to achieve at the time, I simply turned my attention back towards the road.

I focused my gaze on the shiny neon street signs of the Tokyo streets, and I leaned my head to the side, resting it against the car window.

Nanami kept driving for a while, and the bouncing of the car was slowly lulling me to sleep, the exhaustion of the night's events catching up to me.

My eyelids started feeling heavy, and before I knew it, I was beginning to fall asleep against the glass.

He glanced over at me, noticing my slumped over position, and I felt his body lean over me, his forearm hovering over my lap and his hand reaching underneath my seat.

‘‘Here, lean back’’. The seat started to recline.

‘‘Get some rest, y/n. You’ve been through a lot tonight. I’ll wake you up when we get there.’’

I allowed myself to fall asleep, his presence being comforting enough for me to slowly relax, even though that seemed far-fetched just a few moments ago.

He drove carefully, trying not to disturb me.

After about 30 minutes, he pulled into the underground parking garage of his apartment building.

He turned off the engine, and looked at me, my eyes closed and a peaceful expression on my face.

‘‘Y/n, we’re here.’’ He said quietly, reaching out with his hand to gently shake my shoulder.

‘‘Wake up, Sweetheart.’’

Despite his efforts, I remained asleep, blissfully unaware of our arrival, going as far as to shake his touch away, grumbling in my sleep as I turned my back towards him, laying on my side on the car seat.

I wasn’t going to wake up any time soon.

Raising an eyebrow, a smirk played on Nanami's lips.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to unbuckle mine.

He got out of the car slowly, and headed over to where I was sitting, scooping me into his arms, cradling me against his chest.

‘‘Alright, sleepyhead. Let’s get you inside.’’ He pushed the car door closed with his knee, keeping me flush to his chest, his strong arms effortlessly supporting my weight.

Still deeply asleep, and unaware of the fact I was being carried, I unconsciously wrapped my arms around his neck, nestling up to him as he began walking.

A smile formed on his lips as he looked down at me on his lap.

‘‘That’s a good girl.’’

He carried me towards the elevator, pressing the button to the last floor.

The elevator door opened, and he walked down the hall to his apartment, balancing me in one arm while fishing his keys out of his pocket with the other.

With maximum precaution, he unlocked the door, stepping inside the apartment.

‘‘Let’s get you to bed.’’ He whispered, a warmth spreading through him.

He gently kicked the door closed with his heel, but he misjudged the force which caused it to slam shut with a loud thud.

I stirred in my sleep, my body jerking slightly at the loud noise.

My eyes slowly fluttered open, and I let out a yawn.

All was good until I realized I was in his arms, my eyes widening at the current situation.

‘‘Did I fall asleep?’’ Saying I was extremely flustered, was an understatement, my cheeks heating up instantly.

He let out a small chuckle.

‘‘You did. And you’ve been out like a light for the past hour.’’

‘‘I apologize that you had to carry me… You should’ve woken me up.’’ I uttered in a low voice, embarrassed.

‘‘I tried, Sweetheart.’’ I shivered at the pet name. ‘’It’s truly fine, y/n. I didn’t mind.’’ He smiled sweetly, and slowly began walking forward towards a door at the end of the hall.

‘‘Welcome to my home.’’ He says glancing around.

I rubbed the sleep off of my eyes, and mimicked his action, taking in the apartment's tasteful decor.

He was a wealthy man, I could immediately tell.

Surrounding me was a sleek, modern interior being illuminated by the soft glow of ambient lighting.

Polished marble floors stretched out beneath his feet, leading to a spacious living room adorned with contemporary art and luxurious furniture

Each step he took echoed slightly in the ample space.

I caught glimpses of the expensive items around us.

A crystal chandelier hanging elegantly in the center of the room.

A glass coffee table with a beautiful porcelain vase of what appeared to be fresh roses placed inside of it.

But the thing that caught my eye the most was a grand piano in the corner, its black lacquered surface glistening.

The walls were lined with various paintings, each piece more intricate than the other.

We moved deeper into the hallway, finally reaching the bedroom door at the end of it.

He pushed it open with his foot, revealing an equally luxurious bedroom with a large inviting bed right in the center of it, covered by plush, burgundy silk sheets.

The room was big but cozy, with the far left wall being covered by windows from the floor to the ceiling, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

He sat me down gently on the bed, the silk sheets feeling just as comfortable as they appeared to be.

‘‘Here we are.’’ He spoke in a gentle tone, the threatening man I had met just a few hours prior completely gone by then.

‘‘How are you feeling?’’ He inquired, looking me up and down.

‘‘I’m okay.’’ I answered quietly, scooting back against the dark mahogany bed frame.

He took advantage of the free space, and sat down at the edge of the bed, studying me with his eyes, his expression concerned.

‘‘Are you hungry? Thirsty? I can get you something to eat or drink if you want.’’ His voice was soft, and his eyes were kind, an extreme contrast to what I had seen on that same face before.

I smiled at him, genuinely appreciative at the care he was demonstrating.

I enjoyed it.

‘‘Could you please get me a glass of water?’’ I didn’t want to be a nuisance, so I settled on something simple.

‘‘Of course, y/n. I’ll be right back.’’

He stood up from the bed and left the room, returning a minute later holding a glass of water.

‘‘Here you go.’’ The corner of his lips curled upwards into a smile as he handed me the glass, and he watched me as I took it from him, taking a sip.

‘‘Thank you, Nanami.’’

A thought crept into my head.

I set the glass down on the nightstand, and looked down at my lap, fidgeting with the hair tie on my wrist.

‘‘How long do I have to stay here?’’ I asked, my voice unsteady and full of concern.

Nanami sat down on the bed next to me, once more, his expression now serious.

‘‘Until I say it’s safe for you to leave.’’ He stared deeply into my eyes, his gaze unwavering.

‘‘I can’t risk you getting hurt.’’ Those words struck something in me, my eyes widening at his remark.

I had never had someone so set on protecting me, and although this feeling was odd it wasn’t unwelcome.

He continued speaking, his eyes now locked on the carpet under his feet.

‘‘It could be a few days. A week. Months. Maybe longer. I don’t know yet.’’

I continued fidgeting nervously with the hair tie on my wrist.

‘‘But I’m gonna miss work… I’ll get fired…’’

He reached out, gently taking the hair tie from my wrist, setting it on the nightstand.

He placed his index finger below my chin, and tipped it upward making me face him, a soft smile on his lips.

‘‘You’re not going back to work anytime soon.’’ He lowered his hand, and clasped my hands between his, the warmth radiating from his palms soothing me in a way I had never experienced before.

‘‘You’re under my protection now. And I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight until I can guarantee you’re safe.’’

Lowering my gaze once more, I exhaled deeply through my nose.

‘‘I have bills to pay, I can’t just miss work whenever I please.’’ I shake my head, refusing to come to terms with the conditions he was setting.

‘‘If I simply don’t show up tomorrow, I’ll for sure get fired.’’ My pessimistic thoughts were interrupted by both of his hands letting go of mine, and coming up to cup my cheeks, forcing my eyes to stare into his once more.

‘‘I’ll take care of your bills, y/n. Don’t worry about that.’’ He said reassuringly, his thumb gently grazing over my cheek.

Despite the surprise, I couldn’t help but lean into his touch, my eyes closing for a split second before I quickly opened them back up, realizing what I was doing.

He chuckled at my reaction, but continued speaking,

‘‘And as for your work, I’ll make sure they know you’re not coming in for an indefinite amount of time. They won’t fire you.’’ As ridiculous as it sounded, he seemed so sure of what he was saying I had no other choice but to believe him. ‘‘I have my ways.’’ He finally added, a smile forming on his lips.

My eyes narrowed slightly at that unsettling response, but I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

I pulled my head away from his hands, his smile immediately fading as his lips parted in disappointment.

‘‘Why are you going through such lengths for me?’’ I inquired quietly, my head turning to the side.

‘‘I’m just a random girl that witnessed you murder a bunch of men with no remorse, why all of this?’’ I was grateful for his protection, and I couldn't deny that having this man so concerned about me felt good, but I was confused as to why it had been granted to me.

He placed his hand on my knee, slowly rubbing it up and down.

My breathing immediately failed me at that contact.

‘‘Because I said I would keep you safe, y/n. And i always keep my promises.’’ His eyes were burning into mine, an intensity to them like I had never witnessed.

‘‘Besides, you’re not just a random girl. You’re a girl who saw something she shouldn’t have. And I can’t let that slide.’’

I furrowed my brows, narrowing my gaze to go along with it.

‘‘So you’re just going to keep me locked in here forever to guarantee I stay quiet?’’ My voice had a slight tremble to it, but my tone grew more assertive.

‘‘Why don’t you just kill me like you did with those guys? No loose ends that way…’’ I trail off, exhaling deeply.

Nanami gasped quietly, his lips parted in awe and expression grew darker, almost as if he took offense to what I was suggesting.

‘‘Because I don’t kill innocent people, y/n. And you’re innocent.’’

He stood up from the bed, his large frame towering over me.

‘‘I gave you my word that I wouldn't hurt you. And I meant it.’’

He turned to leave, pausing at the door, his hand resting on the handle.

‘‘Get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning.’’

‘‘Nanami, wait!’’ I tried to stop him, but before I could finish speaking, he was already gone, closing the door behind him.

Maybe I could’ve worded things better.

I was left completely alone with my thoughts in his room.

I figured I should just let things settle down by themselves, so I threw my body back, letting my back fall against the mattress, my arms and legs sprawled out over it.

It was a huge bed, even laying perfectly in its middle with my arms and legs out, I couldn't reach its edges.

A yawn escapes my lips, and I look over at the digital clock sitting on top of the nightstand.

11:56 PM

I decided that getting some sleep might be a good idea.

But sleeping in someone's bed wearing outside clothes, didn’t seem very polite.

I got up from the bed, and made my way to the big closet in the corner of the bedroom.

When opening it, I was confronted with coat hangers, upon coat hangers of expensive and high quality two piece suits.

I opened up a drawer, and a simple black t-shirt popped into view.

I took it out and stripped off my clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on an armchair close to the closet.

Slipping the t-shirt through my head, I walked over to the full length mirror in the opposite corner, and I stared at myself for a few seconds.

The t-shirt looked more like a dress on me.

Although it might’ve fit him perfectly, it was extremely oversized over my smaller body.

‘‘How the hell did I end up here?’’ I muttered to myself in disbelief, at the sight of me standing in a random mens bedroom, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

I jumped in place, startled by the intrusion, and fumbled to cover my exposed legs.

‘‘What are you doing?’’ Nanami asked, his voice calm.

‘‘Nanami!’’ I exclaimed, embarrassed, reaching for the hem of the shirt to pull it down further.

‘‘I’m sorry for going through your closet, please don’t be mad, I wasn’t snooping or anything I just-’’

My rambling was interrupted by him, as he took a few steps forward until he was standing directly in front of me, his body towering over mine.

‘‘I didn’t want to bother you, I just didn’t want to get inside your bed wearing clothes from outside.’’

He stayed completely silent, just staring at me with a smirk on his lips.

I continued trying to justify myself, sounding more desperate for forgiveness, as if I had just committed the worst crime in the world.

‘‘I was just looking for something to sleep in and this t-shirt looked comf-’’

He pressed his index finger to my lips, effectively shutting me up, causing my breathing to hitch.

My gaze widened in shock, and I looked up at him with a panicked expression in my eyes.

The pounding in my chest was so strong, I felt as though my heart could jump out at any moment.

‘‘It's fine. You look good in my shirt.’’ I feel my cheeks immediately flush upon hearing the compliment.

His gaze was traveling up and down my body, and I didn't know how to feel about it.

He pulled his hand back, and just stood there staring at me, a fire burning in his eyes, drawing me in like a literal moth to a flame.

‘‘I should probably get in bed, it’s getting late.’’ I chuckle out nervously, clearly flustered.

He chuckled back, fully aware he was the reason for my flusteredness.

‘‘Before you go, I want you to do something.’’

He took a few steps back, the distance he created between us finally allowing me to breathe properly.

Stretching out his hand, he smiled affectionately.

‘‘Come with me.’’

Trusting him to guide me to whatever it was he wanted me to do, I placed my hand in his.

He wrapped his fingers around mine, and led me out the bedroom down the hall to the bathroom.

He flipped on the light, revealing a large luxurious bathroom with a walk in shower, and a claw foot tub.

His expression softened as he turned to me.

My mouth was agape, taking in my surroundings.

‘‘I want you to take a bath, y/n. You’ve been through a lot tonight.’’

He gestured towards the bathtub with his free hand, giving mine a gentle squeeze with the other before letting it go.

I was surprised at the gesture, but appreciative nonetheless.

In a silent thank you, I nodded my head and smiled at him as he headed towards the door.

‘‘I’ll leave you to it. Just call out if you need anything, alright?’’

I nodded my head once more, turning to the tub to reach for the faucet.

‘‘And y/n?’’

I turned my head to face him.

‘‘Try to relax. You’re safe here.’’ He threw me the warmest smile I had ever laid my eyes on.

Exuding so much affection and care I believed time stopped for a second as I stared at him.

I just stood there with my lips slightly parted, zoning out while he smiled at me.

I shook my head awake.

‘‘I will.’’ I said with a slight tremor to my voice.

Not out of fear.

But something else.

It had finally dawned on me that he was absolutely right.

I felt safe there.

I truly was safe there.

The door to the bathroom closed, and with it I let out a huge breath, one I didn't even realize I was holding.

Trying to shake away the odd feeling brewing in my chest, I turned on the faucet, letting the tub quickly fill up with warm water.

After putting some bubble soap in the tub, I stripped off his black t-shirt, and my underwear.

I put my hair up, and slid inside of the tub.

The water was the perfect temperature, and I let out a content sigh as it enveloped me in its warmness, washing away any remnants of the stress I experienced earlier.

I closed my eyes, and just layed in the tub for a while, basking in the vanilla scent emanating from the water, and letting its warm feel relax every muscle in my body.

As soon as my eyes were closed, I was flooded with images of Nanami coursing through my brain.

I was reliving how he carried me to his bed, how his hands felt gripping my body, how much heat was radiating off of him, how intoxicatingly alluring his cologne was, how… attractive he was.

No.

I opened my eyes back up, and splashed my face with water, as if it were capable of cleansing my mind of those thoughts.

Hopping out of the tub, I reached for a towel to dry off.

Being the clutz idiot I was, I knocked over a bunch of toiletries on the cabinet trying to grab it.

‘‘Shit.’’ I muttered, scrambling to wrap the towel around my body, and to grab everything that fell to the ground.

Not even 10 seconds later, there was a knock at the door.

‘‘Y/n? Are you okay in there?’’

‘‘Y-Yes, all good!’’ I said nervously, putting everything back where it originally was.

I opened the bathroom door, and was confronted by Nanami leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

He didn’t have his suit jacket anymore, and his sleeves were rolled up, his toned arms on full display.

Jesus Christ, that man was immaculate.

He looked me up and down and swallowed hard, studying my frame.

‘‘Do you need anything? A change of clothes, maybe?’’ His stare was so intense, I couldn't avert my gaze from it.

And his voice was slightly hoarse.

As if somehow, seeing me like this was also affecting him in a way.

‘‘I have those, thank you.’’ Pointing towards the black tshirt, my voice cracked a little as I spoke out, evidence of my ever growing turmoil.

I felt my insides shiver at his reaction, feeling somewhat satisfied at how I was making him feel.

Also glad I wasn't the only one having strange thoughts.

I grabbed the clothes, and walked past him to his bedroom, taking a deep breath.

I had just met this man, but I simply couldn't deny how attracted to him I was starting to feel.

‘‘I’ll be in the guest room down the hall, if you need anything. Don’t hesitate.’’

My chest filled with warmth once more, still in disbelief as to how caring he was.

It made me feel safe.

Made me feel loved.

‘‘Goodnight, Nanami.’’ I whispered gingerly, waving from the door to the bedroom before closing it.

I exhaled profoundly following it up with some deep breaths to calm myself, the tension of that short interaction making my legs slightly tremble.

I let the towel go from my body, standing naked in the middle of the room just reflecting on the day's events.

I was extremely puzzled on how I ended up in that situation, but I wasn't complaining.

After all, no one had ever treated me with the level of care, thoughtfulness and concern he had.

I put my underwear back on, and slipped the black t-shirt over my head, it’s oversized fit now even more soothing than before.

The fact that it belonged to Nanami, for some reason, added another layer of comfort to it, almost as if he was there in the room with me.

‘‘I could get used to this.’’ The thought rolled out from my lips without me even realizing it.

I shook my head at what had just popped up in my brain, and quickly got in bed, covering my body with the soft silk sheet adorning his bed, trying to escape these ideas.

I placed my head over the pillow.

It smelled like his cologne.

Who was I kidding.

Truth was, I wished he was there in the room with me.

I thought about how his arms would feel around mine.

How his body would feel pressed against mine as we slept next to each other.

How his hands would feel trailing over my breasts, and exploring every inch of my body.

I felt my heartbeat increase inside my chest, my breathing growing erratic and my legs pressed together unconsciously, trying to deter the growing arousal forming between them.

I closed my eyes, expecting sleep to get me out of this situation.

In the midst of my futile attempts to fall asleep, I heard the door to my bedroom slowly open.

I remained perfectly still, believing facing Nanami in this state would only be embarrassing.

His footsteps grew closer, and I sensed his presence looming over me.

I felt the mattress dip next to me.

He sat down?

‘‘Y/n?’’ I hear him whisper quietly.

Silence.

I tried my best to pretend like I was asleep, hoping he would just leave the room.

I couldn’t bear to be this close to him, my heart was beating so fast it felt like I was about to have a heart attack.

I felt his hand rest on my head.

He started moving it back and forth, in a loving way.

What was he doing? And why was he doing it? I remained motionless, as he patted my head.

‘‘I shouldn’t be here.’’ I heard him whisper, probably assuming I wouldn't be able to hear it due to being asleep.

Except I wasn't asleep.

I was fully awake.

‘‘But I can’t seem to stay away.’’ He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and resumed the head patting.

‘‘You’re like a magnet, pulling me in.’’

Little did he know, the feeling was mutual.

I just didn’t know how to approach it, or how to make it known.

I was never good with words.

Turning on my best acting skills, I fluttered my eyes open.

‘‘Nanami?’’ I asked in a fake sleepy voice with semi open eyes. ‘‘Everything okay?’’

He jolted his hand away, his expression panicked.

‘‘Go back to sleep, y/n. I just wanted to check on you.’’ Despite the panic in his face, his voice sounded calm.

The weight in the mattress shifted, and I watched him as he got up from the bed.

‘‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’’

He started walking towards the door.

I desperately wanted him to stay.

Desperately wanted him to know I needed to be around him as much as he needed to be around me.

‘‘Don’t leave.’’ I called out with a shaky voice.

He turned around, and focused his gaze on me, a confused look on his face.

I slowly tapped the spot next to me on the bed, praying to god the gesture would be enough to make him understand I wanted him laying next to me.

The thought of having to vocalize that idea was making me extremely nervous for some reason.

He looked at the spot next to me, then back at me.

He hesitated for a moment, before kicking off his shoes and buttoning off his shirt, lying down next to me.

Leaving some space between us.

So close, and yet, so, so far.

I couldn’t take it anymore, I needed to feel his body against mine again.

I scooted over closer to him, close enough that I was now nestled up to him, my body pressed against his, my head resting over his arm.

I heard a groan escape his lips, most likely not expecting this sudden move.

Not even I was expecting to be this bold, but I couldn’t handle it.

He looked down at me, and wrapped his arm around my body, pulling me closer, his hand resting on my hip.

His touch felt like electricity.

I knew I should have moved way from him, put some distance between us.

But I couldn’t.

Not when it felt that good.

Not when it felt that right, in his arms.

I perked my head up, resting my eyes on his, inadvertently flickering my gaze down to his lips.

I wanted to lean over and kiss him, so badly.

‘‘You’re making it really hard for me to resist you, y/n.’’ He confessed, his voice husky.

My lips parted by themselves, just as if they had gained a mind of their own, our eyes locked on one another.

His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb grazing lightly across my bottom lip.

‘‘Can I kiss you, y/n?’’

Instead of giving him an answer I leaned forward, pressing my lips softly against his.

It was a gentle kiss, almost exploratory, like I was testing the waters.

He immediately responded by kissing me back passionately, letting out a low moan, his tongue darting out to meet mine.

He kissed me hungrily, his hand coming up to tangle in my hair.

He rolled over, pinning me down beneath him, breaking the kiss only to trail his soft lips down my neck, licking and sucking at the skin.

‘‘Do you have any idea what you do to me, y/n?’’ He breathed out between kisses to my neck. "How badly I want you?’’

His hand slipped underneath my t-shirt, cupping my breast, his thumb circling over my nipple.

I gasped softly at the sensation, arching my back at his touch, feeling my nipples harden almost instantly.

‘‘Y-yes.’’ I managed to squeak out, my mind completely foggy with lust.

I inched my body upwards, closer to his touch, wanting more contact, needing to feel more of him.

His touch ignited a burning sensation inside of me, and I found myself craving more of it.

I could feel his erection pressed against my thigh, and I let out a shuddering breath at the realization of how turned on he was.

Of how hard he was because of me.

‘‘Kiss me, Nanami. Please.’’ I whimpered softly, eager for more.

His lips ghosted over mine, his voice low, like music to my ears.

"I’ll give you more than that.’’ He murmured against my lips, moving the hand circling my nipple lower, sliding it under my already soaked underwear.

I let out a soft moan as his fingers made contact with my wetness.

‘‘So responsive. Such a good girl.’’

He slid a finger inside me, pumping in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit.

My moans grew louder, encouraging him to keep going and not to stop.

He grinned against my mouth, adding another finger.

‘‘Just like that, Sweetheart, you’re taking my fingers so well.’’ He rasped, increasing the speed of his thrusts, curling his fingers up to hit that sweet spot inside.

My hips moved rhythmically against his hand, desperately seeking release, crying out in pleasure.

He captured my cries with his mouth, kissing me intensely, feeling me tightening around his fingers, my orgasm building.

‘‘That’s it, y/n. Come for me.’’ He commanded, his voice thick with arousal.

He increased the pace of his fingers, fucking me harder, deeper, my walls clenching around him, my breaths becoming shallow pants.

‘‘Oh god, Nanami’’. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders, as my climax crashed over me.

He continued to move his fingers in and out of me until my body stopped trembling.

Then he pulled them out, bringing them up to his mouth, sucking my juices clean.

He leaned over, capturing my mouth once again.

I could taste myself on him, salty and sweet, and it sent a jolt of electricity through me.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against mine, both of us breathing heavily.

He looked into my eyes, his pupils dilated with desire.

‘‘I need to be inside you, Sweetheart. Now.’’ He reached for his belt, undoing it quickly, along with his pants, freeing his hardness.

He stroked it a couple of times, his gaze locked with mine.

I nodded eagerly, my core throbbing in anticipation of having him inside of me.

I spread my legs wider, welcoming him, and my hands grabbed onto his shoulders, pulling him closer.

‘‘Please, Nanami,’’ I begged, desperate to surround him.

He positioned himself between my legs, teasing my entrance with the head of his length.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine in a searing kiss as he thrust into me, filling me completely.

We both moaned into eachothers mouths, the sensation overwhelming.

He began to move, slowly at first, allowing me to adjust to his size.

‘‘Are you okay?’’ He inquired, concern etched on his face.

I nodded, wrapping my legs around him, urging him to continue.

‘‘Yes, I’m fine’’ I gasped between breaths, my head thrown back and my nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust. "Please, don’t stop.’’

He began to fasten his pace, each movement accompanied by a slapping sound.

‘‘God, you feel so good, y/n.’’ He grunted, his voice thick with lust.

He reached down, his fingers tightly gripping my hips, holding me in place while he nibbled on my neck, his teeth leaving marks as he moved in and out of me, setting a rhythm that had me moaning his name, begging for more.

His thrusts became quicker, his breathing hoarse.

He lowered his hand between my legs, and began rubbing my clit in circles, his thumb pressing down with just the right amount of pressure.

His thumb worked in perfect rhythm with his movements, the combination of the two setting off a fire inside of me, the heat building up with each of his strokes.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

My forehead was resting against his, my eyes fixed on his, silently pleading for more, for him to take me harder, to make me his completely.

His other hand slid up to cradle my head, holding me in place as he pressed his lips against mine.

‘‘You’re so wet for me.’’ He growled between kisses, his voice a low rumble.

The sensation of his cock filling me completely, coupled with the way his thumb was rubbing against my clit was almost too much to handle.

I arched my back upwards, offering myself to him, my hips bucking with more urgency.

‘‘I want to feel you come for me again.’’ He demanded, his voice dripping with need.

I nodded, my moans growing louder, my body trembling.

I could feel it building up quickly, that familiar tension coiling low in my belly.

His thrusts and fingers worked in perfect unison, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

My breaths came in pants, my legs began to spasm slightly, signaling my impending climax.

‘‘That’s it, y/n. Let go for me.’’ The guttural sound of his voice was the catalyst for my release, as I felt my orgasm rip through me once again, my body shaking with pleasure.

He watched me, never letting his movements falter, as they became more erratic.

His grip around my hair tightened, his other hand still massaging my clit as he claimed my mouth for his own, his kisses messy and rough, a testament to how close to the edge he really was.

‘‘Fuck, I’m so close Sweetheart.’’ He groaned, a droplet of sweat falling down from a blond lock dangling from his forehead onto my cheek.

He pulled out for a moment, positioning himself at my entrance once more, his erection glistening with my juices.

He thrust back into me, his grip on my hips tightening as he began to move, his strokes slower but full of intensity.

‘‘Look at me’’ He commanded, lifting my chin up with his finger. "I want you to look at me as I come inside of you.’’

I obeyed, my eyes meeting his, dark and intense as he continued to thrust into me.

I could see the raw desire and need in his gaze.

He was close, his breaths coming in uneven pants, his grip on my hips tense, but gentle.

‘‘Come on, y/n, look at me.’’ He traced my bottom lip with his thumb before slowly placing it inside of my mouth. "I want to see those beautiful eyes of yours when I claim you completely.’’

I couldn't even think to look away, feeling vulnerable yet cherished in his gaze.

My body quivered with each thrust, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind hazy with lust.

I could feel his control slipping and the tension in his muscles as he fought to hold on, but the moment was too intense to resist.

His face was contorted in pleasure, his jaw clenched tight as his eyes pierced into mine.

Nanami’s eyes fluttered shut, leaning down he captured my lips in a final passionate kiss as I felt his body shudder from his climax, filling me up completely with his seed, his cock pulsing inside of me.

He let out a low growl, his breathing heavy and his face flushed with exhaustion.

He collapsed on top of me, his body draped over mine, his face buried in the crook of my neck, where he planted soft kisses.

His fingers trailed down my arm, his thumb rubbing circles on my skin.

I could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, against my chest as he laid over it.

His breathing slowly regained its usual rhythm, his body still shuddering from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at me with a newfound tenderness.

‘‘Are you alright?’’ He asked, his voice a gentle murmur against my skin.

He slowly began to pull out of me, his gaze never leaving mine.

He trailed a finger over my cheek, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

‘‘You’re beautiful.’’ He whispered, his thumb brushing against my lips before moving to cup my face gently.

His words left me flustered and a warmth I’d never experienced before began to spread through my chest.

He shifted from his position, laying down behind me, pulling me close.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, his body warm against mine.

His arm around me felt comforting, protective, like nothing could ever harm me, and I found myself slowly drifting off to sleep.

His fingers idly traced shapes on my hip, the warmness coming from his body enveloping me in a soothing embrace.

In the dim light of the room, we both laid there, our breathing slowly evening out, the tension from earlier replaced by a peaceful silence and a newfound sense of connection that seemed to pull us even closer together.

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami smut #kento nanami #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #nanami x y/n #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk kento #jujutsu smut #jujutsu kaisen

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princessbrunette · 11 months

Note

hyperfem! reader w jj pleaseee

writing them in lil bullet points cos it’s easier to format hehehee 🎀

• swatching makeup on his arm in the store when you’re tryna find the right shade and he’s just all like “baby. how do you know i’m not like — super allergic to the ingredients in this thing. do you know how many chemicals go into makeu- infact, lemme see- no i’ll give it back i just wanna read what it says— trust me! i saw this video on instagram reels—” and he’s fighting the foundation bottle out of your hand so he can read the small print on the back listing the ingredients even though he has no idea what he’s talking about.

• he’s got beef with the plushies on your bed. unfortunately. “so this is the guy you get all cozy with when i’m not here?” he’s laying on his back on your pink frilly bedsheets tossing the plushie between his hands like a football. “guy? jayje that’s obviously hello kitty.” you pout, kneeling on the bed to take her away. when you place her back on the sheets he catches your wrists and pulls you down so that you fall on top of him with a quiet yelp. “agh, there you are. get in here.” he’s grinning, wriggling to make space for you.

• enticing you into joining the group on their wild pogue adventures. “babe, i literally got you a pink life jacket so you can come out with us on the boat— don’t make that face at me.” he standing on the pier clutching the neon pink life jacket in one hand, the rest of the pogues waiting on the boat, staring at you happy as clams with hopeful grins. “jj i don’t need a life jacket.” you frown, letting him help you up onto the pier by the hand. “uh— yes y’do. i’m dragging you into our shit, i’m gonna make sure you’re safe alright? now come here.” he’s manhandling you in that thoughtless jj way so he can fasten your life jacket on you even though no one else is wearing one. princess treatment, of course.

• when you and the pogues inevitably get yourself into shit, running from sirens down a street of a town you’ve never visit before, jj is constantly pulling you along and making sure you don’t fall behind. “come on baby, move your ass!” he yells, and you rip yourself free of his grasp when you come across a puddle— the rest of the groups continuing through, splashing across to the other side. “jj, these are my favourite shoes!” you whine. he slams to a halt, opening his mouth to argue but seeing the police car round the corner before he can. he simply grabs you and either throws you over his shoulder and carries on running (hes a strong boy) or straight up yanks the shoes off his feet and puts them on your feet as fast as humanely possible.

• forever fascinated by the lengths you go to in your beauty routines. enjoys watching you carefully apply a face mask in the mirror whilst he sits on your bed, eyes jumping around to the girly decor in your room. you’re nothing like him, and he wonders sometimes what you even see in him. his hands are rough from ropes and climbing things he shouldn’t, his hair is often matted and unclean from the ocean, whilst you were soft all over and always smelling like a bakery. that not to say you didn’t try and involve him, atleast smearing spf on his face whilst sat on the boat together, batting away his fussy hands. “jj, you’re in the sun just unprotected all day… y’gonna age like milk.” you mutter, rubbing it into his cheek as he squints one eye closed. “i’m white n’blonde. you can’t fight the inevitable, babe.” he moves his face away, wiping his cheek on the back of his hand.

• sometimes lets you paint his nails if he’s bored and wants an excuse to watch you close up, all cute and concentrated, his smile growing even when you tsk at him, lips pouted and brows creased. “you moved!” you accuse quietly, grabbing his hand and holding it still. he’s not looking at his nails, hell— he couldn’t even tell you what colour they’re being painted, staring at your pretty face instead. “my bad, gorgeous.” he smirks, watching the way your eyes flick up to his, blinking away the flustered feeling.

• like i said, princess treatment. makes you cream around his fingers, hand stuffed into the waistband of your delicate pink panties whilst he paws greedily at your tit. “whats a pretty girl like you doin’ with me huh? jesus, you cum so much baby. fuckin’ love it.” he whispers, dick hard against your thigh as you whine.

• loves when you initiate, watching JJ sat at a table, maps and other crumpled up artefacts you didn’t understand scattered about as he spins his cap around to face backwards, concentrated and serious as he reads. you know it’s important to him, but he’s been at it all day and there comes a point where you just want his attention again. which of course, is how you end up straddling one of his thighs, panting and whimpering into his neck as he tries to concentrate on the maps and not your grinding on him. “jayge, just miss you…” you mewl nonsensically, tired and infuriatingly horny on his lap. he cups your lower back, pressing a distracted kiss to your temple (with a raging hard on) “doin’ good, baby. lemme finish this up n’im all yours, needy girl.”

• thinks you look adorable leaving lipstick/lipgloss prints on his cock. he strokes your head with a lazy smirk, watching your brows furrow slightly as you bury your kissy face against his shaft, pulling back to admire your work. “pretty.” you mumble to yourself and he chuckles. “you’re damn right.”

• notices when there’s something new about you. new hairstyle? he’s approaching you and holding you gently by the face so he can get a proper look at you. new dress? best believe you’re hearing “alright, do a spin for papa J, that’s it pretty lady.” with that shit eating grin of his. he’s just that attentive.

#jj maybank prompt #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut

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snowvies · 6 months

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐝

jonathan byers x fem!reader

summary: things get heated while developing pictures with jonathan

cw: smut, p in v, whiny jonathan.

"now we just wait for them to..um..develop" jonathan whispers, placing the picture in the pool of chemicals

you nod even though you're standing behind him, out of sight. the blood red bulb dangling above your head buzzes as jonathan stands from his hunched position and sighs.

"it'll take 10-15 minutes. give or take" he gives a crooked smile before turning around and dipping more photos in

"so...how long have you been into photography?" you purse your lips slowly

"uh, a while...I've always liked to observe people" he answers before shaking his head and turning to you, embarrassment engulfing his frame

"sorry that sounds really weird" he rubs his hair to keep his hands busy as you smile softly up at him

"no, I completely get it...you're good ya'know" you grin, nodding to his developed work clipped on the wall

he stares at his feet while his face breaks up into a smile, maybe its because this rooms literally bright red but you could have sworn you saw blush creep up from his neck. he mutters a quick 'thank you' before moving back to his work

you and jonathan have been going out for a few weeks. shy girl meets shy boy when she had to bring his little brother home after he got a flat tire on his bike when having a playdate with her little brother. you saw him at school before but you were way too nervous to go say hi ever...turns out he felt the same way.

"I didn't know our school even had this" you mumbled, looking around the little closet, he shrugged and absentmindedly waved his hand over his shoulder

"no one really uses it..."

you nodded, fingers traced the drawers before jonathan called you over to show you a few of the photos that were ready

"so this is some random pond near my house..." he spoke while clipping the dripping photo onto the string

"aaaand...this is you" he mumbled sheepishly while clipping a photo of you smiling, he insisted on taking one on your first date.

you quickly turned jonathan toward you as you kissed him softly

"thank you...they're amazing!" you grinned, his pupils filling out his iris as he traced his sight over your features. you felt hot once you realized how close you really were with him

"jonathan?" you whispered

"mhm"

"you said no one really comes in here...right?" you spoke carefully and he nodded, understanding your undertones and you both softly swayed into one and other

his lips caught yours and he backed you to the wall, you gasped at his sudden eagerness as a loose hand locked the door

"you sure? like really sure?" he slurred between kisses and you just said yes yes yes

you tore your top off as his was already missing, tugging his belt off while you unclasped your bra

now just left in both your underwear you panted into each others mouths, his hands traced down your back and hooked your panties before ripping them down. you felt exposed but so safe with him as his dick slapped against his stomach and rubbed on your pussy

he sank into you, kissing you slowly with each inch before being fully connected. you felt the burn of the stretch, but once he started moving, it was just pleasure.

his hips slapped against yours as he dug his face into your shoulder, whining softly while peppering kissing on your neck

your hands wrapped around his back as you clung to him with each whimper that came from him the wetter you felt, squeezing around him tighter as he sped his motions up

he moved up to grab your cheeks and smush a kiss while his thrusts fastened. you shook as you came around him, squeezing him incredibly tight as he cried out before coming in you.

you both stood there, shaky. panting slowly as you both came down from your highs when he looked over to the bowls and equipment

"...they're developed...now"

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers smut #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers fanart #jonathan byers x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #jonathon byers #jonathan stranger things

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farfromstrange · 8 months

Text

Unicorns Need Love Too | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Your hormones make existing a living hell sometimes. Thankfully, Matt is there to help

Warnings: Fluff, self-indulgent, suggestive language, heavy allusions to smut (MINORS DNI), attempt at humor, not proof-read

Word Count: 2k

A/n: This is a brain fart because I, myself, have a pimple in the middle of my forehead and I feel like a fucking unicorn. I don't even know if it's any good. Just have at it & enjoy!

The few weeks leading up to your period are always the most chaotic and the most draining, but over the years, you have gotten used to only having a few days out of four weeks every month where you feel somewhat normal.

The days between ovulation and the actual start of a new period are probably the worst though—together with the week of hell that follows, of course.

Matt loves it when you ovulate. Your boyfriend’s heightened senses make it possible for him to smell the change in your pheromones, and they drive him borderline insane. It doesn’t help that you always seem to need him more than air when you’re in that fertile window of your cycle, and even though you’re not interested in having a family, he always has to fill you to the brim until you’re overflowing with his cum. Alone the thought of that makes his cock painfully hard.

Unfortunately, though, your body’s desperate need for pleasure isn’t the only side of you that comes out during that week. Every month, Matt discovers something new about you. Every month, he finds something new to love, and he finds strange quirks of yours that may seem odd to him at first, but he still adores them as much as he adores the rest of you.

“Why does it smell like a chemical plant here?” He pokes his head into the bathroom, his chiseled body dressed in the red leather of his Daredevil suit, minus the cowl and his gloves.

You turn to him from the sink. Your eyes roam over his body before they land on his face, meeting his unfocused gaze. “It’s my skincare,” you answer.

What did he think you were doing? Building a chemical weapon? Cooking meth? He would have been able to smell that much more clearly than your skincare products.

“What are you using?” Matt asks, leaning against the doorframe in all his glory as he slides those beautifully thick fingers of his into his leather gloves.

Your eyebrow quips. “Salicylic acid. Why?”

The way he looks at you, forehead slightly wrinkled as he frowns, reminds you of a concerned parent when their child has found a sharp object to play with.

“That smells dangerous.”

You shrug, continuing to rub the solution into your skin. “It pulls the gunk out of my pores.”

“And that works?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he says. His expression remains wary. “Just don’t inhale it.”

“Matt, this isn’t the first time I’ve used it. I’ve had acne since I was a teenager,” you remind him.

A small smile plays on his lips, mirroring yours. “I know. Just want you to be careful, that's all.”

You put the tube down, turning your whole body to him. “I have never heard of death by skincare,” you say, “but I’ll be careful. Promise.”

The answer, albeit a bit sarcastic, satisfies him. Matt fastens his gloves with a happy little nod. “Thank you. I’ll, uh, be back in a few hours,” he says, coming over to press a kiss to the top of your head, his hand cradling the back of it. “Don’t wait up. You’re drained.”

You open your mouth to protest, “I can wait for you.”

“Not at this point of your cycle. You’re going to be cranky tomorrow.”

You’re aware that Matt knows your body inside and out. He knows you better than you could ever know yourself. He can sense things that even you can’t pick up on. At first, it was something you had to get used to, but you have grown accustomed to his heightened senses and the perks they bring with them.

Tipping your chin in his direction, you retort, “I’m not sure if I should take offense to that.”

“Don’t,” Matt says nonchalantly. “If I had an organ lose its shit every month because it wants to be fertilized, putting you through the works to prepare you for it, and then cause me to bleed and cramp uncontrollably for a week straight as revenge when I refuse to let a myriad of sperm play tag you’re it inside me, I’d get cranky too.”

That description sounds almost too perfect. You lean forward to capture his plump lips in another passionate kiss. “Fair point. Be safe, please.”

“Always.”

“That’s a lie,” you say.

“I promise, I’ll be safe.”

“That’s better.”

He strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Love you,” he says, and he kisses you one last time.

Whenever he goes out at night, Matt kisses you as if you are never going to see him again. It’s a possibility you have often cried over. You’ve obsessed over everything that could go wrong.

He has had way too many close calls for you to take anything he does for granted, and when he kisses you like that, like he is afraid of losing you as well, you at least know that he will try his everything to make it back to you in one piece—even if it’s a mangled piece.

“I love you too,” you murmur.

That’s another thing about his kisses: they have the ability to render you speechless.

A slight gust of wind brushes through your hair when the door to the rooftop exit opens, and when you open your eyes, Matt is gone. The living room is lulled in darkness. 10:13 pm. You start counting down the hours, praying once again to all Gods above that he will be okay tonight.

• • •

When Matt comes home a few hours later, he finds you passed out on your shared bed, your limbs tangled in the silk sheets that smell of him and you, and even more you.

He isn’t injured, more ramped up with adrenaline than anything, but he doesn’t want to disturb your peaceful slumber, so he settles down on the couch instead. It doesn’t take long for the night to crash into him, and he collapses. He doesn’t even have it in him to make it back to bed.

You wake up in a cold sweat when your alarm goes off the next morning, but the open bedroom door and Matt’s snoring figure on the couch tell you that he is alive and well. That’s a good sign. If he’s asleep and not injured, you have nothing to worry about.

That is what you think until you see your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Matt wakes to the sound of a loud groan. Suddenly awake and alert, he takes a look around the apartment. Nothing is out of place, except—you’re missing.

He gets up and knocks on the bathroom door. It’s locked. “Sweetheart,” he calls out softly. “You okay in there? Can you open the door?”

“No,” you reply. Your voice is slightly muffled through the wood, but he can still hear your labored breathing and your elevated heartbeat loud and clear.

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because I look hideous.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “I don’t know if you‘ve heard, but I’m blind.”

You groan again, more defeated this time. You seem to plop down on the edge of the bathtub. “Oh, shut up!” you snap. “This is as much a visual as it is a textural issue.”

“As in what? You’ve grown fur and a tail overnight?” Matt can’t help but muse a little. “Because even if you turned into a wolf or a worm, I would still love you. You know that.”

“Matt, this isn’t funny. My acne is escalating.”

Now you sound sad, and he starts feeling bad.

He touches his palm against the door. “But you used those acids last night,” his words land much softer. “I thought they were supposed to help with your acne.”

“Apparently fucking not ‘cause my fertile window is pretty much still wide open, and I think I felt myself ovulate this morning.”

“Oh. Well, it’s just some pimples, sweetheart. It’s not the end of the world.”

Matt realizes too late that he may have chosen his words poorly. You take a deep breath, and for a moment he believes you’re just going to say, but then you shout at him, “EASY OF YOU TO SAY, MISTER I-ALWAYS-HAVE-FLAWLESS-SKIN!”

He winces, dropping his forehead next to his palm. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What can I do?” he asks. “Get you a paper bag?”

You must have smoke coming out of your ears by now. “Matthew Michael Murdock, I swear to God–”

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. I’m just trying to cheer you up.” He knocks again. “Can you please let me in? I want to hug you. You sound sad.”

A pregnant pause follows. The silence settles deep into his bones. He can still hear your heartbeat, but he can’t judge what you’re thinking. Then, he hears your bare feet pat against the floor. The lock clicks, and you finally open the door.

“I look like the last fucking unicorn, Matt,” you say. “I’m an endangered species.”

Matt’s arms find your waist, and he pulls you against him. You don’t protest. “You don’t feel like a unicorn. You don’t even have the body of a horse.”

The beginning of a smile that was growing on your face vanishes within seconds, and you stare up at him. He can feel your gaze burning through his skull, a look of utter astonishment on your face. That is how he imagines you, anyway.

“Just a pimple on your forehead,” he adds because he realizes his words are failing to get his point across in all possible ways.

You bury your face in his chest. “Oh, fuck off!”

“What? Pimples are natural and nothing to be ashamed of, especially not when your body is full of hormones that are making your day a living hell.”

“I feel ashamed because I look like a very fucking ugly unicorn!”

“You’re not ugly,” he insists, patiently so, knowing that this is just another side of you that comes out when you’re overwhelmed by the sheer force of your hormonal cycle. “If anything,” Matt says, “you’re a cute unicorn.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m a pissed-off unicorn who’s ovulating, which makes her sad and horny with a fucking stuffed and inflamed pore on her freaking forehead!”

“I can do something about the horniness, but I can’t make the pimple go away. I’m sorry.”

“UGH!” For a moment, he thinks you’re going to hit his chest with your balled fist, but instead, you tangle your fingers in his shirt.

He rubs his large hand along your spine. “Come here.” Almost naturally, his nose buries itself in your hair. “Do you have those patch thingies you always use when you break out?” he asks.

“I ran out,” you say.

“Should I get them for you on my way home from work?”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he says.

Your smile is unmistakable. “I want the heart-shaped ones.”

“Because they make you feel cute?”

“Yeah.”

Matt chuckles anew. “Okay. I’ll get you those.”

“Thank you.” Sniff.

He tilts his head to the side. “Did you just sniff me?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you shamelessly admit as you suck in a breath again, inhaling his distinctive scent. “You smell good.”

“I didn’t even shower last night. I passed out on the couch.”

“Oh God, that makes it worse!” You shove him away. “I’m getting turned on by the smell of your sweat.”

His giggles turn into laughter. “How about I shower first and then you can sniff me again?” Matt opens his arms as if he just made an offer you couldn’t possibly refuse.

But you can. Because Matt showering and washing the scent of danger off his beautiful skin is the last thing you want, and if your body is satisfied, maybe the storm in your mind will finally calm down, too.

You stop him. “No. Don’t shower.”

“No?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No,” you say. “You said you can help me with my horniness, right? That was part of the deal?”

The brown of his irises gets overtaken by the black of his pupils. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Uh-huh. So, no shower. And I could really use a hand. Or two. And quite possibly your cock, too.”

Matt smirks. “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he purrs. “I’m all yours.”

You’re about to kiss him when you realize, “The unicorn pimple–”

“Don’t care. I've heard somewhere that unicorns need love too.” He cradles your face in his hands. “And I intend to do that shamelessly for the next hour and a half.”

The bathroom door falls closed behind the two of you as he uses his strength to guide you back inside, and a kiss is all it takes for you to shut up and surrender yourself to him completely.

Unicorn pimple be damned!

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fixdex-fastening-technology · 10 months

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midseo · 1 year

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ramnathsons · 4 months

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fatgumsurpremacy-remastered · 8 months

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Vox making a sinner his housespouse Drabble

Tw: (50’s) Period typical views of the nuclear family, entrapment, manipulation, gaslighting nuclear “family”, threats of violence, noncon touching

@omniuravity

I can just imagine the look on his face one day when you walk into his establishment looking for directions to where you’re supposed to go. A new sinner, someone just trying to pull themselves up as quick as possible.

And so polite too!

He’d charm you with a welcoming air and a quick gesture into his office, trying to offer you jobs in tv while you turn each one.

Smart.

When you highlight some of your skills he feels a course of electricity jolt through him, something more human than hid metal, and wired bodies.

“Have you thought of maid services?”

It was the first thought to come to his mind and one he noticed you cringed at, but shrugged towards.

“What could it hurt?”

A grin grew up his face and for the first few months he had a car driving you from where ever you’d need to go, so long as you offered him company at the end of the day. A small chat in his office turned to nights at an old fashioned drive through, turned into dances under the darkest part of the pride ring.

Yet he could tell you weren’t impressed, so he broadcast you on television, your services, your personality, making offhanded remarks about how perfect your body was. All things you’d oullined you didn’t want when you began your services. All things he promised he wouldn’t do, so when you saw a 50’s cartoon drawing of yourself thrown up on screens you were naturally livid.

Bringing it up to Vox you made sure to outline your disappointment, and Vox seethed internally. He had you walking to your jobs that week before he called you one morning, your apartment exploding in both your tv, watch, and phone ringing.

“Vox?”

“Heyyy doll! Nice to hear from you- hey, I need a small favor if you can manage it?”

You bit your lip in worry, hoping he wasn’t angry enough to hurt you.

“Yeah what-“

“How about now!” He asked cheerfully, sounding a bit pressed on time, a tad unhinged. And underlay stood a more true sound.

“Im outside already.”

You grumbled a small yes before he ended the call with a giddy chuckle, waiting for you to get your rear outside. When you stepped out the souped up company car that he usually had driven for you was nowhere to be seen. Instead- in its place a bright blue Buick limited, trimmed with a shiny red, windows finished with a shiny white. His face grined out the main window, sharp, flat teeth blinking oddly in the red lights of hell.

“Jump on in!” He exclaimed- patting the white leather seats, and barely waiting for you to take a seat before snapping you into his can, fastening the two seatbelts wicked tight and hellblazing down the highway,

Any questions asked about where you were going were met with a flippant disregard and a question about how you would design a wedding.

It wasn’t until you met a bright blue skyline with fake ass clouds that you even attempted to leave the car, trying to pry the handles off before the handle fizzeled out of existence and about a hundred people came out like clockwork to water their brightly colored flowers and fake ground.

You felt like you were on the brink of a panic before the car stopped entirely, Vox zipping through the air to pull you up and out of the car into a pretty baby blue house, with a white picket fence and some off pink curtains.

It of course would get some taking used to as Vox replayed an existence he’d never lived through to a snapping audience but after months of him refusing to feed you and your stomach finally forcing you to move you knew it was time.

And so every question you’d asked about the friends you made were turned against you.

“Oh that’s nothing to worry about honey, they’ve all graduated and had children by now…”

And you were expected to believe that.

You were expected to believe when those seem people were threatened on the knives where Vox had to lock the chemicals up and send the knives away. Expected to believe that when you begged the other hellions on the street to help you and they tied you down until Vox came back around at the end of the day.

So it’d be easier now for him to keep you, trace a hand across your collarbones and whisper violence into your ear as you twitched away, constrained by a pure white, frilly set of handcuffs. Begging him to let you leave until the day the two of you broke during a fight, when he sputtered out an agictated ‘I hate you!’

Before you broke into hysterical laughter, sobbing and chuckling like mad at his feet while he tried to pick you up. Only able to get as far as an inch off the ground before he brought a pillow and blanket into the kitchen to let you rest out.

“All couples have their issues honey…”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Dinner is a surprise tonight Vox, what wine pairs best with Lamb?”

#hazbin hotel vox #Vox x reader #yandere vox #yandere vox x reader

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darth-mortem · 6 months

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GhostSoap fic according to poll results.

Tired Ghost returns after several months on duty without Soap, who has been recovering from an injury. Despite the late hour, it’s not only Johnny who meets him at the airport. 2385 words.

Fluff, domestic, love, OC child, MDNI

Lieutenant Riley was deadly tired. He sat on the plane, sandwiched between a chatty old woman and a snoring man, and pretended to be asleep. He was wearing camouflage pants, military boots, and a black hoodie. His face was hidden by a fabric mask with a skull print and a hood. Simon looked menacing, but that didn’t stop the old woman from trying to talk to him, so pretending to be asleep was the lieutenant's only option to avoid the conversation.

You can keep reading here or on Ao3

The last few months have been difficult for TF 141. Soap wasn’t with them; he was recovering from a severe injury, so three soldiers had to do the work for four. And there was a lot of work. A variety of scums had activated around the world; TF 141 has been fighting them, thwarting sinister plans, and not even having a couple days of rest at their base. The last mission was the most intense: terrorists threatened to use chemical weapons against civilians, and time was very short. Members of TF 141 did the impossible—managed to neutralize both the bastards and their deadly missiles, but they all were injured, so Captain Price arranged a leave for them. He stayed with Gaz, who’ll have to spend a few days in a hospital, and Ghost took a ticket for the nearest plane to Manchester and went home. The lieutenant’s shot leg hurt, but he didn’t think about it. He didn’t think about missions, either. His tired mind was filled with thoughts about home, about his beloved Johnny, who must have almost recovered, and about Olivia.

Olivia, this adorable little girl, came into Riley and MacTavish’s life a year ago. She was Simon’s own daughter, the only good thing the lieutenant had done during his very short and failed marriage, which he had entered into almost immediately after he took his revenge on Roba and became a member of TF 141. His wife, Emma, left him when she was pregnant, saying she didn’t want the child to grow up with that kind of father, and Simon didn’t try to stop her. He was too traumatized and broken by everything that happened to him; he was tormented by nightmares and drank a lot during that time. Simon regularly sent money for his daughter, and in return, his ex-wife sometimes sent him Olivia’s photos and briefly shared the girl’s milestones. Riley only saw his child once before Emma died in a car accident.

At that time, Ghost was already dating Soap; they spent their leaves together in the lieutenant’s apartment in Manchester and made joint plans, but Johnny still knew nothing about Olivia. It was a difficult conversation that led to an even more difficult decision. The girl had no other relatives; Simon was the only one who had custody of her after her mother’s death, so he and Johnny became Olivia’s new family.

The plane shook, and Ghost raised his head, looking around. The flight attendant announced that there is a turbulence zone ahead, and all passengers should put the backs of their seats in a vertical position, remove the tables, and fasten their seat belts. The lieutenant did everything with a slight tension, which didn’t hide from the gaze of his chatty neighbor.

“Are you afraid of flying?” The old woman asked.

“No,” Ghost answered. “I’m afraid of falling.”

“You're saying that as if you've already fallen.” She laughed cheerfully.

“Yes,” the lieutenant said. “Three or four times.”

The old woman fell silent, suddenly realizing that her gloomy neighbor wasn’t joking. The plane shook again, and it reminded Ghost how he and the others had to jump from a dangerously low height to save themselves from a crashing airlifter. The parachutes managed to open, but the landing was very harsh. Simon escaped with bruises, but Price then severally sprained his leg.

However, today everything went well. The plane left the turbulence zone, and flight attendants began serving drinks. Glancing at his watch, Ghost realized that they had less than an hour to fly, so he quit pretending to be asleep and asked to pour him some tea. The old woman livened up and began to tell something again, but the lieutenant hardly listened to her, automatically nodding from time to time and thinking that very soon he would hug Johnny and kiss his little daughter.

The plane was arriving late, so Simon didn’t expect to be met. He was one of the last to go for his luggage, and he was given his backpack and a large military bag with his gear and weapons in a special case. Slowly, limping on his injured leg, he made his way to the exit, where the passengers and those who met them were still standing. The lieutenant walked with his head down, concentrating on his steps and the weight of the bag in his hand, so he absolutely didn’t expect what happened next.

Suddenly, the noises of the airport were interrupted by a sonorous child’s voice, and Simon, raising his head, saw his daughter.

“Hi, daddy!” She exclaimed loudly and then ran to the lieutenant, holding out her little hands.

The girl was dressed in denim overalls, Simon’s huge camo shirt, and Johnny’s military cap. Ghost dropped his bag, awkwardly dropped to one knee, and held Olivia to his chest, feeling his eyes start to sting. The girl kissed him on his cheek above the mask; then Johnny came up to them and lifted the lieutenant’s bag with a shiny smile.

“Let’s go home, mo ghaol*.” MacTavish said.

“Aye, let’s gang hame, da!” Olivia exclaimed with a strong Scottish accent.

Simon slowly stood up, lifting the girl in his arms, and looked at smiling Johnny.

“Wha’?” He asked. “Wee children quickly pick up everything ‘n’ easily repeat it.”

Ghost sighed silently and said nothing. He was too tired and very happy to see his family that met him here. Holding his daughter with one hand, he hugged Johnny with the other one, and they walked straight to the exit to the parking lot.

Johnny got behind the wheel, and Simon got in the back seat because Olivia wanted him around. She clung to her dad’s hand and told him about the school she had just started going to, about her new friends, and about the neighbor’s dog named Butch. The girl also told how she and ‘da Johnny’ were cooking pancakes and almost burned down the kitchen, but everything ended well.

“Hey!” Soap exclaimed, looking at her through the mirror. “Ye promised nae tae tell daddy Simon aboot it!”

Olivia laughed and showed Johnny her little tongue. Ghost noticed that she spoke with switching up Scottish and Mancunian accents, and he mentally felt sorry for her teachers.

The girl’s enthusiasm was short-lived. It was getting very late, so she fell asleep in Simon’s arms halfway home. He gently stroked his daughter’s blond hair and looked in the mirror, catching Johnny’s gaze in it.

“I missed you.” Ghost said silently.

It used to be very difficult for him to say such things out loud. Every time Simon wanted to tell Johnny how much he loved him, how much he appreciated him, and how much he trusted him, it was as if invisible, icy fingers were squeezing his throat, preventing him from making a sound. The ghosts of his dead relatives surrounded Riley, reminding him of what happens to those he loves. Soap, however, was patient; he asked nothing and demanded nothing, and gradually the icy grip of the terrible past began to loosen and let go of Simon’s crippled soul.

“I missed ye too.” Johnny answered and smiled gently. “How is yer leg?”

“Solid.” Ghost said. “And how are you, my dear?”

“Solid too.” Soap winked cheerfully. “After yer leave, we’ll return to th’ duty th’gither.”

Simon carried Olivia into the apartment in his arms, and together with Johnny, they changed the girl into pajamas and put her to bed. She didn’t wake up; she just mumbled something in her sleep when Ghost and Soap took turns kissing her on the cheeks before leaving her room.

“God, I missed ye sae much!” Johnny hugged Simon tightly, just down the hall, and reached in for a kiss. “Are ye hungry?”

“Uh… yes.” Ghost wasn’t able to answer immediately, not wanting to tear himself away from his lover’s lips. “I also want to take a shower. I still have fucking sand on my teeth.”

“Then go.” Soap smiled. “I’ll heat up the dinner in th’ meantime. I didn’t eat either, was waiting fur ye.”

“Just don’t burn the kitchen, copy?” Simon smiled, kissed Johnny again, and, turning him towards the kitchen, sped him up with a slap on his ass.

Riley stood under the streams of hot water for a long time. Then he put a new bandage on his thigh, put on his home sweatpants and a black T-shirt, and left the bathroom. Once, it was also absolutely impossible for Ghost; he always wore his mask or balaclava. But those days were long gone, and he didn’t want to remember them now, when Johnny was waiting for him. Johnny, who wasn’t afraid of Simon's scarred face and body, who accepted him as he is, who loved him without any conditions or compromises.

Johnny really was already waiting. On the table in the small kitchen were plates of meat and vegetables, a bottle of whiskey, and a couple of candles.

“So, it’s a date?” Ghost asked, smiling.

“Aye!” Soap answered. “Sit doon, mo ghaol, ‘n’ remember that this date must end in bed, if ye know what I mean.”

“Fuck yeah!” Simon nodded, taking the fork.

Johnny was curious about the TF 141 missions and how the captain and Kyle were doing, but he didn’t ask any questions. Now wasn’t the time for that. Now Simon was tired and didn’t want to speak; he wanted to listen, so the sergeant told the lieutenant about Olivia, about his rehabilitation, and how he took the girl to his parents, not forgetting to pour whiskey for both of them.

“It was very tasty, my dear.” Simon said gratefully, when their plates became empty. “Did you cook it yourself?”

“Aye!” Johnny answered proudly. “This is ma maw’s recipe!”

Of course, he didn’t tell how he called his mother every minute, asking so many stupid questions that even Mrs. MacTavish’s angelic patience finally failed. The main thing is that Simon liked everything, right?

“I want ye tae drink coffee while I’ll wash th’ dishes.” Soap said. “Ye need energy because you'll need to work a lot tonight. I want ye, ye know?”

“Aye.” Ghost nodded and then smiled. “I want you too, Johnny.”

They went to their bedroom. Riley closed the door, and MacTavish, meanwhile, quickly pulled off his T-shirt and fell on the bed that had been spread in advance. Simon piled on top of him and started to kiss his lips, his neck, and the scar on his chin greedily.

Soap slid his hands under Ghost’s T-shirt, running his fingers over numerous scars. He let out a breath, closing his eyes for a second before pressing his knee lightly into Johnny's groin, making him groan. They quickly removed the rest of their clothes, throwing them on the floor, and then Soap pressed Simon against the bed and began to kiss his stocky body as he moved down.

“Fucking hell…” Ghost gasped as Johnny reached his cock and began to lick it.

He ran his fingers into the mohawk, squeezing and lowering Soap's head. He gave in, wrapped his lips around Ghost’s huge cock, took it in his mouth, and then pushed deeper into his throat. Closing his eyes, he let out a low moan, expressing complete satisfaction at what he was doing.

“Do you like it, yeah?” Simon asked hoarsely, running his fingers through Johnny’s hair.

“Mmpf!” He smacked his lips as he let Ghost’s cock out of his mouth and looked at his partner with his amazing blue eyes. “Hell yeah, I lik’ it sae much!”

Simon pulled him closer, and Johnny fell on his chest. A second later, he felt his partner's large palm: Ghost's long fingers wrapped around both of their cocks, pressing them together. Soap shivered with satisfaction and started to move, thrusting his hips and feeling the pleasant friction. Simon looked at him, holding him close before sliding his other hand from Johnny’s back to his ass and squeezing it, making his partner moan again.

“Harder!” Soap begged, and Simon clenched his fingers tighter and started to move his hand faster.

“Come on, Johnny,” he said, “cum for me.”

It was the last straw, the last thing Soap needed to make the pleasure wash over him and carry him away on its sweet waves. He was clinging to Ghost's broad shoulders, sobbing and moaning as he buried his face in his partner’s neck, and it was so unbelievably beautiful that it didn't take long for Simon to catch him up. Ghost groaned, throwing his head back, and it was one more thing he had never done before. The icy lieutenant was so used to suppressing his emotions that, for a long time, he couldn’t get rid of them even in bed, even when he was really good. However, Johnny had fixed that too, and now he was enjoying watching Simon cum.

They smoked in bed lazily, then got up and went to the shower. Soap couldn’t stop smiling even when Ghost was kissing him, standing under the streams of hot water. Simon and Johnny put on their pajama pants before going back to bed. The appearance of a child in their home forced them to get rid of some habits, such as going naked to the kitchen at night to drink water. However, none of them regretted or complained, because both managed to love little Olivia very much.

The girl quietly slipped into her dads’ bedroom early in the morning. Careful not to worry them, Olivia climbed onto the bed and snuggled between Johnny and Simon, who hugged her without waking up. Soon, the girl fell asleep again, and the room, illuminated by the rays of the morning sun, fell into a warm and cozy silence, which was disturbed only by the sounds of the calm breathing of three people.

*Mo ghaol (Gaelic) – my love

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