#Couch Stain Treatment

[couchcleaningcanberra]

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[dilfcho]

princess treatment + crybaby!reader w/ toji!

“sit.”

you sniffle, tears staining your cheeks. you rub your face roughly, no longer worried about the state of your makeup now that you’re in the privacy of your own home. toji had already wiped your face the second he saw your red eyes and puffy cheeks, thumbs pulling at the skin beneath your eyes.

when you dramatically plop down on the couch, your dear boyfriend kneels before you, knees placed on either side of your foot. callused hands run down the length of your calf and halt when they reach your ankle. he gently threads the strap of your heel through the buckle, undoing the tight hold it had on your foot. you sigh at the relief, stretching your muscles when he slides the shoe off.

“better?”

you nod, his eyes meeting your tired ones. the scar across his mouth moves with his lips when he frowns at the sight of the eyes you rubbed raw.

he does the same with your other foot, freeing you from the uncomfortable heels you stupidly chose this morning. though, toji doesn’t let you scold yourself, massaging your muscles slow and soft to distract you.

his fingers soon press into the ball of your foot, rubbing the pain away. he slides up, digging just enough into your calf. his broad shoulders are accentuated by the dim light. getting to see him from above only makes him look bigger.

before you know it, his lips are pressed to your knee, placing a quick kiss to it. “need to stop wearing those,” he tells you in dangerously low tone, “as much as i love being on my knees for you, i don’t want it to be because you’re in pain.”

still caught up in his touch and the horrific day you had, you nod silently once again. you can’t muster up the words to agree with him. you wish your tears weren’t blurring your vision so badly so you could see the way his arms flex when he massages you.

another peck, this time on your thigh. he places your feet on his thighs, holding your ankles together.

“too pretty to be crying like this, mama.”

embarrassed, you free one of your ankles to lightly push on his abdomen. “you’re so corny,” you manage to choke out. he’s surprised your voice isn’t more raspy from the sobbing.

“that’s the first thing you say to me?”

he chuckles, placing your legs back on the floor next to him. leaning back on his feet, he stands to his full stature. your teary eyes never leave him, instead tilting your head back to keep the contact as he towers over you.

“let’s sleep, you need it. i’ll carry you.” it’s not a offer. instead, an order. he scoops you up, thick arms sliding under your legs and beneath your shoulders. with ease, he straightens his back and walks you to the bedroom. your arms tighten around his neck, holding yourself close to his chest. he doesn’t really care what makeup you get on his shirt, he just happy he doesn’t have to look at the unbearably sad expression you’ve worn since you got home. he can’t stand to see you like that. if staining his clothes will dry the tears that make his chest tighten, so be it.

“i love you, toji. thank you.” you mumble into his chest. he somehow holds you tighter than before.

“i love you too, sweet girl.”

-

mlist

[babygorewhore]

Think I need someone Older.

Older!Rafe Cameron x fem reader concept.

After seeing your now ex boyfriend Topper with Sarah, you find comfort in his dad who had him really young.

Inspired by the book Birthday girl. In this universe, Sarah and Rafe are not siblings. Rafe is in his forties and reader is mid twenties.

Warnings: Age gap, talk of masturbation, thigh riding, praise, I think one use of degrading, one use of the word daddy, oral fem receiving and talks of Topper cheating/being a terrible boyfriend.

You were furious. You’ve had no luck for the past year. First, medical bills wouldn’t let you buy a car yet. Second, your boyfriend of two years, Topper Thornton cheated on you with Sarah Cameron.

It wasn’t a perfect relationship by any means but you did care about Topper. How could you not? You’d been each other’s firsts. Shared so many memories and even moved in at his apartment.

You’d met his dad, Rafe Cameron a couple of times. Topper took his mother’s last name. Rafe had been a teen dad and now was in his forties yet he was really hot. Did you jerk off thinking about him sometimes? Maybe…

He’d always been nice to you, even apologizing for Topper’s rude behavior. Especially since your now ex boyfriend, called him to pick you up since you insisted on leaving. You’d caught him and some girl named Sarah in the act. Apparently it had been going on for a while.

You wanted to be petty and refuse the ride but you didn’t want to walk to a hotel in the dark.

Rafe listened to you cry and carry on as he drove you to his expensive penthouse. You sat on the couch with your tear stained cheeks as he gave you a bottle of water and a small glass of liquor.

“It’ll help.” Rafe gruffly ordered and smoothed back the slight salt and pepper peeking out of his short hair. He sat down next to you, his muscular thigh’s expanding and knee touching yours.

“sorry about him. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with him.” He sighed and leaned his head back before giving you a glance. “He doesn’t deserve you.” Rafe said plainly.

“God, maybe I did something that made me deserve this.” You whispered and he sat up straight. Rafe extended his hand and gripped your chin. Turning you to face him fully.

“None of that, sweetheart. Topper did a shitty thing and it’s his own fault. Don’t be mad at yourself, baby.” His assurance moistened your mouth that was slightly parted.

You leaned into his touch that cupped your cheek, smoothing away the tears with his thumb. Rafe pulled his hand back, as if remembering himself and how this situation was turning.

“I should let you get some sleep-“ He started but your restraint shattered.

You climbed on his lap, your legs on either side of his crotch and your hands settled next to his head. Rafe’s blue eyes widened and his palms naturally fell at your hips. Grazing your ass that was covered by the loose fitting jeans.

He smelled so masculine, comforting and your attraction to him grew by his treatment of you. His age didn’t matter. You were a fully grown woman. It didn’t affect you that he was Topper’s dad.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Rafe groaned as you grind down on his dick. Your pussy throbbed as he guided you through it despite his words.

Your sadness morphed into hunger as you kissed him deeply. You sucked his lower lip, taking your time getting to know his mouth and tongue that licked at yours. But it wasn’t too much like guys your age. Rafe thrusted his lap, his fingers digging into your waist as your shirt rode up.

You shifted so you were riding his thigh, moving to nuzzle into his warm neck. Your lips attached to his pulse point, collarbone and your hands felt his chest. Your cunt seeped through your underwear, puffy clit chasing the friction as you sped up.

Your body was hot as Rafe bounced his leg, aiding to your movements. You whined and gripped his shirt.

“Needing to be fucked so bad you’re humping my leg like a puppy?” Rafe said between pants and his half closed lids admired you. “Is that why you’re so stressed all the time? You needed someone to make you cum?”

“Mhm,” You moaned in response and felt your release approaching. Rafe grabbed the back of your head, yanking you back to his lips in a harsh kiss. You could hardly concentrate as he nipped your lower lip with his teeth.

“Yeah? You about to cum? Go ahead, princess. Give it to me. Be a good girl and let go for daddy, huh?”

You came with a shuddered wail and curled your spine inward. Your body trembled as Rafe slipped his hand inside your pants, feeling your panties as you chased your high. He scooped up the cum inside the fabric, admiring the glistening fluid and popped it in his mouth.

“You taste better than a dream, baby girl. Now, I’m gonna lick up from the main source.” Rafe flipped you on your back effortlessly, yanking down your jeans and panties.

You saw his hard dick twitch at the sight of your swollen cunt. He clicked his tongue and reached down to spread you apart with two big fingers. His rings shining from your cum.

“Can’t believe any man would treat you like that. With a pussy soaked just from riding my leg. Goddamn,” He whispered and dipped down.

Rafe wasn’t shy at all. He shoved his face in, tongue lewdly and thoroughly savoring your clit. Your hands flew to his head, digging your nails and making him grunt. He held your thighs up and spread. Unlike other guys who barely touched you.

He sucked your center before shoving his tongue inside you. His nose hitting the right spot as you cried out and your nipples hardened. Rafe replaced his mouth with his fingers as he went back to your clit, moaning and curving deeply.

“Perfect fuckin pussy. Leaking all over my face.” His words were muffled as you reached your second orgasm. He fucked you through it with his mouth and kept plunging his fingers inside you.

Rafe kissed up your lower stomach, working his way up your chest and neck. “Oh, I’m gonna have some fun with you, sweetheart. You’re going to cum until you can’t keep those slutty little eyes open.” He smirked and hauled you off the couch.

Tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysbabygirl @sturnioloshacker @cameronsprincess @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @oceanblvd111 @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafecameroninterlude @redhead1180 @gri959 @stillwjk-channie-lixie

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[jaysng]

post arguement — lee heeseung

pairing: bf!heeseung x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

synopsis: heeseung wants to get reader’s heart back after the arguement so he decides to read the poetry he has hidden since her for a long time.

• REBLOG if you enjoyed

The room was quiet, filled with the tension that had settled in after the argument. You and Heeseung sat on opposite couches, the distance between you seeming wider than the physical space. You had been giving him the silent treatment since the argument, unable to let go of the hurt his words had caused. 

Heeseung, on the other hand, was drowning in regret. He could barely look at you, knowing that he was the one who had pushed you away. But he couldn’t stand this silence any longer. He wanted—no, needed—to make things right, to show you how deeply he loved you and how sorry he was for everything.

His eyes darted to the plushie you always kept on the couch beside you—a small, soft stuffed animal that you had cherished for years. Heeseung had always teased you about it, calling it your "little buddy," but now, it seemed like the only way he could reach you.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the plushie and cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling like a fool but too desperate to care. Holding it up, he made the plushie "walk" across the couch towards you, its little arms waving in the air as if it had something important to say.

You glanced at the plushie, and despite the lingering tension, you felt a flicker of curiosity. Heeseung was never one to do something like this, and the sheer absurdity of it almost made you smile. Almost.

When he saw you look, Heeseung, still holding the plushie, began to speak, his voice soft and trembling with sincerity. 

“You cannot love her,” he murmured through the plushie, his voice barely above a whisper. “For it is a sin.”

You frowned slightly, puzzled by the words, but something in his tone kept you listening.

“I only smile at their words,” the plushie continued, “knowing that they have not knelt at her altar nor tasted the divinity staining her lips. They have not heard her giggles murmured between every kiss.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as the words sank in, each one laced with a tenderness and reverence that you hadn’t expected. Heeseung had never been one for poetry, or so you thought, and hearing him speak these words through the plushie was almost surreal.

“So be it then,” the plushie said, its little arms flopping in what could only be described as a dramatic gesture. “I will walk into hell gladly knowing I've held heaven in my hands.”

Your heart clenched at the last line, the sheer vulnerability in his voice cutting through the wall you had built around yourself. You wanted to stay mad, to hold onto the anger that had kept you from breaking down, but his words were too powerful, too filled with the love you had always longed to hear.

Heeseung, still holding the plushie, hesitated before speaking again. He knew this was his chance, the moment where he could either mend the rift between you or let it grow wider.

“If equal affection cannot be,” the plushie said, its voice quieter now, “Let the more loving one be me.”

“oh what am i without you?”

The room fell into silence again, the weight of those words hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting the two of you. You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you didn’t brush it away. Instead, you let it fall, your heart overwhelmed by the depth of Heeseung’s feelings.

He watched you closely, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for your reaction. He had laid himself bare, exposed the most tender parts of his soul, all through the plushie that now seemed like his last hope.

You reached out slowly, your fingers brushing against the plushie before gently taking it from his hands. You held it close to your chest, feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin, but it was the warmth of Heeseung’s words that truly enveloped you.

“Why didn’t you let me hear these earlier?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. The question wasn’t accusatory; it was filled with a kind of wonder, a quiet yearning that had been buried deep inside you for so long.

Heeseung’s face softened, and he slowly moved to sit beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence but still giving you space. His eyes were downcast at first, the weight of his guilt pressing heavily on him.

“I was scared,” he began, his voice low and shaky. “Scared that if I shared this with you, it wouldn’t be enough, or that it would be too much. I’ve never been good with words when it matters most, and I thought... I thought that maybe keeping them to myself was better than risking saying the wrong thing.”

He looked up then, meeting your eyes with a vulnerability you had rarely seen in him. “But I realize now that keeping it from you was the real mistake. You deserved to hear these words, to know how much you mean to me. And I kept them locked away, thinking I was protecting us, protecting myself. But all I did was push you away.”

His hands trembled slightly as he reached out, gently taking one of your hands in his. His touch was tentative, as if he was afraid you might pull away. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. “I’m sorry for not listening to you, for not being the boyfriend you deserve. I know I hurt you, and that’s something I’ll never forgive myself for. But I promise, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Heeseung’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading with you to understand the depth of his remorse. “I don’t want to lose you,” he continued, his voice thick with desperation. “I can’t lose you. You’re everything to me, and I don’t want to spend another day without making sure you know that. I’m going to do better—I’ll share everything with you, every thought, every feeling, every word. Because you deserve that. You deserve all of me.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and love. You could see the tears welling up in his eyes, the way his shoulders shook slightly as he tried to hold back the emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

And in that moment, you knew he meant every word. The walls you had built around your heart began to crumble, the anger and hurt dissolving under the warmth of his apology. You could see how much he regretted his actions, how deeply he was affected by the thought of losing you.

You squeezed his hand gently, your own tears flowing freely now. “I love you too, Heeseung,” you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with warmth. “And I want us to be okay. I want to hear all the poems you’ve written, all the ones you’ll write.”

Heeseung’s face broke into a relieved, tender smile, his tears finally spilling over as he pulled you into his arms. He held you close, his embrace strong and comforting, as if he never wanted to let go. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, and in that moment, you knew that everything would be okay.

Heeseung kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll never take you for granted again. I promise.” His voice was thick with emotion, each word carrying the weight of his sincerity, his regret, and his overwhelming love for you.

As you held each other, the plushie still nestled between you, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and understanding, the tension from earlier fading into the background. The argument was behind you now, a lesson learned, and the bond between you felt stronger, deeper, forged in the fire of your love and forgiveness.

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his with a new understanding. “We’ll be okay,” you said softly, your heart swelling with love for the man who had just bared his soul to you. “As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”

Heeseung nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, sealing the promise between you. In that kiss, you felt the unspoken words, the love that had always been there but was now stronger than ever. And as you leaned into him, your heart felt lighter, filled with the certainty that no matter what came your way, you would face it together.

do not copy or repost my work — @/jaysng

[jilixthinker]

gross freak

͟͟͞♡ jisung × fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warning: sub!jisung, dom!reader, kinda gross jisung, established relationship, masturbation (m rec), cock/balls slapping, jisung is gross but they are so in love

=͟͟͞♡ please consider reblogging if you like my works!

“Honey, I'm home!"

Jisung is kicking off his white sneakers in front of the door. They're a bit stained with mud on the sides, and he knows he’s not allowed to step inside the house wearing those unless he wants to hear your voice reverberating through the apartment. He's still wearing his soccer gear, tiny red shorts with a white stripe down the side, cut just above the knee, and a white tank top that you're sure he wore for the training as well. It's 10 p.m., but it's still warm outside, and the white fabric sticks uncomfortably to Jisung's slim body, a few yellow sweat stains under his armpits. 

His hair is still damp from the running, tied in a bun. A red hairband is pulling back his greasy locks from his forehead. He hasn't changed that in at least two weeks.

"Idiot," you chuckle in response, "how was it?"

"Uh, fine I guess" Jisung answers while kicking off his grayish, damp socks along with his shoes, "Changbin-hyung fell and ate a bunch of soil, I laughed so hard I peed my pants" he snorts.

"You all act just like children," you reply with a giggle, "I'm glad you had a good time. Are you hungry? Have you had dinner yet?"

"I ate a burger with the boys . It was huuuuge, baby. Can still feel it moving in my stomach," he replies as he finally enters in the living room delivering his signature goofy smile. 

You smile as you see him patting his tummy. Jisung is very thin, almost borderline unhealthy, but a small layer of fat sits stubbornly below his belly button, and it doesn’t go away despite all of the physical exercise. Jisung says it’s okay, that he doesn't mind. But you, you love it.

"Good. You didn’t take a shower there, did you?" you ask stretching your legs on the couch and pausing the show you were watching. 

"Nah, I didn't feel like it. I'll do it in a while." Jisung answers while opening the refrigerator and fishing out a can of sprite. He opens it with gnarled fingers and brings it to his lips, chugging half of it in one big gulp. 

"Ew, Sungie" 

Jisung widens his eyes in fake shock and leans against the peninsula of the kitchen. "Ew? To the love of your life? Your boyfriend, your future husband, the apple of your ey-"

"Enough of this," you laugh as you come closer him, leaning across the peninsula. "I could count the grease stains on your hands if I wanted to. You're dirty."

"Mean," Jisung whispers drinking the other half of the sprite and hiding a burp with one fist. "I thought I'd come home and get a better treatment than this."

You burst out laughing at his words. "Uh, did you have plans? What did you expect big boy, tell me." 

Jisung chuckles again and you can see a bit of burger sauce pooled at the corner of his lips. 

"Uhh, dunno. A massage, maybe? Showing your baby you love him?”

You laugh, "You want a massage? Come here, that can be arranged." You take a couple of steps back and sit on the couch, on the peninsula side, so you can stretch your legs. Jisung looks at you with a lopsided smile and brings a hand to his head, scratching behind his ear. You can see from a distance the oily strands of hair slipping through his fingers. You should find it disgusting. You really should.

You open your arms and offer him a big smile, "Come on, baby. You must be dead tired, hmm? The boys destroyed you. Come to mama, I'll give you what you need."

Jisung gulps and giggles, wobbling closer to you and letting himself fall into the space between your thighs, abandoning his back against your chest. Then he lets himself slide forward a little, pressing the nape of his neck against the softness of your breasts under the shirt you're wearing.

"Uh, uh. That feels nice already," he murmurs adjusting himself against your chest.

"Have you had some drinks?" you ask, bringing your hands to his shoulders and pinching them lightly. The fabric is damp and smells of sweat and the spray deodorant Jisung always puts on when he doesn't feel like showering.

"Just a couple of beers with Chan-hyung," Jisung sobs as soon as your fingers sink lightly into his muscles, "that man needs to get laid."

"Don't be cocky, Sungie," you reply with a grin as your hands descend to work on the muscles in his arms, "if it wasn’t for me, you'd be jerking off to one of your tacky porns as well. Be grateful I picked you up on the streets and decided you would be mine."

Your words are light, he knows you are joking. Even though, to tell the truth, Jisung was a virgin before meeting you, and the first time you had sex he was so nervous he came before he even managed to put the tip in. Adorable.

Jisung laughs and then he lets out a breathy moan when you run your fingers up between his shoulder blades, focusing on a knot. "That’s true. But now he’s the one jacking off to a shower wall. While me, I have a beautiful girlfriend who decided I was good enough to be adopted. I still am thankful for your bad taste in men." 

"My taste in men is great, excuse you," you retort as your chin rests on his head, near the band that pulls back his hair. "I pulled the nastiest hottest boy around. I regret nothing."

Jisung laughs. "You literally call me your rat." 

"Rats are cute," you answer back piquantly. Your fingers continue to work on the knot in Jisung's back with a little more insistence. Jisung writhes softly. "You just call me that because I'm a little gross."

You lower your head to rest a kiss on his greasy hair. There's gel residue on the strands, and it's a bit crusty.

"You know how much I love that you're a little gross. Makes me feral."

"You're a freak." Jisung laughs as your hands finish massaging his shoulder blades and descend to the front, down to his chest, to caress his sore pecs.

"Maybe," you admit. "Tell me how many beers you've had again. Just the truth this time, hmm?" 

"Five. Or six. Maybe six. Ah-" Jisung gulps when you brush your thumb on his pec, grazing his nipple. "Feelin' a bit tipsy." 

"I know, my love," you whisper as you continue massaging his chest with your fingers. Jisung's head is nestled perfectly between your breasts and you feel his ribcage swell and deflate quickly, like a baby bird. "You're all wriggly. You just can't sit still when you feel good, hmm?"

Jisung laughs embarrassed before letting a faint moan out when your fingers pinch his nipple again, more insistently. “Not fair though, you're t-teasing."

You nod a few times as your face descends to his ear, kissing the skin behind it, where you know that acrid, powerful smell typical of Jisung accumulates. “As if you didn't have a different kind of massage in mind from the beginning. Don't lie to mama, Sungie."

Jisung shakes his head tentatively, “I wasn’t trying to imply any of that”.

You chuckle at his words, bringing your mouth to his earlobe and nibbling at it. “Now say it again without drooling over yourself, mh?”

Jisung hiccups and goes limp against you, giving you enough space to keep nosing at his neck. A little bit of saliva is bubbling out of his parted lips, forming a shiny coat on his skin and you just wanna suck it off.

“Well, maybe. M-maybe just a little,” he grunts while the tip of your tongue brushes on the shell of his ear. “You’re mean for real.”

“Don’t call me mean when I’m about to jack you off, Sungie. That’s just ungrateful, don’t you think?” you whisper on his skin, breathing the sweet smell of his body in. Even his sweat kinda smells like beer. That’s disgusting and hot at the same time. Maybe you’re a freak after all.

“Oh. Oh. We’re… we’re doing that? Fuck, yeah. Suuuure, cool.” And then he lets out the nervous squeak he does everytime you’re about to touch him. It doesn’t matter it’s been years, he never gets used to you been enough attracted to him to give him pleasure even if he’s dirty. But, to be fair, Jisung is always kind of dirty.

You smile against his skin and your fingers find his nipple again, rolling it between your pointer and thumb over the fabric of his top. Jisung keens at that and you can feel the goosebumps forming on his arms under you.

“Wanna kiss. Give Sungie kiss first? Can you? Please?” He blubbers while your other hand is caressing just above his navel. He turns his face to look at you, and the angle is weird because he needs to force himself in this position, but his cheeks are flushed and cute, and his eyes so big you can almost see your own reflection in them.

The first kiss on his lips is just a peck, nothing else, and you can feel that Jisung tries, he tries so hard not to be affected too much this early, but as soon as you place your mouth on him and start to nibble lightly at his bottom lip, he lets out a broken whimper. He tastes like alcohol and ketchup, and his teeth are all sticky for the sprite he just chugged. You find yourself forcing his mouth open just after a few seconds just to be able to lick at them, feeling the sugar on the tip of your tongue.

“You’re so filthy, Sungie. You’re delicious.” You tease him a bit while sucking his own wet muscle into your mouth and slowly pulling it between your teeth.

Jisung lets out the quietest yet painful moan, "Ah- please, I just...", and he starts parting his thighs just a little bit, the tiniest movement showing how he is growing hard under his pants.

You look down and he is just the prettiest, all spread out for you.

“Never denied you anything,” you mutter as you scoot forward on the sofa to place a last peck on his lips. They’re a bit chapped, and a drop of blood stains your mouth.

Jisung’s head falls back on your chest, nuzzling between the comfort of your breasts, and he looks wrecked already. His eyes are teary and his vision fuzzy while his lips pucker, as if he was trying to suck on the air.

“Fuck, you’re so cute. Wish you had something on your mouth, uh?” you ask him as your left hand puts and end to the lazy massage on his lower stomach and finally cups him through his pants.

Jisung is fully hard already but, to an untrained eye, the two inches tent his erection is struggling to maintain makes him look like he’s just sporting half of a chub.

“Uh, uh - yeah, w-wanna suck please,” he manages while your hands goes a bit lower to graze his balls. “Please, mama- gimme anything.”

“Oh, Sungie, don’t beg,” you whisper kissing the tender skin of his ear one more time. Jisung’s soft sobs always make you feel lightheaded and needy, but you cannot show him. Not now. “Mama’s gonna give you fingers, mhkay?”

Jisung nods and parts his lips as a pavlovian response to your words, his tongue lolling out diligently out of his mouth. Your pointer and middle finger pinch the fat of his bottom lip and he moans softly at the teasing. When you finally ease your fingers inside of the heath of his mouth, Jisung lets out a weak cry. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” he gurgles around your digits as an indecent amount of spit oozes out and coat your palm.

When you look over his shoulder, you can see the shape of Jisung’s tiny cock angrily pointing at you, still covered by his shorts. The red fabric is somehow already wet because Jisung is always eager and leaky, and what he lacks in size he makes up in liquids.

“How many minutes today, Sungie? How much can you last for mama?” you ask, tone sticky and sweet while you thrust your fingers deeper inside his mouth and brush at the base of his tongue.

Jisung chokes on the pressure and a single tear escapes from his eyes. His cock twitches and you pat it condescendingly. “Aw, poor thing. How much? Two minutes?”

“Uh- mhhf sowy” he hiccups, mouth full of fingers and saliva, “sorry, I’m not..”

You smile and you finally wrap your free hand around his balls, squeezing it. “Don’t worry, baby. Mama gets it. Wanna come already uh?”

Your face finds its way against the crook of his neck and you lick a fat portion of skin, sucking it into your mouth. He tastes like soil, dirt and sweat. But most importantly, it tastes like Jisung. Like fried food and soda, mint cigarettes to cover the smell of unwashed teeth, ingrown hair and blemishes, acne and cum.

You bite on that sensitive spot and he sobs the most pathetic whimper out as your hand slaps his clothed cock once, twice, thrice, and your fingers go deeper and deeper, almost brushing his uvula and making him drown on his own spit.

“So-oh-sorry” he cries as his cock spasms one more time under the constriction of two layers of clothes. His knees shake and he lets out the most loud and sinful noise his voice lets him. His hips tremble with the force of his orgasm and he goes completely limp against you while spurting warm ropes of cum inside of his sweaty underwear. His eyes are glassy and full of tears while he empties himself for what it seems to be a full minute. He always cums more than he lasts anyway.

You hold him close through it as his high washes over him, arm tight around his waist, and you kiss his cheek, savoring the salt on his skin.

After a minute, Jisung turns his head in search of your reassurance, and he finds you already looking at him, your fingers falling out of his mouth to let him breathe properly.

“Well, that was a record” you chuckle at the sight of his goofy smile.

Jisung huffs and rolls his eyes at you. “I said- I said I had a few beers. That’s why.” He tries to justify himself.

You wink at him and you blow a raspberry on his nose. He always try to be the bigger man, but it never works.

“Whatever you say,” you concede. “Go change your underwear now. And take a shower.”

Jisung lazily shakes his head. “Nah. Too tired. Imma do it later.”

“You’re gross, Jisung.”

“And you’re a freak.”

©️jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[beomie3]

lavender - choi yeonjun

boyfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader

content: established relationship, period sex, yeonjun pampers you after being in pain from cramps all day, runs you a lavender bath, soothes your period cramps with a special remedy ;)

warning: fluff & smut, cursing, bath sex, cream pie, fingering, cramps </3, extreme princess treatment <3

wc: 2.5k

♫ lavender - laundry day

“junieeeeeeee” your voice comes out muffled from under your pillow, face stuffed in it as a strong wave of cramps tighten in your abdomen.

your face is scrunched as tight as you can get it, fists clenched around the linen of the pillowcase, wrinkling it in the same spot all day as your cramps came and went as they pleased.

“another one baby?” he runs out from the kitchen, hand towel thrown over his shoulder as he was just preparing you soup for dinner, despite you not having much of an appetite all day.

he comes over to where you laid on the couch, kneeling down next to you and examining your face, a worried pout on his cute lips.

he cupped your face in his palm, his fingers coming up to stroke your hair.

“i’m so sorry,” his eyebrows furrowed, wanting to do everything in his power to help you and hating that he couldn’t just magically make the cramps disappear with the snap of his fingers.

you admitted that the sight of his handsome face briefly distracted you from the anguish, just focusing into the depths of his eyes and letting their deep brown magic entrance you.

just then, you noticed the shape of his eyes change from worrisome to intrigued, like an idea just sparked his mind.

“let me take care of this,” he slightly tilted his head toward you, eyes tentatively searching yours. “okay, baby?”

you nodded, a tiny smile appearing on the corner of your lip as he fiddled with the ends of your hair.

"come here," he cooed, leaning down to scoop you up in his arms, hands sliding beneath your shoulder blades, his chest pressing into yours as you inhaled his fresh scent.

"up we go," he lifted you so that your chest was pressed to his, legs wrapped around his hips, chin resting against his shoulder; body limp in his arms. he carried you down the dim hallway of your shared apartment and into the bedroom, where he laid you down onto the fluffy sheets, still unmade from this morning.

he covered you with the sheets as you curled up into a ball on the bed, quickly running into the bathroom and you heard the squeak of the faucet followed by the cascade of water in the tub. he was running you a warm bath; exactly what you needed.

the white noise of running water in the distance was so soothing, you could’ve dozed off for a while. he was taking a bit longer than usual to run this bath, you admitted. so much longer, that you began to wonder what he was doing in there.

he came back into the room with your fluffy white robe and your slippers, bringing a genuine smile to your lips at his thoughtfulness.

“let me help you love,” he helped you sit up, a gentle hand on your lower stomach softly adding pressure in small circular motions. he helped you slide out of your clothes from today, technically still your pajamas since it was an incredibly lazy day.

you noticed his eyes linger on your chest for a second longer, knowing he couldn’t never resist the sight of your soft, bare chest.

he caught your eye and his cheeks turned the slightest hue of scarlet, helping you into your cozy robe; so much better. leaving your underwear on so you wouldn’t stain the sheets, you sat at the edge of the bed.

“ready? here let me carry you there,” his arms were already extended out to you and you weakly laughed.

“yeonjun- i can walk you know…” you scooted to the edge of the bed, and just as you were going to stand up, a cramp hit you right in the guts. the worst one of today.

you immediately curled back into your ball from earlier, and he knew right away when he saw you clutch your stomach.

“oh baby,” he laid next to you, eyebrows furrowed, lips pouting. he knew you needed space in this moment, so he offered his hand as something you could squeeze while your cramps subsided.

his hands were always so soft, so delicate. you even felt bad squeezing them too hard.

“never mind, i probably can’t walk,” your voice came out small, followed by a weak laugh.

“the warm water will feel nice,” he softly pecked your neck, just under your ear.

picking you up softly, barely enough to even know you were being picked up at all if it weren’t for your eyes fluttering open; he carried you through the dim hallway again, gently kicking the bathroom door open.

you expected the lights to be on, but the bathroom was dim; only orange flickers casted against the wall by candlelight.

he carefully set you down back onto your feet and you admired what he had done. the bath was filled with bubbles and rose petals, accompanied by a tray of your favorite snacks and drinks. scented candles flickering enough to light the bath. it was exactly what you needed.

kneeling to the ground, yeonjun held you by your hips to keep you standing while he helped slip off your underwear. his eyes were tender on you, gently tracing your hip bones as he hooked a finger under the elastic of you underwear and slipped it off slowly.

you couldn’t help but feel a gentle heat grow in between your legs. he knew what he was doing, that’s for damn sure.

“c’mon baby i’ll help you in,” he stood up slowly, towering over you, eyes never leaving yours. like they were undressing you, although you were already naked.

he took each of your hands, leading you to the bathtub, there to help you balance as you stepped in, one foot at a time.

the water wasn’t scalding hot, but it was hot enough to make you sigh in relief. a slightly painful but pleasurable burn.

he helped lower you to the water inch by inch until you were totally in, bubbles fluffing up around your body. you inhaled the soothing lavender scent of the steam: he had added lavender oil and a purple bath bomb to the water. he is so special.

he stayed there with you, kneeling by the side of the bathtub. not much was said, but a lot of looks were interchanged. his eyes were tender, small smile on his lips.

he sat crisscross on the rug on the other side of the bath, hands gently sloshing the bubbles over your skin, fingers massaging the knots in your shoulders. his kind energy flowed throughout you.

the hot water is so soothing against your aching belly and tense muscles. every month, he always treats you, gives you what you deserve and no less.

he lathers a loofah up with oatmeal-lavender soap, gently rubbing it in circles against your wet skin. the sensation is so relaxing you could drift off into a deep sleep.

he gently moves a piece of your hair that had fallen out of your updo with the gentle trace of his touch. he is so gentle with you.

you watch him as he is busy washing you up, love sparking in the depths of your eyes. how did you find such an all-around amazing and caring man?

you’re attentive to his hand that is resting on your thigh underwater, rubbing circles on your knee with the swipe of his thumb.

“junie,” your voice echoes from the pink tile of your bathroom. his eyes glow as they meet yours, 100% of his attention on you at an instant.

you don’t say anything else but lean forward to kiss him. he kisses you back with so much passion, like he’s been dying to kiss you this entire time but didn’t want to disrupt your peace.

he gently scrubs the soap around your chest, abandoning the loofah and using his bare hand to rub the slick foam over the soft, tender skin. he knows your boobs are sore because of your period, so he is extra gentle.

the heat immediately returns to your aching core, making the urge even worse. you need him.

“i need you,” you whisper against his lips and he knows what to do before you even speak any further. he sits up, quickly slipping his black tank top off, hair tousled by the material.

“oh baby, i’ll make you feel so good,” he leans into the kiss, sensing his hand trail even closer to your heat, throbbing by now with how badly it ached for him. you’re so wet, even underwater.

his tongue enters your mouth as his fingers meet your bundle of nerves, so sensitive that you slightly jolt with the pressure.

you let your head fall back onto the shower wall as you sigh in bliss and he kisses your neck, rubbing delicious circles over your clit. he knows exactly what pace you need.

“that’s it love, relax,” he kisses the place under your ear as he watches you melt into his touch, mouth slightly agape in pleasure.

your mouth widens into an o-shape when he slowly sinks one finger into you, entering you with ease with how slick you are.

his kisses are soft against your neck, perfect lips caressing your skin. not too rough yet not too faint. his precise kisses make the pleasure all the more intense. his other hand gently fondled your breasts, thumbs soft over your perked-up nipples.

you were climbing up the mountain of pleasure, but some horny monster inside of you needed something more. something bigger.

“yeonjun i… need you so bad,” you managed to speak through gritted teeth. his fingers felt so good but you felt so greedy in this moment. you could sense the orgasm; how much more intense it would be if you were wrapped around his cock.

“whatever you want, my love,” he presses a kiss to your forehead and you sense that a grin had spread across his face at hearing your words.

he stands and your eyes follow, watching him untie the strings of his sweatpants, dropping them to the floor to discover a stiff imprint that sticks out through his boxers.

your legs squeeze together under the water; you just can’t wait to sit on him, feel the delicious stretch. oh you couldn’t wait.

it’s like he’s teasing you with how slowly he removes his boxers, just waiting for his member to spring up and out when he removes them completely. and sure enough, it slaps up against his abdomen, tip dark red and so ready for you.

you scoot over so that he can step into the warm water, watching the bubbles slosh around when he sits all the way down. he helps you maneuver yourself so that he’s sitting up, legs stretched out in the tub and you’re straddling him, chest pressed to his.

like magnets, your lips reunite and continue what they were doing before, just this time you grind against him, bodies doing all the talking.

some of the lavender oil yeonjun added to the water helps you slide against one another’s skin, the feeling simply addictive as you sense his tip nudge against your throbbing clit.

he senses your urgency and pulls back from the kiss, glancing down at himself; he is rock hard but this isn’t about him. it’s about your pleasure. that’s what he’s all about.

“wanna sit down on it? hm?” his words make your heart race and you nod, nearly feverish with just how badly you want him. he guides you with a firm grasp on your waist, helping you lift up your hips as you align yourself with his tip.

sliding down onto him completely bare, you thought you could explode. you felt every single vein, pulse, twitch. it felt so good against your sore and aching walls.

“oh god yeonjun,” you were nearly speechless once you sat down all the way onto him, feeling his tip kiss the depths of your walls. he felt so full, but the stretch was so amazing, such a good ache.

his eyes were full of need but he was so patient and let you take the time to adjust to his size. he wanted you to use him, pleasure yourself with him. his soft fingers over your skin was entrancing, cock pulsating within you even though you hadn't even begun to move.

“knock yourself out baby,” he held your chin with his fingers, kissing your lips gently and you felt you would go insane with the sound of those words echo throughout the bathroom.

with two hands on his chest to keep you stable, you begin to ride him. starting off slow, and then picking up the pace when you adjusted to his size a bit better. god did he feel amazing around your aching walls.

the eye contact you made could make you orgasm all on its own. his fierce eyes staring up at you and boarding into your soul, mouth agape as he moaned and encouraged you to ride his cock until your hearts content.

he knew a good orgasm would help and oh god are you close. he had already edged you slightly before this, the build-up was so satisfying.

you were in a daze; body still a bit limp and weak from all of the pain you experienced today yet you rode him with passion, feeling your entire body melt around him. he sensed your walls tense up and you threw your head back, eyes shut as you felt his every pulse and throb.

you bounced on him more aggressively now and in his eyes, you were the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. the way your head was thrown back pleasuring yourself with him, your pretty moans echoing throughout the dim bathroom, candlelight gleaming against your skin like silk.

lavender bath water sloshed and some spilled over and out but neither of you cared. he just watched you and guided you with a firm grip on your waist and you climbed to your orgasm until it hit you like a truck.

a few more rolls of your hips and his tip massaged against your g-spot one last time until a loud slew of moans echoed throughout the bathroom and your body tensed. it was an earth-shattering orgasm. your muscles fluttered all around him sporadically and it drove him to his climax, catching his moans with a deep kiss as he spilled inside of you.

the sensation was so warm and fuzzy within you so much so that your body just collapsed onto his chest. every ache and pain completely left your abdomen and you swore you were in heaven.

his arms wrapped around you as his soft lips kissed your forehead repeatedly, whispering sweet things into your hair as you huffed in unison. he was your everything.

~

the night went as follows: he cleaned you up and wrapped you in a warm linen towel, carrying you to bed where he helped you into some fresh jammies (his oversized t-shirt and basketball shorts). of course, he brought you your soup and a heating pad just in case, along with some of your favorite sea salt chocolate and some ice cream <3 you both watched movies the rest of the night, and you knew he'd help your every need, no matter how messy it got ;)

author's note: thank you so much for reading!!! and thank you so so much for over 900 followers and for the endless support, you each mean so much to me <33333

[allaboutsturns]

ɪ ᴡɪꜱʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ

matthew sturniolo x reader

warnings/content: angst, breakup, arguing, name calling, cheating, crash.

summary: you and matt had been dating for almost a year and a half when he begins to grow distant and something completely and utterly heartbreaking is revealed.

• 1:20am

i shifted on the couch as exhaustion took over my body. where is he.. i thought to myself as i fought the sleep that was taking over my body.

the past couple weeks my boyfriend, matt, had grown distant and started coming home later and later with each passing day. considering how my last relationship went, my trust was starting to falter. i was starting to have doubts about whether or not he was telling the truth when he would explain where he had been.

my body perked up when i heard the sound of the front door unlocking which was soon followed by a slam and footsteps stumbling clumsily up the stairs. i looked towards the top of the stairs adjacent to the front door.

matt’s body appeared and i studied his drunken movements before examining his face. his eyes were half shut and the bags that accompanied them were incredibly apparent. his lips were slightly parted and his breathing was heavy, “heyyy baaaabyyy,” he said with a stupid smile and slurred words.

i scoffed quietly to myself, “you’re drunk.” i said before standing up and walking towards him. this was the fifth time in a row that he came home late and drunk. he nodded slowly and raised a hand to try and rub the sleep from his eyes.

i reached a hand up and placed it on his cheek, his body subconsciously leaning into my touch as he closed his eyes. his face was warm and his cheeks were painted red as well as the tip of his nose. his breath stunk of alcohol and i shook my head.

“love…” i muttered quietly, “this is the fifth time this week,” i pulled my hand away from his cheek and pinched the bridge of my nose shutting my eyes tightly. he shrugged and let out a sigh, “it is what it is,” he slurred.

i looked at him, my eyebrows furrowed, “matt, what have you been doing,” i ask, trying not to sound accusatory.

“drinking, hooking up with girls, the fun stuff,” he said looking directly into my eyes. he knew how my past relationship ended and how much it ruined me. he was my best friend throughout it and was there for me and said i never deserved that treatment.

with the confession i just received, i felt my heart pang as the tears started to well in my eyes, “what..?” i whispered so quietly i was almost positive he didn’t hear.

“you heard me,” he groaned before starting to walk away. i reached for his wrist, grabbing it tightly and pulling him to look at me

“what the FUCK matthew.” i growled as tears streamed from my eyes, staining my cheeks. the man i loved. my boyfriend of almost a year and a half has been cheating on me.

matt yanked his arm away from my grip, his expression now angry, “don’t fucking touch me, bitch!” he shouted in my face.

i flinched away crossing my arms as tightly into me as i could, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. sounds of sobs escaped me before i looked up into his eyes with my own red, puffy eyes.

“fuck you. i told you when this relationship started that i wasn’t going to let anyone walk all over me ever again, and you just confirmed that you’ve been doing exactly that.” i squeezed out, my tone serious, lowering my arms to my side, trying to make myself look bigger.

he laughed in my face, “yeah, okay, sure. fucking sensitive,” he scoffed, whispering the last part under his breath, almost as if he didn’t believe a single word i just said. he started walking towards our bedroom again but paused when he heard the jingle of my car keys as i grabbed them off the counter.

“where are you going? just come to bed.” he said, looking at me. my back was turned to him because i knew that if i looked at him i would do exactly that. go to bed with him and completely disregard what he had been doing to me.

“no matthew. this is it, i can’t do this with you. our relationship..” my voice breaks as the pain in my neck grew, “our friendship.. is over.” i sighed as tears continued to fall from my tired eyes.

matt’s body shrunk into itself. he felt like a complete idiot, like a terrible person. he reached out a hand for me but ultimately decided to retract it back to his side. tears welled in his eyes, threatening to drop.

“whatever. leave then..” he said, trying to sound angry and dismissive. please don’t… he thought to himself as a tear finally escaped the prison it was trapped in. i knew him too well, i knew that his own heart just broke too, i could hear it in his voice and feel it in the room.

“i wish you the best for the rest of your life, matthew.” i muttered, my back still turned to the love of my life. every bone in my body was fighting to stay as i started to walk down the stairs to the front door. all i wanted to do was hug him and kiss him and tell him it was going to be okay even though it wasn’t going to be okay and even though i was the one who was wronged.

i reached the bottom of the stairs and unlocked the front door, my hand hovering over the doorknob for a moment as i hesitated. i listened closely and soon enough heard soft sobs followed by a thud, signaling that matt had fallen to the floor, defeated.

i knew that woke nick and chris up and knew that matthew would be in good hands, so finally after a battle with myself, i opened the front door and walked out into the cool night air.

once i reached my car, i slowly got into the drivers seat and shut the door behind me, “fuck..” i whispered as sobs erupted from me. my body convulsed with each sharp breath and my head ached from the excess pain that my heart was too overwhelmed to handle.

i pressed the button that activated the engine of my car. i put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway with blurred vision. once i was out of the driveway i put the car into drive and sped off with a screech of my tires against the asphalt. i saw nick run out into the road in my rear-view mirror but i kept driving, the speed of my car steadily increasing.

with a jerk to the wheel, i raised a hand up to my face, trying to wipe away the tears that failed to end. my movements were frantic and unpredictable.

when i finally removed my hand from my face, i noticed a stop sign that i was about to run. i slammed on my breaks but ended up in the middle of the intersection.

i paused for a moment, looking at my lap. it was late so i didn’t expect anyone to be out really. that was until the headlights of a semi-truck illuminated the inside of my car. i looked up and to my left and saw the large truck approaching. i removed my foot from the break and hovered it over the gas pedal, hesitating. the loud blaring of the trucks horn snapped me back into reality and i slammed on the gas.

i was too late though. the large truck clipped the back of my car, sending me spinning across the road and into another car which acted as a ramp, pushing my car onto its side and then onto the roof.

all i could hear was a loud ringing and the sound of hazards and screaming, my boys screaming was most prominent, as they bolted towards the intersection. nick hadn’t gone inside when i was driving off and instead just watched. chris had eventually joined him as well as matt.

they had just witnessed the whole thing. i tried to move, tried to scream, tried to cry, but i couldn’t. i sit there, blood rushing to my head. my hair hanging down and laying against my windshield, the airbags against my face.

slowly i slipped out of consciousness as blood dripped from my body and onto the floor.

divider by: @/Kafekitsune

hi again i posted yesterday but had this idea.. i might make a part 2 tbh. maybe even turn it into a series ooooOoOoo! i’m a slut for angst btw so there’s gonna be a lot of that hereee!! i love fluff too though so u guys will be fed good i promise :>

- ace <3

[screeching-bunny]

I’m not sure if you accept thirst asks, but if you do, then, goshhhh imagine giving ‘it’ to one of your concubines and they just keep repeating the words “Thank you thank you thank you” as they suck and lap at your 🫢. They repeat the words like a prayer, almost as if they were worshipping a god (you).

But if don’t accept thirst asks then please feel free to ignore if this ever makes you uncomfortable.

Yandere! Concubine Harem Asks 1

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’ NSFW!!! MINORS DNI. This is my first time writing nsfw content so it’s kinda bad 💀.

In a magnificent office filled with many luxuries sat a grand ruler by their desk surrounded by towering piles of paperwork. The ruler's regal figure was draped in a robe of royal purple, adorned with gold trimmings, symbolizing their authority and power. As the sun's rays filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a warm glow upon the room, you sighed wearily, with brows furrowed with the weight of your responsibilities. All was quiet but if someone listened closely they could hear the faint sound of slurping.

“Can’t you be quieter? Can’t you see I’m trying to get some of my work done!?”

Beneath you and between your legs was your consort on his knees. He was undressed and was as naked as the day he was born. The man was known for his fierceness and cold heart was currently panting under you like a dog. The sounds of gasps and moans could be heard coming from the man. Currently his lips were red and swollen from the rough treatment that you have given him. Saliva dripped down his mouth as he was desperate to have a taste of you. He sucked and licked as if you were the only source of water he had in years. There was a look of desperateness in his eyes, it made you chuckle at how pathetic he looked. A constant mumbling of “thank yous” came from him each time he had a chance to breathe air.

The consort, whose name you couldn’t have bothered to remember, was as hard as a rock. Having enough of how slow this was going you decided to throw him down onto a couch. You made your way on top of him, positioned yourself, and slammed down right onto his member.

“Ahhh, agh!!”

Tears leaked from his eyes as he began to tremble. Your arms were pressed firmly into the cushions as you made your fierce movements as he was beneath you. He was huge and swollen within you. You began to rock your hips continuously down on him. His breathing became more harsh and stuttered. You leaned down and began to nibble down on his bottom lip. The kiss was very strong and aggressive. When your consort needed to breathe you made sure to slam your lips back on top of his again. His hands on your waist while your tongues intertwined with each other. Devastating pleasure overcame your consort. His eyes were hazy and you could feel a pump of warm liquid form inside of you. When you released from the kiss his mouth was red and swollen with a string of saliva attaching the two of you.

“Ah, ah, agh!!”

“I can’t believe you came from a kiss. Ugh whatever, a few of my advisors will be here any minute. If they catch us doing this, I won't be letting you off easy tonight.”

It was safe to say that the advisors were never allowed entrance into your study due to… your other matters. However, the next day whenever the maids came near that room, their faces would instantly turn bright red. The sounds that came from that room yesterday were definitely something else and they couldn’t help but blush from it. They just couldn’t believe it went on for an entire day! The good thing was that at least the maids that were in charge of cleaning up your mess got a massive raise but holy cow did you really have to break a sofa?!?! The only thing that they could do was pray for your poor consort.

[lialacleaf]

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 3

Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 chapter4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Reader’s POV

You weren’t sure why Ghost had to drive you out to your new home. He’d been insistent on seeing you there safely rather than letting quite literally anyone else do so. In fact, he’d almost seemed jumpy, stating that Simon wouldn’t like strangers near his home, and that you ought to keep that in mind.

How you were supposed to feel like this was anything but an elaborate plot to murder you and scatter your remains in the woods was unfathomable to you, but Ghost trusted Simon. While you weren’t entirely sure where you stood with the Lieutenant, he’d been the only one to stay back with you and ensure you got out alive.

“When will he be home?” You asked as Ghost focused on the road ahead. He’d given no indication how far the drive would be, and you’d left base about forty minutes ago.

“Tomorrow,” Ghost answered plainly, giving no indication as to what Simon was doing that would have him preoccupied elsewhere.

You let out a soft hum and leaned back in your seat. The humvee would occasionally jostle you, and you hissed at the pain in your knee. The pain medicine was beginning to wear off, but you were too afraid to bring it to Ghost’s attention.

Instead, you closed your eyes, and focused on your next steps. You would need to get some new clothes, having little more than the clothes you’d been sent off in. Maybe if Simon wasn’t too opposed to taking you into town, you could visit the second-hand store.

When you were young, your mother used to take you to pick out patterned tablecloths that had been donated, and would take them home and see you little sundresses.

You recalled a white one with frills that you wore down to the neighbor’s strawberry field, and hadn't lasted the morning before it was an unfortunate mess of red strawberry juice and mud after you had burrowed beneath the strawberry patch and clawed the fruit off the vine like a little, white mouse taking refuge in the cool dirt.

Your mother had called you a little troll for your bad behavior, and made you wear the stained up dress to school anyway.

The Humvee jostled you again, knocking your knee against the vehicle, and you nearly choked on the breath of air you inhaled. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Ghost was anything but gentle, even in his driving.

Simon’s POV

He left you settled on his large, plush couch, your only bag on the floor by the door. The cabin was a single story, so he doubted you’d have much trouble maneuvering around as long as you had your crutches.

He’d given you his cell number, not that you knew it was his. You looked…lost as he walked out the door, and if he didn’t have work to finish for price before his leave, he’d have been tempted to tear the mask off his face and assure you that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone.

It was still hard for him to comprehend that he was now a married man, even if this had been entirely his plan. It didn’t occur to him until you were seated on his sofa, looking as if you felt out of place in your own home that he didn’t know what he was doing.

He had a rough idea of how he wanted things to be. You’d get to know Simon, a second chance for him to redeem himself in your eyes as someone more patient and gentle, and with time you’d forget about the harsh treatment of Lieutenant Ghost. He didn’t try to fool himself into believing that you could ever love Ghost, but maybe he could convince you to love Simon.

The hour drive back to base didn’t feel real. It was still early, and he needed a cup of tea, something he would have preferred to indulge in alone, but alas…

“How’s married life?” Soap asked with a poorly disguised grin, and Ghost glowered at him from the sink.

“Not now, Johnny,” he warned, rolling his eyes. He hadn’t necessarily wanted Soap to know, but he’d also wanted a second opinion on his decision to offer you a bloody marriage contract.

Johnny had thought he was pulling a joke, until he’d seen it with his own two eyes. Once Simon had rather stiffly explained that he had some very confusing feelings for you that wouldn’t allow him to abandon you, the Scotsman had patted him on the shoulder and told him he was a good man. A bloody mad one too, but that was besides the point.

“Difficult drive with the Mrs.?” He asked, that grin still ever present on his face.

“Something like that.” Not at all like that. More accurately he simply didn’t want to leave you there all alone.

“Cut her some slack, L.T., one minute your her boss, the next your her husband, probably a real doozy for the lass.”

“She doesn’t know,” he said softly as Johnny popped a biscuit in his mouth.

“Doesn’t know what?” He asked over the food in his mouth.

“Doesn’t know she married me.”

The Scottsman choked on his biscuit. “Bloody hell!” He exclaimed, wiping a palm across his face. “Ghost, you’ve gotta be yanking my leg here, mate!”

Ghost shook his head.

“Who does she think she married?” Johnny asked, eyes blown wide.

The Lieutenant shrugged. “Simon Riley.”

Johnny sputtered for a moment and shook his head. “That’s so wrong, Mate. She’s gonna be bloody pissed when she finds out-“

“She’s not gonna find out, Johnny,” Ghost hissed. “She’s gotta forget about all of that. Move on with her life.”

“People don’ just forget that kinda trauma, Simon. She nearly lost her leg,” Johnny said.

Simon sighed, pushing his mask up over his nose so he could sip his tea. “Let me worry about my wife, Johnny.”

It was six in the morning when Simon was finally relieved from his post. He found himself spacing out all too often on the road home, pulled out of his thoughts only when the asphalt turned to gravel.

He liked having his home so secluded. He hoped you liked it too. He’d stopped for groceries shortly after leaving base, planning on having breakfast ready before you woke up. He probably should have paid attention before to how you liked your eggs, but it was too late for that now. He’d just have to guess and go with it.

He pulled up to the cabin, the gravel beneath the car grumbling a greeting to his return as he slowed to a stop.

Simon took a deep breath, hooked his fingers beneath his balaclava, and pulled the mask off before stuffing it in his duffel bag. He unpacked the groceries, storing most of the meat in the deep freezer in his garage before finally entering his house.

He kicked off his work boots at the door, his eyes scanning over the room as if he expected things to be out of place. He paused, however when he noted your small form curled up right where he’d left you, your bag still by the door and your crutches against the wall. You were curled in on yourself, likely trying to keep warm as he’d forgotten to turn on the heat for you.

Shit. He’d left you alone for hours in a cold, unfamiliar place. You were supposed to have slept in the bed. He’d expected you to acclimate yourself over the past twenty-four hours, and instead you had curled up on the couch and succumbed to an uncomfortable sleep.

That wouldn’t do.

He moved to your side as quietly as possible, kneeling next to you on the tan rug. His palm gently brushed the side of your head as he watched you closely. “Y/n?” he murmured, his hand moving to squeeze your shoulder.

You gave no sign that you were awake, and Simon sighed, lifting you up as carefully as he could. Once you were properly tucked into bed, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

His shoulders sagged, and with a soft groan he leaned back into the mattress, only just now noticing that he only had one pillow and you were using it. Not that he minded. He needed to take stock of just how unprepared he was for this endeavor.

He switched between staring at the ceiling, and staring at you. You didn’t move much in your sleep, which was a relief. You did, however, let out a soft whine, alerting him to the fact that he’d rested you on the side of your bad knee.

He frowned, internally scolding himself for not thinking of it sooner. It was easy to roll you onto your back, but the action caused you to stir, and Simon stiffened.

~

It must have been early when you woke, because the room was bathed in a soft glow from the sun barely rising outside the window.

It took you only a moment to realize you no longer dozing on the couch. Your eyes settled on the massive figure beside you, traveling up his waist to his chest and shoulders, before finally finding his face.

Simon, or rather you assumed it was Simon, had ruffled blonde hair, with deep set brown eyes and a strong jaw. Handsome for a soldier. You’d expected him to be plain. You were very wrong.

You sat up slowly, and he watched you like a hawk. You expected him to greet you with something, anything, even if it was just snapping at you for crawling into his bed, not that you remembered doing so. Instead he simply stared at you.

“What time is it?” you asked softly, your voice hoarse from sleep.

“Almost eight,” he murmured, and you blinked in surprise. He had an English accent, very mancunian, just like Ghost’s. The similarity was actually rather uncanny. “You can go back to sleep, or I can make breakfast.”

This felt very strange. You were in a stranger’s house, in their bed and said stranger was offering to make you breakfast as if you weren’t an intruder. You felt tears prick your eyes, suddenly feeling very out of place.

Simon’s brow dipped, a look of panic crossing his face as he tried to figure out what he’d done this time as tears spilled from your eyes.

“Y/n?” He asked, a shaking hand brushing your hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry, this is just…really overwhelming-“

Simon was quick to pull you against his chest, pulling a soft gasp from you.

“You’re safe, I promise. M’ not gonna let anything happen to ya,�� he murmured, those deep brown eyes gazing at you as if he’d loved you for a lifetime.

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his response, your body slumping as your head dropped onto his heavily muscled shoulder.

“Why…why are you doing this for me?” You whispered.

“You made a sacrifice for one of my mates. You could have gotten killed. He felt responsible, wanted to see you taken care of, and…I wanted to help,” he said gently, stroking the back of your head.

You sniffled softly. “Is Ghost important to you?” You asked, gazing up at him curiously. Simon stiffened, unable to hold your gaze.

“Let’s leave the topic of Ghost alone for now, yeah? Give you some time to recover from what happened.”

You tilted your head at him in confusion, but nodded in agreement. It was his house after all. If he didn’t want to bring up work then so be it.

“You’re in good hands here, I promise.”

~

Two weeks went by, and you found that it wasn’t as difficult to adjust to Simon’s presence as you expected. He worked on base twice a week when he wasn’t on mission, and spent the rest of his time caring for you.

You couldn’t help but feel like a pet that was being spoiled more than it deserved. He’d bought you one of those nice, memory foam pillows, despite your insistence that you could just sleep on his large, plushy couch.

Truthfully you were a little frightened at the idea of sharing his bed, but he kept a respectful distance away from you, and there wasn’t even the mention of sexual expectations.

He slept on his back, or facing the door, something you assumed was an ingrained behavior.

He let you sleep in the mornings, but once you’d had breakfast he was practically dragging you out of the cabin to take a walk with your crutches, encouraging you not to stay in bed all day.

You supposed it was a good thing, as you’d likely become depressed if left to your own devices. He took you to town only once to find some new clothes, and gave you a very displeased look when you tried to insist on the thrift shop rather than the department store he pulled the truck up to.

“No wife of mine is walking around in a stranger’s hand-me-downs”

With that, he’d helped you inside and gotten you an array of loose pants and comfortable tops to spend your recovery in.

He was certainly committed to his promise of taking care of you.

He didn’t talk much, and you still found that a little unsettling, but his lack of words was matched by his aptitude for actions, making sure you didn’t so much as lift a finger unless you adamantly wanted to.

You hadn’t told your parents about the arrangement, and had been worrying just how you were going to go about keeping the situation on the down low. They’d call eventually, and you had to think of something to keep them from going into a panic.

You watched Simon from the corner of your eye as he started the truck, having helped you into your seat and gotten you buckled moments ago.

You weren’t sure if he was anxious about your check up, or if he was simply displeased at the thought of having you back on base. He seemed to dislike the idea very much if his hesitancy to bring you back to Dr. Radcliffe was anything to go by, but the doctor had insisted on it as he was the one to handle your knee surgery to begin with.

“Simon?” You called as the gravel road disappeared and gave way to paved asphalt. “Do you think Ghost will be available today? I never got to thank him for everything,” you said softly.

Simon tensed, and you couldn’t help but frown a little. “I’ll ask him,” he assured you, taking your hand in his and giving it a light squeeze.

A smile lit up your face, the first one he’d seen since the ordeal at the warehouse, and his heart aches for it. “Thank you, Simon.”

He nodded in response, but his stomach was in knots. He didn’t deserve your thanks. Not as Ghost, and not as Simon. Maybe someday, when you had forgotten all about what had happened to you, and lived a carefree life. Maybe then he could deserve it.

~

“I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely pleased with the results so far,” Dr. Radcliffe said as he looked over your x-rays.

“What does that mean?” Simon asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is it bad?” You asked as you sat on the paper covered table.

“It means unless we get you set up with a physical therapist you’ll be on those crutches for the rest of your life.” The doctor explained.

Your eyes widened, and you were about to exclaim that you couldn’t possibly afford that when Simon cut in.

“What are her chances with the physical therapy?” He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Slim, but better. Might have a limp, but definitely more mobility.” Radcliffe assured him.

“I can’t afford Physical Therapy,” you cut in, and the two men glanced down at you.

“Yes, we can,” Simon said gently, brushing your hair behind your ear. You simply gaped at him in astonishment. PT was expensive, especially for such an involved injury. You couldn’t expect him to pay for that, but the warning glance he sent your way said that the two of you would not be discussing it now.

“I’ll send out a recommendation for the practitioner closest to you.” Radcliffe said. “However I’d still like to see you back here a month from now.” You nodded, and Simon ‘tisked’ in response.

Thanks, doc,” you said, offering him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

~

Simon left you to your lunch in the mess hall with the excuse that he had some paperwork to do, and you didn’t question him once he set a burger in front of you. He was quickly finding that a good meal was all he needed to keep you in a good mood.

He felt ridiculous, slipping into his office and shucking off his civilian clothes in exchange for his uniform and mask, before turning around and thundering back to the mess hall.

He didn’t plan on this double-life mess, but he was going to put an end to it. His eyes landed on your little form happily munching away on your lunch, and he let out a deep sigh, clearing his throat as he approached you.

“Ghost?” You looked up in surprise, wiping the condiments off the corner of your mouth on a napkin. He always saw you use your shirt sleeve, and he felt a swell of pride that you liked the little green sweater he’d gotten you enough to preserve its newness.

“Simon said you wanted to see me?” He asked gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded vigorously. “I wanted to thank you for your help. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise-“

“This is what you called me down here for?” He asked, and your face fell. He felt the absence of your smile as an ache in his chest.

“I…I just thought…you’d want to know that I’m safe,” you said.

Simon felt his heart swell at the words. It was a relief to hear you say it, and it made what he was about to do even harder.

“One less thing to worry about then,” he stated grumpily, turning on his heel with a roll of his eyes and leaving you to gape at his back.

~

He felt like a kid in a play, switching costumes depending on his role in the moment. Price raised a brow when Simon passed his door four separate times in two different outfits.

He could have sworn he heard Johnny mutter “you don’t want to know.” To his captain. They were going to give him hell for this.

He was nearing the mess hall when his phone chimed the very specific sound he’d set for you, and was quick to open his messages.

I want to go home.

He wasn’t sure if he should be glad you viewed the cabin as home, or worried about the damage control he was going to have to do.

He entered the mess hall, preparing himself for whatever state of disarray you’d be in, only you weren’t there. His head whipped around the room, looking for any sight of you, but you had seemingly vanished.

Shit.

Where are you?

He rushed out of the mess hall, looking for any sign of your presence. He didn’t see your crutches, so he could only assume you’d left on your own.

I’m in the truck.

He let out a breath of relief, pulling the keys from his pocket. He probably would have put the whole base on lockdown if you hadn’t replied.

He made quick strides to the parking lot, opening the door to the driver's seat and hauling himself in as quickly as possible.

“Everything alright?” He knew it wasn’t, but it felt polite to ask anyway.

“M’ fine,” you mumbled, leaning your head against the door.

Simon bit his lip as he watched you wilt. You looked as if the life had been sapped out of you. Maybe he’d been too harsh.

“Y/n?” He called, placing a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t acknowledge it and he sighed. “Let’s go home,” he mumbled.

You were silent the entire drive back, and Simon was genuinely starting to question if he’d broken you. You had just gotten some rather bleak news.

“We could stop at that bakery in town,” he offered, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.

“I’m not really in the mood.”

Simon pursed his lips, his brow ticking slightly. He was trying to make things better, why were you fighting against him? Ghost was supposed to be the villain here, not him.

Your mood only seemed to worsen as the day went on, and Simon couldn’t wrap his head around it. At least until you snapped.

“Can I please just do one thing for myself!”

He’d just wanted to take up your dinner, shooing you out of the kitchen so he could do so when you decided you’d had enough.

“You do everything for me. I’m not a child, I’m a grown woman! For fuck’s sake it’s like I’m a prisoner or something!”

Your tirade was followed by a pathetic hobble down the hallway and slam of the bathroom door. He was fairly certain he heard muffled sobs before the tub faucet was turned on to drown them out.

Simon crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter with a frown. You weren’t just upset about Ghost, he realized. You were upset about your leg, about the feeling of losing your autonomy, and his dismissal of you in the mess hall had been the proverbial cherry on top.

You had said you felt safe, but what you really felt was stifled.

He let out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair. It seemed while keeping you in bubble wrap suited him just fine, it was slowly eating away at you.

This wasn’t what he had wanted for you. He’d wanted you to be able to do things that made you happy, not be stuck doing nothing at all.

You may have been small, and fragile compared to Ghost, but you had still been a soldier, and it was something you took pride in. He hadn’t meant for you to lose purpose, but if you were really going to be happy here, he needed to help you find a new one.

~

You felt terrible. You shouldn’t have snapped at Simon. You should have just calmly explained that you needed him to give you some space, but after Ghost had reminded you just how useless, how much of a burden he saw you as, it had triggered the rage that had been building in you for a while now.

None of this was fair. You had done your job well, despite being at a higher risk, you’d put the well being of your teammates above yourself to the very end, and your mind was still just as sharp.

Despite all this, it seemed both Ghost and Simon thought you were useless. The difference was Simon didn’t seem to tack worthless onto the list of things you were as well.

You didn’t feel right sleeping in his bed that night, or taking advantage of any of the kindnesses he’d given you for that matter. You were tempted to go sleep outside but it was freezing. Instead you curled up under a blanket with one of Simon’s chess books and read until you fell asleep.

At some point you heard him get up and put on a kettle for tea, before venturing out through the back door. You pretended to still be asleep if only to avoid the impending confrontation.

You eventually heard the telltale sound of a saw in his work shed, and supposed the coast was clear to make a cup of tea.

You went back to reading your book, not sure what else to do, until Simon’s footsteps sounded on the back porch, followed by the door opening. You tried not to stiffen when he stopped right in front of you. Maybe he’d been out there making the coffin he was going to bury you in for being an ungrateful little-

“Could use a hand if you’re not busy.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. “With what?” You asked skeptically.

He held out a hand to you, a gentle smile spreading on his face. “You’ll see.”

He walked slowly, acting as a crutch so you wouldn’t need to get them out of the kitchen. He led you to a portion of the yard that had been sectioned off with wooden planks. There was a chair seated beside it, along with a small shovel and a rake.

“What’s this?” You asked as he helped lower you into your seat.

“Garden box. Gonna start growing stuff,” he explained. “Fresh tea is good for you, especially in the colder months.”

He pulled a pair of gloves on and handed you a slightly smaller pair, along with the handheld shovel. “You can start pullin’ dirt out of those bags and droppin’ it in here,” ge explained.

“Wouldn’t this go faster if you just dumped these in yourself?” You asked as he picked up the rake.

Simon shook his head. “You could use some fresh air, and you might as well accomplish somethin’ instead of sittin’ like a bump on a log.”

You could tell he was excited about his little task by the way his accent got thicker, and you had to admit it was a little cute.

“Fair enough,” you murmured, shoveling dirt into the box for him to spread out with the rake. It was a little mindless, but the sound of the birds was nice, and the sun slowly rising in the sky casted a warm glow on your face.

Once you’d emptied two bags of dirt Simon went inside to grab you both a bottle of water before planting the seeds. He handed you the bottle, and a little packet of electrolyte mix, but he didn’t mix it for you, and instead went about opening the little seed packets after having downed his own water.

You had to admit that Simon was quite the sight in that tight gray shirt with a shovel in his hands. You bet he looked even better with a rifle.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” you murmured as he passed you a small packet of seeds. Simon paused, looking up at you in surprise, before nodding at you.

“I…I’m sorry that I wasn’t paying attention before,” he began, taking a step towards you and cupping your cheek with his large hand. “I see you now,” he murmured softly, bending down to place a kiss on your forehead.

You let out a sigh of relief, leaning against him as your arms wrapped around his middle. “Thank you, Simon,” you whispered as he returned your embrace.

AN: wow this ended up being long~ Lots of drama to come!!!

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[mx-pastelwriting]

Ghost HC - Taking a nap in the Papa's lap while they work

Papa Emeritus x GN! Reader

Summary: Taking a nap in the Papa's lap while they work.

Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Lap Sitting, Napping/Sleeping

Characters: Primo, Secondo, Terzo, Copia

Primo

- Very open and used to it, being the eldest of his brothers having experience soothing someone to sleep, especially in his lap. It had been years since then, as his brothers were no longer little.

- Surprised at first, looking up from his work, seeing your tired face welcoming you with open arms, with mixed feelings of love and guilt from working late, leaving you sleepless in a cold bed.

- Wrapping you up in his warm arms, gently patting your back, patiently waiting for sleep to take effect. Once asleep, he returns to work, writing quietly, planting kisses on your head with every page turn.

- Giving a dirty look to anyone who entered his office, sister, papa, or ghoul all get the same treatment, even kicking those who were too loud out. Even with the ones who were lucky to stay, he ignored their stares while forcing them to talk in a whisper.

- Once finished with his work, feeling another pang of guilt having to wake you, choosing to do so with soft kisses while cupping your face whispering sweet Italian nothings.

Primo sighed at the loud noise of his office door being opened, seeing Terzo's head poke in, greeted with the eldest crooked stare. The stare did little to his younger brother, watching as he threw a folder on the desk with a loud smack.

"You haven't changed one bit, brother." Putting down his pen at Terzo's words, giving a harder stare to his brother's smug face. "Did they get a bedtime story too?" he says lastly before rushing out of the office to avoid Primo's protective wrath.

However, as you stirred against his chest, the wrath swiftly dissipated, causing the papa to forget the stack of work before him and embrace you tightly, patiently waiting for sleep to return.

-

Secondo

- Would have to talk him into it or beg, as he always hated when Terzo would fall asleep on his shoulder when they were little, but seeing your tired face, he folds so fast. Spending his evening in the ministry's front room, sat on the long couch next to the stained-glass window, looking over sister's response to his filings.

- Feeling your presence behind the packet of papers, seeing you wrapped in a blanket, begging. With a loud sigh, picking up the stack of papers on his lap, throwing them to the floor.

- Even when cuddling in bed, he sighs, acting slightly annoyed, but secretly loves every minute of your sleeping face lying comfortably on his chest. Placing one hand on your back, caressing lightly while continuing to look over paperwork.

- Wouldn't bother looking at who passed by, sister or papa, but always looked down at you when Siblings of Sin walked by, whispering amongst each other about the sight. The reputation of Secondo was one of many rumors, yet here you were sparking new ones.

- Fails to even finish his work, being so comfortable, papers still in hand as he nods off. Waking up from his snores, leaving you with the job of putting the papa to bed.

Waking to the loud rumble of snores, sitting up in the papa's lap, seeing the melted sleeping face of Secondo. Holding back a laugh as his mouth hung agape, looking around, spotting the papers that were loosely clutching in his hand.

Removing the files from his hand to the other side of the couch before thinking of how to wake him. Cupping the papa's face lightly, only getting to plant a single kiss before quickly waking up, smiling at his confused state. Moving off Secondo's lap, slowly getting used to standing, taking his hand and pulling up, holding back a joke about his old bones.

-

Terzo

- Does not understand when first being asked, assuming you mean something else that involves his lap. Only once you climb onto his lap and cuddle up does he understand with a small "Oh." Though it is somewhat new to him, only having your past nights together will give him an idea.

- Having stayed in the ministry's library for the whole morning ordered by sister to reread the teachings, so when you appear, he's so happy, kicking the book aside.

- A bit disappointed you didn't take him away from all the work, but nonetheless, he holds you close. Wrapping his arms around you while holding the book up against your back, resting against his chest, having a racing heartbeat to fall asleep to.

- Sitting in the back corner of the library, liking for people to have the thrill of finding him, just to tease them when they do. So only his ghouls ever came across the sight, but they cared very little about their papa's antics.

- Lasting only thirty minutes before putting down the book, turning his attention to you. Lovingly admiring your sleeping face, tempted to shower you with kisses, though holding back, not wanting to wake you even if it meant spending the night sitting in the quiet library.

Gently, Terzo's hand glided up and down your back, feeling the soft fabric that covered it, using both arms to hold you close and safe, not caring for the book of teachings.

Being ready to take sister's scolding later, her words pushed out of his mind in place of you. Looking softly with his two-toned eyes at your smushed face that lay against his chest. Imagining you heard every breath and race of his heart from your presence alone, carefully placing a kiss atop your head, causing a stir of movement, quickly the papa held his breath, fearing he'd woken you.

-

Copia

- Agrees shyly to the ask, a bit overwhelmed, feeling you on his lap, making it harder to concentrate. In the past, having many cuddle parties with the rats and him, but this was very different, being so closely intimate with no moves to escalation.

- Interrupting his work of looking over the new tour dates, sat on the living room couch late in the evening. Thinking it was time for dinner when you came to him only stopping from getting up when you asked.

- Confusingly agrees, only realizing what he agreed to when you sit down, hesitantly taking you in his arms, struggling a bit to go back to reading. When used to the loving action, he rests his head atop yours, tempted to fall asleep himself.

- A bit embarrassed if someone came across the sight, wanting to move in his seat, but warned not to by your stirs. After a few times getting used to being seen in such a tender position, even by sister, he still squirms a bit, but her smile reassures him.

- In the end, when sister comes in to call you both for dinner, she withdraws after seeing not wanting to interrupt, instead having one of his ghouls bring up some plates to your shared room.

Slipping out of the cold bed, sleepily waddling out of the bedroom into the living room, met the sight of Copia nose-deep in tour dates.

"Cardi," your voice turns his attention, slowly putting down the stapled papers with eyes that soften at the sight of you. "Can I take a nap with you?" quickly, nodding to your question, climbing onto his lap, lying against his chest.

Tangling up his limbs with yours, then planting a kiss on your cheek before finding a way to go back to reading smiling at the sound of your snores.

Lightly patting your back while reading along the lines, not hearing sister's heels echoing down the hall. Spooked by the sound of a knock and the front door opening, sister's head in the opening before quickly retreating, seeing the sight of you two.

-

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @littlebitchsposts @urlocalfanficwriter

[damn-stark]

Bestiee!not sure if the request are open but if they are can you do one with choso x reader where she accidentally makes him a bit mad and he decides to give her silent treatment then goes to sleep and when he wakes up he finds her asleep on the floor on his side of bed with tears stains of her cheeks and he just feels horrible for doing that and making her cry (make him cry eheh)

Forgive me

Warning- slight angst? Swearing, FLUFF

————

It was just a stupid fight. It was really, really fucking stupid now that you think about it, but Choso is really mad.

Not in the way where he’s yelling, he barely raised his voice when you were arguing. He’s not throwing things either, when he’s that angry it’s only when it’s about his father. He’s just quiet which is the worst thing possible. And yes, he’s a quiet person, but he’s not talking to you, he’s ignoring you.

You hate it, you fucking hate that he’s not talking to you, that he avoids eye contact and doesn’t want to even sit next to you. It hurts, it…really hurts your heart.

“Choso, please I’m sorry, please talk to me,” you plead as you can’t take the agony, you can’t take him being distant. “At least tell me you want space. Just please don’t keep this going, please,” you plead in a shaky voice.

Choso lifts his eyes to finally look at you, but the moment you lock eyes he quickly averts his gaze and gets up, making you think he’ll finally say something. Anything would ease some of your concerns.

However, Choso just walks away and leaves you standing there facing the spot where he once was.

You’re tempted to go after him and continue pleading, continue asking for his attention until he finally gives you the time of day, but what would be the point if he can’t even look at you for more than a second, he can’t stand you right now. So the best thing you can do is just leave him alone….

But you hate it, you hate that you made him feel so angry that he doesn’t want to talk to you. You! He’s always so sweet and gentle, he never leaves you hanging, nor does he ever grow tired of hearing you talk. So it makes your stomach churn with so much agony that he’s being this way, that you made him feel this way.

But what can you do now?

Damn.

You sit down on the couch and just sit in silence with guilt and ache for what you did to him, causing you to cry.

You try to stop, but nothing you tell yourself helps, you feel bad, and you feel so overwhelmed that you continue to cry until you end up falling asleep on the couch.

Eventually, after a while, Choso came looking for you, after he had fallen asleep on the bed and woke up searching for you beside him, but the spot was cold and untouched. So he got up and went to look for you in the bathroom, and even if the lights weren’t on, maybe you were just sitting there so he looked.

But no you weren’t there, so he went on and wandered to the living room, and that’s where he found you balled up on the couch without a blanket.

“Y/N?” He finally spoke your name as he actually didn’t like not having you next to him, and as he realized that being angry at you was stupid.

Nevertheless, when you didn’t answer he walked over to you and that’s when he noticed the tear stains on your cheeks, and how puffy your eyes are from all the crying. All because of him.

He was so mad at you that he ended up hurting you. You, one of the people he never wanted to hurt. He couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you, but here you are after you cried yourself to sleep because of him…

He can’t even fathom that guilt, it hurts his heart and soul that he sees you this way.

He can’t stand another minute of it.

“Y/N,” he calls out and gently presses his hand on your cheek so you can wake up.

And when you open your eyes the first thing you see is your boyfriend on his knees in front of you with his own eyes welling with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he interjects shakily. “I’m sorry, please forgive me, my love. Please, please.”

You’d tear up too but you already cried so much that you can’t so you just smile and throw your arms around his neck to embrace him.

“I’m sorry too,” you tell him by his ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Choso scoffs. “You didn't, I was just being stupid, and I’m sorry because I made you cry,” he insists. “I’m sorry.”

You pull back and cup his jaw while he cups your cheeks and caresses them gently. “I love you,” he whispers. “I never want to see you like this. I just mean I never want to be the cause of this again, forgive me.”

You laugh softly and press your forehead against his. “Let's just agree to forgive each other or we’ll get nowhere, hm?”

Choso lets out a quiet laugh and nods. “All right.”

You grin and lean in to steal a kiss from him. He holds onto you tighter to not fall back and instead he pulls you up with him without once pulling apart until he needs to say something.

“Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs against your lips before he presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth. You giggle and he smiles and presses a kiss on your forehead before he presses one last deep kiss on your lips.

“Hm?” He hums.

You nod. “Okay,” you agree softly and quickly slide off the couch to pull him with you to your room hand in hand.

[kirkwhore]

Type O Negative: VIP Treatment

You've been following Type O Negative on tour, and tonight you get luckier than you ever dreamed.

CW: unprotected piv (wrap it before u tap it, friends!), fem!reader, exhibitionism, degradation, overstimulation, dubcon (everyone is drunk), fingering, use of y/n

word count: 1.8k

18+ ONLY (MINORS SCRAM)

You went to the concert knowing in your gut that something about tonight would be different. You’d been following Type O Negative on their tour for the past four months, and you could swear that Peter Steele was singing right to you at every show. You had locked eyes with him several times during “Love You to Death”, and he had actually winked at you during “Be My Druidess.” At least, you thought so.

You were beginning to feel delusional… until he beckoned you toward the stage during their last number. It was like walking through a dream – you felt like you were floating through the crowd, never taking your eyes off of him. Peter met you in the crowd and gently lifted your face with a finger under your chin. He recited the poem in “Haunted” to you alone. You could feel other women glaring daggers at your back, but you didn’t care. Nothing existed outside of him. You felt yourself leaning into him, completely dazed.

He kissed you in front of everyone. There was a hunger behind the kiss that promised more.

Before returning to the stage, he leaned down and spoke softly into your ear.

“Meet me backstage.” Just those three words, but they were enough to send you running through the sea of witnesses to the best night of your life.

You were playing with a strand of your hair nervously when you heard the screams. The show was over. Peter was headed your way at last.

He grabbed your hand without a word and led you back to the green room with the rest of the band.

They all relaxed back on the plush couches while you stood in the doorway, frozen in awe.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he purred.

“Y/n,” you replied, voice trembling. This had to be a fucking dream; there was no way this was actually happening. Right?

“Y/n. What a beautiful name.” The way it rolled off his tongue like velvet made your thighs clench involuntarily. He gestured for you to come closer.

“Come. Sit.” He was pointing at his lap. Your face felt hot and you were embarrassed by the smirks of the other guys, but you complied anyway. Your short skirt didn’t cover your ass when you sat down and you could feel his stiff cock pulsing against the thin fabric of your panties. The wetness pooling between your thighs threatened to stain his pants. With every deep, rumbling laugh, you felt your pussy clenching around nothing, leaving you with a desparate need to be filled up. It was agony to have to sit still for so long, making polite conversation. Peter knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he made every excuse to fidget and press himself into your ass even harder. The more wine you drank, the more confident you felt. You wanted to tease him back, rocking your hips ever so slightly against his length. You felt strong fingers dig into your hips; a hiss of pleasure escaped his lips.

Peter lifted you to your feet.

“Take them off,” he commanded. “Your panties, give them to Kenny.” You could feel the blush creeping up your neck as both humiliation and pleasure fought for dominance in your body.

“I –”

“Is there a problem?” he said, cocking his head to one side.

“N-no,” you stuttered, your heart pounding. You slowly rolled the waistband of your panties down, exposing yourself to Peter as you bent to free them from your legs. He swiped one deft finger between your folds before you could straighten up. A moan bubbled from your throat before you could stop it. The men laughed as you tentatively handed over your underwear.

When you turned back around, you were shocked to find him naked already, beckoning you back over.

“Don’t take your eyes off of me when your back is to them, and do what you’re told. Think you can do that?” It was a simple question but your reply was trapped in your throat.

“You can always back out, you know,” Peter said more softly. “Don’t let me make you feel trapped.” As much stage fright as you were feeling, you realized that you actually wanted them to watch you be used like a useless fucktoy.

“No, I can do this,” you replied, voice trembling again.

“Good girl.” His smile was all the encouragement you needed. “Now, get on your knees. Wanna see how pretty you look gagging on my cock.” He started slow, easing his way between your lips. You swirled your tongue around the head, lapping up the salty pre-cum leaking from his tip. Peter growled and pushed himself deeper, rougher this time. You really did gag then, and tears stung your eyes. That seemed to turn him on more, and he tangled your hair in his fingers, guiding you back and forth as he fucked your face. You could hear skin slapping in the background. The rest of the bandmates were jacking off. Their moans made your pussy clench even harder.

Once he was done making your mascara run in rivers down your cheeks, Peter dragged you to your feet by your hair and spun you to look at the others. He pushed your skirt up and ripped your shirt open, exposing you to them.

“Isn’t she so pretty?” Peter tugged at your nipples hard, pinching them between his fingers, sending a ripple of pleasure and pain through your body. “And so wet for us, too. Such a fucking slut.” He pulled you down onto his lap once more, spreading your legs wide to give the guys a front row seat to your dripping cunt as he fingered you. The sounds that ripped out of you were animalistic and filthy. You would’ve been humiliated if you weren’t so fucking turned on.

Just when you were on the precipice of falling apart, Peter’s relentless assault on your clit stopped abruptly. You whined, wanting to cry at the sudden lack of stimulation. He laughed, watching you thrust your hips against the air pathetically. He forced you to gag on his thick fingers covered in your slick while you watched one of the others masturbate into your panties. Someone had already finished in them. You could see the pearly cum sliding down the gusset.

You were once again lifted to your feet and whirled around to face Peter before he pushed you backwards onto the couch. He climbed on top of you, caging your face in with his bulging forearms.

“I’m gonna make you cum over and over until you can no longer speak, y/n. But only if you keep those beautiful eyes on me, remember?” His pupils were dilated with lust. He looked like a supernatural creature in that moment, more vampire than man. You could only nod. Your heart was in your throat as he leaned down to press passionate kisses into your neck. Your legs were hiked up over his shoulders, and he slowly, slowly pressed his cock into your heat. You had seen that issue of Playgirl, so you knew he was big… but a picture didn’t do it justice. Feeling him stretch you out was a euphoria like no other. It was certainly worth the pain that came with it. Your moans became screams as he hit that spot deep inside that made you see stars. You wanted so badly to close your eyes, but he held your face in one hand and you knew there would be consequences to looking away. He was panting openmouthed over you, and his friends were moaning your name. The sound of Peter’s balls slapping into you and the unholy noise your cunt was making filled the room.

“Fuck, I’m gonna -” you tried to warn him, but your senses were leaving you. “fuckfuckFUCK I’m gonna cum,” you spat just before the tightly wound coil deep inside snapped, releasing a flood. That was a first – you’d never squirted before. You squeezed tightly around him, and he grunted out your name before you felt him paint your insides with his cum. You were both a sticky mess but he didn’t stop.

“Want me to make you feel good again, baby?” Peter whispered sweetly like he wasn’t using you for his friends’ amusement. You tried to nod but he held your head in place. “No. Use your words.”

“Yes, yes please,” you whined, bearing down on him in desperation. He turned to his friends and laughed.

“Y/n wants to keep going. You wanna see her tits bounce?” The subsequent wolf whistles gave him his answer. You were a puppet in his arms – pliant, obedient. You let him flip you onto your hands and knees.

“Everyone got a good view?” Peter asked. The enthusiastic cheering was all he needed. He plunged back into you and grabbed your hips for leverage, using you like a fleshlight. Your tits hurt from the force of his thrusts, slapping your chest with every bounce. It wasn’t long before you had your second orgasm. Your body went slack. You were tired, thirsty, and overstimulated. Peter chased his release and came inside again. You tried to remember if you had taken your birth control this morning, but your head was so fuzzy from the wine and the pleasure that you couldn’t even remember your own name.

He moaned again before addressing his audience. “Fuck, she’s so tight. And all mine, too.” All his? Your brain slammed back into reality. Suddenly you felt sober. It was only all you had dreamed of since you were an obsessed teen. You turned to look back at him.

He reached out to stroke your mascara-stained cheek. “You like that? Well, if you keep following us on tour, you can be. But just me and you next time – if you’d prefer.” Before you could reply, he slipped out of you. You eyed the soaked panties that had made their way onto the coffee table. The guys were finished with them. You moved to pull your clothes back on, but Peter’s nimble fingers stopped you.

“You have a good time?”

You answered enthusiastically, wanting to please him enough for him to keep you around.

“We’re not done yet, then. That’s not what I promised – until you can’t speak, remember?” He pulled you back down as the others filed out of the room. Peter laughed as you gave in; it sent a shiver down your spine. On his command, you knelt in front of him.

It was nearly sunrise when the cab pulled up to take you home. You ached all over, but you had never felt more alive – or more giddy – in your life. You had earned that VIP pass, and you intended to use it over and over and over again

[lymtw]

Cerise

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Content: SFW

Content Warnings: Not many it’s pretty SFW, just some kisses really

Description: Cerise is a sacred word for you and Gojo. It means peace or truce. It cancels any grudge out and it forces you to talk. Gojo is the king of using Cerise ;)

Word Count: 0.7k

Gojo can’t stand when you give him the silent treatment, because when you do, everything about you goes silent. You silence his notifications so when he texts you, you don’t know it until you manually look at your messages. Even then, you look at the message and don’t respond. It’s usually something along the lines of:

Hiii baby ❤️

You still mad 🥹

To which you don’t respond because he’s only on the couch across the room. You can feel his eyes watching you, but you refuse to look up at him. So you turn your screen off and continue what you were doing previously.

Gojo knows how to get you to talk. It’s very simple, but he wants to see if you’ll ever reach out first during these bouts of annoyance.

When he notices that you’re not doing much, he decides that it’s time to turn on the charm.

You’re finishing washing some dishes, when he comes up behind you. He doesn’t get close enough to touch you, but enough so that you can hear him even if he’s whispering.

“Cerise.” The word comes out smoothly, and his lips curl into a sly smile as soon as he hears you sigh.

“God, what, Satoru?” You throw the dishrag you had in your hands, and turn to look at him. You had to bite the inside of your cheek just so that you wouldn’t mirror the smile on his face once you saw him.

“You can’t break a promise we’ve followed through with for years. Sorry, but I didn’t make the rules. You know what I did do, though? I said cerise, so now you have to talk to me.”

He was unbearable, yet so damn lovable with his prideful smile.

Cerise, or the French word for cherry, was a word you and Gojo decided was made for truces. When you were just dating, he invited you over to spend the night in his apartment one day. He told you to make yourself at home, and allowed you to rummage through his cabinets and rooms.

He forgot something in his car so he went to go get it, leaving you alone for a maximum of four minutes. In those four minutes, you found a bag of cherries that was almost empty. All but three cherries remained, so you thought finishing them and tossing the bag would help him make room for more groceries. Gojo came back and caught you red handed, his jaw dropping.

“You know the French word for cherry is cerise?” You read the translations in Spanish and French, not noticing that Gojo was having a meltdown and was on his knees. You tossed the bag after popping the last one in your mouth, the stem thrown in the trash after.

“‘toru?” You call, seeing him on the floor. You squat down to his level, still making your way around the pit of the cherry, the sweetness staining your tongue.

“I wanted those cherries. Those were mine,” he mumbles, weakly.

“Please, don’t cry.” You pat his fluffy hair.

He sits up and looks at you in confusion. “I’m not crying.”

“Oh, good. So, the French word for cherry is cerise.” You put an emphasis on the word to make it sound even more regal.

He was so bummed, and spent a good ten minutes not talking to you, huffing and whipping his head in the opposite direction of you whenever you looked at him, like a child.

You couldn’t stand another minute of him ignoring you, so you scrambled into his lap, and tried to catch his attention.

“Baby, baby, baby~” you poked his cheeks, repeatedly. “‘toru, my pretty boy, i’m sorry.” You almost got him to smile with that. You covered him in kisses, his neck, his cheeks, but when you went for his lips, he sucked them in and made them disappear.

When all failed, you went for the last resort.

“Cerise,” you said, sounding wise. “Cerise,” you repeated, adding a dramatic hand in mid-air. “Did you know cerise is the French word for cherry? Also, did you know cerise is cerise?”

Gojo cracked, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled at your ridiculous rambling about this word you found on a bag of cherries. It was so easy for him to forgive you after that. You got him to laugh, and you promised that the next time you spent the night, you would bring him another bag of cherries.

“Cerise is…?” He says, waiting for you to finish his sentence.

“…the French word for cherry.” You crack a grin, walking towards him. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. Cerise is our live, laugh, love.”

You chuckled as you buried your face in his chest.

[mistydeyes]

Running mascara: I can't believe you would say that to me prompt 🙏

thank you for submitting @glitteryeggalmondherring! i thought since you didn't specify a particular character, why not give everyone some angst!

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration! - closed now! thank you all for your submissions

prompt: running mascara - "i can't believe you would say that to me"

read pt.ii here!

pairing: Task force 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, ANGST, verbal abuse, mention of depression and mental illness, literally all the 141 SUCKS in this so be warned

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price

Whenever John returned home, you would always try to wait up for him. However as he rose the ranks and eventually became Captain to his men, you grew tired of his inconsistency and waiting on the couch until the sun rose. This time, you settled into bed before letting him know there would be leftovers in the oven for him. Your slumber was interrupted by your husband entering the bed angrily. "Welcome home, John," you smiled as you turned to him but he didn't return your affection. He looked at you silently as your eyes adjusted to the darkened room. "Something the matter?" you asked gently and you tried to hold his hand before he pulled away. "All I want is to come home to a nice cooked meal and my wife but all I got was some shitty leftovers," he spat at you and you couldn't help but feel hurt at his tone. Before you could apologize he continued on his rant. "Why the fuck do I even serve if my wife can't even do her basic duty in the kitchen?" At this, you ripped the covers off and grabbed your phone and keys. You looked at him angrily before leaving. "I don't know when you became such a misogynistic asshole but you can expect fucking nothing from me going forward," you yelled back, "I can't believe you would say that to me." Before he could respond, you slammed the door and headed off to a friend's place for the night.

soap

Despite being the life of the party, Johnny somehow always took it too far. Whether it was an embarrassing story told to friends or a dirty joke, you made sure to tell him that it made you uncomfortable. He would apologize and kiss you gently before promising to be more civil next time. With Johnny, it was always a promise of next time and never an acknowledgment of the fact. This time, you were giving him the silent treatment after he had told a mortifying story to his teammates. "I can tell you’re mad," he called as you walked into the bathroom. You stared at him angrily as you went about your nightly routine. "I am mad, Johnny, why would you tell them that?" you said defeated, and to your tone, he laughed slightly. "Bonnie, it was a good story!" The "story" in question was a 5-minute long retelling of how you bled through your shorts and stained the tram's seat. Even Simon told Johnny to stop as you sat silent and blushing. He continued to laugh as you shoved him away and walk to the bedroom. "God you are such a fucking buzzkill, you know that?" he said, frustrated, and you whipped your head around. "I can't believe you would say that to me," you yelled back and before he could apologize, you slammed and locked the bedroom door.

gaz

The primary cause of most of your fights with Kyle was finances. Guess money was the root of all evil. Despite his comfortable wage as a Sergeant and yours at a well-paying company, he always managed to make you feel bad about your purchases. Now, he was starting an argument about the recent pile of parcels at the door. "You're bleeding money!" he exclaimed as he held them in his hands. Despite reminding him of your recent bonus, he couldn't help but throw them at your feet. "Why are you always buying things?" he demanded and you looked up at him. "Kyle, I have my own salary, I can buy what I want," you corrected but he kept berating you. He acted as if you were creating a hole in his wallet and that you hadn't contributed to bills. "Every time I come home, there's always something waiting for you," he continued, "you sit here and just spend all my goddamn money." You stood up at this point and leveled with your enraged fiancé. "Kyle," you said and he looked at you angrily, "I make these purchases on my card, I don't know why you're acting like it's the end of the world." "Because," he sneered at you, "I risk my life and limb and my lazy fiancee just sits at home and online shops." You couldn't help but raise a hand to your mouth in a mixture of disgust and surprise. "I can't believe you would say that to me," you said in a quiet tone before you grabbed your things and headed out the door. As he tried to stop you, you turned to him in a final act of anger. "Fuck you and your goddamn savior complex."

ghost

As the door slammed to your flat, you knew Simon was in one of his moods again. You braced yourself as he entered the living room. "Bad day, love?" you asked gently and he nodded before sitting down next to you. "They tried to get me to go to fucking therapy again," he groaned and you placed a reassuring touch to his shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that," you replied and he threw his head back in annoyance. "They keep telling me I have issues," he said with large quotation marks as you held your breath. You knew Simon had a rough past and often held your tongue when he berated therapy and antidepressants. However, he always seemed to forget your previous history and neglected your feelings about the benefits of therapy. Nevertheless, you always entertained his frustrations and offered him comfort when needed. "I'm not some depressed fucker who needs to be medicated," he said cynically, "I'm not fucking weak like them." With that last statement, you couldn't help but let your hand drop from his shoulders. "I can't believe you would say that to me," you whispered and his eyes widened at his statement, you got up from the couch. "You can fucking sleep out here, Simon," you spat before he shuddered at the slamming of the bedroom door.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Floor to ceiling windows

Miguel O’Hara x male reader

Smut drabble

I blame tiktok for this one. 

Scent kink and sweat in this, so if that isn’t your cup of tea, oh well. I felt I probably should start naming my drabbles, so I named this one, enjoy.

The sun shined brightly in through the tall windows into Miguels apartment, the type of apartment you see in movies or imagine when someone says millionaire. With windows that stretch from floor to ceiling, and white furniture so expensive you wouldn’t even dare sit down in fear of staining them with your presence. All looked too pristine, too expensive, like something right out of a magazine someone from your tax bracket would never be able to afford.

Well, almost everything. It would all have looked too well, if not for the large man draped across it, arm tucked behind his head and legs spread in what you’d probably fall the most foul menspread you had ever laid your eyes on. Miguel was wearing a sorry excuse of fabric he claimed was a tanktop, barely covering anything as it hung from loose straps, leaving the armhole going almost all the way down to his wasit. The tiny shorts he wore wasn’t much help either, ending barely a quarter of the way down his massive thighs, the poor fabric stretching to its full capability to try and contain the muscle, one way or another.

Normally you would be ribbing on him for his posture, how he looked like the image that most of those alpha male podcasters tried to shine but always failed at doing. But your mouth was quite preoccupied at the moment, as Miguel’s free hand was buried in your hair and pulling you closer to his exposed armpit. The flat of your tongue ran from the bottom of the crevice to the top, brushing over the coarse hairs of his bodyhair as the salty taste of his sweat covered your tastebuds.

It was hard to pinpoint how you’d found yourself in this position, half kneeling on the couch as you licked and sucked the salty drops of sweat off Miguel’s sweaty body, his musk filling your very senses, so strong that it almost left your eyes rolling. Maybe it was when you had stepped in through your own portal, thanks to your watch since you were part of the whole spider team, and the first thing you had seen was Miguels tan body shiny with sweat. Or maybe it was how his hair seemed less styled than usual, falling in natural waves across his forehead, some of it sticking against his skin thanks to his sweat, all which could be blamed on the harsh sun that shined in through the windows.

But one thing led to another, and here you were, your own spidersuit tucked off your torso and tied around your waist like one would a jacket. Gruff Spanish left his lips as the hand in your hair tightened and pulled your head this and that way, leading your tongue in whatever direction Miguel wanted it to be. As your thoughts blurred, you could focus on nothing but inhaling his strong musky scent and licking his skin clean of salty sweat.

At one point he had moved you, using his large height and inhumane strength to pull you onto his other side, so that you could lather his other pit with the same worshipping treatment, his grumbled praise constant as you kept up your task. Only after licking his torso clean did you find yourself on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with a spit and sweat slick face, your hair mused and your pupils blown.

A moan left you as his hand buried itself in your hair once more, his half smirk being the last thing you saw before your eyes rolled back and fell shut, as his grip pulled you in close, burying your face in the crevice between his thigh and his crotch. Maybe barging into his home uninvited hadn’t been the worst idea you’d ever had, you surely didn’t think so, and Miguel didn’t seem to mind much either.

[harryforvogue]

“This is so nice,” Harry murmurs, staring up at the ceiling. He’s sure that if he keeps his head back against the couch like this for a few minutes longer, he’ll develop a crick in his neck, but that thought seems far away as his fiancée continues to assault his jaw and jugular with soft, yet pointed kisses. His hand rests on the back of her head, her hair spilling over his fingers, and the press of her thighs against his keeping him awake.

Mia pulls away to frown at him. “I’ve been kissing you for ten minutes and all you have to say is ‘this is nice’?”

He smiles down at her, the hand in her hair traveling to cup her cheek. “You are so nice, I meant.”

“You’re right,” she says, looking pleased. “I am.” And then she ducks her head and continues kissing his collarbones.

He’s half sprawled on the couch with his legs wide, and she’s directly on top of him. The collar of his shirt is open, his tie undone, and he’s pretty sure that somewhere between entering their house and Mia basically pouncing on him, she managed to undo the button and zipper of his pants.

Harry sighs softly, melting into the soft presses of her lips. He imagines how his neck must look right now, riddled with lipstick stains and slight marks from her nipping. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten into her, but he’s not complaining.

Today, Harry is thirty.

Mia calls it the "hot age", which he’s unfamiliar with, but if it gets this type of treatment, who is he to argue?

His hair was carefully done before they attended dinner, but now, it’s a complete mess. By Mia’s orders, he’s not cut his hair for several months now, and without any product, it falls into his eyes. Her face lights up whenever he comes out of the shower and has to tuck the curls behind his ears to avoid getting his face all wet. Some days, it’s hard to scrape her off of him. He’s even been late a few times to work because of it. If he actually had to answer to someone, it may have been a problem.

“I love you,” Mia suddenly mumbles against his collar. 

Not realizing he’s closed them, Harry opens his eyes and glances down at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She’s quiet. And then: “I’m really happy I get to see you at 30.”

He runs a thumb over her cheek. “What do you mean?”

She turns her head into his neck. “I mean – well. Eight years ago, I didn’t think I’d see you at 25, much less 30.”

“Didn’t think I’d be in your life?”

“Yeah.” 

Harry rests his chin on the top of her head. “There have been a few bumps, hm?”

(They don’t really talk about their break up much these days. Mia saw Harry struggle with accepting it and moving on from it for a very long time. Now, they’re both at ease, it seems.)

“Mhm,” Mia says. She bites down on his shoulder gently. “I hope I get to see you at 35. And 40. And 50. And 100.”

He laughs again though his heart is heavy in his chest. “Think you’ll still love me at 40 and 50 and 100? Doubt I'll be too hot then.”

She raises her head then, and Harry is surprised to see her pretty eyelashes sticking together with tears. He immediately stops smiling and puts his palms over her eyes, wiping away the moisture. He leaves a streak of mascara down her face, but that matters little right now.

Mia holds his open collar, bunching up the fabric between her fingers. She leans close, sliding her nose against his. “I wish,” she whispers, “I could put into words what I feel for you. And how it grows every time I wake up next to you. It is so–” she takes a breath, “unbearable sometimes.”

Harry swallows, too stunned for words. Mia kisses him softly, trailing her fingers down his chest, resting her fists against his butterfly tattoo. He kisses her back, pushing off the back of the couch to lean into her as well, pressing their hearts together. At some point through the kisses, his fingers become tangled in her hair. Mia pulls away to take a breath. 

When he releases her, their chests rise and fall hard with their breaths. Mia rests her forehead on Harry’s, a smile twisting onto her lips. “Happy birthday, Harry.”

He surges forward and kisses her again.