#because there are no drinks Done đŸ˜©
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boysnberriespie · 2 months ago
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Where’s that post about being told to do something while you’re already doing it
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xo-cod · 1 year ago
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141 + reader
hc's when you five share the barracks together/just in general <3 (ooc, rushed my bad lmao, can be read platonically/romantically, reader is v close to them!!) kinda long oops đŸ˜© might do a part 2 idk
nsfw version đŸ©·
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there's a whole lot of testosterone and musk in the air when you're sharing living spaces with 4 men ‌
all four men compete with each other to get your attention, even if it's unknowingly
whole lotta pouting when you're spending time with more man than the other, you're a great companion ;) and the army is lonely. they all need equal love and attention
speaking of, if you're smelling like one of them the other will immediately bundle you in his arms to put his scent on you instead and to cancel out the other (alpha behaviour đŸ˜”â€đŸ’«)
whole lotta flirting from each of them. they're all very intelligent soldiers, they know exactly what to say to get you going 😙
all of them adore the height difference with you. you get teased about it relentlessly (out of love obvi)
i don't think they're particularly messy men but ghost and gaz are the most cleanest, they like having their things in order and knowing where everything is
price is next because he's slumped with being captain so you'll see a lot of his paperwork around with coffee mugs from pulling all nighters
soap is more organised mess. it might look messy to you but he knows exactly where everything is
you, soap and gaz definitely have rap battles late at night. it starts of quiet but you'll usually hear price shouting at you three from his bedroom to stfu. ghost threatens to pull a grenade if you don't be quiet
assuming you're naturally a good cook, they'd all be so appreciative :") especially on bad days, your cooking reminds each of them of home (or lack of)
face masks! gaz would 100% be down to do them with you, soap would follow next because if gaz is doing it then he too???
ghost would roll his eyes, continuing polishing his guns with a rag "you ain't putting that muck on my face"
price would just look at you, shaking his head "got too much to do, sweetness"
but you're quite the convincer and all four men are on the floor of your bedroom, gossiping about the last mission with their preferred colour of face mask across their faces
assuming you're the only woman, they get very protective when you're hurt. soldiers get hurt from time to time but its different when it's you
"you alright, bonnie?" soap's gentle voice comes through your room as he hands you a warm mug of your fave drink
gaz had you wrapped in a big fluffy blanket, gently stroking your back
"who was it?" ghost's voice is firm, wanting to know who dared injured the youngest member of their team
"already got a handle on 'em" price follows, looking at the computer. whatever enemy dared to raise their hands on wished they'd be six feet under after all four men are done with them
you're the one each man needs when they're having a particularly bad day which are usually far in few between but sometimes it happens
gaz and soap are the types to seek you out, their faces settled in a troubled frown before they place their arms around you. no questions just yet, they just want to feel skin to skin for now. keeping them grounded before they can explain what happened. they're not looking for a fixer, just someone who'll listen
ghost and price are the type to isolate themselves for a while until it's night and then you'll find them gently knocking on your bedroom door and slipping inside, between your covers. their grip is strong, burying their faces deep into your neck whilst trying to wrap his arms as much as he can. these two won't talk much either, just looking to be held and stroked to calm down
ghost and soap are the type to show affection through lingering touches while gaz and price show affections through their words.
but speaking of hugs, each of them have their own special way they like to embrace
ghost thinks he's being slick but you realise just how touchstarved he really is, he gives hugs with his arms around your shoulders bringing you in to his chest. mostly because he's tall and broad but he likes how he can manhandle you from this position and smelling your scent <3
soap's the type to tackle you in a playful hug, maybe a spin to get a laugh out of you before he gently strokes your skin for a few seconds, a gentle kiss to your temple <3
price likes to hug from behind, resting his chin on your head while he looks at what you're doing. depending on you, his big arms are either wrapped on your waist or your shoulders <3
gaz gives side hugs because he likes linking his arm around your hips and he likes how you fit snugly into his body. and this way he can lean his head against yours and can bring you in closer with his other arm <3
all four can immediately smell you before you come in because they adore whatever perfume/spray you have
each of them would absolutely melt into pieces if you joined them/kept them company in what they were doing
and if they catch you in a towel after having a shower, best believe they're quickly walking back around to where they came from to help alleviate the growing... tent in their pants
lowkey kinda pervy đŸ«Ł (never in a harmful way)
each of them have their strong points and would 100% train you in becoming stronger
even if you're a well established soldier, they all worry for your safety
price would teach you sniper techniques, ghost teaches you combat, gaz teaches you how to sharpen your aim and soap teaches you about explosives and how to construct/dismantle each of them
they take the training very seriously with you
a ton of cursing when their fave team loses lmaoo
if you're avid tea drinker, join the gaz/ghost/price club. if you're not, join the hater club with soap <3
ghost/gaz/soap will playfully fight with you, careful not to use their full strength and not to harm you. but it's so cute to them when you're struggling a little under them.
but when price scolds them in doing so, "i'm just helping in case there's an attack!"
if you're arguing against one of them, another will come to your defence. unless you're arguing all four then it's the silent treatment from you đŸ€­
all four of them melt when you call them by their real name instead of their callsign :")
ghost usually comes to you when his balaclava is broken and he'll keep you company as your fingers work their magic to the fabric, gently leaning against you as you speak to him
price will let you shape up his beard after you begging to do so and he grows to enjoy those tender moments
soap definitely calls for your help to shape up his mohawk, he trusts your hand to eye coordination above anyone elses
ghost will playfully ruffle your hair whenever you both pass each other
price gives you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder
gaz gives you a soft stroke on your arm or back whenever he's passing by
soap will gently tap his head against yours, not too hard to cause pain but just enough to know that he's there
but above all, the barracks you five share is definitely a safe space for each of them the second they come through the door <333
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skzdarlings · 11 months ago
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the demonstration ; skz ; jeongin x reader
requested by anonymous: you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ w Jeongin? đŸ˜© please đŸ„°. requested by anonymous: I.N AND ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜ ❛ you taste like heaven. ❜ PLEASE IF YOU CAN BEGGING YOU
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pairing: yang jeongin/reader content info: friends to lovers. reader asks jeongin if he has ever made someone squirt and if so please show her hehe. reader mentions a bad date with a rude guy who called her high-strung. squirting, pussy-eating, riding, just a good time lol. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy <3
-
Jeongin is finally awake when you return to his apartment.  You visited this morning but he must have had a late night because the flat was dark and silent when you let yourself in. You went for a stroll, hoping the fresh air would clear your mind, but what you really needed was him.  A conversation with Jeongin always improves your mood.  Just thinking about those deep dimples brings out your own smile.  
“Hi there,” you say sweetly.  You close the door and replace your shoes with the slippers he keeps for you.  You bound up to the kitchen counter.  “Can I ask you something?”  
Jeongin clearly just rolled out of bed.  Far from glamourous, your nonetheless very handsome friend is wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and his black thick-rimmed glasses.  He has the hood pulled over his head, his dishevelled black hair peeking out.  A bowl of ramen sits in front of him, though his sleepy gaze is on his phone, long ringed fingers curled around the device. 
You look at those fingers thoughtfully, your mouth a little drier than before.  Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all

It’s too late.  Jeongin emerges from the slumped cavern of his hoodie, lifting his bespectacled face.  He dutifully puts his phone facedown on the counter.   Pushing his sleeves to his elbows, he says, “Of course.  Hi.  How are—”  He yawns before he can finish.  The yawn breaks into a wheezy little laugh.   
You take the seat across from him at the kitchen island and watch him twirl his chopsticks.  Nimble fingers flip them around before he digs into his noodles, slurping a little ungracefully.  He swallows almost half the bowl in a scoop.  Your eyes are still on his hands.   
“Jeongin,” you say.  “Have you ever—oh, no, thank you.” 
He is holding out a clump of noodles on his chopsticks.  When you decline, he shoves it in his own mouth. 
“Jeongin,” you say again.  “Have you ever made a girl squirt?”
He chokes on the noodles.  It gets ugly quick.  You emit a little squeak of your own when he thumps on his chest so hard that his hood falls back and his glasses fall off.  He hacks up the noodles and spits some across the island. 
“Are you okay?” you ask.     
“I’m fine,” he says in a rough voice, squinting hard like a beleaguered puppy.  He fumbles with his glasses, blinking quickly once they are back on his face.   Then he reaches for his water bottle and unscrews it with a flick of his fingers.  He rubs his chest while drinking.
You purse your lips, watching him.  His profile is so defined, his jaw so sharp and cheekbones high.  He really is ridiculously handsome.  And those hands.  You look at the prominence of the veins running down his forearm, the subtle strength in his slender form, the long easy grace of his fingers.  If any man is turning women into waterfalls, it must be him.
“So,” you say, “have you ever done it?”
He chokes on his water, but not as dramatically as the noodles.  It’s a messy hiccup and he dribbles water down his chin, barely catching it in the cup of his hand.  He puts the bottle aside and wipes his hand on his thigh. 
“I don’t think I understand the question,” he finally says. 
“What? ‘Have you ever made a girl squirt?’” you ask, tipping your head.  “Sorry, what’s confusing?”
“Um.”  He looks at you in bewilderment.  “The part where you are asking me it?” 
“Oh.”  A little – okay, a lot of embarrassed heat explodes in your chest.  It radiates out with rapid-fire speed, scalding your neck and your face. 
You lower your gaze.  His dark eyes and expressive brows are now too intense for you.  You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, thumbs pushing at each other. 
“Well,” you say, slowly.  You look anywhere but him. “Something sort of happened.”
When you chance an upward glance, he is looking at you very studiously.   
“Sort of
” he says, looking more confused by the second.  “Did you
 sort of
 squirt?”
You cover your face, suddenly embarrassed beyond words.  Why did this seem like a good idea again?  You were so convinced a few minutes ago that this was a totally fine conversation to have with your friend.  Now you want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. 
You make a miserable little sound into your palms and Jeongin finally laughs.  His whole face crinkles with delight and he laughs so hard that it sounds like he can barely breathe.
“Don’t laugh at me!” you wail. 
“I’m not, I’m not,” he lies, because he is laughing his ass off while he says it.  “Come on, it’s fine.  Stop hiding.” 
He reaches across the counter for you.  You jerk away, mewling pathetically, which just makes him laugh again.  He eventually uses both hands to peel apart your death grip.  You still avoid his gaze, staring down at the counter, but he dips his head to chase your eyes. 
“There you are,” he says when your gazes meet.  “Crazy girl!  Ask me again.” 
“I forgot the question,” you say, petulant.
He snorts.  “I didn’t,” he says.  “You wanted to know if I ever made a woman—”
“Yes, I know what I asked!” you say, shaking your head.  You see him smile, a giant grin of immense amusement as you tug at your cheeks in distress.  “I’m sorry I asked.  It’s just that
”
“Something sort of happened?” he supplies when you trail off. 
“Technically,” you say, “something sort of didn’t happen.” 
“Ohhh.”  He returns to looking bashful, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Were you
 with
 someone?”
“Mhm.”  You both look at the kitchen counter while you speak.  “I had a date.  I planned the whole thing out.  You know me, I like a plan.”  You try to laugh but a flood of humiliation washes over you, the recollection of last night and how everything went so, so wrong.  You close your eyes and sigh.  “Ugh.  It was going well so I brought him back to my place.  Things got heated.  He said he was really good at
 doing that
 I said I had never done it before and he got excited and said I would like it.  I think I just
 thought about it too much.  You know me!  I like a plan!  That wasn’t the plan!  Anyway, we put a towel on the bed which is why it was even more embarrassing when I couldn’t
 when he couldn’t make me
 ugh.”  You flop forward, pressing your forehead to the cold marble countertop.  “He called me high-strung and left.” 
You lift your head slowly, looking at Jeongin for his reaction.  His expression is all scrunched up like he smells something bad.  Then he gestures as if he is vomiting, making the noisy hurling sounds to match. 
You laugh in spite of yourself, nodding.
“I know, I know, you’re right,” you say.  “He sucked.” 
“High-strung?” Jeongin says, the word tumbling out like a curse.  “He said that?  Pffft—” 
You are glad you came to him.  Your other friends would have been protective and encouraging, which is nice, but Jeongin’s helpless laughter is more reassuring than anything.  That other guy was so pathetic that all Jeongin can do is laugh. 
Even so, you do feel a little sensitive about the whole thing.  You are smiling now but your gaze stays low.  You trace circles on the counter. 
“I know he
 he was just embarrassed too.  He was rude to me, but
 he wasn’t totally wrong.”
“No,” Jeongin says, shaking his head.  “No, no, no—”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you insist.  You let him take your hands and squeeze, but you talk before he can interrupt.  “Look he didn’t exactly handle it well but I
 I am a little
 um, overly thoughtful at times.  I’m not good at doing things in the spur of the moment.  It scares me and I think too much and once I start thinking I can’t stop.”  You let go of his hands, giving them one last friendly pat before you neatly fold your hands on the counter.  “Anyway, I asked you what I did because I was hoping you could instruct me so I can practice.  That way next time it happens, I won’t get scared and think so much.”
You smile at him. 
He slowly takes his glasses off, his mouth open. 
“Oh,” he says.  “Okay.  Um.” 
“Soooo
 have you?” 
The tips of his ears turn a vibrant red and he puts his reading glasses aside.  He takes a second to rub his eyes with an incredible amount of vigour.  You wait patiently and politely, watching him tug down the sleeves of his hoodie then push them back up.  Those long fingers swipe through his hair once, twice.  Finally, he crosses his arms and nods sharply. 
“Yes,” he says.  “I have.” 
Oh.
The subject of your abstract thought suddenly becomes a tangible reality.  You cannot get the unbidden mental image out of your head: Jeongin, knuckle-deep in the very wet, very soft heat of someone lucky, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of them.  It is unexpectedly easy to imagine yourself in their place, his dark head between your thighs and his steady arm at work. 
You cross your legs.  He notices. 
“Would you mind showing me?” you ask. 
“Showing you?” he repeats, his thick eyebrows high on his face.  “Showing you?” 
“Yes,” you say.  You are so preoccupied with your mental image that it takes a moment to realize your phrasing might be misconstrued.  “Not like that!” 
He jumps in surprise. 
“Oh my god.”  You put your hands over your face again.  “I meant
 abstractly.  Draw it.  Or tell me.  I didn’t mean—oh my goodness.”
His ears are still red but Jeongin dissolves into giggles again.   Your mortification works wonders on his dimples. 
“I’m not very good at drawing,” he teases, patting you on the head. 
“Oh my goodness,” is all you manage. 
His laughter is infectious, overpowering your embarrassment until you are giggling with him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say when the laughter finally slows.  You smile, chagrined and apologetic.  “It was a stupid question in the first place.  I’m really embarrassed.” 
“No, don’t be,” he says, waving his hand.  “You can tell me anything.  I was just
 surprised.”
“Yeah, so was he,” you say, making both of you laugh again. 
When the laughter subsides a second time, Jeongin sighs.  He puts his discarded glasses back on, blinking his vision into his focus and smiling at you.  After the last few minutes of conversation, that smiles gives you butterflies.  You touch a hand to your stomach as if to still them, but they flutter away. 
“I have an idea,” he says, holding out his hand. 
“Oh no,” you say but take that hand without hesitation.  “Am I about to regret so many things?”
“What?  No.  When have I ever had a bad idea?” he asks while laughing, no doubt in recollection of every combined bad idea your friendship has conjured. 
You can hardly judge him for any bad ideas, though, seeing as you waltzed in here today asking your friend if he had ever made someone squirt.  It sounds very ridiculous in hindsight, but you truly do trust Jeongin so much that the idea seemed reasonable at the time. 
Now you are in his bedroom, hovering by the bedside while he plops down on his bed with a sigh.  He adjusts his glasses and the neck of his hoodie, like this is all protocol and not remotely unusual.  He takes a pillow and lays it gingerly across his lap, then looks up and beckons you forward with the come-hither crook of two fingers.  His smirk is suggestive but playful, just teasing you, but it awakens those butterflies again. 
“Come on,” he says.  “Sit.  I’ll, um, show you.”
“Show me?” you say, eying the pillow in his lap.  “Yang Jeongin, are you
 about to defile that pillow?”
“Yes,” he says, nodding solemnly.  “We’re gonna make it squirt.”
“You know when I asked if you had ever done it before, I meant on a human
”
“Wow! I’m helping you with a visual demonstration and you insult me—!”
“Aha, I’m sorry!”  You burst into laughter at the incredulity on his face.   When he pushes the pillow off his lap with a show of dramatics, you wave your hands just as theatrically.  “I mean it, I mean it,” you say, though your laughter contradicts the sincerity of your words.  “Please help me.  I’m sorry, hahaha, I was just teasing, I need your help, please!”
He tries to stand up but you block him, shuffling every time he leans.  He finally grabs your hips to move you but you grab his shoulders.  Your wrestling is a light-hearted tussle, but then he starts tickling you and you stand no chance of survival.  You turn into a flailing, yelping mess, laughing as you spill across the bed with your arms around each other.   He tortures you another second, forcing another apology out of your mouth. 
When it is over, you lay there, panting.  He is leaning over you, his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulders.   Your friend likes to laugh but a very serious look crosses his face.  He looks at you like he is studying you, discovering some detail for the first time even though he has known you for years.  It is like you can feel his stare, a caress across your cheek, across your lips.  You take your bottom lip into your mouth, wetting it.
He takes a slow, deep breath. 
“That man was crazy,” he says.  His voice is lower than before, scratching above a whisper.  “You’re perfect.  He just didn’t care about getting to know you.  And that sucks for him because you—”  His voice breaks, the little squeak making him laugh, a small embarrassed sound.  The tips of his ears are red and he avoids meeting your gaze.  “You’re beautiful,” he says, “inside and out.  Any man would be lucky to be with you.” 
“Jeongin,” you say softly, because what else can you say? 
He meets your gaze.  His mouth is open like he wants to say more but he can only stare at you.  Eventually, he laughs.  He rubs the back of his neck as he sits up straight.  You sit up as well, staring at him while he adjusts his glasses. 
“Right,” he says.  “The, uh, the pillow.  I, um
”
It might have been amusing, watching him poke a pillow suggestively.  But you no longer care about that.  The energy in this room has changed, the whole world melting under the power of his words, changing the very shape of this space.  When you take a breath, all you smell is his cologne, masculine and smoky, all you see is your friend, in his hoodie and glasses with his blushing cheeks, and all you want is him.  Like this.  Right now. 
He reaches for the pillow and you reach for him.  You take his hand and he looks at you, blinking with surprise. 
You turn his hand over.  He really does have nice hands, long fingers, deft and strong.  You measure it against your own.  Then you guide his hand to your lips and kiss the tips of his fingers.  You look at him, making your eyes big, your lashes fluttering. 
“Oh,” he says.  “Oh.”
You laugh.  He cups your face and draws you close and you are both smiling when your lips come together.  Despite his blush, the kiss is ravishing.  You find yourself gasping for a breath, whimpering when he sucks your bottom lip. 
“Lay down please,” he says, speaking against your mouth. 
You nod.  Those butterflies are wild inside you.  You are certain you already look like an unravelled mess, laying on your back and breathing hard. 
He leans over you, catching your hand when you reach for him.  He kisses your palm, your fingers bumping his glasses, making you giggle.  He smiles too, the kiss lingering.  Your whole arm tingles even when he stops.  He guides your hand above your head, curling your fingers around the bars of his headboard. 
“You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up,” he says, but laughs at your surprised expression before the words can settle.   “You said yourself, you think too much,” he explains.  “Just lay there.  Don’t move.  Don’t think.  Let me take care of you.”  He puts a leg between yours, pushing forward with his hips to guide yours apart.  He fits there perfectly, pressing his body against yours.  Your breath catches.   “You can trust me,” he says, and somehow that gets you going more than any sexy come-on.
You trust him more than anyone.  You did not hesitate coming to him with an embarrassing story.  You ran to him before anyone else.  You always seek him out first.
You know you are safe in his hands. 
“Do whatever you want with me,” you say.  You never make that sort of offer, but it feels so natural here and now.  With him.  “I’m yours.”
“Whatever I want?” he says, his smile big and dimples deep.   He leans down, kissing your cheek then under your jaw.  When he kisses your throat, it is hot, open-mouthed kiss, all teeth and tongue.  It sends sparks shooting down your whole body, your hips bucking.  He is strong, the weight of him between your legs pinning you to the mattress.  You feel him, firm, hard, his whole body riding the rhythm of yours.  
He has not even undone a single button. 
“Whatever I want,” he repeats.  “That’s a big offer.” 
His hands, those gorgeous hands that had you captivated, slide up your thighs and under your skirt.  He stares down into your face while lifting the material, leaving a trail of goosebumps all the way up your thighs.  You feel yourself clench, a sharp pulse of need in your core.  Your body is thoughtless in its hunger and it feels so good to give into it. 
“Sometimes,” he says, “all I think about this
 nothing extreme
 just you like this
 just us together
”
Every breath of a phrase is punctuated with a kiss, down your chest, your stomach, your thighs.  You are not expecting him to kiss you through your underwear, your hips bucking when he opens his mouth and ravishes you regardless of the barrier.  When you have soaked through the flimsy material, he finally hooks his pinkies into the fabric and tugs it down. 
You do not have time to be shy, just desperate to get them off.  He pushes your thighs back, folding you in half, then goes back to eating your pussy like he has all the time in the world, like there is no where he would rather be.  Your legs shake, your toes curling, body held firmly in his capable hands as he licks you hungrily. 
“Jeongin,” you gasp. 
“You taste like heaven,” is his reply. 
It is so cheesy but it makes you laugh, a happy sound that rumbles in your chest, that couples with pleasure and leaves your whole body singing.  You feel like you could float away. 
You are pliant, soft and malleable in his hands.  He really can do anything with you.  It does not scare you one bit.  You trust him, following his direction when he rolls you onto your side.  You gasp at his hand sliding under your shirt, squeezing your breasts, finding every sensitive nerve as he feels you up. 
“Don’t think,” he says, one arm around your chest and the other sliding down between your legs.  “Just feel, okay?” 
“Mmm,” is your only reply. 
You are so ready for him, wound up from his dirty kisses, taut with tension.  By the time those long fingers are inside you, it feels like completion rather than intrusion.  He fits like he belongs there, curling his fingers against places you never knew were sensitive.  It is like your body gives way, revealing all your secrets to his searching touch. 
“That’s it,” he says when your breathing gets erratic. 
You did not even realize he had found somewhere extra sensitive, not until he is already fucking it slowly.  By the time you realize just how soft you are there, it is too late to brace yourself.  He adds another finger and your body tightens around him.  Your eyes close and you see stars, gasping and rocking and almost crying at the dizzying swirl of sensation. 
“Oh, Jeongin,” you say.  His name is all you say for another minute.  It is the sound on your lips when he moves you, when he turns his hand just slightly, when the new angle sets off a chain reaction of feeling.  You cry out, clenching sporadically around his rapidly moving fingers.  You yank a corner of the bedspread right off the mattress.
Your orgasm seems to go on forever, pulsing and aching and clenching.  Your whole body feels boneless by the time it settles and he slips his fingers free. 
“Oops,” he says, adjusting his skewed glasses with his clean hand.  “Should’ve put a towel down after all.” 
You look down and whimper at the obvious wetness on his bedsheets.   You would apologize but he does not look sorry at all.  In fact, he grins, looking very satisfied with himself. 
You are in a state of utter disarray and he is still fully clothed, having shattered your world with just one hand.  It makes you laugh, giddy. 
Your arms finally drop.  Though it takes a minute, you find a little strength and push yourself up.  He is smiling when you climb into his lap.  He even winks at you when he puts his wet fingers in his mouth. 
You open your mouth too.  You hold his gaze while he puts his fingers in your mouth, his breath catching when you suck them eagerly. 
“I want something more,” you say. 
“Do whatever you want with me,” he echoes your words back to you.  “I’m yours.” 
He is right about the simplest fantasy making for a wonderous reality.  There are no expectations of any over-the-top actions; it is enough it is you and him, together.   Clothing ends up scattered around his room, then you are in his lap and he is holding your waist, and you are holding the bars behind his head as you ride him where he sits against the headboard. 
His glasses get askew but you fix them, laughing against his smile before kissing him again.   It is for nothing because they fall off a second later, when he grabs you and moves, putting you on your back to fuck you at another angle.  He slides a hand between you, rubbing at you, working you up. Your head falls back, your whole body tingling with the approach of another orgasm. 
“Yes, yes,” he says, no doubt feeling you get tight around him.  It is his moaning that sets you off, your legs around his hips, pulling him in close as you come together. 
He kisses all over your face, both of you laughing when he slightly misses your lips.  You find his glasses and put them back on him, meeting his re-focussed gaze and smiling. 
“Was that an okay demonstration?” he teases.  “Like I said, I’m not very good at drawing.” 
“Maybe so,” you tease back, running your fingers through his hair.  “I might need another one.  Just to be sure.” 
“Just to be sure,” he says, nodding very sagely.  “Good idea.  Maybe after that, I’ll take you out to dinner.  Then we better come back here and try again.”
“Just to be sure,” you say. 
“Just to be sure,” he agrees. 
You are already smiling when he kisses you. 
You have never been more sure about anything in your life. 
2K notes · View notes
enhard · 6 months ago
Note
idk if you saw but there’s this one clip in Idol 1D2N of Sunghoon, rolling his eyes back while groaning after failing to score points ( 18:48-18:50). Please please write about it because I feel like that’s what he looks if someone gives him a mind blowing head after a frustrating day

-🍄
🍄 anon this is perfect just PERFECT
and how he’d become so pouty when he comes back home, wishing you’d get the hint.. you get me?
putting the clip here just for the sake of itđŸ˜©
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park sunghoon — “a long day”
pairing: bf!p.sh x fem!reader
not proofread, enjoy! (MDNI)
you already knew his members were giving him a hard time, not listening to him, doing whatever they wanted, teasing him until he got upset and so on.
you knew because he texted you about it and you were there to comfort him.
sunghoon: [i can’t stay here anymore they keep annoying me for no reason]
[i’m actually fucking done they’re not listening]
[jake did the choreo wrong 5 times already and i told him what he did wrong and he didn’t even care to fix it]
he just keeps ranting. and you’re listening.
you: [baby i know it’s frustrating, if you don’t want to stay there come over after break😓]
[you can talk to me about it, just hang in there a bit more]
sunghoon: [okay love i’ll drop by i love you]
you just send him a silly gif and wait for him to finish his work.
after half an hour or so, you can hear your apartment doorbell ringing. you quickly get up from your couch to open the door just to see him standing in the doorway.
he slightly smiles at you, but you can tell that he’s pissed. he pulls you in his arms, his hands trailing down to grab your waist.
“i missed you.” he says, sounding exhausted from the mental chaos he went through today.
you chuckle at him, sneaking your lips onto his neck to give him sweet and soft kisses.
“i missed you too love.” you say between kisses.
at one point he pulls away to close the door and to sit down on the couch.
you offer him a glass of water and he nods in a way of thanking you.
he drinks a few sips to regather his thoughts and then he starts ranting about his day.
he seems so frustrated with everything that went today and you just feel bad for him, he’s trying his best but he just had a bad day.
he’s fidgeting with his fingers, looking for something to relieve him from the stress..
you know something popped up in his mind when he suddenly looked at you all pouty, being way too clingy and sticking to your arm a little too many times.
all it missed was for him to say it out loud, it was clear what he wanted. instead of you saying it right away, you stood up and got behind the couch.
you slowly leaned over the couch to hug him from behind, giving him kisses on his shoulder.
he smiles at you, getting a bit whiny now.
“loveee.. what are you doing..?” he says, throwing his head back to look at you.
you grab his cheeks, smiling back at him.
“maybe i can help you relax
” you pout back at him. “oh really? and how’s that?” he teases.
“oh you know exactly how, let me suck you off, i’ll make you feel good .. please?” you give him a small kiss on his forehead.
he nods, grabbing onto your arms to pull you closer.
you giggle at him already walking up in front of him again. giving him a smile, you gently get on your knees.
as you palm his crotch with your hand, he can’t help but laugh a bit.
“you’re always so good at finding excuses to fuck me up, aren’t you?” he scoffs.
your smile widens. “mmm.. maybe. i just crave you all the time.”
your hands stop listening to you, moving down to his pants to take them off. you don’t take them off all the way, just enough to expose his boxers.
you lift his shirt up a bit to give him a soft kiss on his abdomen, going back down to kiss his bulge. after a few sweet kisses, you finally take his boxers off.
you lick your lips once your eyes make contact with his cock, all red and waiting for you.
sunghoon furrows his eyebrows looking at you grab the base of his cock and lick at his tip, mumbling sweet words.
“love, do it already. put it in your mouth.”
“such a good girl, so good for me.”
and so on.
you continue licking his tip, abusing it with your tongue and getting to taste his precum. he gasps when he feels his tip in your mouth.
you’re sucking on it, giving it licks here and there while your hand is pumping him up and down slowly. it doesn’t take many strokes for him to start moaning.
“darling please
” he begs. you look up and him smiling, his tip still inside your mouth. you know you’re being a tease and.. he’s pretty frustrated as is, it must not be the time to tease him now.
you push your head down to take him whole. resting your hands on his thighs, you bop your head up and down until his tip reaches the back of your throat.
you choke a little, but at the same time you’re used to him. you’ve done this before. he grabs onto your hair to encourage you to keep going, moaning with every movement of yours.
he throws his head back, rolling his eyes at the same time (just like in the video) feeling you spitting on his cock, getting all messy and sloppy. you’re completely slurping him up, using your hand to stroke him when you decide to focus on that swollen tip of his.
“baby..fuck that feels good.” he moans out. you’re feeling him twitch in your mouth, hitting the roof of your mouth.. how can you not love moments like this. he’s so fucking hot.
as you’re tracing circles around his tip, you hear him cry out again. he’s begging and begging for you to keep going, you’re so good at this and you both know that you are.
he grabs onto your hair tighter just to fuck your throat. he keeps your head in place to thrust up into your mouth. he’s moaning and whimpering exactly how he wants, those noises being like a thank you card for helping him de-stress.
he looks back at you as he’s face fucking you, honestly not caring about much, just thinking about his pleasure. he loves the chokes and gags he hears every so often from you, fuelling him to continue.
after some more powerful thrusts, his voice cracks with his orgasm building in his stomach.
you can only mumble nonsense, whining and humming loudly. he’s about to cum and you’re there to swallow it all.
“baby..i can’t. i need to cum” he whimpers out loud.
he leaves thrusts even faster than the previous ones, his last thrust lasting longer. he cums down your throat, only pulling out of your mouth when you give him the signal that you swallowed it all. he’s noisy. very noisy. but you don’t mind and you couldn’t care less if your neighbours heard.
he pulls his cock away from your mouth, a string of saliva and cum linking them until you give his cock one last kiss. he releases the grasp on your hair, panting and squeezing his eyes shut.
you just smile, standing up to give him a little kiss. his cock is definitely still aching, it’s still hard. you know it’ll take more to help him relax than just a blowjob.
“let me really help you relax now.” you smile confidently.
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kakashixhatakesxwhore · 8 months ago
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Hi! I don’t know if your requests are open but if they are, could you please write headcanons about how Iruka, Itachi and Kakashi would react to seeing a dream about the S/O dying? Thank you!
thank you for the ask, i'm totally game!!
How they would react to a dream about their S/O dying
They being Iruka (đŸ„č), Kakashi (đŸ˜©), and Itachi (đŸ„Ž) - with wildcard picks of Shikamaru (😋) and Sai (đŸ€­) (GN!Reader)
Warnings: talk of death, swearing, lil drinky-poo mention for Kakashi n cigaroot mention for Shikamaru, tell me if this sucks💋
Masterlist💿
Iruka
Iruka dreams about you, on a mission far too dangerous, getting locked into a skirmish and then meeting a gorey demise right in front of him
Wakes up covered in sweat, chilled to the bone, to your concerned voice and gentle hand
He pulls you close in a huff, breathing heavily and quickly - Iruka just can't seem to get enough air until he's got you, on his lap, with his arms wrapped around you and his face buried in your collarbone
You laugh lightly, and scratch his back in slow circles until he's regained enough composure to tell you about the dream
Iruka would be mortified to find out he had been yelling out for you in his sleep, and that being what initially woke you, but he'd be very comforted by your presence and consciousness
He would have some issue getting back to sleep, so one of you would suggest a tea and an early start if the hour was great enough
But, if it was still around midnight, you would flip him to his stomach and perch on his butt, then scratch/rub his back while whispering sweet assurances in his ear for however long he needed to relax again
Terrified of having to live without you, hasn't got a clue how he would be able to see through that kind of fog - he's just grateful for it to have been a figment of his imagination
Kakashi
Kakashi's dream isn't only of you dying, it's of you dying by his own hand
He wakes up with a jolt, turning to find you're safely in bed next to him - still, he holds a finger under your nose to check your breathing
Feeling a burning tingle coursing through him, Kakashi has to get out of bed, he can't just forget about the dream so easily
Without disturbing you, Kakashi gets out of the bedroom entirely and goes to the living room, pours a stiff drink and sits at your bay window while watching the dark sky move
You come out to the living room soon, before he's even done his drink, and you ask if he's coming back to bed
He finishes his drink and tucks you under his arm, steering you both back to the bedroom, feeling poorly about waking you up but feeling quite cared about
Kakashi can't bring himself to tell you about the dream, even if you ask - he didn't want to deal with it the first time, let alone rehash it
Eventually falls back asleep, holding you as closely as humanly possible, drifting off while pressing a million small kisses to your face and head
Itachi
A recurring theme in all of Itachi's dreams is death - familial, friend, himself, but he hates the ones where you die the mostïżŒ
Sometimes, you're killed by another, bested in a fight and demolished in front of Itachi - he can hardly take those seriously, you're far too powerful in the waking world
Other times, it's Itachi, himself, who takes your life - another impossibility, he would never, not even if you had something he coveted
It's the dreams of you and he, sitting together, wasting away with decay and disease - he can't stand those, because they're all too possible and real
He'd wake up with a start, and turn to you, running his fingers through your hair, and over the rosy apples of your cheeks, scouring your body for signs of vitality
You'd wake with a laugh, his fingers tickling your ribs, and Itachi would just hum for you to go back to sleep
Just as you curl up to his chest, he starts having a coughing fit (his lungs sound like sparkling cardboard with your ear right up to his chest) and has to sit up while you rub his back and hit him between the shoulder blades with the heel of your hand
He has to get up to spit out the phlegm and blood he coughed up, but comes right back with a heavy sigh
You promise him you'll stay by his side, through sickness and in health
Though riddled with anguish, Itachi just tells you he loves you, and thanks you for putting up with him, before crawling back into the bed
You two cozy up nicely and you listen as his soft, controlled breathing turns into a light, stuttered wheeze before falling back asleep yourself
Shikamaru
This poor motherfucker can't sleep a full night without at least one sour dream and it's such a drag
He wakes up swearing and shouting when the sour dreams are about you - his dreams never go on long enough for you to die, just for Shikamaru to see you in the grasp of the enemy, scared out of your mind, knowing what's to come
If you're not woken up by his ruckus, he'll surely wake you up to get a good look at you, to get your fearful expression out of his head
You're cranky, having been woken up from a deep slumber, and Shikamaru apologises insincerely before recounting his dream in vivid detail
Of course, this causes a change of tune, but Shikamaru teases you, telling you to apologise for being such a hater after he had such a concerning dream about you
You do, begrudgingly, then ask him to cuddle you again
Shikamaru lights a cigarette and tells you he might not go back to sleep, but leans back into his pillow and puts his arm around you, allowing you to rest on his chest
Despite his claim, Shikamaru almost immediatly falls back asleep, leaving you to slip his cigarette from his fingers, steal a drag, then ash it for him in the tray on his bedside table
He's gripping you so tight, you think he might think you'll disappear if he doesn't
You just sink into his being, taking comfort in his warmth and the rhythm of his heartbeat
Sai
His dreams are quite strange - they never make sense out of the context of Sai's unconscious mind, and even then
They're all very metaphorical and symbolic, and Sai could spend his whole life trying to decipher some of them, instead he just fills a notebook with whatever he can remember
All he can particularly remember from any of his dreams about your death is just a heartwrenching feeling that took over his soul
It would suffocate him, deafen him, blind him
When he wakes up next to you, peaceful and alive, he curses his mind and wishes he could remember the context of the feeling
Sai's just glad it was only a dream, only a manufactured feeling from his subconscious to torture him
He curls up to you, letting that disgusting feeling melt away as you press into him
All Sai can think about as he drifts off to face another vivid, otherworldly dream is how lucky he is to have someone who causes such visceral emotion within him
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sordidmusings · 1 month ago
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How to Break Rules (Sir Crocodile x Reader)
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Art by xuchuan25 on x!
TUMBLR ATE THE FUCKING ASK WHEN I SAVED IT AS A DRAFT 🙃 luckily I had it saved in my doc and it was anon so they wouldn't have been notified anyway
Anon Ask: Crocodile doesn't seem like the type to kiss during sex unless he's down bad. Maybe he starts a casual relationship with a strict "no kissing on the lips" rule but anywhere else is fair game. It's fun to think of the different ways a possible "first kiss" could happen when he's already rawed you lol and the different reactions if he initiates it or you do and whether it's spur of the moment or calculated.
A/N: OOOOOOOOOO love this and have actually come across this in my own travails haha as someone who loves service, there is such a rush in being told “you can kiss me anywhere but my lips; you have to earn that” đŸ˜© Like it’s just dangling that fruit of how much of a rush it’ll be when you earn the right, when you’re told you’ve been so good for so long. It is also kind of a wild and intense dynamic to be in to have done So Much Stuff but not a simple kiss 💀💀💀
I will also say that I have a WIP smut request in this vein that has been FIGHTING ME FOR MONTHS đŸ„Č except it’s reader who has put down the rule of “no kissing” and the reason is because love is a requirement for it. Hoping this exercise helps get more flowing for continuing that beloved behemoth đŸ™đŸ» Ficlets and thoughts in bulleted form below! They get longer as they go because that’s what tends to happen for me lol
Word Count: ~3k total over a few scenarios and such
Warnings: brief allusions to sex but nothing nsfw, gn!reader, not actually unrequited love, a few flavors of reader personality, from very bratty to docile, for dynamic variety đŸ€ŒđŸ», jealousy/possessiveness
Goodies below the cut - dig in (‘∀’●)♡
~ ~ ~ ‱‱‱ ✩✩✩ ‱‱‱ ~ ~ ~
At first I was a bit clinical in my brainstorming of this, more stuck on the grid of who does it to who 
He kisses you
Involuntarily
Poor croc is finally at his limit in keeping his lips from yours and being so deep in indulging in all the rest of you is his undoing. Every piece of you feels so good even though every moment with you is agony - agony from having you but not all of you, being with each other but not belonging to each other. He was Tantalus and you were his fruit and drink, always slipping just past his fingertips. If he could taste you, share your breaths, feel your voice, then maybe he’d finally stop wasting away. 
On purpose
You’ve been vexing him with your teasing, always gifting him the touch of your soft lips everywhere but his own. He didn’t want to be the one to fold on his own rule, but no matter how loose he got your mind, how far you were from forming words, how pliant and placating, you’d kiss him and kiss him and kiss him but never his lips. It didn’t matter if he hovered his own over yours close enough to taste your voice on the air, you’d never push forward. It was maddening. 
One day he finally barks at you after you turn your face away, “Why do you always run?” 
You answer, confused and honest, “You told me I wasn’t allowed.” 
The response is a hook at your neck, pulling you closer; a hand in your hair, cradling you; a mouth on your own, consuming you.
A promise to you that you’re truly his
This Sir Croc warms more to the idea of you being his with no qualms stemming from his own pride. 
It took a long while, but your home in Croc’s life was built brick by brick, sure and steady and obvious. He noticed it and kept an eye on it like he did with everything, but he did not reject nor rush it. No, it was inevitable beyond his will, the way you slipped into his head and chest and nested there. No stubbornness would stop the way it warmed him. No clinging would allow you deeper into a space that was always meant to be yours. As he first noticed the foundation you’d set, saw the promise of his future in your care and vision, he knew he was meant to exist next to you. 
He waited for this understanding to sink in you too. It never did. 
No matter his well-thought gifts, steadfast support, or opulent compliments, you never pressed to take more promises from him than he offered himself, never set to make claim to him outside of closed doors. He knew he had to change that. 
The thought possesses him the next time he brings you around with him and someone has the gaul to approach you. They ask about why Croc keeps you so close to see if they had a chance to stick to your side instead. That won’t do. 
Croc stalks over quickly, seeping dominance but not quite aggression. When he gets to you, he places a weighty hand on your right shoulder and leans over the left, fully encasing you in his presence. 
All the other man sees is the threat leaning over your shoulder and he scatters before you can finish saying “-my boss.”
Much happier with Croc surrounding you, you lean back into his warm chest. A low chuckle plays with the hair around your ear, causing you to shiver in delight.
“A boss? Is that all I am to you?” There’s a teasing lilt to his deep voice, one steeped in deep fondness.
“Of course not,” you assure. He guides you to turn with his hook under your chin, letting his fingers tickle the back of your neck to your other shoulder as you spin to face him. The smile on your lips is easy and familiar and softens Croc into clay, ready and happy to be molded into whatever you want. Yet you always just ease him back into his own shape, each time with fewer cracks and dents, waiting for him to be as solid as he’d like for when he enters the kiln.
“Then tell me, dear,” his voice is as warm and rich as the purple of his eyes. He pulls his cigar from his lips with two fingers. You watch his lips as he speaks. “What am I?”
Before the falter in your smile can fully steal it away, Croc slips forward to taste it on your lips. You freeze and Croc snakes his hook behind your neck to pull you forward, but by the time it gets there you’re already pressing into him. You’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t savor the feeling of finally belonging fully to each other.
You kiss him
Power Move
Sir Croc never seemed able to control you and he loved and loathed it in equal parts. It’s one of the reasons he sought you in the first place. You knew exactly when to push and when to follow, when to challenge and when to submit. It was a very rare day when you genuinely got on his nerves.
Today is a very rare day.
You’re clearly upset with Sir Croc - not leaning into his affection, barely answering his attempts at conversation, unwilling to look at his face for more than a second. More than anything you refuse to tell him what’s wrong.
Now, you’re not doing it just to piss him off; you don’t feel quite allowed to be upset about the issue so you don’t want to share. You don’t want to have an attitude but every time you see him it reminds you of the realization that you’d do anything for him. Worse than that, that thought was immediately followed by the Knowing that you aren’t his and the uncertainty that you ever will be.
Right now, you feel like you’re not his to have, but his to use.
Though, he does give you special treatment. He lets you closer to him than any others, treats you with gentleness except when you corner him into using a firm hand. He’s never even used his power over you when it’s not for play and pleasure. Except for one little rule.
No kissing on the lips. 
You thought you’d earn it months ago. You’ve earned everything else, every sweet treatment and treasure you could think of will be yours if you ask it of him. He’s come to spoil you even more rotten than a queen with her fat lap dog, and yet you’ve not gotten a single kiss to the lips.
It’s begun to feel like he’s keeping it from you to let you know he’ll never fully give himself to you because he never fully intended to keep you. And it hurts.
And now he’s mad because you’re mad but you can’t tell him why you’re mad and the whole thing is maddening.
You watch him knock the ash off his dwindling cigar into the ornate ceramic tray on his desk. The heavy sigh accompanying it annoys you. Why is he the one sighing?
Oh, now he’s rubbing at his temple. He thinks he’s frustrated? You’ll show him frustration.
“Should I go?” You ask, peeking at him from the corner of your narrowed eyes.
“Do you want to go?” Croc rebuts, sounding confounded and at the end of his rope.
You eye him unhappily. 
Instead of responding, you stand up from the leather sofa across from his grand desk. It’s a decent distance, two chairs to its sides are placed closer, but of course you chose to sit away from him today. It’s to your advantage now; you need space for your next move.
You make your way to him slowly, swerving your hips smoothly the way he likes and adding a teeny bit of weight to each step - both to be closer to stomping and to have the motion give a slight bounce to all the soft parts of you for him to watch.
And watch he does - his face melts into the hungry admiration he saves for you, albeit still a bit guarded. 
When you get to his desk, instead of addressing him you gracefully gather the papers spread across it into your hands. You take a moment to pretend to scan through and consider them, only to frisbee them onto one of the chairs.
Croc’s eyes turn sharp and burning.
“Brat-” he cuts himself off, looking at your face and picking up that you’re having even less fun than he is. He sucks in a tense breath and hisses it back out. Let’s try that again.
“Am I working too much and you need more attention? Is that why you’re having a fit?”
Good enough.
“If I was having a fit, the whole base would know,” you bite back at him.
Instead of arguing or redirecting, Sir Croc settles on watching you. Nothing’s worked, so he’ll just allow you to take this wherever it’s headed.
You plant your palms on his desk and let the quiet linger. He lets you lean into his space and stare him down. He’s unsure what you’re looking for and honestly so are you. You’re unsure if you find it but you do find some fortitude in the settling air. You finally speak up.
“Do you remember the rule you set when we started this
” your eyes flit around, searching for the right word, “agreement?”
“No kissing on the lips unti-”
Your hand is fisted in his shirt, your lips are warm and insistent against his.
You expect anger, pulling back, or even shoving hands. Instead, Croc is scrambling out of his seat, careful to keep your lips locked, and helping you to clamber over the desk towards him with a greedy grip. You won’t be free from his taste or hold the whole night through. Now that they’ve had you, they’ll haunt you all your days, keeping him alive with each time they possess you.
You sneak your way into it
Sir Crocodile doesn’t get to enjoy late risings often. That’s why he makes sure to wring them of all they’re worth, and that’s only become better with you there. 
Knowing that the morning lacked a rude awakening, you both indulged in a night of the senses - seeing the sights, hearing live music, eating and drinking with abandon before coming home to get your fill of each other in all five senses, especially touch.
As Sir Croc comes back to his body, floating from the abyss of sleep one breath at a time, he finds his sense of touch being coaxed and teased. Gentle fingers brush across his skin along familiar trails made to map and admire his large form. They round over muscles, press into places of softness, tickle at the sensitive skin of his wrist, his blunted forearm, his hips, his neck.
The touches all feel so full of adoration and something else he’s felt more and more from you. He’s finding it harder and harder to ignore, especially because he’s used to adoration and there’s something different in yours - something softer, gentler, surer. Something he is sure by now is genuine love.
Each time it comes out he lets it wash over him as best he can without solidifying its bond. After all, this was never meant to be love.
But feeling your affection made it impossible to ignore how much better life would be if he always woke up with you.
Sir Croc encourages more of your touches, following them where he could and bedding his cheek into the top of your head. You happily snuggle deeper against him and his heart leaps.
Knowing he’s awake, you begin placing sweet kisses against his skin, teasing at the edge of his trimmed chest hair. He lets out a long breath with the undertone of a content groan rumbling through it. You smile against the plush of his pec, happy he’s still fuzzy from sleep and primed for your plot
Your lips trail and massage higher, over clavicle and to neck. He tilts his jaw away to give you free reign of the sensitive skin from his throat to his ear. Your thigh mimics the rising of your lips, trailing slow and tender over Croc’s front until it brushes from his thigh to his stomach. The rise and fall with his breathing is calming under you and the steadiness made it easier to notice when his breathing hitched and his muscles twitched against you.
His hand returned your affection mindlessly, simply following whatever instinct compelled him. Mostly it trailed from the nape of your neck to your hip and back, taking small moments to press you closer when he didn’t want one of your kisses to move quite yet.
Everything was deep breaths echoing against skin, the comforting pressure of bodies melding wherever you touched, the dance of give and take with affection. Each place you pushed your love, Croc opened himself to feel more of it, even when you left his shoulder chest and neck to explore his scarred cheek
He doesn’t even hesitate to let you near when you first trail the tip of your nose over the strong angle cut by his jaw. The barely there stubble blended to a moment of pure softness before being interrupted by the ridges of his scar
Croc is fully and willingly enchanted by your soft and smooth actions. He couldn’t bear to make you stop, couldn’t care for any pretense or boundary of his it would break so long as you don’t stop touching him so sweetly. His whole body feels light and alive and he’s struck with the realization that he’s as in deep as you are.
You place your first kiss to his face on his scar where it cuts across his cheekbone. He presses just a millimeter deeper into the plush of your lips
You follow the path of the scar, feeling his lashes tickle the tip of your nose on your way. All the while Croc keeps his languid caresses going on your skin, still lulled by recent sleep and the comfort of your touch and warmth and the want for more.
When you get to the bridge of his nose, you break contact to press your foreheads together. His hand slips up your back to rest at the back of your neck, holding you to him. You bump your nose on his and he bumps back. You tilt to leave a kiss on his cheek. His finger tail up to softly scratch at the base of your skull. You smile against him and feel his own cheek rise momentarily against you.
Sir Crocodile feels more free of thought and obligation than he has in years. Your slow acts of worship have brought out a peace in him that he’s rarely known. There is no rush or push, just a calmness and sureness that this is where he should be and how he should feel. That you both belong here.
And then something changes when you kiss right outside the corner of his lip.
He is left wanting.
You linger at the spot before moving just barely away and coming back just a hair closer to his own lips.
Each near miss felt unnatural and unsatiating, quickening his heart and breath in his discomfort and discontent. The hand at your head goes from caressing to holding, urging you to stop fleeing and teasing.
You smile again against him and this time there’s no mirrored grin from him; he’s falling too quickly into a pit of need, one he didn’t notice you digging with every caress and kiss.
You tease  your lips to the corner of his, planning to press more firmly directly on target, but his hand grips you firmly and he’s turning and insistent lips slot hungrily against yours.
You gasp in delight while he shudders out a breath he’s been holding since he met you.
Then I had a better angle come to me by remembering a basic writing preference, that the circumstances around the kiss - the ‘why’ not just the ‘what’ are much better for generating a scene, luckily in the above I think I amended that mistake when I went into more detail! (keeping these more to the stream I originally wrote them in cuz I fear I went on too long above LOL)
He kisses you after fearing for your safety
He kisses you for fear you’ll leave
You kiss him in anger, wanting to prove you’re worthy
He kisses you while you sleep, too afraid for you to know the hold you’ve had on him all along
He kisses you to soothe you, pull you from your fears and sorrows to just float with him in your little bubble away from all the hurts of the world, held aloft by sensation and need and affection
He kisses you to possess you, someone else coming too close and needing the message
You kiss him in joy, ignoring all the dirt and grime that came back with him from Impel Down
You kiss him with a sorrowful heart, needing to comfort the man who was larger than life now sat sadly before you bare of all, even his golden hook and ego
You kiss each other, your lips had sweetly made their way up his neck and across that strong jaw, coming to rest unsure right at the corner of his lips, your shaky breathes puff sweetly across his cheek as he tilts his head to rest temple to forehead, the turn to face you fully is slow and caressing, his own breath coming to mingle with yours, your noses bushing gently. The barest tilt of his head has your lax lips tentatively brush his, just the faintest tickle of skin on skin. A shaky exhale - his or yours you’re not sure - and your lips press more surely, first easing in like the first step into dark waters before you both succumb to diving under. A fierce grip slips to the nape of your neck, endlessly dragging you closer
~ ~ ~ ‱‱‱ ✩✩✩ ‱‱‱ ~ ~ ~
Thank you for reading and thank you anon for your ask 💜 I'm gonna be better at getting back to the others (life was being life lol) and up next I have some comfort fics and x marine reader! And perhaps a little filth đŸ‘ŒđŸ»
Masterlist
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folkloresthings · 1 year ago
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BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.
in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.
( charles leclerc x singer!au )
track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.
âœ©âĄ± warnings: i don’t think so
TWITTER.
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yourusername don’t leave me alone
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danielricciardo đŸ„ș
user they seem so happy awh
‷ user she’s probably just using him as a rebound on her ex, he deserves better
‷ user girl stfu he’s not going to marry you
madelineargy you’re glowing 😍😍😍😍
user when did this happen???
landonorris the last picture is uncalled for
charles_leclerc 😘
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charles_leclerc heaven sent
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scuderiaferrari our favs đŸ«¶
yourusername why are you outing me as a fangirl 😭
‷ charles_leclerc honey, you do that yourself
user he called her honey im—
carlossainz55 bring her to the paddock this weekend!!
‷ yourusername already coming! can’t wait to see my favourite ferrari boy đŸ˜©
‷ charles_leclerc rude
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the last comment makes you smile, one last look to the picture of charles on the screen (one you had taken) before you lock your phone, tucking it into the bag on your shoulder. it had been a magical few weeks — that time in a relationship that felt like you were floating, on top of the world. despite all of the comments online, criticism of die hard formula one fans, nothing could touch the pair of you. charles leclerc had swept you off of your feet, and there was nothing you could have done to stop it.
there was a party being thrown that night, one for all of the drivers, a small opportunity to relax after weeks and weeks of racing. lewis had sent you the location, some big nightclub in barcelona that the fia had rented out. full of celebrities, some you knew, some you didn’t. but you knew the drivers, at least.
“y/n!” lando slurs out, stumbling into your view as soon as you’d stepped inside the loud, dark room. the music was pumping, vibrating through your entire body and shaking your chest. you grinned at the young english driver’s evident drunkenness, many drinks ahead of you. “so glad you made it!”
“hi, lando,” you chuckle, patting his damp shoulder. he takes your hand, murmuring something about how nice your dress looked, before dragging you to the area that the driver’s had made themselves comfortable. each and every one of them greeted you kindly, hugging you and kissing your cheek. lewis slung an arm across your shoulder, pulling you into a photo without warning.
“hey! she was my best friend before she was charles’ girlfriend — back off.”
a smile tugs at your lips, fondly leaning into lewis’ grip. as they continue drinking, you make yourself comfortable with the other girlfriends, each of who had taken you under their wing.
“hey, have you seen charles?” you lean across to talk right in lily’s ear, the only way she’d have heard you. her eyes dart around, trying to place the monegasque boy amongst the crowds. she shakes her head, mirroring your previous position.
“last i saw him, he was going to get drinks.”
you send her a grateful smile, getting up to look over to where the bar was. you wanted to see him, desperately. to kiss him again, to have him hold you too close as you dance. as much as you loved lewis and the others, charles was the reason you were here.
excitement danced in your eyes, lovesick as you searched for the boy you’d committed to memory. you find him, right at the side of the bar, waiting for a drink. you push past someone to get closer, widening your view of him. your view of him and another: a brunette girl. she’s got her hand in his hair, her lips dancing near his ear. he laughs at whatever she says, handing her a glass of something.
your heart drops. right from your chest to the floor below you, and even though you haven’t had a drop to drink you swear you could throw up right there. he knew you were coming, didn’t he? either way, he didn’t seem to care. preoccupied with another, too cosy and too close, you want to laugh. how could you have been so stupid?
after minutes of being frozen to the same spot, shaken awake by the salt water that drips down your cheeks. fight or flight kicks in, six inch heels wobbling as you hurry backwards, pushing through everyone once again. tunnel vision to the exit, shoulder crashing roughly with another. a hard grip turns you to look at them, the silhouette of lewis blurred from your teary eyes.
“y/n, what—”
“i have to go. i’m sorry.”
TWITTER.
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writer’s note: whoops sorry
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thefatesofspring · 5 months ago
Text
The acotar fandom will forever be funny to me because by Tamlin’s very own actions, he is the very definition of that one quote/viral TikTok sound that goes something like “the hero will sacrifice the one he loves for the world but the villain would burn the world down for the one he loves” or however it goes.
Tamlin literally sacrificed Prythian twice for Feyre!! 1st was by sending her home when she was still human the 2nd time was by playing spy with Hybern but also using that opportunity to free Feyre from her bargain to Rhysand & get her back so she’s safe.
Rhysand on the other hand

‱ sexually assaulted & exploited Feyre
‱ violated & embarrassed her mental/private thoughts & then exposed them to Tamlin in front of Lucien
‱ knowingly let an unknowing Feyre be used as live bait for the attor just to see if it was going to continue to follow them & attack
‱ Had her steal the book of breathing from Summer Court & nearly died in the process
‱ let her walk into the weavers cottage without telling her that their was a high possibility she would die in the process to retrieve a ring
a ring that’s meant to prove how much she loves & deserves Rhysand even though she had already done the above by this point & didn’t need to do anything more to prove her love for Rhysand
‱ kept the dangers of her pregnancy away from her
‱ knew that Ianthe wasn’t who Tamlin or Feyre believed her to be & didn’t warn either of them about her proposal to him for an heir & power, which ultimately lead to them being blindsided by Ianthe’s betrayal.
‱ twisted the piece of bone in her infected arm to the point where she nearly blacked out from the pain
‱ complained about 500 gold marks Nesta spent & read the bill which in turn embarrassed Feyre in front of everyone at breakfast, even though 500 gold marks is nothing to him, he has openly admitted that the IC drink & gamble all the time & worse etc
I could go on & on but it’s just funny because the fandom particularly go crazy over that audio & the whole time it doesn’t even apply to Rhysand but to Tamlin but because Tamlin is blonde and doesn’t handle his temper/emotions in the best way, people will jumps through saturns rings to “explain” why that’s Rhysand & not Tamlin even though canon text states otherwiseđŸ˜©đŸ˜‚
Anyway
thank you for coming to my TedTalk
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melodic-haze · 8 months ago
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Can I ask about sub Arlecchino being fucked with a strap-on in his office? I love your writing and sub Arlecchino is so... đŸ˜©
☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!fem!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Mommy kink 😜 aka reader is the 'Mother' figure to Arle's 'Father' ahahahahahah, reader with a strap referred to as a dick, overstimulation, semi-public? It's in her office so
☆ — NOTES: THANK YOUUU OMG I'M HAPPY YOU LIKE MY WRITING ANON❗❗SORRY THIS WAS ROTTING IN THE ASKBOX I had to do some stuff 😭😭😭 but it's okay bc I come back with a VENGEANCE
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Ohhh dude the thing that just popped into my head you're NOT READY (delusional)
While she thought that battling her own children + the Traveller was the best move, it had kinda very much irked you. "I had trained them, it's fine," she says dismissively at the time when you confronted her and something inside you just kinda! Snapped!!!
If a Father has to have a hard hand on his children, then a Mother contrasts that by giving them a gentle touch
That DOES mean that you are to put anyone who threatens your children in any way, and Arlecchino is NO exception whatsoever
And what better way to punish her than to give her a taste of her own medicine in.. a different context?
One hand grabbing a fistful of her hair as you pushed her head down on the desk and the other clenching onto her hip as you moved her on your length, you're drilling into your lover relentlessly despite the slurred sobs that she had let out.
She had cum so many times by now, you didn't bother to keep count after the third time. Through that, however, you hadn't even entertained the mere thought of stopping, only reluctantly doing so when you ran out of stamina or needed to drink water—it's not as if you let her catch her breath as you did so, with the vibrator you had shoved into her at max setting whenever you needed to step away.
Your assault hasn't relented in the least, no matter how many times Arlecchino begged you to stop, no matter how many times she said to do better, no matter how many times she pleaded for you to go easier on her.
"Why would I give way to lenience when you hadn't done the same?" You mused coldly as you continued to plow into her over and over again, "You deem yourself exempt to my wrath, Peruere?"
You feel her try to shake her head in response before quickly following it up with a slurred defense, "N-No, 'm nn-- mmng! Not.. I--"
You clicked your tongue and gave her ass a loud smack, which earns you a garbled moan from the one underneath you, "You can't even form coherent sentences because of something you initially regarded as an 'unnecessary' action.. but that's okay."
The auditory mixture of her excess of slick between her thighs, your skin coming in contact every time you bottomed out inside of her, the pornographic noises that escaped her lips... It was all downright sinful, something completely unbecoming of her position.
But right now, she didn't care less. Or couldn't, more like, considering the complete lack of thought in her head. The only remaining thing within her mind was you and the way you put her in her place.
And the both of you knew that she relished the feeling of having things out of her control.
"You don't need to answer me," you continued, leaning down to press a kiss on the back of her neck.. before shoving her face down roughly as you straightened back up, "you just need to be put in your place, baby. Understand?"
You actually receive a desperate nod amongst the constant surge of white-hot overstimulation and constant orgasm.
"Good... Just don't resist and let mommy discipline you properly."
As if on cue, she cums again with a jolt, much to your delight.
Wanna fuck her so hard that her juices drip onto the floor and slide down on the side of the desk 😞😞 oughhghghh
There's that RISK of being caught in the midst of your lil session too—you could have it locked all along and while normal everyday Arlecchino would've noticed it perfectly fine, the Arlecchino you have underneath you is wayyyy too fucked out to actually realise in the moment so she's panicking but also? Her arousal is actually RAMPED UP are you kidding me
She won't admit to exhibitionism but there's smth There when she thinks of how the world would know that you have such a powerful Hold on her đŸ«¶
But rn she doesn't care to move, not when her thighs are quivering and her pussy's aching to be filled all over again, practically getting used to the feeling of you inside her
Godddd break her enough and she might not be able to live without you â˜șâ˜ș or maybe you already have who knows â˜șâ˜șâ˜șâ˜șâ˜șâ˜ș just saying the moment you donned the title of a Mother was the moment that she was indesputably yours for you to do as you saw fit â˜șâ˜șâ˜șâ˜șâ˜șâ˜șâ˜ș
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hungrykeaton · 10 days ago
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So you're out for dinner with a ffa and it is restaurant #3 of a colourful day. You're more than a little full and you're not just "hey, a fat guy" bloated: you're into "wow, those jeans are about to burst, and he keeps burping" obviously-stuffed. But you know and she knows that you can hold a lot more, so you are going to keep ordering and eating until she says you're done.
In your wildest fantasies, how does she react to the situation?
Is she delighted, dragging you into place after place, gleefully showing off her prize hog? Patting your belly and adding an extra side with a devious grin when the server asks, "are you sure? That's a lot of food."
Or is she kind of embarassed too, nervously trying to tug down a shirt that won't cover the belly anymore, or pretending she doesn't notice, pretending she isn't about to burst from her own private enjoyment. Eager to get the order and get out of there, so she can have you to herself back in the car.
Or maybe you'd prefer something in between: an innocently oblivious act. As if she can't tell how you're starting to hurt, as if she can't tell how everyone is staring. And then insisting you eat every bite of what she ordered as if it is perfectly reasonable, as if she can't tell that you will pop a button when you finish the drink. And even after, expecting you to finish her uneaten portion, even though it is so clear that you won't be able to struggle out of your seat after. She'll just feign surprise when you say you need a minute. Oh, really? Why, did you overdo it a little?
Umf umf umfffff đŸ„”đŸ„”đŸ„” gotta reread these a bit đŸ„”
But yeah number three is awesome. Something about her being oblivious to how big I am (but still making the occasional “that’s a lot of food” and “you look pretty full) is really hot to me. Because it also opens it up for her to push some food over to me and offer it to me like a sweet gesture, meanwhile I’m sweating because I’m just so fucking full I feel like my jeans are gonna burst at any moment. But we both know I gotta garbage disposal it đŸ˜©
Also the contrast of her just being normal, cheery and polite to the waiter when ordering throughout the night as I look rounder and more uncomfortable or disbelief after each restaurant. I’d be so fucking full that it’d be difficult to order more as I’m just concentrating on my next under the breath gasp of air.
But tbh any of these would be awesome, if she wants to be nervous too about how big I’m getting that kinda makes me more excited to eat even more and get it even bigger. My brain just thinks that is she’s going crazy over this gut now, pack another entree in it and see what happens đŸ˜©
(Also multiple restaurants in a day is hot hot hot)
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repulsiveliquidation · 1 year ago
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hey :) first of all love love love your writing, literally never fails to make me drip lol
also don’t know if youre up for ideas atm but if you are i have an idea for a short (or long) leah blurb based on THAT suit. i can’t get this scenario out of my head: her coming home after the event and riding r’s strap with her open shirt and the tie still around her neck. and just her being needy and desperate to cum.
good excuse.
Leah Williamson x Reader [SMUT! blurb.] not formatted, I did this on my phone. God my head is burning from the bleach. Hope you like this one, that suit was đŸ˜©đŸ˜źâ€đŸ’š
“You dressed love?”
“Yes, can you help me with my tie?”
“Mm, c’mere.”
You stand in front of here, undoing her collar and tying her tie for her. She smiles, you lean in and give her a kiss.
“There. All done. You look smashing babe.”
“I’ve had it in my wardrobe for a while but I needed a good excuse to wear it, today seemed fitting.”
“You look hot. Like you mean business.”
“You go be a pretty girl on the red carpet and I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of after babydoll.”
//
Leah comes home way past midnight, a little tipsy from the celebratory drinks she’s had with the girls for Mary’s big win. Alex drops her off, grinning when Leah throws herself at you and immediately starts kissing your neck.
“You’ve got an interesting night ahead of ya. She couldn’t stop talking about coming home to you and having some fun.”
“She did, did she? Naughty Leah, discussing our bedroom habits in public.”
Alex leaves with a loud chuckle, yelling about how she didn’t want to know any more than Leah had already blabbed. Leah had started to strip already, her shirt half open and tie partially undone.
She stands in the door frame, blonde hair framing her face. Her curves are illuminated by the dim lighting throughout the house, casting a soft glow around her magnificent body.
“Hi baby, missed me?” She asks, sauntering over to you while sensually swaying her hips.
“Mhm, did you have a good time angel?”
“The best. But I missed you.” She whines, arms wrapping around your neck with a pout on her lips. “Mary won, did you see?”
“Yes darling, watched the whole thing lovey.” You tell her, gently picking her up. She wraps her legs around your waist, kissing your neck gently.
“Looked so pretty on the red carpet, my girl. Made me jealous I couldn’t go with you.”
“Next time, I’m just gonna bring you with me. Don’t care who sees. Wanna look pretty on your arm.” She slurs as you sit on the edge of the bed. She crawls off your lap, kneeling in front of you. She nudges her head into your lap, resting her head against your thigh. You stroke her hair, leaning down to kiss her cheek.
“What did you tell Alex and the girls we were going to do, sweetheart?”
“Told them I wanted to ride your cock. Maybe have you pound into me from behind while holding the tie because I’m a slut.”
Alcohol made Leah Williamson bolder than she already was. A direct Leah always got what she wanted.
“How about we make that little dream of yours come true hm?”
You stand, pulling out your strap. She liked this one, it filled her in all the right places. You strip and put it on, she watches with glossed over eyes. You sit back down on the bed, she presses her face back into your crotch and begins to kiss the toy. Her lips wrap around the tip, sucking softly.
You run your fingers through her hair as she sucks, her eyes locked onto yours. Your hand rests behind her head, pulling her onto the cock more. She gags, pulling away and grinning.
“I love that sound baby,” you tell her, leaning down to her ear, “do it again.”
She nods hard, sucking deeper on your cock. She gags three more times, slurping noisily on the spit-covered toy. You pull her up, kissing her passionately. She immediately clambers into your lap, cock nudged against her pussy.
Three fingers slip into her, meeting little to no resistance as she’s aroused beyond belief. You grin, fingertips pressed to her sweet spot.
“Oh darling, you’re soaked.”
“Please baby, really need your cock
”
“It’s all yours, baby girl. Go on and ride it, I know you wanted to.”
She suddenly climbs off your lap, turns around and grabs your cock. She whines as she slides down onto it, gripping your thighs tight as she begins to ride.
“Oh fuck
!”
Leah bounces harder, throwing her head back as your cock brushes up against all those lovely little spots inside her. She cries out for you, grasping your knees tighter. You have a tight grip on her waist, helping her ride as your eyes never leave the place you’re both connected to.
A hard spank to her ass makes her legs give out, slumping back onto you. She’s panting and whining, before your hands pull her legs open and pick her up while standing.
You open her legs and hold her up, thrusting up and bringing her down on your cock. She screams, one hand holding onto you as the other fondles her dripping clit.
“Fuck, fuck, please!”
You move her onto the bed, arching her back deep as you immediately begin to pound into her. You grab the spot-soaked tie around her neck and pull on it tight, fucking into her pussy roughly.
With a leg propped up on the bed, you angle into her sweet spot, she cries out and desperately tries to find something to hold onto. You pull her back against your chest, hips grinding into you sweet spot.
“This what you were telling our friends we were going to do baby?”
“Y-Yes!” She croaked out.
“You’re gonna come for me, hm? Gonna come all over my cock, Leah?”
“Fucking hell, yes!”
You pick up the pace, gripping the tie and her arms tight behind her, pushing her back down onto the bed on her front. You bruisingly grip her hips instead, hips jack-hammering into her sloppy pussy.
“Y/N!” she screams, coming hard. She shudders and smiles in pleasure, your hips gently turning into a deep grind to drag out her high.
She slumps into the bed satisfied as you pull out and begin to clean her up.
All tucked into your side in bed, she slips her leg between yours and holds on tight. She’s got fluids in her and two Advils on the bedside table for when she wakes up with a little hangover.
“I love you,” she mumbles quietly into your neck, eyes heavy with sleep.
“I love you too, my girl,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss on her temple, “sweet dreams, my silly girl.”
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cocoadropp · 1 year ago
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pls pls pls write one where a waiter keeps flirting with y/n and she ignores his advances and eren gets so proud that he takes her home and rewards her for being a good girl AHHHH!!
ughhhhh đŸ˜©đŸ˜©
Eren decided to take you to a nice dinner on a Saturday evening, your hair freshly done, nails freshly done, eyelashes freshly did just during the morning and the afternoon just for this day, just for this date. You loved looking good with your man because he also looked good as well, he got fair compliments as well as you and maybe you even more so, i mean who wouldn’t like a woman like you with a body like that?
Your black dress sat nicely, pushing your boobs together with your gold chain on, ysl heels clicking against the marble like floor while you waited for your waitress to come. “I like the restaurant layout, it’s nice.” You hum, lips pouting with your chin in hand. Then you look at your man, hair down, face clear and lips pink spreading into a gentle smile. He also worn his gold chain, wanted to be like you, but his has your name.
Something about the way your necklace has no trance of Eren’s name but his do made butterflies form in his stomach, like you had him on a leash. Your eyes looks down at his black button up shirt, ironed and clean. You bit your glossed lips but was interrupted by your waiter. “Hello, i’m Nathan and i will be you guys waiter for today. May i start with your drinks
ma’am?” Eren side eyes the waiter like you guys weren’t here together so he should have suggested the drinks together.
He brushed it off as thinking it was some type of mannerism. “Mhm yes, i’d like a blueberry pomegranate lemonade. Whatd’ you want baby?” You smile and eren takes notice you also notice the mans attention towards you. “I’d like water, for now.” He hums, and the waiter stays there for a second, looking at you and then moves away. You go back simply looking through the menu humming along to the piano music in the back.
It wasn’t long before the man came back, with only one drink. And you would of known, it was only yours. “Hm, wheres the water?” You asked as you sat up, the man blushes and fidget on his toes. “Oh silly me, I must’ve forgotten, distracted by a beauty.” you frown and roll your eyes, “yes my boyfriend really is a beauty.” You laugh slightly and the man stands still giving eren a glance as he sits there smiling at the man. “O-oh im not gay i was t-talking about-,” you scoff and told him to go the water.
“It’s so hard being a sexy woman eren, im tired already.” You fake yawn. Eren bites his lip and nods a little. You almost thought eren was upset, thinking if you said anything that may have made the waiter think you were head over hills, but that was before you got home, before you even stepped foot through the door.
You were slammed against the wall behind the front door, wet lips kissing against your coco butter smelling neck. “O-oh gosh.” You breath, barely even understanding what just happened. “My pretty baby, so loyal and so fucking sexy.” He groans in your neck. Grabbing on your thick thighs and spreading them, your heels click against the floor when you almost stumble over. “H-ha t-thank you,” you moan when his hand goes and cups around your fat lips through your red laced panties.
“Had me hard in the restaurant baby, just f-for fuckin breathing.” He rubs two fingers on your swollen clit that throbbed, “wanna please you so good right now, for being such a good girl yea? you so pretty baby, tell me what you want. I swear to you i’ll do it.”
Thats what has you face down and ass in the air on the edge of the bed while Eren stands, fucking your sloppy pussy while both of your hands spread your ass cheeks, seeing your wetness all over his dick, he moves his dick out slowly only to thrust back in harshly, shoving every inch up in you just to hear you gasp and grip on your own ass. One of his hands move up your back and grip the back of your neck and his thrust turns faster, now hitting you all up in your spot that has your toes curling.
“R-right there daddy.” Your moans turn quiet, now only your mouth open and drool on your pillow. “Right there baby? It feels good right there?” He says it so sweetly and nice as he kept his pace up, spitting on your tight hole that never been touched and he circles his thumb right there, your pussy clenches around him and his moans, moving his hand from your neck just to smack your ass. He shoves the tip of his thumb in your hole and you moan loudly,
Moving back and forth on his thick dick, creaming on it, “D-daddy! m’cumming, pl-please ugh fuck.” Your crying now, you move one of your hands from your ass cheek to your clit and start rubbing furious circles on it, you felt your stomach feeling funny before the wetness begin to seek out of it through your finger tips. You sniffled and cried. “Yea mama, just like that. Such a good girl for me hm? Deserve the world pretty. mhm deserve it all.”
“I’m almost finished with you baby. 2 more.”
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torialefay · 10 months ago
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6 with CHANGBIN

 đŸ˜©
One Hell of a Workout 💣
boyfriend!changbin x horny!fem!reader smut
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✹ synopsis: your & your boyfriend's sleep schedule is fucked up, which in turn means your gym schedule is also fucked up. late night workout sessions may end up not being so bad 👀
✹ wc: ~2k
✹ warnings: smut ahead- minors DNI; cursing; unprotected sex, public sex
‱ you knew you shouldn't, but you couldn't help it. changbin just looked too fucking good.
‱ you'd gone to the gym with him superrr late. not because you were particularly dedicated, but because it is currently only 5 PM in the country you just got back from... and seeing his arms and shoulders as he worked out was never a bad sight.
‱ something about the smell of him and the way his little curls stuck to his head once he started to sweat got you riled up more than anything else in the world.
‱ as you were finishing your squat reps, you couldn't help but to watch the contour of the muscles in his back out of the corner of your eye. you were the only person bin would workout in front of without a shirt on. and god, the way he looked at the end of his lat pulldowns... let's just say you were starting to get wet, and not from the sweat.
‱ you weren't quite sure what it was. why you were so horny all of a sudden. you'd usually never be this side tracked about him. BUT with bin having shows every night recently, he didn't always have the time, energy, or opportunity to be intimate with you... and this was the result. too much pent up desire.
‱ after clearing your weights and getting a drink of water, you watched changbin as he laid down to start his bench press. the way his arms bulged just by angling them up to grab the bar was so yummy that you couldn't stand it.
‱ "want me to spot, babe?" you asked, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible.
‱ "i don't know how much you'll be able to help if i get crushed, but sure why not," he said, chuckling to himself.
‱ you bit your lip as you walked over, about to situate yourself over top of him.
‱ swinging your leg over his hips, it took everything in you not to sit down and straddle him.
‱ "good?" he asked.
‱ "you're good. you got this!" he'd already done his warming up, so he was moving onto something a bit more challenging.
‱ as he removed the bar and began to pump his arms up, you helped him count. "1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10."
‱ "aghh," he let out a deep breath, moving the bar back onto the rack.
‱ "well, this is a pretty sight," he said, moving his head down to look at you over top of him.
‱ 'this i can work with,' you thought.
‱ you smirked at him before lowering your pelvis, letting yourself rest right on top of his hips. you were hoping the contact would work in your favor.
‱ "babyyy, come on now," he said, throwing his head back in a tiny giggle. he definitely thought you were joking.
‱ "what's the matter?" you asked, big eyed, moving your hands down to rest on the sides of his torso, tight from the extra core exercises he'd been doing lately.
‱ "you know you can't be doing this. come on, you've gotta stand back up," he said smiling up at you. he was about to shake his head laughing in disbelief.
‱ "but why?" you teased, letting your hands trail further inwards and run gently up and down his abdomen.
‱ "why?!" he moved his head to look left and right. "because we are literally in the gym right now! in public!"
‱ you smiled playfully as you ever so slightly began to move your hips up and down on him. just the tiniest bit to gage his reaction.
‱ "technically," you started, "this is a *private gym... and who else is gonna be here at 3 in the morning?"
‱ when you sensed no hesitancy on his side, you let yourself grind a little harder, making full contact with what you could now feel as his bulge. you wanted to go slowly. to make sure that every last centimeter of him felt you.
‱ "ah fuck," he smiled while exhaling loudly. "you're not gonna make this easy, are you?"
‱ "if you realllly don't want it," you let your hands wander to his chest, massaging into him, "then say it and i'll stop."
‱ you couldn't help the smile on your face. knowing that he was putty underneath you. hoping he'd just give in already. hoping you could give each other what you knew you both desperately needed.
‱ bin didn't say anything. he just shut his eyes, looking like he was concentrating on some imaginary thing in his head.
‱ when he held that position and didn't go on to say anything, you took it as your cue to stop. you slowly brought your hands back to yourself and halted your hips from rocking on him.
‱ "i'm sorry binnie, i don't know what got into me," you mumbled, now feeling embarrassed at the ordeal, your own boyfriend not able to look at you. you slowly began to stand back up just over top of him.
‱ before you could think another thought, changbin's hands gripped hard on your hips, pushing you back down on him.
‱ "i didn't say to stop," he mumbled lowly, as if the words were coming from deep within his chest. it wasn't anger in his voice. it was more of a... whine? a plea? ... something that made you horny.
‱ with a victorious smile on your face, you reveled in his actions, taking this opportunity to get what you desperately needed.
‱ "feels that good, huh?" you toyed with him a bit before starting to pick up speed again, grinding back and forth over his clothed cock.
‱ "hush," he said, covering his smile with his hands. he felt like there was no way this was really happening to him right now. no way that this was his reality.
‱ you took your time, slowly and sweetly grinding on him until you felt your clit begin to throb. all of the sensation had built up, leaving it swollen and exposed to your underwear, steadily and deliciously.
‱ "oh fuck," you moaned, throwing your head back and savoring the way that changbin's hard shaft fit so perfectly between your lips, massaging you without even trying.
‱ as you heard light moans escaping changbin's mouth, you quickly slid down him slightly so you could palm him through his shorts. his cock was rock solid, and as you stroked up and down, he began to wince. as bad as he wanted to cover it up, you knew he was getting overly worked up.
‱ "i wanna take these off," you pleaded, pulling on the waistband of his shorts and boxers.
‱ toying around with them for a bit, you slowly pulled up and shimmied them down until they were around changbin's ankle, leaving him exposed.
‱ as you stood, you took the opportunity to slide your pants down, taking one leg out and then the other so you could throw the clothing on the floor beside you.
‱ changbin propped himself up by leaning his elbows on the bench. his eyes now full of light and wonder, he took in the sight of your lower body now unclothed for him in the middle of the gym. his safe haven and safe space... now absolutely stained with lustful thoughts.
‱ throwing yourself back onto him, you straddled his lap for a bit, letting his tip get covered in your juices. you felt your breath hitch just a bit as you rubbed up and down just the right spot.
‱ when you were satisfied with your plan, you quickly lifted your hips up and guided him to your entrance. in one swift motion, you removed your hand from his cock and instead left it to rest on his stomach.
‱ you felt yourself relax around him as you sank down, devouring every last centimeter.
‱ changbin sucked his teeth in slightly at the feeling of his dick pushing inside you, relaxing once he was fully in and you were finally stretched around him.
‱ you knew you had plenty of time, and you wanted to enjoy every last, tiny inch of movement between you two.
‱ as you angled your body forward, you moved both hands up until they were pressing into changbin's chest.
‱ you let yourself lean into the luscious rhythm you had before, slowly grinding forward and backward around him.
‱ as you went, you slowly built up your pace. you didn't mean for it to happen already, but with each movement of your hips, your clit began to pulse, begging for more.
‱ as you rocked back and forth, back and forth, you heard a few disgruntled moans from changbin, encouraging you to keep going.
‱ you threw your head back in pleasure as you started violently thrusting yourself up on him, the sensation becoming too great for you to bear.
‱ faster, faster, faster, chasing that sweet realesse until "fuckkkkkkkk" was all you could say.
‱ you immediately started twitching around changbin as you rode out your high, his hands coming around to stabilize your ass and hold you down on him until you were completely finished.
‱ trying to catch your breath, you leaned down onto your arms, closer to changbin's chest. your body was so exhausted, you weren't sure what to do next.
‱ but changbin had his own plans. before you knew what was happening, his arms had wrapped around you completely, pulling your face and stomach flat onto him as he began to violently buck his hips up and thrust inside of you.
‱ and jesus christ did it feel good.
‱ deep, guttural moans flew out of his mouth with each sharp thrust, with the sound of skin slapping following right after. the pace was quickly becoming too much to handle.
‱ cursing under his breath, changbin easily wrapped his hands into your hair and pulled, arching your back for him and letting him get a good look at your face.
‱ you moaned out as you focused on all of him. the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix repeatedly. the aggression on his face while looking at you. the one hand that was now urgently squeezing your ass, definitely leaving bruises behind.
‱ he was just too fucking good.
‱ "this what you wanted baby?!" changbin spat as you quivered over top of him.
‱ "ahh fuck," he bit down, focusing his eyes on your face and the way your tits bounced every time he pounded into you.
‱ as his thrusts got harder and sloppier, you knew he was close. with one final yank of your hair, he pulled you all the way back to arch your ass just perfectly for him. he loved the sight of you losing your breath over it.
‱ one, two, three more thrusts, and "oh fuck. oh fuck. aghhhhh fuckkkkk," he moaned out as he came, letting go of your hair and letting your body fall lifeless on top of him as he continued to fuck into you and ride out his high.
‱ like his own little rag doll, he used you until he absolutely couldn't stand it anymore. he was completely drained and overstimulated.
‱ you both laid there for a few seconds, panting heavily to catch your breath. laying on top of him, you heard his heart beat continuing to slow in his chest as he rested and regained his conscience.
‱ once you'd both calmed down, you finally got the chance to get words out.
‱ "that was too fucking good, binnie," you smiled, going up to peck him on the lips.
‱ "that was one hell of a workout," he laughed, beginning to sit up now. you, still seated in his lap, got a perfect view of his face and sweaty curls as he rested now on his tailbone.
‱ "seeeee," you teased, "we should do it again sometime." you coyly smiled.
‱ "you might just talk me into it," changbin said, leaning his forehead on yours.
‱ you both sat in solidarity for a moment, just admiring one another before changbin broke the peace. "i love you and all, but we've gotta put our pants back on." he looked down at the haphazardly strewn clothes around him.
‱ "and we should probably wipe this thing down about 5 times before we leave," you giggled before standing up.
---------------------------
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aayakashii · 2 months ago
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Helloo Aya love your content as always and I have a request if you want to do it😊
Could you write "how would the Vagastrom and Jabberwock ghouls(+jin cause he's the only one I care about from frostheim lmao😭) propose to you/mc"đŸ˜©
Anyways either way I love your fics and headcanons pls never die❀
I love when ppl say "pls never die" to someone and now I feel elated that I'm on the receiving end of that too LMAO thank you for enjoying what I write <3 and thank you for helping me get out of my writing slump holy crap 😭
Warnings: none. Just tooth-rotting fluff, I might need a shot of insulin after writing this.
proposal headcanons
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Jin
It depends on you, first and foremost.
If you're introverted, he'll make sure it'll be just the two of you, in the dim light of candles, with a dinner catered entirely to you.
Gentle music will be playing in the background as you two talk, and he tries to calm down his nerves by holding your hand tightly throughout the night.
You barely feel when he slips the ring into your finger, only noticing it when a precious gemstone glints brightly as he kisses your ring finger and murmurs the question into your trembling hand.
If you're extroverted, he'll throw a party just for the occasion. Whatever theme you like, you can consider it done.
You'll have the prettiest dress, the tastiest foods, the most delicious drinks with all the people you love surrounding you, despite you not knowing what warranted such a grand celebration.
Laughter and happy conversation suddenly quiet down as Jin brings you to the center of the room and gets down on one knee and the guests swoon over your fairytale romance.
Either way you prefer will be more than perfect for him, as long as your answer to his question is "yes".
Alan
Oh, he's so nervous. Almost can't look at you in the eye for an entire week before he gets the ring ready.
However, Alan isn't the type of guy who would prepare a special event for the proposal (but if you love him, you know this would never be his type of thing).
He does, however, want privacy to say whatever he needs to, if his heart finally decides to pour out of his mouth.
So, he takes you to a small hike.
Once you two can't hear anything besides the sound of leaves crunching under your feet and birds singing, he holds your hand tightly and turns towards you.
It's quick but soft and brimming with emotion: Alan only needs to tell you, through stutters and endearing mumbles, that you mean everything to him and that he wants to spend a lifetime with you.
He doesn't even need to ask whether or not you'd marry him. You're already hugging him so tight that you vanquish all of his anxieties in a fell swoop.
His heart thumps loudly in his chest, right under your ear, and he buries his face in your hair. You stay like this for a while, grounded and almost merged into each other.
You two only let go only when he finally remembers to slip the ring in your finger.
Leo
It's a show for the ages. It's not surprising at all that Leo would plan the fanciest, flashiest, trendiest proposal.
It will all be going straight to his TikTok right away.
But you already knew that. You know all the things that come with dating Leo. You know that his online career is way too important for him. You're fine with letting millions of fans ogle at him as he winks and vlogs and dances for them.
Because they will never see what you see.
They'll never really see how Leo's eyes look brimming with tears, nor how his hands tremble a little bit as he puts a ring on your finger.
They can't hear the little crack on his voice as he rests his forehead on yours and quietly asks you to marry him.
And when he turns to the camera, internet persona covering the tender little parts of him that he only lets you see, a smug smile on his face after you said yes, you know that you're the only one who truly knows him.
You're the only one who will marry him.
Sho
You're in for a ride, quite literally.
You don't suspect anything when he invites you to ride his motorcycle with him – Bonnie is his baby and you're his favorite person, it's more than common for him to get the two of you together.
Sho, however, can barely hide his anxiety. The dark blue band in the ring box feels like it weighs a ton, tucked deep in his pockets.
You notice his uneasiness. Of course you do. Your mind races with awful thoughts, and, as you two get off Bonnie, you immediately hold his hands, begging him to please let you know if you did anything to make him upset.
Sho feels like a dumbass. He thought he was hiding his emotions well, but it was silly of him to expect that you, of all people, wouldn't see straight into him.
But it's such a pretty day, and the air feels crisp, and the sunset paints you with orange rays of sunlight, and you look prettier than ever in his eyes.
He sighs and pulls the ring box out his pocket, putting it on your hand. His face burns with embarrassment as he says the words out loud, squashing any doubt you could ever have about the strength of your relationship with him.
You say yes as tears of relief escape your eyes, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, a small laugh bubbling out of your mouth as you feel how warm his skin is.
Haru
From the moment he saw you holding Peekaboo in your arms, Haru knew what he wanted.
He waited and waited, wondering when it could be considered socially acceptable to ask you to marry him.
Oh, if only Bahnti could make him run fast through time as well.
He tells you so once he finally decides to propose, holding the ring box he had bought right after meeting you. It was now old and muddied after all those long, agonizing months in which he kept it hidden inside his pockets.
He tells you of all the times he thought of buying other rings, one exponentially different than the other, because it was so hard not to think of you whenever he saw anything bright and pretty.
It's easy for him to see his future with you, and he promises to also make it easy for you to live with him.
He doesn't expect you to tend to his wounds nor work like he does. No, he would never even think of having you break a sweat for him.
Haru only wishes to be on the receiving end of your caring hands as well.
When you accept his proposal, you pull him onto your lap, fingers threading into his hair, and he sleeps, knowing he would wait it out all over again if it always meant you'd be his.
Towa
It doesn't take long for Towa to propose. In fact, he probably proposes every single day ever since you two got together.
But it's always light-hearted, like another way for him to say "I love you" without actually saying it.
He's given you countless rings made of flower stems, which you keep tucked safely inside a box, despite all of them withering way too soon.
When he's serious about it, however, you know.
There's not playfulness nor mirth in his eyes – just deep, infinite adoration. A seriousness on his face that shakes you to your core.
When he slips yet another ring in your finger, you notice: this one was made to look like a flower stem, but it was made of a silvery, hard band.
"This one will never wither," he says under the night sky you two had been watching. "It's a proof that I want to be with you forever".
His proposal is more of a statement than a question. You will marry him, he knows and you know as well.
And you couldn't be happier.
Ren
He hates the idea of proposals. Hates how much attention is drawn to a couple during marriage, hates the huge parties, the self-importance of couples who think the world should clap for them for just being together.
Therefore, he really doesn't expect to have marriage popping up in his mind every time he looks at you, a little into your relationship with him.
It's more of a reassurance than a romantic gesture to him.
Whenever you laugh at his jokes, spend time watching his awful horror movies, listen to his ramblings about games–
Whenever you look at him, kiss him and say his name–
Whenever you exist next to him, he wants, needs the reassurance that you won't simply go away in the blink of an eye. You won't leave him behind, back into a solitude he doesn't think he can handle anymore. Not after you.
So when he asks you after a binge of awful movies, if you'd like to spend the rest of your life with him, he does it out of desperation.
If he likes it, he needs to put a ring on it, right? Or whatever it is that someone said some time ago.
Your smile when you say you do is almost blinding. He nods and looks away, noticing his reflection on his notebook's screen seems awfully flustered.
"We'll go out to buy rings tomorrow, then." He murmurs. You lean onto his shoulder, agreeing and he sighs.
It will definitely feel good to see the proof that you're his right there, glinting on your finger.
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ceruleanchillin · 1 year ago
Text
141 x American Reader
141 x American Fem!Reader
Note -
I was trying to do some quick scenarios and got caught up. I still have yet to figure out how to get in and get out with my writing.
I had to do some research to see if they had a PX (The Exchange) in the UK, and they do! They even have a Charley’s.
I need so much more practice until I'm more confident in these characters (and their accents...)đŸ˜©
Simon:
Boston wasn’t terrible in Simon’s eyes, but he would still rather be home. He wasn’t really on leave, he had business on behalf of the task force with some American contacts. However, it was a lot of downtime and waiting, and it was twisting his head around to be working and resting so frequently together. He liked most things separate, easier that way.
He’d certainly been in worse places to wait in. Worse safe houses, more unfamiliar environments where his anti-social quirks made trouble, no chance at a decent pub like the one he’d taken to frequenting a few blocks from the safe house.
He was approaching the very same pub at the moment. Mind racing to mentally prepare for his next briefing with Price and Laswell. He didn’t have much, the contacts seemed to be dragging their feet, and Simon was in a daily battle not to just go gather the intel himself and be done with it.
He went to pull the door, but through the glass, saw you behind the counter. That was strange, you worked on weekends. He knew, because once he connected his increased heartbeat and uncomfortably hot cheeks to you, he started avoiding the place. 
It may have been the most authentic pub he’d encountered in America so far, but you were the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, and only one of these things made him sweat like he was back in basic.
He started to back away, but you’d seen him through the age-warped glass and were waving him in.
“You stupid pint-addict bastard.” he muttered, unnecessarily triple checking to make sure his mask was in place. 
He’d honored his promise to Price, and kept to a half mask instead of his usual balaclava. At first he was tense, short when spoken to, and constantly running a hand through his hair to momentarily shield his face. The half mask helped, but not much. It just reminded him he wasn’t where he felt he should be. He wasn’t the one to play the diplomat
However, on your first meeting, you’d complimented the contrast between his eyelashes and his dark eyes. Between that, and you pouring his Guinness at an angle, the right way, he’d had to clear his throat twice before he felt it was safe to respond. He couldn’t remember what he said, his ears had rung like a flashbang went off too close.
It must have been smooth, because you ducked your head and quickly turned so he couldn’t see you grin. Too slow, for all the vistas and colorful fabrics he’d seen in his travels, your smile had taken the prize.
“Hey! Saved your seat!” you called out over the din, pointing to the rounded corner of the bar where there was only stool and a column to block him from most patrons. “Even though I shouldn’t have. You’ve been avoiding me, and don’t deny it. My co-workers have no filter.”
He winced, you’d caught him red handed. “Not avoiding you. Just working.”
“At avoiding me.” you stuck your tongue out at him.
It was surprisingly packed for a weekday, and as he got closer to the bar, he noticed there was some sort of event going on. Drink specials, a pool tournament, and calls to tourists. He cursed, and considered how fast he could down his drink and fake a work call.
“Sit.” you pinned him with a look. “I need another sane adult around me, now.”
“Sane?” he snorted. “You’ve got the wrong bloke in mind.”
“Yeah? You wanna go up against the kid who’s pledging and has been wearing that chicken suit for two weeks, or the “actress” who keeps switching characters with every drink?” You raised an eyebrow, pointing out your subjects without a care about looking rude.
“I wanna get on the first thing flying or floating out of here.” 
“Take me with you, or I’ll steal your passport.” you slid the Guinness towards him, before leaning on your elbows, and closing some of the distance between you.
Simon had been tortured, beaten, and had given his fair share of the same back. He’d stared hardened terrorists in the eyes and made them back down every time. It was pretty silly of him, and he certainly felt it, to falter under your gaze, and yet he did. 
His fingers danced around the bottom of the glass, letting the drink settle, before he lowered his mask and took a big sip. “You don’t have to bribe me love, just say the word and we’re gone.”
He wasn’t often embarrassed. Sometimes, Johnny made him cringe, but he was usually too removed from a situation, and the people in it, to allow for such an emotion. He’d long stopped caring about the looks he, as a masked behemoth, received and whatever thoughts were behind the eyes on him.
Of course, he couldn’t do that with you. He didn’t want to, but he literally couldn’t anyways. So he had to sit there, heat rising to his cheeks, and a mental mantra of ‘shoot me’ ringing through his head on a loop.
To his barely noticeable relief, your gaze somehow grew warmer, a smile spreading across your pretty face. “I’m holding you to that Si. You don’t get to blame the alcohol either, you’ve barely touched your drink.”
It was comfortably quiet between the two of you after that. You returned to work as your co-workers got less and less professional. Things got crazier, but it did allow for him to be mostly ignored in his corner, which he was thankful for. He felt for you though.
He had to play bouncer once when a guy got behind the bar, thinking you denied his number because you couldn’t hear him.
The look in your eyes as you sought distance made Simon act purely on instinct. His speed, size, and training ended the situation quickly. You’d given a relieved exhale of air, and ran a hand down his arm before you ran off to respond to a glass crisis. It occurred to him right then how far he’d go for you. As far as he would for his team, whom he considered something around the range of family.
It frightened him that he’d only known you a few weeks, yet your connection had gotten him this far, but there was nowhere to run from the truth internally. If there was, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.
By closing, he was the last customer, and he’d offered to stay while you close up. It wasn’t the first time.
“You better.” you grinned, wiping down the bar.
He started to help you by turning the chairs up on to the tables, and junking miscellaneous trash. He laughed when he heard you shouting about how someone got vomit on the ceiling in the bathroom.
“Fuck it lovie, make the layabouts earn their keep tomorrow.” he called out in response.
He was deep in thought about where he was and what he was doing when he turned and saw you standing by him. You got the rare jump on him.
“Don’t think I’m crazy, or do, because maybe I am. I know you were joking earlier, but I really wish you weren’t.” you threw the formerly white rag in your hand in the trash, smiling, but your eyes held the same vulnerability he always felt around you.
He blinked owlishly, processing your words before standing up to his full height. “I wasn’t joking.”
—
Kyle:
You’re a party girl to your core, but you can’t help it. You run your own bath products company, and it’s hard work. No one should blame you for playing hard to match.
Gaz certainly didn’t blame you, in fact, your vibrant social media is what drew him in. He’d been constantly checking his phone on base, to the annoyance of his partner-in-crime Soap when their pranks and game time started to lack, because Gaz had to check what your new post alert was about. 
It took him a minute, but he figured out your page was what Gaz was looking at (and so secretive about). He figured it out when Gaz started watching your live streams, and became so engrossed, Price would have to literally clap him on the back to get him on task. 
Soap knew he could forget any plans made if you started a live.
Damnit, he wanted to know who was stealing one of his best mates.
Once he saw you in full, and not glancing around Gaz’s big head, he got it. You were beautiful, vibrant, obviously in the city’s in-crowd. You would’ve fit in perfectly with him and his mates as far as your ability to sniff out a good time went. He couldn’t be mad at you anymore, and it wasn’t just because he had a minor crush on you himself, he knew his friend was gone, and decided to help him out.
He swiped Gaz’s phone and sent him on a wild goose chase so he’d have time to act. Soap put everything he had into that first message, though it wasn’t until after he sent it, he realized it was full of Scots lingo, and he cringed trying to clean it up in the following message. He realized he’d made it worse, and the DM thread looked like a tweaker got hold of the phone.
“What are you doing?” Gaz sounded both panicked and furious, causing Soap to freeze in real time.
“Uh.., I needed
to order food?”
“Bruv, with my phone?!”
“I
also..wanted to find out where you got..that hat.”
Gaz blinked at him, with an expression that clearly asked if Soap’s last brain cell had finally found a better job.
“You were there with me, it was at The Exchange. Give me my phone.”
Soap instinctively yanked the phone out of reach. “Uh, well..wait.”
Gaz’s eyes widened, voice rising. “Mate, hand the phone over or-“
The DM message notification rang out loud enough to silence Gaz immediately. His eyes somehow got wider, his lips forming a tight line.
Soap’s eyes mirrored his own, and his fight or flight instinct was triggered. “I swear
I did this for ye, not to ye this time. Ye cannae be mad about it.”
A beat passed, and Soap tried to ease the incoming meltdown a little more.
“I may have messed the introduction up a little, but I bet she went for the follow up.”
Gaz said nothing, opting instead to lunge for the device. Soap, confused and thinking Gaz was going to strike him, wasn’t fast enough, and though he outmatched Gaz in muscle, said man still took him down.
“Who are you messaging?!”
They rolled, and Soap tried to simultaneously keep Gaz from punching him, while he kept the phone stretched away from them. Another *ding* rang out, and Gaz glanced up to see a notification that contained your user name, and that you had responded. He assumed twice.
He felt his heart drop out of his ass, his eyes locking with Soap’s.
His next punch struck like a snake, fast and quick to Soap’s throat. Said man’s eyes crossed up, and Gaz took the time to try and grab the phone. He was surprised to find Soap’s grip as tight as ever.
“I’ll hand it over when ye promise not to blow up!”
“I promise to crack your chest!”
They continued to roll on the floor, Soap getting his second-wind after Gaz’s threat. Gaz, driven by what he knew had to be the biggest embarrassment of his life coming his way, and Soap by the need to explain his attempt at a good deed.
Two polished boots came into view and a sharp bark of “Knock it the fuck off!” ended the tussle immediately. 
Both men sat up, hair and clothing askew, chests heaving with adrenaline.
“What the hell is going on here?” John Price’s infamous gravel inflection hit the both of them, stiffening their spines pole straight.
Nothing came out though. It wasn’t exactly a thing you wanted to tell your captain. Both assumed he thought social media was the Yahoo homepage anyways.
He looked between them, neither meeting his gaze. “Right. Hand it over then.”
Gaz choked. On what, he couldn’t say, probably his dwindling pride. “Just uh
a little sport Captain.”
Soap glanced between them before his blue eyes settled on Price. “Yeah. What’s it gonna be Cap? Run laps, scrub latrines, we’ll take the worst.”
“Don’t worry about that, that’s a given and then some. The phone MacTavish.”
John Price rarely had to demand anything a second time, and neither Soap nor Gaz wanted to be responsible for making him do it a third. Soap gave him an apologetic side glance as he handed over the phone. Gaz cringed, feeling like a kid in class again, getting busted for swapping gross drawings of teachers.
“One of you, open it.” Price held the phone out between the two of them. Gaz sighed and input the code locking down the device.
Price pulled the phone back, and, much too efficiently for Gaz’s taste, began swiping. 
Price’s eyes scanned back and forth, and Gaz had to assume he was reading what he still hadn’t had a chance to.
After a beat, Price looked up in disbelief. “All this over a posh little beauty queen? Do you two want the one-four-one to be synonymous with a joke?”
Gaz would serve the mole-people through infinity if it meant they’d make the ground swallow him up right there. How his day had advanced to this was beyond him.
“Captain-“
Price turned to him, brows raised. “You better be glad she likes you and it wasn’t a total waste, or I’d rent you out to the circus like the clowns you two are.”
Gaz stepped back on one foot, his head snapping in disbelief. “Wait..she wha-“
“So it worked then yeah?!” Soap grinned, a breathy laugh supporting his exclamation before quickly straightening up. “I mean, I knew that it would. That’s why I did it.”
“It worked in spite of you spike strip.” Price tossed the phone to Gaz as Soap ran a hand over his treasured mohawk, pouting at the dig. “For whatever reason, that pretty little thing is interested in him.”
Hearing Price confirm your response was positive didn’t make it any easier to believe than the first time he heard it. He had yet to read whatever his dumbass friend sent your way, but
you liked it?
Gaz brought the phone to his face, and started to open the app so he could finally see for himself.
“I don’t think so.” Price warned with a sharp shake of his head. “That goes in your locker, now, and the two of you meet me out on the track.”
Gaz and Soap both hung their heads.
“Hopefully she comes to her senses by the time you’re able to even hold that thing again, let alone use it.”
“Yes sir.” Gaz locked the phone again, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.
You must’ve looked at his page, and no matter what crazy thing Soap had sent you, you liked him. 
That knowledge carried him through so many laps on the track he vomited up things he swore he hadn’t eaten since he was 5, scrubbing bunks and latrines on his hands and knees until a hole opened in his pants over one knee, and endless up-downs until he and Soap had to literally pull each other up and help each other down.
When he finally collapsed in the locker room later, swearing he’d make it to the shower before he even thought of climbing in bed, he managed to dig his phone out of his locker first.
He was suddenly nervous, you were so gorgeous to him, and if your response was some pitying virtual head pat, he’d jump in front of the next Humvee he saw.
Then again, it was Price who said you liked him, and the man had no reason to or interest in making him feel better about the matter.
He unlocked the phone and quickly opened the app before he lost his nerve. 
You: ‘Um excuse me???’
He winced.
You: ‘Oh wait, I checked out your page. You’re from the UK? I didn’t know what you were saying😅. I still kinda don’t, but now I don’t think you’re creepy
you’re actually pretty cute. Thanks for your service.đŸ˜˜đŸ«Ąâ€™
His heartbeat sped up, and all his aches and bodily gripes were forgotten as he leaned forward on the bench. You had all his attention, and you quite possibly didn’t mind that.
He smirked, proud of his carefully curated page and the body his job helped him maintain. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how silly he was for worrying. Of course you had some interest in him, he could match your energy with ease.
He opened the keyboard ready to respond when all his short-lived bravado fell down around him. What the fuck was he supposed to say back?
—————
Johnny:
It made the two of you somewhat uncomfortable when you thought about how much chance it took for you guys to meet. The thought of not being together felt more foreign than you two ever had to each other. Johnny chose not to dwell on it, accepting how lucky he was often overshadowed the thought.
Your best friend since college was getting married, and you were not only maid of honor, but the wedding planner. Scotland was the homeland of your friend, and you knew on a good day she missed it with her whole heart. 
You did your best to incorporate her culture and her friends and family abroad into the ceremony.
This, it turned out, included her brother’s best friend John “Soap” MacTavish, who was also a family friend.
“Is Soap a um
traditional Scottish name?” you’d asked, holding up the name list she’d given you, and thinking your friend was setting you up for a joke.
“He was Johnny for years, but he came back from his dream job, built like a house, and was like ‘They call me Soap now.’.” she deepened her accent and voice to mock what you assumed he sounded like. “Don’t pay it any mind, he’s still our Johnny.”
So John “They call me Soap now” MacTavish was sent an invitation too. What you did not expect was her family to come into the country as quickly as they did. You still had a few weeks of planning, and from the moment they flooded her townhome, you were swept into their familial hurricane.
They couldn’t have been sweeter to you, but they all had input. You were overwhelmed within 30 minutes of being with them, despite your friend reeling them in repeatedly.
Johnny became your touchstone when, based on his energetic introduction, you expected him to be part of the chaos.
As you took notes and suggestions, he was the one who translated when the accents got too thick, or they slipped into Scots.
Someone got a little too aggressive with their suggestion, or talked over you? Johnny was calling out over the din and restoring the closest thing to order that he could.
His helpfulness didn’t end that evening. He became your living official Scotland handbook. 
The work you’d dreaded being added on top of what you already had to do found a partial home on his shoulders. Every choice you brought before your friend and her family received loud approval, and Johnny refused your credit every time. Claiming it was your beautiful, quick, and organized mind making the magic happen.
He was at your place bright and early every morning, the two of you forgetting you were virtually strangers who’d been thousands of miles apart the majority of your lives.
In the process of planning and arranging, you showed Johnny your neck of the woods, and the culture in Atlanta. He was fascinated by everything and you’d never been happier, having his complete and utter interest.
He loved your accent, he loved how friendly the people in the mom and pop places you took him to were, he loved how proud you were to be a Georgia girl.
He would always be a proud son of Scotland, so he got it.
“You’re really eatin’ the third one now?!” you laughed watching Johnny go through his third hot chicken sandwich. “Boy, you’re crazy!”
“And well fed too yeah.” he grinned around the huge bite he’d taken. “I’d punch Ghost square in the back of his head if they’d bring a Hattie B’s to Scotland. Of course, I’d have to stand on a stool.”
“Ghost?” you raised an eyebrow, swallowing the fry you’d been chewing.
“Oh yeah, my best mate in the service. He’s like a fuckin’ tree
.if trees hit really hard and were just generally terrifying.”
Your eyes widened. “You’re in the service, that’s so cool. Is that the dream job?”
His eyes widened, his chest puffing out in pride at your words. “I am, youngest member to make it into my unit too. Got lucky with a pretty good team.”
“That where you get the name Soap? What is that about by the way?” 
He stopped chewing, swallowing hard. Visions of what his nickname referred to came to mind, and he felt like a wall was coming between the two of you. He wasn’t ashamed of his career, or most of the things he’d done to maintain it, but it’d been nice to almost be a civilian again. He hadn’t been just John or Johnny in a long time.
The distance from home, and the crush he wasn’t even going to pretend he didn’t have, helping the fantasy.
 “Yeah.” 
You senses the tone change, and started to withdraw your curiosity. “We can drop it.”
“Nah, it’s not a bad thing Bonnie, it’s just
” he furrowed his brow in thought, and you resisted the hard urge to touch him. “This is the first leave I’ve had in
maybe ever that I don’t feel a thin wall ‘tween me and my people. It’s just nice for a little bit.”
“Say less.” You pushed your seasoned fries towards him, snorting at his excited expression. “Let’s talk about how much I love it when you call me Bonnie instead.”
He choked, and your small hands found his back, pounding on what felt like a stone wall. “Jesus hen, you can’t just drop somethin’ like that when a man’s mid swallow.”
You brushed your hand over the back of his neck as you retracted it back to your person. Lowering your voice to a soft decibel. “I like when you call me that too.”
——
John Price:
How he’d let himself be talked into a cruise of all things, John would never know. 

.
That wasn’t true.
The pretty American office worker flagged him down when he went in for his briefing with the higher ups. She looked distressed, and John could feel that protective nature of his rear up in his chest and stiffen his spine. Before he could even register that he’d spoken, he’d told her whatever his help could provide, it was hers.
She’d flustered at that, tucking some hair behind her ear, and gave a sheepish smile. Her reaction sent a shock of pride from his brain to his cock.
She explained how she and a friend group back home had made plans for a week-long cruise out of Florida. She’d been looking forward to it, missing her home country, and having planned it out very carefully in the group chat. Then, earlier that week, it was brought to the light that one of the girls slept with the husband of another one. 
Sides were taken, she was attacked for being out of the country and unaware of the nuanced changes in the group, and then all the girls pulled out, essentially leaving her holding four tickets and the shreds of a perfect vacation.
That was you. A mess who’d been arguing with the travel agency, trying to wrangle all of your friends, and figure out how you wound up wasting several thousand dollars at that point.
John just stood there, like a coat rack with a bucket hat on top. Stiff, and unsure of what to do, say, or even what expression he should school his shocked features into. 
He stood there long enough for you to become embarrassed and wave him off and return to your desk.
“I’m so sorry I bothered you. God, you’re a Captain! It’s just, my momma and daddy have been on me from the beginning about how much of waste a trip like this is
‘girl why would you spend that much to float in the ocean with a bunch of strangers, you can borrow our boat and fish in the lake for free’.” you trailed off, realizing you were rambling and shoved your face in your hands.
He thought you were adorable. Most days, he wanted to find the nearest surface and have you on it, only to be embarrassed that at his age, he was thinking like a teenager. 
However, right then you were just plain adorable, accent in full swing because you were upset. John knew you were from somewhere in the southern US. Louisiana? Texas?
He approached your desk, hands splayed as he leaned his weight forward. “Love, it’s not a problem. I’m just not sure what I can do about it
aside from hunting down the husband and siccing Laswell on the other girl.”
You gave a full belly laugh. “That could work.”
He grinned, sitting on the edge of the desk, deciding he wanted more of the laugh and soon.
You quieted and started fiddling with a pen that’d been nearby. “But seriously
I would never ask you this if I thought I had other options. It’s just
you’re the person I’ve gotten closest to so far here, and um..I spent so much on those tickets. I even saved from my first paycheck into this last one..”
Your words were coming out fast and close, but John could pick them out. Admitting he was closer to you than anyone in the country warmed him so much, he didn’t care if the next words out of your mouth were asking him to reimburse you. He couldn’t imagine what else you could ask for, but at that point he’d do it.
“Do you mind filling in those spots for me with your team? It’s a perfect amount of tickets, and then I won’t be all alone, and it won’t be a waste, and just ugh! I need you to save my ass Captain Price.” you looked up at him with wide pleading eyes.
For a fraction of  second, Price wondered if you knew what you did to him, and that you could use that look to take over the mind of a weapon western governments spent a small fortune to train.
Then your request hit him like a train. You wanted him, and the adult nursery school he’d wrangled into the formation of the 141 to crash your vacation? Your sanity was up for debate.
“At any given time I’m working with half a shared brain cell between two muppets, and their long-suffering murder pet. I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”
“Oh.”
“In fact, their jackets read like the instructions for taking care of a Gremlin. No cruises is pretty high up there.” John tried to humor his way out of the suggestion until he caught sight of your face. 
You looked so disappointed, but then your expression shifted to one he couldn’t quite read.
“But you’d be there wouldn’t you?” wide pleading eyes just for him, trained on him.
He flushed, reluctantly stepping around what may have been the flirtatious tactic.  “Spending my leave pulling duty as a zoo keeper.”
“Work on your tan then Casper, I’m worried about you. You’d disappear in a snow storm.” You switched up your tactic again, hoping to amuse him into helping.
Price gave a full-belly laugh of his own, the kind he’d rarely even consider letting out at work.  “Negging me isn’t going to work love, I’d stick with begging.”
“Damn.” John watched you rise up again, slipping around your desk in heels he couldn’t stare at too long if he wanted to remain professional. “John Price, I swear if you don’t say yes after this, I don’t care where you are on this base I will find you. There, I will salt your coffee and unravel your cigars.”
You inhaled.“Johncanyouandtherestofthe141takethesdamnticketsbeforeIsnap?”
John pretended to think, enjoying watching you literally squirm from the corner of his eye. Despite the jokes, John wasn’t truly an old man, but you did make him feel much younger than he was and he liked it.
He liked the tiny carefree moments he spent with you throughout the day, and he supposed that’d be nice for one sunny week. 
“I’ll toss it to the lads, see what they say, and I’ll get back to you.”
“Meaning you’re going to make them do it.”
“Precisely.”
——-
As he stood before his men, he cursed his gentlemanly nature when faced with a woman in need. Well, if he was being entirely honest, he wasn’t being gentlemanly, and maybe this was what he deserved.  
It wasn’t chivalry alone, it was pure, unadulterated thirst. He wanted you the way a very hungry man wanted a woman, and he was thinly veiling it behind a tip of the top hat and cane.
Gaz and Soap made him feel like the 141 father the higher ups teased him about being. They reacted as though daddy came home with a promise of DisneyLand.
“The last time you told us to pack, I was picking small snakes out of my pack for over an hour. Gotta say, I want this to be a habit Captain.” Gaz was grinning, phone already in hand as he searched for vacation clothes.
“Yeah. Didn’t expect this when I woke up this mornin’. You’re not tryin’ to infringe on my prank brand right sir?”
Ghost reacted as predicted. Posture stiff, arms crossed, and his eyes doing all the talking. They said a number of ways Price should die, an even greater number of ways he could go fuck himself, and that he’d try whatever he could to get out of it.
“You’re not getting out of it.” Price dashed that dream immediately, but he’d let him fantasize about killing him all cruise long if it helped.
“Why would you want to L.T.?” Soap looked up from where he’d been trying to add items he wanted into Gaz’s cart. “Mud in yer boots, or bikinis and a pint? Pretty hard choice.”
“I don’t wanna see you in a bikini, mate.” Gaz quipped, a grunt leaving him when Soap punched his shoulder.
Price ignored that, and interrupted on the off chance that Ghost would entertain Soap with an answer. “Everyone’s going, It’s one week and you’ve all seen worse. You will be on time, you will behave and represent this unit accordingly, and by god you will all be gracious for the opportunity.”
The last line was meant specifically for Ghost. 
Said man smirked behind the mask, tiny details revealed this if you knew what to look for. “Don’t worry sir, I’ll be on my best behavior for your pretty little office bird.”
Price swallowed hard, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling as he counted to ten, and ignored Soap and Gaz’s aggressive inquiries. He was definitely being punished.
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qrrieterisunnq · 25 days ago
Note
Marino smut where he gets jealous easily please but not because she’s like smoking hot because of her personality so he tries not to let his teammates talk to herđŸ˜‚đŸ˜©đŸ„Ž
Jealousy, Form of Love - John Marino
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MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut — WARNINGS: sex scenes, fluff — SUMMARY: John is jealous because of your warming personality, which leads to him fucking you hard after he finally introduces you to his teammates, and you are friendlier than you should be. — WORD COUNT: 2,12K
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You are the definition of people saying, ‘I don’t care about looks, but personality is all that matters.’ It was not that you were ugly or something; you were gorgeous, but that was not what caught John’s eyes; it was your friendly and sunny personality.
You always need to help people even though they are mean to you and keep saying they can manage themselves.
Whenever you see a cat alone on the street, you immediately want to take her home. If it weren’t for John, you’d have an apartment full of stray cats.
That is exactly why John fell for you and doesn’t want you to get to know his teammates. They would fall in love with you the moment you'd have to speak, that’s just who you are. But when he finally gets the courage to introduce you to his teammates, he knows he’ll regret it the moment you talk to them.
“Are you babygirl!” John looks down at his watches, making sure they still have time. “The ride is about fifteen minutes, so you better move your beautiful ass over here before I come for you.”
“Just a second, J,” you yell back from the bedroom as you are finishing your outfit and some touch-ups on your makeup. And I’m done!” you say with a smile, taking your handbag from the bed and making your way into the living room, where John is leaning against the wall, his hand folded across his chest.
“Can we go now?” he asks with annoyance in his voice but the beautiful smile on his lips tells you he’s everything but annoyed.
“Yeah, baby! We can.” You giggle soothing your dress, so it looks perfect.
“You’re gorgeous, babes!” he smiles at you pulling you towards him by your waist for a quick kiss. “Now come on, or we’ll be late!”
“We won’t babe! We still have fifteen minutes. Don’t stress yourself.” You kiss his cheek on the way to the door where you put on your sneakers and open the door for him.
“Yeah, you’re right, now let's go!” he smacks your ass urging you to go first so he can lock the doors.
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“So, this is the popular y/n? Am I right, Johnny?” Sean asks with a smirk as he watches his teammate reddening from jealousy. Sean takes your hand and kisses the top with his eyes glued to yours.
“Yeah, I guess that is me,” you giggle at Sean’s questing turning your head to the side to look at John, whose cheeks are red. “It’s nice to meet you, —” you stop yourself realizing you don’t know his name.
“Oh, I’m Sean! Nice to meet you too, Y/n.” You shake his hand and step back, feeling John’s rising chest on your back. You melt into his presence and find his hand to interlock your fingers with his.
“Nice to meet you, Sean,” You smile at him, playing with John’s fingers as you smile nervously. “So, you do this Christmas party every year?”
“Yeah, for the past few years, I’ve been on the team, every year. And this year it was my turn, so I hope you like it,” he chuckles looking around his apartment. “My girlfriend helped me, actually. I can introduce you to her.”
“Oh yeah sorry. I completely forgot that Johnny is on a new team.” you giggle and rest your head on John’s shoulder, feeling his lips on your temple.
“I'm going to get you something for a drink,” John whispers in your ear before taking off to the kitchen.
“So, what do you say?” Sean asks with a grin on his lips.
“Yeah sure, let’s get meet her.” you giggle following Sean inside the living room where most people are.
“Baby!” he sighs when he sees her in a group of other wags. She smiles at him, pecking his lips and whispering something to him. After a while, Sean looks back at you with an encouraging smile. “Baby, girls, this is y/n John’s girlfriend. You haven’t met yet, because she was out of the States.” he introduces you with a smile.
“Hi?” you wave your hand with a nervous smile.
“You are so beautiful! By the way, I am Sadie!” Sean's girlfriend pulls you in a hug, making you feel welcome.
“Girl, you are gorgeous,” You yell slightly, slapping a hand over your mouth afterward. “Like drop-dead gorgeous.” You sigh, laughing with the other girls as Sadie blushes at your words.
“Oh, Can I keep her?” A girl on your left says with a grin on her face. “Please? I already like her! Johnny!” she yells, making you all giggle. “Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, Beth.” She smiles, reaching out her ebony black hand to shake yours.
As you get to know the girls, John makes his way to you just a few minutes after Beth yells his name. He looks at you with a grin, but that changes as soon as he sees Beth’s face.
“What happened?” he immediately asks, handing you the drink he made for you. He looks you up and down for some injury but finds nothing.
“Nothing, I just wanted to tell you that I—” Beth points her finger at her. “—am keeping her.” And then at you with a grin on her lips.
“Beth, you know her for what?” he looks at you with jealousy written in the wrinkle on his forehead. “Five minutes and you want her? No way girl. I saw her first.” He shakes his head, curling his hand around your waist, and brings you to his chest as you giggle at his reaction.
Beth sends you a wink and grins at Johnny, saying, “Oh, come on, Johnny-boy. You can share a little, can’t you? She’s got enough sunshine in her for all of us.”
The girls erupt into laughter, and you find yourself chuckling along, feeling an unexpected warmth from this new group of friends. John, however, wasn’t quite ready to let his guard down.
“You’re not supposed to charm everyone within seconds, you know,” he whispers in your ear, his voice a mix of exasperation and pride.
You lean into him, a playful grin on your lips. “I can’t help it, babe. It’s who I am.”
Sean approaches with another drink in hand, giving John a knowing smirk. “Looks like Y/n’s already a hit. Don’t worry, mate. We’ll try not to steal her from you... yet.”
John rolls his eyes but can’t hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew this would happen. He knew they’d adore you, just like he did. And while the jealous pangs prick at him every now and then, he can’t deny how proud he feels seeing you light up the room.
“And you never will.” You say, patting his hands that are lying on your stomach while his head is resting on top of yours.
“Eww, stop being so cheese.” Sean shakes his body in disgust earning a slap from his girlfriend. 
“Go away and take Johnny with him. We wanna have some girl-talk here with y/n.” She wiggles her brows at you, making you giggle.
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As the evening wears on, John’s patience is tested further. Sadie introduces you to the other woman in the group. And not long after, you become the center of attention. Whether it is story sharing, complimenting their outfits, or laughing at their jokes, it looks like you have wrapped them around your finger.
From across the room, John keeps a watchful eye on you. He can see how effortlessly you charm everyone, and while he adores that about you, it doesn’t stop the jealousy from shimmering beneath the surface. His jaw tightens whenever some of the guys make you laugh a little too hard or linger too close.
When Sean’s hand brushes against yours as he passes you a drink, John decides he had enough. He strides over, wrapping an arm firmly around your waist and pulling you close to his side.
“Having fun?” he asks, his tone deceptively light but his eyes sharp as they flick to Sean.
You nod your head, obvious to the tension radiating from him. “Yeah, everyone is so nice! Sean was just telling me about—”
“Yeah, Sean’s great,” John cuts in, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “But I think you promised me a dance, didn’t you?”
You blink up at him in surprise but smile, nonetheless. “Oh, did I? Well, let’s fix that then.”
He leads you to the makeshift dance floor, his hands possessively settling on your hips as he pulls you flush against him. The warmth of his body and the intensity of his gaze make your breath hitch.
“John are you okay?” you ask softly, tilting your head to look up at him.
“Just reminding everyone who you belong to,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice is low, almost a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
The rest of the night passes in a blur, with John staying glued to your side, his presence a constant reminder to anyone who might forget that you were his. By the time you both say your goodbyes and step out into the crisp night air, his jealousy reaches a boiling point.
The walk home is quiet but charged with unspoken tension. You can feel it in the way his hand grips yours a little too tightly, in the way his jaw is set, and in the way, his eyes burn with something dark and possessive every time he looks at you.
John doesn’t waste any second the moment you step inside your apartment. He kicks the door shut and spins you around, pinning you against it with a force that takes your breath away.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he growls, his hands framing your face as his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is hard, demanding, and filled with all the jealousy and desire he’s been holding back all night.
“John,” you gasp when he pulls away, his lips moving to your neck. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Watching every man in that room look at you like they wanted you,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Hearing them flirt with you, laugh with you
 Do you know how hard it was not to lose it right there?”
“But you know I’m yours,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair.
“I do,” he says, his voice rough. “But tonight, I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”
Before you can respond, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom with purpose. The air is thick with anticipation, and as he lays you down on the bed, his eyes lock onto yours, dark with intent.
“You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice low and commanding. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping them possessively as he hovers over you. “And I’m going to show you just how much.”
The room is filled with the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows across the walls. John’s touch is both fervent and tender as he begins to explore every inch of you, his lips following the path of his hands. Each kiss, each caress is deliberate, as if he is trying to etch himself into your very soul.
“Look at me,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes search yours, the raw vulnerability in them catching you off guard. “You’re everything to me. No one else gets to have this—gets to have you.”
Your heart swells at his words, and you reach up to cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that speaks of your own devotion. “I’m yours, John. Always.”
He smiles against your lips, a soft chuckle escaping as his hands roam lower, drawing a gasp from you. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go—not tonight, not ever.”
He gets rid of all your clothes laying on top of you with his cock laying directly on your pussy. He presses his lips to yours in a hungry kiss whiles his hand reaches between you, angling his cock on your entrance.
Still kissing you he pushes his cock deep inside you, drawing a long, loud moan from your lips.
He moves his hips in frequent motions, while he rolls them every now and then, getting more of the pleasure. You roll your eyes, when his cock touches the spongy spot deep inside you, bringing you quickly to your ends.
It takes you both only a few more minutes of John’s harsh thrusts and you both fall over your edges.
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