#but then the shoulder squeeze turned into A Thing... huh...
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Hideaway Heart
Daddy!Rafe x Mama!Sofia x Little!Reader

Genre: Fluff, comfort, angst/resolution, age regression
Summary: Reader throws a tantrum for Sofia and Rafe yells at her which scares her.
*not proof read*
It was one of those days.
You didn’t know why you felt cranky. Your tummy was fine, your stuffies were all accounted for, and Rafe and Sofia had even let you have extra syrup on your waffles. But your chest felt tight and your skin felt itchy from the inside out — not from clothes or anything, but from feelings. Big ones.
Sofia was trying her best. “Sweetheart, no, you can’t pour juice on your cereal,” she said softly, guiding the cup out of your tiny hands.
“Wanna do it m’self!” you snapped, tears prickling your eyes.
“I know, baby,” she said patiently. “But juice and cereal don’t go together.”
You slapped the table.
She flinched slightly. “Okay, that���s enough. Let’s calm down—”
“NO!” you shouted. “I don’t wanna calm down!”
From across the room, Rafe’s chair scraped loudly against the floor.
You froze.
“Are you serious right now?” he said, voice sharper than usual. “You do not get to scream at your mama like that. What did we say about being respectful, huh?”
You shrank back instantly. Your breathing got shallow.
“I’m talking to you!” he barked, frustrated, stepping forward. “You’ve been a brat all morning and I’m sick of it.”
And that was it.
Your little body trembled, and without another word, you turned and ran—small feet pattering quickly down the hallway, tears blurring your vision. You pushed open the hall closet door, climbed inside, and slammed it shut, squeezing yourself behind a stack of towels and hanging coats.
You cried.
You screamed.
“Daaaaddy!” you wailed, not knowing what you wanted, only that your chest hurt and your head was loud and nothing made sense and you were scared.
Sofia’s voice came not long after.
“Baby? Sweetheart, it’s Mama. Can you open the door for me?”
You didn’t answer. You sobbed harder, hiccupping, fists pressed to your eyes.
“I know Daddy scared you, little love. He shouldn’t have yelled, okay? I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
More crying. It hurt. Everything hurt.
Sofia sat outside the closet. For a long time. You lost track of how many times she whispered gentle things through the door. Her voice never rose. She never got impatient. Just stayed with you.
After what felt like forever, she tried again. “Can I come in, angel?”
You whimpered, then nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. The door creaked open a second later, and she gently squeezed into the small space with you, wrapping her arms around you like the softest, warmest blanket.
“I got you now, baby,” she murmured, stroking your hair as you cried into her shoulder. “Shhh… Mama’s here. You’re safe. You’re so safe.”
You clung to her like your life depended on it.
She rocked you until your sobs got quieter… then slower… until your breathing evened out and your tiny fingers loosened their grip on her shirt. You drifted off right there, in the safety of her arms, inside a dark closet filled with soft things and love.
—————————————————————————
You woke up in the big bed later, wrapped in warm blankets and the scent of Sofia’s shampoo. The room was quiet, dimly lit by the glow of fairy lights they’d strung up just for you.
Then, a rustle.
Rafe appeared at your side, eyes red, looking like he hadn’t moved in hours.
“Hey, bug,” he whispered, kneeling by the bed. “Can I talk to you?”
You didn’t say anything, just blinked at him.
His voice cracked. “I’m so sorry I yelled. I shouldn’t have… ever. You didn’t deserve that. I wasn’t being a good daddy, and I scared you. That breaks my heart.”
You looked at him, lip quivering.
“C’mere?” he asked softly.
You hesitated… then slowly reached your arms out.
He scooped you into a warm, tight hug instantly, rocking you gently.
“Daddy loves you so much, baby girl,” he whispered into your hair. “More than anything in the world. You’re my whole heart, okay?”
You nodded, cheeks damp but calmer now.
He kissed your forehead, cheeks, nose, and even your chin, making you let out a tiny sleepy giggle. “There’s my little lovebug.”
Sofia smiled from across the room, watching as Rafe laid back on the bed, holding you securely against his chest while you nuzzled into him.
“Can we stay like this forever?” you mumbled.
“Forever and ever,” Rafe said.
“Promise,” Sofia added, joining you both under the blanket.
And in their arms, you felt the safest you ever had.
#age regression#age regressor#agere community#little!reader#sfw agere#sfw littlespace#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe x little!reader#Cg!rafe x little!reader#rafe x sofia#sofia obx#sofia outer banks#mama!sofia#Mama sofia#mama!sofia x little!reader#Sofia x reader
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beau arlen × @pieandflannel aestethic♡

sheriff’s office was quiet that evening. files were piled high, the coffee maker hissed one last time before going still. julia sat at her desk, staring at her notes, though her mind was somewhere else entirely.
beau leaned against the doorway, badge belt slung over his arm, shirt rumpled, hair a mess — the look of a man after a long day. still… that familiar crooked smile played at the corner of his lips, the one julia was starting to know too well.
“jul,” he said, voice low and rough, somehow familiar. “that look on your face… you’re either thinking about cuffing somebody… or me. hope it’s the latter.”
julia glanced up, rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide the smile.
“i’m tired, beau. not everyone’s got your end-of-the-day wisecrack energy.”
beau walked over, placing a cold beer in front of her.
“then take a break. won’t log it in the report, sheriff’s honor,” he grinned.
julia picked up the beer, took a sip, and sighed softly.
“you know, when you came here, i thought you were just some cocky city cop. then i realized you’re just a big kid who loves good food and trouble.”
beau smirked.
“well, jul, if anyone knows trouble, it’s you. but gotta admit… you wear it well. and that red hair…” he leaned in closer, his voice dropping, “it messes me up every damn time.”
julia flushed, but held her ground.
“and you with your badge, playing the tough guy.”
“maybe,” beau shrugged. “but this town… and you… the only way to survive it is not taking yourself too seriously.”
the silence settled between them for a moment, then beau leaned down and murmured into her ear:
“when we’re done here… come with me. got a place… just you and me. no reports, no office, no past.”
julia nodded, quietly but sure.
“i’m coming.”
beau watched her for a beat longer, then smiled.
“knew it, jul.”
julia shook her head, standing up, coffee cup in hand.
“come on,” she called over her shoulder. “the porch has better air.”
the warm, soft breeze lifted julia’s red hair as she stepped outside. the sun was down, but the heat still clung to the air, crickets chirping in the distance. the porch smelled of the sweet brownies she’d baked that afternoon, more for beau than herself.
beau dropped into the rocking chair, set his beer down, and just watched her standing by the railing.
“you know,” he said quietly, “when i first came here, i thought i was the one carrying the most scars. then you showed up… and i realized it’s not about what’s behind us, it’s about still standing.”
julia looked down, a fragile, old kind of smile on her lips.
“there are things i’ve never told anyone, beau. probably never will… just… maybe you. someday.”
beau didn’t say anything. just reached out, gently squeezed her hand.
“you don’t have to say a thing, jul. i know. i see it."
the sudden burst of fireworks cracked the quiet night. colors split the dark sky, bright streaks and fading sparks. beau stood up, laughing as he grabbed julia by the waist, lifting her off the ground, spinning her around the porch. her floral dress whirled around them.
“love that laugh, jul,” beau murmured as he set her down. their foreheads touched, his voice a rough whisper. “you’re my little sunshine redhead.”
julia laughed, shaking her head.
“thought i was just jul.”
“you’ll always be jul. but sometimes i gotta remind you how damn good that red hair looks. and how good you are at messing with my head. you know this dress drives me crazy, don’t you?”
julia bit her lip but didn’t turn.
“and yet, i wear it anyway… funny, huh?”
beau smiled, feeling her breath quicken. his thumb brushed her wrist, slow, deliberate, then he turned her to face him.
“you do this on purpose,” he murmured, his hands settling on her waist, pulling her in.
“maybe,” julia answered, her gaze steady, though something fragile flickered beneath it, something beau knew too well.
he didn’t ask anything else. didn’t need to. he bent down and kissed her. not careful, not slow — the way a man does when he’s been waiting a long damn time. she tasted sweet, a little like coffee, a little like brownies, and entirely like jul. the kiss deepened, his hands sliding down her back, to her thigh.
julia sighed, her arms wrapping around his neck, melting into him. the air grew thick, the world outside the porch faded to nothing.
beau’s lips found her neck, breath hot against her skin.
“you drive me insane, jul… and i fucking love it.”
her heart hammered, but she smiled. because no matter how broken she used to be, here, in beau’s arms — she didn’t have to pretend.
she didn’t have to play a part. just… be.
the rocking chair creaked in the breeze, the candlelight flickered, but neither of them moved. because in that moment, there was no one else.
just them.
tags: @soldiersgirl @bittersweetfig @briiverse @bejeweledinterludes @littlesoulshine @soldierboysdoll @cowboysandcigarettes @soangelbaby @sugardean @angelblqde @sunsbaby @thekhloediary @hischrrypie @pieandflannel @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @velvourne @fuckedupfate @rositaslabyrinth @mahi-wayy @jollyhunter @h8aaz @daylighted @lunarvera
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What Happens in the Photo Booth...
Couldn't let Wolffe and Liri miss out on all the fun!
Not an artist but I got inspiration from this fun picrew
Thanks to @wings-and-beskargam for the idea and awesome template!
The character design for my OC Liri isn't exact here but it still turned out rather cute!
Drabble under the cut, no worries, it's SFW despite the title ;)

Grand Theft Taglist: @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @fiveminutetrash @eobe @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @foxwithadarkside @gars-weaponeer @vodika-vibes
Liri approached the photo booth with the same wary curiosity she reserved for a case file that didn’t quite add up. Her brow furrowed as she read the sign, then her face lit up.
“Oh!” she said, spinning toward Wolffe. “They print on actual flimsi.”
He raised a brow.
“Come on,” she insisted. “It’s vintage.”
“More like outdated.”
“It’s charming,” she countered, drawing the word out in that Coruscanti lilt of hers.
Wolffe smirked. “Oh, well if it’s charming…” he teased, deliberately mimicking the way she rolled the word.
She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Let me guess, you want to take photos.” Wolffe said, eyeing the booth.
“I do. I'd like one of you,” she said like it was obvious.
“You already have holos of me.”
“Yeah, but not on actual flimsi. And—”
“And what?”
She gave a shrug. “We don’t really have any together, you know?”
He saw it, the flicker of something hopeful. The fight went out of him.
“Will we both even fit in there?”
Liri grinned. “Only one way to find out.”
They squeezed into the booth finding it a bit roomier than they thought. Liri leaned in to tap the screen.
“We get three takes,” she said.
“Alright,” Wolffe replied, sounding almost resigned.
She tapped on “Start” and the screen went dark.
“Huh.” She tapped again, “Is it working?”
The flash went off, startling them both.
Liri jumped back. “Okay, it’s timed, apparently. Oh kriff—”
She reached to fluff her hair, but in the tight space ended up elbowing Wolffe squarely in the face, just as the second flash went off.
“Are you alright?” Liri asked as she turned toward him, hands already on his face as he blinked hard, his cybernetic clearly not loving the sudden burst of light.
“Think it’d give a warning,” he muttered, squinting.
“We better act fast if we want one good one.”
“What did you have in mind?” He asked.
Liri slid an arm around him and pulled him in. The third flash went off just as her lips met his.
He relaxed into it. “Think any of those turned out?” He asked against her lips.
“Let’s check.”
They emerged from the booth, and Liri plucked the strip of flimsi and held it up.
The first photo showed Liri leaning forward, focused no doubt on the screen.
“I like that one,” Wolffe said, smirking.
“Of course you do. You can see straight down my shirt.” Liri said wryly.
The second had Liri mid gesture, her elbow making impact with Wolffe’s face.
Liri winced. “I am sorry about that.”
“I’ve had worse,” He said dryly.
In the final photo, she was pulling him into a kiss. Her eyes were closed, and she was smiling. He looked more dazed than anything, the red mark on his cheek just starting to show.
“We can try again,” he offered as she stared down at it.
But Liri shook her head, giving him a soft smile. “It’s perfect,” she said.
Wolffe glanced over her shoulder again. “Yeah. Guess so. We don’t really do things the easy way anyway, do we?”
She turned, leaned in, and kissed him again, just an almost chaste brush of her lips. But the fire in her eyes lit him up from the inside out.
“Wouldn’t trade it for anything,” she said.
#gar goth night#79s clone bar#gar goth nite#79s PhotoBooth#my ocs#my writing#wolffe x oc#OC: Liri Arkay#wolffe x liri#commander wolffe
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five more minutes.
dominik mysterio x fem! reader
summary: he’s gets back from the international tour at 3 am.
A/N: okay here’s who I write for!!
jimmy uso
jey uso
roman reigns
dominik mysterio
damian priest
grayson waller
austin theory
rhea ripley
liv morgan
it was 3 a.m. when you pulled into the airport’s near-empty arrival lane, headlights casting soft light over the quiet sidewalk. the terminal doors slid open, and there he was—hood up, duffle bag slung over his shoulder.
you put the car in park. for a second, you considered getting out to meet him halfway, but the weight of the hour and the week pressed heavy on your limbs.
still, you two had talked about this in a facetime call before his flight—he’d promised to drive back. but as he walked closer, you saw it in the way his shoulders drooped, how slow his steps were. he looked just as drained as you felt, maybe more.
he tossed his bag into the back seat, then made his way to the driver’s side, opening your door without a word.
you looked up at him, catching the soft crease between his brows, the way his eyes were darker than usual with fatigue.
“i can drive,” you murmured. “i know you’re tired.”
he didn’t answer right away. just leaned down, pressed a kiss to your temple, then brushed his thumb along your cheek like he needed to feel you, to make sure you were real.
then he pulled back, nodded once, and quietly said, “no—I got it.”
you didn’t argue. you got out and walked to the other side of the car, getting into the passenger seat.
he slid into the driver’s seat beside you, shutting the door with a soft thud.
the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. it was full—of late nights missed, of long flights and even longer phone calls, of things said and unsaid.
he rested his hands on the wheel for a second, then exhaled.
you watched him from the corner of your eye as he finally pulled away from the curb. streetlights passed in streaks across the windshield, the roads empty, the city asleep.
his hand found yours on the middle console, fingers slipping between yours without looking. you turned your head toward him, but he kept his eyes on the road
“you okay?” you asked, voice soft.
he gave a slow nod, jaw flexing. “yeah, just exhausted.”
you squeezed his hand gently, letting the silence settle again. there wasn’t anything either of you needed to say—not right now. it was enough that he was here. that he came home.
the drive was slow, quiet, familiar. the city blurred past, half-lit and half-asleep. you caught glimpses of gas stations, the occasional car cutting through intersections, headlights blinking past. but mostly, it was just you and him.
when he pulled into the driveway, neither of you moved at first. his hand still held yours, thumb absently brushing across your knuckles.
you brought the back of his hand to your lips, giving it a small kiss. “come on,” you said softly. “let’s go inside.”
he nodded, letting go of your hand and getting out the car to grab his bag from the back.
you walked to the front door using your keys to unlock it. dom came up behind you as you opened the front door. just then the soft jingle of a collar was the only warning before your came barreling down the hallway.
“luna,” you said closing the door behind you both, barely getting the word out before she rounded the corner.
she skidded across the hardwood in her excitement, nails tapping, tail wagging so hard it nearly threw her off balance. her eyes lit up the second she saw him.
“hey, baby girl,” dom murmured, dropping his duffle bag just in time to crouch down and catch her as she leapt up on him.
she whined, ears back, tail thumping wildly as he wrapped his arms around her like he’d missed her just as much as you had. probably more.
“you remember me, huh?” he smiled, voice hoarse with sleep and something softer. “been guarding the house while i was gone?”
you stood a few steps behind them, watching the way she curled into him like no time had passed at all.
he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then looked up at you with a tired, crooked smile.
he stood, giving luna one last pat before grabbing his bag and following you down the hall. the house was dim, quiet, like it had been waiting too. your footsteps were slow—neither of you in any rush now that you two were finally together.
once inside the bedroom, he dropped the bag by the door. you turned to say something, but before the words could come, he pulled you into him.
his arms wrapped around your waist, your face pressing into his chest.
you exhaled against him, your fingers slipping under the hem of his hoodie, just to touch his skin.
“you smell like plane air and laundry,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against him.
“i know,” he said, voice raspy, chin resting on the top of your head. “i missed this.”
before either of you could say anything more, a soft thump hit the side of the bed. luna had jumped up, tail wagging, big eyes watching you both like she didn’t want to be left out.
he glanced over your shoulder at the bed, brow lifting slightly.
“she stole my spot,” he muttered, dry but amused.
you turned just enough to see luna nestled right into the space he always took—head on his pillow, tail giving a lazy wag like she knew exactly what she was doing.
“she’s been keeping it warm,” you offered with a small smile.
dom huffed a quiet laugh against your hair, then leaned back just enough to look at her. luna blinked at him innocently, still sprawled across his side like she owned it.
“you little traitor,” he muttered, eyes soft despite the words.
you leaned in and kissed his jaw. “you’ll win it back.”
he gave a low hum, his lips curving into a tired but content smile. “yeah, i better,” he said, giving you a quick kiss.
she gave a soft whine in response, and you both chuckled at the playful standoff.
with a deep breath, he finally pulled away from you, stepping toward the door to head to the living room. “alright, i’ll take the couch tonight.”
you turned toward him, eyes soft with affection. “no, you’re not,” you said, voice firm but with a teasing edge. “you’ve been gone for weeks. you’re not sleeping anywhere else.”
you click your tongue, a gentle sound she knows well. “come on, luna,” you say softly. “off.”
she doesn’t move at first. just stares at you with those wide, stubborn eyes, tail giving a slow, guilty wag.
she shifts her weight, like maybe if she’s cute enough, she won’t have to move at all.
“luna,” you said again, soft but firm.
at that, she lets out the tiniest huff—an actual sigh—then stands, stretches long like she’s making a point, and reluctantly pads down to the foot of the bed.
she circles once before settling there with a dramatic flop, head resting on her paws like she’s been deeply wronged.
“so much attitude for someone who doesn’t pay rent,” you mumble, crawling into bed as dom strips off his hoodie.
he took off his hoodie, leaving him in a plain black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. he tossed the hoodie over the back of the little couch in the corner without thinking, already heading toward the bed where you were waiting under the covers.
he slipped in beside you, the bed dipping with his weight. he didn’t say anything—just reached for you.
you met him halfway, arms wrapping around his middle as he pulled you in tight, like a full-body hug. your legs tangled, chests pressed close, his chin resting against your forehead. that kind of hold that says everything without needing words.
“finally,” he sighed, voice thick with sleep. “no more hotel beds.”
you smiled against him, arms squeezing gently around his waist.
then came the kisses. soft and lazy, scattered over your face. your forehead. your cheek. your nose. each one slower than the last, like he was running out of energy but couldn’t stop.
you let out a quiet laugh, your breath warm against his neck. “dom,” you whispered, “go to sleep.”
“i’m trying,” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “you’re distracting.”
you kissed his jaw in response, eyes already closing as his arms wrapped tighter around you. his heartbeat was steady under your cheek, and the warmth between you was enough to pull you both under.
no more distance. no more time zones. no more waiting.
-
the morning light crept in slow through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. it was quiet—the kind of stillness that only came on days where nothing was urgent, nothing pulling either of you away.
you shifted beneath the blankets, limbs still heavy with sleep, body warm from where it was pressed against his. it took you a second to register it.
your brow furrowed slightly as you blinked the sleep from your eyes. he was always up early—at the gym before you even woke up on most days, especially on off days when he had the time to train longer.
you blinked against the light, still half-asleep, turning your head slightly.
he was still there.
you blinked again. once. twice. his arm was draped across your waist, his chest rising and falling against your back. warmth seeped through every inch of where he touched you, grounding and still.
“you’re still here,” you murmured, voice low and a little raspy.
he made a low sound in response—something like a grunt, something like your name—his lips brushing your shoulder as he burrowed closer.
you shifted slightly, glancing at the clock. “dom,” you said, a little louder, your voice still thick. “you not going to the gym?”
he let out a slow, tired breath, barely audible. “five more minutes,” he murmured, hoarse and warm against your skin. his hand slid under your shirt right below your belly button, tracing slow, aimless lines on your skin.
you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your mouth. “you’re usually gone by now.”
his eyes stayed shut, his voice still half-asleep. “yeah, well… you wouldn’t let me leave.”
you huffed a soft laugh, turning in his arms so you were facing him. “what?”
“you wouldn’t let me leave,” he repeated, his voice still thick with sleep, but now with a hint of a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
you huffed a quiet laugh. “i didn’t force you stay.”
“you kind of did.” he said, his eyes fluttering open. his hand moved up your spine, his thumb brushing lightly at the nape of your neck. “you basically had me in a head lock.”
you raised a brow, voice dry. “oh, so i trapped you? dom you’re a wrestler. I do not have that much power over you,”
his smile grew, sleep still tugging at his features. “yeah. you do.”
you stared at him for a second, then muttered, “well could’ve escaped if you really wanted to.”
“nah.” he tucked his face against your neck again. “not worth it.”
you leaned in and kissed the edge of his jaw before whispering, “so… should i make breakfast or…?”
dom sighed like you just asked him to climb a mountain. “only if you’re making those cinnamon pancakes.”
you pulled back a little, smirking. “the ones you said were too sweet?”
his face stayed buried against your skin, but his arm tightened around your waist. “yea they’re too sweet but not bad, i was just being annoying.”
you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “you? annoying? no way.”
he chuckled into your collarbone. “shocking, i know.”
you grinned, shifting in his arms. “since they’re not too sweet, i guess i could just make one pancake. just for me.”
“foul,” he muttered.
you slipped out from under his arm before he could stop you, flipping the blanket back and hopping out of bed with a small shiver. “should’ve thought about that before you disrespected my kitchen skills.
dom’s groggy laugh followed you as you stepped out of reach. “babe—don’t play.”
you raised your hands innocently, still walking backward. “I would never.”
then you darted.
you took off down the hallway, bare feet light against the floor, giggling as you heard the rustle of blankets and the soft thud of him scrambling out of bed.
“oh, now you wanna move!” you called over your shoulder.
“im still half asleep!” his voice was half-laugh, half-growl, as he followed you.
your laughter echoed through the house, and just as you rounded the corner into the kitchen, luna shot up from her bed, barking excitedly—her tail wagging like she had no idea what was happening but refused to be left out.
“luna, get her!” dom joked, voice full of amusement as he padded after you, one hand raking through his messy hair.
“she’s on my side,” you called from the other end of the kitchen, reaching for the fridge like you weren’t about to get tackled by a 6’1 wwe wrestler.
he stopped, squinting at you like you’d just challenged him to a duel.
you held up the eggs. “last chance to apologize.”
he blinked. “…for what?”
“wow. okay.” you put the eggs onto the counter and took off again—laughing right as he lunged.
and before you could say anything else, he lunged.
he caught you just before the hallway, arms around your waist as he pulled you back into him, your feet barely touching the ground.
you shrieked. luna barked again, spinning in a circle.“alright, alright!” you laughed.
he held you tight, chin on your shoulder, breath warm against your ear. “you better be making those pancakes.”
you squirmed in his arms, still breathless. “only if you say it.”
“say what?”
you turned your head just enough to see the smug look growing on your face. “that you were wrong.”
he exhaled dramatically, tightening his grip like he was considering dropping you right there on the floor. “you really need this, huh?”
“yep.”
he groaned, leaning into you with a low mumble, “fine. i was wrong.”
“about?”
“about the pancakes,” he muttered like it physically hurt to say.
“and?”
he paused.
you raised an eyebrow. “don’t make me turn off the stove.”
he sighed, defeated. “they’re not too sweet. they’re actually… really good.”
you grinned, satisfied. “see? not so hard.”
“you’re lucky i love you,” he muttered, letting you go but not before stealing a kiss to the side of your jaw.
you slipped out of his grasp, heading back toward the kitchen with a victorious sway in your step. “you’re luckier.”
he followed behind you, rubbing at his eyes, half-awake but smiling. luna trotted after both of you.
“you’re making the coffee,” you called over your shoulder.
“after all that?” he scoffed. “you owe me coffee.”
“i owe you breakfast.” you started, cracking an egg into the bowl, “you owe me manners.”
“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, opening the cabinet. “but make mine first.”
“no promises.”
#fanfic#dominik mysterio#dominik mysterio imagine#dominik mysterio x reader#the judgement day#the judgment day x reader#wwe#wwe fanfiction#wwe imagines#dom dom
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Simon who doesn't know that his unmated roomate is in heat.
He's happy to go back to you after deployment, his omega — no well, not his. Not yet, this is what he means. And unaware he goes with a happy heart which races for the giddiness to see you again making his cheek burst into colours.
That until he clicks open the door. His whole body reacts to the humid, wet, sweet slick scent of you. It's everywhere. It's intoxicating, physically heavy, and it lingers over him. He breaths into your pheromones, rock hard in his pants.
Everything is a mess, which is unlike you.
“Simon…” It's so soft, like a whisper. He swallows hard to turn around at the marvelous, needy sight of you.
A huge t-shirt which he recognises as his own is down over your thighs, your skin is sweat sheen — rosey with heat, eyes droopy and lashes fluttering. “Si, I was waiting for you.” You say, and tip toe towards him.
Simon is fixated when you hug him, face cradling over his chest, sniffing into his scent. He feels you damp all over, “You are in heat.” Simon states, and you look up with puppy eyes.
“I missed you.” You grab over his abs, squeezing and moaning in it. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
His heart skips a beat. “I missed you too.”
“Fuck me.” you cry, hot tears welling up in your needy eyes. Please, please, please is what they chant.
“I—” Simon's cock does turns, he's so hard, and he wants nothing more than to give you his knot.
You press closer to him, trying to grind over his erection and Simon, with all his restraint manages to pull your open mouth away from biting in his neck, and keeps you one arm apart by a strong hold on your shoulders. His voice is a gravelled rasp, tighter than a chokehold. “Lovie… I can’t—this ain't what ya want.”
You whimper, fingers curling into his shirt and moving against his grip, hips still trying to move, seeking friction and you bet there's a wet spot over his pants.
“I need you, Si. C’mon it hurts .”
Simon’s heart twists with ache, he knows it hurts and it's hurting him as well. But you’re flushed and trembling and driven by your heat, that said — out of your mind with it.
You’d take him right here against the wall if he let you go along with it.
He wants you, he loves you. You were the only constant he thought about all the time away.
“Please, please…I—” you sob, trying to squirm away and flush into him. “I will be G-good for you…please Alpha.”
“You are good to me.” He bends slightly, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing deep and your sweetness filling his lungs. “But I won't do it until you consent to —”
“I want you !” You jump on your feet, exposing your throat in a tantrum.
“When you consent properly.” Simon looks away, it's so hard for him. He can't bear it, and almost loses himself in wanting to fuck you, give you knot, make you ride over it because that will make you feel good. Fuck — he wants to see you pregnant with his pups, full of em’ and the rise of your belly, and the sway of your hips, the mark of his claim over the delicate skin of your neck. His, his, his omega.
But properly — because you are the best thing that ever happened to him. “Do you trust me, huh ?” Simon asks.
Your eyes flutter, glossy and wet, lips parted. “Yes.”
“Then let me help you out. Properly. I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. Just not like this—not until I know you’re really mine.”
You make a wounded noise of a maimed kitten, but Simon slides down his palm from your shoulder to waist, and pulls you in his arms, alpha pheromones calming you down, even the pain stiffles.
“Have you eaten something ?”
His big palm soothes over your head and you shake your head, more immersed in breathing him in and of course, trying to get as much friction you could against his leg. Simon doesn't roll his eyes but his breathing is ragged. “Since when ?”
“I don't know, I was waiting for you.” You mumble softly, listening to his fast heartbeats.
“Okay, so —” Simon forgets when your navel pushes too hard against his erection and he hisses. You grin, with teary cheeks, and lick your lips.
“Let's get you something to eat then, hands off me now.”
You don't follow and whine when Simon backs off from you and starts to move into the kitchen. “No.” You chase after him.
“If you eat something for me, I will eat something from you.” Simon negotiates and opens the cabinets clueless as to what to make for you, something healthy.
“Promise ?” You stand beside the fridge, holding back your hands by keeping them curled at the hem of Simon's t-shirt. The only companion in your suffering from the past two days. All of his clothes are spoiled with your slick, and his pillows, and his sheets, and his whole room where you spent your heat unsatisfied and aching over dildos that felt nothing like he would feel.
“Promise.” Simon pulls out a mac-n-cheese box and thinks of sauteing vegetables and perhaps orange juice.
You nod, slowly, sitting over the counter and watching him work.
Trusting. Needy. Waiting. And thinking without any influence whatsoever —he’s your Alpha.
Masterlist
#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#call of duty#ghost call of duty#simon riley#cod#omegaverse#folkloregurl fics🪩
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riding buff gojo raw >_^
satoru just loves how soft you feel on his clothed body. your chubby mellow thighs snug against his own as you lean him up against the headboard. your hips digging to the bottom of his torso when you push to kiss him soo lovingly.
kissing him like he’ll disappear if you let his face go. and satoru kisses you back with more love. a couple worshipping each other passionately. after a few pecks just for good measure, he admires you carefully. fixing the turned strap of your thin tank top and sides of your creased panties, “so beautiful, angel.”
you squeeze his thick, hard bicep as he strokes your neck with one hand and holds your hip in the other.
kissing his soft wrist, “let me ride you, ‘toru.”
“mmm,” he hums, “go ahead, baby.”
like routine, you sit back just behind his bulge and tug down on his pants, tossing them. your mouth going dry at the sight of his cock tightly snug under his boxers, which are later thrown to the same pile. he naturally grabs a large condom from the nightstand, tearing it open with his teeth before rolling it down his length.
although curious, he distracts himself from watching you tie your hair up out of your face. only stopping after he’s completed it down, watching how you back up some more to lean down to his thighs.
you kiss the pale skin around his now plump base, pecking at the white hairs below his navel. you continue this act of sudden calm. peppering your love around your favorite, keeping your eyes on his covered cock, licking teasingly at the latex. gojo feels himself throb at your tranquility, your patience making him feel dazed.
“what’s up with you, baby? so eager before –” his amused smile dropping lightly when you look back up at him. he recognizes that ruttish desire behind your eyes, your wide gaze conveying so much more.
you tongue at the loose tip of the condom, sliding your tongue down to the base ring. opening your mouth just a little more, revealing your teeth and biting carefully. you keep the eye contact, enjoying how hypnotized the big guy looked. you peel it back off and throw it down to the pile of clothes. the pile of things keeping him away from you. before he can call any objections, you move closer to him, “know you wan’ it, ‘toru.”
sultry, so sensual he thinks as you discard your other restrictions. soft top and pretty bra gone. you keep a steady hold on his shoulders as he holds his now raw cock up for you to sink down on.
“you bratty girl, could’ve just told me you wanted to feel me from the in–side,” his head sexily throws back as he lets out a loud groan. your cunt fluttering against the new feeling of skin to skin, his sticky tip pushing through your tight, hot walls.
“but you just had to pull off a little show, huh?” he gathers his composure and dominance, his big hands finding their way to the fat of your hips as you sit with him bottomed out inside.
“i‘m sorry, ‘toru.” your little apology meaning nothing when you cry out moans as you move up and down and up and down on his lap.
“huh, shit, guess it’s fine, pretty. feels s’fucking good. lucky you’re cute.”
you slowly lose stamina but keep humping down against him, keeping yourself caved into his neck. breathing heavily into his sweaty neck before whining softly into his ear. your noises make him twitch and pulse inside you. your bounces regain power after feeling a thick vein rub against your sweet spot, which also happens to be gojo’s most sensitive part. quickly, you move to chase your high, the burning sensation of being so so so close so fast sends you blabbering.
“gonna come, satoru, i’m gonna c–ome…!” your pretty fingers dig into his neck and back, leaving red marks that he can’t focus on,
“mhhm, gonna come too, baby, keep going. ohmygod ‘m never gonna fuck you with that stupid shit again, jus’ raw from now, yeah? feel this pretty pussy on my cock.” how could he have gone so long without feeling you? really feeling you? having your moans ring in his ears and your pretty soft body squished on his strong, lean one was already so perfect. but having your bare cunt squeeze and hug his cock sent him to the edge, literally.
his hard grip bruises your waist as he shoots out a thick heavy load right against your cervix. he swears he heard you mumble thank you’s as you come around him. the fuzzy warmth from his cum and dizziness from your intense orgasm overwhelms you and you lean up against him to lay on him. satoru kisses your sweet scented hair, deciding he’s throwing out every rubber in the house!
masterlist
#goaskangel#dubcon jjk#cw: dubcon#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami x reader#toji fushiguro#jjk smut#nanami kento#gojo satoru#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru fic#satoru gojo
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[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist
Jayce:
-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”
Viktor:
-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”
Ekko:
-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry
Vander:
-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.
-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married
Silco (old man):
-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”
Silco (young):
-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy
Steb:
-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready
Jinx:
-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman
Vi:
-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”
-"My... wife?"
-"Again"
Caitlyn:
-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled
Mel:
-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue
Sevika:
-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple
#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#vander x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#sevika x reader#mel x reader#jayce talis#viktor arcane#ekko arcane#silco arcane#arcane vander#jinx#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#mel medarda#sevika#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane 2#arcane writing#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn arcane#mel arcane#jinx arcane#arcane jinx#arcane silco
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Choso smut + N$FW audio
• minors do not interact!
──── Choso was feeling so strange about receiving a blowjob for the first time in his life.
And even though it was a new sensation for him, it was surprising. Choso had restless hands, unsure where to put them, his tongue came out of his mouth, wetting his dry thin lips. Choso's cock felt heavy on your tongue, spreading the drops of pre-cum that gathered above the slit, his skin was hot, essentially burning at your touch. He let out a short moan as he felt your wet silky tongue moving slightly under the head of his penis. You used your hands to anchor yourself, your nails leaving crescent moons on the surface of his thick muscular thighs as you gripped him.
On impulse, Choso entered your flexible mouth with more force, the sudden act causing you to gag, which immediately made Choso concerned when he noticed.
But you were quick to reassure him, smiling wickedly at him while still holding him in your mouth. You then moved your fingers down to his heavy balls, caressing them firmly, eliciting a sudden moan from Choso.
"So you're the type who enjoys choking games, Cho? What a dirty boy you're proving to be, huh?" You tease, smiling even wider when you notice him shrinking back shyly. You resume sucking him, this time faster and squeezing him harder.
"N-no, I didn't mean to do t-that, shit, please, slower" He tries to explain as he struggles not to reach his limit yet. The uncomfortable sensation from the beginning was barely present now as pleasure took over.
"Ah, baby, it's okay. You can fuck my throat if you want" Your voice, sounding so velvety while saying such promiscuous things, left Choso mesmerized.
He murmurs softly and you feel the blockage in your throat open up as Choso's cock reaches deeper, but this time slowly. Your mouth gradually closes around Choso's penis, getting tighter for him with each second as he settles shakily into you.
And Choso settled into your little mouth, moaning louder as he felt your throat around him, pushing himself into you until your nose bumped against his pelvis. His head tilted back and eyes tightly shut, his shoulders rising and falling erratically as he frantically tried to control his breathing.
"A-ah, that's it, so deep" Choso says hoarsely, now allowing himself to stroke your hair. You murmured in acknowledgment, running your nails along his thighs, sending shivers down his skin. Choso's breath caught when your throat vibrated around him, causing you to shift position as your pussy became uncomfortably wet, craving touch.
Choso's grip on your hair tightened, now using it to guide your head down rather than having to push into you. His brows furrowed, lips parting in a soft moan as he guided your mouth up and down along his shaft. Your tongue tracing the veins that slightly protruded on his skin, the salty taste of pre-cum coating your mouth entirely. Drool accumulated at the back of your throat and dribbled from the corners of your mouth each time Choso entered or withdrew. You sucked the saliva and pre-cum that flooded your mouth, causing him to feel your throat tighten around his cock every time you swallowed.
"I knew you liked this, you pervert " You tease again, amused and breathless, while Choso, in turn, has his lips curling into a small satisfied smile as he drifts further into his own pleasure.
ㅤㅤㅤ
Finally, Choso's version!! (I think this needs to be turned up a bit more to be heard better)
Which one do you suggest should be next?
Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome 🫶🏻💕
#choso smut#choso x reader#choso x fem!reader#choso x female reader#choso kamo x female reader#choso kamo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#choso x you#jjk x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#choso kamo smut#choso imagine#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk imagines#choso x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader smut#jjk choso#choso jujutsu kaisen#choso kamo x you#choso kamo x y/n#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#kamo choso x reader#Choso
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S1 RAFE FUCKING NEW TOPPER’S GF

the sound of your phone ringing was suppressed by the sound of your moans and whines as rafe tried to push his way through your tight walls, with them squeezing hard already around just his tip. your boyfriend's name had meanwhile appeared on the screen, calling insistently.
“fuckin’ sake” rafe spat out, coming all the way in with a hard movement of his hips, his fingers pressing into your reddening and soft thighs. “turn it off” he ordered, starting with a hard, messy rhythm, making his head fall back with a grunt. but you didn’t even know what he was talking about, arching your back as you only thought about getting your head fucked out by him and his heavenly ways.
your phone kept ringing, and with every little sound it made, his thrusts became harder; his frustration growing just like the bubbling feeling in your belly. with little movement of his arm, he quickly turned off the phone, before landing his hand back on your hip with a slap, making you quickly open your eyes that had been closed from too much stimulation, whimpering pathetically. “i don’t want— i don’t want fuckin’ interruptions, got it?” his voice was heavy, breathless even more as he moved to adjust his angle, which he was still unsatisfied with.
in response, you gave him a small nod, but it clearly wasn’t enough. he grabbed you by the neck, lifting your head slightly as he ran a finger over your quivering bottom lip, tugging it down even more “use your words, pretty. i want to feel you louder than you’ve ever been”
“y-yes” you breathed out, your face twisting in pleasure, and dragging your fingers down his back — leaving sinful marks all over his bare skin. he hissed slightly at the sensation, but god did he love it. as the pace increased, your moans filling the room entirely, replacing the silence, your phone started ringing again.
rafe, without your permission, took the phone without any further words, all while lifting your leg to put it on his shoulder. answering the call, the first thing topper heard was the loud moan you let out as rafe hit that sweet spot that had you completely, and the boy couldn’t help but smirk as he spoke for you. “shit— y’need somethin’, top? callin’ with such urgency, huh?” his quietness and fake innocence, mixed with the sounds of his balls slamming against you harder and harder, were deafening to your boyfriend who was on the other hand.
“rafe?” that was all topper said in a broken whisper, before being also interrupted by rafe groaning again, speaking into the microphone rapidly. “fuck, man, you may need to wait a minute— i’m makin’ your girl cum, yeah? i’ll call you later” and with that, he hung up without any useless words, not losing his speed for a second. in fact, true to his words, with his name over and over again cried out by you, you came hard around him. rafe following close behind, inside you, without a condom.
#rafe cameron#fem reader#rafe cameron blurbs#rafe cameron smut#obx x reader#rafe x reader#smut#18+ mdni#outer banks
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Poly 141 x Reader
Home is where you are
"What ye think she made this time?"
Johnny mumbles, dropping his head back against the seat behind him. Blinking tiredly up at the ceiling of the truck, a daydream clear in his eyes. Simon next to him stares out the window, sweat seems to practically seal his balaclava to his face.
"We'd be lucky if anything. It's three in the fucking morning.."
Kyle says from the passenger seat. Pursing his lips a bit.
"She should be sleeping.."
Price chuckles from the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, paying close attention to the road.
"She knows we're on our way home. If she made something. We'll be thankful."
His other hand is resting on Kyle's knee, his thumb rubs slow circles against him.
Simons foot taps on the floor of the car silently, brows tight together. The man just wants to go home, shower, eat whatever heaven you cooked and sink into that california king mattress. With all of you, all five of you together.
"Steaks."
He mutters.
"Hm?"
Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.
"On days we come home.. it's either steak or shepherds pie. She made shepherds pie last time so it's gonna be steak."
They all salivate at the damn thought.
"It's tha little things with ye huh Simon?"
Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.
It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are. Filing out of the truck, bags over their shoulders. Covered in grime and dried blood, they didn't even let themselves clean up at base before going home to you. Walking forward, Simon slings an arm around Kyle's shoulder. Tucking the sargeant into his side as they walk to the house. Both Johns walking behind them, Price giving the younger a good slap on the back.
"Home, boys. Let's enjoy it while we can."
Price comes forward to unlock the front door, pushing it open for the four of them. Mumbling out a reminder to take off their shoes inside. Leaning down with a grunt to pull off his boots. The others doing the same. They can already smell what you're cooking, Simon was right. The smell of steaks is pretty clear, garlic butter, some kind of steamed vegetables and spices.
The house is clean. Warm. Low lighting, some candles lit. Everything about it screams home. John opens his mouth to call out for you, but he can feel his spine practically melt hearing you hum in the kitchen.
Johnny is the first stumbling forward, hopping on one leg as he throws off his remaining shoe. Eager to get back to you. Grinning as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. He melts. Seeing you there, in your chair dishing up their plates of dinner.
".. Hey lass.."
He mumbles, feeling like all the air left his chest.
You turn your head when you hear him, the brightest smile spreads across your face. Tossing the fork down from your hand as you turn towards him.
"Hey soldier-"
You beam. You don't even get another word in before Johnny rushes towards you, you let out a puff of air as he crashes into you. Laughing against him as he squeezes you to his chest, his face buried in your hair.
"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."
He whispers. You return with one of your own.
"I know baby.. I missed you too.."
You lift your head, kissing the scar on his chin.
"This bloke botherin' you love?"
You already know that voice immediately, smiling as you turn to look at Kyle. Who is quick at your side with Johnny, his hand cups the back of your head. Pressing a long kiss to your cheek. Taking a deep inhale of your scent through his nose. You smile warmly, your hand finds his bicep, giving a soft squeeze.
"There you are Kyle.."
You murmur, turning your head to press your own kisses across the bridge of his nose.
"Always here."
He chirps, kissing on your skin. His eyes bore into you, drinking you up. Johnny huffs, mumbling something about stealing all your attention. Earning a small tug on his mowhawk from you.
"Alright you two- showers. The both of you. You need it-"
You chuckle, giving them both a hug. Giving Johnny one more kiss on the jaw. Letting Gaz get one more kiss on your face. Watching them head past you down the hall to the bathroom. Kissing on eachother, bumping into walls. You shake your head at them with a smile.
Eyes flicking back to the entrance. You find Simon staring at you, his shoulders slack and sinking. Eyes half lidded and tired. The rest of his face under the balaclava. Your eyes soften, holding out your hand to him.
"Oh Si.."
He takes the invitation. Coming over to you. He would tower over you in height. But instead he falls to one knee in front of your chair. Hands resting on the arm rests of your chair. Your hands immediately cradle his head. Leaning forward to press your head to his.
"You're home.. it's alright now .. no more Lieutenant.."
You whisper against him. Your fingertips lift the edge of the balaclava, pulling it over the nape of his neck. Over the back of his head, nails dragging soothingly up his scalp as you take the fabric away. Making him shiver in vulnerability. Putting his mask aside on the counter.
Seeing your Simons face eases the both of you, cupping his jaw and lifting his head.
"I know doll.. I know."
He mutters, you kiss his temple. Caressing his skin. Threading your fingers into his hair.
"Go shower with the boys sweetheart.. I'll be in there soon."
You coo at him. He chuckles deeply, kissing your head between your brows as he gets up. Bumping your foreheads together one more time before walking to the bathroom.
"You're not gonna say hello to me John?"
You joke, turning your head to watch said Captain. Who was holding his hat in hand, leaning against the wall watching you. He's been watching you the whole time.
"Just seein' you with our boys darlin'.."
Pushing away from the wall he walks over to you. His eyes full of exhaustion, longing, warmth. Tossing his hat on the counter behind you. He leans down, callous hands hold your cheeks. Bringing your lips to his.
He's not as sneaky as he thinks. You know of his little demand to the boys. He's the first to kiss you. Each time they come home.
You kiss him back feverishly, as much as you've been calm and steady for them. You missed your men like hell. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, beginning to work on the knots of tension in them. Emitting a deep groan from John into your mouth. You smile against his lips, feeling the scratch off his beard.
"Everyone's alright?"
You whisper against him. He nods, his hands finding your hips. Slightly lifting you from your chair and towards himself.
"No one's broken. .. Kyle's a little stressed. Y'know how he is.."
You nod, eyes still closed, continuing to brush your lips together.
"And you?"
"Just tired.. But I'm home. That's what matters."
John mumbles, kissing you deep again. Dipping his tongue past your lips, a soft sigh slipping out of you. Arms pulling him closer.
"Taking good care of our boys John.. You always do.. Making sure you all come home to me again... Our strong Captain.."
You can feel him sinking at your praise. The older mans knees want to buckle at your voice.
"Let's get you in the shower baby.. Hm? Get you washed and relaxed.."
You mumble against him.
You yelp as your lifted into the air by his arms, laughing openly as he carries you like a bride. Burying his nose to the crook of your neck. Carrying you down the hall, to the bathroom door. Where you can already hear the chatter of the men in the shower waiting for the two of you. John is grumbling against your skin.
"We need you darlin'. "
"Our boys and I need you bad.."
#disabled reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#cod mw x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#simon riley x reader#kyle garrick x reader#john price x reader#poly 141 x reader#taskforce 141 x reader#simon ghost x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz x reader#captain john price x reader
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⍣ ೋ cw: tease tease tease. explicit sexual content. unprotected sex. overstimulation. fingering. oral. breeding kink. daddy kink. manhandling. power play. degradation/praise. mdni.
notes: in which you read something about chan having a daddy kink on stayville and run with it.
The afternoon was one of those perfect, lazy ones—the kind where time barely mattered, and the world outside your little bubble felt distant. Rain drizzled against the windows, a soft, rhythmic hum, and Chris was warm against you, his body curled into yours on the couch. His hand rested on your thigh, his thumb rubbing gentle, absentminded circles as you both scrolled through your phones, comfortably lost in the quiet.
“Hey,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
Chris glanced over at you, his gaze filled with something soft, something only meant for you. He squeezed your thigh lightly, his thumb lingering for a second longer. “Hey,” he murmured back, voice low and fond.
You don’t even hesitate. “Is it true you like being called ‘daddy’?”
The air shifted.
Chris stiffened slightly, the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against your side coming to an abrupt stop. His eyebrows knit together as his phone lowered, and he blinked at you. “Huh?”
You bit your lip, barely holding back a laugh at his reaction. “I mean, I keep seeing things online,” you continued, keeping your tone casual, even though you were fully enjoying this. “Stay seem really convinced that it’s, like… a thing for you.”
Chris just stared at you. Then, in one smooth motion, he locked his phone, placed it on the coffee table, and turned his full attention to you.
“Give me your phone.”
You gasp, clutching it to your chest. “Absolutely not.”
“Give. Me. Your. Phone.”
“You can’t stop me from knowing things, Christopher.”
He’s fast, snatching for your phone. You let out a yelp, trying to yank it away, but he was faster, snatching it clean from your grip. “What did I say about staying out of Stayville? It’s dangerous there.”
You shrug feigning innocence. “I was just scrolling, and it came up.”
“What exactly came up?” He squints at your screen, scrolling with exaggerated judgment.
You whine, reaching for it, but he holds it high above your head, his other arm locking you against his chest. “Chris! Give it back!”
He ignores you, still scrolling, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to absolute horror. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
You bit your lip, barely suppressing your laughter as he scrolled.
Chris ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. “Why are they like this?”
“Because you—” you poked his cheek, “—give them material.”
He caught your hand, holding it against his chest. “I do not.”
“You so do.”
Chris huffs, clearly exasperated but also too amused to fully commit to his indignation. “I literally just exist, and they make up the most unhinged things.”
You give him a pointed look. “Chris, baby… be so for real.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe I—” He pauses, struggling. “Maybe I… give them some material.”
You grin triumphantly. “There it is.” You shift so you were leaning into him, your chin resting against his shoulder. "So, you're saying it's not true?"
His jaw twitches. He hesitated for just a fraction of a second too long, and that was all you needed.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes widening in exaggerated delight. “It is true.”
Chris groaned again, dramatically flopping backward against the cushions. "It's not. I hate you."
"You love me," you corrected, poking his side until he squirmed. "And you also love being called—"
His hand clamped over your mouth before you could say it, his palm warm against your lips. "Don't." His eyes were dark, but his voice held that unmistakable lilt of warning.
You blinked up at him innocently, but the mischievous glint in your eyes betrayed you. You licked his palm.
Chris yelped, pulling his hand away like he'd been burned. "You animal."
You were cackling now, barely able to breathe through your laughter as he wiped his palm against your hoodie like you’d just infected him with some incurable disease.
"You're disgusting," he grumbled, but his lips were twitching.
"You love it."
"I tolerate it."
"You love it," you repeated, beaming at him. "And you definitely love being called—"
Before you could finish your sentence, Chris tackled you, rolling you beneath him on the couch, his hands pinning your wrists against the cushions. His nose was barely an inch from yours, his breath warm as he spoke. "Finish that sentence, and I swear—"
You blinked up at him, the challenge practically dripping from your smirk. "What? You’ll punish me?"
His eyes narrowed, but the way his lips twitched betrayed him. “Careful.”
“Oh no,” you gasped, feigning terror. “Are you gonna make me behave... Daddy?”
Chris groaned, letting his forehead thud dramatically against yours as a laugh bubbled out of him. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m your favorite,” you corrected, beaming up at him.
He huffed, though the way his gaze softened betrayed his amusement. “Unfortunately.”
______________________________________________________________
It started small.
A passing whisper in his ear when you walked by. A smug little smirk whenever you said his name just a little too sweetly.
An innocent stretch while calling out, "Daddy, can you pass me the remote?" like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Chris played it off the first few times. He’d roll his eyes, let out an exasperated sigh, and mutter, “You’re insufferable,” before going back to whatever he was doing.
But you saw it. The way his jaw would clench, how his fingers would flex like he was restraining himself. The flicker of something darker in his gaze that vanished as quickly as it came.
You weren’t dumb. You knew Chris. You knew that teasing him like this was playing with fire, especially because he was always so soft with you. You had him wrapped around your finger—he kissed the ground you walked on, always so patient, so gentle, even when you pushed him.
But patience had limits. And you were determined to find his.
You started pushing.
By now, you were convinced he was doing everything in his power to ignore it—to ignore you. But you saw through it.
You saw the way his jaw clenched every time you purred Daddy in that syrupy-sweet tone. You noticed how his fingers twitched when you batted your lashes at him, playing the role of the innocent little thing you so clearly weren’t. You caught the way his ears turned red when you leaned in too close, lips grazing his ear as you murmured, Thank you, Daddy—for the smallest things, like opening a jar or holding the door for you.
And yet, still, he hadn’t snapped.
So, you pushed harder.
One night, while sitting next to him at the dorm, you absentmindedly played with the chain around his neck, your fingers tracing the curve of his collarbone. The others were watching a movie.
Chris, ever the affectionate boyfriend, had one arm lazily draped over the couch behind you, his focus mostly on the screen—until you leaned in, lips barely brushing his ear.
"You’re so good to me, Daddy."
His entire body went rigid beside you.
A sharp inhale, a slight clench of his jaw—before, once again, he exhaled through his nose, choosing to ignore you.
You almost pouted.
But when you glanced up, you caught it—the flicker of something dark in his eyes before he blinked it away.
Oh, you were getting to him.
Later that night, as you lounged in bed, he propped himself up on one elbow, voice deceptively light. "You think you’re real cute, don’t you?"
You grinned, stretching languidly against the sheets. "I know I am."
Chris’ fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your hip. "You like testing me, huh?"
You hummed, shifting to face him, lips just shy of his. "What, you don’t like it?"
For a moment, you thought he might finally snap—but instead, he exhaled through his nose, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before rolling onto his back. "Goodnight, baby."
Disappointment.
You had expected him to at least call your bluff. Maybe flip you over, put you in your place. But no—he was still Chris, soft and loving, never pushing past what you allowed.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
So, you planned your final move carefully.
______________________________________________________________
Chris was tired. Not from work or the chaos of the boys—no, this exhaustion had a name.
You.
Weeks of teasing. A soft “Daddy” here, a sweetly smug smile there, and Chris held onto his patience with a white-knuckled grip. But you pushed—again and again. And he didn’t snap. Not yet.
He was at the studio with Changbin and Jisung, trying to focus when a knock interrupted. Jisung answered, revealing a delivery guy holding takeout bags.
“Uh... delivery for Daddy?” the guy announced, glancing at the receipt.
Silence.
Jisung and Changbin lost it, cackling while Chris stood frozen—expression dark, jaw clenched. Slowly, he took the bags. “Thanks,” he bit out, the door clicking shut.
Ignoring their laughter, Chris pulled out his phone and typed a message with deadly calm:
Be home by the time I get there. Do not make me come find you.
He pocketed his phone and left, tension coiled tight in his shoulders.
You weren’t home when he arrived. You could practically feel the moment his patience snapped, like a distant thunderclap on the horizon. But you didn’t rush. No, you dragged it out—lingering at a late-night café, scrolling through your phone with a smirk, ordering another drink just because you could. Chris wanted you home? Then home was the last place you’d be.
By the time you finally decided to return, it was late—far later than it should have been. The air outside was thick with the weight of your own defiance, every step toward your front door deliberate, measured.
You knew he was inside.
The apartment was eerily quiet when you pushed the door open, the usual hum of music or the soft murmur of the TV absent. Just silence. Heavy. Waiting.
You barely had time to set your keys down before you felt it—that unmistakable presence.
Chris sat in the dimly lit living room, sprawled on the couch like a king on his throne. One arm draped over the back, the other resting on his knee, fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm. His eyes found you immediately, dark and unreadable. Not a single muscle moved, but the energy around him crackled.
“Baby,” you greeted, with a casual smile. “You waited up.”
Chris didn’t answer right away. He just watched. Studied. The air felt thick, suffocating in the silence.
And then—slowly, deliberately—he leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs, voice dangerously calm.
“Where were you?”
There it was. That quiet fury, simmering just beneath the surface.
You shrugged, toeing off your shoes. “Out.”
His tongue clicked against his teeth, his gaze unwavering. “Out.” A beat of silence. “You got my message.”
It wasn’t a question.
You swallowed, refusing to let the weight of his stare shake you. “I did.”
Chris exhaled through his nose, fingers flexing against his knees. Still eerily calm. Still watching. And yet, something about the way he held himself—the way his jaw ticked, the way his shoulders sat so unnaturally still—sent a prickle of unease down your spine.
“You do that on purpose?”
You took a step closer, tilting your head. “What if I did?”
Chris let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. He pushed off the couch, moving toward you with slow, measured steps. The closer he got, the smaller the space between you felt—until he was right there, close enough that his warmth seeped into your skin.
His fingers brushed your chin, tilting it up just enough to meet his gaze fully.
“You think this is funny?”
Your breath hitched. “Maybe a little.”
Chris hummed—a low, unimpressed sound that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers lingered against your jaw, deceptively gentle, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. You could feel it there—your own heartbeat, hammering wildly beneath his touch, betraying the nonchalance you were so desperately trying to hold onto.
“Is that right?” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful. “You think it’s funny to ignore me? To push me?”
Oh, you were in trouble.
The kind of trouble that made your stomach twist, that sent heat prickling down your spine, that made your pulse stutter when Chris’s thumb pressed just a little harder against the rapid thrum of your heartbeat.
You knew exactly what you were doing—poking at something primal, something restrained, something that you weren’t sure even Chris had fully let himself acknowledge.
And yet, even as he loomed over you now, eerily calm, his gaze dark and unreadable, you still pushed.
You smirked. “I think it’s fun.”
Chris exhaled sharply through his nose, like he was barely holding something back. His fingers traced along your jaw, slow, deliberate, before trailing lower—down the column of your throat, pressing just lightly enough that your breath caught, that your lips parted in an unspoken challenge.
“Fun,” he echoed, his voice a whisper of something dangerous.
You swallowed, and his eyes flickered down, watching the movement with quiet intensity. His hand lingered for a moment longer before he took a step back, putting space between you that somehow felt heavier than his touch.
Then, he smiled.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t warm. It was something else entirely—something that made your stomach flip, that sent heat curling low in your belly.
“Alright,” Chris murmured, his tone infuriatingly casual. “You wanna play?”
His hand fisted in your hair, dragging your head back as his mouth crushed against yours—no hesitation, no warmth, just teeth and frustration and the weight of every time you’d pushed him past his patience. His tongue shoved past your lips, licking deep, swallowing the soft gasp you barely had time to let out before he was pulling back, teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging, like he wanted to hurt just a little.
Then he let go.
Your scalp tingled from the force of his grip, your lips slick and tingling from his bite, but he didn’t give you a second to process before his hand was on your throat, pushing—not choking, just forcing you back, walking you blind toward the couch until the edge caught the backs of your knees. You wobbled, grabbing his forearm on instinct, but Chris didn’t stop. He kept pushing until you fell onto the cushions, then he was on you, knee pressing between your thighs, caging you in, his palm still firm on your neck.
“You think this is fun, huh?” His voice was quiet, but there was nothing soft about it. “Teasing me for weeks, acting all cute, saying shit you knew would get to me?” His knee pressed harder, not enough friction, just enough pressure to make you squirm. “Go on, baby. Laugh. Thought it was real fucking funny before.”
Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the weight of his body so close but still not where you wanted him. You knew what he was doing. This wasn’t the usual game where he’d pretend to resist, where he’d give in after a little bit of teasing. No, he was making you sit in it now. Making you feel the consequences.
Chris leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice dropping even lower. “You wanted my attention. Now you’ve got it. What the fuck do you wanna do with it?”
You exhaled sharply, fingers flexing against his forearm. “Chris, I—”
His hand moved from your throat to your jaw, forcing your head back. His eyes were dark, pupils blown, but his expression was nothing like the soft, eager-to-please boyfriend you knew.
“Try again.”
You swallowed, pulse hammering beneath his fingers. This was new. With you, he was always patient, always indulgent, always so fucking soft. But this? This wasn’t soft. This was something else entirely.
“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat when he suddenly leaned in, lips just ghosting over yours.
“You what?” he murmured, his breath warm against your mouth, teasing, taunting. “Not feeling so mouthy anymore?”
Your fingers twitched against his forearm, nails digging in slightly. You knew better than to play dumb now. Knew you had pushed and pushed and pushed—until finally, you weren’t in control anymore.
But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to test him.
You wet your lips, your voice deliberately sweet. “I just wanted your attention, Daddy.”
Chris inhaled sharply through his nose. His grip shifted, fingers tilting your chin up higher, forcing you to hold his gaze. “Yeah?” he mused, his tone almost mocking. “That what you wanted?”
You nodded, batting your lashes. “Mhm.”
Chris’ jaw ticked, his fingers flexing—before suddenly, he let go.
For a second, you almost thought he was pulling away. That he was going to do what he always did—roll his eyes, kiss your forehead, and let you get away with it.
But then, his hand was at your throat again, pressing you back into the couch, pinning you there without so much as an ounce of effort.
“You want my attention?” His knee wedged between your thighs, spreading them wide, forcing you open. His other hand trailed down, fingertips barely brushing over your inner thigh—so close, but not close enough.
His lips curled as he pressed the barest hint of pressure between your legs, right where you needed him most. You exhaled shakily, hips twitching toward his touch.
Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “So desperate,” he murmured, almost fondly—before he pulled his hand away entirely.
You whined, arching toward him, but he tsked, pressing you back into the cushions.
“You’ve been running that pretty little mouth for weeks,” he mused, his thumb tracing along your lower lip, pressing in just slightly before dragging down your chin. “So fucking bratty, thinking you could do whatever you wanted and get away with it.” His eyes darkened, his voice dipping even lower. “What made you think I’d let you off easy, sweetheart?”
You shivered, swallowing hard. “I—”
Chris just smiled. “You thought I’d cave?” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Nah. Not tonight.”
His fingers trailed lower again, teasing, skimming along the edges of where you wanted him, never quite giving in. You whimpered, shifting against his knee, seeking friction.
Chris noticed.
“Oh, baby,” he cooed, mockingly sweet. “What’s wrong?”
You glared at him, lips parted, breath uneven. “Chan—”
He tsked again, his grip tightening on your throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it. “Wrong.”
You swallowed, cheeks flushing. “Daddy—”
“There she is,” Chris murmured, lips barely brushing yours.
You thought that was it—that he was finally going to give in. But then, he was shifting, pulling away again, dragging out the anticipation.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he continued, voice slow, deliberate. “You’re gonna sit right here, and you’re gonna take whatever I decide to give you.” His fingers traced along your inner thigh, featherlight, teasing. “And you’re not gonna come until I say.”
Your breath caught. “Chris—”
“Did I say you could speak?”
You sucked in a sharp breath, your thighs clenching involuntarily. Chris noticed that too. His smirk deepened.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he mused, dragging his fingers higher, finally pressing them against your clothed heat, rubbing the softest, slowest circles. “You like when I tell you what to do?”
Your pulse thundered beneath his touch, but you forced a pout. “Maybe.”
Chris’s smirk was a slow, dangerous thing. “Maybe?” He pressed harder, just enough to make your hips twitch, to drag a broken whine from your lips. “Still got that attitude, huh?”
You wanted to fire back—something smart, something witty—but his fingers worked lazy, torturous circles, each drag and press igniting sparks of pleasure that made thinking impossible. The smirk didn’t fade as he watched you struggle, amusement flickering in his eyes.
“You wanted my attention,” Chris murmured, dipping his head to press his lips against your jaw—soft, teasing. A mockery of gentleness. “But you keep running your mouth. You think that’s a good idea?”
You whimpered, every nerve alight, but you managed a defiant little smirk. “I think you like it.”
Chris hummed, his mouth brushing your ear. “Oh, I do. I love it when you act out, princess. Just means I get to remind you who’s in charge.”
You opened your mouth to quip back, but his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down your thighs with a deliberate slowness that had you trembling. He didn’t even look—eyes locked on yours, dark and taunting—as he shoved them aside, baring you to his gaze.
“Let’s see how long that attitude lasts,” Chris drawled, sinking to his knees.
He hooked your thighs over his shoulders, strong hands splaying possessively across your hips. His breath was hot against your bare skin, lips trailing lazy kisses up your inner thigh. Every inch of contact had your breath quickening, your resolve fraying. You tried to wriggle closer, but his grip tightened, pinning you in place.
“Impatient,” he chided, his tongue tracing a slow, maddening path closer—so close. “Thought you liked games, baby.”
A strangled whimper slipped from your lips, thighs quivering where Chris held you pinned. The wicked, taunting curve of his mouth made your pulse jump—anticipation coiling hot and tight in your stomach.
“You talk a big game, sweetheart,” he murmured, breath feathering over the most sensitive part of you. “But look at you now—already falling apart and I haven’t even touched you properly.”
Your hips twitched, the barest grind against his mouth, but his grip tightened, fingers digging into your thighs just hard enough to sting. A warning.
“Ah, ah,” Chris tutted, squeezing until you stilled. “You’ve had weeks to run your mouth. Now, you’re gonna stay still and be good for me, yeah?”
The teasing lilt of his voice sent heat prickling along your skin, a shiver rippling down your spine. You wanted to argue, but the words caught in your throat as his tongue traced a slow, teasing circle around where you needed him most.
The soft, wet heat of his mouth was a shock, a lightning bolt of sensation that had your head falling back, a choked moan spilling free. Chris hummed against you, the vibration a taunt of its own, lips curling into a smirk that you could feel more than see.
“Fuck, baby,” he drawled, fingers pressing bruises into your skin. “You’re already dripping. This what you wanted? Attention from Daddy?”
“Y-Yes,” you gasped, fingers curling into the couch cushions as he licked another slow, deliberate stripe.
Chris’s tongue flicked over you again—slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you bit by bit. Your hands scrabbled for purchase, nails biting into the cushions as your hips twitched, desperate for more.
But just as you started to grind against his mouth, a sharp smack echoed through the room, pain blossoming between your thighs. You cried out, hips jerking back in shock, but his hands held you firm—pinned and helpless beneath his unyielding grip.
Chris looked up at you with a raised brow, eyes dark and unrelenting. “Did I tell you to move?”
You whimpered, the sting lingering, and tried to catch your breath. “N-No, Daddy—”
Another slap—sharper this time—landed on your swollen, slick folds, sending a shudder through your whole body. Tears pricked your eyes, but the heat pooling in your stomach only grew, arousal mingling with the ache.
“That’s right,” he muttered, tone low and warning. “You’re gonna stay fucking still unless I tell you otherwise. Got it?”
You nodded, lip trembling, but Chris wasn’t satisfied. His hand tightened on your thigh, fingers digging in just enough to make you squirm. “Use your words, princess,” he demanded, voice rough and unforgiving.
“Yes, Daddy,” you managed to choke out, voice barely above a whisper.
He hummed in approval, pressing a brief, almost gentle kiss to your inner thigh before his mouth returned to you—hot and wet, tongue flicking over your swollen clit with deliberate, calculated precision. Your body arched instinctively, desperate for more, but you forced yourself to stay still, the threat of his hand still tingling through your skin.
“That’s better,” he muttered between slow, lazy licks, his breath searing against your oversensitive nerves. “Such a pretty little thing when you’re behaving.”
Your whole body burned under the praise, the contrast between his harsh treatment and his soft words leaving you dizzy. You were barely holding it together, every flick of his tongue making your hips twitch despite your best efforts to obey.
Chris’s tongue never slowed.
Each flick over your clit sent sparks racing through your nerves, making your thighs tremble where he held them apart. You wanted to move—had to move—but his grip was unforgiving, fingers digging into your skin like a silent warning.
“Such a needy little thing,” he murmured against your skin, breath hot and mocking. “Spent all that time teasing me, and now look at you.”
You whimpered, back arching when his tongue flattened against your clit, pressing hard before dragging down to your entrance. He licked into you, slow and deliberate, groaning like he was the one getting wrecked.
“Taste so fucking good,” Chris muttered, voice muffled by the way he buried himself between your legs. “So wet for me. Bet you’d let me do anything to you right now, huh?”
You nodded frantically, breath coming in sharp gasps. You were already on edge, already burning—weeks of teasing, of pushing him, finally catching up to you in the most devastating way.
Chris pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips slick, chin shining with your arousal. “Use your words, princess.”
“Anything, Daddy,” you gasped. “A-anything–fuck–”
Chris hummed, pleased, before diving back in. His tongue was relentless, licking into you with obscene noises, lapping at every drop you gave him. And when his fingers joined—two thick digits pressing inside without warning—you nearly sobbed.
“Oh, baby.” His voice was low, taunting. “Haven’t touched you in a while, have I? You’re so tight.” His fingers curled, pressing just right, and your whole body jolted. “How do you think you’re gonna take my cock?”
You clenched around him, and Chris laughed.
“Yeah? That what you want?” His fingers pumped deeper, stretching you open, teasing that one spot that made your vision blur. “Want Daddy to fill you up? Make you take every drop?”
Your body was too hot, too tight—you couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but nod and whimper. Chris didn’t like that.
He smacked your thigh, sharp enough to sting. “Words.”
“Yes! Yes, Daddy, I—” Your voice caught as he crooked his fingers, fucking them into you with ruthless precision. “Want you to come inside me, please—please—”
Chris groaned, low and dark. “That’s my girl.”
Your orgasm slammed into you before you could even brace for it, pleasure surging through you in dizzying waves. Your thighs trembled, hands fisting the cushions, body locking up as you came with a broken moan.
But he didn’t stop.
Not for a second.
His fingers kept thrusting, his tongue kept flicking, dragging you through it—and right into another.
“Ngnn—Chri–daddy—fuck, I—” Your voice was broken, wrecked, your body barely able to keep up with the relentless pleasure tearing through you.
Chris just smirked. “Oh, baby,” he cooed, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Too much?”
You nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, your body twitching and jerking beneath him.
He hummed, fingers fucking into you harder. “Nah,” he murmured, low and smug. “You can take more.”
Your second orgasm hit before you could even process his words. Your entire body locked up, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Chris groaned against you, tongue lapping up every bit of your release like he needed it, his fingers fucking you through the brutal aftershocks.
Still, he didn’t stop.
Your body thrashed, your hands pushing weakly at his shoulders, but Chris was stronger, more determined, his grip unrelenting.
“Look at you,” he murmured against your soaked folds, voice dark and filled with something dangerous. His fingers slowed, but only slightly, pressing deep, grinding against that sweet spot inside you. His tongue flicked over your oversensitive clit, teasing, taunting.
“You wanted my attention,” he mused, watching the way your body twitched beneath him, the way your thighs trembled, barely able to stay open. “Now you’ve got it.”
You sobbed, your whole body shuddering, overstimulation tearing through you like fire. “Daddy—please—”
Chris groaned, his cock straining painfully against his sweatpants. “Shit, baby,” he muttered, voice strained. “You crying?” His fingers traced over the wet tracks down your cheeks, eyes darkening. “That good, huh?”
You could barely think, barely breathe—and Chris looked like he was barely holding himself together.
It hit you like a thunderclap—shattering, consuming, a pleasure so intense it almost hurt. Chris groaned, lapping up every drop, working you through it even as you trembled beneath him.
Only then did he pull away, lips slick and curved into something dark and satisfied. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gaze locked on your wrecked form—your twitching thighs, your heaving chest, the way your body still shook from the aftershocks.
“Look at you,” he mused, dragging his hands up your legs. “So fucking messy already. And we’re just getting started.”
You barely had a second to breathe before he was tugging his shirt over his head, muscles flexing in the dim light. He undid his belt slowly, deliberately, watching the way your eyes followed the movement with rapt attention.
Chris chuckled. “That desperate for my cock, huh?”
You whimpered, nodding, your thighs still trembling.
Chris reached out, his hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown, his expression something raw and hungry.
“You wanted Daddy’s attention?” he murmured, leaning in, lips brushing yours but not quite touching. “Now you’re gonna take everything I give you.”
Your breath hitched. “Please.”
Chris groaned, his forehead dropping against yours for a beat. Then, his fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.
“You’re gonna let me fuck you as deep as I want.” His voice was low, almost dangerous. “Gonna let me fill you up—fuck my come so deep you’ll still be dripping with it in the morning.”
Your whole body shuddered.
You nodded frantically, every nerve in your body on fire. “Yes, Daddy, please—”
He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, fisting your hair as he dragged your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, blown wide with lust, his jaw clenched tight.
Chris smirked, sensing your reaction. He reached between you, stroking himself slow, teasing. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He tapped his cock against your swollen clit, making you jolt. “Gonna take me like a good little breeding toy?”
You nearly whimpered. “Yes—yes, Daddy—”
Chris didn’t give you a chance to brace. He pushed inside in one long, slow thrust, stretching you open around his cock.
Your back arched. The stretch was unbearable, too much, even with all the prep, but Chris just groaned, pressing deeper, inch by inch, watching your face contort with pleasure.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, pressing a hand to your lower belly. “Feel that? Feel how deep Daddy is?”
You did. He was there, pressing into something devastating, making your walls flutter around him.
Chris cursed, his hand squeezing your waist before he snapped his hips forward.
You cried out.
Chris groaned, watching the way you took him, how your body clenched and trembled. “Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with something dangerously close to affection. “So fucking good for me, baby.”
His thrusts picked up—hard, relentless, brutal. Your body rocked beneath him, every drag of his cock sending another sharp spike of pleasure through your nerves.
Chris’s grip tightened, his breath ragged. “You’re gonna take every drop, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so full, gonna make sure it sticks.”
A wrecked sob left your lips, your hips rolling back instinctively, desperate. “Want it—please, Daddy, I—”
Chris groaned, slamming his cock inside in one deep, brutal thrust.
Your mouth fell open, your fingers digging into the sheets, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. Chris didn’t stop. He set a relentless pace, fucking into you deep, his hands gripping your waist so tight you were sure you’d feel it tomorrow.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, watching the way your body took him, watching how your slick coated his cock every time he pulled out. “You were made for this, you know that?” His fingers slid to your stomach, pressing down, making you feel every inch of him inside you. “Made to take my cock—made to be bred.”
You clenched around him, and Chris groaned, his thrusts turning rougher, more desperate. His fingers slid lower, rubbing your swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.
“You’d look so fucking pretty, baby,” he murmured, his pace never faltering. “So round, so full of me.” He pushed in deeper, making sure you felt every inch, making sure you knew exactly what he wanted. “Gonna keep you like this, keep you stuffed with my come, fuck you full every night until you’re dripping—”
The words sent you spiraling. Your whole body locked up, pleasure crashing into you so fast, so intense, you could barely breathe. Your walls clenched around him, milking his cock, your release spilling down your thighs, making a mess between you.
Chris groaned, shoving himself as deep as he could go, holding himself there, letting you ride out the aftershocks. His fingers dug into your hips, his cock throbbing inside you, so fucking close, so desperate.
And then he was flipping you over again, manhandling you like you weighed nothing, pinning you beneath him.
“You’re not done yet, baby,” he murmured, gripping his cock, rubbing the tip through your soaked folds, smearing your release everywhere. “I’m not done.”
You barely had a second to brace yourself before he was pushing back inside, slow and deep, stretching you all over again. You mewled, pleasure so overwhelming it bordered on too much—but Chris just cooed, brushing your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your jaw.
“You can take it, princess,” he whispered, rolling his hips, grinding so deep it made you see stars. “Gonna fill you up, yeah? Gonna fuck my come so deep it stays inside you?”
You whined, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. “Please—”
Chris groaned, something wrecked and raw, his thrusts turning messy, erratic. “Yeah? Want Daddy to fill you up? Want me to breed this pretty little pussy?”
Your entire body clenched, and Chris cursed, his cock pulsing inside you, right on the edge.
“Fuck—” His forehead dropped to yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Gonna come inside you, baby. Gonna make you mine.”
His hips snapped forward, his grip tightening—and then he was gone, his whole body tensing as he came with a wrecked moan, spilling inside you, so deep, so much. His cock throbbed, thick ropes of come filling you, making you feel impossibly full.
For a moment, all you could do was exist in it—the heat, the weight of him, the unbearable fullness that made you feel stretched, stuffed, ruined. Chris groaned low, his body twitching against yours as he gave you everything, pushing himself as deep as he could go, holding himself there like he could carve himself into you, like he could make it stay.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, voice thick and wrecked, forehead pressing against yours. His breath fanned across your lips, his nose brushing against yours as he swallowed hard. “Took me so fucking well. So perfect.”
You barely had the strength to answer, your body too wrung out, too wrecked from the relentless waves of pleasure. Your walls clenched weakly around him, still pulsing, still trembling, and Chris groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.
Then, slowly—reluctantly—he pulled out, hissing at the way your walls fluttered around him, still desperate to keep him inside. A wrecked sound left him when he saw the mess between your legs, his come already spilling out of you, sliding down the curve of your ass, pooling onto the sheets.
His jaw tightened. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding them open as he watched the way you leaked, completely spent, completely his.
“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp curls. “Look at that.”
You barely had the strength to move, your thighs still shaking, your mind hazy, floating somewhere between exhaustion and bliss. Chris kissed your temple, whispering something you couldn’t quite make out, something sweet and soothing as he gently eased you onto your side, gathering you up into his arms. His hands rubbed up and down your back, slow, tender, the complete opposite of how he’d just been fucking you.
“Deep breaths, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing over your sweaty forehead. “There you go. You with me?”
You made a small noise, barely more than a whimper, pressing your face into his chest. Chris chuckled, though it was quiet, full of warmth.
“Too fucked out to talk?” he teased, his fingers slipping into your hair, massaging at your scalp. “My poor baby.”
You whined, and he cooed, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your cheeks, every bit of skin he could reach. “S’too much,” you mumbled, voice slurred, wrecked.
Chris grinned against your cheek, his hand smoothing down your back. “You love it,” he whispered, nuzzling against you. “Love being full of me, don’t you?”
You whimpered, your body shivering despite the warmth of his embrace. Chris hummed, something dark and pleased curling in his chest. His fingers trailed down, over your stomach, rubbing softly, soothingly. He groaned, knowing his come was still inside you, knowing how full you must feel.
“Good,” he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to your shoulder. “So good for me, princess.”
"Let me clean you up," he murmured after a moment, shifting like he was about to move.
But as soon as he tried to pull away, you whimpered, clutching at him weakly. Chris immediately stopped, his expression softening. "Oh, baby," he crooned, kissing the bridge of your nose. "You want Daddy to hold you, huh?"
You nodded, too exhausted for words.
His arms tightened around you, pressing you fully against him. "Okay, sweetheart," he whispered, tucking the blanket over both of you. "M'not going anywhere."
He kissed your temple, his fingers still trailing up and down your skin, featherlight, absentminded.
“So pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with something soft, something impossibly tender. “My pretty girl.”
You sighed, barely conscious, barely awake, and Chris chuckled, shifting just enough to reach for the wet wipes on the nightstand. He moved carefully, gently, wiping away the mess between your thighs, murmuring quiet reassurances against your skin.
But when he pulled back, his gaze landed on your entrance again—still puffy, still stretched from him, still leaking his come despite how much he’d given you.
Chris groaned, his jaw clenching, something dark flickering behind his softened gaze.
“Fuck,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. He was trying—really trying—to let it go. To let you rest.
But then his fingers were there, brushing over your swollen folds, pushing in just enough to spread the mess, to watch the way your body twitched in response. You whimpered, barely coherent, shifting weakly beneath him.
Chris exhaled sharply.
“Gotta make sure it stays, baby,” he murmured, almost apologetic, pressing two fingers inside, slow, deep, watching the way your walls fluttered around them, sucking them in, so perfectly pliant.
You whimpered, half-asleep, but didn’t stop him.
Chris swallowed hard, his cock twitching all over again.
Maybe he’d have to make sure again in the morning.
#stray kids smut#skz smut#bang chan smut#bangchan smut#bang chan x reader#bangchan x reader#bangchan x you#bang chan x you#bangchan fan fiction#bang chan fanfiction#bang chan x reader smut#bangchan hard hours#bangchan fic#bang chan fic#skz x reader#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#stray kids x reader#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#bangchan hard thoughts#stray kids#skz#bang chan#bangchan#bang chan stray kids#stay kids bang chan#kpop smut
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18+ Minors dni. I'm currently obsessed with the thought of Bucky making his pretty girl take it. I'm talking him keeping you caged under him with your legs wrapped around his waist while his arm are wrapped tightly around your body. This type of energy comes out when he's pissed. Stressed. Jealous. He's going to remind you exactly who you belong to and my favourite thing about this is imagine you didn't even know what happened. Maybe he overheard some agents talking about how irresistible you are. So cute and pretty and they'd give anything to-
Nope. The thought alone of anytone touching what's his has him storming off, hauling you over to mark you in the most primal way possible. Remind everyone who you belong to. He plucks you up from whatever you're doing and carries you over his shoulder like a beast; you're naked on his bed seconds later. He plows into you, hips slamming his cock into your very soaked cunt, unapologetically fucking you with the deepest moans. He sounds so feral. He is feral.
"Feels-so-good, such a good girl, letting me put my big dick in you"
Those grunts and groans he lets out show just how selfish he's being because he's focused on how fucking good you're making his dick feel. You're so soft but you make his cock so hard. You're such an angel for him, spreading your legs for him the second he set you down. He'd been torn between wanting to ravish you immediately or taking a second to throw his clothes off. He decides he needs you to fucking smell like him when this is all over, have every bit of his scent covering your skin. He wants to feel every bit of you all over him.
No one else would ever get to have you like this. Feel your naked breasts on their chest. Feel your soft tummy press against theirs. Feel the plushness of your thighs squeezing their waist. Feel your silky walls squeeze and milk their cocks till they're all soft and sensitive.
They'd hear you though.
They'd hear every moan and Bucky would make sure of that.
"Whose cock is making you scream baby, tell me" He growls, your combined arousal making a mess on the bed.
"Y-OURS-" You hiccup, choking back a sob as he snakes his had to wrap around your throat. Damn right. His fucking cock. His dick in your pussy. Not the stupid little boys who think they have a chance to even breathe the same air. His pretty, pink, fat fucking cock destroying you to his heart's content, stretching you open as much as he wants. "J-JAMES"
"That's right, say my name baby, say the name of your man who fucks you this good, let everyone hear" He's already turned off all the sound proofing and maybe he left his door a crack open. Maybe.
"Jaamesss" You sound so gone, cockdrunk over the way the spongy head of his dick kisses that sensitive spot that makes you squirt cream with each of his thrusts. "Don't st-stop, please-fuck-me-Jamie" Your voices slurs and turns into a whine as your eyes roll back. For such a sweet princess, you sound like an absolute slut when he's inside you and he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Mhphhm, sound so pretty, gonna make me blow, let me empty my balls in you" He starts to fuck you faster causing the headboard to shake, the whole bed creaking with his movements. "M'gonna cum angel-oh shittt-"
He nearly whimpers when he feels your doe eyes looking up at him with your ankles locked around his waist; he knows exactly what that means.
"You want it inside you huh, want my cum in you baby, s'that it?"
"Want-it-please, can't hold it" you cling onto him tighter and Bucky can't last any longer.
"Cum with me, together, c'mon angel, cum with me, yes, fuck yes, can feel you-fuck-" He begs, needing those little boys who spoke about you to hear exactly what they're missing out on, "OH GOD, FUCKKK" He doesn't hold back as he gives into his orgasm, your name dripping of his lips while you sob and squeal.
I want him to give you the softest aftercare. Tell you what a good girl you were for him. How much he loves and adores you, how special you are to him.
I want him to have the most smug expression on his face when he goes back down. He's such a little shit. He passes by a cackling Tony and a wheezing Sam. Not one agent dares look him in the eye. Steve may be blushing but he'll give credit where credit is due. His best friend sent a very clear message. Bucky is a possessive, loving, horny little shit and I need it.
Need it now.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x smut#bucky x fluff#bucky x you#bucky x f reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female yn#marvel smut#marvel#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fan fiction
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roommates | E. W | 18+
| your first time with a girl and ellie talks you through it |
you and ellie were strictly roommates. you both acknowledge each other presence of course, but you both never really. had much of a convo.
you were popular, a social butterfly. you made three new friends just from orientation alone. ellie had one friend, and it was more of a class friend than a real one. and she was fine with that. her real friends were back home anyways.
the issues came up when you would come back to the dorm Friday nights, drunk and half naked.
ellie was always a night owl, going to bed 3 hours before she had her first class. it was a bad habit, she knew. but the pros of said habit meant being used by you.
your sexuality was something your questioned often, and ever since rooming with ellie, youve thought much longer and much harder. while yes you both never spoke, you both had sexual tension that was hard to deny.
it first started when you had came home drunk from another party on campus. your usual routine was to undress and fall into bed. but this night, you decided to question the girl. you saw how she looked at you, at your lips your chest. she was visibly nervous and it made you feel good.
you don’t remember how exactly, mostly from the alcohol, but you remember straddling her lap, and making out. her hands gripped your hips, grinding you on her. you may have came in your pants from that, you don’t remember. but you remember neither of you really spoke about it the next morning, despite you waking up in her arms.
it was a drunken mistake, you told yourself. you weren’t sure if you even liked girls like that.
but for ellie it wasn’t a mistake, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. in fact, she promised every friday night to stay up late again, hoping for another makeout sesh.
but the more these moments happened, the more clothes came off. which, is how you both ended up in this current situation.
she laid below you, coaching you how to fuck yourself against her cunt. “just l-like that.. put your arm here..” she’d pant, taking your hand and placing it on of her shoulder. her other hand pressed on the lower of your back, helping in guiding your movements.
you’d never done anything like this before, you were shy and embarrassed. but ellie was nothing but patient with you, praising you for doing so well. “a-already so close..” you’d whine, not even a good two minuets in before you felt your stomach twist.
her lips would form a smile. not to make you feel embarrassed even more, but because it was cute. everything about this was cute.
your eyes were so big, and dilated. your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, face sweaty. you were trying so hard to please her and do the right things. it was an ego boost to her really. getting the popular girl to submit to her like this, and nobody know.
“your pussy is so wet babe.. bet nobody else gets you like this huh?” her green eyes piercing into you. watching how your body began to shake above her. “so pathetic.. you cum so quick.” she pouted, looking down to watch as your hips desperately rutted against her, not even wanting to wait and drag your orgasm out.
“f-feel s’good.. i’m gonna cum.” you cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. your body was so sweaty at this point, so tired. if ellie hadn’t know that this was your first time with a girl, she’d probably be mocking you in her head. but instead, she found it cute how you used her body like this.
“go ahead cum babe.. i got you.” she’d coo, watching how your body came completely undone above her. and she wasn’t too far after, pushing her head into the pillow, letting out a pathetic string of whimpers, maybe even your name slipping out. but she used your drunk ness to her advantage, calling you crazy when you’d ask the next day.
she wouldn’t stop there though. after giving you a second, rubbing your back and pressing soft kissed to your head, she’d turn you over on your back, testing between your legs. “what a mess..” she’d mumble, rubbing her finger throufh your folds, collecting your cum.
she’s hum as her fingers touched her tongue, a faint sweetness to you cum making her want more. her tongue cleaned up all that mess, just to have you make a bigger one!
ellie had you right where she wanted you, and she wasn’t gonna make this a short lived experience. she wanted you to remember the best sex youve ever had being with her, regardless on if you took her serious after this or not.
“you taste so good.. wanna eat this pussy till you fall asleep.” she mumbled, sucking your clit. your eyes were rolled back, mouth ajar. your arms folded over your eyes as you let the feeling of her tongue take over your body. “y-you’re so good ellie.. please d..please don’t stop.” you’d beg, feeling your second orgasm building up. “i’m not baby don’t worry.. gonna make you cum just for me.”
safe to say you and ellie did in fact, finally have a conversation about the previous night the next morning. in fact, you both had a date that upcoming weekend, and ellie was determined to be your first girlfriend.
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Winner Takes It All
In which a family of detective's notice a suspiciously lucky trend when it comes to Jason's girlfriend.
Jason Todd x fem reader, no use of Y/N
All fluff, mostly slice of life, based of WFA for this one.
Enjoy this one! The next post is angst 😈🙏🔥
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“You’re not gonna win. You never do.” Dick says, elbowing Tim as they play against each other in Mario Kart, after finishing a long case.
“Stop elbowing me!” Tim kicks at him, and it isn’t long before they’re trying to multitask kicking each other while playing.
“You’re both children.” Jason says as he walks in, with a raised brow at the two men, they glare back at him, and see you walking in behind him.
“This is pretty on par.” You say, shrugging it off, not nearly as disappointed with the two as Jason is.
Jason just rolls his eyes at them, giving you a shoulder squeeze as he goes to the library to grab what he came here for. Meanwhile, you lean on the back of the couch, watching the two play.
Dick addresses you in the middle of kicking Tim while trying to button smash at the same time, “Tell him I’m gonna win, obviously.”
You hum in thought. “Who’s playing as Rosalina?”
“Me!” Tim says, kneeing Dick again.
“Oh, well obviously I have to be on Tim’s side. Rosalina is the best character.” You nod, maybe your choice was purely for aesthetics but– its Princess Rosalina.
“What?!” Dick exclaims, and Tim laughs.
“She knows what she's talking about!” Tim says, pushing Dick’s leg off of him.
Dick rolls his eyes. “No, Toad is the best. And that’s why I’m gonna win–”
“I won.” Tim interrupts.
Dick stares at the screen slack jawed.
Jason walks back in, looks at the screen, looks at Dick, and then shrugs as he motions to you that he’s ready to leave.
Dick finally manages to glare at Tim five minutes later. “You got lucky! It was only because she rooted for you.”
Tim snorts. “Just admit you lost, dude.”
“No way! She’s a good luck charm. When have you ever beat me in Mario Kart on this map before?”
Tim considers that.
“Huh… what do you say to a science experiment?
______________________________________________________________
“I’m telling you, it’s definitely Kite-Man. Who else would be behind something as lame as this?” Steph asks, scoffing at the idea of it being anyone else. “Plus there was a kite at the scene.”
“Yeah. Which was at the park. Kites are in parks. That's what they do.” Duke counters, taking a seat at the kitchen counter, near Jason and you, the former seemed to show no interest in the conversation at all, but you turned to look at them.
“What’s this all about?” You ask with a raised brow.
“Someone stole all the hot dog carts at the park.” Steph sighs, bored by the mundane crime. Tim glances up, intrigued, but not because of the crime.
“My bets on Kite-Man.” Tim says, nonchalant. “..What about you?” He raises a brow as he looks at you.
“Uh– I’ll side with Duke. Keeps things even.”
“Thank you!” Duke seems genuinely touched.
Tim then pulls up the case notes on his computer, and looks for the latest police update.
“Well, what do you know? Not Kite Man.” Tim grins. This was sound evidence for him. Maybe you were lucky, after all..
Steph whips her head to Tim, eyes wide. “What?! Who?”
“Condiment King.”
“Fuck. I should have guessed that!”
______________________________________________________________
Four card games between Dick and Steph, a race between Cass and Duke, and three rounds of chess between Tim and Damian later, Tim and Dick reached the conclusion that you were, in fact, good luck.
However, in a family of detectives, it didn’t take long for a majority of the others to pick up on their scheme. Or to realize you were a good luck factor.
“I’m gonna win. Obviously.” Tim declared, confidently at the dinner table as they finished up– they were having a family dinner for once, and afterwards they were going to have a round of Mario Kart… which meant the winner only had to ensure one thing.
“Fat chance!” Dick scoffs, immediately giving into his competitive spirit with that comment.
“No. I am.. You should root for me.” Tim says, suddenly addressing you now.
“Tempting— but maybe I should sit this out with Jay.” You knew how game night went with this family, and you did not want to get in the middle of that.
“Or you could root for your favorite person?” Duke buts in, smiling as he slides his dessert plate towards you as a bribe.
“He’s gonna lose.” Tim points out, pulling the plate away.
“I’m gonna kick your ass!” Duke retorts,ripping the plate away from Tim.
“No— she should root for me instead! Root for me, please!” Dick says, bringing his hands together as he begs.
You just laugh, but Jason looks completely annoyed by them now. Since when did they care who she was rooting for?
“No! She’s rooting for me—” Tim starts again, swatting at Dick as he tries to push Tim further away from you.
“If she’s truly as smart as Todd says, she’ll root for me, obviously.” Damian interjects, a proud look on his face as he crosses his arms.
Jason narrows his eyes. Okay, what was going on here?
Steph rolls her eyes. “Guys— stop it. This is all childish.”
The boys share a look, feeling a bit called out now.
Dick looks at you. “We aren’t trying to make you feel uncomfor—“
“Obviously she’s rooting for me.” Steph says, interrupting him, standing up at the table as she grabs you by the shoulders.
“Oh fuck you, you did that for dramatic effect—“ Dick slams his hands on the table.
“Like you aren’t the drama, Circus boy!”
You shake your head, deciding then would be a good time to go use the bathroom, because evidently— they would notice if you weren’t there during the actual games.
As soon as you’re out of sight, Jason turns back to everyone else.
“Okay, what the fuck is this all about?” He glares at them.
“Nothing!”
“What’s what about?”
“None of your concern, Todd.”
“Language.”
They all respond, obviously too quick and dismissive with their responses.
“…I’m gonna ask one more time.” He says, slowly, making eye contact with everyone.
“…okay, fine— she’s good luck. That’s all.” Duke says, shrugging.
That gives Jason pause.
“What?”
Tim butts in, “Anytime anyone has a game or a bet— whoever she sides with always wins. I thought it was an anomaly at first but.. it’s happened too many times to not be a trend.”
“She’s like a lucky rabbit's foot.” Steph provides, leaning back in her chair.
Jason mulls over that thought. Anytime he played Mario Kart or a card game against Roy, he *did* usually win.. he thought he was just a natural but— he only won when she was home, too. He lost when she wasn’t there.
“…maybe there’s some truth to that.” Jason admits.
“See!” Dick says, glad this didn’t end in argument but also— he noticed it first, so he felt vindicated.
“Now we shall let her pick a team.” Damian says, ready to convince her why she should root for him.
“No.” Jason says, smirking a bit as he shakes his head. “..you really thought this would change anything? She’s going to root for me— and I’ll wipe the floor with you all.”
There’s a pause as everyone stares at him in either disbelief or anger.
“..I fear we made an error.” Tim mutters.
“I’m definitely playing now. Guaranteed to win? I mean— I probably would have won anyways.” Jason brags, standing up as he’s ready to go to the living room and start these games.
“You cheater!” Steph accuses, slamming her hand down on the table.
“We were trying to do the same thing though..?” Duke adds, scratching the back of his neck.
You walk back in— raising a brow at Jason as he’s standing up.
“Eager?” You ask, smiling creeping onto your face. “I thought you didn’t want to play?”
He wraps his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the living room, you could make out his family’s argument and protests from behind you.
“Changed my mind. As long as I have you on my side, I’ll always win.” He smiles cheekily at you.
“How romantic.” You say sarcastically, raising a brow at his sudden affinity to participate in game night.
He grins at you, “And they say chivalry is dead.”
“…is this about me being a boon?” You question, side eyeing him with a soft smile.
“You knew?” He widens his eyes, pausing to look at you as you both stand in the living room door frame.
You snort. “Hard not to. They made it fairly obvious.”
“…you still gonna root for me?”
“Always.”
#jason todd x reader#dc comics#red hood x reader#batfamily#batfam#jason todd x you#jason todd#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood#jason todd imagine#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#batkids
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༊˚. HOW THEY CUM !
໒꒱. characters : mydei, anaxa & phainon.
໒꒱. warnings : gn!reader - nsfw/smut, cow girl, doggy style, feminine pet-names are used (pretty, etc.), man handling, just h*rny men in general, hair pulling, spanking and dumbification!
Mydei cums with a shuddering breath, golden eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide as his grip on your hips tightens. He’s always so teasing, so smug with that sharp grin of his, but when he’s close—when he’s buried deep inside, feeling the way you squeeze around him—his voice turns breathless, almost desperate.
He groans your name, dragging you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as he thrusts one last time, his body tensing. Then, warmth floods inside you, his breath hitching against your lips as he grits out, “Take it.” His voice is hoarse, wrecked, but there's still that edge of cocky amusement—like he knows you love the way he fills you up, how you tremble in his grasp.
And Mydei—he doesn’t stop. Even after, he stays buried in you, rolling his hips lazily, making sure you feel every last drop of his release. His lips ghost over your ear, whispering, “Messy already? Mm, don’t worry—I’ll keep going until you can’t even think about standing.”
Mydei doesn’t give you a moment to recover. He stays pressed close, his cock still buried inside, his breath warm against your ear as his hands slide down to your hips. His fingers dig in, gripping tight before he flips you over with ease—manhandling you like you weigh nothing, forcing you onto your hands and knees.
“That's better,” he murmurs, his palm smoothing over the curve of your ass before giving it a sharp slap. A pleased hum escapes him as you jolt, a whimper slipping past your lips. “You look so fucking good like this. All needy and dumb for me.”
Your thoughts feel slow, thick, clouded with nothing but the ache of wanting more. Mydei knows. He always knows. You arch your back, pressing against him, your voice trembling as you whine, “M-Mydei—mmh, want it—”
He chuckles, dark and amused, leaning in to drag his lips over your shoulder, fangs just barely scraping your skin. “Want what, sweetheart?” His hands knead your hips, thumbs digging in as he rolls his cock against you, teasing but never giving you what you need. “Use your words.”
A frustrated little noise leaves you, your head dipping forward as your fingers clutch at the sheets. Everything is too much—the heat, the pressure, the way his voice drips with amusement, like he knows you're already too fucked out to think properly.
“P-please,” you manage, your voice barely above a breathy whimper. “Need you—need your cock—”
Mydei groans, fingers tightening, nails pressing into your skin as he drags your hips back. "That’s more like it." And then he’s sinking back inside, stretching you open all over again, knocking the breath from your lungs as your arms nearly give out beneath you.
“Fuck—” Your voice comes out broken, mind slipping further into hazy pleasure, words falling apart as he sets a ruthless pace, snapping his hips forward with enough force to make you jolt. “M-Mydei—! Hh-ah—feels—”
“Feels good, huh?” He smirks, watching the way you shudder under him, how your voice turns soft and slurred, all the fight melting from your body. “Gods, you're so fucking cute when you're dumb on my cock. Just a pretty little thing, letting me fuck you stupid.”
His grip tightens, dragging you back onto him, forcing you to take it—every inch, every deep thrust that leaves you gasping, trembling. The only thing left in your head is him. His voice, his touch, the way he fills you up, stretches you out, ruins you completely.
And Mydei? He loves it. He loves watching you melt, loves turning you into his perfect, dumb little mess.
★
Anaxa cums with a deep, shuddering groan, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs, forcing your head back so he can see the blissed-out look on your face. His cock twitches inside you, buried to the hilt as he holds you down on his lap, keeping you there—keeping you full—while he spills deep inside.
“Fuck—” His breath is heavy, voice rasping against your ear as he grits his teeth, rolling his hips up in slow, shallow thrusts, dragging out every last drop of his release. His other hand is firm on your waist, holding you steady so you don’t squirm away, even as you tremble in his grasp.
“You feel that?” Anaxa’s voice is low, almost teasing, but there’s something raw underneath it, something possessive. His cum is already leaking out around his cock, but he doesn’t let you lift yourself off him, his grip tightening as he presses you down harder. “Not letting a single drop go to waste.”
You whimper, nails digging into his shoulders, legs shaking from how deep he is. But Anaxa only smirks, yanking your head back further so you meet his lidded, hungry gaze. “Mm, what’s wrong? Already too fucked-out?” His hips jerk up suddenly, forcing out a sharp, breathy cry from you.
His smirk widens. “Oh, sweetheart… we’re not done yet.”
Anaxa doesn’t give you time to recover. His grip in your hair stays firm, keeping your head tilted back as he rolls his hips again, slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of his cock inside you. His other hand slides up your waist, fingers splayed against your skin, possessive and unyielding.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement as he watches you struggle to keep up. “But you can take more, can’t you?” His hand slips from your waist to your throat, not squeezing—just resting there, just enough to make you feel how easily he could take control completely.
Your breath hitches, your hands scrambling against his chest, nails raking over his skin as he shifts beneath you, planting his feet for leverage. “A-Anaxa—”
His smirk darkens. “Good. Now ride.”
He tugs your hair, forcing you forward until your lips nearly brush his, making sure you see the way his eyes burn with hunger. You whimper, your body moving on instinct, rolling your hips over him, dragging his cock in and out at a slow, teasing pace. But it’s not enough—not for him.
Anaxa growls, both hands snapping to your waist, and suddenly you’re lifted and slammed back down onto his cock, the force of it knocking a broken, helpless moan from your lips. “That’s it—fuck, that’s it,” he groans, tilting his head back as he watches you bounce on his lap, completely at his mercy.
His grip tightens, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he takes control, dragging you up only to fuck you back down onto him, using your body to chase his own pleasure. Your thighs burn, your mind going hazy with every deep, ruthless thrust.
“You’re such a fucking mess,” Anaxa rasps, voice thick with desire as he feels your walls clench around him, as he watches your eyes glaze over, lips parted, words reduced to broken whimpers. “Dumb little thing—just a cock-drunk mess, letting me use you how I want.”
His pace turns brutal, slamming up into you with enough force to make you jolt in his grasp, a choked-out sob leaving your throat as pleasure builds, tight and unbearable. His name spills from your lips in a breathless plea, your body trembling as he yanks your head back again, forcing your gaze to meet his.
“Gonna cum again?” His smirk is sharp, knowing. “Go on, sweetheart. Cum on my cock—milk every fucking drop out of me.”
And the moment you do, he groans low in his throat, slamming you down onto him one last time, holding you there as his cock pulses, filling you up all over again. His breath is heavy, ragged, his fingers still tight in your hair as he forces your lips to his, kissing you slow and deep as his cum leaks out around him.
But even as you tremble in his hold, Anaxa doesn’t let go. Doesn’t let you move.
☆
Phainon cums with a sharp, ragged breath, his composure finally breaking as his grip on your hips tightens. He always tries to stay in control, to keep that teasing, knowing smirk on his lips—but when he’s buried deep inside you, when your body clenches around his cock just right, he falters.
His head tilts back, blue hair falling messily over his face as his hips jerk forward one last time, pressing you flush against him as he spills inside. A quiet, breathless chuckle escapes him, like he’s half-amused, half-drunk on pleasure. “Mmh… look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough as he pulls you closer, rolling his hips in slow, lazy movements to make sure you take everything. “So good for me. So—hah—fucking perfect.”
Even as his breathing evens out, Phainon doesn’t pull away. He stays pressed against you, enjoying the warmth, the way your body trembles slightly in his grasp. His fingers trace lazy circles against your skin, his lips ghosting over your temple.
“Don’t think we’re finished, sweetheart,” he purrs, amusement laced in his voice. “I need to see you fall apart for me a few more times.”
Phainon doesn’t give you a chance to recover. His hands stay firm on your waist, keeping you pressed against him as he rolls his hips, still buried deep inside you. His cock is still hard, still throbbing, and you can feel the warmth of his cum inside, slick and messy.
You whimper, legs shaking from the overstimulation, but he only chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “Sensitive already?” His voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a sharp edge to it—the same smugness he always carries, but now tinged with hunger.
His fingers ghost over your lower back before gripping tight, keeping you exactly where he wants you. “You can take it,” he purrs, tilting his head to press a lazy kiss against your temple. “After all… you were begging for it just a moment ago.”
He thrusts up suddenly, forcing a broken moan from your lips. His smirk widens. “That’s it. Let me hear you.”
The heat inside you coils tight again, overwhelming, your mind slipping further into hazy pleasure. Phainon watches you with half-lidded eyes, drinking in every little tremble, every desperate noise.
“You’re such a mess,” he hums, dragging his lips along your jaw, his voice a low murmur. “All fucked-out and pretty for me. Think you can last a little longer, sweetheart?”
His grip tightens, and he smirks against your skin. “Let’s find out.”
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$$$ chris sturniolo, BLURB
▶︎ now playing: p-power (feat. drake) gunna
chris started feeling more like a man the moment he started messing with you. but when he ate your pussy? that was a whole different story.
because the first time he put his mouth on you—spit hot against your clit, tongue slow and heavy in its strokes—he knew nothing was gonna top it. not a high, not a check, not a single win in his fucking life.
and now? now he lives for it.
tongue deep, nose buried in the mess between your legs, chris is gone. lost in the way your thighs shake, how you push at his head like you don’t know by now that he likes that. that it makes him groan, makes him eat you up even nastier, makes him grip your thighs and keep you still while he devours you.
“mm—fuck,” he groans against you, voice muffled, lips dragging all over that pretty pussy like he tryna drown in it. like he tryna prove something. and maybe he is. maybe he needs to.
ever since he started fucking with you, his scruff been coming in thicker. fuller. way more apparent than before.
and you both knows what that mean.
he grins against your skin, lets his mustache drag along your inner thigh before he kisses back up, sucking on your clit, slipping two fingers in deep just to feel you squeeze.
“got me lookin grown, huh?” he mumbles, voice all raspy and cocky, thick fingers curling just right inside you. he looks up at you, eyes low, fucked out, and his jaw flexes as he licks up the wetness dripping from his lips. “all this,” he presses a kiss to your swollen pussy, groans when you twitch. “this all you, ma.”
he flicks his tongue again, then again, then again, and you jerk—whimpering, breath stuttering, body fighting between running and melting right into his mouth. he loves it. keeps going till you cum all over his tongue, till your thighs squeeze around his head and you’re gasping his name like it’s the only one you know.
but he’s not done.
not even close.
because next thing you know, he’s got you on your stomach, hand gripping tight at your hip, dick lined up, leaking, aching, swollen.
he sinks in all at once, slow, deep, letting out a long, shaking breath as he bottoms out.
“fuck, y’feel that?” he mutters, voice thick with something you can’t even place. he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back, fingers trailing to your jaw to turn your face toward his.
he kisses you slow, deep, filthy—like he’s tryna make you taste yourself.
“take it,” he urges, hips pulling back, pushing in, making you feel every inch. “keep squeezin, baby. ‘jus’ wanna feel you.”
he damn near losing his mind in it. hips stuttering, face twisted up like he in pain, but his grip don’t let up—not even a little. just digging bruises into your waist like he trying to mold you into the bed. “god damn,” he mutters, voice cracking like he ain’t ever felt pussy before.
and maybe he hasn’t. not like this. not like you.
“feelssogood,” he damn near whimpers, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he sinks in to the hilt, buried in that tight, wet, gripping heat that got his stomach flexing with every slow pull out. then he slams back in, pulling a choked gasp from your throat. “yeah? you like that?” he taunts, but it sound weak, desperate. like he the one being fucked.
his breath is hot, damp against your skin as he pants, working his hips in that deep, slow grind that drag against every inch inside you. his thumb finds your clit, pressing lazy, heavy circles like he just tryna feel you flutter around him.
“every time,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “every time i fuck you, this shit feel better. s’like you got me in a chokehold, ma.”
you don’t even gotta say nothing. he’s already folding, already picking up the pace, already falling apart over you. his fingers slip up to your jaw, tilting your head so he can kiss you, sloppy and open-mouthed, all tongue and heat and moans that melt into yours.
hell, he was probably moaning louder than you.
yeah, your pussy got power.
© sosasturns
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo blurb#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x you#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets#sosasturns
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