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#but when he relaxes they immediately soften
calisturniolo · 24 hours
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☆ IF THE WORLD WAS ENDING I’D WANNA BE NEXT TO YOU
summary. . . cute things matt does in a relationship
warnings. . . mentions of slight insecurity
a/n. . . i was on the plane and thought of this so wrote it down in my notes app and im now writing it while waiting on my second plane and this song has been stuck in my head for weeks now. also i didn’t proof read this because i was rushing to get on my flight but i wanted to post it now
𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS HAS TO BE CUDDLING YOU WHILE SLEEPING, NO MATTER WHAT.
you finish your small skincare routine and put on your pyjamas before climbing into matt’s cozy bed, snuggling into the covers as you get tucked up under them.
matt follows right behind you, climbing into the warm bed. he immediately pulls you flush against him, wrapping his strong arms around your waist with his chest to your back.
you let out a content sigh as you feel his body relax into yours, you place your hands over his hand that is draped over your exposed stomach.
he nuzzles his head into your neck and lets out an equally content sound, his breath warm against your skin. his arms wrap even tighter around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
“you just gotta be cuddling me, don’t ya?” you giggle out as you close your eyes, trying to fall into a deep sleep.
matt chuckles lightly against your shoulder, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. he pulls you even closer to him, his warm chest pressing firmly against your back.
“mhm you know it” he whispers out, leaving a kiss on your neck.
𝜗𝜚 HE ALWAYS WANTS TO LISTEN TO YOU, EVEN WHEN YOU THINK YOURE TALKING TOO MUCH
you had been talking matt’s ear off for the past hour about someone in your college — you didn’t even think about how bored matt must be, listening to you talking about the same topic for over an hour.
“then she said to me-“ you stop yourself as you check the time and realise how much you had spoke, you looked up at matt and saw he still had the same smile of adoration sitting on his face as he did an hour ago, “did i ramble on again…sorry” you awkwardly say, scratching the back of your neck.
matt chuckled softly at your comment, his eyes sparkling with love as he looked at you. he took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing circles against the back of your hand.
“don’t be sorry” he said with a warm smile, “i could listen to you talk for hours.”
a huge smile came onto your face at matt’s sweet compliment but insecurity quickly taking over you, “you sure… you sure i’m not talking your ears off? i know i yap on and on all the time… but you’re sure?” you ask with a hint of insecurity in your voice.
matt’s heart softened at the hint of insecurity in your voice. he gently pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as you laid on his shoulder in a comforting embrace.
“i’m absolutely sure.” he reassured you, his voice firm yet tender. “i love hearing about your day, about things you love, about anything and everything. it’s a part of who you are, and i love every bit of it.” he gave you a gentle squeeze before leaning forward to look into your eyes with complete sincerity.
𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS SURPRISES YOU WITH FLOWERS
he knows they’re your favourite and always makes sure to pick out the prettiest bunch. he gives you them before dates too, just so he can admire the way your face lights up when he gives you them.
at the moment, matt was out with nick and chris at a meeting. you were bored so you texted him just to see what he was up too.
| hey baby! where are youuuu? also see if you pass gas station on your way home could you pleaseee get me a blue slurpee????
you pressed send and waited for a reply. you weren’t expecting a reply straight away since he was at a meeting.
matt sees his phone light up with a text notification — once he saw it was from you, a smile lit up his face. the meeting he was just in was boring, your simple check-up made him feel better.
| heyyy we’re just leaving, don’t worry i’ll get you aslurpee. see you soon, i love you
matt sets his phone down in the cup holder after hitting send on his text. his attention goes back to the road as he turns in at 7-eleven to get you a slurpee and flowers.
he walks into the gas station and picks up a bunch of baby breaths and tulips for you, he then gets your blue slurpee, before he leaves he grabs a few bags of your favourite candies and paying, walking out the store and back to his car.
he hands the flowers over to chris and the bags of candies, sitting the slushie in the cup holder before driving off back home. he’s excited to get home and see the look on your face when he gives you the flowers.
he walks inside his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot as he has flowers and candy in one hand and the slurpee in the other, “hey baby, i’m back” he says walking to the desk and putting all the things he bought at the store down.
“oh my god… hey, you’re back” you say, putting down your phone and getting off his bed as you walk into his open arms.
he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he can’t help but bury his face against your neck, leaving light kisses there.
you felt shivers down your spine as he left kisses on your skin, “how was your meeting?” you asked.
“boring” he mumbled against your neck, still peppering light kisses there, “i missed you” he added quietly, nuzzling closer.
you let out a small giggle but your heart swelled at his comment, “matt, baby, you saw me before you left this morning” you said pulling back from him.
“i know… also i got you a present.” he said walking back over to the desk and picking up the flowers and your slurpee.
your eyes light up as you see the bunch of flowers in his hand and the blue slushy, “matt..they’re beautiful. thank you so much, i love you” you say as he holds the flowers out for you with a smile.
you take hold of the flowers, you admire them with the cheesiest smile on your face.
matt loved buying you flowers, it was his favourite thing to do.
𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS TAKING PHOTOS OF YOU WHEN YOURE NOT LOOKING BECAUSE HE THINKS YOU LOOK SO CUTE
you and matt are sat on the sofa, a little space between you two. you were sitting with your knees up as your phone leaned against your thigh, your hoodie pulled up to your chin. you were scrolling on pinterest and adding photos to your boards, you were in your own little world until you heard matt let out a giggle.
you looked over at him as he looked over at you before talking, “look at this cute picture i took of you when you weren’t looking! it’s so cute, you’re adorable” matt gushed with a smile over his face as he turns his phone towards you to show you the photo.
you squint your eyes slightly to get a better look at the photo but when you get a full view of it, your face turns to a deadpan expression. you don’t see the cuteness matt was talking about, all you saw were flaws.
your messy hair, the unflattering angle, your glasses sitting lob sided on your nose, your bare face with no makeup, and the big pimple on your forehead.
“dude. be so for real, that photo is fucking horrible” you say leaning back to your original position but still looking at matt as he turns his phone back round and admiring the photo.
he playfully kicks your leg with his foot as he giggles, “hey! i thought you looked really cute in this picture, why’re you so negative?” he tilted his head, a curious look in his eyes.
you squinted your eyes and quirked an eyebrow at his reply but you felt butterflies in your stomach as he still complimented you, “no matt! look at my hair, it’s a mess, you can see my double chin, my glasses are lop sided, and look at that fat pimple on my forehead! and i have no makeup on. i actually feel disgusted looking at that right now”
he rolls his eyes, “okay fine, your hair isn’t perfect. your glasses are slightly lop sided, i didn’t even notice the pimple and you look amazing without makeup! why would you be so disgusted at the picture you? you look so cute in it.” he glances between the picture and your face, genuinely not understanding what’s so bad about it.
you jokingly roll your eyes at his obliviousness, “it’s ugly as shit, i just look bad. that’s why im disgusted.” you giggled out.
matt sighs. he doesn’t believe you for a second, “i’ve seriously never thought you looked bad! you’re so pretty, and this picture does not change it one bit” he grins and pokes your cheek and moves your glasses up your nose slightly, “it’s a cute picture and you’re a cute person. get over it”
you lean your head back on the back of the sofa with a smile on your face, “fine, i give up. you win.” you say leaning your head on his shoulder, he leans his head to the side and kiss your forehead.
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pajarinwrites · 2 days
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中秋节 | Wen Junhui x Reader
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➳ fem!reader x jun
➳ wc: 6.1k
➳ TAGS: idol!au, established relationship
➳ WARNINGS: omg um, cunnilingus, jun is a SIMP, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it, my dudes), praise, just general adorable lovey dovey softness, but like medium rough sex? ig, not really rough?, i never know how to write warnings, just like i don't know how to write smut woops sorry
➳ AN: HAPPY MID AUTUMN FESTIVAL BITCHES and 女王们; this is only moderately edited bc i actually meant to publish smt for 中秋节 last year but i didn't finish it in time so here it is now (I’m sure it’s still autumn festival somewhere in the world…)! I LOVE WEN JUNHUI
I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT I HATED THIS AHHHH i don't think i'll ever be able to write any smut in which the man isn't a simpering, whimpering, submissive, cowering, crawling, obsequious little simping piece of trash; it's just how i like my men, but i kinda wanna challenge myself some time, not this time though :P also i'm low-key proud of this smut? i used miraclewoozi as an inspiration bc their smut is literal art...
also, literally three pieces in one week??? WHO AM I??? this is more than in the entire year before combined, i fear lmao. sorry. i'm off to return to hibernate in my bog for another six months now thx bye, RIN OUT *drops mic
masterlist
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Jun stepped out of the airport into the sweltering heat, but had to find that merely knowing the weather conditions was quite different from being prepared for them. Luckily, he had left enough space in his carry-on to take off the jacket and sweater that he had needed in chilly Seoul and during the flight – airplane ACs were notoriously unpredictable. Despite this, Hong Kong never seized to amaze him with its constant warmth. At least the eternal sunshine gave him a good excuse to wear a cap and sunglasses at all times.
He flagged down a cross-border cab because, frankly, he didn’t feel like taking the crowded metro all the way home. This way he saved himself from a lot of heat, hassle, and the potential of being recognised, even if it delayed him. As expected, the traffic in the city was a nightmare and he did make it home later than strictly necessary. He paid the fee, dodging the driver’s interested gaze, and mumbling a small “mh gōi” before dashing into his building.
When he was finally standing in front of his apartment door, Jun felt ready to just lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. That was, until the door opened to reveal his parents and little brother. Immediately, his frown softened and he dropped his bags to engulf them in one enormous hug.
“I missed you guys so much,” he exclaimed to groans from his little brother and a soft smile from his mother.
This was most likely going to be the last chance he got to spend more than a day or two with them. With their world tour and his busy filming schedule just around the corner, he wouldn’t have time for months.
Jun had spent years of Zhōngqiūjié apart from them. It wasn’t easy to watch most of his members be able to visit their homes and spend Chuseok with their loved ones. Some years it was only him, Minghao, and Joshua in the dorms. But he wasn’t going to dwell on that. Not when he could finally hold the people he loved the most in his arms. Well, most of them at any rate. He would never get used to having to choose between his biological and his chosen family.
His mother peeled herself away from him, squeezing his cheek and insisting that he had grown even more handsome over the last few weeks.  His step father clapped him on the shoulder and asked him about the flight; his brother asked if he had brought him anything cool. Unable to stop smiling for even a second, Jun assented to both questions. He was led to the living room by his mother to sit and relax after the ‘strenuous journey’, giving him a moment to fish the presents out of his luggage, handing one off to his little brother.
“Thanks, gē!” YangYang exclaimed and bounded off to his room to open it in peace. Their mother called after him, “Don’t forget to do your homework before playing! Dinner will be ready in an hour!” Jun smiled, handing his parents the other one.
“You shouldn’t have! I keep telling you we don’t need anything.”
“But I want to get you guys nice things, mā.”
She looked trapped half-way between smitten and resigned, but accepted the present gracefully. With a kiss on the top of his head she stated, “You can rest a little before I call you boys for dinner. I’m making your favourite.”
He thanked her, foregoing the idea of retiring to his room in favour of joining his mother in the kitchen. Most of the ingredients were already laid out on the counter, but when she bent down to pick up something from the bottom shelf, she gasped, “I can’t believe it! Where did all of our rice noodles go? I don’t think this is enough. And I also forgot to buy bamboo shoots earlier!”
She turned around, apologetically, and murmured about having to go to the market real quick to get some. Jun held out his hand to stop her in her tracks.
“Don’t worry, mā. I’ll go get the missing ingredients, and you can get started on the other dishes.”
“No let me go, Jun. You’ve just had a taxing flight and—“ His step-father tried to intervene.
“It’s absolutely no problem!” Jun insisted, not paying his parents’ protests any mind. He grabbed his sunglasses from the side table by the entrance and was out the door before either of them could stop him.
Jun had missed their shèqū, its homely atmosphere, the bustling of the people on the street, and hence didn’t mind the opportunity for a late-night stroll. The closest super market was just down the short road at the main square, and he stopped by quickly before continuing on his way to the live market.
There was a certain nostalgia in going to the market like this, just the way he used to with his mother when he was younger. The stalls didn’t even seem to have changed at all. There was the same group of old ladies dancing in the small park to the side, and a little further down the road, a small group of children was taking turns, performing on a gǔzhēng. Jun watched the windows of his old piano school pass by, still partially lit as students practiced inside. At the corner of the next street was the second-hand book store they had often visited, next to the pharmacy in which he used to sit on the kiddie rides for ages, singing along to jiātíng chēnghu or liǎng zhī lǎohǔ.
Still lost in nostalgia, he stopped by one of the vegetable vendors to acquire the bamboo shoots. Jun enjoyed strolling the aisles leisurely, taking a look at all the things that were being sold. As he rounded one of the displays, someone else was cutting the corner in the opposite direction. Jun barely managed to dance out of the trajectory of them, murmuring an immediate, “Sorry, are you okay?”
He pulled down his sunglasses and looked at the person in front of him in worry. They looked up, locked eyes with him and whisper-screamed, “Oh my god! Wen Junhui?”
Jun was taken aback for only a split second, which he spent worrying he had been recognised, before he could place your face. He hadn’t seen you properly in years, just another name on the long list of people he had to leave behind. The last time you had run into each other had been during Rock With You promotions, when Minghao and he had taken time for their own schedules in China. His eyes crinkled in the corners but he still didn’t dare to take off his mask.
“It’s been so long!” He said instead. You had pulled him into your arms within a second, just a quick squeeze before remembering where you were. You pulled away, pouting, “You didn’t tell me you’d be back.”
“Sorry, it slipped my mind. I also didn’t think I’d have enough time to meet you. Not properly…”
You wiggled your eyebrows, “What does that mean?” Jun blushed, making you laugh. “I’m kidding, A-Jun. But I’m glad we ran into each other. I mean, what are the odds!”
“I didn’t even know whether you still lived here,” he admitted, sheepishly. But Jun wished profoundly that you could feel how earnest he was being. You didn’t actually seem to mind his failure to alert you of his arrival, despite your history. Instead, you continued in your usual chirpy manner, “Yeah, I managed to find work close by so I could stay here. But I’m here here just for the holiday. Staying at my parents, you know.” Jun nodded, accompanying you to the register under more animated chatter.
“Do you have to get anything else?” You asked after you had stepped out the open market. He negated, returning the question.
“Me neither,” you replied, hesitating shortly before continuing, “I guess that means we’ll have to part ways again…”
The way your voice trailed off and your eyebrows knitted together made Jun reply before thinking better of it, “Actually, I think my mā can wait for these bamboo shoots a little longer…” You face lit up with such intensity and immediacy that Jun had to chuckle.
“In that case let’s take a stroll through the park. I’ve been keeping up with Seventeen obviously, but I want to hear from you, personally, how you’ve been doing.”
Falling into step beside you felt so easy. Together, you walked the same paths you did when you were teenagers, talking about everything and anything – back before he had to leave for Korea. He talked a lot about the shoots, dorm fights and misunderstandings, and how much he had missed his mother’s cooking. You winked, asking whether he hadn’t missed you at all, and he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence in reply. Instead he sputtered for a few seconds before you let him off the hook.
“It’s fine. I was joking, Jun. Oh, look!” Jun was glad for the distraction as he watched you hurry of to the pavilion down the path. If you hadn’t changed the subject he might’ve said something stupid. But when you spun around to face him under the colourful roof, with the small pond and the bamboo in the background, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t say something stupid yet.
He was sitting next to you, listening to you rant about your catty co-workers, absent boss, and the general annoyances of adulthood, unable to stop himself from grinning like an idiot at the familiarity, the ease of the whole situation. At some point he shot his mom a text to let her know that he ran into you and to eat without him. She simply replied that he should take his time, but he felt like she was secretly glad to have the two of you reconnect. Your conversations veered from family to old memories together until eventually, when the sun had set almost completely, you got up abruptly.
“I should get back. My mom wasn’t expecting me back immediately but at this point she’s probably wondering if I’ve gotten lost.” Jun nodded, getting up with you and stepping out of the pavilion. You threw one look back over your shoulder before smiling down at your shoes.
“I don’t know if you remember but… this is where you said goodbye…” Jun blinked slowly before the memory registered. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t immediately thought of the day he went to Korea, the last day he spent with you, the day he missed his chance to say so many things he had wanted to say.
“Oh,” he breathes softly, “yeah, I remember. But it’s not a very fun memory.”
Jun decides to look anywhere but you, at the trees lining the road home to his apartment building, the birds flying overhead, the children playing across the street.
“I have to agree. But I’m glad to have you back now. Even if it’s just for an afternoon.”
“Actually, you should visit tomorrow! If you want, of course. I don’t think my family would mind seeing you again after such a long time, and…”
He stops in his tracks. The two of you have reached the intersection at which your ways part. Jun turned to face you. The words were still stuck in his throat, just like all those years ago, just like every time he’s seen you since. But this time, with your hopeful eyes looking up at him, he takes a deep breath. This time will be different. He takes the leap.
“… and I’d also love to spend more time with you.”
You smile in reply, and agree to visit tomorrow. To say goodbye, you hug him again, and he feels like he’s floating all the way home. Maybe tomorrow he’ll gain the courage to tell you everything that he’s been keeping in his heart.
Their dorms were quiet, the shared living areas swallowed in darkness as Jun excited his room. He had been talking to his family via video call for the past hour or two, catching up and trying their best to celebrate Zhōngqiūjié together, even when they were physically apart. You had initially planned on joining the call, but there had been last minute plans that had kept you from it. Even though Jun understood, he had been able to help feeling a little crestfallen when you had told him about it. The two of you had made it work since he confessed to you a year ago, talking almost weekly on the phone because both his and your commitments kept you from visiting all too often. And since this year he couldn’t visit home because of the impeding comeback, he would’ve at least enjoyed talking to you on the holiday proper, instead of just during one of your regularly scheduled calls. Especially with how long it had been since he’d last seen you in person in June. To him, an eternity.
Vernon, Dokyeom, and Chan had returned to their families for the evening to celebrate Chuseok together, leaving the dorm deserted, save Jun himself. They’d all met up for lunch as a celebration before most left to go home. It was an effort by the Korean members to ease the homesickness of those that wouldn’t be able to see their families over the holiday. Seungkwan had ended up accompanying Vernon, while Joshua and Minghao decided to simply celebrate with each other, even though they hadn’t been lacking in invitations either. Jun had made the same decision. They had let him know they’d be out until the night but that he could join them at their apartment later.
Especially Dokyeom had had a hard time simply leaving Jun behind, but the older man had insisted that he was going to be fine, and that it would give him a chance to call his family in China. But coming out of his room and being greeted with a cold, dark apartment, made Jun question his decision. He sighed, contemplating for a second whether he should simply return to his room instead of feeling the hollow emptiness of their shared dorm. But before he could make a decision, the doorbell rang.
He wasn’t expecting anyone, so the sudden shrill of the bell surprised him. Maybe it was one of the members, back early. Maybe Minghao and Joshua had decided to surprise him at the apartment. But when he looked at the screen of the camera system, he was greeted with a sight wholly unexpected. His breath hitched as he looked at you, your eyes staring straight at the camera, a warm smile on your face. Jun buzzed you in, jittery with nerves as he worried you might disappear or he might wake up. You had been talking about your crazy workload and extra assignments for the past few weeks, how on earth were you here?
This has to be a dream, he thought, standing in the open door and waiting for the tell-tale ping of the elevator. When he heard it, he couldn’t even wait for you to round the corner. In slippers, he sprinted down the hallway to the lift, coming face to face with you as you were trying to heave your luggage out. Jun cast it aside, picking you up and spinning you around. He buried his face in the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume and your skin.
“How are you here?” He whispered after a good few seconds of spinning and listening to your tinkling laugh.
“Well, you know, I bought a plane ticket, went to the airport in Hong Kong, I got on a plane—“ Jun interrupted you by picking you up again, proclaiming his happiness while you insisted that he finally put you down. If he had been a better man, he might’ve listened immediately. As it stood, it took the two of you several minutes to make it the short way from the elevator to his apartment door, Jun stopping every few seconds to give you another spin or a kiss.
Once you had finally made it safely inside, he brought your luggage to his room, before returning to the shared space and staring at you in fascination. There you were, right in front of him, leaning onto the counters of his dorm’s kitchen as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“How did you know I’d be home?” He asked and you giggled, presumably at his flabbergasted expression.
“I kind of asked the members for help…”
“What? Who?”
In hindsight, he thought he should’ve expected this. There had been a curious lack of invitations extended to him this year. Especially considering that Joshua and Minghao were still invited everywhere. And, thinking about it now, the fact that the two of them had insisted on spending the evening ‘outside’ without Jun had also been more than a little suspicious.
“Almost all of them helped coordinate it, actually. They all had to be in on it to some extent.”
“When did you start planning this?” He asked, making his way over to you. One last time, he picked you up, setting you down softly on the counter. This time you let him do as he pleased without protest, choosing to answer his question instead, “Like a month ago or so. When it started becoming clear that you’d have no chance to make it home this year.” Jun hummed in response, stepping closer to stand between your legs. His arms found their place around your waist.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing deeply when he felt you wrap your arms around him. He wished you could stay like this forever, or at least for a very, very long time. You turned your head, whispering that you had brought yuèbǐng from Shenzhen with you and he nodded automatically. Mentally, he was still focused only on your presence, the fact that he got to hold you in his arms and use his thumbs to draw absentminded circles on your waist. If he hadn’t been so focused on your body, he would’ve missed the small hitch of your breath as he exhaled against the column of your throat. He smirked lightly, murmuring something along the lines of ‘we can eat them later’ before attaching his lips to the place where your shoulder and neck met. You gasped, more audibly this time as he sucked on the sensitive skin, following the line of your collarbone. You tugged at his t-shirt, whispering that you should move to his bedroom but Jun smirked against your skin, slowly pushing up your shirt. As he tossed it over your head, he whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ve got the apartment to ourselves all night.”
He smoothed his hands under your thighs, grabbing onto your plush flesh and cursing the layer of your pants for stopping him from feeling your skin. Jun pulled you closer, to the edge of the counter, so that he could finally feel you pressed to him again, making his hands wander back up. He placed them on your waist, gingerly at first, as if you were going to vanish into thin air if he didn’t handle you with enough care. He still wasn’t sure you weren’t a figment of his imagination how you were sitting in front of him, hair and clothes messy from your flight, but your eyes shining so brightly he thought you were the most ethereal being on this planet. But when you bucked your hips forward against his, all that restrain flew out the window. He slid his hands lower from your waist, relishing in every inch of skin he got to touch along the way, before he settled them on your ass, encouraging your motions even further. Your arms tightened around him, one hand finding its way into his hair, the other toying with the collar of his t-shirt before slipping downwards and below the fabric to caress his back. He groaned, moving one hand - albeit reluctantly – away from your hips to tilt your head to the side. He was overwhelmed with your nearness, the swell of your breasts pressed against him, the smell of your skin filling his senses, spreading through him, expanding into every corner of his consciousness until all he could perceive was your presence, your breath, your skin on his.
You kissed him with so much vigour that he felt light-headed, the sparkle of your eyes encapsulated him, as if he was floating in space, surrounded by innumerable stars, twinkling around him. In his weightlessness, your hands were caressing him, still. You dropped them to the hem of his t-shirt, tracing along the exposed skin there as the rhythm of your hips never faltered.
You broke away, Jun following your lips with a whine. He wasn’t yet ready to leave your cosmos, but you pressed a soft hand against his chest, tugging his shirt off. Jun, personally, would have preferred to resume kissing you breathless right away, but you had other plans. Your hands returned to his chest, covering the expanse of his pectorals, gliding over the ridge of his shoulder, caressing every centimetre of skin while tracing the muscles across his torso. Every touch left a tingling feeling, pulling him deeper and deeper into your gravitation. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his eyes screwed shut while he tried (and failed) to even out his breathing under your attentive ministrations. When your hands returned to his chest and you flicked against his nipples tentatively, his head dropped forward in defeat, colliding with your shoulder.
He was breathing more heavily than he’d like to admit, as if he really was slowly rising through the atmosphere, the air becoming thinner and thinner. His cock was painfully hard, you grinding against it deliciously with every roll of your hips. Separated by way too many layers, Jun thought dimly before tapping against your ass, signalling for you to lift your hips off the counter.
You complied easily, leaning back in a way that allowed him to strip you of your comfy leggings. He watched you shudder at the feeling of cool marble under your skin, goosebumps forming at the sensation. Reverently, he let his hands glide up and down your legs, watching you shiver again, just from his touch. He hadn’t even realised that he had lowered himself down until one of your hands grabbed for his hair and tilted his head back.
Ripped out of his reverie, Jun stared up at you, towering over him, backlit by the kitchen lights. If it hadn’t meant leaving your reach, Jun would have fallen to his knees right this second. In this light, you looked like a higher being, come to cast divine judgement on him, a final reckoning. Jun found he would have taken any verdict, as long as it meant preserving your attention. He would have obliged any command, taken any punishment with equanimity. He would have taken Prometheus’ place, if it meant he could bask in your presence for another moment. He would suffer any acrimony, any scorn, any tribulation, if it meant your gaze would continue to rest on him like this – zeroed in on his face, your expression soft with adoration. He didn’t have to fear any judgment. The only thing written on your face was love. It was mirroring his own, he was sure, from where he was pleading for you attention from between your legs. You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, your fingers tugging at his hair with purpose. He angled his head, a miniscule movement, just enough to allow him to breathe a kiss against the inside of your thigh, a fluttering promise of continuation. If you let him. You loosened your grip, and Jun took it as the invitation that it was. His path mapped over the fat of your thigh, spilling over his kitchen counters, up one leg, down the other. All the while, he didn’t break eye contact, watching your expression crackle and slip, pleasure and frustration mixing in even measures as you breathed a plea, “Qīn'ài de, you’re teasing.”
His breathing became uneven, for just a second, at the term of endearment. You didn’t need to spell out your request. He could see it in the rise and fall of your chest, the sounds sneaking their way past your lips, the shifting of your hips – almost involuntary. The vision of you before him blurred as he tried to hear the rest of your declaration over the rushing in his ears. Your legs twitched under his hands; he didn’t remember when he had moved them there. But now they were here, holding your legs apart, leaving imprints in your flesh where they pressed against you. Jun searched your face for any sign of hesitance, any doubt, but he found none. All he could find was a sense of desperation clawing its way up your throat, leaving a blooming blush in its wake.
He still continued holding your gaze when he pressed his mouth to your core, pushing his tongue against the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped a little, hands twisting in his hair, the slight pain grounding him in this moment. His hands continued kneading your flesh, wandering, in feverish haste, across every expanse of skin they could cover. Above him, you writhed and moaned, his name leaving your lips as if you were now the one praying. Your head had tilted back slightly, breaking eye contact. But Jun’s gaze never left your face, drinking in every expression as he pushed your panties to the side to gain proper access to your sopping core.
“OhmygodJun,” you breathed, head lolling to the side when his tongue swirled around your most sensitive spot. One hand moved from your ass to your core, probing at your entrance just to feel you clench around him, hear the sharp intake of your breath. You tipped backwards, resting on your elbows as his name continued to tumble off your lips into the still air of the apartment. Jun’s other hand moved upwards, taking no care in pushing your sports bra out the way to grab at your breasts, pinching your nipples intermittently. He watched your chest heave as he slipped two fingers past your entrance at once, his tongue lapping between them, desperate to taste as much of you as possible. Your hands kept pushing him closer and closer, until his every sense was filled with you. Your taste on his tongue, your panting breath in his ears, the plush feeling of your thighs around his head. He moaned against your core.
Jun felt your high approach, maybe knew it was coming before you yourself even did, the way he could read your body in this moment, with how every fibre of his being was honed in on you and your pleasure.
“Jun, bǎobèi, I’m…”
His hand slid down to your waist, squeezing reassuringly. Jun felt you constrict around his digits, your moans growing louder and more desperate. He kept pressing his fingers into that spot that had you squeeze around him, kept his mouth sucking on your clit, humming at the flavour of you, until you peaked. You came with a cry of his name that made his chest swell with pride. Your thighs shut around his head like a vice, your hand evidently torn between wanting to pull him away and push him closer. Jun remained pressed to your core, lazily lapping at your release until your legs relaxed and he gained enough freedom of movement to lean back and search for your gaze.
Even though he had spent minutes staring at the ethereal picture of you earlier, he was still taken aback by your beauty: your hair even messier, your face blushed, your eyes glazed over in the hazy afterglow. He pressed another kiss to the inside of your thigh.
“How are you feeling, my love?”
It took you a few moments to answer him, calming your breath. A moment of which he took advantage to return to his full height, leaving kisses up your body on his way there. Once he was face to face with you, he brushed your hair out of your face, looking at you with devotion. You smiled back, softly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and immediately causing a warm shiver to run down the length of his body. There you were, in his arms, gazing at him with love, bestowing him with whatever divine favour slumbered in your presence.
You leaned in closer, letting your breath ghost over his skin for a second before whispering, “I need you.”
Jun was sure he was about to malfunction. The way his body reacted instantly, unbidden, must have been proof of your power. He couldn’t suppress the groan that rose to the surface, betraying his helplessness in the face of you. But you only smiled, sliding off the counter, tossing your bra to the side, and leaning into him.
“I know you need me too, baby,” you susurrated against the shell of his ear, your hand falling to his crotch, smoothing over the outline of his cock against his sweatpants. Jun gasped when you gave his balls a squeeze, trailing your fingers back up, pressing them into his slit, already oozing with precum and staining his pants. He felt like melting, like he was Icarus and you were the sun, with the notable exception that your radiance was warm and welcoming. It didn’t burn him, it only made him feel soft, welcome, malleable. He melted at your touch, moulded himself to the shape of you.
Although Jun felt it was very much stating the obvious, he conceded, “I want you so bad.”
You smiled, discarding your panties in a swift motion, before turning around and bending over the surface.
“Then come get me.”
He only stared, transfixed by the way your muscles moved under your skin, how the warm kitchen light of his home cascaded over you, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you turned around to smirk at him. Jun’s mind was still fighting with the fact that you were real, you were here, and you were his. You cocked an eyebrow, watching him like a cat watched its supper. When he still continued to stare, your eyes darkened, beckoning him with intensity. You wiggled your ass at him, pushing it back so it grazed his throbbing dick. As you threatened to pull away again, Jun’s hands flew to your hips. You yelped at the sudden strength with which he gripped you, pulling you back against him once more, grinding down against your ass with such verve that your head dropped forward. A long groan escaped you as Jun crowded you against the counter, pushing you down and leaning over your back.
“You need me, huh?”
You nodded your head enthusiastically while meeting his thrusts, moaning his name again and again, and growing more breathless by the second. Jun wanted to tease you, he really did. He wanted to ask you how bad you needed him. He wanted to force you to be more specific, to hear you say how you needed to feel his cock inside you, hitting that spot over and over again. He wanted to make your pretty lips form all those filthy words, say his name, beg for him. But it had been months since he had seen you in person, it felt like an eternity had passed since his skin was last allowed to touch yours, a lifetime since he heard you whimper and moan and pant for him like this. So, he forewent any more teasing. Instead, Jun simply shoved his sweatpants and underwear down his legs, freeing his cock.
You whined at the sound of it hitting his abs, wiggling your ass again and breathing out his name in that way he would never grow tired of. He grinned, sliding his dick through your slick, nipping its tip against your clit, once, twice, three times. So many times that you whimpered, an indistinguishable string of supplications, whines of baby, please please please leaving your lips. Your forehead was pressed against the counter now, as if the cold, hard surface helped ground you in reality while Jun had his way with you.
When, finally, he slipped into you, both of you sighed. You voices mixing in the air of the kitchen that seemed to have been growing thinner by the second. Jun’s breathing was growing ragged, and he could tell you weren’t faring much better than him. He started moving, slowly at first, testing the waters and, yes, possibly also to rile you up a little more. But when you clenched around him, any self-control was thrown out the window. His hands on your lower back were shoving you down against the ice-cold surface, making you hiss. His hips snapping against your ass as he searched for that spot that would make you drool over the marble countertops.
“Fuck… yes! Baby, right there,” you groaned when he found it.
Jun leaned back down over you, his front pressed against your back, his hot breath by your ear, whispered prayers of your name escaping him. He drove into that spot relentlessly, repeatedly until you lost all function of speech, reduced only to swears and his name. Jun mirrored your vocabulary, one hand sneaking around your body to find your clit again and rub punishing circles. With the added stimulation of his hand, the pressure of his weight, and the way his cock was hitting that spongy part inside you again and again, you felt your pleasure crest alarmingly fast.
“Junjunjunjunjun,” you breathed, but, again, he somehow had known before you what was coming. His groans surrounded you, your perception narrowed to just the feeling and sound of him.
“Hold on a little longer, baby,” he breathed, and you barely registered it. Just nodding for the sake of nodding, praying his own release would find him fast.
“Doing so well, baby. So good for me,” he continued, almost to himself, baiting your release even more.
A few agonising, timeless moments passed until, “That’s it, let go. Come for me, baby. Come with me.”
Immediately, you released a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper, you head falling forward again as your whole body tensed up. Jun followed your example, his head dropping against your shoulder as he drove his cock into you, prolonging both of your releases as much as possible, until the sensitivity forced him to pull out. He remained folded over you, so close that he could feel his cum drip out of you, landing on the kitchen floor with a small splat. The air felt too thin for any movement, so he remained draped over you, his thumb drew circles on your lower back until you returned to him, mumbling his name.
“Are you alright, qīn'ài de?”
You nodded almost imperceptibly, your hair sticking to the nape of your neck. Jun brushed it to the side, leaving a small peck where it had been.
“Nooo,” you whined, “I’m sweaty.”
“I don’t care,” he replied, matter-of-factly, smoothing his hand down your back one last time before peeling himself off you to get some tissue. His heart tore a little at the weak whine you let out in response to his absence.
“Don’t worry, I’m just trying to take care of you.”
You only whined more when he wiped the rest of your combined release from between your legs before also cleaning the floor. He caught your eyes from over your shoulder, smiling softly, and leaving another kiss on your back. After getting rid of the tissue, he pulled you off the counter, wrapping you up in his arms.
“You were amazing. I love you.”
He could hear the smile in your voice when you replied, “So were you, bǎobèi.”
“I can’t believe you’re really here…”
“I missed you something fierce,” you said by way of explanation.
“Me too. I miss you every day. Every hour.”
To his confusion, you smiled warmly at his pout, one hand caressing along the side of his face until it came to rest on his collarbone. You leaned in, lips ghosting against his in a silent promise, “Then let’s make the most of right now.”
Jun grinned, bending down to pick you up, laughing at the surprised yelp you let out.
“What on earth are you doing, Wen Junhui!”
“I think it’s time for a bath.”
“That is not what I was trying to insinuate!”
He wiggled his eyebrows, feeling his heart sore at your scandalised expression. Resting his forehead against yours, his eyes searched for yours, holding their stare for a few moments. With a smile on his lips and in his voice he murmured, “I don’t care what exactly we do in the bath, as long as we do it together.”
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skoulsons · 2 years
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Talking about the sniper section bc it’s. My heart feels like that house.
First, BEAUTIFULLY DONE. absolutely perfect, every part of it. But rewatching, Joel never stops watching Ellie. Not for a second. He’s watching where she’s going and he’s watching behind her for infected. When she’s knocked to the ground after Joel shoots the one clicker, she spots an open window in a van. Joel is watching her and sees where she’s looking and knows exactly where she’s trying to go. You see his eyes move to the left to see the van. And she knows he’ll kill all of the infected in her way. Because she trusts him. And because he won’t let her die.
And once Ellie’s in the van, Joel’s fire ceases except for killing the ones behind it. He is only looking out for her. Anything gets close to that van, he’s there immediately. There’s a shot of him after the bloater surfaces of him just watching. Not firing, just observing the van. Watching for infected. Keeping her safe.
And then one comes up, a young girl in a BLUES CLUES SHIRT, and you see the panic immediately on his face. He goes from completely still to shaking. He fires and he misses. His reload even feels rushed. His breath is shaky, hitching even. His entire face is trembling. And then the clicker is in the car and he can’t see it anymore. He can’t protect her anymore. And it cuts again to him taking two quick, rushed, and paralyzing breaths. He adjusts his grip on the gun because his hands are sweating. And now he, much like she had to minutes prior, has to trust that she can and will get out of this, as much as he wants to be the one to save her from it
Then it cuts to Joel again when she’s outside the van.
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This is panic. Fear. This is not knowing what’s coming out of that van. If that clicker ate a hole in her neck and it’s the one escaping. The fear of not knowing her fate and if he just lost her again. Of not being able to protect her because he can’t see her through the windows of the van. The fear of so many uncertainties.
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And this is relief. His shoulders have even fallen back slightly, relaxing. When he sees she’s out and closed the door on the clicker. That she’s, in a weird, twisted way, safe again. Because he can protect her again. Because he can, and will, kill every infected in her path.
And then she’s on the ground and they can see each other again. Ellie looks over to Henry and Sam and sees them struggling under the car. She can’t leave them. She reaches for her shiv and she looks to Joel in the house.
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She’s determined. And he knows it. He can’t see them under the car, but he can guess what she’s saying. What she wants to do. What she’s asking him to do. To continue to protect her (like he’d ever stop), as dangerous and heart attack inducing as it will be for him to see her do this. And he makes a face that Pedro seems to make in every role he plays.
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This face. This face, to me, means a plethora of different things depending on his role. But in this context, it’s more of a ‘fine, I’ll do it. I’ve got you’ one. He even nods slightly. Really slightly. Deep down, he wants them safe, too. It’s dangerous down there. It’s full of infected. And he’d like nothing more than to get out of there with her in one piece. But Ellie has a big heart. She cares about Henry and Sam. And Joel knows that. He’s seen how she’s been with Sam. Laughing with him, reading with him, signing with him, playing soccer with him. How long has it been since she’s been able to do this with another kid? But Ellie’s asks him just a little more. I need to get to them. Protect me.
And he does, of course he does. He kills five(?) clickers that touch her or get in her path. And he’s no longer shaking. He’s as stable as ever in firing. He nails every single shot, killing every clicker in her way. Ellie gets to Henry and Sam, killing the clicker on Henry and stabbing the one on Sam while Joel finishes it off. And he watches for any more that come their way. And once he sees they’re in the clear, he leaves and meets up with them immediately
Main point being - protective dad Joel <3
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ohcaptains · 1 year
Text
𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐚𝐲.
pairing. simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader.
synopsis. simon comes home. he's too tired to fuck you right. eventually, he manages to find the energy.
warnings. 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy or use ai on my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving penetration, blonde simon lol, somnophilia, dry humping, pussy smacking, and crying during sex. i am not responsible for your media consumption.
an. :) life sucked so i found a new animated character to obsess over. please comment & reblog if u enjoyed !
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When Simon comes back, he’s dog-tired.
As soon as his feet touch the welcome mat of your quaint little apartment, he feels all of his muscles relax – as if they’re unpinning themselves from his bones – and he has to give himself a pep talk to muster the energy to drag his hand up to ring the bell.
But he doesn’t have to, because you’re ripping the door open – shining like the sun – and pulling him into your body, rendering all 6,4 ft and 240 pounds of the super soldier to complete mush.
For five minutes, you don’t speak. Just hold him, as you gently rub the corner of his jaw, and brush your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. He clutches you to him.
His fat, paw-like hands hold your upper back, and you hold him with the same vigour. His body – wrapped in his black compression shirt and army pants – is rock solid.
It’s a weaving of muscles that have been tensed for the last two months. It’s going to take a minute for them all to soften, but like he always does when he’s been away, Simon lets out a deep and resolute sigh.
The breath warms your neck, causing it to tingle, and you grasp him tighter, your body waking up.
It’s been a long two months.
He manages to push your intertwined bodies through the doorway, using his boot to kick the door shut. His house smells like home -- funny how you can’t smell it until you’ve been gone a while.
Vanilla and a citrus fruit, mixed with the savoury scent of his favourite meal. He hums again, and you scratch the back of his head, sending shivers down his locked spine.
He knows the route to your bedroom like the back of his hand, and he maneuvers the pair of you inside.
The curtains are closed and the bed is made. You know him. You know him so well.
You let him push you back onto the bed – a blur of familiar limbs and hair – and he settles lower, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Immediately, you drag your legs up and cross them over the curve of his ass.
You’re all warm and soft and pliable. Dressed in a pair of simple cotton shorts and a vest top, he wants to grab fistfuls of you and remind himself of how you feel in his palms. Wants to drag his lips over your skin, bully his way between your legs and remind himself of how you taste.
Fuck, he wants you, in a carnal, almost primal sort of way, and you the same. He can smell it. A sweet but sweaty longing that melts from you and causes his senses to wake.
But he’s so God damn tired.
You know. Know this routine. Know that he has to settle back in.
In the meantime, you’ll just have to wait.
You fiddle with his hair. “There’s dinner if you want it,” you whisper into the dark bedroom, looping the strands between your fingers, committing the soft feel to memory.
Simon shuffles just an inch on top of you, but still, the slight movement of his clothes and hard, clenched body against yours makes you take your bottom lip between your teeth.
It’ll be chewed raw by the time he has enough energy to take you. He grunts something into your skin, and after a second, you gather it’s, tired.
His scent clouds you.
When Simon comes back, he always smells the same.
The soap at the barracks is pine scented – shampoo a strict lemon.
But there’s always a leftover grit to him. A hidden layer the soap can’t clean off, and it makes you delirious. Makes you flex your ass up – just an inch, a sweet, gentle inch that has you feeling the hard lines of his thighs and the metal of his zipper, and Simon’s breathing hitches.
You freeze. With your hips pushed tight against his, you stare at the ceiling, hoping that your worn-out soldier hasn’t felt you move.
Simon stays quiet. His breathing settles. You go to apologise, but Simon doesn’t grumble or make a sly comment. Listening closer to his breathing, you gather that he’s asleep.
Jesus, you think, that’s a record. Barely in the door and he’s asleep, he must be burnt out. Figuring that you won’t be able to crawl from under his weight, you decide it’s your bedtime too.
Sleep comes fast.
Hours later, you blearily blink awake. Not much has changed – the room is still dark, Simon is still heavy on top of you, yet now, you’re sticking to him with sweat.
He’s usually a human furnace, but this is different.
Your skin prickles, vibrating at a frequency that has nothing to do with heat. No, this is…you feel a pulsating between your thighs, and wiggle, feeling your slick coating your underwear.
Fuck, why are you so wet? You clench, and the resulting ache forces you to hiss and push your head back against the pillows. What did you dream about? Thinking back, you come up short. Then why--
Simon shuffles on top of you. It’s a slight movement, but it continues, and all at once, your heart clenches.
Holy fuck, he’s—
“Simon?” you whisper, and your boyfriend whines into your neck.
“I’m sorry,” he wheezes, the words wet and desperate. The puzzle pieces lock into place.
He knocks his hips into your crotch once more, and you gasp, clenching, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Simon’s apology comes out again, except this time, it’s christened with a “s-shit – fuck.”
Blinking at the ceiling, you huff and try and glance down, and in the dark, you just about manage to see the outline of his burly body grinding into yours.
You take stock of the situation.
Feel his fat palm around your hip, and squinting, see that he’s got your shorts pulled down around your thighs, and has the band of your underwear looped around his fingers.
Jesus Christ. You fall back into the pillows. “How long have you?” you whisper. “Five – fuck – minutes,” Simon grunts, continuing to roll his thick hips against you. His bulge knocks the edge of your throbbing clit, causing you to gasp again. There’s been no build-up to your want, it’s just there, humming electric, and spread tight over your thighs.
Simon meshes his wet mouth against your chest. He’s tugged your vest top down, too, and his lips close around the skin of your breast. Jesus. He was undressing you as you slept.
“Thought about fuckin’ you, but couldn’t get my pants down, so – shit -- tired. Jus’ woke up and you were just so fuckin’ soft. And wet, Christ, felt you through my trousers.”
Your whole body goes numb. “You were gonna fuck me as I slept?” you whisper, belly flipping. You’d told him – ages ago – that he could, but he hasn’t been here. You’d forgotten.
The image of him pulling your underwear down as you slept streaks across your mind. Imagine waking up with him inside of you, so full and wet and just on the precipice of coming.
Simon grunts. He tugs at the band of your underwear, “I’ll fuck you right, at some point. Just –”
In your delirious state, you manage to finish his sentence, “Tired, I know – I know baby.”
You kiss the crown of his head and whimper into his hair. “Just use me until you’re ready.”
Simon groans out deep and loud. It rumbles against your chest. Echoes through your heart, and you’re so turned on that you begin fidgeting.
You try and squirm away from the stifling ache of your pussy, but Simon’s built like a brick shithouse, so you can’t run from it, just gotta take it and take it and take it, until you can’t anymore, and you break.
You’re so fucked that you don’t even announce that you’re coming, but Simon knows, shit, and as your pussy clenches up tight, he growls low and hard, mumbling, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, until his movements go sloppy, and his breathing goes laboured, and he’s coming into his pants and mewling your name.
When he finally does manage to get inside of you, he doesn’t last long. No, he pushes all the way to the hilt, and you tighten up.
“Stay” you gasp, clenching your pussy around his shaft, and Simon grunts deep and long into your throat.
“S-Stay there,” you moan, then, in case he didn’t hear you, “Stay,” you whisper, and push the ball of your palm into his thick, scarred shoulder. 
You were teetering on a knives edge.
You’ve come once since Simon was home, and your second orgasm of his return was right there.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Simon groans into the shallow of your throat, “Did we do enough prep?” 
“Yes,” you immediately whisper, not wanting him to pull out. 
He’s thick and pulsing inside of you, hard and heavy on top, and God, he kisses at your throat — soft and gentle. You try to swallow down the ball that has swelled in your throat, but tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill. 
No no no no, you think. Not now. Not now not now. You try to stifle the tears, but you unconsciously sniff, and despite Simon being perfectly still, he still manages to freeze.
“Sweetheart?”
You inhale, “Yeah?” 
Simon looks up; and seeing tears on your cheeks, his face falls, “Did I hurt you?”
You furiously wipe the tears away, shaking your head.
“M’just overwhelmed,” you whisper, and he presses his forehead against yours, going to kiss you, but the movement causes his hips to flex against you, nudging his cock, and you whine, immediately gripping onto the back of his dirty blonde locks. 
Simon drops his face into your chest and lets out a pained rasp, “Tightening around me, kid.” 
You unclench, “m’sorry.” 
“Gonna come quick.” 
“S’okay.” 
“I’ll fuck you right, just gotta…” he trails off and grabs fist fulls of your hips.
“Fuck,” he huffs wistfully, “This pussy. Missed this fucking pussy.”
You go dizzy with need. Shake your head, and bend to kiss him, tasting his wet and swollen lips. Gently, you knock your hips up into his, and when he lets out a surprised grumble, you flex your hips higher, trying to stuff his cock deeper, further – till you can see it pressing into your belly.
Catching onto your plan, Simon grunts and pushes your hips with his fat palms, pinning your ass to the mattress. 
“Stop,” he orders, and the demand goes straight to your cunt. Jesus. He hasn’t been very dominant since his return, and that little instruction has you chomping on the bit.
“Want you, Si.”
“One stroke and I’ll be fucked.” 
“Just gotta practice.” 
He chokes on a laugh, muttering, “Practice.” 
You try another tactic. Clench around his cock and pout, “Want you to come inside me.”
“Fuck,” Simon cuts. You curl your legs back his back and push your foot into the dense muscle of his ass, at the same time rocking your hips up. Simon lets you. Let’s you try and fuck yourself on his cock. With wet lips, you push your mouth into the shell of his ear, shakily uttering his name.
“Gonna fill me up, Si?”
“Fuckin’ filthy, you know that?”
Simon pulls back, and your heart stutters.
You think he’s going to pull out, until he uses your hips to pull you tight against his cock -- your ass nearly sitting on his thighs. His thick, scarred chest is puffed up.
Cheeks red, and he’s got that animal glint in his pretty eyes.
It knocks you for six.
“Where you want it?” he asks, and you’re confused, until he presses the heel of his palm into the middle of your tummy.
“Shoot my load here, huh?”
Your body goes numb. Eyes white out. It happens so suddenly that it scares you, and you’re a mixture of turned on and frightened, but the fear turns you on even more.
All you can do is blearily look up at him as he slides his paw to the other side of your tummy, “or shoot it here. Fuck it so deep that you can taste it.”
He pretends to think about it. Even hums, before he drags his palm up and stuffs his thumb into your mouth. “Or just directly here, huh?” He snarls a smile, “know you like it when your mouth is full.”
You suck at his thumb, and tighten your cunt around his cock, causing his mouth to open, and eyes to flutter, and just like that, you’ve won.
He comes in record time.
But Simon keeps his promises.
A couple of days later – on the seventh day he’s back -- he fucks you so good, that when you wake up the next morning, you get shy just thinking about it. 
Lay in bed, staring at the ceiling – your boyfriend fast asleep on your chest -- remembering the debauchery you’d gotten up to the night before. 
The pair of you are a little tipsy, drunk on beer and wine, but all it’s done is heighten your senses, and made you fully aware of your desires, so much so, that they pulsate behind your eyelids like a migraine.
Simons got you face down, ass up, and as he pushes you face first into the mattress, he presses his thumb against the tight, fluttering hole of your pussy.  
“Gonna let me inside, baby?”
You sink into your thighs and spread yourself wider for him, humming into your crossed arms. Simon watches your pussy spread further, and he can’t help himself, he has to slide his thumb deeper.
He presses, just barely pushing the tip of his thumb into your wet hole, and you gasp, trying to chase the feeling by inching back against his fat palm.  He laughs at you. “Look at your pussy sucking my thumb in, baby. Wish you could see what I’m seeing. So fuckin’ sexy.”
You hum, the words making you wetter – dripping over his thumb.
“Been dreaming of fucking you right, gonna take you whenever I want.”
“Okay,” you whisper, so delirious that you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. Simon raises a brow,
“Yeah?” he asks, tone breathless. Thought he’d get some pushback on that one, but for a second, he forgot that you said the nastiest shit with his dick inside of you.
You nod into your crossed arms, and Simon laughs again, “Free use pussy,” he sounds, then lightly smacks your sodden folds, causing you to flinch, bucking forward. 
“Oh fuck,” you choke, eyes rolling back. Heat ricochets through your crotch and swamps your belly, before settling back in your aching pussy. Once you manage to collect yourself – and it takes a second -- you huff. “Bein’ mean.”
Simon snorts, grabs your hips, then rams the underside of his cock against your pussy, grinning so big that his scars stretch, “don’t know the half of it, babe.” 
You sob, real tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Your desire is visceral, enough for you to taste it on your tongue. Simon pulls back, and your slick coats the length of his dick, earning yourself another light smack to your cunt.
“Soakin’ me,” he grunts, and you sob into the sheets. “Please,” you whisper, then, please please please, and Simon hears your breathing hitch. 
This time, instead of checking up on you, he chuckles, “Crying again, baby?”
You sniff and wipe your eyes on your wrist, face heating.
“No,” you mumble, and Simon sighs.
He reads you like a book. Always has. Always will.
“Lying to me,” he grumbles, then he steers the uncut head of his cock between your folds, whispering, “Lie to me again, and I’ll give you something to cry about,” before bottoming out in one thrust.
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bunnis-monsters · 4 months
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NSFW
You certainly love your poor himbo!vampire lover, but he’s definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed.
Like all vampires, his saliva has healing properties so his victims don’t bleed out during his feedings. Because of this, he’s taken to freaking out when you get injured and immediately licking the wound, planting a soft kiss on it after.
He smells your blood, and he gets nervous. The man adores you, he’d be lost if you died!
So when you woke up to the soft ache in your cunt being combated by the pleasure of your boyfriend sucking on your clit, you were quite confused.
As you rubbed your sleepy eyes, you heard your boyfriend choking on his sobs, tears rolling down his pale cheeks as his hands held onto your thighs.
“Y-you’re gonna be okay, angel. Going to… going to make it better…” he blubbered, your blood dripping down his chin before he moved back to your aching cunt.
“Love…”
He sniffled as you reached out a hand to cup his cheek, gently swiping your blood from his lip. “I’m not injured, I’m just on my period.”
Your lover blinked, his eyes going wide, and you could tell if he could blush his cheeks would be a bright red with embarrassment.
“O-oh…”
As he pulled away, you grabbed him by the hair and guided his lips back to your pussy. “But you’re still helping, sweet thing.”
His eyes softened and he settled back down between your thighs, his cheek resting against your belly as he softly nuzzled against it. “Then I’ll take care of you… I’ll always take care of you, my angel…”
So you sat back and relaxed as he fed, making sure to gently push you over the edge and ease your pain.
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rafecameronssl4t · 13 days
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Attention || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader
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Summary: literally tit obsessed!rafe fawning over readers boobs
Warnings: mention of birth control, swearing, slightly suggestive?
Word count: 851
MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
“He’s just so infuriating!” you vent, your voice sharp as you pull your hair into a messy bun, the motion jerky with irritation. You couldn’t sit still, pacing back and forth across the deck, your mind racing. Rafe was lounging in one of the chairs, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to your bubbling frustration.
His eyes followed you with quiet intensity, but he wasn’t as focused on your words as you wanted him to be. “He knew I was going to tell Mom and Dad about it,” you continue, voice rising. “But no, he just had to stick his nose in my business and tell them first!” You were fuming, your hands gesturing wildly as you ranted about your brother’s constant meddling.
Rafe barely responded, his gaze more intent on your figure than the content of your words. He watched the way your shoulders tensed, how your movements betrayed just how worked up you were, but he wasn’t truly listening. His mind was elsewhere, his lips twitching up into that familiar lazy smile as his eyes drifted over you.
“Rafe, baby, are you even listening?” you snap, suddenly stopping in your tracks, hands on your hips. You glared at him, expecting some kind of acknowledgment. Rafe blinked, seemingly dragged out of his own head, and lazily looked up at you, the smirk still lingering on his lips. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course I am,” he replied, his voice casual, as though you hadn’t just been spilling your frustrations.
“You want me to, uh, talk to Top? Tell me what you want me to do.” You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive move. The action, while innocent on your end, drew Rafe’s attention immediately. His eyes widened slightly, and he shifted in his seat, leaning back with his lips pursed. He watched the way you folded your arms, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits.
“I dunno,” you mutter, your anger deflating. “I’m just so mad at him. I don’t even want to speak to him right now.” Your voice softens, frustration fading into weariness as you finally give up on pacing and drop down onto the lounge chair beside Rafe. You set your eyes on the water in front of you, trying to focus on its calm surface, wishing it would somehow mirror in your emotions.
Without a word, Rafe slung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. His lips brushed the top of your head, a quiet kiss that melted some of your remaining tension. The silent comfort of his touch was enough to ease the knot of frustration in your chest. For a moment, everything felt still, his warmth grounding you.
But then, Rafe’s voice broke the silence, his tone a little too amused. “By the way,” he murmured, his voice low, “when did your tits get so big?” His hand reaching down to squeeze. Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with shock. “Rafe Cameron!” you shouted, your playful outrage breaking through the calm as you shoved him away. His laughter rang out in response, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he doubled over in amusement.
You narrow your eyes at him, though a smirk plays at the corner of your lips as his laughter fills the air. “It’s because of birth control, Rafe,” you retort, voice laced with playful sarcasm. His laughter slows, and he looks at you with raised eyebrows, the smirk fading into curiosity. “Birth control?” he echoes, clearly intrigued by where this was going.
You lean in closer, your eyes locking with his, a teasing glint in your gaze. “Yeah, because you can’t seem to pull out in time,” you say, your voice dripping with mock exasperation. Rafe’s smirk instantly returns, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leans back into the chair, draping an arm behind his head.
“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” he asks, his tone teasing but his grin growing wider. “Yes, Rafe,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a laugh as you nudge his leg with your foot. “I swear, every time—” Before you can finish, Rafe cuts you off with a low chuckle, his hand slipping behind your neck, gently pulling you closer. “Guess that’s something we’ll have to work on,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm and sending a shiver down your spine.
He tilts your chin up to look at him, his thumb brushing across your jaw, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “Or maybe I just like the idea of keeping you on birth control a little while longer.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he was looking at you. “You're impossible,” you mutter, though the softness in your voice betrays any real frustration.
Rafe only grins wider, kissing the top of your head again, this time lingering a little longer, clearly pleased with himself. “You love me for it,” he whispers against your hair, his tone teasing, but the way he holds you feels more tender, a quiet comfort that you didn’t realise you needed.
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dmitriene · 1 month
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morning intimacy with simon riley, he wakes at the early hour of dawn, either it's the military training, or his troubled mind, but you find him with his muscular back bowed down, elbows pressing in his tense thighs, palms rubbing his face from the remaining crumbs of sleep and lingering on the rough stubble on his sunken cheeks, as his inky eyes face the wall.
he doesn't hears how you rustle the sheets, his accustomed sharp focus and intense twitch at the slightest noise always stays outside the door of your house when he returns from the countless missions, so when your warm, gentle palms run over the expanse of his wide back, his muscles jump at your unexpected touch, head immediately moving to turn in your direction, and you catch the fleeting glint of worry in his eyes.
your lips press the most tender kisses against his skin, over the rough, pale scars, various scattered moles that are hard to notice against the background of bullet and knife wounds he survived, as your hands wrap around his waist, stroking across his softening stomach with your fingertips, forcing simon to relax, moving your palm from the waistband of his boxer briefs and to his chest, feeling the sharp exhale he let's out as a shudder wracks his spine.
you press your chest against simon's back, bare, there is not a single barrier between you as your rounded breasts rub against his skin, and your back aligns to bury your chin against his shoulder, peering into his eyes when his own calloused hands find yours, the width of his palms swallowing your fingers as he squeezes them and strokes across your knuckles, fluttering pale eyelashes when your gazes meet, instantly captivated by the murky flood of his dark irises.
simon exchanges this loving tenderness you give him, tilting his head aside to brush your lips together, a featherlight kiss, he moves his mouth leisurely against yours, barely opening to catch your plump lips between his chapped, squeezing your hands in his with circling thumb across your fourth finger, where the gold of your rings brush against each other.
main masterlist. quidelines.
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todorokies · 1 month
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WHEN THE LIGHTS ARE LOW - logan howlett
contents 𝝑𝑒 : fem!reader, nsfw, cockwarming, some fluff & angst (?) got mixed up in this, implied legal age-gap, grumpy old man logan (written with ‘logan 2017’ in mind but he isn’t sick), intimacy scares logan but he tries, 1.1k words
a/n 𝝑𝑒 : this is possibly ooc this is my first time writing for him please go easy on me! ,,,, inspired by the song ‘when the lights are low’ by the paragons
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“read to me, please?”
the air in the quite spacious room suddenly turned chilled as life around seemed to come to a halt. the eccentric buzzing of traffic seemingly stilled allowing cicadas and woodland birds to make their presence known.
fireflies tangoing into the darkened night jiving the streets alongside citizens peacefully making their way back to their residences.
it’s unlikely for a friday night to be uneventful for logan. a usual run through of the crazed day would be servicing important higher ups in his limousine, taking them to a glamorous black-tie event or a rowdy group of middle aged ladies celebrating a bride-to-be’s last night of freedom.
it was also unlikely for the said man to be in your bedroom after the hours of eight, conversing with you as the pads of his calloused fingertips ghosted over the satin silk that graced upon your body.
his tensed furrowed eyebrows relaxed for once, as he willingly leaves his on edge and guarded demeanour at your porch.
you don’t know how he was able to get the night off and frankly, you aren’t too eager to find out. rather using your energy to melt in his presence and eventually molding into one as his hazel half lidded eyes cautiously watches you straddle him then ease yourself on his semi hard cock.
his eyes immediately screwed shut followed by a throaty low groan once you bottom out, sitting completely still, your pelvises touching one another. your eyes softly flutter at the pleasurable ache as your hands found refuge around his neck and into the brushy hairs on his nape.
your question rings through his ears like a faint echo. with a quirked eyebrow, he lifts his head off the antique bed frame to face you, sharply examining your features.
“you can’t be serious?” he exasperatedly huffed out closing his eyes again and leaned back against the headboard.
you narrowed your eyes at him, “i’m dead serious. why else would you bring your glasses if you knew you had zero intentions of doing any reading?”
he doesn’t miss a beat, “i keep 'em on me at all times.” his voice is flat, not showcasing any emotion to give you more material.
you sigh, your lips pursed into a thin line while glancing at logan’s salt and pepper tufts of hair, allowing silence to fall amongst the two of you, not willing to continue the small squabble for a rather nonsensical request on your end.
that’s until you hear him scoff and mutter under his breath, “yeah, that’s what i thought.”
with a sharply slow roll of your hips you clamp down onto him, feeling his cockhead prods at your spongy spot. he loudly hisses through his teeth due to the sudden sensation, panting slightly as his fist balls up the sheets.
“you should be glad i haven’t hidden them yet, you old fuck,” you coyly beam.
logan’s brows knitted together as he shakily exhaled a deep breath to maintain —what’s left of— his composure, eyes stuck on your figure. great, you’re mocking him now, but he did have it coming he supposes.
his next movements are calculated, hesitant and uncertain as he reaches for your waist. yes, he has touched you before from head to toe, but there is always a sick gutted feeling of his that you’ll easily wither away in his arms leaving his dread to consume his soul once again.
his grip on your waist is loose, a mere nudge from a ghost, until you cuff your own hands over his to reassure his grip on you, his gaze softens.
“what do you want from me tonight?” his voice comes out as a honey dipped whisper, not what you were expecting as a rebuttal. it throws you off course, breath hitching before lightly nibbling on your bottom lip.
what exactly do you want from him tonight? when you received his sudden call five minutes before his arrival your nerves were over the moon. despite being in a relationship with logan for many months now, he always gave you an unorthodox reason to be nervous.
logan is intense. from how he carries himself to his appearance, his gaze all the way down to his speech patterns, the venom he spits out to his enemies or how he loves and cares for others so deeply; flesh, bones and all.
his love intimidates you —which is ironic in the sense that he could say the same exact thing about you— so truthfully, you don’t know what you want from him. only to be close enough to touch him, smell him, and to strip away his clothes to feel his skin onto yours.
but you choose not to say any of this, “shouldn’t i be asking you that?”
he dryly chuckles. the type of chuckle that reverberates against your own body from close proximity. you always loved when he laughed.
“i suppose you’re right, i am your guest after all.”
his larger hands begin to caress your waist, rubbing small circles with his thumb, “why do you want me to read to you?” genuine curiosity is laced in his tone. he stares up at you patiently awaiting for your answer and you now feel like a deer caught in headlights.
his undivided attention makes you shift against him causing the both of you to softly groan then you shrug, because you truly don’t know why yourself.
“i thought it would be a nice thing for us to do.” you nervously start to pick at the skin that surrounds your nails.
he simply hums in acknowledgment and soon captures your hands in his to stop you from fidgeting, “next time, bub, i just want to enjoy this at the moment.”
you break out into an earnest smile, your hands soon snaking its way out of his grasp to place them back on the base of his neck, his hands soon moves to your waist with much more confidence this time around.
“sooo, does this mean you’ll take another day off to visit me again?” your big doe eyes lit up at the possibility of spending another quiet friday night with logan by your side.
he feigns irritation, “who said i took the day off? i just didn’t have anything better to do.”
you playfully shove his shoulder before passionately locking lips with him. he’s tentative to your reactions as he bores his entire life force into you, a match has been light in the pit of his stomach as you both explored each other’s mouths.
he grunts. wanting more, craving more until you pull away, a small string of saliva follows before separating.
“well, next time when you have nothing better to do you’ll just have to read me pride and prejudice.”
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reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3
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benevolentbones · 2 months
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Hi! What about if an unsub was threatening the teams families and so they had to gather everyone together and that’s how the team finds out that Spencer has a very pregnant girlfriend lmao
Maybe some angst but lots of fluff!
surprise surprise | spencer reid x fem!reader
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warnings: minimal angst, lots of fluff!! happy couple
word count: 0.8k
a/n: thank you for the request! hope you enjoy this short fic !! reblogs n comments appreciated!
the bau had been dealing with a particularly difficult unsub for weeks, a conscientious criminal who always seemed to be a few paces ahead. and now this unsub had changed his motive, he was now threatening the families of all the members of the bau.
which lead to the team having their respective families brought in to quantico, with no choice other then to have them go into protective custody.
the team were all gathered in the large conference room, waiting for their family members to arrive. slowly people began entering the room, first morgan’s mother and sisters, then penelope’s brother and so on until almost everyone’s families were present.
all except spencer’s. he anxiously stood by the door, hotch to his side. every so often he would glance to the door and then back to hotch who gave him a stern but reassuring look.
“they’re on the way..don’t worry.” he placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder to calm the younger man. hotch was the only one who was aware of spencer’s…situation.
after a few more moments, diana, spencer’s mother walked through the door being guided by a member of police. he relaxed slightly, giving his mother a brief hug before continuing to look towards the door.
hotch scanned the room, checking off all the members of the bau and their families. another few minutes passed and spencer was growing anxious again.
spencer pulled out his cellphone for the 30th time in the last hour, dialling the same number he had tried the last twenty nine times. it went straight to voicemail. shit. he thought, he brain wandering to the worst possible scenario.
until a girl in her mid twenties ambled through the doorway, followed by a member of the police. she held onto her stomach as she walked, letting out a breath when she got to the doorway.
spencer instantly relaxed, quickly rushing to the girls side. she was clearly a few months pregnant, the shirt she wore riding up around her midriff to expose the bump.
spencer immediately pulled her into his arms, holding her close. morgan and emily who were a few feet away exchanged a look to eachother. “is that reid’s sister? they look nothing alike.” emily whispered out.
spencer pulled away from you, his hands resting on either side of your arms. his eyes softened when they met yours.
“i was so worried-“ he began, pausing when you smiled back at him.
“i’m alright spencer really..” you responded, placing a soft hand to cup his cheek.
he let out a breathy sigh, scanning your body. “are you okay? is the baby okay?” he quizzed, still a little anxious about the thought of the unsub threatening you.
“spencer..we’re okay.” you mumbled, lightly moving his face so he was locking eyes with you. “you don’t need to worry anymore.”
“i- i know i can’t help it..” he smiled, resting his hand on your cheek before pulling you in for a kiss. you relaxed in his hold, melting into the sweet embrace.
morgan and emily’s eyes widened slightly at the sight. “ooh not his sister.” emily muttered out, slapping her hand lightly off of morgan.
when you pulled away he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a small breath. “i love you..”
“i love you too spencer.” you smiled as you pulled away from him, noticing a few sets eyes staring at you both. you let out a small cough to get spencer’s attention, he awkwardly took your hand in his and lead you over to the team.
hotch, morgan and emily stood there, their expressions ranging from curiosity to amusement. hotch shuffled closer pulling you into a quick hug. “it’s great to see you again y/n.” he muttered out, earning a look from emily.
“you knew this whole time-“ she let out a small gasp earning a chuckle from you.
morgan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “when we’re you going to tell us, pretty boy?”
spencer who had been standing to the side, his hand around your waist spoke up. “well i wasn’t exactly going to keep in a secret forever..you would have found out eventually.” he admitted, signalling down to your stomach.
you rested your hand on the bump, earning a sweet gasp from emily. “oh my god a little baby reid!” she exclaimed, before pulling you both into a quick hug.
just then, agent rossi entered the room and noticed the gathering. "what's all the commotion?" he asked, curiosity evident in his eyes.
morgan grinned. "pretty boy here was keeping secrets. he's got a baby on the way."
rossi's eyes widened in surprise before softening into a warm smile. "congratulations, reid. you're going to make a great father."
spencer blushed slightly and nodded his thanks. as the team settled into quieter conversations, the tension in the room began to ease.
hotch, ever the leader, stepped forward. "alright, everyone, we need to stay focused. our families are here to stay safe, but we still have a job to do. let's regroup and make sure we catch this unsub before he gets any closer."
taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid @khxna
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Hatred & Love
"... burn in the same intensity," Gwayne laughs as I walk off. His expression softens but no one but him will ever know. He links his hands together, "or so I'm told, princess."
Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen!Reader | 700< | cw: fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fuck boy!gwayne, fluff ig, when daemon said hightower cunt he meant gwayne because he Serves™, typos, etc.
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I saunter down the hall on my way back to my chambers. My ears perk at the sound of laughter from the distance. Immediately, my jaw tightens in recognition, and my feet quicken its pace. I squeeze my hands together, wanting nothing more than to avoid whom I knew I might encounter.
The gods fail me as I spot the aggravating Hightower, merrily loitering in the gardens with his company. Dare they drink in broad daylight? Clad in his sigil and armor, no less.
Tactless.
Apparently, he had won another silly tourney. How irritating of him to celebrate in my home. The Keep would surely benefit from his absence. Gods know the peace I feel when he is not around.
Gwayne's eyes drift. I can feel him looking at my handmaids, at me, as we pass. He laughs at whatever foolishness his friend tells him; the noise grates at me. I scoff under my breath, "barbarian."
Gwayne smirks and calls out, "blessed morn, princess!"
"How can it, when you are here, and it is midday?" I retort, sparing him no glance or pause.
He chuckles as he stands. My face twists as I hear his clanking armour. My heart races at the sound of footsteps accelerating towards me.
My arm is pulled back. I shoot a glare at Gwayne and his stupid face as he releases me. His lopsided smirk aggravates me further as he says, "is a congratulations not in order?"
I snort, "for whom," I raise a brow, "for you?"
"For you," he tilts his head back, placing his hands behind him, "the most temperate princess of all. So comely, so-" his dimples show, "sweet."
I feel my face begin to tighten.
He sticks out his lower lip, "they had no one to crown queen of love and beauty in your absence. Twas a shame."
My head cocks to the side. My brows knit, "you mean you?"
"What?"
"You had no one to crown Queen of Love and Beauty," I step forward.
He stays put as I impose into his personal space. His eyes dart up and down; the muscle on his jaw feathers.
"Were you so anguished by my absence that the victory left a bitter taste in your lips?" I pout and sigh as I bring my hands behind me, effectively mocking him.
Gwayne watches how my chest sinks. His expression chips away a fraction, but it is enough to make me smirk, and I do so happily.
That is, until he licks his lips.
"Tis victory enough that you know of it," his smirk grows. Mine fades as he continues, "my heart sings at the newfound knowledge that you gossip about me, princess."
I chuckle dryly, admittedly louder than necessary, "I need no gossip! Tis not hard to hear about you, when your blabbermouth is audible even in the dungeon's depths!"
His defenses slip. A giddy chuckle escapes his diaphragm, and the rich sound makes my stomach drop. His eyes crinkle and his hands relax to his side. He lets himself relish his amusement before he mutters, "how then would I gain your attention?"
My lips part.
His brows raise.
My breath hitches.
Wind blows my silver hair into my mouth and the sound of me spitting it out snaps him out of his trance. Gwayne shifts on his leg, "perhaps I should pull your hair."
My upper lip curls at his childish response, and he chortles at my look of disgust. "You are a hateful beast," I roll my eyes and turn about.
"Hatred and love burn in the same intensity," Gwayne laughs as I walk off. His expression softens but no one but him will ever know. He links his hands together, "or so I'm told, princess."
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lovemebutleavemewild · 3 months
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John Price goes into security consulting when he retires from the armed forces and ends up working for your company.
On long nights working late, you've made a habit of sneaking out the escape door for a smoke. You learned a long time ago how to deactivate the alarm for the few minutes you need to get your nicotine fix.
The first time he catches you at it, he almost gives you a heart attack, emerging from around the corner in the dark, scowling and folding his arms.
And when he tells you off - because that's what it is, he's completely talking down to you - it immediately gets your back up.
So you keep doing it, just to piss him off. Almost want him to report you so you know you've gotten under his skin, so you know you've won.
On the third night in a week that he catches you at it, he stalks towards you. You watch him cooly, staying calm until he gets up in your face and snatches the cigarette from between your fingers.
"What is your problem?"
He cuts you off, grabbing your arm and spinning you around, pushing your face into the wall.
"My problem?" he growls in your ear. "My problem right now is you, you little brat."
And then he pulls you over to a bench by the wall, dragging you over his lap.
"You," he says, yanking your knee-length skirt up over your waist, "are going to learn to follow the rules, if it kills me."
You fight him viciously for the first few spanks to your bare ass, almost but not quite, bucking him off.
But after a while, you start to feel your lower stomach soften. He notices as soon as you relax into him.
"That's right, darlin'. Know you deserve this for being such a fuckin' bad girl, don'tcha? Been wreckin' my head all week."
He spreads the spanks over your ass and thighs, jolting you further into his knees every time. And even when he stops, your hips keep jutting forward of their own accord, grinding into him.
John reaches down to slip a finger, then two, inside you, and you moan.
"Not so bad doing what you're told is it?" he asks you, pulling out just to rub circles into your clit.
Leans over you as he pushes you over the edge.
"Pretty girl," he croons. "Smile for the security cameras - me and the boys are gonna be watching this 'lil movie for a while."
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anantaru · 3 months
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ONE KISS IS ALL IT TAKES ... OR MORE? — SCARAMOUCHE
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your boyfriend scaramouche can be so grumpy sometimes, but you know of a couple ways that will make him show his soft side, wc. 1.3k
・✶ 。 warnings — heavily making out & tit play, fem! reader, fluff, established relationship, grumpy scaramouche
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it's not difficult for you to discern whenever your boyfriend scaramouche was grumpy after a long day and you could already hear it from afar, not needing to see him— the familiar sounds of grumbling and frustrated sighs flowing from his lips to your ears even before you entered your shared apartment.
to be clear, you really don't mind your boyfriend being in one of his moods again, it was quite normal to you and in all honesty, there was nothing more inside of you than a burning impulse of wanting to help him as good as you could.
you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what might've been the reason this particular night.
right as you walked into your bedroom, you found him lividly pacing back and forth, his brows furrowed and his lips set in a tight line of frustration, agitated to the point where he didn't even acknowledge your presence, too wrapped up in whatever was bothering him.
"hey, are you okay?" you ask him gently, stepping a bit closer before setting your jacket on the bed, not taking your gaze off him.
"hah, what? oh, yeah, totally fine, totally okay," he mutters back, awkwardly glancing at you before resuming his pacing, giving you a cold shoulder— and ah, he did this often, for scaramouche it was difficult to actually open up but also, the last thing he wanted was to somewhat drag you down with him.
"those people in the akademiya just, they're, ugh, aggravating, you know? they don't under- understand me, they don't listen, they don't leave me alone,"
"they also can't stop staring and muttering their little mouths to death."
you listen patiently, nodding contently as he vented out his frustrations while ever so often attempting to stop himself by biting into his lower lip— and well, scaramouche had a big tendency to get grumpy pretty easily, and it often took him a while to wind down but talking to you helped, even if it takes him a little to actually do it.
not to mention that you knew the secret to calming him down, always, achieving great relaxation in softening the expression on his face.
you take his hand, guiding him to the edge of the bed as he flinches he moment you touched him, "come over there," you motion towards the bed as he nods, pulling him down to sit beside you, "relax, okay? you're home now."
"i can't relax right now," he barks back, furrowing his brows although he can never resist your welcoming, more so warm embrace as you tugged him closer to your chest, "how can people be so stupid there? aren't they supposed to be geniuses or something?"
you couldn't suppress a laugh, chuckling as you tenderly run a hand through his tousled hair, "maybe you're just too smart, ever thought about that?" you add and listen to him as he exhales shakily through his mouth.
but the man grumbles and you could swear you saw a smile, a slight pucker of his lips when you called him smart, seeing it as a small victory in itself before you shift closer, your arms wrapped around his neck.
he reacts to your touch immediately, his body tense against yours as you just hugged him for a while, holding him gently and waiting until you felt him start to relax.
"breathe and— and just feel me, okay?" you utter.
he sighs but you know whenever he sighs just like that, when the tension in his soul and body eases a bit more, "you're too good to me, keeping up with this," he frowns, his voice losing some of it's earlier sharp edge as it attains a pillowy note.
"ah, i know," you tease, "—don't have to tell me that all the time," as you playfully roll your eyes, kissing his cheek, "kidding, i love all sides of you."
"feeling better already?" you ask him, "now that i'm here?" your voice barely above a whisper.
"maybe, only a little though," you're helping and he knows it, he's both in love and scared by how well you already knew him by now.
his gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes, "there's something that would make me feel better, great even,"
a curious expression dances over your cheekbones, a playful smile tugging at your precious lips, "oh, really now? what are you thinking about?"
and instead of answering you with words, he captures your lips in a kiss that was a cross between a need and a fleeting frustration, an eager want that quickly deepened the kiss between you. you tug at his hair, pushing him into your lips as he kissed you like a man starved of love and lust, his tongue moving over yours in a hunger well beyond desperation.
the intensity multiplied in seconds, in every touch and every swipe of tongue— scaramouche was eager, he made sure to kiss you even harder as his hands roamed freely over your chest, leaving you short of breath.
never in a million years was his touch not possessive, not almost desperate to the point where you immediately needed more— although it was easy to discern that there was an underlying reason as to why scaramouche kissed you that way, it's as if he was afraid you might slip away if he didn't hold you tight enough.
you broke the kiss only long enough to gasp for air, looking into his doughy eyes as your heart knocks and knocks against your chest, his facial expression drowsy and clouded, his lips swollen and glistening, "scara," you whine, your thighs pressing together.
"hmm?" he just hums an answer, not giving you a chance to say more before capturing your lips yet again, another kiss that was even more fervent than the last one he has given you.
he helps you get onto his lap before one hand slipped under your shirt to play with your tits, instantly targeting your erected nipples with a playful pinch and tug.
you shiver and moan his name, your body responding to his touch with a need that barely matched his own.
he shifts the both of you before pressing you into the bed, his body on top of yours and his lips searching for your neck as it elicits a hefty gasp from your throat.
scaramouche laughs with a deep groan as he continues to pinch your nipples and squeeze your pretty tits, his bangs sticking against his forehead and only showing the pace he was going for.
"scara, please— please," you whine, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you arch into his touch.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire, "please what, hmm?" he asks teasingly, like he doesn't know what he's doing to you— as if he's not fully aware on how to get you to this point.
his voice was now, consisting of a low growl that sent shivers down your spine before he grabs at his clothed cock to show you what you're doing to him, stroking the obvious bulge in his pants and hissing as he grinds his cock into his palm.
"please don't stop," you whisper and cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you before your voice trembles in need, "i need you, it feels so good,"
ah, what was the reason he was grumpy about again? because archons— scaramouche swears he forgot, he can forget just about anything when he hears you say that you need him.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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cloudzoro · 3 months
Text
cw: smut
You feel guilty as you turn over in bed for the fifth time in the past thirty minutes. You've tried everything you possibly can to drift off without waking your sleeping boyfriend but to no avail.
“Babe, can you stop moving? you're making it difficult to sleep” Law's tired voice says from next to you. You mumble an apology and Law's arm wraps around you to pull your back flush against his chest. He nuzzles his head against the back of your neck and you smile slightly at the affection Law shows you. His guard is down more when he's sleepy. You unintentionally move again, pushing your ass against his crotch and he groans into your skin. “Can you keep still for five fucking seconds?”
“I'm sorry,” you say. “I can't sleep”
Law sighs and adjusts so he's propped up on his side, leaning over you slightly. He quickly looks around the room like he's looking for something and you realise he's probably looking for the sleep meds he'd prescribed you to help with sleep in the past.
“I already took them, I tried every technique I could think of. I just can't get to sleep” you whine, growing frustrated with your inability to drift off.
“There's still one more” Law shrugs, leaning back down to press a kiss to your shoulder. His hand smooths over your hip, inching closer to your underwear. “you gonna let me help you?” he asks, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your neck. You nod and lean back against him.
One hand slips under your underwear to play with your clit as he ruts his hips against your ass. His quiet groans are muffled by the wet kisses he's pressing to your neck but they still send shivers down your spine. The stimulation on your clit is enough to have you on the edge of an orgasm but Law pulls your panties aside so he can guide his cock into you and you immediately moan out loud. He snaps his hips into yours, adjusting the grip he has on you so that he can angle his thrusts properly. With his heavy pants in your ear and whispered praises through gritted teeth, you can tell he's just as close as you are.
It feels slightly pathetic to you; you were already close to cumming just from heavy petting and now that he's actually inside you you're about to be thrown headfirst towards your orgasm. Law's kisses soften but his thrusts don't.
“I'm gonna cum, baby. Are you close?” he says, voice coming off more like a whine than sure of himself. You nod, not having it in you to respond when you're pushed over the edge. Law keeps up his movements until your breathing evens out. When he's sure you've finished, he pulls out of you as gently as possible and sorts your underwear back to its original position on your body.
Law shushes you as you mumble a thank you to him. He lays back down with you, dragging the tips of his fingers over your skin to aid in soothing you to sleep. The sex has tired you out and your orgasm has left you completely blissed out and relaxed. it doesn't take long for you to drift off and the last thing you hear before falling asleep is a declaration of love.
“sleep well baby, I love you”
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phntmeii · 1 year
Text
⭐️ OPLA Characters and the “Only One Bed” Trope
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[Suggestive + No Gendered Terms]
⭐️ Characters Featured: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Sanji, Mihawk
⭐️ A/N: So... Maybe just the part one to this if people like it? I'll write the next part with the other characters if people want it :) Anyway, cranking out these compilation posts because I’m brain broken with just OPLA content.
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Monkey D. Luffy
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✖️ Luffy didn’t show any concern about there being one bed. He saw it as something to find fun in a way! To share a bed with one of his friends!
✖️ He’s immediately jumping into the bed and turning to you, holding out his arms, waiting for you.
✖️ “I promise not to take up too much space! Come on!”
✖️ Luffy is immediately wrapping himself around you like a little backpack, nuzzling his head into your neck.
✖️ “M’so soft…” while his hand gently caressed your belly, gently grabbing and massaging it.
✖️ When he felt himself half-asleep, he didn't notice how he was trailing small kisses at your shoulder and the back of your neck. It was like an unconscious habit shining through.
✖️His arms around you are tightly clung so it’s safe to say that you aren’t leaving the bed until he lets you. And he just might not all night.
Roronoa Zoro
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✖️ Zoro is immediately refusing. The moment he saw one bed in the room, he spun on his heels and walked out to try and complain.
✖️ When there really was no other rooms, he entered back inside with an annoyed look.
✖️ “Just… *sigh*. Take the bed. I’ll be fine”
✖️ Maybe he could just lay on the floor instead in his mind. Even when you offered to share, he refused. But, he soon found that the discomfort wasn’t worth it.
✖️ He carefully climbed into the bed, taking up the minimum he could at the edge. When he was drifting asleep, he didn’t notice his hands reach out for you, pulling your body toward his.
✖️ As if you were a stuffed animal, he pressed your body to his and hugged you close.
✖️ His tired voice just hushed you when you tried to ask what he was doing as his hands moved toward your chest. “Shh… Jus’… You’re warm.”
✖️ After your restless night together, the next morning, he acts as if he has no idea what you’re talking about when you ask him about last night.
Nami
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✖️ Nami is annoyed but won’t make a big deal out of it. She’ll roll her eyes and complain while setting her stuff down.
✖️ “Let’s just… do what we can. It’s only for one night. You take that side, I’ll take this side.”
✖️ She didn't want to make you uncomfortable or overstep boundaries. Keeping on her side, facing away from you.
✖️ She soon heard you rustling around in the bed, unable to keep still, she was annoyed but asked what was wrong. "Nami... I just- Sorry, I can't sleep."
✖️ Nami's face softened in realization. Sighing, she scooted closer and pulled you into her, holding you close. Her hands gently rubbed your back.
✖️ "It's okay. I can make you feel better." She let her hands lightly caress your sides, trailing up to your neck then cheek. "C'mon, I'll help tire you out."
Vinsmoke Sanji
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✖️ Sanji immediately smirked at the sight of one bed but on the inside, was absolutely dying from embarrassment at the idea of being so close to you.
✖️ He immediately laid in bed, hands behind his head with a cocky look. "Already nervous, beautiful? It's only one night..."
✖️ You were used to Sanji's flirting and mainly ignored it since he was like that with everyone. You weren't inherently special in your head.
✖️ The moment you relaxed into the bed on your side, facing away from Sanji, Sanji was laid on his side, eyes to your back. He hesitated to do anything but stare, but he couldn't help it. A phantom touch of his fingers lightly traced your spine.
✖️ You were initially going to complain like you normally did until Sanji scooted closer, placing a kiss at your shoulder. His hand lightly rubbing your arm.
✖️ You heard that ever-familiar teasing, soft laugh behind you. He enjoyed your reactions to his simple touches.
✖️ "You're so stiff... It's just my hands, you know? I just want... I need to feel you."
Dracule Mihawk
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✖️ Mihawk stared at the bed indifferently. It was an inconvenience but certainly not something he was going to fuss about. It's just a bed.
✖️ He placed his belongings aside, getting ready for bed and slipping under the covers. When he saw you looking to instead sleep on the floor with your bag as a makeshift pillow, he didn't say anything.
✖️ Laying in bed, Mihawk always found it difficult to drift to sleep, as though he was meant to be tormented by the mere idea of sleep.
✖️ Maybe an hour had gone by and he looked over to see you still on the floor, huddled into yourself. He sighed loudly. "Stop forcing yourself to freeze. Lay down here."
✖️ Seeing you carefully slip under the covers as well, he looked over at you, eyes scanning your face then raking down your body.
✖️ Mihawk reached out with his hand, pulling you closer to him until your face was inches away from his. His stare was critical still, as it always was.
✖️ His hand went to the back of your head, gently caressing you. “I can warm you up, if you’d like me to. Lay back.”
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⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
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hxnbi · 3 months
Text
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⸻ ღ ❝ THE NIGHT THEY WAITED ❞
synopsis. wind breaker boys and their reaction when they realized you hadn't come home
ft. ren kaji, hajime umemiya, haruka sakura, jo togame, choji tomiyama x gn. reader (separate)
contents. fluff, angst/comfort, established relationship
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REN KAJI ─ ✦.° ✩
KAJI is all but distracted with his own thoughts until he realized that hours passed, and yet, you still had not returned. That alone was enough to worry him, pulling out the lollipop in his mouth and trashing it. Not even the sweet taste of the candy could mask the sour taste pooling in his mouth at the thought that you might be in danger.
He debated back and forth in his own mind whether he should find you and ensure that you are safe, or trust that you are capable and able to handle yourself. Even pacing back and forth in the comfort of his own home with an expression of distaste and blatant cuss words being thrown like clockwork.
Kaji is very easily overstimulated by loud noises (though the ear-piercing rock music he plays on his headphones begs to differ), so the second you return with a wide grin and a voice of steel, he immediately tenses, greeting you with a nod. His eyes, however, betrayed his calm exterior, showing just how much he missed you.
“Sorry for being late, Kaji!” you called out, taking off your shoes and entering the living room where Kaji sat. “Did I worry you?”
Clearly awaiting your presence, he shook his head, but his eyes told a different story, and you saw it.
"It's alright," he murmured.
You sighed, looking a bit sheepish. "I’m sorry if I worried you. I just got caught up helping Mrs. Tanaka with her groceries. Her cart tipped over in the market, and I couldn’t just leave her to clean it all up by herself. Then she insisted on making me tea as a thank you, and, well, you know how chatty she can get."
Kaji’s expression softened. From all the causes he had concocted to himself prior about your odd absence about what could’ve happened to you, he was just relieved that you were here, at this moment, here, with your attention solely on him. “Tch...” he said quietly, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand. “I just missed you, that’s all,” he said softly, his voice barely audible, like he was embarrassed that he had worried so much over nothing. It was so unlike him to be this vulnerable.
Kaji ran his fingers through the middle part of his hair. 'Shit...' He reached out to take your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
You smiled, squeezing his hand back. "I missed you too, Kaji. Let's have a quiet evening together, just the two of us! You know, there was a movie that Ms. Tanaka reckoned to watch with amazing music! Wanna try?”
His shoulders relaxed, and he gave you a small, genuine smile. "That sounds perfect."
HAJIME UMEMIYA ─ ✦.° ✩
The second UMEMIYA realized that you weren’t there to visit him at Furin at the exact time, moment, and second that you always did with a bright smile and cheerful greeting, he felt a sense of unease digging into his gut. At first, he brushed it off from you not having enough time and merely forgetting to tell him. But when Umemiya came home that evening, his heart already pounding with worry, only to see an empty apartment, it only augmented his anxiety that something might’ve been wrong. Still, he remained positive. But hours would go by, and still was no sight of the person Umemiya now utterly craved to see.
Anyone who dared to piss the leader of Furin that day would face his utter wrath, but when it came to you, his anger melted into pure elation and relief, as the moment you stepped through the door, his eyes widened, taking one step another the other to embrace you right into his arms. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself to save his own life. In truth, it was never a question that Umemiya was very physically affectionate, but his reaction tonight was on a whole new level that caught even you off guard.
Before you knew it, you were led to the couch, where Umemiya began to grill you, jumping straight into your lap and nearly knocking you over from the unexpected force. That is, if the couch didn't cushion your landing.
“Where have you been?! What have you been doing! And without me?! I-I was worried sick…”
You sheepishly met his gaze with a grimace, apologizing for not telling him that had plans that day with friends, and saying that you were just caught up in a conversation with the nearby shop owner and helped him to close shop that day, as he was rather on the older side and wanted to spend some extra time chatting.
"Ugh, you always do this! Do you know how worried I was? I thought something happened to you," Umemiya whined, his arms wrapping tightly around you. "You can't just disappear like that..."
He wouldn’t let you go, he can’t let you go. 
With a sigh, you steadied yourself on the couch as he straddled your legs, his face falling next to your hips as he smothered you with his weight. “Ume....” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. “You know that’s never going to happen.” 
Umemiya’s worried aura was quick to disperse as a small pout tugged at his lips. Every inch of him seemed to revel in the joy of having you back. Umemiya’s hands roamed your back, your arms, and burying his neck in your neck, as if to reassure himself that you were really there. He locked his arms around your waist when you attempted to make an escape from the ticklish feeling of his messy, visibly unwashed white hair brushing against the skin of your collarbone. 
“Ume! That tickles.”
“Too bad, you’re not getting away that easily.”
You smiled. During times like these, he really did look like a puppy.
HARUKA SAKURA ─ ✦.° ✩
The very second his heightened senses kicked in, SAKURA tried to keep calm. Key word, he tried. However, his actions would beg to differ once anyone would see him pacing back and forth, waiting for a certain person to come through that door. The worry that you hadn’t returned yet, even when the sun was past its peak, worried him to no end. What if you were confronted? What if you got hurt? What if… you left him?
His foot tapped against the floor in a rhythmic sound, keeping his arms crossed. Sakura tried to play it cool, but the second you walked through the door, he couldn’t hide the relief in his eyes. You looked to be fine, but what if something happened and he wasn’t aware…? Was there something he—
“Sakura,” your voice broke through the corridors of his mind. “I’m sorry about today, my friends wanted—“
“About time you showed up,” he clicked his tongue with a roll of his eyes.
But you noticed the softening of his gaze, the slight tremor in his voice. He stood there, arms crossed, attempting to maintain his usual aloof demeanor, but the faint tremble in his lips gave him all away. And as you walked closer, you saw the unfurling of his arms, his hands itching to reach out to you. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Sakura pulled you into a tight hug, his face buried in your hair. His long arms circled you, making their way around your back.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. 
He pulled you closer to his chest and you could feel his heartbeat slowly accelerate. But that wasn’t enough for Sakura to let go. You hugged him back just as tightly, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away. "I missed you too, Sakura. I’m sorry I worried you."
The second those very words exited your mouth, Sakura pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Tch, you can go wherever the hell you want. Just next time, just promise me you’ll let me know, okay? I can’t stand not knowing where you are or if you’re safe.”
You nodded, touched by his unusual sense of concern for you. “I promise!"
"Hah... The hell are you smiling like that for...?" For a moment, you could see Sakura breathe a sigh of relief. 
“If you even know how to text me, that is.”
Sakura’s face exploded. “Y-YOU!!! I know how to use a phone!!”
"Really? Then why don’t you ever reply to my messages?"?"
"HUH??"
Safe to say, he wasn’t very impressed.
JO TOGAME ─ ✦.° ✩
There was a moment of worry when you didn’t show up on time. At first, TOGAME tried to keep himself busy, to focus on anything other than the gnawing concern that something might have happened to you. But the moment you stepped through the door, Togame felt as though a weight was lifted off his shoulders—quite literally. 
You looked to be okay, he thought, and without thinking, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you. No questions asked, just pure, unfiltered affection. And a rather unexpected welcome home that you were hardly expecting. 
You took a moment to process the actions, eyes darting around restlessly before landing back on the man standing before you. “Well…” you began with a sheepish smile, “I was walking here, and I saw this new food stall that I’ve never seen before. So I went to check it out! Guess I lost track of time, aha...”
When you peered up, your eyes met the pupils of the man who, earlier, felt as though he had almost lost everything. 
“I’m sorry, Jo,” you murmured, bowing your head. “I should’ve texted you when I had the chance. I’m seriously so sorry for worrying you—”
“No… no, you shouldn't be sorry,” he shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is my fault,” he muttered to himself, unbeknownst to you. Something that, deep down, he truly felt that way.
You heard his voice crack like fragile shards, the lump in his throat betraying his true emotions that were so contrary to the aloof facade he puts on in front of others, with his embrace tightening, as if ensuring to himself that you were really there. Togame was so distracted that when he finally let go after what felt like an actual eternity, he saw the bag that you were holding in your hand.
“I- What’s that? I-In your hand.”
“Huh? Oh, this? It's something I brought just for you! I thought of you immediately. They had all sorts of interesting treats, and I remembered how you love trying new things. So, I wanted to get something special just for you.” You laughed nervously, holding up the bag as if to emphasize your point. “I knew that you liked matcha, so I got a portion just for you—”
He hugged you again, not even allowing you a chance to finish speaking. This time, you entirely relaxed your muscles, a smile slowly making its way onto your face as you melted into his embrace, rubbing softly at his lower back.
He cleared his throat, finally pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, reluctantly letting you go. Just for a moment. With a yearning expression, he gazed at you from top to bottom. But it wasn’t so much an expression of worry, but one of pure gratitude. You always thought of him first, and he did the same. As if ignoring all the outside noises, Togame placed his hands gently on the sides of your face, his eyes met yours and shared a smile.
“Welcome home, my love,” he repeated with a tenderness that made you feel truly at home.
CHOJI TOMIYAMA ─ ✦.° ✩
“Choji! I’m back! Oh? Guess he’s not here…” You arrived at your home, but everywhere you looked, appeared to be empty. That is, until a certain someone came up from behind you and snaked his hands around your waist, his breath tickling your ear.
“Well, well!? Did I surprise you?!” CHOJI exclaimed with his signature carefree attitude.
You turned to face him with an exasperated look. “Choji…”
Choji burst into a fit of giggles, but his grin instantly faltered when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes and dripping to the once pristine flooring. “W-Wha— w-why are you crying?!” he exclaimed, his hands fluttering around you in a panicked attempt to comfort you, not like that would work.
Feeling overwhelmed, you lightly shoved him away, “You scared me half to death, Choji!” But that wasn’t enough to push him away, as he curled back right into your arms, locking his arms around your waist to ensure that you weren’t going to escape.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were going to take so long to come back home…” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.
“H-Huh?”
“I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just... I wanted to surprise you. I missed you so much… because you didn’t come back, and I couldn’t wait to see you. It's been too quiet around here without you."
"Choji..."
You could see the genuine concern in his eyes. The hearts and stars in his pupils were replaced with worry, so far removed from the usual carefree manner and joy he carried himself with. You didn’t expect Choji to be so worried about you coming home a bit later, but that was an assumption that you never should’ve made. Why wouldn't Choji assume the worst after all the crap he’s been through?
You nestled into his arms, "I missed you too, Choji. It feels good to be home." You took a deep breath, calming yourself as you looked at him. The sincerity in his pupils—the trademark puppy eyes—melted away your initial shock, and you sighed. “It’s okay, Choji. I’m happy to see you. I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry about not telling you earlier.”
Choji’s eyes that were so bright widened with guilt, his hands still hovering as if unsure whether to reach out again. His expression softened, and a grin from ear to ear spread across his face. “I promise, no more sneaking up on you,” he said, a hint of his playful nature returning. “I just wanted to make your homecoming special.”
You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “Well, it definitely was something different.”
He pulled you into another hug, this time more gentle, and you could feel the tension melting away from both of you. “Welcome back,” he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and love. “I’m so glad you’re here. But don’t ever disappear without telling me next time, please~!”
You could hear him pouting, making you laugh. And as his arms spread wide, welcoming you in, you lightly scoffed at Choji’s antics before immediately entering them.
You threaded your fingers through his soft, curly locks of hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as he smiled contentedly.
“Yes, yes, I promise.”
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©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡
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mellowswriting · 3 months
Text
new perspective
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pairing || Din Djarin x f!Reader
word count || 2.8k
summary || teaching the infamous Mandalorian to slow down and enjoy life isn't easy. it takes planning, patience - and silken sheets apparently.
content || SMUT, domesticity, simple pleasures, shower sex, sensual massages (i'm incorrigible), p in v sex, cowgirl position 🤠, slow sweet sex, post-orgasm planning for the future (this is din, after all)
a/n || i know, i know. i can hear it all now. "mel, where the fuck have you been???" celebrating my graduation and then immediately devolving into an existential crisis. but that's okay! not only have i figured out my direction in life, but i've returned with everyone's favorite topic: simping for Din Djarin.
Din Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library Blog
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Din Djarin is not a man who knows how to take his time. He’s a workhorse, constantly on the go from one job to the next. He simply never learned the skill of savoring the little things in life. A good meal, a hot shower, a full night’s rest, leisure time. All of those things are simply a stranger to him. Any pleasure he takes, usually at his own hand, is perfunctory at best, a release of tension for its own sake.
Until you.
It starts simple - a set of silken sheets that you bring onto the Crest. Din returns to find you sprawled out on the small bed you share with a sleepy smile that makes his chest feel funny. Your fingers fan out against the soft material.
“Come feel.” You murmur. He doesn’t hesitate to tug off the thick leather gloves and brush the fabric with the back of his fingers. You watch as his shoulders soften, his head tilting as he takes in the foreign feeling. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah,” He says contemplatively. “It’s soft.”
Your smile widens and you shift over, making room for your lover. “Join me?”
“In a bit,” Din promises. The chill of his beskar soaks into your skin as he presses his forehead to yours. His warm palm cups your cheek and he holds you there for a breath before pulling away. “I have some more work to do.”
It isn’t hard to convince him to strip down when he joins you later that night. He’s exhausted, body aching from a long day’s work. He lets you strip away his armor and flight suit until he’s left in his briefs. You’re used to him falling asleep the moment he collapses into bed - but tonight is different. His eyebrows raise in surprise when he relaxes back into the pillows, his fingers rubbing circles against new sheets. Din is a man of few words but it’s obvious how much he likes the new addition to the bedroom.
“Come here,” He whispers, beckoning you to join him. The tension melts from his body as you curl up against his side. He tilts your chin up and kisses you softly, a wordless offer of his thanks that you eagerly accept. Surrounded by the cool sheets and the woman he loves, he falls asleep within minutes. That morning, Din lingers in bed for those first drowsy moments after waking. He wakes you with a few gentle caresses of his hands over your shoulder and arm and a murmur of your name. He looks more rested than usual.
You make sure to buy matching pillowcases the next time you’re out.
With every passing day, Din learns how to slow down and savor the morning. It doesn’t take much to keep him in bed with you a little longer each morning - a few soft touches and sweet kisses, and Din sinks right back into your arms. He rubs his face into the crook of your neck and drifts in and out of sleep, practically purring with every brush of your fingers through his hair. His voice, so deep and rough first thing in the morning, rumbles low in his chest as he murmurs his love into your skin. It’s simple, this early morning peace the two of you share. So simple, but so important.
You slip into the shower with him one random evening. You can’t help it. He’s been gone for two days straight on a bounty hunt and you’ve missed him. His eyes light up with interest as they trail over your naked body, his hands finding your waist and tugging you against him. A shiver of desire arcs up your spine - but you didn’t come here to get fucked silly in the shower. Well, not yet at least. You loop your arms around his shoulders and press up on your toes to kiss him properly. Din groans against your lips, already moving to press you against the shower wall. A gentle tug on his hair is enough to stop him in his tracks.
“Can I wash your hair?” You ask, looking up at him like the picture of innocence.
Din blinks at you, confused. “You want to… wash my hair?”
“Yeah,” You say softly.
There’s no need to over-explain. The two of you have mastered this silent communication over the months you have spent together. He searches your face for a moment before his expression softens, implicit permission given in the way his eyes shine for you. You gently lather shampoo into his thick curls and let your nails drag along his scalp in the way he loves. His eyelashes flutter under your touch but his eyes don’t close. He’s too intent on watching you. The grip he has on your hips tightens as you work, little groans falling from his lips at the simple pleasure of your hands on his body.
He lets you maneuver him and tilt his head back into the water without a hint of resistance. For a man so used to keeping everyone at arm's length, the trust he holds for you is plain as day. His cock twitches against your belly as your fingers meticulously work the suds from his hair. The barest hint of your skin against his is enough to get him riled up, but this…? The press of your slick, bare body pressed against his? His body language begs for more. He leans into the press of your fingers and cants his hips forward, slowly grinding against you with stuttered breaths.
The moment the water runs clear, Din lifts you by your thighs and presses you against the cold shower wall. You can’t help but admire the bulge of his biceps as he leverages you up and nudges your entrance with the head of his cock, searching your face for permission. The hungry kiss you drag him into is all the permission he needs. A new rush of adrenaline seizes his body as he sinks into you. He fucks you hard and fast, pace faltering at the pure heaven of your body. He wedges his hand between your bodies and rubs insistent circles against your clit. He just knows your body too well - within minutes, those frantic bursts of pleasure built into a powerful orgasm that leaves you trembling and weak in his arms.
Din buries his face in the crook of your neck as he spills inside of you just seconds later. Every moan and panted breath echoes through the small shower. You shiver at the feeling of his lips pressed against your neck. He always knows just where to kiss and touch to leave you like putty in his hands. He goes willingly when you guide him in for a real kiss, lazy and slow as the water streams against you. Careful not to let you slip, he lowers you onto your feet and maneuvers you until the water pounds against your back.
You should have expected him to return the favor. Din doesn’t take no for an answer.
“It’s your turn.” He murmurs, too adamant and stubborn to be swayed. You’ve always loved that about him, even when it gives you grief.
You melt into his chest as he works product into your hair, his fingers massaging at your scalp in a way you didn’t even know you needed. Little sounds of satisfaction fall from your lips with every touch. Sometimes you forget just how big his hands are. He palms the back of your head and draws you close enough that your noses brush, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet. He just watches you for a moment as he thoroughly washes your hair. He takes in the way you look up at him with an expression so full of love that he aches.
“I love you,” His voice is so low that it almost gets lost in the thrum of water, but you hear it. He can tell by the way your eyes light up, by the soft smile that curls your lips.
“I love you, too.” You whisper back. Din kisses you softly before tilting your head back and rinsing the suds from your hair.
Slowly but surely, you introduce Din to a life he never realized was possible. He learns how to revel in the attention and care you give him. He learns how to give it in return. His thoughts always return to you when he’s on a bounty, knowing he has to return to his little love waiting for him at his ship. Every now and then, he finds something to bring back to you - a little trinket, some sweets, a new book. You always look at him as if he’s placed the entire universe in the palm of your hands. Fuck, he would do it, too. Anything to see you so happy.
Din returns from a week-long bounty exhausted, sore, and with a little gift in hand. It’s just a new robe, something soft and airy for you to wear on those long nights in hyperspace. You gasp softly when he hands it to you, your fingers exploring the silky fabric as if it’s precious - and to you, it is. Not because it’s some rare or expensive treasure. Just because it comes from him.
Allowing you to remove his armor is as easy as breathing. He eagerly accepts every touch and kiss you give him, more than happy to let you do as you please. You set every piece of armor aside with care and neatly fold his flight suit. It doesn’t take any convincing to get him into the shower with you. The burning heat of the water soothes some of the aches that linger in his muscles. A dull throb still follows his every move but he powers through, not wanting to spoil such a pleasant evening with his lover.
He never really learned that he can’t hide anything from you.
“What’s wrong?” You ask as he eases himself onto the edge of the bed.
“Just sore,” He concedes, slowly rolling his shoulders in a vain effort to ease the tension. Your eyebrows furrow as you look him over with a keen eye. All you wear is that scrutinizing expression and the pretty robe he got you, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful. He sighs and reaches for your hand. “Come on, let’s just get some sleep.”
“You can’t sleep if you’re this uncomfortable.” You squeeze his shoulder, frowning when you feel how tight his muscles are. “Let me help.”
Din meets your gaze, your eyes so earnest that he doesn’t even think to deny you. He lets you maneuver him as you please until he’s laid out on his belly with you straddling his hips. A low groan rumbles through his chest when your hands bear down on his shoulders. Every pass of your fingers brings a strange combination of pleasure and pain that leaves him melting into the bed.
Even after all these months, he just isn’t used to the feeling of your skin against his. A simple passing touch is enough to have him shivering, but this? It’s overwhelming, all-consuming in the best possible way. It doesn’t take long for that pain to melt away into pure pleasure. Breathless, needy sounds follow every pass of your fingers. He can't help but rock his hips, grinding his cock into the silken sheets.
By the time you've finished working your thumbs into his lower back, you've reduced the Mandalorian beneath you into a desperate, hungry mess. He goes without hesitation when you urge him onto his back. His hands immediately find your hips and he grinds up into the heat of your cunt. The only thing that stops him from flipping you over and fucking you into the sheets is the gentle hand you place on his chest.
“Let me.” You whisper. Your voice carries a soft thrum of need that leaves him aching. “Let me take care of you.”
His fingers tighten at your hips at the mere brush of your fingers against his cock. That grip becomes bruising as you slowly sink onto him. Pleasure curls through his belly at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him, so hot and slick and perfect - it would be so easy to lose his mind in the rapture of your body. It isn’t easy to keep his eyes open under the onslaught of pleasure, but it’s well worth it. He’s rewarded with the sight of your jaw falling slack and a shiver wracking your body. The stretch, the angle - it’s all new to you. You aren’t used to taking him this way. He isn’t used to letting you.
You sigh a breathy, pleased little sound that makes his heart skip a beat or two. Fuck, you might just be the death of him one of these days. It’s a demise he welcomes if it means meeting his end at your hands. That first roll of your hips has his head tipping back into the pile of fluffy pillows, yet another addition of comfort you’ve brought to this bed. You can’t take your eyes off him - the flex of his biceps, the clench of his jaw, the sheen of sweat that glistens on his tan skin. A delicious vision of the man you’ve come to love so dearly. You lean down and press a kiss to his chest, his collarbone, to that sweet spot where his pulse thrums in his neck.
Your fingers comb through his curls, bringing his pleasure-clouded gaze back to your own. His lips part as you set a slow, steady pace. Every rise and fall of your hips makes his eyelashes flutter but he doesn’t look away. He’s too entranced by this, by the pure newness of it all. Heat pulses and courses through your belly with every grind of your clit against him, grows stronger with every needy sound you pull from him. His chin tips up, an obvious plea, and you kiss him. Soft and slow, full of tongue and teeth.
Din doesn’t think he’s ever experienced anything quite as overwhelming as this. He isn’t a stranger to the feeling of your body or the love you somehow hold for him, but this is all new. Every slow rock of your hips sends honeyed pleasure slinking down his spine. There’s no need to rush. He can take his time and truly feel you, revel in the plushness of your thighs and the wet heat of your cunt. For the first time, he lets himself explore your body unhurried. His hands drift up and palm your breasts, his fingers rolling your nipple with a gentle touch. Your head tips back as you hum a pleased little sound.
Din can’t help but press his hips up, rising every time yours fall. He doesn’t take control, doesn’t try to set a faster pace. He just moves with you as fluid as rushing water. His hands shift to cup your ass, his fingers digging in and spreading you out for him. Desire clouds your gaze as he grinds his hips at that perfect angle that makes you see stars. You’re so close - he can feel it in the telltale rhythmic pulse of your cunt, in the way your thighs tremble. Slick drips in little rivulets down his thighs.
“Perfect, so perfect,” He rambles between rushed breaths. “My sweet girl, all mine.”
“Yours,” You promise. “I’m yours.”
All it takes is one perfect rock of his hips to have you falling apart for him. That tension finally bursts through your belly, your cunt tightening around him with every aching wave of pleasure. You lose all sense, all ability to keep your pace, but Din is quick to take over. His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you down, spilling himself as deep as your body can take him. You let yourself melt into his chest, a wave of pleasure shuddering through you with every twitch of his spent cock.
Din locks his arms around your back, all too content to keep your body against his. No complaint comes from you. You just tuck your face into his neck with a spent sigh. The two of you float together in that sweet, exhausted haze. He doesn’t know for how long, but he never wants it to end. He never wants any of this to end. He wants this forever, for every possible moment of his life to be soaked in this contentment. Surrounded by soft sheets and the smell of your perfume. Unhurried and easy, with you.
Months ago, such a realization would have thrown him into an existential crisis. But he didn’t have you all those months ago - this sweet, bright-eyed, spitfire of a woman currently taking a cat nap on his chest. He didn’t have the sweet scent of your shampoo infused in his sheets. He didn’t have your soft exhales ghosting along his throat. He just didn’t know that life could be like this. The moment you shift as if you’re making to get off of him, his arms tighten around you.
“Just a little longer,” He murmurs, his voice sleepy and pleasure drunk.
You're more than happy to indulge him.
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