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shotmrmiller · 3 months ago

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god going on a date with johnny whom you matched on tinder and he's the type of guy you avoid like the plague; jaw-dropping good looks, cheeky ㅤㅤsmiles, hits the gym more in a week than you've done all year and worst of all, could charm the pants off a snake.

so it's truly no wonder that you end up letting him bury his face between your thighs and lap at your glistening sex until your moans almost turn into screams and you haven't even left the bar's driveway, then left to watch johnny wipe the condensation off the windshield with a spare shirt so he can drive you home all the while his chin drips with your slick.

he fucks you against the front door once inside, legs hooked over his arms, then again over your couch, hand curled around your throat, and again, in front of your full length mirror while he tells you how pretty you look taking all of him, to look at how pretty you look, his crystalline eyes latching onto yours through the reflection, pretty as a peach.

then he leaves you with his spend sticking your thighs together, a languid kiss that tastes of you, and with his personal number on a scrap piece of paper.

and that's the last you hear of him. he'd said that he's quite a busy man, military and whatnot, and all in all, while you'd raked your nails down his back on the first date, it had been a date. you require more than good sex to get into a committed relationship.

a swipe of your thumb brings up tinder again, and you match with another bloke not your type. big, broad man, biceps the size of your thighs with a deadpan stare that sees right through false bravado. but he's doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he makes you nervous, doesn't care that you stutter out responses to his rather abnormal questions.

simon takes you home and sits eerily silent with his hands dwarfing the steering wheel as you chew on your lip before tentatively inviting him in for a nightcap, and you must be the luckiest person on the planet because he's just as devoted to your pleasure as your last partner.

he brings you peak after peak with his tongue, his fingers, swirls your pearl with the tip of his misaligned nose. then he lets you be on top first, concentration knitting your brows togethee as you try to fit all of him in and pride warms your cheeks when you can hear his teeth audibly grind as his fingers bite into the soft of your waist once you take him to the root, thighs flush against his hips.

you come undone more times than you can count, the neighbors more than likely knowing his name by the time he walks out the front door (after checking the locks on your windows) and that's that.

until it isn't because a text from johnny awakens your phone screen, an invite to a restaurant downtown next saturday, one you've only ever fancied of eating at and well-

a date is a date, isn't it?

you tell him to pick you up at seven and he tells you to wear something you wouldn't mind letting him keep underneath, preferably something in red. (must've seen that particular number while you looked for some sleeping shorts before he left that night.)

hopefully you won't feel too bad breaking things off with whoever doesn't ask you to be theirs first.

(simon and johnny fuck each other to the thought of you back at base, simon's fist viciously tight around johnny's cock as he's got him drooling into the flattened pillow, almost like she's fucking you too, eh, johnny?)

#the prompt was you having sex with them and worrying about how to keep them unaware of each other #meanwhile they're in cahoots baby #two peas in a pod #ghoap x reader #ghoap x female reader #ghoap x you #cod smut #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader

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ladamedusoif · 2 years ago

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the tongue?!

Pedro Pascal in Triple Frontier

Pilot boy

#i can’t cope #his profile #the concentration #that curl of hair at his cheekbone in the first one #*screams into pillow*#frankiiiiiiiiiiie #triple frontier #pedro pascal

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thundersoothers · 1 month ago

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john price, his wife, and... the dog (derogatory)

who: John Price x wife!reader

what: inspired by this thought about john price being an absolutely softie for his wife. continued here!

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of cheating but it’s NOT TRUE! you’ll see… just fluff that reallyyyyy makes me want to marry this man.

It’s 2AM on a Saturday in the summer when John Price thinks he hears his wife cheating on him.

“Shhh!! You have to be quiet, you’ll wake up my husband.”

He opens his heavy eyes to see the TV paused at the end credits of some movie he can’t even remember the name of. The screen reflects in the crystal of the empty rocks glass on the coffee table next to his feet, holding only a warm whiskey stone.

He groans and stretches, his old t-shirt riding up to show a dark happy trail disappearing into low-waisted flannel pajama pants. He has one sock on with a hole in the toe. You told him to get rid of them and got him a pack of 20 of the same sock (he’s very particular about his socks), but he still wears these ones, anyway.

“Stop moving, I’m trying to concentrate here. Damn lock… can never— oh, shit. Heh. Wrong key.”

He can hear you muttering and giggling and the scratch of the key against the lock as you struggle to get it in.

It’s your girls’ night and he likes to wait up for you to make sure you get in safely. He saw you off around 8PM, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as you took a shot of tequila. You planted a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark that he didn’t bother to fully wipe off.

“Sorry, I know you’re eager to get inside. I bet you’re so cold, all naked. Here, you can go in my dress, is that better? Fu—ow! Don’t bite my tit, Jesus! Sharp teeth…”

Price suddenly feels much more awake. He pushes himself up from the couch and starts to walk to the foyer.

“This damn door… ah! There we go.”

The door creaks open and he hears you tiptoe inside in your heels (wearing heels and tiptoeing—are two actions that are mutually exclusive, especially when you’re plastered).

“Remember, we have to be quiet. My husband waits for me to get home, we don’t want to wake him up. He’s very nice, you see, but he can’t know you’re here.”

Apparently, you have gotten home safely—with an extra guest who just bit at your tit. And you’re being louder than your guest, who you keep telling to be quiet.

“My husband is gonna be soooo mad. He’s gonna be so mad at me, but once he sees how cute you are, I think he’ll forgive me. He’ll understand. I had to. I just had to!”

He hears rustling as he gets closer to the foyer, you fumbling around in the dark.

“Stay there, don’t move, okay? Stay, yeah? You know that, don’t you? Mummy will teach you if not. Just stay right there. Lemme get these damn heels off…”

There’s an odd sound of something quickly clicking on hardwood floor that makes his eyebrows furrow, and then you gasp—

“Wait, don’t run—“

Bang!

You groan loudly.

Price flicks on the lights.

You’re lying face down on the rug. You have one heel on. The second heel is twisted around your other foot—what you fell over. Your little dress is flipped up over your ass and your arms are outstretched.

“You okay there, love?” John asks, torn between amusement and concern. You just groan. “Sounded like you fell pretty hard.”

“I tripped,” you say into the rug, sounding very sad.

“You hurt?” he asks. “Anything broken?”

You shake your head and curl up a little. “I’ll just sleep here.”

He laughs softly. “Come on, none of that.”

“It’s so comfortable. I’ll just—“

There’s that clicking sound again and he’s almost startled by the abruptness of your movement. You push yourself up with one arm, stretch the other out and fucking snatch the quick-moving little brown blob that’s moving toward you. You pull it to your chest and cradle it, shielding it from John’s view.

He blinks. “What you got there, love?” he asks after a second.

“Nothing,” you say innocently.

“Right.” He crosses his arms, looking you over. “Who were you talking to just now?”

“No one,” you say quickly. “Myself.”

“Right,” John says again slowly. “Show me what you have.”

You look over your shoulder up at him through your lashes, vision blurry. “No. You’re gonna be mad.”

“Just show me.”

“Promise you won’t be mad.”

He sighs. “I won’t be mad.” You give him a look. He sighs again. You’re wasted—he can tell by your eyes. They’re unfocused and heavy. “Promise. Now show me.”

You look down at whatever you’re holding to your chest. “Okay,” you whisper (to your tits?), “you need to be very well-behaved, okay? No biting, please. Be very nice for Daddy so he will like you, okay? Can you do that? Yes? Okay.”

You glance up at John again over your shoulder and then turn yourself around in a very clumsy movement. Then, as if presenting whatever it is like you’re Mufasa from the Lion King, you lift it up in the air toward your husband.

It’s a puppy.

It’s quiet.

The little dog wriggles in your hands, wagging his tail so hard his whole body shakes. He barks up at John, high pitched. A small pink tongue lolls out of his mouth.

It’s still quiet.

You lower the dog a little so you can look up at John. “You said you wouldn’t be mad!”

“I’m not mad,” John says, sounding mad.

“You look mad.”

“I’m not mad,” he says again. “It’s just… dirty.”

You gasp. “He’s not dirty!” you exclaim, sounding offended on behalf of the dog. You pull him to your chest. “He’s just a little mangey, you see. But that’s okay. It can be fixed. You know—they have medicine for that. Or lotion, or whatever it is. He’s very nice, John, I swear. I know he’s a little… skrunkly but he’s very cute and—ow! That’s my hair, no biting Mummy, please.”

“You’re already calling yourself his Mummy?” he asks, bemused, eyebrow raised at you. Yep. You’re fucking wasted.

“Yes, and you’re his Daddy.” You hold the dog up again, this time facing him toward you. “I think you’re very cute, puppy. You’ll grow on Daddy. Just be very good for him, you can do that, can’t you? Yes, you can.” You whisper, as if John isn’t standing right there, “We’ll wear him down. Don’t worry.”

“I thought it was something else,” Price says.

“What did you think it was?” you ask, not looking away from the dog.

“Where did you find it?” he asks instead of answering.

This is much better than what his traitorous mind momentarily supplied. You, cheating? As if.

How silly of him to even think that. For a moment, his stomach twists with the guilt of doubting you. He should have known better.

Of course it’s this. What else could it have been?

A puppy.

A puppy!

“Oh, hello, there.”

You crouch down in your dress and heels and hold out your hand to the little puppy emerging from the bushes by the side of the road.

“What are you doing here, all alone? Come here, love, I won’t hurt you. Come on, puppy, come to me. Yeahhh, there we go. Oh, look at you. You’re so cute. You’re all mangey, though. Oh,” you say pitifully, “you little baby.”

You’re drunk as fuck at 2AM on a Saturday in the summer, halfway through your walk home from the bar, squatting in the middle of a back road in England, about to cry while petting this puppy clumsily—but he doesn’t seem to mind. He wags his tail and nips at your fingers.

“Where’s your Mummy? You shouldn’t be out here all alone. No collar… oh, goodness, what should I do with you? I don’t want to leave you. I’m not sure what to do.”

He barks at you, high pitched.

You nod at him seriously. “Oh, yes, good point.” He barks again. “Mhm. Yes, yes. I thought so, too. Exactly right.”

He runs in a circle around you.

“What are you, a month? You should be with your Mum, you shouldn’t be all alone. Oh, you little baby, you must be so scared.” (He’s wagging his tail.)

“It’s so cold.” (It’s summer.)

“Maybe you can come home with me?” (Your husband would be so mad.)

“Yes,” you decide. “You’ll come home with me.” (Your husband is going to be so mad.)

That’s how you end up stumbling home with a puppy in your arms, rambling to him about yourself and your life.

“Well, puppy, my name is Mrs. Price. I’m from around here. I live in a nice three bedroom house with my husband, I think you’ll like it very much. It’s very cute. He let me decorate it. He doesn’t understand feng shui, you see. You should see his office, puppy, it’s so bland. No taste for interior design.”

“Our house is only 10 more minutes away. See that big tree there? That means we only have 10 minutes left until we’re home. I’m not great with street names, you see, so I go by landmarks.” He barks. “Yes, yes, you get it.”

“Anyway. So, I’m—stop wiggling please, Mummy’s going to drop you—I’m married to a very nice man named John. I love him very much. You’ll like him, too,” you tell him seriously, “he’s very likable. I like lots of things about him, puppy. Actually, I like everything about him.”

“He says I can’t have a dog, though. He says it’s for my own good—booooo. Boo! But maybe we can sneak you in. What do you think, puppy? Should we do that? I think we should do that. We’ll have to be very quiet, though. Very quiet.”

“John waits for me to get home safely—he’s so nice, he’s so kind to me, I love him sooooo much—but we have to make sure not to wake him up. This is one of them—uh, covert operations. He’s very well-versed in those. My husband is very talented, puppy, he’s a Captain. So we’ll have to be extra careful.”

And that’s how you end up trying to sneak into your own house and then trip over your shoe and fucking slam! your face on the rug.

“Where did you find it?” John asks you as you sit on the floor after you presented the dog to him.

“On the way home from the bar, kind of my that big tree.”

“By Notting Street?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Notting Str—I dunno. Maybe? I just know the big tree. The one with all the branches.”

“‘The one with all the branches,’” he repeats, nodding slowly. “Right.”

“But he was there all alone so I took him home. I couldn’t leave him, John, he’s so little. And he’s very cute, look at his little ears? And his little feet? His toes are soooo small. His little teeth are sharp, though—like a shark. Fuckin’ hurt, he almost bit my tit off.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“You heard? Oh. I was trying to be quiet. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

He smiles at you. “I know.”

You smile back.

“Give me the dog.”

You frown. “No.”

“The dog, please.”

“No.” You hold him tighter. “You’ll take him from me.”

“Well,” he says, “yes.”

You sigh heavily. “Be gentle.” You hand him to John and he takes him in one hand and holds him out, frowning, as if it’s offended him.

A puppy.

“Can we keep him?” you ask hopefully.

He glances at you and then back to the puppy and then back to you and then back to the puppy. “No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“But…” You trail off and he looks back down at you. You’re starting to tear up.

“Oh—love, don’t cry.”

“He’s so little and soft and nice and he’s all mangey and he’s all alone and he’s just a little baby and…”

“Okay, okay, darling, we can keep him.”

(By that, he means you’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober, and by ‘talk about it’, he means, ‘no.’)

“Really?!” you gasp.

The way your face fucking lights up makes John pause. For a second, he almost feels like he lost his balance.

“Oh, John, really? Oh, thank you so much! Puppy, did you hear that? Daddy said yes! See, he’s very nice, just like I told you, remember? He’s very nice and kind and he’s very handsome and I love him very much, and I—“

“The dog can’t understand you.”

“You don’t know that,” you say defensively.

He looks down at you. “Right.”

You stare up at him, standing over you as you sit on the floor. “How are you handsome even from this angle?” You frown deeper. “Stupid face,” you mutter.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Let’s get you up.”

“I’m so comfortable.”

“Hand.” He tucks the dog under his arm and extends his other hand toward you. He crooks his long, thick fingers at you. “Now.”

You look between his hand and his face, and then slip your hand into his.

“Good girl.”

He fucking yanks you up and, in one movement that’s somehow graceful, bends down and throws you over his shoulder.

He, naturally, slaps your ass and you squeal. “Hey!!”

You kick your feet (still with only one heel on) and he laughs, resting his hand on your hip, heavy fingers digging into the plush of your butt, as he makes his way up the stairs with you on his shoulder and the dog in his hand.

Gently, he drops you onto the bed and you fall back with an oof! and stare up at him.

“Well,” Price drawls, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You grin. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He takes off your shoe (singular), your dress, and your makeup as you hold the dog, curled up, on your chest.

“You’re so good to me, John,” you say, your eyes closed. “I’m so lucky. I don’t know how I got so lucky. And, you, puppy,” you mumble, petting him slowly, “you’re so lucky, too. You’re about to have the best Daddy in the world. He’s so good to us.”

“‘Puppy’ is asleep,” John says. “And,” he adds, scooping him up in one hand, “puppy is not sleeping in the bed.”

You just groan, too tired and drunk to argue.

He holds the dog out in the air again, turning him around and upside down to examine him. He yips and wriggles in his hands, but John shushes him. “Hush now. Your Mummy is asleep.” He shakes his head and sighs. “What am I going to do with you?”

He takes the dog to the bathroom and puts him down on the floor. His paws slip a little on the cold tile. John puts his hands on his hips, staring down at the dog. “I can’t believe this.”

He reaches over to turn on the heated floor (which he got installed for you) and says to the dog, “You are so, so damn lucky I love your Mummy.”

In the morning, despite John Price’s best efforts to say no to you, you end up convincing him to keep the dog. He’s a military Captain but the pleading of his wife is enough to make him crumble.

The happiness on your face when he finally says yes, makes him wonder why he ever said no in the first place.

note: thank you for reading! this is my first time posting in years–and in a totally new fandom. thank you for your patience and your support. let me know your thoughts! merry christmas!

posted 12.26.2024. revised 01.02.2025.

do not repost or modify any of my original words on any other platform.

to masterlist.

#john price #john price x reader #call of duty #call of duty imagine #cod imagine #john price smut #well wait I guess not #for once #lux.writes #lux.price #john price fic #john price drabble #call of duty fic #I haven't done tags in forever what else do I do #call of duty smut #price #price.wife #price cod

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cloutoru · 4 months ago

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“juuuust like that baby, you’re doing so good,” gojo satoru sighed, his brows furrowed as another deep sigh starts leaving his lips the second he feels your hands work just the way he loves.

“yeah? like that baby?” you ask, watching his hands move up to his face as a low groan escapes him. his body tenses up as you keep on going, thighs flexing unintentionally beneath you.

he nods in response, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted as you lick your own in concentration.

though, you sigh, “toru, you need to relax for me if you want me to release all this tension in your thigh.”

he nods once more, “yeah, sorry baby.”

a moment later you’re done with the massage you had promised him, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you start to realize how all of this was actually sounding. “god, satoru.. all of this could be so taken out of context,” you laugh, watching him open his eyes as a sly smile curls into his lips.

the silhouette of the sorcerer is laid out in front of you in just his boxers. his sculptured back against the headboard of your bed, strong thighs beneath your hands and a body that looks like it’s carved by the gods themselves.

“i’ve got no idea what you’re talking about sweetheart.”

a hum slips past his lips as he grabs you by your forearms and pulls you up to his lap with ease.

“you hands just work wonders,” he says with a smile, his own hands moving to the plush of your hips, giving them a nice squeeze as you lean down to his level.

your lips are dangerously close to his as you giggle softly in reply, “they’re just always eager to make you feel good.”

your hands trail from his shoulders down his abs, your nails grazing his skin, feeling chills run down his body as a breathy chuckle escapes him. “i know they are baby, mine are feeling juuust the same..”

and a second later you feel the flat surface of his hand hit your ass roughly and sharply.

you let out a breathy moan as you shoot forward a little, a scoff leaving your lips after as you give him a pointed look, the corners of your lips curling up, “really?”

he shows off his stupidly pretty smile and nods, squeezing the flesh of your hips once again as he leans towards you the slightest bit, “you complaining?”

you shake your head softly, tilting your head the opposite of his as your lips just barely touch. “oh i wouldn’t dare.”

“mhmm, good. now c’mon, gimme a kiss.”

and of course, you give him what he asks for.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo satoru #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jjk reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you

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fairy-angel222 · 10 months ago

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𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 𐙚⋆.˚

Choso loves to make to squirt. Refusing to slow down the harsh snapping of his hips as you mewl underneath him. Your hands being held above your head while he fucks you meanly. Small beads of sweat coating his forehead from his concentration.

Rolling his hips with every thrust at the perfect angle. Pride swelling in his chest when your body continued to tremble. Shaky cries escaping your swollen lips as you moan for him. Your chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“C-choso— ahh, ‘s too much. ‘M so- nngh… ‘m so sensitive.” You cry, fresh tears sitting prettily on your lashes before running down your heated cheeks. Choso leaning down to kiss them away with a smile.

“I know baby— haah, ‘m s-sensitive too. So sensitive.” He breathed with a moan. “Love this pussy so much, wanna see her squirt f’me. Please make her squirt f’me.”

You let out a choked whine, back arching as yet another orgasm swelled in your stomach. You soft sobs of his name only fueling his drive as he kept his pace strong. Hammering into you with his free hand on your clit. The contact to the overly sensitive bud pulling a short scream past your lips.

“O-oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, ‘m— fuckk.” You let your head fall back into the sheets. Vision blurred with tears as your lips parted in the sweetest whimpering moans. Clenching down on Choso with a final cry of his name.

“Hmmm, let it out, please let it out.” He begged, face sinking into your neck to breathe you in with a cracked moan. “Need you to let it out f’ me.”

He could feel you shake underneath him as loud noises dripped off your tongue, your toes curling the second you felt it wash over you. Letting out a silent scream as your pussy gushed messily. Your slick dripping off your boyfriend’s cock while you drenched his thighs. “Y-yes, oh shit— that’s it. Thank you so much baby.” Lewd wet sounds beginning to arise when he kept going.

“Chosooo, i thought we were done,” you sniffled, glossed eyes meeting his matching ones.

“W-we are, i promise. Just gotta— f-fuck.” He allowed himself to fall onto you when his body quivered lightly, eyes rolling back with a string of groans as he buried himself deep in you. A small stripe of drool running past his lips and onto your skin as his cock twitched against your walls. Pumping you full with thick spurts of his sticky cum.

Now he was done.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk choso #choso x reader smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso

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simonbrain · 4 months ago

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simon being delusional and pretending he's in a relationship with you because he has no game and can't work up the courage to approach you. maybe you're someone average and unimportant—like the waitress at the pub he frequents—but you've caught his attention, and he can't stop thinking about you.

he hasn't really interacted with you because he's always sitting at the bar with the rest of the boys, but you're sweet and polite, and he can't help the flurry of daydreams that rush through his mind.

he thinks about taking you home after your shift and nodding as if he's listening to you ramble about your night, but really he's concentrating on the soft rumble of your voice. he thinks about cleaning your tired face in the bathroom while you're perched up on the sink, a hand cupping your face to keep you upright while he quietly admires your pretty features. he thinks about dragging you into bed and holding you close to him, offering all the warmth you deserve as you curl up against his side.

he's got his head so far up his arse that when you actually approach this intimidating man who's been boring holes into your head to ask if he's alright, he kind of just short-circuits because you're actually speaking to him? there's no way his perfect girl is right here in front of him. he must be dreaming.

he doesn't realise he's just staring until you clear your throat and nervously say if he should ever need your help, to just ask. and then you're speed-walking off, praying he doesn't take you up on your offer. meanwhile, he's mentally playing russian roulette with a fully loaded gun because how did he fuck that up?

#awkward simon my beloved #meet cute to make up for the filth i've been dropping #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #rainwrites 𐙚

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lacydollette · 1 month ago

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after bf!rafe surprises doll!reader by buzzing off his hair, she can't keep her hands to herself, feeling extremely horny whenever she looks at him

warnings: rafe x fem!reader, pure smut, praise, little degradation, making out, tit sucking, oral (fem receiving), face riding, explicit language, 18+

You lay sprawled on the lounger at tannyhill, sipping iced coffee, and scrolling lazily through your phone while tanning. You knew Rafe was up early today and had been out running errands for Ward, but he'd been gone for hours, and you were really starting to miss him. Just as you were considering calling him, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house. You perked up, stretching lazily "About time, ray! How dare you keep me waiting so long.”

But when Rafe stepped into the room, you froze. Your mouth fell open slightly, sunglasses sliding down your nose as you took in the sight of him. His hair—his perfectly tousled, dirty-blond hair was gone. Completely buzzed down to almost nothing.

The sharp angles of his jawline, the slope of his cheekbones, and his ocean-blue eyes were suddenly the stars of the show, all of his features more prominent than ever. "Holy shit," you muttered, standing up slowly. Rafe smirked, trying to play it cool as he tossed his keys onto the counter. "What? You don't like it?"

"Are you kidding me?" You gasped, crossing the room in a daze. Your fingers reached out instinctively, brushing over the soft, short stubble of his buzzed hair. "You look... different." His grin widened as your hand lingered on his head while his found the curve of your ass. "Different good or different bad?"

You teasingly bit your lip, "Good," eyes locked on his. "Really, really good." Your fingers drifted down to his jaw, and you tilted your head, studying him like he was a work of art. "It makes your eyes pop even more. God, Rafe, why didn't you do this sooner?" He chuckled, taking your wrist and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. "Didn't know I needed your approval to change things up."

"You don't," you said quickly. "But, wow. Like, really, wow." Rafe’s ego was definitely fueled by your words, your approval meaning everything to him.

Everything else passed in a blur, but you couldn't keep your eyes, or your hands, off of your boyfriend. Every time he passed by, you reached out to touch his head or his face, not believing how effortlessly handsome he looked, stealing kisses amost every minute. And Rafe—well let’s face it. He absolutely loved it.

A little later, you were curled up on one end of the couch, watching Rafe as he sat on the other. He was sprawled out, completely manspreading right infront of you. Fucking tease. His phone was in his hand, and he looked completely absorbed in whatever he was doing. His jaw clenched slightly as he concentrated, his brows furrowing just enough to make him look impossibly sexy.

You couldn't take it anymore.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you jumped up and crawled over to him, grabbing his phone and tossing it onto the cushion beside him. "Hey, what the-" Rafe started, but his words were cut off as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Your hands were on his face in an instant, lips crashing against his in a heated kiss.

Rafe froze for half a second before groaning against your mouth, his hands sliding up your plush thighs to grip your waist. "You're killing me, Rafe," you murmured breathlessly between kisses, your fingers threading through the short stubble of his buzzed hair. "You look so fucking good. I can't even think straight."

"Yeah?" he rasped, his voice low and teasing. "Is that why you're humping my leg like a bitch in heat right now?" You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes dark with desire. "Shut up," you whispered, kissing him again.

Rafe growled against your lips as the kiss deepened, both of you losing yourselves in the heat of the moment. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders and down his chest, your red nails scraping lightly against the fabric of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. His hands were just as eager, gripping your hips firmly, pulling you flush against him as your bodies rubbed against each other.

"Doll," he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and full of want. Without warning, Rafe's hands slid under your thighs, gripping you firmly as he stood up in one fluid motion, taking you with him. You gasped, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you toward his bedroom. "You're not playing fair," you teased, breathless, as your arms looped around his neck. "Fair's overrated," Rafe shot back, smirking as he kicked the door shut behind him.

He tossed you onto his bed, your hair splaying out across his pillows as you landed with a soft gasp. Before you could say a word, he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion, revealing his toned chest and making your heart race even faster. He was on you in seconds, his hands braced on either side as he hovered over you, his ocean-blue eyes dark with hunger.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again. Your hands roamed over his bare chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle and pressing against his warm skin. You arched into him, your body craving every bit of contact you could get. His lips moved down to your neck, nipping and sucking just enough to leave faint marks.

As his hands slid under your top, pulling it up and over your head, you let out a soft whimper, desire building with every touch. Rafe pulled back slightly, his gaze raking over you, taking in the sight of your perky tits. You were perfect. He immediately leaned in, capturing one of your nipples between his lips. You tugged him closer, nails digging into his shoulders as you whimpered out, "I need you, Rafe."

His breath hitched at the raw need in your voice, his hands sliding down your sides as he licked and sucked all over your chest, his touch leaving your cunt aching for him. "Tell me what you want," he said against your skin, rough and low. You pressed your head into the pillow, biting down on your bottom lip, "I want to sit on your face."

Rafe froze for half a second before a devilish grin spread across his lips. "Yeah?" he said, his voice laced with amusement and excitement. You nodded eagerly, licking your lips as you looked up at him with anticipation. "Whatever you want, Doll," he said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned back, settling himself against the pillows and pulling you with him “Come here."

Your pulse raced as you straddled his chest, hands braced on his shoulders as you hovered over him. Rafe's hands slid up your thighs, his digits pulling the soft lace of your soaked panties to the side. "Shit—you’re drippin’, baby.” he murmured, his blue eyes locked on your as you positioned yourself over him.

Rafe’s hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he kissed your inner thighs, his touch sending sparks through your entire body. You threw your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips at Rafe's teasing. He didn’t waste anymore time though, his tongue lapping through your wet folds, leaving you gasping for air.

“Such a sweet fucking pussy.” he mumbled quietly, his hot breath against your core sent shivers down your spine. You gripped the headboard for balance, head tilted back, a soft cry escaping your lips as you shuddered against him.

"ray—oh my god," you whimpered, voice shaky as you rutted your soaking cunt against him, his lips wrapping around your sensitive nub, sucking and circling his tongue as if his life depended on it. Your fingers instinctively drifted to his buzz cut, the soft, bristly feel of it only adding to your overwhelming senses. You couldn't stop touching it, letting your nails lightly scrape across his scalp as you rocked against him.

"That.." you breathed, voice trembling, "feels so fucking good." The sound of your voice, so needy and desperate, only spurred him on. His grip on you tightened, helping to drag your cunt against his tongue. “you’re gonna make a mess for me, baby?” he groaned, his blue eyes looking up at you from between your legs. You nodded hastily, the band in your lower stomach about to snap as Rafe moaned against your clit. within moments, you fell apart completely, body trembling as you released all over him, moaning out his name.

You were panting as Rafe lapped up your juices, overstimulating your poor cunt as your legs trembled, “Shit.” Carefully sliding off of him, you leaned down and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands found his head again, fingers stroking the soft buzz as your body pressed close to his. "You really can't stop touching it, huh?" he teased, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. You grinned, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm. "Can you blame me? You look so good, rafey. It's actually insane."

He chuckled, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "If l'd known buzzing my head would make you act like a needy little slut, I would've done it a long time ago." You rolled your eyes, yet you couldn’t help the tingling sensation in between your legs. "I'm serious," he murmured, smirking. "I'm definitely keeping it now. If this is what I get, l'm never growing it out again."

"You better not," you teased back. Rafe let out a low chuckle, but his amusement faded quickly as your lips attached themselves to his jawline, your eagerness reawakening. Your teeth grazed his neck before you pulled back to meet his gaze. "I want more, Rafe." His blue eyes darkened, and a cocky smirk spread across his lips.

"You want more, huh? Still can’t get enough of that shit?"

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