#i can barely get out of bed on a good day. i've been feeling this way for months.

[buckets-and-trees]

I am even more excited about Fridays because of you and Presidential Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. I’m so looking forward to how everything turns out with those two!

Well, nonnie, we're finally back!

Red, White & True: Tuscon & Denver [12/?]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, side of Bucky and Sam Word Count: 4.7k Summary: Your mom joins the campaign trail.

Content/Warnings: political policy discussion, marriage of political convenience, slow burn, really the slowest burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Author Notes: For the seventh day of the Valentine Storygrams!

Previous Chapter | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[OCTOBER 12 - TUCSON, ARIZONA]

The tension between your mother and Steve simmers beneath the surface over the next two hours. You try to keep things light, showing your mother around campaign bus and introducing her to more of the staff. But there's an undercurrent of unease that you can't shake.

At the hotel the campaign’s logistical director has managed to assign adjoined rooms to you and your mom. After changing into your pajamas, you knock on the door that connects you, and a moment later your mom opens up. The two of you sit on one of the queen beds and begin to talk, just the two of you. There’s much less tension, and she gives you stories and updates about family and friends and old neighbors from your old home. You soak up the nostalgia, but it also feels strange to hear about all the normal things happening - so opposite from your whirlwind days and weeks on the campaign.

Your phone buzzes with a message, and you pause your conversation briefly to check what it says. “It’s just a couple of logistical updates for tomorrow morning,” you say, before looking back up.

When you do, you see your mother’s expression has changed. Now she’s watching you with a pensive expression as she rests against the pillows piled up in front of the headboard.

“What is it?” you prod.

"Honey," she begins, her voice careful. "Are you sure about all this?"

"What do you mean?"

You knew at some point the two of you were due to have this conversation. It’s a conversation that had begun to grow into an argument that had been deterred only by your father father insisting that the two of you not get into it on your wedding day.

She sighs, smoothing invisible wrinkles from the bedspread. "This campaign. Running for office. It's just so much pressure, so much scrutiny. After what happened with those awful photos, I can't help but worry about you. Is this really what you want?"

You take a deep breath, considering your words carefully. "Mom, I know it's not an easy path. But yes, this is what I want. I believe in Steve and what he stands for. And I believe I can make a difference by his side."

Your mother's brow furrows. "But at what cost? Your privacy, your peace of mind? I saw how those false accusations affected you - it’s why I’m here, why Steve called and asked me to come. And that's just the beginning. If Steve wins, your whole life will be under a microscope."

You nod, acknowledging her concerns. "I know. And it's not always easy. But Mom, the good we can do outweighs the challenges. I've seen firsthand how Steve inspires people, how he brings out the best in them. The plans he intends to put into action based on what he wants to do for the people? I want to be part of that."

She shakes her head slightly. "But honey, you barely knew him when you got married. And now you're in the middle of this huge campaign. Don't you think it's all happening a bit fast?"

You can't help but bristle at her words, even as you try to understand her perspective. "Mom, I know it seems fast from the outside. But Steve and I... we've been through so much together already. The campaign has only brought us closer."

Your mother reaches out, taking your hand in hers. "I just worry about you, sweetheart. I’ll always worry about you. I want you to be happy."

"I am happy, Mom," you say, squeezing her hand. "Yes, there are challenges, but I'm doing something I believe in."

She studies your face for a long moment, then nods slowly. "I can see that. I just... I guess I'm still trying to wrap my head around all of this. My little girl, potentially becoming the First Lady of the United States."

You chuckle softly. "Trust me, I still don’t feel like that could be real, even though getting Steve elected is our only goal and fuels everything we do. I’m glad you’re here - you’ll be able to see what we do, and what I’ve seen while we do it.”

You can see your mother's expression soften slightly as she listens, though you can sense there is more she’s still thinking about.

"Tell me more about what you've seen," she says, leaning forward slightly. "What's it really been like out there on the campaign trail?"

You can't help but smile, feeling a surge of enthusiasm as you begin to share your experiences.

"Oh Mom, it really is incredible," you say, your voice filled with wonder. "We've been to so many places, met so many amazing people. There was this small town in Iowa where the entire community came out to hear Steve speak. They had handmade signs and everything. And in Detroit, we visited this incredible urban farm that's providing fresh produce to food deserts in the city."

Your mother listens intently as you continue, describing the passionate volunteers who work tirelessly for the campaign that you’re meeting across the country, the vibrant energy of rallies in big cities, the intimate town halls in small communities, and the countless conversations with people you never would have met across every pocket of America.

"We met this incredible woman in New Mexico who's been fighting for clean water rights for her community for decades. And in Florida, we toured a cutting-edge renewable energy facility that's creating jobs and combating climate change. Every day, I'm learning so much about the issues facing our country and the innovative solutions people are developing."

You tell her about the late-night strategy sessions with the campaign team, the thrill of seeing poll numbers climb, and the humbling moments when you've comforted supporters who've shared their personal struggles.

"It sounds amazing," your mother admits, a hint of awe in her voice. "I can see why you're so passionate about it all."

You nod eagerly. "It really is, Mom. I feel like I'm part of something so much bigger than myself."

Your mother's expression softens further, a mix of pride and concern in her eyes. "I can see how much this means to you, sweetheart. And I'm proud of you for being so passionate and dedicated." She pauses, squeezing your hand. "But I want you to remember something important."

You tilt your head, waiting for her to continue.

"You are still important," she says firmly. "You, as an individual, not just as Steve's wife or as part of this campaign. Don't lose yourself in all of this."

Her words remind you of something Helen Santos once said to you, about the importance of maintaining your own identity amidst the whirlwind of the campaign. You nod, acknowledging the truth in her statement.

"I know. I'm trying to keep that balance. It's not easy, but I'm learning."

She squeezes your hand gently. "And what about that awful photo scandal? Are you really okay? I know you’ve shown such a put-together and brave face for the media, and even for me tonight, but I’m your mother, you don’t need to be strong for me."

You take a deep breath, feeling a familiar tightness in your chest at the mention of the incident. It’s surreal to believe it only happened yesterday morning.

"It was hard, Mom. Really hard," you admit, your voice catching slightly. "When I first saw those photos, I felt like the ground had disappeared beneath my feet. I was terrified, embarrassed, and angry all at once. It was like my world had been yanked out from under me."

You take a shaky breath, feeling the echo of the emotions of that moment. "I couldn't stop thinking about all the people who would see those photos, judge me, make assumptions about who I am. For a while, I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was terrified it would derail everything we've worked for - and all the worse because the photos aren’t even real."

Your mother wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You lean into her embrace, grateful for her presence.

You continue, "But then, as we dealt with the fallout, as I spoke with our team and supporters, I realized that this wasn't just about me or the campaign. It was about a much bigger issue - the lack of understanding and support for women's health in our country."

You pause, feeling a surge of passion as you continue. "It’s only been a day since I’ve started to learn more, and I’m just stunned by the amount of things I did’t know, Mom. Like did you know that it takes an average of seven to ten years for a woman to be diagnosed with endometriosis? Or that heart attack symptoms in women are often dismissed as anxiety?”

Your mother nods, her eyes widening. "I remember when your Aunt Sarah was struggling with her symptoms for years before they finally diagnosed her fibromyalgia. The doctors kept telling her it was just stress or depression."the

"Exactly!" you exclaim. "And it's not just about diagnosis. It's about research funding, access to care, and education. Did you know that for decades, most medical research was conducted primarily on men? Even in animal studies, they used male rats and mice. It means we have huge gaps in our understanding of how diseases and treatments affect women differently."

As you speak, you feel a familiar fire igniting within you. It's the same passion that drove you to join Steve's campaign in the first place - the desire to make a real difference in people's lives.

"And then there's the stigma," you continue, your words tumbling out faster now. "So many women's health issues are shrouded in shame and silence. Menstrual health, fertility struggles, menopause - these are all normal parts of women's lives, but we barely talk about them openly. And don't even get me started on maternal mortality rate in the United States. It's shockingly high for a developed country, especially for women of color. Black women are three to four times more likely to die from pregnancy-related complications than white women. It's a crisis that's not getting nearly enough attention."

You pause, taking a breath. "The more I learn, the more I realize how much needs to change, and if Steve gets elected, this will be one of my initiatives as First Lady.”

Your mother's eyes widen as she listens to you speak, a mixture of pride and admiration crossing her face. "Honey, I had no idea you'd become so… well, I’m... I'm just so impressed, and I couldn’t agree with you more."

You lean forward, your eyes bright with excitement. "I've been thinking about how we could approach this. We could start with a nationwide listening tour, hearing directly from women about their experiences with the healthcare system. We could partner with medical schools to promote more inclusive research practices. And we could launch a public awareness campaign to break down the stigma.”

Your mother's enthusiasm is palpable, and you can see the wheels turning in her mind as she absorbs all the information you've shared. Suddenly, an idea strikes you, and you feel a surge of excitement coursing through your veins.

"Mom," you begin, your voice brimming with anticipation, "You've always been so passionate about women, about building strong communities, and you have such a way with words. Would you maybe... want to help us build out the messaging for this initiative while you're here?"

Her eyes widen, a mix of surprise and delight dancing across her features. "Me? But you know I'm not a political strategist or a healthcare expert."

You shake your head, grinning. "That's why you would be great! We have plenty of experts and strategists. We need is heads in the room who can translate all of the complexities into real-woman information. And this could be ongoing - after you go home, you could coordinate and consult remotely easy as anything.”

Your mother's eyes light up, a smile spreading across her face. "Oh honey, I would love that. I've… I haven’t really said this to anyone, but I’ve been starting to wonder what I could do that would mean something getting older, and this feels like something I could really contribute to."

You feel a small lump in your throat at her admission - something that clearly had been worrying her - and now you’re even more enthusiastic about how things are developing with this initiative. Not only has your mother begun to understand your passion for the opportunity this campaign and opportunity could bring, but she's now eager to be a part of it.

"Oh, Mom! I can't wait to introduce you to the team and get your insights. We could start tomorrow morning if you're up for it."

She nods enthusiastically. "Absolutely. I'll need to brush up on some of these issues, but I'm ready to dive in."

You continue to discuss potential ideas and strategies, and you feel a shift in the energy between you and your mother. The tension from earlier - from the months since you married Steve, honestly - has dissipated, replaced by a shared sense of purpose and excitement.

You and your mother continue talking late into the night, brainstorming ideas and sharing stories. As the conversation winds down, you feel a deep sense of gratitude wash over you. Not only has your mother come to understand your passion for the campaign, but she's now eager to contribute her own skills and experiences.

"Mom," you say softly, "thank you for being here. For listening and for wanting to be part of this."

She smiles warmly, pulling you into a hug. "Oh, honey. I'm so proud of you. I may not have understood at first, but I can see now how much good you're doing, how much this means to you."

As you settle into bed that night, your mind is buzzing with possibilities. You send a quick text to Steve, updating him on your conversation with your mother and her willingness to help with the women's health initiative. His response is immediate and enthusiastic.

STEVE: That's fantastic! I’m sure your mom's perspective will be invaluable. Can't wait to discuss more tomorrow.💙

You heart flips over his use of the heart emoji, but his response in general makes you smile, loving how your lives are moving forward, your relationship, and the ease you feel to share everything with him now. You’re feeling a renewed sense of purpose and excitement for what lies ahead. As you drift off to sleep, you find yourself imagining the potential impact of this initiative, the lives it could touch, and the changes it could bring.

[OCTOBER 13 - TUCSON, ARIZONA]

The next morning, you wake early, eager to start the day. After a quick shower and getting dressed, you knock on your mother's adjoining door. She answers promptly, already dressed and looking just as excited as you feel.

"Ready for your first official strategy meeting?" you ask with a grin.

Your mother smiles a little nervously, but her eyes are still twinkling with anticipation. "I suppose so. Lead the way."

You guide her down to one of the hotel's conference rooms for the current makeshift campaign headquarters. As you enter, you're greeted by the familiar buzz of activity - staffers huddled over laptops, phones ringing, and the ever-present aroma of coffee.

Steve is already there, engaged in a conversation with the communications team, but he breaks away when he sees you and your mother enter. He strides over, a warm smile on his face.

"Good morning," he says, giving you a quick kiss before turning to your mother. "I'm so glad you're joining the team. Your daughter tells me you have some great ideas for our women's health initiative."

Your mother nods. "Thank you for having me. I'm looking forward to contributing."

And her smile - the real one - is gone.

Oh.

Your eyes flicker to Steve, and although his expression remains open, you notice the note of wariness behind his eyes.

Things had gone so well with your mom you forgot the little issue of her not liking Steve.

As the tension threatens to settle in, you're saved by Mariah, the campaign's health policy advisor, who sweeps into the room with an armful of folders and a tablet balanced precariously on top.

"Oh good, you're all here!" she exclaims, her curly hair bouncing as she sets down her load on the nearest table. "I've got some amazing data from our latest focus groups, and I think it's really going to shape our approach."

Steve checks his watch and grimaces slightly. "I'm afraid I have to leave for that appearance on 'Good Morning Tucson' in half an hour minutes." He turns to you and your mother. "I'm sorry I can't stay, but I'm looking forward to hearing all about it later. I know you'll come up with some fantastic ideas."

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. "No worries, we've got it covered. Good luck at the tv station.”

With a quick squeeze of your hand and a polite nod to your mother, Steve heads out of the room. You turn back to see your mother's smile has become a bit more forced.

"Well," you say brightly, trying to dispel the awkwardness, "shall we get started?"

Mariah nods enthusiastically, gesturing for you and your mother to join her at the table with other members of the team. As you settle in, she begins to lay out the data from the focus groups, explaining the key findings and areas of concern that have emerged.

Your mother listens intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. You can see her analytical mind working, processing the information and forming connections. Despite her initial coolness towards Steve, you can tell she's fully engaged with the topic at hand, and she easily builds rapport with the rest of the team.

[OCTOBER 15 - DENVER, COLORADO]

"Hey, you," you say as you collapse into the seat next to Steve on the campaign bus. It's been a whirlwind few days since leaving Tucson, with back-to-back events across Arizona and New Mexico before arriving in Colorado. Along with interviews and slew of daily meetings, you've barely had a moment to catch your breath, let alone spend any quality time with Steve.

The bus rumbles to life, pulling away from the community center where Steve just finished giving a rousing speech on education reform. Through the tinted windows, you can see the crowd still waving signs and cheering as you depart.

Steve looks up from his tablet, a tired but genuine smile spreading across his face. "Hey yourself," he replies, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "I feel like I haven't seen you in days."

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing glint in your eye. "Oh really? And here I thought you might be avoiding me. Have you perhaps developed an aversion to your lovely wife?"

Your tone is light, but there's a genuine curiosity beneath the playfulness.

Steve chuckles, but you catch a flicker of something—nervousness?—in his eyes. "Avoiding you? Never. How could I possibly want to avoid the most captivating woman in the world?" He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You narrow your eyes and try to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his affection, not quite buying his charm offensive at face value. "Mmm-hmm. So if you're not avoiding me, perhaps you're avoiding someone else? Someone who happens to be my mother?"

Steve's smile falters slightly, and he lets out a small sigh. "Is it that obvious?"

You give him a knowing look.

He runs a hand over his beard. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so transparent. It's just your mother clearly doesn't approve of me, or of our relationship, and I guess I've been trying to avoid giving her more ammunition."

You feel a pang of sympathy for Steve. Your mother's disapproval has been weighing on you too, but you hadn't realized how much it was getting to Steve - your confident husband, the man who seems so fearless and unflagging.

"Steve, I've seen you face down hostile reporters and debate seasoned politicians without breaking a sweat. Hell, you battled Thanos and his legions twice. But every time my mom enters the room, you suddenly have an urgent phone call or meeting to attend."

“Thanos was nothing to your mother.”

You scoff, playing up being very affronted. “Are you really saying my mom is scarier than Thanos?”

He laughs. “Yeah, in a way. I only needed to defeat him, not get on his good side.”

You better angle your body to him, and pull his hand into your lap, holding it in both of yours. You can see he’s thinking, so you keep quiet and let him speak.

“I've been feeling a bit out of my depth with your mom. I know how important she is to you, and I want her to like me, but I can't shake the feeling that she's judging my every move."

You nod, understanding dawning. "She can be a bit intense. She's always been protective of me. And our sudden marriage didn't do anything to ease any potential concerns. I don’t know if she would have been more accepting of the arrangement if I’d handled it differently because… well, it was what it was, but…”

You sigh.

“She was very alarmed over how quickly everything happened, and so I did tell her it was a marriage of political strategy and convenience just before the ceremony. I was trying to reassure her that there was no pressure, nothing to be concerned about, but it didn’t make her any happier, just shifted the nature of her concerns.”

Steve looks at you, his expression a mix of surprise and understanding. "I see. That explains a lot."

You nod, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about that conversation earlier. When it happened, we weren’t really…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize for that. I didn’t foster any real, deeper connection in the beginning.”

“…and then things between us changed so quickly," you continued.

Steve squeezes your hand reassuringly. "Again, no need to apologize. I understand. And you're right, things did change fast between us. I still can't believe how lucky I am."

His words warm your heart, but you can still see the worry in his eyes. "Steve, my mom's opinion is important to me, but it doesn't change how I feel about you. We're in this together, remember?"

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Together. I like the sound of that. More and more every time we say it.”

“Me, too,” you reply.

Suddenly the rumbling of the bus and the chatter of staff members fades away.

Steve's eyes soften as he gazes at you, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the bus windows bathes him in a warm glow, highlighting the flecks of green in his blue eyes and the gentle curve of his lips. You feel a familiar flutter in your chest, a mix of affection and desire that seems to grow stronger with each passing day.

As if drawn by an invisible force, Steve leans forward, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch is feather-light, reverent, as if he's still amazed that he's allowed to touch you like this. You find yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips meet yours.

The kiss starts soft, a gentle press of lips, but quickly deepens as Steve pulls you closer. His beard tickles your skin, a sensation that never fails to send shivers through you.

Steve's lips move against yours with a tenderness that ignites sparks beneath your skin. His hand slides from your cheek to the nape of your neck, and he pulls you closer. The warmth of his body seeps into yours, a comforting heat that makes you feel safe and cherished.

You taste a hint of coffee on his breath, mingled with the spearmint of his favorite gum. The scent of his cologne envelops you, now so familiar and intoxicating. Your free hand hands finds its way to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

The kiss is intense yet affectionate, a perfect balance of passion and emotion. Steve's lips move against yours with a reverence that makes your heart swell, and you find yourself wanting more, but remember where you are.

You break off the kiss, but you want to stay close and so rest your forehead against his, both of you breathing a little heavier. The world around you slowly comes back into focus - the rumble of the bus engine, the murmur of conversations from campaign staff, the whir of laptops. But for a moment longer, you stay in this intimate bubble, savoring the closeness.

You reach up, running your fingers along his jawline, feeling the soft bristles of his beard against your skin. Steve leans into your touch, a contented sigh escaping his lips. You're struck by how vulnerable and real he is in this moment - so different from the candidate the public sees.

"Steve," you say finally, causing his eyes to flutter open. "What do you think about having dinner with my mom tonight?”

Steve's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. "Dinner with your mom. Tonight."

You nod, your hand still resting on his cheek. “She flies home tomorrow.”

Steve nods, a determined look overtaking the apprehension from a moment before.

Steve nods, a determined look settling on his face. "So, what's the plan? Do we have time between events?"

You pull out your phone, quickly scanning the day's schedule. "We have a gap after the Denver Tech Center tour.”

"If your mother tries to throw me out a window, you have to promise to come to my aid."

You laugh, the tension broken. "Deal. Though I think even my mom would have trouble throwing Captain America out a window."

"You'd be surprised," Steve chuckles.

“Maybe Sam will loan the shield back to you,” you tease.

The shield isn’t borrowed, but you do rope Sam, Sophia, and Bucky into having dinner with you as well as your mother has grown incredibly fond of and friendly all of three of them over the past three days.

After you’ve ouly just ordered drinks, Sophia gets a message that the two of you need to step out of the restaurant to take an urgent call about some last-minute campaign trail changes. You catch Sam and Bucky exchanging a meaningful glance, and you try to give them a smile that conveys your appreciation that they’re serving as a buffer.

The matter - in your opinion - is really a non-issue, but Sophia says she thinks she better go consult with the logistics team, and you don’t argue when she’s that determined.

But it makes perfect sense when you step back inside the restaurant and take in the scene before you.

Sam and Bucky are standing in the waiting area, looking slightly sheepish, no sign of your mother or Steve.

"What's going on?" you ask pointedly.

Sam steps forward, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "Now, don't be mad. We thought Steve could use some alone time with your mom."

You feel your heart rate quicken. "You left Steve alone with my mother?"

Bucky nods, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "He's faced down HYDRA and alien invasions. We figured he could handle one mother-in-law."

Sam adds, "Steve's been practicing what he wanted to say to your mom for days. Figured this was as good a time as any."

You're not sure whether to laugh or panic. "How long have they been alone?"

"About five minutes," Sam replies. "We figured we'd give them a few more. Or you two will - I’m going to join someone else for dinner.”

You smirk at him. “Enjoy your meal with Sophia.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he says, handing you an earpiece before walking away.

You stand there for a moment, torn between curiosity and concern. Part of you wants to rush back to the table and make sure everything is okay. But another part knows that Sam and Bucky are right - Steve and your mother need this time alone.

Bucky gently places a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it'll be alright. Steve's got this."

You take a deep breath, nodding. "I know. I just hope she doesn’t swallow him up."

"If it helps, we can listen in," Bucky says with a mischievous grin, tapping his ear to indicate the communication device.

You roll your eyes but can't help the small smile tugging at your lips. Curiosity getting the better of you, you put the earpiece in, Bucky doing the same with his own.

"Okay, just for a minute," you concede, putting the earpiece in.

Steve's voice comes through, clear and steady. "I know our relationship moved quickly, and I understand your concerns."

Your mother's voice follows, her tone measured. "Do you?”

“I know it looks like I swept your daughter into a whirlwind marriage agreement and a high-pressure political campaign. And that is where it all started, but we’re so far beyond that now. It’s become so much more."

"I do know that. And I believe it it, too. I’ve been watching you, you know. Long before I got here, and then of course this week. And I’m perceptive."

Steve pauses, his voice thoughtful when he speaks again. "But you still have reservations about me, don't you?"

There's a moment of silence, and you can almost picture your mother's expression - that slight furrow in her brow she gets when she's carefully considering her words.

"I do," she admits finally, her voice soft but firm. "And I'm trying not to, Steve. I really am."

You hear the clink of glasses, the soft rustle of fabric as someone - probably your mother - shifts in their seat.

"I see the way you look at my daughter," your mother continues. "The way your eyes light up when she enters a room, how you lean towards her when she speaks. I see the gentle touches, the silent conversations you have with just a glance. It's... it's beautiful, really."

Steve's voice is warm when he responds. "She's incredible. But those reservations… I'd like to understand them, if you're willing to share."

Your mother sighs. "It's not just one thing, Steve. It's... well, it's everything. Your past, your public persona, this campaign. I look at you, and I see a man who's lived multiple lifetimes, who's seen and done things I can't even imagine. You've saved the world, for goodness' sake. And my daughter... she's brilliant and strong, but she's also young."

You hear Steve take a deep breath before responding. "I understand those concerns. They're concerns I've had myself. But your daughter, as it turns out, is one of the strongest people I know. She challenges me, supports me, grounds me in ways I never expected. She makes me want to be a better man, a better leader."

There's a pause, and you can almost picture Steve leaning forward, his eyes earnest as he continues. "I know I have a complicated past, and yes, a lot of responsibility. But your daughter isn't overshadowed by that - she shines even brighter alongside it. She's not just along for the ride in this campaign or in our life together. She's my partner in every sense of the word.”

Your mother's voice softens slightly as she responds. "I can see that. I've watched her these past few days, how she's grown into this role. She's always been capable, but now... now she's truly flourishing."

"She is," Steve agrees, warmth evident in his voice. "And I want you to know that I will always support her in that growth. Her dreams, her ambitions - they're just as important as mine."

There's another pause, and you can almost picture your mother nodding slowly, processing Steve's words.

"I appreciate everything you’v said, Steve," she says finally. "And I can see how much you care for my daughter. But I need you to understand something. My daughter - she's always been special. Always been driven to help others, to make a difference. But she's also had her heart broken before. She's been let down by life, everything turned upside down by The Blip."

You feel a pang in your chest at your mother's words, memories of past hurts flashing through your mind.

Your mother's voice becomes softer, more vulnerable. "And I couldn't fix any of that. As her mother, that cut like a knife, and I think... I think I never really took that knife out. I've been carrying it with me, this fear of seeing her hurt again."

You hear her take a shaky breath before continuing. "When she told me about your arrangement, about this whirlwind marriage and campaign, all I could think was, 'Here's another way for her to get hurt.' I was so afraid for her."

There's a pause, and you can almost picture your mother's eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But this week... this week has been eye-opening. I've seen her in her element, passionate and driven. I've watched her tackle complex issues with grace and determination. And I've seen how you two show up for each other. I worried it was all for the public, but I know now it’s not.”

"It’s not," Steve says, his response immediate and resolute. "And I want you to know that I take my commitment to your daughter very seriously. I know I can't promise that she'll never be hurt - life doesn't work that way. But I can promise that I will always be there for her, to support her, to lift her up when she needs it, and to celebrate her successes."

You hear your mother take a deep breath. "I can see that, Steve. I really can. And I... I'm sorry if I've been hard on you. I just want to protect her."

“Then we have that in common.”

“We do,” she agrees. “Just give me time. I always loved Jeff, her first husband, but I can see that we could get there, too, Steve.”

Bucky hands you a handkerchief, his metal arm glinting softly in the warm light of the restaurant's entryway. You hadn't even realized you were crying until you feel the soft cotton against your fingertips. You take it gratefully, dabbing at your eyes as you try to compose yourself.

Bucky's metal arm comes to rest around your shoulders, the weight of it comforting and grounding. You lean into him slightly, grateful for the support as you process the emotional exchange you've just witnessed.

[OCTOBER 16 - DENVER AIRPORT]

The Denver International Airport bustles with activity around you, a cacophony of rolling suitcases, muffled announcements, and hurried conversations. Yet in this moment, your focus narrows to your mother standing before you, her carry-on bag at her feet and a bittersweet smile on her face.

"I'm so glad you came, Mom," you say, your voice thick with emotion. The past few days have been another slew of organized campaign chaos, but having your mother here had been a development you didn’t realize you needed.

She reaches out, cupping your face in her hands, her eyes shining with emotion. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm glad I came too. More than you know."

It was good for you, for her, for repairing pieces of your relationship you knew were strained and things you didn’t.

You lean into her touch, feeling for a moment like a little girl again, safe in your mother's embrace, and her strength as your mother had been the thing you needed most from her.

"I'm so proud of you," your mother says, her voice soft but full of conviction. "The work you're doing, the person you've become... it's more than I knew to hope for - a true new chapter for you."

You feel a lump forming in your throat, overwhelmed by her words. "Thank you, Mom. That means so much to me."

She pulls you into a tight hug, and you breathe in the familiar scent of her perfume, a comforting mix of jasmine and vanilla that instantly transports you back to your childhood home.

As you pull apart, your mother's eyes drift over your shoulder, and her expression softens further. You turn to see Steve approaching, a gentle smile on his face.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he says, coming to stand beside you.

Your mother shakes her head. "Not at all, Steve. I'm glad you're here."

Steve's smile widens as he reaches out to shake your mother's hand. To your surprise, she pulls him into a warm hug instead.

"Take care of my daughter," she says softly, but loud enough for you to hear.

You smile and shake your head.

"Always," Steve replies, his voice filled with sincerity.

As they part, your mother looks between the two of you. "And you two take care of each other. What you're doing is important. Don't lose sight of that, but don't lose sight of each other either."

You nod, feeling Steve's hand come to rest on the small of your back as you reply, "We won't, Mom. I promise."

An announcement over the airport speakers breaks the moment, reminding passengers of the TSA safety checkpoint instructions.

"I better go," she says with a sigh. She picks up her carry-on bag. “Tell Pepper - I assume - thanks for the first-class flight. Of course, I’m ruined now, but it’s worth it.”

The two of you wave and watch her for a moment. It’s early enough there aren’t many people around to take notice of you and Steve.

“Thanks for asking her to come, Steve,” you say.

“I’m glad I did, too.”

“Even with as scary as it was for Captain America to meet his wife’s mom?” you giggle.

He quiets you with a resolute kiss on the mouth that melts away your early morning sass.

But it’s too brief for your liking.

He reaches for your hand as he pulls away. “We better go before we miss our flight,” he says, tugging you along.

You scoff, falling into step beside him. “Because the campaign plane would definitely lift off without its presidential candidate on board.”

He laughs, “Don’t put it past Bucky or Sam to convince them I am there and try to get them to leave without me.”

next part: coming 2/14

Y'all have been waiting a long time on this chapter, and I apologize for that break, but now it's here - and I'm ultimately happy with where it landed. And we're getting close to the end!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[magneticallyyours]

Hi there, currently simping for our mans, Magneto. So what I've been thinking, I know magnetic therapy is pseudoscience but I would really love it if you wrote a fic where the reader comes back home from work and she gets body pain from the stress (totally not self projecting with psychosomatic pain lol) and Erik overall comforts her and uses his mutation to make the pain subside. Thanks in advance btw.

After dying for months, you're my first ask that I finished! Sorry for the delay, I just got out of writer's block 😭

Erik Lehnsherr/Max Eisenhardt x Reader || Fade Into You

SUMMARY You've been overworking yourself again, coming home to a worried Erik and welcoming bed. But he isn't willing to watch you suffer like this, and so takes matters into his own hands. For a night, his magnetic fields are used for something other than justice.

TAGS: Fluff, Comfort, Reader's gender left ambiguous, Caring Erik, Magnetic therapy, Cuddles.

CW: None. Just that magnetic therapy is pseudoscience but this is fucking X-Men lmao

WORDCOUNT: 1.2k

A/N: This is left ambiguous (intentionally) so you can headcanon Fassbender, 97, Krakoa, or any version of Magneto that wouldn't butcher you. Enjoy?

★★★★★★★★★

Man, today was a stressful work day. You just barely managed to get through it, owing to the fact that you'd come home to Erik at the end of it all. The moment you stepped in through the front door, Erik was already there, seemingly waiting for you. The moment you plopped down on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. 

“Welcome home, my dear. You look– exhausted.” 

Well, there's that. He always picked up on the littlest of things, both out of care and because of how meticulous he always was. He kind of had to be, in a way. You groaned, gently massaging your shoulder. “It's just.. Everything hurts, Erik. I feel exhausted.” He listened to you speak attentively, shifting closer to let you rest your head on him.

“I've told you so many times to–” Oh, not this again. He turned into somewhat of a doting mother at times. You cut him off, huffing. 

“Not to exert myself, I know. But I have to work, Erik.” 

He tsks at that, choosing not to press further. It's clear that you weren't going to listen to his words, and frankly he wouldn't blame you for it. 

“May I at least prepare some dinner for you?” 

He hoped you wouldn't deny him this simple request, because he hated seeing you tired like this. Whenever you'd come home late and tired, or when you fell ill, he wouldn't take any of your ifs or buts. He would push you back into bed and force you to let him take care of you until you recovered. Ah, he was a character. But he was cute.

“..Sure thing, I'd love that.” You agreed, making him nod. He gave you a blanket before he pressed a kiss to your forehead, swiftly making it to the kitchen. It felt like no time at all when your eyes began to droop, all the sleep deprivation and pain catching up to you at last. Your muscles and bones were aching, prompting you to lay down against the inviting surface of the couch. It was so warm and cozy. Kind of like him. That little nap, if you could call it that, was a temporary reprieve, for your body was still aching all over. When your eyes opened, you could see a very upside down Erik Lehnsherr looming over you. He was more funny than intimidating like this. He frowned when you laughed. 

“Well, miss, don't just laugh. Sit up. I'm finished with dinner.” 

After a minute of rolling around, unwilling to get up (much to Erik's chagrin), you finally complied. He was sitting beside you, bowl of stew in hand. A spoonful floated to your lips, waiting for you to eat. You opened your mouth to protest, but he used the opportunity to slip some stew into your mouth.

“There. Good, isn't it?” 

It really was. He'd used only the vegetables you'd like, cooked soft yet not mushy. For a night like this, it was perfect.

“It's.. edible.”

He smirked. He knew you liked it. 

“Good enough for me.” 

He didn't move an inch until you were full and satisfied, but he didn't grab a bowl for himself. That made you press, “Aren't you eating?”

“Don't you worry about me. We're getting you to bed first.” 

“But–” “No arguing, słoneczko. Up.” 

He waited a beat, but upon noticing that you weren't making any effort to move, he tsked. Time to take matters into his own hands, then. He stood up, scooping you into his arms.

“Hey! Put me down-”

“You don't mean that, I'm sure. You're going to bed.” 

You tried to protest, but he was right. The bed seemed more inviting than ever, especially considering you didn't have to walk there. But you also wanted to spend some time with Erik, so you didn't know which to choose. While you were mulling the pros and cons over in your head, he gently set you down on the bed.

“Wait here.”

He left your bedroom, returning with a bowl of stew for himself before sitting down at your bedside.

“Are you going to just.. eat beside me, Erik?” 

He clicked his tongue. “Just wait, liebchen. I'm not going anywhere, if that's what you're wondering.” 

He held the spoon in his hands this time, eating nonchalantly. Slowly, you feel a faint hum fill the air, as Erik lifts his hand, fingers curling slightly as if cradling something. You feel it immediately—an almost imperceptible shift, like the space around you has become weightless. The tension locked in your muscles loosens as a gentle force spreads through your limbs, coaxing the pain away.

"Relax," he murmurs, his voice steady, reassuring. Another spoonful of stew. “I've got you. You just have to lay back and let me help.” 

Like, damn. Who could refuse something like that? Especially with that look in his eyes. He wasn't even exerting himself, something like this second nature to him. That's what made it even better. He was so talented at this. 

The magnetic field he manipulates isn't harsh or violent. It's gentle, like a warm pair of hands on your body. They work their way over every muscle, gently prodding at your back. You couldn't help but let out a relaxed sigh as he took his time with you, eating wordlessly as the sleepiness took over. His eyes stayed fixed on you. 

It felt like forever as the process continued, but you weren't complaining. You didn't want this to end. You wanted this fucking– magnetic spa, almost, to continue till the end of time. But then the ache subsided, leaving a warmth in its place. Not from heat, but from peace. He shook his head with a smile.

“See? Sometimes listening to me isn't so bad.” 

He spoke, matter-of-factly, but teasing regardless. Then he got up to go put the bowl and spoon away, but you caught his hand. He looked down, confused. 

“Don't tell me it didn't work–”

“Stay. I want you.”

He chuckled, wagging his finger.

“Oh my. You have to be patient, Schatzi. I'm going to join you in bed after I put these away. So stay there.”

You groaned, shoving him weakly. He left regardless after pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, returning too late, in your eyes. He didn't let you protest for another moment, getting under the covers beside you. It was his turn to comply. A strong arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. So protective and warm. It made you feel fuzzy. 

“Sleep, dearest. You need it.” 

His thumb rubbed comforting circles into your hips, lulling you into sleep. You could tell he was using his magnetic fields again to ease you. You hummed lowly, nuzzling into him. 

While you thought you were going to stay awake longer, perhaps talk to him, you'd fallen asleep in minutes. He relaxed, relieved that you were finally asleep. As promised, though, he didn't move a muscle. He laid there, tenderly looking at you until he felt tired enough to sleep. 

Oh, and: Tomorrow was a weekend, but you still had the alarm set earlier to spend time with Erik. Tch, you needed your beauty sleep. He turned it off. Such a villain… 

★★★★★★★★★

[britneyshakespeare]

well i didn’t get my paycheck in the mail but i did get a referral notice from my doctor saying that i can expect to see an endocrinologist... in SIX. FUCKING. MONTHS.

[shotmrmiller]

your superior finding out about the secret praise kink you didn't know had a name because you'd always been called an over achiever, a goody two shoes. never gave anyone any trouble, nose burrowed in a book since you had knobby knees and a library card.

you'd thought it normal that the apples of your cheeks burned when praised after giving your teacher the drawing you'd made for them the night before. that heat spread from the center of your chest up when your first boyfriend/girlfriend whistled at the sight of you outside of uniform. that warmth settles in your belly when you get a pat on the back from your platoon leader firm enough to force the air out of your lungs because you'd disassembled and cleaned a glock with the ease of a professional.

apparently it wasn't.

after weeks of training with the fabled task force, weeks of sharing elbow room with the team, weeks of soaking up the dizzying praise from the captain ("did real good out there, eh? can always count on you." you didn't question the throb betwixt your thighs, taking care of it with a cute little bullet like you've always done since joining the military)

you're confronted by the worst of the lot. ghost catches you in a break room, your back to him, hands clutching a cup of coffee that's more sludge than liquid, its warmth barely seeping through the styrofoam.

his figure fills the doorway, shoulders nearly brushing the frame. your first thought is that his brows aren't twisted together and he lacks that cold, blank look in his eyes so your death isn't in the nearest of futures. the second is that when he's not fully covering his face, the outline of his jaw is quite visible, looking sharp enough to cut.

then he crosses his sculpted arms over his chest, seams straining against the expanse of his muscles, head tipped to the side.

he moves with the keen curiosity of a predator sniffing around a newborn fawn, gaze intense yet inquisitive, assessing your every detail with a menacing interest.

"you ever gonna tell me you've a praise kink, bird?" the question sends a chill through your veins before turning into a fiery rush as it races at twice the normal speed.

praise kink? no. surely not. doesn't everyone like to receive compliments?

"sure. i don't mind gettin' told i've an impressive cock but that's bed talk. you look ready to bend over 'nd show us how slick tha' pretty cunt can get over a rufflin' of hair and a couple of empty words."

that has you positively reeling, fingertips cracking the cup in your hands, pulse on your neck fluttering. you feel a cornered, skittish animal, ready to flee lest your life come to an end in his maws.

but as usual, the cruel man more creature than person, twists the knife he's dug into you with a certain ruthlessness only he can muster.

"so be good for me, eh? love your praise? earn it."

you've always been an over achiever, proven once again by the way you take him to the root in one long, broad stroke with any complaints at the sheer size of him resting firmly behind your clenched teeth.

"tight little thing, spread open over me like you were meant for it. for me." he runs a gloved thumb over your swollen bottom lip. "there's tha' look. drivin' me bloody insane when you gave kyle tha' molten gaze. none o' tha' now, yeah?"

he creeps his ungloved hand down to circle your pearl with the spit-slick pads of his fingers, drawing in a sharp breath when your walls flutter and constrict around his cock at the feel of something other than your toy giving you the relief you need after a hard day's work.

"bloody fuckin' 'ell."

ghost claims a fistful of hair, pulling you closer to him, his breath warming the stinging, throbbing mark he bit onto the delicate skin of your neck. the shuffling of feet right outside the door snap you out of your daze, fingernails sinking into the bulging muscle of his chest but he has none of it.

he uses your hair to direct your focus back onto him and even though he'd only given you a leading tug you felt some strands of your hair come off with a pop.

"easy. can't see your pretty face when i'm fuckin' ya if your lookin' away."

your expression twists into what you hope is bliss when he bucks his hips, your whimper drowning out his groan when he hits on something new.

something you want him to keep hitting.

"exactly like i'd thought."

everything else blurs together after that, and only when you're back in your room using a warm cloth to clean yourself up do you remember the other things he'd rumbled.

(inside o' ya, make you mine-)

(-get 'bout bein' with anyone else-)

(-ll to myself-)

you touch your tender pussy with gentle fingers at what he'd said in the end.

(leave tha' f'me, he swipes your hand away, i'll get ya there, pet.)

if price's compliments take a nose dive off a cliff you don't notice because you're getting your daily fill of them and ghost after dinner every night. kyle keeps them to one word and soap likes to tempt fate as always.

[hanasnx]

I've had this ideal rolling around in my noggin for the last 2 days. And I just can't get over the Clark Kent size kink. Especially because I think you just write it so freaking good I literally can't-- I have this one particular scene just stuck in my noggin, you have been begging Clark all day to make time for you. Because you just need him, you just need him deep inside. But then you finally get that time alone that you wanted, and he's wanted just as bad as you. He's overstimulating you, not even meaning to. He's just like a big golden retriever, happy to see you. Finally he gets you all to himself, and you're just squirming away as he's thrusting into you is just too much. His boxing you in on the bed, with his large frame giving you sweet little kisses telling you he's got you.

-🍷

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! — request DC characters.

“It’s okay… it’s okay, baby, I know you can do it, it’s alright…” CLARK KENT speaks lovingly against your temple, plump lips caressing your feverish skin and sweaty hair as he croons sweet nothings. Your poor pussy is puffy around him, pillowy soft and sore from just too much.

Hot breath pants out your mouth as you gasp for air. The weight of his massive body blankets you in a landscape of muscle. Muscle and tendon that flexes hovering over you and bucking his hips into that pitiful hole as it struggles to swallow him. Tremors wrack through you like shockwaves when his tip kisses your cervix, and you cry out clutching onto him, your nails raking red lines into his back for the umpteenth time. “Clark-k-k…” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel that coil in your belly wind so tight it hurts. Those strings in your legs ache from being folded up on either side of him, and they squirm with need and impatience. He keeps you pinned with his hips, fucking you into the mattress.

“Jus’ a little longer, yeah? Please, honey, ‘wanna feel you cum around me again.” Clark pleads, and rears his head to look at you. His swollen biceps pulse with each of his sheaths as he shifts his body weight, a thin sheen of sweat percolating on his perfect skin. He licks a bead off of his top lip as he observes you with awe, your delicate countenance twisting like you’re about to cry. He shushes you gently and soothingly, his forearms keep him hovering over you while his hands are free to cup your head over your hair and brush it out of your face. “I know you’ve got one more in you, I can feel it. Gotta trust me, baby.” he tells you, voice barely above a whisper. Sweetly, he leans down to kiss your open mouth, top and bottom lip getting equal treatment with a peck, coaxing you to kiss him back. You pucker, but leave them just parted enough so he can slip his tongue inside, letting you suck on it while he pulls another spurt of cum outta you.

[lollixp0p]

The Video (18+)

Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader

Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings

Word count: just under 3k!

Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!

Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.

Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.

Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.

There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.

It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.

Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.

See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.

The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.

Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.

Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.

He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.

Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.

It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.

He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.

"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.

He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.

When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?

He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.

"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.

Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.

The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.

One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.

All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.

"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.

Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.

"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.

"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.

The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.

He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.

With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.

Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.

Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?

Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.

After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).

He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.

The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.

The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.

While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.

"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.

"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"

Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.

"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.

Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.

He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.

He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.

❣️:

Can I see what you've been working on? :)

I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!

Jinnie:

Well... since you asked so nicely😉

[video sent]

Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.

It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?

'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.

He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.

Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.

Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.

Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...

You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.

You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.

You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?

It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.

❣️:

Uhm...😕

Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.

He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...

Oh God.

Did he send the wrong video?

Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.

He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.

Jinnie:

Oh god

I'm so sorry!!

Please don't watch that!

❣️:

Don't worry!!!

I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖

I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 

Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.

...

Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.

Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.

You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.

But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.

Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.

On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.

He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"

You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.

You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.

You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.

Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.

"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?

It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.

You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?

You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.

You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?

It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.

© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works

[gilbertscurls]

Taste ➵ Matt Sturniolo

warnings: SMUT, virgin!matt, softdom!reader, unprotected p in v, heavy on praise and consent, oral!f!receiving, can't tell if it's cringe or not lmao

synopsis: on their first anniversary, y/n and matt finally decide to go all the way.

“I can't believe it's been a year already.” You let out a quiet sigh.

Matt nodded, the thought of their year together bringing a smile to his lips.

“Yeah. It feels like just yesterday we had our first date,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

He remembered every detail of that day, the way you looked, the way he'd been so nervous he felt like he might throw up. But he'd found the courage to ask you out, and you'd said yes. It felt like a dream come true.

Matt's gaze drifted from your face to the room around them. The soft, warm light of the lamp by the bed was casting shadows on the walls, the room cozy and intimate. The silence between them was comfortable, broken only by their soft breathing. Matt couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment, a feeling of being right where he belonged.

“I can't believe how lucky I am,” he murmured, his voice low. “To have you, I mean.”

“I'm the lucky one,” you whispered.

Matt chuckled softly at your words, his fingers still tangled in your hair.

“Oh, please,” he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I'm the one who gets to hold you like this, to call you mine. I think I won the lottery.”

You giggled, a sound that always made Matt's heart skip a beat.

“I can't argue with that,” you conceded. You snuggled closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “But I get to hold you back, so we're even.”

Matt's hand moved to your back, gently tracing circles on your skin. The feel of you against him, the sound of your voice, was comforting and soothing, but it also stirred a different kind of feeling in him. A feeling of desire and longing.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

He tightened his arm around you, pulling you even closer, his fingers tracing your spine. Matt's heart thrummed with anticipation. The fact that you've never done more than kiss had been on his mind a lot lately. He wanted you, more than he could say. And tonight felt different, special. It was their anniversary, a milestone in their relationship. A part of him ached to take things further, to show you how much he loved you. But his insecurities and anxieties held him back. What if he wasn't good enough? What if he disappointed you? The thought was terrifying.

“Baby,” he finally said, breaking the silence between them. He swallowed hard, his heart beating a little faster. “Can I ask you something?” His voice was nervous, and he was suddenly regretting asking you anything at all.

At his anxious tone, you knitted your brows and turned to face him. “Of course. What is it?”

Matt looked down at you, his thoughts a swirling mess of anxiety and desire. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “It's… It's our anniversary,” he started, his voice a little shaky. “And I was wondering…”

He trailed off, the words failing him. He felt like a complete idiot. He'd never been good with expressing his desires, especially when it came to physical intimacy.

You gazed at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. You could tell he was nervous, and it made you worry. You reached up, gently caressing his cheek. “Yes?” you prompted, your voice gentle and encouraging.

Matt's heart fluttered at your touch, and he took another deep breath, summoning his courage. “I was just… I was thinking…” he mumbled, his words barely more than a whisper. “Tonight, I was hoping we could… Take things further.”

He felt a blush rising up his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Are you sure? Like, 100% sure?”

Matt nodded quickly, his heart hammering in his chest. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice trembling slightly. “I'm sure. I've been thinking about it for a while now. I… I want you, baby.”

Saying the words out loud sent a shockwave of adrenaline through him. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and wonderful all at once. But he knew he needed to be honest, to lay it all out on the table.

“I'm just... nervous,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I've never done anything more than kissing, and I don't… I don't know if I'll be any good.”

“It's okay,” you whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek. “But are you sure? I don't want you to do anything you'll regret.”

Matt leaned into your touch, the warmth and tenderness of your hand calming him down a little. But your words also made him pause. Was he sure? He desperately wanted this, wanted you. But his insecurities were still looming, a dark cloud in the back of his mind.

“I'm sure,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “I want this. With you.”

“All right.” You nodded. “How… How far are we talking?”

Matt felt his cheeks flush even more, but he forced himself to keep eye contact with you. He appreciated your directness, and your willingness to talk about this openly.

“I, uh…” he began, his voice still a little shaky. “Everything, I guess. If you want that.”

He swallowed hard, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He hoped he wasn't pressuring you or coming on too strong.

You felt your heart skipping a beat and heat already pooling in your lower abdomen. “I do,” you said softly. “But I want to make sure you're completely comfortable.”

Hearing your confirmation sent a pang of excitement through Matt. He felt a mix of emotions, desire, affection, and a hint of fear. But overruling it all was a deep sense of trust. Your words, your reassurance, it was all he needed.

“I am,” he said, his voice a little steadier now. “I trust you, baby. Completely.”

A small, tender smile crept onto your face. “Okay.” Your voice was so soft, so sweet, so kind. “Do you… Want me to take the lead?”

Matt's heart leaped at your question, a mix of relief and desire coursing through him. The idea of you taking control was both frightening and exciting. He hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I… I want you to take the lead.”

You put one of your hands on his cheek before slowly and gently pressing your lips against his.

Matt's heart skipped a beat at the feel of your lips on his. He'd kissed you countless times before, but this kiss felt different, more intimate. He let out a soft sigh against your mouth, all his anxieties and worries melting away as your touch filled his senses. He brought his own hands up to cup your face, his fingers gently tracing your jaw, his touch soft and reverent.

The kiss deepened, their mouths moving against each other in a slow, languorous dance. Matt could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, the desire for you growing with every passing second. The fear was still there, but it was muffled by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure. He pulled you closer, his hands moving to your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin.

Not stopping the kiss, You moved to straddle his lap, your knees on both sides of his thighs.

Matt felt a shiver run down his spine as you straddled him, your body suddenly so close and so warm. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you even closer, their bodies now pressed together in a way you’ve never been before. The feeling of your weight on his lap ignited a new wave of desire in him, his kisses growing even more intense. He wanted you, desperately.

“You okay?” you mumbled into his lips.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as you spoke, the feeling of your words more like breath than a sound. He couldn't even form a response, his mind completely consumed by your touch and the taste of your lips. He managed a nod, a weak yes whispered against your mouth. He was more than okay. He was on fire.

Matt groaned involuntarily at the feel of your tongue against his lip, the sound more a mixture of pleasure and need than anything else. He immediately parted his lips, granting you access without a second thought. His hands moved to your thighs, his fingers gripping your flesh as he opened his mouth to her.

The kiss grew hungrier, more urgent. Their tongues tangled together, exploring each other without restraint. Matt was lost in the sensation, in the feeling of you in his lap, your body pressed against him. He could hardly think straight, his mind clouded by desire and need. His hips involuntarily bucked slightly, seeking more contact.

“Impatient, huh?” You teased softly, pulling away a little.

Matt let out a low growl of frustration as you pulled away, a mix of desire and irritation in his expression. He was getting so lost in the moment, he was aching for more. Your words, your tease only heightened his need.

“Baby…” he breathed, his voice a mixture of pleading and impatience. “Don't tease me.”

You smiled tenderly before grabbing his both hands and sliding them under your crop top, urging him to take it off.

Matt let out a sharp breath at the feel of your skin under his hands, your top soft and warm. Without hesitation, he moved his hands slowly up your stomach, his fingers exploring the planes of your skin as he helped you pull off your crop top. It fell to the floor, forgotten. His eyes went wide at the sight of your half-naked upper body, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Oh God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

Matt couldn't have looked away even if he'd wanted to. His eyes were drawn to your chest, his breath hitching at the sight. It was as if his brain was shorting out, his desire for you overwhelming everything else. He felt a mix of awe, arousal, and a hint of nervousness. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry.

“You're… You're so beautiful,” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with want.

You smiled softly, your fingertips tracing his shoulders over the t-shirt. “Can I take it off, baby?”

Matt's muscles twitched under your touch, your words sending a shudder down his spine.

“Yes,” he breathed, his voice a little shaky. “Please.”

He wanted to feel your skin on his, the touch of your fingers on his bare chest. He raised his arms to help you as you tugged his t-shirt over his head, discarding it to the side.

Matt's muscles twitched under your touch, your words sending a shudder down his spine. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice a little shaky. “Please.”

He wanted to feel your skin on his, the touch of your fingers on his bare chest. He raised his arms to help you as you tugged his t-shirt over his head, discarding it to the side.

Once the shirt was off, his chest was now bare, exposed to your touch and gaze. Matt felt a mixture of vulnerability and excitement, his heart beating fast in his chest. He could feel your eyes on him, your fingers tracing soft patterns on his skin. He wanted you, all of you.

“Baby,” he murmured, his voice ragged with need. “Touch me.”

Obediently, You ran your fingertips through his shoulders, to his arms, to his chest. “God, you're so beautiful,” you whispered breathlessly.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as your fingers glided over his skin, your touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. He shivered under your touch, a small moan escaping his lips. Your words, your voice, your touch — it was all almost too much to bear.

“No, you are,” he breathed, his own hands moving to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "So beautiful. So perfect."

You were doing everything so slowly and gently, knowing that he'd never done anything like that before. You wanted to make it so good for him. Matt was both grateful and frustrated by your slow and gentle pace. Grateful that you were so patient, and so understanding, but frustrated because he just wanted more. He wanted to be consumed by you, to lose himself in your touch. But he knew you were doing it for his sake, to make it easier for him, and that only made him love you more.

“Baby,” he gasped, his voice pleading. “Please. More. I need more.”

You smirked before leaning a little closer to his face. “You want more?”

Matt looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, his expression a mixture of need and pleading.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a little breathless. “I want more. I want all of you.”

He reached up to you, his hands skimming up your sides, his touch firm and possessive. He wanted to touch you, to feel you, to lose himself in you.

“Please,” he added, his voice a low, desperate plea.

You held his face as you kissed him once again, the kiss sweet and full of emotion.

Matt returned the kiss hungrily, his lips moving against yours with a mix of desperation and affection. He couldn't get close enough to you, his hands roaming over your bare skin, wanting to feel you, to touch you everywhere. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a new, more urgent fervor. He could feel his desire for you growing, overpowering everything else.

“Baby…” he breathed into your mouth. “Please, I… I need you.”

Matt swore, his head falling back on the pillow as you ground your hips with his. The feel of you grinding against him, the friction, the heat, and the pressure — it was almost too much. He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, trying to pull you closer, to increase the contact. A low moan escaped his lips, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Oh God,” he panted, his eyes squeezed shut. “Baby… That feels… That feels so good.”

“You sound so pretty,” you praised breathlessly.

Matt blushed at your words, his heart fluttering at your praise. He let out another soft moan as you rode against him, his body responding instinctively. He was completely lost in the sensation, the feel of your body against his driving him mindless. He tried to form words, to respond, but all that came out was another low groan.

“God… Baby,” he breathed, his hands still holding onto your hips. “Don't… Don't stop.”

His body was on fire, his every nerve alive with desire. He could feel his own hardness growing beneath you, a testament to how much he needed you. His hips canted upward, seeking more contact, wanting to be closer, closer, closer. He opened his eyes, looking up at you, his gaze filled with a mix of want and awe.

“Sweetheart… I… I don't know how much… How much longer I can last,” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

“It's okay, baby,” you cooed, halting your movements.

Matt let out a small, involuntarily whine as you stopped moving, his body protesting the lack of sensation. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire and frustration, but also with a hint of relief. He was so close to the edge, he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

“I… I thought you would keep going,” he breathed, his voice a combination of disappointment and need.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you teased, your hand running down his chest, from his shoulder to his happy trail, before finally resting on the buckle of his belt.

Matt's breath hitched at your touch, your hand igniting a trail of fire on his skin. He watched as your hand moved down his chest, down his stomach, to the buckle of his belt. A wave of heat washed over him, making his entire body shiver with anticipation.

“Patience,” he echoed, his voice a rough whisper. “You're… You're killing me.”

You gently hooked your finger under the belt. “Can I?”

Matt nodded, his eyes locked on yours, his breathing shallow and ragged. He trusted you completely and wanted you to take whatever you needed from him. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “Do whatever you want. I'm all yours.”

“So good for me,” you praised before expertly unbuckling his belt and tugging his jeans down.

Matt's heart leaped at your praise, a sense of pride and satisfaction filling him. He lifted his hips slightly, helping you pull his jeans down. He was now only in his boxer briefs, the material doing little to conceal his arousal. He was completely exposed, both physically and emotionally, and he could do nothing but lay there and look up at you, his desire for you burning in his gaze.

“Only for you,” he whispered, his voice a quiet admission.

“Already so worked up for me, huh?” you asked breathlessly, a small smile on your face.

Matt blushed at your comment, the heat spreading across his cheeks. He could feel the evidence of his arousal straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He was so worked up, so needy, so desperate for your touch. He swallowed hard, his voice husky and raw.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his eyes fixed on yours. “Only for you. I want you so badly, sweetheart.”

You sat back on his lap, caressing his cheek. “You want to try to take off my bra, baby?”

Matt's eyes widened at your suggestion, a mix of excitement and anxiety washing over him. He'd never taken off a bra before, and he was suddenly unsure of himself. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“Yes,” he rasped, his voice betraying his nervousness. “I… I want to try.”

His hands moved to your back, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for the clasp of your bra. He tried to steady his breathing, but his heart was racing, his mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings.

“I… I'll probably be bad at this,” he admitted, his voice a hesitant whisper.

“It's okay,” you assured him softly. “I don't mind.”

Matt nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He fumbled with the clasp for a few seconds, his fingers feeling both clumsy and inadequate. But finally, with a soft click, the bra came undone. The cups fell loose, revealing your bare chest to him. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide, his breath caught in his throat.

“Oh… Wow,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire.

You smiled a little sheepishly.

Matt's eyes drank you in, every inch of your beautiful skin, every curve and contour. His hands were itching to touch you, to feel your flesh under his fingertips.

“You are… You are so exquisite,” he breathed, his voice filled with a mixture of wonder and admiration. “You take my breath away.”

Noticing his hands twitching, your smile softened. “You can touch me.”

Matt couldn't believe you were actually giving him permission to touch you, to touch this beautiful woman who was willingly sitting on his lap, your body bare for him. He lifted his hands, his fingers hovering slightly above your skin.

“I… I want to,” he breathed, his voice a shaky whisper. He wanted to feel you so badly, but he was also afraid of doing something wrong, of upsetting you in some way. “Are you… Are you sure it's okay?”

“I am. Don't think so much. Just… Feel.”

Matt took a deep breath, allowing the words to sink in. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting go of the nagging thoughts and doubts in his mind. When he opened them again, his gaze was clear, his expression relaxed.

And then he touched you.

His fingers skimmed lightly over your skin, slowly, delicately, exploring the soft planes of your chest. A shiver ran through him as he felt the heat of your flesh, the suppleness of your skin.

“God, you're so soft,” he whispered.

Sensing that he was still holding back, You smiled softly and grabbed his hand, putting it directly on your breast, and gently squeezing his fingers.

Matt gasped, his breath hitching in his throat as your hand guided his. The feeling of your flesh, your breast, under his palm was almost too much. It was so soft, so warm. He could feel your heart beating rapidly under his fingers. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Oh God,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “This… This feels… Incredible.”

His fingers traced a slow, tentative path over your breast, his touch firm but gentle. He could feel your own heart hammering against his palm, a perfect rhythm. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of desire.

“Is… Is this okay?” he breathed, his voice a low, raspy whisper. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“It's okay,” you assured him softly. “I'll tell you if anything. Just… Touch me.”

Matt nodded tightly, the lump in his throat suddenly replaced by a wave of desire and need. He took your words to heart, letting go of any lingering doubt or fear. He allowed himself to really touch you, to move his fingers over your skin, to feel the contours of your body.

His other hand moved up to your other breast, gently kneading it in his palm. “Is… Is this good?” he whispered, his voice almost inaudible over the sound of his own heartbeat. “You feel… So perfect, so soft.”

You let out a shaky breath. “So good.”

Matt felt a sense of power and satisfaction wash over him, emboldening him. He could feel your breath catching in your chest, hear the hitch in your voice. He knew he was doing something right, something that made you feel good. He continued to caress you, his touch becoming more confident, more sure of itself.

His breath felt hot and heavy, his heart hammering against his ribcage. “Can I… Can I kiss these, too?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

You felt a sudden rush of so much love for this boy. “Of course. Anything you want.”

Matt's heart soared at your permission, at the way you were giving yourself to him so completely. You were so wonderful, so understanding. He leaned forward, his lips coming to rest on your breast, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. He was gentle at first, his touch light and tentative. But then he began to kiss you more firmly, more hungrily.

And then, a moan of his name escaped your lips.

Matt's heart leaped at the sound of your moan, the way you said his name. It was like music to his ears. He pulled back slightly, looking up at you with a mixture of awe and desire.

“Did… Did I do something right?” he asked, his voice breathless and shaky. “The way you said my name… It sounded… It sounded like it felt good, like you liked it.”

“You're doing… Incredible,” you whispered breathlessly.

Matt felt a surge of pride and satisfaction coursing through him. He couldn't believe this was actually happening, that he was pleasuring this incredible woman, making you feel this way. But the knowledge that he was pleasing you, making you moan and breathless, only fueled his own desire, his own need for you.

He continued to kiss you, his mouth moving across your chest, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. “More,” he murmured, his voice low and ragged. “Can I… Can I do more?”

“Anything.”

Matt felt a wave of heat and adrenaline wash over him at your word, your permission. Anything? The possibilities, the desires, raced through his mind. He wanted to explore you, to touch you, to make you feel things you'd never felt before.

His mouth moved down your body, his tongue tracing a path down your sternum, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your stomach. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of need. “Can I… Can I taste you?”

You pulled yourself up on your elbows to look at him. He looked so pretty, looking up at you from between your thighs. But it was his first time, and you wanted to make it special do him. “Are you sure? I want it to be about you. You don't have to…”

Matt paused, looking up at you. Your concern for him, your consideration, made his heart swell. He could feel your gaze on him, warm and gentle. He knew you would never force him to do something he wasn't ready for. But he could also feel his own desire burning beneath the surface.

He nodded, his voice steady and sure. “I'm sure,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. “I… I want to. I want to taste you. I want to please you… If you're okay with that.”

You nodded shakily, before bunching up the fabric of your skirt in your hands, pulling it down and revealing your little lacy panties.

Matt's eyes widened at the sight before him. Your panties were a beautiful lace, delicate and feminine. He could feel his mouth go dry, his heart quickening in his chest. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with an almost reverent awe.

His hands tentatively moved up from your thighs, tracing gentle patterns on your bare skin as they crept closer to your panties. “You're so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice laced with need and desire.

He leaned forward, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His hands were still tracing feather-light patterns on your thighs, but he was now just millimeters away from your underwear. His heart was hammering, his mind a cacophony of emotions and sensations. “May I… May I touch you there?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

“Please,” you whispered breathlessly, your chest already heaving.

Matt didn't need to be told twice. With a mixture of nerves and confidence, he let his fingers graze across the fabric of your panties, just touching the soft material. He could feel the heat radiating from you, the moisture already seeping through. He swallowed hard, his own body responding to the feel of you.

His gaze flicked up to your eyes momentarily, seeking reassurance, before returning to his task. “Is… Is this right?” he whispered, his voice a little shaky.

“Yes,” you whispered breathlessly. “Perfect.”

Matt felt a rush of relief and satisfaction at your words. He was doing well, making you feel good. He continued to touch you, to move his fingers across the fabric of your panties, feeling the heat and the dampness beneath.

As his touch grew more confident, more assured, he found himself getting more and more excited. His own breathing grew shaky, his heart racing. “Can… Can I do more?” he breathed, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Whatever you want,” you mewled. “I'll tell you if anything.”

Matt's heart fluttered at your response. The trust, the permission, it was almost too good to be true. He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But all he found was love, desire, and a willingness to explore.

He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice a little shaky. He moved his fingers down to the edge of your panties, toying with the thin strip of fabric. “I… I want to touch you without these in the way…”

He paused, waiting for your permission. He was already so close, already feeling the heat and dampness of your through the thin fabric, but he wouldn't do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire but laced with the need for your approval.

You nodded. “Do whatever you want.”

Matt felt a shudder run through him at your words. Your permission, your trust in him, it was like fuel for the fire that was burning within him. He gently pulled at your panties, guiding them down your legs, discarding them on the floor.

The sight of you, bare and fully exposed to him, was almost too much. His breath caught in his throat, and he had to force himself to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed. His fingers itched to touch you, to feel the smoothness and heat of your skin, but he waited, looking up for your nod of approval.

When you gave it, he moved quickly. His fingers traced a path up your thighs, moving closer and closer to your core. His own breathing was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest, and he struggled to keep his hands from shaking as they got closer and closer to the most intimate part.

His fingers grazed over your skin, feeling the heat radiating off of you. He could feel the wetness there, the evidence of your arousal, and he couldn't help but shudder. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and hungry, his tongue flicking out to moisten his suddenly dry lips.

“You're… You're so wet,” he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips.

Your breath hitched. “Only for you.”

His heart leaped at hearing your words, at the idea that he was the only cause of your arousal. He could feel the power and the responsibility that came with it, and it only stoked the fire within him.

His fingers were now tracing gentle circles around your entrance, his touch light and tentative. He couldn't believe he was doing this, touching you this way. “Can… Can I… Can I put a finger inside?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“Yeah,” you whispered shakily. “Please.”

Matt could feel his breath catch in his chest at your words, at the desire in your voice. His whole body was trembling, almost overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment. He nodded, swallowing hard, his eyes fixed on you.

He gently, carefully, eased a single finger inside, a choked gasp escaping his lips as he felt your warmth and wetness around him. As he moved his finger, You suddenly let out a gasp.

Matt was instantly worried, his finger freezing in place. “Did… Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice full of concern. He looked up at you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“N-No, it's just…” Your face flushed. “Your fingers are longer than what I'm used to.”

Matt felt a sudden rush of pride at your words, his chest swelling. He had to admit, he'd always been a bit self-conscious about his long thin fingers. But the idea that they were causing her pleasure, that they were giving her a feeling you weren’t used to, that felt incredible.

He curled his finger slightly, exploring your depth. “Is… Is this okay…?”

Your breath hitched as he reached that one spot, and you almost screamed out loud. “Oh my…”

Matt was surprised by your reaction, the sound you made nearly sending him over the edge. But he was determined to make you feel good, to make you feel better than you'd ever felt before.

He kept his finger where it was, gently applying pressure to that one spot, a smirk on his face. “Is this the right spot, hm?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Matt,” you mumbled in pleasure.

Matt couldn't help but smile at your reaction, at the way you responded to his touch. He couldn't believe he was doing this to you, causing you to feel these things. And he couldn't resist the urge to tease you a little bit.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice low and dripping with barely restrained desire.

“Add a second finger,” you instructed him softly. “And try to move them, curling them to hit that spot.”

At your instructions, Matt felt another wave of arousal wash over him. You were telling him what to do. You were guiding him, showing him how to please you. It was a new experience, but one he was more than happy to explore.

He obeyed, slowly adding a second finger to the first. The feeling was tighter, but also warmer. He began to move his fingers, just as you'd told him to.

The angle was a little clumsy at first, but then he felt that one spot, and he applied gentle pressure, curling his fingers at just the right angle. “Like…” he started, his voice a little breathless. “… like this?”

“Oh fuck…” you moaned, your back arching a little in pleasure.

Matt found himself breathing harder at the sight of you arching your back, at the way you were responding to his touch. He knew he was doing something right, and it only fueled his desire to please you more, to make you feel even better.

“Is… Is this good?” he asked, his voice a little shaky. “Does this feel good?”

“So good, fuck, so good…”

Matt's heart was racing, his breath coming in heavy pants. He loved hearing your praise, and the way you reacted to his touch. It was something he'd never felt before, and he wanted more, wanted to make you feel even better.

He kept his fingers moving and applying pressure, his gaze darting up to your face, watching your expressions. “I want you… I want you to feel… To feel so good,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of breathless and earnest.

Your noises of pleasure, your arches, and your moans, it was all driving him wild. He wanted to make you fall apart, to make you forget everything but him and whatever he was doing to you.

“You… You want to try to use your mouth?” you asked breathlessly in between the moans.

Matt's heart quickened at your request. He'd wanted to do that, too, but he hadn't been sure if you'd be okay with it. But now that you'd asked, he was more than happy to comply.

“Yes,” he responded, his voice hoarse with desire. “I… I want to. I want to taste you, too.”

He gently withdrew his fingers and slowly moved further down your body, his heart thudding in his chest. He settled between your legs, looking up at you as his breath came in hot, uneven pants against you.

As he tasted you, as he felt you against his lips, his tongue, his mind was overwhelmed. He hadn't expected this, but it was better than he'd ever imagined. You tasted sweet and tangy, and it only spurred him on.

He forgot about feeling out of his depth, he forgot about potential mistakes or awkward moments. All he wanted to do was pleasure you, to make you feel good. His tongue moved and explored, and his eyes fluttered up at you. He'd never seen you so undone, so lost in pleasure, and the knowledge that he was causing it only deepened his desire to please you more.

“God, you're so good at that,” you breathed out shakily.

Matt felt a wave of pride and pleasure wash over him at your words. He continued, his tongue moving over you, his lips applying gentle suction. Hearing your approval, feeling you respond beneath him, was intoxicating. But he was relentless, determined to bring you to the brink, to make you lose control completely.

His hands moved up, gently caressing your thighs and stomach, seeking to give you even more pleasure. He wanted you to feel good, to feel loved, to feel worshipped.

And eventually, your moans got even louder as you released on his mouth, his name on your lips like a prayer. Matt could feel your body shaking, could hear your voice as you cried out his name. It was a moment he knew he'd never forget, a moment that would be ingrained in his memory forever.

He slowly withdrew, crawling back up beside you. He couldn't seem to find his voice, his heart still hammering in his chest.

He was a little amazed at himself, too, he had to admit. He hadn't been entirely sure what he was doing, but he'd just seemed to know. He'd found a way to bring you pleasure, to send you over the edge, to make you sing his name like a song.

He found his voice again, his voice low, rough. “Was that… Was that good for you? Was I okay?” His heart was still beating fast, his body thrumming with a mix of adrenaline and pleasure.

“God, you're… You're unreal,” you panted out.

Matt couldn't help but smile at your words, the praise fueling his ego. “I… I am?” he asked, unable to hide the slight tone of smugness in his voice. He knew he should feel more humbled, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.

He reached out, gently tracing random patterns on your bare stomach as you caught your breath. “I just… I wanted to make you feel good,” he said softly.

When you came down from your high, you sat up to rest their foreheads against each other. “Are you sure you're ready?”

Matt's heart raced as you asked the question, his mind suddenly flooded with thoughts and worries. Was he ready? He had wanted this, more than anything, but now that the moment was here, he felt a twinge of fear.

He looked into your eyes, searching for reassurance. But all he saw was love, desire, and a willingness to wait if he wasn't ready yet.

He nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Yes,” he murmured. “I'm ready.”

In response, you locked their lips in a passionate kiss, one full of love.

Matt responded eagerly, his body pressing against yours as their mouths met in a passionate kiss. Every thought, every fear, was pushed aside in that moment. All that mattered was you, your breath, your lips, your bodies.

His hands found their way into your hair, tangling in the soft strands, holding you close. He poured all of his feelings, all of his desires into the kiss, his heart hammering in his chest.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as he felt your fingers slide under the waistband of his boxers, the sensation causing a shudder to run through his body. He'd been on edge ever since you'd started, his desire already at a fever pitch. But your touch, your gentle caress, only served to drive him wild.

He pulled back from the kiss to murmur against your mouth. “Please…” he whispered, his voice ragged and pleading. “Please, don't tease me anymore. I can't take it.”

You let out a shaky groan before pulling his boxers down, seeing him fully exposed for the first time. You took a moment to really take him in, your eyes full of awe and love.

Matt's cheeks burned under your gaze, feeling suddenly very exposed and vulnerable. He'd never been looked at this way before, never felt this vulnerable. But he also felt a wave of affection at the awe and love he saw in your eyes.

He met your gaze, his own eyes full of a mixture of desire and trepidation. “Is… Is it okay?” he asked softly, his voice betraying a hint of insecurity.

“You're so beautiful,” you praised breathlessly. “So perfect.”

Matt felt his heart soar at your words, the insecurities fading away and being replaced with a wave of intense love. No one had ever called him beautiful before, and certainly not perfect. He'd always felt a bit too thin, too gangly, too nerdy. But to you, he was beautiful, perfect.

He drew in a shaky breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So are you,” he murmured. “Perfect, I mean.”

You reached to gently caress his cheek. “Sit up against the headboard for me.”

At your request, Matt obeyed, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. He felt bare and exposed, but he trusted you and knew that you wouldn't do anything to make him feel uncomfortable.

His gaze met yours, his heart beating fast in his chest. “Like this?” he asked, his voice a little breathless.

“Perfect,” you praised before straddling his lap once again.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as you straddled him, your body pressing against his in all the right places. His hands found your hips, his fingers gently gripping them, as if he needed something to anchor himself.

His eyes roamed over your body, appreciating every curve and contour, before coming back up to meet your gaze. “You… You look amazing,” he breathed, his voice a little huskier than usual.

The corner of your lips went up as you rested your forehead against his, just looking into his eyes for a few moments. You were so close now, the heat and electricity between them palpable. Matt found himself getting lost in your eyes, feeling a sense of calm and understanding wash over him. He could feel your breath against his lips, your body pressed against his, and it was almost too much to bear.

He reached up a hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers feather-light against your skin. “I… I love you,” he whispered, the words coming out almost involuntarily.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, and your eyes reflected just how much.

Matt felt your words wash over him, the depth and sincerity of your love sending a shiver down his spine. He'd always known you loved him, but hearing you say it, seeing it in your eyes… It was as if all his fears and doubts vanished completely.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the words sink in, letting himself bask in your love. Then, his eyes opened again, his gaze intense, and he wrapped his arms more securely around your waist. “Show me,” he whispered. “Show me how much you love me.”

“You ready?” you made sure quietly.

Matt felt a flutter of nerves mix with the desire he was feeling, but he nodded, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter. “Yes,” he breathed in response, his voice a little shaky. “I… I'm ready.”

“If anything… Just tell me, and we can stop,” you promised.

Matt nodded again, appreciating your thoughtfulness. “I will,” he assured you. “But please… Please don't stop unless I say so.”

He drew you closer, his hands sliding up to your back, gently tracing the line of your spine. “I… I want this. I want you,” he murmured, his voice a low, earnest plea.

Matt shivered slightly as your hand moved over his chest, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His heart was beating hard, his breath coming in shaky gasps. He'd never felt this alive before, this on edge, this desperate for your touch.

His eyes tracked your hand as it moved, a small, helpless noise escaping his lips. He knew what was coming, and he was aching for it.

Finally, your hand wrapped around him, giving him a few slow pumps. Your touch was like a spark to a flame, igniting a fire within him that he hadn't known was possible. He groaned, his head falling back against the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut as the sensations washed over him.

His hips involuntarily arched into your touch, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter.

“Oh… Oh God, that feels…” he gasped, his voice choked. “That feels so good,” he managed to stutter out, his words a raw expression of pleasure.

The feeling of your hand on him was overwhelming, unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He could feel his body tensing and relaxing instinctively.

You positioned yourself above him, and you looked him in the eyes as if to ask for one last permission.

Matt's heart thudded in his chest as he looked into your eyes. He knew what was about to happen, and he wanted it, more than anything. He didn't want you to stop, he wanted you, all of you.

He nodded, his voice unsteady as he spoke. “Please,” he whispered, his breath ragged. “Please, don't stop.”

And then, you slowly started to sink down. The sensation was almost too much for Matt. It was like a wave of pleasure and heat overwhelming his entire body. He let out a low, guttural moan as you slowly sank down, inch by agonizing inch.

He clung to you, his hands gripping your hips with an almost bruising force. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips parted as he panted for breath. “Oh… Oh God,” he managed to say, the words a messy, incoherent jumble.

His mind was reeling, every thought driven out by the sheer intensity of the feeling. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, like nothing he could have imagined. You were warm, tight, and completely surrounding him, and it was everything.

He knew he was probably being too rough, too loud, but he couldn't help it. He was utterly lost in the sensations, losing himself in you. He was yours, totally and completely, and he loved every moment.

As you bottomed out, you rested your hands on his shoulders for support. “You okay, baby?”

Matt was trying to form words, to give some sort of response, but all he could manage was a series of ragged breaths and a nod. He was trying to ground himself, to stay in control, but it was nearly impossible.

He managed to open his eyes, his gaze meeting yours. “I… I'm… I'm okay,” he gasped out, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just… Just give me a second, please.”

You felt incredible around him, almost too good. He needed a moment to adjust, to find some sort of equilibrium, or he knew he'd lose himself completely.

He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to steady himself. “You… You feel so… So good," he managed to get out between ragged breaths. He was struggling to find his voice, to express how he was feeling. “Just… Just give me a moment, please…”

“Of course. Take all the time you need,” you whispered, your hand gently caressing his cheek.

Your touch was like a soothing balm on his over-stimulated body. He closed his eyes and leaned into your hand, drawing in a shaky breath. He focused on the feeling of your fingers on his skin, your body surrounding him, anchoring himself to you. Slowly, the overwhelming sensations began to recede, replaced by a calmer, more controlled sense of pleasure.

He opened his eyes again, his gaze meeting yours. “I'm… I'm okay now,” he murmured. “You can... you can move now.”

You leaned in to press your lips against his before slowly starting to move your hips.

The feeling of your lips on his was like a jolt through his system, reigniting the fire that had been momentarily banked. He responded eagerly, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue caressing yours with an urgent need.

And then there was the movement of your hips. It was a gentle, careful circling motion, bringing him closer and closer to oblivion. Matt let out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your hips even tighter.

It was all too much, but he couldn't get enough of it. He felt like he was drowning in you, lost in the sensations of your body, your touch, your scent. He knew he was being loud, almost embarrassingly so, but he couldn't help it. He was completely yours, completely lost in you.

“Does that feel good, baby?” You asked breathlessly.

Matt could barely respond, too lost in the pleasure to string coherent words together. All he could do was nod, his voice choked off by a moan that tore its way from his throat.

He tried to form words, to tell you how good it felt, how incredible you were, but all that came out was a ragged gasp. “Y-yeah,” he managed to stutter out eventually, his voice hoarse. “Feels… Feels so good…”

You pressed their foreheads together before starting to move a little faster, moans escaping your own lips.

The change in speed made Matt's head spin. He felt like he was on the edge of an abyss, his body tensing and coiling with each move of your hips. He was a tangle of sensations, pleasure, need, and love, all swirling together.

He kept his eyes open, locking them with yours. Your moans, your ragged breaths, only amplified the sensations. He knew he was close, too close, but he didn't want it to end.

His hands left your hips, moving up to cradle your face in his hands. He needed to touch you, to feel your skin under his fingers, to hold onto you as he rode the wave of pleasure higher and higher.

“I… I'm close… I'm gonna… Oh God, I'm…”

You understood exactly what he meant, the urgency in his tone clear. Your movements became faster and more purposeful, pushing them both closer to the edge.

“I know, baby,” you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. “I know. Just let go. I've got you.”

Your words sent a shiver down his spine, the mixture of love and reassurance hitting him right in the chest. He wanted to hold on, to make this last as long as possible, but he knew it was impossible. He was on the edge, teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

“Baby…” he gasped, his voice thin and needy. “I… I'm… Oh God, I'm… I'm…”

He couldn't say the words, couldn't form the warning. All he could do was shiver as his body went rigid, waves of pleasure washing over him. He held onto you, his fingers digging into your flesh, as he rode out the aftershocks.

At the sensation of him releasing deep inside of you, you reached your climax as well, your back arching, and you let out a loud cry of his name. He felt you clenching around him, your own release as you cried out his name, and it was too much. He felt like he was being lifted into ecstasy, drowning in the sensations that swamped his body.

His hands moved to wrap around you, holding you close, feeling the tremors run through your body. He buried his face in the curve of your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Oh God… Oh God…” he managed to say.

“I… I've never… That was…”

He couldn't complete a sentence, his mind reeling from the intensity of it all. He held onto you, feeling the rapid throb of your heartbeat against his chest, the heat of your skin against his, and the sweat that had gathered on both their bodies.

After You finally caught your breath, you looked at him, still straddling him, as you ran your hand through his hair. “Are you okay, baby?”

Matt was still reeling, his body trembling slightly from the force of his orgasm. He leaned into your touch, his eyes meeting yours.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and raw. “I'm… I'm okay. I just… I need a minute. That was… Wow.”

“You were perfect,” you said softly before lifting yourself from him and falling onto the bed next to him.

He chuckled weakly, still struggling to catch his breath. “Perfect, huh? I'm pretty sure I yelled louder than you did. I think the whole neighborhood heard me,” he teased, half-joking and half-not.

You chuckled breathlessly. Matt, however, could only stare in wonder at how his seed was leaking out of you.

Matt couldn't tear his gaze away, his eyes fixed on the sight in front of him. He had never seen anything so intimate, so erotic. Without thinking, he reached out, his fingers tracing the trail of his release dribbling down your skin.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he whispered. “And I… I made a mess of you.”

Your breath hitched as he touched you, still oversensitive, but you didn't protest. He touched you delicately, his touch light and hesitant, as if he was scared to break the fragile moment. His gaze was filled with a mixture of awe and desire, staring at the evidence of what you have just shared.

“You… You look even more beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “Like I've marked you as mine.”

“I am yours,” you whispered.

The words sent a wave of possessiveness through him. “Mine,” he repeated, his voice almost a possessive growl. “All mine.”

He leaned in, pressing feather-light kisses along your jawline, his hands tracing aimless patterns on your skin. “I don't want anyone else seeing you like this," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “I don't want anyone else touching you like I do. You're mine.”

He continued to mark your skin with kisses, his mouth moving along the length of your neck and down to your collarbone. He wanted to keep you like this forever, covered in his marks, in his scent. He knew he was being selfish, but he didn't care. You were his, and he wanted the world to know it.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers tangling into his hair.

The feel of your fingers in his hair only served to make him more possessive. He continued to kiss and nip at your skin, leaving a trail of love bites down your neck and chest.

“Mine,” he repeated, his voice almost a mantra. He wanted to keep saying it, as if by repeating it, he could make it more true. “All mine.”

“So… I take that I made your first time good?” you asked, a little jokingly.

Matt chuckled huskily, leaning back just enough to look into your eyes. “Good is an understatement,” he said, his voice still rough with desire. “That was… Mind-blowing. Life-changing.”

He paused, his gaze roaming over your body again, taking in the sight of you covered in his marks. “I think you ruined me for anyone else.”

“Well, I sure hope so,” you murmured before kissing him again.

He responded immediately, his mouth moving against yours with a desperate, needy hunger. He rolled you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, continuing the kiss with a fervor. He didn't want this moment to end, he wanted to revel in the feeling of your body under his, the taste of your mouth, the scent of your skin.

Between kisses, he managed to mutter, “You're the only one. The only one I'll ever need.”

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re

[tojigasm]

I've Got a Thing About You, Baby

Warnings: kissing, pet names, Logan shotguns the reader, cigars, smoking, fluff, domestic logan

It's late one night in the summer that it happens; when the air's still warm under the moonlight and the crickets hum against the breeze.

You've been watching him for the past hour or so. The trickling of smoke dancing into strange shapes and pretty lines through the screen door of the mansion, leading out to the back porch.

It's far past your bedtime, and the rest of the students and professors have long since retired to their own bedrooms.

Except for you, that is. A part of you too exhausted to actually sleep and the other too anxious to.

If you listen closely, you're able to hear the bird fountain from the garden.

You can hear the rocking chair sway back and forth against the chipped wood of the porch.

A weird feeling passes over you. It feels like the heat of the sun on a spring day, and it settles into your stomach warmly.

That feeling reminds you of home often.

You can't tell if Logan knows you're awake – scribbling away at your notes for the day and sipping Coca-Cola from the bottle through a straw. If he does, he doesn't make it known.

It's only when you make your way towards the back door, bare feet padding against the cool wood floors that you know he knows.

You wait by the door for a moment, gripping the neck of your Coca-Cola bottle as you watch him take a drag of his cigar.

You've always thought he was beautiful. The dark tufts of his hair and hazel eyes, paired with the brute strength he bears, was Renaissance-like.

You briefly wonder if he'd been alive that long.

"Y'gonna come out here or just keep staring at me like a freak?" Logan's voice breaks you from your spell and has you pushing past the screen door instantly.

You sit down in the rocking chair across from him, pulling both of your knees to your chest and your Coca-Cola to your side.

Your eyes follow him as he takes another drag of the cigar, thick brows relaxed as he exhales a pillow of white smoke and sinks into the chair.

"Why aren't you in bed?" You ask, thumbing the ends of your pajama bottoms

Logan snorts at the parroted sterness in your voice. You had to've picked that up from Jean, he thinks to himself.

"Why aren't you in bed?" He hums with a slight shake of his head, tapping his fingers holding the cigar against the armrest of the chair.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Hm," He picks at the fabric of his jeans momentarily, "is that why you were hiding behind the screen door thinkin' I couldn't see you?"

"I wasn't hiding!" You nearly jump from your seat, almost cringing at the hightened squeal of your voice.

"Right." He smirks from behind the cigar, voice laced with sarcasm as he takes another drag.

You watch him for a moment. Your skin warm from the summer air, a shiver runs up your spine.

There's something oddly paternal in his demeanor; legs spread as he rocks himself back and forth in the chair, flicking his lighter shut and throwing it back into his jean pocket.

Logan looks up momentarily, meeting your gaze through his brows, and just as quickly as he's turned away to blow smoke out into the hot air.

"Never smoked before." You comment, crossing your arms over the fronts of your legs.

Logan hums, "Good. Bad habit."

"Can I try some?"

Logan hesitates. Eyes meeting yours sternly.

"Aren't you a bit young to be trying to get people to pass off drugs to you?" You can hear the smirk in his voice before it's visible on his features.

You roll your eyes and place your Coca-Cola bottle onto the floor beside you.

"Never been one to try and get people to start bad habits." Logan adds, picking at his nail absentmindedly. "Seems to happen around me anyways."

You don't say anything to that. The pads of your fingers still folding and twisting the fabric of your pajamas.

An owl hoots from somewhere across the garden, and the crickets sing in the breeze again.

Logan turns his head towards you and folds his free hand behind his head, taking another drag of the cigar before turning it towards you.

You feel stuck. Suddenly, very aware of where you are and who you're with and the uncomfortably humbling fact that you have no idea how to actually smoke.

You hadn't realized you'd only been staring at his hand until Logan's voice peeks through your mental fog.

"C'mere, baby."

There's something domestically paternal in the deep of his tone that nearly makes your knees buckle as you shyly make your way over to him.

He makes room for you in his lap, guiding you to sit on one of his thighs.

"Y'never smoked before?" He reaffirms, resting a large hand over both of your thighs.

You shake your head.

The sound of his lighter makes you turn before Logan pulls you back towards him, lighting the end of the cigar again.

"I'll hold it fr'you. Just take a deep exhale like you're breathin', easy peasy."

You nod, watching the tobacco simmer at the end of the cigar, illuminating Logan's hand in an orangish red hue.

There's a moment of quiet where you're lost in thought, memorizing the preparedness of it. You turn towards Logan at the silence to see him watching you already, a thick brow arched.

"You gettin' shy on me?"

Immediately, you fluster at that, shaking your head with a "uh, uh." Before leaning down to wrap your lips around the end of the cigar.

Logan meets your eyes with a warm smile, "uh uh," He chides, voice pitched in mimic.

You giggle lightly before inhaling from the cigar.

It's warm against the back of your throat; a burning stroke that has you pulling away, coughing instantly. Your mouth feels dry and cotton-like as drool fills your mouth in an attempt to relax the forgein feeling.

"Woah," Logan chuckles loosely at you, stroking his hand up and down your back. "Y'okay?"

You give a weak thumbs up, smiling wobbly before bursting into a fit of coughs again.

Logan reaches for your coca-cola bottle mid giggle, bringing the straw up to your lips.

"Here, drink this. Yeah, there y'go."

The drink cools your throat, soothing the dry attack on your lungs as you gasp for clean breaths of air again.

Logan keeps his hand on your back, letting you relax into it.

"Y'okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, I didn't realize that it'd be that aggressive." Your voice still scratchy.

"I probably should've told you not to take such a deep breath," He strokes his hand over the curve of your jaw. "Sorry 'bout that, kid."

You wave him off, "it's okay."

Logan takes a drag of the cigar, thumbing it between his forefinger and middle.

"That is a bit strong, huh."

You nod.

"Here, I might have a better way to do it."

You watch as he tilts his head upwards, holding the cigar to his plush lips as he takes another inhale.

The glow of the auburn porch light creates a halo around his hair tufts and makes an outline of his sharp nose.

He blows smoke through his nose, hardly acknowledging it.

You're entranced with how easy he makes it seem, as though he's been throwing back cigars for the majority of his existence, and for all you know, he has.

Your betwitchment must be obvious on your face by the way Logan peers down slyly at you midst another drag.

He motions for you to come closer to him, curving his hand to hold your jaw steady.

Parting his lips some, a small whisp of smoke trails from his mouth as he softly says, "Open."

You can smell the burning tobacco, and it settles a warmth into you.

You part your lips, jolting slightly in his hold as he exhales the cloud of smoke into your mouth with a cocky smile.

The smoke is much easier to take this way – already diluted by whatever super regenerative powers he holds.

Logan brings you closer to meet you in a kiss, dragging his tongue over your lips and past your teeth to stroke the insides of your cheeks.

You're completely at his mercy, shivering and whimpering in his hand.

The plush of his lips has you grabbing at his forearm and gasping against him. You can feel him smile into the kiss with a hum.

He pulls off of you with a 'pop' before relasing his hand from your jaw with a smile.

"That better?"

You reduced to just stare at him.

"Maybe I need it one more time." You say under your breath, and you're almost afraid he doesn't catch it.

"Yeah? One more?" He asks, moving to hold your chin again.

"Mhm," you nod.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ take a seat ] q. hughes

day 3 of kinktober (face sitting w/ quinn hughes)

paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary: Quinn grows a playoff beard and his girlfriend loves it. the day he decides to shave it after the Canucks get eliminated, she tells him how she really feels about it and Quinn gives her the moment she’s been wanting since he started growing it before he shaves it

warning(s) : smut ! face sitting / riding, oral (f receiving), fingering

author’s note : been waiting to write this one hehe. it’s on the shorter side but i hope y'all enjoy anyway

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

The playoffs have treated her and Quinn so well. Quinn because he got to captain the Canucks to the second round after a short 3 year playoff drought. Her because Quinn grew a playoff beard over the past month or so and she's barely managed to keep her hands off of him while he was playing.

She loves everything about the playoffs, but especially the fact that Quinn hasn’t shaved in a few weeks. He looks so good with longer facial hair and she loves the way it tickles her lip when he kisses her. She kinda just wants him to go down on her for as long as possible to feel it against her core.

The thought of Quinn eating her out with the beard is enough to soak her. The feeling of his beard on her core is something she thinks about an unhealthy number of times over the course of three weeks. She’s gotten off multiple times just at the thought alone, especially when he's away playing in Nashville and Edmonton. She’s wouldn’t know what to do if it happened.

But the Canucks were eliminated by Edmonton last night so it’s time for Quinn to shave off the beard he has spent the past few weeks growing. He doesn't do it the day after their season ends because he wants to just lay around and have the laziest day ever, so she gets an extra day to admire him.

The morning of the day Quinn wants to shave his beard though, she wakes up before he does. He stopped setting alarms once the Canucks got eliminated two nights ago but she is naturally an early riser. She doesn't dare move because part of Quinn's morning routine is shaving. If she moves and wakes him up, he's going to go shave and that's the last thing she wants right now.

She softly sighs as morning Vancouver sun creates a muted orange glow throughout the room. Quinn already looks so good and he's not even awake yet.

All because of that stupid beard he grew.

Quinn begins to stir moments after she wakes. His eyes flutter open and look bright in the morning sunlight.

"It's creepy to stare at people while they sleep, baby," he tells her, his voice slurred since he just woke up. Also kind of raspy, which she loves.

"Not my fault you look pretty all the time," she replies. "I also just woke up a few minutes ago so give me a break. I wanted to admire my boyfriend before he woke up and started making comments that ruined the whole vibe."

He groans and rubs his face. He touches his facial hair and hums. "I gotta go get rid of this mess," he says. "Then you can admire me all you want, okay?"

Her eyes widen and Quinn begins to move to get out of bed. She quickly grabs his arm to stop him from getting any further.

"I like that mess," she finally admits to him. He turns back around and looks at her. She begins to talk before her brain can catch up to what she's saying. "I mean, you look really hot with that mess on your face. Except, I don't think it's a mess. I wish you wouldn't run off and shave it first chance you get."

Quinn blinks at her slowly like he's processing what she said to him. A smile grows on his lips and she presses her lips into a line.

"Come here," Quinn tells her as he lays back down. She blinks at him, confused. "I know you've thought about it. I've seen the way that you would look at me then excuse yourself to go use the bathroom." She feels her face get hot in embarrassment. She thought she was more subtle than she actually was.

She plays with her fingers while she watches Quinn get comfortable. "Quinn, I-"

"Come take a seat, pretty girl," he interrupts as he runs his fingers over his beard. "Sit on and ride my face. I know you want to so I am giving you what you want before I go shave."

Who is she to say no to him? He's offering so she might as well take it.

Without anymore hesitation, she moves so she's kneeling above his face with her knees on the pillow on either side of his head. Lucky for her, she's only wearing one of Quinn's Canucks t-shirts and a pair of underwear. Nothing else.

Quinn kisses the inside of her thigh right by her core while he pushes the fabric of the t-shirt up. She hums softly as her body finally begins to wake up. She feels the gentle scratch of his facial hair on her skin and she gnaws on her bottom lip. "Oh my God," she sighs.

"I haven't even done anything yet," Quinn laughs.

"Shut up and do something then," she retorts. "Please, Quinn." She's not above begging at this point.

He licks a stripe over her panties, which are soaked by now. Like she said, the thought alone makes her drip. His finger follows his tongue and she hums. Quinn pushes the fabric to the side and runs a finger through her soaked folds. She bites down on her bottom lip to keep from making any loud noises since it is morning and their neighbors are probably still sleeping.

She grabs onto the headboard above Quinn's head as he runs his tongue through her folds. "Fuck, Quinn!" She cries out. "Oh my God."

The feeling of the gentle scratch of his facial hair is almost too much for her. Quinn wraps his lips around her clit and hums, sending a shock through her body. It almost jumpstarts her own movements as she begins to roll her hips.

"That's it, baby," Quinn says against her core. "Take what you want."

His hands rest on her waist and he pulls her down so she's completely sitting on his face but he's still able to breathe. His tongue continues to run through her folds as she rolls her hips. Her core grinds across his face and she feels the scratch of his facial hair with each movement. She welcomes the new feeling. It only adds to her pleasure despite the beard burn she'll probably have when all this is over.

Quinn hums every so often, and she groans with every hum. Her grip on the headboard gets stronger the longer she moves. She's almost afraid that she'll lose her balance despite his hands keeping her from falling.

One of his hands slides up under the loose t-shirt and cups her breast. She throws her head back and lets out a borderline pornographic moan as she continues to ride Quinn's face. One of her hands flies to Quinn's messy hair, fingers finding a home.

He slides his other hand so his thumb can access her clit. He rubs the sensitive nub while continuing to run his tongue though her folds with each movement. "Oh my fucking- Quinn," she cries out. "Holy-"

"Look so pretty riding my face, pretty girl," Quinn mumbles. His words shoot straight to her core. "Fuck."

His thumb moves and slides into her. She gasps and her movement falters for a second while she recovers from the addition. "Quinn," she groans, holding the 'N' sound.

Between his tongue, his thumb, and his facial hair, she's not sure how she hasn't come all over his face by now. Her legs are shaking so she has to stop moving, but Quinn completely takes over despite being under her.

He speeds up his thumb for a second before switching fingers, using his pointer and middle fingers instead. She welcomes the familiar stretch.

His fingers and tongue are enough to bring her to the edge. She's white-knuckling the headboard with one hand while her other hand remains in Quinn's hair.

"Gonna come," she pants. "Quinn. I'm close."

"Told you to take what you want," Quinn replies. "So take what you want."

Quinn speeds up his fingers and curls them in a 'come here' motion. The gentle scratch of his facial hair turns less gentle as he speeds up his tongue movements, but she still loves it.

She throws her head back and cries out his name as she comes. She involuntarily rolls her own hips so her core grinds against his face again. Her fingers curl in his locks so she has something to hold on to as she reaches her climax. She loses her vision for half a second because of how hard her orgasm hits her.

Her body turns to jelly as she recovers. With Quinn's help, she's able to lie back down beside him. Her breathing is labored and she stares up at the ceiling, unable to move to look at her boyfriend.

All this morning showed her is that Quinn needs to grow out his facial hair more often because it made her come harder than she ever has before. She can't move for about ten minutes after her orgasm.

When she's fully conscious again, she looks over at Quinn. He didn't go and shave yet.

"I think I'm going to keep this for another day or two," he tells her. "Just for you. That is going to happen a few more times before it goes away."

She smiles and rolls so she can touch his face. "I'm going to need you to grow it out like this again soon because holy shit, Quinn," she giggles. "So hot. Felt so good."

Quinn matches her smile. "Maybe over the summer," he tells her. "No promises though."

"Gonna need my favorite seat back at some point."

"Next year when we make playoffs against for sure."

༺──────────────༻

MAIN MASTERLIST

wanna be added to the kinktober taglist ? fill out this form !!

taglist : @katie-the-bookworm @mommahughes19-23 @ceces-obsessions @pucks-goals-penalties @justwanderingbutneverlost @alwaysclassyeagle @Zegrashughes @unicorns3993 @herbouqetbasement @haechanslovey @this-ass-is-eikonic @scoupsdetyong @themotogirl @iclyj @devilsandpensfan @loveforaugust @estapa94 @flysdaleflyby @lunaloves9 @beez-86 @h0e4fictionalme-n @orphicdreamers-wp @goalsongspinkthongs @hischierswhore @hughescanucks

[lvlyghost]

Remnants

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You got hurt and Simon finds out.

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

TW: bruises, slight angst. reader missing simon. also fluff think that's it. lmk if i missed any. also poorly edited and not proofread. mind the english!🤭✨🤍

A/N: this is so self indulgent. embarrassing how much time it took to get out because i've had this idea for two weeks now. anyway enjoy!💛

Masterlist✨

Laying in bed until it was late was part of your daily routine when Simon was off on deployment. Too tired to even get up when he wasn't around to wake you at 7:00 a.m.

He was a morning person unlike you.

You remember the days he would drag you against him by the waist mumbling something about being too late to be in bed, to which you had groggily bit back and slapped his arm in a playful manner. Then he would be gone for months, leaving nothing but an empty bed and the absence of his deep voice to fill your ears. Feeling that made your eyes well with tears and your heart ache. What if I don't see him again? What if that was the last time I ever felt his touch?

Shaking your head you pull yourself out of the comfort of your shared bed, taking a quick bath before preparing yourself a nice breakfast.

Winter is starting to settle in and your favorite thing to wear is his black hoodie. The one that swallows you entirely. It smells like him, it's almost like being embraced by him.

"Come on don't cry now." rubbing your eyes with the hem of the sleeves. Traitorous, salty droplets spilling down. "Jesus." Taking a deep breath you calm yourself and the ache gradually stops.

The kitchen is somewhat cold despite the heater turned on. You watch as the coffee brews —the one he dislikes— you smile again although small. Barely a quirk of your lips at the thought of him looking intently at you as you take a sip and offer him one.

'Bloody incorrigible.' He had muttered.

But you had seen him smiling that day as well, as different as you both were from one another, the love you two held couldn't be denied, nor broken.

That's why when the front door creaks open your eyes widen, legs moving faster than your brain can register. Socked feet dragging across the wooden floor nearly slipping. Simon stands stall, the door closing behind him as he lowers the black duffel bag on the floor.

"Are you really back?" Your lower lip trembles, the emotion too heavy to hold it back.

"Come here, love." You lunge forward, collapsing against his body. Simon's quick to catch you with strong arms holding you. Bodies pressed together. He can finally let himself breathe. The smell of your home, the smell of that awful coffee you love, the aroma of your shampoo and perfume that drives him absolutely crazy. He pulls his mask off and his mouth is soon against your soft lips. Oh how he missed you. He missed this, his girl softly caressing his face standing on your tiptoes. Simon grumbled, when he feels the air shift and you pull back, his brown eyes glimmer with devotion.

"Don't worry there's tea for you. Plenty. I made sure of that for when you returned." He inhales deeply, kissing you once again on the forehead. Taking his hand you lead him to the kitchen to serve both the breakfast you've been working on. "How are the boys?" You ask taking two mugs out of the top cabinet.

"A bit more scarred than before but they're good." He comes behind you lingering close —too close— to your back. "Price wants a reunion. Told him I'd let you decide."

"You already know I'll say yes." He hums watching you pour some water in the kettle and waiting for it to boil. "Black or chamomile?"

"Black." You try to move around as much as you can with him caging you from behind. Giggling when he once again kisses you on the temple. "Alright, let me see you again..."

Simon grabs you by the forearm it's not hard, it's gentle but firm. Firm enough to hurt your neglected limb. You shriek, a loud 'no' leaves your lips as you stumble back and away from him, soothing the place where he had touched you. It hurt so much but you quickly regret your reaction knowing it'd spark something within him.

Simon's eyes go wide, then his brows furrow so hard you can see the small line that could leave a permanent mark on his forehead.

"What was that?" He growled. The distance you put between you and him is cut off by his long strides.

"It's nothing, I- I swear." You trail off, searching for an explanation. But he's smart and he won't let this pass.

Few things could make him lose his temper, you lying about your wellbeing was one of the top on the list.

"Show me." He demands and the way his eyes pierce through every part of you leaves no room for discussion.

Rolling up your sleeves you hold out your forearms. Simon's jaw clenches so hard you're certain he's cracked some of his teeth. Eyes set on your damaged limb; red and purple bruises on your skin. They're so fucking big and he has to remember how to breathe and control his emotions. "How?" His eyes shot back to yours, awaiting.

"I promise it's not what you're thinking Simon."

"Don't give me that. I asked you a question." he takes one of them careful not to press too hard as he brushes his thumb over one of them. Fucking hell. It's swollen.

"Just work Simon. I had to carry big boxes and you know I'm not that strong, that's it. So stop thinking the worst, yeah?"

Sighing he lets go of your arm, the anger slowly ebbs and he feels fucking tired. He thought the worst. No one could blame him, it was in his DNA.

"Next time let me know beforehand, bloody hell love."

You give him a quick hug.

"I still might have to have a talk with your cunt boss."

You snort.

"No you won't." You declare, motioning for him to follow back. "Tea's ready."

Oh, but he would definitely pay him a visit.

[yunjardi]

SIZE TRAINING WITH JAKE

------------------------------------------------------

pairing: boyfriend!jake x girlfriend!reader

content warnings: smut [mdni], uprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap), size training, use of sex toys, dirty-talking, pet names (good girl, baby, princess, love), praise, fingering, spanking, oral (both receiving), lmk if i missed anything!

wc: 1.9k [short, i'm sorry guys :''( ]

a/n: another little drabble from me 2 u <3 ily my fellow jake sluts

------------------------------------------------------

"i promise it won't hurt me," you pouted at your longtime boyfriend, jake, "we'll never know if we don't try."

you and jake had been together for quite some time now but have yet to have actual sex with one another.

sure, you've done things of sexual nature, but it pales in comparison to actually having 'real' sex. it's not like you were getting tired of getting eaten out and fingered by jake- you simply wanted to experience more of him.

and oh god did jake want to experience more of you.

the reason you two haven't gone as far as penetration was simply because of jake's size.

it seems cocky (no pun intended) for jake to say he's worried that he won't fit, but it's a genuine worry of his.

even you had to admit that his little fear was completely justified.

jake's dick really is huge.

even though you've seen his dick a million times, his size never fails to amaze you. he 100% gets an ego boost whenever he sees your eyes light up in surprise every time you see his dick.

"okay, love, we can try," jake agreed with a reassuring smile, taking you by surprise, "but that doesn't mean that i'm not terrified of hurting you, though." he managed to let out a chuckle despite his nervousness.

you never thought you'd see the day where he would finally succumb to your begging, but luckily, you were already a few steps ahead of him.

"don't worry, jakey, i've come prepared," you couldn't help but smirk, "wait here."

you got up from the bed and walked into your closet, soon walking out with a box containing three sex toys that you'd been meaning to show jake.

sitting back down on the bed, you opened the box to present the toys to him, each one getting progressively bigger than the last. jake was surprised at how dedicated you seemed to this whole process, and it turned him on to say the least.

"if you're so ready for this, you should hurry and take your panties off," jake smirked as he pulled you closer, now toying with the waistband of your panties. you let out a quiet whimper at his actions before obeying his orders, throwing your panties off to the side and crawling onto his lap, your bare cunt now on his sweatpants.

"that's more like it," jake chuckled sexily as he reached his hand down to your pussy, feeling how wet you've become, "look at you, you don't even have to be prepped. such a good girl for me." you nodded as you subconsciously began grinding your hips down onto his hand, craving his touch in the place where you needed it the most.

"aren't you supposed to be fucking the toys, baby? keep being a good girl and let me see how good you are at taking that puny sex toy," jake scolded you whilst pushing the box of sex toys toward you and urging you to pick one up to start using it.

you, of course, obeyed.

jake helped you get comfortable against the headboard before beginning to tease you once again, taking the first sex toy out of your hand and gliding it against your clit. jake couldn't help but get even more turned on at how sensitive you were despite the sex toy not even being inside you yet.

you let jake gently slide the sex toy inside you, your breath hitching slightly when it was fully inside you.

"you're doing so good, princess," jake cooed as he slowly pushed the toy in and out of your sensitive hole. you nodded with glossy eyes, trying to hold back your moans as jake picked up the pace.

suddenly, jake discarded the first toy, setting it off to the side before bringing his hand down to your entrance and swiftly inserting one of his long fingers, causing you to let out a soft moan at the unexpected sensation of his touch.

"jake-" you gasped out as he curved his finger upwards, grabbing onto his other hand for support as he added in another one of his digits. he couldn't help himself from lowering his head to get a taste of your cunt as he fingered you. come on, how could he possibly pass up an opportunity to tease you with both his fingers and his tongue?

your eyes rolled back as jake swirled his tongue on your sensitive clit while also still working his fingers in and out of you.

jake could fully get off by just simply doing this, but he had to remember the main objective at hand.

stopping suddenly, jake reached off to the side to fetch the second of the three sex toys, this one slightly bigger and wider than the previous. you held onto jake's hand as he slowly inched the new toy inside you, this one more of a struggle to take than the last.

"look at that, baby," jake flashed a pretty smirk, "you're getting better at this." he brought his gaze down to your stuffed entrance, the toy stretching you out just a bit more than the last. jake began to move the toy in and out of you gentler than last time, still worried that you may get hurt.

you couldn't help but squirm under his touch, becoming more and more eager to take him.

it hadn't even been 5 minutes with the new sex toy when you started to become desperate.

desperate for more.

desperate for jake's touch.

"babe, i need you," you managed to breathe out through the moans that escaped your lips, "now, please."

jake's ears turned red at your sudden begging, his pants somehow getting even tighter than they were before which he didn't think was possible.

"b-but we haven't even gotten to the last toy yet-"

"i need you to shut up and fuck me already; i can't take it anymore."

to say that jake took your statement and ran with it would be an understatement.

immediately, jake practically threw the sex toy to the side and took it upon himself to spread your legs further apart to get an even better view of your desperate hole. he could tell just by looking that fitting his entire cock in you would be a difficult feat.

"i'm worried about you, princess. i'm not sure if you can take it," jake teased as he slowly let his fingers glide up and down your soaking entrance which caused goosebumps to form all over your body.

"i can," you rebutted, growing impatient, "let me show you."

you scooted closer to jake and began to toy with the waistband of his sweatpants, causing his breath to get caught in his throat due to the suddenness of your actions. slowly, you pulled both his sweats and boxers down to reveal his throbbing cock. you couldn't help but moan at the sight before taking it into your hand and spitting on his tip, feeling the weight of it against your palm.

"fuck," jake breathed out with a deep groan, admiring you as you lowered your head down to his cock before finally connecting your tongue to it. jake tangled his fingers in your hair as you sucked on his sensitive tip, eventually letting more of his cock slide down your throat.

unexpectedly, jake motioned for you to sit back.

"i need to fuck you right know, baby; you have no idea."

you slowly leaned closer to jake before kissing him passionately.

"show me then."

at that, jake had you positioned on your back, readying you to take him.

butterflies erupted in your stomach as you watched jake line his tip up to your entrance before grabbing your hand. you nodded at him as a signal that you were ready.

jake ever so gently let his tip pass through your entrance, not being able to stop himself from letting out a groan at the sensation of finally feeling your tight walls squeeze around his cock. you were surprised at how quickly the soreness turned to pleasure although he was barely halfway inside you, beginning to moan at the feeling alongside him.

"does it feel good, jake?" you asked him shyly.

"so fucking good, princess," he responded before leaving a kiss on your neck.

before you knew it, jake bottomed out, his tip finding a resting place at your sweet spot which caused you to let out a whimper as you squeezed his hand.

his movements were painfully slow at first due to him not wanting to hurt you, but that only caused your desire to burn deeper.

"jake, i need more," you managed to whimper out between his thrusts.

"yeah? turn around then, princess," jake smirked, "fuck, i've been waiting for this." he couldn't help but suck in a breath once you turned around for him, your pretty ass on display for him and only him.

he left a harsh spank on your ass before gently sliding his cock back inside you, earning a moan from you. your eyes rolled back at almost every single on of jake's thrusts, almost rendering you silent at times as your brain and body struggled to process the copious amount of pleasure jake provided.

jake kept a tight grip on your hips as he thrusted deep inside you, feeding off your pleas for him to keep going though he was unsure of how much longer he'd last. your walls held onto every inch of his cock, desperately squeezing him with every movement no matter the velocity,

the feeling of finally having him inside you was euphoric to both yourself and him as you both kept a tight hold on whichever one of each other's body parts either of you could manage to grab a hold of.

it didn't take long for jake to feel a familiar sensation. that familiar sensation. the one he'd only ever been able to feel against his fingers until this very moment.

"can't hold on any longer, hm?" jake panted out as he used his strength to lift your upper body toward his, your back now flush against his toned chest, "do it, then. cum for me, princess." his words almost demanding and stern, or what you'd simply call hot if you weren't so dazed from his cock to the point that he has you thinking in shakespearean.

at that, you finally let the coil that was slowly building itself up in your core let itself loose.

the feeling of your arousal coating his length sent his mind into a frenzy, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. his strokes became sloppier as you ravished in his comforting yet arousing touch.

you didn't care that you could already feel your cunt becoming sore; you wanted more and jake was more than happy to please you to your absolute limit. that being said, you let him pound your pussy until he reached his climax. the two of you moaned in sync as a mix of his seed and your warm arousal wept from between your legs.

jake gently lowered your body back down onto the bed as he sexily brushed his hair back with his veiny hand. his unintentional sex-appeal drove you insane even immediately after you just let him fuck you silly - it almost gave you the confidence to ask for a second round if you were being completely honest, but alas, you were already sore enough and didn't want to push your luck.

"thank god we finally did that," jake looked up to the ceiling before turning over to give you a kiss, "i hope you're ready to do it even more because i'm afraid i can't get enough of you, baby."

"so does that mean..."

"round two?"

------------------------------------------------------

a/n: I AM NOT AFRAID OF MONSTER COCK JAKE TRUTHING ‼️‼️

taglist: @axartia @jjhmk @valiantwastelanddelusion @jayroseyy @ayohahaha @asaheyow @lhsng @bunhoons @red-xherry @duolingofanaccount @leeis @jaeyunology @green-orangeade @imbaeksbae @sunghoonmybeloved @sh1mja4yun @leeheeheeseung @shjsnjkj

©yunjardi on tumblr 2025

[tasteracha]

the cat that got the cream.

a/n: well. i did it. also, i can't believe this is the first time i've written a daddy kink???? that's crazy. anyways. warnings: reader has a pussy, daddy!kink, minho calls reader kitten. SMUT - MINORS DNI. <1k.

you knew minho was working; he had told you he would be occupied for the rest of the night with an apology and a kiss to your forehead, but you were horny and he has never denied you before. you pad into the bedroom, the only thing keeping you from being completely naked is his white button up shirt that you had been wearing all day.

“daddy,” you tug at the bottom of the shirt, rolling the material between your fingers.

“daddy’s busy, kitten,” he looks away from his computer screen for a moment and your face is reflected in his glasses. you look a little pitiful, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you give him your widest-eyed stare.

“i don’t want to disturb you, i just…” you trail off, taking a step closer to him. “need you.” 

“you can play with yourself for a bit, can’t you?” he asks, taking one of your hands in his and dragging his thumb against your skin. he returns his attention to the screen and lets go of your hand, and your body sways towards him with the lack of touch. 

“i tried,” you pout, but it goes unnoticed by him. “can’t do it without you.” 

“fuck,” he sucks in air through his teeth, glancing between you and his computer a few times. “alright, come here.” 

he stands and your entire body sings, ready for him to drag you to bed and have his way for you, but you’re stopped short when he takes his pants off and settles back into his desk chair. he pulls you by the arm and settles you into his lap, both of your legs straddling his thigh with his arms around you. 

no, not around you. reaching past you so that he could keep typing away at his computer. 

“what?” you turn your head towards his, leaning in to whisper your lips against his, but he pulls back. 

“i said i was busy,” he tuts, pushing your head back gently until your chin was tucked away against his neck. “get yourself off, kitten. i need to get my work done.”

you flush so hard you feel lightheaded - he wants you to get yourself off on his thigh while he works? you should feel offended but instead a rush of thrill sparks up your spine and your hips move on their own accord. your bare pussy slides against his thigh, the wetness from you collecting with every twitch of your body, and it feels good. 

the sound of your breathing pairs with the clacking of his fingers against the keyboard. you push past the embarrassment of him letting you use his body like this as he ignores you completely, as if you were truly one of his cats begging for his attention. you lean into it fully, bracing your hands against his chest as you roll your hips back and forth, back and forth, gasping when your clit brushes directly against his skin. 

“fuck, daddy,” you moan out to deaf ears, unable to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “feels so- so good.” 

you’re not close yet, but the feeling is so good that it doesn’t matter whether you come or not. you drift into the pleasure, your body moving on its own as you bury your head in the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. you don’t realize how long you’ve been going at it until you start sweating, your muscles settling into soreness as you start to slow down. 

you also don’t notice that the sound of typing has stopped, but you feel the hands that grip at your waist as if they were molten hot, the pads of minho’s fingers searing into you like a brand. he tugs at you sharply, your pussy digging into his thigh in a way that makes your entire body jerk. he pulls you back and jerks you forward again, riding you against his thigh like you were a toy. 

“that’s it,” he whispers into your ear, keeping his pase fast and brutal. “you’re doing so good for me kitten.”

the praise filters through your head even though you truly weren’t doing anything, and as you come your vision whites out and the noise in your ears turns gray and staticky. when you come back to yourself you’re still on his lap, nestled into his body perfectly. 

“thank you, min,” you mumble, nuzzling him with your head and closing your tired eyes. 

“of course, kitten,” are the last words you hear, drifting off with a satisfied smile on your face, looking like a cat that just got the sweetest cream.

[oceantornadoo]

part two - outlaw!simon x reader who was supposed to marry johnny (rip)

when you wake in the morning, there is no husband in your bed and an angry sheriff at your door.

the missing husband is a later problem. you snatch your worn dressing gown from your nearby chair, shirking it on over your night shift as you head towards the door. you grab your rifle on the way, noting simon had unloaded it when you weren't paying attention. bastard.

"mornin' ma'am." sheriff graves is a sunny character on your doorstep, western sun and a shifty smile. you mutter a greeting back, wondering why in god's name he is pounding at your door when the sun has barely touched the sky. "did ya have any trouble last night? there's rumors of an outlaw group on the edge of town." you shake your head, gaze holding firm. "no, sir. woulda shot 'em if i did." he nods, then looks down at his boots. "and that husband of yours? he at home, protectin' his wife?" ah, so that's why he's here. everyone knows you are married but no one's ever met the guy, seeing as he's been journeying over mountains and grasslands to get to you. sheriff graves is well aware of your lonesome self, just you and your rifle. "he's around, sir. i'll be introducin' him to yall soon enough. 'course, we're spendin' some time together as man and wife first."

his pupils go wide at your insinuation, not ladylike in the slightest. 'course, you are a barmaid, so what's to be expected of you? "i see. well, i'll leave you to your mornin', ma'am." if he really wanted to give you your morning, he wouldn't have woken you up so early, but you weren't going to give him that much attitude. "good day, sheriff." you close the door when his boots are still in its shadow, a little too close to be polite.

"you protectin' me, darlin'?" you jump at his voice, nearly scaring you out of your gown. "good lord, give a girl some warning!" he's fully dressed, hiding in the shadows of your pantry in a full-black outfit. you take in the bandana hiding his face, the all-black chaps encasing his thick thighs, and the holsters strapped and loaded. "you're up early." he grunts, coming closer. simon checks the door lock, then pushes you up against it with his body, his arms coming to hold the wall over your head. "had t' water my horse. you miss me?" you shake your head vehemently. "you snore. you will not be gettin' in my bed again soundin' like a freight train." instead of taking offense, he laughs, all gravel in your ear. "johnny woulda loved you."

you can tell he regrets saying it the moment it leaves his lips. his body tightens, that easy flirtation dying in the wind. "you miss him?" you ask quietly, testing the lines between you. "everyday. less now, i think. got a spitfire to take care of." unwillingly you lean closer, crossing your arms over your chest. "you better be talkin' about your horse." he grumbles something unintelligible, one hand leaving the wall to ghost against your hip. you're reminded of last night, of his rough embrace and warm arms.

"hips up for me, sweetheart. there ya go." simon places a pillow underneath your hips, the angle revealing more of your cunt to him. you whine as he stares, hips bucking as if to entice him. "y'r so needy, darlin'." you moan, one leg reaching out around his waist to tug him closer. he lets out a laugh as you line up your pelvises, the rough material of his pants rubbing against your bare body.

"i've been horny. can't fuck anyone when you're married, apparently." he hums, opting to trace the line of your jaw instead of the seam of your cunt. "still, coulda been a killer, yet you opened up so easily for me." embarassment courses through your body but you refuse to feel the shame along with it. you reach out your hands to find his zipper, tugging it down when he doesn't stop you. "you're no killer. if johnny trusted you, so do i." your hand finds his cock beneath the layers of his clothes, tugging it out slowly. he hisses when it meets the cool night air, already so hard and ready to go. "don't go makin' assumptions about me, sweetheart. there's a lot you don't know."

the fear hits you for a moment. a realization that this man could be lying completely, some stranger off the street who barreled his way into your home. you search his eyes for the truth, sticking to your belief in the good in people. you find it in his gaze; he's trying to scare you. you smirk at the thought, this big tough man wanting to scare you, a lady living on her own in the wild west. takes a lot more to do that. "can i put it in?" you refuse to acknowledge what he said, gripping his cock tightly and tapping it against your opening. he's already made you come twice, once on the kitchen table and another against the door, but you still need to be full. "yeah baby, put it in."

you shake out of your daydream, noting the moving path of the sun lighting the outline of simon's body. "c'mon, i'll show you where my stable is. and then maybe, if you're good, you can come to my shift at the pub later." he snorts, one hand on your hip. the feeling of possession is alien. you've spent so many nights dreaming of johnny, dreaming of having a husband, that simon's presence feels like something you need to wake up from. he could be a figment of your imagination, you decide, watching him untie his horse from a nearby tree and bring her over. instead of walking down that mental path, you take another step towards this outlaw of a husband and try to shake off the butterflies in your stomach.

--

PART FOUR

yes he's wearing the gunslinger fit idc but with the bandana (i couldn't find a good pic)

tag list:

@chickennn-soupp

@vmaxis

@samanthamarkle92

@sinful-tawtute

@nightingale2124

@scottpilgrimvsmyfists

@saucypeanuttt

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

CAN WE HAVE SOME SMUT FROM YEWWWW PLEASEUHHH WHENEVER YOU HAVE THE TIME AND MOTIVATION AND IDEAS PLEASEUH I'M DYING

Provoked

Tags: obsessed!Toji x fem!Reader, yandere elements if you squint, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, somnophilia at the end, nsfw, mdni,

Synopsis: Making Toji jealous probably wasn’t the smartest idea. Now, was it?

An: Following in suit with my theme of jealousy this week lol. You didn’t really give me any other guidelines other than smut soooo I took some creative liberties 😅

“Yeeaahh.. not makin’ doe eyes at him now, are ya?” Toji taunted as his large hand gripped ahold of your chin, forcing your languid gaze to focus on him.

The room was filled with pornographic sounds of Toji’s cock effortlessly sliding in and out of your wet heat. Your voice is high-pitched and whiny — a telltale sign that he’s already made you cum a few times.

“T-toji.. I can’t… ah~ please, I’m sorry.” You’re barely able to form your own thoughts as he mercilessly pounds himself into your weeping cunt.

You should’ve been wiser than to make Toji jealous on purpose, and you should’ve never even thought about making him jealous with his own handler, Shiu Kong.

Toji’s anger had been building all day long. He was barely holding himself together when your hand brushed against Shiu’s shoulder. You looked up at his handler with bedroom eyes that should only be reserved for him.

Toji’s hand slides down, and he grips the sides of your throat adding a bit of pressure as he continues his harsh thrusts. The entire bed was creaking and moving from the furiousness he was fucking you with.

“Nah… not good enough.” Toji laughs, and he leans in closer to your face. He’s always been a man who prefers bending you over to fuck you from behind, but today, he needs to see those pretty tears in your eyes. He needs to see you looking at him like he was the only man on this earth. Hence why he has you in a full mating press.

"I should kill him for looking at you like he did. Gouge his eyes out for looking at my woman. My. Woman."

“Fuck.. fuck.. ah~” You’re a complete babbling mess underneath him. “Too much, T-toji… mmph~ it’s too much!!”

“You always say that, and you always end up taking more anyways.” Toji casually laughs. He loves bringing you to the brink of breaking just to nurse you back to health afterwards. You need him — not a man like Shiu. Shiu wouldn't take care of you like this. He couldn't cherish and fuck your cunt like Toji could.

“So just shut up.. and take this dick like a good girl, yeah?” His hand wraps tightly around your hip, forcing you back into the mattress while his hips start to snap forward harder, nearly knocking the breath out of you with each thrust.

"Oh fuck-! Tojii~.. mmmph.." You can't hold back your noises. His dick feels like it's trying to touch you womb with how he has your body folded like a pretzel.

"Maybe I should breed this cute cunt, huh? Make your tummy all... ngh... nice and round with my baby. No man will be able to look at ya without... mmf-... knowin' I've been deep in your guts." Toji knows you're getting overstimulated as fat tears slips down your cheeks. His tongue darts out, and he savors the taste of your complete submission to him.

"G-gonna cum..." You whimper quietly. Your hands are fisting and pulling at the bedsheets, trying to cope with the immense pressure building up from his cock bumping into all the right places.

"Cum on my cock, baby. Cum on daddy's fat cock. I've got you." He coos so lovingly as if he isn't rudely shoving his full length in and out of you. Your sopping wet folds accept him in each and every time.

Toji feels his head start to spin as he feels your gummy walls squeeze around him so deliciously. "Gonna give you my baby.. you want that?"

"P-please Toji!" Your back arches up off the bed, and you hold your breath until your orgasm finally crashes over you.

"Aw, did you just cum again? Must really want me to breed ya." Toji's thrusts start to become sloppier, and his brain is so fixated on the idea of cumming inside you. He can't even think straight. He needs to see your tummy bulging with his cum.

"Gonna make you a pretty mommy. Ngh~" His cock twitches violently inside you as cum erupts from his tip, filling you up to the brim. His breath is shaky as he looks down at your poor exhausted expression.

"You alright there, mama?" He asks tenderly, as he slowly allows for your legs to slide off his shoulders.

"Mhmm.. just tired." You murmur back to him, barely able to keep your eyelids open.

"Get some rest, ma. I'm just gonna give you a bit more of my cum... to make sure it takes, yeah?" He presses a wet kiss to your temple, and in your drowsy state, you can already feel him start to slowly pump himself in and out of you. He's careful not to wake you. After all, you're going to need all your energy to carry his baby <3

[tacticaldiary]

A Fighting Chance

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

Part 2, Masterlist,

"What're those?"

"Papers."

Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.

The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.

It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.

There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.

But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.

He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"

"I want a divorce."

And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.

"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.

Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."

"I did. I won't sign them."

"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.

"I don't."

She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.

"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."

"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.

Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.

When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.

"Why?"

Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.

"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.

"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"

Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.

"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.

"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."

It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.

"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.

He's about to lose her.

Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.

It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.

"I don't think you do."

Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.

Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.

"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.

If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.

"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."

She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."

"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"

"Simon-"

"A week."

"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"

"One week."

She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.

"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."

"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.

"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.

Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.

When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?

Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.

He takes her in quietly for a moment.

The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.

Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.

A right fucking bastard he was for it.

"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"

For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.

But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.

And it's all he needs.

A fighting chance.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

Part 2

(11/10/2023)