#sometimes i just never respond to asks so that i can go back and read them later lmao
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Cheeky Fic reblog . . . The Letter
Because it came to mind while reading some of the RP blogs today.
(Can be read on AO3 here)
Warnings for grief/mourning and mention of death. I may have cried while writing this.
Response to another Flash Fiction Friday prompt (#162 - The Letter) Scott finds an old letter, written by a young Virgil, that stirs some painful memories.
“Scott?” Virgil approached his big brother quietly, cautiously. “Are you okay?”
The piece of paper he held was shaking slightly, and when Scott looked up at Virgil his sapphire blues were glistening with unshed tears.
“I …” he swallowed hard and held the fragile piece of slightly yellowed paper out for Virgil to see. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Virgil’s eyes widened as he scanned the handwritten words on the page and recognised the content.
“Where did you find this?” Scott seemed unable to respond for a moment, but Virgil’s eyes were glued to the page. Some of the ink was smudged with some kind of water damage – two distinct round spots near the bottom of the page – but the paper was dry, the damage old. “I mean, I remember writing it but I don’t remember keeping it, or giving it to anyone.”
Scott pointed to the pieces of a picture frame on the desk. The frame that usually held one of the last photographs of all five boys with both parents. Along side the photo and the broken frame were a few other small pieces of paper, some with their mother’s handwriting on them, a pressed flower that Virgil recognised as one of Mom’s favourites and a scrap of embroidered fabric.
“Dad must have kept these things hidden in the back of the frame. Reminders of her, I guess. But the letter …”
Dear Mom,
I don’t really know why I’m writing this letter. I just miss you so much and I didn’t know what else to do.
I wanted to talk to Scott because we always tell each other everything, but I don’t think he really wants to talk about this right now. I know he’s hurting just like we all are but he seems to be coping by keeping everything as normal as possible for everyone else. Especially Alan.
Scott is the one making sure all the chores get done and everyone gets to where they need to be on time and does their homework and stuff. He’s taken charge, which is good because Dad’s not really doing that right now, but it’s bad because I think Scott’s not letting himself be sad that you’re gone. He’s trying not to give himself time to think about it.
I can’t talk to Dad. No one can. Except maybe Grandma sometimes. He went back to work so quick after the funeral and he stays there late a lot. When he is home it’s like he hides in his office. I’m not sure, but I think being in the house with all of us but not you hurts him too much. Sometimes it even feels like he can’t look at us without seeing that you’re missing.
Gordon and Alan are too little. I mean Alan still asks when you’ll be coming home. He doesn’t understand what never means and Scott and John and I don’t really know how to explain it, so we just don’t and hug him tight instead.
Gordon is old enough to understand death means we never get to have you here with us anymore but he wants to know why Heaven can’t have visitors. He has so many things he wants to show you and ask you about. I hope it’s okay I told him he could always talk to you because you can still listen even if you can’t answer.
Sometimes I worry a bit about John. I can’t talk to him about this stuff either because I know he’s struggling with it too. He’s gone quiet. Even more quiet than normal. He still helps with Alan and Gordon and does all his chores but I don’t think I’ve seen him smile or heard him laugh since you died. Not even when Allie and Gordon get up to their mischief. Plus he hasn’t gone up to the roof to look at the stars at all in ages. Not even when I offered to go up with him. I know you two used to stargaze together. I wish you could let him know it’s okay for him to do that without you.
Mom, it’s so hard without you. Sometimes I don’t know what to do and I know that if you were here you would have the answers and I feel so lost because I don’t know who else to turn to. I miss you so much and I wish more than anything that I could have you back just for a day.
Love you always, Virgil.
“Why would he keep this?” Virgil’s fingers traced the creases where the paper had been repeatedly folded. “How did he even get hold of it in the first place?”
“Why did you write it?”
Virgil finally tore his eyes away from the letter and looked back at Scott. He couldn’t form the words to explain, but some of the emotional turmoil he felt was mirrored in his brother’s face and he realised he didn’t have to. And suddenly his big brother was wrapping him in a welcome embrace.
“You were grieving and felt like you had no one you could confide in,” Scott said softly. “I think when Dad found it he realised he needed to be there for us more and kept it to remind him of that. We should have been there for you, Virge. I’m sorry.”
“You were,” Virgil whispered back, returning the hug. “In the end even Dad was better at it – all of us being there for each other, no matter what.”
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently
#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting#with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though#you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would#think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page#disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol#THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended#(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever#so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with#no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know#EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably#It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end#point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc#I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc#rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is#not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school#but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia#and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like#the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot#or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are#familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them#Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lust is in the Air



Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 6.4k
Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.
Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex
A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes
Read it on ao3
------
Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.
"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"
"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.
"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.
"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.
"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.
"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.
"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.
Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.
"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.
"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."
After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.
"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.
"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.
On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.
"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.
"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.
"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.
"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.
"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.
"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.
"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.
"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."
Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.
As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.
"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.
"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.
"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.
"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.
You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.
"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.
"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'
"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.
"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.
"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.
"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.
"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.
"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.
Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.
"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.
"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.
You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.
"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.
"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.
"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.
"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.
"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."
Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.
"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.
"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.
"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.
"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.
"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.
"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."
"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.
"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.
"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.
"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."
"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"
"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.
"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.
"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.
"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.
"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."
"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.
"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.
"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.
"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.
"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.
"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.
"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.
"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.
"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.
"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.
"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.
"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.
And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.
"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.
"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.
"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.
"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.
"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.
"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.
"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.
"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.
Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.
As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.
"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."
It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.
"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.
"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.
"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.
Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.
"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.
"You want to see me naked?" he teases.
"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.
"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.
"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.
And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.
"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.
"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"
Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.
"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.
"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.
"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.
Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'
Be back soon, you write back.
"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.
"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.
"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.
"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."
You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?
"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."
You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.
"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.
"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.
As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.
Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
[Arcane preference] reacting to a s/o falling asleep on their lap

The reason I have to post requests like this is because, for some reason, if I post them as Tumblr requests, I can’t find them again when I search for them. Making the masterlist was a real struggle. As usual, I’m using the headcanon to promote my longfic on Arcane, Everytime It Rains.
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |
Jayce:
It often happens when he spends the evening working instead of giving you attention.
You know he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, so you settle for climbing onto his lap, letting your limbs dangle, and resting your face against his chest.
He stays focused on studying the documents in front of him, but one hand holds your head steady to keep you from losing your balance.
He strokes your hair absentmindedly.
When he notices you’ve fallen asleep, he feels a warmth, a tender sort of affection. He doesn’t want to wake you but wishes he had something to drape over your shoulders.
After a while, it becomes his signal that he’s pushed himself too far with work.
That’s the moment when he lifts your face to kiss you before carrying you to bed.
Viktor:
The classic "working on the couch" position, where you first sit next to him to avoid disturbing him, then drape one leg over his lap, and eventually both. By the end of the evening, you’re fully curled up in his arms.
He holds your side, resting his cheek against your head while continuing to read his notes, basking in the warmth of that shared intimacy.
He asks you several times if you’re tired, and when you don’t respond, he smiles softly, realizing exhaustion has won you over.
He pulls the blanket up to cover you both, and even when you grumble in annoyance at his movements, he chuckles and just says, “Just a second”
He works for another couple of hours but never stops stroking your side or giving you small kisses on the forehead.
Ekko:
“Aw, someone’s sleepy here,” is the first thing he says when you take the overboard from his hands, and let yourself plop into his lap, already wrapped in a blanket like a cape.
He doesn’t even try to go back to what he was doing. Instead, he pulls you close, rubbing his face against yours, taking in your scent.
He loves it—maybe even more than cuddling lying down. He enjoys the weight, the shape of your body, and being able to cradle you.
Because of this, he doesn’t ask if you’d rather lie down; he stays put, ensuring your rest is protected.
It’s only when you’re fully asleep and start shifting to find a more comfortable position that he decides to carry you to bed, staying there with you afterward.
Vander:
I’ll be honest, would.
The underground city is freezing due to the lack of light that filters in, all the glass and steel radiating cold from the outside. That’s why there’s no place more comfortable than this man’s laps.
You usually do it when the bar is still closed, and only a few close friends are inside. When you know he isn’t on the defensive and you won’t slow him down.
He laughs, keeping one hand on your back to support you, and points out to anyone around him that it’s good for you to get a little rest.
If you stay asleep even after the bar opens, he’ll grab a chair and sit it beside him so he can take care of the larger tasks first and then return to you in his lap.
But if it’s the weekend, when things can easily heat up, he’ll delay opening just to get you to bed, give you a kiss, and apologize for leaving you alone.
Silco:
Can we normalize this man as a piece of furniture?
It’s not even about being tired or wanting attention, sometimes it’s just the comfort the situation itself provides.
The way the swivel chair rocks, the vinyl on the record player, the intense, greenish light pouring through the window, and enjoying his delicate fingers in your hair while the entire city stretches out beneath you.
He doesn’t ask why you do it, nor if you want to move. He assumes that if you wanted something different, you would simply ask, so he continues to give you those small attentions endlessly.
He keeps you on the side of his good eye, so he doesn’t have to turn his head to check on you, but can discreetly notice if your expression changes or if you fall asleep.
These are the moments when Sevika knows that no one is supposed to enter his office, so you can have a bit of peace.
Jinx:
She’s always busy, always active, always too loud. Sitting in her lap sometimes seems almost like a necessity to keep her still and focused on just one thing.
“Awwww, my little bug is sleepy?”
She hums while holding you in her arms, one hand still trying to get her projects done.
If too much time passes, she’ll bend her knees and push herself forward, making the swivel chair move in the direction she wants so she can stay occupied while talking to you about whatever crosses her mind.
If she feels your breathing change, that you’re falling asleep, she suddenly freezes, as if to let you rest.
She pulls you closer, caresses you, kisses your temples, and carries you to her little couch.
Vi:
If manhandling were a woman
When you sit on her lap, she treats you like you’re a cat: fine. It will end there.
Does she need to pee? No, she doesn’t anymore.
She can’t disturb you, or you might get up and leave.
But when it starts to become a constant, she’ll cover your back and simply hold you while she does what she needs to do.
If you complain, she’ll kiss you, apologizing and reassuring you that you’ll be back on the sofa soon, asking you to hang on.
She enjoys that closeness, your breath on her skin, the trust in that action.
The moment she sits back down or rests, she’ll shower you with cuddles, even if you’re asleep or pretending to be.
Caytlin:
She’s the one to ask if you want to sit in her lap, worried that she’s neglecting you.
She keeps you with her, even if you’re asleep, supporting you to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or lose your balance.
Her biggest fear is not being able to express how much she cares for you, how happy she is to have you there.
The quickest way she knows to do that is through physical contact—the reassuring, warm kind.
“How was your day?” she asks, giving you space to talk and feel seen. She doesn’t want the things she has to do to take away from you, from the two of you.
If she still feels like she’s ignoring you, she’ll ask you to sit on the couch with her to watch a movie, or maybe in bed, cuddled up, just being close.
Mel:
I recognize mommy issues when I see them, and so does she. You’ve been caught.
She welcomes you into her arms almost playfully, gently caressing your hands and arms, speaking softly with her head turned toward you.
She knows it’s the easiest way for you to ask for attention, and she simply accepts it, letting you rest either in her arms or with your head on her lap.
She talks to you about her day, her plans, her worries as if telling you a lullaby, letting you rest on her concerns, including you in her mind so that you don’t feel like a burden.
If you fall asleep, she rests her chin on your shoulder and closes her eyes as well, enjoying a few minutes of peace, trying to sync your breathing together.
Sevika:
You live on the lap of this woman.
When she adjusts her arm, when you eat something on the couch, even at the bar while she plays cards or drinks, you’re always there.
The safest place in the underground city is on the massive legs of a woman with a mechanical arm, and that’s a fact.
Her initial fear, especially in public, was that someone might associate you with her and harm you.
But over time, it’s almost become a flex -you, pretty thing, are hers,
Every now and then, she checks to see if you’re okay, if you want to go to bed, if you’re comfortable, and with her healthy hand, she caresses your cheek while doing so.
At home, she always makes sure to cover you, to keep you close.
She doesn’t even go to bed unless you ask, enjoying the feeling of your body against hers.
#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#vander x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#sevika x reader#mel x reader#jayce talis#viktor arcane#ekko arcane#silco arcane#arcane vander#jinx#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#mel medarda#sevika#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane 2#arcane writing#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn arcane#mel arcane#jinx arcane#arcane jinx#arcane silco
3K notes
·
View notes
Text

2 + 1 — gojo satoru

synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumi’s pov, not proofread eep
notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!

fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.
nobara clicks her tongue. “this is borderline creepy.” her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.
“there’s more too,” megumi’s voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.
it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom.
with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.
there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasn’t just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoru’s former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.
any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.
a true testament to gojo satoru’s pining and devotion to you.
“sensei, we can explain–” yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy.
unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcerer’s expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.
it seems like the heavens have answered megumi’s prayers because gojo satoru doesn’t seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.
“i can’t believe you guys found this old thing.” satoru dismisses his students’ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. “megumi, be grateful that i’m in a good mood today.” he doesn’t elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.
megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
“i never took you to be the pathetic type,” kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.
“you seriously never noticed?” megumi mutters under his breath.
gojo places a strong hand on megumi’s back, a languid smile on his face, “it was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.” he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.
“seriously?” itadori asks in disbelief.
“seriously.” gojo confirms wholeheartedly.
megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.

2009
“sorry i’m late!” gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesn’t bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.
“they’re in the kitchen,” he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.
“they?” gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.
“tsumiki and [name]?” the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.
at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap.
“[name]?! here? now?” gojo’s eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.
the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.
“oi brat, check my breath,” gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.
“—toru? what are you doing?” your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.
now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older male’s face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.
“don’t worry about it darling!” gojo slowly turns around to face you. “agh—?!”
megumi has to peek around satoru’s big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.
he’s met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.
“welcome home, satoru.” you give him your signature closed eye smile. “i mean, you probably don’t consider it your home but—“
you’re cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. he’s muttering something under his breath that you don’t hear.
to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."
unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.
a lost cause indeed.

2009
in that very year, megumi learns that gojo’s efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.
me
[name]
[nameeeee]
i’m dying.
and it’s your fault t^t
[name] ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
excuse me?
me
i’ll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight… only to find out from megumi that you’re on a date?!!?
i feel like my chest is caving in.
i’m going to throw up.
[name] ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
oh this is what you’re interrupting my date for?
me
i’m going to be sick.
please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?
megumi quickly looks away from gojo’s phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. he’s pretty sure half of them were death threats. honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?
“change of plans,” gojo claps his hands together. “movie night’s off.”
“what?” megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.
“our beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?” gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.
megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.
but he can’t let this unnamed suitor steal you away.
a wolfish grin makes its way to gojo’s mouth when he realizes that he’s won.
“what's the plan?”

2016
it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru.
on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the room’s significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.
throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.
“how’s that whore of yours, gojo?” a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room.
there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.
another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “she has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.”
megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.
he’s startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyes—a revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.
“i’d hold my tongue if i were you.” gojo satoru’s voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.
"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.
megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.
before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesn’t have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojo’s strong curse residue that suffocates the room.
“stand up megumi. we’re leaving.” his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.
on their way out of the compound, the two don’t utter a word at what had just transpired.
megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.
the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.
megumi supposes he doesn’t feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didn’t know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesn’t help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.
oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.
“i know what you’re going to say,” gojo hums happily. “gojo sensei, you’re so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~’” he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi.
the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.
gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.
“not that it matters.” megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. “i was always going to marry [name] and i’ll be damned to let anyone stop me.”

2018 – present day
after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.
you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence. his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.
“sato– what is going on?!”
“is it a crime to show my wife some love?” he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.
you don’t bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoru’s eyes on you.
“i was telling my first years about you today,” he says softly.
you smile, “is that so?”
he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.
“you’re so good to them,” you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, you’re extremely proud of how far he’s come.
“mhm,” satoru inhales. “i’d be good to our little ones too.” one of his hands sneak to your stomach.
you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.
satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.
from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their sensei’s cue to enter.
“do you think he’s forgotten about us?” yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.

extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)
#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojou x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
summary: dark!old man!logan would do anything for the sake of you going back into his arms.
cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. obsessive behavior. fem!reader. logan calls himself ‘old man’. pet names. unspecified age gap. unstable power dynamic. crying. soft dom!logan. sub!reader. not proofread.
You’re not sure if you can even call him your ‘ex.’
The both of you never had the ‘talk’, and never did have any middle ground stating what kind of relationship this is.
Logan’s way older than you - way more mature - “Need t’be fucked by a real man, ‘s that it, baby?” way more experienced.
No matter how heated the night before, Logan still turns everything cold with his aloofness - and you - you never feel brave enough to speak up against it.
With a heavy heart and numerous self-loathing sessions, you concluded that it was time to let him go - convincing yourself you deserve someone more. Someone you’d be comfortable with to ask for something more.
And you did, well, that’s what you tell yourself as you busied yourself with everything else. Withdrawing from him little by little, texting him things such as ‘Can’t meet you today, sorry’ or ‘Something else came up..’ to avoid ending up on his sheets.
Logan’s not stupid. He may be old, a fucking hundred years old something but he’s not dumb. He knows what you’re doing.
Reading the texts you sent him, he’d grumble curse words under his breaths before tugging off his glasses in a harsh movement.
He just didn’t think you’d last so long dodging him. Logan expected you to give up on the first day of the second week—he was wrong because it’s been a month, damnit.
Sometime during the unlabeled relationship that went on for almost a year already, you put Logan’s number on the list as your ‘alternative’ contact, making people ring his number when yours is not answering.
And Logan always answers your phone calls. He’d justify himself that it’s merely a habit that he’s still trying to break, but truthfully it’s to make sure you’re hanging out with the ‘right people.’
Logan fucking hates it when he’s hearing a guy’s voice on the other line—toughens himself to respond, lowering his voice and curting his answers. He’ll let them know you’re busy.
In the second month, you run back into Logan in desperation.
Your eyes are all puffy from crying because your last date was such a prick! He called you nasty-horrible-sickening names before erasing your number off his phone for no reason.
Logan opens his arms to welcome your hiccuping figure standing before him. Shushing you down and rubbing circles on your back - telling you to tell him who hurted you.
This dependency you hold on him makes his cock twitch. That he’s right: you still seek him out no matter how long it takes.
You don’t even notice how bad it gets—that’s the best thing. You never learn, huh?
That’s alright - because he’ll try for real this time. Groans out praises after praises to you, “What’s that, baby? Y’feel good?” Logan jeers overhead, holding himself over you with his hand gripping onto the headboard, “Too good?” He chuckles as his other hand thumbs on your puffy button.
His rough fingers pad up your clit, sending electricity throughout your body. Making you writhe underneath him and Logan scolds you in the softest way he can, “Stay still f’me, will ya?”
You can’t answer. You can’t even speak outside of high-pitched whines, a mess of your own saliva drips until it reaches your chin. Your whole body is finally sticky after it’s been cold for weeks. His fat cock driving onto his home over and over, better than anything you’ve ever felt before.
“Yeah, y’just need your old man, hm? No one else can t‘care of this pussy like I do, sweetheart.”
He maliciously slows down his movement to watch his length entering your wet folds, humming at the vulgar squelching sound, “Come take a look a’her, baby. She’s squeezing me in - misses me so much.”
The sight of him is trouble, messy greying hair and beard; chest full of scars. Everything you should’ve stayed away from.
”Yeayeahyea- Missed you so m-much. Ah-”
But you cannot think when he’s holding you like this - when he angles himself so his tip is continuously hitting against that spongy spot inside you that makes your body weak.
A string of ah ah ahs are leaving your mouth as he growls next to your face. “‘M cumming —”
His head falls back as he feels how your dripping pussy milks him dry, instantly following after as he buries himself deeper to make sure none of his cum drips out, “F-fuck. Good fuckin’ girl.”
When he’s finished, Logan falls atop you in tiredness before rolling himself slightly to the side so he doesn’t suffocate you with his weight. Pampering your tear-flushed cheeks with slow kisses - the feel of his beard burning onto your skin like a streak of fire.
“C’meback, sweet girl.” He whispers in a quiet voice, hoping you’d give in completely.
And you do - you always do.
Moments later, he’d have you resting on his chest, fingers combing through your hair to calm you down from the noises inside your head.
You don’t have to know that he was the one who drove your date away.
It’s a mistake that the boy called Logan’s number because he was so impatient to hear back from you. A goddamn mistake.
Because of that, Logan became aware of his existence and tracks him down. Threatens the other guy to stay the fuck away from you.
Poor guy almost pissed his pants in fright. Running away scared shitless after Logan let go of his collar.
Logan doesn’t know when exactly he turned into this wild animal. A sick old fuck who’d do anything to keep you in his embrace.
Why does it matter? Everything is in its right place now. He’ll make sure you’d never have to know about the things he’d do for you.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#old man logan#old man!logan#old man logan x reader#old man logan smut#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine#logan by nina <3
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The One Where Bakugo is Different With You (and your friends kinda called it but are too dumb to fully connect the dots) katsuki x fem!reader
No one understands what it is you did to make him like you. You insist that you didn't do anything. They don't believe you.
Bakugo isn't nice to anyone. He tolerates people. Sometimes. In fact, it's not like he's even nice to you. But he is different. And everyone has noticed.
"That's her seat, get up." He snaps at Mineta as the boy sits down next to him.
"What, she has to sit next to you?"
"Get. Up."
Mineta doesn't hesitate.
You've known him as long as the rest of them, but for some reason he seems softer toward you. Kirishima is the first to bring it up to him.
"Do you like her or something?"
"She's my friend, of course I like her."
"Denki is your friend, you don't like him."
"Hey!" Denki yells from the other side of the couch.
Bakugo just grits his teeth and doesn't respond.
Even when riffing with him, he takes what you say differently than he does with everyone else.
"What if I just cracked this egg over your head?"
He looks down at you. "I'd be impressed that you could reach."
"That hot head would probably fry it." Sero laughs at his own joke.
Sparks began to form from the explosion hero's good hand. "I will blast you out of this building!"
And forget about anyone else asking him for anything. He doesn't really do favors, not unless he's hounded to do them. But for you?
"I'm hungry."
Bakugo stands from the couch and holds out his hand to pull you up with him. "Let's go try the new sushi place down the block."
Or
"I have an interview with the talkshow next week but they want me there at like six in the morning."
He doesn't even look up from his phone, where he's opening his calendar to schedule himself off of work that day. "I'll stay by your place and drive you in the morning."
OR
A bag falls into your lap and the blonde plops down next to you. "They were on sale."
You open the bag to find your favorite candies, letting out an excited squeal. "They've been out the last two weeks."
"I told the guy to call me when he got a box in."
Denki tries to reach his hand out for a box but it's slapped away by the larger blonde. "Touch it or her and I will personally cut off that hand."
And then there's Kirishima's personal favorite interactions to watch. Something Bakugo has done since living in the dorms at UA, through your roommate years where all of you split an apartment to save up money.
Bakugo would get up to leave the room and stop in the doorway, staring directly at you. "Are you coming?"
"Where are we going?"
"Check your phone."
You would look down at your phone and laugh every time. "Are you embarrassed to say it in front of everyone?"
"Shut the fuck up and get over here!"
Everyone could read between the lines, and his blush on his cheeks.
But you'd never officially dated. Anytime any of the friend group would ask about it, you'd both deny it and change the subject. Kirishima and Mina would narrow their eyes in suspicion at you and one another.
"You just treat her different than everyone else." Kiri would point out.
"Friends don't look at each other the way you two do, especially not Bakugo." Mina would accuse.
The answers were always the same.
"Mind your own shitty business." Bakugo would snap.
"You all just look too much into things. He can be nice at times." You would always insist.
It would take all the way up until a random work party Bakugo's agency was holding for the truth to come out. For Denki to walk in on the two of you in the bathroom-
"Practically devouring each other! It was disgusting!"
Bakugo rolled his eyes. His arms rested around the back of the couch with you tucked close into his side. "See this is why we kept it a secret for so many years, you're all being so dramatic about it."
"Years?!" Mina screamed. "How many years has this been a thing?"
You tried to avoid all eye contact with her.
"Since high school." Bakugo replied with ease.
"Since high school?!" Your friends gaped.
"When we were all living in the dorms?" Denki asked.
"Used to meet up on the old training grounds to make out."
"The apartment we all shared?" Kirishima narrowed his eyes.
"Snuck into each other's rooms like every single night, can't believe you guys never caught us then."
"When we all were interning at the same agencies?" Sero threw out there.
"Bribed the scheduling team to put the two of us on the same routes."
"Ok wait, but you guys told us you weren't and you used to talk about the different people you would go on dates with right in front of each other- oh my fucking god." Mina facepalmed.
Bakugo laughed maniacally as you tried to hold yours in.
"So you were talking about each other? Every single time?"
"Every. Single. Time."
Mina sighed. "This is actually insane, I can't believe you never said anything."
"I mean it's not like we should be that surprised, besides," Kirishima chimed in, "it's not like they're secretly engaged to be married or anything, right?"
Silence.
"Right?" Kirishima's smile falters a bit. "Please tell me you two aren't engaged."
Bakugo blinks a few times before responding. "Ok, we're not engaged."
"Bakugo!"
"Did you think I was just really nice to her all the time for no reason?"
#bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x you#mha x reader#bakugo x reader#mha drabbles#bakugou x y/n#mha x you#mha x y/n
995 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || You Were Clingy And Suddenly You Aren't
PAIRING: Skz x GN!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
CHAN:
You hadn’t even meant to overhear the conversation the boys were having but you had and ever since you’d distanced yourself from Chan, giving him space, major space even. You'd stopped showing up at the dorms after work and you stopped going to spend time with Chan at the studios on your days off. You didn't want to be around him if you were too clingy, or overbearing to him and you panicked.
"You're ignoring me and I hate it," Chan said bluntly as he sat across from you at the cafe you would frequent. You forced yourself to look up from the book you'd been trying to read and frowned seeing him standing there.
"What?" You were sure he was supposed to be in practice right now and yet here he was panting and staring at you.
"You're ignoring me, did I do something wrong?" His voice broke as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from you,
"What? No...N-No, I'm just giving you space." You smiled weakly, shutting your book and looking up at him. You didn't want to get into this in the middle of a cafe but you also didn't want to go back to the dorms with him and risk another comment from Seungmin.
"When have I ever said I needed space?" He chuckled at you but you didn't find any of this funny, you were a little stressed that he didn't see you the same way you saw yourself right now.
"You haven't but I realise how overbearing I am right now-"
"What are you talking about?" His hand clasped yours in his grip and he ran his thumb over your skin, your heart picking up as you let out a small whimper.
"Seungmin said he never sees us apart and I realised how tiring that must be for you." You shrugged, trying to take your hand back but Chan gripped you a little tighter,
"Yn." He whispered, his voice laced with sympathy,
"I'm sorry if I'm too much sometimes, I just...I like spending time with you." Tears were beginning to roll down your cheeks even though you hadn't meant to cry, everything you'd been bottling up finally overflowing,
"And I love spending time with you, it doesn't matter what Seungmin said." He mumbled, moving to the spot right next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder.
"Let's go home, okay? I missed you and I have some cuddling with you to catch up on." He smirked a little making your whole body heat as you nodded at him, quickly kissing his cheek.
MINHO:
After you'd heard Chan say to Minho that you were "Around each other all the time." you'd stopped going around as much. It wasn't anything personal but you didn't want to be too much for Minho, or the others. You worried they'd find you annoying if you were too clingy with your boyfriend and so you took some steps back.
"Yn? I know you can hear me...Just talk to me, did I do something wrong?" Minho pleaded through the door of your apartment. You hadn't responded to him all day and he was beginning to worry you were in a fight without him realising you were in a fight.
"I'm going to use the emergency key if you don't answer." He warned before you sighed, unlocking the door and stepping to the side to let him in.
"Are you sick? Did we have a fight and I didn't notice?" He laughed weakly as he made his way to your sofa and sat down, a clear sign that he wasn't going to go anywhere any time soon so you shut the door and sat across from him.
"No."
"So then what's going on?" He hated overthinking and that was all he'd managed to do ever since you'd disappeared on him and gone quiet.
"I'm giving you some space." You offered as if he'd asked for it but he frowned, shaking his head,
"Space? Why?"
"I feel like I'm overbearing sometimes and I worry I'm around you too much." You'd been overthinking it ever since you'd heard Chan and now you worried if you came on too strong with Minho he'd leave.
"Baby, I enjoy spending time with you." He reached out to touch you but you shifted away from him.
"I know you say that but I feel like I'm too clingy and I should just give you some space."
"But I don't need that, I need my beautiful and amazing partner by my side, always." He whispered as you sniffled a little, tears running down your cheeks as you stared back at him,
"I just don't want you to think I'm smothering you." As soon as he heard you say that he dragged you onto the sofa beside him,
"You could never smother me, if there was ever an issue we would talk about it, don't pull away from me." He begged, his hand running over your cheek as he rid your face of the tears,
"Okay..."
"Trust me, baby, we're good." He tells you as he wraps you in the tightest hug he could manage, your body relaxing a little as you finally felt close to him again.
CHANGBIN:
"I never see you two without each other." The words had seemed so casual coming from Minho's lips and yet you suddenly felt as though your whole world was coming apart around you.
"Yn? You going home?" Changbin frowned as he walked into his bedroom to find you packing up your things. After you'd heard Minho you knew it was time to give Changbin some space.
"I thought you were staying here tonight."
"Yeah, I just, I thought I should give you some space." You shrugged it off, doing your best to stay as calm and rational as possible but your mind kept going back to your past relationships. Whenever you got too clingy things would go sideways and they'd split with you and you didn't want that with Changbin.
"Space?" He frowned and stood beside you,
"I've been clingy lately and I don't want to smother you, so I'm going to head home." You folded up your last bit of clothing but Changbin was just as confused as he was when he started this conversation
"Smother me? Yn, you could never smother me...Where is this coming from?" He put his hand on your shoulder trying to make you look at him but you didn't, you knew if you did you'd give up and stay all night.
"I just worry that I'm always around and it's probably too much for you. I don't want to be that kind of a partner to you."
"Yn." He stilled your hands on your bag,
"I love having you around, you make everything better and you're not too much." He hated that you could ever think such a thing when he thought the entire world of you,
"But in my last relationships, things were too much and I don't want to end up pushing you away." You whispered, your voice cracking a little as Changbin held your face in his hands.
"I get that, but we're different. Okay? I don't want you to distance yourself from me because of some bonehead in the past." You stare at him a little unsure of what to do.
"We can spend the night here and then you'll see how much I need you around." He whispered as you nodded a little, your cheeks heating as he kissed you softly.
HYUNJIN:
Hyunjin knew that there was something wrong the moment you'd stopped replying to him over text and then when you cancelled most of your plans he knew he had to do something to make you feel better.
"What...What are you doing here?" You questioned your boyfriend as you walked into your apartment to see him cooking for you.
"You're home early, damn, this was supposed to be done for when you came in." He brushed his hands down his apron and hugged you tightly, you hugged him back but frowned at him.
"What was?"
"Dinner." He gestured to the oven behind him which was filled with food.
"I noticed you were being distant and I wanted to come over and do something nice for you." He smiled warmly but you just felt guilty that he'd come all the way out here to do this for you.
"Is everything okay?" He asked as he went back to stirring whatever it was on the hob but you looked down at the floor. Everything was fine until Changbin mentioned that he never saw you apart from one another and you realised you needed to give Hyunjin space.
"I'm just worried I might be too clingy...or overbearing," You shrugged, scratching the back of your neck as Hyunjin froze.
"Clingy and overbearing? What would give you that thought?" He stopped what he was doing, moving the food off the heat.
"I love our time together," He added, worry started to seep into him as he thought about it.
"I know you say that now but I don't want you to feel suffocated or that I'm always around." Within seconds Hyunjin was in front of you and frowning,
"Yn, being with you is the best part of my day, you're never suffocating to me." He smiled a little.
"But we're never apart and I don't want you to get sick of me." You sniffled a little but Hyunjin kissed you softly, wrapping his arms around you.
"If there is one thing in this world I can promise you, it's that I would neve ever get sick of you." He explained, you hesitated for a second a little unsure of what to do but you smiled weakly.
"You're sure?" You quizzed before he nodded, kissing your cheek.
"We can talk more over dinner, but I promise you I don't want or need you to put space between us," He told you, kissing the top of your head and going back to cooking.
JISUNG:
Ever since last week, Jisung had noticed something changing with you and he was beginning to worry he'd done something that might have upset you. Even now as you walked together on the beach he could sense something was wrong. You weren't holding his hand or onto his arm like you usually would and you weren't asking him to go on rides with you or to play some fair games when you would pass by them.
"Is everything okay? With us...I mean." He usually wasn't upfront with his feelings but ever since the two of you had started seeing one another he'd been getting better at it,
"Yeah." It was obviously a lie and Jisung frowned at you, stopping still and making you look at him.
"What's going on?" He stared at you and you knew he wasn't going to stop asking unless you told him the truth which worried you more than you cared to admit.
"Do you think we're around each other too much?" You finally asked making Jisung's eyebrows knit together in a frown.
"No? Why?" He shook his head at you but you looked away from him,
"It was something Felix mentioned...T-That we're never apart and I worry that-"
"You're clingy?" He finished for you and you nodded a little before he sighed and kissed your cheek.
"You're not clingy at all, you know I love having you around right?" He stares at you and smiles a little.
"You make me feel less anxious, you make me feel like a whole other person when I'm with you and I never want space." He told you simply, bringing you into his arms and smiling as you cuddled into him.
"You promise you'll come to me in the future if you start to worry again?" He quizzed and you nodded your head, kissing him quickly as you continued your walk on the beach front.
FELIX:
As you rounded the corner of your apartment building you frowned finding Felix standing there knocking on your door.
"Felix? I thought we cancelled tonight." You said as you walked closer to him but something was off, you could see he'd been crying and it instantly made you worry.
"Are we okay? Are you breaking up with me?" He sniffled, you quickly ushered him into your apartment not wanting to get any unwanted attention from your neighbours and you shut the door.
"Breaking up? What? No." You mumbled shaking your head at him.
"You've been so distant and then J-Jisung said it meant you were going to break things off with me."
"Jisung is wrong." You grumbled, you and Jisung weren't exactly seeing eye to eye after you'd heard him mention to Felix how clingy you were.
"So then what's going on? Did I do something to upset you?"
"No, Lix." You sighed sitting next to him on the sofa.
"I overheard Jisung talk about me and he mentioned how we're never apart and I just...I thought I was giving you space." You shrugged it off and Felix sighed, clearly frustrated.
"I'm sorry you heard him say that but....for the record, I assure you that I don't find you clingy...I love you so much," He smiled warmly at you but you looked down at the floor.
"I don't want to be a burden," Your head was slowly tilted up to look at Felix and you smiled weakly.
"You're not a burden, Yn. I'll talk to Jisung and clear this up but don't let his dumb words affect us," He told you sternly before kissing you softly and standing up.
"Where are you going?" You frowned as he stretched a little,
"To talk to Jisung."
"No. Stay and cuddle I missed you," You laughed, dragging him back to you, he could talk to Jisung another time, right now it was just you and him.
SEUNGMIN:
Seungmin hadn't always been the best at expressing himself when it came to your relationship but he always felt as though he'd done a pretty good job up until now. Now he had no idea what was wrong and if he'd done something to upset you since you'd just distanced yourself from him.
"Seungmin? What are you doing here?" You whispered as you turned around to find your boyfriend in your office, somewhere he shouldn't have been if he didn't want to get noticed. You quickly shut and locked your door, pulling the blinds down.
"I had to see you, we've barely spent any time together."
"I've been busy." You lied looking down at the floor but Seungmin wasn't going to take some bullshit for an excuse he needed to know what was going on.
"You've been acting distant for weeks, what's going on?"
"I just figured you needed some space." Seungmin waited for you to say something else but when you didn't he frowned even more at you.
"Why would I need space?" He stared down at you as you sat at your desk,
"I've been a little annoying and clingy lately and I didn't want to keep bothering you."
"When have you ever bothered me? Where would you even get such an idea?" He sat across from you and narrowed his eyes a little, he was like a human lie detector and you knew you wouldn't be able to hide anything from him.
"Jeongin mentioned how we're never apart and I just- I thought you might get annoyed with me." You explained before Seungmin stared at you as though you had a second head.
"Baby, you're not annoying, you never could be...ever, I don't ever want you to feel like that." He moved quickly to kneel by your side and he took your hands in his, kissing them softly.
"I love you...Okay? You're important to me and I want us to be able to talk if things ever bother us," He offered and you nodded, quickly kissing him and smiling to yourself.
"I promise to come to you in the future," He nodded and kisses you again, deeper this time,
JEONGIN:
It was a quiet night in until Jeongin showed up at your door, usually Friday nights were reserved for the two of you to spend time together but you'd been acting differently lately and it was starting to worry him. Especially tonight when you cancelled on him seemingly to do nothing at home.
"You're acting weird and I'm worried," Jeongin explained as he stood in your apartment, you refused to look at him instead choosing to stare at the TV with a drama playing on it.
"Yn, talk to me." He begged as he sat across from you on the coffee table. Sighin you looked at him, you hesitated in telling him everything but you knew he'd never leave if you didn't spill your guts to him.
"I'm sorry if I've been distant...I just-" You sighed, you didn't even know where to start with any of this.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. I just want to understand what's going on. Is something or someone bothering you?" He stared at you with concern written all over his face and you sighed,.
"Lately I've just been feeling like maybe I'm too clingy and then I heard Minho mention that we're never apart and it just...it drove home what I was already feeling," You mumbled, playing with the sleeves of your shirt as jeongin stared at you.
"Clingy? You're not clingy at all, nowhere near." He mumbled, quickly moving to sit beside you.
"I don't know, I heard what Minho said and then at work, I heard people talking about their relationships and I just...I thought I was being a burden." Jeongin reached out and took your hands in his.
"You're not and never will be a burden to me, Yn. I love you and want you in my life."
"I don't want to ever smoother you or make you feel trapped with me." You added and he smiled at you,.
"Okay, but communication is key. Shutting me out and putting space between us won't let us fix what's going on. We need to talk it through together." He squeezed your hands a little and you nodded, you knew he was right deep down and you kissed him softly.
"I promise to talk if anything bothers me again," You whispered before the two of you cuddled together on the sofa for a while.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @parkjennykim
#skz#skz x reader#skz reaction#skz reactions#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids reaction#stray kids reactions#bang chan x reader#minho x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#jeongin#yang jeongin#kim seungmin#seungmin#lee felix#felix#jisung#han jisung#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#seo changbin#changbin#lee know#lee minho
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
"I Want Your Dad, Too!"
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend's Dad : Day 1



feat. Harwin Strong, Jacaerys Velaryon ᯓ★ You have a problem with your boyfriend's performance in the bedroom. Luckily, his dad is here to teach him a couple of tricks to keep you satisfied!
warnings! : NSFW 18+, modern au, consensual cuckolding, himbo-coded Jace, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, squirting, creampie
ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3
You had a problem. A huge problem.
Well, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t really that big of a problem, but to you, with oh-so-few cares in the world, it was.
Your boyfriend was really bad at fucking.
Like. Really bad.
It was pissing you off. You love Jace, but that man was never going to make you cum.
You had decided that today was the day that you were going to sit down and talk about it with him. You weren’t that shallow that you would break up with him over his lack of skills in the bedroom, but you really couldn’t handle shitty two minute sex for the rest of your life.
You take a deep breath before knocking on his front door.
When the door opens, it’s not Jace who greets you, but his dad.
Harwin Strong stands tall before you in all his glory. The first time you met his dad was only a few weeks after you and Jace started dating, and he was eager to introduce you to his parents. One look at Harwin and you knew instantly why you swooned over Jace the second you met him. Not only was he incredibly handsome, but he was kind, too. From the glimpses of how he was with Jace’s mom Rhaenyra, back when they were together, you could tell that he was a great husband, too.
You would be lying if you didn’t sometimes fantasize it was him fucking you when Jace couldn’t coax an orgasm out of you. There was no doubt that Harwin knew how to make a woman fall apart in pleasure.
“H-hi, Mr. Strong,” you greet him, the embarrassment from your thoughts much more prominent than you wanted to come across. “Is Jace here?”
“Told you to just call me Harwin, love,” his deep voice croons out, a sparkle in his eye and a smile adorning his features. “He’s up in his room, told me you would be coming.”
The way he looks so intently at you causes your cheeks to heat up involuntarily. It’s as if he sees right through you, like he knows exactly the reason why you’re here right now.
“Don’t have too much fun,” he winks at you and pats your shoulder gently as you pass by him up to the familiar path to Jace’s room.
You fan at your cheeks, hoping that Harwin didn’t notice the way heat rose to them, and that Jace won’t notice now as you knock on his door.
It flings open as you’re still knocking, causing you to jump back, startled.
“Babe! Sorry! Thanks for stopping by, I actually had something kinda important to talk to you about.”
“So did I. Do you mind if I go first?” You plop yourself down onto his bed, making yourself comfortable for what you anticipate to be an uncomfortable conversation.
Jace smiles, taking a seat beside you. “’Course not. What did you need?”
You take a deep breath. This was it. You hoped that Jace was receptive to what you were about to tell him. He was always so sweet, not like other guys who got bruised egos and blamed it on women when they couldn’t keep their dicks hard for more than a minute. You didn’t know what you were going to do if Jace didn’t handle it well.
“It’s about, um, our sex life. I didn’t want to bring it up right away because I wasn’t sure if you were just nervous or something, but—” you huff, “—well, I guess to be frank, you’re not really good. Like, you haven’t even made me cum once.”
A blush runs across Jace’s face, and he looks down as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I-I kinda figured that’s what you wanted to talk about. I also noticed it. It’s why I had my dad answer the door. I asked him if he could help us out. Well, I guess, more like help me out so I can be better. For you.”
You blink.
He blinks.
“O-oh!” You respond. This was quite an unexpected development. “Well, um, what did he say?” You tried not to sound too eager at the proposition.
“I mean, he was like, if you were cool with it, then he was fine with helping. Said something about how I was practically a failure of a boyfriend if I didn’t make you cum every time.” He looks down, avoiding your stare.
“Oh, hon, don’t say that.” You take his cheek in your palm, stroking it with your thumb. “You’re a great boyfriend! You just, well, can use some help in the bedroom.”
He lets out a sigh, and you continue. “This is why honest communication is important, right? I told you my feelings, you told me yours, and no one’s angry! Look at us, we’re doing really well at this couple stuff!”
Jace looks back up at you and smiles. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So what do you think? Of my dad, ah, demonstrating.”
Your legs practically quiver at the thought of getting fucked by your boyfriend’s dad—in front of him, no less. Jace was practically his dad’s clone. It would be like getting probably fucked by a much more matured and sexually attuned version of your boyfriend.
You gulp, ignoring the wetness between your thighs from your fantasies. “Y-yeah, I think that would really…help our relationship, right?”
He nods, and a silence passes between you two before Jace stands. “Let me go get—”
“No need.”
You both turn to voice to see Harwin standing, arms crossed and leaning in the doorway. “Glad you agreed, love,” Harwin says as he enters the room, closing the door behind him. “Jace has a lot to learn if he wants to keep you around.”
Harwin’s confidence has your pussy clenching in anticipation, and you can feel yourself getting wet just by the way you can imagine how good he’ll be making you feel.
“Have a seat, Jace. I’m going to show you how a man pleasures a woman.”
Jace gulps and nods, his cheeks dusting with a light red color as he takes a seat in his desk chair to let his father share the bed with you.
Harwin’s weight on the bed causes it to dip, and your body instinctively leans into his warmth as he wraps his arms around you.
“First thing you need to do,” Harwin starts, turning himself and you to face Jace, “is foreplay.” His hand drops beneath your skirt, his fingers grazing at your cloth covered pussy. You gasp at the sudden contact, your body arching itself into Harwin’s large chest. “Have you done that before?” Harwin asks, directing his question at Jace.
“I mean, I’ve touched her a little bit—”
“A little bit isn’t gonna cut it.”
Harwin lifts your skirt up so that Jace can see underneath it. Your boyfriend’s eyes widen at the sight of your pussy, practically dripping as Harwin strokes it with his thick fingers.
“See how wet she is?” Jace nods, his face turning even redder than before. Even through the haze of your pleasure, you can see the tent visible in his pants. “Have you ever seen her get that wet before?”
“No,” Jace murmurs, embarrassment evident across his features.
Harwin sighs. “You see, son, women are real delicate.” His fingers pet across your pussy, your arousal drenching your panties. “You need to take your time with them, get them all nice and ready for your cock.” His fingers start to tease at your entrance, your hips bucking up to meet them.
“It may feel good for you,” he continues, “but it won’t feel good for them ’till you can hear them loud and clear down there.” Harwin sticks two fingers inside of you. Your head falls back as you moan, your pussy squelching as Harwin moves his fingers in and out of you. Your wetness coating the entirety of his digits.
He pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the emptiness inside of you.
“Look at that, boy.” Jace leans in real close, eyes unblinking as he observes your arousal across his father’s fingers. “That’s how you know they’re ready.”
“Got it,” Jace nods. You can see him subtly adjusting himself in his seat, no doubt from his cock straining in his pants.
“Y-you can touch yourself if you want to, Jace,” you murmur and his eyes widen, surprised by how you noticed how much he was fighting the urge not to. “If I’m going to be feeling good, I want you to feel good, too.”
Jace’s hand lowers into his pants as Harwin lays you onto your boyfriend’s bed, flat on your back. “Now you’re ready to start fucking her.”
Harwin lowers his pants and underwear in one fell swoop, his hard cock releasing from its confines. As you glance up at his member, you gulp. Harwin is big. You don’t know how the hell that thing is going to fit inside of you.
“Need to lube yourself up before you do so. Her wetness can usually help.” Harwin scoops two fingers inside of you, and you clamp your hands across your mouth to stop yourself from your moan as he does so. You can hear him fist his cock, lathering it up with your wetness before he aligns it with your entrance.
You aren’t even sure if Jace is still watching as Harwin enters you, the heat of the stretch causing you to squeeze your eyes shut tight as his bulbous tip fills you up.
“It’s important to go nice and slowly at first. Get her used to the sensation before you start thrusting like a maniac.”
Harwin slowly, tortuously, inches his way inside of you, up until the base is flush against your entrance.
You finally open your eyes as Harwin fills you up entirely, looking down at the connection. You practically cum from the sight in front of you, the bulge of his cock protruding slightly from the plush of your stomach.
“Once she’s used to your size, you can finally do this.” Harwin pulls his cock out of you before slamming his entire length back in. You let out a noise between a scream and a moan as your back arches and your toes curl, your legs wrapping around Harwin as he begins to thrust in and out of you at a steady but fast pace.
“Oh, fuck,” you can hear Jace mutter from next to you.
As he fucks into you, Harwin moves a hand up to your clit. “You can’t just use your cock,” he explains to Jace. “You need to touch her clit.” As he begins to circle your clit, you moan at the sensation, eyes closing again as you relish in the pleasure.
Jace doesn’t verbally respond, and you can just picture him nodding along with what his dad says.
“This part is extra sensitive. You get this right, you’re guaranteed to make her cum.” Harwin is relentless in his strokes, his thick cock thrusting in and out of you as he fingers your clit simultaneously. The pleasure you’re feeling is something you could’ve only ever dreamed of before, having never even gotten remotely close to an orgasm with Jace or any of your previous boyfriends and flings.
“Fuck,” you hear Harwin mutter under his breath. His body leans down on top of you as his thrusts before even stronger. “This pussy’s so tight, keeps sucking me back in.”
It’s the first time since he stuck his cock into you that Harwin was actually talking to you and not to Jace, the deep gravel of his voice close to your ear causing you to shudder.
“Needed a real man to fuck you, is that right?” His voice is low enough that you’re sure Jace can’t hear it. Besides, you’re sure that he’s too preoccupied with stroking his own cock to listen, anyways.
Bleary eyed, you slowly turn your head towards the side where Jace sits. Just as you predicted, Jace’s hand is fisting his cock at a rapid pace. His head is thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing as moans leave his lips. You feel heat rising to your cheeks seeing your boyfriend get off from you, until a hand squeezes your cheeks and forces your head forward, where you find yourself staring into Harwin’s eyes.
“He’s not fucking you right now,” he grunts. “Eyes on me, love.”
As he continues to thrust, Harwin places his body entirely on top of yours. Your legs push back, practically falling behind your ears. The loud pap, pap, pap of his skin making contact with yours is one of the loudest sounds in the room, only second to the squelching of your wet pussy as Harwin’s cock enters and leaves you.
Your senses are practically overloaded now, your nails digging into Harwin’s back as his cock fills you up so nicely. He still thumbs at your clit, the pleasure rising until an unfamiliar sensation develops inside of you.
“W-wait!” You cry out to him, “—f-feels weird!”
Harwin grunts, not stopping from his rhythmic thrusts. “You’re about to cum. Don’t worry, go ’head and cum on my cock.”
“No!” You shake your head. “It’s different!” You don’t have any more time to protest as liquid gushes out of you and a scream leaves your lips as you squirt, all across Harwin’s cock and his torso.
“First time squirting and it’s all over your boyfriend’s dad's cock. Dirty girl,” he croons, but you’re barely aware of your surroundings after your orgasm hits you so suddenly.
Your whole body shakes as the clear liquid gushes all around you. Your back arches as far as you think it can go, and Harwin’s hands on your waist are the only things keeping you from collapsing into the mattress. The man fucks into you as you lay limp in his grasp.
His thrusts begin to lose their rhythm as he grunts, and then you feel his cock pulse inside of you. A rush of warm liquid fills you up, an unexpected heat within your system. You groan at the sensation, his cock still hitting parts inside of you that were sensitive after your orgasm.
Once Harwin’s cum spills all inside of you, he slowly pulls out, your pussy clenching around air as the white cum dribbles outside of you, moving down your legs and onto the bed.
“How’s that for a lesson?”
Your head spins to the side as your eyes widen, having forgotten about Jace in the moment of your orgasm. Your boyfriend looks as much of a mess as you do. His curls stick to sweaty forehead, his face red and panting heavily. You can see his cum that spurted onto stomach, and his cock slowly softening after his release.
“R-really good. Informative. Yeah,” he answers breathlessly, chest heaving.
“Glad to hear it.” Harwin rubs your backside, sitting up on the bed. “We’re not done just yet, though. Still need to teach you about aftercare.”
#harwin strong x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#kinktober#kinktober 2024#harwin strong smut#jacaerys velaryon smut#hotd x reader#hotd smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them
aespa Karina x m!reader
10k words
---
Read on AO3
Masterlist

"What time is it?" Karina asks as she stumbles into the kitchen, a half awaken mess, dark locks all disheveled in a white top and tight shorts. "Jesus, my fucking head..."
"Nearly one."
"Shit," Karina hisses. "I had a test in the morning, didn't you hear my alarm go off?"
"You think I can hear anything over you snoring?" you ask, glancing up with a playful smile as Karina sits opposite you at the kitchen table, resting her face in her palms. "You barely made it inside before I had to lug your body onto the couch.”
"Hey, I don't snore," Karina scoffs, giving you a dirty look with bleary eyes as she runs fingers through her messy hair in a feeble attempt to look presentable.
"Oh, of course you don't. Which is why I could hear you all the way upstairs. Pretty sure the entire neighborhood could."
"Shut it," she snaps back with as much bite as she can muster, though can't keep that grimace on her features for long before a tired grin escapes. "The last thing I remember is Yizhuo holding my hair up while I—well, you don't need to know the rest."
“Sounds like you had a fun night.”
"Fantastic," Karina responds with all the sarcasm she can manage. Her gaze immediately turns towards the coffee maker—the only thing that matters during this hellish hungover state.
“Coffee should still be warm,” you say, not missing a beat. “But take this first, it'll help."
Karina eyes the two painkillers in your hand with a grateful look as she scoots forward and reaches to accept a glass of water, tossing her head back a bit before chugging it all a single gulp.
"You're a lifesaver. I'm so embarrassing, you shouldn't have to keep taking care of me. Thank you," she says with a quick smile, gently placing the empty glass down, then heading straight for the coffeepot.
"Don't worry about it. It's what I'm here for."
"You should have been there last night then, maybe could have kept me in check. I'll never drink that much ever again."
Karina cradles a freshly poured mug of hot coffee as she makes her way back to the table, taking a seat ever so carefully, trying not to fall over in the process. She rubs her temple in gentle circles, feeling like absolute hell as she tests the coffee with a sip of uncertainty.
"You've said that the last couple times," you tease, leaning back in your chair as you focus back on your laptop screen and the paper that you’ve been working on all day. "You know that's not really my thing. As much as I enjoy watching other people make an idiot out of themselves."
"At least I could have had someone to talk to. The only person I knew was Yizhuo, and she was so busy making out with anyone with a pulse that I didn't say more than three words to her."
"Yizhuo?" you ask.
"You've met her, haven't you? She's one of my best friends."
"Don't think I have."
"Right, well—she'll sleep with anyone that so much looks at her," Karina chuckles as she savors the delicious warmth of coffee down her throat. She takes another careful sip and her eyes close, wondering if the throbbing in her head will ever subside.
"She's learned from the best, I suppose."
"Hey!" she says, faux offense laced in her tone, placing down her mug. "Don't compare me to that slut. I've got standards at least."
"Really?"
“I'll have you know, I don't sleep with everyone,” Karina huffs, turning her face away to sip at her coffee some more, but you can't resist the urge to tease her even further in her current state. "Just a few lucky guys. Sometimes two at once. Or three. But nothing crazy, I'm not a slut."
"Wouldn't dare even think of using that word on you, Rina."
"See, not like Yizhuo at all, not desperate and willing to suck and ride anything in sight. Besides, it's been like over a month since I've last gotten laid,” she says, out of nowhere. You let out a dry laugh, unable to believe your ears. It's strange, seeing Karina's pale skin so flustered, because clearly even she can’t buy that.
“I’m serious!”
"The walls say otherwise, you know. You're a terrible liar, Rina." From first hand experience, you know how thin these walls are—being able to overhear her muffled cries of ecstasy, every vulgar utterance from Karina's room, each time she sneaks home a stranger who has the absolute honor of getting to pound her senselessly.
"W-what, I'm not!" Karina blurts out, face getting even redder, so frazzled with that thought. "That—you were probably just hearing all that porn you keep on your laptop. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about the weird, kinky shit you’re into.”
Pausing for a moment, she gives an impish grin, so pleased with herself for trying to turn things around. You could call her bluff, but even better, you’ll come up with one of your own, something equally preposterous and absurd.
"Me? I don't even watch porn," you say somehow with a straight face, and it's such a ridiculous statement you can hardly finish getting the words out. Karina puts her mug down and brings her arms over her chest, letting out a small sigh before glaring across the table.
"Is that so? Now who's the terrible liar?"
"Believe what you want. This laptop is for school work only. Nothing else."
"Didn't realize I was living with such a prude," Karina says, as a teasing grin slides along her features. "All those times I've brought home a guy to fuck my brains out—I guess I've been making you feel extra uncomfortable."
"No, not at all, Rina. I just focus on my studies instead of how loud I can hear you scream through the walls. Noise-cancelling headphones do wonders," you say, doing your best to keep a stoic expression on your face. But Karina isn't having any of your bullshit. Not when she's sitting across from you with a smug look and trying her damndest to get you to break this facade.
"Look," Karina sighs dramatically, turning her head to face you directly. "There’s no fooling me. You don't have to act like you don’t enjoy listening to me getting railed. And you'd be lying if you told me you've never been turned on from all that. Just admit you've touched yourself to the sounds of it, and we'll leave this alone."
"Can't say I've done that either."
"Stop—" Her brow arches in frustration, and she can't even hide the smile beginning to break along her lips. "I get it, you're a better liar than I thought. You don’t have to keep pretending."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." You think you deserve an award for not laughing your ass off at this point, but it's an ongoing struggle to keep this going. The best part is that Karina is so insistent on it, completely unwilling to let this go until she gets you to admit that she's caught you.
"Oh, come on, you've jerked off at least once or twice while listening to me, don't play dumb. Like you said, the walls are thin. I can hear when you're getting off too, you know."
"You've got a wild imagination, Karina. I've done nothing of the sort. The only thing I care about is getting a good night's sleep and graduating with honors."
"Fuck that, no one can study constantly. If it wasn't for me getting railed on the regular, I wouldn't even survive. I'd probably drop out and become a bartender or something. Getting dicked down does wonders."
"Everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress. Sex obviously isn't mine."
"Stop, you're such a fucking liar," Karina almost yells, frustration bubbling up as her arms cross even tighter, unable to stop the laughter that slips out. "There's no way that you're studying, what, seven days a week, without getting yourself off? Everyone has horny thoughts, especially guys. I know there are hot girls in your classes, there's no way you aren't fantasizing about them."
"I’m not. Too busy learning about the wonders of—"
"Shut the fuck up," Karina snaps in the most exaggerated tone, leaning forward, trying her hardest to hide her smile and fight whatever antics you keep coming up with. The longer this goes on, the more she breaks out into giggles. It's rather amusing seeing her get worked up like this, the little scrunched face she pulls and the exasperation that oozes from every word, knowing you aren't telling the truth one bit.
"You're not that studious. I've lived with you long enough to know that you're not the nerdy type. I'm right, I know I've seen you come home late. Don't deny it!"
"There's a really nice coffee shop that's by campus open rather—" you begin to say, not exactly sure how you haven't broken down laughing by now.
"Don't you dare tell me you're studying at one in the morning instead of getting your head trapped between some pretty girl's thighs," she interrupts in an instant, gaze piercing right through you. And no longer can you keep a straight face for another second longer, looking away to stop from grinning. But that might be a mistake. As you happen to glance back, Karina gets up out of her seat, this devilish expression as she strides around the table towards you. "If you aren't gonna be honest—maybe I'll just have to get the truth out of you."
Before you can even react, Karina swipes up your laptop with lightning speed and slams the lid shut, not caring for anything else as she drops her weight in your lap. It takes you by surprise, and by now, she has to know how close you are to breaking, deciding to pull out all the stops to try to win her little game of bullshit. "Oh, so you've suddenly gone mute."
And Karina gets impossibly close, staring into your eyes, enough so you have no other option but to look directly in her deadly gaze. She wraps her arms around the back of your neck, resting her hands there, a smirk curling up her lips as she tries to break your resolve all at once.
The way she looks at you is unbelievably seductive, which might be the reason your heart beats faster, with how gorgeous she is up close. That confident little smirk refuses to leave her lips, the scent of her perfume strong in the air, making everything more difficult to endure. It's impossible for you to hide all your weaknesses. And even more impossible to stash your sudden shyness while Karina traces light patterns upon your neck as she lets out another giggle when you start avoiding her eye contact.
"You're cute when you're nervous," she says, that deep voice dripping with nothing but sin and seduction as she takes your chin, lifting you towards her. It's difficult to look away or hide, with her looking right into your eyes—a sharp, penetrative gaze that you can’t flee from, especially not when she gets this close, feeling her warm breath on your skin.
“Tell me—where's that confidence from a few minutes ago gone? A pretty girl sitting on your lap is all it takes for you to break?" Karina purrs against the shell of your ear, lips hovering dangerously close.
You stay silent, muscles all tensed up, breathing audibly and wanting nothing more than to pull away. And it only gets worse when her fingers run lightly through your hair, messing it up playfully as her breath lingers. "Hm? Still not talking? When did you ever get shy with me?"
Karina knows she's won.
As she presses up against your chest, drawing ever so slightly nearer, it's in that brief second when the warmth of her body against yours completely overwhelms you. There's no defense left against her little game of interrogation.
"Let's be real, I know you're jerking off every chance you get, especially when I have a dick inside me," she coos with the most angelic smile you've ever seen, eyes brimming with delight, her touch following the path of your body and taking pleasure in seeing all the little reactions she steals from you.
"But there's nothing wrong with that. Hell, I want you to. The thought of you stroking your cock with the image of me naked and getting fucked turns me on. Knowing my loud moans and screams are the perfect inspiration for your orgasm—that makes it all better, doesn't it?" Karina brushes her lips right into the crook of your neck as she whispers all these obscenities, making damn well sure you hear every single word.
You’ve completely frozen up. It’s not like you to be so demure, but also this isn’t like Karina.
"Oh, you wish it was you, don't you?” Karina asks, memorizing every detail in your expression. ”Poor thing, being stuck as my roommate—having to deal with the fact you aren't fucking me from behind, playing with my tits, and smacking my ass hard until my cheeks sting."
Seeing the clear frustration in your expression puts a smirk on her face again, experiencing the thrill of finally having the upper hand on you. Karina knows she has all the leverage, right here, right now.
"I know you're not the least bit innocent. Not with the way you looked at me when you saw me in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, my naked tits still wet. I bet that made you jerk off right away, didn't it?"
"R-rina—" You finally manage to utter out her name after some considerable struggle, at a complete loss for words. Because this isn’t at all how you expected this to go, but she's right about every single detail, and you find it harder and harder to deny it.
"What is it, sweetie? Have something you wanna say? Wanna tell me the truth? That you fantasize about me all the time, don't you?" And Karina keeps leaning in closer, getting all the answers she wants before you can speak another word.
"Y-yeah, I—"
"Use your words. You can do that for me, can't you? Tell me all the things you can't stop thinking about."
"Fuck, Karina—it's the only thing I think about in the mornings. And at night. Every single day. Even when you haven't had anyone over in a while, I just think about fucking you, what that body looks like naked, how those huge tits would look bouncing in my face.”
You’ve cracked. And there’s no going back now.
"Go on, don't stop there, sweetheart. It's too late to be shy now." Karina smiles so pleasantly and cups your face to keep you from looking anywhere else, her tone immediately shifting. "Tell me you wanna fuck me. You want my tight pussy to swallow up your cock until I can't walk properly tomorrow. You've always wanted that, right?"
"Y-yes, god yes, that's—that's what I want. Wanna bury myself deep inside you, squeeze those perfect tits and fuck you so hard until I unload everything inside."
"See how easy that was? Turns out you’re not very innocent after all, are you?" And Karina seals your confession with a deep kiss, drawing you into a rather warm, heated embrace as she nips at the bottom of your earlobe, giving it the lightest tease before letting go.
"Let's give you everything you've ever wanted, sweetie."
Karina tears herself from the kiss, just so she can run her tongue along your bottom lip and get another taste for herself. A slight pant, and she doesn't waste another minute getting rid of her shirt, exposing her bare skin and massive tits no fabric can contain.
Your pants, they grow tighter in an instant. Those huge tits, the deep cleavage—they're nothing but hypnotic. Karina watches you stare with wonder for several long moments before unhooking her bra to get the entire picture. You swallow hard, eyes going wide as her breasts spill out from their restraints, pale and so fucking perfect, and god, you can't even think straight from how absolutely delicious they look.
Karina leans back to unveil her bare breasts in full view, and even the slightest movement makes them bounce gently. They're practically begging to be touched, and there's no hope of looking away. "Are they everything you ever imagined?"
A nod comes almost automatically in response, captivated by those enormous mounds with the prettiest nipples you've ever seen. Your roommate takes hold of your wrists and leads you to feel every last inch of her luscious pair, right where she knows your fingers want to go.
"Go on, show me exactly what you've always dreamed about, sweetie." Hardly able to believe what’s happening, you take the plunge as you indulge, these tits soft and supple in the palm of your hands. The full weight of her breasts is everything, Karina exhaling a breathy whimper when you massage them with a perfect grip, lightly squeezing, testing their sensitivity.
“You don't have to be gentle. You've wanted to play with these tits so bad, right? Don't hold back now,” Karina says with such a sweet voice. So you take her permission to heart, getting two full handfuls of creamy flesh to squeeze greedily and grope to your heart's desire.
You’re practically speechless. Nothing could ever match the way they fill your hands when you knead them, fingers digging into all that flesh to press them together, only to release and have them bounce, this recoil that seems almost unreal.
"God, these tits—they're fucking incredible, you know that?"
"Oh these? I’m sure all those times you'd peek down my top gave me a clue you’d love them. And you haven't even had them in your mouth yet," Karina says as she reaches for the back of your head. In an instant, she shoves your face right into the delicious valley of her pale breasts, suffocating you with all the softness and warmth of her plentiful chest provides. Her huge tits completely consume your vision, and there is no fighting the urge to lick a stripe down that cleavage to take in the first taste.
It only gets better as she encourages you, tightening fingers in your hair when you run your tongue around her stiff little nub before closing your lips around it, capturing it to suck softly. A delightful shudder rocks her, gasping loudly, and Karina guides your movements, keeping your attention spread out across both breasts to ensure the other isn't getting left behind.
"Good boy," she hums with all the satisfaction in the world, gripping harder when she presses you back into her chest, helping you indulge in this buffet that's been laid out before you. "You’ve been waiting forever for a chance to suck on these tits, haven’t you?"
You refuse to answer with words, replying instead with more frantic sucking, the nipple between your greedy lips growing wetter and wetter. But your free hand stays occupied, as you squeeze the other breast not in your mouth not so gently, sinking into the softness even further. Hungrily, you move between them, feasting on those divine tits to satiate all of your desires, and you’ll suck on them forever if she'll let you.
There's no better treat than the way she feels in your palms and all over your lips. Not now—not while all this lust floods your veins. Not while she whimpers, your actions gaining speed, faster and faster to keep Karina's sensitive nipples trapped in your lips and suck harder. She lets out her moans, a gorgeous sound that echoes, and you can feel every vibrating sound rippling through her ample chest.
"Jesus, your mouth is amazing," she breathes through all the gasps and the moans, all those noises a pure sign of encouragement that drives you forward, until you need a moment to draw a desperate breath. It doesn't stop there. You resume immediately, introducing a bit of teeth to nibble down into the smooth, pink buds, because like you've been told, there's no need to be gentle. Not when Karina clearly prefers it like that, tugging a fistful of your hair, hoping you'll get the message to apply just a little bit more pressure.
All of this attention you're giving her gets Karina nice and bothered, mouth hanging open as she pants to control her breathing. You could stay here forever, happily settled with a pair of tits stuffed into your mouth. Maybe she lets you. Maybe you spend an eternity exploring that delicious rack, because it can never truly satisfy your craving for them.
"Mmm, feels so fucking good," is how she answers your teeth dragging across those wet nipples, whining when it suddenly leaves, depriving her of your lips just you can stare longingly at the swell of her heavy breasts once again.
You have to admire your work on her sensitive breasts when you pull back, swimming in bliss as you see the sight of them glistening with your saliva, nipples so visibly hard and drenched now. There's no denying how much you love having Karina's huge tits all to yourself, how you just want to drown in all this soft, pale flesh.
"Don’t tell me you’re done already?" Karina asks, disappointment in her tone while she strokes the back of your head. "I can feel how fucking hard that cock of yours is from just sucking on my tits…"
Once again, you have no response, still lost in a fog of lust as you squeeze those supple mounds, giving another tender lick to those nipples covered in spit to get the smallest gasp from her lips. "I could play with your big fucking tits all day.”
Karina giggles, content to let you do just that. "Well, you've earned that, sweetheart. But I think we should move this to the bedroom, so we can get more comfortable, and maybe you can get me out of these clothes?”
"Yeah—right, bedroom," you repeat, distracted by how tantalizing her perfect tits look still soaked with your spit. She laughs and offers up a hand to help pull you to your feet, taking the chance to sneak another kiss before you get too far apart.
You’re dragged along up to her room, left to gawk over her body as you follow obediently. Those shorts are just a bit too tight to hide any details of her curvy ass, which sways rhythmically with every last step. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, Karina pulls you right into another embrace, a hot and needy kiss, your hands finding their place on her slender waist you plan to become familiar with.
"Get me naked like you've always fantasized," Karina says the instant your lips separate, heading towards the bed without waiting for your response. You don't have to be told twice, too eager to find out how the rest of her body compares as she bends over, placing her hands on the sheets.
The scene in front of you sends a rush of anticipation, and immediately, you reach for those ridiculously tight shorts, pausing a moment only to feel just how firm Karina's butt is under them. This all feels like a dream, one that you hope stays a reality as your eyes aimlessly wander all over this flawless skin.
Her huge breasts push into the mattress, so soft and inviting, fighting for your attention from that backside, and this is already so overwhelming, before you’ve even seen what’s underneath here.
"Taking your sweet time, hm?" she teases, rolling her hips ever so slightly, hoping to hurry your pace, a hint you gladly take without an ounce of hesitation. Undoing her zipper takes only seconds, and Karina's smooth, pale thighs become more exposed as you gradually peel her shorts down inch by inch. The curve of her ass nearly spills out from the pink thong you've seen for the first time, and this sight is almost as breathtaking as her massive chest.
"Only get to do this for the first time once."
“You poor thing. Guess I can’t blame you.” Slipping out of her shorts with ease, Karina makes them drop to the floor where they can be easily forgotten. You're left frozen in awe at the perfection of her full, plump ass that looks far too good in this thong, and those creamy thighs that must feel like heaven wrapped around your head.
"Come on, take my panties off too. You want a full view of this all, don't you?" Once you're done admiring her shapely ass, Karina turns her gaze over her shoulder, that smile far too much to deny. And as much as you want to keep staring, your hands already move on their own, desperate to finish what you've started.
Running your fingertips under the waistband, you tug that thin fabric right off, to reveal the fullness of those scrumptious cheeks and that pink, glistening pussy that looks too mouthwatering to resist.
Now it all comes together.
Karina is flawless, every deadly curve, every inch of milky white skin exposed, giving you yet another reason to stare at that sinful figure. There's no fighting the urge to squeeze what your fingers can sink into, taking a nice handful of her shapely rear that you can’t take your eyes off. It's an addiction without a cure, groping those juicy cheeks that are the definition of perfection, and you can't decide which part of her you want to worship the most.
"Such a pervert," Karina giggles, and this time you can’t say you disagree with that.
"Never said I wasn't." There's no point in denying what she clearly already knows, not when you can't look anywhere else. Not after being denied the privilege of her body until this moment—you've got some time to make up.
"The first time you've seen me naked and all you can do is stare?" Karina quirks an eyebrow, putting her hand on her hips, to display that body deserving of all the praise you can give her. She closes the distance between the two of you in just a few short steps, grabbing hold of the collar on your shirt. "How about you show me something too while you're drooling?"
There's no hesitation on your end, knowing what’s expected as you pull your shirt over your head and drop it on the ground to join her clothes. Karina runs a fingertip along your bare chest, an approving smile spreading over her lips while her eyes glance over you carefully, this newfound hunger in her eyes.
"Much better," she says, and now you're the one who's being gawked at, shirtless, under the gaze of your undeniably stunning roommate who can't help herself from exploring your body. You can’t say you don’t mind the attention at all.
She traces the outline of your biceps, grazing along your shoulders, then down to your abdomen, leaving a faint, teasing touch to test the reaction she receives. And then, with no warning, those fingers move lower to palm your growing bulge so blatantly straining through your pants.
"You're so fucking hard, it must be painful. But this time, I can help you with that. What do you wanna do with me, sweetheart?"
Where do you even start? Never did you expect to be caught in a moment like this, your roommate fully naked, stroking her hand along the length of your clothed cock, ready to finally do something about this pent-up tension she's caused. The possibilities are endless—but when Karina is looking at you like this, her fingers making your cock throb, waiting for you to choose, it's hard to think straight.
"Can't decide? I don't blame you. But don't worry—I know just what we can start with." You don't have time to guess as Karina takes the lead and pushes you back towards her bed, patting the mattress. "Be a good boy and sit here, and I’ll take care of you."
Karina drops to her knees ever so slowly and licks her lips. Before you realize what's going on, she's pulling down your pants, boxers falling shortly after, and now she can see exactly what you were hiding underneath, this hard shaft that's been desperate to spring loose.
"Oh my god, your cock—it's gorgeous, sweetie," Karina gasps, staring right at your stiff shaft twitching impatiently just for her.
There's barely a chance to process everything happening before she reaches forward, running a curious finger up the underside of your cock and watching the resulting shudder. Those pretty fingers wrap around your aching length, and Karina smiles up at you with pure delight in her eyes as she jerks your cock slowly, discovering all these new reactions you make.
"Karina," you gasp out, almost choking, a shiver running down your spine at that light stroke—almost too fleeting for it to bring any pleasure. She repeats, with more enthusiasm, tightening her grip and using the clear liquid that leaks out to aid the movement of her fingers.
"Look at you, so fucking hard, throbbing so much for me. You like that? My hand wrapped around your cock?"
Karina has this look on her face that has no business being that damn innocent, not with those fingers squeezing you just right, or those huge breasts that shake ever so slightly with each pump of her fist. When she begins to pick up the pace, working you faster, twisting her hand up and down the length of your hard shaft, the urge to do anything but moan becomes near impossible. “You really do, don’t you? Well then, how about this—“
A string of spit falls onto your cock, smearing over her palm to slicken your shaft. She leans down to part her lips, hot breath hitting your shaft for the first time as she takes the entire head in her mouth and starts to gently suck, tongue working right behind.
"Shit, oh my god, Karina—“
She’s got you in her sights, and there's nothing to do but surrender completely to the pleasure, eyes locked with her as she keeps those lips sealed tight, the wet warmth of her mouth engulfing you little by little. Karina's response comes in an instant, bobbing her head, slurping down on your shaft so greedily, showing all the appreciation you’ve earned.
It's when her gaze flickers upwards to see your expression that it really becomes the death of you—the sight of her staring, with her round doe eyes, sucking and lapping around your shaft so eagerly is just too much to take. And if that wasn’t enough, her cheeks hollow out, every long pass making the view even better—this filthy slurping and sucking as her drool starts to run down your shaft, spilling from the corner of her lips to create the perfect picture.
It's messy and wet, the sounds that accompany this sloppy blowjob only adding to the heat that's building. Her tongue doesn't stay dormant, sliding up and down and flicking around your swollen cockhead as she tastes what her lips aren't currently around.
"Your mouth, god, your mouth feels fucking incredible—" is about all you can gasp.
"Did you expect anything else?" Karina asks as she takes more of your cock, swallowing deep down without warning, bobbing faster and going just a little further to see how many inches you can handle down her throat.
Her mouth feels like heaven, so slick and warm, with those luscious lips wrapped so tightly around your throbbing cock. A steady back and forth rhythm keeps up to take more, over and over, until every inch is nestled firmly into the tight grip of her throat. “I've been missing out on sucking this beautiful cock of yours—mmph."
Her mouth only gets messier as she slurps and swallows you down, resting her palms on your bare thighs, taking down your length with far more vigor than you could hope for. This blowjob is effortless on her end, a routine, and Karina doesn't pause to catch her breath or rest her throat—she’s driven, determined to keep her spell on you, without a moment where she even looks close to gagging.
"How does that mouth feel on your cock, sweetie?" Karina asks. The words come so easy between slurps and sucks on your aching shaft, getting wetter from all the slick saliva that helps keep you buried down her throat.
"So fucking good," you groan, tilting your head back, and there isn't anything else you could think of to properly praise this work. That's all Karina wants to hear.
"Then let me make you feel even better,” she tells you, flashing a wicked smile with a gleam in her eye that has your cock pulsing hard between her lips. Before you can question a thing, her mouth releases your slick cock, taking these lazy strokes to keep you nice and stiff. There’s a moment where nearly nothing happens, aside from her staring and pumping your cock. The silence lingers. Until finally, she takes your cock, hard as can be—
Karina guides it directly between her enormous breasts. You can hardly breathe, much less speak, and your jaw practically drops when you feel the soft flesh of her massive chest wrapped snugly around your shaft. Her hands come together, fingers interlocking, pressing those tits tighter against your length and that devilish smirk returns as she looks down at the surprise and joy in your expression.
And you can hardly believe the sight when she begins to rock her chest, trapping you between her tits with no chance to escape. The friction picks up, sliding the entire length of your cock with no intention of slowing down or stopping, and Karina stares right into your eyes, admiring the pleasure written all over your features to make sure you commit this to memory.
With her tits wrapped so perfectly around your cock, you won’t last long. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll enjoy every second. Every delicate squeeze, every lingering moment her fingers massage the base of your needy, throbbing shaft. And when she spits between her deep cleavage to make the friction even better, a slicker mess for your cock to slide between, that’s how you start to lose it.
“Jesus, Karina—feels so fucking good, oh my god.” It took so long getting used to the blissful suction from that pretty mouth, but this? There isn't any way to survive these full breasts that keep your entire length enveloped in such perfect warmth.
“Does it? Love how good your cock looks between my big tits."
You can’t disagree one bit, because it looks almost as good as it feels. There's no describing how euphoric it all is, the way your shaft vanishes into that perfect valley of pale flesh with Karina squeezing firmly, grinding her chest up and down to let the slippery friction of her soft breasts coax those dizzying groans out of your mouth. "You love fucking my tits, don't you, sweetie?"
"Yeah—so much, this is just, fuck,” you moan, nearly collapsing back against the sheets at the intense sensations that jolt through your body.
But Karina doesn't give you a chance to relax, quickening her pace, making your whole shaft throb with need as you continue to watch that massive pair of breasts move and bounce atop your shaft. She's loving this as much as you are, dragging out all these desperate moans that beg for more.
"Look how needy you sound—all because you get to fuck these huge tits," Karina teases you, grinding her upper body harder, massaging your achingly hard cock that looks devastatingly good sandwiched between her breasts like that. Your mouth stays open, but no words spill out, leaving room for more groans and she doesn't hesitate to keep that pleasure building and building with such intensity.
You know this can't last forever, but despite that, you're savoring this mind-numbing pleasure, doing what you can not to succumb and explode too soon. These tits are so soft, so warm, and you're throbbing so much from the friction alone, trying to delay the inevitable when your cock disappears and reappears between Karina's abundant cleavage.
"Can't take much more—"
Karina smiles, smug and devious all at the same time as she doesn't bother to ease up, your stiff shaft begging to release all over those perfect breasts. There's not another moment to delay this endless bliss driving you mad, your balls tight and throbbing for an orgasm you can't ignore. "Are you going to cum, sweetie? Ready to make a huge fucking mess all over my tits?"
You're practically delirious, finding it harder to breathe, the weakest nod all you can give. But Karina can tell how close you are by how your cock endlessly throbs and leaks. She shifts forward again, squeezing as tight as possible, bringing you closer and closer to a long overdue release. All this delicious friction is too much, bringing that pleasure to the very edge, and when you look down at her again and share the next glance, the encouraging look in her eyes is the last thing that sets you off.
"Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum all over these tits like you've always wanted to."
That's all it takes.
Your whole body tenses and stiffens as your climax swells up and hits you hard. With your cock nestled between her tits, you can see everything as the first blast of sticky, white cum fires up and explodes all over her pale skin, groaning with every spurt that splashes across her breasts and neck, one heavy, thick stream after another that leaves you shaking.
Karina doesn't cease for one instant, her tits snugly pressed together as you fill up her cleavage with hot cum, keeping this explosive orgasm going strong. Her full lips part with surprise as your load leaves such a mess, this heavy warmth clinging all over her exposed skin, coating her deep cleavage nicely with that sticky sheen. Her breasts make you cum harder than you think you ever have.
And even when it's all over, your load dripping down and oozing out between her huge tits, they stay where they are, squeezing it all out so she can ensure nothing gets wasted. Only when Karina is satisfied that you've been properly drained, your breath all heavy and weak, does she ease off, freeing your cock from her cleavage just to rub your sensitive tip against her hardened nipples to smear the warm mess you made.
"Such a huge, thick load for me. You needed that so badly, right? Didn’t it feel so good to get it all out over my perfect tits?"
Words fail you, only able to muster a weak tilt of your head as you lean back, spent completely, eyes focused on the glistening mess on Karina's chest, all this cum that she wears proudly to put on a little show to display your work.
"Did I make you cum too hard for you to talk, sweetie? You poor thing, how long has it been since someone got you off like this?"
"D-dunno," you say breathlessly, watching her hand continue to work up and down your drained shaft, still twitching desperately, needing every second of her attention. "Can't remember—far too long."
"Oh baby, that's no good—this beautiful cock should always be given attention." There's no denying how right she is about that, but before you can even muster a sound in response, Karina is gripping your cock a little tighter in her hand to keep it rigid. While you stare at those beautiful, cum-covered breasts, the lust has hardly faded. "Think you can handle going again? Or does your cock need a little more time to rest?"
There's only one possible answer. As sensitive and sore as your cock might be after shooting a load all over those fabulous tits, your hardness makes its intentions clear when it pulsates with need in her hand. You'd be disappointed if you stopped now.
"Need more. Need to be inside you, please," you respond, borderline pleading to finally feel what Karina's heavenly pussy feels like—how tight that immaculate grip must be.
“Thought so. But there's no need to beg, sweetheart—now why don't you lie on the bed so I can ride your cock?"
You’ve never heard a more beautiful set of words.
There's no second thought or hesitation. Karina is every bit willing to fulfill all your desires as you climb onto the bed and get comfy on the sheets. She crawls over on her hands and knees, but doesn't settle right into your lap. Instead, she presses her warm body atop your own, your naked flesh crashing together, those heavy breasts squashed tightly up against your bare chest as her lips find your own.
Her skin is so soft when you caress it, and the kisses come so abruptly, as does the hand that snakes down to lazily stroke your cock while she's busy letting her sweet taste linger on your lips.
"Tell me whenever you're ready, and I’ll take you inside me. This is just a nice little warmup," Karina promises in such a dulcet tone that you're tempted to respond immediately—but honestly, you don't know if you'll ever be ready for what she has in store.
So you lie there, surrendering to those lips, and let yourself revel in this delightful warmth she presses against you. It's the kind of lackadaisical make-out session that could never end, with no urgent need to rush. Her kisses are slow and steady, lips claiming yours with the same care and attention her fingers give your stiff shaft, jerking you off at a deliberate pace that makes you leak more and more for her.
"Rina—"
"Yes, baby? What do you need?" Karina responds as she pulls her face away, waiting for that answer, but doesn't dare stop pumping your needy, achingly hard shaft in her delicate fingers. "Need to be inside me, sweetie? Do you wanna know how good my pussy feels?"
"So badly, yeah," you answer with haste, nearly stuttering over the words as Karina pushes herself into a full mount to straddle your lap. She swings her thighs on either side of you, all spread out so you can get a teasing glimpse of her pussy while she gazes down at you with a sweet smile, your shaft aching against your abdomen.
"Tell me exactly what you need. Wanna hear it from you, sweetie. Don't get shy on me now."
"Want you to fuck me—wanna be deep inside that beautiful pussy, want you to ride me until you cum. Please." The words tumble right out, and it's all so embarrassing, but that's exactly what she wanted, isn't it?
Karina takes your acceptance on her offer with a beaming smile, reaching behind her to grab your aching cock in her palm, keeping a firm grip as she positions herself to guide you inside. The anticipation hits its peak when she lifts her wide hips up, bringing you right against the warm entrance of her slick pussy.
"Don't you worry. I'll ride you until we both cum."
Before your next breath, Karina lowers herself—a slow descent onto your cock that spreads her pussy lips apart, sinking into that soaked, wet heat inch after inch. You're coated with all this slickness, and that tight cunt squeezes so goddamn hard as she works you deeper, breath shaky when you hit the deepest parts of her.
"Fuck—it's so big," Karina curses, shifting in your lap for the briefest pause to adjust, bracing herself to take more. “You still with me, sweetie? You’ve gone quiet again.”
"How can I say anything, when your pussy feels this tight and incredible?"
Karina just laughs. The moment her hips lower again, she’s already in motion, gyrating on you, adjusting to the tight fit. There's no time to process it all, with that hot cunt sliding up and down your length. She doesn't tease, and her movements aren’t the least bit gradual, just the rapid rise and fall of her body.
“You fill me up so nicely, sweetheart,” Karina says, the praise sending you over the moon as she rests her hands on your chest for support.
It's every bit as mind blowing as you'd hoped it would be. Her wetness makes for an effortless movement of her hips, keeping a steady pace right off the bat that leaves you helpless beneath her. "Does that feel good? Do you like how my wet little pussy grips your big cock?"
You want to reply, but that pussy is so perfect, wet and warm all over your aching length. So all that leaves your lips is a strangled moan that has Karina lifting her hips up with more ferocity. You don't dare close your eyes for one instant as she rides you with that sinfully tight cunt, your shaft vanishing inside her slick entrance, over and over.
Nothing surpasses this—to see Karina so beautiful on top, those luscious tits bouncing whenever she drops back down to fill herself up with your hard cock, only to ride up again and leave you gasping.
"Fuck, love being inside you," you say, trying your best to speak, but it's a challenge when her cunt gets tighter after each wild plunge. Those heavy tits move in motion with her hips, and the sight of her alone has you groaning as she gives it her all, relentless on that cock. "Can't believe how good your pussy feels, fuck—"
"Yeah? You like how I ride you? How I take your thick cock all the way in with ease?" she says, drawing you right back in.
Karina doesn't stop. The pace gets faster with each drop down on your shaft. It's more than you can handle, watching that perfect body move so effortlessly as she takes you balls deep to make you groan beneath her, so utterly drenched and tight around you.
You can’t take your eyes off her jiggling chest, how hypnotic the bounces of those breasts get, and this is the perfect chance to take them in your hands once more, squeezing and groping the flesh while Karina fucks herself harder on your cock.
"There you go, play with those fucking tits—squeeze them, smack them, do whatever you'd like." Karina gives the offer, and your fingers are already moving to obey, grabbing a perfect handful of those supple tits that can't even be contained in your palms.
It's the distraction you desperately need, and the first slap to one of her pale breasts comes so quickly, the pliant skin rippling so nicely under the impact of your hand.
"Fuck, again—slap those fucking tits, baby, just like that," Karina demands, and who are you to deny her? There's not a thing to hold you back, taking turns to slap those wonderful breasts with enough force that they bounce against each strike, and they get so red under your fingers. Each slap gets harsher than the last, earning the best response from her—a tightening grip around your hard cock and loud whimpers whenever your palm makes contact with that supple flesh, turning her creamy skin a darker shade.
All this treatment leaves your cock dripping wet with Karina's slick juices, every part of you soaked as she keeps bouncing her gorgeous body atop your stiff length.
Her mouth stays open to voice her satisfaction with needy gasps and groans, every inch of her pussy stretched around your girth, keeping you deep. Those continuous smacks against her jiggling tits elicit the sweetest whines, reddened so beautifully from all this attention.
Karina loves it all. So needy for your touch, for this sweet punishment she takes with all the desperation as you smack her tits while she rides your cock. Her movements, they’re hard to handle, hips slamming hard against you as that plump ass bounces on your cock, picking up all this speed. Fucking you harder and harder, those heavy tits never cease bouncing wildly, smacking together when you give a respite to let the sting linger.
"Fucking love your cock inside me, sweetie—love it so fucking much," she tells you, hips rolling faster to keep the pace going strong, all this wetness and heat smothering you.
And now you're content to just lie back, taking in the view while Karina rides you, how she takes every inch of your throbbing shaft like it belongs inside her. She keeps a perfect rhythm that buries your cock inside her tight pussy with every impale, so wet and slick when she brings those hips back up to start the entire process again.
"Gonna fucking cum, baby. Gonna fucking cum all over this hard cock. Can you last long enough?" Karina asks with a coy little smirk, not faltering for even an instant as she keeps fucking you, tight pussy clinging so harshly around your length. And to be honest, you don't even know yourself—but Karina seems determined to drain your balls, even if it has you finishing way sooner than you’d like.
"D-dunno," you answer, knowing that with your hands on her body and those bouncing breasts so mesmerizing, there's only so long before you're pushing past the point of no return. "Probably not—"
Karina lets out a giggle in response that gets ripped right out when she takes you so unbelievably deep, all of your thick cock filling her up in the right way. She's so fucking tight, pale skin glistening with sweat in the light, adding to the view that could get you off from just the sight of her devilish body. "That's okay, sweetie. This cock feels too fucking good to stop."
The next few breaths are all a blur as this becomes a race to the finish. Your eyes stay glued to Karina, unable to look away as her hips move on autopilot. Amidst each movement, she moves quicker with every passing moment, that delicious wetness sliding along your hard length, bouncing her ass each time those thighs slam down on you. The bed squeaks and shakes beneath the constant, rhythmic impact, and you know this can only end one way—
"Shit, sweetheart, gonna fucking cum all over that dick, oh my god—" Karina falls over the edge first, and that cunt grips harder than ever like a vice, nearly unbearable, overflowing with arousal while she quivers above you. Her lips fall open as she looks down with half-lidded eyes, fingernails digging straight into your chest when it hits, every whimpering cry a lovely symphony for you to listen, to watch as it all happens, clinging for dear life while she climaxes so fucking hard all over your cock.
It's incredible, to see the way she loses herself completely to the pleasure, the mess that drowns your shaft while her tight pussy keeps spasming with every gush, and you have to grit your teeth to hold everything at bay.
“You wanna cum in me, sweetie?" she asks, through ragged breaths, a proud look shining through the bliss on her face, still riding that intense high.
A question like that only has one answer.
"Y-yeah, so badly—wanna fucking fill you up," you say, with all the confidence you've ever had. Pushing herself into overdrive, Karina fucks you as fast as her body allows, this mindless, relentless motion of those hips that drives you to the very edge, those big tits bouncing wildly until there's no chance you'll hold back—not a second longer.
And then you fucking spill. You seize her body and keep those hips pinned in place, buried to the hilt as your cock pulsates and throbs inside her warm cunt. Everything fires all at once, flooding right into Karina, thick spurt after thick spurt as she watches the pleasure overtake you. Her walls clench down to milk it straight out of your throbbing shaft as your moans pour out, making sure this huge mess goes where it belongs while you pump her full of cum.
It feels like it’ll never end—so unbelievably overwhelming, your balls emptying right inside Karina, the relief of getting to blow your load inside her for the first time that keeps getting better and better. All your hot seed unloads into her warm pussy, filling her to the brim, and her euphoric gaze help your intense climax linger by the second.
And when there’s nothing left in your balls, Karina still wears that blissed-out smile as she remains right on your shaft, the weight of her body coming to rest against yours. She weakly runs her slender fingers through your hair and kisses you tenderly, both sharing this moment of pure euphoria.
"Good boy..."
The weight of those words, they nearly make you blow again.
Karina plays with your hair as she takes those sloppy, lazy kisses, with your spent shaft still nestled deep inside her dripping cunt. You don't dare move, or do anything else. She seems quite content to just stay there motionless, your bodies pressed so closely together as your cock stays warm in her pussy. "Didn't think you had that much left in you, sweetie. Fucked it right out of you, huh?"
You're much too exhausted to respond, so instead you just lean in for more, letting those lips do what they do best, savoring the taste, the bliss, and all this sweat on your body and hers.
It's in that moment the realization hits that your relationship has shifted. No longer do you have to listen to Karina get railed through the walls—because it's you who's in her bed now, naked, covered in sweat, with your cum deep inside her, and her lips feel so good on your bare skin that you don’t ever want to leave this position.
"So—” she says, and her voice hardly sounds out of breath in comparison. “Do you wanna shower first or—do you wanna just go again?“
It's the most absurd thing to hear—as if she didn't just drain you, the evidence still deep between her legs.
“Both."
Not the answer Karina was expecting, but one that leaves her more than pleased as she presses another kiss to your cheek before finally climbing off you. A few careful steps later and she makes her way across the room, your cum slowly trickling down her thighs. Not stopping to clean any of it, she just lets your load drip out as she saunters into the bathroom and leaves the door wide open.
"Don't keep me waiting, sweetie."
✦ ✦
When you next get wrapped up in these sheets, it’s the exact same picture. But you’re the one on top, lips wandering all over Karina, fingers interlocked while she gets all giggly between kisses. The sweat is still there, and so are the handprints, but this time in a different location, imprinted all over her pale buttcheeks.
And now you’ve learned that the view from behind is almost as impeccable as it is from the front, to see Karina bent over, those ridiculous breasts bouncing freely like there's no controlling them while you ram into her wet pussy. And then you cum, hard—inside her, of course, because how could you not when you’ve got both of her jiggly tits in your palms, squeezing that magnificent pair as you unload right into her pussy.
With Karina, there’s no such thing as too much, or too often—not with that body. You make her cum on your face twice, and then she returns the favor moments after. This time, it’s all over her face, absolutely covering her, that fucking picture-perfect face that makes it seem like Karina isn’t real. But she is—and the way she smiles as your cum drips down her gorgeous features proves it.
No longer do you go to bed horny, but exhausted, with Karina lying beside you. Your own bed becomes neglected as your days and nights become spent in her room, listening to her fall asleep, head resting on those perfect breasts that put any other pillows to shame.
Your mornings start with Karina, greeting her with your head buried between her creamy thighs while the coffee gets brewed. But she doesn’t need you to look after her when her head spins, because she doesn’t get as hungover anymore, with no reason to get drunk off her ass when she has you to help take the edge off whenever she needs it.
It isn’t a relationship by title, but you certainly have all the benefits, the biggest one being your cum coating those big tits as often as it gets inside her pussy—
“Fuck me again,” she breathes in your ear one morning, seconds after you just finished all over her chest, your cock still painfully hard in between them. You’ve got your hands all over her messy tits when she asks it, fondling the soft flesh slick with cum, making shallow pumps between her deep cleavage, but her greedy little pussy calls to you.
But before you slip out—a loud knock on the door interrupts out of nowhere.
"Were you expecting someone?" you ask Karina, but her eyes tell you she's just as confused, face covered with sweat and her hair all disheveled from this hot and heavy session.
"No, I wasn't. Were you?" she asks in return, and neither of you pay it any attention. But the knocks continue, more urgent, more frequent. You don't think it's the neighbors coming to complain—that wouldn't happen this early, and you're mostly surrounded by other students and college grads anyway. "Ugh. Just ignore it. We can continue fucking—"
And that's what you both plan to do. It isn't until the knocks turn into full on bangs that Karina sighs and gives up. "God, fuck. This better be important."
You can see the anger and annoyance written all over her face.
Karina doesn't bother to throw a towel over herself before heading to the door in all her glory, naked and beautiful, still covered in your load, all the sticky, white mess dripping down her chest that she couldn't possibly clean in time before the door swings wide open—
Yizhuo.
It's fucking Yizhuo. Standing there at the doorstep. And there's Karina, all naked, and Yizhuo seems completely unfazed to see her without a shred of clothes.
"Hey," Yizhuo says casually, like this isn't the weirdest thing she could have seen standing in front of her. "Do you usually answer the door naked like this? Was there a fire?"
"When you won't fucking stop knocking and interrupting, yeah. What is it?"Karina sounds so angry that Yizhuo is almost taken back, and you just watch from a distance after slipping your boxers back on.
"Well, I haven't heard from you in a while. Came to check how you're doing, you haven't shown up at any of the parties lately. Wanted to make sure you're still alive. You could have sent a message if you're too fucking busy to talk—"
"What? I'm not—sorry, I've had a lot of assignments, and—you know," Karina hesitates, stuttering to explain her absence to Yizhuo. She looks at you as if to plead for some support. "I-I'm...fine. Totally fine."
"Assignments, yeah, that's what it looks like you were busy with. Explains why you're all naked and sweaty," Yizhuo says, almost mockingly. But Karina just bites her lip and frantically waves you over.
"What the fuck were you knocking so loudly this early for, then?"
"To make sure you weren't dead! That's it," Yizhuo retorts, and it's all too funny how this is turning out. Karina isn't even ashamed to have been caught—even more so when you stand at her side, half naked and covered with sweat, just like her.
"Oh. Hi there, you must be Karina's new boyfrie—"
"He's my roommate!"
Yizhuo raises a brow at that, as if to challenge the excuse. "You have a roommate?"
"He moved in last year," Karina clarifies, with an exasperated sigh. But that isn't what Yizhuo cares about right now, or what she even wants to know—
"And you fuck him?"
"Yizhuo!"
"That's not a no. He's cuter than the last guy I saw you with. Does he have a name?" Yizhuo asks, turning to you instead, and she's all grins as you finally step forward to meet her. "You got a name, or is that only reserved for Karina to scream?"
"Okay, time to leave, you've seen enough."
Karina's more embarrassed than offended. And Yizhuo seems all too amused, but you don't miss that lingering gaze when she gives you a quick scan up and down, admiring all of you—from your bare chest down to your boxers. "Well, I'll let you two get back to fucking—"
"Alright! Time for you to go—have a good day, and text me if you want to meet up, yeah? We'll get something to eat, or have a coffee."
And just like that, the door closes shut behind her, and you can't help but laugh as Karina sighs in defeat and collapses onto the wooden frame.
"So, that's Yizhuo—" you say, trying to keep it together, but she glares back at you as if it's all your fault that this happened.
"Don't," she mutters. "Not a word, sweetie."
"She's cute, too."
"What? Oh my god, seriously, do not—" Karina protests, but she just rolls her eyes and gives this faux look of annoyance as she pulls you closer. "Do you wanna fuck her too?"
"I didn't say that," you reply, and without even getting a chance to explain yourself Karina silences you with her lips. It's all tongue and teeth and it's so damn sloppy that it takes a while before either of you can get another word in.
"You can fuck her if you want. I don't mind. If you think she's cute, that is. Go and fuck her. You have my blessing."
You laugh, still finding all this absurd "I don't—Karina, that's not what I meant. It's fine. I like what I have."
"And what is that?" Karina ponders, peppering your face with kisses.
"A hot roommate with amazing tits that lets me cum inside her everyday,” you blurt out, and Karina just turns beet red from embarrassment.
"Yeah? Is that all I am to you?" she asks, almost cracking up at the end from her snorting laughter, her arms moving around your waist to tug you closer. "Maybe all you are to me is just a big cock for me to ride.”
"Well, as long as we've got it all figured out—"
And just like that, your lips crash again in unison.
“But if you want, I can give you Yizhuo’s number. Pretty sure she would suck you off in the middle of a park if you just asked her for the time."
"Jesus," you mutter, incredulous at the words slipping from her lips. "Didn't you say she was your best friend?"
"Oh, she is. But she's also the biggest slut I know." Karina has the widest grin you've ever seen.
You don't even have a word to say to that, but you don't need one when you let those lips overtake yours again. "Weren't we in the middle of something? We’ve still got an hour before I have to shower and get to class, so I better see you fucking me into next week."
And you can't possibly resist that.
#kpop smut#aespa smut#karina smut#reader insert#girl group smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#male reader#reader x karina
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
there's trouble in paradise. but lucky for you, your other half would do anything for you. anything. (arranged-husband!simon x fem!reader)
previous part (recommended read, but not required)
cw: reader is described as plus-sized/curvier, dark!reader, dark!simon, unhealthy relationship dynamics (both of you are so fucked up inside), horror movie vibes, themes of obsession + possessiveness + psychopathic behavior, military criticism, mature language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence, mentions of simon's canon trauma, voyeurism, smut, piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving), breeding kink 18+ (this piece is very dark and includes the encouraged murder of someone innocent -> read at your own discretion)
if simon is anything, it is that he's...unpredictable. except for how he spends his mornings.
you close your eyes when you feel his warm hand on your jaw. your head tilts back, and you part your lips, knowing what will come. your hear the shuffle of fabric, and then you're kissed, a sloppy kind of kiss, a harsh tongue slipping into your mouth and tracing your teeth.
it's aggressive, his kiss. he doesn't try to savor the taste, he just takes. his teeth hit yours sometimes, but he doesn't apologize. just cradles your head in a different direction and continues to shove his greedy tongue down your throat.
you chase him when he pulls away. he chuckles, the bastard, and when you open your eyes, he stands tall behind where you sit. you smile up at him, opening your mouth obediently, and you take two of his fingers and suck. the pads of his fingers press against your tongue, and you lap at the callouses. it feels good to be full of him, in any way he will give.
you like having some part of him inside of you, always. it makes you feel whole. complete. incredibly satisfied, a cup full of liquid, blood touching your tongue.
"good morning," simon murmurs, glaring down at you almost. if you didn't know him, you'd take his expression for ire, but you know it's just the intensity of whatever sits in his chest. "worried when y'weren't in bed."
you flutter your lashes, and simon palms at your throat, bending lower. you want to nibble on his scarred bottom lip, but he holds you at such a length to keep you away. you pout a little.
"don't do tha' again," he tells you. it is a warning. someone else might take this too literally, too harshly. as if he was commanding you, and he is, sort of, but they wouldn't understand. no one would understand. "y'hear?"
you nod.
"sorry," you whisper, letting his fingers go and kissing them softly. "couldn't sleep...didn't wanna wake you."
he sniffs. he doesn't like what he hears.
"and wot do i always say?" he asks. "hmm?"
you smile a little, looking away, bashful. "that...that i can have whatever i want."
"tha's right."
you giggle, standing from your seat, turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. he picks you up from the fat of your hips, hoisting you onto the kitchen table with ease. he knocks your knees apart, stepping between them, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him easily.
"tell me," he commands. "tell me wot's on y'r mind."
you sniffle, dragging your knuckles down his masked cheek. you nuzzle your nose into his, closing your eyes, and he leans into you, wanting more. he reads you well. there isn't a flicker in your eyes that he wouldn't catch. he's too perceptive, too observant, too in-tune with what you are, which is his. it relieves you, in a way. you don't have to lie because he will always catch your dishonesty.
"how come..." you bite your lip. "y-you told me i shouldn't call you. when you're away. s-so...so i send letters to base. but...you never respond."
he tilts his head to the side, cupping the back of your neck. when he finds your eyes, he keeps them, steadying you with a firm grip.
"wot letters?"
you pull back a little, blinking up at him.
"i...i send you a letter. e-every day that you're gone. i-i...i send it to you."
he shakes his head, "swee'eart, i've never gotten a letter."
you swallow, smoothing your hands down his chest. you frown a little, looking down.
"oh..." your heart eases a little. "i...i thought you were ignoring me."
"probably just some bloke tha' doesn't know m'name," simon soothes you. "would never ignore ya. and y'know the number to call in an emergency, but i suppose 'm glad tha' you've never had ta call."
you meet his eyes. dark. purposeful. focused.
"i can take care of myself."
the letters never arrive, even after you double check their address. you show it to him the next time he comes home, the back of the envelope with the address scribbled onto it, and all he does is shrug.
"tha's me, luv," he mutters, pushing the letter aside, hoisting you up against the wall as he kisses you hungrily. "now open up," he growls, shredding your panties with a tight fist as he fucks into you eagerly. "oll f'me, missed y'r cunt..."
simon is nothing if he isn't an insatiable animal. every time he comes home, he fucks you until your vision is nearly permanently blurred with tears and your brain is defiantly turned off. he fucks you dumb, in every sense, and you think he enjoys the way he swipes your drool with a big thumb and sucks it into his mouth with a groan. maybe it tastes different, when you're brainless from another orgasm and saying things that aren't coherent, hips canted up as he continues to pound into you from behind.
but you adore it. you love it. you love him.
it's visceral, what you feel inside. it tears at something delicate. whenever you look at him, you can't help the smile, even if it's small. the way he makes you feel when you look into his eyes--it nearly chokes you. neither of you ever last long. someone always breaks the moment, moving until you are near so that you can kiss feverishly.
you both scramble to be together. when he comes home, he always attacks you as soon as the front door smacks against the wall. you've fucked numerous times on the floor in the foyer, too eager to welcome him back when he goes for weeks on end to even make it to the couch. you love when he practically tackles you to the floor, throwing you down as he gets between your legs, big hand cradled into your hair so it doesn't smack against the hardwood floor. the gesture is so sweet that it makes your eyes tear, even if he's biting at your tits so hard they nearly draw blood.
simon would do anything for you. there is nothing that crosses a boundary, no request that he would not fulfill, no crime he wouldn't commit. he's disgusting, a right prick bastard that you know would enjoy skinning the backs of someone's hands just for your very own amusement. you wouldn't call him a dog--a proper dog respects authority, acts loyal and good and cowers when they have done something wrong.
simon doesn't always listen to you, not really, you don't think he really listens to anyone. but everything he does, he does knowing it is what's best for you. he takes care of you, especially when you're too cock-dumb to make any right-minded decision. he's the center of gravity, and you are his, bringing each other back into balance when you get knocked off kilter. sometimes, this balance requires a sacrifice.
simon is all too willing to give one.
you don't blame him for that. the wiring in his head, it's a little fried, a little frayed. it isn't his fault. he's seen torture. been through it. watched comrades die, tasted his own blood and that of someone else's. he's seen the insides of someone, watched it protrude from the holes in their bodies, sometimes from his own hand. he's just a little rough around the edges, just a little scarred.
no one likes to talk about the fact that servicemen like simon are glorified serial killers. you understand this fact, and you know that if you explained it to simon, he would probably agree with you. but instead of acknowledging the reality of it, you think he might smile. he is given permission by his country, by his king, to kill under the guise of international security, for the common good.
what would we not do to protect our homeland from terrorism and warfare? what necks would we not snap? what blood would we not shed? what would we not do to protect the places where our wives lay their heads and our children play their games?
that is how he would justify it to you. he'd tell you not to worry, that heaven is an idea made up by weak men who don't have the strength to do something about their foe.
you would believe him, if he said that to you. you would smile back at him, kiss him soft, and let him fuck a baby into you just to shut you up.
but this wouldn't change a thing. it wouldn't change what he is. it wouldn't make him any less a murderer, any less a man that takes what he wants. he has a heavy hand, not just in combat, but with you. he does not ask permission, but it wouldn't matter; fortunately, you have the same disgusting urge inside of you, and you practically beg him to take from you.
although, there is one thing that separates you from him. you might carry the disease--the one that makes you indifferent to his violence, his past, his trauma, his crimes. but you don't carry the execution of it. you've never killed anyone. you've never held a gun. sometimes, when someone parks a little too close to your car, you think about what it would be like to put their head behind your tire and reverse over it, but nothing you ever do leaves the horror of your mind.
you are positively boring in that sense. lieutenant simon riley's picture-perfect good girl, his lovely wife. the one that lets him voice his horrendous crimes and sleeps just as peacefully as before because of it. no one would ever know that he's murmured in great detail about how he tortured his latest target, telling you about how he screamed quite loudly when he picked his fingernails off but was rather quiet when he carved tally marks into his forearm.
"was he, baby?" you whisper, sucking soft on the stubble around his jaw. he palms your ass gently, satisfied when he feels the way his cum drips between your folds and wets his hand. he nods, shrugging.
"fuckin' muppet. deserved wot he got."
"i know he did," you agree, nodding, reaching down and starting to pump his length, still wet from your cunt. you mewl when he starts to harden immediately, the blood rushing to his cock as you fondle his balls. "now tell me how much you missed me again..."
it isn't your fault that he gets you this wet just by talking about his aggression. it can't be. it's primal...instinct. ghost is a protector, and you are his wife--you like thinking about what he might do just to keep you safe.
you like thinking about what he might do just to keep you happy.
but you're not happy. he's gone for three weeks this time, a long stretch that leaves you a little lonely and a little on edge. you send him your letters, writing every day about how quiet it is at home, about how alone you feel and how much you miss the space he takes up in your bed. you even miss the amount of food he consumes--you're so used to cooking enough to feed four proper people just for him to scarf it all down and eat your cunt to tell you how grateful he is.
you haven't really been on base since you married; you spent a few weeks there right afterwards, in and out of his bed, practically attached to simon by the hip. it's been a long while since then. he bought you a little flat in london and gave you a nice sleek credit card, and that was that. simon doesn't care for you to spend much time on base. he thinks you too pretty and complains under his breath that you're a distraction, which you are. you're always so caught up with how hot he looks working that you end up underneath him more often than not; simon prefers you at home so he doesn't lose all his fucking energy trying to keep up with you.
you roll down your window, flashing your license at the officer there. he clicks a flashlight on, looking at it, and he swallows hard when he sees the last time there.
riley.
"afternoon, ma'am," he tells you with a nervous smile. "your husband, looks like he isn't here, he's--"
"i know where he is," you interrupt. "but he'll be back soon. just some housekeeping i need to do." you tilt your head to the side. "i don't have to call the lieutenant and tell him you're refusing me, do i?"
"n-no, ma'am."
you slam the door shut after you park, eyeing the motorcycle a few parking spots away. you sigh, clenching your jaw, before swinging your purse over your shoulder and straightening out the front of your jeans. you told him not to ride that fucking thing, the big dummy.
you pass through the offices first, and when you get nearer to where captain price and your husband sit, you stop in your tracks when you see a new little desk set up there.
there's a woman sitting there.
she's got a corded phone held between her ear and her shoulder, and she's writing on a sticky note rapidly, nodding her head as she talks to someone quietly. you tilt your head to the side, watching her, and your lip twitches just enough when she hangs up the phone and stands to put a few files away in a cabinet.
she's wearing a tiny little skirt and stockings, and you run your tongue over your teeth when you get a glimpse at the garter belt she's wearing underneath. you follow the line of her long legs to her kitten heels, and then back up to the blouse and blazer she wears. she turns around, adjusting her sleeves, and you straighten your back when you can see the lace of her black bra underneath the white blouse.
cause who the fuck wears a black bra under white at work?
you adjust your purse over your shoulder and make your way down the hallway, ignoring her as you stop in front of simon's office and look for the key on your key ring.
"oh! excuse me--excuse me!"
you stop looking for the key, turning over your shoulder. the woman is getting up from her seat, hurrying over. she's a tiny little thing, bouncing over to you with an exacerbated face.
"hey--excuse me," she puts a hand on the door. "you can't go in there."
you raise a brow.
"oh, really? why's that?" you ask. she looks you up and down a little, her smile fading a little.
"well...lieutenant riley doesn't like it when people are in his private space. and there's classified material in there, so i'll need to verify if you have the right security clearance."
she twirls a soft curl around one of her fingers, and you flash her an irritated smile.
"oh, well, i'm sure he won't mind if i go inside," you tell her, turning back. you finally find the right key, fitting it into the lock.
"hey--hey! you can't go in there! i'm serious, i'll call security," she huffs. you laugh, turning to face her as you push the door open.
"oh, go ahead," you murmur, stepping closer. you're about the same height, but her eyes are no match for your own. she's alive inside, and you are not. there are places that you can go that she would never come back from, and she flinches a little when she meets your eyes intensely. "in fact, i dare you to call security."
you drop your purse on simon's desk, rounding it and taking a seat in his chair. you open one of the drawers, rummaging through it, and you roll your eyes a little when you find a pack of cigarettes that simon had said he'd thrown out. strike two already.
lying bastard.
you're still rifling through the drawer when the office door bursts open. you recognize one of simon's sergeants, kyle, huffing his chest as he looks around the room with a glare. the woman is behind him, her arms crossed over her chest and making her breasts comically pushed up towards her chin, her eyes narrowed at you. when kyle sees you, he immediately snatches his cap off his head and takes a step back. his posture changes, his back straightening up as he assumes a near soldier-stance.
"fuck, sorry, ma'am," he murmurs. "i didn't mean to barge in that way, i--"
"it's alright, kyle," you say softly, smiling a little. "something i can help you with? simon isn't here right now."
the woman steps back, confusion on her face, and she hides doorway now, out of your sight.
"no," kyle gives you a polite, nervous smile. "apologies again."
you shake your head and shrug, standing up to go close the door. you poke your head out, and she's sitting at her desk again, her expression a little wobbly as she looks up at kyle and uses her hands as she speaks, looking utterly mortified.
"--how was i supposed to know that? she didn't introduce herself--"
"look, you just better hope she doesn't tell him about this. fuckin' kiss her arse or somethin', for fuck's sake," kyle mutters, shaking his head, and you smile to yourself as you close the door completely.
it's a few hours later, while you're smoothing a hand over a report simon has written, when the door opens. you look up from the desk, smiling immediately.
there he is.
simon cocks his head to the side, and you eye the flex of his fists in his gloves. he clicks his tongue, pushing his hood off, and you giggle when he narrows his eyes at you. he's being playful, and you stand, rounding the desk as you hurry towards him.
"well wot's this 'ere?" he chuckles, and you squeal when you jump up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing kisses to his masked mouth, over and over again. he catches you easily.
"simon--" you thumb at his cheeks, letting out a shaky breath, and you laugh when he fists both sides of your ass, squeezing your arse in the nice denim jeans you're wearing. he hums lowly, nosing at your jaw.
"wot are y'doin' 'ere?" he murmurs, reaching up to cradle the back of your head gently with one hand. you kiss him again, feeling how warm his breath is through the mask. you close your eyes, sniffling a little.
"missed you," you whisper, massaging the nape of his neck and pressing your face into the chest of his tact vest. simon rubs at your scalp gently, soothing you.
"y'know i don't like when y'r 'ere," he mutters, and you squeeze him tighter.
"i know," you sigh. "i know...i know, i just...i-i..." you pull back to look up at him. "i-i know, i just...i--"
"'s olright," he quiets you. "not mad." he presses his mouth to your forehead, kissing it gently, and you close your eyes again. "fancy a cuppa while i debrief, swee'eart?"
"...better hope she doesn't tell him about this..."
you lean up on your toes to get closer to him, fitting your thumbs under his mask and pushing it up so you can get a good kiss. he smirks before your lips meet his, and you sigh with relief when he slips his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you'd tell him off for it, but instead you keen when he squeezes the back of your neck, and you open your mouth wider for him. he takes full advantage, sliding his tongue over yours before sucking on it briefly. his hand palms at the plush space between your thighs, but he knows better than to touch you right away since he's still at work. if he goes any further, he'll have some explaining to do about his punctuality.
"i love you," you whisper when he pulls away. he kisses you again, just beside your mouth, and then he grins wide.
"sit, luvvie," he mutters, nodding to his desk. "won't be long."
it doesn't bother you that he never says it back. he does love you, in his own way. he never says it, but you know it's true.
you know it.
he takes your hand, guiding you over to his desk, not letting go of you until you're sitting. he winks, catching a few fingers under your chin before making his way out. you sigh, watching him from behind, your eyes raking over his broad shoulders to his waist, the thickness of his thighs and his incredible ass. you're no better than a man in that sense, but it's your husband, and you'll ogle him all you like.
it's your privilege. and your right.
but then you catch someone else's gaze, looking at the same thing. it's her--and she's got her eyes on your man.
you suck in a breath, sinking into simon's chair, and you meet her eyes once simon is gone. you smile at her, knowingly, and she swallows hard visibly, clutching the papers she's holding to her chest and making her way to the door.
"i am...so sorry about earlier," she says timidly. "i-i...had no idea that...i didn't know--"
"it's fine," you say, your voice monotone and unyielding. "glad to know this country's secrets are kept...under great care." you stand, and she comes in, holding out her hand.
"i'll get that cuppa for you, mrs. riley, no need," she laughs nervously.
"oh, so you were eavesdropping?" you ask, and she sputters.
"oh...god, n-no, i--"
"i'm just kidding," you smile again, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "tea would be nice."
she scurries off after that, and you follow her to the door, laughing to yourself as she hurries off towards the break room. you notice the cart she was sitting next to. it's stopped at her desk, and you peek over, seeing that it's the mail. she's got the envelopes on her desk, and it looks as if she was just organizing it all to hand out.
but there's a drawer open at her desk, and your eyes narrow when you see your handwriting on the envelope stashed there.
you round the desk, grabbing the stack that you see, and you let out a shaky breath when you realize these are your letters. the ones that you write to simon, all of them, bound neatly with a rubber band. your lip trembles a little, and you hold them to your chest, blinking back angry tears as you slowly make your way back to simon's office. you shut the door, dropping the stack of letters onto simon's desk, and you think.
she's very pretty. not taller than you, but she's more...conventionally attractive. she doesn't have your plush hips, your soft tummy, but that doesn't make her a villain--but you're just aware of what she looks like, what you look like.
you've never been too insecure, especially not since marrying simon. he never fails to chub up as soon as he sees you; he's hungry whenever he sets his eyes on you, and you know he likes grabbing the extra fat around your hips and holding you. he's so gross about it, but you love it. you love the way he loves you.
but is that what he imagined when he was married? did he imagine a woman with a little more? did he imagine a woman not like you, but a little smaller, a little tinier, easier to carry?
but he can carry you. on more than one occasion, he's thrown you over his shoulder, lifted you onto a surface he then fucked you on, flipped you and manhandled you into various positions he wanted to try. he loves having you on top, loves picking you up from your hips and fucking up into you. he never strains, just grunts from the pleasure and smacks your ass. he's never given you any reason to believe you aren't the most beautiful woman, his prettiest girl, so why are you thinking this way?
no. it isn't you. it's her. it's all her fault; there is nothing wrong with you. a man like simon needs a woman like you--someone not so fragile, someone that has more.
she is without. and you are not.
the insecurity wanes. it turns into something else. not jealousy. it's anger. something hungry.
you fucking hate her.
simon comes in a few minutes later, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a manila folder in the other. he shuts the door with his boot, setting down the mug and folder before leaning over and giving your cheek a little kiss through the mask.
the way he greets you, the light touch he has on you, reminds you of what you are to him. no one else in the entire world is privy to this kind of affection. to simon's affection. it's yours, and yours alone, and if you just open your mouth and tell him what you want, you know that he will give it to you.
she is without. and you are not.
"was thinkin'--" simon stops short when he looks at your face, frowning. the recognition of something amiss is almost instant. "wot's wrong?"
you look up, meeting his eyes, and you think again.
you could say nothing. you could wipe your tears, tell him that you're just lonely and needy, and make him bend you over his desk to get the thoughts out of you. you aren't the violent kind. you're not confrontational. you have already established that you aren't the kind to lash out, to show your teeth. you have the nasty tick, but you aren't the kind to let it fester.
you blink, and simon snarls. you waited too long, and now he knows there is something else on your mind.
"oi," he snaps. "'m tolkin' t'ya."
"s-simon," you whisper, and he reaches over to grip you by the throat. he doesn't choke you, but he holds you firm, dragging you closer to him. "s-simon--"
but it's too late for her, because you're angry. the sickness has already spread.
you stand, forced to walk around the desk, coming closer. he's not happy; there's something bothering his wife, and that isn't allowed. his wife is not supposed to be upset or sad, she isn't supposed to cry unless it's tears of joy, unless her eyes are stinging and wet from how nice his cock feels. a lieutenant's wife is pampered, spoiled, nothing but pleasure and soft sheets and full tummies. it's unacceptable. it's awful, it's terrible, it's not right, and he needs to fix it.
"wot is it?"
"...better hope she doesn't tell him about this..."
"the letters--" you sniffle, leaning up on your toes, pressing your face against his. "the letters i sent you, t-the ones...you said you never got--"
"i know, luvvie," he murmurs. fuck, he can be kind when he wants to be, when it's for you. "i know, 'm sorry, 'm gonna sort it out for ya--"
"i-i found them," you interrupt, looking away. he follows your gaze to where they sit on his desk. he reaches over and picks up the neat stack, and he flips through them with a huff. he's confused, noting the dates you've written on them. it isn't even all the letter's you've sent, just a stack of the most recent ones.
"i don't--"
"they were in...they were in her desk," you hiccup. "she...she's keeping them from you, she wasn't--" you rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes, and he cradles the back of your head with a big hand. "she doesn't like me."
it's quiet for a long while. simon strokes the back of your neck, easing you into his chest. his touch is light, unbothered, but he's eerily silent as the moments pass. the rise and fall of his heavy breaths lull you, calm you, but then he wraps his fingers into your hair, gripping the strands tight. you swallow a bit from the force of his hand. the gravity of what he might feel, what it might mean, the switch you've flipped.
the thing you've unleashed.
it is the first time that you realize what simon can be for you. it is the first time that you think that it's very possible for you to use simon, to whisper soft in his ear and lick the flames of his need to bite back, his need to strike.
even if what you say is a lie, he'll believe you. maybe he'll even know it is a lie, and he'll convince himself it isn't one just to make things right again. love is blinding, and it is also forgiving. he can deal with the lie later, but not with your dissatisfaction.
"doesn't matter about how she feels about ya, y'r m'wife," he murmurs in your ear. his tone has lowered, something that makes you think this might be how he speaks to his men, the privates he can't stand and the ones that have trouble following orders. "fuckin' disrespectful--" he hisses, tipping your head back with a tug on your hair. he looks into your eyes, wild, cunning, angry. "'m gonna take care of this, swee'eart. y'hear me?"
oh, yeah. that's what you want to hear, that's what you need to hear. you flutter your lashes, mouthing at his jaw.
"i don't...i don't mean to make a fuss, simon, i--" but i do, i want it--
"oi," simon picks you up from under your thighs, dropping you onto his desk. he steps between your knees, pushing his mask up, and you mewl when he licks the tears off your face, kissing you with an open mouth. "y'listen to me..." he sucks on your bottom lip, bringing his mouth back to yours. "won't accept anyone treatin' m'wife this way. disrespectin' you is disrespectin' me. won't 'ave tha'. so look me 'n the eyes 'n tell me ya understand."
you sniffle, nodding, smoothing your hands down his forearms. he narrows his eyes, and you try not to look away from him. it isn't up for discussion. even if you ask him not to make a fuss, he won't roll over on this. there is a certain decorum simon expects anyone that reports to him to have, and if they don't grant it, he doesn't take to it lightly--not from his men, and not from pretty secretaries that didn't do their homework.
"i-i understand," you whisper, and you sputter a little when you stop yourself from saying anymore. he knocks your chin back up, keeping your eyes, and you continue with a wobble in your voice. "she...she tried to kick me out earlier, too." he tilts his head to the side, and you know not to keep a secret anymore. "when i...when i was opening your office, she...s-she didn't recognize me and...she tried to get kyle to make me leave."
he laughs a little, but there's nothing funny about it.
"'n wot did he do?"
"he said he was sorry."
"good. now lie back, swee'eart. 'm hungry, 'n my wife deserves to get her cunt eaten for being such a good girl."
you smile a little, wiping your face with the back of your hand, and he grins back at you. you giggle as he unbuttons your jeans, pulling down the zipper, and you laugh a little more when he picks you up and yanks them off your legs. he puts a hand on your chest and pushes you to lie flat, tossing your legs over his shoulders and sighing.
"missed y'r lil' pussy so much," he murmurs. "m'favorite place ta be."
just like that, the anger is gone. dissolved, sugar in warm water.
you giggle, rubbing a hand over the head of his mask. you arch your back as he mouths over the fabric of your panties, hooking a finger over it and pulling it aside to slurp at your wet folds. you let out a shaky breath, tugging on his mask a little.
"i missed you, too, simon," you whisper. "i-it's too quiet without you."
"i know, baby," he suckles at your clit, coaxing a moan out of you, and he chuckles. "mmm...want ya to cum in my mouth, luv."
you whimper, "i will, simon. anything for you."
"fuckin' hell," he hisses, "don't say shit like tha', makes me fuckin' hard."
"whatever you want, baby," you whisper, and he pushes his tongue into your little hole as punishment, making you squeal and giggle with delight. he smirks from between your thighs, dragging you just that much closer before he starts to bob his head and fuck you with his tongue. you grind against his mouth, locking your ankles behind his back and staring at the ceiling as you ride his face for your pleasure. he's so good, he's so hot, everything you want and more. he loves you, so much, and he will do anything for you.
anything.
"are you going t-to teach her a lesson?" you babble, panting, and simon hums.
"yeah, swee'eart."
"how?"
"hmm..." he smiles wide as he kisses your clit. "how do ya want me to?"
"want her gone, simon," you gasp, forcing his mouth back into your pussy, slick coating his chin. he follows your direction, smoothing his hands up your stomach, thumbing at your perky tits.
"mmm..." he's so pussy-drunk, his tongue flattening between your folds and teasing you warmly. you're so wet, slick coating your folds, and he''s starting get messy, his face glistening as he concentrates on the only task that matters. "woteva y'want, luv."
"r-really?"
"i asked ya to cum in my fuckin' mouth, and y'r about to," simon snaps. "when i say it's done, it's done. when my wife asks for somethin', she gets it, do you fuckin' understand me?"
"yes! yes--" you hiccup. you're so stupid. so dumb to think that simon would refuse a request that you make. pretty, dumb girl to think that whatever you say isn't his gospel.
you want her gone. you do. and you want simon to do it for you. you want him to stuff his fingers into your cunt with one hand and hold her at the wrong end of his gun with the other--
there's something wrong with you, right? right?
"why are y'still thinkin'?" simon growls, leaning up and over you until he can kiss you nasty. his face is soaked, and you moan when he slides his tongue over yours, practically spitting in your mouth as he slips two fingers into you with ease. "my wife isn't supposed ta think."
you let out a shaky breath, nodding, cupping his cheeks and kissing him back.
"yes--o-okay, 'm sorry--"
"stop thinkin'. nothin' ta think about when y'r mine."
and he's right. you always use your brain too much, you always end up thinking when you should just be listening, responding, letting him move your body this way and that way.
simon is always right. always.
you kiss him again, soft and shaky breaths. you reach down with one hand and wrap your fingers around his wrist, sighing as you guide his fingers until he's pressing on that little spot that makes your toes curl.
"ahhh...right there, yeah?" he smirks, and you nod, your fingers touching his lips.
"not enough," you whisper, and he tsks, shaking his head.
"never is," he mutters. "my mouth or my cock, baby?"
you giggle, and he kisses you, swallowing your laughter. you breathe into the kiss as you reach down and start to undo the button of his cargos and unzip him, palming at his bulge and squeezing it lovingly.
"not even a question," you purr between kisses, and he chuckles, deep and heavy, shoving down his pants just enough to pull himself out. you arch your back just at the sight, knowing how big he'll feel and how much he'll stretch you out. it's such a familiar feeling that you adore chasing, and you love the way your brain muddles whenever he sinks deep. your toes curl just thinking about how deep he'll get today with how wet you are. not that you aren't wet always when simon is around, but there's just something so sexy about your husband wearing all his gear and promising to rid the earth of vermin just for your contentment.
"'s alright, mama, i know 'ow much ya like bein' full o' me..." simon smooths a finger over your clit, licking his lips when he sees you clench around nothing. he slaps his tip there, watching you squirm, and he growls a little when you spread your fingers in a V and show off to him how wet you are.
"stop teasing and make me a real mama," you giggle, and simon tilts his head to the side, leaning over you.
"is tha' a challenge, m'dear wife?"
you meet his eyes, lovely and lingering, and you shake your head.
"no," you whisper, because fucking isn't a challenge, not for him. "a-a request."
he smiles, so wide, and you reach down and grip his forearms tight when he slips into you. you're dripping, a soft squelch sounding as his hips meet your thighs, and you cup his face as he settles his weight over you.
"y-you've never looked at her...have you?" you ask into his ear.
"at who, baby?"
"her," you whine. "you know w-who i'm talking about, don't play stupid, simon--"
"shh--" he clamps a hand over your mouth, hissing a little. he shakes his head, annoyed, and he shifts inside of you until he's hitting your cervix and making you cry into his palm. "'m a right bastard, baby, but tha', i'd never do." he chuckles. "got a tight arse, tha' one, but she's not you. she's not my girl."
tears prick your eyes. you're not sure if it's from the hint of jealousy that sears through your chest or the way you clench around him, but it's all too much suddenly.
he leans forward, sliding his hand off, gripping you by the throat now as he kisses you wet and hazy.
"'s y'r face i think about when 'm gone," he murmurs. "y'r cunt tha' gets me fuckin' hard. y'r fat tits that make me drool, swee'eart, ain't no one else 'n the world tha' makes me feel the way y'do, yeah?"
you hold onto him, digging your nails into his back, and he forces your eyes on his as he smiles again.
"ask the boys," simon hums. "ask 'em wot it sounds like when 'm wankin' off at night, ask 'em whose name 'm sayin'--"
"you think about me?" you whimper, and he laughs, cruel, biting his lip as he drags his cock out and then punches it back in, enjoying the way you cry, the look of your slick seeping out onto the desk and wetting his reports.
"got a nasty lil' photo 'f ya," simon smirks. "keep it right here--" he pats the spot over his heart, and your mouth opens when he squeezes your throat just a little tighter. "can finish in fuckin' seconds, baby."
"y-yeah?"
"boys like t'borrow it sometimes," he murmurs, slipping a hand down and pressing down on your lower stomach before giving you a nice roll of his lips. you squeal a little, his palm meeting the tip of his cock, and he chuckles. "ya just look so pretty, luv. johnny fancies y'r cunt, the good lad, but i think price is a fan of that fat arse--"
"s-simon--"
"gaz is such a sap--" he grits his teeth, gripping your hips with both hands, starting to give it to you a little faster, a little harder. the desk rattles a little under the force of him. "says your mouth is divine, but fuck, who can look at anythin' else when y'r cunt is out, aye?"
"t-they like me?"
simon grins, eyes bright and a little crazy. "course they do, luvvie," he runs his tongue over his teeth, tilting his head to the side as he looks down at you. "y'r a bloody sight for sore eyes. 'f ya think these boys want her, y'r mistaken--" you bite your bottom lip. you should be disgusted. you should be upset that your husband touches himself to your picture and lets his men peek over his shoulder, but you're not. you smile, eyes sparkling, and you widen your thighs to try and take him deeper. "--want you, swee'eart. want wot's mine, but they'll never 'ave it. never 'ave wot belongs ta me. can look, but they can't fuckin' touch, cos it's mine."
you moan, dragging your nails down his forearms, and he curses under his breath as he picks up the pace again. he's starving--it's been weeks without you, weeks fucking his fist to the same picture of you that barely does you any justice. he drools at night, practically choking on his spit as he thinks about you in every position, how easily he can bend you and fold you, how wet you get whenever he talks into your ear about the blood, the murder, the terrible things that stain his hands.
he knows what it does to you, when he confides in you. the truth of it all, the truth of what he really is, it makes you weak. it rattles you down to your bones, it makes your eyes roll back into your head, makes your legs squeeze together and your pretty pussy flutter. he thinks maybe you like knowing that simon is dangerous, but he'd never put a hand on you. or maybe you like just knowing that he can--that he's capable of terrible, awful things, and he chooses to come home to you.
every single time.
it's a vice. you're the vice, more than cigarettes, more than the thrill of getting onto his bike, more than the adrenaline he chases when he's outnumbered twenty to one with nothing but his throwing knives.
there's a thread between you. there's a line that connects him to you, something that has always been there, pulled taut as soon as he put that ring on your finger and gave you his name. it's the thing that always makes it hard to breathe when you're around him. it's what makes it impossible to look into his eyes and not see yourself looking right back at you. it's the terrible realization that your husband is black and blue on the inside--
and so am i.
this kind of love is different. it's not fleeting, it's not gentle. it's canine teeth tearing into skin. it's claws in something soft, ripping it apart. it's the joy in doing what isn't right, the benefit of yourself in favor of the benefit of all.
simon would burn the world for you. even if it meant you were all that was left--even if it meant that everyone in it burned, too.
the world should be grateful that simon is only taking one fucking secretary instead of them all.
when simon lifts your hips just that much, your head spins. he always fucks so good, but you're spiraling into a headspace that's making it hard to focus your eyes. you're arching your back to get closer to him, but you're at his mercy, his hands pressing on your thighs just that much to get you just a little more open, just that much more spread out, and you cry when he leans over you, the hair surrounding his cock rubbing against your clit just enough.
"ahhh--fuck, y'r so fuckin' tight, baby--" simon groans, shaking his head. "y'r gonna cum--can feel it, yeah--" he leans his head back. "y'know the rules, luvvie, know the fuckin' rules--"
you have to cum before him, he won't let you have it if you don't cum first--you're so close!
"let 'er hear ya," simon chuckles, all mean, all bite. "let 'er hear 'ow good y'r husband gives it t'ya, how well a riley takes it, let 'er hear--"
fuck, it hits you fast. you're seeing spots, floating for just long enough until you feel him fuck his cum back into you. he barely stops, quickening his pace to finish just to make it that much messier. you think he likes dirtying his desk, making it reek of sweat and musk and heat so he can bask in it later. or maybe he just wants to get back between your thighs, his favorite place in the world, the only quiet from the voices that taunt him in his head.
when he pulls out, he makes you eat it off his fingers. he pulls his gloves off, stuffs his fingers into you, and then puts them back between your lips. he hums as he stares down at you, lapping between his knuckles, and he leans down to murmur in your ear.
"gonna sort this out, luv. promise ya tha'."
he doesn't see acceptance in your eyes when he tells you this. he didn't expect to see that. there is no need to accept the things that you already know, what you already understand. simon doesn't speak in metaphors. he's not interested in riddles, and he doesn't like reading between the lines.
he sees the thrill. he sees your excitement, the joy, the warm rush of approval that washes over you, and he smiles when you lean in to kiss him, all soft, all tender, whispers of affection that make his cock hard all over again.
you want to pity the girl waiting outside. she would've lived longer if she had just shut her fucking mouth.
#UHMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM yeah#i did that#so what#noooo don't do it ;)#that's terrible........#oops my knife slipped#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon thoughts#dark!ghost#dark!simon
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
“Hey Katsuki”, you scream from the your bedroom.
“What” he yells back at you from somewhere else in the house.
“Where ya at?”
“In the game room.”
So you get up and head that way. When you enter he’s sat in his gaming chair with his headset on.
“Hey bub…. Hey guys” you say loud enough to be heard through his headset.
“Yea yea. They all said hey.” You knew Kirishima and Kaminari were on the other end. Maybe even Mina too cuz she wasn’t texting you back.
“Kit-Kat, I’m getting hungry. Do you know what sounds really good for dinner?”
“What?” he questions without taking his eyes off the screen.
You walk behind him and slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the back of his head. You’re trying to butter him up because you know he’s not gonna wanna make what you’re craving.
“You remember those dumplings you made from scratch a while ago?” You ask with your voice dripping in as much sweetness you can muster.
“No.”
“No you don’t remember or no you’re-“
And he interrupt you before you can even finish. “No im not cooking that. There are frozen dumplings in the fridge.”
“But Sukiiiiii, those aren’t as good as the ones you make. The flavors aren’t the same and yours are so crispy and doughy. Pleaaasseee.”
“Hey you assholes shut the hell up. No ones talking to you.” He responds to his friends in the headset. “You want her to have ‘em, bring your ass over and make ‘em”
“I’m not doing this. You idiots hold on.” And he pauses the game and turns around to face you and removes his head set.
“Look we can order takeout if you want, but I’m not about to make freakin dumplings from scratch cuz you have a craving. I’d have to go to the store and get ingredients and taking the time to make the wrappings. ‘S too much.” He tries to explain to you in a rational way .
“I knooowww…. I’d go to the store with you though and I’ll help you make them…. Pretty please” you whine and stick you lowere lip out just a little with your eyes as pleading as you can make them.
Katsuki rolls his eyes and throws his head back.
“You don’t get whatever you want just because you pout at me. Spoiled ass. Not today. Maybe sometime later this week.”
You didn’t actually think he’d tell you no. He usually never does. Maybe you are spoiled. Still makes you sad though.
So you put on your big girl pants, tuck your lip back in and give him a soft “ok” before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips so he knows you’re not upset with him.
He is allowed to say no.
“Is Mina on the game with you guys?” You ask him when you pull back.
“Yeah she is.”
“When you get back on can you tell her to stop being a bitch and answer my phone call. I have tea to spill.”
“I’ll tell her.”
And with that you head toward the door and leave.
Once you’re back in your room it takes Mina about 3 minutes to call you and you start catching her up on everything.
You guys stay on the phone for about 30 minutes before she has to go.
After that, you bury yourself in the blankets and start reading the manga you had lying on your nightstand.
Before you can really get into it, Katsuki is walking into your room and going into the closet.
“Get your ass outta bed and get dressed before I change my goddamn mind.”
“What?” You ask because now you’re confused.
“You said you were gonna go to the store with me to buy all this shit so get your ass up and let’s go.”
“Kats you don’t have to, it’s fine.”
“Look ya spoiled brat, if I gotta tell you to get up one more time we are gonna be in here fightin.”
And the smile that breaks out on your face. You hurry and get outta bed and rush him. “Awwwww my sweet boy”
“I swear to god, I’m this close to letting your ass starve.”
And you wrap your arms around him and start kissing everywhere on his face. When you pulled away he has a deep frown on his face but you can see the sparkle in his eyes that he gets when you’re super happy.
You pull away and scurry off to get dressed.
He really needs to start saying no to you and meaning it before you really lose the understanding of the word.
Katsuki Masterlist
Tags: @dreamcastgirl99
*if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know💕
#tootietalks#imagine#bakugou x reader#mha fanfiction#bakugou drabble#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#drabble#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugo headcanons#fluff#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha katsuki#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo#katsukibakugou#katsuki bakugou#katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo#bnha bakugou#bakugou#mha bakugou
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
hidden corners — ft. wriothesley
before you read: female reader ; mature content 18+ ; established relationship ; public sex (except it’s not really sex and you don’t get caught) ; dry humping ; wriothesley cums in his pants <3 ; not proof read
The fortress is a big place. Walking to Wriothesley’s office means you get your step count up—but it also means it takes a good few minutes to get there at all.
You’re patient enough to wait. He, on the other hand, sometimes is not.
“Wrio?” Your head tilts to the side. You’re more than a little surprised to see his serious face as he quickly approaches you while you walk towards his office. You grin, teasing glint in your eyes as you hum, “what? You couldn’t wait to see me—oh!”
He’s dragging you by the hand, pulling you along as he turns corners and walks in the very opposite direction of his office with you following in tow (against your will).
“Where are we going?” You ask, blinking. “Your office isn’t this way.”
“There’s an emergency,” he says quickly. Too quickly. You take a good look at him for a moment before you realize something’s off—his coat. It’s not draped over his back like it usually is, instead worn properly over his upper half and buttoned up completely.
Your eyes narrow in confusion. “You’re wearing your coat?”
“Got cold.”
“But the heating has been on for—”
“Heat’s not working in my office.”
“Why don’t you—”
He lets out a shuddering breath, shaky and almost impatient enough that you simply shut your mouth before stressing him out further. He seems to appreciate it, too, because he doesn’t make anymore extra comments—just makes one last turn, pressing you against a hidden corner behind a wall of pipes and caging you with your back against a cold, hard surface.
“Couldn’t wait,” he breathes. “You were taking too long so I met you halfway”
“What do you mean? Wait for wha—” The buttons of his coat come undone quickly enough that you cut yourself off in shock, watching as he flings off the thick, furry material and lets it drop to the floor. “Wriothesley! The floor is dirty and you drape that thing over me all the time, are you insane—oh.”
Oh.
Your eyes land on the clear reason why he’s been so tensely impatient: a heavy, thick bulge in his pants that’s been covered up until now by the mid-length coat that draped over his torso. He lets out a shaky breath, stepping closer as he presses his face deep into your neck and breathes in your scent.
It seems to only make things worse because he lets out a strangled groan and says hoarsely, “I’ll fucking wash it. Now’s not the time.”
“Wriothesley, we’re in the middle of the—”
It seems today is very keen on forcing all of your sentences to cut off halfway because once again, you can’t finish what you want to say. Not before he grunts and presses his heavy, throbbing erection against your clothed cunt and murmurs, “no, we’re in a hidden corner.”
“We’re right by pipes! Have you never heard the way they carry sound?”
“These don’t lead anywhere important.”
“This is absurd,” you say sternly. He rolls his hips stubbornly, grinding the thick girth of his cock against your heat, separated by fabric but brought together by friction.
“Need you, sweetheart,” he moans lowly, “need you so bad I’m tired of waiting. Please.”
You’re nothing if not a doting girlfriend. A very pliant one, at that—so soft and willing to give into Wriothesley and his whims even when they might land you in compromising positions. (How could you say no when he’s pressed up against you like that, though? How could your mind and body respond with anything except yes when he all but molds his body onto yours and drags himself desperately against your own core? Self control was never an easy task in the first place.)
“A little decorum once in a while would be nice, you know,” you huff—still, your arms go right around his neck like they always do, letting his chest firmly press against yours.
He chuckles, low vibrations that you can feel tickle your ribcage as his nose digs into the skin along the crook of your neck. “I told you,” he murmurs, lips tugging into a crooked, wolfish grin, “we’re hidden. And I’m the duke. I know what goes on in this here fortress—no one will find us.”
Smug is one way to describe him—needy is probably better. Far better. Because the way his hips roll to drag his thick, heavy cock along your cunt is far too impatient to be considered anything else but pure need.
You shudder, head leaning back against the wall as a soft, breathy moan spills from your lips at the way his bulge drags along your clit, the pressure from his cock and the friction of your clothes building a steady ache along your core. You can feel the heat of his confined length, the way it twitches in his pants, the way it leaks with pre cum and dampens his fabric enough to match the wet fabric that clothes your cunt.
“Wr-wrio…” you breathe, voice tapering off into a soft, high pitched whine as he roughly glides against your clit particularly harshly. Your hands search for the familiar fur draped on his shoulders to grip onto—only it’s not there.
It’s on the floor along with the rest of his jacket.
He chuckles roughly, voice low and gruff and a tiny bit labored from the air that doesn’t seem to be in his lungs. His hands reach for your wrists, grabbing them gently before guiding them up to his hair, letting them tangle into the strands as he mumbles lowly, “go ahead and pull, sweetheart. I can take it, yeah?”
Large, scarred hands find your waist, fingers digging into plush skin as he pulls your hips forward, rubbing you along his length while he lets out a raw, throaty groan.
“Fuck,” he hisses, “f-fuck, I just couldn’t wait. Couldn’t…couldn’t wait—you understand, right sweetheart? D-don’t be mad.”
He’s babbling. Voice wavering and sweat clinging to his forehead as he hides into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, where he can breathe in the scent of your perfume and feel his cock swell impossibly harder at the sweetness of your perfume. It’s driving him mad. Borderline throwing him into insanity’s clutches from just the sensation of grinding against you.
It’s nothing like being buried to the hilt inside of you. The wet, warm, tight walls that welcome him in every time, the gummy, soft feel of you wrapping around him and constructing with every thrust. He’d like to spill into you, fuck load after load after load until his mess leaks down your thighs and coats your skin with one more layer of proof that your his.
But he’s not particularly patient enough for that. Not willing to wait until he knows you’re stretched out and dripping enough with slick to take the thick girth of him splitting you open—so instead, he takes this. The feeling of you taking over his senses. The feeling of your heat seeping into his body. The smell of your perfume and sweat invading his nose. The rough, unforgiving sting of your fingers tugging at his hair.
He’s pathetically wrapped around your finger tightly enough that even when he craves for more, anything you give is still enough. Maybe he’s not feeling you, but the feeling of you near him is enough to still satisfy that raging, unforgiving ache that settles between his thighs and goes nowhere. Nowhere.
He’s tried—for long enough before your arrival, he’s tried to ignore the way he grows in his pants. Tightening and straining against crisp fabric that’s not meant to stretch and accommodate his cruel problem. It makes his hands tremble as he signs documents. Makes his mind and thoughts race to memories of you—memories on your face, your voice, your ecstasy.
And he can’t wait.
So he finds you half way along the path to his office, dragging you to a hidden corner where the pipes cover your bodies and the walls muffle your sounds.
Wriothesley is the duke. The fortress is his playground. Whatever he says goes—and if he restricts access to the back east wing before he leaves his office…well, he’s confident no one will come. Not because he doesn’t want anyone to catch him seeking relief in the arms of the only person he can call home, but because anyone seeing, hearing, witnessing the way you break from him alone is sinful.
This meant for him. For his eyes. For his ears. For his cock. You’re meant for him.
“I’m close, baby,” he rasps, “fuck, what’re you doing to me? I’m gonna cum right here in my fucking pants. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” you gasp, tugging his hair to pull him away from your neck and press your foreheads together.
He chuckles, breathy pants fanning along your mouth as his lips hover yours while he murmurs, “yeah? That’s what you want?”
“Yes, Wriothesley,” you whimper, “want you to cum and make me cum, too.”
“I think I can do that, sweetheart. Think I can make that happen right now, if that’s what you need.”
And he doesn’t lie. Because his hips give one, two, three rough thrusts against you, rubbing the hard bulge in his pants along your dripping cunt and swollen clit before he stills for a moment and shudders.
Instinctively, your lips both find each other, swallowing shallow gasps and low moans as you both break at the same time. His cock jerks in between his legs, twitching with rope after rope of thick, sticky cum that soils his boxers and leaks through his trousers.
You don’t fare much better. It feels like you’re soaked—your walls gushing around nothing and dripping your slick essence until it leaves a wet patch on your own panties, dampening through them and leaving you to feel the wetness it leaves.
“More, Wrio,” you cry between kisses, rolling your hips in time with his as you ride out the last waves of your pleasure. A string of saliva connects your lips to his as you pull away to speak.
But he chases after you, closing the gap once more before moaning one last deep sound into your mouth as he slumps against you, pecking your lips once and mumbling, “can’t. We’re in the middle of the fortress, remember?”
It’s smug. So cocky for someone who just took you without even properly taking you right here in a dark, cold corner with pipes surrounding you.
You glare at him, watching as he throws you that easy, confident grin before grumbling, “then lead the way to your office, your grace.”
“With my utmost pleasure, my lady,” he laughs, slowly peeling himself off of you, “who knew you could be so impatient?”
You quirk an unamused eyebrow before glancing down at the wet, messy dark spot along his crotch. He follows your gaze, flushing while you point to the coat on the floor and huff, “put that on before someone sees the absolutely sorry state your pants are in, you smug bastard.”
You fix your clothes, smoothing out your appearance before walking out of the dark corner and heading for his office—and he follows soon after as he buttons his coat, trailing after you like an excited, energetically impatient puppy.
I don’t want to talk about what inspired this . Everyone don’t talk to me for one million years thanks 👍
#—rivistyping!#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley smut#wriothesley x you#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact smut#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin oneshots
586 notes
·
View notes
Note
Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍
Yes! Thank you for reading <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words
“Honey, I’m home!”
A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—
“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?”
You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.”
He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.”
“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.”
James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.”
“How would it be your fault?”
“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.”
You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.”
“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?”
“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.”
“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?”
You blink. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.”
“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.”
“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?”
You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now.
You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.”
His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.”
“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway.
A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up.
“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.”
You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours.
Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime.
But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice.
“I might,” you say.
“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.
#roommate!james potter#shy!reader#roommate!james potter x shy!reader#james potter au#james potter#james potter x shy!reader#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader#marauders au
1K notes
·
View notes
Text

``A More Vulnerable Side of the Elusive Moon``
Shadow Milk Cookie x GN Reader
CW: Slight Angst, not heavily proof read
The moon only shines because of the sun; yet it claims that light as its own. It is as greedy as it is illustrious. It appears bigger than it actually is due to an illusion. If placed in a room alongside a certain jester, and you were told to point to the liar, which would you choose?
Despite all of this, you can't help but admire it all the same. Even with all of its flaws, how can one not acknowledge its beauty?
"Thinking about something?"
You turn your head away from the moon only to be met by another. This one has a blueish hue and a signature, masked smile to go with it.
"Nothing you'd find entertaining," you say to Shadow Milk.
He continues to stare at you, unblinking. Despite him only having two eyes, you feel the gaze of hundreds more still on you.
Shadow Milk takes a seat next to you, taking your hand in his nearly instantly. It's cold to the touch.
"Hmmm, you think too much," He takes a strand of your hair and begins to twirl it. "There's no need for all of these silly thoughts to be running around in your mind."
Ever the touchy cookie.
"It's nice to think sometimes," You'd respond.
Shadow Milk Cookie only rolls his eyes before releasing your hand. "But that's so BORING. The only thoughts you should be thinking about anyway should be about me!"
You feel him place his head on your shoulder, and though his face is not visible to you, you're sure he's pouting.
"In a way, I was sort of thinking about you."
He lifts his head and turns to face you, his signaturing smile returning just as quickly as it faded. "Really?" He sounds akin to that of a small child receiving a gift on their birthday. In response, you nod your head.
"Mhm..." You shift slightly so you are behind him before wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head in the crook of his neck.
His expression is almost unreadable, yet there seems to be some sort of... annoyance.
"I'm always the big-spoon," Shadow Milk grumbles.
He hates to admit it, but he just loves to always be in control. Sure, this is a small example of it, but not having the upper hand in situations like this causes him to feel stuck.
Shadow Milk absolutely despises feeling stuck.
Even if you read through the dictionary one hundred times, you'd never find quite the right words to describe the disdain Shadow Milk experiences when it comes to feeling stuck.
"Just this one time please... I wanna hold you," you'd mutter.
Shadow Milk thinks it is absolutely pathetic how quickly he folds when you ask like that; yet it doesn't change the fact that he still does.
He may not have said it out loud, but him not moving out of your grasp was his own way of voicing that he would allow it.
Actually, it really was quite odd how quiet Shadow Milk was being. Normally he doesn't shut up.
But as you look up at his face, you can tell that something is different. He's thinking about something.
It's not like he never thinks, though. He thinks quite a lot, actually. He's just never so... obvious about it. So still... silent.
Perhaps he hates it. Perhaps he loves it.
Or... maybe a bit of both?
When it comes to Shadow Milk, it really is hard to tell.
"Thinking about something?" You parrot his way of speech from earlier.
His gaze locks onto yours. It's sharp and filled with something... Hatred? Confusion? Maybe it's something more innocent, like surprise. Whatever it is, it only lasts a moment.
One small, fleeting moment.
Then he's back to grinning, back to hiding behind that mask he's so carefully crafted.
You admit, you're not sure if you love him or the mask.
He, too, is unsure.
"You don't need to worry your little head about it!" He flicks your forehead.
"But I like to worry about you," You'd say.
And once again, Shadow Milk finds it absolutely disgusting how quickly he folds when it comes to your words.
Think about it; a beast such as him, falling for a mere weak, stupid, and frankly, rather gross mortal?
Just what would the other beasts think about him if they were to ever find out?
What would YOU think about him?
No, he simply cannot let you find out. Or anyone! But mainly you.
In fact, there isn't even anything to find out! Since he doesn't like you...
And as you observe him, you realize he's fallen silent once more. There's no grin or anything hidden on his face. He simply gazes at you. Admiring you, maybe? Staring? You're still not sure.
But you do know that this version of him is something different. A more fragile... more real version.
It's something you haven't seen before.
Perhaps it's even a more vulnerable side of the elusive moon.
AN:
This writing is actually pretty messy tbh, but this has been sitting in my drafts for like a week and I didn't know what to do with it.
I might write more using ideas from this, and hopefully that'll give me time to let all of this marinate.
I'm not sure how well the ideas in this work together, since there's a lot of them, but I still think they're pretty interesting to explore.
IE; Shadow Milk's fears, reader's doubt when it comes to loving a liar, and the comparison of SMC to the moon.
Idk what I'm even doing anymore tbh, but um yeah. Here's something to chew on IG
#shadow milk cookie crk#crk#cookie run kingdom#crk x reader#cookie run#cookie run kingdom x reader#shadow milk cookie#shadow milk cookie cookie run kingdom#shadow milk cookie fanfic#shadow milk x reader#shadow milk x reader angst#shadow milk cookie x reader#shadow milk#shadow milk x reader crk
623 notes
·
View notes
Text
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)
#ghost cod#cod mw ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost modern warfare#ghost mw2#ghost simon riley#ghost x reader#cod ghost#mw2 ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty modern warfare 2#modern warfare x reader#angst#x reader#x y/n#fluff#simon riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley imagine#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare ii#modern warfare#cod modern warfare#modern warfare 2#modern warfare ii
4K notes
·
View notes