#to get this man lai-----happiness and peace of mind.

[magnusbae]

gotta love it how no matter who you ship obi-wan with, he still ends up fucked and miserable and alone in the end of it all, man can't dodge a bullet no matter how hard he tries

[joelsdagger]

intermission || one shot

shout out to @dinandwhiskey for feeding into my delusions for this one and to @skrunkly-scrimblo for the beta <33

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader summary: movie night with joel doesn’t go to plan, or joel fucks your mouth while you’re sleeping. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rating: 18+ MDNI warnings: [No Outbreak], established relationship, age gap [reader is 24, joel is late 50’s] , dd/lg dynamics, daddy kink, somnophilia [no explicit consent in this fic but she’s cool with it, therefore dubcon], oral [m receiving], face fucking, deepthroating, finger sucking, praise kink, pet names [little bug, little angel, baby, the works lol], references to tummy bulge, references to unprotected p in v sex, mentions of creampie, cum eating, reader can be carried [tho in my mind joel is huuuuuge so size kink as well], Joel’s POV. word count: 2.3k a/n: happy father’s day (iykyk) :3 masterlist | ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. 

I don’t fall asleep during movies, daddy, you had sassed him. 

Whatever you say, little bug. 

That was an hour ago and now you’re resting your pretty little head against his belly, your hand tucked beneath your head. You look so peaceful. So pretty. So soft. So – pliant. 

He really shouldn’t. 

But then your hand slips from under your head and falls to rest a hair's breadth away from his clothed cock, it jumps in his sweats. You’ve practically pavloved him to react like that with just a mere graze of your fingertips. 

“You got no idea what you do to me, sweet girl, drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy over here,” his voice a low rasp, reaching for your fingers and gently pulling them from his lap, squeezing your fingertips twice before resting them atop his thigh. 

You’re completely limp, deep in your sleep and Joel is unable to control himself.

He snatches up the remote, hastily turns down the TV, shoves his gray sweats down to the middle of his thighs and frees his semi-hard cock. He wraps a hand around the base, gives it a firm tug, and rests the tip of his length on your lips.

He stills and swallows hard. He shouldn’t do this. He can’t do this, it feels selfish to take what he’s been desperately wanting from you — for the better part of an hour — when you’re unable to respond. He should wake you. 

But then, almost as if you’ve made the decision for him; your lips part and a soft moan releases from you, mmm, daddy. His cock twitches against your lips, opaque droplets already gathering at the slit. Your lips stay parted and the glistening tip slips between your plush lips. 

“Fuck– ” He groans at the sensation, eyes rolling back into his head, hand flying up to the back of yours, cradling your skull in an attempt to anchor himself as he slowly rolls his hips up into you. He stiffens fully at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him. It feels fucking incredible. 

How the hell did he get here? A rare lazy sunday night with you on his lap, taking a man almost three times your age in between your lips, letting him use you in your sleep. 

He remembers first laying eyes on you. You showed up on his porch one night, not too long ago, with sparkling eyes and a shy smile on your face. He didn’t even hear what you had said to him, too distracted by the soft skin of your exposed thighs just below the hem of your pale pink dress — barely covering the plump shape of your ass — and the flow of your hair as a wave of muggy summer heat swept past. He thinks it was something about the leftover cake from your birthday. He only guessed that from the sad, fat square slice of funfetti birthday cake held up in a flimsy paper plate before him, the letters jaggedly cut down the middle of the celebratory phrase.

Joel is a strong man; at least that’s what he tells himself. He knew you were too young for him. The split letters that barely spelled out twenty-four on your birthday cake told him as much. Trouble, he’d muttered. He still mumbles that occasionally when you push his buttons, though hours later, he often finds himself burying his length deep inside of you, tears pricking your eyes while he stretches your needy cunt.

But then you glanced up at him with wide, curious eyes and flashed him a big, toothy smile — the prettiest little thing he’s seen in all his long, hard years — and he cracked; his cement walls came crumbling down. He brought you inside his home, into his too-small bed, and fucked you until you cried, until you asked him for a break only to climb on top of him minutes later, begging him to feed you his cock again.

His cock pulses on your tongue at the memory, your voice high-pitched as you cried, Daddy, please, I want it. And Joel couldn’t resist his special girl. How could he? When you softly gasped into his mouth as he pushed the blunt head of his cock past your puffy folds — nuzzling in and making a home for himself — where he belongs. Your warm, drooling cunt sucking him in to the hilt, sheathing the entirety of his hard length inside your messy little pussy. 

Joel is a strong man, but not when it comes to you. 

Please, please, I need to feel it inside me. All the way up here, daddy, you whined, one hand gliding up your belly, the other fisting the fabric of your lace-trimmed dress. He just couldn’t resist you. So he fucked you and fucked you deep, until he was in the soft pouch of your tummy and poking through from the other side, just as you had asked of him. He fucked you full of his spend, until your poor, tiny hole couldn’t take any more of his cum. 

He’d damn himself to hell before he’d refuse you. He only hopes you don’t deny him if you wake. 

His deft, roughened fingers brush the hair out of your face before settling his hand back on your head. He sits up and leans over; marveling at the stretch of your lips around him, sweat beginning to pool at the nape of his neck and the corners of his temples. 

He feels filthy. A dirty old man. He’s never taken you like this before. But it doesn’t feel wrong. He’s only missing those pretty sounds you make —

You stir and let out a soft moan around him. Sweet Jesus, there you go. Your head dips lower down his belly, nestling more of his length into your hot mouth. Atta fuckin’ girl. Let me in, baby. Open up real big for daddy. 

“Such a naughty little thing, lettin’ me fuck your throat while you’re sleepin’, just needed to be full o’me huh?” He whispers softly, and at that, you hum. Joel can’t help when he bucks up into your mouth in response, saliva pouring past your lips and onto his graying pubic hair. 

“Fuck, baby, you like gettin’ daddy all messy? Like chokin’ on daddy’s big cock?” He taunts, a grin tugging on his face. 

Once again, as if you can hear him, you hum. 

You’re so damn responsive. Or maybe you just like having his dick in your mouth.  

“Fuck, yeah, you do,” he pants, his voice strained with restraint. His free hand glides down to the swell of your ass — the softest skin he thinks he’s ever felt — and hikes up the frilly hem of those pink sleep shorts that he likes a little too much — the ones speckled with tiny red hearts — over one cheek, grabs a handful of your plush flesh, and squeezes. You moan, and Joel feels your tongue twitch, feather-like, beneath the heavy weight of his cock, then pressing up against the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft. He bites down on his lip to muffle the loud moan that sneaks past his lips, the back of his head hitting the couch behind him. 

“Goddamnit, takin’ me so damn well, even in your sleep, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he babbles, his eyes shut tight as he revels in the feeling of himself in your mouth, the action movie silently playing on the screen flashes against his eyelids, measured shaky breaths escaping him. The strong hand on your head easing you lower and lower to take more of him, your lips now grazing the drool drenched hair at his base.  

Your mouth feels like velvet around him — warm and soft and so perfect that his hips cant upwards unconsciously, the pace of his thrusts increasing. He’s losing himself in the haze of his fast-approaching release, a deep-seated tension building in his gut, teetering on the edge until—

You splutter around him and Joel’s head snaps up to peer down at you, your eyelids flutter open against the soft glow of the television.

“Shit, baby. ‘M sorry,” he rasps and quickly retracts his hand from your head. Yet, you don’t pull yourself off him, instead you curl your weak fingers into his thigh. You don’t want him to stop. 

“You want me to keep going?” He asks gruffly, he knows you can take him, you’ve done it countless times since you have met. He’s trained you well. Yet, he needs to be certain he’s not reaching your limit. 

You drag your lips off his cock, an obscene wet slurping sound fills the too still air, letting off him with a pop and maneuvering yourself to sit up on your knees. “Yes, please daddy,” your voice still thick with sleep, peering up at him with an innocence to your needy gaze; a mixture of drool and precum coating your pouty lips. 

“Christ,” he mutters, under his breath. Such a pretty fuckin’ sight. One he reckons he’ll never get tired of seeing. He can’t deny you. Not when you look at him like that. 

“Okay, baby, here,” he murmurs, his hand retakes its place on the back of your head, guiding you toward his aching cock, your lips latch onto the fat head — all angry and red — and he inhales a shuddery breath as he watches your face contort at the stretch of him in your mouth. 

Your tongue flattens underneath him and he presses himself deeper into your willing mouth, filling you up and messaging the walls of your throat with the wide head of his cock. 

His grip in your hair tightens and a low groan rumbles in his throat, “There you go, baby, hold still.”  

Fucking hell. He could keep you here forever. 

“So goddamn pretty like this, baby,” Joel grits, “Love havin’ your mouth stuffed full o’ my cock, huh?” 

You make a low muffled sound around the length of his cock.

“S’right, you do,” he answers for you.  

His free hand trails down the length of your body, instinctively gripping the meat of your ass, dull fingernails digging into your skin, just barely grazing your puckered hole. You whine around him, the vibrations from your throat has him flexing his fingers your hair in response, and with shallow, quick thrusts of his hips, he fucks himself into your mouth. 

Fresh tears begin to sprout in your eyes as you gulp hard, your throat constricting around him. Joel feels his throbbing tip choked tight at the small opening at the back of your throat. The warm walls of your throat so tight — so good for him — the muscles in his belly tighten, and the hand on your ass is quick to join the other on your head, gripping your skull. “Shit— that’s it, angel. M’comin’.” His dick pulsates on your tongue, and a loud, guttural groan spills from him as hot, thick spurts of his cum coat your throat. His hand holds you there, firmly pressing your mouth flush to his spit-smeared balls. He feels you swallow around him again, and he whines quietly. The muscles in his jaw go slack, and his head falls back onto the couch while he lazily thrusts upwards, his leaking head bruising the back of your throat as he empties the last of himself into your mouth and filling your belly, his chest heaving from exertion.

He lifts his head when he feels you pull off him; you cough softly against him, the warmth of your breath brushes against his now softening cock, and his hooded gaze meets the sight of a thin string of saliva and cum dribbling from your wet, puffy lips, tears dripping from the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks. “Oh, c’mere, little bug, lemme see.” 

Just as he taught you, you plant a small, wet kiss on each of his heavy balls. Joel sighs through his nostrils. Fuck. What did he do to deserve you? You’re too good for him. You scoot over to sit up in his lap. Joel feels the slick between your legs through your tiny shorts when you press against his soft cock. He lets out a little groan; if he hadn’t just come, he’d be getting hard at the sensation.

His hand reaches to grip your jaw, angling your face up as you present him with your open mouth, the corners of his lips twitch at the sight of the walls of your little throat; empty, swollen, and used. 

“My filthy girl, you did so good f’me,” he cooes, coaxing away your tears and swiping your glistening lips clean. He pushes the pad of his thumb — covered in slobber and cum — into your mouth and presses it onto your tongue. Your wet eyes lock with his as you enthusiastically suck his thumb clean. 

Man alive. Maybe you’ll damn him to hell.

You release his thumb and giggle, biting your lip and smiling up at him dreamily. “Thank you, daddy, I liked it,” you rasp quietly. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, both of his hands on either side of your face, thumbs stroking your wet cheeks. 

Your wide, glassy eyes meet his gaze, “I like when you do things that make you feel good, it makes me feel good,” your voice hoarse and small, fingers toying with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Well – you always make daddy feel good, little angel,” he praises, leaning forward to lay a long kiss to your forehead that elicits a breathy sigh from you, your eyelids fluttering closed. 

“You tired, baby?” He whispers, tucking your soft hair behind your ear, fingers stroking down your hair and twirling the end of the gathered strands between his fingers.   

You yawn quietly and give him a slow, small nod, a sleepy smile to your face as you sink down in his lap, your weeping cunt throbbing against him. He’ll play with your perfect little pussy in the morning. Maybe your other little hole too. 

He chuckles at that. “Alright, little bug...” he starts, tucking his soft cock back into his sweats. He scoops you up into his arms; his weak, achy knees pop, and a low grunt spills from him as he stands, “Bedtime.”

[hihomeghere]

Insomniac

Word Count : 1.8k Summary : Five has trouble sleeping and when he does sleep it's anything but peaceful. After a nightmare he craves your touch to remind him you're okay. Warnings/Tags : Talk of nightmares, insomnia, smut, piv, cursing, allusions to violence, use of y/n, Aged up!Five

Happy Valentine’s Day <3

Whether or not Five wanted to admit it he was an insomniac. Blame it on his heightened survival instincts from the apocalypse, or the commission. Whenever it was time to relax and go to sleep, Five felt more wired than ever. Which led to you normally finding him in the strangest positions when he finally crashed. Whether that be hunched over the kitchen table, cold coffee in a mug next to him. Sometimes you’d find him slouched in a chair, a blanket draped over him by one of his brothers. Your favorite was when you’d be watching a movie together, his eyes slowly closing, he’d mumble something along the lines of, ‘just resting his eyes for a second’ before he’d be snoring on your shoulder. A sure sign that he was still an old man in a young man’s body.

It’s not like he didn’t try to sleep. Every night you’d both climb into bed, you’d lay your head on his chest, the soft beat of his heart lulling you to sleep. He’d lay awake, his mind constantly churning. He’d gotten so desperate at one point he’d tried to follow the meditation video Klaus had lent him. Although listening to some lady stoned out of her mind telling him to breathe deep only agitated him further.

On the nights where Five did fall asleep it was anything but peaceful.

Five screamed, waking you up as you all but jumped out of your skin. Five sat up in bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing erratic. You sat up, the sheet pooling around your waist.

“Five?” You whispered your hand lightly grazing his back. He jumped, turning to you like a cornered animal. His lips pulled back in a snarl, wide eyes glaring at you. “Hey,” You pulled back watching the gears turn behind his eyes, guilt washing over him as he realized you weren’t a threat. “Hey it’s ok, you’re ok.” He leaned forward resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him. His heart was beating like a small animal against your chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his head resting in the crook of your neck. Hot tears wetting your collarbone.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” You soothed, your hand traveling up to his head. You ran your fingers through hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He let out a shuddering breath, loosening his grip around your waist. “Do you want some tea?” You asked, you had been trying to help him kick his coffee addiction.

“Coffee.” He mumbled, sighing into your neck.

“Ok, let’s get some coffee.” You said peeling the sheets off the two of you. He sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. You grabbed your robe off the floor, wrapping it around your body. Five stood by your bedroom door, bleary eyed. You took his hand leading him down the stairs to the kitchen. You looked at the clock as you passed the oven, 2:35. You internally sighed slipping your hand out of Five’s grasp. He pulled out a chair, grimacing as it scraped across the tile floor. You walked over to your new Keurig, Five’s birthday present. You popped one of the pods in before shutting the lid. You walked over to the kitchen cupboards, pulling out a mug and setting it in the Keurig. The smell of coffee filled the air as Five got up from his seat. He walked up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. His arms wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck. You had both been trying to be more open about your pasts. Which meant having these uncomfortable conversations.

“Just-” He sighed, “Just stay with me for a minute, dearest.” You nodded slightly swaying as you both stood in the kitchen. Five loosened his grip around your waist, reaching past you to pick up his coffee cup. You leaned against the counter, pulling your robe closer around your body. He held the mug in one of his hands, leaning his head back against the cupboard cabinet. He let out a sigh before taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re staring.” He mused, turning to look at you.

“I’m just-” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders, “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” He said with a tight lipped smile. You raised your eyebrows, crossing your arms.

“I know you better than that.” You said a small smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.

“Then you know what it was about.” He huffed, bringing the mug to his lips.

“A or c?” You asked, looking down at your feet. You had invented a code between the two of you, A for apocalypse and C for commission. While you couldn’t relate to being stuck in a post apocalyptic world, you were all too familiar with the inner workings of the commission. The killings you both carried out plagued your dreams as well. Your hands had been stained long ago.

“C.” He answered. The commission. Well that narrowed it down.

“Real or not real?” He hesitated, sneaking a glimpse toward you before raising his gaze toward the ceiling.

“Not real.” He said before clearing his throat. You walked over to him, laying your hands on his cheek. He avoided your gaze keeping his eyes lo

“Was it about me?” You asked, pushing his head slightly with your hand to get him to look at you.

“Yeah.” He said clenching his jaw, his eyes darted away from yours. You waited for a moment, to see if he would say anything more.

“I’m right here.” You whispered after a moment had passed, “I’m right here and I’m ok.”

“I know,” He leaned forward his lips finding your neck, he breathed in your sweet scent. The tiniest hint of sweat from the night. His hands found your hips, pulling you against him.

“I need you.” He breathed against your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses.

“You have me.” You sighed, leaning your head back offering him your neck.

The world spun and the temperature dropped as Five blinked you both back to your room. It took a second to get your bearings before your knees hit the bed. You allowed Five to lay you down, his long fingers curling under the waistband of your pajama pants. He pulled them off, while you pulled your shirt over your head.

“So gorgeous.” He murmured, kissing up your stomach. You sighed contently, melting under his touch. He pulled away briefly, pulling his shirt off and stepped out of his pajama bottoms. Leaving both of you in your underwear. He lifted your hips up off the bed, his fingers curling into the waistband on your panties as he pulled them off. Your body buzzed with anticipation as you watched him take off his boxers. He climbed forward onto the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You grabbed the back of his neck pulling him forward into a kiss as the head of his cock found your entrance. Tasting the bitter coffee on his tongue as slipped inside with the familiar ease of a lover. You gasped into his mouth, feeling every inch of him as he pressed inside you.

“There you are.” He sighed against your lips, his own curling into an easy smile.

“Five-“ You moaned, gripping his shoulders as he slowly started thrusting inside you. He never left your cunt, hips rolling against yours. Your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close as possible. Your moans and the sweet sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air. You looked up at Five, his eyes bore into yours. You felt a bit shy under his gaze, your eyes darting away.

He stilled, laying his forearms beside your head as leant over you. He covered your body with his own, his hand turning your head so you would look at him.

“Let me see you.” He said softly, nosing against your cheek.

It was moments like this that made you feel like a normal person. Moments when it was just the two of you in the world, two becoming one. He reached down, grabbing your thigh, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. “You feel so good.” He mumbled, pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. He was taking his time with you tonight, that much was clear.

Your heels dug into his butt, trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a small laugh, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. He slowed, his hips creating a low drag into your cunt with every thrust. His pubic hair rubbing against your clit in a delicious way that had you clenching around him. A low whine pulling its way out of your throat, as he propped himself up.

“You like that doll?” He whispered, his cock rubbed at your walls in deliberate strokes.

“Mmhm.” You nodded tears springing to your eyes as you bit your lip. Your body craved more, more stimulation, more Five. “Please.” You whined, your hands digging into his shoulders, leaving small crescent shapes in their wake.

“Please what?” He asked tilting his head as he leaned down, nipping and sucking at your neck.

“More, I need more please.” You said bucking your hips up to gain and friction.

“As you wish.” He said, his breath fanning across your neck as he snapped his hips into yours. You moaned, your eyes rolling back into your head as he set an excruciating pace. He sat back on his heels, pulling you down the bed with him. He slammed into you, leaving you a moaning mess under him. You grabbed his thighs, nails dragging down his pale legs. Your body buzzed as you neared your high, breasts bouncing as he drove into again and again.

He watched you, picking up subtle signs your orgasm was approaching. Your toes curled as he reached between your bodies, rubbing deliberate circles on your clit.

That was enough to send you over the edge, you spasmed around him, your nails digging into his thighs as you cried out. Tears slipping down your cheeks.

“That’s it.” He smirked, breathing hard. He was getting sloppy as he neared his peak. You continued to ride out your orgasm as his came crashing down.

“F-Fuck.” He groaned spilling into you, his hips stuttering as he painted your insides. He lowered his body onto yours, laying his head in the crook of your neck as he interlaced his fingers with yours. You both breathed hard, letting your heart rate come down.

“How do you feel now?” You asked breathlessly, squeezing his hands.

“Much better.” He nodded, kissing your neck. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You said pulling your hands away to wrap them around his sweaty body.

Needless to say, Five slept through the night

[shaisuki]

❝𝚰 𝐒𝐓𝚰𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝚰𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐗 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝚰𝐌𝐄𝐒, 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝚰𝐌𝐄𝐒. ❞

cw: stalking, yandere-ish gojo, implied babytrapping, power imbalances, forced affection, smut.

ex-boyfriend gojo who says that the break up was mutual. it was not. you broke up with him. reasoning that you both have your differences and the miscommunication are taking a toll in both of your relationship and decided it was better to break it off than cause further damages to you both.

ex-boyfriend gojo who made peace with it. he says but he's not. he struggles with it a lot and a lot means staring at your pictures every night and pathetically jerks with it.

ex-boyfriend gojo who have made flings every now and then, it's a good distraction but it's not when you haunts him with his memories of you. wishing it was you underneath him and not some random girl he's fucking with.

ex-boyfriend gojo stalking your every social now and then. he looks out for possible rivals he may have in the near future. checking every update and he smiles when he sees you posting random things that he knows that makes you happy. a selfie of you. a random puppy you're holding. a book that you're currently reading and everything that is related to you. he saves them on his phone. his fingers having a mind of their own and tapping the save button.

ex-boyfriend gojo staying up late and thinks about the whole relationship he had with you. sure it was wonderful but you both are flawed especially him. it wasn't your fault that you gave up, he gave up first. his regrets dawning onto him why he gave you up when he should have fought. he knows you still cry at night blaming for the relationship you have no control over.

ex-boyfriend gojo replays the voicemails just to hear your voice once again. playing the videos when you both are still together. your laughter filling the silence of his bedroom and his own thoughts. staring longingly at you and it just hurts that everything still reminded him of you.

ex-boyfriend gojo who frequents the places that you two used to visit. the museum. the aquariums and any places where he can think of. eating alone at your favorite places hoping that you can come back and join him but it was nothing and it just the bitterness he feels being surrounded by the couples around him.

ex-boyfriend gojo who gets drunk and moans about you to his colleagues without him realizing it. sober he sounds when he told them about you and it's everything's clear that he is the problem and it's not you. he wakes up and then forgets like nothing ever happened like he didn't just pour his heart out to his colleagues the night before.

ex-boyfriend gojo decides that he should keep his distance at you so both of you could move and get with each other's lives but takes it back cause he's just a man. wanting you to be by his side, like the old days when you're both happy.

ex-boyfriend gojo turning into one of those stalkers but he's not. he's just following you home. making sure you're safe and don't mind him if he follows you to work. he's keeping an eye to you. frowning and glaring at every man that dares to look at you and ask you for a date. how dare they! it's sad when he sees you not smiling from what he's doing but it's fine. you can smile around him. he should be the reason you're smiling.

ex-boyfriend gojo breaks in to your home just to watch you sleep. watching as your chest heaves as you breathe. sometimes he lays besides you just to stare and pretends that everything's fine just the way they are and he's not your ex-boyfriend that's a stalker who likes watching his ex sleeps.

ex-boyfriend gojo solemnly touches your round cheeks smooched in the pillow. he imagines you melting in his touch and stays there and you would close your eyes cause you're that comfortable around him. that you trusted him and his fingers would slowly descend to your soft lips. the very lips that he kisses every time he can get. the very lips that gets swollen when he's swept away to his desires.

ex-boyfriend gojo then his sight drops to your plush body. generous with curves that every night he gives them the love it deserves. your soft pajamas adorning your voluptuous body that it's hard to keep his advances knowing it's his weakness. it won't right if he touches you? he did it plenty. break up or not. you will always belong to him.

ex-boyfriend gojo who leaves for the night. afraid that he can't control himself and lose himself in the moment with you and you'll hate him more. he can't have that.

ex-boyfriend gojo that visits you daily after that. there is something sad of how your face is stained with tears. probably crying from how he have hurt you and it wasn't his intention. he tenderly wipes the tears and wishes you're awake and apologize for the time he had hurt you.

ex-boyfriend gojo who makes sure to left gifts at your doorstep. the flower deliveries every day and the little notes that comes with it. saying how sorry and lovely you are at the same time. it didn't deter him that you just casually ignores it. you'll soften at him in no time.

ex-boyfriend gojo who got tired of being in the shadows. showing at your doorstep without warning and straights up asks you to be with him again. whom you rejected without thinking twice. it's over, you tell him and he doesn't take that seriously.

ex-boyfriend gojo unceremoniously shows at every place where you go. asking you the same question and he gets the same answer from you that it's starting to affect your relationships with others and your personal life.

ex-boyfriend gojo kneeling in front of you at the confines of your home and he's close to kissing your feet which you forbid him to and you just burst into tears. telling him that why he can't understand that you two are over and it won't change.

ex-boyfriend gojo who proves you wrong. bugging you every moment he can get and changing all the things that cause this and would humble himself in front of you just to proves that he really loves and cares for you.

ex-boyfriend gojo who forces you to get back to him. leaving you no choice but to take him back and it's the worst decision you ever made cause now he just won't leave you alone.

“satoru, stop.” you say to him as you grabbed his hands who's hard on trying prying your thick thighs open just to get that goodness he's been missing for months. why would you even try that you're no match for his strength and you gave up but it doesn't mean you're not resisting him.

“missed this pussy, baby.” he hums before diving back again to your soaked cunt. his nose nudging your clit as he fucks you with his tongue. wiggling it inside that your thighs are clenching around his head. despite a warning to stop his advances, it encourages him more. he makes sure you've cummed thrice before he's caging you in his arms.

his cock hard and beads of precum are leaking while he slowly thrusts into your fat pussy and when he bottomed out. groaning and almost drooling at the tightness of your pussy. you were filled many times that night and you wake up feeling sore that you can barely walk.

ex-boyfriend gojo that have his whims in getting back at you and now he's your boyfriend and soon-to-be husband after knocking you up with his brat. ensuring that you won't leave him again and there's no reason for a break-up. he's just that insufferable.

[thetriumphantpanda]

new religion | joel miller

Summary | Joel's never much been a religious man, but if he were, he'd ask the Lord what he'd ever done to deserve you.

Pairing | Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.5k

Warnings | Explicit. Religious imagery, basically porn without plot, oral (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, cumshot, dirty talk, Joel worshipping you like you deserve, nothing bad happens to him ever and he dies peacefully in his sleep at age 101, no use of y/n. Written and edited on phone so please excuse any mistakes.

Authors Note | God bless hbo for that teaser am I right? I just want Jackson Joel to always find peace. Also thanks to All Time Low and their song New Religion for the Inspo. I hope you enjoy!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi 

Divider by the ever wonderful @saradika

I found God and we found heaven, On the bedroom floor.

Joel Miller isn’t sure how he got here. Knees creaking and painful, a dull ache in his back that never goes away, and years behind him that have led him to right now.

Years of being closed off, scared to open up to anyone in case he failed them as well. Years of using his anger at himself to reign terror on others. Years with Tommy that were strained, years with Tess that were less so, even good sometimes, and now years with Ellie, good, bad and everything in between. The relative safety of Jackson was unsettling, after years of fighting to survive and barely making it, scars on his body testimony to that, the normality was unsettling.

He’s getting used to it though, slowly but surely, and he thinks that along with his brother and Ellie, it has something to do with you.

You, stood in front of him, backlit by the setting sun, nude and waiting, whilst he kneels in front of you. Pained be damned, he’s going to worship you like the goddess you are.

Tommy has spent the past year absolutely rinsing his older brother for this. When Joel and Ellie had arrived back, he’d made it his mission to set Joel up with one of the many fawning ladies available. There was Esther, who was nice enough, and Lindsey who had been far too forthcoming, and others that Joel would rather not remember, telling Tommy that he didn’t need anyone, didn’t want anyone, was more than happy on his own.

Then he’d met you, sunshine to his clouds, sharp, quick-witted and funny. A take-no-shit kind of gal that had gotten under his skin more than he cared to admit. The first few times it was quick, fumbles in the alley behind the tipsy bison, or hurried moments bent over the dusty couch at the lookout on patrol, convincing himself that once again this was nothing but stress relief.

Then things changed, you started making him laugh, started sitting on his porch with him, laying on his couch whilst he played his guitar, and then he started spreading you out on his bed, started taking his time, learning what made you respond best, how you liked it, how you clenched so tight around him when he clasped your fingers in his and pounded you into the mattress.

Joel has never been much of a religious man, not since the end of the world, but he thinks, right here on your bedroom floor, that he’s found God. When you walk towards him and run your hands through his greying hair, tilt his chin up so he’s looking at you, hands on your hips like you’re his altar.

He brings his face closer to you, tongue licking through your folds as you stand before him. Your fingers tighten in his hair when the tip of his tongue finds your clit, your own head tipping back, face to the real Lord if he exists, muttering his name over and over in your own twisted prayer.

His jeans are tightening as he licks at you, the sounds you make doing what they always do, shooting straight to his cock. It’s why he can’t quit this, even if in the back of his mind he knows he probably should. You’re younger than him, though not scandalously, and he can feel that the years of his prime are fading the more comfortable he gets here. He knows that wanting you as much as he does is a sin in itself, but walking away? That somehow seems worse to him. He finally wants to be selfish, to think of himself and his own happiness for once, and it’s the taste of you on his tongue when he drags it down to where you’re leaking for him that convinces him he has to stay.

“Oh, Joel,” You whimper, knees shaking, “Keep going.”

“Ain’t plannin’ on goin’ anywhere, pretty girl.” He groans into your pussy, his big hands holding your hips in place to keep you upright as his tongue drags back up from your fluttering hole to your clit.

You widen your stance a little, spreading the lips of your cunt for him so he can fuse his mouth over your clit, suckling at it whilst his tongue works against the swollen bud in the way that he knows will have you tipped over the edge in no time.

He loves when you come for him. A reminder that he’s still got it, that he can learn your ins and outs and keep you satisfied, even at his age. He has to press his fingers into your hips a little tighter when you do come for him, keeping you upright before you knees can buckle underneath you as you cry his name out into the darkening room. Pulling his mouth away from you before you start whimpering that it’s too much.

Normally he’d pull you over to the bed, but there’s something in him tonight that means he can’t wait the extra seconds, so he’s pulling you down onto the floor with him, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands so you don’t hit in on the wood as he crawls on top of you, legs spread wide for his thighs as he pops the buttons of his jeans and drags the zipper down.

He’s in too much of a rush to undress properly, pulling his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. You’re reaching down, taking his length in your hand, dragging it up and down as he pulls his shirt over his head.

There are tiny droplets of sweat across your forehead, the open window and the breeze no match for the heat in the room, and he doesn’t know why he does it, but as he leans down, your hand guiding his cock to your soaked cunt, he lets his lips kiss across your forehead, like it’s holy water and he’s being reborn as he slips into your tight heat.

He doesn’t think he’s heard a sweeter sound than the ones he hears from you as he drags his cock in and out of your pussy. Gasps and whines and whimpers, never too loud, like they’re just for him. No-one else needs to know how good he makes you feel, just him. He presses his mouth to yours as he grips your wrists, pinning them to floor, swallowing your sounds as he fucks you.

Joel knows that it takes him a little longer these days, knows from the way you’re squirming that the ache in your hips is setting in. He knows that your body aches the same as his does, that your back aches and your knees hurt after a long patrol, but you’re being so good for him.

“Such a good girl,” He coos into your ear, “Y’can take it, can’t you?”

You arch your body up into him at his praise, “It’s so good,” You moan, your hands reaching behind him to sink your nails into the meat of his ass, “Harder, please.”

He can never deny you, so he pushes himself up, takes your knees in his hands and presses them down towards your chest, hooking his arms there to keep you spread open as he guides his cock back into you. He can feel his own sweat appearing across his skin as he does exactly what you asked for, he fucks you harder, as hard as he can, listening to the squeals you make as he bottoms out inside you and the slapping of his skin against yours.

“M’close,” He moans at you, “M’gonna come, baby.”

“Please,” You groan back, squirming underneath him, “Come for me Joel, please.”

And he does, pulling out at the very last minute, letting go of your legs to pump his cock with his fist before he comes, splashing his spend across your belly as he tips his head back and praises the Lord for you.

He knows he will pay for it tomorrow, but he collapses onto the floor next to you, pulling you into his chest. He can feel the sticky cum mixing with the hair across his stomach, but he doesn’t much care, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you settle together on the cool ground. His fingers trail up and down your spine as you lie together in the quiet of the early evening, finding peace with it all for once. After years and years of being on his own, of being scared to open up and let someone in, he finds he doesn’t much mind the thought of it anymore.

And above all, whether he makes it to the real thing or not when his time is up, that he’s found heaven, right here on your bedroom floor.

[saintobio]

the perfect boyfriend, feat. l&ds xavier.

pairings. xavier, fem!reader genre. fluff, smut, established relationship, 18+ tags. petnames (bunny), jealousy, virginity loss, unprotected sex, cockwarming, slight dom/sub play, same timeline!xavier notes. he’s still my l&ds main until july 15th just kidding :’D i love xav sm he’s literally so bf material to me

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who had a hard time expressing his feelings the first time he met you. he used to be a man of a few words—or, as you liked to put it, a very nonchalant guy. it’s not that he’s disinterested. in fact, every small interaction he’d had with you lingered on his mind all night. you’re all he can think about until he finally had the courage to confess to you one day, after saving you from a bunch of wanderers, and thinking he’d almost lost you. again. he just couldn’t let that happen.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who always responds to your texts and calls right after you press send or hit the ring button. he values your time and doesn’t want you to feel ignored after that one particular incident… when he fell asleep the entire afternoon and his phone conveniently died, only to see a number of missed calls and text messages from you the moment he woke up. he felt really bad at how worried you got, so he made a promise to always keep himself available for you.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who enjoys hotpot, and has made it a habit to suggest dining at his favorite hotpot place after a successful mission. it’s not just the spicy broth that he loves about that place; it’s also your care in serving him and arranging ingredients in his bowl. you were such a dream girl to look at.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who gets very jealous whenever you’d talk about another male colleague of yours. he wouldn’t say it out loud, but the signs are there when he starts showing that cute, grumpy face. he becomes very competitive too, asking questions like, “so, did you enjoy your time with him?” or “do you usually talk to him a lot?” and you figured that the best way to cut him off during his fits of jealousy, is to squeeze his cheeks and give him a soft, tender kiss, swearing to him that you are his and his only.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who makes it a routine to take note of the way other couples interact. and he’s specifically observing the man more than the woman. he has a journal called, ‘how to make my girlfriend happy’ where he writes about what he would notice guys typically do to make their girlfriends smile and laugh. one time, while he was walking downtown, he passed by an arcade place that had a row of new claw machines. the guy managed to get his girlfriend a stuffed toy, and in seeing how much the girl liked it, xavier invites you the next day for a claw machine date, promising that he won’t stop until he gets you the bunny plushie you wanted.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who loves it when you call him ‘xavi’, both casually and… sensually. there’s something so sexy about hearing you say “xavi~” into his ear, especially when you’re leaning way too close to him that he can smell that sweet scent of yours.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier whose mind is as vast as the known universe. he enjoys talking about the cosmos, the galaxy, and the stars alike—sometimes, he’d even be poetic about it. and that’s why he got the nickname ‘galaxy kid’ from you. there are nights where you two would go to the rooftop, watching the stars while lying next to each other. for xavier, there’s nothing more peaceful than stargazing with the girl he adores.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who was extremely nervous on your first night, because you were his first the same way he was yours. he doesn’t want to seem inexperienced in the sex department, so he tried gathering learning resources prior to you spending the night over at his apartment. in his head, he had mental notes, a very explicit and detailed one, of the things he had to do to please you: 1) kiss you, stroke your hair, and lay you in bed 2) slowly undress you, continue kissing down your body, cup your breast, and trace your curves 3) spread your legs open, place his fingers on your clit, then play with your sensitive bud, gently insert a finger or two 4) deepen the kiss when you moan, guide your hand and make you stroke his length, while he pulls his fingers out and sucks his digits to taste you 5) make sure you’re all wet and aroused, place his swollen tip on your entrance carefully, bury his cock inch-by-inch and stop whenever it hurts you, then wait until you’ve adjusted before he starts rocking his hips back and forth. was it a success? of course! he had followed every step diligently.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who ended up asking for two more rounds after your first session. he thought he didn’t perform well the first time because he felt like you made him cum too fast. he just didn’t expect you to be that tight, like your pussy was swallowing his member, your velvet walls wrapping around his girth as if milking him of his cum. missionary was the perfect position to start, but for the second round, he insisted on letting you ride him so you’d find the rhythm you want. and boy, did he go crazy as he watched you move your hips so goddamn sensually. he couldn’t stop his hands from touching your body, kneading your tits, and squeezing your buttocks. “my beautiful girl,” he’d moan, half-lidded eyes staring straight into yours, “you’re so good at this, y/n.”

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who finally learned what fetish means after personally experiencing one of his own. it was waking up with his cock still buried deep inside your cunt, his arms protectively wrapped around your frame as you slept soundly. or were you already awake by then? he wasn’t sure, but he could feel your pussy clenching around his shaft and he couldn’t tell if you were doing it on purpose. but damn, isn’t that hot? he’d think to himself, with his member growing harder the more he thought about it. “my bunny’s so naughty.”

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who loves it when you pet his hair like a good boy. your hands are magical! he’d fall asleep in a blink of an eye when he’s laying on your lap and you’re running your fingers through his hair. during nighttime though, he’s an absolutely sucker for the more dominant version of you. the way you’d pull his hair, grab his chin, and even as far as playing with his aching member using the tip of your tongue. agh! you’re making him sin.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who has a knack for giving you small gifts and trinkets, like that pretty little ribbon he saw at a store. or that moon-shaped desk lamp. or that pearl bracelet with a bunny charm. his girlfriend isn’t just sexy, she’s also cute. so she needs to have cute things!

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who treats you like a princess and makes sure you’re always warm and comfortable around him. too cold? he’d be sure to bring his hoodie for you. too hot? he’d buy you the best ice cream in town. whatever you wanted, he would get it. and he never, ever lets go of your hand whenever you two are walking around. he just can’t let you wander too far off, afraid that he won’t be able to protect you if he can’t see you. he adores you so much, and his heart swells at the mere thought of you. because there’s nothing more precious to him than the first and only girl he’ll ever love in this world. you.

[lilacqiqis]

A/N:Uwaaa first actual post on this blog!! I'm excited and hopefully you guys (3 people) will like it <3-Mod Lilac

Hair playing (ft. Naruto, Kakashi, Hinata, Itachi, Sasuke. GN!reader)

tw: none

More under the cut

🌙 It's no shock that Naruto loves being affectionate in every way possible, having his hair played with is one of his favorite activities!

🌙 Pat your lap and he'll get the signal instantly, rushing up to you and putting his chin on your thighs with that iconic smirk.

🌙 Give his scalp a few scratches, it's comforting to him. His hair is oddly soft despite him seeming like he has a shitty hair routine... Wonder what his hair care routine is? "Heheh, I don't really have a routine... I just dip my hair in the hot springs and call it a day!" Maybe the hot springs has some kind of magic imbued in it?

🌙 Sometimes, Naruto will play around with your hair. He's a goof, and ends up messing up your hairstyle or tugging too hard... He'll apologize with a crooked smile, so don't get too mad at him <3

🌻 Kakashi doesn't mind it when you play with his hair. It's nice, actually. Reading his book while you run your fingers through his gray locks... It's a peaceful moment he'll cherish.

🌻 He'd also like if he was pressed between your thighs while you played with his hair, so do the man a favor and indulge him a little. It's nothing inherently sexual... Kakashi just likes your thighs.

🌻 He loves falling asleep on your lap while you mess with his hair. Perhaps you can take his vulnerable sleeping state to pull down his mask... Nope. He'll catch your wrist and stop you before you get the chance to. Perhaps he has a special sixth sense for that...

🌻 Sometimes, Kakashi will tie your hair for you (if it is long enough to tie). It's a small act of affection, but it's sweet regardless. He isn't exactly one to play with your hair often, but sometimes he'll grab a strand while you're talking and twirl it between his fingers.

🦋 Hinata is such a sweet girl, letting you do what you want as long as it makes you happy. And if playing with her hair makes you happy, then she's more than willing to sit down and let you run your fingers through her hair.

🦋 She doesn't mind at all if you randomly play with her hair, she's glad you like her hair so much! Who wouldn't though? Her hair is silky and long, absolutely gorgeous. She takes extremely good care of it and her hair has a soft scent of lavender.

🦋 If you ever asked, she'd help you do your hair. Hinata enjoys brushing your hair, but if you prefer it messy she's fine with that too.

🦋 Tie her hair and do different hair dos! She'll love it, a pink hue on her cheeks as you braid or curl her hair. Even if you suck at it, Hinata will try to compliment you regardless on your skills.

🌹 You want to play with Itachi's hair? Go right ahead, darling. If it makes you happy... Itachi is happy too. He'll untie his hair and crouch down to lay his head on your lap, letting you do as you wish.

🌹 The look he gives you while you run your fingers through his strands is so... Soft. He enjoys your touch, being as touch starved as he is. He'll run circles on your thigh with his hand, giving you the sweetest smile.

🌹 Let him pamper you as well, he loves taking care of you and making you feel good. Itachi will return the favor with soft kisses as he motions for you to lay in his lap.

🌹 King of scalp massages, the way he runs his hands through your hair is comforting, he doesn't care if your hair is crunchy either the man persists. Please don't tell him no, he's just so eager to make you comfortable and happy, it makes him twice as joyful. But if you really don't like it he'll stop, not wanting to go against your wishes.

🌱 "What? No, don't touch my hair."

🌱 Proceeds to get mad when you say it's okay. Sasuke really expects you to pressure him so he can pretend he hates it 😭. If you do pressure him however he'll grumble and say "Fine. I'm only letting you do this because you'll just keep pestering me."

🌱 Acts uninterested as you play around with his hair, but he is ecstatic on the inside. He won't admit that ever, not even to himself, but this makes him feel extremely comfortable.

🌱 I don't see Sasuke as the type of person to play with your hair, and he's probably refuse if you asked him to. What a spoiled boy... Don't worry, he'll get more soft as time goes on.

[taeslarityy]

dirty laundry ༄ dave york one shot (18+)

-> pairing: dark dave york x female reader

-> word count: 2.8k

-> summary: it’s a hot august week at the york’s lake house, which also happens to be the week you and your husband got married one year ago. your father in law — dave york — finds you changing in the laundry room and decides to give you a celebration of his own.

-> warnings/tags: father-in-law dave york, infidelity, dubcon, NON-CON, age gap (reader is 21, dave is nearing 50), SMUT 18+, heavy degradation(whore, slut, bitch), humiliation, dumbification, unprotected piv, sir kink, rough face-fucking, forced creampie, talk of pregnancy, reader is under the impression that she endures forced impregnation, hair pulling, slapping, spanking, semi naive reader, dave is not a cutesy nice man in this.. he honestly has no concern for readers feelings or pleasure. so please, if themes like dubious consent + non-con + blatant cheating are not ur forte, protect ur peace and scroll away!!

-> a/n: okay okay hiiiii. when i decided to participate in @hellishjoel ‘s #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i had a few ideas in mind. one happened to be this! but i felt more comfortable writing for joel and was confident in what i had planned. basically, this is opposite of that. no fluff or happy ending.. or even happy anything. so i wanted to share! thanks again kylee for letting me participate <3 and thank you to my beloved dearest @sweetpascal for aiding me yet again, i love u 🤍

let me know your thoughts!

DARK CONTENT BELOW: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

A huge part of growth, means acknowledging your mistakes.

When you failed your first semester of college, you knew it was from lack of trying and partying six days a week. So, you studied more and partied four days a week instead. When you slammed your brand new Mercedes into a flag pole, you knew it was from scrolling on Instagram which caused you to push accelerate rather than stop. So, you never went on your phone while driving again.

When you fell in love your sophomore year and decided to get married at twenty, you knew it was because you needed the well-off grad school bachelor, Daniel York. So, inadvertently, you settled. Now, a year later, you're sobbing in his family’s lake house bathroom because he somehow forgot that tonight was the eve of your wedding anniversary.

You feel like a complete and utter idiot. And for once in your life, you just might be. Staring at your reflection, you examine your appearance. You look effortlessly amazing today, after spending the day out on the boat. Hair, body and face all faintly sun-kissed. Your skin freshly shaved, legs and arms lathered in your favorite oil.

This was your final attempt to see if Daniel would stare at you with the same look of admiration he had so long ago. Your first attempt to ask him about starting your own family. Tonight was the night, and you were determined.

Briefly peeking out of the guest bathroom and down the hall, you decide you can rush into the laundry room only a few doors down. Everyone should seemly be downstairs, finishing up a game of Monopoly. You had the pleasure of winning two games in a row, pissing of the frightfully competitive York family. That’s when you decided to call it a night and head up to get ready for bed — bidding everyone a goodbye as you kissed your husband atop his head.

Wrapping your robe securely around your waist, you make your way towards the closed door and enter just as the dryer sings the most obnoxious 45 second tune that confirms the load is finished. Rich people shit, you mutter to yourself. Grabbing your bikini and sundress to hang up first, then laying out a sheer white silk sleeping dress with baby blue lace trim.

Looking back at the closed door, you conclude you should be fine to just throw it on before laying yourself out on your shared bed. Ready for your husband to see you so open and willing to be used by him. As your robe falls to your feet, a slight creek fills the silent space.

Whipping your head back and grabbing the nearest towel to cover yourself, you're met with an alluring glare from your husbands own dad. Your father-in-law, Dave York.

"Dave wha- what are you doing?" You question with a panic laced tone. Completely thrown off by the way he's leaning against the now locked door, hands in his wrinkle-free perfectly fitted black work slacks. His lack of response is louder than the faint trickle from the utility sink your bare-ass is pressed against.

Dave saunters over to you, his pristinely polished shoes clinking heavily with every step despite the minimal weight he's using. It's a commanding presence, shows how he doesn't have to storm over to establish authority. His handsome body towers over you and the faint hairs on your spine rapidly rise at the feeling of his warmth nearing your own naked body. Aside from the small washcloth that covers your crotch and arm across your heavy tits.

His veiny calloused wedding ring-wearing hand reaches next to you, finding the lace on your nightgown satisfyingly soft.

"Look at this, angel. Did you plan on wearing it for my inconsiderate son?" He remarks, looking into your wide eyes as his fingers continue to twist and feel at a piece of clothing that is filling you with an overbearing amount of embarrassment.

"I d- you weren't supposed to see that." The nervous confession brings a crooked grin to Dave's face.

"It's real pretty, just like you. Sexy even.... but I wouldn't waste my time putting something like this on for Daniel." Shaking his head at your frazzled state and utilizing that dismissive tone he does so well.

"W-why?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance at your innocent unknowing voice, Dave reaches a hand to slowly move your arm that's covering your plush chest. "Because, he left 10 minutes ago. Waved bye to me as I pulled into the driveway."

Now you're really fucking confused. Your husband never goes off without texting you to let you know, and why would he leave you alone at his parents home? Especially on the night prior to your anniversary.

"I don't understand. Did he tell you where he was going?" You probe at him, not processing the way his rough fingertips are skimming over your navel, up across your chest. Suddenly, you yelp as he pinches your pebbled nipple and grips under your adjacent perky breast. Your hand quickly grabs at his wrist, but he slaps it away — holding it at your waist.

"You really have nothing going on in that head of yours, huh? Just floating around being the perfect little wife for my son, is that right? Too stupid and blind to see that your husband cheats on you every living moment and only married you because you're nothing more than a sweet voice who’s gentle on the eyes." His painful out-of-pocket words paired with the twisting of your nipples has heavy tears brimming at your lashes. "Kind of him to make sure you're gentle on his old mans eyes too.... we always did share a type."

"Fuck you," you spit at him. You've never dared be rude to Dave, or anyone for that matter. But his condescending temper, sudden violations to your privacy paired with the already upsetting feelings you've been enduring today was a breaking point. As you rip your hand from his grasp prepared to rush out of the room, he grabs your throat in a vice grip. Landing a brutal smack on your cheek that causes your head to turn from the impact, just for him to use that same hand to yank your hair back to a straight position. Body now pressed against your own — you feel the washcloth protecting your femininity drop at your bare feet in terror.

"Hmm. Never heard you cuss before, sweetheart. Thought I taught my son to train his wife better than that."

A heavy tear streams down your now red swollen cheek, as you take in the hurtful message your father in law is clarifying. You're nothing but a piece of fuck meat, a trophy wife. But clearly not honored enough for your husband to use you. Humiliatingly, the way Dave's clothed body is up against your own, has your exposed cunt throbbing and leaking down your legs for him. You were good enough for Dave York, and that was an honor within itself.

"'M sorry," you murmur at the feel of his covered thigh spreading your leg and nudging into your soaked pussy.

Dave chuckles at your nearly cock drunk state, "haven't even touched you and your leaking on my dress pants. No wonder he keeps you around, you're just a perfect little slut willing to please."

"Y- yeaah," you sigh lightly humping his thigh, even though Dave didn't even ask a question. Something within you just wanted him to understand your body was his to use, despite both your sacred dedications to other partners. People so close to you. His son, your husband. Your mother-in-law, his wife.

He swiftly moves his thigh from between your legs, pinching your cheeks so they're puckered willing you to look at him with those glossed over doe-eyes he fucking leaks over. "Use that head and address me properly."

Your head swarms for a second, worried of his reaction to an incorrect title. Testing the waters, you whine, "yes, sir." The words muffled by the tight hold he has on your face.

With a sinister grin on his face, Dave pushes you down on the solid tile — hand still threaded through your hair to ensure your head movement is in his control.

"Look at that, your brain does work. Let's see about that mouth."

Yanking the zipper down, he pulls his semi-hard cock out and slaps it on your cheek, precum smearing slightly. As you eye his cock, you come to the realization that he's slightly bigger than his son at half mast, and you're gonna have to calm yourself to handle a monster like that.

"Are you gonna show me how good you take a cock down your throat? With those dick-sucking porn worthy lips?" Dave peers down at you. He has started to jerk himself to full length, his thumbs barely touching around his width.

"Yes, sir. I am."

The way your eyelids flutter up at him, so docile and unaware of just how vicious Dave intends to be on your needy body. It unlocks that fundamental primal male urge that he normally suppresses during sex.

"Open your mouth, bitch." As your tongue lolls out of your mouth obediently, a dribble of spit going down your chin to your neck to your tits gleams in the soft light. Dave grins as he stuffs two fingers in your mouth, touching at your sensitive uvula. You instantly attempt suppressing your rare gag reflex, body unprepared for his actions. "Nice job, knew you were meant to have your mouth filled."

Dave rips his fingers from you and smears the thick string of saliva across your face — slapping you across the face, rather gentle than before. As he grabs his cock and lines it up with your mouth, you inhale deeply. Seemly more aware of how Dave likes to be. Callous, straight-forward and dominant.

Before you can suck him into your mouth, Dave spits right on his cock — some of it landing on your moisturized lips — just to slam himself down your throat. Your eyes spring open looking up at him, polished hands gripping at his slack-covered thighs. You feel your left over slick on his right pant leg. The taste of his long day is heavy on your tongue as his balls nuzzle at your chin. You're overwhelmed with his scent. The hair at the base of his cock tickles your nose, stud piercing almost getting caught.

"Riiiight there, that's fucking it. What a real fucking whore."

Dave lets his head fall backwards, eyes on the ceiling as he feels you sputter around him, your spit dripping heavily down his balls and onto the tile between his legs. He's unsure on how long he looks upwards, until he feels the digging of your fingertips into him. When he looks down, your eyes are bulging — about to roll into the back of your skull. So he pulls off of you.

Your belligerent cough is almost too loud for comfort, so Dave jerks his cock and plops his full balls into your mouth. And like the eager girl you are, you suck them into your mouth. Licking at the seam between them, letting them bounce off of your tongue. You lick downwards, tonguing at his delicate perineum. That small but dirty act makes him groan loudly. Loud enough for someone on the second floor to hear.

Realizing he's getting too comfortable, he goes back to filling your mouth. Alternating between shallow fucking of the throat and just letting it bulge inside. His big hands wrapping around your neck to jerk himself through the thin hump of protruding skin.

When he hears the shrewd screech of his name from the mouth of his wife downstairs, he pulls out swiftly and yanks you up, hoisting your leg onto the counter. Prodding his cock head at your now unbelievably soaked entrance.

Your mind is hazy and disorientated concerning what's about to happen. You feel like you've barely had any time to process the fact that your father in law is treating you like a common street whore. So, when he pushes into you, a wailing shriek escapes you.

Dave slaps his heavy hand around your mouth from behind, pushing in balls deep but not before releasing a moan of his own.

"Better shut that mouth before I stuff something in there... good god. How is that cunt so damn tight? You're snug around me, guess you're not a slut after all. Tight pussy but loose throat, just how I like it."

Dave proceeds with his relentless thrusts into your aching cunt. You don't remember the last time you were filled so thoroughly. It makes you forget how fucked up this situation truthfully is.

As Dave's cock is slamming into your cervix over and over, you feel your lower stomach tightening. He feels it too. Dave has been holding in his orgasm since you first fell to your knees and gave him those fuck toy eyes. So before you can cum all over him, he grabs you by the neck from the front and puts your ear right by his mouth so he can relay his special message.

"My son told me you've been begging him for a baby... how sweet. You just wanna be a mama, huh? Or maybe, you think having one will fix your relationship. Just reminds me how stupid you are. If a kid could save a marriage, my wife and I would've been happy ever since she pushed that little shit out. But, I'm gonna make it even better for you, sweetheart...."

Dave pushes to the hilt as you cum around him, whimpering behind his hand. Eager to hear his words, simultaneously terrified.

"Gonna cum inside and get you pregnant myself."

You scream into his hand, trying to push him away from you, trying to get yourself away from his spearing cock. All your effort does is push him in deeper, your body going lax at how stuffed you are.

"Don't fight me, angel. Just take it..." You feel his warm cum spilling into you, your body quivering. "Good... so good. I already feel your body sucking up my cum.. eager for it. Eager to be round with your father in law's baby. What will it call me? Grand-dad?" He snickers into your ear as he releases your body. You just lay there, half your limp limbs hanging off the counter.

Dave watches his thick white liquid drip out of you, and down your inner thighs. He pats your ass and tucks himself back into his slacks.

"Don't worry too much. Daniel looks just like me, he'll never find out his kid is actually his half-sibling. That is unless you tell him. You want him to find out you were on your knees being a slut for his, daddy?" Dave questions you. You don't speak a word. Just staring at the piped detailing on the cupboard that holds all the scented detergents.

"Just go, please. So I can clean myself up." Those few begging words take the reminanets of your little energy.

Dave grabs your now wrinkly nightgown and robe, pulling you off the counter so you're forced to stand in front of him. Body spent, his finger prints have left slight indents on various parts of you that you're positive will bruise in the days to come. You realize now, there's no way your husband can see you uncovered for weeks.

"You're gonna put this slutty outfit on and walk your ass into his room, with my cum dripping down your legs. He's been waiting for you, sweetheart."

Your jaw drops at his demand. Disgusted yet your cunt clenches at the filth of it all.

"I thought you said he left?"

Dave just smiles at you like you're a mindless child. You almost fall to the floor in despair at the discovery of what a lying sick bastard Dave has revealed himself to be. You don't know what to do. You've caught yourself up in this twisted game and as of now, there's no way out.

So, you throw the soft lace over your head and run your fingers through your hair attempting to fix your appearance. As you unlock the door, Dave places a gentle hand on your waist and kisses the top of your head. You hear him inhale your scent before he pushes you out of the door and watches you meander to his son's room, a slight limp in your legs.

You look at him, distain on your face as you open the door to find your husband scrolling on his phone. With an arrogant look spread across his face — "Where have you been?"

Dave hears the click of the door lock setting in place. As he walks towards the stairwell, he can't help but laugh at the memory of his vasectomy he received many years ago.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[harryslittlefreakk]

the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️ Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: F L U F F, a little saucy

Description: Domestic moments with Husband!Alastor when you two were alive ❤️

When you two were alive, it could sometimes be difficult to get a moment alone together due to your work schedules and other commitments

Not out of any lack of desire though, you both desperately wanted time together as a couple

Sometimes, on sunny days, Alastor would ditch the radio show to spend quality time with you. The two of you doing yard and housework together ❤️

Or he'll relax in a hammock outside, eyes closed, peaceful smile on his face and sunbathing without a care in the world. Unbeknownst to you, he's fondly watching your every move and waiting for you to come closer

You'll find yourself suddenly snatched up and pulled into his lap as you walk by, left with no choice but give in and let his strong arms hold you close

Not that you really mind, nuzzling under his chin and laying on top of him, your body practically melting as you relax

"You could've just said you wanted to snuggle, Alastor~"

He doesn't bother opening his eyes, his long fingers running through your hair soothingly as his other hand caresses your back

"I much prefer to keep you on your toes, my love~"

He soaks in the gentle kisses you place along his jaw and throat, completely content to lay there with you all day

It wouldn't be the first time you two spent the night in the hammock together

Or if he comes home to see you doing the dishes, Alastor can't help but hug you from behind. Pulling you back against him as he rests his chin on your shoulder

You can't help but let out a pleased hum as you lean back and try to catch his lips for a kiss, pouting when he teases you and flicking dish soap at him

It only makes him laugh and grab your jaw, guiding your lips to his own so he can give you a proper kiss before reluctantly pulling away

"Here darling, let me help you so we can relax together a little faster..."

He gives you a happy squeeze before settling in next to you, rolling up his sleeves and helping you by drying off whatever you hand him

You're reading a book on the couch? He wants you to sit in his lap, pulling you close and resting his head against you while he listens to the radio

Though how you can concentrate on your book with his thumb rubbing innocently on your hip and lips vibrating against your head as he hums is beyond me

You're reaching for something on the top shelf? He suddenly plucks it away and holds it up above your head, his grin is devilish as you stretch and grasp for it

He only gives it back once you plead and give him a kiss, only to steal it away for a second time because he's a greedy man who wants more kisses from you

"Alastor!!"

"Just one more kiss, darling~ Then I promise to return it this time~"

Sometimes, when you're deep in thought, you'll fiddle with your wedding ring and it always catches Alastor's eye. The sight of it fills him with pride and happiness at the memories it brings

He'll catch your wrist and startle you out of your thoughts, pressing his lips gently against your ring, then your fingers, then your wrist...

Before you know it, you're stuck between your husband and the wall, getting the life kissed out of you. Not that you mind, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks and keep him from pulling away

Not that he plans to, not anytime soon...

You secretly love it when his glasses get dirty, peering curiously at his face and reaching for them, enjoying the soft blush on his cheeks

"Tsk~ Tsk~ You've got a bit of something right here...~"

Alastor can't help but stare as you wipe off his lenses, treating them as if they're something precious. His entire face tingles pleasantly as you slide them back on for him

"Ahem! Thank you, my dear..."

He's definitely not blushing because his wife cleaned his glasses for him, or because you kissed his nose afterwards 😤

On days when he's feeling particularly needy, Alastor will sometimes purposefully put his bow tie on just a smidge crooked.

He'll feign embarrassment as you fuss and readjust it for him, wiping off and straightening the rest of his outfit for him as you do

He loves it when you dote on him, rewarding you afterwards by drawing you in by your hips and kissing you breathless

"You're a lifesaver, darling~ I'd be such a mess without you~"

If he can, Alastor will go on nightly walks with you. Using the darkness as an excuse to hold you close to him and the stars as a romantic conversation piece

He's a genius 👏 🙌 👌

His heart melts when you sigh happily and rest your head against him, eyes on the sky. Your warm embrace on his arm makes him relax and nuzzle his face into your hair

Only to be caught by surprise when you suddenly place your hand on his cheek and guide his face towards your own, lips nearly touching

"It's such a beautiful night, Alastor...thank you for taking the time to do this with me."

The sight of the gentle blush on your face along with the proximity of your lips is enough to get his own blush going. His pulls you in closer instinctively, both arms wrapping around you

"I should be the one thanking you, my darling wife..."

You're both leaning in for the kiss only to have the moment ruined by a stray cat jumping out of the bushes and startling to two of you. Alastor jumping from surprise and you glomping onto your husband

Your combined efforts makes you both stumble and fall, Alastor holding you tightly as you both hit the ground and stare at the cat as it runs down the street away from you

The two of you stare at each other in silence before bursting into laughter and embracing each other tightly, wiping dirt smudges and pulling leaves off of each other.

Sometimes, Alastor will show up at your work to bring you lunch and flowers. It's definitely not as an excuse to remind everyone that you're married to HIM.

He just worries that the men you work with forget that you're happily married

Will absolutely dote on you and be over the top in praising you, touching you and helping you. All while looking like the most smug bastard in the room

It's all very obvious but still makes you swoon and blush every time

Going to bed with Alastor has to be one of the most rewarding things about being married to him though

Something about being under the blankets with him, one arm wrapped loosely around you and your head on his chest

Listening to his heartbeat and taking in his scent as you drift off to sleep with your husband under your body

To periodically wake up trapped in his embrace only to be lulled back to sleep by his soft snoring

Sometimes you wake up in the same position you fell asleep in, and other times you wake up under him, his face buried in your neck

Things like that are just things that the two of you have never gotten tired of experiencing together. No matter how many years you've spent together in hell

In fact, you both seem to cherish those domestic moments together just a little bit more now than ever ❤️

Little things I've just been thinking about lately 🥰

[intoxicated-chan]

Late Night Moments with Miguel O’Hara

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ It was normal for Miguel to return home late, you weren’t surprised by his usual entrance through your bedroom window. But what you did enjoy when he came home late is the little routine the two of you have.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ This is a mixture of a fic and headcanons of mine. Miguel is plaguing my mind, I’ve already got two stories in the works. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! And requests will be open soon!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 533

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Gender neutral reader, heavy fluff, light blood, injuries, bruises, mentions of violence…

It starts with a few taps on your window, the taps play in a certain pattern so you know who it is. A few seconds later, the window slides open and in comes Miguel dressed in his Spider-Man costume. He enters with a huff as he closes the window and makes sure it’s locked.

Next, he welcomes you with a tight hug, holding you for a few minutes before you ask if he’d like to get cleaned up. It’s always a hot shower when he comes home, soothing his muscles from the hours of fighting and swinging around.

You can see the bruises and cuts on his skin but it always made him happy when you kissed every single one of them, it made him feel better about himself which is why he enjoyed your touch so much.

Depending on the day (or night), if Miguel had an awful night, then instead of a shower, it’ll be a hot bath. You leaned back as he layed in your arms. He used to think taking baths were childish but he now enjoys them. It’s your favorite because you get to pamper him, especially washing his hair.

Then came drying off. He’d usually leave his hair dripping wet but sometimes he lets you towel dry his hair, maybe style it. Then changing clothes.

Then came his wounds. Bandaging them up as carefully as possible so you don’t cause Miguel more pain. You then kiss all of them again when you finish, “All done!” You smile.

Next, it’s either staying up even later or going straight to bed. If he’s feeling hungry then he’d make food for the two of you, if he doesn’t feel tired then it’s a movie night.

But in the end they always end the same. Holding each other tightly. Basically the face-to-face embrace.

He always needs to know that you’re with him. There were nights where he awoke without you there, he immediately panics. Which is why if you need to use the bathroom, you’re gonna have to wake him up to tell him where you’re going.

Movie nights are interesting. He likes picking out horror movies so he can feel you holding onto him for safety. He says he hates rom coms but he loves them deep down. Then there’s comedy movies when he or you needs a laugh.

Nights where he decides to cook, he likes to share food from his heritage and it always makes him smile when you’re willing to learn how to make it.

But one thing he hates is that if he has work that still needs to be done, he tries to finish as quickly as possible but he’s not gonna lie, there are some nights where he forgets to take care of himself.

That’s when you come in, having Lyla remind him to drink water, coming into his home office to bring him some food and maybe cuddle on his lap for a few minutes before getting back to work.

But this time, when he’s finished, he goes straight to you. Too tired to even change his clothes, he immediately falls asleep.

It is nights like these where Miguel finally feels at peace.

© 2033 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part IV

1 2 3 4 5 6

Simon doesn't cry. The last time he cried was out of shock, coming home to see his entire family executed by who he thought were his allies, his friends, his comrades. Simon doesn't cry, but you can see how broken his soul is in the way his hands delicately hold you close to him. You can feel it in the way his heart is beating fast in your ear, his lips pressing gentle kisses on the top of your head while you're barely conscious, too tired from the late-night conversation you had with him.

The man who broke you a year ago is the same man whose touch pieces your soul together, his warm hands doing nothing but serve as a reassurance that he's here. He's here, alive, and he's not going anywhere. Not anymore.

He waits until you're snoring softly to gently settle you back down in bed, taking one last look at your peaceful sleeping expression before getting up from bed slowly, leaving the room and walking in the dark towards his baby's room. He closes the door behind him, approaching the crib with footsteps so quiet one would think he's still the ghost, but he's not, not when he's here. He's just Simon.

"Hey, sweet girl." He greets in a whisper, leaning down in front of the crib to look at his daughter. What a fucking sight, he thinks; brown eyes focused on the way his tiny girl is holding a bunny plushie close to her, wearing the skull pattern pajamas he bought her a few weeks ago. Simon has strong genes— the baby looks like a girly replica of him, her dark brown hair framing her pretty face, nose slightly rosy from the cold. He adjusts her beanie, lifting the blanket enough so more of her body can be covered even while she's asleep. His hand hesitates when he feels the baby stirring awake, taking a step back before her brown eyes open, peering at him.

"Good morning, sweetheart." He whispers, afraid to wake you up even while you're an entire room away. His big hands reach out for the baby, cradling her in his arms as he walks around the house until he reaches the living room, not bothering to turn on the light to not bother his baby. She's calm— not crying, simply babbling as she looks up at him, her hands balled into fists, too used to holding something. Simon can feel her tiny nails digging into his bare chest, yet he doesn't mind, gently rocking his girl under the comfort of the dark living room, the moonlight illuminating enough so they can both look at each other.

"Papa." His heart almost stops when he hears the little girl say her first word, looking down at her with wide eyes and a proud smile. He almost thinks he imagined it until she repeats it louder, tiny hands pulling on his dog tags. His hand dwarfs the baby's head as he presses her closer to his bare chest, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of her tiny body against his. He never thought he'd be a father— hell, the idea itself never went through his head even when his family was alive, yet ever since he first saw his baby girl? Simon fell in love.

"Papa's here, Astrid." He plants a gentle kiss on her forehead, her tiny balled up hands now holding his cheeks and pulling slightly on the stubble, making him groan in pain, something she finds amusing, a cheeky giggle coming out of her.

"Gentle." He reminds her, pulling her away so she's not able to keep torturing his scarred cheeks. He smiles down at her, one of his hands coming up to gently pinch her chubby cheeks, another giggle coming out of the tiny girl. She’s an angel— rarely cries and is always giggling, her gummy smile full on display for anyone lucky enough to see her.

His pretty angel. A split image of everything Simon could have been if he had a normal family and rather than feeling bitter about it, he feels happy. Happy to be able to see her grow, to give her and you the life you both deserve, even if you're not together.

He lays down on the couch with the baby resting on his chest, the chain and metal of his dog tags enough to keep her distracted as he admires her under the moonlight seeping through the window, wanting to memorize every single detail on her tiny face. The pain of losing a second brother to him is still there, yet this tiny girl heals his soul and gives him hope.

Johnny would have loved you. He thinks as he looks at her, imagining Johnny playing with his baby. A quiet chuckle escapes his lips as he thinks of the tiny girl pulling on his mowkhawk, her bad habit of pulling on people's hair something he became too familiar with, his buzzcut not saving him from his baby's surprisingly strong grip. His mind inevitably goes back to his family, thinking of Joseph playing with his baby, of Tommy experiencing being an uncle, or Beth and his mum gossiping with you while looking at Simon, proud smiles in their faces. He can't help the way his eyes sting, slightly rimming with tears in the company of his baby.

His eyes close as he takes a deep breath, allowing a stray tear to roll down his cheek while the rest dots his long eyelashes. His hand plays with his little girl's hair, the other one firmly holding her close to his bare chest while she babbles on, her innocence a complete contrast to who he is.

"Mum?" He begins, eyes still closed and voice shaky.

"This is my baby, Astrid. She's four months old... lovely girl, ain't she?" He speaks quietly to nothing, imagining his mum is there, watching over him, a bright smile on her lips.

"I still haven't won her mum over, but I'm trying. I'm gonna marry this girl, mummy, I know I will." Simon doesn't cry, but his stomach muscles tense as he holds back a sob, not wanting to startle the baby resting on him. Her silence finally makes his eyes open, tear-rimmed circles of darkness softening when he sees the peaceful sleeping expression on his baby.

"I love you so much." He confesses in a whisper, his short nails gently massaging her scalp, his warm chest working as a personal heater for the sleeping baby. His back is starting to hurt but he's not going to risk waking the girl up, simply closing his eyes again and focusing on getting some sleep. With how badly he has been sleeping since he came back, he doesn't even realize when he drifted off to sleep, only being awoken hours later by the smell of pancakes and tea.

He looks down at his chest, finding a blanket covering him, but no sight of his baby. That's enough to send him in a panic, immediately getting up and looking around the living room, his fast-beating heart only slowing down once he sees the baby sitting on a highchair in the kitchen, your back turned to him as you hum and prepare breakfast.

"Bloody hell— you scared the shit out of me." He lets out a deep breath, trying his best to calm down as he starts walking towards you, one of his hands resting on your waist as you look over your shoulder and shoot him a cheeky grin.

"You scared the shit out of me when I saw the empty crib." He gives you an apologetic smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head and laughing as he narrowly misses the kick thrown to his arse.

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taglist:@skulfan1 @survivalshxt @ghostslittlegf @yaebaal @thecubanator2 @juliediets @shescabob @kenz-ee @lothiriel9 @dragonstoneshortcake @lunamoonbby @alfie2401 @perfectus-in-morte @mxtokko @cloufie @killergoddess97 @imaracoon @thepurpleaccount

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader

Summary: The birth of his first child changes everything for the rough around the edges military man. A small glimpse into his life now as a father.

Word Count: 3 k

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of being pregnant, just sweetness.

Heavy eyes blinking, trying to adjust to the darkness flooding the room, Simon drifted back into consciousness. Intaking a full, deep breath, he filled lungs with the calm air around the bedroom as he came back into his body from out of sleep. Turning his head towards the nightstand besides the bed, sight searching he finally found his target. Bright red numbers glared back at him from the cheap alarm clock sitting on the top as they cut through the night to tell him the time: it was still the middle of the night.

He was no stranger to insomnia and had made peace with it long ago. It was just a part of his routine now, though these days it seemed to benefit him more than hinder as his life was changing. Another deep breath he inhaled as he rubbed his bare chest with his hand, itching a place between his pectorals; he was completely awake now. 

Turning back over, a muted smile spread across his lips as he caught your form laying next to him in the bed under the covers. Your body was faced towards him, head buried in your pillow with the covers pulled up to your chest, your hair laying haphazardly around your face like a veil. Gentle eyes watched your shoulders move ever so slightly up and down with the slow, steady pattern of your breathing. He always looked on you as if you were the only reason he knew what love was.

Because you were.

A rushing swell of emotion filled his heart as he looked upon the best fucking thing that ever had happened to him resting so peacefully. It made the hardened military man happy to know that he could create an environment where you felt safe enough to sleep so deeply, not a worry on your mind because you knew he would be there if anything happened. With careful fingers, Simon reached across the minuscule distance to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and out of your eyes.

You did not even stir as he grazed those rough fingertips across your delicate cheek; the past couple of weeks had been a whirlwind of excitement and chaos and even though he knew you wouldn’t change a second of it, it still left you exhausted. Even more careful, he leaned his face in and gave your temple a quick peck, letting his lips linger against your silky skin a moment to breath in your scent before rolling back over to get out of bed. 

Each step was strategic to be certain that you didn’t wake; you needed to rest and he wasn’t about to disrupt that. He had just made it out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him when he heard a rustling and the beginnings of a small cry coming from the other room. Quickly and silently he moved through the hall of your mid-sized flat, over to the other bedroom where the door stood slightly ajar.

“Shhh… hey now,” Simon whispered quiet words of comfort as he moved into the room and towards the crib that was situated against the far wall where a tiny bundle that lay inside was just stirring from sleep. Again his heartstrings were plucked as he peered over the railing to what lay inside, his gaze falling upon a little girl- his little girl.

Scooping the infant up into his protective arms, his skin still nice and warm from sleep, he brought her up and cradled her snugly against his bare chest. “Let’s let your mum sleep, yeah?” he smiled down at his daughter. “You’ve taken a lot out of her the past several days, luv, but don’t worry, dad’s gotcha.”

Soon it’d be time to feed the little one and Simon would have to bring her to you, but right now all he wanted was to sit with the only other being in his life that had a permanent place in his heart. Grabbing her a blanket, they both moved over towards the rocking chair where he gingerly took a seat while making sure he had her secure in his embrace. There he sat, the tiny babe curled up on his bare chest under her blanket as he rocked them both back and forth.

One large hand on her back while the other cradled under her bottom for support, Simon delicately stroked his sweet girl’s back to sooth her sad whimpers. Slow, even caresses helped her to relax in his arms and a low hum that vibrated through his chest from some tune soothed her the rest of the way down. It wasn’t long before the motion of the chair and his tender touch lulled her back into a calm and he leaned down to place a kiss to the top of that small head as she let out a quiet coo like a dove. 

“See? I told ya; dad has ya, princess,” he murmured against the few strands of hair that covered her head. 

His touch was so gentle with her, so painstakingly careful as if he were afraid that one wrong move and he would break her. Those hands had touched so much death, dealt so much too, and he worried that he could never hold something so precious within their grasp without destroying it or tainting it in some way. And each touch of his hand had to be with a heart full of love for the little girl; that was the only way.

Anxious thoughts secretly kept him up at night for months before she was born, worries that somehow he would turn out to be just like his father, that he would somehow look at this tiny thing and transform into a monster. But the minute he heard that cry as she took her first breath in this world, all those fears seemed to evaporate into thin air; he was completely smitten with her and knew he would do anything to protect her. She would want for nothing, not as long as he was around.

Moving the baby off his chest and into his hands, he cradled her so that he could look into her face. So much of himself he saw in her tiny features it nearly brought him to tears: she had his nose, a halo of wispy blonde hair, his amber eyes. As he looked down at his little girl, so small and fragile, his could feel his heart nearly burst at the seams with all the love her had for her; his heart was so full of her that he could hardly call it his own anymore. It was like someone had taken the best parts of him and the best parts of you and made a perfect doll that he would get to cherish for her whole life.

How could something as pure as this come from a part of him? It was like magic, that somehow out of all the chaos and loss and struggle he had endured over his entire life she came, like a being made out of starlight that would always help him find his way out of the darkness. She was his miracle that came without warning, that he never knew he needed until he had her.

“I can’t believe you’re mine, princess,” he whispered lovingly to her calm, sleeping face as she snuggled into his hands. “Even when your mum told me she was pregnant with ya, I couldn’ believe I played a part in making something so damn wonderful. I mean, me with a kid? It seemed such a crazy thing. No one would have believed it, especially me, but now that you’re here I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Ya deserve everythin’ in this world, luv, and I promise I will work my whole life to give it to ya.”

Wherever life took him, whatever he had to do, there would be nothing that would stop him from giving everything he had to this little slice of heaven he created here with you. This was the only thing he could ever want now and it all started when a girl with a smile that could rival the sun took a chance on a man that felt like he had died long ago. You brought him back from the brink and now he had an abundance of reasons to keep on living. 

In the middle of his chaos were you and his child and that was enough.

Picking up his daughter, her little legs scrunching up against her tummy, he brought her face to his lips and kissed her chubby cheeks before he rested her back over his heart. “I love ya, my little princess,” he said, “and I always will.”

***Over a year later***

A little chubby-cheeked girl sat on the floor of the living room playing with her toys, her wispy blonde hair tied up into mini pigtails on top of her head. It was getting late, but she couldn’t go to bed just yet…there was one more thing that waited for her to end the day. Joyfully she babbled away to herself in her own little world as she went about stacking and destroying a set of blocks until the sound of the front door opening caught her attention.

Immediately those autumn-colored eyes shot straight up as her sparcely-toothed smile lit up her entire face and spread from ear to ear for the person who had just walked in came into her view. 

“Dada, dada,” she babbled excitedly as she struggled to her roly-poly short legs to toddle towards the sound. Her tiny arms reached up towards the figure, hands clasping together open and close repeatedly as a nonverbal request for the tall, hulking man currently setting down his things before crossing the floor to come and pick her up.

“ ‘ello sweetpea,” Simon’s gruff voice greeted her while a smile to match her own hit his lips the moment he caught sight of her. Quickly he bent down and scooped the child up into his arms, holding her in his full embrace. Instantly she wrapped her own short limbs around his neck and held him with all her tiny might as if transferring all her love into him.

“Tiss, dada, tiss,” she bounced up and down in his embrace and he was more than ready to oblige, kissing those rosy, flushed cheeks over and over to make her squeal excitedly with laughter. That didn’t take much since her favorite person in the entire world was home and that made her so giddy she couldn’t stand still.  

“How’s my princess today, hmmm? Did ya run mum ragged?”

Oh boy did she have a lot to tell her father about the goings on of her day, rambling on in her limited vocabulary as Simon listened attentively, nodding along as she spoke animatedly about how she saw a dah-ug (dog) today when she went with you in the tawr (car) to the staur (store); from the moment she said her first word, which could have been nothing else than ‘dada’, she had to share her entire day with him and he was more than thrilled to hear it all every single time. 

God, the way that little girl looked at him like he set the stars made all the stressors of even the most miserable day instantly melt away. He was her whole world in more ways than one. Who knew something so small and fragile could have the most significant impact on his life? Who could have ever know that when she came that he would get such a wonderful gift to cherish?

As she finished up her tirade, his eyeline was drawn over to you as you slowly and carefully moved up off your place on the floor and onto your feet to come stand beside him and your daughter. One of those big, strong arms meant for you latched around your waist and pulled you towards him where his lips were waiting to place a kiss to your own; both of his girls safe in his protective grasp. 

This, this was home.

“Was she good today?” he asked as your mouths parted. 

There was mischief in your eyes, your mouth tightening to not give you away by spreading into a smile. “Oh she was an absolutely…terror,” you picked, laughing as you watched that pronounced scowl furrow his brow and instantly cloud his features as his eyes narrowed. No one was to talk bad about his little girl and how dare you even try to suggest that she was anything other than perfect. 

Turning back to his daughter, he situated her better upon his hip. “Mums lyin’ on ya, ain’t she?” he asked, ignoring your smirk and eye roll as he gave her another slew of kisses across her face that sent her squealing again. “I know my sweet Anna would neva be anythin’ other than a perfect princess.”

“Pincess,” Anna repeated through her giggles as she patted her chest. “Dada pincess.”

A phrase she heard so often from him throughout her short year and some change on this earth that she already recited it perfectly and Simon’s heart nearly burst at the seams every time she uttered it because she was and would always be his sweet princess, the one who came to save him, the one he would move heaven and hell for without a single qualm. 

“That’s right, ya are dad’s princess,” he smiled as he had to swallow back the lump of emotion in his throat. 

The way she could always immediately and consistently break down those walls that he had kept up for so many years was a thing of magic. There was no possible way for her to know the amount of struggling it took for him to become this gentle after all he had endured, how he had to burn himself nearly whole and rise anew from the ashes, but by God he would do it all again just for her and for you. 

Silently you watched the two of them interact, the love pouring out of Simon like a fountain, and your breath hitched as you realized how lucky you all were. He held on to that little girl the same as he always had: as if she were the most sacred thing in the whole entire world and to him in his world she was just that. Breaking you out of your thoughts, he pulled you back in for another quick kiss; there were things to get done as it was already getting late. 

“You ready for a bath?” he asked Anna and she happily nodded back.

“Baff, baff,” she repeated. 

She was probably the only kid in the world that looked forward to bath time and bed because that was the time she got to spend with the person she was always missing the most. There was only a few more days till the weekend when Simon could spend more time with her, but for now these little moments were just enough to get them both through.

The sounds of splashing and laughter wafted from the bathroom as you took a tired seat on the sofa: Simon’s low gravely, subdued chuckling being accentuated with Anna’s light, higher pitched squeals of glee. There was no better sound in the whole world than the two of them together and you prayed that no matter how old you got or how your memories faded, that the music of them would remain something locked up tight that you would always be able to recall.  

“ ‘ere she comes,” Simon called out to you as a naked baby wrapped in just a towel toddled her way over to you and jumped into your arms to tell you ‘noo nie mum’ (goodnight mum) before that burly man came after her, scooping her up and whisking her away to get dressed so that she could start to get sleepy.

Picking out a pair of pink footie pajamas with little flowers on them, he grabbed her blanket and a picture book off the shelf, making sure the lights were low before making his way with Anna in his arms to the rocking chair in the corner of her room. 

Back and forth, back and forth, he slowly moved them as he read aloud about a very very hungry caterpillar, letting her chubby fingers glide over the pages as he laid out the story just as he had done countless nights before until her little head began to bob and her eyes flutter. 

Setting the book down he held her against his chest, letting the rhythmic beating of his heart along with the rocking of their bodies in the chair to lull her into deep sleep. It seemed like only yesterday she was able to hold her in just his hands and now she was big enough to lay across almost the entirety of his chest. 

"You're growin' up so fast princess," he whispered so softly it was barely audible. "I wish I could just stop time for a bit."

It stung his heart how sad it was that time seemed to be slipping through his fingers like sand through a sieve, but in the same breath he had to remark on how wonderful and breathtaking it was to see all the best of him and you reflected in the amazing little girl she was growing in to. 

As he laid her down into her bed, he gently moved the fine strands of hair off her warm forehead to place a delicate kiss to her temple. “Sweet dreams, my sweet princess,” he whispered against her skin as her chest rose and fell at a slow pace while she drifted off into dreamland. “Remember, dad’s always here to keep ya safe.”

With quiet, easy steps he walked out of her bedroom and closed the door, another day that made it all worth waking up for. Sauntering back into the living room after having changed his clothes, he took his place beside you on the couch, pulling you into his arms and against his chest; he could always shower later, time spent with you both was far more important than all that.  

“I think I’m gettin’ the hang of this,” Simon smiled against your lips, letting them linger over the soft flesh a moment more. “We did pretty fuckin’ good with our little girl, didn’t we luv?” 

 You turned your head and held his soft gaze. "We sure did," you agreed. 

Taking his hand and placing it to the back of your head, he brought your face to his to rest your forehead against one another. "It was all because of ya that I have all this fuckin' happiness," he said with eyes closed as he breathed you in. "Ya both gave me a life I never thought I deserved."

"You deserve it all, Simon. Every once of it."

Leaning in the miniscule distance between your mouths, you met his lips with your own and he embraced them back as if to say 'thank you'. 

“Think we can do it again?” you asked, breaking the kiss gently.

Simon lowered his gaze and moved his hand to your abdomen, cupping over the small swell of your belly and giving it a loving rub. You had just barely started to show as this second little surprise still had some time in the making, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t excited to see what this next chapter would bring. Was it a little sooner than expected? Sure, but Simon knew now that there was nothing the two of you couldn’t face together or that he would do for the ones he loved. 

“Aye, I think we’ll manage just fine, luv.”

[totallybakedcake]

Boyfriend headcanons kaiju no 8 boys

Reno

Whenever you both are outside training or near anyone, he does nothing more affectionate than holding your hand at most, but when you both are at home, he does not let go of you. Back hugging you and snuggling into you. It's his favorite thing to do.

He loves to be the little spoon while cuddling. He always wants to be in your embrace while sleeping, or else he cannot sleep all night. "Name, can we please cuddle? I had a rough day." He says in such an adorable voice that how could you deny him?

He is a great cook and always makes you mouth-watering dishes to eat all day. He just loves seeing you enjoy his dishes and eat them so cutely.

He loves at-home dates. He just loves watching any movies, shows, or anime you want to watch as he cuddles you. When you both had your anniversary and you were in the mood for something fancy, he decorated the living room with flowers, teddy bears, chocolates, and gifts to surprise you. 

Hoshina

He absolutely loves it when you pamper him with all your affection. Cupping his face. Giving him onslaught kisses, burying your head in his neck. Whenever he thinks about that, His day becomes one of the best.

Hoshina is an overly protective boyfriend. The moment he comes home, he checks your body for any wounds. Whenever he even sees you interact with one of the juniors, he makes sure the both of you don't talk for more than 3 minutes, or else the game is over. He makes sure you feel safe and protective.

Hoshina loves giving you a flower and chocolate every day. He always has a bundle of chocolates with him and goes to a local flower shop to get you any cute flower.

He loves picnic dates and afternoon dates. He loves to take you to a quiet park. Lay down a blanket and rest in your lap as you and him talk for hours and hours. Picnic dates are usually in the morning, as he likes to take you out on brunches too. 

Kafka

He is the most affectionate boyfriend. He gives you many warm hugs every day. He loves to kiss your temple as you relax on top of him.

He loves hearing you talk. Your voice is just so comforting. He brings you to his lap and burys his face in your neck as you talk about anything.

He does not show his jealous side, as he knows you are loyal to him, but one thing he makes sure of is that you have a healthy routine. If he does not know that you have eaten well, slept well, and are drinking plenty of water, he has to check up on you because his mind keeps thinking about you.

Even though he does not look like it. Kafka is a fancy man. He takes you out to fancy restaurants to eat at on dates. He always has a private reservation ready for you and him. After all, your happiness is Kafka's happiness.

Gen

Gen has made you obsessed with gaming too. After all, games are addicting. He got you all kinds of gaming consoles and game figures to play with him.

A lot, meaning everyone asks you. Why choose Gen? An irresponsible captain who has such an attitude and is careless, but what they haven't seen is Gen's soft side. He makes sure you are okay. He cannot focus on anything unless you are safe. Once on a Kaiju mission when you got injured. Gen stayed up all night. Not touching his games or electronics once, as he needed to take care of you and make sure you were safe. Not letting you go on a mission unless you are recovered.

Even if he is loyal. He is the most jealous person ever. He knows your beauty and your aura, which makes people gravitate towards you. So, he makes sure to have you near him at all times, not letting you even talk to a guy in peace.

He loves arcade dates and karaoke dates, but if you don't want to go there, He takes you to amusement parks and water parks. Gen loves an adventure.

Hey yall. First ever post on tumblr so the writing may be tacky and awkward cause I wrote this in the middle of the night but I couldn't stop myself from writing for kaiju no 8 after finishing the whole manga in 4 days.

Have a great day!

[writingoddess1125]

how would the old men of the sea react to y/n asking them to join them in the bath tub?

I gotcha Sweety Pop! 🍭

Buy me a Ko-Fi ☕️

Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy x ReaderGN

🫧 Join Me? 🫧

Spicy Themes! + Fluff

Buggy

You lay in the large copper bath with a happy sigh, the sweet smell of lavender bubble bath filling the room as you relaxed heavily. You didn't get much time like this to yourself especially on Buggy's ship. Being the main one to keep the place at some semblance or order.

You sigh and lean back to close your eyes and drifr off. Before you hear your door being roughly busted into-

"(Y/N)! Did you approve for them to paint the sky background light blue for the stage peice I wa- wa.. You're uh-" Buggy stopped at his rant as he saw you in the bubble bath, Calmly blinking up at him as he stopped mid rant.

"Captian? Are you okay?" You calmly ask, seeing how red his face was under his grease paint. He turned away quickly.

"I didn't know you were in the bath! I-I was just coming in for-" you wave off his yelling almost-apology. Knowing this was just what he did when flustered, Sitting up more you smirked at your Captian deciding to tease more.

"Wanna join me?~"

You offer, his eyes locking on you quickly like you had just grown a second head. Nodding rapidly and without even saying anything he was already stripping down to nothing like the clothes were the enemy and flinging them away even using the Chop Chop abilities to strip faster.

You laugh as the man almost swan diving into the water and getting real close with a crooked grin, the makeup already melting off his handsome face and eyes shimmering in mischief. He will defiently not keep this innocent for long-

Shanks

You and your crew had taken a stop on a empty island while sailing for the grand line. Choosing to party here and enjoy a few days of laying low before setting sail in a few days.

You would be taking a midnight dip in a nearby stream- enjoying the nice cool water on your skin as you take the time to wash up.

You heard the sound of rustling from the brush next to the stream and look up quickly- seeing your Captian, Red Haired Shanks stumble through the brush, his cheeks red from the booze as he looked around confused- blushing at the sight of you in the water.

"Ah sorry Sweety didn't mean to stumble on ya!" Shanks said with a chuckle, looking away shyly at catching you in this state.

You giggle at this and sink into the water yo cover yourself, the alcohol still flowing in your own system.

"It's alright Cap just enjoying the water. Well why don't you join me? Its cool in here" You offer, feeling way more bold then normal-

Not catching the giddy smile from Shanks as he sets down the rum bottle and starts to disrobe. Jumping in right after you with a smile as he swims to catch up to you.

"Don't mind if I do (Y/N)!-" He will chime and defienly take the chance to swim close to you. Alcohol defiently playing a part in whatever happened that night.

Mihawk

You where in the main bathhouse of Mihawk's Palace in Kuraigana Island. It was a massive room filled with amazing mineral water- it was quite heavenly in truth.

You floated in the water for a bit, fully frontal on the top of the water in pure relation. Which was cut short when the door opened... Your eyes widened and looked up quickly from your floating full frontal to see Mihawk holding a towel and fresh clothes with wide eyes seeing you like this.

He stared at you in shock at seeing you like this, slowly he started to close the door. As you sank into the water to cover yourself-

"W-Wait! Mihawk do you want to maybe join me?" You stutter out shyly as you stare at him. Blushing at your own boldness for asking such a thing- He paused his own movements, before slowly nodding and stepping into the bathhouse fully. You turned away to be respectful at this so he could undress in peace- however you did see his reflection from the polished walls you were looking at and blushed at what you saw.

Gwad Damn!!

Hearing him get into the water you didn't dare to glance back till you felt something warm appear behind you- Glancing up to see Mihawk standing right before you, His eyes practically glowing as he stood with his chest pressed against you a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

"Embarrassed Darling?"

You will leave that bathtub dirtier then when you arrived.

[cupcakeinat0r]

Thinkin abt DadBod!Miguel… once again…

You were the lucky girl that pulled Miguel n had him wrapped around your lil finger.

As much as he didn’t like to show it publicly, the man was whipped. By the means of your affectionate love, Miguel actually began to take better care of himself, resulting in happy boyfriend weight gain.

As time went on, you’d noticed those changes: Thicker thighs, fatter ass, pecs are perkier, and a soft pouch that you’d feel up when you removed his shirt during hot, open-mouthed make-out sessions.

Miguel was a little surprised to find that you loved it, and since then, has taken advantage of this information.

Now, he proudly walks around shirtless, in nothing but grey sweatpants or even boxers sometimes. He thought he was slick by acting coy, but you knew that he knew that you get wet just by the sight of his brawny, hairy muscles, or that muffin top he had going on… and that happy trail…

Then he’d give you that smirk when he caught you staring, making fun of you when he did. And when he sees that you’re a blushing mess, he attacks you with kisses, you swatting him away but it’s no use; he’s already caged you under him on the couch, the both of you breaking into a fit of giggles.

Today, it’s early in the morning. He didn’t have to be at the society until a little later, so you made the best use of the rare time you had together and made him some breakfast. After he was done eating, the two of you cuddled on the couch for the remainder of his free time.

He was sprawled out on the couch (almost too small for him) with your body on top of his. Your head lays on his chest, the hair there slightly tickling your skin. His strong hands rub your back oh so gently, making you drift away. Miguel occasionally kisses the top of your head as he himself doze off as well. Just when the two of you are about to fall asleep, his watch on the coffee table goes off.

“mierda—“ he groans, immediately going to snooze the loud, annoying alarm. You lift your head with a ‘mph’, your body grieving the loss of a peaceful moment between the both to you. “Already?” You look up at him with the saddest puppy dog eyes, ones that break his heart.

“I know, mama, I know, I’m sorry, but y’know I have to go.” He tuts. Like as if you were made of porcelain, he gently pries you off of him, but you refuse. “Just call in, baaaabe.”

Miguel feels you grab onto him tighter, and he lays back on his elbows in regret, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, mamita. I gotta go, mama, c’mon.”

“But baaaaabyyyyy.” You pout.

“Beba, tu sabes que yo quiero quedarme contigo, pero I simply can’t.” He really did hate having to say bye to you. He used to never wanna leave the lab, but now he counts down to the seconds until he gets to come home to your arms.

“Just a few more minutes?” You lift your head from his chest again, giving him those eyes that could get you anything.

“Beba, por favor-“ he knits his brows. He was cracking.

“Pleeeeeeaaasse?” You pout your bottom lip, “We haven’t had a day like this in forever, babe. Besides, you work so hard already…”

You place and subtly push your hands on his chest, and to your surprise, he lays back on the couch, wanting to hear what else you have to say, and maybe see what mischievous plan you had this time.

He could spare a minute or two, it won’t hurt… right?

“You deserve a day off, no?” Your voice becomes softer, more sensual as you peel yourself from his body and straddle not on his waist, but his stomach. Miguel’s consciousness is slipping.

Miguel’s hands instinctively go to rest on your hips, which have started to vaguely grind on his belly.

You were clever. By teasing Miguel and grinding against his stomach, merely inches from his fat cock, you knew you’d have him crumble under you in no time. “Well… do you?” You ask again, raising your eyebrow. You know it was working.

His eyes are now laser focused on the triangle of your panties, now marked with a wet spot, rubbing against his mid section. In his mind, he’s practically fighting for his life between going to work or letting you keep doing what you’re doing and so far… what his eyes are stuck on is winning.

“fuck, mama… you’re makin’ it real difficult, you know that?” His voice gravels at the sight in front of him. He doesn’t look up, too distracted by your slow thrusts against his soft belly. He hissed as he can feel his own cock rise in his grey sweats, precum bleeding through, no doubt.

“Baby, just stay, just for today… please?” Your breathy tone goes straight to his aching dick, pushing him over the edge from staying or going.

Hungry, Miguel licks his lips just as he takes one of his hands, hooking his pointer finger on one side of the triangle of your panties, pulling it aside so that nothing separated your wet heat and his fluffy stomach. He let out a low sigh and a few curses, watching as you painted his belly with your juices. He’s not even in you, but he could cum just from this.

“Aw fuck… what am I gonna do with you?“ he looks up at you, almost annoyed that this was working on him, but he couldn’t help it. He was pussy whipped. Feeling like you’ve won, you lazily smiled, already getting close to your climax as you continued grinding on his soft stomach.

“Lyla… fuck… mute my watch. I’m takin’ the day off.”

A/n: This one right here…. This ask did it for me. Been replaying this one in my head for days now hnnnghh I need him so bad, it actually makes my stomach hurt and my head dizzy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Thank you nonnie <3

Hope y’all liked it <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!