herhappyplace - Tumblr blog

herhappyplace · 1 year

Note

I’m sorry I keep abusing your open ask box

Please could I have your brat tamer Simon actually being soft about (and to) brat! MC because she’s actually really upset about something and because Simon knows when it’s not the time to tame the brat

But you know, feel free make him soft and filthy, pls and thx ily

Loving this Ghost x Brat! Series 👀

Warnings: slight angst, mention of gore/death, NSFW, smut, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unprotected sex, Simon is soft- Ghost isn’t

Enjoy 🫶🏼

_____________________________________________

Rain patters gently against the concrete.

The air smells of soil; the Earth has been dug up by the weather, puddles forming in the divots in the ground, in the uneven dips in the concrete.

England’s weather reflects the mood. Reflects just how grim and sour they all feel, none of them feel as horrid as she does.

Months have passed since her first encounter with her lieutenant. She’s grown into herself since then, rightly earned her stripes amongst her peers, she outshines the rest with her guts and determination; so that’s why she gets sent out, stationed with the 141, with Ghost. Taken under his wing with the promise he’ll teach her everything he knows about the real world, nothing behind the safety of barrack walls can prepare anyone for what awaits out there.

His watchful eye over her goes further than just that, but it stays between them, a secret they both promise to keep.

“This is private, not a secret” he’d said, mused it into her hair, could hear the cogs turning in her head one night as he held her close to his chest. Heart to heart. He can’t always read her, not all the time, but he’s not dense. He knows what she must think, he’s bold enough to assume. She thinks that she’s being used, she sees Ghost as something different then he sees her. They have to keep this between them, they risk everything if they don’t, but Ghost can’t find comfort in the knowledge that she assumes he doesn’t give a shit. He cares too much. Maybe it’s true, that they see each other differently, but he won’t ask - he isn’t ready for that conversation. Yet, he finds he doesn’t want her to think of them that way, he isn’t sure himself what he wants this to be - he’s just not ready to solidify it yet.

Ghost wouldn’t have said she was ready if he didn’t believe her to be. She doesn’t get special treatment because he fucks her silly in his spare time, he doesn’t provide favours of that kind. He had pushed for her deployment because he saw the potential, could see just how useful she would be joining them out there. He did know, however, that this was inevitable. Maybe it was better for it to happen now, as gruesome and horrible as it sounded, rip the bandaid off in one fell swoop so it was over and done with.

He was numb to it now. Most of them were, there’s an instance or two that he can remember vividly that stick with him, grotesque and ugly images that stain his nightmares when he closes his eyes to rest. He’d lived and he’d learned. For the most part, he can tune it out, get on with his life.

Ghost knew that she hadn’t seen death before, not like this, not first hand. It wasn’t the killing that had jarred her, she’d barely flinched, that had been trained out of her entirely. It was the fatality the team had endured that had her shaken up. A nasty and gruesome scene when the dust had settled, sand kicked up and stone crumbling, the Earth feeling as if it had shifted an inch or two after the blast.

They’d lost one of their own. Someone Ghost had passed time after time, a familiar face, a distant laugh. A man he knew had a family; a wife and two children, soon to receive the letter to let them know he’d never come home.

Ghost is used to it, used to this, perhaps too much so. That’s part of the reason he lets her have her space, he knows she’ll emerge when she’s ready, when she’s had the time to fully digest the day. The poor bastard had already been dead when they pulled him from the ruble, death rattle falling from his chest, ribcage caved-in and broken and bloody. Soap had confirmed death with two thick fingers pressed to his pulse point and an ear hovered over his nose. No pulse - no breath.

As soon as they’d touched back down at base for a briefing and check in with Laswell she’d scurried off. Didn’t show up at dinner and didn’t acknowledge Price’s wish to see her privately, to check in to make sure she was okay after what she’d seen. They wouldn’t coddle her and shield her, they weren’t here for that, and she would go on to see so much worse. But they all know how jarring the first time can be, seeing someone you talked to not even minutes ago blown to bits, innards strewn three-feet across the ground and their limbs missing completely.

Ghost’s sleep is always light, yet tonight slumber feels even further from his grasp. So close he can almost touch it, skim it with his fingers, but just that little bit too far out of the way. He puts it down to other things; but in his subconscious he knows it’s because of her, he knows he won’t settle until he knows she’s right and well - or at least still here. What’s to say she won’t spook and scurry off? Leave this base behind forever and settle for civilian life.

He hopes he knows her better then that, and she proves him right when she stands in the doorway of the communal living area.

It’s pitch black save for the light from the tv that flickers and dances up the walls and over the ceiling, bathing it in flashes of blue and white. The area isn’t overly large. It consists of a small kitchenette and fridge, a sofa crammed into the corner with a beanbag seat right next to it, opposite sits an old tv that has to be sat at a certain angle for it to work. It’s enough. Serves its purpose for when they actually get time to use it, which isn’t often at all, right now it’s enough.

She looms for a few moments and Ghost stays sitting in silence, tall-hulking frame stretched out, knees wide as the sofa struggles to hold up the heft of him.

He doesn’t want to sway her decisions, not when she’s vulnerable like this, he can’t bring himself to do it. He’s a taker, always has been, probably always will be. It stems from a learnt selfishness; when he had denied himself of intimacy for so many years, convinced he didn’t need it and didn’t care. When he broke the volunteered celibacy it had awoken something dark and nasty in his chest, a need to take and take and take till there was nothing left. The years had scored the edges, no longer razor sharp and lethal - simply jagged now.

He’d learnt his lesson over time. He can be rough and selfish and nasty, but he’s learnt when and where is appropriate, right here and right now isn’t the right time for selfish.

Simon’s slumped into the sofa, mask gone - Ghost has been put to bed for the night. When the base sleeps he deems it safe, his team have seen his face enough times for him to allow the freedom of going without the mask. She’s no different. He doesn’t know where the line had blurred, somewhere between eating her out in the shower and fucking her on the roof. He finds himself snatching her away more often than he’d like to admit, she goes willingly, gets giddy when he pulls her into a dark corner or finds her in her bunk at night.

The first time she had seen his face she hadn’t batted an eyelid. Those rough hands of hers, calloused from disassembling and reassembling her handgun over and over again until she got it perfect, scarred from the numerous times she’s nicked herself on her own blade or scuffed her palms across the concrete when doing push ups or drills. They’re just like his, mirrored, smaller albeit, but all the same. He likes the feel of them on his face, tracing over the stubble on his jaw, feeling down the notched scar across his nose from breaking it time after time. She’s not shy with him, studies him close, commits every mole and freckle and scar to memory out of fear he might not let her in again. She’s wrong. He never wants to let her out.

He cranes his neck, hazel eyes drinking her in, assessing as always. She’s bathed in the stark light the tv provides, shadows dance across her bare legs, illuminating her face before it flashes again. She’s rigid, shaken, her body looks so tense if he pressed the tip of his blade into her flesh she’d snap like an elastic band. Pulled too tight. Yanked so far it breaks.

The line of his mouth softens, quirks down only slightly at the sight of her hesitation. He can see the wet on her cheeks, the slight ruddy redness around her eyes, no doubt from rubbing the tears away a little too harshly. He wants to kiss those tears, banish them away, take her mind off of everything completely. It’s foreign, unheard of for him, Ghost bruises and breaks and mauls. He doesn’t provide comfort and seek to be someone’s warmth, but for her, he does.

Simon reaches out his hand toward her, the question sits within the gesture, she can take it or leave it, he won’t be offended. There’s something she wants to say, the same thing that had bought her here in the first place, part of her knew he would be up.

The sound of her feet padding along the floor draws his attention again, he looks at her, watches as she nears closer. He can smell the soft warmth of her skin, orange-blossom shampoo and mint shower gel, something so unassuming but something he comes to recognise as her. She slides her hand into his, fingers gripping his tightly, her skin and hair is still damp when she drops into his side. Nudges close and buries her face into the side of his ribs, suddenly shy, feeling like she’s too open - too vulnerable.

He watches her, eyes drifting over every inch, one hand still clenched tight in hers while the other pets over her hair, fingers running through the damp strands of it. They stay like this for however long it takes until she speaks up, Simon doesn’t keep track of the time, sees no point to, he’d be content with her falling asleep right here so he can cart her off to his bunk and tuck himself in beside her. Maybe then he’d sleep.

“Does it ever get easier?” Her voice is small, croaky, the self induced silence making her mouth feel tacky as she speaks. She doesn’t move to look at him, her hand lifts to trace a line over his abdomen, following a crease in his shirt.

He’s pensive for a moment. Thinks of how best to word it for her, he’s never hidden the truth, he doesn’t mince or waste his words because it takes up too much time. For her he feels the obligation to be softer, gentler, if only for times like these.

“It gets easier to ignore” he tells, honestly, “easier to disconnect yourself from it” his words rumble in his chest, under her cheek as she lifts her face from it’s shield under his arm. She sniffles, but she nods against him, understands that this is what she signed up for, this is all her life will be from here on out.

“He was talking about his kids on the transport” her voice is small, cracks at the mention of his family, and Simon feels the way she swallows thick and stuffs her face back into the fabric against his side. His hand slides from her hair to her back, rubs down her spine and back up again, a gentle touch he is yet to get used to.

“I know” he whispers, shifts so he can lean forward, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head because he knows. He’s seen it a hundred times; mission after mission and year after year he buries more comrades then he brings home, men and women who have more to live for then he does. That’s why the guilt eats away at him the way it does, because these men and women that get left behind, buried in the sand, are the ones that have something and someone waiting for them back home.

Ghost doesn’t have that.

She shifts, presses her hands against him for leverage as she sits up straighter, able to meet his eye when she lifts her head. His hand follows her, smooths up her spine, rests at the base of her neck when she tilts her head into his touch. In the dim light, he searches her eyes, any indication that she’s okay, that she really is just shaken from the first sighting of a gruesome death. He finds something darker, that familiar glint in her eyes that is rimmed with redness, lined in a sadness she wants to snuff out.

She leans up, both palms pressed into Simon’s thigh when she lets her face inch closer to his, he’s sharing her breath, breathing her in. “Make me forget” she whispers, eyes flitting over his face for an answer, begging him not to turn her down. He’s not sure he ever could. Ghost is a taker, doesn’t give a shit about much else other then his own needs to survive and overpower. Simon is understanding, he acknowledges the reasoning, and he finds himself falling into the idea of it. He too, wants to forget, it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, to forget everything that has ever happened to him; at least until the 141, those are memories he wishes to hold onto.

He uses the leverage he still holds at the base of her neck, reels her in close so he can connect her lips to his. It’s sweet. There’s no rush tonight, the world has slowed, stilled entirely for them it seems. Simon reaches his other hand for her, settles it on her hip and guides her closer, hands hovering over her until she’s in his lap. Pressed up close, chest pressed against each other, the thrum of their heartbeats striking against one another. All the while their lips never part, she presses her tongue into his mouth, seeks more and sets the pace, and tonight he lets her; because she needs this more then he does.

Simon’s left hand is splayed over her thigh and his right hand is at her jaw, thumb tracing lazily as his lips meld to hers, she tastes of nicotine - a nasty habit she’d picked up from him. A bummed cigarette here and there shifted into the start of a new tick for her. “I like how it makes me feel” she’d defended herself when he told her it’s not something she wants to start up, he hated that he needed it. But when it’s from her tongue, lathed onto his, he loves it even more. It stings his palette, sets a fire in his blood when her teeth catch his lip.

Her pace quickens; there isn’t much room for teasing, no easy work up to ease her in gently. She needs to forget, he reminds himself, she needs you. He repeats to himself.

His hand moves from her jaw down to her neck, index finger tracing a line down over her sternum right to her naval, his fingers linger before she sets her sights on his waistband. She reaches for him, tucks her hand beneath the fabric until the hot weight of him sits in her palm, half way to getting hard when she squeezes him lightly. He hisses at her touch, pants into her mouth when she rubs the pad of her thumb over the slit on the head of his cock. “Steady” he warns, sharp eyes almost glowering at her, watching as she looks between their bodies, her hand beginning to slide up and down.

He damns it away. This sense he feels, a sense of obligation to care for and protect her, she’s asks him explicitly to ruin her and he still feels the need to nurture her. Tonight he throws that notion away, and he’ll give her what she asks for.

His hand snatches her chin, guides all of her attention to him and his words, she’s forced to meet his eye. “Do you want me to fuck you like this?” He doesn’t gesture, but she understands immediately, he doesn’t word it but he hopes she’ll understand what he means.

It’ll hurt. I don’t want to break you. I don’t want you to hate me after this.

She nods, quicker than he would like her to, too eager to be ruined on his cock and fucked so dumb she’ll forget who she is. That’s not ego, it’s fact, he could damage her in more ways than one.

Her palms slides over his cock again, and he hooks his thumb into the leg hole of her sleep shorts, they’re so baggy that there’s no resistance when he moves them aside, her pretty cunt seeping over his fingers when he dips them there. That hot-wet heat of her is always enticing, a familiar feeling, one that somehow still manages to catch him off guard. He bats her hand away, snatches both of her wrists behind her back and holds them in one of his big mitts. His free hand pushes his waistband down, frees his cock so it springs up, coaxed by the feel of her skin, already leaking and ready to fill her up until it’s too much.

Simon leans forward, presses his lips into her throat, “you ready for me, sweetheart?” His tone is hushed, adopting the gentleness again, she nods- again too quick.

The stretch is intense. He can’t barely fit, her cunt snaps around the girth of his cock like a seal, flush around him like a vacuum. He groans, tight cords of his throat strained when his eyes roll in his head. He can hear her, the trapped cry in her chest, he sees the tears that roll over her cheeks and settle into the fabric over his abdomen. This isn’t pretend, this is something real and needed for the both of them. It solidifies this thing between them, that it isn’t just mindless fooling around, it’s something that hammers deeper. As deep as his cock ruts into her, his hips slamming up to meet her pelvis, the juncture of her thighs that slap against the flesh below his navel.

She arches back, pressed into the grip he has on her wrists, uses him to keep herself up. She stutters, cries his name like it’s the last saving grace, a mantra heaved from her chest like a prayer.

He dips his chin, watches as she gushes, pussy leaking down till her juices settle against the base of his cock. His pace quickens, the crude slap of wet flesh echoing around the room until it hits back at them. Her mouth opens but the sound is strangled, hoarse, unable to breach her lips as the tears continue to spill.

“You’re doin’ so well” he urges, watches as she nods back at him, wetting her lips. He grunts, feeling how her cunt clamps around him, walls fluttering as she begins to grind herself down to meet his thrusts. He arches his hips up, making her squeal, watching how she rubs her clit and mound into the flesh above his cock, seeking friction that isn’t the press of his thumb and fingers. He allows her to cum like that, it’s something new, a different sensation when she guides herself to that peak unaided.

Her body trembles, shivers when she manages to make herself cum. It’s shatters through her chest, spills over her cheeks and spills down her thighs. Her mouth gapes, and Simon tugs her down, kisses her open mouth with all tongue and teeth when her cunt constricts him, forces him to meet the same end she does.

He cums with one last thunderous thrust, presses her as close as she’ll go, keeps her flush tight. Hips pressed to hers so nothing can leak or escape. He wants her to feel this for as long as she can, and he doesn’t want to move for as long as she’ll let him.

They’re panting, breathless as she presses a lingering kiss to his mouth. He can’t help when his fingers brush the hair from her eyes, tucks it behind her ear so he can see those eyes clearer. He never wants to forget the way she looks after she’s cum, the softness that locks her features, the far away look in her eyes.

It’s the look of bliss. Blissful ignorance to anything else around her. He’d helped her forget.

137 notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 1 year

Text

Pairing: könig x f!reader

Plot: König comes back from a mission.

A/N: just the cozy vibes I wanted to write about. We agreed we liked soft König so I had to dive deep into the mush.

“I missed you”

König had just come back from a mission. A whole 3 months away from him. You didn’t anticipate the days getting longer and waiting every hour just to hear from him. You missed him and had a hard time adjusting. As soon as he had told you he was home, you wanted to jump in your car and race over—but instead, you were patiently waiting for him to invite you over.

He had texted you saying he needed a few days to adjust back to normalcy. Which you understood. You couldn’t imagine taking on a job so vicious and scary like he did.

When he had told you what he did, the conversation was calculated but explained casually:

“I’m a contracted…a contracted mercenary,” he said. He looked over at you quickly, and bit the inside of his cheek under the mask he had on. His heart raced, but he wanted to be as honest as he could without scaring you.

He quickly added:

“I-I-I’m in charge of the jobs I get to seek out and help with.” He quickly explained one of his missions — taking out a terrorist group involving human trafficking.

He continued to ramble on, scared that you take it the wrong way. Maybe mercenary was too harsh of a word. He saw himself as a mercenary. He was in the military but he was getting paid to kill people.

You sat there so confused, he could see how your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes set wide, but nodded your head.

You spoke—

“So you kill… bad people?”

He sighed, had closed his eyes and mumbled quietly, “yes and I know it sounds ten times as awful but I don’t want you to be scared because I would never hurt you.”

You brought your hands to his face and kissed his nose, his forehead— his entire face.

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” You reassured him. “I’m not scared I’m just trying to understand.”

He had kept in contact with you sporadically at first, messaging you throughout the week. You had received a message on Tuesday almost a week after he left, but he had responded through an email on Friday, then messaged you again six weeks later confirming his safety and return date.

Now you just waited patiently for him to reset and need your company.

König was exhausted. It was a whole 3 months away from you and a whole 85 days in action. He was responding to others on his team, being near others, taking orders from others, and engaging with others.

He just wanted to see you. Have the company of someone who wasn’t scared of him or needed him to knock down the door where he would be greeted by the screams and footsteps of men. He wanted to have his guard down and not look around every second hoping he missed someone.

When he finally felt he was okay, back to his own safe reality, he messaged you to come over and spend the night.

You were excited. Was he really asking you to spend the night? You packed an overnight bag and rushed over to his house.

He was waiting outside, leaning against his door frame with his hands crossed against his chest. He eyed you from the doorway. You could see he was dressed in his all black attire but he had on something different, a hooded mask. with holes for his eyes. This was different. You ran from the driveway and leaped into his arms.

“Mmmm” you moaned into his neck, pulled up the hem of the mask slightly and nuzzled in and kissed him up his neck.

“I missed you so much.”

He was still holding you up, one of his arms holding your bottom and the other arm across your back, his hand tangled into your hair as he made his way into your neck.

He sighed there and mumbled

“It was too long —too long away from you.”

He walked backward toward the house and closed the door with his foot. He walked over to the couch still holding you and plopping down softly, not letting go.

You appeared from under his hooded mask.

“Hi baby” you rubbed his chest with your hands as you nuzzled his clothed nose against your bare one.

You pulled back and observed him.

“This is new.” You rubbed the black mask over his face with your hands.

His eyes widened, knowing he was probably blushing underneath, you smiled.

“I didn’t have time to wash my turtlenecks.” He used as an excuse.

You laughed and pouted “but now I can’t see when you blush or when your ears turn red”

It was like he was hiding more of himself and you two had been carefully and patiently peeling back the hidden layers of him.

He buried himself in your chest and whispered

“I’m sorry”

You rubbed his neck and reassured him

“It’s okay, whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

You kind of expected this. As König took on missions and left for longer periods of time, he came back more quiet than he usually was. He was never one for many words, preferring to hear you talk, but after missions, it's like he coward away from reality and sunk into being unnoticeable, he needed to recharge a lot of the times.

He looked up at you and kissed your chin.

You two sat on the couch for a while just him holding you and rubbing you as you caught him up about everything he missed in the last 3 months. You told him about the 3 months of work you had to endure. It wasn’t anything compared to what he had to do but he sat there nodding his head and affirming everything that had happened while he was gone, all while rubbing your back, your neck, and legs on top of him.

As you were in the middle of telling him how the new project you start a month ago had tensed you up so much that you ended up buying a neck warmer/pillow with a built in massager,

He spoke softly interrupting you,

“Do you want to get in my jacuzzi?”

You looked at him, suddenly nervous,

“Will you be joining me?”

You were stunned. It felt like he never used his pool or jacuzzi in his own home. It could be because he was never home, but to you it seemed as if it was more of an aesthetic for him, not something he had built in his home for pleasure.

As he adjusted the temperature on his phone and went outside to start it up, you had run back out to the car hoping you had packed a bathing suit.

You kept denying the back of your mind telling you “you didn’t pack for this.”

You came back inside and he led you his personal bathroom.

You turned to him sheepishly

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

He looked at you, walked over to his dresser, and picked up one of his surfing tops.

“Would you feel comfortable in this?”

The sight made you giggle a little bit. A huge top that would without a doubt cover you entirely. And because only he would have a surfing top because it covers his body.

You nodded.

“But I don’t have any bottoms…”

“If you are comfortable, you can just get in with your underwear. I’ll do the same.” he said

He walked out letting you know he would be getting ready in his guest bathroom.

You tied up the enormous top on you as best as you could, stripped off your pants, tied up your hair, and walked out.

He was already waiting for you, towels set aside for you both, sitting on the edge of the jacuzzi with his legs in, his back turned to you. He had on another one his surf tops on, boxers on, and his hooded mask on top.

You walked up nervously.

As if he already knew, he spoke softly:

“Come on in, I won’t watch you.”

König was always a step ahead of your bashfulness or nervousness. Only he was one to truly understand.

He looks away as you step in holding onto the rail, dipped yourself in, and settled yourself in between his legs.

The water bubbled around you. It was warm and settling against your neck., shoulders, and body.

His arms came around your shoulders and he began kneading them.

“Is this okay?” He says gently.

Eyes closed, you nodded.

As you rubbed his shins, you noticed the stretch marks on the back of his knees. Red, lightning scars running vertically on the back and sides of his knees. It was one the first times you saw any part of his body. You settled your head in between his legs, laying on his right thigh, and slowly continued to rub one leg now.

You felt like drifting off to sleep with the way he was gently massaging you and petting your hair.

He speaks softly,

“If I had known how much I would miss you, I wouldn’t have reported to that job.”

A small mumble and whisper to himself

“At least I have you again.”

It struck a nerve in your heart. You missed him terribly and now that he was back you felt complete again. The relationship you two built was tough work and slowly, but surely, the patience and effort you had reaped and sowed were being rewarded. This relationship was blossoming.

But in the back of your mind, it started to get cloudy, worried, and most of all, scared.

You stood up and faced him.

His face was blocked by his mask, but you can see his eyes are curious by why you had stood up.

You pull up the hem of the mask and he stops your hands. You gently let go. He pulls up the mask just enough to show his lips to you. He pulls you in and locks lips with yours. You wrap your arms around him.

The kiss is soft and slow, followed by smaller pecks on your lips.

He releases you, and you’re left breathless.

You bury yourself into his neck, blushing.

“Now I’m not going to want to let you go.”

He hugs you, softly whispering

“You won’t have to baby, not for a while.”

2K notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 1 year

Text

Scars and all

"You gotta be kidding, Si. You got this one from your rookie days?"

He hums in agreement. Your finger traces the scar that divides his eyebrow, warm and kind. He can count with one hand the times he's felt that kind of touch in all his life. You sigh, pressing your lips together.

"And this one?" You ask, following the line across his left cheek. He grins, making his dimples show.

"Bar fight."

You shake your head, frowning at him with poorly hidden amusement. "I'm not even surprised."

He hugs you closer, getting your bodies flush against each other and tracing circles on your back. He sighs, closing his eyes and letting you explore the map of his skin. Your thumbs press against his dimples briefly, making him laugh.

"What is this one from?" You trace the scar across his lower lip that goes down to his chin. He gets distracted from your question when you get closer and kiss it.

"I..." he tries, willing his brain to concentrate. "Mission in Russia, I think. Knife."

You hum, kissing it again and completely erasing any thought in his mind.

Your hands move to his hairline, touching a thick scar that outlines almost half of the top of his forehead. He knows you're frowning, even if he isn’t looking at you.

"Don’t ask."

He feels you tense slightly, but you do as he says. With how smart you are, he's sure you figured out what that one is from. But you don’t say anything, and he silently thanks you.

Instead, you touch his nose and trace a line that goes across the bridge of it. You kiss it too. It sends shivers down his spine, he doesn’t think he can answer now even if he tries.

"This one?" You whisper. He can feel your face almost touching his. He swallows.

"I-I'm not sure." He answers instead, not actually even stopping to think. You chuckle.

"Make something up then."

He can't make something up. He can barely remember his name now, with your hands moving down to his shoulders. He's not even looking at you.

"Maybe..." he takes a deep breath, "I broke it?" He tries, even though of course it's been broken before and you know that. You giggle, squeezing his arms slightly.

"You're shit at storytelling."

He actually is not, but do you really expect him to function fully when you're touching him?

He's not wearing a shirt, and it was fine until you press your palms right at his chest. He squeezes your shirt between his fingers, trying to ground himself. He can feel his entire body getting hotter.

"Gunshot?" You ask, outlining a round scar in the middle of his right pec, close to his nipple. He shudders, nodding. He's silently praying that you won’t- fuck.

He almost bolts out of the bed when you press your lips against it. And he will deny it until he dies, but he yelps too. You giggle against his chest, setting his nerves on fire. His breaths are starting to quicken.

Everything is warm and soft. Your skin, the sheets, your clothes. He's covered in softness that he's not familiar with. He'd do anything to not let go, afraid of even opening his eyes again and all of it banishing.

"Answer me," you order him softly.

Wh-what was the question?

"Y-yes," he replies, even though he can't remember what he's answering to. He just hopes it makes sense, that you don’t notice he's saying it just to please you. He'll say no if you prefer, whatever you want. Whatever you need.

"You sure?"

You're teasing, he knows that. Of course he's not sure, he can barely think with you two pressed so close together.

"A-ask me something else," his voice shakes slightly, making his face go red. He's sure his chest looks the same.

"Okay," you accept. "But open your eyes first."

Taking a deep breath, he does. Your beautiful face greets him, soft and welcoming, loving. He almost wants to squirm with how intensely you're looking at him.

Your hands move lower, down to his abdomen. He squeezes his muscles involuntarly, making you chuckle. His face goes even redder.

Your fingers follow a line that goes from the middle to his right flank, and when you kiss it, his eyes burn a little bit. He's almost hyperventilating, overwhelmed by your attention.

"How old is this one?"

He remembers that one clearly, if only because he had met you not too long before it happened. When he had seen you again, it was with bandages covering it and stitches keeping it together. He never told you, and still, you had treated him so gently he had figured you knew. Turns out it was just you being you.

When he whispers his answer, your head snaps up to his level. He sees you figure it out, how the realization comes to your eyes. But you don’t say anything again, and instead press your lips against his.

You didn't touch even half of his scars, but he's sure you know them by memory. He'd pour out every single story if you asked, make up something if he didn't remember. He'd do anything for you, give you everything you desire. He's just lucky it's him you want, scars and all.

"You're so beautiful, Simon."

He swallows your words just as he keeps kissing you, but his dimples show again and his face stays red for a while.

7K notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 1 year

Text

"Your eyelashes are really white."

Simon can feel his entire face heat up, and he guesses it's gone red too when you giggle. He can barely think with how close you are, how your entire attention is on him. He doesn’t know how to handle it, he's not used to this.

Do you like them? He wants to ask. Do you like them? They're for you. All of me is yours, if you want.

But he doesn't, and instead just basks in the heat of your touch. Your eyes wander all over his face, shining with awe that he doesn't get. He's not going to question it though, he's not stupid.

"Do you paint them too, when you put on your face paint?"

He blinks a few times, trying to search for an answer that will satisfy you, that will keep you looking at him like that. He shakes his head slightly, trying to clear the fog you've created inside his brain.

"Not on purpose," he mutters softly. You're so beautiful, he can't stop looking at you. He feels something heavy and plush grow inside his chest, fueled by the weight of you on top of his legs. He still can't believe he gets to have you on his lap.

"Does that mean you have a bicolor eyelash now and then?'

He chuckles, but it's breathless. He probably does, he had never thought about it, but who cares? Nothing really matters to him if you're near.

You care though. You seem to care about him a lot.

"Maybe," he whispers, caressing your thighs up and down with both hands. You smile at him, weaving your fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes briefly, smiling without meaning to.

"You have freckles too." He nods. His cheeks go red again, and you laugh for real this time. "Stop blushing, Si! You're making them disappear!"

He laughs too, embarrassed. You make him feel almost giddy, light. He's happy.

Your thumbs brush over the apple of his cheeks, tracing scars that right then, he doesn’t remember how he got. How could he, when your nose is almost touching his?

"You're really handsome, Si. Can see why you cover your face now, you'll cause a crash with that jaw."

He squeezes your legs softly. It's almost too much, his chest feels almost too tight. You're filling him up with something sweet and syrupy that chokes him, that he doesn't know how to breathe through. "Stop."

But he says it so low that you must know he doesn’t mean it. You give him a soft smile as an answer, kissing the tip of his nose with equally soft lips that he dreams of covering with his own.

Objectively speaking, he knows he's good looking, but it didn’t matter to him before you. To know you like that part of him too makes him warm inside, even more so when he acknowledges that you liked him well before knowing his face.

"Your hair is pretty too," you comment, like your words aren’t sending an earthquake all over his insides. Your fingers brush through it, sending shivers down his spine when they graze his skin. He tries to repress them, doesn’t want to scare you. "How do you even have it this soft?"

"Must be the mask," he answers, looking up at you with hooded eyes.

"Maybe I'll start using one too, if it gets my hair this pretty."

He shakes his head immediately, wrapping his arms around you so he can pull you closer. You're pliant, let him move you this way and that. His entire body heats up.

"No?" You softly ask, stopping your moves. He nudges you with his head like a cat, and you resume them. "Why not? We can match."

Because your face is not one that should be hidden. He's selfish, but even he can admit that covering your beautiful face would be a crime.

"I won't be able to see you," he answers just as he buries his face in your chest. He closes his eyes, and breathes in. He's home.

He feels you shake your head, still playing with the curls that are starting to form with how long his hair is getting.

"But I see you, don't I?"

You do. You do.

12K notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 2 years

Text

Soft 💕

some of your favourite things about getting home before nanami does is that you get to secretly steal the snacks he bought last night, even though you know he buys extra for you. you get to hide notes for him around the house, little secret surprises for him to find. you get to decide what wine you want to share with him later, flip through his book just to see how much further he has read since yesterday. you get to stand on the veranda so you can see him walking to the apartment lobby, smiling down as you see him look up to check if the lights are on in your apartment, because that means you're home, and you know he is also smiling up at you. you get to greet him when he opens the door, watch him smile softly at the sight of you, hear him call your name. you get to hug him, smell the last dregs of his cologne still lingering around him. you get to kiss him as he takes off his jacket and hangs it up. you get to watch him unbutton his sleeves and hear him say i missed you, while he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you close.

but your absolute favourite thing about getting home before nanami does, is that you get to untie his perfect tie and pull it off him like you're unwrapping a present. you get to unbutton his top buttons, to pull him down by the collar to press your lips to his, cupping his face in your hands as you demand for him to kiss you, knowing that he obliges every time. you get to run your fingers through his hair, scrunch your hands into it, messing it up properly, and watching the strands fall down to frame his face, knowing that he doesn't mind if it's you. he lets you run your hands up and down his body, feeling the muscles beneath his skin ripple as he moves to hold you closer. he gives in to you, fingers gripping into your sides as you hook your leg around his waist, your lips still locked together, his hands holding you steady, pressed up against him. he lets you lean hungrily into him, lets you lick the inside of his mouth, and you get to taste him returning the favour to you. you get to feel the sting and the pleasure of nanami's lips on your neck, trailing down, wet and warm and even with your eyes closed you know there's no way you'll be able to hide those marks tomorrow morning. nanami grinds into you slightly and you whimper a little, always so ready for him, already soaking a wet spot through your panties onto his pant leg where you are connected. it's your absolute favourite thing, when he lets you take off his tie and remind him that you missed him, too.

nanami's favourite thing to do when he gets home after you is to kiss you, tell you he missed you, and letting you demand for him, giving in to you, and letting himself revel in the way you touch him and the thought of you missing him this much. he holds you close, and lets you mark him along his neck and jaw to remind everyone else tomorrow that he's yours. nanami is patient and ever so indulging, always letting you take what you want from him. eyes closed and hands wandering you peel off his jacket while nanami runs his hand under your shirt, hitching it up so he has access to your chest, running his thumbs in circles around your nipples. you whimper softly at the friction, and he pinches, and you moan into his mouth. your hands move faster, pulling him closer, unbuttoning his shirt impatiently. his chest now exposed to your hands, you run them over his abs, going low, tugging at his belt, wanting to take it off. and nanami catches your hands and pulls them to his lips, kissing your fingers gently. you laugh at the sudden change in pace, the sweetness of the action, then gasp as he pulls you closer, letting you feel him, how he also wants you, both just separated by layers of cloth. nanami likes the way you're always so ready for him, likes to watch as you soak your panties, your wetness a growing dark patch on the leg of his pants as you struggle against his hold. he grinds up into you, to hear you whisper his name with urgency, kento, please, please take me.

and nanami's absolute favourite thing is to pull you away right at that moment. abruptly, he disconnects from you, leaving you breathless, but still in his arms. holding you close, tight enough to stop you from moving but not tight enough to hurt, nanami whispers back in his low, rough voice, lets have dinner first, kissing your forehead quickly and releasing you, turning quickly towards the dining table and walking just fast enough that your desperate hands miss the edge of his clothes. unable to pull him back, you pout, following him into the house to wait impatiently for dinner to be finally over so you can pick up where you left off. nanami's absolute favourite thing is to tease you, to watch your expression get needy and pouty, hear your voice whining and begging for him. he doesn't do it often, but just enough that you never expect it. after you are done, sweaty, sticky, wrapped up together and tangled in the sheets, you hit him softly, showing your displeasure as much as you can muster in the afterglow, still smiling. why, you ask, do you always do this to me? and you close your eyes as nanami runs his thumbs over your face, because you're so pretty. you open your eyes, the question still in your eyes. and nanami shifts, so that he's once against pressing his weight into you, one leg between yours, making you shudder with leftover sensitivity. he kisses you, deep, slow, biting at your lips and dragging it out to see you dazed after. kento, you whine. he's doing it again, pulling away just when you want to continue. and he smiles and leans down, making like he's going to kiss you, but turning right at the end to whisper into your ear, you're so pretty like this, when you're begging for me like that. you try to murmur in disagreement, but he captures your lips and stops you, again pulling back just a little to press his forehead to yours. with his eyes closed, he continues, you're so pretty like this, when you want me so much, when you miss me this much. it makes me want to give all of it back to you. and then he shows you what he means all over again. he brings you repeatedly close to the edge and pulls back, becoming almost a torture for you, making you cry and beg and bite his shoulders. and when he finally relents, he tells you how beautiful you look when you cum around him, how it makes him go even faster each time, eyes rolling back in pleasure as he holds your spasming body in place while pushing himself deep into you to paint you white from the inside. and he stays there, buried to the hilt inside you.

you see, the best thing about coming home is that you get to kiss each other goodnight, falling asleep linked together in the comfort of your home.

-----

fucking soft 🥹 i'd like a nanami to keep in my pocket. to hug when i'm sad.

please reblog if you liked this

also the masterlist is here, but be careful because there is smut and there is hurt, and it's a feeling lucky? thing.

769 notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 3 years

Text

Gojo Satoru Boyfriend Headcanons

Warning: 18+ Under Cut

Requests: Click on this Link.

SFW

Gojo Satoru: the man, the myth, the ledged.

This man drives you insane.

Wherever Gojo goes, people will approach him. Women often ignore your presence, but men are interested.

If anyone asks for your name; Gojo responds, “Mine.”

Must constantly be the center of attention.

“Hey, pay attention to me.”

Before you began dating, Gojo always flirted with you. Your boundaries between friends and lovers remained “too blurry.” Gojo did not spend a minute away from you. You complimented each other; matched outfits, cooked together, and slept in the same bed numerous times.

You were convinced Gojo thought of you as a friend until he kissed you one night before falling asleep. Since that kiss, you two have created a healthy relationship that cannot be broken.

EXTREMELY CLINGY. Gojo’s love language is pestering you 25/8.

Both you and Gojo are extremely cocky. You acknowledge that you two have the perfect relationship everyone strives for.

When Gojo’s best friends, Toji and Geto, invite Gojo anywhere, they respond, “Bring y/n.”

Gojo is convinced Toji is in love with you. Toji asks to see you more often than Gojo.

Gojo’s friends enjoy your presence. You aren’t considered “Gojo’s girlfriend,” you’re one of their best friends.

“If you two break up, we’re ditching you, Gojo.”

SOCIAL MEDIA FAMOUS. Who isn’t obsessed with Gojo? He has over 50K followers on each of his social media platforms.

Mostly posts thirst-traps.

Videotapes new social media trends with you.

Asks you to buy him flowers. Gojo acts surprised saying, “No way, for me, baby?” However, he told you which flowers to purchase yesterday.

Asks ridiculous questions to capture your attention…

“If I was a worm, would you love me?”

“If I was a flower, what would I be?”

“Do you still like me?”

“If I was someone else, would you still adore me?”

Gojo is always making you laugh. If you’re in a bad mood, you’ll find Gojo. He puts a smile on your face.

However, Gojo is constantly making you mad, but you can’t be mad for long. Within minutes, he’s making you laugh again. You’ll forget why you were angry.

Pranks!

Unfortunately, most of your pranks do not succeed due to Gojo’s ability to control infinity.

CONSTANTLY LATE for EVERYTHING. Don’t expect Gojo to be on time for anything.

For dates, you’ll purposely tell Gojo an hour earlier.

Gojo loves to bake. He enjoys making half-baked chocolate-chip cookies.

You’ll remind him, “Babe, we can’t eat that.” He responds, “But they are better this way, baby.”

Random visits and gifts - Gojo will surprise you with coffee, food, cards, and jewelry.

(Speaking of gifts) This man SPOILS YOU. Seriously, Gojo’s constantly receiving Amazon Prime packages. If someone knocks on your door, you’ll respond, “leave it on the porch.”

Enjoys shopping with you. Gojo’s favorite store is Victoria’s Secret. (I think you know why…)

“Hey, let’s go shopping.”

“Gojo, I can’t wear lingerie outside.”

You’ll leave candies around the house for him to eat. Gojo’s always eating mochi or sucking on a blue raspberry lollipop.

Strictly orders Frappuccinos at Starbucks.

You’ll never comprehend how Gojo is so fit; he should be over 500 pounds.

All doors must remain unlocked in your house. If a door is locked, Gojo will bust it down (this includes the bathroom).

BISEXUAL. The only other person Gojo flirts with are his best friend, Geto. Gojo will touch his butt and threaten to kiss him. He openly admitted that he wants to be in a relationship with you both.

Asks you wear his glasses on your head. If Gojo needs to remove his blindfold, he will grab his glasses out of your hair and hand you his blindfold. You’ll tie it around your wrist.

Gojo will not hesitate to do anything for you… If you give him something in return.

“I will do it if you kiss me.”

His favorite feeling is when your fingers run through his hair. He will ask you to play with his hair after he lays his head in your lap.

Steals ALL of the covers.

He snores too.

If Gojo is leaving for a mission, he will hide small love notes around the house for you to find.

“I can’t wait to see your smile when I get home.”

“I miss you, beautiful. Don’t sleep too good without me.”

“I love you.”

Keep reading

2K notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 3 years

Note

For the nastiest thirst 😼

Suguru’s hair brushes my neck and sort of drapes on me as he’s chest to back w/ me thrusting slow with one hand wrapped around my waist to keep me close and the other gently turning my face to meet his as he glides his tongue on mine ALL while maintaining intense eye contact😩😩😩

Look at me

Geto x reader smut

A/n: I wrote this in class cause I was so excited to write it. Send me more of your nasty thirsts and ill do my best to quench em.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, rough fucking, pet names

It tickles.

Getos long black hair dancing your shoulders, his heavy breathing against the back of your neck. Even the way his cock drags against your walls, kissing your cervix, tickles. It makes you squirm away, pussy trying to push out the intrusion. But the muscular arm wrapped around you, holding you close against Getos chest, prevents you from moving.

“Uh uh uh, don’t run way from me princess” he says, voice dripping with ridicule. You squeeze your eyes shut when Geto thrusts up particularly hard, you mouth hanging open agape at the pleasure. His dick hits something gummy and sensitive inside of you, the new type of pleasure that came with it racking your brain and making drool seep out from the side of your mouth. He smiles, knowing he found that specific spot that will have your pussy spasming and cumming in no time. It feels amazing for geto too, offering his own low groans at proof of the wonders you cunny did to him.

“S-shit baby you feel amazing you know that? Look at me baby when I make you cum.” His words go in one ear and out the other, your too focused on the tingling feeling of ecstasy in your core. Geto grunts. “I said,” he grabs your face, slightly twisting your body so you could look at him from behind “look at me.” Your field of vision is met with stern black eyes staring right back at you. It’s then you realize just how utterly hot your boyfriend is, and for some reason that has another wave of fresh warm pleasure washing over you. He pulls you in for a kiss, your lips immediately reacting to his. Its hot, and messy, warm tongues gliding and dancing with each other, parting a millisecond to take a breath before diving right back in to recaptures each others mouths. Its silent for a bit, only moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. But the silence is broken when you feel your brain go stupidly numb.

“I’m gonna-I” you can’t even finish your sentence, your climax is tumbling toward you faster then you anticipated.

“Cum, cum on me baby.” Geto says through a strangled groan. The molten hot pleasure in your tummy is too much now and your finally falling over the edge in a hazy bliss.

“Oh fuh-” Geto buries his dick as far as he can into you, releasing so much hot sticky liquid the it seeps out the tight fit and onto the floor.

5K notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 3 years

Text

😩🔥

ɪ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ’ᴍ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: 𝗯𝗼𝗸𝘂𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗼 𝘅 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

ᴄᴡ: 𝗻𝗼 𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁<𝟯, 𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽, 𝗱𝗿𝘆 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗼𝗻𝗲(𝟭) 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆, 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗲𝘅

ᴡᴄ: 𝟭.𝟳𝗸

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝘂𝗽 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗿, 𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.

ᴀ/ɴ: 𝗴𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗵𝗵𝗵 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗽 >< 𝗶𝗺 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗚𝗢 𝗠𝗘!!!!

the sun spilled through sheets of glass and painted windowpanes, cascading in billows of warmth to the backs of two lovers. bokuto’s arms encased your form and held you so close to him, nose buried in your hair. light fell past his shoulder onto fallen eyelids, stirring him out of slumber. he’s careful with you in his arms – he always is – and one hand lifted from the grasp to gently shake your shoulder.

“baby,” silence was met with his greeting, slipping a drowsy laugh from his lips as he gives it another attempt, “baby, wake up.”

a soft, melodious hum rings into the quiet morning atmosphere, your frame shifting in his arms as confusion etched across your features. eyelids barely flutter open, scrunching back at the sight of the sun.

“what time is it?”

“7 am.”

a groan spills from steel vocals, causing yet another laugh to leave the man. a few simple blinks later, you lay on your side, looking up at him, "why are we up so early? are you going to practice? do you want me to pack you something for lunch?" you asked, still squinting as bokuto smiled down at you.

“no, baby. the light woke me up, and i think you're cute when you're sleepy.”

you roll your eyes at him, turning in his arms once again to nearly dismiss the conversation.

“wake me up at noon.”

“no can do, baby!”

tired hands pried around you, fingertips nuzzling into your sides to hear a squeal as the bed creaked from a jump. bokuto knew where you were most ticklish, and this was his way of keeping you up. he lightly grazed his touch down your thigh, causing you to shiver and snatch your leg away from him as he chuckles. this is too tempting, he thought.

the volleyball player skillfully flipped you onto your back, hands traveling up to your sides again as quiet giggle spills from your lips. you batted him away, playfully and lazily though. you were enjoying his wake-up call. he continued his path up your frame, fingers curling around your wrists to cease movement, lips pecking at your neck and trailing up sloppily, wet kisses moving towards your parted mouth.

pulling another shriek from you, “wait- bo! morning breath-”

“i always want you. don’t care about that.”

you’re laughing by now, wrists pinned beneath his giant hands as your lips search for the smile on his face. he delights in this, mouth captured by your own, long legs tucked close to you to hold himself above you. he could feel how you dipped back into the contours of the mattress, how so early in the morning you could fall back asleep. the smile on your face never leaves, however, and you pressed your lips to his in determination. he was prepared to leave you alone, shifting his hips along yours to move himself back over to his side of the bed when a quiet gasp slips past you. it was an enticing noise, one that's recognizable to the man – a hushed noise of pleasure, reserved for evenings slowed under blankets or kisses on the couch.

his lips perk in that identifiable smile, causing another roll of his body against yours only to hear it one more time. heat rushed through his body as a reluctant mouth finds itself placed at the base of your neck, teeth skimming over lovely skin as he suckled slightly at the curves of your shoulder. this woke you up, if only a little; your body arched to his, pressed to a bare chest, pressed your hips to his. he tugged on your hair, slowly, slightly, revealing your neck to his hungry mouth as he placed slow kisses on your throat. hums rumble from beneath your skin, vibrating his lips as he moves a knee from your waist to the inside of your leg, shifting for his body to lean down to you, erection pressing against you.

a moan emits from you, frame flush against his as bokuto moved his other arm beside you to support himself. things were moving slowly, both of you gradually waking up in the best of ways. your hands eagerly traced the map of his body, traveling from his strong arms to his firm chest. you loved this man, loved how he moved, laughed, talked; everything about him was perfection. fingers found themselves at his thighs, working small circles into his muscles as he pants against your neck. it was a heated event as it most often is, his lips skipping the gap to your mouth to greedily slip his tongue between your lips. he slots his hips to your own, and you allowed a steady wave of your body against him to give yourself the upper advantage.

the moan that passed between his mouth only proved that it worked, and you do it again to throw him off. he felt his grasp of dominance slipping away from him, and he detangled his hand from your hair to follow down your stomach, slipping it under the hem of your shirt. he pushed you back to the bed, you squirmed beneath him as bokuto pulled back for air, sun kissed eyes looked over the expression on your face.

your coated lips pursed, “not fair, daddy.”

your voice breaks, still groggy from the early morning daze but no less grabbing a laugh from your lover's throat. it’s a full sound, one that pulses through his whole body as he looks down at your pouted face. you’re too precious, he decides, and his lips goes for yours once again.

you take it slower this time, catching the idea he was coming across, though still with a rested hand to your abdomen. bokuto rarely ever was in control, and in the beginning hours of the day he wanted to make you happy. he nudged your shirt with his arm, signaling for you to take it off to which you greedily obey. your hands peel the shirt and toss away the clothing, leaving your body bare except for panties. bokuto drinks in the sight of you, breasts exposed as you stare at him with love-filled eyes. you both exchange a tranquil look, a small smile – this is love, this is everything they've ever needed; each other.

bokuto’s lips graze above your sternum, kissing your heartbeat in a soft rhythm as cool fingertips dip close to your hips, around the cloth of your panties to pull them down ever so slightly. you sigh in content, fingers gradually making their way to the elastic of his boxers, palm pressing to his cock as he groans, leaning into your hand. he drove you wild, no matter the case, and as he gives way to allow you to pull down his boxers his lips latch onto a hardened nipple, pressing your bodies close as his fingertips skim across your damp entrance. a louder moan escaped you this time, interrupting the still morning air as you buck closer to him. he relishes in your glazed glances, how you sing sweet sounds for him, and suddenly your hands are on his cock, and it rumbles a deep groan from the back of his throat. it reverberates through your ribs, wracks your heart and you practically mewl for him. you rolled your wrist in teasing flicks, and if bokuto glanced up he'd notice the smirk on your lips because you were winning.

his tongue dips to the next nipple, working his way to gain back the advantage, however sloppy he's getting. he can feel a knot in his stomach tighten, his shoulders tense up. large hands curl around your wrist, pressing it to the firm mattress as he parts his lips from your chest, “baby, do you want this to end before it begins?”

the blunt objection causes wispy laughter between the two before you slip your hand from his grasp to place it at his jaw.

“i love you.”

it’s a soft bundle of words, wrapped in love from golden vocals as he offers a soft chuckle to your skin. he shifted, pulling himself closer to you as his lips found yours, suckling sweetly on the bottom half.

“i love you more.”

he guides himself slowly into you, earning tiny whimpers; you are warm around him, you are pleasure in its entirety and addicting as hell. he hadn't realized he was holding his breath until his lungs promised to pop, and he released the air from his body in short gasps. he waited, allowing the beauty under him to adjust before you gave a knowing nod, and he begins to move.

it’s a quiet affair at first, skin meeting skin the only sound that shakes the bed before you mewls out his name. this fueled bokuto even more, rocking his hips back and forth, responding with arches of your body and pressing touches to his skin. your lips attack his own in ferocity and he finds himself driving faster into you. he knows he hits the spot when your nails are curving crescent moons into his shoulder, fingers wrapped in sheets and lips parted in ecstasy. the look alone could send bokuto into instant pleasure, but he rides it out to share the moment with you. your mouth searched for the dips in his neck and he's calling out with you, whispering your name and pressing into you further. he can feel your stomach tie in knots, feeling the way you twist into him as rough, calloused fingers begin a smooth massage to your clit. this pushed you over the edge, the very galaxies you praised yourself above shooting in your sight as your body hummed with delight at the racing of energy that courses through you. your walls tightened around his cock.

“bo, i’m cumming— i’m cumming!”

the tone is sultry and lovely and full of lust and love, and bokuto is gone. a shooting arrow of pleasure that latched onto his veins, flowed through his bloodstream as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

your chests heave against each other as he slowly pulled out of you, nearly dropping to his side of the bed out of exhaustion in the moment. he rolled to his side, honey golden eyes looking over the silhouette of you and when you do the same to him, you lean over and plant a kiss to his jaw to confirm their thoughts.

“same time tomorrow?”

241 notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 3 years

Text

Um .. yes thank you 😩😌

Credit: youcangohomenow.bye (on Tik Tok) & riyaxartist (on Instagram)

#anime #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk sukuna #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna headcanons

284 notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 3 years

Text

I wish I could pick a favorite, but they are all SO GOOD

Period Sex w/ the JJK Men

(NSFW): JJK men x F! Reader

w/ Megumi, Toji, Yuuji, Gojo, Getou, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Mahito, Toge, Yuta, and Noritoshi (all characters aged up)

warning/tags: too many kinks to list, you’ve been warned 😳

Keep reading

5K notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 3 years

Text

Pure gem he is 😍

Dating Yuuji Itadori / When He gets jealous Hcs

**REPOSTED FROM MY OLD BLOG AND ADDED MORE HCS**

Request: hiiii are you still taking headcanons requests? if so can you please do itadori x reader dating hcs (general like what kind of bf he would be and stuff) / Can I request jealous yuji itadori 🥺

Author Note: I had a lot of fun writing these headcanons.

Please excuse any grammar or spelling.

Word Count: 518

Being A Boyfriend

He would the most sweetest and playful type of boyfriend in the existence being completely honest.

Respects your boundaries that you set with him and will always ask before doing something

He wants to make sure you are okay with him and comfortable with him.

Will take mental notes of the things you love and dislikes

He would cook your favorite dish, surprisingly is good chef due to being living alone when his grandfather was in the hospital.

He would love to cuddle with you while reading manga to watching anime/movies with you

He would casually rub your back when you are laying on in any sort of way.

He would draw random shapes on your palm when you are talking to him, it helps him pay attention and loves how your hand feels in his palm.

If you love a certain anime or movie, he will get you a copy of movie or series along with figure or a poster of it.

He would always try to cheer you with your favorite sweets when he knows you are upset about something.

He would hold your hand 24/7 if you let him

He would super affection with his s/o in public but do let him know if you feel uncomfortable doing PDA

Gives the best hugs and kisses

Definitely, the type to lift you off from the ground when he hasn’t seen you for a while and twirl

He would make sure to bring back a souvenir if he is super far away due to mission.

He would always give you random forehead kisses especially loves it when you get caught off guard. Dork

He would ask for advice from Kugisaki Nobara and Fushiguro Megumi about anything girl-related he doesn’t understand or is worried about.

He will be gentleman completely like holding the door for you to even kissing your knuckles when you guys are spending time together.

He will always try to be there when you need someone, so don’t be afraid to talk to him.

If you tell him that you are insecure about your body or skin, he will kiss you and drill in your head one way or another that you are beautiful. He doesn’t care if he needs to repeat it over and over again.

He loves you regardless <3

When he gets jealous:

He will get handsy unconsciously like putting his hand around your waist

Tugging on your shirt like a child wanting attention.

He doesn’t like feeling this way, but he can’t help it.

After having a conversation with him, seeing how handsy he got when you were talking to someone who is more normal than him to hotter than him.

His fear not being enough for you, because you deserve better than him.

Please try reassure him which will make him almost cry at your heartfelt words.

He ends up falling asleep holding you in his arms

Ever since he tries not to gets jealous anymore since he knows your heart belongs to him.

He trusts you enough however goes keeps an eye out for any signs of you being uncomfortable.

Thank you for reading!

Comments/Reactions are greatly appreciated!

MASTERLIST!

1K notes · View notes

herhappyplace · 3 years

Text

Loved thiss. Want a bf like this bruhhh

BOKUTO AS YOUR BOYFRIEND

a/n — this ones been requested a lot but i couldn’t find the request i put in my drafts bleh <3 time for one of my favourite best boys !

☾ BOKUTO laughing until your sides hurt, his booming laugh filling the room before calming down just to meet his gaze and laugh even harder. piggy back rides as his hands grip under your thighs, his touch still warm against yours. seeing the sun in two eyes of gold, salt and pepper hair and a bright smile. facetime calls during his breaks at practice as he beams, giddily telling the team to say hi. loud love confessions because he’d scream it to the world if he had to. his arms wrapping around you after a win, feet leaving the ground as he wraps them around your waist, shamelessly kissing you under the stadium lights like you were truly his greatest victory.

☾ his face in the crook of your neck, eyes fluttering closed as your fingers smooth through his flat hair, knowing it was always the fastest way to settle him down. waking up as he peppers kisses to your face, hair over his eyes and a sleepy grin, his chest warm when he pulls you against it. countless “five more minutes.” before he leaves for practice each morning, his heart melting when your arms around his waist tighten, allowing himself to hold you close for a little longer - although he always ends up tripping over his own feet when he realises he’s late, but he still smiles because it was worth it. a pout on his face when he has to leave, but never without telling you he loves you so much as he kisses you goodbye.

☾ passionate public kisses and his hand always on yours, random photos throughout the day of things that reminded him of you. flexing his muscles playfully when you compliment him, insisting he carry you to the bathroom each morning because the floors colder in the morning — seeing pink dust his cheeks as he beams when you compliment him on how strong he is. watching romantic movies at the weekend, hearing him quote the confession scene not realising his gaze is on you instead as he sniffles beside you. spontaneous dates dressed in his clothes, late night food pick ups and dance parties in his car to your shared playlist at 3am.

☾ hearing him hype you up whether you’re dressed up or in pyjamas because you always looked just as breathtaking to him. his gaze meeting yours before his serve, a grin on his cheeks because they were always for you. stolen kisses before each game because he “can’t win without them.” teary i miss yous over facetime when he’s away for a game, tear stained cheeks when you reunite at the airport. returning home from practice to tell you he missed you even though he’s not been gone long, but the love in his eyes tells you he means it anyway.

☾ watching him blush when you pepper his face with kisses, his hands always finding their way to your waist as he holds you close “my turn.” spoken through a giggle as he begins to return the favour. nights pulled against his chest as you sleep beside him, arms tightening as you shuffle beside him - a sleepy kiss placed on your shoulder in his half conscious state. being pulled into his lap whenever you walk by, hands gripping at your thighs when his lips claim yours. your morning routines always involving each other, his chest pressed against your back as you brush your teeth - his arms around your waist from behind as you make breakfast.

☾ his hand on your thigh while he drives, fingers tapping the tune of a familiar love song as he glances at you, briefly but it’s still full of love. play fighting as he tickles you, chasing you around the house just so he can cuddle with you. packing the owl plushie you got him on your first date in his bag when he leaves to go overseas, he always said it was the next best thing to sleep with besides you. him always being observant of your feelings, knowing what you need - he always did. your bright grin mirroring his as he smooshes his cheek against your hairline. lazy weekends in bed just for him to flop on-top of you when you try to get up to pee, eventually escaping just for him to follow you in, and the world seems like it’s waking with both your shared giggles, because it’s moments like these you swear the world belongs to you and him, because when you fell in love with bokuto kōtarō, he made you fall in love with life too.

1K notes · View notes