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hoseoksluna · 5 months

Text

STORY | knj

pairing: soft dom!namjoon x reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.8k

summary: yours and namjoon’s story is a bit more perverted than traditional.

warnings: serious big dick namjoon, rough touches, hair pulling, use of pet names and titles, dom/sub dynamics, horny namjoon can't help but palm himself:(, desperation, masturbation, spanking, praising, tit slapping, nipple play, teasing, oc and namjoon not being comfortable with certain practices, playful orgasm denial, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), rimming && ass play :3, cum eating yum yum, tit fucking, orgasm countdown fuck

note: smut is so fucking difficult to write but i loved every second of it. i love writing about namjoon, he just makes me feel so safe. this is purely my fantasy with him and i'll probably dream about this for a long, long time. please, take your time reading this as it's pretty long. i hope you enjoy it and that it makes you dream like it made me dream. as always, let me know what you think in the comments, like the post and if you want to—reblog, but i won't pressure you angels <3. love you guys so much, thank you for all the love. kisses!

side note: i miss namjoon and i wish he were here. all i can do is watch his lives and pretend he never left for the military.

Namjoon makes himself comfortable on the wooden chair before you.

The scene is set. Like a mermaid bathing in the sun, you rest your elbows on the cold rim of the ivory bathtub. Small surges of violet-tinted water, perfumed with your scent, blanket your body in a thin layer of glittery sheen. They kiss the tiger stripes along the curve of your bottom as it rolls over, passing by the dip in the small of your waist, breathing in your patchouli fragrance in greeting. The bath bomb, cornered by your knees, sizzles and spins, the width of the tub allowing your form to float like a little fish in the open sea as copiously as you please.

A gift from your loving boyfriend. Both the clawfoot, and the bath bomb.

The scene expands. Your Eric slouches in his seat, balancing his greatest and most stellar possession on top of his lap with one hand while he runs the other through his silver mane. He fits perfectly in the picturesqueness of the background. Soft orange and chocolate tiles zig zag behind his back, transposing him momentarily into a sunlit illustration, where he rests in the shade of a palm tree on a faraway beach. Reads the book to pass the time as he waits for you to emerge from the waters. Sets it down on his lap as soon as his gaze catches yours. Periwinkle clams for a bra, panties thin and translucent from the oncoming waves, you rest your front on the sand. He smiles down at you and you know for a fact you won’t be able to get on your feet. Might have to learn how to walk, too.

You keep this picture in your heart. Mentally, you rip out the page. Fold it and tuck it somewhere within you to keep it safe.

Legs outstretched by the sides of the tub, clad in slacks in the muted color of a persimmon, it’s almost as though you’re propped on his lap. Sporting a simple white button-down, sleeves rolled, you’re close enough to touch the material if you so much as wished so. From his angle, Namjoon sees nothing but the roundness of your eyes through the brownish rims of his glasses, hair unkempt in their dampness as the short paper thin layers frame your flushed face in such a celestial way. If he were to lean over, it’d be a different kind of book.

The one in the clasp of his hand isn’t a tale as old as time.

It’s one of your favorites. An existential story that ridicules the traditional. A transfusion of liveness to a certain forgotten room of your heart. The unlit one while the others brim with sunlight, with the golden sepia projection of the contents of the fairytales you love so much made into stop motion. A coloring book of some sort, hues fitting into the lines by your helping hand—the attention of your eyes.

Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. The book that sweeps away all those cobwebs in that chamber. Makes it less lonely.

It’s all you had talked about on your dates when you and Namjoon first started dating, having been reading it at the time. You had confided in him that the writer was the only person who understood you without ever learning your name, without familiarizing himself with the subtleties of your calamitous life.

No one has ever shared something so vulnerable with him, especially not on the first date. Not that he’d gone on many, but the few that fell into his grasp were hell to get through. Insufferable, to say the least. Absolutely superficial.

He went home in the rain thinking of you. Not for boyish reasons. But for reasons of literary character, of melancholy nature that squeezed his long-unexpressed heart in perpetuating intervals too consistent for his liking. Filled it with a nectar bubbling with a newly blooming love for books, with a sudden longing to be found within the words. His body decided for him that it was yours. Yours to teach again how to read between the lines.

The scene breaks out of the margins on the page.

“Is the water warm enough?”

The idea constructed by his own geniality, it’s by his will that you’re basking in your bare femininity before his eyes. Idleness lingered in the living room between the pair of you, the flimsy curtain by your balcony lifting and falling in a little dance as the cold air perfused the place with the drowsiness of winter. Pulling his eyes away from the TV to sink a soft kiss into your hair, Namjoon muttered into your ear: “How about I draw you a bath and read to you for a little bit?”

You said nothing. The click of your phone turning off and your hasty movements to untangle yourself from the warmth of his limbs answered him for you. Leaving your clothes as a trail for him to follow, you gave him a glimpse of your ass, arched and pointed in the draft before you ran away. Before he scolded you with his index finger like a father, raising to his feet to close the balcony door.

In two seconds he joined you in the bathroom. Leaned against the doorframe as you circled a pink roll-on lip oil you’ve been obsessed with lately around the perimeters of your lips. The one that makes them look bigger, juicier. That makes them more fun to kiss and toy with. The one that leaves his length sticky once playtime is over. You seem to cast aside little trinkets of yourself for him to collect everywhere you go.

Tits pushed towards each other while you slightly bent over the vanity sink, tapping the excess into the fullness of your mouth, Namjoon palmed himself. The tiredness from work earlier weakened his self-control to the point of unrestrained indulgence. And the plumpness of your ass just encouraged it.

You fluffed your hair and Namjoon ran the bath. Disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to retrieve the purple bath bomb from the plastic bag on the counter, one that he got from the convenience store for you. Dragon fruit and hibiscus. Thought of the twinkle that would sparkle beneath your lashes upon seeing it. Wasn’t disappointed when you exceeded his expectations.

Having seen it in the mirror, almost microscopic and round in his big palm, you turned on your heel and burst into giddiness as he took off the plastic packaging with his teeth. You pouted in gratefulness when he showed it to you.

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

You hugged him, locking your hands behind the nape of his neck. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, and he told you so. A bit hoarsely, though.

Namjoon struggled not to moan. Groaned a little when he felt the curvature of your belly against his hardness and the pointed nubs of your tits beneath his pecs. Managed to conceal it, thankfully, by clearing his throat and by allowing an authentic grin to bloom on his dimpled face at your joy. Thanked the heavens for all the bath bombs in the world.

He placed it in your much smaller palm for you to plop it into the increasing water. Watched your eyes widen at the gilded glitter spreading around. Spurred you to get in. Held your hand as you lifted one limb, then the other. Knelt by you as you engulfed yourself in the violet tinge, your hair swirling around you, silky and ethereal, coming to a stop at the top of your head to fix a splendid crown for such a princess like yourself.

Namjoon turned off the tap while you rested your back against the curved wall of the tub. You swooshed your hands around, gathering the glitter into the fine lines of your palms. Looked up at him in elation, the twinkle doing its thing in the glossiness of your eyes, and smiled. Namjoon smiled back at you. His hand reached out to your chest in a fervent need to touch you. The glitter adorned your chest with its perfect speckles and they resurfaced when you arched your back in response. Clung to his palm in the middle of your tits, held on tighter as he took a detour to your chin by brushing across your sensitive nipple to hear your little mewls because if he made a sound, then you must, too. Because if he was horny, he must get you on the same page as well. Fairness is very important to Namjoon.

He squeezed your breast hard. Pinched your nipple between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger in broken intervals, similar to little dashed lines of Morse code. You imagined he was telling you something through that secret language as you closed your eyes during an intense wave of pleasure coursing down your body, and perhaps he truly did because he pulled your legs apart harshly when you pressed them together. Punished you by lightly slapping your tit—the same one he abused with those firm touches—the force splashing you in the face with violet pearls. All as if you disobeyed the command he transmitted wordlessly.

The command possibly being: Only I will give you the release you need when I decide it’s time.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the neediness erupting in you. Namjoon wrapped his hand around your throat and you dragged his rolled sleeve further up his arm, so it wouldn’t have gotten soaked in the water. He smeared your lip oil just because he wanted—just because he could, scattering the rosy tint around your mouth messily. He took advantage of the aftermath of his punishment and collected those tender beads, now translucent upon your carmine skin. Not with the thumb as you expected him to, but using the pillows of his lips, he kissed the round bulb on your cheek. It melted on the puffy surface when he withdrew. He looked you in the eye for a mere beat of time before he lowered to your other cheek to collect another trinket. None of the corners of your mouth were overlooked, not even the button of your nose. He peppered those kisses to erase the harshness of his selfishness, supporting your lifted chin with his long thumb beneath it, still sticky from the consistency of the lip oil, apologizing, smoothing down his sternness until you giggled.

Once he cleaned you, Namjoon returned the digit to your smudged mouth, delicious in his sight due to the essence of sloppiness that gets his length even harder in his pants. He presses the pad against it, already craving your tongue. You kissed it, a thank you for his softness, before you granted him the access. Tongue toying with the tip, you said hello in the mother language of the love stored in your bodies for each other. Wrapped both of your hands around his wrist. Didn’t break eye contact. Smiled, teeth showing happily, when he bit his lip, but soon got distracted by a small movement on his groin area out of your view.

You peeled your back off of the tub to curiously take a peek, but Namjoon pushed you back to your place. All while his thumb remained sucked by your mouth. You frowned at him, dismayed by his recurring roughness that you weren’t used to.

Namjoon tapped your cheek twice with his fingers to let you know it was enough and rose to his feet.

“Joon, what’s going on? Why are you so rough with me?” you asked, voice tender, the question shooting arrows into the wideness of his back.

Stopping in the doorway, he hung his head, fingers coming to intertwine with the short hair above his neck. “I’m sorry, baby. Let me get the book.”

A moment later, he returned with the stellar possession in one hand and a wooden chair in the other. He slumped against it, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly.

You swam forward as if to the shore, propping your elbows on the rim to be closer to him.

“Is the water warm enough?”

You nod, your teeth picking at the excess skin on your lips. Namjoon notices and, as if registering the reason why you put on the lip oil in the first place, he leans towards you and rubs away the smudginess he caused. As if the walk into your dining room sobered him enough from the dark wine of his lust that he now regretted his actions.

“You really scared me when you were rough,” you said calmly, unafraid to uncover your feelings, knowing you’ll be caught now that you’ve jumped head-first into the hungry sea of honesty.

He apologizes again. Repeats it in the aphonic form of a deep chaste kiss.

“Won’t do it again,” he promises. “Unless you ask me to.”

Your lips form a smile, but it quivers into a straight line just as quickly as it appeared. The yet unknown cause behind his untypical behavior troubles you.

“Did something happen today at work?”

Namjoon sighs. “No, I’m just tired.”

“Just tired or tired of your job?” you try, tilting your head to the side, remembering this isn’t the first time quiet broodiness clutched his figure when the clock struck five.

“Both.” He kneads the heel of his palm against his eye.

Not expecting his honesty, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It propels you to investigate further. Gives you the green light. Namjoon usually keeps to himself when it comes to work-related storms, holding respect that reaches the bottom of his heart for those above him and for his peers as well.

“Did someone make you upset?” you ask, paving your way in this inquiry to the realm of understanding so you can help him. At least in a small way.

He drops his hand, gazes up the ceiling to stare at a fixed point. Perhaps he’s looking for words, perhaps he’s avoiding the question altogether. The regret of your prying swallows you. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped a boundary.

You reach out your arm, wrapping wet fingers around his wrist on his lap. The gesture says, ‘you don’t have to tell me but I’m here,’ and you squeeze the limb to emphasize that. As if he heard you, he looks down at you. His eyes that are usually narrowed into slits now round in tenderness. The swallowing lets go, the lump that threatened to obstruct your throat disappears.

“It’s Friday, Joonie, and you can forget about your job for a little while. It’ll get better,” you say, caressing his soft skin.

To your another surprise, Namjoon nods. Slips his fingers into the hollowness between yours, squeezing back, saying, ‘I hear you.’ Your heart jumps with gladness that you haven’t made a mistake, that instead your reassurement made a difference.

To lighten up the atmosphere, you begin to joke around.

“Should I beat them up?” You raise your brow in mischief, a goofy smile coating your face in lightheartedness.

A grin cracks on his face. “Don’t get your hands dirty for me, baby.”

You scoff, half-seriously and half-unseriously shaking your head at his eagerness to please but never letting himself be pleased. “But I want to. I’ll do it for you.”

Namjoon shakes his head as well. Leans over to you. Cradles your head in his hands and kisses you. Picks the hair plastered on your face and puts it away. You forget all of your jokes for a moment, breathless. Your neediness nudges you in your sensitive parts, reminding you of its lingering presence.

“Come on, Joonie,” you coo, prolonging the vowels, the best you could come up with considering his allure, “I’ll fight them,” you start to construct your imaginary plan, the dimples adorning his face making it a bit harder for you to get the words out, “then, they’ll be scared of me and they won’t bother you again. Because if they do, I’ll smash their fucking teeth in. And then… then, you’ll get your peace for good. Easy.”

Namjoon listens with his features bathed in enamoredness, seemingly lost in a deep thought. A twinkle, a twin to yours, glistens in his eyes. Dimples out provoking you, he softly smiles at you. Coyly. He’s unaccustomed to being the one fought for. He’s always been the one who fights. The one who settles, resolves, makes things right. He’s never been the person these things are done for by another person. It makes his heart pulsate in a strange new rhythm.

He stretches out his hands and runs his fingers through your hair. Begins to plait an intricate braid down your back, keeping you caged in the confines of his arms. Safe. Protected. His warrior princess.

“There’s something else you can do for me,” he mumbles, finished with your braid. Now your hair is away from your face, just like he needs it for what he’s about to do.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow in question, your smirk growing on the side of your face. “Like what?”

“I’m so hard for you, baby,” he whispers into your ear, shoulders hunched, lips tracing the edge of your earlobe. A secret just between the two of you. “My body’s confused. I need a release.”

Even though you saw it coming, even though you saw it a hundred times before, you can’t help but gasp at his desperation, bare and open before you. It’s a new experience each time. Thrilling and titillating, the vividness and ferocity of his sexuality. It causes a flock of playful butterflies to buzz you with electricity in your tummy and a shiver to run down your spine. You feel your own neediness making itself known again and you squeeze your thighs together.

This is the Namjoon you know. Strong in his softness. Mellow. Intense. The Namjoon who showed you plain roughness was a stranger to you, one you could take the time to get to know, because now you understand that the incentive to act like he did was his frustration from work. You can’t really blame the natural inclination of his body—his body that is yours to love in all shapes or forms.

You perceive he needs to let out some steam—he said so himself. Proud of him for voicing it out, a decision to be his helper already makes a way to your heart. You no longer feel slivers of consternation slithering in your veins. Knowing the cause, knowing it’s still your Namjoon helps you submit to the call of his needs. If a dab of roughness is what entails the sand-speckled footpath to the seaside of his well-being, you’ll take it. Welcome it, even. Within the realm of your established boundaries, that is.

“Can I see?”

The book falls to the floor with a thud. Namjoon stands up.

Ever so eager. Responding to his body language out of pure instinct, you hum and lift yourself to your knees. The outline of his engorged length, tight in his pants, greets you and you will your brain not to tell your fingers to rub your swollen clit. To busy your hands, you grip the rim until white brushes along your knuckles.

Emerging from the water, it left you smothered in a luster of wet silkiness. Namjoon’s eyes rake over your bare femininity. Heavenly, pure, seraphic. Groans a little loud. Doesn’t know whether to touch you first or his painfully hard and heavy member. You move your body to the side wall of the tub and he follows you, hand opting for his girth to relieve himself a little bit.

You sit prettily on your folded legs and lean over, pulling his wrist away. You plant a dewy kiss to the middle of his clothed length and look up at him, just at the right time to catch him whimpering. Your clit pulses again and you feel like crying, needing release as much as he does. He doesn’t make it easy for you, making sounds like that.

“What does my baby girl need me to do?” you ask, stroking his member while stifling your giggles at the title that fits him so well.

“Baby girl?” He frowns down at you.

It’s usually what he calls you, hence why his confusion. And you call him by an entirely different title, too.

A giggle does escape your mouth after all. You squeeze at his tip, drawing those delicious whimpers out of him again.

“Only needy little baby girls make sounds like that. You are needy, aren’t you?” You lick that sensitive part, palming his balls.

Namjoon whines.

The shift of dynamics, the change of titles ever so dizzying to the mind. He doesn’t even have the strength to correct you.

He grips the back of your head and moves you away from his cock. Then the realization he’s being rough again wafts over him and he softens his hold, fallen stray hairs coming to rest at your temples. Namjoon tucks them behind your ear. Taps you on the cheek once.

“Get to sucking off your baby girl,” he rasps.

You smile. Find it immensely attractive that he’s embracing the pet name while still being dominant. A masculinity in its true form.

“You can be rough with me if you want to,” you say, wanting to make that clear. “I think I can handle it.”

Namjoon traces the shell of your ear with his thumb, pondering.

“Just don’t hit me, okay?”

He says your name sternly, as if you offended him. “I would never deliberately hurt you. How can you think that?”

“No, I meant—” You lick your lips. “Don’t slap my boobs or anything. You can spank me, I like that. But don’t be as rough with me as you were. Can we take it slow? Is that okay?”

He stares at you for a moment.

“Do you trust me?”

You nod, turning your head to press a kiss into his palm. “Yes, I trust you.”

“I’ll teach you, then. We’ll take it slow,” he says, fingers stroking the side of your cheek, where a small amount of fluff creates a path for him to lay down his silent love on. “It was a mistake on my part for not preparing you for it, and for that I’m sorry. But I’ll teach you. Show you how good it is.” He pauses. “Until you beg me for it.”

Your throat dries up. The pulsing in your cunt unbearable.

“Fuck, Namjoon. Save the talk or I’ll come on the spot.”

“The talk is important,” he reprimands you. “Whether you come or not without my permission is your problem.”

“Shit,” you whimper, gripping his hand on your cheek. You tighten your hold as if to brattily change his mind on having this kind of control over your orgasm because you need to come as soon as possible. And not just once. You’re sure your dewiness is leaking into the water.

“No bad words or I’ll fuck your filthy mouth.”

You gasp. So unused to this side of him. But it turns you on, now that you feel safe. Turns you unstable.

“Say you’re sorry.”

You’re tumbling out the words before he’s even finished with his sentence. “I’m so sorry.”

He beams at your immediate submission, purring at the quintessence of your compliance. Wants more. “Who are you apologizing to?”

You pause. His usual title almost slips off of your tongue. But since this is new and you’re both experiencing a new dynamic that causes you to feel so playful, that guides you ever so gently and carefully into the kingdom of subspace, you opt for the pet name that suits him well. “To my baby girl,” you say, laughing softly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.”

He laughs as well, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. You’re giddy that you’re allowed to be wild, your inner child healing and quivering within you. You overflow with the desire to kiss him.

“What for?”

He wants you to say the full sentence. You take a deep breath.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry for having a filthy mouth and saying bad words.”

“Hm, do you regret it?”

You almost curse again. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry for being bad.”

“Good. Get to work, then,” he says. “Make that mouth useful.”

Fuck.

“Kiss me first, please. Make it better,” you beg, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

Namjoon moans and you bite your lip. Bends and sucks it between his, deepening the kiss as he opens your jaw and slips his tongue inside. Massages the muscle against yours. Makes those sounds again. Palms his cock. Withdraws with a pop.

You mewl in satisfaction. That kiss alone ruined you.

“Good girls get kisses.” Hand under your chin, he squishes your cheeks. “You’ve been exceptionally good. I’m gonna destroy you.”

He kisses you again with the same intensity but briefly, inhaling your skin. No tongue this time.

Cheeks awash with rosiness, you hastily unbuckle his belt. Not to cut time and get to his promise faster—on the contrary, you’re dying to pleasure him. He doesn’t help you like he normally does; he merely watches you as you pull down the cotton material of his slacks along with his boxers down his muscular thighs. Only when you wrap your lips around his cock from the side does he throw his head back. Thrusts his hips.

He’s rock hard. The weight of him makes you absolutely fucked out.

Namjoon likes you there so he keeps you still—there in the middle of his girth. You moan, producing as much saliva as you can to gratify him while he uses your mouth, alternating between keeping those pillows firm and soft. When he gets you to his tip, he expects you to swallow him, but you merely move your head from side to side rapidly, flicking your tongue. Namjoon groans lowly, a string of curse words spilling from his throat. His precum drops onto your chin and you suck in a breath, horny beyond your mind.

You swipe your index finger to collect it. Check if he’s watching before you plunge the digit into your mouth. Roll your eyes back as the tanginess overwhelms your senses. Namjoon hisses. Grabs your braid as if it were a ponytail. Kisses you, aching to be one with you. You feel the vibrations of his fervid mania in unity with him like this and it echoes down your body once he pulls away.

“Take it in your mouth.”

Namjoon holds it at the base for you and you find the long vein that you favor so much. Pepper kisses along the length of it, feeling it throb in tandem with your clit. Straightening your spine, you bite your lip. Give him an utter look of adoration before you swipe your tongue along the slit. Humming in delight, you slip him into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow and you begin to bob your head, fingers following your movement, bumping into his fist. Tears pool in your eyes when you dare to inch closer to his hand and even though you gag, you try your hardest to keep him nice and tucked in your warm throat. You sputter and cough, swallowing around him, because you deem he deserves it, knowing how much he loves it when your flesh contracts around him like that, and Namjoon groans deeply. It fills you with a dose of satisfaction almost akin to an orgasm, the lack of oxygen in your brain heightening the experience so much that your head spins.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “Breathe, baby.”

He slips out of your mouth. Pats you on your head before he sinks his fingers into your hair, gripping at the roots. Ascertains you pay attention to him.

“Don’t do that again,” he says, softly. “You need to breathe. Take a deep breath with me.”

You’re still on your knees and he’s merely looking down at you. You fold your hands on your lap. Your mind is so empty that you’re not sure how you feel right now, having been entirely focused on his pleasure.

Namjoon inhales deeply with his nose and you do the same.

Inhale, exhale.

Fondly, he caresses you on your cheek.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you explain yourself, thinking that you should.

“I know, baby, and you did. It’s okay, I’m not mad at you.” He smiles at you. “You hear me? I’m not mad at you.”

You nod your head yes. Pout.

“You feeling okay? Take a deep breath for me again.”

You do as he says, your senses returning to you like a warm spring wind.

“Better now?”

You nod again.

“Words.”

You wet your lips with your tongue. “Yes, I feel better now.”

“Good. Do you still wanna continue?”

“Yes, Namjoon. I wanna make you come.”

Almost like you flipped a switch, his eyes darken.

“Hands behind your back,” he rasps.

You oblige, crisscrossing your wrists below the dimples on your lower back.

“‘Atta girl. Back to work, come on.”

It’s much harder to do so without your hands, especially in the position you’re in. You hesitate.

“I don’t know if I can,” you admit.

He tuts in pity. “Should I use you then?”

You roll your eyes back, the idea intoxicating your body. You feel woozy.

“Yes, please.”

“Focus on your breathing, okay?”

“Yes, Namjoon.”

Humming, Namjoon grabs your hair gently and sinks your mouth down on his cock, moves you up and down slowly. You focus on not just sucking in your cheeks but also on breathing through your nose like he told you, although you can’t help but moan around him. It turns you on how he manhandles you to his liking so delicately. You swirl your tongue around his tip once he wants you there and you let out a series of whines and whimpers. He keeps you there for a little longer, moaning after you, the sounds creating a paradisiacal symphony. You twist your head in half circles as you continue sucking him, slobbering all over him, using your tongue to flick beneath the mushroom.

“So good, baby. Yes, fuck.” Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re gonna make me come.”

You pull away, but a string of saliva still connects you to him.

He blinks at you. “You want a spanking?”

You run the tip of your tongue along the top of your lip, giving him the eyes. Cock your eyebrow at him. Namjoon draws a sharp breath in.

He leans over. One hand tugs at your braid firmly to arch your back over the edge of the tub. The other smacks you sharply on your ass cheek, smoothing over the sting. You moan, nipples rubbing over the cold surface, curse words dying on your tongue. Namjoon grips the flesh, spanks you again. Skims his fingers over your exposed heat. Repeats it on the other cheek, twice in a row. You wiggle your hips, needing to feel more, needing him to touch you right there between your legs. You cry out into his ear.

Letting go of your braid, Namjoon kisses you beneath your jaw. Slides his tongue along the sensitive spot, sucking it between his lips. A secret message that he hears you, that he’ll fuck your needy cunt soon.

“Think you’ll be a good girl for now?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you nod a few times. Not a single rational thought passes through your brain.

Namjoon straightens. Pulls down his foreskin for you. “Spit on it.”

You watch as your liquid love trickles down and lands on his tip. He hums and surprises you by wrapping your hands around his girth, spreading down the lubrication with you. You feel the ridges and the thick vein in a new, vehement way and even though you’re not the one pleasured, you moan. The simple up and down movement grows in rapidness that your body follows, emulating the effort, making it seem like you’re bouncing on a dick. Your ass splashes the water around, creating tender waves full of love, inherited from your still leaking dewiness.

His hands are so warm enclasped around yours, pressed tight. Not once unclenching.

You start blabbering.

“You’re so big. I can’t even wrap my hand around you.” You make sure to look him in the eyes as you say it. “So big in my mouth, too. Could barely fit you.”

Your words set those twilit embers in his eyes on fire. His breathing quickens. He’s close again and you’re stunned, once more, by the vividness of his sexuality. Your hands go limp in his grasp.

“Nuh-uh, keep up the pace,” he husks. “Thought I was your little baby girl?”

You shake your head, willing your hands to gain strength again, but it has no source to draw from. “Not anymore.”

Namjoon chuckles, darkly. Notices your movements fluctuating, arms shaking. “Tired?”

You nod and he unclasps his hands. You twist your wrists in circles to alleviate them from a cramp.

Then, you get an idea.

Sitting back on your heels, you arch your back. Tip your chin down and spit on your chest, the essence flowing down the pathway between your breasts. You do it again, though this time you spread it on your skin.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon mumbles. Unbuttons his shirt. You squeeze your nipples with both hands as your eyes flick to his, then down to his exposed chest. “How are you gonna address me, huh? What’s my name?”

He forcefully tugs the fabric off of his arms, tossing it on the floor. His body—with its vulgar beauty, broadness and definition—takes your breath away. You don’t let it show, or perhaps you pretend that you don’t because you allow your hand to travel down your stomach. Namjoon imitates you, running his fingers down the chiseled muscles that make you drool. He stops at the hair adorning his pelvis. You don’t.

You rub circles on your clit instead.

“Daddy,” you cry out in pleasure, announcing his title—his rightful, most fitting title. Face contorting at the brisk, blooming flashes of sensuality rising up your form.

His body tenses. It’s like he’s stopping himself from reaching for you, pulling you out of the bathtub and spanking you until your bottom resembles the water. Or tugging at his length until he paints you white with his cum.

You make it easy for him.

Lifting your body, you step over the edge of the bathtub. Kneel at his feet on the fluffy black mat. Far enough for him to see purple liquid pearls make their way down to your cunt. Far enough for him to see how you resume those circles on your bundle of nerves, fingers reaching to your hole for lubrication. You roll your hips into your hand, arm propped behind you.

“What’s this show?” Namjoon rasps, his cock twitching. “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself. You wanna end up with zero orgasms?”

You pause.

“That’s what I thought,” he says. “I believe you have unfinished work to do.”

You smile mischievously. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

Namjoon nods. Holds out his hand. “Come to Daddy.”

Exuberantly, you leap into his arms. Namjoon throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and walks into your shared bedroom. Sets you down on your bed, spreading your legs, and he crouches between them, reaching into his bedside table for the tool that he wants.

The aroma of strawberries lovingly boops you on the nose. Namjoon squirts a good amount of lubrication on your chest, paying special attention to the pathway in the middle of your breasts. He massages it in, incorporates your sensitive nipples in the preparation, coaxing whimper after whimper out of you by squeezing them and rolling them between his long fingers.

“I’m gonna make a mess,” you say, grinding your hips against nothing.

Namjoon clicks his tongue. “Already?”

Your dewiness oozes out of you onto the bedding. To prove your point, you lean back on your elbows and lift your knees, revealing your dripping hole and the shine of your soaked folds. Namjoon stares at your cunt but doesn’t touch, doesn’t blink. He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes to yours.

He kisses the middle of your tummy. Moves over to your heat. Licks a tiny stripe on your clit.

You cry out.

“Namjoon!”

Hands on either side of your waist, crawling up to you, he growls. “Good girls are patient, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t wait for your response.

“They take what is given to them and they finish what they started,” he continues. “Don’t they?”

You nod.

“And you are a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl.”

“Then thank your Daddy for what he gave you.”

Your walls squeeze around nothing when you hear him utter his title. It refreshes your body with energy.

“Thank you, Daddy.” You smile.

Namjoon kisses you, rewarding you.

“Sit up.”

Changing the layout, it’s Namjoon who reclines halfway on the bed while you sit perched on your knees between his legs, cock in your face. He spurts the lube on his length and jerks himself off, his skin shining in the abrupt spillage of burnt-orange sunlight from the window. Watches your eyes round in astonishment similarly to the way they did earlier when you had gazed upon the glitter swarming around you.

He nods at you, giving you the green light, and you sheathe his girth into the tightness of your squished tits. You may start a face pace from the get go, fucking him into oblivion, but all Namjoon sees is the whites of your eyes, the glimmer, the pure enjoyment of what you’re doing while the rest of you is immersed in subdued late afternoon shadows. Sweat glistens on the planes of his face, dribbling down to the strained column of his neck.

It’s intense. So intense that he can’t vocally react.

Precum appears once more on his mushroom, displaying his arousal, and you slurp it up, the braid coming undone—your hair falling around you like a curtain.

It’s brutal. It’s wet.

Namjoon gathers your hair to the side in a makeshift ponytail and leans over to be closer to you. Needs you like this. Feels his relief catching up to him the more effort you put in, the more you stick out your tongue to flick at that sensitive part of him whenever you can.

“Want your come. So bad. Want it all over me,” you whisper, and that’s it for him.

“Say please,” he murmurs, and it’s barely a sound, but you hear him.

“Please, Daddy, come for me.”

Pulling your hands away, Namjoon takes charge. Fucks your tits in frenzy, your hair, now half dry, tickling your skin. With his thumbs, he stimulates your nipples to coax those little sounds of yours and—

“Play with your pussy,” he commands. “But don’t come. Tease yourself like you teased Daddy.”

The relief on your face inches him closer to his. He hears the wetness as you dip a finger in, your walls sucking it in. He hears your breath get stuck in your throat. The slow crescendo of your moans. Suddenly, he hears himself too.

Whiny, desperate, so unlike himself.

It’s a fortress of safety, his forehead on top of yours. His nose bumping against yours. Open mouth ghosting over the sounds of your well-deserved pleasure. It’s a safe place for him to come in.

And he does.

Ropes upon ropes of come color you ivory white, color you clean. The reversal of a coloring book—changing the lines, changing the scheme, changing your life.

You milk him dry, your pussy long forgotten. Milk him until he pushes you away, chest heaving, unable to catch his breath. You just watch him, his seed hot on your chest. Glittery. And not just there. On your neck, on your chin, in the wavy strands of your hair.

You’re in awe of him. You can see the pressure leaving him like a ghost slinking out of the window.

Namjoon takes off his glasses. With two fingers, he collects as much of his essence as he can and plunges them into your mouth. The other hand rests on the crook of your neck, thumb protectively over your throat. “Swallow.”

Not for long. Namjoon throws you on the bed. Doesn’t waste time.

He laps up your pussy, clit to hole, sucking your labia into his mouth. He does it again, but this time he travels a bit further. Clit, hole, ass. Tongue flat. Your screams are muffled by the rumpled bedsheet you grip.

Going back to your leaking hole, he circles the flesh before he dips the tongue in. Wraps his arms around your ass to control your squirming, feeling the dip of your spine as the sunlight kisses it. Dust particles spiral in the air—Namjoon sees it. The dark grey curtain keeping half of the world shrouded in dimness while the other illuminated, a picture cut in a heart shape due to the deliciousness of your ass.

Fuck, Namjoon longs to play with it again.

He spits on it, rubbing the saliva around it before he slides his tongue back into your wet hole. Says hello to it—long time no see—teases it, before he dips his thumb in. You arch your back even more, welcoming the intrusion, and Namjoon kisses your pussy lips as a thank you. He quivers with the craving to fuck you right there in your ass, but knows better than to do it. You’re not ready for it.

Spreading you more open, while keeping his thumb there in that sweet place, he begins to focus on your poor little clit. Swirls his tongue around it firmly, sucking it until your back trembles—goes up and down like a seesaw. The kisses he leaves there are obscene, loud, full of thankfulness that he gets to play with you. Full of love for you that he burns bright with—that propels him to flick his tongue harder. And full of joy that his stress is gone. Joy that you’ve been the helper unscrewing the steel body of heaviness off of his because, as of now, his bones feel lighter.

“You’re so good for me.” He smacks his lips against your cunt. “Fucking Daddy like that when he needed you.”

Vigorously, he rubs his face against you, shaking his head from side to side. You stretch your fingers behind you and helplessly grip the back of your thighs. Namjoon catches one of your hands, holds it with his free four fingers, sucking your clit.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, withdrawing to pay attention to your other hole, missing it. Abuses it once he spits on it, eating it, dipping his tongue in with ease since he stretched you. Fucks you there in the only way he can.

“Wanna come?” he asks and as he waits for your answer, he goes lower to drink your freshness, not letting a drop go to waste.

You’ve lost your voice screaming. “Yes, Daddy, please. I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, let me come,” you croak.

Namjoon makes a sound of appreciation, proud of you for holding out for so long without saying anything.

“I think you can,” he says. Stuffs a finger into your dripping hole and lets you adjust for a moment. Adds another. “I think you can hold it while I count to ten.”

His digits pump into you slowly. Kneeling by your side, he turns your head so you can see him, twisting your body into the position he wants. The curve of your back is so beautiful in his sight that he can’t help but run his free hand over the route that your spine has become. The route he wants to plant kisses on like flowers of various colors, adding to the coloring book, erasing the old.

And he does. Begins at the nape of your neck. Picks up the speed.

“One.”

You cry out. First before your tears rush out, pooling in your waterline. You clench your whole body in naive hope it would stall the orgasm, but it quickens it, squeezing his fingers in, so you relax your muscles.

“Two.”

A kiss to the first round protrusion of your spine. Shifting your weight to your shoulder, you take his cock into your hand.

“Three.”

The middle of your shoulder blades. You hear your wetness oozing out of you, the relief prowling closer. You whine and Namjoon understands.

“Hold it or I’ll stop,” he whispers. “I can feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers. Relax.”

You match your pace with his. Namjoon begins to pant. You feel his hot, heavy breath beneath your shoulder blades.

“Six.”

Ass shaking from the force, he jackhammers into you. Pulls out for a moment to spank you, a merciful gesture, before he’s back in. Leaves a wet fingerprint on your skin.

“Eight.”

The last protrusion of your spine. You silence your moans by pressing your hand against your mouth because they bring you closer to your orgasm, however Namjoon yanks your arm away.

“Make those pretty sounds for me, come on,” he huffs, kissing both of those dimples on your back. “Ten. Come. Come for Daddy. Come all over his hand.”

And you do.

It’s a paradise, the heat closing in on you. The loss of hearing, the muted ringing, resembling the flap of a bird’s wing. The loss of surroundings as you’re momentarily transported somewhere entirely else. A gilded illustration, perhaps a lively projection. Something, somewhere, where all is good. The orgasm rips through you and the repetitive echo of his name leaving your mouth is what brings you back. Away from the storybook into a brand new coloring book.

Namjoon strokes your hair.

He holds you in his arms, but something sticks you uncomfortably together. You peel yourself off of him and cringe. Strings upon strings of his come, gleaming with speckles of glitter, do not want you to leave. You sit on his thighs, resting your palms on his chest.

He kisses you. “Are you okay?”

You nod with droopy eyelids.

He carries you into the shower and makes a way for all colors of the rainbow to perfuse your body. To create a new storyline for the day, for the week, for the month. Reds and pinks show their faces first in the steam, and even though Namjoon is glad to see them, he looks forward to meeting the rest. To learning their objectives so he can fulfill them.

Grabbing the yellow book on the way back to the bedroom, Namjoon makes himself comfortable beside you. Is careful not to touch your face out of habit because you have a face mask on; careful not to bump into you either because you have a plate of mozzarella and sliced tomatoes on your lap. He kisses your hair, though. Doesn’t have the strength to fight internally—grabs your jawline and ever so slowly and heedfully, he kisses you, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly.

“When Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from troubled dreams, he found himself changed into a monstrous cockroach in his bed.”

BACK to masterlist

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hoshifighting · 5 months

Note

hihi!!

the urge to be brat tamed runs through my mind all day. but cheol taming his brat, SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!!!

covering your mouth and his veiny hands around your neck so your porn-like moans aren’t heard by his members.

making you suck his fingers and using your saliva as lube.

slapping you every time you moan a little to loud.

cum denial until the point where you’re literally screaming his name as if it’s your sole vocabulary begging him to let you cum while tears run down your fucked out face.

— the list goes on but here’s just a few to get a feel for!!

(literally love your posts sooooo much!!! keep up the good work ❤️)

BRAT-TAMER SEUNGCHEOL that's it.

Where Seungcheol gets jealous because his friend Jeongha, is all over you, even though your relationship is private, Seungcheol gets mad at your brat teasing. So he fucks you without mercy, separated by just one room from the members.

Word Count: 1.7k

Jealous dom! Seungcheol, Brat sub! Reader

Warnings: Smut, jealously sex, cum denial, slut shamming, begging, degradation, crying, angst, saliva as lube, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, ass slapping, face slapping, chocking and etc.

The weekend getaway with Seungcheol and your friends had started out as a much-needed break. His friends were always very nice to you, and soon they became your friends too. The idea of renting a house for this period of rest sounded very pleasant. Everyone laughed, danced and sang, while you, Jeonghan and Mingyu cooked for the group.

As the day unfolded, you noticed Seungcheol's subtle glances whenever Jeonghan was around. Unbeknownst to your friends, your relationship with Seungcheol was still a secret, and the protective side of him was on full display.

Jeonghan pulled you into a hug, the kind that lasted just a tad too long, and a conversation that seemed a bit too personal. Seungcheol's reaction was swift, though subtle. His jaw clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed as he observed the scene. He couldn't shake off the unease that gripped him.

As Jeonghan continued to chat with you, Seungcheol's discomfort became more evident. Sensing something amiss, you looked at him and asked, "Hey, everything okay?" He nodded, but his locked jaw and the intensity in his gaze told a different story.

Before the tension could escalate, Jeonghan, with his ever-present charisma, pulled you away to join another conversation. You shot a puzzled glance at Seungcheol, but he merely nodded again, though this time, there was a palpable tension in the air.

Seungcheol couldn't take it any longer. He grabbed your arm gently, pulling you aside towards a nearby bathroom. Once inside, he closed the door behind him, his expression unreadable.

"What's going on, Seungcheol?"

"You're mine for now," he declared, his voice low and possessive. His eyes bore into yours, a mixture of frustration and desire. "I can't stand seeing him all over you like that," he admitted, his voice low but intense.

A mischievous grin played on your lips as you locked eyes with Seungcheol, your fingers gently tracing circles on his arm. "Well, someone seems a bit possessive," you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Seungcheol's expression shifted to confusion, and he arched a thick eyebrow in response. His veins pulsed on his neck, a subtle display of the building anger beneath the surface.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his tone irritated

You chuckled, enjoying the playful banter. "You know, claiming me in the bathroom like that. It's almost like you want to tell the world we're together."

His eyes narrowed, the tension in his shoulders rising. "I never said that," he retorted, the veins on his neck more prominent now.

Leaning in, you whispered teasingly, "Maybe you just can't resist showing off your amazing girlfriend."

Seungcheol's jaw clenched, his frustration evident. "You're making it sound like I'm the one holding us back from going public.”

You couldn't resist pushing his buttons further. With a sly smile, you mimicked his serious expression, contorting your face into a comical version of his furrowed brows and arched eyebrow.

His eyes widened in disbelief. Before he could react, he lost his mind momentarily.

He pushed your body against the bathroom wall, a firm grip around your neck, while his lips brushed against yours. In the close proximity, he warned with a husky voice, "You're loosing your mind Y/N."

“Am I?” You couldn't help but laugh, the cut air from the choking making you gasp.

Seungcheol's grip tightened slightly, his lips hovering near yours. "You find this cool?" he questioned.

His eyes seemed to glow red furiously. The air grew thick as he sucked his teeth, not a hint of a smile on his face.

Before you could gauge his next move, he reached out, his fingers gripping the fabric of your sun dress. In one swift motion, he pulled you closer, the dress bunching up slightly.

With your dress in his hands, he pulls it up, revealing your panties, so he pulls them down hard, the lacy fabric immediately tearing in his hands. You gasp, denying to yourself "I didn't even like that one anyway..." Lie. It was your favorite.

His breath was strong against your face as he whispered, "You're mine, and I don't share.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan, feeling the wetness between your thighs.

"I'm gonna give you a lesson." Without breaking eye contact, he reached out, gently guiding your chin upward. His fingers traced along your jawline before he leaned in, whispering, "You need to learn who you belong to.”

His fingers traced a path along your lower lip, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly trailed his digits over your tongue, the intimate contact making your saliva envelop his skin.

You looked in his eyes, before sucking his two fingers, just like you would suck his cock. So he slowly pulled his fingers, making your lower lips flip back shiny with your saliva.

His wet fingers circled your clit slowly, making you hold onto him, his eyes burning you "You're such a brat," he remarked, the edge of amusement evident in his voice.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you shot back, "Well, maybe I like being a brat."

He chuckled, the tension dissipating into a teasing energy. "Do you now?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. His tone held a challenge as he continued, "Tell me, what's the appeal of being a brat, hm?"

You leaned in, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Maybe I enjoy seeing you lose your cool. It's kind of hot, you know?"

Without warning, he pushed his two fingers inside of you, making you groan. He curled his digits perfectly while his body pressed yours on the bathroom tiles, you looked to the mirror on your side, his big biceps flexing as he worked his skillfully fingers inside of you.

Your weeping cunt can be heard by him, the gushing sound hitting his senses as his fingers get wetter every second. "Look at you… So wet for me, and I didn't even started to fuck you."

"I get wet just by thinking about you getting mad."

"Yeah? Just to let you know… I am pissed off."

Without warning, he pushed your body, and you felt the cold tiles of the bathroom wall against your cheek. His strong grip held you in place, and the sudden shift left you breathless.

The sound of his belt being unbuckled echoed in the small space, you could sense Seungcheol's controlled anger. The forceful push of his big cock inside of your pussy, made you moan loud.

Before the sound could fully echo, Seungcheol's veiny hands covered your mouth, suppressing any further noise. Your eyes met his in the mirror, and your body ached against his, caught between the cold tiles and the heat radiating from Seungcheol.

He stopped his hips, his tip hitting your cervix, before taking everything out and slamming all in once inside of you again, his hands once again muffling a scream. "S-Seungcheol!"

Seungcheol gives you a harsh spank, making your body tremble, eyes closed tightly. Allowing you to take another breath, he takes his hand off your mouth. His voice, low and intense, broke the momentary silence. "You don't want the members to hear us, right?"

You can feel your walls clenching around his cock, sensing the know on your stomach wanting to be free, making him groan in response. The spongy little spot being abused with the strength of his dick knocking you.

Tears trickle down your face, your lip being bitten by yourself wasn't helping too much, as you feel your orgasm getting closer, the whimpering turning into moans, that turned into screams again.

Everytime you let out a moan escape, he gives you harsh slaps on the meat of your ass, the flesh turning red, as the skin burns like hell. "Be quiet," he instructed, his gaze locking onto yours in the mirror. His question lingered, "Is that what you want? Everyone to hear how good I am fucking you?"

Your gaze met Seungcheol's reflected eyes in the mirror, nodding yes, with a mischievous smile. Seungcheol's eyes held satisfaction, and the synchronized rhythm of his thrusts continued.

Seungcheol groaned in your ear, your weeping cunt tightening around him, and he could feel your walls milking his dick, as your world spinned, the moans leaving your throat non-stop, and he slapped you each time.

When entered on the brink of an orgasm, he pulled out his wet cock, making you whine between his grip and the wall. The denying made you sob, your clit begged attention, and your poor pussy was a mess.

Seungcheol coos at you "Slut… Can't even endure your own provocations…" his fingers wiped your tears away, before giving you a slap on the side of your cheek.

"P-please let me c-um" You begged, the tears shining with the bathroom light.

"Beg that prettily for me again."

"Please Seungcheol, I am f-ucking begging you babe." Your head lays on his shoulder.

He pushed his cock effortlessly inside of you again making you scream his name, your throat barely having power to speak. His fingers search to your sopping folds, collecting your arousal to masturbate your clit fast. And if it wasn't his tight grip on you, your knees would've found the ground already.

Seungcheol hips start to stutter, the rhythm becoming inconsistent, as a wet white ring forms around the base of his cock. His groans became more whiny, and his fingers followed a crazy unstopping pace. You struggled to breathe properly because you're more and more pressed on the wall with each thrust of him. Making your moans follow the same pace of his strokes.

"Oh my god! Please, please, pl-ease…" The begging sounded infinite as he fucked you merciless.

You're too fucked out to process anything, or hold your moans, suddently your head feels dizzy as your knees trembled, your mouth hanging open and you could only manage silent moans. The orgasm comes harshly, making you whine shakily.

His swollen cock throbs against your walls and he whimpered, with a trembling high, Seungcheol painted your walls white, the sticky cum dripping as his hips strokes lazily, his hands softening his grip on you.

"You know, I think it's time I tell the members that you're my girlfriend."

You scoffed, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "After all of that, I think they probably already know, Seungcheol."

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lotusbxtch · 4 months

Text

The Best Ride in the Galaxy (one-shot)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You have a thing for Poe's flight suit. He decides to be a cocky asshole about it. Sexy shenanigans ensue. Word count: 2k

Warnings: Explicit 18+, MDNI! Mostly porn with a little plot // Established relationship, thigh riding/dry humping, vaginal fingering, swearing, name calling, use of pet names (English and Spanish), dom!Poe, brief light violence (slap to the face), Poe uses a Spanish pet name (bebita) which is probably not canon but idc it's hot, no physical description of reader besides being AFAB and being taller standing than a sitting Poe, Poe makes a corny joke, Poe being a cocky smug asshole comes with its own warning, no use of y/n

a/n: This picture of Oscar & his thick-ass thighs, and @for-a-longlongtime mentioning how Poe-coded it was, inspired this fic in its entirety. A little over 24 hours later and here it is! This is my very first posted fic, so please show it some love, send it to someone who might enjoy it, and feel free to give (constructive) feedback if you wish! If I missed any warning tags, please let me know and I'll add them in. Big big thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for beta-reading and cheering me on, it means the world to me.

You run outside as soon as you hear the X-wings land, your heart in your throat.

It’s been 7 days, but when he left, Poe promised you it wouldn’t take more than 4 for his small band of rebel fighters to complete the covert mission. Of course he insisted on going with them; he’d been stir-crazy as of late, the endless strategy meetings and arguments amongst leadership boring him to tears. He jumped at the chance to get back into the pilot’s seat. You paced restlessly those last 3 days, imagining the absolute worst had happened to him, with no way of knowing if he was even alive.

So when you rushed out to the tarmac and spotted him climbing out of his X-wing, immense relief flooded your body, followed quickly by a potent swirl of both anger and anxiety. He spotted you, his eyes lighting up, jogging towards you with that brilliant smile.

“Hey good-lookin’,” he crooned as he approached, “didn’t miss me too much, did you?”

What he didn’t expect was for you to slap him straight across his face.

You surprised the both of you - Poe was staring back at you, open-mouthed and silent, a rare occurrence; you were staring at him, anger flashing in your eyes, your palm stinging slightly from the impact.

“Baby, I know you weren’t keen on me leaving,” Poe stammered, “but this seems a tad bit–”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING DEAD, YOU ASSHOLE!” you snapped at him, loudly enough for the people around you to look around for the source of the outburst. “You told me four days, Poe, and it’s now DAY FUCKING SEVEN.” You turned and started storming back to your pod, Poe on your heels.

“Bebita, I told you it was a small team,” Poe tried to explain while keeping up with you. “We hit some hiccups in the plan and had to hide out a bit longer than we thought. If I’d tried to contact you, it would have given away our position. You know how these missions go.”

You angrily punched in the access code to the door of your pod. “Yes, I know, which is exactly why as co-general you’re not supposed to be out in the field putting yourself in harm’s way.” The metal door slid open, and you walked forward, not even looking back at him. “I don’t care if you got bored playing politics, that doesn’t mean you get to go rogue and get back in the cockpit.” Slamming your hand on the button to slide the pod door closed, you finally turned to face Poe since slapping him. You let out a shaky breath as your rage subsided. Your stomach was morphing into a simmering pool of nerves and regret.

“Look,” Poe said, “I just… getting cooped up on base listening to those talking heads was making me crazy. I miss flying and I saw the opportunity and took it.” You knew what he said was true, but it didn’t make it any easier on you. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you scanned his body for signs of injury, until you realized… he was wearing his flight suit.

Fuck. That damn flight suit always did things to you. Obviously he had to wear it for functionality’s sake, but god, it was almost like he was made to look good in them. His shoulders looked so strong and broad, and the unisex, utilitarian cut of the orange suit somehow did nothing to hide the curve of his ample, round ass, one of your favorite features of his. You felt your mouth water as you drank the sight of him in, arousal slowly kindling in your belly.

That suit was your weakness, and the cocky smile slowly dawning on his face let you know he knew, too.

“I mean,” Poe smirked, “at least you get to see me in your favorite outfit of mine.” Walking slowly away from you to give you a clear view of his rear, he turned and sunk into the chair in your room. You followed, magnetically drawn to him while simultaneously being flustered that he caught onto your ogling. You crossed your arms and put on your best annoyed face.

“I’m sorry for slapping you, but I’m not sorry for being mad,” you said, pursing your lips and looking away. “And trying to seduce me with your stupid uniform isn’t working.”

It was, in fact, working too well. Your breathing got shallower as you tried to ignore the gentle heat filling your body from your center outwards. Poe’s smirk deepened.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a covert operative because you are the worst at lying,” he said, grabbing your thighs and coaxing you closer to him. You acquiesced, trying and failing to look irritated, the desire plain as day on your face. Poe ran his hands slowly up and down your legs from your hips to your calves. Sliding his palms back and around your ass, he squeezed and your breath hitched. You looked down and those liquid brown eyes were staring up at you, twinkling with mischief. “I know you better than that, sweet thing,” Poe teased. “You absolutely cannot pretend that me wearing this suit doesn’t make you cream your panties.”

You fought to control your traitorous body, breathing slowly through your nose as Poe lifted the hem of your shirt and planted soft kisses on your belly, right above your pants. “Fuck you, you cocky asshole,” you tried to spit viciously, but it came out sounding slightly strangled instead. This Maker-forsaken stupid man and his stupid bubble butt and this stupid suit, you thought, your fingers weaving into the curls on his head.

Poe’s smile only turned even more predatory, like a cat playing with a mouse. “Oh, I would, baby” he whispered, nipping your torso lightly, “but I haven’t showered in days. How about this instead…”

Suddenly Poe grabbed your hips, pulling you down into his lap and forcing your knees to buckle, your legs on either side of his thick thigh. His right arm wound around your lower back, holding you in place while his left hand snaked up your neck and into your hair. He pulled you in for a slow, soft kiss, which snapped the final tether preventing you from melting for him like he knew you wanted to. You surged forward, kissing him deeply, licking into his mouth and tasting the minty aftertaste of the gum he always chews while piloting. He groans, biting your lower lip, then sliding his tongue along yours. This draws your first moans out from somewhere deep in your chest, and his eyes quickly darken when you begin grinding on his thigh.

“Oh, you like that,” Poe crooned, lips turning up into a smirk. “So fucking eager for me. So desperate to cum.”

“Fuck you, Maker-damn it,” you pant, burying your face into his neck, the smell of sweat, jet fuel, and him invading your senses. “This stupid suit is going to be the death of me.”

Poe smiles wickedly. “Why don’t you take a ride on the best pilot in the galaxy before you die, then, honey?” he purrs into your ear. You roll your eyes at his cheesy line until you feel him flex the thigh you’re straddling, creating the most delicious friction against your clothed core. You let out a breathy moan and clench your own thighs around his, starting to rock your clit against his ridge of muscle through your clothes. Slick starts dripping out of you with each roll of your hips against him. Poe moves your arms to brace on his shoulders, then slides both of his hands onto your hips to help you ride him.

The pleasure in your core starts to ratchet up, and you grind yourself harder into Poe’s thigh, throwing your head back with a moan. Poe leans to your ear, kissing and lightly licking just behind and below your earlobe, that spot he knows drives you wild. “That’s it, baby, ride it out,” he whispers into your ear. “Use all that frustration to make yourself cum on my leg.” You mewl, circling your hips and chasing your high. Your pussy contracts around nothing, and suddenly all you can think about is how much better it would feel if Poe was inside of you.

“Poe,” you whine, “I need more.” Your slick is soaking through your underwear, the smell of your arousal filling Poe’s senses. He groans, his cock painfully hard in his flight suit.

“What do you need, bebita?” he says, kissing your forehead sweetly while gripping your hips like a vice, a contrast that has you moaning wordlessly. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you,” you beg, “I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me, please.” You can feel your clit throbbing, almost painfully. Poe moans into your neck. “Baby, I told you, you do not want me to unzip this suit,” he chuckles. “But I think I can still help. Lean back a little.” You comply, and watch with glazed eyes as Poe stares right back at you, slipping his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to get them wet. A shudder rips through your body when he slips both digits past the waistband of your pants and into your underwear. He groans loudly when he feels your slick folds.

“Fuuuuck me, baby, you’re absolutely drenched,” he breaths out. “Is this all for this dumb orange jumpsuit I’m wearing?” That cocky smirk reappears as he laughs at his own joke.

Letting out an annoyed breath, you huff, “it’s for you, idiot. You fucking drive me crazy. You’re the only one that’s ever gotten me this wet. Now fill me up before I lose my ever-loving mind.”

Poe lets out another chuckle. “Yes, ma’am,” he quips, and then quickly slides the length of his fingers into your cunt, forcing a moan from your lungs involuntarily. He rocks you forward again so that you’re sitting directly on his fingers, with his palm cradling your pussy. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he commands. “Take what you need from me.”

You do exactly that, rising and falling on his thigh, swirling your hips over his soaked digits, your clit rubbing against the meat of his palm deliciously. He adds another finger, stretching you out and making you want to scream. Your hips speed up as you desperately chase your high. The wet squelching and slapping sounds of your pussy on Poe’s hand echo in the room. Poe’s panting fills your ears and your wanton moans fill his. You invade his senses in every way possible, and he can feel his dick pulse with every thrust of your hips against his thigh.

Suddenly, you start feeling the knot in your core tighten as you rocket ever-closer to your orgasm. Poe moans as he feels you clench. “Fuck, that’s it, honey, I can feel you getting close,” he whispers. “Give it to me.” His hips start lifting up, grinding, pressing his length into you as much as he can.

“Oh Maker, Poe, oh fuck,” you cry as your walls tighten. “You want me to fucking cum for you?”

“Fuuuuuuck yes baby, that’s all I want,” Poe pants. “Fucking cum all over my fingers, soak my hand, honey.”

The filth pouring out of his mouth finally snaps the knot in your stomach, and you nearly scream in ecstasy as your release shatters and blooms through your body. Poe moans your name as a rush of your slick coats his hand, and you feel him bite your shoulder as his body tenses. Sated, you slump against him, his hand still pinned under your body, both of you sticky with sweat and panting for breath. Poe uses his free hand to softly cup the side of your face, pressing kisses slowly and gently across your cheeks and nose.

You sigh as he carefully extracts his hand. Just as you peer down at him, he closes his eyes and slips his fingers into his mouth, sucking every bit of your essence off. You shudder in pleasure as you watch him. He locks eyes with you, and you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

“Feeling better?” Poe asks, the warm molten brown of his eyes having returned. You sigh and giggle a little. “Yes, thank you,” you murmur quietly, “but I wish I could have made you cum too.”

Suddenly Poe looks sheepish, something that’s a rare expression for him.

“Well, uh…” he starts, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck and averting his eyes. You pause, perplexed. He glances back at you, then down at the floor, and then back at you again. Poe clears his throat before he finally speaks.

“I… actually did…”

You freeze silently, and then erupt into laughter. “Poe Dameron!” you screech. “The ‘best pilot in the galaxy’, commander of the Starfighter Corps, co-general of the entire fucking Resistance, fucking JIZZED in his pants like a teenager???” You start tittering uncontrollably, much to Poe’s embarrassment. “Shut the fuck up, idiot,” he grouses, which only makes you cackle even louder. He sighs, annoyed but begrudgingly satisfied.

“At least this suit needs to be washed anyway,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and you laugh so hard you start crying.

Tag list (it's here y'all!): @for-a-longlongtime @nerdieforpedro @lu62 @purelyoscar @clemdango04 @survivingandenduring @reggiesfilthylittlesecret @beezusvreeland @alltheglitterandtheroar @campingwiththecharmings @qveerthe0ry @agentjackdaniels @dizthemonster @beezusvreeland @queerponcho and anyone else who was interested!

EDIT:

Oh, you were looking for a part 2 to this one-shot? Well it’s your lucky day — Poe was being a total menace, so indeed there is now a part 2!

#poe dameron #oscar isaac #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x reader #star wars smut #poe makes a bad joke #oscar isaac cinematic universe

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justanothervoreblog · 2 months

Text

From Bro to Brotein

Steven and Michael have been Bros since 7th grade. They found a mutual love of working out and it soon blossomed into a full nurtured gym bromance. They kept each other accountable, they pushed each other, and they wanted to be the same size. Their target weight, the 250 lbs club. A club that was so prestigious that both men busted their ass for it.

Yet for all their dedication, Steven and Michael couldn't find a way to break into that illustrious weight category. That was until, Steven discovered a way to put on mass bulk researching weight gaining tips. To eat someone completely and utterly, digest them, and add their weight to yours. A ridiculous notion, right? It was until Steven finally put it into action.

Both men had gotten done at the gym, still slightly sweaty underneath their gym clothes. They were going to their usual post protein snack spot. Michael was hungry, but Steven was starving himself for gains. As they got out of their car to enter into the restaurant, Steven pounced. His mouth opened wider than what seemed humanly possible and wet "GLOMLP" sound was heard around Michael's ears. Michael's head had been devoured in just one gulp. Michael struggled, but Steven clamps Michael's arms by his side.

Steven swallowed Michael's head and neck, it bulges on Steven's throat going down. He could hear Michael's muffled shouts through his bulky neck. He paid them little mind as he turned his best friend into a snack. Afterwards those wide and beefy shoulders came into Steven's mouth. Steven was soaking Michael in his saliva. It draws out the taste even through the layers of fabric that Michael had on. With the widest part of Michael's body now headed down his throat, Steven knew that his meal was all but accomplished.

Steven fed his mouth Michael's chest and drooled as if this was his first meal. Steven remembered all the progress pics that Michael had taken. All that beef, it belongs to him. With another swallow, Steven can feel the bumps of those rock hard abs even through Michael's hoodie. Those delicious bumpy muscles are explored as Michael's hoodie lifts to expose them. Soon after, Steven opens his mouth to nibble and chew on those muscular globes. Michael had always had a dumpy truck ass, but tasting it now made him question himself in a few places. This temporary confusion causes Steven to slap Michael's ass a few times. Steven ignores his temporary confusion to power down the rest of that delectable bubble butt.

Michael was curling up more and more behind Steven's powerful abs. Although they were giving away to Michael's bulky and muscular form. As sure as the day is long Michael's body bulges Steven's hoodie from underneath. His long athletic legs are slowly reduced. Those hefty thunder thighs don't last long against Steven's ravenous hunger. Neither do those herculean calves, doubled up like a couple of turkey drumsticks. Steven's tongue snakes out to collect those socked feet, Michael's slides falling and clattering to the ground. With one final, hungry and triumphant gulp, Steven bellies his best friend.

There is an audible bounce when Michael truly lands inside of Steven's belly. It's cramped, squishy, and hot inside. There's barely any room to move. On the outside, Michael's form was clearly visible. Steven runs his hands over the bulge that Michael made. Every twitch of Michael's form sent pleasure to Steven, including down south. Steven leans back for a moment, his belly acting like a counterweight. At first he thought he was feeling bout of indigestion from such a hefty meal. However a rumble in his belly races up through his chest and out his mouth.

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOORRRRRRRPPPPP!

The burp shakes the entire parking lot. A pile of Michael's soggy clothing comes flying up landing neatly next to his slides. Steven proudly rubs over his belly and fingers his belly button. As much as he valued his friendship with michael, he valued his relationship with his body much more. Satisfied after smacking his lips, tasting Michael's delicious flavor again, he waddles back to the car and heads home. Once home, Steven takes a couple of before pictures in the mirror. Various poses of him holding his titanic gut in front of him. All the while his heavy belly gurgles as it begins to break down the stud trapped within. Steven flops on his bed, a possessive hand over his belly with a smile. Then he drifts to sleep while his belly works overtime on his Michael.

A few days later, Steven goes to the scale after completely digesting Michael. He was a little anxious. Steven had waited until Michael had completely digested. He hoped that digesting his best friend was going to be worth it for all of this. After stepping on the scale, Steven smiles down at the number between his feet.

250 lbs

"Thanks, Mike." Steven smirks before stepping off the scale and heading to the gym. As he drives, a new goal weight was set in mind and he knew just how to get there.

#male vore #male pred #male prey #m/m vore #vore story #digestion #fatal vore #muscle pred #muscle prey #muscle vore #navel play #muscle gut

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girlboybug · 20 days

Text

daddy issues

“you ask me what i'm thinkin' about, i tell you that i'm thinking about whatever you're thinking about."

or the one where your boyfriend reminds you that you’re all he could ever want.

*unedited*

what’s playing 🎧: daddy issues by the neighbourhood

pairing : dilf!farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)

word count : 3k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, age gap, dilf farleigh au mmm can you tell i’m ovulating, un protected sex, breeding kink, light impact play (he slaps reader a few times but nothing crazy), spitting, brief mentions of an exhibitionistic fantasy, size kink if you squint, cervix kissing yum, slight manhandling :3

TRIGGER WARNINGS : light slapping but nothing harsh and it’s all consensual, ermmm age gap with a power imbalance both professionally and morally but it’s all legal and reader is of age. if i’ve missed anything pls lmk.

a/n : hi guys! i know it's been a while since i've posted any work and i'm so sorry to anyone who has been wanting any updates. i missed you all, but life has been not the best. i won't share whats been going on, as tumblr is a safe space for me and id rather not bring my real life troubles onto here. i hope you guys enjoy this and forgive me for my absence <3

“you’re staring.” he says, not bothering to meet your eyes. you clear your throat, feeling flushed when you look away. “sorry.” you mumble, holding your legs close to your chest. farleigh sighs, shutting down his laptop and swiveling around in his chair before making his way towards you on the bed. your body lights up the second his proximity to you gets a little closer, and he sees it.

it’s hard to not see it.

he knows you try to hide it, to not seem like such an eager little girl, but your internal excitement when it comes to him is just so visibly external. it’s cute, it’s honest and it’s sweet, it’s one of the reasons why he likes you so much.

you welcome him in with open arms, parting your legs for him to climb in between and nestle himself into. he picks you up from the mattress with ease, his large hands supporting you by the hips and the bottom of your ass to reposition you on top of him.

he rests his hands on your thighs, watching as you rest yours on his broad chest, gently smoothing down the material of his white button up, the small embroidered dior catching your eye on the inside of his collar.

“you’ve been quiet today.” he states, his warm hands bringing life to your skin beneath your silk slip. “because you told me to be,” you frown, slumping. he laughs, twiddling with the lace hem at the bottom of your short little slip. “yeah, but you never actually listen.” his thumb guides your chin upwards, pulling your gaze back up to his eyes. “so what’s making you actually listen today?” he asks softly, his hand engulfing your cheek. you lean into his palm, sighing to yourself.

“i dunno,” you shrug, feeling small under his stare. “you dunno?” he repeats back, semi mockingly, but mostly full of endearment. you huff, glaring at him. he laughs again, and it makes something stir in your stomach. everything about him is so attractive, it can be upsetting at times. sometimes inconvenient.

there’s been more times you can count where you’ve sat on the sidelines while he conducts business meetings, strikes deals, makes compromises that are really more so situations that fully benefit him but worded to make it seem like they benefit the other person as well — and other business-y jargon you can hardly keep up with. but it doesn’t matter if you understand what’s going on or not, every time you sit and watch him in his element it lights a desire to stick your hand under your skirt and take care of the ache beginning to build.

it’s just so hot seeing him be ahead of every single one of his colleagues, running circles around them with ease. his intelligence and capability is just so alluring. you think that it comes with his age too, the experience, the knowledge on life. you’ve always thought older men were the standard for attractiveness, and when you met farleigh, he somehow managed to raise the standard you had set in the stars and bring it to a level far beyond that.

but with that, comes a sense of competitiveness with other women in his field. all closer to his age, more experienced than you are in almost every important aspect. it makes you a little insecure from time to time. you’re the first woman in her mid twenties he’s been with since he was in his mid twenties. he’s now approaching his early forties and it makes you nervous that maybe one day your company will bore him and he’ll crave someone else who can keep up with him.

this morning at the bright and early hour of 7am, that fear was reignited in you. you watched from your desk, as your boss, your boyfriend, discuss things you don’t think you’d even really be able to understand, with a beautiful woman in his office. a woman closer to his age.

you watched as he laughed with her, as he let her run her hand down his forearm, watching as he let her hug him before she exited. to wrap a neat bow around the shit filled box, she made it a point to send a condescending smile to you on her way out, almost like she just knew.

but, you know she’s just a coworker, she’s not even in the same department as he is, and is usually located in another location across the state but it felt horrible to see them interact. and it felt even worse knowing they would look good together, complementing one another with a high sense of class and elegance.

farleigh anchors you back to him, squeezing your hip and gently patting your cheek. “what’s going on in that head of yours?” he murmurs, looking at you intently. “hmm?”

“do you think i’m too young for you?” you suddenly ask, eyes already lined with tears. he’s a bit taken aback, not expecting the line of questioning. he takes a moment, swiping away your fallen tears. “no, i don’t. if i did, this—we wouldn’t be happening.” he says clearly, matter of factly, but there’s gentleness in his words, he wants to wipe away any doubt that might linger in your mind about you two. “why? do you think i’m too old for you?” he questions further, sitting up and pulling you along with him, making sure with every movement you remain close. you shake your head, sniffling.

“no,” you huff. “but i was watching you with…that woman in your office and i just…” you trail off, looking down at his button up again, smoothing down invisible wrinkles.

“got a little jealous?” he can’t help the smile that grows on his face and raises his tone, it’s embarrassing and you return his inflating ego with a silencing glare. “yes.” you admit, somewhat annoyed, but you know it stems from your insecurity and fear that he’ll confirm it.

“baby,” he sighs playfully, shaking his head. “i’m far from interested in her. i’ve got my eye on a new girl,” he grins, his tongue poking his cheek. “yeah?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest, suppressing your smile. “who is she?”

he looks off to the side wistfully, exhaling with desire. “ohh i don’t think you’d know her,” he waves you off, sighing when he leans back into the headboard. “she’s my secretary. she wears these tight little pencil skirts, and she has a habit of bending over often. i think she does it on purpose.” he adds, his hands running up and down your thighs. your efforts in keeping a straight face fall flat, your smile betraying them and perking the corners of your lips.

“oh really?” you giggle, leaning forward. “why don’t you make a move on her?” you tilt your head, wondering what his answer will be. “i’m thinking about it. i’m thinking about telling her how i watch her from my office when she thinks i can’t see her, how i think about bending her over her own desk and fucking her in front of all the little boys in their cubicles who think they have a chance with her.”

warmth floods your cheeks like a tide pool, dragging you into the depths of nervousness. his smart tongue and dirty mouth still manage to catch you off guard, never failing in making you flustered and shy. he loves it, he loves how easy it is to play with you.

you can feel him getting hard under you, and it excites you, it makes that familiar ache trickle all over. “i don’t think she’d be against that.” you reply, trying to hide the shakiness in your words, but he hears it. he can always see through you and your little acts.

“oh you think so?” he hums, squeezing your hips. you nod, leaning in closer, nudging your nose with his. “i think so.” you whisper, your lips brushing against his.

“you feel that?” he murmurs, lightly grinding his bulge against your panty clad cunt. you whimper softly, nodding. “it’s only ever for you,” he breathes out, pressing his lips to your lovingly with a chaste kiss. he peppers kisses to your lips over and over until he sinks into you, pulling you in with a hand behind your head.

he moans into your mouth, gripping your hips and planting you firmly on his cock, rocking into you with haste. the pressure and friction ripples through your cunt, nudging your clit just the way you need. you cup his cheeks while you kiss farleigh, melting into him and sighing with content when he migrates from your lips, sucking hot bruises into the side of your neck.

“i need you,” you whimper, meaning the sentiment in more ways than one. farleigh is the only man who’s ever made you feel the way that you do, emotionally and physically. you’ll always need him, whether it be a strong shoulder to cry on, or a strong shoulder to bite into when he’s got you nearly folded in half, fucking you stupid.

“how bad?” he breathes out, bringing his hand between your grinding hips, pressing his long fingers firmly against your cunt. he can feel the dampness seep through the material, laughing smugly when you gasp. “real bad huh?” he adds, humming in agreement when you nod dumbly. “i know baby,” he coos, kissing the space beneath your ear.

you shrug off the spaghetti straps of your slip, a breath of a shock being pulled from your lips when he acts faster than you, eagerly tugging down the white silk material to expose your bare chest. he groans to himself, lurching forward and taking your soft flesh in his mouth.

you arch your back closer to him, eyes fluttering shut and mouth agape with soft moans trickling out into the dimly lit room. he plays with you, rutting his hips into yours, hands and tongue lapping up and groping your breasts, hungrily squeezing, licking and nipping at your flesh.

your hands play with the curls at the back of his neck, tugging with a gasp when you feel his teeth graze your nipples. “farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back, trying to grind harder on his cock. “need you,” he kisses your sternum, looking up at you with his hands far beneath your slip, wrapped around your sides, fingers gently skimming across your ribs. “i’m right here baby,” his voice cascading around you like caramel, enveloping you in its golden hue, rich and sweet.

he pushes your dampened panties to the side, groaning to himself at the sight of your cunt glistening. he thumbs at your lips, sighing lowly and spreading you apart.

his thumb rubs over your clit, chuckling when your lips part and a shaky moan escapes out. he rescinds his warm touch faster than you would’ve appreciated, softly cooing away your sounds of disappointment. he lifts you off of his lap, laying you gently down on your back. his large hand cradles the back of your head, lowering you down onto the pillow below you.

he unties his tie, discarding it somewhere to be found by the maids in the morning, a shaky sigh fluttering from your lips at the view of him above you. the soft glow of the lamp on your shared nightstand wafts all around him, tracing the outline of his full curls, highlighting his cheekbones and drawing a line down the bridge of his nose. his lips tempt you without having to move at all, no movements in forming words, he just stares at you and with that alone, you’re a perfect malleable thing ready for whatever he has planned.

“you’re beautiful,” he states in a breath of admiration, leaning back down towards you. “my girl,” he sighs, kissing your neck, breathing in the dainty vanilla, floral scent from the dolce & gabbana perfume you begged him for. but beneath the expensive perfume is your scent. your sweet natural scent he can never seem to get enough of, always crouching down to hug you from the back and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, sniffing right at the sweet spot. and now, it just turns him on further, fishing out his cock from his dress slacks, too bothered to take the extra steps in sliding them off his hips, too eager, too desperate to feel you, to be close to you, to be in you.

he pushes in, tugging a deep gasp from the depths of your chest. he groans the second your cunt envelopes him in, gripping him in and squeezing. your walls pulse around the girth of him, trying to adjust to the intrusion. he grinds his hips, shuddering above you. “fuck baby,” he chuckles in disbelief, kissing your collarbone.

“god,” you choke out, swallowing thickly, dragging your fingertips down his back. he starts pivoting his hips deeper in you, slowly pumping in and out, wanting to take his time with you, relishing in being able to savor your cunt. it’s been a few weeks since you both have had sex, he’s just been so busy with work, he hasn’t had the time to fuck you like you deserve, but now he has all the time in the world, and he intends to use it until the very last second.

you feel so full of him and you find yourself somehow wanting more, wishing you could be with him deeper, but in the same breath as that thought, he knocks whatever you have left in your lungs right out, pushing into you deeper as if he could sense what you wanted. your calves rest on his lower back, keeping him flush inside you.

gentleness starts to shed, and an eager pace takes its place, his hips moving faster and his cock hitting harder. your clit brushes against his trimmed bristle of pubic hair, whimpering at the friction, tears already brimming your pretty eyes as he fucks you.

and then you say something you’ve never said before, never even really thought of or fantasized about, but as you stare at him, watching him fuck you like he owns you, you can’t help it from coming out. “hit me,” you whimper pathetically, hardened nipples pressed to his chest with desperation. he stills inside you for a moment, panting with a look of confusion, unsure if you really just said what you said.

“what baby?” he asks breathlessly, swallowing thickly. “hit me, touch me, please farleigh,” you plead, fisting at his button up, grinding your hips down to try and regain some friction. he’s ashamed with the way his cock twitches inside of you at your desperation. so unadulterated and unfiltered in the act of something so filthy.

his hips start moving again, and he’s grabbing at your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker. “open.” he commands, and like a dutiful believer, you obey, parting your mouth for him. he spits and you swallow without being told to, moaning with a gasp when his hand lands on your cheek afterwards with zero infliction of pain, but enough heaviness to remind you his strength is there. it’s simply withheld to avoid hurting you and bruising your pretty face.

your cunt squeezes around him, arching your back into his chest as his hips pivot harder into yours. he takes notice, landing another firm but lovingly smack across your cheek. before your moan gains sound, his large palm covers your mouth, his lips finding your ear. “be quiet and listen,” he murmurs, leaving the air silent. all you can hear is him fucking you, how wet and loud you are. “you’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles in your ear, and the moan that follows behind his palm just proves his point further.

“do you hear that?” he shoves his hips in, pinning yours down with his available hand, giving more access for him to push in deeper. the fat tip of his cock nudges at your cervix, filling you out more than anyone ever has. “making a mess all over my slacks baby.” he grunts, but there’s no complaints to be found.

when he finally removes his hand from your lips, he’s greeted with your heavenly moans, rendering him weak with his face in your neck, mouth baring hot kisses, groaning your name.

his hand that nearly dwarfs your face comes back down, slapping the side of your cheek, his warm palm cradling it after the impact, his thumb running along your pouring waterline. “my little crybaby,” he grunts with humor, his hand sliding from your cheek to the nape of your neck, his other hand following suit. he presses down, forcing you to crane your neck downward, focusing your gaze on the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of your puffy cunt. “watch.” he utters in your ear, his teeth catching your earlobe before he pulls away.

and you do.

you watch him take you over and over, his hips slamming into yours, occasionally stilling in you to let the weight of his cock buried deep inside you hang heavy.

your legs tremble around him, unable to soothe them from the adrenaline that comes with getting fucked. “touch yourself.” he exhales, bringing his lips to your forehead. “wanna feel you cum,” and that alone could have made you finish. you bring your fingers to your aching clit, moaning a drawn out whimper at the stimulation. he watches himself fuck you, how he stretches you out and how your cunt accommodates him every time.

“fuck,” you sob, panting heavily, sweat starting to collect around your neck and trickle between your breasts. “can i cum?” you plead through a choked moan, clit throbbing in excitement when he nods, picking up the pace in his thrusts. he releases your neck, traveling up to your jaw and bringing you closer to his mouth. his lips are pressed to your’s in milliseconds, drinking in every little sound you let out as he fucks you through your orgasm.

a bruising grip rests on your jaw and hip, like a wordless statement of how much of you belongs to him. which is everything. you can’t think of a single thing about you that you could say isn’t apart of farleigh; hell, you can’t think at all right now, not when your poor cunt is getting pounded into and your shaky fingers can’t seem to stop rubbing circles over your clit. the feelings that deluge through your body are addictive, it feels so good that it trickles into a delicious type of hurt.

you’ve already cum, its existence proven by the white ring around the base of his cock, the sight has your hole weakly tightening around him. with no forewarning, he pulls out, leaving you hollow and empty, wincing from the loss.

before you can voice your confusion and protests, he’s flipping you around, guiding your hips back up, large hand pressing your cheek into the pillows below you. he’s back in you as soon as he exited you, groaning lowly to himself. “fuckin’ perfect.” he grunts mostly to himself, his cock twitching at the sweet little gasp you let out from the new angle. he travels into you deeper this way, nudging your cervix with every other thrust.

he curls behind your back, his chest pressed flush against your shoulder blades, his lips nipping and sucking bruises into the crook of your neck, breathing in your earthy dulcet scent. he brings your wrists to the small of your back, keeping them in place while his thrusts start to become more and more sporadic. “gonna cum, tell me how bad you want it,” he grits, feeling his climax fast approaching, eager to finish to the sweet sound of you begging for his cum.

begging for him to cum inside of you is as easy as breathing, if not easier, since he always manages to take your breath away, whether that be by his charming smile or with his hand wrapped firmly around your throat. “please cum in me,” you sob, tears staining the white silk pillowcases. “wanna be full of you, please farleigh, i need it, need it so bad,” you babble mindlessly, trying to fuck your over sensitive cunt onto him, your ass meeting him with every pivot he sends into you.

normally, he’d push you a little more, too indulgent in his desires to let you have it that easily. but the way you fuck yourself onto him and cry for him is enough to make any man give in. his pants come out sharp, his thrusts matching the tempo of his thumping pulse, spilling into you with a loud groan of your name, his hips fused firmly to your ass. he pumps into a few more times, swallowing hard at the sight of his and your sticky cum and the mess it's made. “gonna pull out now baby,” he murmurs softly in your shoulder blade, kissing the skin lovingly. you wince, squeezing your eyes shut, collapsing back into the bed with your legs tucked close to you.

he crawls over on top of you, running his hands across your clammy forehead and temple. he peppers gentle kisses over your warm skin, humming quietly. “you okay?” he asks, laying beside you, pulling you into him after tucking himself back into his slacks. “mhm,” you nod lazily, shuffling around to face him. he chuckles, kissing your nose.

his arm wraps around you, securing you into his chest, rubbing your back in relaxing circles. his hand sneaks between your legs, scooping his cum with his fingers, shushing you playfully when you whimper, your hips shying away from his touch. “behave,” he chastises lightly, bringing his fingers to your lips. “open.” you open your bitten lips, tongue darting out along his digits, licking him clean. you hum something of approval, kissing the pads of his fingers before he pulls them away. “good?” he mumbles against your cheek. “good.” you confirm, kissing his hair.

he snakes his arms around your waist, unsatisfied with how far you feel from him wanting to be as close as humanly possible. you’ve always loved how touchy he remained after sex, used to the two pump and dump cycle you’ve had with past guys.

unlike them, farleigh isn’t just some guy, he’s a man – granted a man old enough to be your father, but that never bothered you, if anything it added to the appeal. but regardless of all of that, he loves you, loves being near you even in non-sexual contexts. he proves it every day, like he is now, whispering about how pretty you look right now. “i love you,” he says softly, and it sounds like the first time he said it, gentle and nervous. it makes you smile, opening your heavy eyes to peer into his. “i love you.” you repeat back with just as much truth and confirmation. “i love you,” you kiss him, sealing your promise with your lips pressed together.

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waffles-art-writing · 11 months

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Can you do Ghost(mw2) x female reader who is like Yor from spy x family(the jobs she has not the personality)

Female reader also has a child

COD MWII Ghost x Female!Assassin!Reader. (Reader has a child)

Summary: You’re recalled from retirement of being an Assassin, your daughter being your main priority. You end up going back into the field with Task Force 141. After the mainly successful mission, Ghost takes you home after finding out you’re injured but not sever enough to need to go to the medical wing. You share a soft moment with the cold lieutenant, showing the side of the quiet man no one has seen. The next morning the babysitter drops your daughter back home, your young child coming home to a surprise and a face she hasn’t seen since she was a wee babe.

Proofread: Kinda???? Not really

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X Female Assassin (AFAB)

Age Rating: 16+

Codename: *Whatever you want it to be*

KEY: Y/N - Your Name. L/N - Last Name. C/N - Codename

Warning/Info: FLUFF!!!! Soft!Ghost, Injury Description, COD Violence, Female!Reader, Weapons. It is reasonably long. Call Of Duty Comic Description of Ghost.

If you want a part 2 please comment!!! <3 :) (PART TWO)

I apologise for the lack of posting, stuff irl has been picking up a lot and I will not be able to post as much as I wish I could. And I am applying for a new job which will result in me having to spend less and less time on here. :( but I’ll update when I can.

A screeching sound pierces through your calm, soundless sleep. The ear piercing sound making you groan, rolling over, smacking your hand onto your nightstand, slapping the screen of your phone. The sound comes to a halt, you look at the time. Eyes widening, you didn’t set the earlier alarm. “Shit shit shit.” You curse out, stumbling to pull on some pants, tossing a shirt over your head as you dash down the hall. Stopping to peek into your daughters room, who is fast asleep, covers pulled up to her chin, a foot sticking out of the bed to the side.

A soft smile spreads across your lips as you look at her. Her hair a mess on the pillow, hands wrapped around her stuffed dog toy, snuggled into it. You move away from the door, continuing on your mission to the bathroom, pulling your hair back into a messy bun. Life has been hectic ever since putting your job as an assassin on hold so you can have your daughter, and not end up losing her cause you’re not around enough. Only two people knew about you and your daughter, both of them still working well and truly.

You flick on the bright light in the bathroom, you look towards the mirror. Dark circles rest under your eyes, hair tousled and messy despite it being pulled up in a messy bun. You lean against the bathroom counter, turning the tap on to brush your teeth. Suddenly your phone vibrates, the sound echoing around the cold room, almost amplifying the sound. You tap the green button on the screen not looking who it was.

“Hello?” You answer, your voice quiet to not wake your daughter.

“Morning L/N.” The deep gravely voice of Price comes from the speakers, it almost sends a chill down your spine. You haven’t been called this early by him in a long while. “Morning John, is there something you need?” You cut straight to the point, not wanting to beat around the bush as to why he is calling you so early in the morning, on a week day of all days.

“Straight to the point as always I see. Yes, we need your expertise for an overview of a mission- Yes I know, before you even complain I know you aren’t in the field anymore, or thats what most say but Laswell says otherwise.” You roll your eyes, of course he would know you still do the occasional job but you haven’t done one for years, you aren’t even sure as to how he thinks you could help. “Mission Overview? What could I possibly help with?” You question, your hands running under the cold water to splash it onto your face.

“Its an Capture or kill mission and if the time comes and we, y’know gotta send the target on their merry way to an early grave, we want you to give us an idea on how we should do it.”

“And why can’t you guys figure it out?”

“L/N we need you for this, its a complicated mission… I myself want you in the field and execute this yourself…”

You sigh, running a hand down your face. You worked for KorTac - a mercenary group - and you assisted Price and his team the Task Force 141 on occasion. But you mainly worked solo, the Task Force 141 never met you, other than Price and Laswell. You met Ghost as well, you both stay in contact occasionally, only in case of emergencies… well more like, needing a ride from the base back home on the very rare occasion he decides to go home.

“Pay?” You ask.

“Whatever your rate is, kid.” He replies.

“Good. I’ll be there in 3 hours.” You hear Price reply with confirmation before hanging up the phone. Your fingers drum against the counter.

Okay, cool, doing another job, nothing new right? Just been out of the field for a few years, just gotta warm up a bit thats all… Right?

———

“Okay behave, don’t do anything silly and listen to your teachers. And remember to listen to Amber’s parents okay? Have a good day and a fun sleepover.” You say to your daughter - Emilia - kissing her forehead. “Yep!” She chimes, a smile spread across her cheeks, her braids neatly tucked up into a ponytail. “Good, Love you.” You smile, pulling her into a hug. “Love you too Mama.” She squeezes her arms around your neck, your crouched form still larger than her. Once you let go, she waves goodbye, running into school towards her friends. You smile, quickly turning around to walk towards the car park.

You make your way towards the dark blue sedan you bought far too long ago, still surprised it still works. Your face falls when you see a figure leaning against the hood of it, hands in their pockets, clad in black. Including a cap and what looks like a skull balaclava. You sigh, knowing who it is. Its not a common thing to see people walk around in a skull print mask and clad in full black.

“Lieutenant…” You greet when you reach him, he stands up and nods to you. “C/N…. Or should I call you Miss L/N?” He pokes, his dead pan tone not helping his remark to come across as teasing. You shake your head with a smile, unlocking the car. “I’m assuming you’ve been sent to make sure I end up coming right?”

Ghost shrugs, a small nod accompanying it. “We can’t be too careful…” He states, climbing into the passenger seat as you get into the drivers side. “Right… whatever you say Ghost.” You huff, buckling yourself in as you pull out of the car parking.

———

“The mission will be tough, but I brought an old acquaintance along to help us plan out a strategy. Boys, meet C/N. She has worked with me in the past and used to work for the Mercenary ground KorTac, she now works solo for the government.” Price states as you stand at the front of the room.

“Hello, Yes before you ask I’m what some call an ‘assassin’. I work solo but I haven’t worked in the field for some years now, as I have had other things going on. But I am still qualified to assist you boys in any way to make sure this mission is a success.” You pause, locking eyes with Ghost, he knows you’re nervous to be here again. You continue to inform them the best strategies for them to be able to do this unnoticed, especially while inside.

———

It’s the day of the mission, you managed to get a babysitter for Emilia. She wasn’t all too happy about you leaving for a few days, but you said you’ll be back in not time, and have a gift for her. Which is partly true, you just hope nothing goes south and cause you to stay away longer than you planned. You want to be back by the weekend, or at least before the new school week starts.

Your plan to stay out of the field didn’t last long, Gaz ended up falling sick with food poisoning, pretty bad food poisoning from the amount of time he spent in the bathroom or medical bay yesterday. Still having an upset gut this morning when you arrived at an ungodly hour in the morning, having just dropped Emilia off at the baby sitters.

The team is communicating back and forth over the comms, you’ve managed to infiltrate the building where the target is. The slick walls on the outside not making the job easier. You are definitely a lot less fit than what you thought you were, but still fit enough to keep up with the team and your job on this mission.

Assassinate the target, and get the hell home.

Simple right? Yeah really simple, if it wasn’t a great big warehouse like building with barely any cover or high points for you to use to your advantage.

———

“Got eyes on the target.” You whisper into the comms, slinking along the beams that support the A-Frame ceiling of the warehouse. “Copy that, Ready when you are C/N.” Price states, Ghost and Soap stating something of confirmation.

You step lightly across the beam, your light footwork going unnoticed by the man littering the floor below you. There’s a catwalk just below you, one armed guard standing at a door that leads into the office where your target sits, back to the door and window that overviews the factory.

The guard walks up and down the cat walk intermittently, observing everything below him. Never above him. How stupid.

As soon as the guard passes by under you, reaching a part in the catwalk railing that’s solid sheet metal. You jump down, landing lightly on your feet, the sounds of the factory drowning out your movement. Crouched low you sneak up behind him, slicing the backs of legs, right through the tendons that keep him standing. You spring up, hand covering his mouth to keep him silent. Other arm wrapping around to the front, quick jerk to the side. Lights out.

You gently lay his limp body down, tucking him up against the metal barrier.

“Guards out, preparing to breach the targets office.” You communicate. “Be careful C/N.” Ghost states over the Comms, both him and Soap just downstairs at the entrance, ready to breach if anything goes sideways. “Always am.” You hear Soap snort at your reply as Price growls at you all to focus.

Your skilful hands test the door, it doesn’t budge, the window that’s just a foot or two away from the edge of the cat walk is open. Either pick lock the door and risk getting caught with your back to the open or swing in through the open window and possibly fall and either hurt your self, die, or break all your bones then die by one of the other guards bullets. Either way you could end up dead.

Window.

Quickest way in.

———

The mission was a success, you managed to get into the room, secure the target and kill them. Clean and quietly. Getting out was a different mission entirely, one of the guards spotted the fact they couldn’t see another guard on the cat walk. They investigated and found the slumped body of the dead guard. Immediately yelling for the alarm to be pulled.

Ghost and Soap busted in to draw their attention to them and away from the office, all you had to do was get the fuck out and get to the extraction point. You managed to slip out the window on the far side of the office, but not without being nicked by the a few bullets.

You manage to sprint across the roof, throwing yourself off the edge and landing on top of a large truck with a large thump. You cough harshly, feeling like your ribs got smashed by a sledge hammer. You stumble to your feet, slipping off the side of the truck and sprinting towards the back fence of the compound, you glance to your right, seeing Ghost and Soap climbing the wall quickly. You fling yourself into the fence, dragging yourself over the top, thankful theres not barbed wire.

“C/N? You good?” Soap calls over the comms, you can hear he’s breathless, the faint sound of Ghost in the background barking orders out to the extraction chopper to start the engine. “Y-Yeah…” You wheeze, rushing through the brush of the forest, weaving in and out of trees heading uphill towards the small clearing the chopper is situated in. Your lungs burn, the cold air stinging your eyes and cheeks. The adrenaline numbing the pain in your leg and arm, your ribs still feeling like you’re wearing a corset.

You stumble into the clearing, Ghost and Soap a few paces ahead, the lieutenant spins around. Noticing you’ve arrived, Soap running to the chopper. You nod to Ghost as you approach, Ghost waits for you to pass before following after you into the chopper. You slump down into the uncomfortable chair of the helicopter, adjusting to keep your ribs from being pushed on by the seat strap.

Both the men ask if you’re okay, you wave them off chuckling while wheezing out a “Just a little unfit is all.” Soap chuckles, Ghost just shakes his head lightly, moving forward to signal for the chopper to get you all out of there.

———

Once back in England and on base you get a phone call from the babysitter a normal thing, it’s almost eight thirty in the evening “Hello?” You ask, bringing the phone to your ear as you walk down path towards the entrance of the base, car parked not too far front he entrance. “Hey Miss L/N! Lizzie here, I was just gonna put Emilia to bed. Are you free to talk to her?” The babysitter Lizzie states, it’s almost like a nightly ritual. Every night that you’re not home, whoever is looking after your daughter will call to see if your available to say goodnight to Emilia.

“Yeah I’m free.” You state, stopping at the end of the path by the entrance of the main building, sitting down on the bench outside. You hear Lizzie talking to Emilia, your daughter sounding tired but excited. “MAMA!” She calls through eh phone, you smile a and laugh lightly hearing your daughters voice warms your heart, her sweet voice making you happy. “Hey pumpkin. You behaving?” You ask her, having a teasing tone. “Yeah! We got to watch a movie while eating dinner!” She states happily, you smile listening to her talk about what happened throughout the day.

The door opens and closes, Ghost slips out into the cold evening. His eyes spot you off to the side, its dusk, the flood lights not coming on just yet. He can see your breath in the cold air, billowing out past your lips. His own breath billowing out into the air as he pulls his mask up, he leans against the small wall of the entrance staircase. He shoves he cigarette between his lips, cupping his hands around the flame of the lighter. He hears your laugh, it echos into the evening air. Its warm and light to his ears, his eyes flick up to watch you. He’s too far away to hear what you’re talking about.

You bid Emilia goodnight, shutting off your phone as you shoved it into your jacket pocket. Sighing as you search your small duffle bag for your keys, knowing you threw them in there. You wince, groaning as you lean over, gripping your side with ragged breaths.

Ghost pushes off the wall as soon as he sees you double over on the bench, showing pain. “Hey hey hey… what’s wrong?” He mumbles, flicking his cigarette in front of his boot and stomping it out. Stopping over the smouldering ashes to crouch down in front of you, pulling his mask down quickly as he kneels. “C/N what’s wrong?” He asks, his voice stern as he looks at your scrunched face, pain obvious across your expression. “My ribs- I… I thought they were just bruised.” You wheeze out, sitting back to look at him. His hands ghost over your knees as he stands, sitting next to you.

“Let me check, we don’t want you to go home with broken bones. Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asks, motioning for you to shrug off your jacket. “Just a few grazes from a bullet but I handled them, they weren’t deep.” You groan, pulling your jacket off, your thick jersey and shirt thankfully being warm enough in the crisp air. “Okay, may I touch your ribs? Under your jumper?” The taller man asks, you nod your head turning slightly so your back is facing him. His glove clad hands snake under your jersey and shirt, ghosting over your waist up to your ribs.

“Did you land on your back or front?” He asks, his fingers delicately pressing against your rib cage. “Front, kinda threw myself off the roof onto a truck roof…” you state, flinching when his hands snake around to your front, right under the hem of your sports bra. Rough gloves pressing into your ribs. You wine, flinching away from his hands. “Ow- Watch it lieutenant…” you snap, your body disagreeing with your sudden movements. “M’sorry” he mumbles, he pulls his hands back. Laying your jacket across your shoulders again. “Well nothing is broken from what I could tell, but you’re not driving.” He states, standing from his spot next to you and grabbing your duffle bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

You look at him confused, a brow raise as you slip your arms through eh jacket again, fixing your jersey and shirt in the process. You stand, looking up at the large man. “What? I need to get home, what the hell do you mean Ghost?” You ask, tone almost angry. “I’m driving you home, you shouldn’t drive when you have damaged ribs.” He states, keeping his explanation to a minimum. You sigh shaking your head as you follow him, he ready knows where your car is. You both arrived in the same vehicle so thankfully he remembered where you parked.

———

The drive back to your place was quiet, the occasional question, or observation. Ghost helps you out of your car, his hand ghosting over the small of your back guiding you up the stairs of the small apartment. “You didn’t have to walk me to my door, Ghost.” You state, unlocking the door and pushing the door open. Toeing off your boots by the door and dumping your bag on the couch as you walk past it, Ghost follows you in, leaving his boots by the door while closing it and locking it. He immediately walks towards your bathroom, he’s been here a few times, he knows the layout like the back of his hand. “Ghost? The hell are-” “Finding your med kit, take your shirt off, I need to properly check your ribs.” You stare down the corridor towards the bathroom with a shocked expression. You throw your coat over the back of the couch, walking down the hallway towards the bathroom, passing it towards your bedroom at the end of the hallway. “I’m in my room just so you know.” You call out, grabbing the hem of your jersey, wincing when you tug it up.

You jump at the feeling of calloused hands resting over yours. “G-Ghost?” You stutter, feeling his presence behind you, his breathing quiet and muffled by his mask. “Let me help.” He offers, more like stating he is going to help you even if you deny it. You lift your arms above your head, wincing at the movement. He tugs the heavy fabric carefully over your head, throwing it over to the hamper in the corner. You wince you turn around, looking up at the taller man. “Why… Why are you doing this?” You ask, brows furrowed.

“You go n’one else to help you, and I know that you wouldn’t get help.” He states, gently pulling your dark shirt up and over your head as well, your sports bra on full display. Ghost’s eyes linger on your chest for a second before quickly adverting his eyes to the medkit on your bed. “Sit down.” He mumbles as he opens the small bag, kneeling down in front of you. You sit with your arms tucked around your stomach, conscious of how you look.

You have always been conscious of your body, especially after your pregnancy. Your tummy never got back to as toned and flat as it was before. Stretch marks paint your hips and thighs, and your lower abdomen like tiger stripes, rough to the touch and unpleasant to look at. Ghost grabs the anti inflammatory cream from the kit, pulling his gloves off and warming the cream up in his hands. You stare at the movement of his hands, mind wandering to thoughts you never thought you would have again.

What would his hands feel like, I wonder if his touch is soft - he lays wears gloves maybe he has soft hands? Maybe they are rough, like his personality. What his he doesn’t like what I look like and thinks I’m disgusting, what if he thinks pathetic for being in pain. What if-

“Y/n?” Ghost asks, he’s being saying your name for the past few moments. You snap your attention back to him, letting out a small ‘huh?’ When you notice him looking at you with slightly furrowed brows. “Can I put the cream on?” He asks, his voice quiet, his hands resting on your legs, palms facing up with the cream smeared across them. “Oh… uh yeah…” A small blush of embarrassment paints your cheeks as you sit straighter, arms resting across your tummy. Ghost watches you sit up properly, reluctant to move your arms. He attempts to work around your arms, gently spreading the cream across your ribs. His hands are calloused but his touch his soft but firm enough to make sure the cream spreads.

“…Love, I need you to move your arms…” He states softly, his eyes looking up to yours, his soft with concern. You furrow your brows, looking away as you move your arms, the yellow light from your lamp glowing softly across your skin. The light bumped stretch marks marring your skin, the deep colour a large contrast against the rest of your skin, most of them have lightened but a few are still dark. You flinch when you feel his hands move lower along your rib cage.

He hasn’t said anything, quiet, like always, eyes analysing everything he is doing in great detail.

He finishes rubbing the cream in after gently lifting the side of your sports bra to get under the cloth, gently massaging the cream into your sore body. “Its still going to be bruise to shit, you’ll have to be careful…” He mumbles, he gently takes your left arm into his hands, peeling back the bandage you haphazardly wrapped around while back on the base. He smears the residue of the cream around the wound, “You did a good job at cleaning it…. Just half assed bandage” he teases lightly, re wrapping your arm with a clean bandage.

You shrug, handing your head, eyes trained on his knee thats pressing into the plush carpet of your room. The same carpet you paid too much money for and installed it yourself while almost 3 months pregnant. A lot of tears have been shed on this carpet, some blood but mainly tears. You hear him say something, your mind elsewhere as you mindlessly shake your head. Not a hundred percent sure on what you were disagreeing too.

You never noticed how detailed his tattoo is, its on display as he takes his jacket off, rolling his long sleeve up. The permanent ink thats been delicately painted into his skin stand out against the rest of his pale skin tone. The scars he’s gained after the tattoo break the ink in small lines, mostly the ink has stayed. His hands are large, rough but gentle. He’s always been a tough and scary man on the outside but you can see he has the same needs as anyone else. Love, affection and care… even partnership. Yes he has the team but he needs something more, but he’s scared, hesitant. Horrified if he gets too attached or too close with someone he cares about he will lose them, he’s terrier he will do the wrong thing, scare them off, pained himself in the a bad light he’s always been known to hold.

Ghost eventually gets to check the bullet graze on your thigh, its shallow. Still needing antibiotic cream and a new bandage, your track pants that unzip up your mid thigh are scrunched up around your hips and upper thigh as he works on your injury. Mumbling something as you hold the clothing out of the way.

“…Can you stay the night?”

Ghost’s movements cease for a brief moment, his breathing stilling as he glances up at you then back down at the bandage he’s wrapping around your thigh. You stay silent, looking at him. Hands itching to do something, but you can’t.

“…Sure…” he replies after a moment.

You nod your head, happy that he agreed. A little anxious despite the fact you know him, he knows you. Fuck he even knows your daughter since she was a wee babe, but hasn’t seen her for some years. She probably won’t remember him at all. She was barely three when he met her, she’s now turning six in a week.

Ghost zips your track pants back up, pulling the fabric down your leg. His hands linger on your covered calf. Fingers pressing in the muscle gently as he stares blankly. You can see he’s thinking, thinking to the point of being motionless. You lean forward, ignoring the slight pain thats throbbing throughout your body. You reach down a tap his hand thats on your calf, knowing he isn’t fond of physical touch. “Ghost…” you whisper, trying to draw him out of his thoughts.

He snaps his head up to look at you, eyes set at a hard glare which soften slightly when he realises its you. You give him a soft smile. “You okay?” You ask softly, his hands falling away from your calf, the warmth going with it. You miss it, the comforting weight and warmth of his large hands gripping your calf. He nods his head as he cleans his throat, standing to clean up the med kit and discard of the old bandages. “Yeah, I’ll be right back… Get uh…” he pauses glancing over at you when he turns to walk to the door. “Change and get into bed, I’ll get you water an a pain killer.” He states, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Ghost shuts the door softly, careful to not slam it. He glances down at his watch. 2245 (10:45pm) he groans quietly, nudging the bathroom door open again the put the med kit back in the sink cabinet.

Why the hell did I agree to stay? What the fuck is wrong with me? Her skin was so soft… Her stretch marks were fucking amazing- FUCK I can’t think like this. I need to stop thinking like this, we are friends… are we even friends? What is she hates me and Is only offering for me to stay out of sympathy or it being late? God she has a kid, I can’t just barge into their life and be the man they see with their mother. I’m not a go-

His thoughts get cut short when he spots a photo of the fridge door, one side of it ripped, torn off. He reaches up and slides it out from under the sunflower magnet. The photo is of you, smiling as bright as the sun thats beaming in through the tree tops. Emilia is cradled in your arms, clearly only a few months old. Her big eyes beaming in sunlight, same colour as yours. Ghost’s fingers trace the ripped edge of the photo, he knew who was supposed to be there. He quickly pins it back to the fridge before taking the pain killers and water to your room.

———

You watch as Ghost places the bottle of water and pain killers on the bedside table. You’re sitting in bed, bag t-shirt and shorts. You look up at ghost, patting the bed next to you. Ghost stares for a moment, shocked you want him in your bed and not to just crash on the couch.

He opens his mouth to deny but you beat him to it. “You aren’t sleeping on that piece of shit couch, you’re staying in here with me. And thats final.” You state, tone firm. Ghost looks from you to the open space on the king sized bed next to you. His eyes flickering back and forth over and over again. “Sleeping on top of the blankets.” He mumbles out, knowing we won’t be able to get past your stubborn attitude, you’re a mother. You know how to get your way. You smile, a soft one of reassurance. You throw a spare shirt at him and point towards the box in the corner.

“Stole this from you a year ago cause you forgot to take it with you after you did your washing here…” You chuckle lightly, “The box should have some basketball shorts or something you can wear. They were my brothers that he gave to me when I was pregnant cause they were bigger than my clothes.” Ghost just nods, crouching down in front of the box and searching through it, he knows you would be angry at him if he slept in his clothes he wore that day.

He looks over at you then towards the lamp next to you, you get the idea and turn over. Back facing him, hand resting on the switch to turn it off as soon as you feel the bed dip behind you. It feels like an eternity for him to lay on the bed, even though he’s on top of the covers. You can hear a small groan emitting from his side of the bed, you flick the switch. The room delving into darkness, the only light peeking out from under our door, the nightlight that sits in the hallway for Emilia happily lighting under the dark corridor.

It quiet, apart from your breathing and Ghost’s muffled breaths, and the starting pitter patter of rain hitting the window. You turn to lay on your back, keeping your eyes on the ceiling.

“Thank you.”

Your soft words break the silence, Ghost looks at you from the corner of his eye. He’s laying like a dead man, straight as board, hands clasped together over his stomach as he looks towards the ceiling.

He hums in response, he turns his head to look at you properly, the dim light from the hallway making it practically impossible to see anything, but his eyes have adjusted easily. He reaches over to clasp your hand thats resting on your own stomach overtop the blankets. Squeezing it softly, letting you know he heard you. A small smile creeps up onto your lips. You turn onto your side, facing him now. He copies your action, bodies mirroring each other as your hands lay clasped together between the two of you. You let out a small sigh, his hand squeezes yours when he hears the heavy breath.

“Emilia would’ve jumped in between us if she was here, she doesn’t like when it starts raining late at night.” You state, smiling to yourself as you trace Ghost’s broad silhouette in the dark room. The small amount of light peeking through the thing curtains behind him on the far side of the room. “So she’s scared of rain?” Ghost’s rough voice cuts through the quiet, the gravel in his voice hoarse but still has a soft tone to it as he tries to talk quietly.

You shrug, unsure what she’s actually scared of. “I think it’s more when it suddenly pours down and it’s dark, the sound and lack of light scares her.” You hum, still trying to figure out what your daughter is scared of, even though you have reassure her many times that its just rain. You hear the deep rumble of Ghost making a humming like sound, like he’s thinking.

“Well… I’m sure there’s no monsters, you’re scary enough” he teases, squeezing your hand. You feign hurt, gasping and swatting his chest lightly. A giggle leaving you, a small, breathy almost non existent chuckle rumbles from Ghost’s chest. “God, if the Ghost thinks I’m scary, I really must be.” You laugh, teasing him back. Your ribs hurt from your laughter, but you’re too caught up in the fact you are hearing the one and only Lieutenant Riley laughing, laying on your bed, your hand in his.

“Nah, yer alright. You’re scary, but not as scary as Price when he hasn’t had his morning coffee” he jokes, tugging you closer slightly, he’s still on top of the blankets. His arm wrapping around your waist, careful on your sore ribs. “That’s true.” You agree, laughing softly as you place a hand on his chest, feather lightly touches run along your back. Your head tucked under his chin, his mask still on. Thankfully he didn’t wear the hard skull one and just a simple fabric one with a skull print.

Your laughter slowly ceases, breathing going back to normal. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you speak up again.

“Thank you again… This means a lot Ghost.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Simon…”

“What?”

“Call me Simon…”

Your eyes widen at his words, a warm feeling flooding your chest as you tuck your face into the nook between his shoulder and neck.

“Thank you Simon.”

“Anytime Y/n”

His words were barely a whisper, you fall back into silence. Its nice, the heat from his body keeping you warm, eating your pain in a way you didn’t think was possible. The pain killers probably taking most the credit for the lack of pain, yet the sense of security and comfort falls over you. Your eyes slide shut, breathing evening out as sleep pulls you into the depths of slumber.

“Goodnight, Love.”

————

You walk out of your room, hair messy, rubbing your eyes, feet padding across the hardwood of the hallway. Mind still in sleep mode. You round the corner into the kitchen from the hallway, bumping into something… more like someone. You wobble as you lose your balance, arms snake around your waist quickly, pulling you close.

“Careful, I don’t wanna take you to the hospital cause you broke your ass.” A deep voice chuckles, you look up, bleary eyed and confused. “O-Oh… Sorry Gho- Simon…” You apologies, rubbing a hand down your face with a groan, leaning your forehead against his chest. He’s changed into his cargo pants from the day before, same shirt from last night. It fits a little tight across his chest and his biceps but not too tight.

“Drinks on the coffee table, go sit down.” He states, his voice still laced with sleep. You look at him confused, glancing over at the coffee table. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to.” You state, walking over to the couch and slumping into it.

“I’m not the one who looks like I got ran over by a bus.” He teases as he walks over, bowl of fruit in hand and more painkillers and a glass of water. You thank him as he hands them to you, he sits next to you on the couch. “Feeling any better?” He asks, voice quiet. You nod your head, scooping some fruit into your mouth. The comfortable quiet gets broken by a knock at the door, you jump from your spot. “Shit” you mumble around a mouthful of fruit. “That’s Lizzie with Emilia.” You state stumbling from the couch, placing the bowl of fruit on the table, throwing your hair back into some sort of up-do. Simon stands from his spot, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “Sit back down, I’ll get it.” He states, turning to go to the door.

“Wait Simon you still got-” you were gonna say hes still got his mask on, it will scare Lizzie and Emilia and confused them both as well. But your words die in your throat as you watch him tug it over his head, stuffing it in his pocket. You didn’t realise until now he must’ve washed the black war paint off when he got up. You watched in stunned silence, the man who never takes the mask off, ever. Has now taken it off, his dark short cut hair on display.

With baited breath you watch as the door opens, Lizzie coming into view with Emilia standing next to her gripping her hand. Lizzie looks up at the taller male with wide eyes, filled with confusion. You’re too shocked to register any words being exchanged between the two, you’re shaken from your trance when Simon turns to face you with a small smile. Jaw covered with a light stubble, dark chocolate eyes, a small scar cuts into his brow, two other scars rest just above his other brow. His nose is sharp, jawline defined. On his left another scars cuts through his top lip going up to the outer edge of his nose. There’s a another scar that paints his skin from the bridge of his nose trailing to the right, ending on his cheek bone below his eyes.

“MAMA!” Emilia screams, snapping you out of the trance properly. You crouched down catching her in your arms, ignoring the fact she just rammed straight into your heavily bruised ribs. “Hey pumpkin! I missed you so much.” Emilia wraps her arms around your neck, legs clinging to your waist like a koala as you stand up. Your arms scooped under her to support her properly as you walk over to stand next to Simon. “Thanks a lot Lizzie. I’ll go get your pay-” Simon stops you from moving towards the kitchen island to get your wallet. “Already paid her.” He states, hand resting on your lower back as you look up at him. Emilia looks between the two of you smiling. Lizzie waves it off and says shes happy to do it again, you bid her goodbye and close the door.

Emilia dragged Simon off to her room while you talked to Lizzie, saying something about wanting to show him her stuffed toys. You thank Lizzie again, showing your appreciation for her looking after your daughter. Once you closed the door, you stroll down the hallway. Hearing the rumbling timbre of Simon’s voice softly echoing around the apartment. You reach Emilia’s room, leaning against the door frame, you bite your tongue to not giggle at the sight in front of you.

There’s stands, Simon Ghost Riley, Clad in black cargo pants and a dark grey shirt. Sitting Criss Cross Apple Sauce on the floor, the pastel pink fluffy rug below him a strong contrast to his clothing. Emilia is rambling on about her stuff toys, pulling each stuffed animal off her bed to show the large man. Simon’s eyes are soft, just the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he nods along to Emilia’s words.

“And this one is Burt! He’s a water dragon! See!” The young girl states, a large smile on her face, cheeks rosy from excitement to showing a new person her toys. “Nice to meet you Burt.” Simon greets the toy, probably the umpteenth one he has greeted in the span of five minutes. “Nice to meet you too Mr. Simon!” Emilia states, hanging her voice to sound like a boyish drawl. You can’t help but chuckle at this, walking into the room when they both look over at you.

“I see your toys like Mr. Simon quite a lot, sweetheart.” You smile, taking a seat on the ground, knees tucked beneath you. Emilia smiles, nodding her head as she grabs another toy, leaving the small blue dragon next to Simon, like the rest of the toys she’s shown him so far. “She’s very confident and friendly for a kid.” Simon quietly states, keeping his voice low to talk to you. You nod and shrug your shoulders, a small smirk on your lips. “Yeah, I guess so. She always has been.”

“Mr. Simon… are you staying the night?” Emilia ask’s suddenly, gripping her favourite stuffed dog, in her hands. Simon looks from the young girl to you, in which you just nod to Emilia. “If your mum says I can.” He states, his tone soft. Emilia’s eyes light up, she jumps towards you, pressing the dog toy into your chest. “Please mama! Please please please! Can he stay!” She asks, more like demands. You laugh lightly, scooping the young girl up in your arms. Cradling her against you, humming in a a question manner. “Hmmm. I don’t see why not. SO yes, he can stay.” You conclude, laughing when Emilia squeals in excitement. “Thank you thank you!” She dashes from her spot in your arms, towards her bedroom door. “I gotta go build a fort for movies! Don’t come over till I’m done!” She states, dashing towards the living room, her bare feet pounding against the hardwood.

“Well… Look’s like you have a fan.” You tease the quiet man, a small smile on your lips as your eyes soften when you see him. His large and scarred hands softly gripping the small dragon toy in his hands. “Seem’s so… Guess I’m going to be spending more time here.” He states, standing as he places the toy back on the bed. You stand next to him, leaning up and leaving a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you…” you softly state, placing a hand on his upper arm before leaving the room when you hear Emilia yell something about needing help.

Simon watches you leave, a hand ghosting over his cheek. His chest tightening with emotion, it feels tight but its almost comforting. He shakes his head as he follows you out, planning to help Emilia with her ‘fort’.

#fanfic #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod ghost x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw ghost #cod mw x reader #female reader #afab reader #call of duty fanfic

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mamaestapa · 4 months

Text

Closer|| E.Edwards x reader x R.McGroarty

•pairing: Ethan Edwards x reader x Rutger McGroarty

•summary: After the Umich hockey team gets swept by MSU in their two game series, Ethan and Rutger help you become somebody else while you help them get away from themselves…

•word count: 4.4k

•warnings: SMUT, inspired by the song Closer by Nine Inch Nails, THREESOME, both guys inside/penetrating at the same time, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, oral sex (male and female receiving) ,foreplay, hair pulling kink, whipped cream, belly shots, brief blindfolding, reader has a belly button piercing (even if you don’t have one, you do for this fic bc it’s so hot), blood, choking, SMUT, this is pure filth. if descriptive, absolutely nasty, all porn no plot smut makes you uncomfortable DO NOT READ!!

DIGITAL ANIMAL AU MASTERLIST

You were sitting on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram as you waited for Ethan to get back to his apartment from Yost Ice Arena.

Tonight was the final game of the MSU v UMICH weekend series. The guys played well tonight, but not well enough to pull out a win. Ethan and Rutger each scored a goal over the course of the last two nights, but State was unfortunately the better looking team both nights. The games didn't quite go the way you or the fans had hoped, but you had to remind yourself—It's still early in the season. They can come back from this.

During the game, you had seats in the front row bleachers of the student section with the Children of Yost. You sat with your friends and some of the other girlfriends of the hockey players. As you sat in the stands, you split your attention between the game and your phone—scrolling through Instagram to see if the Umich Hockey page had posted anything about your boys.

You checked the team’s story first, coming across a great amount of content from the boys pregame warmups. You couldn’t stop the widening of your eyes as you watched the clip play on your phone.

Ethan was wearing a navy blue University of Michigan hockey shirt and matching shorts with the maize M on the side of his right pant leg. He wore his socks like usual, pulled up to his knees and paired with his favorite pair of tennis shoes.

Rutger was standing next to Ethan, sporting the same shorts and a long sleeved gray compression shirt with the maize M on his left pec. The shirt hugged his broad chest and muscular figure perfectly. The chain around his neck peeked out from the material of the tight shirt, which was something you loved to see.

In the clip, Ethan and Rutger had just finished running their laps. Both boys chests were heaving as Ethan ran his fingers through his hair. Ethan gazed at Rutger with a smirk as he reached out and slapped the sophomore on the back mouthing “atta boy”.

It wasn’t unusual for them to interact like this, but something about the way the two looked at each other in that ten second clip had you feeling many things.

Your heart raced and you crossed your legs as the video came to an end and the story moved along. Ethan and Rutger looked insanely hot. Something about the pre-game warmup look the boys wore had you going absolutely feral and feeling your pulse in other areas.

You shut your phone off and set it down in your lap. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth as you looked out onto the ice, watching the rest of the game.

You couldn't wait for the game to be over...

So here you are now a couple hours later: sitting on the couch in his apartment and waiting for Ethan to come home. Just as you picked up your phone to check the time, Ethan entered the apartment. He set his belongings down on the counter, huffing out a loud sigh as he did so. You chuckled to yourself and got up from the couch, walking into the kitchen. A small smile pulled at Ethan’s lips as he looked at you.

"Hey hot stuff." you greeted as you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. Ethan chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, leaning down to kiss your temple. "Hey yourself."

You hummed and pulled away from Ethan, looking into his soft brown eyes. Your eyes scanned Ethan’s figure, taking in his beautiful eyes, his chiseled jawline, and that stupid backwards white Michigan cap that had you feeling things you shouldn't be feeling.

You brought a hand up to Ethan’s head, slightly tipping the cap back which made Ethan chuckle.

“What?” you asked coyly, even though you knew exactly what he was going to say to you.

“You have that look on your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Eddy.”

Ethan snaked his arms back around your waist, smirking as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. You could feel the warmth radiating off of both of your bodies as you stood pressed against each other. Ethan leaned in to the side of your head, pressing his lips onto the sensitive skin of your neck. He nipped softly at the spot under your earlobe as a new voice spoke lustfully into your ear.

“You know exactly what look he’s talking about sweetheart…”

You pulled back from Ethan, looking up at the boy who had entered the apartment behind Ethan.

Rutger.

With a slight smirk pulling at your lips, you brought a hand back up to the backwards cap on Ethan’s head while your other hand gravitated towards Rutgers chest. You rolled the silver chain cross necklace between your fingertips as you spoke.

“You both looked so good tonight.”

You eyed Ethan, “Eddy, in your blue and your backwards cap…” you sighed blissfully before turning to Rutger and finishing your sentence, “And Rut, something about this chain and you scoring tonight has me all worked up.”

Ethan’s eyes grew dark with lust as he smirked down at you.

Ethan gently squeezed your waist as he said, “Well maybe we should do something about that.” He looked at the younger blonde boy next to him, “What do you think Rut?”

“I think we should…” He trailed off, tongue resting on the side of his cheek as his blue eyes grew dark with lust.

Before you knew it, your lips were smashed against Ethan’s as you rushed into his bedroom. You were taking the cap off of his dark hair and tugging at the hem of Rutgers shirt as the two ushered you through the door frame and into the room.

…

Ethan hooked his fingers underneath your t-shirt, ripping the material off of your body with ease as he continued to kiss you hungrily, wanting to taste more than just your soft lips. Rutger’s veiny hands gripped your bare sides as he pushed you up against the wall of Ethan’s bedroom. His blue eyes grew dark with lust as he gazed down at your breasts sitting perfectly in a navy, lace pushup bra. Perfect for the Michigan game tonight.

It was Rutgers favorite set of yours. It never failed to grow his arousal even more.

"Much better." Rutger smirked as he eyed your perky breasts. He harshly cupped your left breast, digging his digits into the cup as he kissed along your jawline.

Your breathing grew shallow as he bit at your skin. Ethan was kissing along your collar bone, both boys were now sucking at the skin of your neck and leaving deep red blotches. You threw your head back at the feeling of their soft lips against your skin. You brought your hands up to each one of their heads as a soft moan escaped your parted lips.

You ran your fingers through Rutgers damp dark blonde strands as your other hand tugged at the tips of Ethan’s brown hair.

You moaned softly as Ethan’s kisses grew sloppier. He pulled his face away from your neck, smirking slyly at you as he toyed with the waistband of your jeans. He slipped two fingers into your pants, brushing them up against your clothed core. You gasped as his long fingers teased your sensitive clit through the lace, his movements making the wetness between your thighs more apparent.

Rutger gave you a sultry look with his tongue pressed against the side of his mouth as he pulled Ethan’s hand out of your shorts. Rutger harshly pulled you away from the wall, pushing you down flat onto the bed instead. You let out a breath as excitement swirled through your body.

You haven't been this way with your boys in a long time.

It’s been weeks since the three of you have gotten alone time like this.

Rutger ripped your buttoned pants open with ease, slowly sliding them down your legs before tossing them to the floor next to the bed. His lustful eyes scanned over your body laying on his teammates bed. He looked at your face first, taking in those doe eyes and your plump lips he loved so much. His eyes trailed down to your chest, his heart was racing as he looked at your breasts sitting perfectly in the cups lined with lace. He then trailed his eyes further, a smirk pulling at his lips as he looked at your perfectly pierced belly button and your lace covered core.

You may be Ethan’s girl, but you were the most beautiful girl he's ever laid his eyes on.

As Rutger looked at your figure, an idea came to your boyfriend’s mind. Something he's never done before, but something he's wanted to try for a long time. He reached out to the bedside table and grabbed what he was thinking of.

"Put this on her…” Ethan trailed off, handing Rutger a navy blue headband with the M logo in the middle. Rutger eyed Ethan as he carefully took the headband from him. A smirk pulled at the sophomores lips as he slid the material onto your forehead.

He knew exactly what Ethan was hinting at.

Rutger pulled the headband down so your eyes were completely covered.

"There we go." Ethan whispered huskily, his arousal growing at the sight of you blindfolded by his headband.

“What are you doing?" You asked, voice quiet and also slightly confused. Ethan has never blindfolded you before.

"You'll see." Your boyfriend purred as he trailed a hand down your body.

Your core ached and your heart fluttered at the thought of trying something different with both Ethan and Rutger. Not only were you excited, but your body was excited, too.

You closed your eyes as they were met with darkness from the headband. You couldn't see anything, but you could hear everything going on in the room around you.

Ethan grabbed the whipped cream and the bottle of rosé from the bedside table. He took the lid off of the whipped cream, shaking it before taking the lid off and putting it in between his lips. He spit the lid out, the red cap hitting the wall behind the two of you before it fell to the floor.

Ethan eyed your breasts as he shook the can of whipped cream in one hand. He reached out for you with his other hand, placing it on your left rib. His long, skilled fingers slowly trailed up your sides, making you shiver at the sensation.

Ethan unclasped your bra, wetting his lips as he watched the red material fall from your chest, letting your breasts free. Ethan pressed the white tip of the whipped cream can and made a circular motion with the can as he sprayed the cream onto your hard nipples. As soon as he was satisfied with the amount, he threw the can to the side and immediately attached his mouth to the sensitive bud, sucking at the sweet cream that adorned your breasts. His tongue swirled over each of your nipples, making sure to lap up every last bit of the sweet cream.

"Oh Eddy," you let out a breathy moan at the feeling of Ethan’s tongue swirling around your hard nipples. You could feel yourself getting wetter just from him lapping up the whipped cream.

Ethan chuckled at your reaction as he detached his lips from your right breast. He leaned over and grabbed the bottle of rosé off of the bed and pulled the cap off with a slight pop.

He handed the bottle over to Rutger, giving him a curt nod as he gestured to your naked body.

“All yours Rut.”

You pulled Ethan’s headband off of your eyes just in time to see Rutger bring the tip of the bottle down to your belly, letting it rest against your skin as he poured the rosé into your belly button. He eyed you as he quickly slurped the rosé out of your belly button as some of the liquid trickled down your sides

"That's new." You said, an amused smile on your face as you watched Rutger slurp the rose out of your belly button.

Ethan has a time or two, but Rutger’s never done belly shots from you.

Tonight is already proving to be one of those nights where you, Ethan, and Rutger help each other become someone else together, not only romantically but sexually, too.

After slurping out every last drop of the liquid, Rutger bit down on the jewelry adorning your navel. He and Ethan loved to play with your piercing during sex.

Something about the silver diamond jewelry just got them even more excited. You brought your hands down to Rutger’s head, running your nails over his scalp as he continued to bite at and play with your navel piercing. You bit your lip and let out a soft whimper as he tugged harshly at the ring while gently cupping your breasts as he did so.

You could feel Rutger’s deep chuckle vibrate against your belly. "You like that?" he asked, a teasing smirk on his face as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Mhm..." You trailed off, your response coming out as a blissful moan as Ethan attached his lips to your still hard nipples. Both boys were now worshiping different parts of your bodies as if their lives depended on it.

It was hard for you to form words right now with the way Ethan and Rutger were teasing you. Rutger smirked up at Ethan as he kissed down your belly, his hot breath against the skin of your abdomen making that warmth pool in your belly already.

Tonight was supposed to be about you taking care of your boys, but right now, it seemed like your boys were taking care of you instead.

Rutger stopped his trail of kisses once he got to the waistband of your lace panties. Your eyes widened in disbelief, your heart pounded with excitement, and your pulse was felt in your most intimate area as you watched Rutger hook his finger into the waistband of your panties.

But his finger wasn't the only thing trying to take your panties off...

Rutger lowered his head so that he was now lined up with your clothed core that was practically dripping just from the sight of him.

He kept his blue eyes locked on yours as he bit down on the waistband of your navy panties. He slowly started to pull the fabric away from your waist. You lifted your legs slightly, giving Rutger just enough room to slide your panties down your legs with his mouth.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Not only could you not believe what you were seeing, but you loved what you were seeing.

You've never seen him act this way before. Something about the hungry look in his eyes as he stared at your aching, dripping womanhood made you feel another level of turned on you've never quite felt before.

Rutger ripped your panties out of his mouth and threw them off to the side with the pile of other clothes. He lowered his head back down to your dripping core, his tongue instantly lapping at your glistening folds.

Ethan has taught him very well.

"Oh- fuck..."you whimper out as Rutger ate you out like a starved man. The blonde chuckled against your folds, the vibration sending what felt like an electric shock through your body as it made you jolt. Ethan brought his veiny hands down to your thighs, keeping your legs spread open as his teammate buried his tongue into you.

“Keep ‘em open for Rut, pretty girl.”

Rutger moaned against your core as the taste of your sweet juices hit his taste buds. You tasted like sweet honey...

"You taste so good, Y/n." Rutger praised as he took a hand off of your thigh, placing it onto your womanhood and letting his thumb rub circles against your clit as he continued to lap at your soaked core. The feeling of both Rutger’s tongue and fingers sent you over the edge, turning you into a whimpering and quivering mess in no time.

You bucked your hips slightly as Rutgers movements quickened. His jaw clenched with each swipe of his tongue and the muscles in his forearm flexed with each stroke of his thumb. Your chest heaved as he licked a stripe up your core.

"Fuck Rut, don't stop..."

You brought your hands down to the back of Rutgers head, gripping the ends of his blonde hair as you pushed him closer to your center. Rutger panted against you, feeling your walls clench around his tongue as you grew close to your first orgasm of the night.

Ethan got on the bed behind you, holding you against his chest for support as Rutger quickened the movements of his fingers and rhythm of his tongue.

You let out a whimper as Rutger pressed down on your lower belly with his hand, trying to keep you still. He knew you were getting close from the way the your chest rose and fell, and how your hips were bucking every time his tongue swirled over your clit.

Ethan told him you did that when you were about to cum.

"That's it baby," Ethan praised, "Let him taste you."

You let out a few more whimpers, moaning Rutger’s name in pleasure as you felt the familiar warmth in your lower belly. Soon enough, your chest was heaving as it all came crashing down and you were overcome with complete pleasure and bliss. Rutger lapped up your juices with his tongue, pulling his face away from your soaked core.

He licked his lips dry, making sure to get every last drop of you into his mouth.

Rutger smirked as he watched you come down from your orgasmic high, your heaving chest soon going back to its normal rythmuc rising and falling.

"In all the the times I’ve hooked up with you, I don't think I've ever seen you cum that hard." He smirked, a sense of pride in his tone as he spoke. "That was hot.”

“All because of you.” You replied, still trying to catch your breath and recover from your climax.

Ethan pulled you up into a sitting position before crashing his lips onto yours. You changed positions and wrapped your arms around his neck, trailing your hands down his back as your nails dug into his skin.

You detached your lips from your boyfriends, instead kissing Rutger. You could taste yourself on Rutger’s lips as the two of you shared a passionate kiss. As his toned body was pressed against yours, you could feel Ethan’s erection poking at your thigh. He had been so turned on watching his best friend eat his girlfriend out. It was his turn to be taken care of now.

You were going to help him get away from himself for a few minutes...

You pulled away from Rutger, smirking up at the blonde forward as your hand traveled south to your boyfriends middle. Your hand brushed over his erection as you spoke, "Your turn, Ethan."

Ethan bit his lip in anticipation as he watched you slide out from the bed, moving so that you were now directly in front of him. You gave Ethan a sultry look as you slowly got down on your knees in front of him. Ethan felt like the luckiest guy in the world right now.

Not only was he happy with Rutger learning how to please you, but you were about to give Ethan the best blowjob of his entire life.

You reached out and palmed Ethan through his boxers, making him wince slightly at the feeling of your hand on his manhood.

"May I?" You asked, gesturing to his undergarments.

Ethan couldn't form words, so he just nodded. He needed you so bad.

He needed to feel your soft lips around him.

He needed to feel your soft hands around him.

He needed to feel you take him deeper, and deeper.

Ethan lifted himself from the bed, helping you remove his boxers from his body. Once the boxers were removed from his waist, Ethan’s impressive erection sprang free. He sat back down on the bed as you prepared to take him.

You gazed hungrily at him just like he did at you moments ago when you were the one being pleasured. You bit down on your bottom lip as you placed your manicured hands on Ethan’s thick, muscular thighs, spreading them apart as you slowly leaned down. Ethan closed his eyes as he waited for the feeling of your lips around him, taking him in deeper with each bob of your head.

You brought your lips down around the tip of his dick, pulling them off with a pop as your tongue teased his slit, licking the pre-cum off of the red tip. Between the feeling of your warm breath and your tongue toying with his manhood, Ethan threw his head back.

"Fuck," he groaned deeply as you slowly took more of him into your mouth. Your lips were sealed around the head of his cock, sucking and licking tentatively at his skin. Ethan bit his tongue, holding back the sounds of pleasure that threatened to escape as you sucked him off. He let out a strangled sound as you took more of him into your mouth.

As you started bobbing your head, Ethan couldn’t stop himself from bringing his hands up to your hair and pulling you closer to him.

"Fuck, Y/n-," Ethan moaned out as you spit on his dick, jerking him off with your lips still around him.

Ethan hasn't felt this good in weeks. Rutger hasn’t felt this good in weeks.

The season was already putting a toll on the boys mind and body. But right now, neither of them were thinking about any of that stuff. All Ethan and Rutger could think about was you and how you make them feel.

You make them feel perfect. You always have and you always will.

You bobbed your head rhythmically, making Ethan moan in pleasure.

“You're doing so good sweetheart.” It was Rutger’s turn to praise you as he noticed the tears in your eyes from Ethan’s size, "So good."

You could tell Ethan was growing closer to his release because every time you bobbed your head you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth. Ethan’s chest heaved up in down as his face contorted into a look of pleasure. He let out a few grunts as he came undone in your mouth. You brought him into a pure state of bliss, something he hasn't felt in a while. You pulled your mouth off of him and swallowed, giving him a couple minutes to come down and recover from his high.

“Closer” by Nine Inch Nails begins playing…

You stood up from being on your knees, standing in between Ethan’s legs as you leaned down and crashed your lips onto his. Your mouths moved in perfect sync as you let him taste himself on your lips just like Rutger had done for you.

Ethan bit down on your bottom lip, making you wince slightly as he drew blood. You pulled away from him, locking lips with Rutger who was now next to you and Ethan.

Rutger licked the blood off of your lip before attaching his lips to yours. The metallic taste of your blood filled both yours and Rutgers mouths as the drops of crimson hit your taste buds.

Rutger continued to kiss you hungrily, his movements urgent as he gripped your waist with the pads of his fingers. He pushed you down onto the bed, bringing you underneath him as he hovered over you. Ethan inched closer to your ear, his hot breath on your neck sending shivers up your spine.

"We’re gonna fuck you till you're screaming our names and shaking so hard you won't be able to walk."

Your boyfriend’s husky voice and the words he uttered down at you made you bite your lip in anticipation.

Ethan gently bit down on your earlobe, slightly tugging on it as he brought his head away from your neck. Rutger hovered over you with his left arm on the mattress as his right arm played with you. He harshly kneaded your left breast as his thumb and index finger pinched your sensitive, hard nipple. Ethan did the same thing to your right breast as he began to suck relentlessly as your neck, making you moan in pleasure as he marked his territory.

Ethan and Rutger wanted everyone to know that your were theirs, and only theirs.

Rutger licked a stripe up your neck, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin as he whispered huskily into your ear.

"Here we go."

He slid his cock into your slick entrance, burying himself deep inside of you. The feeling of his impressive length made your thighs clench and your eyes squeeze shut as you let out a moan. Rutger snapped his hips forward, making your hips buck up, matching his rough thrusts. You wrap your legs around Rutger, allowing him to thrust harder, faster, deeper.

"God," he groaned out as your walls clench around his cock, "You feel so good." His grunts mixed with the sounds of your moans and skin hitting skin.

Ethan could feel himself getting away from himself and his thoughts of the game tonight as he watched his teammate fuck you senseless. Each thrust of his hips and groan that escaped his lips had you all feeling pleasure in all the right places.

Ethan buried his face in your neck as you scratched harshly at Rutgers. Both boys left sloppy kisses on your neck as Ethan pulled his hips forwards, roughly thrusting into you with Rutger.

In and out. In and out. In and out. Each thrust grew deeper, the tip of Rutger’s cock hitting your cervix repeatedly made your body jolt with pleasure. You screamed his name as Ethan grunted under his breath.

"Fuck," he praised, "You feel so good, so tight."

Both boys continued to fuck you senseless, making you feel as if your whole existence was flawed as you laid underneath them. You immediately grew submissive from their touch, seeming to lose every ounce of dominance in your body.

The sounds of your moans filled the bedroom, as all you could smell was sweat and sex. After you let out a particularly loud moan, Ethan brought his hand up to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing you gently. You gasped at the feeling of your lovers hand around your neck as his ruthlessly thrusted himself into you, pushing deeper and deeper.

"Eth, Rut," you moaned out as you placed your hand over Ethan’s that was wrapped around your neck, "don't stop."

Rutger shook his head as Ethan removed his hand from your neck, instead placing it firmly on Rutgers chest. A bead of sweat trickled down the sophomore’s forehead before falling onto his lip. He leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours. You could taste the saltiness of his sweat as his tongue swirled around your own. Your bodies continued to move in a perfect rhythm as the three of you became panting and moaning messes underneath each others touch. You felt a familiar warmth pool in your lower belly.

You were so close.

"I'm so close." You practically whined as Ethan picked up the pace of his rough thrusts, with Rutger following suit.

Soon enough, your walls were clenching around them. The clenching of your slick walls made both Ethan and Rutger grunt.

Both boys could feel every inch of you from the inside, and it felt amazing.

"Fuck," Rutger growled, his deep voice making your body jolt in pleasure once again. The sound of him, the feeling of him, and the smell of him made you grow even closer to your orgasm.

Ethan could feel your walls clench once again, this time with more force. He knew you were close.

"That's it baby," Ethan pleaded, his chest heaving as he panted, "cum for me. Cum for Rut. We wanna feel you."

Rutger continued to pound into you, making sure you felt every single inch of him. The feeling of his large cock filling you up made your legs shake as you moaned in pleasure. You came down harshly on the boys manhood, your hands coming up to Ethan’s head and tugging at his dark brown locks as he and Rutger had you seeing stars.

You whimpered out Rutger’s name as your chest heaved up and down. You were completely blissed out as he continued to pump into you. He reached his climax shortly after you, groaning, and gripping onto Ethan’s thighs as spurts of his hot cum filled your insides.

Both Ethan and Rutger fucked you so hard that the three of you were completely blissed out, not thinking straight and feeling yourselves being brought closer to god. Rutger pressed his forehead against yours as you came down from your highs, chests heaving and bodies sticky with sweat.

“I love you so much.” He breathed out, his hot breath hitting your face as he spoke.

You didn’t know if it was the heat of the moment or if Rutger really did love you.

“I love you too Rut.” You said, your breathing matching his. You leaned your head against Ethan’s shoulder as you continued, “And I love you Ethan.”

Rutger pulled out of you and plopped down on the bed next to you and Ethan, pulling you into his side. You immediately melted into his touch, letting your backside lean against him as you wrapped your arms around Ethan’s sticky torso as

“That was amazing.” You said blissfully as you were stuck between your boys, “I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything except just lay here.”

Ethan smirked down at you as he gently stroked your bare arm with his fingertips. “Well,” he breathed out, “I think I should wear that backwards hat more often.”

“And I think I should score more often.”

You chuckled softly at both Ethan and Rutgers sly remarks.

“I think you should too.” You replied honestly.

hi loves!!

SOOOOO this was CRAZY. DIRTY. NASTY. INTENSE. if this made you uncomfortable i deeply apologize…this song, closer, if you haven’t listened to it…just do it once for the purpose of this fic. it’s such a catchy but downright dirty nasty smutty song😭

i also apologize if this was super cringy. i used some of the same stuff from digital animal, so that’s why some bits may seem familiar.

i wrote this fic about joe burrow over the summer and it got a lot of love so i figured i’d re-write it for my ethan and rutger girlies since digital animal seems to be a favorite ;) i love that you’ve all turned one fic into a whole au! i never thought it would turn to that, but i’m so glad it has. i love all of you and your amazing thoughts/thots😚🤍

as always, thank you for all of you kind words and support with my writing. you are the best! i love talking with all of you and getting to share my work with you. your constant sweet messages, asks, words of encouragement, and wonderful au and story ideas are what keep me going. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH🫂🤍

#closer #digital animal au #ethan edwards x reader #rutger mcgroarty x reader #ethan edwards smut #rutger mcgroarty smut #ethan x reader x rutger

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neet-elite · 29 days

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↳ EVENT 24. Sebastian & Sam (Stuck & Oral Fixation)

Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader / Sam Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 3,928 Warnings: stuck trope, oral fixation, spitroast, blowjob, established relationship (fuckbuddies), fingering, drool/saliva, kissing, brief cunnilingus, ass slapping Prompt(s): 08 — stuck + 11 — oral fixation Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: the boys are back in town :D i love this duo so so much so THANK YOU for providing me another opportunity to ramble abt em <3 i think i indulged a bit too much tho haha...!

The opportunity that you've so unfortunately provided them today is stressful for only one out of the three present, and she's currently only went and got her dumb ass stuck in that rickety old fence he's made a comment or two about fixing before. Even offered to fix it up for you himself, the few times he's leaned on it for stability have resulted in his complete mistrust for the splint wood, worried that it might end up hurting you one day. From his position though, and Sam's, it's rather funny to see you between the slats if nothing else. Told ya so rests heavily on the tip of his tongue, begging to be tutted down at you with as much ill-intent as he feels in his tight chest. But what escapes him instead is a loud whistle, a little walk around your embarrassing predicament so as to fully take in the regrettable situation you find yourself in, because someone has to do it, right? And it sure as fuck isn't gonna be you, your face squished against the dirt below, ass up in the air for them to gawk at— did ya have to wear a skirt today, too? Almost as if you were intending for them to walk in on the lewd sight, the kind of imagery that only exists in porn to his knowledge. Not that he's complaining, really. A smile tugging at his lips as he assesses the scene with butterflies in his tummy.

It's the perfect opportunity, really. A quick glance towards Sam offering him the filthy resolution he's been seeking. The cheeky smirk his friend wears in kind, an unspoken communication of: she won't mind, right?

Given that they've played with you on plenty occasions before; were you perhaps trying to entice them on purpose? Needy little thing like you, getting yourself stuck in such plain view like that, knowing that they were planning on visiting today to help around the farm; and not just an excuse to play with you some more, promise! His boot coming out quick to kick at the fence where you aren't posted, the shrill squeak you let out in return from feeling the vibrations run along your trapped body tells him all he needs to know.

You really are stuck, you fucking idiot.

He walks to your front, bending his knees to squat before you. One finger under your chin to help tilt your gaze up to his half-lidded stare, a knowing smirk on his lips when you let out a low huff of disapproval at his leering. "How'd this happen, then?" He cocks his head to the side, peripheral vision granting him clarity on what Sam intends to do as his friend gets situated behind you, gaze glued to your ass as you unknowingly wiggle around for freedom. All you're doing is teasing them, baby... Inherently provocative, pushing their buttons without even trying. So really, it's your own fucking fault that he's bulging in his pants right now, isn't it? Which is why he feels no guilt in openly palming away between his legs, cock already hot and heavy under his perverted touch while awaiting your surely useless reply— it doesn't matter what you have to say for yourself, he's already made his mind up. And he's sure Sam is much the same, cock quickly hardening from behind your ass at the wordless agreement to take advantage of you in such an erotic position. Wouldn't you do the same if the roles were reversed? Fuck, now that's an idea, huh?

After some time, what is in actuality probably just a few seconds of more than likely resigning to your trapped fate, you answer him with a sigh. "Was trying to fix it, like you suggested..." Course you were, he thinks to himself. Didn't think to ask him for help like how he had offered, Sam too. Knowing that a dumb little girl like you wouldn't know where to even start when it comes to fixing things, right? So it's no surprise to him that you've gotten yourself in such a sticky situation; in more ways that one, soon enough, if he and Sam have anything to do about it. And really, it's only their opinion that truly matters right now, if you want any kind of hope of escaping your self imposed confines today that is. "And— Look, I don't know exactly what happened, but I'm here now, and no matter what I do I can't get out..."

He finally lets go of that self serving tut upon your lacking explanation, smiling to himself at Sam's matching patronising laugh. It's more than a shared want to exploit you for your mishap, rather, a deep seated need to express their mutual affections for you, in perhaps the filthiest way possible. Because it's the most easily understood confession, right? The finger he's got lifting your chin up dropping, and your head swiftly follows, still eagerly palming away at the tent in his pants when Sam places a hand on your ass and you jump in response—as much as possible given your stuck position—in an honest display for their eyes to feast on. You're real cute when you're unsure, bunny.

"Need some help?" Sam asks rhetorically, but the tone he carries his words with resembles more like a sugary sweet coo rather than anything genuine. A flirt, to an extent, letting his hand lightly grab and squeeze at the fat of your barely covered ass; you always were so good at teasing them, weren't you? So you've got no one to blame but yourself when his thumb digs into your ass, pulling at the cheek to taunt your stupidity, giving you a brief wow at the assumed sliver of cunt you offer him from behind your panties. "It'd sure be a shame if someone were t'find you stuck like this, right?" He practically slurs from above, enamoured by the sight of your pretty panty clad ass greeting him. It's one he's grown used to, late at night in your bedroom, even once or twice in the saloon bathroom, taking turns with Sebastian on who keeps watch to make sure no one but themselves get to see the mess their cocks fuck you into. But nonetheless, it's a pretty sight. Especially when his fingers dig harder into your ass, so soft and plush under his perverted touch, aren't you? And so ripe for the taking too, a sweet fruit for him to indulge in while Sebastian talks all nicely to you. All platitudes and pleasantries, keeping the faux casual act up as a means to make the situation just a little hotter. And it gets to Sam, too. Cock pulsing in his tight pants as you wiggle under his exploring touch, driven to tease you some more with the low condescending hum Sebastian lets out, as if he were scolding you.

But he's not, is he? The drone of his voice conveying only appreciation, instead. A small thanks for offering them such a prime opportunity. "Oh, but someone has found you, haven't we?" He begins, the sound of his zipper surely causing you to shiver some more against Sam's hands, made worse only by the tinkle of his friends belt unbuckling, quickly dropping to the ground beside you with a muted thud! "You're lucky it was us, sweetheart," He continues, fighting with his jeans to be able to tug them down low enough to let his cock spring free, the cool air that greets his red hot tip prompting beads of precum to drip for you. Aren't you thirsty, baby? It's a rather warm day today, after all, and God knows how long you've been stuck there. Thankfully, he knows exactly how to help quench you.

"Lucky t'have your friends here t'help you out, right?" Sam picks up where Sebastian left off, taking a harsh suck of air through gritted teeth when he inevitably starts playing with your panties out of instinct. Pinging them against you like the sadist he seems to be, just to hear you whine and beg for mercy. And he laughs to himself, dark and deep, all toothy for Sebastian to mimic when Sam too hauls his cock out of his underwear. Sebastian can't help but noticed the throb of it, veins popped with all the blood collected there. God you're so pretty when you're being so easy for them like this, Sebastian's chest tight at the mere thought of abusing your sorry state of affairs, cock leaking for you before he's even enacted his twisted plans.

"Guys, please—" You plead so prettily, did y'know that? The honeyed tone you adopt can only mean one thing, simply hearing you implore them to be of any actual use is enticing enough, Sebastian's cock twitching and dripping before you. But he waits, listens patiently to hear your plea before denying you the right of salvation. You'll get there, soon enough, but don't you owe them something first? "I've been here for so long, it hurts a little... Can you quit teasing and actually help me?"

They both bark laughter down at you, Sebastian taking to idly fucking his fist while Sam lazily flips your skirt up, enough to allow him to hook a finger under the waistband of your panties to pull them down. Sebastian watches as they pool around your ankle, squeezing the base of his cock a few times in response to Sam's rolled back eyes. "She's so wet already, Seb." Sam rasps, immediately poking and prodding about your perfect angel cunt like routine, finger stroking out those dulcet toned moans for Sebastian to affectionately smile at. Dirty girl, do you like getting caught?

"This what you need help with, right?" Sebastian coos down at you, once again lifting your head up to meet his sultry gaze, swallowing thickly at the sight of your furrowed brows and wobbly lips. His own throat dries as you stare back at him, knowing that he could cum at just the mere thought of your open, wanting, ready to receive cock, mouth. And here you are offering him that sulky expression for free; God, makes his cock ache from how desperately he needs you. "Sure seems like it," He huffs, expression turned a little more serious in the face of your unashamed lust; you might need actual help in freeing yourself, but you can't resist the opportunity of their attack, can you? You're no fucking better than they are, panting over you as if you were the tastiest fucking meal in the world, teeth baring in barely contained excitement to take a bite of you.

And Sam only confirms your stance with how squishy your cunt sounds for him, squelching and sucking his fingers in every time he buries them knuckle deep in your cunt. Exploring your insides like he's done countless times before, and yet still he's impressed with how soft and warm you are. Just a little stretching to help you take his cock, right? You're so used to him by now, don't you love the stretch he provides you? "Bet y'did this on purpose, didn't ya?" He sneers, knowing you can't properly reply when he's flicking the pads of his fingers against your soft spot.

"No... Promise, ah— It— It was an honest mistake..." You mumble your innocence, but the sound of your whiny moans thanks to Sam's fingers deep in your cunt goes right through Sebastian, straight down to his raging hard on that needs attending to, now that you've went and riled him up so easily like that. Joining his friend in kind when he grabs hold of his cock, still keeping your face up for your glassy eyes to peer at him, only... He now angles his cock right in front of you. Dangles it there, waggling it just out of reach of your lips to enjoy your eager whining. He's acting cocky for a reason, confident in Sam's abilities to finger fuck you all better so that he can have some fun with that expert mouth of yours— fuck, so good with your tongue, aren't you? And if he's honest with himself, he'd rather be balls deep down your throat than in your cunt, even if only by a small margin. Taking the opportunity to tap his tip against your lips when they part in pleasure, all thanks to Sam. Toying with you to his hearts content as you remain prone to his mistreatment, smearing fat globs of precum all over your pretty lips to leave them all wet and glossy for him to admire. You wear him well, he thinks to himself. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head when you deftly poke your tongue out for him, he was right. You are thirsty, aren't you? Being stuck must be hard work, poor girl... He's more than happy enough to give you a little drink— ecstatic, even, at the prospect of having your cute pouty lips wrapped tight around his cock. Needs it, really. Now that you've gone and provoked his open book obsession by lolling your tongue out, drooling to the ground under you in a lewd display. You're just so attractive to him, his heart skipping a beat at the way your body begs for his unfair touch. He only means to help you, right?

He's only doing you a favour by dipping his tip to your tongue, exhaling sharply at the wetness that immediately greets him. This must be how Sam feels right now, yeah? Fingering slick from your cunt while Sebastian indulges in your spit. Letting you kitten lick at it for a bit, merely watching you with curiosity as your eyelashes flutter shut so prettily he has no choice but to fall to his knees in submission. Fuck, you're already making him feel so good. If he could keep your moth attached to his cock forever, he'd do so in a heartbeat. Warm, wet, and so skilled; fucked that tight throat enough times to train you into being his personal blowjob hole, huh? Seething to himself at the way you lap up all of the copious amounts of precum your tongue coaxes from his cock, eyes trained on the cute pout you soon adorn because Sam's found your sweet spot. Not surprising, given that he's usually deep in your cunt some way every weekend, but Sebastian reacts as he usually does. With a hushed curse under his breath, instinctively bringing a hand up to your lips to fish hook your mouth back open for him. Leaking pre at the feeling of your saliva coating his fingers, drool collecting down his wrist as your tongue once again pokes out for his own selfish enjoyment. Taught you well, didn't he?

It's just that you look so good with a mouth full of cock, don't you? Hovering above you, repositioning himself so that it's easier to glide his cock down your throat when Sam withdraws his fingers from your cunt, causing Sebastian to grown out of desperation when his friend starts to coat his own cock with your slick. He knows how slippery you can get, but the view he has of your face from above, adorned by an aware welling of tears from their unjust treatment of your wedged body right now, is something he'd rather be viewing. Something he'd rather be taking advantage of, pressing his fat tip to your wanting tongue just in time to feel you rush a gasp out against him when Sam ultimately pushes his cock into your tight heat from behind out of necessity. A natural conclusion to seeing you present your holes to them today, Sebastian too taking advantage of you by sinking himself deeper into your mouth, causing your moans from Sam's slow rutting into you to become muffled around his cock.

"Jus' cashing in a favour before setting you free, babe." Sam struggles to get out from behind you, and Sebastian lets you know he agrees by tauntingly tapping at your cheek a few times. More spit, baby.

And you take them both so well, like a well trained dog, or a practiced doll. Easily allowing them to use you to their hearts content, a seedy sordid type of affair as they both fill you up all at once, leaving you a mere object of their affections as you're forced to accept their spitroast. But you're such a champ, God, Sebastian shoving his cock as far as he can down your tight throat until you start to gag a little, sweet little sounds vibrating around his tip for him to shudder a breath at. And Sam, eager to get the party started as per usual, offers you a brief smack on the ass with a wide grin. His tone tense when he praises you with: "So good, tight fuckin' body just wants to be fucked, right?" before he starts a quick enough pace to leave even Sebastian a bit winded from the sudden stimulation provided by your soft tongue rocked back and forth his throbbing cock.

Not that Sam can be faulted, mind you. Sebastian, too, wants to start ruining you, two palms secure on your cheeks to keep your head situated in the right place for him to fuck your throat in. Bending his body towards the fence, leaning his head against the broken post for stability so that all you can see is his pelvis, nose pushed up against his pubes every time Sam greedily fucks you forward. Sebastian winces a little at your movements, knowing that the wood might be scraping against your tender frame with how selfish Sam's thrusts are, but he can't bring himself to say anything about it when your tongue snakes around his length so well, just the way he likes. A blessing and a curse, honestly. Drool collecting in your mouth for him to fuck into, completely coating his cock in all of your saliva, feeling some of it dribble down your chin to land on his balls when he starts to fuck your throat in tandem with Sam's humps. Which is so fucking hot by the way, fuck— how you're unable to contain yourself, dribbling all over him so nicely that his tummy flips with excitement. You deserve some more praise for indulging him, he thinks. For getting yourself stuck in the first place, as well as for servicing them so perfectly; but your tight throat leaves him gasping for air. Panting over the fence as he takes in the sight of Sam's determination too, greedy hands gripping harshly to your hips, brows knitting together in sheer focus of your tight angel cunt. And then, their eyes meet. Mid stroke together, matching each others speed and intensity flawlessly as you choke and sputter between them, bet your squishy thighs are trembling together too, huh? Your dainty hands attempting to find purchase in the ground below as Sebastian's balls repeatedly knock against your chin, tacky with spit as his fat cock cuts off your air supply.

And what's a little kiss shared amongst friends, right? It wouldn't be the first, and it sure as shit won't be the last from how enthusiastically Sam leans forward, tongue already wetting his lips before Sebastian meets him with heated arousal. Openly moaning down each others throats as soon as possible, listening intently to your wet little cunt suck Sam's cock off so well, and your muffled whines for more when Sebastian pulls your head closer to his crotch with every desperate fuck down your throat. You're so perfect for them, pretty pursed lips wrapped so nicely around his pulsing cock, one of his hands slipping to the back of your head in plain need to fuck deeper, to feel the way your throat closes around his dribbling tip as you're forced to drink up all his spilling precum; just like how he's made to swallow every drop of saliva Sam drips onto his tongue, less sharing a heated kiss and more so acting like dogs. Lips barely pressed together, tongues interlocked, delving into each others mouths without ever fully closing the kiss, resulting in drool pooling onto your exposed ass.

It's all a bit too much for Sebastian. To be doing something so lewd out in public— fuck, anyone could walk by, couldn't they? And maybe they already have, greeted to the sight of the towns cute little farmer getting fucking abused by her best friends fat cocks, watching the way Sam and himself encourage the other to continue degrading you on your own turf by way of the intense kiss they share, moaning, humping, hands slipping and cocks gliding; God that's so hot, isn't it?

Hot enough for his fingers to intertwine in your hair, tugging on it harshly as a warning for his approaching orgasm. Sam, too, slaps your ass again once pulling away from the kiss. A look of pure pleasure on his face, coated in a light sheen of spit for Sebastian to stare at with adoration. Both huffing and moaning above you, too lost in the satisfaction your pretty body provides them to give you the compliments you deserve, too busy making themselves feel good by fucking your tight little holes to verbalize their thanks, their appreciation.

But you understand, right? You know that as Sam gives you a final brutal fuck, resting his heavy balls against your sopping cunt, bullying his tip against your cervix as a fat load shoots out just for you, that he's saying thank you, right? And that when Sebastian shoves his cock right down your closing throat, ignoring the sweet sputters for air you choke around him, the way you flail around is so fucking hot, fuck, keep struggling to take him, baby, keeping your face flush against his pelvis so that he can properly reward you with his spilling seed to coat your throat all sticky, that he's saying thank you too, right? Both men heaving above and behind you, revelling in the feeling of your still needy body attempting to suckle them some more in hopes of reaching your own end, fuck, so good. Poor thing, they've neglected to appropriately tend to you in their rush to use you, haven't they?

But as Sam pulls out of your stretched hole, Sebastian follows. Hearts in his eyes at the way you immediately hack and cough towards the ground, drool still yet dripping from your pretty lips for him to smile lovingly at.

Not a word is shared, Sebastian content enough just to watch you struggle some more while Sam repositions himself to lay on the ground, face up towards your cunt as his arms wrap around your lower back, gently tugging you a bit closer to his nose for him to huff at your sweet cunt scent. Gross, isn't it? How the semen that sticks to your hole makes it smell all the better to him, dirty fucking pervert that he is.

A single lap at your slit is all it takes to have you moaning again, and for inspiration to strike Sebastian and his still rock hard cock.

Maybe he can have a shot of your cunt now, yeah? Or, maybe he'd like to shut you up again. Keep your cock holster mouth quiet so no one can find them forcefully misusing you. He does so love fucking that pretty mouth of yours, finding himself staring down at it again as you whimper oh so seductively for them.

They're only doing it to help you though, remember?

#500 event!#damn this has every tag huh #anyway #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sam smut #sdv sebastian smut #stardew valley sam smut #stardew valley sebastian smut #sdv seb smut #stardew valley seb smut

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seoliee · 5 months

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Married with the LaD Men: CALEB

Notes: I felt bad not making one for him, but I hope this one is still up to par with the previous one I posted. Anyway, this man deserves so much more and I'm still hoping he could be a love interest in the future.

Oh and by the way, my dms are open for any requests. I have yet to put up a post, but do feel free to message me. I'd love to see your ideas and try to make them come to life ^^

What is it like being married to Caleb?

Word Count: 532 words

— CALEB : Home Sweet Home

• Caleb was discharged from work quite early than he expected. He's supposed to be scheduled stay in at work for a week, but shortened in just five days. All's well that ends well because he wants to surprise you anyway.

• Caleb who returned to an empty and cold home. He already half expected that you wouldn't be home as he's aware of your actions. Whenever he tells you that he wouldn't be home for an XX amount of days. You'll take that as a chance to sign up for missions to occupy and stop yourself from feeling lonely.

• Caleb who always felt bad about leaving you alone. He sends you messages everyday, but he feels like those weren't enough and had became a repetitive thing. Despite it all, once he's home, you'd always greet him with your sweet smile and pampering him with the love he craved the most.

• Caleb prepared all kinds of delectable dishes, especially his signature roast pork. He spreads his arms out, and you ran up to him with a tight embrace as he swirls you around, keeping his arms tightly secured around your waist.

• Caleb who buries his face on the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. He missed you so dearly. "I missed you so much, pipsqueak." You chuckled at his words, pulling away from him and playfully slaps his chest. Even after being married, he still called uses that nickname. "I missed you too, silly."

• Caleb who actively listens to all your ramblings about your day. He watches as you savor his cooking, commentating that you missed his cooking so much that anything she cooks cannot be matched. He merely chuckles, feeling a bit flustered, but happy that you enjoy them.

• Caleb who scooped you up into his arms, and walks into your shared bedroom. He gently lays you down on the mattress and hovers above you, caging you underneath him. He kept his gaze low, locking with your glimmering eyes. His fingers gently touches your cheek as if it was made of glass, tucking in a stray strand of hair behind your ear and glides under your jaw.

• Caleb who kisses you softly, relishing the taste of your soft lips. Both of your lips danced in a sensual tango, his tongue enters your wet cavern and occasionally brushing against your own. A low moan escapes his throat at the feeling of your hand running up his body and fumbling to undo the buttons of his shirt. He pulls away, licking his lips slowly and looks down at you with a predatory gaze, a playful smile grazing his lips. "Someone's eager today."

• Caleb who plunges his face to the crook of your neck, running his tongue up against your sensitive skin before biting down, and suckles on a patch of skin. He loved the small noises that escapes your lips, and how your body response to every move he makes. "Too bad." He whispers.

• Caleb who's eyes are filled with a mixture of love, lust and mischief in them, nibbles on your earlobe as you elicit a sharp moan. "Too bad that I want to take it slow tonight."

#love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #caleb x reader love and deepspace

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negansfavlucille01 · 27 days

Text

CLEAN IT UP

Negan × f!reader

Warnings: Blowjob, Negan, swearing, hair pulling

Note: I have a few first in my drafts, including innocence pt.2, and I'll post it soon, I promise. If you want to be tagged in my posts, pls say so.

So boring. She thought to herself while the meeting continued.

Negan was talking about supply runs and strategies, something she didn't understand. Y/N was sitting on her chair, bored, her hands on your thighs as she struggled to listen.

It felt like forever when...

"You're dismissed." Negan said, tapping his bat at the table to make sure everyone understood. She went to stand up and walked towards the door. "Y/N, pour me a glass of water before you go."

She sighed, dragging her feet to the small table in the corner of the room where the jug of water and the glasses were. She poured some, then went back to him to hand it. Her clumsiness, of course, had to ruin everything. She tripped over her own feet and fell, the water spilling right at her boss's crotch.

He slowly looked up, then back at where the water spilled. Biting his hip, he gestured her to get up. She stood up, putting the now empty glass on the table.

"Clean it up." It took her a few moments to figure out if he was talking about the floor or his crotch. But unfortunately, he was talking about, in fact, not the floor. "Did I fuckin stutter?"

"No, sir..." She walked to the small table again and took some tissues. He patiently waited for her return. She kneeled before him, right between his thighs and hesitantly reached to mop the water off his pants.

"Cmon, girl. I don't have all day."

Pressing fully your hand on the material, Y/N could feel that Negan had a slight hard on. She looked up at him with wide eyes, but in return she just got that stupid grin looking at her. She shyly looked at the floor as she rubbed the tissue on, mopping the water, but also getting him harder.

Once the pants were almost dry she stood up and threw the tissue in the bin. Wishing for a permission to walk out, she turned to your boss, but he again gestured her to come back.

"See, darlin, you gotta do a little more for me to forget what happened. You can't just fuckin' spill water on me, can you?" She nodded, kneeling down and slowly working her hands on his belt. Seeing his hardness grow made her panties soaked. She slid his pants down, still keeping his boxers on. He looked big. Very big. And that was confirmed when she took off the boxers as well, his long member slapped again his leather jacket, right where his belly button would be. He was long and thick, the mushroomy tip swollen and red. He was a treat. Leaning in and slowly licking the tip while looking into his eyes had him groaning lowly. Unexpectedly, he grabbed her hair and slammed his hips forward, making her take him all. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she gagged but she also felt so much pleasure. He held it long enough for her to slap his thigh, desperately trying to get him to let her go. He didn't. The heat in her core made her feel like a whore for him, but everyone knew the effect he had on women.

Sucking with tears in his eyes and feeling the stings down her throat were painful, but she still wanted to make him proud. He released her, letting her take a few breaths before she got back to work, sucking hard on the tip. His groans got louder and he gripped the table. She sucked and sucked until her jaw ached, her lips became pink and she felt him twitch in her mouth. "Shit, baby. I'm cumming.."

She took him as deep as she could and lookef up at him with lust-filled eyes to watch his reaction. His head is leaned back and his mouth is dropped open as he panted. Suddenly, she felt warm ropes of cum deep down her throat, making her choke. He pulled her face away and smirked as she recovered.

"Good girl."

#jeffrey dean morgan #jdmorgan #negan #negan smith #the walking dead #twd #twd negan #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #negan smut

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

Note

I’ve never done a request before

I got my hair cut and the hairdresser messed up my bangs :((( people have been telling me it looks okay and not too bad but I can’t stop fixating on the fact she cut too much and the ends are choppy :(((

Can you make a post where Peter comforts reader after a bad haircut! Thx in advance

how did this get so long? bestie, you inspired me

Bangs are not a normal hot girl thing.

Bangs are a sad, hot girl thing.

And you were a hot girl, but you were not sad, but you still have bangs and now you understand why bangs and mental breakdowns are associated. Because you look like you’ve had a mental breakdown.

“It’s not that bad, baby. I’m sure of it.” Peter’s laugh echoes through the phone, you wish it would make you feel better, normally his childlike giggles and optimism could beat out the harshest, negative thoughts, but tonight it almost makes you mad.

“This is my vietnam, peter. We have to break up, you can’t see me like this.”

A bubbling laugh, “it can’t be that bad, it’s just different.”

You run your fingers though your new fringe, it tapers oddly at the ends, one side definitely longer than the other. It’s just hair but it’s making you cry.

“Imagine you go into Terry’s for a trim and he gives you a buzz cut, what then?”

Peter sucks in air, “I’d have to dump you, no one should ever see that.”

“So, you understand.”

Peter hums on the line like a game of jeopardy, “how about you let me be the judge. If it’s as bad as you say it is, I'll let you dump me.”

You tsk and shake your head on your side, you hear a siren blow by on Peter’s end. “See, that’s what we need to avoid, you can’t see me, your last memory of me needs to be a good one.”

Peter lets out a breath, it’s sarcastic sympathy. “Too late, let me in.”

You gasp, you leap off your bed and press your forehead against your window. When you close one eye and tilt nearly halfway around you can see the front of your building, sure enough your boyfriend is waiting to be buzzed in. In a panic you move to slap your hand against the bangs, you’re not ready, it’s so bad.

“Nuh uh. Go home, not happening.”

It was useless, he’d be climbing up the fire escape in ten seconds. You run around your room trying to collect things to hide your bangs behind.

“Don’t make me climb up there in daylight.” He’s pouty.

“I’m not, you can come back in three to six weeks when I don’t have bangs anymore.”

Peter ignores you, “twenty seconds and I’m climbing.”

You hold your breath, pressing back up against the window, you look at him. His phone pressed against his ear, he’s leaning against the outside gates. His gaze set on his wristwatch, he’s literally counting the seconds.

A snicker, “I can feel you watching me.”

“Unfair advantage.”

“Still looking, down to five seconds, baby.”

“I’m not doing it, we’re broken up, remember?”

Peter’s wrist lowers, he pulls away to look up at your window, there’s no way he can see you but he knows you’re there, it looks like he’s making direct eye contact.

“You’re gonna make me do this?”

“I’m not making you do anything, this could be considered trespassing you know. And if I were to pile more things on…” You’re speaking and watching him walk over to the side of your building, he’s on a mission. “this could be considered harassment, cause I did say we were broken up, and now you’re not..” He’s listening but not giving you any reaction, he tests the bar, you start to lose your train of thought, you really thought he wouldn’t do it. “you’re not.. You’re not stopping, peter, why aren’t you stopping?”

Peter pulls himself up with one hand, his feet resting on the bottom rung, one leg rises for the second step. You slap the glass, it makes him look up at your room. “I’ll let you in! I’ll do it!”

He narrows his eyes, he won’t move until you do. A whine sent you running to the front door, repeatedly hitting the button to open the door.

“Now was that so hard?”

“Manipulative!”

“See you in like, thirty seconds.”

“What’s with you and seconds?”

“Shush.”

You looked at your front door with crossed arms, just because you let him into the building doesn’t mean you’ll let him into your apartment. The doorknob wriggles, he couldn’t have thought it would be that easy.

“Honey, I’m home.”

You speak around a chewed nail, “no solicitors.”

“I had special permission to come up here.”

“No habla inglés?”

A chuckle, “you can do better than that.”

You think, one comes to you. “Actually, I don’t think my parents would like a boy in their home when they’re not here. Especially my ex boyfriend.”

A small thump against the door, either his forehead or a weak knock.

“Stop saying that, I don’t like it.”

Your heart tugs, you were just trying to be funny.

You rip the door open, “oh petey, I’m sorry. I didn’t-” you stop when you see his grin, he knows how to get you to open the door, tug at your heart strings.

“Evil.” You try to close the door, his hand catches it.

You narrow your eyes, he gives you a glance, “I’ll win.”

You grunt but let him in, quickly heading to your room where you can nuzzle yourself in between pillows. Peter’s just as quick, doing his best to catch up as soon as possible. “Let me-” He tugs at your arm, you shake it off, “no, you’re not seeing it.”

Diving into your bedsheets you fix the hoodie on your head, Peter follows.

“I’m gonna do it.”

His hands pull your hood away, he frowns at the beanie you pulled over your hair.

“Baby, it can’t be that bad.”

Your eyes glimmer, “it’s too short, and it’s all choppy and I hate them so much.” Your lower lip wobbles, all he can think to do is cup your face and kiss your forehead.

“Maybe I can fix it.”

He’s good at fixing things. You can trust him when he says that.

You perk up, “you can?”

Peter gestures to your hat, “let’s see the damage.”

You tug it off to reveal a pinned fringe, you unveiled it with shame. Peter shakes it out, you keep your eyes closed, you don’t want to see his reaction. Delicate fingers pulled at strands of hair, when he had it all placed he took an honest look at it, tried to see past his bias of you being the prettiest human in the world, and noticed you were right.

Not that he’d think you were lying, but possibly a tad dramatic. They came to the middle of your eyebrows, one side longer than the other, it almost looked like a ‘C’ curve. But, they looked good. They fit your face well, they make it highlight other features he had taken for granted. They just needed a little help.

“I can’t do anything about the length, but I can even it up for you.”

You still refused to look at him, “is it bad? Be honest.”

Peter moved his neck trying to catch your eyes, “they look really good, I love ‘em. I know it’s a little janky now but in two weeks they’ll be perfect.”

You look up, searching for a lie in his eyes. He’s telling the truth.

“It’s so short.”

He rubbed a thumb over your eyebrow, “just keep your eyebrows raised, they’ll never know.”

“Permanent botox.”

Peter grinned, he got you to feel better. He’s done his job, and it feels damn good.

He made a suggestive face, “wanna role play hairdresser?”

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter fluff #peter parker angst #my writing

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hyunjins-orange-slice-too · 2 months

Text

wash it first

Pairing: Han Jisung x f.reader

genre: smut

word count: ~2.5k

synopsis: you ordered yourself a little something to help you when jisung was away on tour, but he saw it before you could hide it.

warnings: established relationship- toys- phone sex- masturbation- pet names- squirting

masterlist

You picked the box up off of your welcome mat and carried it inside. You had never ordered anything like this before, so you were nervous how it would come. But the box is just blank, unmarked in any way and that made you happy. The post man doesn’t need to know what you’re up to. You placed the box on the counter and very carefully cut the tape with a pair of scissors. You removed the bubble wrapped item from its cardboard prison and slowly unwrapped it, examining your purchase. It was pink, which you loved. Made of silicone, so it was bendy. It had a suction cup at the base of it, and a few veins that run up and down the length. It seemed like the perfect size, about the size of your boyfriends cock, which is what you wanted. Since it was specifically purchased to help keep you company while Jisung was away, you tried to get it as close as possible to the real thing. Of course, nothing can compare to him, but you wanted something. Anything to get you through the lonely nights without him.

You stuck it to the kitchen counter, making sure the suction cup was attached. You just stared at it, standing straight up amidst the dish soap and the coffee machine. You gave it a good slap, and then giggled at yourself when it sprung back to its original position, still firmly suctioned to the counter. You wanted to try it out. You decided to shower first and get ready for bed before you tested it. You left it on the counter and headed to the bathroom. Placing your phone next to the sink, you turned on the newest stray kids album to listen to while you showered. It helped you miss him less if his voice filled the room. Steam surrounds you as you scrub shampoo into your scalp, singing along. After a dangerously slippery dance break, you shut the water off and stepped out.

Wrapped in a towel, you started your skin care when your music suddenly cut off. The phone vibrated against the counter. You looked down to see your boyfriends picture filling the screen, the FaceTime call from him ringing. You gasped, excitedly picking the phone up and hitting the accept button. "Hi baby!" You squealed at him, so happy to be talking to him.

He laughed. "Hi, honey. You’re just as excited to see me as I am you."

You nodded. "Tell me everything. How are you? How are the boys? Are your shows going good? I bet you’re exhausted." You’re rambling as you walk through the house, shutting off the lights before heading to bed.

"The guys are good, shows have been amazing. I am pretty ti—." He paused as you turned off the kitchen light. "Baby, turn that light back on."

Oh shit. In all the excitement of seeing him on your screen, you forgot about your recent purchase, still standing at attention on the counter. Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

"I was just getting ready for bed, Ji. I want to lay down and talk to you." You said, trying to play it off.

"Y/n I said turn the light back on." He was stern. Embarrassed, and with your back to the wall so he couldn’t see what was on the counter, you flipped the light back on.

"There. It’s back on. Can I go to bed now?" You asked, not making eye contact with him.

"Show me the counter."

"Why? It’s the same counter that was here when you left. I’m really tired." You started walking out of the kitchen toward your bedroom.

"Don’t you dare. Baby, show me the counter or I’m hanging up the phone right now."

You sighed, defeated. You slowly turned around, cheeks bright red, your new dildo suctioned to the counter behind you. You covered your face with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. He was quiet. Too quiet. You were scared that you were in trouble. "Han I’m sorry, I just really miss you when you’re gone and I thought it might help me at night when I get lonely without you and you’re busy at a show- I’ll get rid of it. It was a stupid idea- please don’t be mad. I’m sor—"

"Baby, baby." He cut you off. "I’m not mad."

You looked at him from above your fingertips. "You’re not?"

"Not at all. Actually.. that’s so hot." He said, his cheeks flushing a light pink. "You don’t have to keep something like that from me. I don’t mind if you have a little alone time when I’m not there to help you."

"That’s exactly why I bought it." You tell him. "I tried to get it as close to the real thing as possible."

"Show me." He says. "Get closer so I can see if you did a good job." He laughs.

You flip the camera around and bring it close to the toy, showing him as best as you could.

"You did good, sweetheart. It looks pretty similar. Though I don’t think it will compare." He laughed again.

You flipped the camera back to your face. "Oh, I know it won’t. But I wanted to try. I need something. I miss you so much."

"Aw I miss you too baby." He smiled at you, his eyes sparkling with love, and… mischief? He had something happening in his mind right now, you knew it. "Have you tried it yet?" He asked. Ahh there it is.

"Uh, no. I just got it today and I took a shower before I was going to try it. But you called and I forgot about it."

"So you were getting ready to try it and I interrupted?" He asked.

You nodded. "But I’d rather talk to you, I’ll try it another time."

"Or.." he looked a little nervous now, his hand pulling at the back of his neck. "You could still try it now."

"But- I’m talking to you right now. This is more important. I don’t know when I’ll get to talk to you again." You tell him.

"Baby, you’re the sweetest. I really love you." You smiled at his words. "But what I mean is, you could try it now.. with me on the phone."

Those words made your cheeks heat, and wetness to pool between your legs. You weren’t sure what to say. Were you brave enough to do that? You’ve always been so shy, especially when it comes to sex. But Han always made you feel so comfortable, you knew it would be okay.

"If you don’t want to, that’s not a big deal." He said, sensing your apprehension.

"No, I want to." You say, nervously. And then you just stand there, unsure of what to do next.

"Are you sure, baby? You really don’t have to if you don’t want to."

"I promise I want to, hannie. Want you so bad." You say quietly, looking at the ground. He groans on his end of the line. He could feel his erection pressing against his pants.

"Okay, honey. Wash it first, and then take it into the bedroom, yeah?" His voice was soft. He always got like this during sex and you loved that about him. You knew that he sometimes wanted to be the one on the receiving end of the soft tone and gentle commands but you haven’t been able to provide that for him yet. You would though, you were determined to, and he was being very patient. You pulled the toy off of the counter and washed it briefly before bringing it to the bedroom, finally shutting off the kitchen light as you left. Once in the bedroom, you stilled, unsure of what to do next, waiting for his instruction.

"Now prop the phone up on the floor against the wall, facing the bed." You did as he said. "Good, now sit on the floor next to the bed and look at me, baby."

You knelt on the ground next to your bed, dildo in hand, and looked at him.

"You going to take that towel off and show me your pretty body?" He asked. You pulled at the towel and let it pool on the floor around you. "There you go, baby. You’re so beautiful. You can put the toy down for now and just show me how you play with yourself, yeah? Play with your nipples baby, show me."

You slowly ran your hands up your body until you reached your breasts. You palmed them, lightly squeezing. You brought one hand to your mouth, and sucked on a couple of your fingers.

"Fuck baby, you’re so hot." Han breathes through the phone. You smile and bring your wet fingers down to your nipple, circling it until it peaks. You tug on it gently and close your eyes at the sensation.

"I miss you so much, hannie. Wish you were here touching me." You whine.

"Me too, my love."

You bring your wet fingers to your other nipple giving it the same treatment. You tug on them both and let out a soft moan.

"Show me your little pussy, baby." He says. You sit down on your butt, and spread your legs for him. He groans at the sight of you. "I can see you glistening." He bites his lip. "Show me how wet you are, use your fingers and get yourself ready, just like I would." You bring your hand down to your core, and dip your middle finger slightly into your entrance. You pull it back out again and swirl your finger around in your juices, making a wet sound for him. "That’s it baby, you’re so perfect. Rub your little clitty for me too, yeah?"

You nod and bring your wet fingers to your swollen bud. You rub slow circles, your eyes closing, your head falling back as soft moans escape your lips.

"Baby use your other hand and grab that toy." He tells you. You do as he says, and when you look back at him, he’s got his cock out. He’s slowly fucking his fist, his tip red and swollen and leaking precum onto his fingers. "Use your mouth, get it nice and wet." You bring the toy to your lips and lick the tip. You slowly lick from the base to the head, feeling the veins bulge on your tongue. You slip it into your mouth now, lightly sucking. "Make sure to get it all baby." He says, pumping his cock a little faster. You push the dildo into your mouth as far as you could, choking when it hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, yes baby. Do you think it’s ready to go in your tight little pussy now?"

You pull it from your mouth and nod at him.

"Suction it to the hardwood floor and squat above it, okay?" He instructs. You stick it to the floor and make sure it is firmly attached before squatting above it and lining yourself up with the tip. "Lean back against the bed to support yourself, baby. Grab on to the edge." You spread your arms out across the edge of the bed and grip the sheets in your hands. "Now ease down on it, go slow."

You lower yourself onto the toy, slowly pushing it inside of you. You could feel it stretching you. "Hannie.." you moaned.

"I know, baby. You’re doing so good. Does it feel good?"

"So good." You moan, fitting as much of it inside as you could in this position. "Feel so full."

"Shit, you’re so sexy, angel. So perfect. Fuck your little pussy for me." He groans as he fucks his fist faster.

You slowly bounce up and down on the toy, the sound of your moans mixing with the wet sound of your arousal as it slides in and out. It did feel pretty similar to the real thing, but nothing would ever compare to having Jisung above you, his muscles flexing, panting as he pumped into you. The thought of it made you clench around the toy. "Hannie.." you whimpered. You opened your eyes and looked at him. He had his eyes locked on your pussy, groaning as he pumped up and down on his cock. You watched him, feeling that familiar feeling in your tummy.

"You like watching me too, baby?" He asked. "I love watching you. You’re so beautiful. So sexy. So- ugh- fucking perfect." He moaned.

You tightened more at the praise. "Hannie.. gonna cum." You tell him.

"Me too, angel." He moaned. "Cum for me. Please, baby. You going to squirt, like last time? Please? Close your eyes and picture me." You did as he said, conjuring the same image as before. Him above you, covered in a light sheen of sweat as he fucked into you. "I can practically feel you around me, baby. So tight and warm. I love your little cunt. Such a good good girl, letting me watch you like this. You going to cum for me angel? Please cum for me."

His words pushed you over the edge. You pushed down on the toy one last time before lifting up until it was completely out of you as your orgasm hit. Your cum came flooding out of you, a few drops shooting toward your phone, the rest pooling on the floor. You legs were trembling as you moaned his name over and over. Your vision was blurry, your arms giving out. You slumped to the floor, your butt in the mess you made, your back against the bed. You panted and mumbled incoherent ‘thank you’s as you recovered from your high.

"Shit, baby girl."

You opened your eyes to see that he had finished also. He had pulled his shirt up, and his cum now covered his muscled abdomen. He leaned out of frame for a moment and returned with a tissue in his hand, cleaning himself up. "Are you okay, baby?" He asked. "You came really hard. Made such a mess." He was grinning like an idiot as he looked at your fucked out frame slumped against the bed. "I was worried you were going to fall over and I wouldn’t be there to help you. Maybe next time, we try a less dangerous position." He chuckled.

"I’m good. So so good." You tell him. You move to stand, grabbing for the towel.

"Careful baby. Don’t slip." Han watches you as you use the towel to clean up your mess, your cheeks red.

"I’m still embarrassed that I do that sometimes." You confess.

"Embarrassed about what? That you squirt sometimes?" He asks. You nod, unable to look at him. You pick up the phone and head to the bathroom. "There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, honey. I think it’s so sexy."

"Really?" You ask.

"I promise. I wish I was there to have felt it around my cock and on my legs." You blushed even further. He laughed. "You’re so sweet. I wish I could hug you and make sure you know how amazing you are."

You used the restroom quickly and headed to bed. "I love you, hannie." You said quietly into the phone, sliding under the covers.

"I love you too." He replies, kissing the phone a few times in quick succession.

You giggled at him and said, "Now tell me how tour is going."

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #stray kids han #han jisung #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #han stray kids #hyunjins orange slice too #han jisung stray kids #stray kids han jisung

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