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verstappwn · 4 months ago

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Je Spreekt Nederlands?

prompt: reader goes to the netherlands to meet her boyfriend’s family for the first time, showing off her dutch language’s skills, catching max really off guard.

warnings: explicit sex, +18, swearing, p in v, doggy style, fem! oral, unprotected, degrading words.

The droplets of water were flowing freely down the car window as the Netherlands’ skies raged above the city. It wasn’t the prettiest of days as you and your boyfriend, Max, traveled down the streets towards his childhood home, the day seemed to almost match your mood as you two stopped by the porch of Max’s old place. A nice house with a big garden and wooden ceilings was the sight you were greeted with as your boyfriend killed the engine and stared at you.

“Did you bring enough coats?”, Max kindly asks, furrowing his brows, causing small worry wrinkles to turn up around his icy blue eyes, “You’re trembling. I told you how het Nederland were around this time of the year and you didn’t-”

You cut him short after he starts rambling and worrying about the apparent reason for your shaking hands. “Max. I’m not cold”, you say in small pauses, reaching out to touch his hand, “I’m nervous”. Max’s brain seems to short-circuit. Your words making his brows furrow even further and his eyes narrow. “Nervous?”, he repeats, testing the words in his tongue, “You’re nervous about… meeting my parents?”. The thought of you being anxious seems unbelievable to him, the woman in front of him is the physical representation of calm and collected, and on top of that, the sweetest, kindest and most perfect woman in this world, that is on his eyes. You can’t be nervous, if you’re nervous then he should be sweating.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you bite back, nervous, fidgeting with your fingers as the rain seems to calm for a bit, making your exit off the car even more eminent. Max tilts his head “Schatje”, he calls softly, reaching for your face and cupping your cheek “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s my mom and my sister’s family, it’s just us”, he tilts your head so you’re looking at him, “And they’re gonna love you, baby. Just like I do”, Max leans forward and plants a gentle kiss to your lips, his fingertips brushing and caressing softly at your cheek, “Okay? I love you,” he repeats, pausing his words as if to convey their intensity.

You let out a deep breath, sighing after the kiss as you open your eyes and are met with your boyfriend’s kind blue eyes. “Okay”, you say softly, caressing his calloused hand, “Love you too”.

He squeezes your hand, stepping out of the car and rushing through the rain to get to the passenger side, suitcase in hand. He opens the door for you and intertwines your fingers with his free hand. “It’s gonna be okay,” Max smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Max knocked on the door, a smile on his face as he waited for it to open, his hand firmly holding yours to calm you down. “Kom eraan!”, (coming!) a female voice called out in Dutch, the door opening to show the face of a kind middle-aged woman with dark hair, “Max! Hoi, mijn liefste”, (hi, my dear) she said with a kind smile, pulling your boyfriend in for a hug, “Hoe gaat het?”, (how are you?), Max smiles at his mom and simply shrugs, placing a small kiss to her cheek as if to call her attention. Max’s mom turns to find your shy face at his side, “Oh! And you must be the girlfriend! I’m Sophie, Max’s mom,” Sophie pulls you in for a small hug, a smile on her face.

“Leuk je te ontmoeten, Sophie”, (nice to meet you, Sophie) you whisper softly, quietly, fidgeting with your fingers as your gaze falls to the porch’s floor.

Max’s jaw drops, his blonde brows furrowing as he stares at you, hearing the words in his language flowing out of your mouth, effortlessly. Sophie opens a warm smile, gasping. “Oh Max! She speaks Dutch!”, she exclaims excitedly, “Oh this is wonderful,”. You smile softly, shifting uncomfortably under her excited gaze, Max’s hand moving to sooth your lower back as he chuckles dry, “Yeah, wonderful”.

Max watches as you chatted with his mom and sister, a bright smile on your face as you let yourself get loose around them; his language flowing off your tongue as if it was just a normal Tuesday for you. Not for him. Max had to go upstairs and take out his skinny jeans to cover what hearing your voice in that sultry Dutch, did to him, and putting on a pair of loose pants.

Victoria’s kids were already put to bed by her husband Tom, as the four of you sat around the kitchen island, sipping some red wine while they got to know you better. You had quickly realized just how alike Max was to his sister and how he inherited his kind manners from his mom, laughing about childhood stories they would tell you about your boyfriend. You giggled at a particularly adorable one about him being mad at the SIM as a kid and turned around to look at him. But he wasn’t laughing. He was staring at you, face pinker than usual and fists clenched, but you simply ignored.

Max stared at you as you talked with the two women, his jaw clenched as he crossed his legs, trying to fix the bulge showing through his pants. He pictured you whispering in Dutch on his ear on that same sultry tone, your hands tracing his torso with your fingertips, pressing wet, languid kisses down his stomach till the waistband of his pants-

“Denk dat we wat moeten rusten,” (Think we should get some rest) Max announced after a while, his voice hoarse and his brows furrowed. You frowned at him, “Maar het is nog vroeg,” (But it’s still early) you whined softly, his sister and mom agreeing. “Schatje. Let’s go,” he said through his teeth, his jaw clenched and tone firm in a way that left no room for discussion.

You stood up from the island stools and scratched the back of your neck, “Goeinacht,” (G’night) you said with a soft smile at Victoria and Sophie who smiled back and waved goodnight to you and Max while you two made your way up the stairs. It was still fairly early, about 9 PM, so you truly didn’t understand why your boyfriend was pulling you up towards the guest room claiming you two needed rest when you spent a long time sleeping at his jet on the way here.

“What’s going on?” you ask with furrowed brows as you step into the bedroom, closing the door you move to stare at your boyfriend’s eyes, palms on his chest and worried eyes. “Nothing, liefje”, he kisses your forehead with a softer smile, though you can see how his pupils are darker, “I’m gonna go take a shower, okay? Why don’t you get ready for bed, huh?”.

Then he turns around on his heels and moves towards the suite’s bathroom, sliding the door shut. You furrow your brows further, not understanding his strange behavior, things had gone well with his family, right? They appeared to have approved of you and you absolutely adored both his sister and mom, so what seemed to be the issue?

You simply shrugged and put on one of Max’s shirts and a pair of shorts, not bothering with actual pajamas as you sat on the small couch on the corner of the room, deciding to read for a bit. Getting immersed in your book, you almost didn’t notice when Max came back to the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and hair messy and wet from the shower, he sat behind you and you froze as his chest pressed against your back. “Jij spreekt Nederlands nu, schatje?”, (You speak Dutch now, love?) he mumbled in your ear, his arms circling around you and taking the book off your hands.

He trailed his fingers up and down your arms, making your breath hitch and you felt something hard against your back, Max started planting small kisses alongside your neck and shoulder. “See what you do to me, schat?”, he mumbled against your pressure point, “Baby, are you trying to drive crazy speaking my language to my mom and sister like that?”, his tongue trailed the path of your ear lobe down to the point where your neck and shoulder met and you let out a gasp, “I had to go to the bathroom fix myself so many times, baby. So many…”

Max started pressing wet kisses on your throat, tilting your head back so it was pressed against his shoulder, giving him access to it. Hickeys started forming on your skin as you panted against him, his mouth working on sucking and kissing you as precisely as he could, knowing your body like the back of his hand. “Ik maakt je gek?��, (I’m making you crazy?) you mumbled, your voice cracked with need as you felt heat pooling down your stomach, closing your thighs.

Max moaned against your skin and you clenched your thighs harder as you felt yourself growing wet for him, “Ah schatje, yeah. Just like that. Keeping talking Dutch to me”, he pulled your shirt up, nothing underneath as he leaned down to suck on your collarbone, “Can't touch you like I want this way”, he groaned under his breath, motioning to the fact you two were still on the couch, “How am I gonna show you just how much I value you speaking my language when I can’t even suck you like the good girl you are?”

He smirked and chuckled as he heard you gasp and whimper, covering your mouth with his palm and squeezing your cheeks. He took you by the waist and stood up, throwing you over his shoulder and moving towards the bed, “Gonna have to keep quiet, you know?”, he said in a dark whisper, hovering over you as he threw you in bed, “Do you want my mama en zus to stop thinking you’re an innocent little thing and know how much of a slut you are for me?”, he laughed as you whimpered, his hand going back to covering your mouth.

He stood back and let the towel fall of his waist, watching you gulp. No matter how many times you saw him bare or had sex with him, it always made you stop and drool over him. Max was simply lovely to say the least. “Max, please—,” you whimpered as he took his time taking your sleep shorts out. Max stopped, clicking his tongue, “Ah ah ah ah”, he smirked, “Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me? You speak my language then,” he ordered, his fingers tracing the waistband of the last article of clothing you were wearing.

“Ah, fuck”, were the words that came out of your mouth as your breathing got more wrecked by the second, his tone ordering you to speak his language way hotter than you could’ve anticipated, “Alsjeblieft”, (Please) you whined, biting your lip, “Max, alsjeblieft”. The Dutchman smiled, leaning in to press a languid kiss to your lips, “Good girl”, he said before tugging your panties and shorts down in a swift movement.

You moaned as he pressed a finger against your folds, squirming as he groaned at your wetness, “Baby. You’re so wet for me”, he smiled, pressing kisses to your inner thighs as he knelt on the floor, pulling you by the waist so your legs were hanging over the edge of the bed, “Cover your mouth, pretty”, he mumbled against the skin of your inner thighs, “I’ll stop if I hear a sound, understand me?”

You nodded desperately, your head moving up and down frantically, “Yes, yes, I under—”, you cut yourself mid sentence as you’re met with Max’s disapproving gaze, him clicking his tongue and narrowing his eyes, you quickly go back to Dutch, “Ja, ik begrijp”, (Yes, I understand) you whimper, holding onto his hair as he presses a long kiss to your lower stomach. “See? Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”, he tilts his head in a smirk, enjoying the look on your face, “Quiet, schatje”.

You almost don’t have the time to cover your mouth with your palm when you feel Max’s tongue stroke slowly across your folds. You moan loud against your hand, throwing you head back against the pillow as he moves his tongue to fuck you, your hips matching his movements as he moves in and out of your cunt. You whimper loud, holding onto his hair with the other hand as he moves out to suck on your clit, smirking as he looks up at the mess you are at his touches.

He feels your legs clench around his shoulders as he circles your clit mercilessly, your sensitive bud aching as you moan and feel yourself getting close, “Max, Max—”, you call, and you’re not even sure why you’re calling. But it feels like so much. So good. “I’m- I’m… ik ben dichtbij”, (I’m close) you moan, your hand clenching around your own cheeks as you try to keep your noises down, the knowledge his sister and mother are just downstairs, probably still chatting on the kitchen making your breathing hitch even more.

Max smirked against your wet pussy, his tongue going back to lapping in and out of your cunt while his nose pressed and rubbed against your clit, you let out a loud moan, whimpering as you felt yourself getting impossibly close, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”. And then he stoped. “No, no, no. Max, max, please”, you whined out loud, holding his hair and grinding against nothing as his face was already far away.

“Oh pretty”, he smirked, moving off the ground and hovering over you, “What did I say would happen if I heard a sound, huh?”, Max runs a tongue all over his glistening lips and chin, looking down at you. You whimper at him, your eyes glossy as you’re kept on the edge, “Is this what you want, baby? For my mama and Vic to hear your desperate little noises for me?”, he clicks his tongue, “Can’t have that happen,”.

“Max, but—,” you try to argue, and he slaps the side of your thigh, almost at your ass cheek, the sound echoing through the room quieter than usually since Max was actually serious about being quiet. You whimper and gasp at it, the pain making you even needier for him as you cover your mouth to prevent a moan from escaping. “Jij spreekt Nederlands tegen mij, hoor je mij?,” (You speak Dutch to me, understand?) he groans against you, his hips grinding and driving you crazy as your eyes roll back to your head. “Ja, ja”, (yes, yes) you mumble without any strength, panting.

“Goed meisje,” (good girl) he says before thrusting into you all at once. You cover your mouth with both of your hands as a scream almost breaks out of your throat, “Oh fuck, you feel so good, schatje”, Max groans, pounding in and out of you with no hesitation, he holds your shoulder with his hand, trying to keep you from hitting your head on the headboard with the strength of his thrusts, “Speak. Say something in Dutch,” he groans, his hand flying to your neck as he moves almost all out and then back in.

Your eyes widen and you cry out his name, covering your mouth as you squeeze your cheeks to keep you from screaming. His cock stretching you out so much it feels like you’re being torn apart in two. “V-vertragen,” (slow down) you whimper shakily underneath him, but his pace doesn’t falter for a second. “Kleur?” (colour?) Max asks, his cock hitting every spot perfectly, including the sweet one that makes you see stars. “Groente,” (green) you let out in a breath.

Max stops and you cry out again. “Turn around,” he says, stroking his cock as he waits for you to get on hands and knees. Shakily, you do as he says, your face against the mattress and ass up and you whine desperately, “Would you look at that. A proper slut and asking me to slow down,” he groans before pounding in again, his pace even harder and faster than before as Max watches in awe his cock disappear inside of your cunt. Your face is on the mattress, drooling down the sheets as Max thrusts in and out, hitting you perfectly in every spot to have you crying in pleasure.

You bite down the white sheets, trying to muffle your sounds as you start panting a getting close again. Max leans down, his chests against your back as he pulls at your hair, making you gasp and he slaps your ass again, a cry leaving your throat, “Quiet,” he groans through his teeth before pulling you towards his chest so that you’re both kneeling on the bed, him pounding from behind as he wraps a hand on your mouth, squeezing and holding you still and quiet.

With Max’s palm against your lips as you pant and moan under his thrusts, he moves on to a deeper pace, his cock barely moving out of you before he’s in again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel his sweaty chest against your back, “Schatje, I’m gonna cum”, he groans quietly against your ear, trying to hold back his noises as his grip on your mouth grows stronger and bite down his palm, receiving a hiss in response, “You’re close too, aren’t you?”, he pants, his lips finding your neck and shoulder as his thrusts become erratic, “I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth, and you’re gonna tell me just how much you want me to let you come in Dutch, understand?”, he asks through his teeth, “Nod, baby”.

You nod desperately before he takes out his hand off your lips, now covered in drool and red from your bites, “Ik ga klaarkomen, Max”, (I’m gonna cum, Max) you whimper, bitting down your lips to keep yourself from making louder noises, “Alsjeblieft. Laat me klaarkomen,” (Please. Please let me cum).

Max smirks at you, his movements growing sloppier by the second, “Oh, look at you, my baby”, he kisses your neck wet, “Biting your lips and trying to keep quiet for me, so good”, he praises, receiving a loud moan from you in response, which is quickly muffled by his hand, “Such a good girl for me, schatje. You can come”.

The sounds of your bodies moving are wet and obscene as Max’s words make your whole body clench and tighten, right on the edge. You pant against his hand, crying out as your body almost convulses in pleasure. Max follows behind, biting down your shoulder as he comes hard, his movements slowing down as you two ride the waves of your orgasm. Max’s hand falls off your mouth as you two pant against one another, both going limp and boneless against the bed, him under you as you come back down to Earth.

“Since when do you speak Dutch?”, Max pants, caressing your hair. You simply chuckle breathlessly, head resting on his chest, “I don’t know. Since before we met, why? You don’t like it?,” you ask in a soft giggle, propping yourself to your elbows to stare at him.

Max let’s out a laugh, caressing your cheek carefully before kissing you softly as his tongue tangles with yours in a deep, loving kiss, pulling back to press your foreheads together and nuzzle your nose on his, “Schatje, do I need to do all this again for you to see what it did to me?”.

#max verstappen #formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula one imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #smut

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cheriladycl01 · 7 months ago

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Kinktober 11/10/2024 Oscar Piastri- Somnophilia

Plot: You and Oscar never have linked up sleep schedules so you’re often asleep when he comes home. And he just needs you so desperately…

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, Somnophilia, p in v, sex while asleep, 18+ Minors DNI

You and Oscar never had linked up sleep schedules, it was awful. If you had jobs to do at home over a race weekend especially one out of your time zone Oscar would be coming home at 3am, when you were already asleep.

After Australia, Japan and China all being together and him not coming back to the UK and you being incredibly busy not being able to go to him. He was getting home at 3am, yet he wasn’t tired making the mistake of sleeping on his flight home from exhaustion from the race.

You were lying in bed, duvet torn off of you face smushed into the pillow, turned to the side. You had one leg cocked up and the other straight. Oscar walking quietly into the bedroom seeing this sight had him even more awake.

He gently placed his suitcase down not wanting to wake you up.

You were wearing the sleepwear that he found the sexiest and it was like you’d done that on purpose. It wasn’t anything skimpy like silk or lacy. It was a pair of white underwear that rested on your hips showing off your figure deliciously. And then a low cut cropped hoodie.

Everything just looked so … he couldn’t even describe it! But he wanted you so badly. It had been over three weeks since he’d gotten any kind of intimacy with you. You’d both had an unforgettable night before he’d left but since then you’d both been far to busy to relieve yourself.

Now that he was here with you, seeing you looking so soft and fuckable he couldn’t help himself when he felt himself strain against his tightening jeans.

He couldn’t help the way he stood onto next to you, running his hand down the drive of your spine before running down the outline of the underwear from your hip to your bum.

You’d both spoken about doing this before but you’d never actually got round to it, as you normally tried to force yourself to stay up to wait for him to come home or he’d be too exhausted to do anything by the time he was there.

But now was the perfect time, you were laying there all innocent and unassuming. This was his moment.

He took his jeans off, not wanting to make you wake up from him trying to awkwardly shuffle his jeans off when he was weighing down the bed and moving the mattress.

He takes both jeans and boxers off discarding them on the floor before climbing up into the bed behind you. He holds your hips testing the waters by rubbing his hands up and down a bit rougher before gripping either side, moving you so you were more on your stomach. As he straddled you, his hands grazed over your underwear on your lower back, giving it a testing snap, but you only stirred in the way Oscar was used to you stirring, one that he knew you wouldn’t wake from easily.

Through the fabric of your panties he gives a testing rub of your clit, and almost as if you knew he was there in your sleep and you knew what he wanted your hips arched in a way that gave him easier access. He get rubbing until he could feel a wet patch of your slick form through the white panties you were wearing. If only you were wearing grey right now and it was more visible, he’d be a different animal.

Little soft sight and whines came from you in your sleep, until you called him name.

“Oscar” you moaned and he stopped thinking he’d woken you up but all he saw when he looked at your face against the pillow was a small furrow in your brows and your lips slightly parted.

“That’s it baby” he whispers softly.

He goes back to rubbing your clit until you roll a little bit, shaking in your sleep. He pulls away, knowing that an orgasm would most likely wake you up and he wanted to be inside you when that happened.

Pulling the underwear to the side and pulling your hips up a tiny little bit, he slips into your wetness. The sound was ludicrous, but he had to bite his lip to hold back his own moan as he bottomed out in you, your walls already clamping down on the unexpected intrusion.

He keeps a nice grip on your hips starting to thrust in and out, very softly that at one point it felt so good he had to bring his own hand up to cover his mouth as he let out his own grunt. He kept it up there for a while until he started to get needier and rougher to reach his high.

His hands had an incredibly strong grip on your lips and he’d lifted you up further to get a better angle in the relaxed doggy style he currently had you in.

“Argh fuck” he slipped up. And that when your mind started to wake up, you thought it was just an incredible dream you were having about your boyfriend. But as you started to come too, the feeling of something pushing in and out of you became far to realistic.

The feeling washed over you like a ton of bricks and you moaned at the feeling.

“Oscar?” You half moan, half question as you try look round, seeing your boyfriend behind you, thrusting in and out.

“Oh fuck, Osc. Missed you so fucking much. Fuck please baby” you cry as his thrusts get quicker knowing now your awake. He hits one spot that has you clamping tight around him, your hands fisting into the sheet and pillow as you moan out his name once more.

He shortly follows, hips stuttering into you before collapsing next to you, tucking you Into his embrace holding you close to him as he lets a breath out.

“Welcome home” you mutter sleepily as he kisses your head.

“I want to come home like this always” he sighs.

Taglist:

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daughterwifed · 6 months ago

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SOFTER, SOFTEST !

ft. curly x fem!reader

tags. piv, body worship sort of, rimming, big dick, tit job for like 2 seconds, creampie, size kink, scent kink, balls…

note. hai.. will get back to leon soon and I think mw fandom is lacking noncon and incest fics severely.. so i will get on that with jimmy. don’t know how to characterise him yet so ooc .. just infatuated with his breasts tbh i don’t know anything works in this universe LMFAO like idk just take this with a grain of salt.. please ignore typos !! unedited :3

You miss Curly.

You miss him more than you did yesterday, more than an idiot misses the point, like a dick misses a wet pussy–You just miss him.

It has been four months. Twenty-one weeks. One-hundred and forty days. Three-thousand, five-hundred and twenty hours. Too many minutes, a hell of a lot more seconds, the closer he gets the further he seems to be.

Big numbers make it feel like you’re getting nowhere so you cut those twenty-fours into one day. One day and he’ll be home. One day and you’ll be in bed with his stomach crushed against yours, the warmth of his flesh searing yours, fucking him into next year, until he loses his halo.

Videos aren’t enough, photos don’t do him justice, toys don’t live up to the feel of a real dick. You miss that face he makes when he cums - it’s a block away from his crying face. You miss him face down, ass up, punching holes into his dignity one thrust at a time. God, you miss that dick, how he goes red all over, him in nothing but that stupid fucking smile.

One day, you tell yourself in the mirror that morning. One day, you tell yourself when you take your lunch break. One day, one more microwaved meal for one, one more lonely night.

It used to be a big deal, you think. The whole going to space thing. Curly says it’s no big deal, but you’re pretty sure that in your great-grandpa’s heyday it was impressive. You’ve seen videos of hoards gathering to watch a ship take off, to greet crews when they landed. Today, it’s you and a plump, older woman in her bathrobe waiting in the cold.

You could spot him in any crowd, glowing like a ray of light, mostly because he’s tall, partly because everything fades into abstraction when you notice how tight his uniform is. Good god. Did he get bigger? You’re starting to sweat, it’s hard to focus when your boyfriend is making a long-sleeved jumpsuit look naughty.

Curly’s hair is a little longer, blond curls licking the nape of his neck, falling onto his forehead, his eyes are so bright and his smile is white. He looks like a policeman’s emotional support dog. A really busty support dog. He scans the sad scattering of friends, family and drivers. You’re so taken off guard by the sight of his buttons popping you almost forget to wave at him.

He beams when you spot him, suitcase dragging behind him as he jogs over. Everything is in slow motion. Like that old movie - Baywatch. He’s so excited to see you, taking you into his big arms, shoving your face in his chest like he knows just where you’d like to be. You’re disappointed in your lungs when they beg for air, lifting your head and placing it on his shoulder instead. He smells like sweat, hotel shampoo and something metallic.

“Oh.” You open your eyes and spot Jimmy skulking behind him, an unlit cigarette between his lips. You narrow your eyes at him, and Jimmy does the same. Real shady guy, the type you’d cross the street to avoid. He’s always trailing after Curly like a bad omen. “He can’t come home with us, honey,” you tell him gently, not wanting to sound like a bitch.

Which you are.

You don’t want him smoking in your car, you don’t want Curly to invite him over for takeout because that means it’ll go on for hours and you won’t get your mouth on his big, stupid dick for another day.

“Hm? Why not?” Curly asks, pressing a kiss into your hairline, the tip of his nose bumping yours tenderly.

“I don’t have space in my car for both of you and the luggage, she’s small. What if she tips over? You’re heavy enough as it is.” You smile at him, cheekily, giving his newfound hips a squeeze. They’ve always been there, but now they’re like wow. It’s only been four months, is he on steroids? Did he get pregnant? He is glowing… God knows what’s up there in the atmosphere, some cosmic horror waiting to knock up your poor boyfriend.

Curly shrugs, offering an apologetic smile to his friend. “You heard the lady.”

Jimmy’s permanent scowl seems to deepen, cementing itself in his dermal layer. “Whatever, man.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, shoulders slumped as he makes a beeline for the phonebox.

He lifts his suitcase and loads it into your car and you watch his biceps flex. You see through his clothes, you remember every freckle on his back, mapping them out like stars, leading to those dimples low on his back, the perfect resting spot for your thumbs when you grab his ass. His body is so convenient. Like he was made to be fucked every which way.

“I missed you, I thought about you everyday,” he says against your lips, leaning in to kiss you over the gearshift. “I put your picture in the cockpit actually, Jim didn’t like it, but it kept me going.”

Always so earnest. You almost feel bad for missing his body more than him.

“Aww, Curly, honey,” you coo, pinching his cheek and cupping the other, “I missed you even more.” He nuzzles into your hand, eyes closed as you comb your fingers through his messy hair.

As much as you would like to indulge his sentimentality, you have no patience to spare. If you sit here any longer, you’re going to soak through your jeans and onto your leather seat.

You put the car in drive—

“Captain? Open up!” There’s a younger man knocking on the window, leaving his grubby handprints behind. “I wanted you to meet my mom!” His voice is muffled through the glass.

You lock the windows.

“Did you lock the windows?” Curly asks, lips downturned like he’s about to pout.

You unlock the windows.

“Of course not, baby.” You pat his head and grit your teeth.

They talk for fifteen whole minutes.

Thank you for taking care of him, he can be such a handful—Oh no, not at all, he was a joy to have—I’m glad he came back in one piece—He’s a good kid—Oh, I don’t know about that—Mooom—I’d be happy to have him back for our next long haul—Seriously, Captain?—

You squirm in place, shifting from side to side, thighs pressed together as your panties stick to your core. When Curly introduces you to his crew mate, you offer a strained smile and nothing more.

The window whirs shut. You make it home in record breaking time with four tickets and only a few points taken off your license. It doesn’t matter. You’re home, inside with the curtains drawn and Curly still has clothes on.

That’s not right.

“Take it off.”

“Huh?” Curly pushes his luggage into the corner, the top few buttons of his jumpsuit have come undone and you see the tuft of blond hair on his chest.

“Take it off, please?”

“My clothes?”

“No, your wig, baby.”

He laughs, good-natured, mild-mannered, and so fucking hot.

If he won’t do it then you will.

“I haven’t even showered—“ He starts, but you shush him with a kiss, murmuring a ‘good’ against his pink mouth.

When you part, spit keeps your lips connected, the string of fate or whatever. You go in for another, hands fisting the fabric of his collar, forcing him down towards you. Curly lets out a keening noise somewhere in the back of his throat like a dog scratching at the bathroom door.

“I know, my baby, I’ll give it to you.” You pout at him, thumbing his kiss-swollen lips and watching his eyes droop. “Oh no…” The buttons on his uniform when you try to open them.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of his own spit, “cheap stuff.”

“I know, but you looked so good in it.” It’s a shame, but you need to see him bare, sweat as his only accessory.

“You think?” He near bats his lashes at you, stepping out of his uniform, and you swoon.

“God, yeah.” You push him down on the couch, Curly falls back with a soft grunt. It’s not very big, especially for a man of his size, but it’ll do for now.

His cock swells in his boxers, you feel it beneath you as you sit atop him, admiring the view below. The wide expanse of his chest, the sweat pooling in his collarbones, those tits. You don’t know what else they could be.

“Wow.” You take a handful of his chest, plucking his puffy pink nipple. “Look at these, I might have some competition.”

“Shut it,” he huffs out a laugh through his nose, and the tips of ears redden.

“I’m serious, baby, you’re, like, huge.” You can’t tear your eyes away from his soft flesh, moulding beneath your fingertips like dough, you could fuck them if you really wanted. “What happened out there?”

“Had a lot of spare time, I guess.” Curly smiles sheepishly, expression contorting when you bend your neck to suck his nipple into your mouth with a wet pop! His jaw slackens, and his cock jumps like it’s been given quite the fright.

You only have one complaint. His tan lines have faded. Floating through the galaxy for months on end can do that to you. You miss them, but you missed Curly more, so you’ll make do with what you have.

And you have more than enough. More than you can handle really. You can’t even get a grasp on his bicep, he’s stupidly big and your hand is on the smaller side.

You shift backwards, wet cunt dragging over his impossibly big bulge where only his underwear keeps you from him - you kind of admire your pussy for being able to take it. Your mouth moves on, hands still groping as much as you can of his chest as you lick the ridges of his stomach, it’s like he’s forged out of marble.

Softly, Curly rubs the back of your head, trying his very best to keep his eyes on you and not let them fall shut. You feel his stomach muscles rippling under your tongue. They contract when you trace around his navel, placing a sloppy kiss just below it, where a patch of curly hair leads to his wet cock.

His cock is drooling through the white fabric of his boxers, they’re soaked enough to be see-through, you spot the fat, pink head that has been missing your kisses. “You’re so wet, baby, is it all for me?”

With a pitiful noise, he tosses his head back and nods sadly. It’s funny to hear a man of his stature whine, but it suits Curly so well.

Your fingers hook in the waistband, tugging his underwear downwards until his fat cock springs out, it’s so fucking fat it weighs itself down. The leaky head twitches, pre dripping down his thick shaft, leaving a moonlit trail to his heavy balls. So full of seed they might burst.

“Oh… Poor baby.” You give them a gentle squeeze, and Curly’s eyes roll back into his skull, hips jolting upwards.

The urge to take it into your mouth right then and there is tempting, you hold back, you want to take your time with him. Make him feel special. You seat yourself between his thighs, one leg thrown over your shoulder so it’s easier to fit on the sofa. Your thumb runs along his pink slit, dribbling out pearly strands of pre that web between your fingers. Curly whimpers, biting down on his fist.

“These are cute.” You take note of his meaty thighs, how they’ve only gotten bigger, a comfier place to sit. The stretch marks don’t go unnoticed, streaking purple and pink along the milky flesh of his inner thighs like faded brushstrokes.

“Mmmph.” He blinks at you, pouty, lashes wet with impatient tears.

“Yeah, mmmph, I know, baby, be patient.” You’re a big, fat hypocrite.

His scent is stronger down here, clean and soapy, but the tang of sweat prospers, and the underlying smell of him. The smell of his pillow, the smell of his few-days old clothes, the smell of his towel after he works out.

A few more kisses here and there, using the flat of your tongue to lave over strips of his sinewy skin, leaving him spit-slicked and breathless and flushed. You hoist his other leg over your shoulder, he’s heavy, but you’re horny and it’s given you a sudden burst of vitality.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, gripping the top of the couch, one arm over his face as you lick up the seam of his balls, mouth latching to the swollen underside, where they feel heaviest.

Curly’s cock leaks into your hair, the weight brings it down to rest on your face, tip pressed into your hairline, dripping down the bridge of your nose like sweat while you make a mess of his balls. Stuffing them into your mouth one at a time, using your hand to give the lonelier one a squeeze when your lips are kissing up on another.

The kiss to his perineum is enough to make him moan. Curly knows what’s coming. You go lower, nose nestled into his balls, breathing him while your hands spread his ass cheeks apart to get to the spot you love most.

Curly’s hole is darker than the rest of him, not quite pink like his cock, ruddier. He’s tight and he smells good. So good. You’ve never minded the hair, you think it’s pretty cute. Curtains match the drapes.

Affectionately, you kiss his puffy rim, and it throbs.

He lets out a groan that is half mortified and half ready-to-blow-his-load.

“Sure,” Curly says, voice breaking as you circle his hole with the tip of your tongue. He tastes like him, musky and sweet and coppery. Curly is home and your tongue is in his ass where it belongs, wriggling its way past his pulsing rim, hopefully all the way up into his heart.

Your thumb and middle finger stretch to meet around the girth of his cock, stroking him slowly as you work open his asshole, tongue pushing back in when he pushes you out. Once you deem him wet enough, you push a single finger knuckle-deep and he cries out, hips bucking up off the couch.

Much to his dismay, which he shows in the form of a pained whimper, your hand leaves his cock to splay over his stomach and hold him down to the best of your abilities. “You have to stay still, honey.”

You feed a second finger into him, his hole squelching as you curl them inside of him. Curly clenches tight enough to cut off your blood circulation, sucking you back in when you ultimately pull them out with a lewd noise. He opens his mouth on instinct, pupils so blown out his light eyes seem dark, you push your fingers down his throat and he sucks.

“You’re so cute,” you mumble, watching him intently, he’s like a pin-up model of some sort. An X-rated action figure. “Taste good?”

“Not really,” Curly says. He’s so honest it makes you laugh. He shuffles back to rest his head on the arm of the couch, cock bobbing, still leaking like nobody’s business, leaving little droplets of wet in its wake.

It’s ready to burst, but you’re not done with him yet. You haven’t had your fill. When you spend half your time with your head between his thighs, you miss out on all the faces he pulls. So you spit on your tits to get them wet, his cock is slick enough, nothing should chafe when you squeeze his cock between them.

“Christ,” Curly grits out, brows knitting together, the second coming and he hasn’t even had his first.

“You wanna cum like this?” You ask, kneading your tits on either side of his cock, each time the tip pops up past your cleavage, it bumps your chin and leaves it slick.

“No…” He shakes his head, curls bouncing, sticking to his forehead, the hair near his nose is curlier with the added sweat. “Inside.”

“I can do that for you, babe.” You smile at him, acting like that wasn’t your plan in the first place, like you haven’t been dying for a warm creampie since he landed back on earth. You give the fat head of his dick one sloppy kiss, making sure to tongue his slit before you clamber on top of him.

It should be an easy task to get him inside, you’ve been wet for the last twenty-four hours, your pussy is throbbing like it’s got a heartbeat. Slick dries on your inner thighs and your clit is buzzing, a rush of arousal passes over you like a cold wave when you lift your hips to guide his dick into you.

Oh. Wow. That’s a stretch.

In theory, you know big Curly’s dick is. It’s a fucking horsecock, and you have eyes bigger than your stomach. You always overestimate yourself. You think you’re gonna be just fine, then his fat tip breaches your little hole, no matter how wet, and you lose it, scrambling to grasp his shoulders as your body is racked with shivers.

Curly’s kind enough to steady you, big hands finding purchase on your hips. His needy noises get through to you, and you push on, sliding down and taking him to the hilt. His dick curves upwards into your cervix, rubbing the fleshy opening as you adjust to his dick after four whole months of nothing worthwhile.

He’s so big. You’re so wet, slippery pussy slicking up his cock, and making things easier for the both of you.

“I love you.” Curly shudders, looking right into your eyes like he’s afraid to blink and miss a single thing.

“I love you too,” you tell him, eyes on his tits.

He’s so deep, feet planted on the couch as he fucks into you, unable to help himself. You get it. You’re tight, warm, and wet. Better than his fist. Your pussy is noisy, squelching each time you bottom you, grinding your clit into his pelvis, feeling his cock twitch each time you tighten around him. The plap of his balls hitting your ass when enough momentum is built up.

Curly’s helpful, when he sees you tense up, throwing your head back and rolling your hips over and over, you want him deeper and deeper, he wets his fingers with your slick and rubs figure eights into your clit.

It’s just enough to make your toes curl—Oh, who are you kidding? You near blackout when you cum, moaning so loud you scare yourself. You see black. Like someone’s drawn the curtains in your mind, ending the show. Your nails dig into his skin, but he’s always put up with that like a champ.

“Holy fuck.” Shaking still, you blink to clear your vision, you’ve wet his navel and his tummy and the couch might be ruined. You don’t even remember when he came inside you. What a shame. Feels good though, still warm. Sighing, you lay against his chest, Curly’s soft cock slips out of your hole, resting on his thigh. “Welcome home, Captain.”

#curly mouthwashing smut #curly smut #captain curly x reader #captain curly smut #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x you #mouthwashing smut #curly x reader #mouthwashing curly x reader

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autumnscribbles · 6 months ago

Text

truth part 2 | rc

pairing: bsf!rafe x reader

summary: rafe finds out about sofia’s betrayal, and tries to come back and apologize for his previous words

part 1

warnings: swearing, angst, unhappy ending lol

wc: 1.8k

a/n: thank you SO MUCH to everyone that showed love on the first part😭 i appreciate it so so so much!! i kept this one pretty angsty because i think we all wanted to see rafe not be forgiven! so it is open ended for a part 3 👀 if you guys wanna see it! lots of love 🫶🏻

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You were sitting on your wraparound balcony, book in your hand as you felt the sun warming your bare skin. It was another beautiful day out, and you wanted to take advantage. Your sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose as your eyes scanned the novel in front of you.

You were taken out of a trance when you heard a commotion going on nearby. It sounded like it was coming from the Cameron house, which sat next to yours. Sofia had been staying in it, so you've heard, despite Rafe being in Morocco. You placed your bookmark between the pages, setting it down before rising to your feet. You walked to the edge of the balcony, placing your hands on the railing to lean over it slightly.

You saw Sofia, walking outside with a suitcase dragging behind her. What was she doing? She went in and out a few times, each time returning with various different items that all must have belonged to her. You wanted to ask her what was going on, if it had anything to do with Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him since the fight you got into at his house, and he was gone now. In Morocco doing god knows what with the Pogues. You didn't care anymore.

A car pulled up in front of the intimidating large property, Sofia disappearing inside of it as it drove away. The house was empty now. The house you spent years walking over to, sleeping at, drinking at, now sat there vacant. Simple as that. Everyone gone. You reflected on how quickly things change, how easy it is for everything to fall apart so quickly. You had cried about your conversation with Rafe after it happened, but since that night you hadn't shed a tear. You loathed him for what he said to you, for blaming his own emotional damage on you. You had always supported him, been there for him even when he was a complete mess. Goes to show none of it mattered in the end, anyway. You didn't know when he would return, and you couldn't be bothered to try and find out.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Rafe busted through the front door of his house, being met with nothing but deafening silence. The air sat heavy around him. It was just...empty. Sofia had actually left. He knew he told her to, but he was hoping deep down that he had been wrong. Maybe she'd stay and tell him Groff was full of shit. Her absence was confirmation that you had been right all along. He accused you of lying, of jealousy, and now he was eating his words.

"Fuck!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the counter in front of him, dropping his head in his hands. Everything was ruined. His friendship with you, his relationship, the deal. Everything slipped through his fingers so quickly, he couldn't keep up.

He decided he needed to talk to you, to see you again. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed you. When he was in Morocco, all he could think of was you. He was too proud to admit that, though.

"Please be home," he muttered under his breath as he turned back around and out the front door.

He walked up to the entrance of your home, banging his fist on the door loudly. He continued repeatedly until you finally swung the door open.

Your eyes met his, fighting to hold back a gasp. You weren't sure you would ever see him again, and here he was. He looked anxious, his eyebrows furrowing and his gaze roaming all over the place. His fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly as he looked at the floor.

"You were right," he practically whispered, his stare remaining off of you.

"What was that?" you asked, cupping your hand to your ear. You heard him, you just wanted to hear him say it louder.

"I said you were right, okay? About Sofia," he admitted. "She took the money from Hollis and convinced me to take the deal. I kicked her out, we're done."

You had to admit the words were good to hear. You already knew you were right, but it felt good to hear him admit it. You were starting to wonder if the truth would ever come out, or if Sofia would just keep going on like everything was fine. Rafe almost never admitted when someone else was in the right. It wasn't that easy, though. He had a lot more to admit wrong than just not believing you. Sofia wasn't even the issue anymore.

"Great," you said sharply, starting to shut the door. He stuck his arm out, holding it open.

"I said you were right, y/n," he repeated. "I should have believed you."

"Good for you," you said dryly. "I told you not to come crying to me when she fucked you over. That remains true."

Rafe let out a long sigh, frustrated at how difficult you were being. In the past, a simple apology would make everything go back to normal. Clearly, that wasn't going to be how it goes this time. He knew you could be stubborn, and it drove him insane. His arm remained extended, stopping the door from shutting. He saw movement going on behind you, and craned his neck to get a better view.

"What's going on?" Topper asked, appearing behind you.

Topper had dropped by this morning to bring you breakfast. You hadn't asked him to. You think maybe he felt bad for you, pitied you. You were alone in a big house, your family gone. Rafe was gone. You didn't need his cheering up, though, you were perfectly happy on your own.

Being alone for so long allowed you to be comfortable and even content in your own presence. You liked the quiet mornings, the long walks, and never having to ask anyone for anything.

"You-," Rafe stuttered. "You're hanging out with Topper?"

"And?" you asked, your jaw set as you blankly stared at him.

"You don't even like Topper," he whispered harshly, leaning towards you.

"Says who?" you said. "You don't know me anymore, Rafe."

He scoffed and took a step back from the door. He took a deep breath before speaking, knowing that maybe he should think a little bit more before he speaks.

He wasn't wrong, you didn't like Topper. He was arrogant and honestly kind of a baby most of the time. He was always whining about Sarah, or John B and it was getting old. You had been spending too much time alone, though. You knew people were talking. People were always talking. Hanging out with Topper would put out a good word, and he'd tell people you're fine. Maybe then people would stop asking. There wasn't anything going on other than friendship, but you didn't mind the company here and there.

"Are you just trying to make me jealous?" Rafe asked, his eyes finally fully meeting yours, reaching you.

"Are you serious, Rafe? Again?" you asked. You took a step outside, pulling the door shut behind you. You didn't want him in your home, especially not with Topper there.

Topper probably thrived on the drama, probably couldn't wait to go run to the other kooks and tell them Rafe showed up at your door. That aside, you had to give him a piece of your mind at this point.

"I am serious, y/n!" he exclaimed.

"Rafe, when will it get through your brain that not every decision I make is about you?" you asked. "Are you seriously so selfish and self absorbed that you think every move I make has to do with you?"

Rafe's mouth stayed slightly agape, his feet pacing back and forth on your walkway. He ran his hands over his head, his jaw clenching. His brain was going a mile a minute, and he couldn't find the words anymore. He was overcome with emotions, unable to regulate them.

"Do you not remember what you said to me, Rafe?" you asked, your voice raising.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said. "I was an asshole, and I should have believed you about Sofia. I shouldn't have said those things."

"What did you say again?" you asked, taking a step closer to him, your head held high. You would not back down this time. You wouldn't let him get away with it.

You tapped your chin with your index finger, looking upwards acting like you were trying to remember his words. "Oh yeah, that all I do is fuck with your head? That I want attention? That I use you for my benefit? That I'm a jealous liar? I almost forgot."

Rafe went to speak, but you cut him off again, immediately.

"Oh and I almost forgot," you sneered, sarcasm dropping from your voice. "That all your problems are because of me?"

"Y/n," he breathed, taking a visibly deep breath.

"Don't even say anything, Rafe," you said, putting your hand up to stop him from speaking. "If I ruin your life so much, and mess with your head, I don't need to be part of it. I'll live my life, and you live yours. You can do whatever you want, I don't care."

"I care, y/n!" Rafe exclaimed. "I didn't mean those things I-I was just angry. You know I can say stupid shit when I get mad."

"You can't just say awful things and take them back," you explained. "That's not how this works. You don't get to hurt me and then show up at my door thinking I'll forgive you because you 'didn't mean it'."

“Y/n, please,” Rafe begs, his eyes turning glossy. “You have to forgive me, I need you in my life.”

“Clearly you don’t, Rafe,” you sneered. “You told me otherwise, actually.”

“You can’t do this to me!” he said angrily, his emotions brewing and threatening to spill over. He hated when he yelled at you, but he was so frustrated. “Don’t do this.”

You couldn’t ignore the twist in your heart at the tears in his eyes. Usually you would fold, but you were determined this time. He hurt you, more than he ever had. You couldn’t let him off that easily. You were doing fine without him.

“I have to go,” you said, looking back to your house looming behind you. “Bye Rafe.”

“Please,” he repeated, his voice barely over a whisper. You closed the door, leaving him standing alone on your front lawn, exactly as he had done to you.

You still hadn’t decided if revenge was the best medicine, but it was the only way for him to listen. To truly listen. If he really cared about you, he would come back with a real apology, not excuses.

Rafe stood wide eyed, staring blankly in front of him. He bit his lip, the back of his throat burning as he tried to hold back tears. He hadn’t meant for things to happen this way.

You were all he had, the only person who really cared about him, and who he cared about. Now you were gone, and it was all his fault.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

taglist: @evermorx89 @glenpowellswifee69 @xxbirkindoll2 (🫶🏻🫶🏻)

#rafe Cameron #rafe Cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx #obx imagine #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic

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lay-z · 27 days ago

Text

my lover's got humor

SYNOPSIS: Johnny takes you home to Glasgow to meet his family. Behind the door of his childhood bedroom, you make him see Heaven.

PAIRING: John 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!Reader

WARNINGS/INFO: 18+ | Johnny is catholic; established romantic relationship; blasphemy (?); smut; pegging; anilingus; body worship; fluff/aftercare; 6k wc

† BASED ON THIS †

Much thanks to @raspberryandechinacea and my 🦇 anon for putting ideas into my brain. 🤍 Also, Happy Easter (if you celebrate)!

“You’re unbelievable, MacTavish,” you call out over your shoulder, feigning annoyance though a permanent grin seems to be plastered on your lips nowadays.

“Aye, unbelievably handsome!” Johnny counters over the noise of the shower running before he goes back to singing some merry Scottish folksong at the top of his lungs while you exit the stuffy bathroom, wrapped up in a towel and drying your hair with a smaller one.

Even taking a hot shower didn’t stop that familiar soreness seeping into your muscles after that long hike Johnny has taken you on today, showing you (off) around his hometown and taking you to his favourite scenic viewpoints.

You didn’t expect to stay in the home where he grew up in for the remainder of your visit, but Johnny’s parents had insisted; not wanting either of you to spend any money on some expensive hotel or Airbnb when they have more than enough space to host you and their only son—especially considering you’re his girlfriend and the first woman he decided to introduce to the family.

It’s getting serious, even though it hasn’t even been half a year and yet—you could swear that John MacTavish is the one.

The realization of having found a true love—no matter how sappy the thought—leaves a giddy flutter in your stomach, one that spreads and blossoms into something warm and comforting in your chest, and suddenly, your steps seem a little lighter as you skip about in his old childhood bedroom to grab some clean clothes from your suitcase in the corner next to the desk—a desk he used to do his homework at after school, you muse.

Your eyes roam around the room as you slip into a fresh pair of panties and a comfortable sports bra, and they narrow when you catch sight of some pictures pinned to the corkboard above the desk; hidden behind pages ripped from sketchbooks and journals, fading concert tickets and an autograph signed by Biffy Clyro—a mosaic of Johnny’s fondest memories, it seems.

His tune changes to mimic an opera, rough baritone voice echoing off the bathroom walls, and you snort to yourself, shaking your head with a small smile as you approach the corkboard to inspect the pictures.

Some are Polaroid, some simply printed out on paper and heavily pixelated.

There’s one of him with a group of blokes, his Mohawk grown out, red plaited pants hanging low on narrow hips, black nail polish cracked on his ringed fingers—proof of his punk phase, and for a moment you wonder if your teenage self would’ve found him as attractive as your grown self finds him now, until your attention is caught by another picture.

Clearer and photographed properly—now a respectable soldier posing with two comrades around his age, they’re standing at attention, tall and proud, their chests puffed out underneath crisp dress uniforms. Birds without feathers, greenhorns who haven’t seen war yet.

Johnny’s eyes shine with raw determination to prove himself to his peers and superiors alike, to become the best of them all, though nowadays it feels like you’re rather catching the dangerous glint of a predator who knows exactly what he’s capable, which is as exciting as it is frightening sometimes.

As your fingers brush over the shiny picture, you notice another, much older one—Johnny as a teenage altar boy. Dark, shaggy hair curling over a pimpled forehead, wearing one of these typical white robes as he stands in a half-circle with three other boys in matching attire next to a lavish altar inside an ancient looking, pompous church.

You find more pictures of him and his family at church, receiving communion, at Easter mass, at one of his sisters’ weddings, his niece being baptized with him chosen as her chosen Godfather—

And you’re aware that Johnny was raised to be a proper boy and a good, religious man who fears nothing but God’s judgment—and perhaps his ma’s to some extent—but seeing the evidence of his deeply-rooted beliefs right here, pinned to the corkboard, gives you a whole new understanding of who John MacTavish truly is:

Namely, an incredibly loving and devoted man.

“Havin’ fun stalkin’ me?”

Your eyes widen with a surprised gasp; full body flinching when your boyfriend’s warm breath suddenly tickles along the side of your neck. His chuckles triumphantly after his umpteenth successful sneak attack.

“You’re so fucking mean,” you whine while his arms come up to wrap around your waist as he presses himself to your backside, all warm, damp and very much still naked from his shower.

“And you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days and then what? Huh?!” you snap, though your voice is lacking any bite when he nuzzles his face into your nape with another chuckle and a low hum of delight.

His bulky arms squeeze you harder. “I’d simply die, too,” he retorts causally, as if it’s the most reasonable and logical answer he could give. “We die together one day, hen.”

“How romantic,” you laugh humourlessly and pinch his tattooed forearm, though the thought leaves a strange heaviness in your chest and a bittersweet taste in the back of your throat that you force yourself to swallow. “I should punish you one of these days for always scaring me like a twonk.”

He huffs in amusement, completely unbothered. “Mhm, maybe ye should.”

When Johnny starts peppering kisses along the curve of your neck and shoulder, brawny hands now roaming over your bare curves and up, up, up to palm and knead your breasts through the fabric of your sports bra, you get an idea.

Glancing down at your open suitcase resting by your feet, you kiss your teeth in thought.

“What if I’d like to fuck your pretty arse again?”

That makes him tut. His lips hover right behind your earlobe, and you can practically feel his breath hitch as his chest expands against your back. There is a pause before he finds his voice again.

“Ye… brought it?” he asks, peeking over your shoulder, thick brows raised in a mix of surprise and precariousness.

“Uh-huh,” you hum matter-of-factly, already bending down to rummage and pick up the black leather harness with the nude-coloured dildo attached from your suitcase. It isn’t particularly long nor girthy, but the sight of it makes Johnny swallow, his throat clicking so hard, you can hear it.

“I’d love to try it again… if you’re up for it.”

Turning your face to gauge his reaction, you notice the tension in Johnny’s neck; thick tendons flexing as he considers your words, azure eyes flickering in thought as if he’s mentally diffusing a bomb.

“With much more prep this time,” you add, feigning coyness as you turn in his embrace to face him fully, hand reaching out to tilt his chin, so he meets your eyes. Your thumb brushes over dark stubble and the prominent scar below his bottom lip before you lean in conspiratorially, cooing: “I’ll even eat your ass.”

And you can practically watch his pupils dilate at once—a black hole swallowing the sky, a kitten locking in on its prey, bright blue irises making way for onyx pupils while his buff chest expands with a deep inhale.

“Eat me ass, hen? Now? ‘fore supper?” he asks breathlessly, one callous hand snatching your wrist as if he’s afraid you’re simply taking the piss before making a run for it. Oh, but he’d chase you.

Nodding gingerly, you twist your wrist out of his grasp with a soft snicker, pleased with his reaction.

“Yup,” you push at his chest, urging him to back up towards his bed—not as large as yours at home, but you’ve made do with him under worse circumstances, like having a quickie in the public restroom on his base right after you’d picked him up at the airfield. Back then, it’d been the first time he had to leave you for his job, and the reunion was rather passionate.

“It was way too rushed last time, and I’d barely put the tip in before you came all over yourself,” you reminisce, smiling adoringly when his face reddens and his eyes flit to avoid yours as he walks backwards.

“Was drunk an’ ye were wankin’ my cock,” he retorts apologetically. “Couldnae ‘ave stopped it if ah’d tried.”

You snort. “You were yowling like a cat in heat, baby. Begging me for more,” you remark, scratching your fingers through his coarse chest hair. “I fucking loved it.”

“Ach, feck off.” He pouts and his calves hit the frame of the bed with finality. “I wasnae worse than you, when I give it to ye good.” His chest puffs against your hand, but his words don’t manage to sound half as confident as he usually does when he’s blushing so furiously.

He licks his lips like a wolf licks its chaps, peering down at you as if he’s the one in charge right now. “Fine,” he growls, voice lowering to a husk. “How do ye want me?”

You huff a laugh through your nose, eyes crinkling and twinkling as you smile triumphantly.

“Pants off and on your back, MacTavish. Arms above your head.”

While Johnny seems surprised, he obeys without any further complaints, and you take off your bra again, keeping your panties on before slipping the strap-on harness over your wiggling hips; grabbing the lube and delicate cotton robe to leave on the mattress within reach as you join him on the bed between his nicely spread legs.

Last time you’d pegged him, it was in doggy—impersonal and unromantic. A crackpot idea after a date night out together. This time, you’re determined to make it more special.

His flushing chest is rising and falling slowly, head resting on a pillow from where he gazes up at you with defiance and awe—petulant at the way his cock is already semi-hard as it rests on his upper thigh. The thick vein running along the underside of his shaft pulses as it pumps blood steadily, turning his flesh dark and ruddy under sensitive foreskin while a pearl of clear precum beads at the mushroomy tip.

Drinking him in for another moment, this rugged Adonis in front of you, you make a vague gesture with your hand, clicking your tongue in disapproval. “I said arms up, MacTavish.

Johnny glances at your hands and his cock twitches. “Tyin’ me up, too?” You nod, grabbing the white rope. “Wha’? Afraid I’ll flip ye over?” He chortles at his own joke, eyes glinting with mischief.

A raised eyebrow is enough to make him comply and you lean over to tie his hands to the old bedpost, supple tits dangling and nipples tightening right in front of his face. But then your eyes catch the black rosary, gently swaying as the frame moves, wrapped around the upper post and you cannot help it but be taken aback momentarily.

Cheeky as ever, Johnny starts peppering kisses on whatever sliver of skin he can reach; up your sternum, between the valley of your enticing breasts before mouthing at the pillowy mounds, tongue dragging and lapping like a disobedient pup.

Perhaps you should feel guilty or even shame at what you’re about to do under the presence of the holy cross, but you don’t.

Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re not that religious, if at all.

It feels thrilling, knowing that you’re going to fuck this incredibly capable and gorgeous man—that he lets you debauch and unravel him wholly. You can feel your own arousal start to seep between your folds, slick and warm, soaking into your flimsy panties—add his mouth still suckling on your tit, trying to catch your nipple, and your hips twitch shallowly for friction.

His muscles flex and bunch in this stretched position once his wrists are bound with a nice knot; stormy blue doe-eyes blinking up at you, darkened with lust, all trusting—almost fragile. There’s a moment you wonder if anyone else has ever done this to him, aware how much of a whore he’s been before meeting you—a true soldier—and you can feel your throat close with a wave of gnarly jealousy.

You sit back on your haunches, admiring your work briefly, before catching sight of the rosary again while the harness cuts and pinches into your skin.

“Have you ever fucked anyone in this bed?” Your voice comes out more coolly than you wanted, snappy even, and you quickly fix your sudden attitude when his brows furrow into something apologetic.

Johnny kisses his teeth before shaking his head. “Nah, why? Ye jealous, hen?” He has the audacity to look smug as he tries to ease the tension. Always the bloody jokester.

You ponder with your hands on his upper thighs, caressing up and down his hairy legs, then:

“Thou shalt not lie,” you remark nonchalantly, watching the way his fully erect cock begins to leak onto his lower abdomen; pearly precum smearing into the coarse, black happy trail.

“… ‘s what you learned as a pretty altar boy, innit?”

The smugness is wiped off his face at once and he snorts to downplay his bashfulness, though the deepening red on his cheeks tells on him. You don’t really care if he’s lying or not—he’s yours now and that’s all what matters anyway.

“Aye…ah guess so,” he mutters, hips squirming as you reach for the fluffy pillow under his head; folding it before stuffing it under his lower back, lifting his ass to your liking while he lets you.

There’s a pause, but you feel his curious eyes on you, cogs turning in his clever brain. You nudge his knees, and they fall open limply; his feet rustle the sheets as he bends his legs, opening himself up to you obscenely while his cock keeps weeping sticky precum like a broken faucet, yearning to be stimulated.

“Why’r ye askin’?”

You lower yourself flat onto the mattress, going eye-level with his sex and getting a whiff of arousal, clean skin, woodsy body wash and a faint hint of his natural musk. His chest heaves and his breath hitches when you lean in to smother the inside of his muscular left thigh with open-mouthed kisses, nipping at pale skin and laving your flat tongue over the sting.

You glance up at him from between his thighs, and it’s such an innocent sight, your cheek resting against warm skin, that it’s enough to make his balls throb with pleasure.

“Because I am jealous, Johnny.” Your voice is so soft, your words so genuine, it almost feels like you’re giving confession, and Johnny’s throat bobs, mouth drying as he licks his lips.

“Why?”

Because you love him something fierce—but choose not to say it, not yet anyway, and you turn your face, hiding your smile as you bury it into the giving flesh of his upper thigh before sinking your teeth into fat and muscle, latching on with possessive greed. Your cheeks hollow at the created vacuum; tongue flicking over coarse leg hairs, and Johnny hisses when you pull back with a harsh tug; teeth grazing over sore, glistening skin where a mean bruise has formed.

Laying your claim on him like a madwoman while the thought of him being with someone else makes you nauseous if you think about it long enough.

Your lips skim up his thigh and you relish in the way his skin twitches with anticipation and his breath grows ragged while your right hand kneads one plump ass cheek, nails clawing into flexing muscle.

Johnny groans when your nose brushes the apex of his thigh. “Ye’re a terrible tease, luv.”

A wicked grin splits your lips. “Oh, but I’m being so nice to you, Johnny,” you peek up at him as you finally grasp his length, veins throbbing inside your palm as you pump the silky flesh. “Can you recite the Hail Mary for me? I’m a bit rusty when it comes to… prayers ‘n all that.”

Bright, glossy eyes flutter open in disbelief, and he lifts his head to look at you, both shock and curiosity whirring behind his hazy gaze, and then his eyes roll back shark-like, when you pull his foreskin back before dragging your tongue along his shaft.

“Bloody… mother of God,” he groans, head tipping back, tendons flexing in his neck while he bares his throat in surrender like a dog showing its belly. His bound hands ball into fists, unable to grab anything for leverage and his hips jerk desperately, chasing your tongue for more ministrations.

Grabbing his aching cock at the base, you watch some watery beads of his essence run down his shaft, coating and dripping over your curled fingers, and it’s almost mesmerizing as you slowly stroke him from root to tip while you watch his precum smear and slick up his ruddy flesh.

Johnny curses through clenched teeth, back arching and hips canting into your touch.

“Well?” you ask, right eyebrow quirking in a taunt while your hand stills on his cock.

His head stays tipped back, eyes falling shut in resignation while his hands unclench against the bindings. “Fuck,” he drags out under his breath. “Hail Mary ye said?”

There’s a tense pause, and he shifts his hips, heels digging into the mattress as he brackets you in. The rosary keeps swaying above him.

“Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed a-art–” He falters when you spit on his tip and start stroking again. “Start over.”

His throat bobs, he clears his throat, and you continue to pump his length languidly, when he obeys:

“Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus–f-fuck–!”

Your fist stays curled around the thick base of his shaft, his soft foreskin pulled taut to expose his angry-red cockhead while your tongue stops lapping at it, lips ceasing their suckling, when he stutters once more, words dissolving into a guttural groan.

“Again.”

It only gets worse when you descend down his parted thighs after another torturous moment; peppering open-mouthed, wet kisses on his balls, then teasing his smooth taint with your tongue before finally reaching his puckered hole, already drenched by a mix of his arousal and your saliva dripping down his ass crack when you start licking him, a pleased hum bubbling up in your throat while you continue to stroke his throbbing prick.

He’s breathing so raggedy and heavy, one might think he just ran a marathon in full tactical gear; beads of sweat gathering above his thick brows before trickling down his grimacing face, right over the pulsing vein in his temple.

“Ngh–fuck, fuck–Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God–Mother of G–fuck, I–I cannae–! Please!”

His cock twitches in your unrelenting grasp, balls drawing up tight again as you continue to edge him towards his release only to stop whenever he messes up his prayer again.

“Ah cannae do it,” Johnny whines hoarsely before he utters your name like a plea.

He squirms against his bindings and whines when you stop jerking him off once more, tries his best to keep his legs spread wide open while you eat his ass with scandalous fervour; humming and moaning as you devour him, and bucks his hips when you pull your mouth away from his tight hole.

“Come on, baby,” you coo, peeking up at him with lust hazy doe-eyes as you smack your glistening, puffy lips obscenely. “You can finish that prayer for me, right? One fucking time and I’ll let you cum. Just be a good boy for me now.”

His buff chest heaves as he nods weakly, eyes squeezing shut while his head tips back against the mattress with a dull thud; his hands ball into pale, tight fists and you notice the reddened and bruising skin around his wrists in a stark contrast against the cotton rope.

“Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou–“ His breath hitches sharply when you start licking his asshole again, circling the tight rim with the tip of your warm tongue before pushing inside with a low moan, all while stroking his weeping cock simultaneously.

A shuddering exhale wrecks through his whole body, but Johnny grits his teeth and manages to continue breathlessly:

“–thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of–of death! OH FUCK!”

The slick sound of your hand pumping his cock grows louder as you quicken your pace; wrist twisting and jerking teasingly; stroking him from base to tip relentlessly now that he managed to finish his little prayer.

When you lift your head again, scrambling onto your knees and bracing your free hand on his knee to watch him succumb to the pleasure, he’s nearly chanting while his back arches off the mattress, gorgeous eyes screwed shut.

“Pleasepleaseplease, fuck, please–!”

It’s a beautiful sight when Johnny finally comes undone all because of your mercy on him. His handsome face is twisted in pleasure, brows furrowed, teeth sunken into his pouty bottom lip while a deep flush covers his cheeks, his neck, his whole chest beneath a layer of coarse hair.

His breath stutters harshly when he shoots his load all over himself; thick, white ropes of cum splattering over his taut stomach and flexing pecs, some barely missing your face as you hover, milking his twitching cock for all its worth as he tries to muffle his whorish moans by twisting his face and biting into his own biceps.

“Jesus Christ, honey–look at you,” you giggle, eyes sparkling with delight as you keep stimulating his softening prick. “You have no idea how fucking pretty you look, coming so hard for me.”

Johnny keeps his blushing face hidden into the crook of his biceps as he rasps out: “Aye… ye’re a right fuckin’ menace, love.”

His abs are still clenching with panting breaths, his cock giving feeble twitches in your palm, and he hisses through clenched teeth, when you finally let go, and he goes lax on the mattress.

However, before his seed can cool and dry up on his skin, your eyes glint with another idea, and you swiftly drag your right palm through the mess on his torso before spreading it over your strap generously.

“Nah, nah–” Johnny protests meekly, eyes bugging as he catches on to what you’re doing.

“Shhh, ’s gonna be fine,” you shush, rubbing your hands up and down his trembling thighs soothingly so he keeps them open for you. He tugs on the rope again. “I’ll make you feel even better, okay? You’re being such a good pup for me. I just need a little more. I did make you feel good now, didn’t I?”

“Take the fuckin’ rope off,” Johnny huffs, nostrils flaring as he glares at you with fretfulness, raw-bitten lips pulled into his trademark pout before he relents and gets back into position.

“Wanna touch ye when ye fuck me with yer wee plastic knob.”

You snort, smiling gleefully as you lean over to untie him from the bedpost.

“It’s silicone.”

He clucks his tongue. “Ach, bloody fake, tha’s wha’ i’is.”

Once the cotton rope falls away and his hands come free, he’s on you with unrestrained greed—callous palms running up and down your flanks, squeezing your hips and mapping out the curve of your ass before groping the plump muscle so hard that he’s giving you a wedgie, causing you to yip at the sting.

“Ye’re so fuckin’ soft, hen. C’mere,” he groans as he tries to pull you on top of him before you push a hand against his sternum, keeping yourself from succumbing to his advances that easily.

“Nah–ah–ah.” You cluck your tongue in chide, shaking your head. “I am the Captain now.”

Johnny snorts at the corny movie quote and then groans as his head drops back against the pillow with a soft huff, hands resting on his stomach, though you can tell he’s itching to just grab you. “Fuckin’ tease ye are.”

You’re still snickering as you reach for the lube and pop the lid open to squeeze a generous dollop onto your fingertips before reaching down to prod at his spit-slicked asshole.

He gasps when you spread the slabby, cool fluid between his cheeks, drawing leisure circles around his hole with your fingertips before prodding at the tight rim. “You gotta relax for me, baby. C’mon now–”

His thigh muscles tremble and jump under his dewy skin, and you react by soothing your free hand over his leg, up his thigh and hip, squeezing his waist as you push your middle finger into his ass.

“Fuck!” His back arches at the intrusion, hands snatching the bedsheets and fisting them tightly, and you’re quick to hush him with a sly smile. “It’s a lot, hm? But you’re being so, so good for me–so fucking sexy, Johnny.”

Johnny exhales a ragged breath, blinking slowly as he relaxes for you—thick thighs parting some more while you prep his hole, adding your ring finger with a lewd squelch that leaves him whining as you begin to fingerfuck him agonizingly slow.

Eventually, you’re pleased by how much you’ve prepped him—judging by the steady flow of precum running down his shaft and the way his hole flutters around your fingers whenever you brush and stimulate his prostate.

He keens when you retrieve your fingers, and you smile when you guide the tip of your fake cock to his hole. The rosary is still swaying above him gently,

“Breathe, baby,” you coo as you push your hips forward, penetrating him slowly.

And you pull out half an inch, only to push forward again—steadily and carefully working the strap into his tight hole while your boyfriend takes short, shuddering breaths. “Lookit you—taking me so well, huh. Feels good?”

He’s a right mess already; hiding behind his arm thrown over his face, though you can clearly see the flush of arousal spreading over his chest and up his neck again. With his blood simmering and sensitive nerves frayed, his fat cock twitches meekly against his belly as you fuck him slowly.

You pinch his hairy thigh, and he grunts, peeking to glare at you. “I asked you a question, Sergeant,” you repeat. “Feels good?”

His jaw clenches as he nods curtly, and you almost laugh at how pissy he looks. You grab his hips as best as you can and bottom out completely, hips pressing flush against the back of his thighs, enticing a rough yelp that dissolves into a pathetic half-moan, half-whine.

You smirk wickedly. “There we go.”

His chest heaves, hips squirming—away from your fake cock or trying to get you deeper, you can’t quite tell.

“More?” You squeeze and massage his taut flesh gently, rocking your hips experimentally as you observe his every miniscule reaction. The crimson flush has reached his stubbled cheeks by now and your teeth itch to sink into the bit of fat covering the cheekbone. “Then use your words, sweetheart.”

Then, Johnny sighs your name like a prayer that he hopes can salvage him, causing your heart to thud and your cunt to clench and drool into your panties, and it’s all permission you need.

His cock throbs and jumps as you begin to fuck him with slow, deep grinds of your hips while your hands keep caressing him reverently—worshipping his warrior’s body; skimming over faded scars and scattered beauty marks while his skin breaks out in gooseflesh.

And you’re only a few thrusts in, when his hips buck and his face twists into something akin to a pained snarl while he utters curses under his breath—though it doesn’t make you falter.

You know that face well—it makes your stomach flutter and your lips purse in amusement.

“Aw, you’re gonna cum again, baby? Already?”

Not needing nor waiting for an answer, you dig your fingers into his hips, nails leaving angry red crescent moons on his skin, as you shift on your knees for a better stance before you start rocking your hips more fervently, driving the strap faster and deeper into his sopping ass.

The bed starts creaking comically; the obscene smack of your skin against his plump ass fills the room, along with your panting breaths and his borderline whorish moans.

Sweat trickles down the nape of your neck as you keep gripping and holding him in place on the mattress while the leather harness cuts into your skin, rubbing against the apex of your thighs and irritating your sensitive flesh—yet the pleasure you feel at seeing Johnny enjoying himself and being oh so vulnerable with you, leaves your mouth dry with want and your heart full of love and affection.

“F-Fuck,” he grunts, gripping his shaft with a shaky hand and glossy baby blue eyes while the other curls around one post of the headboard. He tries to jerk himself, but you are swift to swat his hand away, earning a pathetic whimper.

“No.”

He whines at your refusal, his head drops back to bare his throat like a submissive mutt, and your thrusts falter momentarily as you reach for a pair of discarded boxers on the dishevelled mattress before bracing one hand next to his head, hips stilling while his cock throbs.

“K-Keep movin’,” he croaks, swallowing dryly as he gazes up at you, tears brimming at his lash line. “Please.”

Your heart stutters along with your breath. He’s so bloody gorgeous.

“Open up,” you command, lifting the fabric to his mouth—and his eyes nearly roll back as you shove the black fabric into his mouth, gagging him and muffling another loud, throaty moan. “Good boy.”

After giving him a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, you don’t hold back anymore.

Your body moves on autopilot as you fuck Johnny’s ass, relishing and thriving in the way his face twists in pleasure, all this manly bulk squirming and writhing under your care while he grasps at the headboard, short nails scratching at the splintered old white paint covering the wood.

And your own breath stutters with a ragged moan when his cry of ecstasy if muffled by the cloth in his mouth as his body goes rigid, eyes screwing shut, hairy chest heaving.

“Come on, baby–” you’re panting in between harsh snaps of your hips, “look at me.”

Johnny does as you ask—the brightest colour of the sky peeking out behind heavy eyelids, hazy and unfocused before they slowly roll back into his skull, pulse throbbing in his bared throat in tandem with his cock as his muscles tense once more—

Before his second orgasm wrecks through him with violent shudders. The sight takes your own breath away.

You’re still rocking your hips languidly as you grasp his spilling cock to pump him in the rhythm of your thrusts, causing him to groan lowly in his chest; keening and blabbering around his makeshift gag as he bucks into your stroking hand while his cum runs down your knuckles.

Eventually, you gentle your thrusts but stay buried inside his ass; hips flush to his thighs, warm and tacky skin on skin as he continues to tremble and quake under your ministrations.

“Beautiful,” you catch yourself uttering as you bring your messy hand up to your lips to drag your tongue over your cum-stained digits.

Johnny’s long lashes flutter open and he groans lowly at the view of you lapping up his release from your fingers before he pulls the spit-soaked from his mouth with a huff.

“Steamin’ fuckin’ Jesus.”

Your shiny lips split into a pleased grin as you lean closer to put your fingers up to his lips, and he manages to look vexed for a few second before his mask crumbles, and he sucks your messy fingers into his mouth with a delighted hum while he keeps his hazy gaze on you.

When you finally do pull out, Johnny sighs deeply; long limbs spreading out on the mattress limply while you clean up the strap before taking it off and then taking care of the mess your boyfriend made on himself.

“Mhm, turnin’ me into a proper pillow princess, ye are.” He chuckles roughly as he curls one hand around your wrist to tuck you closer. “C’mon, lay with me, aye? Am feelin’ mighty sensible right now, luv, an’ it’s all yer bloody fault.”

There’s a raw kind of honest behind his words, despite the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes, and you can’t help but feel somewhat overwhelmed, too.

He pulls you into his side, wraps you up in his arms, and you can still feel a slight tremble in his body as he holds you and buries his nose into your hair to take a deep breath.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I? You liked it?” You caress his chest and feel his steady heartbeat under your palm which helps soothing your own frayed nerves.

However, the pause drags on longer than you expected, and for a moment, you can feel a sudden spike of anxiety in your chest before Johnny grabs your chin to tilt your face up to meet his eyes.

His gaze is half-lidded, tired yet sated, and a crooked smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he drinks you in. You want to open your mouth again to say something, anything to not let all of this turn awkward now, but he beats you to it: “Aye, ah loved it.”

Your chest deflates as you exhale through your nose while he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, crow’s feet appearing in the corner of his eyes as he smiles genuinely.

“I love ye,” he utters then, and it takes your breath away all over again, and you swallow thickly as tears immediately brim in your eyes, turning your vision blurry as you sniffle out his name like a plea, shifting in his embrace.

But he tightens his grip on you reflexively, keeping you close as he snickers softly.

“Aw, c’mon, hen,” he coos and smooches your forehead as you bury your face into his neck. “Say it back, yeah?” His arms tighten around you some more, clinging to you as your tears drip onto his shoulder. “Please,” he adds quietly, vulnerably.

You inhale a shuddering breath before you finally manage to croak out: “I love you.”

His heartrate accelerates; you can feel it in the way his pulse is fluttering in his neck, and before you know it, you’re pushed flat onto your back with a precise shove while he hovers above you with a toothy grin. “Knew it.”

You roll your eyes, still sniffling softly, a soft smile is gracing your lips. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m terrible?!” He snorts, highly amused. “Ye’re the reason ah won’t be able to sit at the bloody dinner table the next two days, m’love.” And he leans in to brush his nose against yours. “Say it again, aye? One more time f’me, hen.”

You purse your lips, tempted to let him work for it, though the smitten look on his face makes you cave. “I love you, John MacTavish.”

He sucks in a sharp breath at your declaration before he dives in to capture your lips in a bruising, all-consuming kiss while your arms snake around his neck, unable to do more but whimper as you part your lips to let him in.

“Love ye, too,” he mutters, swallowing each sweet noise of yours as he nudges your thighs apart with his bad knee. “M’gonna show ye how much.”

#my lover's got humor #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #call of duty #cod #soap x you #soap mactavish #cod smut #soap smut #cod x reader #john soap mactavish x you #johnny mactavish x you

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neeeooon · 2 months ago

Note

I loved the “When your parents walk in on you” mini-fic you wrote!! ( Ty to the anon who requested ) I would love if you could write another part but with different characters?? You can ignore this if you don’t wanna! 🫧

yes ofc!! i had a lot of fun w that one (ty anon 🫶) so TYSM FOR THE REQUEST 🫧🩵

when your parents walk in on you pt 2 ;

bf bllk x gn!reader. 16+ cw: suggestive!! nagi’s and kunigami’s are nsfr, slight nudity in sae’s (nothing graphic)

nagi seishiro

-> sleepovers with nagi were nothing new since both of your parents rarely visited you, but you still preferred them at his place. no one but you and reo ever visited him

-> however, your house was closer, and it was your birthday the next day, so he agreed to live with you for the week to celebrate (aka do nothing but lay in bed/on the couch and watch tv)

-> you were cuddled up the morning of your birthday when his shifting wakes you. half-asleep, you feel him place a few lazy kisses on your cheek and jaw as a sleepy wake-up

-> “happy birthday,” he drawled, his lips lingering on your warm skin as he slowly disappeared beneath the covers. you felt him trail kisses down you neck to your chest, on your stomach. you felt one on your hipbone that made you gasp when—

-> “happy birthday, y/n!!” your bedroom door flew open, and you instinctively grabbed a pillow to hide the nagi-shaped lump on top of you. “mom! dad, hi! um, what are you guys doing here?!” “we wanted to surprise you!! and meet that boyfriend of yours. his shoes are in your doorway, is he here?”

-> your face flamed. “uh, no—“ another kiss to your inner thigh. “nope! he keeps an extra pair here!” you slapped the pillow when his fingers crept across your waistband. “hey, idea!! why don’t you guys get us some breakfast pastries to celebrate?”

-> it takes a little convincing, and you’re practically yelling when nagi’s mouth returns on your skin, but your parents finally get the hint and close the door on their way out

-> once they’re gone, you throw the comforter back to reveal your sleepy boyfriend between your legs. “nagi! my parents just walked in!” “did they? hm.” and he goes back to kissing you

itoshi sae

-> you were in town for the holidays and brought your boyfriend along to meet your parents for the first time

-> they were out shopping for dinner when you arrived from the airport, leaving you and sae to get settled. you decided to use the extra time to show him your childhood home

-> “this is where you kept your posters of me, huh?” he teased as he ran a finger along some torn tape marks on your wall. you flushed, regretting the drunk confession immensely upon seeing his smug expression. “yeah, whatever. shut up.”

-> you tossed your suitcase open and rummaged around for some comfier clothes as sae continued scanning your room. except he the only thing his eyes scanned was your bare back when you pulled your shirt over your head

-> the feel on his hands along your sides made you gasp, but before you had the chance to turn and capture his lips, your door flew open

-> “welcome ho—why are you naked?” your dad asked with a raised brow as you scrambled to pull your shirt to your chest. “dad! get ou—“ “no way. itoshi sae, in the flesh. i’m a huge fan!!” “…”

-> you stand there, shirtless, as your dad rushes over to greet and shake your boyfriend’s hand. “i know my kid said they were in a relationship with a footballer, but part of me though they’d gone crazy!” “i’m lucky to have ‘em, sir.” “you scored a good one, y/n!” “thanks, dad !!” you say, still shirtless in your room as you dad fanboys over your sae

karasu tabito

-> you’d been dating karasu forever (two months) and had yet to introduce him to your parents

-> he was ready to lock you down after the first date, but you’re a bit hesitant about what you’re extremely strict family will think of your chill boyfriend

-> you’re at home when karasu is suddenly at your door with chicken and champagne in his hands. “i got a promotion,” he announced casually, but you can feel the excitement radiating off of him as you jump into his arms. “babe, that’s great!”

-> you’re so excited for your boyfriend, you forget your parents are on their way over for family game night

-> you’re on the counter, legs secure around your boyfriend’s waist, keeping him locked against you when there’s a gentle knock on your door. they don’t wait for an answer before entering, giving you barely enough time to shove karasu from between your legs and hop onto the floor

-> “mom, dad,” you greet as casually as possible, subtly wiping your mouth and panicking when you feel how swollen your lips are. “you guys are early!”

-> your mom hmphs at your slightly disheveled appearance. “you said 6:30. it’s 6:30.” you check the time, and sure enough, it’s now 6:31

-> ignoring you, your mom approaches your boyfriend, who is meticulously hiding the lower half of his body behind the center island. “i’m assuming this fellow you tried to inhale is your boyfriend?”

chigiri hyoma

-> you and chigiri were enjoying the house to yourself, watching a movie in your living room while you parents watched one at the cinema. you planned to finish before they returned so that they could officially meet chigiri at a more respectable time, but that didn’t necessarily go as planned

-> you’re seated in your boyfriend’s lap, his hands rubbing your back from beneath your shirt, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow

-> lust-hazed, your hands slip between your bodies when chigiri catches your wrist. “wait, your parents—“ “we’ve got plenty of time.”

-> famous last words. you’ve just reclaimed your boyfriend’s lips when the front door opens, and all the color drains from your face when you lock eyes with your father

-> “dad!” you scramble off of chigiri. “t’s not what it looks like!” “right!” “we were just studying and—“ “they attacked me!” chigiri blurts, and you gape are him in betrayal. “what?!”

-> your dad continues standing in the doorway. “y/n, did you attack this young man?” “no!!” “i’m not convinced,” he sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “come here, son. i’ll make you some tea.”

-> you watch as your dad gently pulls chigiri into the kitchen, leaving you there with your jaw on the floor and your hands on your hips. “mom!!!”

kunigami rensuke

-> it was a beautiful morning. birds chipping, breeze fluttering through your curtains, kunigami’s bare chest pressed against your back, arms looped around you in sleep. truly beautiful

-> you felt him shuffle as he woke up, removing one of the hands from your waist to rub his face. “mm, morning.” his voice, impossibly deep with sleep, made you feel all sorts of ways as you twisted to face him

-> your expression must have conveyed enough, because kunigami was kissing you before you had the chance to return the greeting

-> you giggled when he nipped your bottom lips, and he followed suit as he pulled the comfort over your heads. truly, truly a beautiful morning

-> and then the cover was pulled back, and your mother screamed as she shielded her eyes kunigami jumped off of you, clutching a pillow to himself as you grabbed the blanket. “mom?! what are you doing here!”

-> “i texted you that i was coming over with breakfast!” she cried, back turned so you and kunigami could get yourselves dressed. “typically when someone doesn’t respond, it means they’re busy!” “i thought you were sleeping! i didn’t know you had… oh wait, is that the boyfriend?!”

-> you drop your head into your hands, and your mother turns around once kunigami’s pajama pants and t-shirt are back on. he bowed to her, completely red-faced. “i’m so sorry we met this way. i promise i love y/n and will answer any questions you have for me.”

-> your mom swatted at the air between them and blushed. “oh, i don’t doubt that, sweetie! it was my fault for barging in here. we can chat over breakfast!”

pt 1

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kxsagi · 3 days ago

Note

hiiiiii, can you make reader giving the bllk boys a puppy or a kitten please? 🫶

(rin, bachira, reo, nagi, sae (+) maybe it’s their dream dog or cat :3

“𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞”

a/n: hiii ofc this is so cute ❤️

i, too, would name my pet yuzu

ft. itoshi rin, bachira meguru, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi

itoshi rin

rin does not ask for a kitten. rin does not want a kitten. rin receives a kitten anyway.

“what the hell is this.”

says that with a cat in his hoodie, purring on his chest, and his entire aura softened like a warm baguette fresh from the oven.

it’s a tiny grey one you found abandoned near your apartment, and when you bring it to him, you expect him to say no. instead, he stares at the mewling fluff ball for 0.2 seconds before going: “it’s cold. give me your blanket.”

cue you watching him spend 20 minutes constructing a blanket fort around it like a cat IKEA architect.

names it something really blunt like kuro. or neko.

says “don’t touch her too much. she’s scared.” like you’re the guest.

she ends up sleeping on his face. you take a picture. he threatens to burn your phone. doesn’t follow through.

bachira meguru

he almost cries when you show up at his door with a golden retriever puppy in your arms.

“NO. WAY. is that my son? IS THAT MY FUR SON???”

immediately drops to the floor and starts barking back. puppy’s barking. he’s barking. you’re filming. it’s a family moment.

names him “chompy.” refuses to explain.

goes on walks with him wearing matching jackets. even buys him goggles.

they’re inseparable. the dog howls when he leaves for practice. bachira howls back through the window.

teaches him stupid tricks like spinning in circles, headbutting people, and booping noses on command.

one day you come home to find him and the dog in a pile of treats on the floor. “he deserved a little snack party!” sure. and now your kitchen’s a crime scene.

mikage reo

reo stares at the calico kitten you brought like you stole her from a museum.

“she’s... beautiful. what if i’m not good enough for her?”

spoils her immediately. you are no longer his favorite girl.

gets her a princess-themed litter box. orders organic, salmon-glazed kibble with prebiotics. hires a cat nutritionist.

takes her to the vet in a designer carrier. wears sunglasses like he’s in a movie.

starts saying things like “i think she has an eye for luxury.” no, reo, she’s literally biting a sock.

names her something extra like lady caviar mikage III.

every time she lays on his chest he looks like he just got knighted.

she bit his finger once and he told you it was “because he deserved it.”

nagi seishiro

stares at the puppy you give him for a solid minute like it’s a math equation.

“... is it maintenance?”

you promise to do most of the work. nagi: “okay. sick.” two days later, he’s carrying it in his hoodie like it’s his new spawn.

puppy’s just as lazy as him. sleeps 22 hours a day. they nap together like matching plush toys.

names it something weird like tofu.

“don’t touch tofu, he’s resting.” he says, with tofu upside-down on his lap, tongue out like a slug.

tries to train him by just looking at him. no commands. just vibes.

when it works once (she sits), nagi gets so smug. “we understand each other. no need to talk.”

takes him to convenience stores in a sling like a baby. asks if he can get a dog discount. you leave him outside on purpose.

itoshi sae

gives you a blank stare when you drop the orange tabby into his arms.

“... what’s this?”

“love.”

raises a brow. but the cat headbutts his chin and immediately starts purring like a chainsaw and you see the pixelation of his soul.

acts cool and unaffected at first. until you catch him letting her sleep in his suitcase. and using a fake voice to talk to her.

“what do you want, you little gremlin. yeah? food? yeah? you wanna destroy my couch again?”

names her yuzu. pretends it’s random. actually named her after your favorite drink.

goes full tsundere. “she’s not mine, she just follows me around.” she literally sleeps on his laptop keyboard while he works.

lowkey checks his camera roll every night to make sure she’s in at least five new pictures.

“if anything happens to her, i’m suing god.”

isagi yoichi

when you surprise him with a shiba inu puppy, he screams.

“IS THIS REAL?? ARE YOU REAL?? ARE WE MARRIED???”

immediately puts him on his Instagram story with “me & my son 🥹”

names him something super normal like mochi. acts like it’s the most creative name on earth.

treats the puppy like a teammate. “good job, bud! way to poop outside!!”

you walk in on him training drills with the dog. like. actual cone drills. baby shiba zooming through like a pro athlete.

"he's got stamina. he could play for bastard in five years."

buys a matching hoodie for all three of you. “family fit check!!”

cries a little when the puppy licks his face for the first time. “he loves me.”

sometimes falls asleep with him on the couch and mumbles in his sleep: “pass it here, mochi…”

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bachira meguru x reader #meguru bachira x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #this ain't even about soccer anymore

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cameronsbabydoll · 29 days ago

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jewish!rafe and reader dropping their kids off at summer camp and rafe fucking her after ୨୧

warnings: smut, light exhibitionism, implied breeding kink, possessiveness, sorta just a big theme of rich jewish vibes

the drive upstate was supposed to be peaceful.

iced coffees. spotify curated playlist. the kids too busy with their tablets in the back to notice you were crying silently into a tissue with chanel sunglasses on.

“you’re not really crying already,” rafe says, glancing over at you from the driver’s seat. he’s wearing his navy baseball cap, the one that makes his jaw look extra sharp. his toned forearm rests against the wheel, wedding ring glinting in the sun.

“they’re my babies, rafe,” you sniff, dabbing under your eyes. “i know it’s good for them. but still. they’re gone for six weeks. that’s, like, thirty-nine sleeps.”

“you paid extra to make sure they stay longer,” he deadpans.

“because it’s good for them. not for me.”

jacob chimes in from the back seat. “mom, please don’t cry at drop-off. you already embarrassed me last year.”

sarah agrees, tugging her rhinestone sunglasses down her nose like she’s the one raising you.

you shoot rafe a look. “they’re literally abandoning me.”

rafe bites back a smile. “you’re gonna be fine, drama queen. In fact,” he says, voice dipping low as he slides his hand up your bare thigh beneath your linen skirt, “i already have plans for when we get home.”

you swat him away half-heartedly. “rafe. the kids.”

“are going to be on a bus in ten minutes.”

drop-off is absolute chaos.

sarah’s suitcase rips open. jacob refuses to take a group photo. you’re trying to pass out organic snacks and fix your lip gloss while hugging them so tight it’s dramatic even for you.

rafe is trying to stay calm—one arm looped lazily around your waist, sunglasses on, nodding at other parents like everything is normal.

when the bus finally pulls away, you’re waving with both hands, lip trembling, tears silently streaming down your cheeks.

rafe watches you for a moment.

“you good?” he asks, gently brushing hair away from your face.

you nod, not even looking at him.

then: “they’ll be back before the summer’s even over.”

you don’t answer.

so he leans in, murmurs, “we’ve got three hours before that housekeeper comes.”

your head snaps toward him.

he smiles. “get in the car.”

the second the front door of the penthouse shuts, he’s on you.

your birkin drops to the floor. your heels are kicked off halfway to the bedroom. he peels your blouse open without hesitation, leaving your van cleef bracelet on as he lays you out on the bed like something delicate—even if his hands are anything but.

“you’re still crying?” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. “poor baby. so emotional today.”

you whimper, threading your fingers into his curls as he presses his body against yours.

“i-i just hate when they leave,” you whisper.

“i know,” he says, rolling his hips into yours. “that’s why i’m gonna make you forget everything but me.”

he goes slow at first—luxurious strokes, his mouth on your chest, your neck, whispering how gorgeous you are, how hot you looked all teary-eyed at camp drop-off.

“you’re the hottest mom there, you know that?” he growls into your ear as you gasp beneath him. “all those dads were looking at you like they wanted to fucking die married to their wives.”

he pulls back, just enough to look down at you—hair messy, eyes wet, your jewelry catching the light.

“but you’re mine,” he says. “all mine.”

and when he finally lets you come—writhing, crying, whispering his name like it’s holy—he holds you after. kisses your shoulder. wraps the sheet around you like it’s a hug.

“i still miss them,” you breathe against his chest.

“i know,” he smirks, brushing his fingers through your hair. “but at least you got fucked like a good little wife today.”

the bedroom smells like your candle from bergdorf’s. the sheets are still messy from earlier, your birkin’s flopped over in the armchair, and you’re perched on the edge of the bed in your pale blue silk nightgown—matching robe half-off one shoulder like it slipped without you noticing. you’re all lit up by the glow of your phone, wine glass in hand, cooing at your children through facetime like you didn’t sob for twenty straight minutes this morning.

“did you eat your veggies, sarah?”

“jacob, did you put away all your clothes in the cabin?.”

“yes, mommy misses you too, so so much, my perfect babies—”

rafe walks in, towel slung low on his hips, water still glistening on his chest. he pauses in the doorway, squints.

“baby. what the fuck?”

you glance up, one hand over the mic like you’re in a board meeting. “i paid extra for a vip parent package. they let me facetime once a week.”

he just stares.

“they’re at sleepaway camp,” he says slowly, like maybe you forgot. “like in the woods. with counselors. and bugs. they’re not supposed to be on facetime.”

“they’re in the renovated cabin with wi-fi,” you correct, sipping your wine. “and i needed to see them. i was having a moment.”

rafe crosses the room, yanks the phone out of your hand just enough to peek at the screen. jacob and sarah are both in hoodies, looking vaguely annoyed.

“okay,” rafe says, leaning into the frame, towel still dangerously low. “time’s up, guys. your mom’s about to get really busy.”

“ew, dad!”

“gross!!”

he hangs up mid-protest, tosses your phone gently to the side table.

you blink. “rafe!”

“you’re insane,” he says, climbing over you, fingers already sliding under the hem of your slip. “you paid extra for camp facetime? baby, no wonder we didn’t get that amex bonus this month.”

you pout, squirming as he kisses your collarbone. “i missed them.”

“you’ll survive.” he pushes the straps of your nightgown down. “especially when you remember they’re gone for six weeks. and i’m gonna make sure you enjoy every single night without them.”

you gasp as he flips you gently onto your back, mouth hot against your skin.

“oh my god,” you breathe. “you’re such an asshole.”

but you’re smiling.

because you’re his princess—and now, with the kids gone, you’re his entire world.

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seellove · 1 month ago

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Travel Time! - Sukuna x Reader

Just got done packing for a trip and just had to write traveling with Sukuna before bed lol. Mainly fluff with some suggestive undertones.

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3

Traveling with Husband!Sukuna is always an experience given his grumpy nature.

Husband!Sukuna gets home from work and finds you’ve already prepared a packing list for your vacation tomorrow. You ask him to retrieve the suitcases from the basement and lug them up to your bedroom.

Husband!Sukuna who brings them up like you asked, a little grouchy but otherwise unbothered…until you tell him you need one carry on and one full sized bag, so you send him back down two stories to replace one of the small carry ons. He huffs and sighs dramatically as he reappears, but you just offer a happy “thanks baby” and turn back to gathering up everything.

Husband!Sukuna who gets annoyed when you come and ask for the fourth time to come look at his clothes with you while he’s trying to game. He is glad you are taking care of the packing but he claims to not care about what clothes you pack for him.

Husband!Sukuna who you know better than that because he’s way pickier than he claims to be, so you force him to come approve of what you’ve chosen and sure enough, doesn’t like the shirts you picked so he chooses some to replace.

Husband!Sukuna who likes to go to bed early and wake up early, starts getting ready for bed while you are finalizing everything. Before he can lay down though, you ask him to bring the trash out, bring the suitcases downstairs, and make sure his backpack is packed so that nothing is forgotten in the morning. More grunting and huffing follows as he brings everything down. Sometimes he thinks you just like watching him move around heavy shit and he’s not wrong because seeing the way his forearms flex and his biceps bulge isn’t a bad thing by any means.

Husband!Sukuna who is now grumpy and sleepy, asks if you need anything else before he finally lays down. You say no but as he sits on the bed and takes his shirt off, you ask if he can get you a glass of water. “Make up your mind woman,” he mutters before trudging back downstairs. Even if he moans and groans, he’ll never say no to you.

Husband!Sukuna who says he’s laying down for good, gets comfortable and watches you scurry around the room rounding up toiletries for tomorrow. He wishes you’d just handle the rest tomorrow and get in bed to snuggle up together. His gruff and grumpy exterior wouldn’t indicate this, but you know after a long day he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and hold you close. “Almost done Kuna!” you say as you zip up the toiletry bag, noticing his longing, red eyes from his pillow.

Husband!Sukuna whose alarm goes off bright and early, untangles himself from you, telling you to stay asleep while he finalizes everything. Sukuna loads up the car with everything, gets a coffee made for you, makes sure everything is neat and tidy for when you get back, and makes sure your electronics are charged for the plane ride.

Husband!Sukuna gently wakes you up, saying it’s time to get ready. He goes to heat up the car while you quickly get dressed and find your coffee hot and ready on the kitchen counter. You realize he’s taken care of everything else and your heart skips a beat. He’s always anticipating and thinking three steps ahead to make your life easier.

Husband!Sukuna who drives to the airport, listening to you yap about everything you have planned and how excited you are to be going on your tropical getaway. He hums in agreement, not really caring about the activities or the location, just that he’s excited to spend some time with you. In his eyes he just needs a nice, big bed that he can lay you down on without the distractions of your normal home life.

Husband!Sukuna is too busy day dreaming about fooling around with you and doesn’t hear you ask him where he was going to park for the third time. He chooses the garage closest to the airport, his woman shouldn’t be subjected to walking long distances in the winter cold. He’d carry you if he could, but he needs to handle all the bags, he wouldn’t let you life a finger to help haul everything inside.

Husband!Sukuna who follows your lead as you walk up to the airline counter. He has no idea about any of the trip ins and outs, he just follows you around, happy to be in your presence. He loves how much of a planner you are and it impresses him every time you plan a trip for you both. It’s certainly a gift you possess and he loves that about you.

Husband!Sukuna drops the bags off at the counter while you gather the boarding passes. With his hands finally free of the luggage, he laces his fingers with yours, you squeezing his warm, rough hand in return. You lean against his side and he leans down to plant a kiss on the top of your head. “Alright baby, let’s get this adventure started,” he says as you head towards security, excited to leave your busy lives behind for a few days.

Part 2 will be navigating the airport and the flights. This seems so random but I’m flying tomorrow and this just came to me lol.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna headcanons #sukuna x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #sukuna fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #husband sukuna

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mashtatosworld · 2 months ago

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i'll be there

summary: jiyong goes on a work trip but then your baby gets sick...

Packing should have been simple.

It was only two days.

But Jiyong was good at stalling.

You were folding one of his shirts while he lay sprawled across the floor, halfheartedly tossing things into his suitcase like a petulant child being forced to do chores.

Diva, ever his little shadow, stood beside him, clutching one of his headscarves in her tiny hands.

“Give that to Appa,” you encouraged her, nodding towards the soft silk.

She gripped the fabric tight before proudly handing it over.

Jiyong gently took it, thanking her, before dramatically tossing it into the suitcase like it physically pained him.

Diva watched this carefully.

So, when you handed her one of his hats next, she did the same - aiming for the suitcase but missing completely.

Jiyong sat up. “See? She doesn’t want me to go. It’s a sign.”

You rolled your eyes, picking the hat up off the floor. “No, she’s just copying you, as always.”

“Exactly. And if I don’t want to go, she doesn’t want me to go.”

Diva gave a little nod, though she definitely didn’t understand what was happening.

Jiyong gave you a smug look.

You ignored him, instead pulling out another jacket. “Do you want to take this one?”

He barely glanced at it before his eyes drifted to the open closet.

And there, hanging neatly beside both of yours -

Was Diva’s tiny, pink dressing gown.

Jiyong immediately groaned, falling back to the floor again. “I can’t go.”

“Jiyong.”

“I can’t!”

You sighed, shoving the jacket into the suitcase yourself. “I’ll finish packing for you, since I know neither of you are going to be any real help.”

Diva, now fully siding with her Appa, sat on his stomach watching you as you moved around the room.

He stared up at the ceiling of your room. “I hate this.”

You laughed. “You’ll be gone for two nights.”

“Two nights too many.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

He was late.

His flight was in an hour, and he was standing in the doorway, hugging you both like he was about to be exiled forever.

“I don’t wanna go,” he murmured into your hair, his arms tightening around you and Diva.

“I know.”

He pulled back with Diva perched on his hip in her little matching Chanel outfit - because of course she had one. She stared up at him, blinking slowly, her little hands clutching his shirt.

Jiyong sighed and pressed his lips to her head. “I was supposed to take my baby with me.”

“She’s been a little off these past few days,” you reminded him gently. “I think it’s better if she stays home.”

This would be the first time he was separated from her overnight since... well she was born. When you two were younger and touring the world for your careers, you had been torn apart many times. But since having your baby, the three of you travelled together everywhere.

The plan had been for Diva to accompany Jiyong whilst you went to rehearsal's but for the past couple days she hadn't been sleeping through the night and was turning her nose up at any food placed in front of her.

You smiled, squeezing his arm. “You're going to miss this your flight again.”

“They can move it.”

You sighed. “Jiyong.”

He huffed, pouting, and cupped Diva’s little face in his hand. “You promise to be good for Eomma?”

She nodded, her little spiky pony-tail bobbing. He carefully handed her to you, hands lingering.

He kissed her forehead. Then kissed you. Twice. Then Diva again.

You rolled your eyes. “Ji, you’re going to miss your flight.”

“Then I’ll have an excuse to stay.”

“Go.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Go.”

He finally, finally stepped back, dragging his feet toward the car.

You didn’t tell him that you watched from the window as he lingered outside, checking his phone like he was hoping you’d text him to come back.

You didn’t tell him that Diva started calling for him when he got in the car, her little hand pressed against the window.

And you definitely didn’t tell him that later that day, something happened.

Something that would make him turn the plane around.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Diva loved rehearsals.

Normally, she’d sit with her Appa, tucked under his arm, sipping her juice while watching you dance.

But today, she was too quiet.

You glanced over, expecting to see her watching, but she was barely paying attention - just sitting cross-legged with her iPad in her lap.

You frowned, crouching beside her, brushing her hair back. “You okay, baby?”

She gave a tiny nod, but she looked… off.

Maybe she just missed her Appa.

To cheer her up, you handed her some juice.

And that’s when it happened.

She gagged.

Your eyes widened.

And then -

She started throwing up.

“Oh, my angel,” you gasped, immediately scooping her up, holding her close as she whimpered into your chest.

Rehearsal was over.

You didn’t care.

By the time you got home, she was still fussy, clinging to you, barely drinking anything.

You bathed her, changed her into soft pyjamas, and rocked her to sleep in your arms.

She felt so small.

Jiyong FaceTimed the second he landed, still on the plane.

“Where are my girls?” he grinned, expecting to see Diva running around behind you.

Instead, you flipped the camera, showing her tiny form snuggled under a blanket.

“She just fell asleep,” you whispered.

His smile softened. “My baby.”

You didn’t tell him she had been sick.

No need to panic him.

She’d be fine by morning.

Right?

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

She wasn’t fine.

She cried through the night, throwing up a couple more times until you were concerned enough to bring her to bed with you.

Both of you slept terribly and had matching messy buns as you watched a show on the tv, much in need of a quiet morning.

She was sat propped up against Jiyong’s pillow, holding onto his glasses that he’d left behind.

Your chest ached.

You pulled out your phone.

He answered immediately.

His face lit up. "Jagi!"

You could tell he was in the middle of something - a fashion show, probably. There were cameras around him, producers talking in the background. But the second he saw you, nothing else mattered.

He grinned, turning his phone around. “Look, everyone! My babies!”

The people around him smiled and waved, some even cooing at the screen.

Meanwhile, you tried to stay out of frame, knowing full well you looked a mess.

“Ji,” you hissed, “don’t show me!”

He pouted. “Why not? You’re so beautiful.”

He wouldn't share with you then how he'd been in the middle of sharing some of his favourite photos of you two for the camera for his show. You'd see it anyway when the fans reposted that particular photo of you holding your baby girl after she'd just covered your face in ice cream. One of his many screensavers.

You rolled your eyes but felt warm all the same.

But the second he saw Diva in her little pink dressing gown, his expression softened into something warm and longing.

“You miss Appa?” he murmured.

She didn't say much but held up his glasses.

Jiyong whined. “Shall I just come home?”

You chuckled. “No, no. We just wanted to see you.”

"I know you're busy with rehearsal today but can you call me when you two have lunch? I'll eat with you," He says, even though he was a few hours behind.

"Um, sure." You nod, but you knew you were staying home today and weren't sure if your baby would be willing to eat. You didn't want to panic him, knowing full well he'd cancel everything and come home if he caught wind that she was even just a little bit under the weather.

He kissed his phone and you handed yours to Diva so they could say their own goodbyes.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

She didn't eat.

She couldn't keep anything down - not even water.

That’s when you started panicking.

You called everyone.

Your husband's mom.

Your mom.

Hyorin.

“She’s probably just got a stomach bug.”

“Just keep her hydrated, she’ll be fine.”

“If you’re really worried, take her in.”

And you were worried.

So you went to the hospital.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

"It's a typical case of norovirus," the doctor explained. "She'll be okay but we'll keep her overnight since she's dehydrated."

You nearly burst into tears.

Overnight?

Your baby, in a hospital bed with an IV in her tiny hand?

The guilt pierced through your calm bubble and that’s when you finally called Jiyong.

And that’s when he lost it.

“She’s what?!”

“She’s going to be okay, but - ”

“I’M COMING HOME.”

“Ji - ”

“I’M COMING HOME.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Jiyong moved heaven and earth to get back.

Left everything behind - his team, his manager, his luggage.

He didn’t wait for a private flight.

He didn’t care that he was flying commercial, stuck in economy with no security or leg room.

He didn’t even care that fans were taking pictures of him wiping his eyes with his hoodie sleeve.

All he cared about was getting to his family.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

When he arrived at the hospital, he burst into the room, breathless, hoodie pulled low over his eyes, but they were still red-rimmed and teary.

His gaze immediately locked onto the tiny form in the bed.

Diva, pale and sleepy, her IV-covered hand resting on her chest.

He kneeled on the bed, leaning over her.

“Baby,” he choked, brushing her hair back.

She stirred, blinking up at him with a small, sleepy smile.

“Appa…”

That was all it took.

Jiyong broke.

Tears slipped down his cheek as he leaned in, pressing a thousand kisses to her forehead, her hands, her little cheeks.

“I’m here, princess,” he whispered. “Appa’s here.”

You ran a hand down his back. “Ji, don’t cry.”

But you were crying too.

He pulled you close, both of you climbing onto the bed with her, wrapped up in each other.

And when it was finally time to sleep, Jiyong refused to leave her side.

His voice was barely a whisper:

“I’m never leaving again.”

And you knew he meant it.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

a lovely request! i actually had norovirus recently and it was brutal. poor diva ;(

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford

#bigbang #kpop #gdragon #kwon jiyong #mashtatosworld #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #request #gdad

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jillsandwhichs · 3 months ago

Text

Forced to love you

Chapter 11 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You've been forced into an arranged marriage with Mr. Miller, a rich businessman, also known for being a bit cold and straight forward. Neither of you wanted this but you suppose you two will make it work somehow

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Married

WC: 4.0k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Smut - Making out, Dirty talk, Oral (Both receive), Overstimulation, Spanking, Protected P in V, Doggy style, Hair pulling, Choking, Clit rubbing, You both finish, Slight aftercare

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Placing your purse down on the marble counter, you took in the large cliff side mansion you're inside of right now. The large window panels all along the kitchen wall display the beautiful bodies of water and all of the colorful homes surrounding it. Greece is really such a beautiful place - you just wish you weren't here on these terms. The terms of a honeymoon you didn't even want.

Oh but father & mother dearest know best, right? At least they think they do. Having you merge with another wealthy family is just their way of further building their empire. Of course, you have received the short end of the stick, again, being forced to marry Joel Miller - a wealthy business man with a broody attitude about him.

Speaking of, you turned around to see him carrying in your suitcases. He set them down and looked up at you. You looked away, gazing back out at the water, admiring how it glistened and called out to you. "Your father called me while I was outside, he wants to know how you're doing, so I suggest you call him soon." "Will do." "We are also to have dinner tonight, your father made us reservations in town, so dress up and look pretty."

You scoffed and looked down at what you're already wearing. It's a peachy pink flowy dress that goes down to just above your ankles. It pair with it, you're wearing sandals that your mother gifted you for your birthday a few months back. "Do I not look pretty right now." You couldn't care less if he finds you attractive or not, but seriously? This outfit is it. "You do. My apologies. Wear that then." Joel stated.

Admittedly, you blushed a little bit.

You didn't want to marry Joel, hell, you want to divorce him this instant, but he isn't the worst man. Earlier today, before the ceremony, Joel had told you he'd respect you and be there for you, which came as a surprise. Everyone told you he was an asshole who was all about work & money. Maybe he is, but he's been decent to you so far. It better remain that way.

"What time are the reservations?" "For six until seven. It's as a restaurant in the city, it's beautiful so don't worry, it'll be to your taste." "Do you think I'm some spoiled brat or something?" "Yeah." The audacity! You rolled your eyes and he smirked. "Don't roll your eyes at me." "Or what?" "You'll find out if you do it again." "Whatever." You turned back to face the windows. "I'm going to unpack my things, I advise you do the same soon." Joel said before walking off into the bedroom of the mansion - the singular one there is.

It's late now. Nearly 7:30 at night. You two had dinner and it was nice. Your father had made the reservations in hopes of you and Joel getting to know one another better - and you did. He does seemingly care about his work and his money but it surely isn't his life. Still, you're keeping him at bay. You're sure the two of you will be cheating on each other and despising one another in no time!

Joel is currently in the shower, you're in the room just outside of it. The bedroom is nice, it came with complimentary essentials and honestly anything you'd need for a week in Greece. You're originally from the U.S, Joel too, but your mother had you pick between either going to Spain or Greece and of course, Greece it was. That was literally the only thing you had say in when it came to your wedding, sadly.

Looking through the nighttime attire your mother packed for you to wear, you soon came to realize a theme. Literally everything is revealing. You scoffed and groaned loudly, all of the city could probably hear it. The most modest piece of attire that was packed is a short lenghted silky nightgown. The base color is pink with a lacy white trim. It's cute, but your mother obviously wants you and Joel to connect in more ways than one.

You have to work with what you have though.

You took off the clothes you were currently wearing and threw them into the basket on the other side of the room. Of course, you kept your panties on but removed your bralette - you shouldn't wear those to bed. The nightgown is comfortable. Soft & cozy. Glancing in the mirror, you smiled. You feel pretty. The sound of the shower turning off was heard and you sighed softly. Guess that's all the alone time you'll be getting.

Joel isn't a bad guy. You two just... Aren't made for one another. This is truly depressing.

Climbing into bed, you tucked yourself beneath the covers and grabbed the remote off of the bedside table. You told your father that if anything, you'll need a suite with a TV - it'll take your mind off of things. You doom scrolled through different channels until you settled on one with a cooking show. Not the best option, but it is distracting enough. As your eyes were casted upon the television, Joel walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.

You were quick to look away. Admittedly, you felt wrong when looking. However, your brain is totally working against you. There's no denying he's an attractive man, because he is. You even said that to him. Attraction isn't the point though. He grabbed a pair of pajamas and began to change but in a way so you couldn't see, thank the Lord. At least he has decency!

When he was done, Joel ambled back into the room and over to the bed, where you were lying down. "Want me to take a different room? I'm sure the couch is comfortable enough." He said softly, just trying to get this ordeal done and over with. That's harsh. You won't do that to him. "No Joel, that's alright. If we're to be married for life, we better get used to this lifestyle." You snorted with sarcasm, scooching over on the bed to provide him with some room.

He nodded and sat down, running his hand through his damp hair. You couldn't help yourself - you gazed at him. Wow, he cleans up nicely. Too bad this marriage was an arranged one. You sighed deeply and he noticed. "You good?" "I'm fine. Just tired." You said softly, nestling your head against the pillows. He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, me too." He laid back and shut his lamp off, but you left yours on.

"Going to bed already?" "Trying to." He said in a deep voice, "Mind turning that TV off?" Ugh. "Not at all." You shut it off and laid back just as he did. Well, this is awkward. You're laying in bed with a man you met today, married and had dinner with. What a fucking shit show. You rolled over to face him and his eyes were already on you. Behind the bed frame is a large window, the moonlight casted down onto you two, specifically you & your face. It's pleasant, honestly.

Joel sighed deeply before clearing his throat. "You know, for what it is worth," he looked into your eyes, "I don't think you're half bad." He chuckled and looked down. You giggled and nodded. "Everyone said you were an asshole, I'll admit, I was nervous to meet you." "Eh, I definitely am an ass but to my now wife, I won't be. I can't be." He mumbled and looked back up at you, his eyes stark & piercing, making you feel a certain type of way.

That made you smile. This man isn't so bad after all. You know he'll make a good friend. Hopefully you two can sort out being with other people later, it'll be for the best. You sighed softly and viewed into his eyes once again, this time they were more gentle and kind. How sweet. "Is everything okay?" You whispered, biting your lower lip. "Of course." He nodded. "By the way," Joel smirked and looked you up and down, "that nightgown suits you well." He murmured.

That made you blush, truly. How kind of him to say. You thought the same thing. "Doesn't it? I like it a lot... Yeah, unfortunately, mother dearest only packed me... Sexual attire... So..." You snorted. "Well, that ain't so bad..." Joel said in his normal voice. "What do you mean?" "Uh," he chuckled and broke eye contact, "Nothing sweetheart, ignore me."

Sweetheart? He's calling you names now? It made your stomach heat up. You slowly nudged closer to him without even realizing it. "Sweetheart? Admittedly, I like that." You giggled and you were now closer to him, so close you could feel the warmth emitting from his jacked build. "Hah," Joel laughed, "Figured you would." His laugh is... Adorable. That laugh coming from a big burly man is the cutest thing.

Maybe you could learn to... You don't know, care for this man in more ways than one?

Joel gandered back up at you, his gaze back to that starkish glaring one but this time, there was something more in those brown eyes of his. Something of adrenaline and/or ecstasy. It made you get slightly shy, really. "Joel?-" you were instantly cut off by his lips pressing to yours in a manner you didn't expect. You moaned immediately and encased your arms around his neck, Joel quickly rushing to get on top of you.

His hands pinned yours above your head and his lips rapidly moved with yours. This escalated so fast. You can't even think straight. "Wait, wait," you kissed him back and smiled, his hands holding your wrists firmly. "Hmm?" He muttered out, beginning to kiss your neck side crazily, his lips all over, leaving marks and presses. "This is totally shocking, are we gonna?-" "Am I going to fuck you? Only if you want me to."

God damnit, why did him saying that turn you on? You're a virgin. The most you've done is suck a guy off and it was terribly embarrassing. "So, do you want me to?" Joel added, stopping his kisses and awaiting an answer. Do you? This man is your husband, yes, but only as of today. You feel nervous. "I..." "Yes or no? I won't be upset." He whispered softly, his lips so soft against your neck.

"Yes."

It came out so smoothly & simply, as if this was meant to happen. "That'a girl." Joel smirked against your neck before kissing your lips again and slipping his tongue into your mouth, allowing it to intertwine with yours. It felt good. He makes you feel good. Unfortunately, this is a battle of Lust vs Love and lust is heavily taking over. Either way though, you're too deep now to back out and really, you don't even want to. You want him to take your purity - he is your life long partner now.

As the two of you kissed, it was a heated one. You haven't kissed someone in such a long time, you forgot how exciting it is. His hand trailed down to his shirt before he took it off, throwing it on the floor beside the bed. You took your chance to feel up on him, touching his chest and his lower abdomen area. You felt his V line and it is so prominent - that really turns you on. Joel is sexy. Maybe him railing you won't be so bad...

He smiled as you felt him. You touched all over his torso area. He's built and he's built well. "Can you do something for me?" He whispered into your small ear before kissing it gently. "Mhm." You whimpered out. "Have you ever given a man a blowjob before." He pulled away and smirked. Oh, you know where this is going. "A long time ago, yes." "Hmm," Joel smiled and kissed your forehead. "Wanna do that for me?" He asked you, so kindly. "I do." You nodded. You do.

Joel nodded and adjusted his seating position. Now he was sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard. Perfect positioning for you to make him all sorts of dumb. You smiled and pulled your hair back, ensuring it won't get in the way. He is wearing a light pair of sweatpants, some that'll come off rather easily. The imprinting of his hard cock is noticeable. You're practically drooling at this point.

You pulled him out of his pants, a slight bit of pre cum lies right on his tip. So hot. So sexy. You bit your lower lip before wettenening them, overall just preparing yourself. "You'll do so good baby." Baby... Oh fuck, that's so hot. You smiled and leaned down before quickly wrapping your lips around the head of his dick, just testing the waters. Joel was haste to seeth and let out a faint grunt. "Oh yeah, this is gonna be good." He murmured to himself.

Then and there, you started to suck his cock. He's hard, rock hard. The first guy you ever blew wasn't like this. In a way, you're glad Joel is this turned on, it shows that maybe this isn't just a lustful thing for him. But what do you know? It probably is. I mean, you two will eventually have sex, especially if he doesn't agree to the affair orders. Enough of that though, you just wanna focus on pleasuring him right now.

You swirled your tongue all along his cock, from the base to the tip, all over. Joel simply watched you in awe. There's no denying your beauty and watching you of all people give him a blowjob, he's under your spell. You used your hand to jerk the spots you weren't focusing on as you licked his tip. His pre cum was slightly thick and it had a sweet taste to it. God, you want to swallow his semen terribly.

You closed your eyes as you moved your head faster, suckling his cock as quickly and perfectly as you could. "Fuck, that feels so good." Joel moaned and his hand now rested on the back of your head. "Good girl, fuck." He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. You're like a witch, winding him under your seduction. He pushed your head down slightly, forcing you to take his dick deeper into your mouth.

After a little while longer, he twitched in your mouth and that's how you knew he was just about to finish. You took the opportunity to shove your head all the way down, his tip hitting your throat and your eyes as watery as ever - and it worked. "Christ, oh fuck." Joel gasped out as he came deep into your throat, his sweet cum seeping into your mouth until you swallowed it all. Joel snickered and gazed at you in surprise.

"Holy fuck, you got a mouth on you." You giggled at his words. "So I've been told." You smiled. "Yeah? Come here." He grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap. You laughed and kissed him, your lips locking with his. He breathed in deeply as you kissed him. Your kisses are full of ecstasy and need. "I want you to ride my face." He stated in between kisses. God. That's just what you need.

Once again, he fixed his seating position and this time, laid all the way back until his head was on the pillow. "I've never done this before." "You don't got anything to worry about, I'll be doing all the work. You just sit on my face and relax." The way he talks is so attractive, really. You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Okay then." You took off your panties and threw them on the ground beside his shirt from earlier. "Now c'mere."

Listening, you climbed over his body and over to his face. His hands held onto your thighs and he pulled you down. You felt the slight prickle from his beard on your area and you sighed deeply. You know Joel will take good care of you. "Just take it baby." Was all he said before he then began to feast upon you. This isn't how you expected it to feel. It feels amazing. Joel really knows what he's doing. "Oh Jesus Christ." Your head was already tossed back.

His tounge was clearly all over your pussy, your so very wet pussy. You moaned loudly and held onto the headboard. It definitely feels a bit awkward & unhinged but fuck, Joel is just going at it, how can you not just allow it? "That feels so fucking amazing." You laughed and looked down. His eyes were closed. He's in the moment. All he wants to do is please you and to taste you and God, you taste heavenly.

Gripping the bedframe, you began to slowly grind your cunt against his face. You can't help yourself, it feels too good. "Oh Joel." You moaned softly, your body shaking faintly. His hands held onto your thighs, he was literally gripping them with force. His tongue protruded at your hole, sticking it in and out of it quickly before going back to suckling on your pulsing clit. You're so wet. You're so fucking horny.

This is not how you expected tonight to go.

"I feel like..." God, you haven't felt this in a good bit. It's only when you're touching yourself that you do. "Cum for me sweetheart." He detached from your pussy only for a moment and just to say that. "Oh fuck!" Your body shook and your eyes squeezed shut as you came. Joel didn't stop. He sucked and licked all over as you came. It was so overstimulating. "Oh, fuck, stop, stop!" You yelled out and he was detached just like that.

You got off of his face and giggled loudly, looking at him as you caught your breath. "That was great." You snickered and layed back. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." He smiled and leaned over, kissing your cheek, then your pretty pink lips. "I still want you." You swathed your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He smiled into the kiss and nodded. "Here." He pulled away from the kiss and flipped you over, landing you on your stomach and pulling your ass up.

Doggy style, hmm, okay.

You giggled and rubbed your rear along his manhood, causing him to get hard all over again. "Dirty girl." He murmured before spanking you, causing you to moan loudly. You didn't expect that. You guess this man is kinky. "Are you a virgin?" He whispered into your ear before kissing behind it. "I am." "Okay baby, I'll be gentle." He said in a soft tone before pulling back behind you. He pulled his pants down, then lifted your nightgown up, revealing your bare ass to him.

Joel reached over and grabbed a condom from the drawer. There were some in the bathroom too. Honeymoon suites do not mess around. He slipped it over his hard cock and looked back down at you. "If it hurts at all, just tell me." "Okay." You nodded and smiled, looking straight ahead as you waited for him. Within that minute, he stuck himself inside of you, slowly and passionately. You moaned and felt your insides tighten at the sudden feeling.

"Loosen up baby, it'll feel better." You had to calm yourself down. You're suddenly nervous and a bit on edge. "Want me to stop?" "No, please no." You said softly, holding onto the bedsheets below you. "Just be gentle." "Of course." Joel responded. He began to move but his strokes were subtle and gentle. He doesn't want to hurt you. "You feel so good." He said in a deep voice, pushing himself in and out of you.

It's a whole new sensation. It feels like a delicacy. Goodness, it's great. "It does feel nice." You giggled and nuzzled your head against the bed, just letting loose and allowing Joel to make the most out of this expirence. "You're so beautiful." He whispered before his movements picked up, but barely. He just wants you to be okay. "Just like that." You moaned out and closed your eyes, now just relishing in the feeling of him within you.

A little bit after you entirely adjusted to him, his hips rocked against your ass a bit quicker now. The feeling was exquisite. You've never felt this way before. "So fucking tight, Jesus Christ." Joel grunted as he fucked you, his dick going into you at a pace in which was perfect, it was magnificent. "Joel!" You moaned and attempted to lift your head up and as you tried, he shoved you back down, his hand going to the back of your neck to keep you in place.

Oh, you liked that. It was sudden but very arousing.

As he slammed into you now, his pace not gentle as it was, all you could do was take it. Like this, it is even better, you just needed a minute to adjust. "Maybe this marriage won't be so bad." You giggled out to Joel and he smiled, though you couldn't see it. "That's what I like to hear." He spanked you again and this time, your back arched even more. This is amazing. You really didn't think this would happen but wow, what an outcome it is.

Joel's hand trailed up into your hair and somehow, you knew what he'd do because before you knew it, he was pulling on it. Your head was being pulled back roughly but the pain mixed with the pleasure was perfect. You moaned loudly and held your breath as he fucked you, hard. Him pulling on your hair, fucking you and talking to you all at once was too much.

"I'm gonna cum again." You moaned out, closing your eyes. "Cum for me sweetheart." He whispered before reaching over and holding onto not only your hair, but now your neck. He lifted you up until your back was against his front. His hand was now around your neck and his other around your stomach, holding you close. This is it. You moaned softly as you felt his plunge into you a few more times until he ultimately came first, which then caused your undoing.

As you came, he caressed your clit with haste and your body shook, even more than it did with your first orgasm. "God, you take it so well." Joel grunted as he kissed behind your ear whilst rubbing your nub and pushing himself into you. There were so many feelings all at once, it was amazing. You giggled and bit your lip, closing your eyes and simply intaking the enjoyable & pleasurable moment.

Coming down from your high and snapping back into reality, Joel pulled out of you with a chuckle and you two laid down on the bed together. He took off the condom and set it on the table; He can throw it away later. "So..." You began with a faint giggle and Joel bellowed. "You were amazing." He leaned over and kissed your forehead. "Are you okay? Did I break ya?" He joked. You nodded. "Yes to both." He laughed at your sentence.

"I feel so..." "Hmm?" "Good." You giggled and spun over to face him. "Let's do it again!" You climbed on top of him and he laughed out, holding your hips. "Let's do it then."

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