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#he do be packing 👀
klirk-hammurton · 2 years
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I haven't posted KISS in a hot minute.
In case you need some Star Daddy in your life today
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@you-were-just-a-dream @doodoostinky @cosmicrealmofkissteria @kissmaidens-blog @your-local-rockstar-simp @ohblackdiamond @rosemary-rabbit @to-the-stars-and-forward @daughter-of-aphrodite @thayerslayer
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3amsnek · 1 year
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birthday bastard boy!!! went in a completely different direction this time with my annual Jim Appreciation Art and had a blast painting him with some fun brushes :3 love my strange lil son
click for better quality
reblogs >> likes!!
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simmersofia · 2 years
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Teen fling 💕
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kep1skz · 11 months
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serenity wynter is from the country (henford-on-bagley), and although she loved being with her family and taking care of the farm shes always wanted more so she moved to san myshuno to explore more of the world and go on numerous adventures throughout the city. her plan is simple, move to the city meet > lots of new friends and potentially her soulmate > move to a ranch and own horses and maybe even have children. shes very simple really.
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mvncesa · 11 months
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wolves being pack animals vs decker’s traumatized ass
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blujayonthewing · 2 years
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Most Replayed feature on youtube continues to be really funny
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wyclair · 1 year
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werewolf!robb stark is so real to me
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blueywrites · 27 days
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baby can we smoke?
eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader you're the last person eddie expects to leave a note in his locker, but he won't regret meeting you out by the picnic table.
2.8k
cw: 18+. innocent reader (not minor-coded), corruption kink, weed usage, allusions to smut while high, no y/n, no physical descriptions.
Another 'naughty nights' ask that got a bit lengthy (check out the original ask here). I had fun writing from this perspective! Should I continue this with a part two? 👀 Let me know what you think. (PART TWO IS HERE!)
enjoy xx
Eddie finds the note in his locker right before lunch. It's written on a quarter of a math worksheet, ripped carefully at the folds and decorated with little doodles of hearts and clouds and shooting stars drawn in sparkly purple pen. That's not the only note in there, but it’s the only one that has him curious, ‘cause it’s from you.
He stops by your lunch table just before the final bell, letting his eyes rove over you while you aren’t paying attention. You’re wearing your typical attire: a fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, baggy and soft-looking like cotton candy, paired with a little pleated skirt and that heart locket he always sees hanging from your neck in the class you share. He hadn’t pegged you as the type of girl to smoke, and it isn’t just because of the way you look since his clientele is diverse, dips into almost every pocket of the high school social ecosystem. It’s more the way you carry yourself— you seem to kind of float through life, let it bob you about without any resistance or, like, awareness, even? Like, you hum to yourself while you take notes; you don’t talk a ton, but when you do, you’ll talk to literally anybody who’s in proximity to you, including the teachers; and you’re always either giggling or smiling or, sometimes, wearing a look of vague confusion where your glossed lips will hang open, parted in a little ‘o’ like with all your concentration focused on trying to understand something, you have nothing left over to control your face.
Eddie doesn’t wanna call you dumb because that’d make him feel like an asshole, but you just seem so
 innocent to be asking him to teach you how to smoke weed. It briefly crosses his mind that someone might just be trying to fuck with him and you hadn’t actually written the note, but when you finally notice him nearby, your wispy-lashed eyes widen eagerly like you’d been expecting him. 
“Yeah, so,” you say, as if continuing a conversation you’d already been having with him, “I really wanna get high, and Susie said you’re the one who sells weed, but I just don’t know how to smoke. I’ve never done it before, not even, like, cigarettes or anything.”
You seem oblivious to the way several heads at the tables around yours swing around to stare, easily overhearing since you’re not making any effort to lower your voice. Eddie merely quirks a brow at them, and when they make eye contact with him, they turn back around. “So,” you go on, “I’d just need you to help me, show me how to smoke and stuff. Would that be okay?”
Eddie debates it for just a moment before relenting with a nod. He tells you to meet him after school at the picnic table behind the athletic fields and you agree right away, smiling up at him with an expression of such utter awe and glee that he has to stop himself from snorting in amusement. It’s funny, but it’s also kind of cute, too— Eddie doesn’t remember the last time someone was so excited at the idea of receiving his help, and your enthusiasm is endearing.
It’s simply endearing all the way up until he has you sitting facing him on the picnic bench, kicking your little feet idly while you straddle it, staring at him with that little ‘o’ face of concentration as he deftly grinds the bud. You plant your hands between your spread legs, leaning forward and watching with rapt fascination as he begins to pack the green into the paper. Your bare knees press against the inside of his, soft and warm through the rips in his jeans; his eyes flick to the hem of your skirt, the way it’s barely long enough to poke out from the pooling of sweater fabric at your lap, and he adds a bonus pinch or two to the joint. It’s fat when he finishes rolling, pinching it between two callused fingers as he tilts to the side and tugs his zippo from his pocket. The lighter draws your gaze like a fluttering moth, your attention snared by the flickering flame, and Eddie finds himself staring at you for a moment before he blinks his fascination away.
“Okay.” Eddie speaks once the paper catches, and your eyes dart from the smoldering tip to his face, expectant and waiting. You’re close enough that he can see where your mascara has flaked a little onto your lids, and from this distance, your helplessness— how dependent you are on him, how sweet and open and utterly trusting you look— elicits a pang low in his belly. He swallows. “So, you’re gonna wanna keep the smoke in your mouth first, and then inhale. Not too deep though, or else you’ll cough it all out and waste it. Here, I’ll show you.” 
Eddie watches you watch him as his lips wrap around the end of the joint and he pulls from it, fairly shallowly compared to what he’d usually do. He drops his hand so you can see, lets his cheeks puff out so you won’t miss the way he’s collecting the smoke. 
And that look on your face is so entranced, Eddie feels suddenly powerful. His chest expands on the inhale, and he smirks at you, closed-mouthed and crooked as your eyes widen at how long he holds it before he lets it billow from his nose like a dragon. That delights you, and the rest of the smoke escapes Eddie’s mouth on a raspy chuckle at how simple it is to please you.
“It’s that easy?” you ask as he waves the lingering smoke away, clearing the space between you.
“‘S that easy, sweetheart,” Eddie confirms. And he finds it curious when you bite your lip, dragging your teeth along the gloss there in such a way that it has him wondering how sticky it must feel. “You ready to give it a try?”
You nod, head bouncing like a dashboard bobblehead, but when Eddie maneuvers the joint in his fingers and holds out the end for you to take, you hesitate, fidgeting and pulling at your sweater sleeves so they cover your fingers. 
“You want me to hold it for you?” Eddie guesses, and you nod again, meeting his gaze with a sweet little grateful smile that has his belly panging again, stirring with the barest amount of low, liquid heat. He reaches out, letting his hand hover at the side of your face, hesitating as he looks to you. “Can I—?”
“Yeah,” you say, your voice small and wispy in a way that isn’t helping with those stirrings he’s feeling. And your cheek is so smooth when he cups it in his hand, using the light grip to guide your face up and hold you steady for him as he brings the joint to your pouty lips. They brush Eddie’s thumb when they part for him to place the joint between them, sticking your flesh to his as you hesitantly pull the smoke into your mouth. 
“That’s it,” he rasps, merely wanting to encourage you, but you just won’t stop staring at him like that as he feeds you the hit. Like, shit, can you really blame him when the stirring creeps lower, down from his belly into his groin? Your cheeks puff up with smoke, and he can almost feel what it’d be like to see the outline of his dickhead poking out of one— all soft and slick inside, plush skin stretched tight around his—
Your hands are flapping in the air between you like you’re trying not to grab onto him, and when Eddie notices the distressed pinch between your brows, he pulls the joint hastily from between your lips. You look like a fucking chipmunk, your cheeks are so full, and Eddie realizes that as he’d zoned out thinking about his cock in your mouth, you just kept sucking and sucking ‘til you literally couldn’t anymore. 
Quickly, Eddie clutches the joint in his teeth to free his hands, gently cupping your full cheeks; sympathetic, patronizing, he says through it, “You didn’t have to— s’too much, honey, just blow a little out, okay?” 
Smoke eeks out from your pursed lips in a steady stream until he pats your face with his fingertips. “Okay, that’s enough,” he says hurriedly, lest you release the entire hit. Obedient to a fault, you are, and damn him for where his mind wanders with that information. “Now, slowly—” he tips his chin, widening his eyes for emphasis, “slowly breathe it in. Take it nice and easy.”
You do as he says, and his shoulders nearly sag with relief when you do it successfully. “Okay, hold it for a few,” he coaxes, dropping his hands and absentmindedly plucking the joint from between his teeth, watching you closely for any signs of difficulty. When you remain placid, a proud grin spreads over his face, and as the seconds tick on, you grow mutually excited, your lips pressed tight and your eyes all lit up as you look back at him. Pretty, he thinks, and then again when you finally let the breath go and smile radiantly.
“I did it!” you exclaim, drumming your sleeved hands on your thighs excitedly as you giggle.
“You did,” Eddie replies, warm and fond at the sight of your happiness and the part he played in it. He takes another hit of his own— quicker but deeper than his first— and inclines his head once he’s released it, flashing his brows encouragingly at you. “You wanna try it again?”
“Definitely,” you say, tipping your face up and leaning in expectantly. Your scent washes over him, something fruity maybe, and Eddie has to try hard not to lean further forward and drag his tongue across your lips, to pry them open and see if the inside of your mouth tastes as sweet as you smell. 
For a good while, you and Eddie trade hits back and forth, one for you for every two of his until the whites of your eyes go pink and your body loosens, unraveling upon the picnic table. You end up in a deep lean against the tabletop, your head propped in your hand, your breast squished against the wooden edge in such a way that even in that fuzzy near-shapeless sweater, the sight tantalizes him. Eddie’s feeling as high as you look, mirroring your posture with his knees spread wide, engulfing your shorter thighs in a dark frame of denim. He’s high enough that he doesn’t have that typical discomfort pinching in his chest at the silence between you, doesn’t feel the need to fill it by talking about whatever shit pops into his head. He’s consumed instead with sensation— the breeze ruffling his frizzy curls, tickling him with broken strands along his hairline; the dull crunch of old, nearly-rotted leaves under his sneakers; the hollow thrum of his pulse in his ears and the flow of living blood through his veins, cycling with each slow, rhythmic throb of his heart. And as he looks across at you— sweet, soft, sensual you — Eddie finds that since the high has his nerves all alight, he wants to touch your skin again, see how it feels now under his sensitized fingers.
The weed-haze brings with it a certain fond, almost nostalgic influence. It’s one that breaks down barriers, creates closeness where there wasn’t any, or magnifies it where there was. Your bodies are certainly closer now, sagging inward toward one another as you laze in mutual drug-induced comfort. Eddie’s used to feeling that influence, but you’re not, so when he reaches out and runs his finger down the back of your hand, you let out a small gasp at the contact. Startled, he jerks his dipping chin upright, bloodshot eyes darting to your face. But he finds no upset there, only surprise and shy pleasure painted across your features. So he plucks your hand from your lap, tugging it gently over to him and letting it rest on his thigh so he can satisfy his fascination with the texture of your skin. Your fingers twitch a little as he laces them with his, slowly dragging his fingertips through the gaps and then down your palm to your wrist. When his thumb comes back up to trace the outside of yours, you nudge into his touch, relaxing into the sensation with a languid sigh.
“Does it feel nice? The high,” he clarifies when you blink at him, droopy-lidded and wearing your little ‘o’ face. He keeps tracing along the valley of your thumb, dipping down and then back up along your index finger, enjoying the tickle of your skin against his calluses.
“Mm-hmm.” You smile, your eyes dropping to your joined hands. “Feels really nice. Kinda floaty, like my head’s not as heavy anymore.”
Eddie crooks a smile, humming his agreement. Lax and pliant, you let him continue to play with your fingers, and he’s suddenly hit with a potent impulsive urge to bring your limp hand to his mouth and nibble your fingertips, lick the smooth polish of your painted nails, suck your pinkie into his mouth and tease your skin with his tongue to see what sound you’d make. He doesn’t do that. But he does let his fingers snake under the sleeve of your fuzzy sweater, let them creep along your forearm up to the crease of your inner elbow. He drags his thumb in slow circles there, crawling around and around until he finds what he’s looking for: a sign that you feel the same stirring in your belly that he feels, revealed by the slightest whisper of a moan his touch pulls from your lips.
Encouraged, Eddie’s hands travel then— tugging out of your sleeve to smooth up your arm and over the dip of your shoulder; palming your neck, dragging up to your ear to cup around the base of your skull; ghosting across your ribcage and down to your hip; then sneaking just beneath the pleats of your tiny skirt, flexing against the hidden skin there. All the while, that liquid heat sloshes around in his belly, spreading low between his hips, dripping down to tighten in his balls and fill out his stiffening cock.
He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but eventually, you end up laid out on the rough wood bench, your legs dangling to either side of his head as he kneels before you, nosing at the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your sigh is a shuddery, eager thing when his teeth graze the lacy edge of your cotton panties, which to his delight are swallowed up a little by the plump of your pussy lips. “Can I take these off?” Eddie asks, forcedly casual and only slightly gritty as he tries to bite back his own rabid eagerness lest he scare you off with it. But you’re quick to say yes, so quick that it tells him you want this just as much as he does, and maybe even more, though he can scarcely believe that. 
The thought makes him cocky. He eases your panties down, deliberately slow to see if you’ll get impatient. Sure enough, you wiggle your hips, whining quietly to try to hurry him; the power your neediness gives him surges with his arousal as he feels just how damp the fabric is when he balls it in his fist. Hastily, he tucks your panties into his back pocket, his eyes locked on that sweet, swollen place between your legs. 
 "Aw, look’it her,” he croons, splaying his long fingers against your inner thighs to spread you more open for him. “Can't believe you been hiding her all this time under these little skirts you wear.” 
If you’re cute, your pussy is adorable— plump like a peach, wet and ripe and glistening as he presses into your slit with his thumbs and pulls your lips apart to see more of her. She yields easily for him, splitting with a sticky click to reveal your quivering hole and your fat clit already peeking coyly from its hood. “Oh, she's so pretty, baby,” Eddie praises, his mouth watering and his cock jerking in his tight jeans, stiffening further against his zipper. “And she’s so wet already. Bet I can make 'er spit for me." 
You coo, and he lifts his head to see you biting your lip through an eager grin. "Yeah? You excited for me to touch you?" Eddie chuckles, equally fond and condescending. "Aren’t you just a sweet little thing."
“R’you gonna eat my pussy, Eddie?” you ask, and the question is so dirty but your voice sounds so goddamn innocent that he can’t help but chuckle again, this time in disbelief. 
“Yeah, baby,” he rasps, palming himself quickly over his jeans to try to bring relief because his dick is suddenly so fucking hard it aches. “I’m gonna eat your pussy.”
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rosyblooom · 2 months
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all u need is a platform x | ln4 smau
PAIRING: lando norris x fem love island contestant!reader SUMMARY: y/n makes a one-off comment about lando norris being her type in a confessional, and the internet rolls with it all the way to lando norris' twitch stream. A/N: just bc i love me some love island 😌
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Love Island UK
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Twittter
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Twitch
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yourusername
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liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, yourfriend and 105,830 others
yourusername alright guys, public voting is open! go, go, go!! make sure to vote for the person you want off your screens, so don't vote for y/n!!! tell your friends, family, everyone! we don't wanna see our girl go home anytime soon!! thanks u guys đŸ„°đŸ„°
#LoveIsland
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username she's one of my favourite islandersđŸ«¶ stunning girl
landonorris so if we vote for her she comes OUT you say?👀
yourusername don't you daređŸ€Ł username LMAOO LANDO U BETTER NOT SABOTAGE💀💀
username ugh she's so annoying she needs to stfu🙄 hope she goes home on friday
username he's in the likes👀 ohhh the show's just getting started I see🍿
username I've voted babes! (not y/n of course)
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username I'm sry but I'm gonna have to vote for my girl y/n BUT HEAR ME OUT it's bc there's a better man by the name of lando out here for her I think 😃
username sooo valid (I'm doing the same lmao) landonorris 😊 yourusername uhm- you guys😭😭
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Love Island UK
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loveisland
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liked by yourbestfriend, _jackfowler_, landonorris and 176,488 others
loveisland The public has voted, and that means goodbye to this firecracker! 🧹👋 By the looks of it, it seems Y/N might not need to do much searching for fish in the sea though... 👀
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username ok lando pack it up, jack fowler is in the likesđŸ˜©
username ugh jack is so fineđŸ«Š username LMAO NOT TOO MUCH ON MY BBY LANDO NOW😭
landonorris 🐠
username lmaooo ENOUGH username help he's so real😭
username finally the bitch is gone
username uhm... chile anyways so
username ppl need to stop putting her up there with maura, amber and the lot cause she's absolutely nowhere close bffr. I rlly don't see the hype🙄
username she's literally the first to break 1 million followers lmao the hype is very much alive even if u don't wanna see it😌 username yeah and how many of those are lando fans hm? exactly username oooh u sound bitter babe xx
username lando and y/n better freaking date soon tho cause if I find out this was all in vain I'm literally gonna flip😭
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thesun
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liked by username, username, username and 46,037 others
tagged: landonorris, yourusername
thesun Popular ex-Love Island contestant, Y/N L/N, has arrived in the UK to a warm welcome at Heathrow Airport, where she was greeted by family, friends, and a horde of fans.
Speculation about a potential romance between her and the famous F1 driver, Lando Norris, has been rife on the internet for the past few weeks. Many believe this could be the reason for her sudden dumping from the island, as fans allegedly orchestrated her exit in hopes of pairing the two together.
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username lando can do so much better than some trashy reality tv star 😑
username i got a pic with her!! she was such a sweetheart❀
username im so excitedddd omg
username let's see what happens now then...😁
username 👀👀
username omg why are ppl still talking about her smh
username i voted for her so it better pay off🙏 i'm looking at u lando
username me and you both đŸ€
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: i'm backkk ] [ caption 2: cake bc there's 1.5 million of u guys here😭 AHHH TYSM đŸ«¶đŸ«¶ ]
[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]
yourusername
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liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, _jackfowler_ and 220,748 others
yourusername back in essex and straight to catching up with my lovelies xxx
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username lando norris dating announcement when 😃
username lmaooo her bed in the villa ain't even cold yet😭😭 username real! he should've picked her up from the airport smh chivalry is so dead😞
username telling you all about lando i hope
username and the fact that it's all lando's fault that you were voted off 😋 username LOL DON'T PIN THIS ON HIM NOW
landonorris welcome back y/n!
username loool what happened to ur free shoulders đŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł
username JACK FOWLER STAY TF BACK đŸ€șđŸ€șđŸ€ș we're team lando + y/n here!!!
username IKTR😌
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yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: don't need ur shoulders, just ur arms and car 😌 ]
[ tagged: landonorris ]
f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username and 14,026 others
f1gossipofficial Lando Norris has been spotted once again in the company of ex-Love Island contestant Y/N L/N, marking the fourth time in the past month the pair has been seen together in London. This time, fans observed them enjoying dinner together, appearing particularly close as they laughed and had their arms around each other.
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username real ones know y/n from the first ep of love islandđŸ˜ŒđŸ«¶
username I've been summonedđŸ«Ą
username love island is bottom of the barrel trash smh anyone who enters that show is a dumbass
username lol okay.... anyway they look cute togetherđŸ„°
username ahh u guys remember when y/n was in the villa and we'd all wait for lando's tweets during love islandđŸ„č those were the times
username i wanted them together but now it's like when you watch a film in the cinema and then reach its end like what now?đŸ§â€â™€ïž username fanpage babe. u make a fan page trust me x
username ew keep her away from landođŸ€ą
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tagged: landonorris
yourusername thank u love island đŸ€­
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username AHHH FINALLY IVE BEEN PRAYING FOR THISđŸ€©
username what do u wanna bet she only has 2 gcses🙄
username well that's a whole lot better than lando's 0 đŸ€Ł
username @/yourusername i need ur game card RIGHT NOW cause i want mason mount đŸ˜©
yourusername all u need is a platform x username brb gonna apply for love island nowđŸƒâ€â™€ïžđŸ’š
landonorris I think you missed a few spots baby
yourusername lol xxx username oh he's whipped lmaooo
username WHO VOTED Y/N OUT?? WE FUCKING DID ITTTT
username presentđŸ«Ą username the way we had a vision and look at us now😌 we love to see it username cheers to us masterminds đŸ»
whitbrownxs love you guys ❀
yourusername ly bby xxx
1:06 ──ㅇ────────── 4:11
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watermelonsugacry · 4 months
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harry's 30th birthday blurb with 1d!yn?! 👀
Birthday Surprises
SUMMARY: Harry celebrates his 19th and 30th birthday with the person he loves.
GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn, married!ynrry
Since 2010 masterlist
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Not to sound ungrateful, but Harry thinks that this was one of the worst birthday celebrations that he's ever had.
Tonight, he just wanted to spend his last year being a teenager having fun with friends—not be completely embarrassed and uncomfortable being strip teased and danced on by strippers. 
Not to mention that afterwards, One Direction’s management team had booked him to do a relationship stunt for the night. So as he walked out of the club and into his security team’s Range Rover, a tall, blonde model was by his side. As bad as it sounded, he couldn’t remember the girl’s name for the life of him. 
Nothing was going to happen with her anyways. All they had to do was a couple of paparazzi pictures of them together before they’re driven off into the night. The driver would discreetly drop her off at her own hotel before escorting Harry back to his. 
So there's not an ounce of uncertainty that when Harry comes out of the elevator, he's absolutely tired and wants nothing more than to be left alone.
He waves his card key in front of the lock and once he hears the little "beep" sound, he pushes the heavy door open.
His irritation and tiredness might have just peaked over its breaking point when he begins to hear rustling from inside. He’s already extremely worn out that he doesn’t even want to put in the effort into putting on a nice face to whoever’s inside his hotel room. But the smile that appears on his face is effortless when he sees YN flicking the wheel of the lighter over some birthday candles sticking out of a chocolate cake.
“Fucking fuck—oh, surprise!” She hops, extending her arms out beside her in what she hopes to look like a grand gesture.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re celebrating your birthday.” 
Anyone a mile away can tell how uncomfortable he was during the whole stripper fiasco. It sucked to have to stand off to the side, a faux smile on her face to see her bandmate in that type of situation. As much as she wanted to stay with him for the other “fun” festivities the night had to offer, she knew that she couldn’t let his birthday end the way it was heading. So she took the chance to leave the club a bit early and hoped that he would be up for one more celebratory, late night hang out.  
“But, but it’s already past midnight,” He blinks, still a little dumbfounded at the kind surprise before him.
"Oh come on, we only have—err—three, ah! Two more minutes until your birthday is officially over." YN pulls Harry over to the small dining table and sits him down in front of his freshly lit cake. It's then that he notices the shaky lettering on the cake that reads, “Happy Birthday Harry!” Letting him know that she went more out of her way for him than she initially let on. 
She comically clears her throat before beautifully yet quickly singing the infamous Happy Birthday song. The song isn't being yelled at to him by a big group of people, and the room isn't jam-packed with people he doesn't know. When he leans over to blow out his candles, he isn't fearful of hands going to the back of his head to stuff his face into the cake.
He doesn’t think twice about wrapping her up in his arms. He squeezes the tops of her shoulders tightly and she nestles into his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, “Thank you.”
The sentiment doesn't, can't go by unnoticed, but it doesn't seem totally out of the norm. This is Harry. A sweet and affectionate person whose love language is undoubtedly physical touch. If anything, it'd be YN feeling the one out of place in this situation. And maybe it was a change of heart towards her anti-touchy feelings or maybe it was because of his birthday. Either way, he's grateful for the way she's letting him hold her. If it were anyone else, she definitely wouldn't wrap her arms around his torso, humming at the warmth he brings.
"Well the night doesn’t have end here,” YN blinks up at him. As if they both realize their close proximity, they slowly pull away to give each other some space. “If you're still up for it and not too tuckered out, I rented that one stupid rom com you like. The one with the guy standing outside with the signs."
"Love Actually? I thought you didn't like that movie."
"Well to be fair, I actually have never seen it. But it’s your birthday and this is sort of part of my gift to you. You know, if you even wanna see it. If not, I can just fuck off and you can sleep because I know you probably had a pretty eventful day—”
She’s rambling. YN’s rambling—a quality she was never prone to particularly show, but it’s cute. He thinks she’s cute. 
“YN,” He chuckles, effectively cutting her off. “I’m down to watch it.”
“Really? Okay, cool. Because I already have the film on queue in the room so that would have been real fooking embarrassing.” Annnd she’s back.
He watches with curious eyes as she carefully slides the heavy cake plate onto her hands. 
She throws a nod towards the kitchenette, “Mind grabbing the forks.”
As much as Harry tries to resist it, he can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. He quickly grabs the two utensils before following behind her to the open bedroom. YN quite literally steps onto the foot of the bed before carefully sitting down, balancing the cake in her hands.
He sits down next to her, handing her the fork just as she begins the movie. They both dig their forks into the middle of the cake, taking out a chunk.
“Happy birthday, Harry,” She says, clicking the ends of their forks together. She happily hums at the delicious dessert but it quickly turns into a groan at the opening aong of the movie. “Ah not this stupid song again. I felt like this was all i was hearing just the other month.”
He’d be lying if he said he was watching more of the movie than her. His cheeks hurt from chuckling at her witty commentary and he tries not to make a big deal about the way she actually started to get into the film. So as he eats cake and spends the rest of the night with his best friend, he thinks that this might be the best birthday he’s had in a long time.
‱ 11 years later ●
YN stumbles through the front door as Harry cradles her in his arms, his mouth feverishly pressed to hers. They smile through their kisses, and he hums as she runs her finger through his growing curls. Harry kicks the door of their shared home behind him and blindly tosses the keys haphazardly in the general direction of the bowl by the door.
“Okay, okay,” YN pushes against his shoulders, finally getting a breath in, the pair still walking further into their home without separating. “So I know you said you didn't want any more presents—”
“Baby,” the grown man playfully whines. “You've already given me everything.” In all sincerity, she really has in his eyes. He’s been in love with the woman before him since they were sixteen. He wanted to be with her since their time in the band, through the making of their solo albums and everything in between. Even though it’s been a little over a year now, it still brings an explainable peace and warmth to his heart that she’s now his wife; not his friend with benefits, secret lovers, or merely a couple, but married.
And today couldn't have gone better. YN had the whole day planned. They started the day with lazy morning sex that turned into breakfast in bed. They spent the afternoon down by a secluded beach, having an impromptu dip in the water just before eating the lunch she packed for them. Then, after a plane ride to their private villa in Italy, they've just got back from having a beautiful dinner at his favorite restaurant.
“There's nothing more I could possibly want. Ooo, unless you're hiding some sexy lingerie under this fine ass dress you got here.” He says into her the crook of her neck, already sponging kisses onto her skin.
YN lets out a laugh, especially as his fingers begin to bunch up her silk dress. “No! Well, not no but—”
“So you do,” Harry says with excitement, the creases in his eyes appear when he hears her laughter. 
“Just hang on a sec. Your present is upstairs.”
“So I get to unwrap my last birthday present in the bedroom,” He teases her further. Her husband relishes in the way she lets out a girly squeal when he dips down and effortlessly lifts her over his shoulder to bring them into the master bedroom. 
 “Wait, wait,” She pushes as Harry plops them down on the bed, already trapping her underneath him. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Once she's managed to wiggle herself free (with great effort, no thanks to Harry) she scurries off to the connected bathroom.
He sits himself down on the bed, undoing the cuffs of his button up before rolling up his sleeves, preparing himself to see if wife in lacy undergarments that are only begging to be taken off by his teeth. Or torn off. Either one would work.
“H, close your eyes.” YN says from behind the door. “I mean it, no peeking.”
“Alright, alright.” He complies, already feeling a childlike sense of giddy anticipation. 
“Are they closed?”
“Yeah.”
“...are you sure?”
“Yes! For fuck sake’s woman. Being so mean on my birthday,” he laughs.
He feels the bed dip next to him before a kiss is pressed to his lips. Before he can bring his hands to her jaw to deepen the sweet kiss, he feels something being placed in his hands.
“Okay, open them,” she says against his lips.
He pulls back and sees a red box tied with a bow on top. 
“Lovie, you really shouldn't have.”
“Last one, I promise.”
Just to tease her, he brings the small box next to his head and shakes it slightly to hear the contents rattle inside.
YN makes a strategic move by placing one of her hands behind him so her thumb can twist at her rings, knowing that that's her dead giveaway for her nerves.
When he opens the lid, it's only then his face gets serious—lips slightly parted with soft eyes. On top of the pile of confetti lies a pregnancy test. The small, red plus line stares back at him clear as day.
“YN?” When he looks to his love, she begins to hold back her tears at the sight of his watery eyes and pink nose. “Is—wha—are you sure?”
“I took like five of them just to be sure,” she lets out a chuckle.
“We’re having a baby?” Words can't describe the warmth and happiness that fills her chest at his excitement. It's not like they haven't mentioned having kids before. It's been brought up a couple of times, most recently these past two years, but the timing was never right. They were always working; whether it be on making an album, working on themselves, and for the longest time, tour was their babies. But now that their 2 year world tours have ended and they've finally had time to go MIA for a couple of months, it didn't feel like a better time.
The couple wasn't setting up a schedule or anything technical to have a baby. Especially since going on their second honeymoon had been occupying their schedule right after touring was done, they decided that baby making would happen naturally. Whenever their baby decided to enter their lives, that would be the perfect time.
YN nods and before she can say the words to verbally confirm, he has her wrapped in his arms. Harry lifts her off the bed and gives her a little twirl.
As quickly as he picked her up, he's on his knees before her and puts a gentle hand on her tummy.
“Hi, bubba,” he says softly. YN beams at the sight, already wiping at the happy tears running down her cheeks. “I'm your daddy, and I love you so so much.”
After placing a gentle kiss on her stomach, he finally takes his wife's face in his hands and kisses her. It isn't rushed or filled with a sexual need. It's soft and filled with so much love and passion.
“We're gonna be parents, baby. You’re gonna make the best momma," he says sincerely, getting more emotional at the thought of holding a mini YN or a mini him in his arms in less than a year from now.
"And you're gonna make the best dad," she hums. He wraps his arms around the tops of her shoulders, pulling her close to him as she cuddles into him. He presses a kiss to her forehead and sniffs back his tears.
"I love you so much."
“i love you, baby. Happy birthday, Harry.”
.
.
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sukunasweetheart · 7 months
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đŸ‘€đŸ‘‰đŸŸđŸ‘ˆđŸŸ Sukuna x Reader ex's to lovers?
wowowow i cant believe im doing like another celebrity au again but here goes nothing ahaha...
i love this trope, i ended up writing a WHOLE, lengthy ass, detailed plotline on it i hope u dont mind <3 (A WHOLE WHOPPING 6K WORDS YALL)
prepare for hella angst, OOC sukuna, insecure fem!reader, ghosting, messy break up, conflicting and complicated feelings + sexual tension and then intense smut @ the end (make up sex)
imagine sukuna being like, an amateur model-turned-actor, with you being his highschool sweetheart, who was there to support him since day one
a very happy, fulfilling relationship for the most part-- until he starts gaining huge amounts of popularity.
youve always known that he was meant and born to reach sky-high levels of success, and you were certain he was going to make it one day
but things get rockier by the second, and insecurity is such an ugly, ugly thing
seeing him model with other beautiful celebrities, acting in roles where he had a love interest to kiss and fondle, reading those gossip scandal articles involving him and another party every few months or so-
it all got too much for you.
all you needed was some reassurance... but young and vivacious sukuna, drunk on this fame and attention, failed to recognise that and left you feeling neglected.
not on purpose tho, he's never engaged in infidelity, he's never gazed upon someone else with lust or love on his mind - he was using everyone around him as a stepping stone towards his own career
sukuna's known you since forever, and he was confident that you knew his affection for you was unwavering... so he failed to understand where you were coming from whenever you brought these things up
arguments after arguments after arguments
the worst part of it was that he wanted to keep his relationship with you a secret. saying something about how having a significant other would slow his progress in his career down... the decision was urged on by the entertainment company that he was in a contract with
it hurt so damn much when he was being interviewed on tv about his romantic life, only for him to tell the world he was single.
it leads to more arguing.
of course, as a rising celebrity, he was quite awfully busy with many business trips and attending a lot of parties and galas
another terrible fight occurred right before he had to leave for a flight overseas but by then, youd pretty much already decided that you were going to leave him
you basically ghosted him, packing all your belongings overnight, blocking his number and all his social media accounts, making sure even all yours and his mutual friends didn't know of your whereabouts. you're going to start fresh. and give him no closure.
it was petty revenge, and maybe immature of you, but you were just as young as he was, and you wanted him to hurt as badly as you were hurting back then.
sukuna's still overseas, having just come back from another fancy gathering and is fresh out of the shower, in his hotel room... he decides he's gonna try and give you a call, but ofc you don't pick up
he sighs and convinces himself that he'll sort things out with you later when he gets back, not knowing that there won't be a 'later'.
meanwhile you're dragging a suitcase out of the apartment, taking a taxi somewhere else far away, crying as you pass by giant billboards that have pictures of sukuna plastered all over
he feels like such a faraway person now. no longer someone who you used to cuddle closely in bed, or hold hands with. you're not even sure of who you are without him anymore.
you could imagine his reaction when he came home, only to find your entire existence missing. seriously, it was like you were never there. you left nothing of yours behind, and the place was cleaned spick and span, not a hair of yours to be found.
when was the last time sukuna felt so panicked?? this dull ache in his chest, as he spams you calls and texts that never reach you
he contacts mutual friends in rotation but everyone is absolutely clueless... he considers filing a missing persons case but then a trusted friend of yours tells him to not look for you... and that you wanted them to relay a message to him, just a simple goodbye.
what the fuck are you talking about?
oh, here comes a severe headache.
his mind is whirring with overlapping memories, thoughts, regrets, thinking about any clues that might give away where you couldve gone, but theres simply nothing
the shock moves into sorrow, then denial, and then it turns to anger. does he mean nothing to you? so much so that youd abandon him without saying a word?
its like he was going through the five stages of grief, but for someone who he knew was still alive..
eventually, he finds a rebound out of spite. if youve left him, then it's means he's free and single, right? he gets himself piss-drunk, and beds another, only to wake up feeling absolutely disgusted. it feels like... it feels like he's cheated on you. even though you're already gone. he's just a mess of conflicting emotions, and it lasts for so long.
the reason why he doesnt hire someone or use some other underhanded method to actually look for you is because of a weird mixture of both his pride and feelings of insecurity, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you do deserve someone better, someone who understands you more... (and he's also fearful that someone like you, might've already found love somewhere else, and he's definitely not confident that he'll be able to act maturely if he sees its true)
eventually, acceptance does come... but does it really?
i like to think he went through many failed relationships, his partners always leaving him upon witnessing him getting intoxicated and calling for none other than your name in his state. someone who no one around him knows anymore.
years pass, and time really does allow you to forget. for both you and sukuna alike. in your mid thirties, both of you are single at this time.
you've been busy with your new job at some company (dont ask me, i was too lazy to decide what kind, so u guys can make this one up bye), and he made sure to keep himself busy as well. no time for fleeting romance.
of course, until fate does that weird thing where it pushes people together again... a new project lands in your lap, where it involves some kind of collaboration with THE celebrity, ryomen sukuna. of fucking course.
you really did desperately try to get it off and pass this off to some other colleague but they insisted your involvement was necessary. what are you supposed to do? you almost decide to quit... but this job means a lot to you... you can't just throw everything away because of an ex... right?
and, oh my god, when the first meeting does happen, involving the celebrity himself, you and a couple other coworkers to discuss the project, sukuna sees you and his brain short circuits for a moment.
he starts doubting his own vision, and then he reminisces, in the middle of whatever the fuck everyone else was talking about during the meeting.
"... Mr. Ryomen?" one of the other participants ask.
he clears his throat, regains his composure and regathers his focus. he's an actor for god's sake. and he starts speaking, with thoughts of you in the back of his mind. about how much youve changed, but also remained exactly the same...
during introductions, you shake his hand and act professionally. his eye twitches. will you continue to pretend not to know him even afterwards? should he talk to you separately after this? no... doing that would mean he's the desperate one...
when you saw sukuna hesitating, part of you felt relieved. so you're not the only one getting freaked out. you don't expect him to acknowledge you anymore, though.
after the meeting, he walks out feeling confident that he's going to ignore you back, if this was the kind of game you're going to play with him. you mean nothing to him, just as he means nothing to you.
but he remembers the shock that went down his spine at the feeling of the warmth in your hand. he watches you take an elevator by yourself, and tries to make a split second decision on whether he wants to let you go, or if he wants to chase you down.
he probably shouldn't bother.
but he impulsively speed walks down towards you, anyway.
youre startled when the elevator doors are blocked from closing just at the last second, with someone's arm coming through between. your heart skips a beat seeing that it's none other than sukuna.
what is this sensation? this mix of fear and... excitement. you should be unperturbed. you're over him. he's someone from the past. you're buzzing with these feelings, but there also comes a creeping resentment that finds its way to you again, as you try to remember why you left him in the first place.
he unclicks whatever level you were heading to, and clicks on the highest level instead. he's gonna take you to the rooftop of the building, where he can confront you peacefully.
"Mr. Ryomen? Is there something wrong?" you ask him. still feigning ignorance. like salt to a wound. you know its another petty move from your part, but you can't help yourself.
"Don't call me that. You know damn well why I'm here," Sukuna drawls, sounding more sad than angry. they've really become strangers.
you grow silent, being hit with a pang of guilt. deep down, you knew you shouldve handled it more maturely than that. he deserved closure, and you needed it too. but isn't it too late for all that now?
the conversation flows tense, but unravels slowly. there's still a lot of questions being withheld though. he wants to ask you how youve been. were you able to sleep peacefully after you left him? why did you have to leave in the worst way possible?
a familiar headache creeps up.
simultaneously, the anger finds its way in his heart all over again. he knows he didn't do much good towards the end of their relationship either but ghosting him was plain disrespectful and childish.
you surprise him when you give a sudden heartfelt apology.
you tell him that you know apologising now after all these years is frankly almost meaningless but still, he didnt deserve to be left behind in that kind of way. you admit that you should've communicated with him properly that you were breaking up with him.
he's left kinda speechless, bc he was so ready to be all snarky to you after everything.. he's still mad, but he can't really say shit anymore without sounding like too much of an asshole.
truth be told, if you did stay around to tell him that you were breaking up with him beforehand, he probably wouldn't have let you go... where would you guys be now, if you never separated?
"i've always wanted to apologise. it's been weighing on me ever since i left."
...and yet, you didn't ever think to call or text him even once afterwards? he never changed his number in hopes for that, and he hates himself for it.
"i understand that you hate me now, but let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. and then we can part ways again."
that one pierces his heart, like a bullet. you haven't said anything technically wrong. he should hate you. or at least, he should feel indifferent by now. and yet... the way that you automatically assume so irks him badly.
"do you really believe that i hate you? aren't you the one that hates me?"
it's a stupid fucking question. what the fuck is he even saying? he wants to kick the elevator door.
"...i left because i thought you hated me, that you didn't need me anymore. and i tried to convince myself that i hated you too. but that couldn't be further from the truth. even now, i don't ha-"
before you can say any more, the elevator doors open, and a small group of employees are standing outside them, looking curiously in at you and sukuna. then, they realise who he is. they come flocking in, asking for autographs and pictures.
you quietly slip out of the crowd, and after giving one quick glance at sukuna, who visibly wants to pursue you again, you walk away to avoid gathering attention on yourself. wait-! dammit- he thinks.
he can't chase after you. he can't call out for you to stop. he can't push all of these people away. if he did, it will cause rumours and unfavourable articles to fly out. let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. his own fame becomes another obstacle between you and him.
back then, you were his whole world, yet somewhere along the path, he started to fail in making you feel like it.
he watches you take the fire exit towards the emergency stairs, while he's surrounded by overbearing fans who beg for his attention. you're going to have to walk down in your heels, all because of him. as he catches the final glimpse of you, as he's reluctantly dealing with his fans, he begins to understand, a little bit. he didn't want to understand why you decided to leave him. but he does now. a little.
a couple of stairwells down, you eventually pause for a moment and sit down on the last step to take a breather. you wipe your sweaty palms against your skirt. the familiar tug at your heart, in which your insecurities come flowing back to you, seeing him surrounded. you need to build higher, stronger walls around you from now.
when sukuna is done on his end, and sends them off down the elevator, he goes off to check down the stairs you went, but you've already booked it. slipped right through his fingers. you were about to say something important. with unresolved feelings, sukuna also takes the stairs down, with a heavy heart. each step down brings him another old, nostalgic memory of you to him.
from then on, the more he interacts with you during work-related matters, the more apparent it becomes that he still harbors feelings for you. he tries to ignore it, push it back down, but it only returns twice as overwhelming.
your voice. the way you smile. the scent of your perfume. exactly the same as back then. yet, he also observes the changes that have occurred in you; how you act, speak and the kinds of words you use, as well as seeing you in such a professional setting rather than personal - everything is coming together to allure him more, and he's in a state where he's unable to resist this attraction, but also unable to act on it, because he's not sure how you'd react to it.
he knows it's not just him getting drunk on nostalgia.
the next time he catches you alone, he makes sure to tell you that he doesn't hate you like you believe he does. you'd never admit it, but that gave you butterflies in your stomach.
in fact, everything sukuna does, even just locking eyes with you for a few seconds, is enough to make your heart rate increase, intensifying when he looks at you almost like... almost like he wants you. you must be imagining things.
he finds himself doing uncharacteristic deeds, like sending coffee for all the staff members. his manager passes them out to everybody, including you. he doesn't know if you still like your coffee the same way as he remembers, but he makes sure that yours is a little different, a little more specific than everyone else's, in hopes that you'll notice these small gestures of his.
over the course of the project, he inches closer to you, ever so slowly. but you don't seem to budge. even worse, you seem to be avoiding him as much as you possibly can. you avert your gaze from his. stagger away when he gets close.
he brings it up on one occasion, when he's able to approach you at the back of the building, where there's no one around, and no watchful eyes of a nosy audience. it's definitely frustrating and unpleasant- when he wants to speak with you, he has to keep distance in case another scandal rises. he doesn't want to drag you into the spotlight, without knowing if you're okay with it first.
sukuna only really talks to you when there's nobody around. maybe he's being considerate of you, but it gives you the impression that he doesn't want to be seen hanging around with you. it makes you remember things you don't want to. it makes you remember that being with him now requires a courage that you're not sure that you have. at the very least, you know you definitely didn't have it back then.
you keep conversations short with him, and try to leave. but he keeps at it persistently. what is he trying to do? is he toying with you?
"you're acting like you want us to get back together. don't do things that'll make me misunderstand," you tell him. you were trying to provoke him. expecting him to deny it harshly and back away, because you knew he was prideful- he'd never be caught being hung up over an ex.
"...and? what if i told you that i do want that? would you stop avoiding me then?" he takes one step forward, and you take one back, proving his point.
why is he pushing aside his ego for you? where did all his arrogance go off to? this isn't how the sukuna in his twenties would've responded. his answer makes you waver, and you don't appreciate that. you try not to show it.
"no. i'd only begin to avoid you even more. so don't start."
"i'm not," you deny, but your voice betrays you. he clings onto that.
"why? ...afraid that you'd cave in to me?"
like the way he's already pretty much caved in for you?
"you don't sound very convincing."
"...would you want someone who'd choose their career over you?"
that stops him in his tracks. he has nothing to say to that. because he did make that mistake. where he prioritised his job over your feelings.
"i don't hate or blame you for that anymore, sukuna. but you have to understand... i don't want to go through that pain ever again. i don't want to hold you back. we both deserve more compatible partners."
your own words sting yourself, and you try to go again right after saying that, because it's getting too much for you. his hand flies out to grab yours out of instinct, to stop you from leaving. leaving him again.
it's really not like him to be the clingy ex, pathetically begging to be taken back, but he's willing to throw such pride away if it means you'll be appeased. if you'll let him back into your life again.
"don't say that. you never held me back-- you were my home and my everything, and i was the one that started to take you for granted," he says gently, his low voice laced with sorrow, so uncharacteristically. you've only ever heard this kind of tone from him once before, and it was when his grandfather, who was like a parent to him, had passed away. his thumb brushes over your hand.
"give me another chance. this time i'll let the whole world know about us. about how much you mean to me."
he gets in close ever so slowly, and you let him, for only a moment, before gently pushing him away, with a hand on his chest.
sukuna hitches in a breath, heart sinking to his stomach. he wants to embrace you so, so, so bad. he needs your warmth. always has been. always will. but he sees that you're unrelenting, which breaks him.
"no, stop... i'm sorry, i can't."
you're still scared. you keep thinking about how lonely you felt when you were with him, at least right before the break up. seeing him laughing through the tv screen. alone in the living room. and all the arguments.
your hand slips out of his, and he lets you go. he feels empty when you walk away. hollow. the similar feeling he felt when you first left him, but less anguish and more despair. when he gets home, he tries to drink those feelings away. something he rarely does. old regrets and heartaches return, and he drinks until he passes out.
while he drinks, you weep. crying into your pillow, wondering if you're doing the right thing. wondering if this is how it's supposed to be. terrified of being with him again, but also terrified of losing him, like a hypocrite.
from then on, sukuna keeps a respectful distance from you... no longer trying to make approaches in secret, no longer pursuing you every chance he gets. but he still sends out coffee. even provides snacks to the crew. little do they know, they're the kinds of snacks that he knows you loved. hopefully, you still do. he'll keep his distance because it's what you want, but he wishes to keep doing these little things for you. subtly.
and you notice it, too. you have vivid memories of telling him about your favourites and preferences back then, and you recognise what he's trying to do. you drink the coffee. and you always grab a handful of the snacks. you do appreciate it. it makes you happy that he remembers. on a few occasions, you turn to look at him, only to witness him looking away at the last second.
it's not too long before the project is successfully finalised, and all their efforts have been rewarded. a celebration is due, and your boss throws a party at a fancy hotel for everyone to enjoy themselves at. sukuna had stopped going to so many gatherings and parties quite a while ago, but he attends knowing that you'll be there as well. he'll see you for the final time before he'll lose any excuses to be around you ever again. it'll be the final night.
you exchange a few words with him at the venue, but the two of you leave each other to mingle with other groups reluctantly, to avoid suspicion. both of you are quite tense all throughout the night, sipping on some wine to ease it, but it still doesn't relax the tension you feel, no matter how far away sukuna stands from you.
a few hours in, and you decide to excuse yourself early to head up into your designated hotel room. your boss covered the expenses for a night, and it would've been a waste to decline it, so you decided to stay. sukuna isn't around anywhere at the venue anymore, so you assume he's already left. you thought about saying farewell, but it didn't seem appropriate after you flat out rejected him. you still have doubts about the decision. because you miss him. but what's done is done, and you can't take back what you've already said.
however, getting to the hotel elevator, you notice he's standing there, with miraculous timing. you awkwardly "hey" him, and he says it back, hands in his pockets.
the two of you step inside when it arrives, and the thick tension remains.
"i'm surprised. i thought you'd be staying around longer for the party," you tell him.
he can't tell you that he found it unbearable, to see you hanging around other people, but being unable to get closer to you himself.
"i just got a bit tired," he lies. "did you have a lot to drink?"
"not at all. i had a few glasses, but i'm still sober."
"same here."
as the lift gets closer to your level, you get antsy, thinking about what to say before you leave, but your thoughts get interrupted when he asks you something abruptly.
"...can i walk you to your room? for the last time."
you swallow thickly on nothing, and feel how your chest aches at the words. last time.
"alright. sure," you say.
he wasn't expecting you to say yes, but he's glad you're letting him stay beside you a little longer. you're staring at the elevator doors, but he's looking at your face from the side. if only the lift would malfunction and stop, right here.
but it doesn't, and soon, he's really walking beside you as you get to your hotel room door, in silence. you unlock it using your key, and then that's it.
"thanks for walking me here," you say rather sheepishly. the thought of him wanting to spend even a few more seconds with you... your hold on the door knob is tight as you stand, face turned around to look at him. it's taking everything in you to stand your ground. last minute guilt and regrets are bombarding your thoughts, and...
"i'll say this now because i probably won't get another chance again," sukuna starts, looking directly into your eyes. his eyes are mellow, and he looks wistful.
"i'm sorry. i realised i never apologised, even though that's the first thing you did for me," he starts. he knows there's a mountain of reasons he is apologising for, but he decides he'll keep this short for your sake.
".. i can't lie to you and say that i wish for your happiness with someone else. 'm not that nice." you know it the best. and you understand, because you don't think you'd be able to withstand seeing him happy with someone else, either.
"find your happiness elsewhere, thanks," he grunts humorously. for god's sake. he's never been good at things like this. being heartfelt. at least it made you chuckle a bit. his expression of indignation melts away into a melancholic one again.
"i still love you." (always have, always will.)
you fight back sudden tears, and your throat begins to ache. sukuna unclenches his fist, and tries to relax himself more.
"and...i'll miss you," he breathes the phrase out. says it so quietly, like it hurts for him to say. (i don't want to let you go.)
something snaps within you and everything starts to scream at you to take everything back, and stop him from going away. don't go- don't go- don't go-
"...goodnight."
he notices your wet eyes, and he has to fight back against the urge to reach out and wipe it away. to rescind his farewell, and pull you into his arms again - forcefully, if he has to. he needs to leave, before he loses control.
you're panicking, and your vision is swimming, and you don't think you'll ever be happy again if you let him go like this-- you're gonna be heartbroken in the worst way imaginable. you want him back, and you know you're being unreasonable after turning him down like that, but you don't care anymore. you want to go against your fears. you want to try being with him again.
before you can stop yourself, your hand catches onto the hem of sukuna's sleeve, seconds before he takes another step away from you.
his eyes widen, and he looks at your grip on his sleeve, like he's checking to see if it's real, and he's not making this shit up in his mind. his heart beats impossibly fast. his hopes skyrocket. the world decided to have mercy on him.
"...you're being unfair, grabbing onto me like this. after i went through hell just now, trying to say goodbye." he's being awfully patient right now.
you don't respond, only silently weeping.
he waits to see if you'll let go, whether this was just an act out of a temporary fickle in your heart, but your grip remains tight, and you're now just looking up at him with tears rolling down, eyes glossy and desperate, pulling at his heart strings. you only let go when he comes back to you, not hesitant to brush his thumbs across your face now, wiping the wetness away.
"what do you want me to do? tell me, and i'll do it. leave? stay?" sukuna coos at you, like he's always done before, waiting patiently until you've calmed down enough to respond properly.
"i shouldn't... i shouldn't let you in. not after how much i'd pushed you away," you whisper. today was supposed to mark the end of it all.
he doesn't even give a fuck about that anymore. what matters is now.
"...but do you want to let me in?"
"...yes," you hic.
he takes a couple of steps forward, making you step back with him, his hand on your waist to make sure you don't trip on the way. he goes past the doorway and into your hotel room slowly. one- two- three- steps. he closes the door behind him quietly.
"and..? what next?" he asks in a low voice, standing close to you, one hand still remaining on your waist, and the other on your upperarm.
"i... i don't know. i just need you," you mumble, looking up at him, eyes red from crying and half-closed. your hands inch up along his back, grabbing handfuls of his suit jacket. sukuna hitches in a breath and something dark flashes across his eyes. they reflect his desire, his almost carnal desperation for you-
"forgive me. i don't think i can hold myself back, anymore."
he captures your lips in his, and groans shamelessly into you. you grip onto him tighter, heart beating so rambunctiously that you fear he can hear it too. it feels too good. the moment he reached you, it felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking in to complete a full picture.
you part your mouth, and he wastes no time in slipping his tongue inside, kissing you in the way he knows you love, in the way it makes your lips tingle, and, oh god, even after all these years, he still knows how to get you going like no other.
sukuna tastes the traces of wine on your tongue, and even better, he tastes you, the one he'd been missing and craving all this time, the warmth of your skin and touch, your scent, just everything about you, you, you.
he backs you towards the bed, without breaking this breathless, hungry kiss, where he softly lays you down, with him being above you, chest to chest, arms supporting his weight. he momentarily pulls away from you simply just to breathe, and the two of you gaze at each other for a hot second, full of love and lust, breaths overlapping one another. he attempts to ask you "do you still wanna continue?" just in case, but before he gets to say a word, you grab him by his tie and pull his lips to yours again, beginning to loosen it and take it off.
he understands that you want it, now. you successfully manage to untie it, somehow, with just willpower alone, and you start aiming for his buttons next, undoing them one by one. your actions send sparks down to all of his limbs, and he feels so fulfilled by your desire of him, being as intense as how he obsesses over you.
soon after you're done with it, he takes them off and chucks his own clothes away, rendering him half-naked. your hole clenches around nothing at the sight once he pulls away again, his firm muscles and the same old tattoos that you vividly remembered the patterns of. you greedily run your palms across his pecs, eyes turning to hearts. he smirks at you.
it's his turn now, and he doesn't hesitate to start undressing you as well. sukuna gets dizzy at the thought of being able to feast his eyes on your body. he dives in to keep kissing you, and then begins to unbutton you with such speed, it almost startles you.
it's off. your breasts are out in the open now, and sukuna has his fill with massaging them with his large hand, having missed them so much. his palm feels so hot, and your nipples pebble up at his touch, making you gasp into his mouth.
his kiss moves over to the side of your face, it glides down your neck, shoulders, and eventually reaches the swell of your chest. your fingers brush through the pink of his hair as he does so, and you purse your lips together, basking in the feeling of his warm kisses littering your skin. he leaves you hickeys-- the same shape and size and same locations as he used to even during your days in highschool, and you chuckle to yourself at the thought.
it's not long before he's loosening your skirt and slipping your undergarments down, getting rid of your slick-stained panties, much to his satisfaction. sukuna rubs a thumb over your aroused clit, and you whimper, having missed the touch of a man- his touch specifically.
"fuck... you're so wet.... all for me?" he asks, proceeding to slip two fingers into your weeping hole. you arch your back at the feeling, how his thick digits scissor inside of you and press up against a particularly lovely spot. he watches your every response as he does so, watching how you moan because of his touch, and how you're grabbing at his wrist because it's getting too intense. his cock prods uncomfortably against his pants. you're producing so much slick, and his fingers are getting absolutely drenched.
when he takes them out, you whine a little in disappointment.
"i know, i know. i'll give you something better," he whispers, kissing your cheek.
he unbuckles himself, and lowers his boxers to reveal his aching dick, tip wet with precum, veins bulging out the sides. looks the same as you remember. he pumps it a couple of times with his hand that's still covered with your slick, and he twitches. this isn't a dream, is it?
"oh god, please, i need it-" you plead, your hole feeling eager and empty.
"it's all yours," he mumbles. your begging makes him lightheaded as he lines himself up at your weeping cunt.
"i'm all yours."
when he sinks in deep to the hilt, you cry out at the fullness, as his tip pushes the spot inside you that had been feeling so lonely for years. your hands finds themselves against his back, feeling for his tight muscles.
"shit- 'm gonna lose my mind," sukuna groans as he gives a few shallow thrusts into you, cock so hard and throbbing wildly as your plush walls clamp on him and coats him with your arousal. he grabs one of your hands from his back and interlocks his fingers with yours against the mattress, before leaning down to bring his lips against the side of your neck.
"oh, thank god... thank god, you changed your mind. i love you. i would've been so fucking miserable without you, doll. for the rest of my life," he croons, breath fanning so close to your ear. you shudder at the tone of his voice, tearing up again, mixed with pleasure and relief, and you grab his hand tighter.
you turn your head a little more to the side, making it easier for sukuna to bite and suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, as his thrusts increase in speed, nudging your g-spot with every movement.
soon enough, he's bringing his attention back to your tongue, which he caresses with his own, nibbling on your lower lip, maintaining this same perfect pace in his thrusts that brings you closer to your orgasm.
"sukuna- i'm- i'm gonna-" you say breathlessly.
but he merely kisses you again, swallowing up any words you could say or moans you could let out, not minding the gasps and whimpers that you make.
sweat beads on his perfect body, and he makes out with you through your high, groaning back when he feels your walls flutter around him. he's close. even once you've finished cumming, he begins to pound into you quicker, wanting to get to his own orgasm. you claw at his back, crying out in pleasure, as sukuna's tongue lathers your jawline.
he wants to breed you so fucking bad. but no, that'll have to wait. he can't do something to jeopardize your trust in him. he'd rather die than endure another second of being distanced from you again.
right before he's pushed off the edge, sukuna pulls out and desperately jerks himself off above your stomach, panting as his cock throbs in his hand with every spurt that coats you, feeling so hot against your tummy.
you feel a twinge of disappointment, because you also wanted to feel that in your womb...
his dick twitches weakly after being spent, and he breathes heavily, liking the sight of you being covered in his seed for another time. (and many more from now.)
" 'kuna... it's a safe day for me today," you suggest to him without thinking. "i want it inside me..."
the phrase is enough to get heat pooling in his abdomen, and he feels himself get hard all over again.
"you sure, doll? if it's what you want, i'll..." he begins to say, almost flustered by your suggestion. you know you shouldn't say this next line, but it's so easy to get carried away with this man... get caught up in the heat of the moment.
"i want your babies so bad."
you've hit his switch. sukuna growls and puts you into a mating press instantaneously, making you squeak.
"no takebacks," he mutters dangerously, beginning the second round.
the night is long, but heavenly, as soon after he dumps everything he has into your womb, then proceeds to eat you out, making you cry for the third time before sunrise.
when you're awake, it's already heading past midday, and you're relieved to see that yesterday's happenings were not a dream, seeing as the large man is sleeping with an iron hold around your body, as if subconsciously afraid you'd leave him before he woke up again.
he awakens from his slumber to your light, feathery touches on his face, which puts him in a good mood from the moment he opens an eye. it was the scenario he's always dreamed of. waking up next to you, smiling.
there's much to talk about. about what's to come next, future plans, worries, and things they need to do to make amends for all the lost years between each other. but you decide to take things slow.
back to bullet points again bc im lazy to write it properly now
you spend the weekend w him at the hotel and stuff, just playing eating and sleeping, catching up yk
he tells you on his own accord that he wants to let everyone know that he's with you now, but he's worried that it'll bring backlash to you but you tell him you're going to be brave and take it, bc you WANT everyone to know
anyway prepare for turbulence
but everything'll be alright bc hes with you
im thinking about how mopey he'll be when you have to separate from him bc you each have your own homes rn, hes always asking you to come over or if he can come over to your place
and he'll be begging you to move in soon, like old times (he lives in a rich man house now tho)
and also thinking about how its a fresh start, but they also go through old memories and now reminiscing isnt painful anymore bc yall are back together
sukuna also says he's stopped doing romance genres in acting bc he had felt annoyed acting in lovey dovey scenes when his own love life used to be in shambles all the time
and bc hes at a point in his career where he has more choice in choosing between scripts that are offered to him, he's going to continue to decline the ones that have love interests, it doesnt affect him that much anyway
he's just being more considerate of your feelings now... and you promised him that you'll never just disappear like that again when you're upset haha...
sometimes when you still have a few disagreements with him, he keeps subtly checking up on you (hes traumatised, leave him be)
lots of facetiming when he has to go overseas for filming purposes <3
okay, thats all, bye <3
Masterlist
2K notes · View notes
tojisun · 7 months
Note
biker!simon is slowly rotting my brain and i’m all here for it !! the way you write him makes me want to giggle and kick my feet đŸ˜”â€đŸ’«đŸ«¶đŸŒ
so i just wanted to throw this idea out there
there was a tiktok video i saw (i couldn’t find it 😔) but it’s this couple on a bike and the backpack reaches forward and like
palms the the guy through his jeans and he holds her hand there for a sec and 👀 i just thought that fit for biker!simon
anyways !! love you and your writing
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AHHHHH THATS SO HOT WHAT THE HELLLL??? no yea reader def does that <33 also? luv how u call her backpack!!! its such a cute nickname omgg!!! and thank u so so much my starlight <33 i love you too!
biker!simon mlist // suggestive - minors dni!! hinted exhibitionism bc simon n reader are nastily in luv!
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you are simon’s good girl so, naturally, you usually don’t do this. but in your defence, it is dark outside, the roads empty except for sprinkles of other night riders that you two briefly share the road with.
it’s yet another late drive, you and simon having just left the meet up – easily one of the rowdiest you’ve ever been to. 
when you told simon how heedy you’re feeling from the buzzing energy, he laughed and told you that it’s even more packed this time because of the upcoming rally. you oohed and aahed, and simon fondly rolled his eyes at your obvious cluelessness before steering you past strangers to introduce you to his other friends – alejandro, rudy, and that one big guy who insists on being called konig. 
“nice to meet you katzchen,” he said, taking your arm up to bump it on the mouth of his helmet – something he never took off for the whole day. 
“nice to meet you too! although i didn’t quite catch that- what’s it that you said last?” 
konig’s eyes crinkled, his smile hidden by his helmet, before he let go of your hand and then disappeared into the masses.
what the fuck?
you turned to simon only to see him glaring at where konig used to stand. 
“si?”
“it’s nothin’, sweet girl. wanna come meet up with mactavish?”
simon slows down to a stop in front of a red light, one of his hands leaving his handlebar to reach back to your thigh. it is a routine at this point – simon’s hand caressing your leg, gently massaging, his thumb pressing into tensed muscle, before squeezing once, twice, three times, before pulling away to hold his handlebar again once the light turns green. 
it is a routine, but it still makes your heart jump to your throat, feeling the way his palm leaves burning trails at each glide. your arms tighten around his waist and you are sure that simon felt the way your breath hitched, but he continues on anyway – teasing touches gaining purpose, sliding up-down, before gripping whatever flesh he can. you bump your helmet to his back, a muffled whine sitting in the base of your throat, feeling your lungs wobble at his touch. 
then, he hikes his hand up higher – this is new, something simon has never done before. has never dared to try, especially on the open road.
he tickles his touch up, kneading your muscle until his hand bumps into the swell of your ass. he gives it a squeeze, just a quick pressure, then he rips his hand off now that the light turns green. he revs his bike as a warning – just enough that you tighten your arms around him again – before speeding away, acting like he didn’t just send heat coursing through your veins.
you feel his stomach contract, muscles moving underneath his shirt, and-
oh. 
simon’s laughing.
the haze in you shifts, snapping into something playful. teasing.
you wait until his silent chuckles dissipate, pretending to still be overtaken by his slyness and making him think that you are still unable to move on. well, perhaps there is truth to your lie because yes you are unable to move on, but you hope to hell he wouldn’t be able to as well.
he takes a right turn, his bike dipping close to the asphalt, the sound of his engine purring beautifully, and you think: this is it.
time to reward your big boy.
your touches start off slow. gradual. 
you loosen your arms around his waist, easing your gloved hands off from where they laid tangled together to plant the flat of your palms on simon’s stomach. you feel his abdomen jump, not anticipating the shift in your hold, and you bite on your bottom lip to smother a giggle. 
simon tilts his helmeted head, confused, but you ignore him, busy mapping the hard muscles of his abdomen with kitten-light swipes. one of your hands rises up to caress his chest, swiping a hand between his pecs before falling back to his belly. the other – and this one makes you breathless too – falls to his lap, rubbing at his thigh before swiping it towards his pelvis only to swipe it back out as though you weren’t close to cupping him through his jeans.
your chest vibrates with something guttural and it takes you a heartbeat to realize you were not the one emitting the sound. it was coming from simon, a sound so deep it reverberates between where the two of you are pressed.
the chuckles leave your lips this time around, unable to hold it in anymore. unconsciously, your hand grazes the half-formed tent underneath his jeans, and simon does that rumbling sound again that just heightens your elation.
you are still reeling over your mini revenge that you don’t notice simon taking a new turn, his bike roaring as it speeds through narrow roads and into a dimly-lit and certainly abandoned parking lot.
what-
“si?” you ask, confusion rising when simon turns his engine off before tapping your leg to signal you to get off.
you do, clamouring up, eyes wide as you watch simon follow. he pulls his helmet off and straps it on his bike before twisting his body to face you.
his eyes crinkle, glinting with something dangerous, and you know he’s grinning underneath his balaclava. desire shoots through your spine, realizing where he’s going with this.
simon laughs, seeing the way you straightened up, alert even when something carnal thrums within your veins.  
“that’s right, princess,” he rumbles, his voice thick with want, as he unbuckles his belt. “y’r gonna finish what y’started, aren’t you?”
you nod, already pulling your helmet off your head and wobbling towards him on weak knees. simon takes your helmet from you, his hands brushing against yours, and just before you can kneel down in front of him, simon coos, “knew you are my good girl.”
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blujayonthewing · 2 years
Text
we’re going camping this weekend, so if you don’t hear from me after, like, tomorrow afternoon then I’m actually being good about Getting Off That Damn Phone 👍
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jinkicake · 1 year
Note
HSHDHSHD HI AGAIN I JUST SAW UR CHILDE AND SCARAMOUCHE ARRANGE MARRIAGE POST AND I GO SJGNFNFNFNDNNFNDNG THE WAY U WRITE ARRANGE MARRIAGE TROPES>>>>>>/lh UR WRITTING IS SO GOOD!! I ALWAYS COMEBACK AND RE READ IT EVERYTIME AND I JUST REALIZED U ALSO WRITE FOR OBEY ME?! AND UR WRITING IS THE FIRST FEW ONES I'VE READ AFTER I JOIN THE OM FANDOM TOO?!👀💖💐
Ps. Would u mind if I request a 2nd part for the arrange marriage aus for the first fews chars (esp. Perrio👀) if nit they it's fine <33 thx u for creating such an amazing content!!💖💖
Forced / Arranged Marriage Trope
(pt. ??) Alhaitham, Dottore, Pierro, Zhongli x Reader
fem!reader bc I like the use of ‘wife’
A/N: hi anon!! thank you for being so patient w me and for being so sweet </333 T T i hope you like this~~ if you want me to do part2 for anyone else let me know!! I only did it for zhongli and pierro teehee bc i also wanted to add alhaitham and dottore (i hope that is alright~~)
WC - 3.2k
- yandere!dottore  // dottore is his own warning -
NSFW // LIGHT SMUT (pierro+zhongli)
~~~
Alhaitham
“I will be home after sundown, habibti." Alhaitham places a gentle hand on your shoulder after he stands up from his chair at the dining room table. He lowers his head with a slight dip of his neck to place a kiss on the crown of your hair. “Be good today.” 
And then he is gone. 
Months have passed since your husband began staying late after work. You don’t understand it in the slightest, he hates doing unnecessary tasks. The entire time you’ve known him, courting and beyond, Alhaitham has always spared time in his day for his interests. One day, he even told you that his favorite part of each day was settling down to read. He likes to live a carefree and relaxed lifestyle, so staying late in the Akademiya seems like the complete opposite of that. 
Regardless, you bear the weight of your suspicions and ignore it. 
You focus on being the docile wife you were advertised as and focus on your housework. In truth, your arranged marriage could not have gone any better. Despite your parents parading you around, you somehow found the most laid-back candidate who suited your needs to a t. Every night you thank the Lesser Lord Kusanali for such a kind husband, who lets you come and go as you please. You would have probably hired a hit on your parents, as opposed to never speaking with them again, if they married you away to a cruel man. 
However, housework only keeps you busy for so long and before you know it, it is ten am and you have finished everything that you wanted to do for the day. You could go bother your husband’s old roommate or have a meal with your friend but, you notice that Alhaitham left his lunch today. The neatly prepared and packed lunch is still sitting on the counter where you left it. He must have forgotten to grab it. 
With ignorance only Alhaitham could have installed in you, a result of keeping you in the dark for so long, you head toward the Akademiya. However, you regret it once you speak with his co-workers. 
“Alhaitham is not here today.”
“Your husband? He didn’t come in this morning,”
“I heard he was heading to Port Ormos after speaking with the Gauhar.”
Through your dejection, you braced a kind smile and thanked them all before heading back home. What could your husband possibly be going to the port for? He’s not a student anymore, there’s no reason for him to be going there. 
Unless someone else is there. 
You stubbornly try to shake that negative thought out of your head as you walk through the marketplace. As if Alhaitham would commit something of adultery, he doesn’t show interest in anything or anyone. 
Perhaps, you will have to speak about this with him when he returns home. 
Returning home that night was not something Alhaitham did. In fact, he did not return back to you for two nights and only appeared on the third morning of his disappearance. 
To say that you were upset would be an understatement and your husband was able to see it the second he walks in through the door. 
“(Y/N), I know I have been gone-”
“Where have you been?” You don’t give him the chance to begin with the sorry apologies as you cross your arms over your chest, you get straight to the point. 
“It was for the Akademiya, I cannot discuss the matters with you and you know this.” He sounds sincere enough, there’s a tiredness to his words that you can’t pinpoint. “I wanted to check in with you before I returned.”
“Check in with me?” You scoff and start to look at him as if he had grown three heads. “Check in with me before returning to your mistress?” 
“My mistress?” Alhaitham raises a subtle brow and keeps a straight face despite the amusement growing in his chest. 
“Why else have you been gone so long? Staying out so late? I’m not a fool and personally, I don’t care about who else you see.” You lie straight through your teeth, lie until you choke. Alhaitham sighs before stepping closer toward you. 
“I really cannot share the details of this assignment just yet, you have to believe me, habibti.” He gently cups your shoulders, giving the area a soft squeeze before soothingly running over the planes of your back. “Listen to me when I say that I would never think of betraying you so cruelly.” And, before you have a chance to react, Alhaitham lowers his face to brush his lips against your ear. Vulnerability spills through his every word. “Please do not act so indifferent about the matter of us, I want you to care as freely about me as I do you.”
Smoothly, his hand cups your face and tilts you his way. 
“No matter what thoughts you may come up with on your own, trust the logic that I love you.”
Dottore
“The Doctor will return from his mission sometime next week, perhaps during the beginning of the new moon-”
During the message personally delivered from your husband by a trusted subordinate, you can’t help but audibly groan. 
“Why must he ruin my entire week with his presence? Did he specifically plan to return on Monday? Why couldn’t he have come back the following Saturday or Sunday?” You place your pen down with great irritation and with it, the notebook you were writing in slams shut. The large Fatui soldier stares down at you, quite flabbergasted by your actions. At the lack of response from your maids, he continues. 
“Well, The Doctor wanted to spend some time with you before his next mission-”
“You’re kidding?” This time, you stand up and slam your palms against the strong wooden desk. Hatred and frustration flow through your veins, nearly choking you by your throat. “When you receive word that he is on his way, within a day away from me, then you will come back here and tell me. Understand?” You and your shorter frame could not nearly pose up to the Vanguard standing before you but, given the status of your esteemed husband, you can speak with him and any other solider of your choice however you want.
“Yes, my lady.” He offers a respectful bow before leaving your office and does not flinch under the intensity of your unwavering glare. 
“My day is ruined.” You hum and try to calm yourself down by rolling out your shoulders. Within an instant your close friends (the maids assigned to you by your beloved) are by your side, offering you their condolences and support. “We must prepare for the torture that his arrival is ensured to bring. Where are my earplugs?” 
Each day that follows, you work alongside other members of the house to prepare the cozy home that your husband chooses to reside in. Cozy is a cute way of describing it, this castle that hides within the mountains is anything but cozy. It’s large and empty but, you rather enjoy all the empty space that provides shelter when you’re hiding from your husband. 
In the midst of your breakfast later in the week, you’re interrupted by another announcement. 
“My lady, The Doctor will arrive-”
“What do you want?” You scowl and push your plate away, lowering your utensils before standing up from your chair. Now, just like your week and the ones that follow, your meal is ruined too. “I do not care when that wretched vermin will arrive. Tell me when he is here and leave me alone.”
“That is the thing, my lady, he is here early.” As one of the Legionaries beside the previous Vanguard steps to the side, your husband moves in front of you. He stands tall on the other side of the long dining room table and you have half a mind to sprint for the door. “I did not have time to issue the previous warning you asked for.”
“Warning? Is that how you speak of me when I am not around?” Dottore tilts his head slightly before slowly walking around the table. You try not to shake as he corners you, hands braced behind his back. “Oh? Where has your attitude gone? Down the drain with your fight?” 
He doesn’t have to remove his mask for you to see the sneer on his face, the anger that is sure to be littering his features. 
“Dear,” You nervously greet him, offering a pathetic smile that does little to hide your nerves. 
“Sweetheart,” He greets back just as gently but, you can see the tension in his shoulders. “I must confess that I was thinking we would spend time with one another before my next trip to Sumeru but, now I'm not so sure.” 
But? You mentally pray and pray to the Tsaritsa that he changes his mind and ditches you altogether, that he leaves you alone again for months on end. Anything would be better than facing his wrath. 
“I don’t think we need to see one another for a while.” He waits for you to let out the breath you were holding in, to sigh in relief, before gripping your jaw with his gloved hand. “I think it would only be fair since you’ll now be coming with me to Sumeru. We can spend the entire trip together, side by side. Finally, you’ll be able to see my work up close and not just from your timid frame in the lab doorway.”
You can’t hide the way your lip begins to quiver, eyes filling with tears. That is the last thing you would ever want. 
“Aren’t you excited, my wife? You must be since you’re near bursting into tears!” He mocks you until your soul breaks, until the farthest place you could ever be from him is no longer far enough. “If this is how you act when we are apart then, you will never be from my side ever again.”
Pierro
“You are a blessing,” Pierro murmurs lowly as his hands delicately sculpt your sides, gently he presses into your skin with his thick fingers. “a divine creation.” Like this, he worships you. His lips lightly trail between the valley of your breasts as he ascends up your body. “Hundreds of years have passed since I’ve felt this alive.”
Pierro slowly drags his lips up your throat and over your jaw to hover above your lips. His breath fans your chin, teasing you with his close proximity. He laughs when you tilt your chin in an attempt to kiss him, but it fails. 
Regardless of how you care for your husband outside of your shared bedroom, you always love him inside of it. 
“Please,” Your quiet voice sounds like a melody to the older man and he nearly sighs at the sweet tone. This is all he has ever desired, you wanting and yearning for him. He knows his words will never be enough to get this point across, ever.
With a light hand, the man brushes any lingering strands of your hair out of your face. He stares down at you with lust-filled eyes before cupping your jaw with his large palm. Subtly, Pierro tilts your face upward and meets your lips in a passionate kiss. As he presses his mouth against your own, applying just the correct amount of pressure, his thumb gently strokes your cheek. It’s a sweet kiss, one that leaves you breathless and wanting more. 
Before he can catch himself and reel in his self-restraint, Pierro cups your breast. Your arms loop around his neck, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders as he fondles and squeezes at your chest. The constant stimulation only makes you greedier for more and your hips create a mind of their own as you roll slowly upwards against his pelvis. 
“My wife,” Pierro groans, pulling away momentarily to catch his breath. His voice sounds shaky as he tries to fight back the overwhelming desire to just take you right now. “enough, before you make me do something I’ll regret.”
The first of the eleven Fatui harbingers thinks he has himself under control finally, that he will be able to continue but then you glance up at him. In your young eyes, mischief shines brighter than the life in his own. 
“It’s alright if I don’t regret it, don’t you think?” And then you kiss him once more. You yank roughly on his neck, catching him off guard, and pull him down again. 
The growl that leaves your husband is animalistic. His sharp reflexes snap at your wrist, pinning you effectively to the bed without much room to move. The kiss of his lips, once sweet, turns possessive and greedy as he presses you into submission. With little fight, you obediently fall right into his open palms with your lips parting at the slightest jut of his tongue. 
Skillful hips roll against your own, Pierro’s hard cock grinds into your clothed cunt and the sensation against your sensitive clit makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. When you start failing to kiss back, Pierro makes his attack. He squeezes your wrists and shoves his tongue into your mouth, swallowing and taking all that you will give him. Your thighs are beginning to burn against the stretch of being spread for his muscular waist but, the pain is dulled over at each slot of his hips. 
Your pitiful whimper pulls him from his conquest and Pierro remorsefully separates himself from your lips. 
“I need you,” Your whisper does not fall deaf on his ears, Pierro hears every single word. No matter how much you make fun of the older man, poking at his true age, he’s sharpened every one of his skills beyond their years. 
“I know, my beloved, I know what you need.” His hands make you sigh out loud as they run up and down your waist, breathy moans leave your lips. “Do you understand the affection that I hold for you? Are you aware of the effect you have on me?” Pierro closely watches your reaction, stares as you keep your eyes closed and don’t so much as flinch at his words. You simply hum and lay like a blessing against his sheets. Now, the older man lowers his lips to your stomach and presses his mouth into your skin. He gently creates a path to the band of your panties with each kiss getting heavier than the last. 
“One day, you will understand the true extent of my feelings.”
Zhongli
Lately, you’ve been worried about your husband. Your concerns are nothing new or anything revolutionary but, you can’t speak about it to your friends or others who are unaware of his godly status. To deal with the matter, you sought out the one person you could discuss the matter with, one of the people who know him better than you do. 
“I’m worried about Zhongli,” You sit patiently at the stone table, in your husband’s seat as you confess your inner feelings to the cloud retainer. 
“Zhongli?” The bird rolls her eyes, tasting the name on her tongue before it clicks. “Morax. What is there to be concerned about? Foolish girl, he adores you.” The cloud retainer raises a judgmental brow at your timidness as she pours you a cup of tea. She sits down with an elegance that makes you feel small in her presence. Still, you proceed. 
If any of the adeptus are going to listen to you, it’s her. If there is a single one that you can trust, it is her. 
“Isn’t that the problem?” Truthfully, you have been worried about the upcoming and unforeseen future. You’re always worried about it. Not that you will disappear soon but, mortal lives are nothing compared to that of an adeptus. How will he fare when you pass? How can you prepare him for it? “What will happen to him when I inevitably-”
The aged bird cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. 
“Speaking of such circumstances when they are nowhere in the near future will only come back to bite you.” Cloud retainer quietly sips at her drink, leaving a few moments of silence between the two of you before she sighs. “Fully cherish the time you have with him, that is the only piece of advice I can offer you.”
And that is as far as you go with her on the matter, the conversation was over.
Still, in your heart, you weren’t satisfied with the answer.
It continued to bug you even as you tried to ignore it, even as you tried to cherish the time you have with the immortal. 
“How are you today, my dear?” Every single day when he returns, Zhongli finds you and presses a delicate kiss on your cheek. It’s a kind gesture that always makes you melt into the palm of his hand. 
It also, more often than not, always leads to something else. Something more intimate. 
“Would you forgive me if I said that I missed you today,” Zhongli’s low voice fills your senses and clouds your mind, leaving you barely unable to think. Now pressed into the couch with your husband over top of you, protectively holding your thighs over his hips, all you can do is take everything that the god has to give you. “I’m often missing you when you are away.” 
His pure confessions make your gut twist in an uncomfortable way. 
“Will you be okay when I am no longer here?” You whisper, letting the words spill into his ears as you hide your face in his neck. 
Zhongli stops his movements. The gentle, smooth thrusts of his hips come to a standstill as his hands lower from your thighs. He places a palm beside your head and pulls back enough that he can look at you. 
“I will never be the same without you.” The raw emotion in his features and the distinct vulnerability in his eyes cause tears to well up in your eyes. “But, I will continue to live. Your memory will keep me alive until we can be reunited again.” His gentle touch comes up to wipe at your tears as his thumbs brush over your cheeks. “I don’t want you to be worried about that just yet, okay, my gem?”
Softly, Zhongli presses his lips against yours and it muffles the sob that leaves your lips. 
You tighten the grip that you have on his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin as your lips open for his tongue. 
“I love you, I will always love you forever.” He murmurs into your cheek before kissing over your eyelids. Smoothly, his hips pick up a slow pace once more and you gasp loudly. The sound makes your husband laugh, gently shaking as he presses his forehead against your own. “If I had my way, we would have met earlier and you would never part from my side.” 
In every touch, he portrays how much he loves you. There is an ‘I love you’ in the press of his fingers against your hips. There is an ‘I love you’ in the skillful roll of your hips and there is an ‘I love you’ in the gentle kiss of his lips. 
Yes, Zhongli is sure he will always love you. Even through grief and mourning, he will never forget the feeling of loving you. 
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daedelweiss · 1 year
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“LIFE MISSION: SAVE MY BROTHERS” 💖 The Red Knight’s Mission (Episode 1: The Buried Memory Page 28-41)
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and, finally, the last set for this episode. this was actually harder to get through compared to the rest of the sets, physically and emotionally 😭 drawing leo grieving broke me and i cried like a baby sketching that panel. i wish i could add more panels in but i didn't want to drag out the comic too long and give myself too much work. it was supposed to play out similarly to "E-Turtle Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" where leo's memories pushed back against him to avoid painful memories but i feel like that would've destroyed the vibe and somberness of the softer moments. plus it'll make the episode much MUCH longer. also leo didn't actually lose the colors of his scarf. it was more for symbolic reasons. and if the last panel of page 35 looks familiar, i took inspiration from the movie and imitated the expression mikey had when he tried to open the portal for the third time to save leo. (no, i did not trace it) it may or may not be foreshadowing for later đŸ€­ and yeah, the comic will be taking a hiatus

. to make more of the comic 😂 dw it's not for mental health or personal life reasons
 actually it's partly that because i have an upcoming VISA interview 😭 bUT i'll still be making LM stuff behind the scenes, dw >:3 next episode won't be as drama or action packed as this one but
 we will meet raph for the first time 👀 i'm really rEALLY excited to work more on the comic, and that's TWO reallys! i just hope y'all will be patient with me because it is no easy feat working on this. i love it but i'm only one person, after all 😄 thank you so so much for supporting this comic again! comments and shares are very much appreciated! 💖 BEGINNING / PREV / NEXT EPISODE (coming this april) ‱
( 🌿 please do NOT repost, edit, trace, use, and/or sell 🌿 )
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milf-murdock · 1 month
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Safety First
(AKA: The one where Simon views “the law” as a relative term when it comes to your safety)
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Reader 
Summary: After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it. Warnings: potential break-in scenario described, protective Simon to the rescue, use of a firearm, descriptive use of firearm, smut (I promise there is a plot here though it just
.devolved into smut because I have no self control), P in V, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, sliiiiiiight breeding kink, praise kink (really exposed myself with the number of “good girls” here👀), no mask Simon because civilian life, mate 😌  A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. It just seems so very “Simon” to me. He would have exactly 1 (one) incident where he gets scared shitless that something has happened to you, and he would pull every last goddamn string necessary to get your trained up on a handgun to make sure you can defend yourself always, even when he’s not there. Personal firearms are very much illegal in the UK but you can’t tell me the 141 boys aren’t packing at home. Simon Riley?? Leaving weapons behind?? Be so fucking for real.
Your grip on the shopping falters, nearly dropping the heavy container of milk. Your body freezes as you take in the sight before you, immediately on high alert. The front door stands ajar.
Someone’s broke in, your anxieties speak for themself. Images flash in your mind at a rapid pace, escalating in concern: men ransacking through your things, hiding out, waiting for you, strong foreign hands on your body—your shaking hands have your boyfriend’s number dialed before your imagination dares to unfold any further. You drop the shop bags on the floor, backing away from the door and down the hall of your complex.
“Hey—“ the deep  familiar baritone is immediately cut off by your sobs. 
“Si-Simon?” You choke out his name between your gasping breaths. You try to steel yourself, but the tears have already started.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Simon’s voice instantly hardens, shifting to one of action. 
The tears are relentless now, and you try to force them at bay to respond. 
“Answer me, love, are you hurt?” Simon’s voice raises ever so slightly in pitch. 
“N-not hurt,” you gasp out. “It’s my flat. The door’s open. I know I locked it—at least I think I locked it, I went to the shop, I needed more milk, remember? I was only out for a bit—“
“Breathe, babe. Breathe.” You can hear the jingle of keys in the background of the call. “Listen to me very carefully, love. You turn around right now and get back in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.” 
You sniff, thankful the tears seem to have finally subsided. You’re already put slightly more at ease knowing Simon is on his way. “Okay,” your voice waivers. “I can do that.” 
“‘Course you can. Now stay on the line with me until you get to your car.” You hear his car door slam in the background. 
__________________
Simon turns the 20 minute drive to 7. 
His sharp tap on your window startles you, sending your heart racing once again. 
“Stay ‘ere, love. Be right back.” Simon’s voice is muffled through the window, but you nod in response. 
Simon makes his way up the stairs to your flat, pulling his concealed weapon to his side and subtly shifting the safety off. The heavy weight of the cold metal is familiar as he cocks the weapon, preparing for a sweep. The motion is as natural as breathing for him. He gently toes open the door, immediately pulling his weapon at attention as he scans the room for threats. “Clear” Simon thinks to himself. Some habits are too deeply engrained. 
He makes his way through your flat, thoroughly checking for anything amiss. Once he’s satisfied that everything looks clear, he disarms the weapon, clearing the loaded round from the chamber and clicking the safety back on. The gun gets tucked back safely against his body, concealed from sight as he makes his way back out to your car. 
Simon gives you a brief nod, signaling all was clear. At that sign, you fling the car door open and throw yourself out of the car, instinctually trusting those strong arms to catch you. 
The moment your face is buried in the broad expanse of his chest, his familiar scent hitting you like a freight train, the tears well up once more. 
“S-sorry, I was just so freaked out,” you stutter, unsure if Simon could even understand you with your face pressed against him, but unwilling to untangle yourself even a bit. 
“Shh, it’s alright swee’art,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “I scoped out the whole place. It’s clean.” 
He could feel the relief in your body as you took in his words. 
“You sure you locked the place up, babe?” Simon treads lightly, not wanting to upset you further. “It didn’t look like anybody had been in. Could’ve just been a draft knocking the door open if it wasn’t shut and lcked properly.” 
You pulled your head back from Simon’s chest, fumbling with the edge of your jumper to gently wipe the tears and snot from your face, sniffling. 
“I’m sure I locked it.” You pause for a moment. Well, at least you think you’re sure. You think back to when you left your flat, hands juggling your keys, your purse, distracted by your neighbor and his adorably fluffy Pomeranian who were leaving at the same time. Mr. Darcy immediately demanded your attention, of course, and who were you to deny him all the fluff-filled pets his heart desired? Embarrassment curdles in your stomach, a heat creeping up into your cheeks. 
“Well, maybe not absolutely sure
” you correct yourself. “I think I did, but Mr. Darcy was out, and I got distracted, and I just needed some milk for my tea, and I—“ 
Simon took you back in his arms, cutting off your monologue. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy, you said?” He knows your fondness for the small Pomeranian well, especially after the last time you dog sat for them and insisted Simon make friends with the blasted pup. “That would explain it.” 
“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” you sigh, shame replacing the fear. “I shouldn’t have called you.” 
“Oi-“ Simon is quick to cut you off. His strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You did the exact right thing. Any time something feels off, got a bad feeling from some bloke at the pub, walking out by yourself in the dark, I don’t care what it is or when it is—you call me. Understood?” 
“Understood.” You sniffle once more. 
“Let’s get back inside and get you that cuppa,” Simon soothes, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he guides you back inside your flat. He stops to grab the forgotten shop bags off the floor with one hand. 
__________________
You two are getting ready for bed, having convinced Simon to spend the night—not that it took much convincing. Simon watches as you parade around the bedroom in one of his oversized t-shirts, toothbrush in your mouth as you walked around getting ready for bed. It’s in these little moments he realizes how truly in deep he is. He’d give his left fucking arm to have this view daily. 
“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” you quip, exiting the bathroom and sliding into bed next to him. “And for agreeing to stay the night.”
“‘Course, love.” Simon opens his arm and lets you get into your designated spot, head on his chest, leg tangled over his, hand resting on his stomach. “Woulda probably stayed the night anyways.” 
“Yeah, but still
” you let out a sigh as you settle in, curving your body against his. The warmth of his body heat warms your chilled frame. 
“I was so scared.” Your voice is a whisper in the dark. “I just kept imagining the worst possible scenario. What if I was home? Alone? And someone did break in? What if you weren’t here? What if you were overseas?” Your breath hitches and your heart rate picks up again. Simon resumes rubbing soothing circles across your back. 
“I just felt so helpless. So defenseless.” 
“You’re okay.” His voice was low, steady. “Everything worked out okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.” 
Between the repetitive soothing motion of Simon’s strong hand against your back and the steady rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat, sleep soon found you despite your fears. 
As your breaths evened out, Simon’s own mind starts swirling with dark thoughts. The what if’s find purchase in his brain and he subconsciously pulls your sleeping form even closer to him.  
You were right, of course. He couldn’t always be here. He had to find some way to make sure you could take care of yourself, to make sure you could defend yourself. He had to know you were always taken care of, no matter where he was. 
Of course he had already walked you through the basics of self defense. You had a decent right hook, and he more than appreciated the opportunity to teach you a few other moves that had the two of you sprawled on the floor of your sitting room, sofa pushed up against the wall to create enough space. If his memory served him correctly, that particular little sparring session had resulted in an entirely different from of
wrestling.
But none of it was enough to put his mind at ease. Simon knows that if someone truly meant to do you harm, someone from his line of work
all the moves in the world wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t want you getting close enough for that kind of combat anyways.There was only one thing that could make him feel even a modicum of peace. 
Simon was going to teach you to shoot. 
______________
That weekend, Simon woke you up bright and early, claiming to have a surprise date for you. 
“Oooh, what is it?” You’re nearly bouncing with excitement in the kitchen chair as Simon hands you your breakfast. 
“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?” 
“Fair point,” you mumble around a mouth full of toast. 
“Let’s just say it’ll make us both feel better.” Simon takes a sip from his mug. 
__________________
You gazed out the window, the rising sun casting the military base in a warm glow. Simon had never brought you here before, had always hidden this part of his life away from you. You try to drink in as much detail as you can, driven by curiosity at this mysterious part of his life. 
Simon pulls the car as close to the shooting range as he could. Despite the base being mostly deserted this weekend, he was still taking every precaution necessary to ensure he was limiting your exposure to this area of his life as much as he could. 
With the car parked, Simon makes his way to your side of the car, his large, protective form shielding you from any prying eyes. He feels particularly exposed without his mask, but it’s a short walk to the range and he trusts that Price has held up his end of the bargain to keep this particular area abandoned this morning. His hand finds its way to the small of your back and guides you inside the range. 
The smell of gunpowder immediately filled your nostrils. There was always a lingering scent on Simon when he came home, but nothing quite as affronting as this. 
As promised, the range was completely cleared out, and Simon made a mental note to personally thank Price for his help. 
“What’re we doing here, Si?” Your voice piqued with curiosity. 
“Well, we’re teaching you how to shoot, o’ course.” 
“But why? It’s not like I’d ever have access to anything like that. S’not legal.” 
“About that.” Simon made his way to an area of the range that housed the standard weapons that were available for practice. He trusted that Price followed through on one other crucial part of this deal. 
Sure enough, a small compact handgun was nestled amongst the other array of firearms. 
Simon grabbed it, testing its weight in his hand before making his way back to you. 
“Listen to me very carefully, love,” his tone shifted, dripping with sincerity, and a touch of his natural commanding energy. 
You immediately sober up, looking at him with your full attention as if to show how good a listener you were. 
“This is for emergencies only. It stays hidden always. No one knows you have this. No one knows this even exists. It’s very important you understand that.” 
“But how did you—? Should I even—?”
“Mm-no questions. Just—“ Simon lets out an exasperated sigh. 
“Just trust me. I need to make sure you’re safe. ‘Specially after that little scare earlier this week.” 
You nod your head solemnly. “I understand, Si.” 
“Good. Then let’s get after it.” 
He guides you over to a stall and places your gun on the countertop as you assess your surroundings. There’s five lanes in this section of the range, each separated by stalls with an open range ahead. You can make out five faux targets at the end of the lane, but they seem impossibly far. Surely no-one can actually make that shot, you think to yourself. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Ghost steps up to you and places a pair of bulky earmuffs over your head. “These’ll help protect your ears while we practice,” he says as he adjusts them to fit snugly against your ears. 
“Don’t you need some?” Your voice is raised to compensate for your dulled auditory senses. 
Simon chuckles in response. “I’ll be alright. M’used to it.” 
“Now go pick it up,” he gestures towards the gun. “Safety’s on so don’t worry. It won’t bite.” 
Reality sinks in as you step forward and reach for the weapon. It’s lighter than you expected, but there’s a heftiness there that doesn’t have anything to do with the weight of the object itself. You test the feel of it in your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen in movies. 
“Good,” Ghost murmurs, stepping up behind you. He’s close enough now that you can feel him pressing up against your back. Two strong arms encase your frame as he leans forward and places his hands over yours. His large hands manage to make the weapon, and your hands, look even smaller. “Hold it like this.” He adjusts your grip just slightly. “Atta girl.” 
His thumb guides your own along the edge of the handle until you reach a firm button on the side. “Here’s the safety. You can tell it’s on when this red button is sticking out. See that, yeah?” 
You nod your head but it’s taking every ounce of energy you have to focus on his words and not the feeling of Simon’s hard body pressed against your back, his hot breath sending a chill down your neck, and the look of his large hands dwarfing your own—
“Oi. Pay attention. This is important.” 
You mentally scold yourself and refocus, adjusting your grip. “Okay, so the safety’s on?”
“Yes. Press it in to turn it off.”  You do as he says, the click instantly elevating your senses. Did the gun get heavier? 
“Now, pull back the top like this to,” he motions pulling back the barrel. “That’ll load the bullet into the chamber. It should already have a round in there, but we’ll get you some more ammo before we leave. Go ahead, cock it.” 
You can’t help the snort that escapes you. “Cock it, eh?” You turn your head to waggle your eyebrows at him. 
“Behave,” Simon warns, turning your chin to face forward. 
It takes more power than you expected to pull the barrel back, but the reaffirming click lets you know that something did indeed happen inside. 
“Alright, she’s loaded now.” 
“Okay
” you hesitate, waiting for further instructions. “Now what?”
“Now you point and shoot.” 
“At what?”
“See that fella at the end there? Aim for his head.” Simon gestures to the paper dummy hanging at the end of the alley. 
“All the way down there? There’s no way anybody could hit that!” You protest. 
Simon sighs, resigned, and flicks a small toggle on the countertop, triggering the electric pulley system that pulls the paper dummy closer to you, stopping it about halfway down the track. 
“Better?” 
“Only one way to find out,” you mutter, adjusting your position and taking aim. 
With a centering inhale, you close one eye, aim as best you can, and pull the trigger. 
The shot rings out louder than you thought possible, even with the ear protection. The force of the shot thrusts you backwards into Simon’s sturdy frame. Gun powder fills your nostrils even stronger than before. Your heart races as you look ahead to see

You’ve miss the target completely. 
 “S’alright, love, wasn’t too terrible for your first shot,” Simon consoles. 
“Here, move your foot,” he gently taps the inside of your foot with his toes, and you spread into a wider stance. “Good, now straighten up those shoulders. Don’t worry about cocking it yet, let’s get the position right.” 
You do as he says, pulling the gun up once more to eye level. 
“Give your elbows a bit more bend. You want to hold it tight, but be loose enough for the recoil so it won’t knock you on your arse.”
“How’s that?” You ask, loosening your shoulders and relaxing your arms just slightly. 
“Looks good to me. Go ahead and cock ‘er.” 
You pull the barrel once more and ready yourself to take another shot. 
“Deep breathe,” Simon reminds you. “Now I want you to keep both eyes open, and look at where you’re directing your shot. You want to aim just slightly above your target. Gravity will pull the bullet down a bit from this distance.” 
You try your best to keep all these factors in your mind as you take your aim. 
A deep inhale and you brace yourself as you pull the trigger. 
This time you have a better idea of what to expect, and you move your upper body with the recoil, feeling more stable.  
“Did I do it? Did I hit it?” The excitement radiates in your voice as you eagerly lean over the table to get a better look. 
Simon can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, so at odds with what he usually sees in this environment. “Let’s take a look,” he says as he presses the toggle and the motorized target moves closer. As it gets within range you see a clear, definitive hole in his upper right chest. “I got him!” You exclaim, jumping up and down. 
“Easy there, love,” Simon scolds halfheartedly as he leans over you and clicks the safety into place. 
You set the gun on the counter and turn to throw your hands around Simon’s neck, laughing. “I did it, Si!” 
You laughter is contagious and Simon’s own chuckle is music to your ears as his strong arms lift you up on your tiptoes. “Yeah, you sure did, babe.” 
And then his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and passionate, setting your body ablaze. He deepens the kiss for a final moment before setting you back on your feet and pulling away, leaving you breathless. 
“Damn,” the curse falls from your lips as you try to catch your breath, feeling just a tad lightheaded. 
“Right,” Simon clears his throat, trying to get the run of himself once more. He not-so-subtly adjusts his trousers bringing a satisfying smirk to your lips before turning you back around. 
“Let’s get some more practice in.” His voice is resolute, but the bulging erection currently pressing into your backside says differently as he sends the target back to the middle of the range. 
You pick up the gun once more, already feeling more comfortable with it, and adjust your stance to set up for another shot. Simon reaches up and corrects your aim just slightly, and you take the opportunity to lean back into him, ass rubbing against his hardened cock.
“I said behave,” Simon groans aloud, but you can feel his hips thrust ever so slightly in response. 
You fire off another shot, reloading and firing two more times. The thrill of each shot sends a jolt of electricity through you. You feel in control. Not helpless. Not defenseless. No, you feel
powerful. 
Simon swears his cock couldn’t get any harder. He had brought you here with the express purpose of teaching you to defend yourself when he wasn’t there. How could he possibly have anticipated just how fucking turned on he’d get watching you fire that weapon. 
Your confidence grows with each shot, your stance already self-assured. You look like a badass. And right now, it is taking every last goddamn bit of strength and willpower for Simon to stop himself from taking you right then and there. 
Finally, the gun gives a satisfying click, signifying the end of your rounds.  
“Phew,” you exhale with a chuckle. “That was an absolute thrill.” Clicking the safety back in place, you set the gun down and turn to face Simon. 
The wide smile on your face, bright as the morning sun, it takes his breath away. He can’t hold back a second longer. His lips crash against yours, large hands settling on your hips, pushing you back against the countertop. He doesn’t dare break the kiss as his meaty hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh before lifting you up with a grunt to set you on the countertop. 
“Si!” Your exclamations drown in another breath-stealing kiss as Simon slots himself between your legs. 
Simon bites back a groan as he grinds his erection against your core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 
Deft fingers undo the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up, allowing him to pull down your trousers and knickers in one swoop. 
You let out a hiss as the cool countertop meets your bare ass, but the sensation is lost among more exciting sensations as Simon gets on his knees before you. Thank god for his height—even with you seated on the countertop he’s at the perfect height. 
“Bloody perfection,” Simon eyes your bare cunt, eyes full of wanton need. 
His comment brings heat to your cheek, intensified by his playful nips and kisses placed along your inner thighs. 
He kisses higher and higher, exciting you with every soft kiss, before skipping right over where you truly need him, moving to the other thigh. 
You let out an exasperated groan. “Quit teasing, Si.” 
His brown eyes shoot to yours, giving you a look—how dare you order him around. He has half a mind to punish you right here and now, but the scent of your dripping cunt hits his nose and his mouth waters on instinct. He places one more kiss to your thigh before acquiescing and a moving to your core. 
Words escape you as he laps at your heat, eating like a man starved. Fingers tangle in his dark blonde locks, hips rising off the cool countertop to meet him. 
Simon’s strong hands slide up your legs, gripping your hips and forcing you back down on the counter, tongue driving deeper between your folds, relishing in your gasps of pleasure. 
His tongue slides up your sweet folds, savoring every drop, until he reaches your puffy clit. This is when Simon slows it down, takes his time. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending shivers up your spine. He continues teasing you like this, your legs shaking until you’re not sure how much more you can take. 
His eyes are wide open, locked on your squirming form. While shooting that firearm gave you a sense of power, this is what gives Simon his sense of power—watching you come undone by him, his tongue, his actions alone sending you into this frenzied state. His right hand slides from your hip to your inner thigh before sliding inside you. He curls his fingers expertly, hitting that spongey spot inside you, making you see stars. He takes your clit into his moth, suckling at the swollen nub, fingers fucking you hard, preparing you for his cock. He releases your clit with an audible pop, his voice breathy and low. 
“You’re gonna come for me right now. Just like this. On my fingers. Understood?” 
You’re past caring. You’re past words. But somehow you manage out a breathy “Yes, yes, Si, just let me— I’m gonna—“ his tongue is back on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot just so and you’re toppling over the edge, body going rigid. Simon’s tongue is incessant, lapping up every drop of juice that spills from your sweet cunt, prolonging your orgasm with every nip and suckle until you’re bucking up against him. 
“Too sensitive, Si,” you mumble, lost in the haze of your orgasm. 
“That’s just how I like you swee’heart.” Simon stands up and undoes his belt, freeing his cock from its restraints. You crack your eyes open to see him wrap a fist around his cock, giving his member a few rough tugs, rolling back the skin to expose the deep red shade at the tip of his cock, already leaking precum. You bite your bottom lip as you let out a moan. 
“Now you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” Simon smirks down on you, making eye contact as his fist slides languidly up and down his cock. 
You nod fervently. 
“Good girl, just what I like to hear.” With that, he notches his cock at your opening, looking to you for one final nod of approval before he starts inching inside. 
You gasp at the intrusion, but Simon’s groans are nearly pained. 
“Fucking hell, babe, you’re so fucking tight.” 
You can only whimper in response, still lost in the post-orgasm bliss. 
“Shit,” Simon mutters under his breath. “Gotta relax, love,” he presses one hand against your abdomen. “Relax for me. You can take it. I know you can.” 
Simon’s mumbles even more praises, each good girl blurring into one another, lulling you, relaxing you. With a final grunt, Simon thrusts in to the hilt, filling you completely. 
“That’s my fucking girl,” Simon growls, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back into you. “Ya always take me so well, so fucking well.” 
His thrusts are deep, steady, his thick arms holding your body in place while his hips drive home. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, punctuated by your moans, and Simon swears he’s never been so thankful for Price’s little favors in his entire goddamn life. 
“Si
” you cry out, already feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. Simon is already two steps ahead of you—he recognizes that tell-tale tightening of your cunt, that change in pitch as your breathy moans increase. Simon slides one hand from your hip down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles. 
“C’mon sweet girl, my good, sweet girl,” Simon’s hips move faster, cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he teeters on the edge. “Gonna come all over this fat fucking cock, yeah? Gonna let me fill you with every last drop of me, huh?” Simon’s words bordered on nonsense at this point, lost in the haze of pleasure. 
“Need it, Si,” you gasp. “Need to—gonna—can I—“
“Yes,” Simon growls low. It sends you over the edge, your entire body goes rigid as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. 
“That’s my girl, good girl,” Simon coos, working you through your orgasm. His thumb doesn’t leave your puffy clit until your body is jerking against him, overstimulated and worn out. 
“You’re such a good girl coming undone for me, love,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp temple. 
You’re barely floating back to reality, but you know he hasn’t finished yet. “Need you, Si,” you moan. “Need you to fill me up
please?” You’re downright pitiful about it, but Simon swears it makes him cock even harder. 
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Simon adjusts your hips in both holds, holding you steady as he pounds into your swollen pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. “Not gonna last long like this.” Simon loses all sense of rhythm as he pounds into you with abandon, searching for his end. “Fuck, I’m coming—“ Simon finishes with a growl, hips giving one final hard thrust before his warm seed start to flood you. Simon holds you close as he finishes, panting hard, forehead pressed to yours. 
You reflexively tighten your core, causing Simon to inhale sharply, beyond sensitive. 
“Fuck,” Simon curses, his breath still coming in pants as he tries to slow his heart rate. “You’re bloody perfect.” 
You chuckle in response, flushed from the thrill and excitement. “You’re just saying that because it turns out I’m a decent shot.” 
Simon smiles softly before nuzzling his head in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. 
“Something like that, love.”
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