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ivymarquis · 2 years ago

Text

A Little Death

Pairing| Ghost x F!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 7k Kinks/Content/Warnings| The author has decided she can't be assed to edit this, Chubby!Reader, Kidnapping, nondescript mentions of torture. Ambiguous mentions of S/A (vague enough you can chose to ignore that part if you want tbh), Reader is traumatized from her ordeal but working through it. Fingering, PiV, riding, squirting, Simon has a moment where he's worried he triggered reader after sex but that is an incorrect assumption on his part.

On days like this Simon can almost pretend he’s normal.

The game’s on, a beer in one hand while the other has been commandeered by his girlfriend with a simple “Gimmie.”

Simon has never been one to worry about his nails beyond clipping them for practicality’s sake.

Having a SAS lieutenant for a boyfriend means she deals with what she insists is Simon’s paranoia and he insists is a healthy level of suspicion about the outside world. Having a nail technician for a girlfriend means every so often she’ll commandeer his hands to ensure they’re up to her standards. As it turned out, adhering to regulations wasn’t up to par for her.

His neighbor is a popular woman.

It sets him on edge, all the traffic. One or two people at a time, usually other women- sometimes with a man in tow, other times not. They show up, they stay for maybe an hour or maybe 4, and they leave. Within 30 minutes someone else is knocking on her door.

Normal men humor their partners about things they don’t particularly give a fuck about when left to their own devices, as an acknowledgment of its importance to them.

And so he sits, beer in one hand as she works on the other. Once she’s finished she gathers up the towel that acts as a catch for the various clips and trimmings before making her move to switch sides, Simon easily acquiescing to her whim.

“I’m not keeping you up, am I?” She asks one night. Music plays lowly from a laptop on her patio as he steps onto his for a smoke break. Just because he’s got his vice doesn’t mean he wants the whole flat smelling like it.

“Don’t sleep much anyway, pet. Bit of music won’t change that one way or another.”

Despite his insistence that he’s merely humoring her, he soaks up the attention she readily gives him. When she’s done and tidied after herself she returns with a small bottle of lotion.

He’s got one arm wrapped around her shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head as she massages his hand. If he plays his cards right tonight he can probably get her to soothe some of the aches and stiff muscles that always plague him. For now he melts as she seems to know exactly what points to hit in his palm and forearm.

It’s domestic and normal and Simon can almost ignore the burner phone he keeps on him at all times.

It goes off at 5am on a Sunday, Simon already awake and having been watching the ceiling fan since 4:30. He can’t fall back asleep but can’t bring himself to separate from her.

She burrows further into his chest as his shifting disrupts her. He’s fairly certain she would crawl inside his ribcage if she could, curl up right next to his heart and never leave.

Simon would gladly let her.

She’s a nail technician, he comes to learn. Sure as shit, he eventually memorizes the traffic that comes and goes on a roughly two week interval. Some of them are steadfast in their appointments. 2 o clock every other Thursday. 4 o clock every other Friday. Others not so much- they come around frequently but the days and times are random after the 14 day mark.

The familiarity of some of the faces takes him slightly less on edge. He will never relax, not truly, but it settles him down now that he knows the pattern.

It also explains why her hands have two completely different designs on each one. Color, pattern, the shape of the nails. Her left and right hand look like they belong to two different people.

Simon doesn’t use social media, for obvious reasons. His little neighbor has formed an entire career for herself based off of it.

But the phone buzzes on the nightstand, an omniscient presence that always hovers heavy in the air.

“Price?” Is all he gives for a greeting. Trying to keep his words short and concise. He doesn’t want to wake her, still under the lull she draws him into without trying.

He keeps his work and his personal life separate with no intention of ever melding the two.

“Laswell’s got intel. We meet in 2 days, back on base at 06:00.”

He is about to respond, both an acknowledgment and a hopeful end to the conversation, when she stretches next to him with a groan of protest at being awoken so early.

“Tell your other girlfriend I said hi,” she grumbles, already knowing it’s Price on the phone and that the clock is officially counting down on the time they have left together.

“You know at a certain point I'm going to just decide you’ve got a whole secret life with a wife and kids and a picket fence.”

He doesn’t want his work to ever follow him home. Not to her. He keeps them strictly separate. She knows he’s military- specifically SAS- and that he works in counter terrorism and that’s about all he’s willing to tell. She doesn’t need to know details. And more importantly the details don’t ever need to know about her.

His past missions have haunted him in the worst way possible. He’s finally rebuilt something for himself as the ghost of a dead man, and doesn’t want anything to ever tarnish what he’s found.

He can’t entirely blame her. It takes a leap of faith to accept the little he offers her. What does he have? A dead man’s name and most likely a violent end waiting for him.

Eventually he does offer a small peace offering. Price is enough to settle the concerns that she hides as jokes. Provides enough credibility that she can let go of the concern that he’s living a double life.

Well, he is. But not the kind that nags at her.

Price knows her; Gaz and Soap know that he’s got someone waiting for him at home, but Simon is already at his limit of how much intermingling he can handle. They’re both compromising, both making allowances for their comfort levels for the sake of the other. But he has to draw the line somewhere.

If Simon had his way Gaz and Soap would be none the wiser, but a night of frantic coupling before he’d left had Simon bearing marks that are incredibly obvious in the changing room.

“Steamin’ Jesus L.T.! You get jumped by a wildcat?” The chortle from the Scot makes it obvious that Johnny is yet again not afraid to push Simon’s buttons.

There’s no denying what they are, nor how he got them. Neither Soap nor Gaz are stupid.

Long, red scratch marks criss cross the broad expanse of his scarred back. He certainly hadn’t complained when his lovely girl had left her mark on him- those nails dragging across his skin had only encouraged him as his hips clapped wetly against hers, hands gripping her knees as he pressed them to her shoulders.

Most nights he is soft and gentle and strokes her skin while his lips press either in her hair or the soft expanse of her neck. He doesn’t roughhouse her tonight, but the knowledge he’ll be gone for weeks and tonight is their last together for the foreseeable future?

Well, the pair of them are a bit amped about the impending separation. It’s a good thing neither of them are particularly known for their good sleeping habits, because there’s not a lot of that usually happening on the nights before Simon leaves.

Leaving without waking her up is an impossible task but he tries anyway.

Whereas Simon finds sleep difficult to achieve and eventually sleeps like the dead once he finds it, she drifts readily enough but will wake at the drop of a hat.

Usually she’ll settle soon after. Eyes following his form in the dark, waiting expectantly for him to come back after he dresses to kiss her goodbye.

They carve out a routine for themselves. One for when Simon is home, and one for when he’s preparing to walk out the door until eventually coming back through it.

His therapist is equal parts shocked and pleased to hear that Simon is taking the leap and opening himself up emotionally to someone.

His therapist is less pleased about the way he simply buries himself in her life when he’s on leave.

Simon is nothing- has nothing- when he is not acting in the line of duty. He is a dead man with nothing to his name and no one who gives a fuck if he ever walks back through the door that isn’t tied to his military career.

He thrives on the stability and schedule on base. On the simplicity of nights spent out on the field. Wake up, piss, dont die, go to sleep. Wake up, repeat.

Some days the only thing keeping him from trying to end it all (again, he bitterly acknowledges) when he’s gotten too far into a bottle of bourbon is his therapist and the thought of his team’s face at the news.

Until, at least, he meets her.

The mission is brief but successful. Simon is pleased.

The deepest of the scratch marks has just finished healing and he’s already missing the sensation of her nails dragging against his skin- and he’s not picky about the context, either.

There have been plenty of nights he’s fallen asleep with his face buried in her chest with one of her hands scratching gently at his scalp and the other tracing in broad strokes across his back.

Of course those nails also feel divine scratching at his abdomen while she is on her knees for him.

There’s a process he goes through when he gets home. It lets him shed the mantle of Ghost- to calm down as much as he’s able and be better equipped to deal with civilian life. Helps him give her the illusion that she is with a normal man who’s not holding onto himself with a death grip, desperately trying to keep the pieces together.

He feels fine when he leaves base and heads home. Everything is normal.

Until he turns the corner and sees the door ajar.

Fear runs ice cold in his veins, hackles raised and on guard.

I’m just being paranoid, he tries to self soothe as he steps towards the door. She tells me all the time.

Course, it was one thing when he gripes about how she answers the door without looking to see who it is. She doesn’t leave the fucking door open.

“Wish you’d at least look at the peep hole before just opening the bloody door,” he grouses into her hair, pulling her in so she’s tucked up to his side.

“If I’m expecting someone to come at 3 and there’s a knock at 3, I already know who it is, Si.”

There are times when he is grateful that she has, by comparison, lived a life where she thinks he is paranoid and needlessly worries. She hasn’t had the experiences he has, and he doesn’t wish that upon her. He’s grateful with the knowledge that every time he’s sent out, thus far, that she’s been tucked away safe and sound until he returns.

But of course the other shoe was always going to drop eventually.

“Price?” Simon doesn’t know who else to call.

He’s standing in the middle of his flat, evidence of an altercation scattered around the living room.

She put up a fight if the state of the flat is anything to go by. He wants to be proud of that at least, use it as hope-

He just feels hollow.

A group the 141 has dealt with prior are the ones all the signs point to. They wanted the team’s attention and by God they fucking got it.

Simon doesn’t understand how they found she has any ties to him. He’s so careful- keeps her tucked away and hidden from any potential cross over with his work.

The next few days are a blur and Simon’s mental health has seen better days.

He resigns himself, even when Laswell gets a hit and the 141 are loaded into a helo, to the fact that at best this will be a body retrieval mission.

Even as Soap gives a reassuring knock into his shoulder- we’ll get her back, LT- as confident as ever.

His sweet girl is dead, just like every other person Simon has ever cared about.

He doesn’t understand what he’s done to deserve losing them all. The only ones he has left are his team, and that’s a tenuous state at best. His family was good. They were normal people with normal lives. She is good and a normal person.

Her only sin is being foolish enough to love him.

Some time between getting on the bird and offloading, Simon forces the thoughts in a corner and blocks them off.

Simon, the terrified boyfriend, gives way to Ghost so he can get through this in one piece. He just wants to find her, bring her home and bury her body. He’s numb to anything beyond the scope of the plan he’s formed in his mind.

It’s laughably easy. A fringe group the 141 has had altercations with- she’s not exactly a high profile prisoner. They just wanted to fuck with Simon.

There’s no satisfaction or vindication as they clear the building floor by floor.

He feels nothing.

The further they venture into the building with no sign of her, the pit in his stomach sinks just as far. There’s no sign of anything concrete or anywhere they’d keep a prisoner.

And then there, in a corner of a hallway, Ghost spots it-

An acrylic nail lying broken on the ground, dried blood clotted on the tips.

For the first time in days, Simon feels something.

It’s not hope. He doesn’t dare hope.

But it’s confirmation that she has, at some point, been in the building.

It’s also confirmation that she gave it a fighting chance.

She’s a civilian- nothing much she can do against professional criminals. But she tried and Simon has to find something in that.

They split into pairs down a hallway clearing rooms. Every door that opens only to not have her in it is like a knife that keeps twisting in his abdomen.

Just let him have this one thing.

It’s just as Ghost and Soap have called out clear on another room that he hears Price’s voice call to him down the hall.

There’s only one reason Price would be calling for him specifically.

As he approaches he can hear the captain again, softer this time. Can’t make out what he’s saying but everything feels slow; like he’s moving under water.

As his mind prepares him for every horrific potential image waiting for him beyond the threshold of the door- there’s nothing that prepares him for what he sees.

She’s alive.

Wide eyed and panicked, which is to be expected all things considered, but she’s here and she’s breathing.

Simon forgets himself entirely. He swings wildly from feeling nothing to feeling everything and it bubbles up all at once as he barrels towards her.

He forgets that while she knows Simon is SAS she knows nothing of Ghost. Simon works in counter terrorism, yes, but she knows nothing about the mask.

So after being kidnapped and going through God-knows-what in her absence, she’s got no fucking clue the 6’4 fucker with the skull mask gunning for her is her boyfriend.

The sharp, croaked “Stay the fuck away from me!” doesn’t cut but it does jog his memory enough to know she’s absolutely terrified.

Again there’s that part of him that is proud of her. After everything she’s been through even if she wouldn’t stand a chance in an actual altercation- She’s not huddled in the corner. She looks willing to fight him, until Simon rips the mask off his face. “It’s me, love! It’s me.”

“Simon? What the fuck is that?!”

Rather than scrambling to get away she turns to launch herself at him, a tangle of limbs as they cling to each other and reassure themselves that yes this is real and yes the other is there. That this fucking nightmare is over.

Simon buries his nose in her hair- was so certain he’d be bringing her home in a body bag he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. She’s shaking in his grip, sobs ripping through her as he shushes her gently and murmurs “It’s alright, love. I’ve got you now.”

“As much as I love a good reunion- we need to get going, Ghost.” Price is ever the voice of reason, because Simon’s head is not in the game right now.

He wants to cling to her and never let her go- he needs to pull his head out of his ass.

Price isn’t wrong. As much as he has to fight off the impulse to tuck her against his side and keep her there, they have shit to do.

He won’t truly be able to relax until she’s safely stowed on the helo and they’re on their way back.

It’s a bit easier once he puts the mask on. His brain is trained to focus on work and not let his personal life muddy the waters. Where Simon can’t help but falter, Ghost is dauntless.

Simon can barely string a thought together now that he has her back in his arms. Simon still cannot believe she’s alive and breathing even after touching, smelling and hearing her.

But Ghost can focus on getting her to the helo.

Everything is a blur as Price and Gaz lead with Soap bringing up the rear.

Ghost can’t quite decide where he wants her- keeps alternating between keeping her behind him in the event they get blindsided, that he’ll take any hits that go past Price or Gaz, or getting her in front of him so he can keep an eye on her, and there’s two SAS soldiers in front of her and two behind.

The hostiles in the building wanted the 141’s attention. Mission fucking accomplished.

The ones they chance across are dropped with ease. Simon is no stranger to returning to a location and making his point. Right now he’s got bigger concerns to be worried about.

A knot of anxiety lodges itself on his ribcage as they move through the building that doesn’t unwind until he’s got her strapped to her seat in the helo.

For the first time in days he can breathe. The knot slowly untangles as they ascend.

It finally settles in for both of them that she is out and she is safe. She’s been quiet the whole trek to the helo but Price, Soap, and Gaz have been on enough hostage recovery missions to not be caught off guard as she bursts into tears and buries her face in Ghost’s vest.

It’s finally safe for her to do so, the adrenaline wearing off as she sobs.

For the most part the other three men try to avert their eyes and not intrude.

Simon’s always been reserved about his life off base and watching him soothe his partner is bordering too personal for the others to witness.

It comes and goes in waves; Simon will settle her down, crooning quietly in her ear too low for the others to hear. She’ll stifle her tears for a bit as he soothes her. They go straight to medical after landing to have her looked at. She starts up again while waiting for the nurse to come back, trying to apologize to Simon through choked sobs.

He won’t hear it, softly but firmly brushing her apologies to the side and assuring her everything’s fine now, love. No need to apologize.

He feels physically ill when the nurse delicately asks if she needs a rape kit or screenings done.

The rest of the 141 gives them a wide berth- which is a marked accomplishment because all too often Soap and Gaz are trailing behind him and finding some sort of shenanigans to get up to. Simon is perfectly content with the arrangement. He wants to focus his attention on her and that’s easier to do without the sergeants under foot.

His room on base is much like his entire apartment was before she moved in.

It’s 3am, Simon needs to take a piss and as he’s doing so, he’s not-quite eye level with a sign that says

“★★★★★ -

Would poop here again”

He’s got no idea when or where she found that, let alone put it up, but rolls his eyes good naturedly as he tucks himself away.

Normal people have bathroom decor.

Simon can appreciate a bit or a joke as much as the next person- but while this space is his it’s not something he’s ever felt the need to decorate. It’s a bed for him to crash on in between missions or if he’s too bloody exhausted to safely make the trek home.

There’s only one piece of any sort of personal touch to the room- a framed photo of her.

Simon intends to see her through the next few days- they’ll head home in the morning and realistically there’s only so long John can hold off on calling the boys in again. But the captain says he’ll do what he can to keep Simon home while they settle back in. He’s been due for some leave anyway.

He doesn’t sleep the first night. She swings drastically between being knocked out and jolting awake screaming and crying. Even once she’s gotten over the initial shock of her rescue it still takes time for her nervous system to calm down.

“I’ve got you, love- you’re safe here” he murmurs into her ear as she trembles like a leaf. “We’ll be home soon, yeah? You’ll feel better once you’re in our bed.”

The question is twofold- it is to soothe her, and also to gauge her reaction to the prospect of going home. Simon won’t hesitate to set the flat ablaze if it makes her feel better.

Start fresh.

For now she seems to sleep better if he’s got her pinned up against the wall- the bulk of him a physical barrier to anything that might enter the room.

He’s always slept between her and the door so that’s no hardship- it just takes time to realize she feels safer trapped between him and the wall.

They make it through the first night in one piece, although the next morning she will not stop chewing on her nails. With someone else, he wouldn’t necessarily be surprised- but she’s never been a nail biter.

It dawns on him, as she sits on the couch and bursts into tears, that she wants the nails (or at least the ones that survived the ordeal) off, and is winding herself up too much to take them off the way she knows she should.

Simon goes to her office; he’s watched her enough that he knows the steps and the materials she’ll need, gathering them up before coaxing her to the table.

There’s no interest in redoing them but Simon manages to get the current sets off of her so she doesn’t damage her nail beds- assuming she stops chewing on them (which she does).

Over the next few days he lets her set the pace. She’s jumpy at home and calmer when he takes her out to run errands or just to stretch their legs.

Maybe he will propose moving sooner rather than later. Their building is a shithole anyway.

He puts her in therapy after a week. It’s the only time he’s away from her. Realistically he knows it’s not good to have her so used to always being within arms length or eyesight of him- it’s not sustainable when eventually he will be called back in. But he has no qualms for the coddling he subjects her to while he’s able to. She’s quiet and comfortable with his hovering in a way she’d never tolerate before she was abducted- he figures he’ll know when she’s feeling a bit like herself again when she starts complaining about him not giving her any space.

Knowing she’s got the therapist gives him some security on how she’ll mentally cope when eventually he needs to leave again.

Her bursting into tears occurs less frequently. If Simon has to pry himself away from her to take a piss in the middle of the night she’s not up, back ramrod straight and waiting for him to come back with wet, teary eyes.

As the days tick on, bleeding into months later, Simon idly acknowledges that-short of when he’s on deployment- this is the longest they’ve gone without having sex. There’s nothing else that goes with that acknowledgement- he’s far more concerned with her well being than he is getting his kicks. He’s just taking stock of all their ‘normals’ and prior to her abduction they’d had quite the active sex life.

It’s one day as they’re watching a movie that it’s apparent Simon isn’t the only one aware of their dry spell.

They’re laying on the couch, her back pressed against his front with one of his heavy arms draped across her rib cage to keep her snuggled up against him as they watch the screen in front.

At first he thinks that she’s repositioning- thinks nothing of it and lifts his arm just enough to allow her the freedom to wiggle to a more comfortable spot. She keeps wiggling though and Simon is trying to keep his mind off the sensation of her arse grinding into his groin. Trying to ignore the way his dick twitches in interest, because- God help him- he's not dead and the love of his life is grinding her arse on him. Bodies are going to do what bodies do, and he can feel himself stiffening in response.

“Sweetheart, you need to sit still,” he whispers the plea into her ear.

Her head tilts back towards him and lust jolts through his body at the look in her eyes while she still continues to grind against him.

“I miss you, Simon,” and given how he is rarely further than grabbing distance from her, there’s very few other ways to interpret what exactly it is that she is missing.

He’s a goner when she gives him that wide, doe eyed expression paired with the prettiest “Please?” he’s ever heard in his life.

One moment they’re quiet and content laying on their sides on the couch- the next Simon’s gripping her arm and pulling her on top of him as he settles onto his back. She follows his lead and moves so her weight is settled on his hips as his hands grip hers.

It is no hardship on his end to wait for her- the patience never truly even registered in his brain. She can have as much time as she needs and Simon will give it to her gladly.

But his pretty girl batting her eyes at him and pleading softly for him? His patience isn’t the only thing he’s willing to give her.

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t mean to second guess her or make her question herself but he does want to make sure that she’s not acting on obligation.

“Yes, Simon- Please,” and who is he to deny her?

His hands are on her immediately- pulling her towards him and encouraging her to grind, knowing her sweet clit will light up at the friction of her soft panties dragging across the rough material of his jeans.

His lips find hers, separating only briefly as he hauls her dress up and over her head, happily discarding the material in a heap on the floor.

His hands grip her hips, Simon relaxing into the couch while his fingers dug into the pillow soft skin perching above him. He’s straining against the fabric of his jeans- knows the tip of his erection is leaking clear pre and it’s not just going to be her being the reason the fabric has a wet spot.

The couch is certainly not the worst place to be, his beautiful girlfriend’s tits in his face as she grinds down in his lap with little hitching breaths.

“Just like that, pretty,” he encourages, kissing down her jawbone, the length of her neck and across her collar bone before happily mouthing at her breasts which are blessedly right in his face.

Simon groans in pleasure as he teases one nipple, her sweet mewls and the grip on his hair only spurring him on.

Grabbing a handful of her plush arse, he groans in anticipation while switching from one breast to the other.

It’s been a fair while since his back has been shredded by her nails and he can’t wait to feel the bite of them dragging down the length of his spine.

“Lift up, sweetheart,” he instructs, somewhat loath to release her plump bottom but eager to get her dripping for him.

She pulls up enough for him to slip one hand between her legs. Exploring fingers are quick to spread her wetness, dipping between her folds and dragging back up to circle her clit softly.

“Fuck- Simon!” she whines in his ear.

He knows enough by now what makes her tick. Once she’s all warmed up and ready to roll, that sweet cunt of hers could take a thrashing. But warming up involves feather-light touches to get her squirming and squealing for him.

“Feels good, pretty?” he asks despite knowing the answer in the way her arms wrap around his neck and she sags against him, hips twitching as she lets him tease her.

“Ye-yeah,” she murmurs, and presses her lips against his neck as he takes another pass- finger pulling away from her clit just to draw shivers from her as he traces back down her folds and presses ever so lightly against the entrance on her- just to the first knuckle- and making his way back to tease her clit.

Each pass has her rocking her hips more as he slips more of his finger inside, eventually adding a second that has her mewling and squirming in his lap.

He’s going to have one hell of a hickey from how she’s sucking on his neck, but Simon can’t bring himself to care. Not when his ears are graced with the delightful little noises she makes- whimpers of protest as he pulls his fingers out of her, the shaky inhales as he circles her clit and the trembling moan when he once again slides his fingers inside of her to give a few pointed strokes to her g-spot just to get her shivering and blinking up at him with lust-blown eyes.

“Fuck you’re wet,” there’s absolutely zero resistance now, even when he slides a third finger inside her.

“Please,” she mewls into his skin, hips rocking in time with the thrust of his fingers into her.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.” He’s always found her an absolute delight to tease- she gets so flustered and stares at him with that doe eyed, betrayed look- how dare he make her ask for anything when it’s obvious what she wants.

“Please let me cum,” she pants as her eyes screw up in pleasure while his fingers trace and circle her clit for several passes.

“You wanna cum, love?” His tone is just a bit too soft to be a mocking tease despite the way she glares at him. Spoiled little thing so easily sliding back into her old habits.

“I’m going to bite you,” she grumbles in bemused annoyance, brows furrowing as she tries to follow his hand while teasing her.

He doesn’t doubt his little viper for a second, mollifying her displeasure with three fingers digging for that spot that makes her see stars.

“Oh~,” she mewls against him as he stokes the fires of her orgasm with a vengeance. He doesn’t stop, angling his hand so his thumb can stroke against her clit and enjoying the way she trembles against him like a leaf caught in a windstorm.

“That the spot, hm? Right there, innit?” He rumbles low in her ear, a satisfied smirk on his face as she nods in a big sweeping motion against his neck. “Come on, pretty. You wanna cum so badly? Do it.” he baits.

Mission accomplished.

Fuck he’ll remember the vision of her crying and cumming and trembling in his hold, soaking his forearm and abdomen as she squirts, for the rest of his days. His free hand runs soothingly down her back for a few passes before pulling both hands away from her.

She’s immediately whining against him, upset at having his touch taken away. “Simon, please-”

He shushes her with a kiss to her temple, “I know what you need, sweetheart,” he murmurs while deftly undoing his pants and freeing his cock.

It only takes a few strokes, already straining and ready to perform, before they’re shuffling as he pulls and maneuvers her so she’s hovering above him and Oh fuck has Simon missed this as she sinks down on him.

It always takes a couple attempts- he’s not a small man, and doesn’t want to risk injury. Not to mention there’s just something fucking delicious about only giving her a few inches, pulling back and feeding her just a few more. Slow, short, steady thrusts that get deeper bit by bit, having Simon ready to melt into the couch at the bliss of being buried in her by the time she sinks all of her weight onto him, her groin pressing against his.

She’s so fucking warm and wet, clinging to him as she shuffles to get good leverage on top of him to bounce.

Bloody fucking hell does she feel good. “That’s it, pretty. Take it all,” he encourages her while she whimpers above him- if he angles himself just right he can grind her clit against him in a way that has her sucking down air and shivering.

She’s so good for him but he knows there’s only so long she can bounce in his lap- even resting on one knee on the couch and her other foot on the floor so she can shift her weight and give leg a break every now and then, Simon throwing his head back and groaning loudly.

It’s one of the only times he’s particularly verbose- Usually content to be silent and broody unless he has a specific question in mind, the bedroom (or in this case the living room) is the one place where he is a chatterbox. The mouth on him is surreal at times, and while one would think his sweet girl would be use to the filth every now and then he’ll catch her off guard with some particularly out of pocket comment.

For now though, he’s a bit reserved- doesn’t want to go from zero to a hundred out of nowhere.

No, for now his attention is focused on the goddess bouncing on his cock, wondering if he can get her to squirt a second time if he just- he shifts underneath her, changing the angle and fucking hell does that seem to do the trick for her. Swiping one of his thumbs across his tongue before pressing it to her clit and circling again, Simon can’t help the smug look on his face when she squeals. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck,” he grunts as he thrusts up into her. From how those pretty thighs are trembling, her legs are about to give out as he fucks into her.

“Simon!” She’s yelping his name with glassy eyes and a clenching cunt “Fuck- Simon! Please-”

She doesn’t have the energy to get herself back up again- poor thing, her thighs must be burning, and he can’t help but be a cocky fuck about the fact that she loves riding his dick to the point that she physically can’t keep going.

“On your back, sweetheart,” he instructs with a light swat to her ass- appreciating the way her body jiggles at the impact.

His sweet girl has done so well and worked so hard, it’s only right that he rewards her. Once she’s on her back he grips her under her knees and folds her legs back- gives himself room between those gorgeous thighs.

“Fuck, baby- please don’t stop,” she pants underneath him, back arching in pleasure as his mouth drops to her breasts again. Her arms wrap loosely around his neck, and he twitches in anticipation at the feel of her nails tracing ever so lightly against his back.

“Not gonna stop, pretty girl.” he groans against her skin, alternating between which nipple he has between his teeth.

Fuck she’s clenching down on him like a vice. He knows she’s getting close; squirming in his grip, keeping her legs nice and spread for him. The feel of her nails reaching down his back and dragging up his spine pulls a groan that would be embarrassing if Simon could find it within himself to care in the slightest. The slight pain encourages him as he cants against her.

“Simon!” The sound of his hips knocking into the back of her thighs is loud and messy. Fuck he’s such a goner when she looks up at him with that sweet expression on her face- pure adoration and wonder in her eyes.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fucking hell, love,” he grunts out, a second wind reinvigorating him when she starts shaking. Those plush thighs shaking in his hold as he knocks the sense out of her pretty head, he’s so fucking close he can taste it but is determined to get her across the finish line first.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he purrs in her ear, “You feel fucking perfect taking my cock. This wet cunt’s all mine, innit?”

All she can do is chant “Yes! Yes! Yes!” over and over again- Simon’s not sure if even she is certain if she’s repeating the word to answer him, or if she’s just babbling because he’s making her feel good and she’s getting close.

“You gonna cum again love? Gonna soak me, hm?” He’s just running his mouth now- knows the shit she likes to hear, reaffirmed by the way she’s shivering in his hold and crying for it with a glassy eyed gaze.

Whatever she is going to respond with is cut off with a squeal. Simon rears back, enjoying the show as she makes a mess all over his cock with her eyes rolled back. He lets go of one of her legs in favor of teasing her clit just shy of overstimulation to prolong her orgasm- she lets him for a time before her hands abandon shredding his back in favor of wrapping around his wrist in a plea for mercy.

“Simon it’s too much,” she laments with teary eyes as he pulls his hand away with a chuckle and a chaste kiss.

He stays curled over her, hips driving into hers. “Tell me where you want it,” he instructs.

“Inside! Please, I want it inside!” Her answer is sharp and immediate, the leg not pinned to her chest wrapping around his waist like she is daring him to even try to pull out.

And fuck there is something cathartic about his orgasm when it hits. Burying his face in her soft body while his hips snapped into hers a few times, Simon groans as his vision damn near whites out for a second.

Simon knows better than most that there’s good days and bad days- and a presumed good day can become a bad day quicker than one can blink. But overall he feels like consistently she’s doing better all around. They take their time calming down, Simon showering her in attention and getting a feel for where her head is at. Praising her for how well she did and making sure she feels stable.

He lets out a breath, feeling confident that she’s settled, having a good day, and everything is fine for now.

And it is. Until about two hours later.

One moment they’re finishing the movie they’d initially started before the impromptu romp on the couch, and then Simon has a 3 second warning of her sniffling as she obviously tries to fight back the tears and then she’s sobbing harder than she has in weeks.

Simon goes from content to concerned in a second, his blood turning to ice in his veins. His immediate assumption is that their prior activities finally caught up with her mentally and now that she’s had time to think it over it wasn’t good. It was too fucking soon to have sex. He should have told her no, should have been gentler, should have-

“Sweetheart? Talk to me,” his voice is tinged with a thinly controlled concern (not panic he convinces himself) and while he means to comfort her, she can hear his tone and that just sets her off anew.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she blubbers, turning to face him. “I don’t know why I’m crying!”

That settles Simon’s nerves somewhat, stroking her back and pulling her close to comfort her. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” he soothes her, listening to her sniffle against his shirt after shoving her into the crook of his neck.

“I just want to feel normal again,” she sobs into his collar.

“You will, love,” he assures her- never mind that ‘normal’ is something that even he struggles with on a near daily basis. “It’ll take time but you’ll get there. I promise.”

He’s a bastard for making a promise to her that he can’t guarantee to keep. There’s a part of him that knows that- hell, he’s been working on his shit for years and he still doesn’t feel normal most days.

But while he can’t promise that she’ll ever get back to feeling exactly the same as she did before all of this happened, he can promise that he’ll be by her side and ensure she’s adjusting. It will take time, and work, but Simon will make sure she gets there one step at a time.

#my writing #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #x chubby reader #cw sa implied

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wri0thesley · 1 year ago

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Hi Nat, do you happen have any comforting thoughts on Jing Yuan with a chubby partner? 💕

you are soft and sweet; the gentle roundness of you reminds him of his finches. he cannot help but be mesmerised by the way you move, how soft and warm you feel curled up against him. how could you be built so optimally to cuddle and nap with him? how could he ever sleep, now, without you tucked into his arms? sometimes in his sleep his big hands knead into your hips, your thighs, your chest - when you whine about it, he chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of your head. ‘then you shouldn’t be made to be so squeezable,’ he tells you, kneading your rear with more than a touch of desire. ‘if you are frustrated it’s disturbing your sleep, my dear . . . i have no qualms doing it whilst you’re awake, either.’

#nat.txt #hsr posting #not sfw implied #chubby reader posting

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admrlthundrbolt · 1 year ago

Text

Alone Together (Nandor the Relentless x Chubby Reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moving to a new home to take care of your grandfather was one thing. But finding out that the neighbors are Vampires. Well nothing could prepare you for that. If only you noticed just how much attention Nandor gave you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi guys. I'm back at it again. I watched the newest season of What We do in the Shadows recently. Which reminded me of how much of a himbo Nador is. Including how quickly he falls in love. So it wasn't hard for him to become my muse.

Anywho, I hope you enjoy.

---------------------------------------------------------

Standing in the kitchen your gaze wandered to the window. The veiw was one you still hadn't gotten used to. Traveling halfway across the country can do that to you.

Turning back to the oatmeal that was bubbling away on the stove top, you stirred it. Spooning some into a couple of bowls, you set off for the living room.

“Here you go Papa.” Placing the bowl on a serving tray in front of him. You sat on the nearby couch, not yet eating.

He tore his eyes from the TV, playing old black and white reruns. Then frowned down at his breakfast. Placing his spoon in the oatmeal he scooped up a bit and let it fall back into the bowl. “Now I'm not one to complain.” You had to fight to keep the smile off of your face. “But honestly would it hurt to have something with a little more flavor?”

You let the smile slid onto your face as he finished. Heading to the kitchen you grabbed a jar of honey and started back. Only to give it a second thought, snatching up a tablespoon too. “I get where your coming from, really I do. But it's the doctor's orders, gotta watch your cholesterol.” Standing next to him you held out the jar. “I'll make you a deal. You can have a serving of this, if we watch something in color.” Noding he reaches for the jar. “That isn't the news.”

He deflated a bit at that, but still agreed. Then perked up suddenly and said. “Speaking of news, could you go grab the paper.”

“Sure, but I'm not leaving the honey.” Walking away, you chuckled at the mumbled obscenities that left his mouth.

Going out to grab the paper, you decided to check the mailbox as well. “Junk, junk, Bill, Nandor The Relentless?” It was an odd thing to see in a letter. Equally as bizarre was the ornate nature of the peice of mail. As you looked over the envelope, you realized that it wasn't your address. Glancing at the number's on the other nearby mailboxes, it seemed to match a neighbor's. It was the home that you had seen a nervous looking younger man. He was usually working on the yard or house. It was an older Gothic manor of a home, so the upkeep was probably brutal.

Heading back in you dropped the mail next to your grandfather's breakfast. Then turned and made for the front door again. “Going to give the neighbor's some of their mail we got.”

He nodded half heartedly as he stuck his nose in the newspaper. “OK, while your there see if they have something tastier for breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Waving your hand around, you beelined towards the mysterious letter owner. Not seeing anyone in the front yard, you made your way up to the front door and knocked. Glancing around the house as you waited, you couldn't help but admire the odd architecture. As you were about to knock again, thinking the home owner may not have heard you, the door swung open. It was the anxious guy and a camera crew? Raising a brow you held up the letter. “Hi, I live over there.” You pointed out your grandfather's house. “We got one of a piece of your mail, Mr. Nandor.” Holding it towards him, you smiled.

He seemed to be in a bit of a daze, until you moved the letter towards him. “Oh, thank you. I'm actually Guillermo, Nandor is my Master.” He seemed to flinch at his words and quickly changed the subject. “Isn't that Mr. Wilson's house. I didn't know he had moved.”

Shaking the odd feeling from your mind, you shook your head. “No, he's still there. He's my grandfather, after my grandmother passed. Well, I offered to move in and help out. It seems to be a good decision for both of us.”

He noticed how the smile slipped from your face as you explained. “I was sorry to hear about your grandmother's passing. I'm glad that Mr. Wilson has someone to count on.”

Your smile had returned at the statement. “That's if I can keep up with the old man. I'm (Y/N) by the way.” You held your hand out and was impressed with the grip his handshake had. “Speaking of, I should probably get back to the house. Before he sends out the search parties that is." Turning back towards your home, you threw a quick comment over your shoulder. “Hope to see you around."

This left a flustered Guillermo to rush back inside. Pushing the crew away from his flush expression, he made for his master's room. Placing the letter down on a nearby dresser. He left for his own room. To definitely not think about how great it would be to have someone outside of the vampire house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nandor was restless. Something was causing his slumber to constantly be interupted. That something happened to be a scent. The moment it entered his room he couldn't settle down. But his internal clock knew it was nowhere near sundown. So he tossed and turned, enduring the distraction.

“Morning Master.” Came the timid voice of Guillermo.

Before he could approach the coffin, Nandor burst from it. His glowing eyes searched the room. Taking deep breaths, he felt like a hound seeking out his prey. Following his nose he found a letter addressed to himself. Tearing it open, he rummaged for the source of the smell. Only to find that the letter itself was covered in the odor.

“Master?” The familiar glanced nervously at the documentary crew.

His nervous call, made the vampire finally notice that the familiar was in the room.

Gathering his composer, he turned to the other man. “Ah Guillermo, I was just inspecting this letter. Could you tell me why it smells this way.”

He was about to laugh off the notion, it was just a piece of mail. That was until he remembered how it got to the house, you. You had hand delivered the letter. He cringed at the thought of his master sinking his fangs into you. The new neighbor that was taking care of their newly widowed grandfather. So as his master glared expectantly down at him. He decided a half truth would be the best way to keep you safe. “It was delivered this morning. Maybe the post office has a new mailman.”

He towered over his familiar and a smile broke out on his face. “Yes, that must be it. A new person has started working at the postal building.” He placed the letter in his coffin. Trying and failing to be subtle about it. “Keep an eye out for this postal person. They may be more interesting than they lead on.”

“OK Master. Did you have anything planned for today.” Glancing at the crew He hoped the subject change would distract the vampire. At least enough to keep your name from spilling out of his mouth.

“Yes. I would like to look at horses. So I will need you to set up the light box.” With a flourish of his cape, he walked out of the room. A very relieved human following after.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taking a long swig from your water bottle, you wiped the sweat from your brow. The feeling of your muscles burning was a pleasant sensation. It was nice having a bit more free time. But the thought of sitting around all day was not the way you wanted to live.

You were thankful for all of the gyms that were a stones throw away from home. It honestly seemed like you couldn't go a couple of blocks without passing a gym. But hey, you weren't going to complain about a convenience.

Finishing out your set, you cleaned the machine. The warmth built up in your limbs made you decide it was time for a cool down. Seeing a few treadmills free, you went to grab a spot. Only to shift paths to the bikes as you spot a familiar face.

Sitting down next to him, you felt bad at how much you seemed to startle him. “Sorry buddy, didn't mean to spook you.” Starting to pedal the exercise bike, you hoped he didn't mind you setting up next to him.

He shook his head. “No, you're fine. Didn't expect to see you here is all.”

“I get that.” A stale silence lingered between the two if you. Thinking that a subject change would ease the tension, you said. “So did Nandor get their letter?”

His shoulders tensed a bit at the mention of his Master. Glancing at you, he saw the gentle expression on your face. He was reminded that you were a regular person. That just seemed as lonely as he felt sometimes. So he nodded and gave you a quick smile. “He did, he got a little excited about it too. You know how older people can be about letters though.”

You nodded. “Oh don't I know it. Everytime my Grandfather gets a personal letter in the mail you would think it was his birthday.”

This confirmed your suspension of Guillermo being in a similar situation as yourself. You had heard from another neighbor that there were a group of people that lived in the house with him. And seeing him do all of the yard work. Well it wasn't like some elderly people could handle those type of tasks. It made you like him even more, knowing that you could have a kinship through caring for others.

So you cycled next to each other and made plans to meet up at the gym more often. You loved the idea of having a workout buddy. While he was relieved that he could spend some time with you, away from the house of course.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finishing up another workout, you bid Guillermo a goodnight. No matter how many times you offered him a ride home he always declined. Even as the year settled into winter he still insisted. Something about how a brisk walk was how he preferred to end a workout.

Shaking your head at how odd he could act, you didn't notice the item in your path. Catching yourself on a nearby wall, you looked down. It was a worn out dark wallet. You picked it up to take to the front desk. Only to stop as you notice that Guillermo's license was in it. Walking to the front, you glanced either way down the sidewalk. His curly locks were nowhere in sight. With a shrug, you headed back towards the locker room. It wouldn't be a problem to drop it off to him. Plus it would be nice to meet the Nandor you've heard so much about. But had never had the opportunity to be introduced.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hearing the front door open Nandor narrowed his brow. “Guillermo, come to the library. I wish to to purchase a item and need the plastic card.” The quick patter of footsteps followed the command.

“Coming Master.” Then a pause in his step and the sound of rustling. “Um, do you happen to know where my wallet is?”

Rolling his eyes, the Vampire rose from his seat. Making his way over to the familiar, he scoffed. “Of course not. If I did than I would not have asked you for the card.” Sending a look at the camera, he said. “Fucking guy.”

As the younger man went to tear his room apart, a knock rang through the house. “Could you please get that Master.” Then realizing that that could be seen as a demand he added. “So I can find the credit card for you.”

Throwing a hand over his shoulder, he headed to the entrance. “Very well, but don't expect this to become a regular thing.”

Swinging the door open he paused. He was sure that if he still needed breath to live, it would have caught. You were a beacon of beauty. A vision of soft splendor that he could loose himself in. Then your scent hit him and an indescribable hunger welled within him. A baser urge rose from within himself and he lunged towards you. Not sure what his inner instincts were forcing upon him.

Before you could get a word out, however, your muscle memory took over. Which caused the hand holding the wallet to strike out. Causing Nandor to halt in his movement.

“For fucks sake!” His hands cupped his nose and he was surprised to feel liquid. Pulling a hands back, he couldn't help but admire the blood coating his fingers. Glancing up at you he was taken aback at the compassionate expression on your face.

You quickly took his face into your hands and fussed over him. “I'm so sorry, it was just instinct. I can't believe I hurt you." Tugging a few tissues from you bag. You gently pressed them to his nose.

Even though he knew his vampiric powers had already healed him. He let you take care of him. Your touch was warm and gentle. Your soft hands flitted over his face in a pleasant manner that he could indulge in for hours.

The nose bleed had seemed to stop. Taking a step back,you gave him a nervous smile. “I really am sorry about all this. I just wanted to return Guillermo's wallet.” This caused the mystery man to step towards you.

“Why are you interested in seeking an audience with my familiar?” He had a disgruntled tone.

Brows furrowing at his statement, you repeated yourself. “I wanted to return his wallet. He dropped it at the gym and I thought I would give it to him. I mean it's not like it was out of my way or anything." You gestured to your home and sent him a hopefully pleasant grin.

Narrowing his eyes at the house. He wonder what else his familiar could be keeping from him. “I see, let me call for him.” Facing into the house, he said. “Guillermo, there is a visitor at the door.” Side eyeing the crew, he waited.

You both waited for him to return. Nandor took the time to admire you for a moment longer. While you were excited, yet confused, to learn about your friend's housemates. This honestly wasn't the situation you thought he was living in. Still it seemed that he helped the people he stayed with.

He jogged to the front, but slowed his stride at the sight in front of him. Two of the people he never wanted to meet, standing beside each other. His heart began racing. You being here was as surprising as you not being dead. The way his Master reacted to your scent. He belived if the vampire ever got downwind of you, it would be your end. Instead he was gazing down at you in wonder.

“Hey, I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time.” You sheepishly shifted your gazed to Nandor, then quickly back to him. “I just wanted to make sure you got this.” Holding the wallet out to him, you were happy to see the relief that spread across his face.

Taking it from your hand, he embraced you. “I can't believe you found it. Thank you (Y/N).” Shifting back, he was surprised to see the angry look on his Master's face.

“It's nothing really. You must have dropped it and when I happened to find it outside of the locker rooms. Well, I didn't think it would be a problem to drop it off. Not like it's a long trip or anything.” Grinning you pat his back.

Nandor stepped a bit closer to you. It seemed his familiar had grown close to what should be HIS. He had only known you a few moments. But he felt a possessiveness clawing at his insides. “Yes, she was just telling me about your time together at the gym. It has made my interest in the location grow. I should like to join you at your next session.”

Guillermo's eyes pleaded for you to say no. Knowing you though, there was no way that you would reject someone without a reason.

“Sure, the more the merrier.” Noticing how dark the sky had gotten, you stepped towards the door. “Text me the details Guillermo, I've got to get to my grandfather.”

Both men waved as you left. Each dreading you departure for very different reasons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next gym trip was an interesting one. You didn't expect Nandor to show up in only a pair of tight ornate pants. But if that was what put him in the mood for a good burn, then who were you to judge. It also didn't hurt that it made it that much easier to observe him. His muscles twitching and veins pulsing. All while he lifted over five time your body weight. Well it didn't take long for the more steamy thoughts of what his muscle could help with.

He was thoroughly enjoying his time with you. It was a nice change to have a workout partner. Watching as you pushed your body and strengthen yourself. It was enough to make him go wild. How could something be so soft yet ferice? If only he didn't have to share you.

“That's great Guillermo, just one more press.” You loved to encourage him. IT always seemed to help him push to new heights.

Noticing the vampire sneer from the corner of his eye, he shook his head. “No. I can't keep going.”

Your smile faultered. He was shaking and his breath was pretty labored. Sliding behind him, you positioned your hands under the barbell. “OK. If you want to burnout, I've got you.” Nodding down at him, you prepared for the worst.

He felt guilty for worrying you. Until he saw his Master holding back a hiss. So he moved the weights and focused on you instead. The only person whose treated him like a human. No, a friend, in a long time. Taking all his frustration out on his muscles.

That is if his sweaty palms didn't slip from the barbell. You caught it, but a sickening pop came from your shoulder. Crying out, you lurched backwards to keep the weight from falling on him.

The vampire sprung into action. One hand pulling the equipment from you. He cradled you against him with the other. Touching your shoulder, he was relieved to see that it only seemed strained. Though his frown deepen at the way your breath hitched. He whipped towards the other man. “You idiot, were you trying to kill her. You know how fragile humans are.”

He barely paid the vampire any mind. “I'm so sorry (Y/N). Are you ok? What am I saying, of course your not.” He began to pace.

You placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “Hey, it's OK. I think it's only strained.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I'll just have to stick to legs for a bit.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even after offering to take you to Urgent Care and paying. You still insisted that you were fine. That an ice pack and some sleep would do the trick. That didn't stop the men from escorting you home.

Guillermo rushed into their house, trying his best to ignore his Master. It did little good.

“You are a reckless idiot. How could you let her get injured. You should have let those weights crush you.” He followed him through the house. Pushong passed the crew, irritated. Watching as he rifled amongst his things, the Vampire grew enraged. “Are you even listening to me!”

Swinging around to face the taller man, he was red with anger. “How could I not. Look i know I screwed up. That's why I'm getting my heating pad. Alternating between heat and cold should help her recover faster.” Then he quickly walked to the front door.

Nandor enjoyed the thought of you healing faster. But frown at Guillermo being the one to cause it. “Then we will take it to her together.”

The familiar came to a sudden stop. “No, I'm going to see MY friend. If all of this is my fault, then I should be the one to take care of it.”

Glaring down at the shorter man, he could feel his nail digging into his palms. “That is why I should go. To make sure you don't kill them.”

His face became a blank mask to shroud his emotions. As calmly as he could manage he said. “Actually Master, I think you have a much better chance of taking their life. Now if you don't mind, I have something to see to. Including not worrying about being invited inside her home.” He left swiftly.

A fact that Nandor was both angry and relieved by. Huffing he went to confide in the only man in the house that was successful in love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Swaying through the air as a bat. He couldn't help but curse at having taken Laszlo's advice. How could he be stupid enough to believe that drinking from intoxicated humans would help. Now he was over thinking what you and his betrayal of a familiar were doing.

Veering away from his own home, he transformed back on your lawn. Stumbling to the front door, he didn't notice the light beginning to spill over the horizon. He called out to you, loudly wailing.

Making your way to the entrance, you were confused why someone would be here so early. That someone being a distraught Nandor was a surprise. Rubbing a hand across your face, you tried to focus on the situation.

He admired how your pajamas fit you. Taking a moment to try to commit the sight to memory. He attempted to throw himself into your embraced. But was halted by the very curse that Guillermo had thrown in his face. “Why must we be torn from each other?”

Staring at the man in bewilderment, you stepped forward. “Nandor, what are you talking about?”

He fell forward and wrapped his strong arms around you. Feeling your soft body fit against him pleasantly. “We are so different. You a human and me a vampire. You care for people, while I only think of them as food. Guillermo is right, I'm not good enough.”

Frowning at his drunken rambling, you heaved him towards your door. “I'm not sure what your getting on about. But why don't I get you some water and on the couch. Come on, let's get inside.”

He wiggled out of your arms, as much as he didn't want to. “No, you should be near me. I'm a monster that could kill you at any moment.” He turned to head home, but shrieked as the first rays of light hit his skin.

Shock ran through you. It felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over you. You let instinct take over as you yanked him inside. Flinging the door shut, you went to check over his burns. After seeing they were only minor wounds, you smiled. “OK, so that wasn't just the booze talking.”

“No, I would not lie to you, you are to precious. Even now you have saved a monster like me." He took your hands into his own and leaned forward.

You met his lips in a tender kiss. Pressing your forehead against his own, you took in a shuddering breath.

“Is everything OK? I thought I heard…. oh for christ's sake!” There stood a disheveled Guillermo, a frown tugging at his lips. When he brought you the heating pad earlier he seemed so upset. You decided to invited him to stay over. But with the situation at hand, you didn't consider calling out to him for help. “You couldn't even wait another day to make a move. This is so like you, taking without considering others feelings.”

“Hey that's not fair. She obviously likes me.” Almost falling over himself to stand up and face the other man. “Why must you stand in the way of love?”

The familiar stepped forward and shoved a finger into his chest. “Because you're a killer that falls in love every other month.”

You had stood to the side stunned. You didn't realise the impact you had made on their lives until now. As you thought about it, you knew that you felt the same. It would hurt your heart to not have these men in your life.

Stepping between them, you took a breath to steady yourself. “I'd like a say in this. Being that I am the subject of the fight after all.” Placing a hand on each of their chest, you smiled reassuringly. “I'm a big girl. If I want to be friends with someone. Or date someone, it's my choice in the end.” You gave each of them a pointed look that caused their masculine ego to deflate.

Guillermo was the first to speak. “What if you break up? You won't want anything to do with things that remind you of Nandor…. Including me.”

The desperation in his voice broke your heart. You brought him into a tight hug. “You can't predict what the future might bring. But I can promise you that I don't veiw you as an extension of Nandor. So the chances of me not wanting to be around you aren't happening.”

He sniffled as you seperated. “Thanks, that's reassuring to hear.”

Turning to the Vampire, you patted his chest. “Nandor, I like you, a lot. But let's take things slow. It's obvious that there's still something that we need to learn about one another.”

He gave you a wide grin. “As long as it is time I get to spend with. Then I am happy.”

Guiding everyone to the couch, you made sure they both were comfortable. A simle settled on your face. Settling on top of Nandor and pulling Guillermo onto yourself. A calm washed over your heart. Things may get rocky, but you guys could figure it out together in time.

#what we do in the shadows #chubby reader #nandor the relentless #chubby reader x nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #vampire #familiar #moving #implied/referenced character death #love at first sight #mutual pining #fights #minor injury #romance #fluff

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hwajin · 2 years ago

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how are you gonna make a fic with a plus size reader then add a bulge kink in the warnings… like that doesn’t make sense at all 🤨

it's a monster fic... mc is fucking someone with a MONSTER cock 😝

#and it's only implied plus size reader #like it's not explicitely a chubby girl but you can read it with that in mind 👍🏻

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needmorereading · 1 year ago

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This is so cute, I can't

He's the most adorable goof! ❤️

And the best boyfriend ever! 😂😂😍

Pretty 😍

Masterlist|Chubby!Baker Bucky Masterlist|

Tipsy Baker Bucky FaceTiming you to tell you that he missed you and he's on his way home.

Only that's not his phone and he just said he's a little lost.

You're not too worried because you know Steve's with him.

"Peach, peach!" He yells, pressing the phone to his face until all you can see is one blurry blue eye.

"Yes?"

"I'm goin' to find ya and Imma eat you," he declares, words slurring. Your brow wrinkles and laughter bubbles up when he begins to describe in vivid detail all the ways he can eat a peach.

The screen jostles, Buckys eye disappears and you hear a commotion in the background. "She's so juicy Steve. Hey give her back, lemme have my Peach. I love her, Steve Steve give her back-"

An exasperated, painfully sober Steve appears on the screen. "All night," he starts, glaring at you. "All night I had to hear this punk talk about you." He pauses, his gaze narrowing even more. "And your peach."

"That's not my fault," you laugh. Trying to look past his shoulder, you see Steve's outstretched arm with his hand on your baker's chest, keeping Bucky from grabbing the phone back.

"The hell its not," he retorts, pushing Bucky away. "I don't know what you did to my friend," Steve continues, turning to glare at Bucky before returning his attention to you. "But thank you." A smile flits across his face. "He hasn't been this happy since he learned how to make the perfect peach meringue pie. I'll drop him off in twenty minutes and then he's all yours."

"Yes," Bucky cheers, a crooked grin tugs at his lips and he pushes the loose strands of his long chestnut hair off his forehead. "I'm all hers Steve. She's getting all of this when I find her."

The last thing you hear before the phone cuts off is Steve shouting dont do that.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #fluff #implied smut #fic rec #marvel fanfic #marvel au #baker!bucky #chubby!bucky

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blueberrisdove-sideblog · 4 months ago

Text

₊˚. ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ KNEES AND NEED !

ੈ✩‧ paring : sylus, caleb, rafayel, xavier, zayne x bunny fem!reader

ੈ✩‧ warnings : nsfw/smut, vaginal, reader is implied to be chubby, cow girl, rough s*x, doggy style, hair pulling, chocking, spanking, nipple sucking & pulling, wall fucking, biting, dacryphilia & others!

ੈ✩‧ summary : how they react when their bunny girlfriend calls them daddy. ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

ੈ✩‧ note : dunno if this is out of character, they are all mean and rough here. also minors do not interact please!! also not proof read

－❤︎︎ SYLUS :

Sylus had you spread out beneath him, your chubby thighs hooked over his arms as he drove into you, slow and deep. His red eyes were locked onto your face, drinking in every little gasp, every quiver of your soft, plush body. You were dripping for him, your pussy stretched around the thick length of his cock, so wet he could hear the slick sounds every time he thrust forward. Your fluffy tail twitching with each thrust.

“Taking me so well, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice thick with desire. His grip tightened on your thighs, thumbs pressing into your soft skin as he ground against your clit. The friction sent a shockwave through you, making you whimper and squirm in his grasp.

That’s when it slipped out. Barely a breath, just a desperate little moan—

“Daddy…”

Sylus stilled. His cock throbbed inside you, your walls clenching around him at the sudden stillness. The air between you turned electric, and when you dared to look up at him, his expression had shifted completely. Those crimson eyes burned with something deeper, something darker.

“What did you just call me?” His voice was low, dangerous, dripping with need.

Your ears twitched, cheeks burning. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

His hips snapped forward, driving his cock into you hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. “No, you don’t get to take that back.” Another thrust, deeper, rougher. “Say it again.”

You gasped, body arching, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders. He was so deep, so thick, rubbing against the spot inside you that had you seeing stars. “D-Daddy,” you whimpered, voice cracking.

Sylus let out a growl, one hand sliding down to your belly, pressing down just enough to make you feel every inch of him buried inside you. “Good girl,” he praised, rubbing slow circles over your clit, making you writhe beneath him. “You know what that does to me, don’t you?”

You couldn’t speak, only moan as he fucked into you harder, stretching you open, making your pussy pulse around him. He was relentless now, chasing the sound of your pleasure, of you falling apart for him.

“That’s it, little bunny,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot and ragged. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up nice and full—baby.” Sylus smirked while gripping your plush thighs.

Sylus’s grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers pressing into your soft skin hard enough to leave marks. His smirk was sharp, predatory, his red eyes locked onto yours with dark amusement.

“You’re really full of surprises, aren’t you, bunny?” he rasped, his voice thick with something possessive, something dangerously pleased. His hips rolled forward, slow and deliberate, grinding his cock so deep inside you that your toes curled. “Calling me Daddy while I’m balls-deep in this perfect little pussy?”

You whimpered, thighs trembling against his arms as the heat in your belly twisted tighter. His words, his tone—it was overwhelming. Your ears twitched as you tried to turn your head, but Sylus wasn’t having it.

“Oh no, don’t go getting shy on me now.” His free hand slid up, fingers wrapping around your throat—not to squeeze, just to hold you there, to make you feel him. “Say it again. Let me hear you beg for Daddy’s cock.”

The way he said it made your insides clench, your pussy fluttering around his thick length. He groaned, the sensation sending a shudder through his broad frame, his control slipping just a little.

“D-Daddy, please,” you gasped, fingers curling into his forearms, nails dragging over his skin.

“Fuck,” he growled, his restraint snapping.

He drove into you harder now, setting a brutal rhythm that had your back arching off the bed. His cock slammed into that spot deep inside you, each thrust making your vision blur, making your fluffy tail twitch wildly against the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” Sylus praised between ragged breaths, his hand on your belly pressing down just enough to make you feel every inch of him. “Look at you, taking Daddy’s cock so fucking well. You love it, don’t you?”

You could only nod, too lost in the pleasure to form words. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing in tight, relentless circles that made your whole body jolt. The pleasure was unbearable, a dizzying, intoxicating thing that had you spiraling toward the edge.

Sylus grinned, his own control slipping as he felt your pussy start to tighten around him. “That’s it, little bunny,” he groaned, snapping his hips harder. “Cum for Daddy—let me feel you fall apart on my cock.”

And when you did, when your body clenched around him so tight it dragged a deep, guttural moan from his lips, Sylus followed right after—filling you up just like he promised.

－❤︎︎ CALEB :

Caleb leaned back against the headboard, his toned chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he watched you sink down onto his cock. His hands gripped your plush thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as you took him inch by inch, stretching around his thick length.

“Shit, bunny,” he groaned, head tilting back for just a second before snapping forward again, his sharp purple-ish eyes locking onto you. “So fuckin’ tight—like you were made for me.”

You whimpered, hands bracing against his chest as you adjusted to the stretch, your bunny ears twitching. His cock was so deep, pressing right against that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble.

Caleb smirked, his grip tightening, thumbs stroking over your thighs. “C’mon, baby, don’t go shy on me now. Ride me.”

You started to move, lifting yourself just enough before sinking back down, the slow drag making you shudder. Caleb groaned, his fingers twitching like he was resisting the urge to take control, to flip you over and fuck you senseless. But he wanted to watch you do it—wanted to see the way you lost yourself on his cock.

“That’s it, just like that,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. His hands slid up to your waist, guiding your movements, helping you pick up the pace. The sound of slick, wet skin meeting filled the room, each bounce making your tits jiggle, your bunny tail twitching behind you.

Then it slipped out, barely more than a breathy moan—

“Daddy…”

Caleb froze. His hands clenched on your waist, his cock twitching deep inside you. His blue eyes darkened, something dangerous and hungry flashing through them.

“��The hell did you just call me?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something raw.

Your face burned, ears drooping slightly as you tried to brush past it, to keep moving. But Caleb wasn’t having that.

“Oh, no, sweetheart.” His hands shot to your hips, holding you still, keeping you seated fully on his cock so you could feel every inch pulsing inside you. “Say that again.”

You swallowed hard, your body trembling under his heated gaze. “…D-Daddy.”

A sharp inhale, then a slow, wicked grin spread across Caleb’s face.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his grip tightening. “You really tryna kill me?”

Before you could answer, he planted his feet on the bed and snapped his hips up, fucking into you so hard your breath hitched. The sudden force had you falling forward, hands bracing against his shoulders, and Caleb chuckled, smug and pleased.

“That’s more like it,” he rasped, meeting each desperate bounce with deep, powerful thrusts. “Knew my sweet little bunny had a filthy side.”

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, merciless circles. The pleasure shot straight through you, white-hot and overwhelming, your walls clenching around him.

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum so hard,” he groaned, snapping his hips up again. “Gonna have you milking my cock—c’mon, baby, let me feel it.”

And when you finally shattered, body trembling, pussy pulsing around him, Caleb groaned loud, pulling you down fully onto his cock as he filled you up, just like he promised.

－❤︎︎ RAFAYEL :

Rafayel had you on your hands and knees, his grip firm on your hips as he fucked you deep and steady. His pink and blue eyes were locked onto the way your plush body trembled beneath him, your soft thighs quivering, your fluffy bunny tail twitching with each sharp thrust. The wet sounds of your slick pussy taking him so well filled the room, along with his low, controlled breaths and the occasional rough groan.

“Tch,” he muttered, his voice laced with amusement and condescension. “Look at you. Pathetic.”

You shuddered, his cruel words sending a sharp pulse of heat straight to your core. Rafayel was always like this—biting, arrogant, a man who wielded control like a blade. And yet, you could feel it in the way his fingers dug into your skin, in the way his pace stuttered for just a second when your walls fluttered around him. He was just as affected as you were, even if he wouldn’t say it.

A wicked idea sparked in your mind, and before you could second-guess yourself, the word slipped past your lips, breathy and sweet—

“Daddy.”

Rafayel froze.

His grip on your hips tightened to the point of bruising, his cock throbbing inside you as the weight of that single word sank in. The air turned thick with tension, an eerie silence stretching between you before he finally spoke.

“…The fuck did you just call me?” His voice was low, dangerously quiet.

Your ears twitched, your face burning, but you forced yourself to stay still, to feign innocence. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

A sharp, sudden thrust cut you off, knocking the air from your lungs.

“No.” His tone was a warning, a command. “You don’t get to take that back.” Another deep, punishing thrust, forcing you to take every inch of him. “Say it again.”

Your fingers curled into the sheets, your body trembling as the pleasure crashed over you in waves. He felt bigger now, heavier, his presence overwhelming as he loomed over you, his breath hot against your ear.

“D-Daddy,” you whimpered, barely able to get the word out.

Rafayel let out a low, guttural groan, something between a curse and a growl. His hands slid up your body, one gripping your waist while the other wrapped around your throat—not to squeeze, just to hold you in place. His pace turned brutal, his cock slamming into you over and over again, hitting that perfect spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice rough with desire. “You want Daddy to fuck you properly? Want to be filled up nice and full?”

You nodded desperately, too lost in the pleasure to speak.

Rafayel chuckled darkly, his fingers slipping between your legs, rubbing tight circles against your clit. “Then take it, bunny. Take all of it.”

And when you finally came, body writhing, walls clenching down on him, Rafayel followed with a deep, shuddering groan—filling you up just like he promised.

－❤︎︎ XAVIER :

Xavier had you pressed against the cold wall of his quarters, your legs wrapped around his waist, your soft body caged between him and the unyielding surface. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted as he drove into you, slow and deep, making you feel every inch of him stretching you open.

His blue eyes burned into yours, half-lidded with lust, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “So needy. You’ve been squeezing around me ever since I put you up here.”

You whimpered, his words making the heat in your core tighten. His cock dragged against that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, the angle making it impossible to escape the overwhelming pleasure. Your bunny ears twitched, your fluffy tail quivering, and Xavier’s smirk widened.

“Aww, are your little ears twitching for me?” He teased, rolling his hips forward harder, making you cry out. “Fuck, that’s cute.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging desperately, and he let out a low chuckle. “Oh, you wanna play rough, bunny?”

Before you could respond, his hand shot up, wrapping around your throat, pinning you fully against the wall. His grip wasn’t tight—just firm enough to make you feel it, to remind you exactly who was in control. Your breath hitched, and Xavier leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Let’s see how much you can handle,” he purred.

His pace turned brutal, his hips slamming into you with an intensity that had your body shaking. You gasped, the pressure on your throat making everything sharper—the pleasure, the way his cock filled you so perfectly, the raw heat of his dominance.

Then, without warning, his free hand yanked your hair back, forcing your head up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown wide, a dark, hungry glint in those striking blue eyes.

“You look so fucking good like this,” he groaned, his fingers tightening just enough to make your breath stutter. “Choked up on my cock, all helpless and desperate. Bet you love this, don’t you?”

A strangled moan was all you could manage, and Xavier smirked.

“Oh, bunny, I felt that,” he cooed, his thumb stroking over your pulse. “Your pretty little pussy just clenched so tight around me. You want Daddy to ruin you, huh?”

The word slipped out before you could stop it. “D-Daddy—”

Xavier went still for half a second. Then, something dark flickered across his face, and his grip on your hair tightened.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”

His next thrust was punishing, slamming so deep you saw stars. You sobbed his name—his new name—and Xavier groaned, his control snapping completely.

“That’s it,” he growled, fucking you harder, his hand pressing tighter against your throat. “Say it again. Beg for Daddy’s cock while I fill you up.”

You did—again and again—until your body shattered around him, and Xavier made good on his promise, burying himself deep inside you with a low, satisfied groan.

－❤︎︎ ZAYNE :

Zayne had you sprawled across his lap, your back pressed to his chest, legs spread wide as he bounced you on his cock. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, keeping you trapped against him, making sure you took every inch of him as he thrust up into you, slow and deliberate.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned against your ear, his breath hot as his hands roamed over your soft body. “You’re squeezin’ me so damn tight.”

You whimpered, head falling back against his shoulder, your bunny ears twitching as the pleasure built with every deep stroke. His cock dragged against that perfect spot inside you, stretching you open, making your body tremble from the intensity of it all.

“Z-Zayne,” you gasped, fingers clawing at his arms, trying to ground yourself.

His lips curled into a smirk. “What’s wrong, bunny? Can’t handle it?”

Without warning, he dipped his head down, sinking his teeth into your shoulder—sharp enough to make you gasp, but not enough to break the skin. The sensation sent a shudder through you, your walls fluttering around his cock as heat coiled tighter in your core.

Zayne chuckled, licking over the fresh bite before sucking hard, leaving a deep, possessive mark. “Mmm, you look so damn good covered in my marks,” he murmured, pressing another hickey just below your ear. “Gonna make sure everyone knows exactly who fucks you like this.”

His grip tightened on your thighs, his thrusts picking up pace, bouncing you harder on his cock. You sobbed his name, hands flying up to grasp his hair as the pleasure became overwhelming.

Then, in a moment of pure desperation, it slipped out—

“D-Daddy—”

Zayne stilled.

His grip on your body tightened, his cock throbbing deep inside you, and you could feel the low growl vibrating in his chest.

“The fuck did you just call me?” His voice was rough, edged with something dark and hungry.

You swallowed hard, your ears twitching, heat flooding your cheeks. “I—I didn’t mean—”

A sharp thrust cut you off, Zayne’s hands moving to grip your hips as he fucked into you harder, rougher, dragging out a cry from your lips.

“No, no, sweetheart,” he rasped, his teeth grazing your throat before biting down again. “You don’t get to take that back.”

His pace turned relentless, his cock slamming into you with a new kind of urgency. One of his hands slid up, wrapping around your throat, tilting your head to the side so he could see your dazed, desperate expression.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough against your skin.

You moaned, body arching, fingers digging into his arms. “D-Daddy—!”

Zayne groaned, his hand moving between your legs, rubbing tight circles against your clit. “That’s my girl,” he praised, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your breath stutter. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you stupid—gonna fill you up nice and full.”

And with another sharp bite against your neck, he did exactly that—fucking you through your high, making sure you felt every last drop of his release inside you.

Zayne didn’t let up. Even as your body trembled, even as your thighs quivered against his, even as you tried to catch your breath, he kept fucking into you—deep, deliberate, relentless.

Your vision blurred, overwhelmed by the pleasure, the overstimulation making your body shake in his grip. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over your cheeks, and Zayne groaned at the sight.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he rasped, his tongue tracing over the tear-streaked path down your cheek before pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your jaw. “Look at you. Cryin’ already?”

You let out a choked sob, gripping his arms as your body tensed around him. Every thrust pushed you further into the haze of pleasure, your mind melting from the intensity.

Zayne fucking loved it.

“God, you’re so pretty when you cry,” he murmured, tilting your head back to get a better look. His fingers brushed away a stray tear, only to press down on your clit again, drawing another desperate sob from your lips. “Bet you love this, huh? Daddy fucks you so good it makes you tear up?”

You nodded weakly, your breath coming in ragged little gasps. Your ears drooped slightly, your fluffy tail twitching in response to the overwhelming sensation coursing through you.

Zayne smirked, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your breath stutter. “Poor little bunny,” he cooed, mock sympathy lacing his voice. “Can’t even handle it, can you?”

A sob tore from your throat, and he groaned, his thrusts turning rougher, more demanding. He was obsessed—obsessed with how wrecked you looked, how every whimper, every gasp, every tear made you clench down around him even tighter.

“You’re gonna cry while I fill you up, aren’t you?” he growled, his teeth dragging along the shell of your ear before biting down hard. “Gonna be a good little bunny and take everything I give you?”

All you could do was nod, helpless beneath his touch, your body too lost in pleasure to do anything else.

And when he finally pushed you over the edge again—when your body shattered completely, sobbing his name as you came around his cock—Zayne groaned, burying himself deep and giving you exactly what he promised, his hands gripping you tight as he filled you up, claiming you in every possible way.

Even as your body went limp against his chest, the aftershocks making you shudder, he didn’t let go. He held you there, pressing lazy kisses against your tear—streaked cheeks, smirking as he whispered,

“That’s my good girl.”

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xazse · 11 months ago

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I don’t know if you’re into it but liiikkkeee cow!hybrid reader x bull!hybrid jjk men or just any one of them! she’s a heifer ready for milking and breeding and the bulls have been reaaaally itching to get their hands on the only cow in the farm. like what if she tried going through the gaps in the fences chasing a butterfly or something and got stuck, left vulnerable to the bulls…. HQHSJWJNE I’m so mentally unwell I NEED FARM SEX

INTRESTED?

Synopsis: Being ignored isn’t something you like so why not disobey your owner altogether?

Notes: Oh wow this… this is true peak I love this. I took a different route with this! I still hope you enjoy it. If you still want me to do a version exactly like yours send me an inbox! No harm done

Pairings: BullHybrid!Toji x BullHybrid!Suguru x CowHybrid!Reader

Warnings: Hybrids + smut + bigboobed!Reader + milking + lactation + fem!reader + shy!VirginReader + implied chubby!reader + squirting + blowjobs + lots of typos sorry! + surprise at the end<34

PT2: HERE

I can imagine farmer!Gojo allowing you free roam of the farm as long as you stay away from the bulls that’s the only thing he takes seriously. He expects such a ditzy thing like you to listen and obey this one simple rule.

Farmer!Gojo has been extremely busy tending to the other animals on the farm that he completely neglects to milk you, even when you come to him whining that your boobs hurt he really can’t offer the time, even if you emphasize how heavy they feel, that you can’t milk them yourself.

In retaliation or at least to get some of the attention off the other animals you start wandering near where the bull!hybrids reside. You can see them but they can’t see you and damn are they big, they look ruff with messy faces that look like Gojo has been putting them to work.

BullHybrid!Toji is the first to spot you peering at them, he alerts BullHybrid!Suguru to check out the little cow seemingly lost.

Toji clicks his tongue to get your attention, you perk up, oh he’s got you now. He quietly ushers you to come closer. Suguru watches on as you do start taking little steps towards them, you look on alert: so Satoru has been spreading lies about them. That just won’t do, you need to come closer so they can clear their name!

You’re only a few big steps away from them, you won’t get any closer than this.

Suguru takes a minute to admire you, he hated Satoru for constantly keeping you locked up in your area, only he himself was allowed to see you. Even when he and Toji practically begged to meet you all answers were instantly met with a no. So getting to see you up close makes him excited.

Toji thinks you’re cute but far too innocent looking, you need to ruined and rebuilt what better man to do that than himself.

“Tits are a little full don’t you think?” Tojis the one who bluntly says that out loud. Suguru hadn’t looked but when he does they really do look full and heavy, it looks almost painful: poor poor thing.

“Want some help with em? I know you do.”

“Cmere, Satoru clearly hasn’t been doing his job too busy messing with the other female hybrids”

You feel a twinge of jealously at that statement but wanting to get back at Satoru outweighs that by a ton, so you step closer and take Suguru’s open hand whilst Toji puts his hand on the small of your back and lead you to their cabin.

You’re not sure who slips off your tank-top all you can feel and think about is big hands running all over your body, much larger and thicker than Satoru’s delicate hands. You do know that Toji is prying your thighs apart and filting himself in between them, those little shorts that leave too much of your pudgy ass and thighs leaking out immediately come off. Suguru takes your hand and has you feel up his cock, you’re damn near frightened at the size of the bull. His eyes look so lusty as they bore into yours, he knows he won’t get to have your cunt today so he’ll settle for your mouth.

Toji takes off your too tight shorts that show off the pudge of your ass and the thickness of your thighs, he takes the panties off as well, a moment of solace passes through as he stares at your glistening cunt, he’s waited far too long for this, too many attempts with Satoru at getting the chance to meet you and way too many no’s.

Toji is the reason you aren’t allowed near them, the day you got here he couldn’t stop staring, the next week he couldn’t stop staring it got to a point where ever cautious Satoru started only allowing you to roam the front, never the back. He prods at your sticky cunt with his tip, nudging your clit that elicits a soft moan out of you.

Everytime he touches your hole it’s already trying to suck him in, you’re a greedy one he can already tell. And he isn’t one to not let you have it, he can acknowledge that you won’t be able to fully take him without hours of prep so he’ll only give you a little past the tip. When he begins pushing inside he already feels how hot and warm you are.

You gasp when you feel him, your needy little body trying to explore that bit of pleasure from the stretch. He spreads your legs further holding them down on either side of you. Suguru taps the tip of his cock on your pretty lips, signaling for you to open them, you obediently listen and begin sucking the pre off.

“Fuck.. just like that..” he groans, his pretty black hair cascades around his body so beautifully, why was Satoru keeping such men away from you?

Suguru grabs a your boob and squeezes it rather hardly, a spurt of milk leaks out enticing him to do it again, a sigh of relief can be heard slipping calmly from you.

In a whiny tone you urge Suguru to keep doing that, it feels really good.

Toji is using all his restraint not to filt himself to be balls deep in your pussy, the creamy feeling of him only being able to push in a certain amount and pull away is driving him crazy, but he isn’t going to stop in fear that this will be over too soon, no they’re going to savor this and savor you.

Toji leans down and takes the other boob not occupied in his mouth, sliding the honeyed taste all over his tastebuds.

“Ah-mnnhh..” you push his head deeper, coaxing him to drink you till your dry. The other bull is making sure you’re paying extra attention to his sensitive slit, making sure you’re lapping up every drop that comes out.

Toji leaning down has his chest sometimes bumping against your little sloppy clit, it pushes you over, a loud yelp rippling through the air as you squirt just a little, that clearly won’t do! They’re sure they can pull even more from you, it seems you’ll be here for a while :(.

BOUNS:

When you come back to the main house with a shirt that isn’t yours, smelling like sweat and sex Satoru is fucking livid. He gave you simple orders to not mess with those bulls and you choose to disobey? He’s also baffled that his sweet girl would do something like that, he thought you were better than that.

“Toru, I had been asking you for over a week to help me!”

Attitude? Raising your voice at him? Who the hell are you and what have you done with his girl?

You move past Satoru and go to your shared bedroom, his breath hitches in his throat when you come out dragging the cover and a pillow and head towards the spare room.

“I-“ he attempts to get a word out before the door is slammed right in his face.

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