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luxaofhesperides · 4 months

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“You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the windows to your soul’ thing was until I saw yours.” + fluff + cafe AU ; requested by @kiv1!

He’s sure Danny didn’t expect to see him every other day after he casually mentioned that he had gotten a part time job at a local cafe. However, as his friend, it is Duke’s moral duty to only get coffee from that shop while Danny is on shift, specifically to annoy him.

Also, so he can support his friend, but being annoying takes priority.

It’s a routine now, for both of them. Danny clocks in for his shift and an hour later Duke is strolling into the cafe with his eyes locked on Danny’s. The rest of the baristas always shove Danny up to the register when they see Duke, taking over whatever order he was making. Even some of the other regulars turn their attention up to the counter, hoping for another few minutes of entertainment.

Danny sighs as he gets ready to input Duke’s order. It’s never the same one, because Duke would hate to be predictable and make things easier for Danny, but it has the side effect of making him realize that some of the expensive, seasonal drinks are really good.

It’s a bit hard on his wallet, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay for teasing Danny.

“Hey,” he greets cheerfully as he leans against the counter, grinning at Danny.

Danny sighs again. “What can I get you today, random customer that keeps bothering me.”

“A latte, but make it sweet somehow. And iced.”

“What size would you like?”

“Let’s go with medium today.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Duke leans closer to Danny, watching as he fights down a smile. “I just gotta say that you got gorgeous eyes. You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the window to your soul thing’ was until I saw yours.”

Danny considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “It kind of sounds like your trying to steal my soul through my eyes.”

“Why is that what your mind goes to?”

“Well. I watched Coraline last night.”

Duke stares at Danny, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “...Didn’t you say that movie gave you nightmares as a kid?”

“Yeah! And it turns out, it gives me nightmares even now!”

“And ruined my pick up line,” Duke complains playfully.

“It was too cheesy anyways,” Danny replies, putting Duke’s order into the screen. It prints a moment later, no doubt with some bizarre name since Danny refuses to actually name Duke on his orders, and then recites the price.

He pays and watches as Danny slaps the order onto a medium sized up, then tosses it over to the barista making the drinks. He’s not actually sure what her name is since she refuses to wear a name tag, but she always gives him a wave and also a rating of how good his pick up lines are.

“Seven out of ten!” she calls out to him today, then gets started on making his drink.

“I don’t see why you don’t flirt with anyone else,” Danny says, “I’m pretty sure my coworkers like your pick up lines even more than they like me.”

“Why would I want to flirt with them? Danny, I’m literally only here to bother you.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “Yeah, trust me, I know. My good looks just keep pulling in business.”

He says it like a joke, but it’s true. Duke has noticed it. Danny’s coworkers have noticed it. His manager noticed it and now has him out on the floor every shift. If they can get him to work on the chalkboard sign outside, or wipe down the two tables out front, then they do it, because Danny is Midwestern to his core and it’s very charming in a place like Gotham. He smiles at people as they walk by, happily answers their questions when they ask him what the cafe serves, recommends food and drinks for them, is generally a bright and nice person to everyone who comes near the cafe.

His cute looks draw people in, then his personality makes them stay.

It’s all customer service, of course, because Duke never gets the cute, sunny Danny. He’s left with the sarcastic, rude, and funny Danny that’s been his friend since they met in junior year of high school.

“Your eyes are really pretty, though,” Duke says, “Very blue. Sometimes green. It’s no wonder people keep falling for you!”

Danny reaches across the counter to shove Duke away, but he’s blushing, so Duke is counting it as a win. “Shut up. Now you’re just lying. My eyes are never green.”

“Yes, they are. Danny, I’ve seen them multiple times. They’re green sometimes.”

“No? My eyes have literally only ever been blue. They’re the bluest blue to ever blue. They don’t just turn green.”

They squint at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out who’s wrong and in what way. Duke’s pretty sure Danny’s wrong, since he can’t exactly see his own eyes, and Duke has spent an embarrassing amount of time just admiring how nice they are in different kinds of light. But also, they are Danny’s eyes, so he should know what color they are.

Then Danny’s coworker is setting down Duke’s drink on the pick up counter, giving Danny an excuse to get back to work.

“One medium oatmeal cookie iced latte for Cornelius Aggravating Douglas.” He holds up the drink and makes very direct eye contact with Duke, holding out the drink towards him.

“Did you really have to make the initials ‘Cad’?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Duke says, making Danny crack a smile.

“Are you heading out after this?”

Duke grabs a straw and sticks it into his latte, swirling it around some. “That was the plan, yeah. Got a few library books to pick up. Why?”

“I got approval for a half shift today, so I’m off in like ten minutes, if you wanna wait for me.”

“Hell yeah, dude! I’ll wait outside so I don’t distract you with my flirtatious winks again.”

“Get out of here,” Danny laughs. Duke lifts his drink in a quick toast, then gets out of there. He takes a seat at one of the tables out front, content to just people watch as he slowly sips his latte.

It’s cloudy out, but not raining, which is always a plus. As much as he’d like to see the sun, these kinds of days aren’t so bad, either. The wind still carries a bit of a chill, but the spring is steadily warming things up. There are tons of people out, a constant rush of movement, but a few do catch sight of him, then look towards the cafe, their steps slowing down as they think. Most keep walking, but Duke does manage to get a few to go in just by taking a long sip of his latte to really enjoy it.

Really, he should be getting compensated for the work he’s doing to draw people in. Danny’s not the only one who can do it.

Bruce keeps offering him money, so he doesn’t need to get paid, but maybe he can convince the other employees to talk Danny into accepting one of his pick up lines so they can go on a date one of these days.

It’s become a bit of a joke, but the first time Duke used a cheesy pick up line on Danny, he was being absolutely serious about it. He definitely shouldn’t have used a pick up line he found from a website centered on relationship advice, but he panicked and needed some extra help.

Instead of smoothly asking Danny out on a date, Duke froze up, blurted out the pick up line, then had to laugh it off with Danny and pretend it was a joke.

He still wishes he was able to ask Danny out properly before, but he’s also glad that they got to spend more time as friends, getting to know each other. It’s easier to be with him now, no longer so tongue tied and flustered.

Duke gets to fluster Danny now, which is much better.

And maybe one day his pick up lines will work! Sooner or later Danny’s going to question why he keeps doing this, and then he’ll connect the dots and understand what Duke feels for him.

As it is, he has yet to connect shit.

“My eyes are definitely blue,” Danny says as he walks out of the cafe, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “I checked while I was putting my apron away.”

“You’re still on that?”

“They’re blue.”

Duke gestures for Danny to come closer. He complies and leans down, letting Duke cup his face in his hands. He checks, considers, then checks again, and says, “They are indeed blue.”

“Told you they weren’t green,” Danny says smugly, pulling back.

“And I said they were green sometimes. Now clearly isn’t one of those times, but they do turn green!”

“I don’t think you should be allowed to say any eye-related pick up lines until you admit that you were wrong and didn’t know my eye color.”

Shaking his head, Duke stands up and pushes in his chair. “Just wait, I’ll catch it sometime and prove it to you.”

“Sure, whatever. Don’t you have library books to get?”

“Yeah, you coming with?”

“Obviously. Why else would I leave my wonderful job where I am left alone to make drinks in peace?” Danny knocks his shoulder against Duke playfully, then reaches over and steals his drink right out of his hand. He takes a sip, makes a pleased hum, and drains half of what was left in the cup.

“Hey!” Duke moves to take it back, which is naturally the exact moment Danny takes off running, effortlessly dodging everyone else on the sidewalk. He takes off after Danny, using his powers to make sure he can move out of the way of anything or anyone who gets in his path.

They’re past the block when Danny starts to slow down, taking another sip of Duke’s latte.

He puts on a final burst of speed and all but tackles Danny into the mouth of an alley, reaching for his cup. “Gotcha!”

“No!” Danny wails dramatically. He takes a step back and Duke watches as his power kicks up again, showing him a vision of Danny stepping on an empty can and falling back. Except he doesn’t really fall back? His foot rolls back on the can for a second, then goes through the can and settles back onto the ground where he catches his balance. Through the entire three second fall, Danny’s eyes are a bright green, brighter than Duke’s ever seen them.

His vision fades away and he moves to catch Danny, taking the chance to watch carefully as Danny’s foot does indeed go through the can. He quickly brings his gaze up to Danny’s eyes, which are green, but not inhumanly bright like they were in his vision.

Is the green not perceptible to normal humans?

He can probably only see it due to his powers. Which means he somewhat inadvertently outed himself as a meta.

Whoops!

Might as well just bite the bullet.

“Hey, do you have powers?”

Danny chokes, shoving Duke away as he coughs and tries to clear his throat. He looks panicked, wild-eyed, searching for an escape route. “What? No. Why would I have powers? Maybe you have powers, have you ever considered that?”

“I mean. I do have powers. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Hold up. Stop talking. You have powers?”

“And your eyes are green sometimes.”

“That’s. No, they’re not,” Danny lies. It’s a very bad lie, seeing how on edge he is, and as much as Duke hates making Danny feel like that, he did get some bad habits while training with Bruce and this is one of them: the need to keep pushing, chasing after clear answers regardless of what the cost is.

Duke shrugs, taking a sip of his latte, down to its last few mouthfuls, acting casual. “If you say so. But my powers don’t lie, man. As much as I wish they would, sometimes.”

“...Can we not do this out here?” The defeated tone Danny speaks with makes Duke hate himself. But he needs answers now. He needs to know if Danny is like him, if he’s safe, if he needs help. He needs it more than he needs Danny to like him at all.

“Sure. I know a few quiet places we can talk.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Danny mutters. “Did my eyes really give it away?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair, I also didn’t realize until literally right now, so I don’t think anyone else will figure it out just from staring into your eyes.”

“See, this is what happens when you keep flirting when you don’t mean it. Secrets get pulled out into the open and it’s bad for everyone!”

Duke lightly punches Danny’s arm, trying to lift the mood. “Hey, who said I didn’t mean it?”

“What?”

“Who said I didn’t mean it when I flirt with you?”

Danny blinks at him, confused, then says, “I mean, no one I guess. But it’s pretty obvious?”

“I only flirt with you, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Duke says, trying to ignore how his voice shakes slightly. “There’s another one of my secrets. Can we call it even now?”

“Oh!” The shock of the revelation distracts Danny from his earlier nerves. Which is great, because now Duke is the one who’s nervous. It’s worth it, though, seeing the pretty blush come to bloom on Danny’s cheeks. “So all those pick up lines—”

“Yeah.”

“And the pick up line made you realize my powers!”

“These pick up lines are doing the most,” Duke agrees. And then he realizes, “Hey, you what this means? I was right! Your eyes are windows to your soul!”

“I’m going to hit you,” Danny says, already winding back for a solid punch. He lets Danny hit him since it’s only fair for the stress he caused; as a meta, Duke knows how important secrecy is, how the difference between life and death can be just how well his powers are hidden.

“Are we even now?”

Danny considers him for a moment, then sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s be done with this for now, okay? Let’s go to the library.”

He refuses to entertain any conversation about powers or Duke’s feelings for him. It’s nice to spend time with Danny, but by the end, Duke is sure he can feel his heart start to crack in half. A sleepless night awaits him when he gets home, moving past his cousin’s attempts to talk to him in favor of flopping face down onto his bed.

But the next day, Danny grins at him when he walks into the cafe. He doesn’t have a new pick up line, choosing instead to act as calm and casual as possible to give Danny some space.

Also breaking routine, Danny insists on personally making Duke’s drink, writing something onto the cup before he fills it up with a floral tea.

You’re so fine, you made me forget my pick up line, is scrawled on the side of his cup when he gets it.

“Enjoy your drink, Cutiepie the Third,” Danny says with a shy smile.

“The Third?” Duke repeats, relief making him feel lighter than air, “Who are the first two?”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Get to class!”

Duke lets Danny chase him out, and holds in his laugh when he hears Danny’s coworker screech, “What was that?!”

Yeah, they’ll be fine. In the meantime, Duke needs to see if apology pick up lines are thing. Danny definitely deserves one.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #duke went from flirting to accidentally outing both himself AND danny as people w powers. and then lowkey confessing. disaster <3 #meanwhile danny has been slowly falling for duke bc of his cute and cheesy pick up lines that he always turned into a joke bc he didnt #believe that it was real. and also his coworkers would embarrass him if he got too flustered #they all ship him and duke btw. so do some of the regulars #coffe with a two minute show lol #thank you for the prompt!!

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wheeboo · 1 month

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big spoon, little spoon | boo seungkwan

SYNOPSIS. in which ask your boyfriend if he wants to be big spoon or little spoon. PAIRING. boo seungkwan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing (in the dark lmao), one curse word, terms of endearment, just boo being rlly affectionate :< WORD COUNT. 1.2k

requested from anon: congrats on 2k lovely!!! ❤️❤️❤️ for ur event may i please req seungkwan + #6 list one? thank u ahhhhh and congrats again - #6: "I don't think I have ever felt safer than in your arms."

notes: thank u my love !! i hope u enjoy <3 i had too much fun writing this pls 😭😭

join the 2k celebration!

"Okay, so big spoon or little spoon tonight?"

Seungkwan just freezes from where he stood in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush still dangling at his lips with bits of foam at the corners of his mouth. You're literally staring at him like you're waiting for him to answer and that it wasn't actually a rhetorical question.

"Are you asking me𑁋okay, wait." He marches back into the bathroom to hastily spit and rinse out his mouth, before coming back out with determination in his step. "Are you asking me if I want to be big spoon or little spoon?"

There's a playful lift to your lips as you sit down on the edge of his bed, and Seungkwan can very much see that slight mischievous look to your features. He can already feel the heat of the moment shoot up towards his ears, and he prays that the room is dark enough to hide it.

"Yeah, I am. Since, you know, we always sorta switch around every day," You say, nodding with a teasing grin. "And, well... I'm being considerate, as your partner and all. I gotta know all your preferences..."

God, Seungkwan feels like he's sinking into quicksand at his feet. Are you really at his place every day? He hardly ever thought about how often you were here, like how these nightly rituals had practically become routine now. He swears his heart does a little happy flip-flop at the thought.

It all started with movie night dates that bled into you two eating breakfast together, dinner dates that turned into you helping wash dishes at three in the morning, and then that particular comfortable silence that settled completely at this point. Every day, there always seems to be another reason for you to stay a little longer, another excuse to linger until the streetlights cast an orange glow through his curtains.

And Seungkwan knows he won't ever get tired of it𑁋he won't ever get tired of having you around. Not now. Not anytime soon. Not ever.

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling whatever embarrassment he had in his chest start to dissipate and replaced by a rush of warmth.

"Okay, well, as your very considerate and caring boyfriend..." He crosses his arms together. "what do you prefer?"

You purse your lips together, as if deep in thought. You didn't mind being either little or big spoon, but the thought of Seungkwan having his arms around you right now𑁋if you could describe it𑁋felt like being wrapped by a warm cloud, a feeling of pure, weightless security that chases away all possible worries.

But it isn't just about the comfort, although it's certainly a big part of it. It was the feeling of being safe and cherished, completely enveloped in his embrace. It was the feeling of home.

A slow smile graces across your face.

"I'll take little spoon," You answer gleefully, already crawling more onto his bed and tucking yourself under the covers with a little wiggle. Whatever façade Seungkwan had been putting up crumbles completely at the sight. A blush creeps up his neck, barely visible in the dim light, but his smile widens.

He chuckles softly as he joins you on the bed, slipping under the covers beside you. After flicking the lampshade off, he carefully maneuvers himself right beside you until he feels your warmth hit his skin. Then he slowly circles his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his body, with your back meeting his chest. A low, contented hum leaves his lips as he simply holds you.

You wriggle in slightly, and he adjusts his hold, letting an arm curve over your stomach and the other one under your body to pull you even closer, fingers momentarily brushing against the hem of your shirt. You feel your legs entangle together under the blanket, and you swear the world gets smaller, quieter.

Seungkwan thinks you fit perfectly in his arms; it's like you've always belonged there.

"Comfortable?" he asks, voice muffled against you.

Your chest rises up and down with a soft sigh. "Mhm..."

The moments that pass are purely silence as he continues to hold you. You could probably fall asleep at this second, yet you feel the way Seungkwan's hand drifts lower from your waist, tracing gentle circles on the fabric of your shirt above your stomach. It's light, just barely there, but it sends a shiver down your spine nonetheless.

And then you feel him moving around behind you, breath tickling your skin, before his lips press a brief, tender kiss to the nape of your neck.

Maybe you can sense the small smile to his face right afterwards, too.

"You're so soft," he mutters, but there's a bit of tentativeness to his tone.

Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. "I𑁋Aren't we supposed to be trying to sleep?"

"Sorry," Seungkwan apologises, but you can still hear the smile in his voice. He presses another gentle kiss to your neck, then draws back, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. "Just like holding you like this."

The giggle that leaves you is shaky, nervous, as if there's a small, timid butterfly trapped in your ribcage struggling to take flight. He can probably hear the way your heart is pounding like a damn drum right now, but he doesn't comment on it. Thank goodness.

A thought crosses your mind, and it takes you a minute to cave into flipping yourself over to face him. A groan escapes him from the sudden change in position, but he quickly settles. The two of you can't really see each other that well since the room was basically suspended in darkness, but you can clearly feel his presence beside you, all comforting and familiar.

"I like being held by you too," You confess quietly, each syllable laced with your own hesitancy. "I... I don't think I have ever felt safer than in your arms, to be honest."

The sound of Seungkwan's breath hitching echoes throughout the room. Are the walls closing in? He's not hallucinating or imagining any of this, right? He wishes he could pinch himself, but he's busy holding you, and you're the only thought filling his mind right now.

He leans in closer, ever so slowly. He can see the faint outline of your face thanks to the sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains.

But just as his lips are about to meet yours, you feel a sudden contact at the tip of your nose. You flinch a little, scrunching your nose up for a second, and Seungkwan pulls back immediately with a gasp.

"Oh my go𑁋did I just𑁋" He stammers frantically, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, uh..."

"Baby," You call out affirmingly, aimlessly bringing a hand up to cup his face through the darkness. Then you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, or specifically... the corner of his mouth. Close enough, anyway. "There we go."

Seungkwan just blinks, eyelashes batting furiously as he feels you shrink back into his hold. This time, you place your head at the crook of his neck, breathing fanning against his skin and making him shiver in your hold, even though he's supposed to be the big spoon.

"Let's go to sleep," You murmur lowly, and if he wasn't used to how pretty your voice sounds when you're tired by now, he should really get his shit together.

And so, Seungkwan just secures his hold around you, but not before mouthing a set of three words that he knows you can't see in the darkness, but hopes you can feel in his embrace.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @etherealyoungk

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spicyspiders · 5 months

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open the door to another door

5+1 Ghost/Reader + Size Kink

13k words (the longest fic I've ever written).

Warning for canon-typical violence and lots of smut.

Thank you so much @stupidslavicguy for being my beta for the story :) <3

Simon was a giant man, so it really shouldn’t be all that surprising he had a dick to match his stature. It was long, thick, and slightly curved to the left. The color of it almost matched Simon’s face too, a fact that you were sure would make it hard in the future to look at him and not think of.

“Woah,” you breathed, mentally kicking yourself for such a stupid reaction. You pulled your eyes away to look at Simon, a small smile stretching out your lips.

“Sorry,” Simon murmurs in response, a blush darkening his face.

“Sorry? For what?” Your hands cupped Simon’s face so your eyes could meet his.

“I haven’t always gotten,” he pauses and lets out a sigh, “the best reaction,” he finishes, the words coming out quickly.

“It’s,” you look back down, “intimidating I’ll admit,” your eyes go back to Simon’s before continuing, “but we get shot at almost daily. “This,” you take one of your hands away and wrap it around the hard length, “isn’t going to scare me off.”

Simon lets out a breathy noise as you give a slow pull on his cock, “yeah?”

“We’ll just have to go slow until I can take it all.”

“You still want it? All of it?” Simon asks, his hips pushing forward as your pace goes faster.

“Yeah–” Simon cuts you off as he swoops down to press his lips to yours. Your teeth clack together, but Simon makes it easy to ignore the pain as the sound of the moan he lets out fills your ears. Your lips stay locked even as Simon pushes you back, and then onto the bed when it hits the back of your legs.

“I’ll make it good,” Simon breathes as he gets your pants and underwear down. His mouth is against yours once more as he wraps one of his large hands around both of your cocks, “get you open and ready,” he says when he pulls away again.

“You’re gonna ruin me for anyone else,” you say around a moan. You couldn’t tell the future but were almost 99 percent sure of it.

“That just means I get you all to myself,” Simon’s head moves down to your neck to suck a dark bruise into the flesh. His fingers tighten and your hips jump as you feel the edge approach.

Simon lets out a shaky breath against the skin of your neck before his mouth is at your ear, “you can help me too,” he whispers into your ear. “I can never get the angle right when I try it myself.”

“Fuck, Simon,” you moan, one of your hands going to his hair to pull his face up so you can smash your lips on his, “gotta show me,” you say when you pull away. You fall over the edge to the thought. At first, it was building to the feel of his cock against yours, and knowing that soon, his big cock would be inside you. But now, it was also to the images flashing through your mind of Simon laid out on his bed with his thick fingers pressing deep inside himself, and his sweaty forehead pressed against his bedspread as he tried to get his fingers against his prostate.

Simon came after you did in white splatters against your chests. You almost immediately regretted not getting your shirt off as most of it ended up on your chest, “sorry,” Simon whined as his cock pulsed and shot out white ropes, one of them just missing the bottom of your chin.

“Was the hickey not enough?” You question, looking down to watch Simon’s cock shoot out spurts of white. “You’ve got to mark me like this, too?”

“Can’t help it,” Simon whimpers as the aftershock takes over. Your cock gives a twitch when the last of his mess ends up dripping onto your cock. He ducks his sweaty forhead into the crook of your neck to press against the mark he left there.

“I’m only teasing,” you respond, and place one of your hands to the back of Simon’s neck to run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “As long as the others don’t see.”

You let out a grunt as Simon lets his heavy weight rest on top of yours. He lets out a sign of contempt that nearly sounds like a purr, “you think they’ll get jealous?” He asks.

You laugh quietly, “we’d probably just never hear the end of it.”

Mouth

For the time being after that, you tried your best to keep what you had to yourself. As you suspected, it was easier said than done. It’s not like you were fooling around in other places around the base that weren’t your respective bedrooms, so you wouldn’t have to worry about that. What you did have to worry about was things that were more out of your control, like the absolute looks of longing you could see on Simon’s face whenever you would catch him staring.

Gaz and Soap were the first ones to pick it up. You honestly thought what gave it away was the dark mark on your neck Simon had left a week before, but it wasn’t until after it had healed that you were cornered by them.

It nearly looked like something from a horror movie the way they had matching smiles on their faces as they backed you into the corner of the kitchen. So close, yet so far from the pick-me-up you needed after rolling out of bed.

You turned, armed with a mug and a few hours of sleep as you heard them walk up behind you, “I was about to knock you out! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you hissed, your other hand covering your racing heart.

“You wouldn’t have gotten us both,” Gaz nodded at Soap, “it’d break on his hard head.”

Soap swatted at the back of Gaz’s head, his smile falling from his face. However, When he looked back in your direction, it was back.

“Was Simon too tired to come with you to the kitchen?” Soap questioned.

“I haven’t seen him today,” you glanced over at Gaz, “I just woke up.”

“Didn’t you wake up next to him?” Gaz asked.

Your brows furrowed as you looked between the two men and let out a laugh before responding, “I don’t have sleepovers like you two do.”

“They’re not sleepovers!” They both respond, making you laugh harder.

“Sorry, sorry. I forgot you call it spending the night,” you say as you set the mug down.

“You still haven’t come to one, but we understand now,” Gaz says, and the two share a glance.

If it was possible, your eyebrows would go lower to show your confusion, “understand what?”

“You can’t come,” Soap’s smile grows into a toothy smile, “because you’re dating,” he proclaims loudly.

You slap a hand over his mouth, “we aren’t dating,” you hiss. Soap’s eyes go wide before they fill with mischief, “if you lick my fucking hand I’ll–”

“Easy,” Gaz says, one of his hands going to your shoulder, “we’re just wondering,” Gaz pulls his hand away when you glare at him.

Soap pulls your hand away from the wrist, “we’re just happy we didn’t need to have the intervention we were planning.”

You don’t even want to ask, and you blame it on your lack of sleep when you feel your mouth form around the question, “intervention?”

“We could only watch the man pine for so long,” Soap responds.

“Pine?”

Not even answering your question, Gaz responds, “you both can come the next time we spend the night,” his voice full of excitement.

“Like a double date?” You ask, a slow smile stretching out over your face as you look between the two men. “He can only pine for so long!” You yell at their backs as they both turn and quickly leave.

Compared to Soap and Gaz, when Price finds out and speaks to you about it, it’s much more awkward.

It happens in the same place, but you’re a lot less cornered. If you wanted to, you could have just left and avoided the conversation, but it was better to just rip the bandaid off you guess.

“So,” Price says, dragging the word out, “you and Simon.”

“Oh my god,” you say into the cabinet, “you too?” you ask as you slam your mug down onto the counter.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he clears his throat before speaking again, “as long as you two are happy,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you for your blessing,” you respond sarcastically before turning to grab another mug.

“Is that for Simon?” Price asks after you set the other one down. The smile you can hear in his voice has you tempted to throw it at him.

“You’re going to the kitchen next time,” you say once you’re back in your bedroom and away from Price and the stupid smile plastered on his face.

“That bad, huh?” Simon asks from the bed. He looks way too good for someone who just woke up with his sleep tousled hair and sleepy eyes. “Where’s yours?”

“I changed my mind,” you say, placing the mug on the bedside table on Simon’s side of the bed.

“Want some of mine?” He asks.

“I’m okay,” you respond, sending Simon a tired smile. It was like all of your energy drained away once you had gotten out of the kitchen. Waiting for the inevitable conversation with Price after the one you had with Soap and Gaz had you on edge, so now that it was all over, you just wanted to sleep it off and gain your energy back.

It was still early in the morning and the sun had just started to rise for the day, so the only thing that illuminated the space was the lamp on your side of the bed. The warm glow made you sleepy, and the feeling only intensified when you were back under the covers.

“I didn’t add anything to it,” you laid your head onto Simon’s shoulder, “had to get away from Price,” you said around a yawn.

‘I guess that’s kind of my fault,” Simon places the mug down lightly before the arm you’re laying against rises to wrap around your shoulder.

“They did say something about you pining, but I think we’re both to blame,” you smile up at him sheepishly.

“I wasn’t pining,” Simon responds, scoffing. He looks down before a small smile appears on his face, “I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it,” he says quietly.

“You’re not exactly easy to read,” you say, laughing fondly. “I thought you hated me at first.”

“You might’ve been reckless and headstrong and rushed into danger-”

“Okay!” You say, ducking out from under Simon’s arm to sit all the way up, “but?” You ask, waiting for Simon to say all the great things about you. After all, you get all of your tasks on missions done, no matter how you tend to rush into danger and be reckless and headstrong like Simon just said.

“But?” Simon asks in confusion. The expression melts away into a grin when you jab an elbow into Simon’s side, “but,” he rubs at his side, “you always come out on top. No matter how much it terrifies me.”

His voice sounds like he wants to say more, but his mouth clamps shut and his eyes fall to his lap. You wait for him to continue, but before he does, he grabs at your wrists to pull you over into his lap. Your knees end up on either side of his legs, tangled in the sheets that pool around you.

“On our first mission after you joined the task force,” Simon begins quietly, his eyes glued to the shirt you wore to bed, “when you pushed Johnny out of the way and took that bullet for him, for all of us,” he goes quiet again, one of his hands moving to your shoulder where the scar is, “I sat outside your room while you rested, waiting for you to heal.”

You don’t remember much of that moment, only remembering the bang out of the gun before you were tackling Soap onto the ground. It was all a blur after that, the pain medication making everything spotty and difficult to remember.

What you could remember, or what you actually should say what you now realized from Simon’s words was that the shadows under your door that you thought you had been hallucinating in a medication filled haze was actually Simon.

“I thought you were a monster outside my door.”

“No, just me,” he runs his fingers softly over the cotton covering the scar, “Johnny kept laughing at me when he and the others would come check up on you,” he says quietly.

“That was months ago, Simon,” you whisper, your fingers running back and forth along the back of his neck.

“You’re still the same old guy,” Simon’s voice finds that same fondness again as his hand moves from your shoulder to cup your face, “but you’re mine now.”

You moved your hand from his neck to place it on top of his, “not much has changed, I guess,” you moved forward to press your lips to his to keep your mouth occupied and to keep it from saying the words at the tip of your tongue.

Kissing doesn’t help, it actually only makes it worse. You love Simon, and you’re all his.

You try again with another kiss, only to be met with the same outcome. At least while your mouth is occupied, it gives you less of a chance to let the words spew forth.

Simon’s tongue tastes mainly of the tea he just drank, but also with a hint of minty toothpaste. He must’ve ducked out of your bedroom to brush his teeth while you were in the kitchen trying to avoid Price. You made a mental note to ask Simon what the combination tasted like. Maybe the minty taste would be hardly noticeable as it was washed away by the tea, or maybe it would combine to taste like how orange juice and toothpaste do. The thought makes you shudder.

“Feel good?” Simon asks when he pulls away,

“Yeah,” you breathe. You weren’t about to tell Simon that your reaction was to the thought you just had, and not his tongue.

His hand moves to the back of your neck to pull you back into another kiss. His tongue was quicker than it was before to make its presence known. Simon’s cock also follows suit when you feel it poke at your hip.

“Feel good?” You parrot, smirking when you see just how pink Simon’s face is.

You press your lips to the redness on Simon’s cheek before moving down to his neck. You’re tempted to do what he had done and leave a mark, but you had other wants. Instead, you simply press a kiss to one side, but let your lips linger. You pull away, but not before dragging your lips across his pulse before continuing lower.

Simon’s legs spread to accompany your body, his feet all the way on either side of the bed. “Can I take these off?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

Wordlessly, Simon nods before he raises his hips to make it easier.

“No underwear,” you softly laugh once his shorts are gone. Laughing is an easy coverup to the nervous feeling that runs through your body. He wasn’t even fully hard, yet his cock was still impressive. And now, kneeling between his legs, this is the closest you have been to the largest cock you have ever seen.

“Can I-”

“Anything,” Simon breathes, cutting you off, “you can do anything you want,” he ends, his cock giving a twitch against his stomach.

You hear him gasp above you when you run your hands up his thighs and through the soft hair. The next noise he lets out is a low whine when your lips meet the head of his cock. It soon begins to thicken and fill with blood when you go lower and run your tongue up until you’re back at where your lips just were.

You wrap your fingers around the base, the saliva from your tongue making it easy to bring your fingers to your lips after you take the head of his cock into your mouth. You wish you could take it deeper and get it into your throat, but the most you can take only has the head, and a little bit of the thick vein along the underside resting against your tongue.

Simon doesn’t mind, at least that’s what you assume by the noises he’s letting out above you. You hear the soft sound of his head falling back into the pillows as you try to go lower. Not to your surprise, it feels as if you’ve barely taken any more of his cock before you feel your gag reflex threaten to bring tears to your eyes.

To compensate for what you can’t take, your forearm lifts from the bed and your hand goes down to Simon’s balls. Your fingers roll his heavy sack and if cock wasn’t going to choke you, the load his full, heavy balls would shoot down your throat likely would.

Simon lets out a groan, the noise going straight to your cock. Trapped in the confines of the shorts you had worn to bed, the most you could do was spread your legs to grind your cock against the mattress. The feeling distracts you from the suction you had on the head of Simon’s cock as it pulls a moan from your chest.

Under the feelings of your hands and mouth on his cock, the added stimulation of the vibration has Simon’s hips twitching up off the bed. The action catches you both off guard, setting off your gag reflex before tears are spilling from your eyes a moment later.

To your astonishment, Simon’s cock spills onto your tongue as you pull away. The feel of it twitching sends a wave of want through your body to take it deeper into your mouth until you can feel it twitch and throb in the wet heat of your throat.

You suck in air through your nose as you try to swallow all that his cock shoots onto your tongue. As you lay still, swallowing bitter waves of his come, Simon too lays still as you listen to his muffled moans hitting the pillow. It sends a rush of affection through your body knowing that Simon isn’t trying to accidentally choke you again, and the feeling then burns into lust at the noise of fingers balling up the sheets as he tries to hold back.

You drag your hips into the bed as a reward for causing Simon such pleasure. You let out another moan at the friction to your cock, and Simon answers with one of his. His hands unclench from the sheets slowly as the aftershocks of his orgasm subsides, his cock softening on your tongue.

You pull off his cock with a gasp and then feel one of Simon’s hands on your shirt pulling you up. He moves to kiss you, but stops once he sees the tear tracks on your face.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his thumb running through the tears to wipe them away.

“Yeah,” you respond, sending him a small smile, “sorry.”

“For what?” He questions, his brows furrowing, “I made you fucking cry I-”

“It was an accident,” you say, quickly cutting Simon off, “I wanted to take more, but I couldn't.” Your voice goes quiet, but you’re not quite sure why you suddenly feel so embarrassed. You had just made Simon come hard enough to still feel the warmth of it in your stomach, you had no reason to be embarrassed.

“You’ll get there,” Simon pulls your pants down low enough to hook the waistband below your balls, “then I’ll fuck your face,” he pulls you into a wet kiss, his tongue mapping out your mouth so he can taste himself on your tongue. His fingers wrap around your cock to stroke at the sensitive flesh, “you’ll take it so deep I’ll come straight down your throat.”

“That’ll take a long time,” you moan and glance down at Simon’s soft cock before you’re pulled into another kiss.

“That’s okay,” Simon responds before giving you another kiss. “Wanna take my time with you,” he murmurs. His soft words are full of promise that sends a rush of excitement through your body that ends at your cock.

White ropes of come shoot from the head, coating Simon’s fingers, and like the first time, also his shirt. You moan into Simon’s mouth as he kisses you again, making it hard to breathe as you gasp and try to keep up with the kiss.

“You’re coming so hard just from my hand,” Simon observes quietly, “I wonder what it’ll be like when I get them inside of you,” his fingers from your softening cock to your balls. Two of them sneak beneath your waistband to rub at your taint.

Much like Simon’s had earlier, your hips twitch forward at the feel of his fingers. You groan, more of your come dribbling out of the head of your cock as your aftershocks end.

Dirty and spent, Simon wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest. Your soft cock rubs against his, pulling a gasp from each of you.

“You’re sensitive,” Simon observes.

You roll your hips into his, laughing around the gasp that falls from your mouth when Simon whimpers, “you are too.”

Hand

Wanna take my time with you.

Those words ring through your head every time you both have had a moment to yourselves after that. Your free time was sparse, and you wanted to spend every moment of it that you could with Simon. It’s not like you had time to get Simon’s fingers inside of you slow enough for you to take his cock, but you learned quickly that there were other things you could do that you could both enjoy.

You knew that you wouldn’t have time to slowly try and take his cock deeper into your mouth and then into your throat, but you also knew that your mouth could get his cock wet enough that Simon could fuck your fist.

Simon groans when you get back onto your feet and pull him into a kiss, “you like how it tastes?” He asks after pulling his tongue free from your mouth.

“Do you?” You ask back. You raise your other hand up to his mouth, “spit,” you command, not even letting Simon answer.

He spits into your waiting open palm, keeping his eyes locked to yours, “good boy,” you whisper as you run the wetness on your palm across his cock.

You had to be quick. You didn’t even know how long it would be before you were called onto another mission or task to complete. You had just gotten back from one just nearly an hour ago and didn’t even give yourself the time to pull your gear off before Simon was pushing his balaclava up enough to press his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

It was intoxicating seeing such an intimidating looking man all decked out in his gear knocked down and only able to fuck your fist as he chased his pleasure.

Your cock was hard and aching in the confines of your pants, and though one of your hands was free, you kept it where it was and continued watching Simon. Luckily, the display is something you can’t take your eyes away from, so you aren’t even wanting to touch your cock.

“Wish we had more time,” Simon whines before you press your lips to his to swallow the noise. He moans into your mouth and when you pull away, his lips chase after yours. He lets out a loud noise of protest when you step away, the noise making you let out a quiet laugh.

You come back holding a tube of lube, Simon’s eyes glancing down to it then back to your eyes. He stares up at you when you push him back onto the bed. It’s messy and the sheets and blanket are all crumpled, but you’re too focused on Simon to care.

Simon makes a low noise in his throat when your hand returns between his legs. The lube makes it much easier to stroke up and down his cock, and the squelch of the lube rings out through the room. You rest your weight on his back and hook your chin over his shoulder to get a better picture.

“Better?” You whisper into his ear.

Simon leans back into your chest and fucks his hips up into the circle of your fist you’ve made for his cock. “It’s a little,” his voice breaks off with a moan before he continues, “cold,” he whimpers, his hips pumping up and down.

You laugh softly before nipping at his lobe, “sorry sweetheart,” you coo, “I’ll keep some in my pocket so it’s always warm.”

Simon’s head falls back onto your shoulder when you tighten your hand around his cock. You’re not even having to move your hand, Simon’s hips are doing all of the work for you.

“What’re you thinking about, Simon?” You ask. “Are you imagining its my hole you’re fucking and not my hand?”

Simon lets out a groan and the vibrations travel down his back to your cock where you’re kneeling behind him on the bed. The stimulation makes you gasp and your hips twitch forward into the rough material of his gear.

“Yeah,” Simon moans, “thinking about your cock, too,” he says, his hips speeding up.

“Yeah? Where, baby?” You ask, the pet name slipping free on accident.

“In my-” Simon tries, but his answer breaks off into another moan.

“In your mouth, or your hole?”

Simon’s answer comes in the form of another moan as he comes over your fist. You stroke him through it until his cock begins to soften and he lets out whimpers of overstimulation.

You pull your hand away and Simon lets out another noise, the rest of his weight falling heavily onto your chest. You wipe your hand onto the sheets, trying not to grimace.

“Did you just-”

“You want me to wipe it on your gear?”

Simon’s head jerks up, the skin of his neck that you can see from where he pulled up his balaclava is red. He clears his throat before responding, “no,” he says quietly.

You press your smile into the back of his neck, hearing the obvious lie in his voice. Your smile falls and your body tenses when you hear the sound of movement outside your bedroom door.

“Get your gear back on, we need to go, Now.” Even when muffled through the door, Price’s tone sounds just as commanding as it always does.

Thighs

You could admit that it was frustrating not being able to take care of your erection before you were whisked away to your next mission, but it was always something that lingered in the back of your mind.

You could only let out a sigh when you heard the sound of Price’s boots walking away. Simon looked at you like he either wanted to cry, or he wanted to cry for you. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed as you looked down at him when you got off the bed, his soft cock still hanging out of his pants.

To occupy yourself, which actually meant to make your fucking boner go away so the others wouldn’t see it, you walked out of the room to the attached bathroom. Not every base you were stationed at had one, but fortunately, this one did.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say to Simon when you’ve come back in with a wet cloth.

“I wanted-”

You cut him off with a soft kiss, “we’ll take care of it later,” you say once you’ve pulled back. “Plus,” you run the warm cloth across his cock carefully before tucking it back inside his underwear, “I need this to go away, and hearing about all of the things you were going to do to me wouldn’t help.”

“You’re probably right,” Simon responds before he presses his lips to yours again.

Once you’ve been briefed and are in the transport, you feel Soap’s eyes on you. You glance over at him but quickly look away, not wanting to give him the reaction. You ball your hands up into tight fights, grateful for the gloves you wore to avoid the crescent moon marks that your nails would leave.

You weren’t in the mood for his or Gaz’s words or looks, you just hoped the mission would go without a hitch.

Once on the field, you let your frustration fuel your actions. You weren’t sure if it was necessarily smart or healthy, but it kept you focused.

To no surprise of your own, you get shot at, which is normal, and do some shooting of your own. What does take you by surprise is when you feel a sharp pain hit your arm. Soap takes him down as you quickly apply pressure to the wound. You let out a sigh of relief when you’re able to find the hole in the wall where the bullet ended up, that’s the least you could ask for.

When the mission is over and you’re back at the transport, you feel lightheaded, but you were going to blame that on how far you had to run, not from the blood loss. Under Price’s careful eye, Gaz patches you up lightly, knowing that it would soon be taken off once you were back on base before you took a shower.

“All good,” Soap says when Gaz is done. He smacks lightly at the bandage and you swat his hand away.

Simon, who was practically fucking vibrating with anger locks a hand around Soap wrist and pries it away. The noise Soap makes almost pulls a laugh from your chest, but you have more important things to focus on, like making sure Simon doesn’t fucking break Soap’s wrist.

“It’s okay,” you say to Simon, wrapping a hand around his wrist, “you know Soap doesn’t hit that hard,” you reassure.

“Hey!” Soap squawks, and this time, you can’t help but laugh at the noise. “Control your fucking boyfriend,” he grumbles, rubbing at his wrist when Simon lets go.

You pull Soap’s wrist closer with your uninjured arm and look over the skin after pulling back the fabric that covers it. The redness of Simon’s grip is already nearly faded, “you’ll live,” you say and let Soap pull his hand away, looking like an injured animal about to go lick its wound.

You try your best to ignore the boyfriend comment, but every time you look at Gaz and Soap you’re reminded of it. You’re reminded of it not because of the close proximity of the two men, but because when you look at them, you’re reminded of your own relationship with Simon. No, Simon wasn’t fucking cradling your wrist in his hand like Gaz was doing with Soap’s, but the affection they showed each other made you think of your affection for Simon.

You could now understand why they would give you such smug looks and then look at each other. At least you were actually injured, but you would let Soap have his moment. You shook your head and rolled your eyes at them when they looked at you. In turn, Soap sent a glare your way, but it quickly fell when you saw his eyes move away and look to Simon.

Once back at base after all of the excitement has gone down, Simon acts as if he’s your shadow. You even had to push him by the shoulders out of the doorway to close the bathroom door. Not that you didn’t want to shower with Simon, you wanted to have a moment to yourself to breathe.

The water at your feet runs red once you’re under the warm spray, though, it doesn’t take long for it to lighten to a pinker shade before it runs clear. You press your forehead to the cool tile and your eyes slip shut. You breathe in and out slowly, struggling at certain intervals when the water makes the wound on your arm sting.

You clean yourself slowly, slower than you normally do before you turn the spray off. You dry off and put a clean, dry bandage over the injury under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom. A small jostle of pain runs through your arm as you put a shirt on, but you’ll take that over something that could have been much worse. Thankfully, it’s easier to put your pants on.

You let out a sign as you place your hand on the doorknob, not knowing what to expect from Simon on the other side.

He stands in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s at least dressed down a little bit, with just his undershirt and pants being the remnants of the rest of his gear. He steps up to you quickly, panting. He must have been pacing, you thought, trying to let out the rest of his energy.

“I’m-”

“Don’t!” He barks, cutting you off. When you both flinch at his tone, he lets out a heavy sign before he speaks again, “just let me check, please?” He asks quietly.

“I just put on a new bandage,” you say, holding your arm out.

He inspects it closely, holding it in careful hands. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest when he holds your arm up to inspect the underside of your arm. A smile makes its way onto your face, but when Simon puts your arm down, he looks like he’s about to break down. You don’t even want to think about how he looked when he was waiting outside of your bedroom door.

“Come here,” you command softly, opening your arms so Simon’s chest can fall onto yours as he buries his face into the side of your neck.

You feel his breath on your neck as he breathes you in and holds you close. His arms are almost too tight around you, but you don’t say anything. When the silence does break, it’s from Simon, “if something would have happened to you-”

“Nothing happened to me, Simon.”

You couldn’t see his face, but could practically feel his eyes looking down at your arm.

You brought your arm up to Simon’s head to run your fingers through his hair. It was wild and messy from where he had pulled off his balaclava. “It only grazed me.” After a few moments more of silence, you put some pace in between your bodies, just enough to place both of your hands on his shoulders, “I’m still here.”

“I couldn’t be here if you weren’t,” he responds softly, his eyes looking away from yours.

The words hit you hard, and there’s a voice in the back of your head saying you could say the same thing about him. When the words do come out, they aren’t the same as is, but you hope they put across the same meaning.

“I love you.”

Simon’s eyes widen as they look back up at yours. He claims your mouth in a kiss that has you feeling lightheaded again when he pulls away. “I love you,” he pants around the words when he says them, but repeats them over and over again as he backs you into the bed.

Simon wastes no time getting you naked before he’s ripping off the rest of his gear. When you’re both fully naked, you’re sent back to earlier in the day and you’re reminded of what you didn’t get. It gets you dizzy how quickly you get hard, but your hands stay wrapped around Simon’s neck as you keep kissing and kissing and kissing.

“Can I try something?” Simon asks, panting after he pulls back from the kiss.

It takes a minute for your brain to catch up and answer his question, but you give a quick nod after a few seconds. You sit down on the edge of the bed and watch as Simon opens the drawer to the bedside table and pulls out the bottle of lube you had used earlier. You almost expected Simon to get behind you on the bed and have a repeat of what happened earlier, but instead, Simon commands you in a soft voice to roll over.

He presses a kiss to the side of your neck after he gets on top of you, and you smile into the comforter when he presses another one to the other side. His hands bring your thighs together before you hear the sound of the lube being opened.

You let out a gasp when his wet cock is slowly making its way in between your thighs. Simon was right, it was cold. It heats up quickly though as Simon slides his cock back and forth in your thighs. His cock nudges your balls on each thrust that he gives, making you let out muffled moans into the bedspread.

When you turn your neck, Simon presses his lips to yours. You let out a noise at the loss of air, it wasn’t like you were going to break the kiss to tell him you had turned your head to breathe, not for him to kiss you. You could just breathe when the kiss was over, that would be okay.

When Simon pulls away, his hips still. You raise your ass up to be able to wrap your fingers around your cock, but Simon grabs your upper arm to pull it away.

“Let me,” he says beside your ear before his hand replaces yours.

“You’re going to crush me,” you respond, moaning as Simon bites into the side of your neck.

“Do you not think I’m strong enough to hold myself up?” He asks, laughing in your ear.

You knew he would be, but Simon was still a big man. Yes, there were times where the thought of Simon’s weight on top of you turned you on, but you didn’t exactly want to test out if you’d feel the same way after losing blood from an injury.

“We’ll see,” you respond, hiding your smile into the bed.

Simon’s huff hits the back of your neck before he keeps going. He grunts into your neck as his pace picks up. Occasionally, the slap of skin on skin rings out through the room, but each time the sound does, Simon slows down and places a kiss on whatever inch of skin he can reach.

It gets to the point where you nearly want to yell back at him, to beg him to go faster, but when you open your mouth to do just that, a moan spills out as your orgasm hits you. It comes as a surprise as you spill over Simon’s fist. You press your face into the bed to muffle your yells of pleasure as you’re finally able to have the release you craved.

You turn your neck again to breathe, but this time, Simon doesn’t claim your mouth in a kiss. Instead, he pulls his cock from your slick thighs and tugs at his cock. Your skin doesn’t even have time to cool before Simon is shooting ropes of white that land on your thighs, ass, and back.

For what feels like a long time, Simon stays kneeled above you, even after you fall onto the bed. You thought after you did, that Simon would rest his weight on top of yours and crush you into the bed, but the next time you feel him on you is when his mouth is on your thighs.

He licks at the skin where his come landed, continuing up your body until he reaches the small of your back. He does the same at the small of your back before he moves down to the globes of your ass. His saliva cooling on your skin makes you shiver, and you press back on shaky legs into his touch.

You doubt any of his come had landed on your hole, but Simon still spreads you apart licks with broad strokes. Your soft cock gives an interested twitch, still coated in the mess you made as you make a low noise in your throat.

Simon pulls away once he’s deemed you’re clean. Your hips meet the wet spot again, but you’re too tired to even move away from it. After he’s crawled back up your body, Simon does the work for you and rolls your back into his chest.

“I should probably go shower,” he murmurs into the back of your neck as he tangles your legs together.

“I’ll keep your spot warm,” you respond around a yawn.

Simon presses a kiss to your cheek before he leaves. You’re even too tired to crane your neck and watch his ass as he walks the few steps to the bathroom. You fall asleep to the muffled sound of the shower, missing when Simon whispers a soft thank you when he gets behind you in the bed, his spot nice and warm.

Just the tip

It feels as if Simon barely touches you for the next few weeks until your arm is nearly fully healed. Near the end of it, when your injury has scabbed over, it gets to the point you feel yourself getting hard when Simon lets his touch linger.

It leaves you feeling so fucking needy that you’re stupid for it. Stupid enough you convince Simon to spar with you. Simon was a big fucking man, and though he was big, his size didn’t slow him down. He was faster and quieter than most people expected, information that he used to his advantage whenever he could.

“Take him down!” Soap yelled from the side, stealing your attention away. You think Soap was still angry about his wrist.

Simon fixes you with a heated look that’s a mix of the glare he gave Soap, and determination. It takes everything inside you to not get hard.

Simon charges at you, but you stand your ground. You dodge out of the way before going back in, Simon had bulk and he was quick, but you knew you could use that against him. Or so you thought. He’s quicker than you are, easily getting his leg between your own to trip you up.

You go down hard. Though there was a training mat laid out, falling onto the arm that was grazed by the bullet a few weeks ago didn’t feel good. You don’t even notice the stab was broken and you were bleeding again, until Simon’s eyes zero in on it.

You glance down at it before you get back into position. You’re ready to charge, but Price places a hand on your shoulder, “as much as Soap wants to see you take him down, I don’t want you to get blood on the mat.”

You let out a huff, but you suppose he was right, “fine,” you grumble. You grab your towel and water bottle before exiting the room to your bedroom.

“This isn’t over,” you hear Soap say behind you, and don’t see the way he points a finger in Simon’s direction.

Soap jogs up to your side before he’s grabbing your arm, “you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine,” you respond, trying to keep your annoyance from your tone. You shrug your arm from his gasp before you walk through your bedroom to the bathroom to get to the medicine cabinet.

You swat his hand away when he tries to help and he scoffs loudly before finally giving up. “Want me to beat him up?” He asks.

You make eye contact with him in the mirror before you look away to finish placing the bandage on your arm after cleaning the area, “as funny as that would be,” Soap’s face scrunches up in offense, pulling a laugh from you, “he took me down fair and square.”

“It was a dirty play,” Soap responds. He jumps when a throat clears from behind you, “see you later!” He says quickly and claps you on the shoulder before leaving the bathroom and exiting your room.

Simon watches Soap the entire time, only turning to look your way when he’s exited the room.

You walk out of the bathroom as Simon goes to shut the door, “don’t start,” you say once Simon has turned around.

“You were bleeding,” Simon says softly as he steps close enough to grab your arm to inspect it. This close, he smells of deodorant and clean sweat, it’s intoxicating.

“I didn’t even notice at first,” you place a hand on his face, “not until you were staring at it,” his face still looked stormy with negative emotions. “You were just trying to distract me so you could win,” you add, hoping that your joke would make him feel better.

It works a little bit with the small smile that appears on Simon’s face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “you almost had me,” he says before he lets your arm go.

“Let’s finish it then,” you step closer until your chest is flush with his, “we’ve got the space,” you whisper against his mouth.

Simon opens his mouth as if he wants to protest, but you cut him off by mashing your mouth to his. He goes easily when you flip him around and push him onto the bed. Still connected at the mouth, Simon goes down with a grunt that breaks off into a moan when you push your tongue past his lips.

Realistically, it hasn’t been that long since you’ve gotten off, but without it being from Simon’s touch, it doesn’t take too long for your cock to be straining against the front of your shorts.

You were surprised you were even able to get him to spar with you. Maybe it was because Price, Soap, and Gaz were also in the room and he was trying to avoid Soap and Gaz from being able to make jokes about there being trouble in paradise. Or maybe it was because he missed your touch just as you missed his, even though he was the one that established this unspoken rule that he was going to avoid touching you until your arm had fully healed.

You had fun on your own, and even found entertainment in being loud enough for Simon to hear. There had also been times where it excited you over the idea of being caught, and whenever the feeling hit you, so did your orgasm. The clarity that came afterwards nearly made you forget, but it would always rush back when Simon would enter the room.

It was always pretty obvious what you had been doing, from the salty smell of your come in the air, to sweat that shone against your skin as you cooled down from your high. You thought that the site would bring Simon closer, but it only made him keep his distance. It hurt at first, but after picking up on the looks he would give you and the way his chest would expand slowly after he would enter the room, like he was trying to relieve what you were just doing through the smell alone, it just made you want him even more.

It drove you crazy with want and frustration, but at least Simon felt the same.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” Simon grits between his teeth, like the moan he lets out is actually one of pain when you grind your hips down into his.

“I need it,” you whine into Simon’s mouth. Your need only gets worse when Simon’s hands go below your waist band to clutch your asscheeks in his hands. It’s a tight grip that’s almost too painful, but that pain is overtaken by pleasure when Simon grinds your hips together.

You pull back from the kiss when Simon’s hands push the garment away to have better access. You raise yourself and look at Simon with lust filled eyes as you pull your shirt off. Your shorts are more difficult than your shirt, but it becomes much easier when Simon rolls you over and he’s on top helping you get them off.

“What would you have done if you’d have gotten hard while we were-” he begins to ask when he sees your lack of underwear, but you cut him off with a kiss.

“Hopefully this,” you answer, sliding your hands up his shirt.

Simon claims your mouth in another kiss when you pull his pants off and throw them to join the pile of the rest of your clothes. He takes your lip with him with his teeth, “quiet,” he says against your mouth, knowing that you were about to comment on how he didn’t have underwear on either.

You wrap your legs around his hips, high enough that when Simon grinds forward, his cock is sandwiched between your asscheeks. When he pulls back and brings his hips forward again, you both groan as the slick head of his cock catches on your hole.

On the second pass of the head, his hips still, making you whine in protest, “please.”

Simon groans like your words hurt him, “I can’t. I haven’t gotten you ready with my fingers,” he says, his hands cradling your face.

“Just the tip?”

“Just the tip?” Simon parrots, his eyes light up, like your question caused a lightbulb of realization to light up above his head.

If you thought it was crazy convincing Simon to spar with you, it felt as if you were out of your mind when he pushed your legs down and rolled you over.

You lay with bated breath for Simon and bring your ass back closer to Simon. You arch your back and you’re almost to the point of losing all self respect and pulling your hands free from under the pillow and bringing them to your asscheeks and spreading them open.

“Breathe,” Simon whispers into your ear after he leans down.

You don’t even realize how tense you’ve become until Simon’s whisper hits your ear. You let out a whine into the pillow when Simon’s cock is on your hole, rubbing the moisture of his precome around your hole. To add to it, Simon spits on your hole and rubs it around the tight pucker with the pad of his finger.

You both gasp when he finally presses the head inside, “so tight,” Simon moans, his body blanketing yours. The sheen of sweat on your body makes it hard, but he grips your hips tightly in a bruising grip, keeping you still.

You squirm against his grip, trying to get his cock deeper, even though you know you shouldn’t without the proper preparation. You could feel that your orgasm was there, all it needed was a little push.

“Stop!” Simon holds you down into the pillow by the back of your neck, his tone sharp.

His words make you freeze and you clench around what’s inside you. It makes Simon groan and pull his hand away to instead put it on the middle of your back. His other hand moves from your waist to below his cock. In between your balls and his cock, he presses his fingers to your taint.

You come with a yell into the pillow, Simon’s hand pressing you down into the bed as you shake from the intensity. His other hand moves the tiny distance from your taint to wrap around his cock.

He leans down into the crook of your sweaty neck to muffle his moans as he strokes his cock. It doesn’t take him long for him to come and once he does, you moan when you feel his spend hit your hole. Some of it goes in your hole, but the most of it splatters and leaks out, going down your taint right where his fingers just were.

“You’re filthy,” he says, his voice deep and rough.

You turn your head to pant open-mouthed, your cheek against the pillow. You wanted to repeat the same thing right back at him, but your brain has difficulty getting your mouth to get the words out.

Your brain finally does catch up when you feel the bed shift as Simon leans down to lick at your hole. “You’re fucking filthy.”

“At least I clean up the messes I make,” he says before going back in. Unlike last time, his tongue goes inside as he licks out the mess his cock made. He groans deep in his chest when you bring one of your hands back to his head to get his tongue deeper.

When Simon deems you clean, your hole now wet with spit, you pull him by the hand in his hair up to where you can get your lips against his. You make a noise into his mouth when his tongue presses inside, past your teeth until his tongue is against yours.

“We should probably go shower,” Simon murmurs, though he really doesn’t look like he wants to, laying on the pillow beside yours.

You run a hand down his back. You’ll get up and take a shower after you’ve rested your eyes for a little bit. You feel Simon press his lips to the bandage on your arm before you feel the weight of his arm around your body as it pulls you closer.

Hole

Normally, when it was time for you to go home, you were always excited to finally get back, but when Price finally told you that it was time for a much needed break that wasn’t on base, you were terribly nervous.

You thought it would be okay, it’s not like you and Simon had spent every waking moment together, but the feeling that hit you when Simon turned in the opposite direction of your bedroom to go pack up his own, you knew it wouldn’t be okay.

You stayed silent when Simon came back into the room with one of his suitcases, and when he went into your dresser to pull out a few of the shirts he brought from his room to yours, you bit hard into your lip, fearful of what might come out if you opened it.

“I don’t have much, but I hope you’ll have the space for it,” he says as he folds the clothing before placing it in the bag.

You froze from your place beside him, wondering if you heard what he said correctly, “what?”

“Do you have space in your closet? Or I can shove it in a drawer if you need me to,” he answers, not looking up from the suitcase as he finishes folding his clothes.

“Yeah,” you shake your head softly and smile down at your hands as they rested on the clothes you still had to fold, “I’ve got plenty of space.” The clothes could wait, you decided.

Simon makes a noise of surprise when you turn his neck and press your lips together. His hands move to your waist to pull you closer as he responds eagerly to the kiss. He chuckles softly after he pulls back and you chase after his mouth.

“We have to finish packing,” he says against your mouth.

“We’ve got time,” you respond. Not really, but kissing Simon was much more enjoyable than packing.

After the impromptu make out session that had to be cut short before your hands were down each other’s pants, it’s finally time to go.

You let out a dramatic sigh when Soap steps up to you to say goodbye. You can’t quite tell if the way his bottom lip trembles is actually real, or if he’s just trying to be funny. You pull him in for a hug before you can think more on it.

Gaz, who you had just hugged, joins in to sandwich your body between theirs. You nearly expect Simon and Price to join in, but they only stare at you. Simon just looks bored, whereas Price has a small smile on his face.

When you’re on the plane, one of Simon’s hands finds yours, and his fingers rest on top of yours until it’s time to get off.

Your key feels foreign in your fingers, but once you’re through the door, it all feels familiar. The air feels stale, but that’s something you could easily fix the next day by opening up the windows.

It’s nighttime. It feels oddly permanent the way night always does when it feels like the rest of the world is settling in. The world being your area, at least. The feeling really only hits you at home. Back on base, it didn’t matter what time it was, you could be whisked away at any time to do what was asked of you.

“I’ll save the tour for tomorrow,” you tell Simon as you walk through your house to the bedroom. You almost want to slow down to make sure Simon is able to follow you through the dark, but the sound of his footsteps stays close behind you.

You flick the light on and place your bags into a corner of your room. You grab your bathroom essentials before walking past Simon, letting out a laugh when you see the way he’s looking all around the room.

You wait for Simon to join you as you toss your toothbrush into the cup near the sink and toothpaste onto the counter, “you can finish looking around if you want,” you say when you hear Simon enter.

“I’ll wait for the tour tomorrow,” he responds as he wraps his arms around you. He hugs you to his chest for a moment before placing his toothbrush and toothpaste in the same spots you had. It makes your heart swell. When you arrived back on base, you didn’t expect to be coming home with another toothbrush sitting beside yours when you arrived home.

You help each other undress before you’re stepping into the shower. It’s wet limbs and pointy elbows under the warm spray. You expect it to get on your nerves when Simon ends up accidentally elbowing you, but it only makes you laugh. Even after it happens again and Simon’s face is going red (but that’s just probably from the heat), you feel nothing in your heart but love.

“Fuck,” you say under your breath after pulling the curtain back, “forgot the towel.” Your nipples grow hard from the change in temperature when you open the door and go through your bedroom to grab a towel from your bag. You could’ve checked under the sink, but you were going to wash everything in your bag anyway, so it really didn’t matter.

Simon stands naked in front of the sink brushing his teeth. If he wasn’t so fucking good looking, you’d be annoyed as he dripped all over the bathroom rug in front of the sink. You towel off quickly in the doorway before he’s able to catch you staring.

“Cold out there?” He asks around the toothbrush, one of his hands going to your chest to pad his thumb across one of your hard nipples.

You swat his hand away and step around him to pull on the shirt and shorts you also brought with you, “forgot to adjust the thermostat,” you say as you grab your toothbrush.

Simon’s toothbrush makes a soft noise when he places his back into the cup. You watch with a soft smile on your face as he places the cap on his toothpaste and puts it neatly beside the cup.

“Are you going to watch me?” You ask, your toothbrush held close enough to your mouth to smell the minty paste.

“Yeah,” Simon answers, saying it like it’s the easiest question in the world to answer. He grabs the towel you just used and dries himself off as you brush your teeth.

Back in your bedroom, you suddenly feel shy. Turning off the light makes it easier, especially with how sad it makes you to see Simon cover himself up. It’s only a pair of underwear, but still. In the dark, he finds your body as if on reflex and pulls your back to his chest.

Simon lets out a sigh, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck, “what are we going to do tomorrow?”

“Probably go get groceries after I check what’s left in the cabinets,” you respond as you run your hand up and down his arm.

“Good. I think we left the lube back on base.”

“I’ll add it to the list,” you say around your smile.

You feel Simon press a kiss to the back of your neck. It makes you feel crazy knowing just a few minutes ago you had been nervous, and now, you were surrounded with a level of comfort you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I love you,” Simon whispers behind you.

“I love you too,” you respond before you’re falling asleep.

Soap calls a few weeks later.

“Hello?” You asked into the phone. The caller ID said unknown, you probably shouldn’t have answered it in the first place.

Soap’s voice comes through the other line. Yeah, you shouldn’t have answered it. “Hey!” He says, his voice full of excitement.

“Soap?” You hadn’t expected to hear from any of them so soon. “And Kyle!” You hear from a distance on the other side of the line.

You were confused for a second before your brain was able to catch up, “hey, Kyle. Hey, Johnny,” you say, a smile coming onto your face.

“How are you?” Johnny asks, “how’s Simon?”

“Good,” you glance over into the kitchen where Simon was, “we’re good. How’d you get my number?”

“Price gave it to us. He also told us to tell you that he was sorry. For whatever reason.”

You shook your head, your smile growing. You were sure you could forgive Price just this once.

“Price? What, not on a first name basis?”

“Oh, we are. It’s just that I’m the better John so I refuse to call him that.”

You’re unable to contain the laugh that bubbles up from your chest, “I miss you guys,” you say into the phone once your laughter has died down.

“Who do you miss more?” Johnny asks.

“You ruined it,” you answer with a sigh.

That sounded like he said Kyle,” you hear Kyle say.

You’re tempted to hang up once you hear them start bickering, but with it being the most entertainment you’ve had since you got home, (outside of Simon) you stayed on the line and tried not to laugh too hard. You didn’t need to be roped up in their lover’s quarrel.

“Trouble in paradise?” You ask.

“Fuck off!” They both yell in unison.

“Who was that?” Simon asks when you walked through the doorway of the kitchen.

“Kyle and Johnny,” you respond as you lean against the counter. It looked like a tornado had gone through your kitchen with all of the cabinets being open, but you just blamed it on Simon still getting used to where everything went. Or maybe that was just how he liked to put things away. You were learning new things about each other every day.

“How’d they get your number?” Simon asks as he chuckles.

“Our commander betrayed me,” you said sadly.

“You poor thing,” Simon responds. He closes one of the cabinets before he walks over to place a kiss on your cheek.

“Gaz said he wants us to go on a double-date together,” you go to help Simon put the rest of the groceries away, but really it’s just because you want to stay close to him.

“What kind of date?” Simon asks.

“Don’t know,” you smile as you think back on what he said, “he said he thinks we’re lame for the walks we go on and we need more excitement.”

“I like our walks,” Simon responds, a hint of offense in his tone. It would be so easy to fall into a routine of staying inside the house, especially after how tiring the last few months were on base, so the walks were a great way to get outside.

“One night out won’t kill us,” you say as Simon finishes up with putting away the rest of what was in the bags, “at least I hope it won’t.”

“We have plenty of fun here,” Simon responds. The placement of his hands on your hips after he steps forward goes to show that he’s talking about a different type of fun.

“That’s just with us-”

Simon cuts you off with a kiss that leaves you gasping, “I tend to keep it that way,” he says, his words full of heat and possessiveness.

It’s just another day when Simon finally gets his cock inside you. You weren’t really surprised though, it’s like you expected a grand romantic gesture with candles, rose petals, and chocolate. Truthfully, the only thing you expected was for a lot of lube to be involved.

Just from him getting you ready with his fingers, you feel fucking soaked from the lube. “Simon,” you whine when you pull away from the kiss his lips had you locked in, “we’re going to run out.” He ignores your words and swoops down to kiss you again.

“You didn’t buy any when we were at-”

“No!” You moan as his two fingers brush against your prostate, “I’ll never be able to get the lube out of these sheets,” you say as you feel the lube that drips down your taint joins the small puddle between your legs.

“I’ll clean them, baby,” he says against your mouth, “just let me get you ready,” he whispers. You both hold your breath as a third finger, coated in too much lube in your opinion, presses to your hole. “ So fucking tight,” Simon looks down to watch his finger go slowly inside, “not going to last when I’m actually inside.”

“You won’t be able to get inside if you use all the lube,” you bite back.

Simon chuckles, his other hand goes to one of your nipples to pinch it, “cheeky little fucker,” he growls. His fingers move in and out of you slowly, but at the sound of the moans you let out, the speed of the thrusts of his fingers increase.

“I’m ready,” you say to Simon before he tries pressing in a fourth finger. The thought makes your cock throb against your stomach. With the pace Simon was going, you were sure he would slowly work you up to it, to take his entire fist and not just three of his fingers.

The thrust of his fingers slows down before he pulls them out. Your hole feels open and ready for his cock, and you feel a rush of excitement when the wet head of it kisses your hole. Your legs tighten around Simon’s waist and you hold your breath in anticipation.

Above you, Simon’s eye clamp shut as he breathed heavily through his open mouth, “are you ready, Simon?” You question as you reach your hands up to cup his face, “we can stop if you want,” you say softly.

Simon leans down to press his forehead to yours, “don’t want to hurt you,” his voice comes out soft.

“I can handle a bit of pain,” you say, a small smile on your lips. You lean up to press your lips to his in a chaste kiss.

“I know you can,” he responds with a small, sad smile. He moves down to press a kiss to the scar on your shoulder, and then to the scar on your arm. “I love you,” Simon whispers after he comes back up.

“I love you too,” you say back, your arms wrapping around his neck.

Simon smiles again as he reaches a hand down to press his cock against your hole once more, “I meant it about not lasting long,” his mouth falls open as his cock slowly goes inside as he inches his hips forward.

“That’s okay,” you reassure, “I probably won’t either.”

“Yeah?” Simon asks, his cock still going inside your body, “I’ve wanted you for so long. Wanted this,” he moans as he finally bottoms out.

“This is all yours, Simon,” you say back. You clench down on his cock, the both of you groaning from the feel of it.

Simon pulls out almost as slowly as he went in. He keeps his eyes locked on yours when he pushes back inside. His balls rest heavily on your ass and it’s almost hard to comprehend that you finally get to have this. It brings you back to months ago when you first sucked his cock and the amount of come went down your throat. It’d probably leaked out of your hole as he came to join the mess of lube on the bed, but this was a stain you didn’t mind.

As Simon’s thrusts pick up, you can already feel your edge approaching. The fat head of Simon’s cock hits your prostate, bringing you closer and closer to coming. Your hand goes between your bodies to wrap around your aching cock to stroke to the rhythm of Simon’s thrusts.

The bed creaks as Simon fucks forward into your hot, willing body. The headboard bangs against the wall, and the volume of it matches the sounds you each make.

Once you start stroking at your cock, it doesn’t take long for you to come. Your other hand digs into Simon’s back as yours arches off the bed, like you’re afraid the rest of your body will come off the bed too. Your mouth falls open into a soundless scream as your cock shoots ropes of white up your chest.

Unaware that you closed your eyes, they open to watch Simon above you continue to thrust inside your body. You pull your hand away from your cock, the mess of your orgasm evident on not only your chest, but Simon’s as well. Mixing with your spend is the sweat on Simon’s skin as his pace increases before stuttering off.

Simon’s thrusts come to a halt before he switches the position but moving your legs until they’re on your shoulders. His eyes are droopy and filled with lust as he raises himself up onto his knees enough to watch his thick cock disappear into your hole.

“Simon,” you call, a smirk appearing on your face when Simon doesn’t pull his eyes away, “Simon,” you repeat. “Feel good, baby?”

Simon nearly folds you in half when he leans down to kiss you, his tongue fucking into your mouth like his cock was. He pulls away to answer, but all he can muster up as he moans is an enthusiastic nod.

“Gonna come for me?” You ask, your hands going to cup Simon’s face. When Simon starts up his brutal pace again, you almost think you’re about to get hard again as his cock goes deeper than it was before, but Simon’s stuttered pace continues before his head falls back. His hips come to a halt as his heavy balls draw to his cock as he pumps you full of his come.

Simon’s head falls to your shoulder as wave after wave of his orgasm washes over him. His moans turn to whimpers as his hips give an occasional twitch as the aftershocks set in. You don’t feel him pumping you full of his come like you had thought of earlier, but you can sure feel the way his cock throbs and twitches before it starts to soften.

Simon grunts when he moves your legs off his shoulders, his soft cock falling free from your hole. He presses a kiss to your ankle when he puts down the second. He falls down on top of you in a sweaty heap, your body having no choice but to take his weight.

It soon sets in how gross you feel from the sweat all over your body and the drying come and lube on your skin, but when you start to feel his come leaking from your hole, a warm feeling rushes through you.

You feel Simon let out a chuckle above you, “I’ll need some time before I can go again,” he says after your cock gives a twitch at the feel of his come leaking out.

“It’s not me,” you respond, one of your hands running up and down Simon’s sweaty back, “it’s got a mind of its own.”

Simon laughs again as he rolls off of your body and onto one of the pillows, “you okay?” He asks softly, one of his hands runs up your chest.

“Yeah,” you say, sending him a smile. You turn on your side to face him and place a hand on his cheek, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he responds as he leans into the touch. “I’ve never done that before,” he says quietly. “Never been inside someone, I mean.”

“Yeah? Have you ever had anyone inside of you?” You ask, your voice just as quiet.

“Just my fingers,” he responds, a blush rising on his cheeks below your fingers.

“I’ll take care of you like you took care of me,” you respond. Your cock gives yet another twitch at the fact that you’re learning you have been and will be Simon’s first. A hot flare of possessiveness and jealousy runs through your body all at the same time. Knowing that someone has gotten to have Simon in the way you’ve had him and made him feel insecure enough to warn you about the size of his cock makes you angry. You would make sure to never make him feel like that.

“I know,” he responds before pressing his lips to yours. Before the kiss can become wetter and more open-mouthed, he pushes you onto your back by your shoulder before he makes his way onto your chest to lay down.

You let out a grunt at the weight but you wrap your hands about him to keep him close. One of your hands traces imaginary patterns onto his back, while the other goes to his head to run your fingers through his hair.

“Before we go out with Johnny and Kyle,” Simon’s voice goes quiet and shy, “I want to take you out on a real date. Just the two of us.”

“We can do that,” you say around a yawn as your exhaustion sneaks up on you and your eyes fall shut. The last thing you feel before falling asleep is Simon’s smile against your shoulder and his soft lips against the scar as he kisses the skin.

Bonus

“Ready?”

Simon gives a nod against the pillows. You could tell he was nervous based on how tense he felt, but his face didn’t show it.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” you say to him quietly before leaning down to kiss him.

“Not nervous,” Simon responds, but his face finally gives it away when a blush rises up his face, “just excited,” he whispers.

You laugh against his mouth,” I can tell,” you say after pulling back, your eyes on his half hard cock. You run a finger from his balls to the head of his cock. Once at the head, you drag your finger through the precome at the slit, and when you pull your finger away, a string of his precome follows your finger.

That finger is the same one you use to work Simon open. You don’t use as much lube as Simon had with you when he first fucked you, but you made sure you had plenty.

Simon’s legs spread further, his feet nearly hanging off either edge of the bed. You run your other hand up and down his thigh soothingly when you press your finger to his hole, “ready?” You repeat.

“Yeah,” Simon whispers, and then your finger breaches his hole.

He’s tight and warm around your finger as you go slowly inside. You keep a close eye on his face as you work your entire finger inside. Simon looks more relaxed than you expected him to be, but it’s really only because he’s hiding any discomfort behind the action of biting his lip.

“Can I hear you?” You ask Simon before placing a soft kiss to his lips, “please?”

After Simon nods, you press another finger inside. His mouth opens as he lets out a whine, and when you crook your fingers, his whine turns to a loud moan.

A slow smile spreads across your face, “feel good?”

Simon nods, but before he can respond, you press your fingers into his prostate again, just to hear him moan again. He finds his words when you pull your fingers free and replace the two with three, “what do I do?”

“Just lay there and let me take care of you, baby,” you respond. “Want me to touch you here?” You question, running your free hand over his cock.

Simon lets out a groan when your fingers glide over his cock, “want your mouth,” he says, his hips raising off the bed.

You lean down and run your tongue along the length of his cock, starting at the root, and ending at the tip. You moan when the flavor of his precome hits your tongue, as does Simon when you run your tongue around the sensitive glands on the crown of his cock.

Simon lets out another moan when your three fingers are going inside of his hole. His hips move again, but this time, they’re moving to fuck down on your fingers. His cock lets out a glob of precome onto your tongue when your three fingers are on his prostate, and you press them to it over and over again to see if you can get some more of the taste.

Instead, what you’re rewarded with is his cock gushing come into your mouth. It catches you off guard, but you do your best to swallow down what his cock lets out as the sound of his moans fill your ears. The sounds make your neglected cock throb, but you keep in place until Simon’s moans subside and his hole relaxes around your fingers.

You pull your fingers free slowly and press a kiss to his hip bone when he whimpers. He pulls you up with a hand around the back of your neck to get his lips pressed to yours. Simon groans into your mouth when his tongue runs along yours, tasting himself all over your mouth.

“Your turn,” Simon’s voice is rough and gravely, way too low in your opinion for a man that just had his first prostate orgasm and should be tired.

“Are you sure? I can just-”

Oh, Simon was so sure. Sure enough in fact that minutes later, your cock is in his mouth.

He gets you sat on the edge of the bed and makes his way between your legs before taking your cock into his mouth. He had moaned at the flavor on your tongue when he had kissed you, so it was no surprise that when he got the head of your cock in his mouth, he was moaning around it as he tried to take you deeper and get the flavor further down on his tongue.

You gasp when he puts your legs over his broad shoulders, to make it easier for his fingers to dip further down between your legs. You open your mouth to try and question him to see what he and his fingers are up to, but all you can do is let out noises of pleasure as Simon’s fingers go past your balls to skim over your taint.

One of your hands sits stretched out behind your body, so you can stay up and watch the display of Simon’s lips stretched around your cock. The other hand goes into his head to run your fingers along his scalp, “so good, Simon,” you moan as your fingers run through the soft strands of his hair.

Simon looks up at you with his dark, tear-filled eyes. They spill over when your hips twitch forward, feeding Simon more of your cock when Simon’s fingers go lower to brush the dry pad of his fingers across your hole.

Your body bows over his head as your hands move to grip his shoulders tightly, trying to keep your body in place as your orgasm racks your body. Simon obediently swallows down what shoots from your cock as feelings of euphoria rushes through your body.

You open your eyes as your body uncurls from around Simon’s head, panting as you try to calm your racing heart. “Fuck, Simon,” you whisper down at him as you wipe the tears away from his face. Your soft cock falls from Simon’s mouth with a wet pop before Simon is joining you on the bed.

“You okay?” You ask Simon, his naked thigh resting beside yours.

“I’m good,” he responds, his voice rough. A few minutes later, when Simon has you laid on his sweaty chest, he lets out a sigh before he speaks again, “I got a message from Johnny the other day.”

You raise yourself up on your elbow to look at him, “what’d it say?”

Simon rolls his eyes before answering, “that he’s excited for our double date.”

You lay back down onto Simon’s chest, laughing as he lets out another sigh, “why’d you agree to this again?” Simon questions as his warm hand settles onto your back to run soothing circles over your skin.

#x male reader #x male reader smut #ghost x male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #ghost x male reader smut #simon riley x male reader smut #bottom male reader #also just a heads up the reader bottoms for most of the story except in the last part #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

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slvttyplum · 7 months

Text

im having suguru brain rot

didn’t edit this so idk.

suguru walks in the kitchen where you’re popping grapes in your mouth scrolling on your phone.

“yo.” he says as he slides in front of you opening the fridge.

his hair is all messy and his wife beater was cropped showing his v-line and happy trail, your eyes subconsciously sliding all around his body.

the slam of the fridge startling you, you snap out of it.

“suguru whats your major again?” you blurt out. the truth was, you needed him. you didn’t care what conversation was needed you just wanted to hear that—

“psychology.” he deadpans, sliding past you again walking towards the pantry. your eyes follow his tall figure, his back muscles pushing out the shirt, and the wall those black sweats fit around his small waist.

sexy voice. sexy mind. sexy body. sexy major.

you could never really catch a glimpse of his face since both of you have two different schedules, when both of you were home he would stay cooped up in his room.

that didn’t bother you much since it did make you a little uneasy to have a male roommate in the first place, you hated to admit it but you were shallow, that man was fine.

so him being a guy living with you wasn’t a bother.

you slipped another grape into your mouth thinking to yourself, what’s something else you could ask him or talk about, this was your only chance, he rarely spoke to you.

“breaks coming up, are you going back home?” you ask, your voice cracking.

you mentally curse yourself, that wasn’t a good one but you gotta do what you gotta do.

he turns his head looking at you, his dark eyes looking you straight in the eye and his eyebrow and lip piercing shining from the light.

damn he’s fine.

he turns his head back to the pantry then closes it, he wasn’t feeling any of the good options today, maybe he could…

he folds his arms against himself leaning his butt against the counter near the pantry.

“unfortunately no, i have way too much to do here and i don’t live close so.” he says, playing with the piercing on his lip.

your eyes light up, this was fate, it had to be. you would make it your life goal to make sure you guys talk everyday.

“awe bummer, i’m not going home either, i don’t feel like flying.” you say tucking your hand in the waistband of your pants trying to warm it up.

suguru scans your figure and looks back at your face, his dick jumping.

“maybe we could hang out.” he says leaning off the counter.

your eyes almost fall off hearing this, this was all working in YOUR favor. oh universe what did i do to deserve such kindness you think to yourself.

a grin forming on your lips but you quickly wipe it off, “yeah i would love that.”

he smiles, his smiley piercing shining. god please.

“good, i’m a little hungry can you do something for me?” he asks leaning on his side only a few inches away from you.

your ears start ringing with anticipation, were you a genius or were you a genius. he’s going to ask you on a date, this was your time.

“can you lay across that table, i want to eat.” your jaw drops and the grape that was in the hand drops.

what?

“sorry, huh?”

he’s smirking and his hands drop down walking towards you, almost nothing helping the distance.

“sorry if that came off too blunt, it’s just… you look good and im starving here.”

your throat is closing by the second, your pupils forming in the shape of a heart, if he was saying what you thought he was then…

“fuck!!” you yelp out. suguru grabs your hand placing it on top of his head, telling you to grab.

he tongue swirling all around you, spit mixed with your liquids dripping off his chin.

his eyes glued to your pussy, his hands gripped around you.

his tongue piercing gliding over your clit every second, your body shivers from the cold touch every-time.

your hands sliding and grabbing his hair, where did he learn this oh my—

“god! right there!”

his eyes are rolling as his hands grip your thighs with force, his nails digging into you.

saliva was foaming inside your mouth, dripping off the side. the knot deep inside your stomach was tightening, and you felt like you were dying.

his tongue sliding from deep inside you to sucking your clit, the pattern and rhythm stopping your climax.

you tug on his hair, “keep sucking.” his eyes shoot up to you, smirking. he takes one of his hands off your thigh, sliding it under him and right into your pussy.

your breath hitches and a sharp feeling explodes in your stomach, back arching, your liquids leaking.

you flop back on the table, your head spinning.

suguru gets up licking his lips. “i’ll be back tonight, maybe we can do this again.”

your head shoots up and the heart shapes still in your eyes and the ringing in your ear was still there.

“yeah yeah for sure.” you say wiping off the drool.

he smiles at you and walks back to his room, you slide off the table clearing your throat.

for sure…

#college au #jjk x reader #getou suguru x y/n #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto x you #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚plumdrabble

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auteurdelabre · 1 month

Text

SO MUCH TO LOSE - CHAPTER 9 - dark!Joel x f!Reader

Rating: 18+

Words: 7.4k

Chapter Tags: sexual tension, mentions of suggested abuse, girl-bonding, Joel being Joel, reader being oblivious.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE

A/N: Y’ALL really came through with the comments! It made me stay up far too late typin’ away. But I’m glad to deliver this to my sweet audience and I hope you continue to bless me with your thoughts, reblogs and funny tags. Also lemme know if you have money and wanna give me some because your girl is BROKE y'all. BROKE.

Wednesday - my bb, my light, my sweet please never stop commenting on A03 because I read those like others read stories. I laugh, I cry, I emote. Never stop.

Also, two people should NEVER ride a horse when one’s in a saddle. It’s horrible for the horse! But this is fiction so y’all gotta forgive me for it, all right?

Lastly - Chapter 10 is.... gonna be memorable. That's all I'm sayin'.

SO MUCH TO LOSE: CHAPTER 9

You toss in bed a short while later, your mind going a mile a minute. You can't get the memory of Joel's furious face out of your mind. You can’t get Ellie’s sad eyes and her tensed shoulders to leave you. You can’t stop imagining what happened the second you left their home.

Part of you wanted to run right back to that house on Rancher Street and to beg Joel’s forgiveness for intruding. It was never your information to gather, not your place to pry. It was information never given willingly and for that you understand his fury. You understand it better than most.

But the other part of you, perhaps the part that had brought you to tears as you left had been the sight of Ellie's horror at your question. Of would Joel hurt her? Because in Ellie’s eyes you saw her own lingering question reflected.

Who hurt you?

It's too complicated to get into, too personal and that's why you think you feel this overwhelming sense of guilt. Because if you'd come home to the space you shared with someone else and heard them divulging your biggest secrets, your deepest wounds, you can't say you would have acted any different.

In fact, you might have been worse.

You turn your head, noting that it's only now starting to grow dark. You hadn't even bothered with dinner. Just pulled on your sleeping clothes and robe and thrown yourself into bed. You wanted to forget the hours before, wanted sleep to claim you and help you erase the day.

But you can’t. You just lay there twisted in your sheets, feeling like a stranger in your own body. You consider trying a warm shower when you hear a sudden thudding on your front door. This isn't Ellie or Jennifer. This is someone else and you have a pretty good idea who.

You think that you should just stay in bed, try to ignore the insistent pounding. But you need to pay for your mistake. This is your penance. You move down the stairs and to the front door opening it slowly.

Joel is standing on your porch, his broad frame looming over your door. His hands are on either side of the frame, braced as if he has to physically hold himself back.

When you pull the door open he juts his chin forward aggressively. He hasn't even bothered putting a jacket on, despite the weather. He's wearing just his green flannel and a scowl that makes you take a physical step back.

"Joel-"

"You think I'd hurt Ellie?" Joel says, teeth clenched. "Hurt my own fuckin' kid?"

You glance quickly over his shoulder noting that the street is deserted. Your street is one of the newer ones, less populated. It makes you nervous to see him looking so furious with no witnesses. But you answer him anyway.

"I don't know you at all," you tell him with a wince. "For all I knew you could have and I felt responsible."

His jaw is clenched tightly, ticking as he glares at you. You can see the fury building there in his frame and it makes you tremble. But you swallow, raising your spine and fixing him with what you hope is confidence.

"You yanked me around on patrols before," you remind him, swallowing your fear the best you can. "You're known for being ruthless with raiders. Most everyone is terrified of you. Is it really that much of a stretch?"

For the first time this evening you think that what you're saying registers with Joel because he blinks and some of that inky black in his gaze grows a soft brown.

"I've never hit you. Never come close." His voice is soft, almost admonished.

"No," you concede, "but you haven't exactly been gentle either."

Joel takes in the way you're cowering, the way you flinch when he shifts. He sobers, lowering his hands from your doorframe, pushing himself back from you.

"I'd never hurt a kid," he murmurs. “I’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

He takes a moment to look at you, really look at you. You wonder if he sees the blotchy pink of your tear-stained face or the dark circles under your eyes from barely sleeping this week.

Joel's eyes narrow and without stepping closer to you it feels like he gets nearer when he speaks low and even.

"Your dad hurt you or somethin'?"

You're momentarily thrown by this question from Joel. He's never really asked you anything this personal before. You toy with the idea of closing the door on his face because he doesn’t deserve to know you this way. But you think of how vulnerable he must feel with you having all this information about his past, about his Sarah, and you answer.

"No," you tell him honestly. “My dad was amazing.”

"Your mom then?"

"No."

You cross your arms over your chest, indicating that the conversation is now at an end. You've shared as much as you are willing to at this point in time.

Joel looks equally stoic despite the nature of his questioning. His eyes drift over your body for the first time since he arrived at your doorstep, fixing on your sleep clothes and open robe before shooting back to your gaze. You pull your robe around your body, shivering at the cold draft coming in from the outside. Joel clears his throat.

"Ellie never should have told you all that about me," he says. "Wasn't her information to share."

"It was my fault. I never should have pressed her for details," you admit, talking to his shoulder. "It wasn't my place."

Joel exhales through his nose by way of reply. The two of you stand in quiet thought before you feel compelled to ask.

"Did Ellie get in a lot of trouble?"

When he doesn't answer you finally move your eyes from his shoulder to his face, surprised to see he's staring at you. He's not going to answer you, you realize. You barely know him and it's between him and his daughter.

You worry that you've messed everything up with Ellie. You feel like it's your fault that the fight happened at all. You think of how pleasant the afternoon had been with flower making and hair brushing. You hate to think of that going away. You swallow, gathering your nerves.

"Am I still allowed to teach her to bake?"

After a moment Joel sucks his teeth and nods shallowly.

You shift where you stand, one hand still on the doorknob. It's warm under your palm. If Joel was anyone else you'd invite him in for a hot drink given the weather. But as it's him you simply stand awkwardly across from him.

Joel peers into your face, gaze darting from each of your eyes to the next and back again. There's something about his stare that feels warm and heavy, something endless.

"Get some sleep."

He says it softly, a husky command with none of its usual bite. Then he's gone, giving you one last look before he's taking off down the stairs of your porch. You watch his tall frame head down your street, scissoring through the night air until he's nothing but mist.

And strangely the second you close the door you feel your feet taking you to your bed. You hear his voice quietly rumbling in your mind as you crawl under the covers.

Get some sleep.

Permission. A command. A hushed order that gives you the freedom to just sink into the warmth of your bed, to close your eyes and feel your breath even out.

And in seconds you're fast asleep.

///

Jennifer greets you when you open your door to leave for patrols the next day, crowding your doorframe.

"I thought we could walk to patrols together."

"Okay." You pull your jacket around you, bracing yourself.

You've known popular girls like Jennifer. The kind that roll their eyes and call you sensitive if you don't like how they treat you. You assume that this is what awaits you now.

"I'm so sorry for how I acted at the Bison."

You can’t say you were expecting that.

"I was trying to impress Joel," she continues. “Make it seem like we were all in on the joke together.”

When you see her standing there with her gloved hands clasped, looking apologetic you feel your animosity dropping from you like an unnecessary jacket.

"And I just... I never should have put you on the spot,” she continues. “I was just trying to go along with things, but that's not how friends act. My mama raised me better than that."

You know that what she's saying is important, but all you can focus on is that she just confirmed you two are friends. You have a real friend.

"S'okay," you offer quietly.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Did you get my cookies?"

"Yep, they were good."

You don't make it a habit to lie to friends but she looks so proud of herself that you can't help it. She beams, clearly proud of herself. She doesn’t need to know that they’re at the bottom of your waste bin.

"I'm so glad you liked them."

You want to say something kind to Jennifer, something that lets her know that you’ve forgiven her. Maybe its guilt from the fact that the cookies were barely touched. Whatever it is you scan her body, landing on her beautifully tailored jacket.

“I like your jacket,” you tell her, observing the dark green and black of the pattern and hood. “It’s really pretty.”

“Thanks, I made it myself,” she tells you proudly. “Barely any time at all.”

“Tell me you didn’t just make it just for this patrol,” you say fixing her with a look. Jennifer goes pink and starts giggling. “Jennifer!”

"Oh hush,” she says elbowing your side gently.

You can’t help but laugh at your friend as the two of you head off to patrols, chatting pleasantly as you make your way down the path to town. Jennifer is animated as always, her voice lilting and cheerful.

“Luke was really disappointed when you took off," she mentions with a sly smile and side eye. "I just know he's excited about today."

You flush, eyes on the ground, not saying anything. The truth is you're very excited to see Luke today. You want to learn more about him, see his likes and dislikes.

"Joel left soon after you did," Jennifer tells you with a frown after a few moments. "But I mean he came and had a drink with us so that has to count for something."

"Totally."

You've reached the fence and see three of the horses lined up, tied and waiting. Luke is patting Glimmer but he waves to you both as you approach. Your stomach flips pleasantly at the sight of his light hair falling into his eyes.

Chestnut whinnies gently as you approach, his long neck arching towards you. You smile as he ambles over to greet you the best he can.

"Hi boy," you whisper, gently patting down his long muzzle. "You having a good day? Huh?"

"Hiya Glimmer," Jennifer coos. You think that this must be her usual ride on her patrols.

"Morning Luke," you offer, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Mornin'." Luke’s smile is shy but earnest. "We missed ya this week."

"Yeah?"

He nods and you feel your face grow hot because you are sure Jennifer is staring at you both with a smirk. "Yeah, missed shootin’ with ya."

You busy yourself with running your hand over chestnuts flank, all the while trying not to read into things. Maybe Luke just likes having a fellow peer there?

Or maybe he likes me.

You have to admit to yourself that you have a crush even if crushes feel so adolescent in your mind after everything that happened to the world. But there’s something that makes you want to laugh at the way some things never change. Humans will continue to lust, even after the earth is swallowed by disease.

"Looks like a simple enough job," Jennifer observes looking at the few pieces of lumber strapped to the horses. Enough that it's good for building but not too heavy for them to carry. You go to reply when you hear a booming voice sounding out behind you.

"S'a fucking joke. Gettin' them all the way over here just to be one short."

Joel is arguing with Hank, one of the crew. Hank is an older with an under bite and bushy eyebrows. He fixes Joel with a formidable stare. He’s one of the few in Jackson City not intimidated by the elder Miller.

"I don't know what to tell ya Joel," Hank shrugs. "It's all we got."

"What's going on?" Jennifer asks, swanning over to the men. She stands close to Joel, her shoulder brushing against his. You notice as his dark eyes sweep over her face as he notices her.

"Only three horses available today," Hank explains to her. "Others were taken out."

"Why?"

"Heard about an intercepted shipment of medicine nearby. Sent a bunch of folks after it. Anyway, one of you'll have to double up."

Joel makes a huffing noise before shouldering past Hank and hauling himself up onto Midnight. He's made it very clear he won't be riding with anyone. That leaves you, Jennifer and Luke. In habit you go to grab Chestnut’s bridle. Jennifer is determined not to go down without a fight.

"I'm small," Jennifer says in a breathy voice you don't really recognize as hers. "I'll double."

She looks directly at Joel who is going to great lengths to look anywhere else. If it weren’t so awkward you might have laughed, but instead you try to hide your smile behind your glove.

Oblivious to the dynamic, Luke pats the side of his horse.

"You can ride on the back of mine if you want Jenny," Luke offers with a friendly tip of his head.

Your smile immediately dies. Why didn’t you volunteer? Jennifer pauses, waiting for Joel to inject.

Get the fucking hint, Joel.

He doesn’t. He just shifts the two guns he’s carrying on his back, clearing his throat.

You see how crestfallen Jennifer looks, but it’s for only a moment before she shines a bright smile Luke's way as she hauls herself up behind him, lacing her hands around his middle.

"Thanks, Luke."

With that settled you yourself mount Chestnut, stroking his mane gently. Hank comes over to hand you a backpack. It’s heavy and you make a soft huffing noise when you hoist it onto your shoulders.

“Nails and hammers,” Hank explains. “You got it?”

“Yep,” you nod, trying to look in command of yourself with Luke’s eyes on you. “No problem.”

You feel the coarse hair of Chestnut under your gloved fingertips and squeeze your thighs to prompt him forward. You follow after Joel in habit with Glimmer carrying Luke and Jennifer close behind. The ride to Teton is quiet, but not in a tense way, more distracted.

The backpack as it stands is a problem though because you’re wincing with every jostling step Chestnut takes. The bag is impossibly heavy and it digs into your shoulders like a too-tight bra.

You hear Luke and Jennifer quietly talking with one another on Glimmer. There are quiet giggles and you hear Luke chuckle softly. You feel irritated at Joel not taking Jennifer on his horse with him. Of course he wouldn't - Joel gets his way every time. So you've lost your chance to bond with Luke.

You could be on the back of Glimmer with him. Your arms could be around Luke's waist right now, your thighs bracketing his. You could be feeling the warmth of his body seeping into your front.

But you're not.

You're stuck in the middle listening to Luke's gentle chuckle behind you and watching Joel's broad frame in front of you. As you stare at Joel with the guns on his back your mind drifts to last night.

Have you and Joel moved past your mutual disdain for one another? You’re not quite sure. Right now you’re irritated with him, but there’s less bite to it today. You think maybe you’re both at a polite acceptance of one another. Joel looks back every now and again, his eyes sailing to you and the group behind you. You roll your shoulders, gritting your teeth when the bag digs into the flesh there.

“’Bout halfway there,” he tells the group even though you’re well aware.

Joel is a natural leader checking in on his troops. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was in the forces before all of this. You know that he worked in construction and that he must have been around horses considering he’s such a capable rider. But that’s it.

Perhaps he and Sarah rode horses together. This thought comes to you despite knowing nothing about the girl. Nevertheless you wonder what she looked like. Was she dour and broad like Joel? You imagine her as bubbly and quick with his dark hair.

You watch as Joel slows Midnight and Chestnut quickly overtakes him, their hooves trotting along the earth until the two of you ride side by side. You’re confused and you feel Joel’s eyes on your profile and after a moment you turn to see him staring at the bag and then back to your face.

“Gimme the bag,” he orders gently.

“I’m fine,” you lie. You wonder if he can see the strain in your neck as you say this. He rolls his eyes, huffing out his nostrils.

“You need to be carrying a weapon,” Joel informs you. “Won’t do much damage to a Raider with a heavy backpack.”

He’s right. He’s not doing it to be nice; he’s doing it to be efficient. How Joel of him.

You want to fight him on it but the thought of having the heavy thing off your shoulders is too appealing. You relent as the horses come to stop beside one another. You tug off your bag, handing it to Joel who straps one of the guns to the side of it and slings it over his muscled shoulders. The bag doesn’t even look oversized on him and he carries it with no strain whatsoever.

He hands you off the large shotgun and you throw it over your shoulder, thankful for the padding in the leather sling. Without another word Joel makes a clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth and he and Midnight quickly head up the group once more.

When you get to Teton Village and the four of you do the usual perimeter check you’re feeling bolder and a little bit restless. You feel like you want to impress Luke but can’t think of any meaningful way to do so. He’ll be upstairs hammering and nailing while you stand watch at the window like a senior citizen waiting for the postman. It’s almost embarrassing that you were brought along at all.

When you approach the outpost though you have an idea on how to appear more capable. You urge Chestnut on ahead of Joel and tie the sweet creature quickly to the tree before jogging up the large old library steps.

“I’ve got the lock,” you call over your shoulder casually. Joel is already off his horse and striding towards you with several pieces of lumber slung over his shoulder; Luke is helping Jennifer off of Glimmer. You turn back, fiddling with the code confidently.

It doesn’t work.

“Fuck.”

You try it again, the same one you were taught and then you tug. It’s still not working.

“C’mon,” you whisper angrily to yourself, “c’mon you piece of shit.”

Again the silver tabs are moved to the correct code and again you jerk it only to find it sticking fast. Is it the encroaching cool weather? Your confidence is hanging by a thread when a large ungloved hand comes out of nowhere, coming to gently bat your fingers away.

“Code changed last week,” Joel says lowly behind you.

You feel the warmth of his taller body behind you, his words stirring the hair at the back of your head. You say nothing as you watch his fingers fiddle with the new numbers, sliding them into place. You want to memorize them for next time. His arm rests beside your shoulder as he works his thick thumbs slide the silver tabs. Finally it unlocks and Joel removes the lock, placing it in his pocket.

“Sorry you couldn’t impress your little boyfriend.”

You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation despite the fact that only he and you could hear the murmured remark. He moves past you, Luke and Jennifer carry the remaining lumber. The four of you make your way into the house and wordlessly Joel heads upstairs to begin.

“That was so sweet of Joel to take the bag,” Jennifer whispers to you with hearts in her eyes. “Chivalrous.”

You don’t reply. Why shatter her illusion of who she thinks Joel is? Maybe with her affection and softness he could become that. Maybe with the right woman Joel Miller is chivalrous and romantic.

Maybe it’s just with you that he’s an antagonistic asshole.

The three of them pad up the stairs with the supplies as you stand by the door. You know you're not much use upstairs so you busy yourself writing in the log notes about the repairs. You hear the banging and the conversations upstairs as you move from the small room towards the window of the fireplace room; your eyes surveying the grey of old snow.

You yawn after a short while, bored. There’s nothing out there. There never is in town. That’s why you like Teton village so much. It’s quiet and sleepy and there’s no real danger. Perhaps it’s the large buildings or the lack of footprints. Whatever it is, you find yourself relaxing.

Joel and Jennifer jog down the stairs with Joel not passing you a glance. Jennifer gives you a thumbs up and mouths “getting more wood”. You hear the sound of Luke hammering upstairs and take a moment to consider your next moves.

This may be your only chance.

You scurry up the steps towards the far room, following the sound of Luke’s hammering. You stop when you see him, mid hammer. His back muscles ripple under his t-shirt, a line of sweat down the middle. It’s warm in this room, and judging by the repairs done they have been working quickly and efficiently.

“Hey,” you offer as you approach him, heartened when he turns and flashes you a friendly smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt. You turn away at the sliver of taut abdomen that shows itself when he does. Your whole body is going tingly.

“Hey, you come to help us?”

“Oh I would just slow you down,” you say with a shy laugh, your eyes landing anywhere but his handsome face. “Every time I try to hammer the nail goes crooked.”

“You just haven’t been taught correctly then,” Luke ventures, “come here and I’ll give you a lesson.”

You try to keep yourself from jogging over, attempting to appear casual. He holds his hammer out to you as you approach.

"Here.”

You take it from him, facing the sill of the window that he’s been working on. You nearly jolt when you feel his hands land on your shoulders. He notices your flinch, his hands flying off of you at the first contact.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry just distracted,” you insist, feeling your cheeks heat. “Keep going. I’m fine.”

Luke’s hands go to your wrists now, placing the nail in your left fingers and positioning it on the sill.

“You just need to start with it straight. Lotta people angle it without thinking and…”

You know that Luke’s talking more but you’re having trouble focusing because you feel him pressing up behind you, his hand sliding over yours and helping you to hold the nail in place.

“A lot of people make the mistake of hitting the nail shallowly a bunch of times instead of once or twice with harsh blows,” he explains. You feel a warmth go through your body as Luke's curls over yours. He’s so tall, so gentle, so earnest. You feel his voice rumbling through his chest into your back.

He places the hammer in your right hand before he covers your hand with his effectively holding each of your hands like you're a puppet. He positions the nail in the wood once more, bringing your hand and the hammer back. You’re completely boneless, letting yourself melt into his arms.

"So if you hold it-"

Whatever thought Luke had dies at the sound of Joel's rasping voice behind you.

"What're you doin'?"

You and Luke glance over your shoulders to see Joel scowling. He's got a stack of the remaining lumber over his shoulder. Jennifer is beside him, looking between Luke and Joel in confusion, a box of nails in her grip.

Luke still has his arms around yours, guiding you. Both sets of arms are raised midway. It looks like you’re in some strange dance routine involving hammers and nails. Joel drops the lumber to the floor with a thud, his gaze icily on Luke.

"I was just teaching her how to put up the frame," Luke explains with a soft tone. You recognize that he's a gentle man, not one for confrontation. Joel intimidates him; he likely has since he met him. For whatever reason Joel is especially cold to Luke.

"This ain't a teachin' moment," Joel all but growls, his larger frame barreling towards the two of you. "We're here to do a job and get it done fast so we don’t draw attention."

You feel Luke shrinking back, arms lowering, but his frame still rests behind you as if he's worried about leaving you entirely.

"I wanted to learn how to do the repairs," you explain trying to be diplomatic.

"S'not why you were brought," Joel bites back.

He shocks you when he reaches out to take your wrist, tugging you away from Luke. You stagger towards Joel, eyes wide almost barreling into his chest. He holds you tightly, looking down into your face.

"You're here to keep watch while we do this. That’s your job."

His voice is harsh but his eyes are gentle. It's a confusing dichotomy that has you careening from one emotion to the next. You settle on anger when you feel Jennifer and Luke watching you. Your cheeks burn with humiliation at being talked to like this in front of them and you shoot a glare at Joel before you wrench your wrist his grip.

“Let’s break for lunch,” Jennifer suggests, noting the tension.

“Good idea,” Luke says with a smile.

Everyone waits for Joel’s eventual nod before the four of you head downstairs to the log room.

There are thankfully enough chairs because you can’t imagine the awkwardness of standing around eating after everything that happened. Right now you want to sink into your chair and disappear for a few hours.

What the fuck is Joel’s problem?

Jennifer thankfully starts chatting to fill the silence and pulls out the meals from her bag. Two sandwiches each, a thermos of coffee and what appears to be fresh brownies along with the usual water and apples.

Joel goes off for a moment, muttering about feeding the horses. The three of you take a seat around the table, focused on the sweet-smelling brownies.

“Those look so good,” Luke says when Jennifer pulls them out. “I love baked goods.”

“You should try her stuff,” Jennifer says motioning to you with a wink. “Everyone in town says how good her baking is.”

You could kiss Jennifer for the way she’s trying to make you look good in front of Luke. You make a mental note to do the same for her and Joel. Jennifer has many good redeeming qualities and Joel just simply doesn’t see them.

“S’not that good,” you say with a shy little giggle as you bite into your sandwich.

“It is so!” Jennifer insists, unwrapping her own.

“Guess I’ll have to see for myself,” Luke says grinning and taking a sip of his coffee. You don’t say anything but you shift slightly when Joel comes to take the empty seat next to you. He reaches across you to grab one of the sandwiches, peeling back the waxy cloth that holds it.

The room goes quiet again, a side effect of Joel-Miller-iti; because whenever he enters a room it goes deadly quiet. You wonder if he was like this before – was he always so gruff? So grumpy? How could Tommy be so opposite to him?

You wish it was Tommy with the rest of you today. Tommy with his easy laugh and warm countenance. You expect the rest of lunch to go in silence when all of a sudden it’s Joel who breaks it.

"You're good at window repair, Jenny. You must’ve done a lot.”

Jennifer flushes prettily and thanks him in a voice that feels a lot more breathy than necessary.

For some reason this innocuous comment from Joel has your fingers curling into the wood table. Your leg starts to twitch as you rock your leg up and down restlessly on the ball of your foot.

You spent weeks trying to earn Joel’s praise as a patrol partner. You were dutiful and listened and tried your best and he gave you nothing back unless his cock was in your mouth. Jennifer has been working for thirty minutes and he gives her his praise so freely?

If he wasn't sitting beside you, you would be fixing him with your most glowering stare. You wish you weren’t so shy, so quiet. You’d give him a piece of your mind next week on patrols if you had the guts.

“I grew up doing repairs on our house with my brothers,” Jennifer answers and you know she’s beside herself with all this attention from Joel. He’s got his eyes fixed on her and his normally scowling face is brighter, his mouth in a polite smile.

“You had good teachers.”

“I taught them, actually,” she smiles brightly.

“Impressive.”

You continue to bop your leg, the feeling distracting you from your frustration. You hasten a glance at Luke who hasn’t so much as glanced up from his lunch since the meal started. He’s shy like you, quiet and introspective especially when Joel is around. You think that’s why you enjoy his company so much. You feel like you want him to feel included.

“You did construction too, right Luke?”

“Yep,” he nods, swallowing before taking one of the brownies and breaking it apart in his hands. “Cabinetry especially.

“Cool,” you offer awkwardly. You wish you knew more about the topic but your interest and acumen in that field is limited. Your knee continues to bop anxiously as you try to think of ways to get the conversation to continue.

“I was just learning flooring and trim carpentry when the outbreak started,” he continues as you nod along as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Oh, wow.”

Jennifer keeps sneaking looks across the table at Joel and if your hunch is correct he’s probably doing the same to her. Despite your previous annoyance with him the thought warms you, that perhaps there is a mutual attraction for your friend and Joel. You wonder if you should warn her about Joel’s temper but decide that Joel may not show that side of himself to her if he can help it.

After what you’ve learned about Joel and Sarah, there is a softness inside you that maybe thinks Jennifer could be good for Joel. You resolve to do whatever you can to make it work for them. Joel isn’t your friend, but Jennifer is. And if she wants Joel you’ll do all you can to make it happen.

You almost yelp when Joel's hand grips your knee, holding your restless leg in place. He leans towards you, voice dropping a register and sliding into a soft rasp.

"Stop shakin' your damn leg. You’re knockin’ over the coffees."

You’re doing no such thing, but part of you thinks he misses ordering you around. He must like the sense of control it gives him. He misses being a big shot and you’re the closest thing he has to a professional underling. All your kind sentiments about him go flying out the window. You were naïve to think there could be a possible friendship there. Hell, not even a friendship – just a respectful mutual tolerance.

You feel an embarrassed flush cross your features, pulling back from Joel’s touch. His fingers slowly unlatch from your knee and his palm lingers a moment before being removed entirely.

“You do a lot of repairs before all this?” Jennifer asks Joel. You surprise yourself by listening, intrigued for more information on pre-outbreak Joel.

“Yep.”

He takes a long swig of his coffee before wiping at his mouth and speaking before Jennifer has the chance to ask more follow up personal questions.

“Alright, let’s finish it up. I’ll see you two up there.”

He doesn’t spare anyone a glance before he’s on his feet, heading up the stairs. Luke joins him moments later, leaving you and Jennifer sitting across from one another.

When she’s certain the men are upstairs she looks beside herself with delight and leans forward conspiratorially.

“Do you think Joel was flirting?” she whispers, her light eyes dancing. “I mean, Luke is way better at repairs but he didn’t say anything nice to him.”

“Definitely,” you reason, looking thoughtful. “He doesn’t really talk much normally, so I think that’s a good sign.”

“I’m gonna ride back with him,” Jennifer says hiding a giggle behind her hand.

“Go for it,” you say, unable to stop from smiling. You can’t help but enjoy her excitement.

“I wonder what he kisses like,” she muses, her eyes dreamy. You shrug your shoulders and she fixes you with that same sisterly look. “When’s the last time you had a really good make out?”

“Uh…” you trail off, your cheeks heating. “We can talk about it later. He’ll be pissed off if you don’t get up there soon. Don’t wanna blow your chances now.”

Jennifer gives you a grateful squeeze on the shoulder as she passes, calling up to Joel and Luke that she’s just grabbing some extra nails. You don’t hear their reply because you’ve dragged yourself to the window, your eyes scanning.

You hear them nailing upstairs, the muffled sound of their talking. As always you're on the edge, forever on the outside. You chew at the inside of your cheek in irritation, your eyes scanning the outside.

It's not long after that the three come back downstairs dressed for travel. Jennifer is pulling on her gloves and chatting with Luke about the rumors of heavy snow and Joel is carrying his bag with the tools over one shoulder. He fixes you with an expectant stare, brows raised.

"See anythin’?"

"Nope. Would've said something if I did."

Joel stares at you, unblinking and you're confused when you see a small curl of his lip in amusement.

"S'go."

The four of you trudge towards the waiting horses. Chestnut looks excited to see you and you grin as you approach. You press your forehead to his cheek, stroking down his flank as the rest of the group begins to pick a horse.

"I can ride with someone again," Jennifer offers and you watch with a touch of amusement as she subtly steps towards Joel who has just climbed atop Midnight.

"Nah, let's switch it up," Joel says gruffly. "That way s’fair for everyone."

Luke looks your way and you hold in a nervous grin. He’s going to make the same offer to you that he did to Jennifer because he’s a gentleman that way.

The thought has your stomach fluttering excitedly. You think of how your arms will wrap around his middle, how you’ll find an excuse to press your cheek to his shoulder blade. How your thighs will-

"Get on."

Your brows knit together in confusion as you gaze up to your right to see Joel on his horse, holding out a gloved hand in front of your face. His curls fall into his forehead as he tilts towards you, mouth in a firm line.

What the fuck is he doing? Why is he trying to fuck this up for you?

“S’go,” Joel tells you, shaking an impatient outstretched hand from atop of his horse. He looks like he’s irritated out of his mind as you make your decision.

"Oh, uh," you glance at the disappointment in Luke's face before turning back to Joel, trying to hide your irritation.

It makes sense after all; Luke already had to ride with Jennifer. But a part of you had been hoping to spend a bit of time with him on the horse. It's been a long while since a man intrigued you like Luke.

"We don't have all day," Joel snipes at your hesitation. "Let's go."

Jennifer strides forward, taking Chestnut’s bridle from you. You hand it over before looking back up at Joel who waits with one hand on his saddle horn, the other still at your eye level.

You clench your jaw and take his hand, hooking your foot into the footing of Midnight’s saddle and feeling the muscle of Joel’s arm as you grip his bicep and he pulls you astride the horses back behind him.

He shifts, giving you room to slide behind the saddle. You do so, holding in a sigh as you position yourself atop the strong animal. You feel Midnight's ribs under your legs, wider than Chestnut's. He's a pitch black mare with a coat that currently glistens. He's always been a rather imposing horse, hesitant around new people. Riding him is like being in a room alone with Joel – intimidating.

"Hold on," Joel instructs before clicking his tongue, encouraging Midnight to start walking. The horse jerks to a start, causing you to dig your legs into Midnight’s side. You’re lucky the horse doesn’t kick you off for it.

You look over your shoulder to see Jennifer on Chestnut a few paces back. You give her a look that shows how displeased you are to be with Joel, replete with an eye roll. She returns it with a weak smile before her focus is back on the trail. Luke is looking off into the surrounding area, his eyes scanning for threats as he sits straight-backed on Glimmer.

You turn back to face ahead of you, displeased.

At first you barely touch Joel, hands resting on your thighs as the four of you bob along the trail. No one is talking now. The air is filled with an unexpected tension that you can’t for the life of you understand.

Your front is pressed against Joel's back, squeezing gently to make sure you don't slide off. Midnight makes a jostling step off the path before righting himself. It sends you slipping back, your thighs digging into the horse’s side and your hands going to grab Joel lightly by his jacket.

"Unless you wanna fall off I suggest you hold tighter n'that." Joel bites off.

You know he’s correct. Sitting this awkwardly is only a burden on Midnight. Your arms snake around Joel’s waist and hold there below his sternum. His chest is broad, his arms muscled, his thighs strong. Everything about him is masculine and tough. All but the soft look of his dark brown curls threaded with grey which curl under his ears just slightly.

Despite everything you've experienced with Joel, actually physically touching him is surreal. You know the feel of his cock in your palm and on your tongue, the taste of his come. But now you can explore the rest of his body first with your eyes and then your hands.

Up this close to Joel you see the freckles on his golden skin and the way he holds himself stiffly straight in front of you. He’s so broad, his entire disposition that of protector. You can understand why Ellie feels safe with him.

You marvel at the smooth sensation of his jacket under your fingertips, the warmth of his body. This close to Joel you inhale the scent of leather and homemade lavender soap from Hannah's. You could almost laugh that you both use the same scent mostly because Joel Miller smelling like flowers is an amusing thought.

You pass through a different path on your way back as you always do and are irritated with the sight of the overturned trees. The roots are ugly, twisted things that poke out from the light dusting of snow.

“Shit,” Joel mutters to himself.

Midnight rears back sharply and in a panic your arms wrap more tightly around Joel’s waist, suddenly anxious. You're surprised when Joel's left hand goes to cover your grip knotted against his middle, holding you in place.

Joel grunts out a grumbled whoa boy before tugging Midnight’s reigns with his right hand to get him to obey. His hand is big, warming you despite the gloves you both wear.

"Careful," Joel calls over his shoulder to Jennifer and Luke. "Some big roots here."

The two of them call out that they've heard him. You twist to look over your shoulder and watch them navigate Chestnut and Glimmer over the uprooted tree. Luckily it doesn’t take long before the four of you are back on the path heading home with no more obstacles in the foreseeable future.

You glance behind you to see Jennifer looking miserable on Glimmer. She looks so disappointed and you want to slap Joel upside the head for missing how obviously into him she is. You think of earlier, when Joel observed her skills and an idea comes to you.

“Hey Jennifer?”

“Yeah?”

“I really like your jacket,” you fumble for a way to make this sound natural.

Jennifer shoots you a confused look, curious as to where you’re going with this. “Uh, thanks.”

“Did you get it from town?”

“I made it,” she tells you, the silent you already know that, reflected in her gaze.

“Wow, you’re so gifted. You made those amazing curtains in your place too, right?”

“I did.”

“You’re so good at making stuff,” you gush. “Especially clothes. You make men's clothes too, right Jennifer? Like jackets?"

"Uh yeah," she says slowly before her confusion fades, realizing what you're getting at. She smiles cheekily at you. "Yeah, I can make jackets, jeans, t-shirts, all that stuff."

“You’re so talented at it,” you gush. Luke is looking over your way and you feel the need to really drive it home. “I mean, with the holidays coming up I might just want to get a dress from you.”

You have never worn a dress in your life. Not unless your mother forced you into them as a child. But you need to sell this idea that Jennifer is a domestic goddess. You’ll leave out the part about her baking.

“I could make us matching ones,” she says with a wink. You hold in a giggle at the thought.

“I’d like to see that,” Luke offers shyly from behind Jennifer who shoots a delighted look in your direction complete with dramatically mouthed ‘he likes you!’. You flush at the attention, your lips pursing into a pleased grin.

You feel Joel's trunk stiffen in your arms and his hand drops from over yours. He replaces it on the reigns.

"Keep it down," Joel hisses over his shoulder at you and the others. "Unless you were hopin’ to guide Raiders our way?"

The two of them go quiet and you cringe internally. You don't know why but you suppose it's because Joel is your patrol partner. A reflection on you in some ways and he's coming off like a major asshole right now. Your arms loosen around his middle finding that the horse is now on smoother terrain.

You glance over at Jennifer about to give her a sympathetic look but she shoots you an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and mouths the words "still sexy" with a head tilt at Joel. You barely suppress a surprised giggle, irritating Joel further.

"What's so fuckin’ funny?"

"Nothing."

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

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suguruplsr · 7 months

Note

idk if ur requests are open but ok toji x reader based off of this song: I LOVE YOU HOE by Odetari/9lives it just gives me major toji vibes idk how 2 explain it but i heard and just KNEW cuz yk toji a lil toxic BUT ITS OKAYY

toxic toji w/ head cannons!

✰ ✰ ✰ sweet girl. so naive and gullible. he might have to hunt you down once you get too smart.. so just play along.

જ⁀➴ my brain wrote and made this. i love that song!

,, fem!reader , toxic toji , dark content , manipulation (emotionally n’ all of that) , yandere ? , smut , brief angst n fluff , mentions of baby megumi , toji killed someone in front of you , random person hits on reader , other kinda f’ed up stuff idk how to word , not proofread.

toji who nearly got scared for the first time when you said you wanted a break. a break from him. but admittedly, he was more surprised than scared, you were seriously going to leave him? he stopped spending all of his money on betting and started saving just so he could provide more just for you. he even decided on keeping megumi because you liked the baby so much. maybe because his heart also warmed whenever he’d hear you sweetly talking to the babbling thing in the next room, sitting beside his crib and sticking a finger or two between the wooden walls for megumi to grip onto loosely. a sight he enjoys seeing every morning.

now, toji doesn’t consider himself a desperate man, but after finding out that, within your little two week break, you ended up talking to another man. which you weren’t, in that context, the kind guy just wanted your number, to which you quickly declined. and he got a bit.. pushy, too much for toji’s liking. and you appreciate it but maybe not enough? you didn’t immediately cling back to him again, and you only talked to him to see the cute baby that was usually attached to his hip, and to occasionally check up on him.

so can you really blame toji when he decided to remind you that you were the only person who knows of his job? that you were the only person who knew of the blood he spilled, of the capabilities he had that could end your life. not that he ever would. him killing someone in front of you was enough. it was enough to have you back in his house, back by his side, back to him. and to think toji almost thought of taking a step further when you weren’t as shook as he, just about, wishes you were. however, your initial reaction before knowing it was him made his dick twitch, it’s so funny, how you tried to just act more so.. bothered by the blood, and not questioning his excuse of, “right time, wrong place.”

and as an apology, toji makes sure you get fucked thoroughly that night. in his bed. he didn’t mean to paint your front door in blood. poor girl.

“didn’t mean ta make you see such a thing pretty.” toji groans, hands clutching your waist as he guides you down on his cock, watching the way you bit your wet lip in anticipation, nail’s digging into his shoulder as he lets you go and you fall onto his lap with a loud sound of the slap of your flesh meeting, taking in his girth in your pussy with ease. the pain was brief, and you felt so full, legs shaking over his thighs as you try to say something, only able to think about how he stretched you out. why did you ever leave him?

“s’okayyyy, i— fuck. i don’t mind.. just promise to clean it up tomorrow, ngh, please?” you’re so cute, trying to only think of the gruesome view earlier as a normal thing. but toji had seen it, the fear that had flashed through your eyes at first, fear that even stayed with your eyes that lingered on him after realizing who was the reason of the sorcerers death. just thinking about it makes him want to spurt a fat load into your pussy, holding you tightly as he slowly helps you ride his cock. “mmm yea? of course i will, gotta take care my princess right?” and you think he meant that literally, considering he fucked you so good you were hella cock drunk in the morning, getting mad when he tried to leave early. but he had to clean up his mess right? so don’t get too worried. he’s filled with excitement after realizing he’s got you back.

toxic toji! who just needs to go to some extra measures after someone’s shamelessly hitting on you at the store. does the poor guy really not see him behind you, trying, to read the contents of food before picking it out? something he never does. he’s just thinking about the 563 ways he could kill that man, wait! he just thought of another!

so he wraps his larger arm around your waist, giving a small peck on your cheek as he whispers something about “getting home before megumi wakes up” but toji’s staring dead into the guys eyes, maybe he should find out if hes on someone’s hit list. of course he’d gladly kill him without getting paid but if he does get some cash in his pocket, then at least he’d have a reason to not gain your look of disappointment..

toxic toji! who always keeps you stable. he never asked for you stay with him but there’s so many signs of you within his house. from another toothbrush to new fluffy blankets. or the extra cups on counters, or the freshly baked cookies that wait to be eaten by you, him, and little gumi. he buys you new clothes that stay in his closet, which he never minded. it was kinda endearing watching you rearrange his closet after asking, perfectly sectioning each others clothes. he loves walking in and seeing the contrasting colors.

but as adorable as it is, toji doesn’t mind making it a mission to remind you that he’s the one keeping you together whenever you get out of hand too much. the only thing he wouldn’t bring up, is anything relating to trauma you’ve experienced. he’s not that bad of a guy. but whenever you try stepping out the car, angry and upset, he doesn’t hesitate to list out every reason why you should get back in, driving nice and slow beside you. toji starts from the most basic things, “it’s late.” or “a pretty woman like you needs protection.” to “i’m the one driving. get in or else no ones finding ya.” or “y’know gumi’s gonna be sad without his mommy.. don’t want to do that to the kid, right?” because no one has the amount of patience to put up with you like he does. so just ignore the way his lips curl in amusement and how comfortable his hand feels on your thigh when you get back in. good girl.

toxic toji! who swears to himself it’s wrong to use his son as a gateway to your heart but it just makes the process so easy. he even convinces himself that it’s okay, children come first right? and he would hate for his child to lose his mother figure. and toji would hate to lose the woman he loves. so he’s bringing up megumi in everything, slowly changing the conversation to his favor so he can slide in the fact that, “the kid’s sleepin’. just get in bed and we’ll talk in the morning.” and you don’t talk it out, never. it weighs in your heart two hours tops before baby megumi is in your arms and you’re feeding him small little fruits. taking small glances at toji who looks at you two warmly and it makes your heart burn in affection because he’s not usually like this.

with the help of a few friends you talk it out with, and who have suddenly stopped talking to you after a while. sometimes the blaring signs of his actions are just so apparent you try to tell yourself that you’re simply staying for megumi. but you’ve only fallen deeper into toji’s words. he’s the one who’s made you think that way, so even if everything else fails, there’s always megumi. the child you both love. whose sadly a weapon that’s always on toji’s tongue. but even when you think it’s only megumi you’re thinking about, you find yourself reluctantly cutting carrots for toji because even with his job, the fruit looks so fucking uneven when he cuts it. yea, it’s just bothering you is all. just like how he puts the wrong settings for his washer, can he really complain about his sweaters when he didn’t set it to delicate? but you’re just so pissed at his inability to do simple things that you don’t realize how whipped he is. a smile tugging his lips when you gently take the knife out his hands. or force him out of his sweater to put it in your next load of clothes. no, he never did any of that on purpose. he just didn’t have his daily dose of you, to hear in his head how you’d scold him on certain things.

it’s a shame, you don’t realize what you’re getting into the second he’s on his knees with a box open on the palm of his hand. you don’t realize what you’ve done to that man..

487 notes · View notes

rainylana · 1 year

Text

“Yeah.”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: eddie calls reader a b*tch

warnings: language, angst, tears.

a/n: i know these past fics have been short, i’m sorry, but i’m still trying my hand at getting back into this! they’ll get longer, i promise! feedback is appreciate!! :)

Eddie was not in a good mood. You knew this the moment you saw him through the window of his van when he came to pick you up for school. He ranted all morning about how he needed money for new tires, money he didn’t have. Work was cutting him hours and he couldn’t afford it. He was tired of not having money, tired of not getting what he wanted. He was having a damn bad day.

And of course, you listened graciously, but after four hours of watching him sulk in class and be a dick to his friends, it was starting to take it’s toll. He was pouting and you understood why. He came from a poor family and he wouldn’t let you help out financially in anyway whatsoever, no matter how hard you begged. You didn’t want to seem rude and make his bad day seem unappreciated or invalid, but he was treating his friends, and you, poorly to a degree. Not so much you.

Lunch was almost unbearable. Everyone walked on eggshells. Eddie was one of the most dramatic people on the face of the earth and everyone had to suffer for it. Hours past and he’d taken you home from school. Your plan was to go over to his house for a movie night, hoping that a few hours apart would help him settle down and cool off. It done no good. He was absolutely enraged when you got there. The hood of his van was up, smoke flying overhead and his dark curls pulled up away from his face. You didn’t even really know what was wrong with it. It didn’t make sense when he told you. Cars were his detail.

Dinner was no change. You sat and listened to him complain about how none of the guy’s were apparently taking the new campaign seriously. He had a hole in his last pair of good jeans. You felt guilty being annoyed by this, but he hadn’t once asked you how your day was or even kissed you! You were going to loose your mind. Without thinking, you snapped.

“Oh, my god!” You wailed, throwing your silverware down. “Jesus, christ, Eddie, take a breath!”

His eyes were round and wide. “Pardon me?”

You took a breath yourself, forcing yourself to not snap and say something you’d regret. You placed your elbows on the table and rubbed your face. “Baby, I’m sorry you’re having such a bad day, but holy shit you’ve not stopped talking for one second!” You really did have a pounding headache. “You’ve been talking about money all day! Can’t we just have a change of topic, please.”

He looked taken back. Shocked. “Oh, I see. It’s all gotta be bout you, right? Fucking forgive me for having a bad day!” He threw down his fist, clinking the dinnerware together.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Eddie.” You sighed tiredly. “I’m saying that you’ve not acknowledged me at all today. You’ve not kissed me or asked how my day was. I’m sorry you’re stressed out about money, but you’ve been taking it out one everyone, Eddie. You need to calm down.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “Calm down? Well, last time I checked you were living in a grand castle on daddy’s money, right? You have no idea the kind of shit Wayne and I have to got through to make ends meet, y/n.” He stood abruptly and yanked open the fridge for a beer.

“Hey,” You raised your voice. “I’m not trying to belittle you, Eddie. All I’m saying is that you don’t need to take your frustration out on everyone, out on me. I’m sorry I snapped at you, okay-”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” He took a long swig after he threw the tab in the sink. “You’re my girlfriend! You’re supposed to be supportive and shit. Only thing you’re being is a bitch.” He sneered like a snake, pointing at you like you were his worst enemy.

Your face dropped at the curse, and as stupid as it felt, your heart sank. Eddie had never said anything like that to you before. Your face burned red and the room got eerily quiet. You felt your eyes immediately blur with tears of embarrassment and humiliation. You had tried to help him, offer solutions. You tried to lend a hand, offer him money and look for jobs in the newspaper at lunch. He acknowledged none of this.

You bit your lip to keep from crying, a lump building in your throat that made you feel sick. You had your head turned to the wall so he wouldn’t see you, but you couldn’t keep it in. You let out a quiet sob, tears falling down your face as you looked down. Your face was red hot, and you brought up your hand to your chest. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” You cried. “I’ve been t-trying to help, I-” Your voice broke and you couldn’t speak as tears escaped, your face twisting into tears. You sat there and cried for a few minutes before you felt the seat dip next to you.

“Hey,” His voice cooed softly, turning your shoulder to pull you toward him. You allowed him to, and you looked eyes briefly before climbing into his lap, wrapping your legs around his torso, your feet dangling off the bench. Your arms were tight around his neck, your face buried in his shirt where you sniffled. He smelled of cologne and dirt.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, voice low and sad. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He rubbed your back up and down, kissing the side of your head when you let out a whimper.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” You said tearfully, holding him like a teddy bear. “I wish you didn’t have to worry about money.”

You felt him sigh heavily. “It’s okay. I got the most important thing in the world right here with me.” He pulled you away so he could look up at you. His eyes were brown and full, his lips pulled into a frown at your tear stricken face. He took his thumbs and wiped them. “I’m sorry I called you that. You know I didn’t mean it, right? You know I didn’t.”

You nodded slowly, wiping your nose with your hand. “Yeah.” You creaked.

He tapped your chin. “Yeah.” Then your nose and to wipe away another tear. He leaned up to plant a tiny kiss on your lips, then one on the corner of your mouth. You leaned down to kiss back, deepening it with your tongue and a hand locking in his curls. Your noses pressed together like puzzle pieces. Perfectly fit.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb

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freemansgirl · 7 months

Text

video games pt 2

pairing: amber freeman x fem reader

genre: smut

warnings: g!p! amber, amber rubbing on your v, amber wears a ghostface costume as she fucks you, spanking, degradation, she takes a photo while she fucks you

words: 2.2k

part 1 | part 2

you felt your body being pushed towards the comfortable covers of amber’s mattress of her bed in her room. your back was leaning on top of the fabric, sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress due to amber pushing you into her the bed. your pretty, curious eyes looked up into amber’s lustful, hungry dark brown ones, wanting her to take you right then and there.

“been waiting for this moment so bad, babe, you have no idea.” she mentioned, leaning into your face as some of her dark black hair fell onto your forehead, signaling just how close she was to you. there was a look of admiration on her face, giving you a smile when she looked at your face from your body. she found you so beautiful, she considered herself very lucky to have someone like you.

her delicate, pink lips start to land on yours coming in for a passionate, hungry kiss. amber started to deepen the kiss, her hands roaming from your face to the rest of your body to bring you even closer to her than you already are. you could feel yourself moaning into the kiss, aroused by just how good it felt being in amber’s presence. your bottom half of your body started to feel extremely damp down there, internal heat being spread in your body.

when amber’s pale, soft hand started to come near your entrance, your wet folds met with her index finger. her index finger felt so damp with just how wet you are, there was a light-hearted, playful gasp that came out of her mouth. she tried to fight the ability to let out a laugh at how wet you are, it was just too cute. she stiffened back a laugh, holding her hands up to her lips to prevent anything from coming out. “my, oh my, you’re already so wet from me kissing you… gotta say, i’m quite flattered, baby.”

there was some heat that came up to your cheeks, flustered by amber’s words when she pointed out how wet you are. you tried to not feel embarrassed about it because you know how your girlfriend could get you aroused so quickly. you couldn’t really blame yourself because i mean…. it’s amber. she started to rub her thumb above your clit, grazing it in small circles while she kissed down on your neck. each kiss she planted onto your cheek felt heaven, her lips were so soft against your skin and you loved it.

you felt your back arch from how good she was rubbing your sensitive spots, letting out the prettiest little noises for amber. she started to smirk against your neck, letting out some seductive laughs while leaving more semi-sloppy, wet kisses on your neck. “you’re liking that huh, princess?” a teasing tone came from the pale-skinned girl, enjoying that she was the only person that could make you feel this good. you started to nod your head rampantly to her question, showing that you actually did like it.

the more she picked up her pace, the better the rubbing felt against your clit which drew out more moans. “amber, oh my god,

please…” you breathed out, closing your eyes for a second to just enjoy the moment as your mind took you places. you started to rub your hands all over her body, letting her grind against you. as you two enjoyed the moment, it came to an end once amber stopped rubbing her finger against your clit and moved away from the side of your neck. “wh…why’d you stop, ambs?” you whined, feeling yourself the corner of your lips tug downward to form a frown on your face. you couldn’t believe that amber actually stopped because of how good of a job she was actually doing to you.

amber didn’t respond to the question you asked her, she just got off of the bed to go to her closet. you just watched her with a semi-annoyed expression on your face, not sure what suddenly got into your girlfriend. yes, amber can be a tease sometimes when she took notice of your high and would abruptly stop but it could be… frustrating sometimes. you hoped she wasn’t neglecting your needs because why is a closet more important than whats going on in the moment? “well, amber?” you asked her again, impatience in your tone to see why she stopped since she didn’t respond the first time.

when hearing you call for her name, she turned to you to just be met with your upset, impatient face. you looked like a sad, puppy dog that just had its owner abandon it for a day. amber put a heart on her chest and gave you the most apologetic expression ever, her brows furrowing out of guilt. “i’m sorry, my baby.” she murmured, before continuing onto her next sentence, “just thinking about how i wanted to keep my word from earlier.”

with that being said, that’s when she pulled out her ghostface costume from her closet. oh, so that’s the word she meant… you remembered what she said now. she started to put it on her body, impatiently and quickly, at the excitement of bringing her fantasy to life. the idea of getting to fuck you like her favorite character off her favorite game was getting the absolute best of her. “turn your ass facing me.” amber commanded, asserting her dominance toward you as she started to approach you.

you started to immediately follow suit, turning your ass facing her body. there was a gentle thud of each footstep she took towards you, it urged of excitement, the closer she came to you. rough, smooth fingertips had ran small lines over the spine of your body, followed with light kisses right afterwards. your hips were grabbed towards amber, your ass hitting right against abdomen as you gasped lightly.

she started to let out a dry, semi-sinister laugh while looking down at you behind her ghostface mask. the sound turned you around to face her when she laughed, your delicate, apprehensive eyes peering into the mask's black eye sockets. you have no idea what she's doing, but you knew she had something planned. she quickly grabbed you by your head and pushed it into deep of the bed cover. suddenly, you felt a hard, quick jolt to the skin on your ass.

a muffled whimper flew out of your mouth instantly, reacting to the shock. “mm, baby, you make the prettiest, little whimpers for me…. i wonder how many more i could make.” your girlfriend hummed seductively, while bringing another hand onto your ass. as expected, you let out another whimper from her hard slap. the black haired girl began to hover herself above your back, then inched near your face.

“remember when you resisted my urge to let me hop off the game and fuck you?”

you felt yourself immediately get flustered, more than you already were out of embarrassment that… your girlfriend was actually trying to spank you. there was no words nor body movement from you, just silence. pissing off amber was always a mistake, but during sexual intimacy? even worse.

the lack of acknowledgment to her question really got amber annoyed, causing an eye roll to come from her. she took her leather gloved fists to grab a chunk of your hair to lift you up from the sheets.

“answer me, slut.”

you felt yourself hiss from how hard thay she pulled your hair. with that comment being thrown your direction, you immediately responded as fast as you could. “yes, yes, baby i do.” you nodded rapidly to her question, making sure she got your answer. the grip in her her hands on your hair loosened, you could feel your scalp calming down…. or so you thought.

your head was met back into the covers again with the force of amber’s hand pushing you into it. “well, since you made me play by your rules, you’re gonna play by mines. gotta make you remember who’s in charge here.” amber leaned into your ear, her whispers so soft yet so lustful. she caressed your shoulders to your back with her gloves, letting you get comfortable. then, she started back again with the spank… each spank bringing more sting and redness to your bottom. she had to teach you a lesson for teasing her instead of giving her easy access to you.

your eyes were brimming with tears from the pain you received, but nothing came out luckily. if your girlfriend saw this, you’d never hear the end of it. speaking of said woman, she kneaded your ass from the pain, gently messaging it. “good girl, you took all of those spankings so well for me.” she pulled her mask up to land a kiss right on your ass. just when you tried to get off of the bed, you were pinned right back down.

“nu-uh, (your name), i’m not done with you, yet.” she decided, mocking your tone of what you said to her earlier when you rode her. she grabbed you right back in the position you were originally in. your ass being right against her abdomen. the black robe was quickly pulled it up to reveal her hard, long 8 inch cock that’s been ready to enter you. your back was arched perfectly for her, one of the most beautiful sights she has ever seen of you. one of her hands grabbed your waist towards her entrance, the length making you moan loudly.

“you’re so big, baby.” you moaned, feeling it move inside of you then right back out. your words made your lover smirk, feeling extremely egotistical knowing she’s the only one that can draw moans out of you. amber began to pick up her pace, hitting your same spot over and over again as you let out moans. you felt your head start to fall back, along with your eyes rolling back. the pressure was too much but god was it just so damn good.

the way her dick just kept on hitting you made you feel like you were just so close to cumming. you closed your eyes, breath hitching so many times from how close you were to an orgasm. “ba—baby…” you called out for your girlfriend, breath barely a whisper.. hoping she could hear it, “i’m so… fucking clo—“

cut off by the hard thrust, you cursed underneath your breath, muttering a “fuck” because of how hard the thrust was. amber’s hips kept slapping against your ass, dick just kept getting faster and faster. it’s like she didn’t even care to show any mercy, and you know why. she loved seeing you like this.

being on the mattress in her own home on all fours, struggling to breathe and speak just from how passionate and intense the sex is, you were damn near gonna collapse soon at this rate. “amber, baby, please let me cum.” you whined for her, gripping the sheets of the mattress for support. amber took out a knife from underneath her bed, and placed it against your neck.

“don’t cum until i say so, got that?”

“mm…mhmm.” you replied back to her weakly, clearly out of it as you kept getting fucked against the sheets. you made sure to prevent any release from happening at any costs, you don’t wanna deal with any more knifeplay than what’s happening right now. the blade of the knife being pressed against your soft skin drew a little bit of blood, causing you to hiss. you had to bit your lips from the pain you just endured, trying to keep quiet. meanwhile, your girlfriend was not gonna stop until she felt satisfied with your performance in bed.

“i know, baby, i know it stings but you’re doing so wonderful for me. just keep going.” amber praised you, kissing all over your neck to your collarbone. she planted a soft bite to it, letting you know that you clearly belong to her. “what a pretty hickey.” she muttered, admiring what she left on your skin with a small smile. it was one of the best ones she ever gave you, she knew she wanted a picture of it to keep to herself. the pale skinned girl grabbed her phone camera from behind her pockets of the ghostface robe.

she extended the camera to where it’s in front of the two of you. when you saw the camera, you looked up with the most glossy yet lustful eyes ever as you saw the flash go off. “you’re gonna look so beautiful. you always do when you’re talking me.” she softly spoke, tucking her camera back into her pockets. she caressed your hair to have more access to your cheeks, kissing all over you.

getting a picture of you giving her backshots was the highlight of her sex. she wanted this to be the stopping point for the sex. amber soon realized that she had to cum soon, her pale, hard dick pulled from inside of your body. based off of amber’s body language of breathing heavily and shuddering, she had just came… and it was right over your ass too. “cum for me.” amber directed you, taking off any press of her blade against your skin.

you now began to cum all over her sheets too, finally finished with sex as of today. you let out a deep, heavy sigh from the release as your body began to go limp after amber was holding it up for support. “nice job, baby. amazing as always.” she kissed your forehead, and brought you closer to her embrace and held you tightly. you softly thanked her under your breath, clinging onto her arms as you laid beside her…. enjoying her company.

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x reader smut #scream x reader #scream x you #scream 5

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projectionistwrites · 1 year

Text

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 2

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Marc Spector x afab!psychologist!reader (11.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, bondage, intense edging, reader is very mean, facesitting/riding, 69ing, praise kink, dirty talk, use of the stoplight system) NOTES: time for everyone’s favorite babygirl. again, i really hope i did marc’s character justice. also, you can’t tell me marc wouldn’t look so pretty crying for you. i kinda went feral on this one. <3 DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

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CASE STUDY: MARC SPECTOR

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Host / Apparently Normal Part

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Fearful

CHARACTERISTICS: cocksure, standoffish, pensive, calculating; resilient to a fault; views himself as irredeemable in the face of his past, unworthy of forgiveness or compassion; must be in control of every situation in order to feel secure.

SPLIT FROM HOST: N/A

TRAUMA RESPONSE: tendency to run when facing emotionally distressing situations

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: dominant, assertive, deliberate, practiced, indulgent; derives majority of satisfaction from his ability to draw pleasure from his partner; cognitive blockages that are reminiscent of self-sabotage (undeserving of release or pleasure).

“You’re early, Doc.”

Marc teased—he was leaning against the doorframe with a smug smirk on his face, successfully blocking your entrance into his flat. You felt your face heat up beneath his devious gaze.

“I know.”

Your words were softer than you’d intended them to be, more hesitant—Marc’s eyes narrowed at your wavery response.

He wordlessly stepped to the side, allowing you to finally slip past him and into the threshold of the apartment. You paused in the entrance as the door clicked shut behind Marc. He narrowly avoided colliding into your form as he turned, his arms jutting out to brace himself against you to prevent either of you from stumbling. His hands gripped your biceps, his chest pressed against your back. Your body tensed under his touch, and he let out a low chuckle, slipping past you and further into the space.

“Jesus, you’re touchy today. Everything okay?”

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied you. The movement was so easy, so casual and relaxed, as if this was just like any other time you’d hung out at his place—as if you weren’t there just to get into his pants. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you glanced down at your worn sneakers. It felt...different, this time. With Steven, you knew there would be a learning curve for both of you. You knew that, to some extent, you would be the one calling the shots, making Steven feel safe and comfortable. But now...you were intimidated. And ashamed to admit it.

You must’ve been quiet a beat too long, because the next second, Marc was in front of you, standing toe-to-toe. When you didn’t meet his eyes, his left hand came to nudge your chin upward, forcing your gaze upon him. You gulped, but his dark eyes were softened with concern.

“Hey. You gotta talk to me, Y/N. What’s on your mind?”

You blew out a breath.

“No, it’s nothing, I’m just—”

“—nervous?”

Marc finished for you, and you squeezed your eyes shut in an effort to prevent yourself from seeing the satisfied look on his perfect face.

“Yes, Marc, laugh it up. I’m nervous.”

“Hey, I didn’t even—”

“Yeah, but you were gonna.”

You snapped with a glare, but you felt guilt punch through your gut when a look of hurt crested Marc's features. You sighed.

“Shit, Marc, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“I am, too, you know.”

You blinked once, then twice.

“You’re...what?”

He rolled his eyes, huffing out a bitter, humorless laugh, as if he thought you were toying with him. When he saw the genuine confusion on your face, he threw his head back with a groan.

“You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed, but when you finally realized what he meant, you felt a small smile creep onto your face.

“Wait—you’re nervous?”

Marc shrugged sheepishly, and you could see a bit of color rise to his cheeks—was he blushing?

“You’re telling me—Marc Spector is nervous?”

“Yeah, and who’s laughing it up, now?”

He quirked a brow, giving you an accusatory look, and you giggled at him, the tension melting away from your body easily.

“I’m not laughing at you, Marc, I’m just—why would you be nervous? Especially around me?”

He shook his head at you incredulously, taking a few steps closer. You felt your back press up against the door behind you, successfully trapping you in Marc's vicinity.

“S’that so hard to believe? A pretty girl like you, coming over to study how I am in bed—even if it’s just for science?”

Marc wiggled his brows theatrically, and you laughed again, shaking your head. Still, there was blood pumping loud in your ears as he spoke, and you could feel electricity crackle in the air between you, charged with energy.

“Yeah, for science. But—you have pretty girls over all the time to see how you are in bed.”

“Yeah, but s’never been you, has it?”

The words were barely audible, muttered lowly beneath his breath, but you felt your jaw slacken at his quiet confession. Your eyes flitted up to his, and there was that cheeky, self-satisfied grin on his face again—fuck, he was too handsome, you just wanted to—

“Can I just fuckin’ kiss you, already?”

He was close, now, his warm exhales mingling with your own. His brown eyes glittered onyx as he drank you in, lips parted just slightly, the tip of his nose barely brushing your own. You felt faint, the proximity dizzying as temptation sank its teeth into your flesh. With the faintest nod of your head, Marc took the plunge.

You’d never had a kiss quite like this one before. Of course, Steven’s was great, but it was exactly what you’d expected—a desperate clash of teeth and tongue, the two of you battling your insecurities to fall into a steady rhythm. But this—this was fucking special. Marc’s hand slipped behind your head to thread through your hair, his other arm looping around your waist to pull you flush against him. You were frankly surprised at the tenderness with which his lips found yours, starting with a barely-there brush of his mouth. It was sweet, and raw, intimate, and you felt his lashes flutter against your cheek when he pulled away too soon.

You were breathless, your face following his as he drew back, desperate to maintain the contact. He chuckled at this, but remained close, eyes finding yours again.

“Still nervous?”

He asked, his voice low and gravelly. His eyes seemed darker as he smirked down at you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Your eyes flitted down to his mouth, your breath catching in your lungs at the sight. Something resembling a squeak involuntarily escaped your throat.

“Marc. Please.”

You whined, big doe-eyes glimmering, and Marc scrunched his face up as though he was in pain, eyes squeezed shut tight as he groaned. He rested his forehead against yours.

“Shit. You really gonna make it that easy for me, baby?”

He practically hissed, and a breathy laugh blew past your lips. Marc captured your mouth with his again, harder this time, the hand that was in your hair reached up to brace himself against the door above your head, successfully caging you in. You hummed against him as his tongue passed through the seam of your lips, sinking into you further. Your desperate hands reached up and clawed at his chest, gripping the navy blue fabric of his cotton t-shirt in your fingers as you held him close. He pressed himself into you, and you could feel the hardness of his bulge flush against your lower abdomen. A moan escaped you at the feeling of his arousal, your body instinctually thrusting into his hold. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

“Yeah? You feel what you do to me, huh, baby?”

He teased against your lips, and you tossed your head back, thudding against the door behind you. You looked down your nose at him, through your lashes, panting slightly, your hands still twisted in the material of his shirt.

“Fuck, Marc, want you so bad, just—”

Your words died on your breath when his arms abruptly slid beneath your butt and hoisted you upwards, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck. One of his large hands stayed firmly squeezing the flesh of your ass, the other roamed the length of your back as he pressed his lips against yours again, turning to walk you further into the apartment.

“Jesus, this is gonna be fun.”

He mumbled at your eagerness and responsiveness, your hands threading through his brown curls as he brought you towards the bed, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You gasped when he threw you back onto the mattress abruptly, your body bouncing once at the contact, causing you to giggle. But then Marc was stalking over your body, hovering above your body with a predatory look in his eyes. He licked his lips as you blinked up at him.

“Gonna take my time with you, pretty girl. Gonna absolutely ruin you.”

You impatiently pulled his face back to yours, and he didn’t resist, kissing you back with equal fervor and desire as your own, but the moment you lifted your hips to seek friction from his body, he pulled away, tutting at you condescendingly.

“Ah, ah, ah. Relax, baby. Don’t torture yourself.”

He smirked, fingers dancing across the skin of your stomach beneath the hem of your shirt. You reacted immediately, lifting your arms above your head to allow him to pull it from your body.

“Look at you—so obedient.”

His patronizing tone normally would’ve pissed you off, but there was something about the look in Marc's eyes—completely enraptured with you, ready to give you the world—that made you want to do whatever he said. He reached behind your body to undo your bra, fingers nimbly unhooking the clasps as he yanked it off of you, his face immediately sinking into your cleavage. He groaned, lips frantically attaching themselves to the flesh between your breasts, wandering across the expanse of the newly-exposed skin and wherever they could reach.

“Oh, baby. Got such pretty tits.”

He growled, teeth playfully sinking into the skin at the top of your right breast, earning a yelp from your mouth as he quickly soothed the sting with a swipe of his tongue, smirking up at you. The heat of his mouth was enough to briefly distract you from his wandering hands, but then he was yanking your pants down your legs in one fell swoop, leaving you bare save for the plain pink cotton panties you’d worn today—they weren’t particularly sexy, as you had been trying to prevent your apparel from serving as a confounding variable, but Marc still looked like he wanted to devour you.

His rough hands ran up the plush skin of your thighs, over your hips before squeezing at your tits, making your back arch up and off the bed. A dark chuckle sounded from above you.

“So eager.”

He hummed, pressing a kiss to your mouth, and you felt his hands travel down your body again, teasingly fondling at the waistband of your underwear as you sighed. You let your own hands travel beneath his shirt, running your hands along the warmth of his toned abdomen, coaxing him out of the material. You were happily surprised when he honored your silent request, allowing you to pull the shirt over his head and toss it to the side. His expression flickered for a moment as you admired him, his eyes briefly shining with a certain warmth that you couldn’t decipher. He pressed his lips to yours, a soft, sweet kiss, but when he pulled away, the wicked gleam in his eye had returned.

“Gonna make you feel good, baby. You want me to touch you?”

Your nod was frantic, your head pressed back into the pillows as you forced your body to stay still beneath him, even as you desperately wanted to rut up against his jean-clad thighs.

“Yeah, you do, huh? Bein’ such a good girl for me, baby—you gonna keep behavin’ yourself? Gonna let me take care a’ you?”

You whined, desperation starting to pulse through your limbs, making you want to squirm.

“Yes, Marc, yes, just—please—”

He shushed you, his lips pressing hotly beneath your jaw before continuing down the column of your neck, down your sternum, across your breasts, and finally stopping above your navel. He hummed into your skin, the vibrations causing a chill to pass over your spine, goosebumps rising in their wake. He lifted his hands to spread your legs further apart, granting him the space to lay between them so he was face-to-face with your clothed core.

“Fuck, baby—soakin’ for me already.”

You could feel his hot breath against the cool, damp material of your panties, and you jolted when his fingers lightly pressed against the wet spot, the pads of his digits just barely swiping over your folds. Your toes curled and legs tensed, trying hard to withstand Marc's slow, relentless teasing. He seemed to be enjoying it, a dark chuckle escaping his mouth at your reaction.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

He requested lowly, hands pressed against your inner thighs to hold them apart in front of him. You tried to make your voice steady.

“Marc, please, just—”

His fingers harshly curled into the flesh of your thighs, creating divots in the soft skin as you flinched. He gave you a warning glare.

“You never struck me as the bratty type. C’mon, baby—tell me what you want.”

“You, Marc, fuck—want you so bad. Always wanted you.”

You flinched at your own confession, but Marc responded with a throaty growl.

“Oh, yeah? Thought this was just for research, hm?”

You felt his nose brush against the crotch of your panties, and you whimpered, your hips lifting of their own accord. Marc’s hands gripped your waist tightly and slammed your ass back into the mattress, pressing you down firmly.

“That’s enough.”

He warned, suddenly strict, and you swallowed, trying hard to resist the urge to sink your hands in his hair and force him towards where you needed him most.

“Fuckin’ greedy little thing. I’ll give you whatever you want, pretty girl—just wanna hear you say it.”

You bit your lip defiantly, feigning confusion at his request, and he growled again, teeth sinking into the flesh of your hip right above the waistband of your panties. You jumped at the sensation, letting out a sharp cry, and you felt the vibration of his chuckle through your skin.

“Go on, Y/N. Tell me the truth. Tell me how bad you want me.”

Your resolve shattered.

“Want you so bad, Marc. Wanted you since the day I met you. Wanted you to bend me over the desk in my office, wanted—wanted to get on my knees for you right there on the bus. Got off to the thought of you fucking me so many times, Marc, shit, please, would you just—”

He practically ripped the panties from your body as his mouth finally surged forward to steal a taste of your sopping cunt. You yelped in surprise when his tongue swiped through your folds, and Marc wasted no time in sinking two fingers into your throbbing entrance, already beginning a relentless pace within you.

“Oooh, FUCK, Marc—”

You exclaimed, hips thrusting upward at the sudden stimulation, and Marc’s strong arm reached up to press down on your stomach, forcing your movements to halt.

“Sit fuckin’ still—want you to cum all over my fingers, baby.”

He muttered against your clit, lips wrapping around the bud to suck harshly. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching already, the pleasure mounting and mounting with each sudden thrust of Marc’s thick fingers, each move deliberate and practiced. You were mewling beneath him, back arched harshly as he continued his pace, dark eyes watching as your face contorted into a look of pleasure.

“That’s it, baby, can feel you squeezin’ my fingers, fuck—you gonna cum for me?”

Your climax peaked easily and you let out a long sigh as you let the waves of pleasure overcome your senses, only acutely aware of Marc’s gentle praises being muttered against your throbbing cunt as your became pliant beneath him.

Your muscles began to loosen after your sudden and intense orgasm, but the sensation didn’t last for long—Marc wasn't stopping. His tongue had replaced his fingers, thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, his nose nudging at your clit in a move he must’ve learned from Steven, the cheeky bastard...

“Fuck, Marc, shit, I can’t—”

You couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, but he held you down securely, not allowing you to pull away from the intense stimulation he was still offering.

“Color.”

The sound was muffled, mixed in with the sinful slurping noises he was making, and your cloudy mind took a few moments to process his request, but as his fingers pressed harder into the divot of your hipbone, you threw your head back to respond. Stoplight.

“Green, Marc, but—God, fuck, s’too much, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will.”

Your eyes met his from his position buried in your mound, and the sight of his hungry eyes and the tone of his demand were enough to send you rapidly toppling over the edge yet again. The high-pitched wail that you let out was shameful, but Marc didn’t pause, watching you closely as you came apart on his tongue yet again.

As you came back down to Earth, he finally offered you a moment of reprieve, coming up for air to press a bruising kiss to your lips. The tangy taste of your arousal on his lips made your face flush hot.

“Taste so sweet for me, baby. Gonna give me another?"

You hummed, mind still foggy with bliss, but then his fingers were ghosting over your swollen clit, swiping carefully in circular motions on your tender flesh. Your head lifted to press into his shoulder, and he chuckled wickedly, increasing his pressure as you writhed beneath him.

“That’s it, baby, doin’ so well.”

He praised, hot lips pressed to your ear, and you could feel heat pool in your lower belly, red and hot and seething. Your lip was pulled between your teeth, hard enough that you could taste the metallic tinge of blood on your tongue as Marc sped up his pace. Your fingers wrapped around his arm, trying to pull him away, but his muscles flexed beneath your hold, and the overstimulation quickly made way for yet another stuttering orgasm, your cunt clenching around nothing as your teeth sank into the flesh of Marc’s shoulder, body twitching uncontrollably. You heard him hiss from the bite to his skin, but it quickly evolved into a groan as he turned his head to the side, littering your jaw with open-mouthed kisses as sweat dappled your face.

“There we go. Good girl, baby. Good girl.”

He cooed, finally pulling his hand away from your core. He lifted his slick-coated fingers and pressed them to your lips, and you absent-mindedly obeyed, sucking his digits into your mouth and lapping up the residual arousal from his knuckles. He hummed in approval, your face utterly fucked-out and eyes hazy. He pressed a soft kiss to your nose before sitting upright above you, his hands making quick work of his belt buckle as he pushed his jeans and boxers down simultaneously.

“Think you’re ready for my cock, pretty girl?”

Your legs were still quaking with aftershocks, your thighs sticky with wetness from your prior orgasms and Marc’s saliva. Still, even with exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs, the sight of Marc’s cock standing at full height, ruddy and weeping, was enough to inspire a nod of your head.

“Want you—fuck, Marc, want you inside me, please.”

“Sound so pretty when you beg for me, baby.”

Marc crept forward on his knees, stroking his cock with practiced precision as he slid between your split legs. You felt the head of his member slide experimentally through your folds, nudging at your clit. You bristled, the heat of his hardened length jostling your shot nerves. You nearly cried at the contact, hips pressing into the mattress and away from the pressure, but then the tip notched at your entrance and you wanted nothing more for him to sink into you. Before he pressed further, though, he slipped fingers beneath your chin, turning your head to look at him. Your lip was quivering with want.

“Color?”

He rumbled, brown eyes gentle, and your ass lifted upwards, trying to force his cock further into your awaiting channel, but Marc pulled away completely, drawing a long whine of protest from your chest.

“Easy, baby. Say the word, and I’ll fuck you just how you want. But I need to hear it.”

You swallowed, fingers sinking into his curls, and your voice was hoarse when you spoke.

“Green, Marc. Fuck me, please.”

Your swollen folds made way for his thick length as it sank into you quickly, bottoming out in one swift thrust as Marc groaned throatily.

“Oh, fuck.”

He growled, eyes squeezed shut tight at the sensation of your tight walls fluttering around him. His balls pressed firmly up against your ass, and Marc reached down to grip one of your ankles, hoisting your leg high above your head so the front of your thigh was to your chest. He offered a slow roll of his hips, his cock nestling tightly into you as he snapped them forward.

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby—so fuckin’ tight.”

His pace started to build, and soon he reached for your other leg to hold it above your head, effectively folding you in half. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper within you, the head of his cock prodding at something devastating. You were moaning shamelessly, now, incapable of forming coherent words at this point as Marc continued to pound into you, his teeth bared as his hips pistonned forward.

“Always wanted to fuck you like this, baby. Knew you’d make the prettiest noises for me, knew you’d let me do whatever I wanted to you. You gonna gimme another one, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?”

A sob ripped through you at his words, your hips thrusting upwards to meet his strokes. He had one hand wrapped around each ankle, braced over your head as he railed you into the mattress, the bedframe creaking under the strain. You felt your stomach coiling yet again, but your body was resisting, so overstrung and sensitive that your muscles felt like they were on fire. Still, Marc’s pace was relentless, and you couldn’t stave off the overwhelming need for release as you started to fall apart.

The groan that Marc offered was animalistic as your pussy clenched down on him, hard, throbbing rhythmically as you surrendered yourself to the onslaught of shockwaves that pulsed through your core. You felt faint, weightless, the crux of heat in your center exploding.

“Oh, fuck me, baby, oh my God, did you just—”

His words dissolved into a growl as he pounded into you harder, and it was only as you slowly regained your bearings that you could feel the slickness coating your thighs and Marc’s abdomen—you’d squirted all over his cock.

“Jesus, not gonna last much longer, baby, so fuckin’ good.”

His head was bowed, curls falling into his eyes as he rammed into you, balls slapping against your asscheeks with each thrust. Punched-out moans passed through your lips surreptitiously as you tried to maintain your focus, although your consciousness was slipping away.

Marc’s left hand released your leg and you felt his fingers swirl over your clit again.

“Gonna cum for you, baby, but you gotta gimme one more, first.”

You sobbed, body lurching off the bed as if you were possessed, your knee curling over his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, Marc, I can’t, s’too much, please, just want you to—”

“Not gonna cum until you do.”

He spoke through gritted teeth, a hardened determination glinting within his crazed eyes. You drank him in—sweat dripping from his curls, nostrils flared, lips pulled up in a snarl, veins in his neck straining beneath the skin with his effort. His pace abruptly switched, his rapid thrusting replaced with a few slow, deep, and fucking bone-rattling plunges within you, the sound of his skin roughly slapping yours filling your ears. The change in tempo was too much, you were spiraling, and with a guttural cry of his name, you felt a blissful numbness erupt from within. Marc threw his head back as you clenched around him once more.

“Oh, fuck, baby, yes, yes, so fuckin’ good, God—”

You watched through half-lidded eyes as he pulled out of you hurriedly, hand reaching down to jerk his cock rapidly as he finally allowed himself to reach his release.

“Fuck, gonna cum all over you, baby, yeah, you ready? You want my cum?”

You nodded, whining greedily, your legs settling down on either side of him as you raised your hips towards him so you could feel his knuckles brush over your pubic bone with each rapid stroke of his cock. The desperation in your eyes is what hurled him over the edge.

“Fuckin’ take it, baby, I’m cummin’ for you, oh, fuck—”

His spend spilled all across your mound, spraying upwards over your stomach and some droplets even landing themselves atop your tits as he continued to jack himself off above you, deep grunts passing through his parted lips with each spurt of cum that he coaxed out. He was panting heavily, watching his white seed ooze across your skin and down his knuckles as he finally slowed the pace of his hand, squeezing one final drop of pearly liquid from the tip as he groaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours to catch his breath. You hummed, unable to open your tired eyes, but the intimacy of the action was welcomed as his lips just barely brushed over your own, a silent ‘thank you’ in the aftermath of an intense moment of passion.

You didn’t think it was possible to feel simultaneously weightless but so heavy at the same time, your limbs sinking into the damp sheets beneath you as you attempted to catch your breath. Marc nestled his face into the crook of your neck—an action vaguely reminiscent of Steven’s habit of nuzzling into you—and you felt him take a slow, deep inhale against your clammy skin, his warm breath fanning out along your collarbone.

You tried to stay awake when you felt his body peel itself from atop yours, but he returned moments later with a cool damp cloth to wipe away the evidence of both of your orgasms. You whined when the cold came in contact with the swollen, sensitive folds of your cunt before he moved up to wipe away his own release—Marc easily shushed you, pressing soft kisses against the skin after he wiped each spot clean. When he was finished, he haphazardly tossed the towel aside, crawling up towards you yet again.

Marc liked to be smothered. If you could take any one thing away from this moment, that’s what you saw—he laid down beside you, flat on his back, before rolling you over on top of him, your face pressed up against his pecs as your body settled between his legs. You hummed at the new position, his arms curling protectively around you, fingers of his right hand playing with your knotted hair. Your ear was pressed up against his chest and you listened to the steady rhythmic thumping of his heart, and you easily could’ve fallen asleep in an instant. Still, you wanted to enjoy the tenderness of the moment for a bit longer.

“You okay?”

Marc finally asked, and the vibrations from his throat reverberated down through his ribcage for you to feel. You breathed in long and deep, the feeling of his soft, warm skin comforting and familiar.

“’M great.”

You whispered, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. There was a small adoring smile on his abused lips, his brown eyes sweeping over your face in a way that only Marc could do—calculating, observant, as if he was looking straight through you. Sometimes, his unusual skill for reading people made you uneasy, but now, you felt completely relaxed beneath his scrutinizing gaze. It would be hard not to, when his eyes glowed as if you’d hung the stars in the sky just for him.

“…was that okay?”

Marc rephrased, and it was only then that you caught on to the insecurity he so desperately tried to mask. The crease between his brows betrayed him, making his concern for you evident. You smiled up at him reassuringly.

“Marc, it was great. You were great. You are great.”

Maybe it was the post-orgasmic bliss that had you feeling sappy, the endorphins boosting you higher into your serenity. The look on Marc’s face was heart-wrenching—the gratitude that shone in his beaming smile, the glow of his face as it lit up with pride, the—dare I say—love, in his eyes, as he gazed upon you.

A comfortable silence settled between you, and the hand that was resting against your back reached down to pull the duvet up and over the both of you, cocooning you in its warmth. You let yourself settle further into Marc’s welcoming embrace, eyes fluttering shut as you let your exhaustion take you. You quickly spoke before you found yourself dozing off.

“So…what’s your typical post-sex ritual look like after this, hm?”

You questioned, lifting your chin slightly to see his face. His eyes blinked open to look at you, and he frowned, pursing his lips.

“Believe it or not…with most of my, uh, hookups, I—uh, I have the tendency to leave in the middle of the night so I’m not there when the girl wakes up—gotta leave ’em wanting more, y’know?”

You laughed breathily at that, but hoped to hide how crestfallen his admission made you feel.

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll try to sneak out after you fall asleep—”

His arms tightened their grip around you, and there was a sort of pleading look in his big brown eyes as he shook his head.

“No, you don’t have to do that, really, I just thought you should—”

“It’s really okay, Marc, I don’t mind.”

You assured with a shy smile, but he shook his head more firmly this time.

“No. You aren’t just a hookup, and you aren’t just some girl.”

Your lips parted in a silent gasp, eyes searching within his to try to gauge his thoughts. He seemed genuine, insistent. Your heart practically melted in your chest.

“But, I don’t—”

“Please, just stay?”

He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question, and certainly hadn’t meant to plead—this was more vulnerability than he’d ever displayed to you before, something you’d ached to see for as long as you’d known him. For him to open up to you, to trust you, to finally let you in.

You mustered up whatever strength you had left to lift yourself up and press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. You gazed up at him through tired eyes, face aglow from his apparent affections.

You didn’t give him a verbal response—you didn’t need to. Instead, you settled back in against him, curling your head into his shoulder, pressing your face against the warm skin at the side of his neck. Sleep came easy for both of you—Marc felt lighter having finally let his impermeable facade yield to you, even if just for a second.

Tomorrow, you intended to convince him to drop his guard completely.

POINTS OF CONTENTION: - relinquishing control - embracing uncertainty - asking for help

TREATMENT: - practice submission - express vulnerability - communicate needs

You briefly got déjà vu when Marc opened the door to his apartment for you, a familiar cheeky smirk adorning his handsome features. This time, however, your expression matched his own as you stood on your tiptoes to plant a peck on his lips, pushing past him and into the flat as if you owned the place. He was startled at your forwardness, and he would be lying if he said your surge of confidence didn’t make him slightly uneasy—what had gotten into you?

“Back for more?”

He managed to quip, quirking a brow at you as he shut the door behind him. You approached Gus’ fish tank and tapped the glass a few times to get his attention, leaning over to watch him swim around aimlessly for a few seconds—it gave Marc a perfect view of your ass through your yoga pants as you bent down, and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared unabashedly.

“I can see your reflection in the glass, you asshole.”

You jabbed, a teasing smile lighting up your face as you met his gaze in the mirrored tank, but he didn’t stop his shameless ogling—instead, he watched you with darkened eyes, a wicked grin on his lips.

“At least I don’t have to hide the fact that I stare at your ass every time I see you, anymore.”

Your brows lifted at his confession, and you carefully straightened up, turning to face him at an agonizingly slow pace. Your hands found your hips as you studied him with an amused expression. You stood across from him in challenge.

“So you admit that you’ve checked me out? Even before this little experiment?”

Marc fought hard to keep the smirk off of his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, sizing you up carefully to gauge your seriousness. You were clearly teasing him, but he offered a subject change nonetheless in an effort to avoid the fact that he just admitted he’d been eye-fucking you since the day you’d met.

Instead, his eyes flickered down to the small black paper bag that you had set by your feet, his brow raising in question.

“I see you brought props with you, this time?”

He closed the gap between you with two large strides, bending down to snatch the shopping bag from your feet before you could protest. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he peered inside, but his eyes widened when he realized what you’d brought.

“Jesus, Y/N. You dirty, dirty girl.”

His fingers reached in to pull out a pair of black silky restraints—it didn’t go unnoticed by Marc that the receipt was in the bag and the fabric still had a tag fastened to it. You must’ve bought them just for this occasion.

The expression on his face was practically carnal as he smirked at you, but something about the look in your eyes made him hesitate. You looked up at him shyly, reaching forward to thumb at the fabric before settling your hand into his open palm atop the silk.

“They’re not for me.”

Four words, and Marc was stunned into silence. His face fell, eyes wide as they studied you, expression bemused and slightly fearful. You swore you could actually see his face drain of color.

“We don’t have to, Marc, I promise—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just spring this on you out of the blue, I’m sure it’s not something you’d normally—well, I mean, not that I know what you’re into and everything, but I just thought it might be—”

“Slow down, baby, it’s okay. I just—took me by surprise, s’all. Wasn’t—wasn’t expecting it.”

You looked up at him thoughtfully, now hyperaware of the trepidation in his features. He avoided your eyes.

“Come on.”

You grabbed his wrist softly and guided him over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and gesturing him to follow suit. He sat down beside you and carefully turned to lay out the two black restraints on the mattress behind him. Then, he turned back to you, eyes gentle. You reached over to pull his hands into your lap.

“Marc.”

You started softly, and his eyes flitted to you nervously, an uneasy lopsided smile on his face.

“Listen to me. We really, really don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable. I know it’s—it requires a lot of trust, and—well, I don’t know.”

You fell silent, unsure of what to say or how to proceed. Marc was giving you that familiar calculating stare, taking you in and analyzing every breath you took. You grew impatient with his lack of response.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?”

There was an apprehensive edge to your tone, your eyes round and full of worry, afraid to offend him or make him uncomfortable. You could see the gears turning in his head as he pondered.

“And this... of anything in the world you could possibly want to do with me, to me... this is the one thing you’d choose?”

You carefully nodded your head, squeezing his hands in your own.

“I think—I think this could be good for you. If—if you’re up for it, of course. No pressure.”

He hummed at your reply, before he turned to you with a small smile.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

You blinked once, then twice, surprised at his easy response.

“Wha—really? Are you sure?”

“I trust you.”

Maybe those words were just that—words. But you couldn’t help feel your eyes grow glassy as the gravity of his admission weighed on you, your heart soaring in your chest as you smiled widely at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. The glow radiating from your face made Marc’s shoulders roll back with pride—he would do anything just to see you smile at him like that.

Apparently, that really did mean anything.

You leaned over and kissed him deeply, hand sliding to cup his face as he pulled you against him, sliding you atop his lap easily as he sucked at your bottom lip.

You settled down onto his thighs, your core easing over his hardening bulge as you pressed your front into him, your pebbling nipples brushing against his chest as you kissed him feverishly. His hands held a bruising grip on your hips as you grinded against him, feeling his hold tighten with every brush of your clothed core over his growing erection.

He hummed when you pushed on his shoulders, coaxing him to lay back against the mattress as you pulled his shirt over his head easily. You guided him towards the headboard as you continued to kiss him, settling him carefully onto the pillows in the center of the bed. You drew your head back quickly, your breath catching in your throat as you drank him in—his dark umber curls a stark contrast to the white downy pillows beneath his head, his brown eyes darkening as he watched you with half-lidded eyes, spit-soaked lips parted. You’d never seen a prettier sight—and you knew how to make it even more enticing.

Your fingers traced up his chest and danced across his shoulders. You kissed him to distract from you sneaky movements as you reached behind yourself to retrieve the pair of restraints that had been discarded earlier. You let your nails skate across his nipples, causing him to hiss, before you gently pried his hands off of your hips. You grabbed each wrist carefully, intently watching his reaction as you guided them over the top of his head and towards the headboard.

You grinded down against his cock once more in an effort to relax his body—he groaned quietly, and you reached for one of the restraints, pulling his left arm straight out to the side and carefully winding the fabric around the bedpost before reaching to fasten it around his wrist. You watched his jaw ripple as you carefully looped the silk over his skin, tightening it just slightly to prevent his hand from slipping out. You tugged at the fabric lightly, testing its resistance, before you leaned back down to peck his lips.

“That okay?”

You asked carefully, nose brushing against his, and he squeezed his eyes shut, tugging against the binding before offering you a soft nod. You smiled at him graciously before repeating the action on his right arm, successfully rendering him incapacitated beneath you, his arms spread wide on either side of his body. You allowed yourself to draw back once more, the sight of him splayed out atop the mattress, completely at your mercy, caused a wave of arousal to rush straight between your legs. He must’ve felt the clenching of your thighs from where they caged his hips in, because he let out a breathy laugh.

“You like this, don’t you?”

His voice was low and hoarse, and you kissed him again, nodding against his lips.

“Yeah, Marc, I do. So pretty for me.”

You felt the warm huff of air that he let out at your praise, and you knew he secretly loved your verbal affirmations, even if he’d never admit it to you. You offered him one last kiss before slowly dragging your face back—his head followed your backwards movement, chasing the feel of your mouth against his, but he jostled at the feeling of his movement being restricted. His eyes opened suddenly at the sensation, as if he was surprised to find the restraints actually lived up to their name. You couldn’t help the tiny grin on your lips as he accustomed himself to his limited range of movement—you could feel the tightness in his muscles, his biceps flexing and tensing as he mindlessly fought to gain control back.

“Easy—you’re okay, I’m right here.”

You soothed, running your hands up his torso as his abdominal muscles contracted beneath your fingers. There was sweat beading at his hairline, his jaw grinding rhythmically as he finally opened his eyes to look up at you, forcing himself to inhale a steady breath in an effort to calm himself down. Your fingers rubbed at the tension in his shoulders and you felt him soften under your touch, becoming pliant beneath you as he allowed himself to settle back into the mattress, finally coming to terms with his current situation. You rewarded him with a kiss, leaning yourself forward so your front was pressed to his.

“Before we start, I need you to promise me something.”

His eyes followed you when you sat back upright, and he nodded for you to continue. You breathed.

“Marc. You have to swear to me that you will use the safe word if you need to.”

He rolled his eyes in response, but you squeezed your thighs together in response, putting an uncomfortable pressure against his hips. He glared at you, but you gave him a stern look.

“I’m serious, Marc. I don’t want you to think—to not use it just because you want to make me happy, or because you wanna seem like a big tough guy. You do make me happy, and I know you’re tough, regardless of whether or not you choose to tell me to stop. Okay?”

He could hear the sincerity in your tone, the genuine concern lacing your words. He swallowed. He wasn't going to lie and say it wouldn’t be hard for him to safeword—he didn’t like admitting defeat, showing weakness or cracking under the pressure. But this wasn’t some mission or fistfight with an adversary, he reminded himself—this was you. He was safe, and he trusted you, and he was supposed to enjoy this. Finally, he nodded at you, and you mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before pulling yourself off of him completely.

He watched you like a hawk, eyes trained on you intently, analyzing your every move in anticipation. You carefully reached for his waistband, and he obliged, lifting his hips from the bed to allow you to undress him. You pulled his briefs down in the same motion, discarding Marc’s final two articles of clothing and leaving him bare before you.

His cock was at full mast, resting atop his navel as he drew in slow, deliberate breaths, trying not to feel bashful beneath your scrutinizing gaze. You were still trying to fathom the fact that you had this Adonis of a man splayed out in front of you, completely surrendering himself to you.

He really had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.

“Color?”

You asked, kneeling back on your heels from your position beside him, one hand resting on his abs, just above where the head of his cock was patiently waiting. He breathed out a chuckle.

“You haven’t even done anything yet.”

You raised a brow, and at your persistence, he offered a roll of his eyes.

“Green.”

“Good.”

You smiled, fingers sliding down from his stomach to ghost over the tender skin of his shaft, causing a shiver to crawl up his spine. You were careful to take note of just how his body reacted to each ministration—the way his breath hitched when you finally wrapped your hand around the base, the barely-audible grunt when your thumb swiped the bead of precum from his slit.

You removed your hand briefly just to spit into your palm before you were back on him, beginning a slow and gentle pace of stroking him. He hummed at the motion, his heels digging into the mattress as he threw his head back into the pillows, fingers wrapped around each restraint tightly to give himself something to grip. Your other hand reached over to fondle his balls, and his hips jerked just slightly at the added stimulation.

“S’that feel good, baby?”

You purred, your hand gradually picking up speed as your jerked him. He groaned lowly, nodding at your question.

“Shit, yeah.”

You smirked, carefully shifting so you were kneeling in between his legs, lowering yourself down to lay on your stomach. He watched you closely, bracing himself as you leant forward and suckled one of his heavy balls into your mouth, your other hand continuing its steady pace.

You hummed around his sack and he grunted, abdominal muscles flexing as you popped it out of your mouth and traded it for his other bulb, tongue swirling around the flesh and listening to his small moans of pleasure.

He was trying to stay quiet, you noticed. You didn’t press him on the issue—you knew he wouldn’t be quiet for much longer.

You pushed yourself up and licked a long stripe from base to tip, tongue flicking over his frenulum which caused his hips to quake. You offered a few kitten licks to his slit, tasting the salty precum as you continued to stroke him steadily.

“Fuck, baby—just like that.”

He whispered, eyes squeezed shut at the sensations. He was holding himself back—you wanted him to fall apart.

You carefully drew the head of his cock past your lips, bobbing your head up and down over just the tip, matching your pace to that of your hand. He growled, and your eyes flitted up to watch his biceps strain as he tugged on his bindings, desperately wanting to bury his fingers in your hair. You sank your head lower, taking him deeper, lewd choking noises escaping your lips as you swallowed him down. His hips were weakly thrusting upward, now, his feet planted into the mattress to seek leverage in a sorry effort to fuck into the heat of your mouth. You didn’t stop him—you let him cling to the sliver of control he was desperately seeking, removing your hand to sink your head down completely, allowing him to thrust his cock into the back of your throat with his shallow movements.

“Oh, fuck, baby, fuck.”

He moaned, and you could see the muscles of his stomach clenching as you reached to fondle his balls again. You were breathing in carefully through your nose as he continued to abuse your throat, his length sliding in and out of your mouth sloppily. One sharp thrust caused you to gag and he let out a deep groan from somewhere in his ribcage—you could feel his balls tightening up, thighs flexing.

“Yes, baby, gonna cum in that pretty little mouth, yes—”

You sat up abruptly with a gasp, pulling your body from his completely as his limbs involuntarily jerked beneath you, his back arching at the sudden loss of contact. He yelped, and you could see veins bulging in his arms as he harshly pulled against the restraints.

“Jesus fuck!”

He cried out, hips falling back down into the mattress, defeated. You sat silently, watching as he tried to catch his breath. He blinked the bleariness from his eyes to fix his stare on you—there was a somewhat sadistic shine in your gaze as you met his eyes challengingly. When you didn’t back down, you were surprised when he let out a bark of a laugh.

“So this is your game, sweetheart? You gonna edge me? Really?”

He was trying to intimidate you—you could see right through him. He was mocking you, hoping to berate you into submission, into backing down. It wouldn’t work.

When you didn’t respond, he shook his head lightly, feigning composure as he lazily closed his eyes.

“Go on—have your fun.”

He offered, a small smile on his lips. You felt anger briefly flare up inside you, but you quelled it down with logic—you were in control, right now. You had all the power.

It didn’t matter how disciplined Marc’s psyche was—his body betrayed him. It told the truth. Your hand reached back up towards his shaft, and his cock jumped beneath your touch, thighs tensing just slightly. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from giggling with satisfaction—Marc’s face was set into a look of quiet concentration, lips pulled into a straight line.

You started again, the same way you had before, with your spit-soaked hand slowly escalating until your lips joined in. His noises were subdued—they came from deep within his chest, escaping through barely parted lips only when he was powerless to stop them. He writhed beneath you, responsive to your touch, and when the telltale signs of his approaching orgasm began revealing themselves again, you ceased your movement.

“FUCK!”

He yelled, back arching off the bed as he attempted to curl into a sitting position, but he was snapped back into complacency by the fabric bound to his wrists. There were veins bulging in his neck as he seethed, sweat beginning to bead along his hairline. You blinked up at him innocently as he glared at you, eyes dark and filled with disdain.

“So fuckin’ pleased with yourself, huh, baby? This what you wanted? To rile me up? God, if I wasn’t tied up right now, I’d—”

“You’d what?”

He blinked at your interruption, your voice showcasing your defiance.

“What’re you gonna do, Marc? Nothing. You’re not gonna do anything. You’re gonna sit back, and fucking take it, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

His jaw clenched down tightly, his face practically trembling with rage. His nostrils flared as he stared at you, trying to win the silent battle between you, in complete denial of the fact that you were completely in control. He wasn’t backing down, unwilling to admit that he was powerless—so you reached forward and scratched your nails down the length of his shaft. He shouted in protest, hips jolting backwards to retreat from the uncomfortable sensation, and he growled lowly in his throat before sagging back into the mattress—his eyes were still on you, but his lips were sealed shut.

“That’s what I thought.”

You antagonized, leaning down to take his cock back into your mouth. It was taking increasingly smaller increments of time to get him to the edge, and you continued—once, then twice more. On the third round, he’d nearly lost it, but you squeezed around the base of his cock tightly to force the orgasm to dissipate as it peaked.

“You fuckin’ bitch.”

He snapped, and the words seemed to surprise him just as much as they surprised you. A heat of the moment utterance, offered in a second of desperation—but he didn’t take it back. Maybe you should feel hurt—instead, you felt pride swell inside you as you stared down at him wickedly.

“Such mean words from a guy who can’t even see me through his tears.”

It was true—there were tears streaming down either side of his face, eyes red and puffy as he fought viciously against your torture. He shook his head at you, overwhelmed with anger, but he couldn’t hold back the sob that practically pulled itself from his lungs when you gave a single lick up his shaft.

“Oh, fuck you, fuck—”

“You can cum whenever you want, Marc. I’m not stopping you.”

You tone was even and steady, expression blank as you studied him. His brows furrowed, his eyes suspicious as his breathing slowed again. You smiled coyly at him, innocently, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips—he didn’t kiss you back. He just watched you as you carefully resumed your position between his legs, waiting to hear your stipulation.

“You just have to beg for it.”

Marc’s venomous laugh was replaced with a long whine as you took his cock in your hands once more, stroking him a few times before simply holding him there. He sneered at you.

“I don’t beg.”

“Then you don’t cum.”

You shrugged easily, releasing his throbbing member from your grasp and allowing it to drop back down against his stomach. You could see every muscle in his body fighting for release—his heels digging into the mattress, his arms continuously straining against their restraints. You tutted at him condescendingly, your eyes mocking sympathy as you stood from the bed. He studied you carefully as you began to remove your clothes until your were completely naked. You rejoined him on the bed, loving the way his eyes turned ravenous as he admired your body.

“If you wanna torture yourself, Marc, that’s your choice.”

You purred, crawling up until you were straddling him. You watched the way his breath hitched when you were hovering over his cock, and you felt it jump beneath your cunt—but instead of dropping down, you crept further upwards until you were straddling his ribcage. He looked at you, confused.

“So what are you gonna do?”

His voice was gravelly and hoarse, raw from the moans you had been pulling from him. You leaned down and shoved your tongue into his mouth—he whimpered at the intimacy, but you pulled away soon after.

“I’m gonna ride your face, and you’re gonna be a good boy and make me cum on your tongue.”

The whine that he let out was carnal—you’d never heard anything like it in your life, and Marc might’ve been embarrassed if it weren’t for the painful arousal that was burning a hole through the bottom of his stomach. He tilted his head back as you began to position yourself over him, lips already parting in anticipation of tasting you, but you paused, your eyes turning gentle. Your hand reached down to stroke through his damp hair, and he pressed his head into your touch.

“Color?”

You whispered, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat at he swallowed. He breathed in once, then twice, before meeting your eyes again.

“Green.”

You settled your knees on either side of his head, your folds already soaking from your time toying with Marc—you shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath on your awaiting cunt, and with trembling thighs, you slowly and carefully lowered yourself onto his mouth.

You lurched forward at his eagerness, his tongue immediately breaching your entrance and slurping up the arousal that was flooding your pussy. You yelped in surprise, arms reaching forward to grip the headboard as you tried to keep most of your weight off of him, allowing your face to just barely skate over his features.

He mumbled something into your core, and you lifted yourself from him in concern, worried that you'd hurt him.

“What?”

You asked for clarification, brows furrowed, but when you met his eyes from between your legs, they were dark and gleaming savagely.

“I said, sit the fuck down.”

He growled again, and you could feel the headboard bend as he strained against the fabric on his wrists, obviously wanting to grab your waist and pull you down onto his mouth with full force. You let out a breathy laugh before you eased your way back onto him, allowing yourself to relax more against his face. The thick muscle of his tongue immediately began fucking into you and it wasn’t long before you were grinding against his face, his nose rubbing up against your bundle of nerves and his mouth savoring your juices. Your head was thrown back in ecstasy, and Marc watched you from his position between your legs as you came apart on his tongue, quiet cries of his name leaving your lips as your rode out your high on his mouth.

Marc greedily lapped up all you had to offer, and he almost whined in disapproval when you began picking yourself up off of him—but then you were turning around, and he got a perfect view of your perfect ass as you slowly settled your cunt back down to his mouth and—

Fuck. He nearly cried into your pussy when he felt your lips attach themselves to his cock, and he jostled against you, hips jolting upwards of their own volition. He squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his head back, trying to fight the orgasm that he was already teetering on the edge of. You hand came up and squeezed tightly around the base of his cock, helping stave off his climax.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

You hissed, and Marc gulped before diving straight back into you cunt, his lips wrapping around your puffy clit as he suckled it into his mouth and flicked over it with his tongue. You moaned, you fingers beginning to stroke his cock again. When you turned your attention back to his length, however, his mouth immediately stopped its movement. You sank against him, rolling your eyes in theatrical annoyance.

“Jesus, you really can’t multitask, can you?”

“Y/N.”

He spoke your name lowly and with a warning edge, and you craned your neck to look at him—his head was peaking out from behind your asscheek, eyes desperately searching yours. You could see he was struggling to maintain his composure, but he kept his voice level and steady.

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.”

He voice cracked at the very end of his statement, but you appreciated his honesty with you. You swiftly removed your hand from where it was wrapped around him and he let out a long sigh, steeling himself before attaching himself to your clit once more.

Your second orgasm came easily, creeping up and washing over you without warning as Marc continued to lavish your clit with his tongue, the obscene noises he was making only adding to your arousal. He slowed his movements as you came down from your high, lapping at your release as you slowly pulled you cunt away from his mouth. You pulled yourself off of him completely, kneeling at his side and pressing a sweet, gentle kiss against his lips. His face was coated in your slick and his eyes were alight with a sort of lovesickness, as if he’d completely forgotten the torture you’d been putting him through simply because he got to watch you fall apart on his tongue. You pressed your forehead against his for a moment before you swung your leg over his hip, finally settling yourself where he needed you most.

Anticipation flickered in his dark brown eyes, his body tensing beneath you as you reached between your legs to stroke his cock, using your dripping arousal as lube to give him a few tentative strokes. He hissed, his hips jumping at the touch, but he immediately froze when you pressed the head into your entrance. He held his breath.

“I’m gonna ride you now, okay?”

You asked, although it was less of a question and more of a statement. He nodded vigorously, eyes squeezed shut and head turned to the side as he braced himself for the feeling of your hot channel swallowing him whole.

“Marc.”

You probed softly, and he winked one eye open, looking up at you where you were paused, right in the moment before sheer bliss. You eyed him warily.

“Color?”

He smiled softly up at you, more relaxed than he’d been this whole interaction—finally, finally relinquishing his control and allowing you to take the reins.

“Green.”

The duet of moans that filled the room was intoxicating as you slowly eased yourself down onto his rock-hard length, the stretch offering a sting that was just painful enough to be pleasurable. Marc’s head was thrown back into the pillows as he began to ramble incomprehensibly.

“Oh, God, oh, fuck yes, so fuckin’ good, fuck—”

You braced yourself by planting your arms against his sturdy chest, raising up your hips until just the tip remained before slamming yourself back down, burying him to the hilt within you. A wrecked sob sounded from his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, God, I can’t—”

You settled into a steady pace, angling your hips backwards just slightly so his cock rutted up against that place deep inside you that sent you reeling. You keened, grinding back and forth against him as he moaned wantonly, knuckles turning white as he pulled on the restraints with every ounce of his strength. You orgasm was rapidly approaching, and with each careful plunge of his cock into you, you felt the coil tightening.

“Fuck, Marc, gonna cum on your cock, baby.”

You whimpered, throwing your head back as your walls clenched down around him. You must’ve blacked out for a moment, your vision going bright white as pleasure speared through you—when you regained your bearings and sensation over your limbs, your ears were blessed with a sound you weren’t sure you’d get to hear.

Marc was falling apart.

“Please, oh, God, Y/N, baby, please let me cum for you, I can’t—can’t hold it anymore, please, please, please, baby, please let me cum, pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

There were sobs ripping themselves from his lips as tears flooded his eyes and streamed down his cheeks, the muscles of his abdomen clenched so tightly you thought he might sprain something. The fluttering of your tight walls against him was unbearable, truly torturous—he couldn’t do it anymore.

His eyes blinked open to watch you as your hands crept up the length of his strained arms, fingers deftly untying the knots that held him hostage to the bed. His arms fell limp at his sides when released from their hold, and he looked up at you with wide eyes, glassy with tears.

You pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Been so good for me, baby. Go ahead and take what you want, Marc, it’s yours. Cum for me.”

Something snapped inside of him. A vein throbbed in his forehead as his hands flew to your hips, planting you firmly against him as he began to thrust up into you at a rapid pace, his hips slamming against your thighs loudly and roughly. You yelped in surprise at his sudden burst of energy, and he was staring intently at the place where his cock was splitting you open, hips relentlessly pistonning upwards into you as he slammed your body down against him to meet each thrust.

You didn’t expect to cum again, but the harsh drag of his cock inside of you as his hands grounded you firmly sent you hurling across the edge, your cunt clamping down on his aching length as you pulled him across the threshold with you.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, gonna fill you up, baby, cummin’ so hard, fuuuck—”

Each harsh pump upwards was punctuated with a grunt as he spilled inside of you, his cock pumping you full of his white hot seed as he continued pounding into you relentlessly. Even as you came down from the climax that had blindsided you, and even after he’d completely emptied himself inside of your slick walls, he continued rutting up into you, his face contorted in a look of pain and determination as he gritted his teeth.

“Woah, Marc, hey, hey, slow down—”

You urged, reached to wrap your fingers around his wrists from where they were still firmly attached to your waist, the wet sounds of his cock still pumping in and out of you filling the room. His eyes finally looked up to you, the haziness clearing as your worried face settled on him.

“It’s okay, Marc, you’re okay.”

You assured, and he finally let your full weight rest down onto him, his body slowly rolling to a halt as the aftershocks of his intense pleasure pulsed through his limbs, blood pumping loudly in his ears. He was breathing heavily, his heart beating against his ribcage harshly, but his eyes watched you as you smiled down at him, reaching forward to cup his jaw in one hand as the other ran through his sweaty hair.

“There we go. There you are. There’s my handsome boy.”

All at once, he collapsed into a fit of sobs again, sitting up to pull you against his chest impossibly tight as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt your heart break as you coddled him, one hand stroking the back of his head and the other rubbing soothing patterns into the bare skin of his back. Years and years of internalized vulnerability spilled out of him in your embrace, and you held him there until his stuttering cries turned into shaky exhales, his face buried in the crook of his neck. He fell back into the pillows, pulling you down on top of him and keeping you snugly pulled against his body.

His cock was still nestled deep inside of you, and you could feel Marc’s cum leaking out and creating a stickiness between your thighs and atop his hips. When you shifted to move, he tightened his hold, his breath wavering just slightly.

“Please, don’t. Just—stay with me. Like this. For just awhile longer. Please.”

He whispered against your temple, begging for this brief moment of reprieve, of absolution, of solace. You sank into his chest, breathing in his heady scent and allowing yourself to indulge in the intimacy of this moment, too—a moment of comfort, of safety, of resolve.

Marc had one final thought before sleep overtook him.

Is this what being okay feels like?

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