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gojotojis · 4 months

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When the Party’s Over pt.3

Part 1 Part 2

summary: you and sukuna are now dating, only you’re keeping it a secret but secrets eventually come out.

pairing: college! sukuna x college! fem reader

content MDNI: slight angst ?, bestfriends brother, frenemies, secret romance, soft sukuna, squirting,oral (m receiving) , unprotected sex, vaginal sex, riding, cum eating, fingering, fluff, aftercare, dacryphillia, oral choking, praise kink, overstimulation

This ended up being so fluffy, pls don’t beat me up. Soft sukuna just has me in a chokehold! Also this is my favorite smut I’ve written thus far!

Choso insisted on you coming over for a John Wick marathon, of course Yuki was there, which you didn’t mind. Yuki’s actually really nice to you and her music taste is so similar to yours, you’re constantly making eachother playlists and sending eachother songs you think the other would like. You’ve never had a girl friend so it’s nice.

You sit on the couch next to Yuji whose eyes widen everytime John fires his gun, while Choso and Yuki sit cuddled up on the other side of the sofa.

You have to admit, Johns incredibly sexy. You’d happily sit through four movies soley about him but your eyes keep drifting towards the stairs.

All you want to do is crawl into Sukunas bed and sleep but you can’t. You’re scared for Choso to find out, scared that it’ll ruin your friendship. Sukuna doesn’t care, he doubts Choso will give a shit and maybe he’s right but you’re not ready.

You and Sukuna have only been dating for three months now and you love being in your own little bubble with him. You also love the thrill you get from sneaking around, the way he sneaks you into his house after hours just so you can fall asleep on him.

You’re not sure the separation anxiety you feel is healthy, he’s the only thing on your mind, the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about when you go to sleep. He’s your first boyfriend, your first everything and you hope he’s your last.

It feels so good to be utterly obsessed with someone and them to reciprocate it. It’s also a rush knowing your boyfriend hates everyone but you, that he’s mean in public but when he’s alone with you, he’s on his knees telling you how much he loves you.

You feel like you’re going insane, you need to feel his skin against yours. You’re never not clinging to him like a monkey, making him carry you everywhere. You’re just so obsessed with him, it makes you want to rip your hair out, definitely not healthy but you don’t give a shit.

You anxiously start eating the popcorn Yujis holding, fighting the urge to run up stairs and tackle Sukuna. This is different, so different, whatever you felt for Choso doesn’t come even a fraction close to how you feel about Sukuna.

“I’m so tired,” you fake yawn, stretching your arms up and Yuji scoffs.

“It’s only been an hour,” he says and you yawn again for emphasis.

“I had such a long day, I’m sorry guys,” you say innocently and Choso shakes his head. “Just go to sleep in one of the guest rooms, I can take you home in the morning,” he says and you nod standing up.

Yuji looks at you suspiciously but all you do is offer an apologetic smile before you’re climbing up the stairs. Your fingers wrap the handle to Sukunas door and open it. He’s sitting at his desk, engrossed in a game of call of duty while he curses out someone on his headset.

You lock the door and peel your clothes off till you’re naked. You pull your hair from its ponytail and let it fall to your hips before you walk toward him. He looks to you and then back to the screen before looking at you again with wide eyes and you giggle.

“I gotta go,” he says over the headset.

“We’re about to fucking win!” you hear someone yell at him as you turn the chair to face you. You climb onto his lap and reach for his hand as his teammates scream at him through the headset.

He watches you take his hand and press his fingers against your pussy, covering them in your arousal before you lift them to your mouth and lick them. He throws his head back and closes his eyes.

“I really gotta fucking go,” he says before closing the game, and the shouting stops. He quickly removes his headset and sets downs his controller.

“Hi,” you smile innocently.

“Hi baby,” he breathes before his lips find yours. Your lips brush and tongues lap against eachother. His hands slide over the curve of your waists and up to your tits. His large hands splay across them and he squeezes them hard.

“Does my good girl need some attention?” He asks, his tongue licking the sides of your breasts and you nod.

“How bad?” He asks, rolling a nipple between his fingers as you grind down against his bulge.

“Really bad,” you say creating a bouncing rhythm. He can feel the wet patch you’re making on his crotch. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt and he lifts his arms up, letting you take it off.

You’ll never get tired of his body, the ridges, the muscles and the defined v at his hips. Your nails graze his abs before they start tracing over the tattoos on his arms. His body is hot to the touch, and he shivers under your cold fingers.

“You gonna ride me?” He asks. You’re a pillow princess, you love just laying down and taking it while he does most of the work but you’ve never done that before, yet it sounds dirty and you like it.

“Yes,” you say confidently. You’ve only ever done missionary, he knows it’s your favorite, it’s just so intimate, being able to see his expressions and watch where your bodies connect as he fucks into you.

He knows he’s gonna be helping you by the end of this but he pats your ass and you sit up, letting him slide his pants off and his cock springs free. Your mouth waters at the sight and you slide down to your knees.

Your hand wraps around it and he hisses. You watch the way his abs contract when you spit repeatedly on it till it’s nice and sloppy, just how he likes it. You press several kisses to the tip letting precum smear against you lips, teasing him before you lick up the sides.

He groans as you feel the veins against your tongue. He stands up so he can get a better look at you when he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth widens as you breathe through your nose like he taught you, tears gather in your eyes, looking up at him until his dick is pressed against the back of your throat.

“Gonna fuck the shit out of this mouth,” he groans and your pussy throbs. His fingers thread through your hair and slowly pulls out of your mouth before plunging back in. His dick is so fucking warm in your mouth, he groans when you lick the underside. He starts thrusting into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as he watches you cry and it turns him on so fucking bad watching the tears flow down your cheeks.

You’re gagging on his dick, your hands gripping his thighs praying nobody can hear you choking.

“So good for me baby,” he grunts, forcing more down your throat and your eyes widen but you try to relax. He’s buried in your throat, your nose touching his pelvis. He thrusts in out, beating the back of your throat, saliva smearing all over your face and dripping onto your chest.

Your fingers find your pussy and you force your middle and index finger inside of you, desperate for a release as you bounce on your fingers. Your mouth cries against his cock, and it’s enough that he’s pulling out. He watches you fingering yourself and loses it, cum hits your face in thick ropes and then your chest, you fingers leave your cunt and you swipe the cum off your lips, sucking them off before you stand up and push Sukuna back down into the chair.

He watches you glide your fingers over your nipples, scooping up cum before you swallow it. You’re a fucking freak, not even close to what he dreamed of, but better.

You straddle him as he leans back, letting you take control. You grip his cock and line it up at your sopping hole. Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto it, the stretch one of your favorite parts.

Little tremors hit you as your pussy swallows him until your ass is flush against his thighs. He’s so fucking deep, you think you might cum if you move. His full attention is on you, hands gripping the arms of the chair.

You pull up, feeling his cock slowly leave you before you bounce back down. You moan as quietly as you can as you bounce up and down his cock. This feels so good but it’s so much work, work you’re not use to and you look at him with those big doe eyes. He was waiting for this.

“Help me,” you whisper and his hands slide to your ass, lifting you up and slamming you down on him, hard.

Your teeth sink into his shoulder as he slams you up and down his cock over and over, sweat starts to coat your body and your tits bounce with each thrust. You hear gunshots downstairs from the tv, praying they don’t hear Sukuna drilling into you.

“The sweetest fucking pussy,” he grunts as you grind against him, you feel your stomach knot and your pussy clamps as he batters your cervix. You start to shake against him and liquid gushes from your cunt but he doesn’t stop, he never does.

He fucks into you like he wants to touch the tip of your skull, your head lulls to the side, tongue sticking out as you gasp for air feeling your boyfriend demolish your cunt until you’re squirting again and dripping down his thighs.

“Too much ngghh, too much Kuna,” you cry when his thumb rubs at your clit and your eyes roll back. His mouth finds yours and he swallows your screams as you cum together, feeling him flood you with his seed.

You slump against him as he carries you to his bathroom. He turns the shower on and steps inside with you still wrapped around him. You whine when he lifts you off of him and sets you on your feet, your knees are wobbly as he reaches for your pink loofah and lathers his body wash onto it.

He begins scrubbing your body while you turn your face so the water hits it, washing away his cum. You reach for your face wash you left and start massaging it into your face as he gets on his knees.

You shiver as he gently washes your sore and abused pussy. He press’s kisses against your belly as you grab his rag and pour body wash on it. He stands up and you start scrubbing him, at least the places you can reach till he has to take over.

Once you’re done and he’s dressed you in his clothes, you climb on top of him in bed, resting your head on his chest.

“My little spider monkey,” he calls you, the way you cling to him. You look up and smile before kissing his jaw as he scrolls through Netflix.

You all but squeal at the smell of fried food, the flickering multicolored lights and the sound of screaming. You fucking love the fair.

Sukuna fucking hates it, he hates the screaming and the guaranteed vomiting. He still hasn’t forgiven you for throwing up on him in the Gravitron once the ride ended when you were twelve and him fourteen.

In your defense you housed about six funnel cakes, a super size coke slushee and eight fried Oreos that day before you got on the ride. You learned your lesson that day.

Even though he hates it, it’s the smile on your face that makes it worth it as you lace your fingers together and walk around.

You immediately guide him toward the flying swings, the tendant scans your wristbands and you take the seat infront of Sukuna as more people get on.

Sukuna waits for what he knows is coming, he listens to you burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. You laugh manically when you ride rollercoasters and etc, people look at you like you’re deranged while you laugh like the Joker.

It’s fucking hilarious as you look back at him. He can’t help but laugh at the way his girlfriend sounds like a fucking maniac. Even when the rides over you’re clutching your sides laughing. It’s the adrenaline no doubt.

You spend the night riding almost every ride, nearly breaking your neck on the bumper cars when some kid drove straight into you until you were slammed into the wall. Sukuna threatened to kick his “little ass” out the car and he broke down crying which ended in you both banned from the bumper cars.

“He was a pussy,” Sukuna huffs as you lick at your Icecream cone.

“Baby, he couldn’t have been older than eight,” you say and he shrugs leaning down to lick your Icecream. He watches you take a bite with your front teeth and stops walking.

“Only psychos eat Icecream like that,” he says making you laugh.

“Congrats, you’re dating a psycho,” you say taking another bite until your eyes land on something.

Sukuna clutches his ears as you threaten to burst his eardrum with your screaming.

“Fuck!” He says loudly with his finger in his ear. You ignore it as you finish your icecream and tug him toward the booth full of Sanrio plushies. “I want them all,” you say to the worker and she hands you a basketball.

You look down at it with a frown as she points to the hoops behind her. Sukuna hands her money as you toss the ball, watching it bounce off the rim.

You have two more shots and she hands you a ball, you throw it and miss. Sukuna can tell you’re getting frustrated with the way your hands form into fists.

He walks who behind you as you take the last basketball. He presses his hand flat against your stomach and the other one stretches out behind your hand that holds the basketball.

He pulls your joined hands back and lifts you up with one hand so you can throw it and it makes it through the hoop.

“I did it! I did it!” You jump up and down, technically you both did but he doesn’t care to correct you.

“That’s cheating,” the worker says arms crossed.

“Give her the fucking toy,” Sukuna says making the girl get up and walk to the wall of plushies.

“Which one baby?” He asks and you point to a giant My Melody one dressed up as a watermelon, she hands it to you. The things nearly the size of you as you hug it, you beam up at him as he holds your hand.

He brings your joined hands up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand as you walk around. There’s two rides you haven’t gone on yet, the Ferris wheel and the Gravitron.

Sukuna absolutely refuses when you walk him toward the Gravitron. You actually feel bad that you gave him childhood trauma because he plants his feet to the ground and doesn’t budge no matter how hard you pull.

“Please Kuna, we can stand on opposite ends of the ride. I promise I won’t throw up on you,” you beg but he doesn’t budge. You sigh and look down at the ground, like a kicked and dejected puppy.

“You’re fucking annoying” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple and grabbing your hand. You smile, leaving your plushie with the machine operator as you both step inside. You giggle as he leans against the wall two mats over.

Everyone gets in and the ride starts, you feel the pressure of the zero gravity at work as your body’s stuck against the wall. The machine ride spins, Sukunas watching you and the expression your face makes. You’re not laughing, not even close.

You feel sick, absolutely sick and dizzy. Your eyes squeeze shut until the ride ends and you’re running out. You lean over the railing, prepared to vomit as you take several deep breaths. Sukuna rubs your back and holds your hair but luckily nothing comes up.

“You’re never going on that ride again,” he says and you nod, you can’t help but laugh once the queasiness leaves you. “You should’ve seen your face, you thought I was going to throw up on you,” you say, pretending to puke on him and he glares, carrying your plushie.

“You’d be walking home if you did,” he says and you roll your eyes knowing damn well he would never let that happen.

You stop him and stand on your tippie toes, pulling him down for a kiss. You smile against his lips, you’ll never get tired of this.

You rest against his chest as you both stare at the tv.

“So he calls her baby girl and she calls him chocolate thunder but they’re strictly platonic?” He asks and you nod laughing as you watch criminal minds.

“You’re into some freaky shit,” he says making you sit up so you’re straddling him. You push your ass against his dick and smile.

“Very,” you say before you lift your shirt up, revealing your bare chests. He sits up and starts kissing you, oblivious to the feet running up the stairs until his doors being slammed open. You scream and climb off of him, clutching your chest.

Your face reddens, the urge to cover it but your hands are hiding your tits. He moves to block your body and hands you back his shirt. Yuji and Choso’s faces are burned into your brain as you slip the shirt on. You don’t lean over Sukuna, terrified.

“What the fuck!” You hear Choso say and you slightly peak over Sukunas shoulder.

Choso storms out of the room and you jump out of the bed.

“Choso wait!” You say as he jogs down the stairs and out the front door.

You walk back to the room to see Yuji sitting next to Sukuna giving him a fist bump.

“No way you bagged y/n, She’s pretty bad,” Yuji says and you slap the back of both their heads.

You sigh pushing your food around. It’s been a week and Choso doesn’t answer your texts, he doesn’t sit with you at lunch and he switched seats in the classes you share so now you’re forced to sit next to Mahito who you hate.

“Has he said anything to you?” You ask Sukuna as he steals one of your fries.

“Nah, he’s been staying over at Yuki’s. Who cares anyways” he says eating another fry until you’re pushing your tray towards him.

“I do and you should too, he’s your brother,” you say and he sighs.

“So what do you want me to do, I can beat him until he talks to you,” he offers genuinely, you try not to laugh at his violent and insane behavior.

“No, but I told you this would happen,” you say and he shrugs, holding a fry up to your lips until you eat it.

“Good girl,” he says as Yuki sits infront if you making you sit up. You’re prepared for her to yell at you but she doesn’t.

“I know Choso’s being stubborn, he told me everything. It’s really not his business on what you two do with eachother which I expressed so now he’s not talking to me,” she says taking a fry.

“He’s being a fucking diva,” Sukuna says making you laugh at him using such a word. “Break up with him and see how fast he comes running,” Sukuna concludes. The idea sounds absurd but Yuki’s pulling her phone out and tapping away at the screen.

“Oh you guys are cruel,” you say and she hits send.

“So what exactly is this?” She asks, pointing between you two.

“We’re dating, three months now,” you smile, being able to say it so openly feels nice.

“Oh that’s pathetic,” Sukuna says as Choso enters the cafeteria and walks towards your table. He holds his phone up at Yuki.

“Are you serious?”.

“What use is a boyfriend that won’t speak to you?” She asks and you take notes. She’s so nonchalant about it, serves him right.

“Fine, you want to talk let’s talk,” Choso says taking the seat between you and Yuki.

“You’re fucking a guy that told you the only jobs you’d get were either on a pole or your back and you’re fucking a girl that prayed to God for three weeks that you would catch Syphilis,” he says, Yuki covers her mouth to conceal a laugh.

“Well, she only does one of those jobs and I’m syphilis free,” Sukuna says and you pinch his ass through the opening in his chair making him squirm.

“He fucking hates you and you just…spread your legs for him?” Choso asks making your breathing hitch.

“Shut the fuck up, and choose your nexts word wisely,” Sukuna warns.

“That’s not what I meant. I just don’t get it, you’ve been lying and fucking my brother. It’s weird, and what’s suppose to happen when it’s over?” He asks.

“Nothing, because it never will be,” Sukuna answers, seemingly bored of this conversation.

“Choso, you’re my bestfriend and you always will be but what I do and who I do it with is my choice. I’m not sorry that it’s Sukuna or that I love him. But I am sorry that you feel the need to be mean and avoid me. When you got with Yuki, I accepted it. It’s caused us to make adjustments to our friendship that I’ve happily complied with, there’s no reason you can’t do the same,” you say with a level head and he nods.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he sighs and you smile.

“I promise you, your brother takes good care of me,” you assure.

“In every aspect,” Sukuna adds making Choso cringe and Yuki laugh.

“This conversations boring me, come home and stop being a bitch” Sukuna says.

“Fine but no more sex jokes, and please lock your fucking door” Choso says.

“Fine, now beat it. I need a word with my girlfriend “ Sukuna says making Yuki and Choso dip. He pulls your chair toward him and leans in till your forehead is pressed against his.

“You love me?” He asks and you nod.

“I love you more than I ever hated you, so much fucking more,”.

I know some of you wanted Choso’s reaction, I rewrote it so many times but I honestly don’t think he cares that much. He has no romantic feelings for her. But I do think the idea of her and his brother who is an absolute ass would seem quite disturbing.

Also she’s not pregnant! Thank y’all for the endless support on this. Gojo Tinder piece coming up next!

@whosmarjj @getoxmahito @xra1 @swoozleee @lillycore

@carefree-flowerchild

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna smut #sukuna au #ryomen sukuna #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #smut #lucygojo

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lumi077 · 7 months

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X-Men HCs

A/N: my hyperfixations are not very hyperfixating rn. literally they’re changing so fast. But take some nice little relationship headcanons, and the next Chapter of Winters’ Servants is coming soon!!

Characters included: Logan (Wolverine), Scott (Cyclops), Kurt (NightCrawler), Jean

Warnings: potential OOC, nothing else really. kept it nice and light.

Logan (Wolverine):

Logan would absolutely, if you use them, stretch out your new hairbands for you. If you express that you dislike using them unless stretched, he’ll offer to wear them on his wrists for a day or two till they’re stretched to your liking. It could be the most girly hair ties and he’ll proudly wear three on each wrist. When asked, he’ll happily tell them “Just stretchin ‘em for my woman/man/partner”

Scary dog privileges? Scary dog privileges. He adores making you feel safe enough to wear the most skin revealing or feminine clothing. You want to wear something revealing/very feminine but tell him you're scared? He’ll instantly assure you and tell you to wear anything you want. If someone says something, he won’t hesitate to shut them up before you even hear.

There’s going to be a point in your relationship that you’ll realize he absolutely doesn’t care about any of the gross stuff you do. Burp, Fart, don’t shave? He really doesn’t care in the least bit. Definitely the boyfriend that will go, unphased, into the bathroom while you're on the toilet and brush his teeth or shower without a care in the world. If you are comfortable that is, and he secretly preens when he realizes that you're comfy enough to do that stuff around him lol.

I wholeheartedly believe that when he realizes he wants you to be his forever partner, he’ll gift you his dog tags. His past is very personal to him, because he could never remember it for a good part of it. His dog tags are only second to him getting down on one knee.

Speaking of getting down on one knee, sorry for all the people who want it to be a surprise, but he won’t make a big deal and will tell you about his plans beforehand. No surprise engagement, and no public one. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he wants to make sure you’re ready and want it too. He doesn’t put much on marriage because it doesn’t change much, and doesn't want you to feel pressured to say yes because there are people there. He’ll love you the same married or not, but he does note how pretty you look with the ring he bought you on your finger.

I personally believe he would be more likely to get in a committed relationship with another mutant. I just think a lot of the X-Men would want to be able to relate to their partner and have their partner relate to them, and Logan is going to live a long life so…I can't truly see him with a normal person.

If you are apart of the X-Men, while he won’t baby you or anything, he finds himself keeping an eye on you the most. There have been a fair amount of times that you find yourself having a Logan shield on the field, and even more often if you are susceptible to projectiles.

Dates are a norm at this point, Fridays are always the day he takes you out. It’s usually the same place, but he thinks it’s nice.

Flowers are also a norm, if you mention you like them.

He doesn’t do much on Valentine’s day because he already does all the normal valentine’s day stuff it weekly or bi-weekly. Does get cheat food so you guys can eat it and watch stupid rom com movies though.

Scott (Cyclops):

First and Foremost Scott is such a golden retriever. Anything you want, he obtains quickly and with 0 thoughts of you getting him something in return. He just wants to see his partner happy and healthy, with a smile on their face as often as possible.

He is very big on PDA, likes to hold your hand, or slip an arm around your waist, put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, etc. Overall he just likes touching you, and just because you're in public doesn’t mean anything.

Adding on to his liking of PDA, I feel like he’s possessive. Like in the one X-Men movie, when Logan goes into the past and stops bad shit from happening and goes to touch Jean and he blocks him? Yeah he does that with you but with everyone. He likes people knowing your his and what’s better than you two being attached at the hip in public?

He likes when you wear his things as well, not so much for people knowing you’re his like mentioned above but just because you're adorable in it. Want his sweatshirt? He’s giving it to you even though it's negative 5 out. His cologne? Just take the whole bottle, even though it’s brand new. He’ll get another one!!

When he’s on missions and away, he gives you so many shirts and even a pair of sweats. Sprays the stuffed animals he got you with his cologne, same with your pillows. He will expect the same if it’s you going away for a long time. Or you’ll come back to him sleeping on your side of the bed where it smells the most like you, his face stuffed in one of your pillows that has one of your shirts on it.

He is very vocal about being your boyfriend, and you being his partner. Everyone in the world knows, yet no one asked. He’ll gush about you to whoever will listen, the rest of the team is so done but they do admit his devotion to you is adorable.

All the ladies and gents and nonbinary pals who want an over the top surprise proposal, this is your man. It’s super romantic, he pays for your nails if you wear them, getting your hair done, and a new outfit. And you can’t even tell it’s because he wants to propose because he does this all the time. Then he takes you to your fav restaurant and pops the question.

Make no mistake though, he has to be 100% sure that you want him to propose to do so. He’s so attuned to you and your likings he gets your dream ring without having to ask everyone close to you first. Which also assures him no one can spoil the surprise.

He is one of the few ones who probably doesn’t care if you're a mutant or not, because his love is 100% blind. He would probably want a mutant partner, but once he falls he falls hard.

He also won’t baby you if you’re in the X-Men, but if he happens to laser them first? Not his fault.

Kurt (NightCrawler):

He is a very shy partner at first. But once he falls for you, and you make it obvious you have fallen for him it all goes out the window. He is a completely different person around you, confident and flirty. He is just so in love.

Teases you almost constantly, he’s a teaser with everyone but he loves to see you blush and squirm from his words.

Loves if you run your fingers through his fur, and almost emits a low purr when you do. If you brush it for him, especially if he doesn’t ask you but you WANT to, he swears he is going to marry you one day.

He takes you places you told him you wanted to go to when you guys were in the talking stage. Paris? Done, let’s get some baguettes for back home! The Bahamas? Pack a bathing suit, and make sure to bring the detangling brush.

He loves non sexual acts of intimacy, like taking baths together!! Your fingers feel like heaven on his scalp when you massage the shampoo and conditioner in his hair. He also loves touching your body, he’s always careful with the fact he has claws but he would never dream of hurting you.

Big on cuddling and all that stuff in private, but I feel like he would want to keep it behind closed doors. Not because he doesn’t love you, but because he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands on you otherwise.

Long missions with him are never a problem, he’ll just teleport to you wherever you may be and spend time with you before heading back.

He’s your call bird, and the gossip you two are able to share with one another? It is divine. He seems to know everything, and you know the most obvious stuff but he always makes you feel like Sherlock Holmes when you tell him things he already heard and was going to tell you about. Which is why he always makes you spill the tea first lol.

For marriage and proposing, I can see him accidentally proposing on a mission. Tensions are high, and he’s worried that one of you won’t make it home to the other. The thought alone makes him dread the upcoming battle, but he grabs your hand and looks into your eyes and states with all the conviction in the world “We’ll get married after this.”

You brush it off, after you both survive the battle, that he didn’t mean it. He just wanted you to know how much he loved you. But oh how wrong you are when you walk into a room with all your close friends and family, Kurt in the middle down on one knee and asking you to marry him. Your face was priceless, and lucky for him everyone took pictures.

He definitely carries around a photo with you wherever he goes, and when he prays he takes it out and not only asks that God protect him, but you as well because there is no life beyond you. Even if you’re not religious he’ll still do it, just for the peace of mind.

Jean:

She’s the black cat of the relationship for sure. I mean, she has a lot of issues but she always makes you her first priority.

She keeps tabs on you constantly. What’s your mood, why? She’ll talk to you in your mind when you’re anxious to calm you, and let you know that she’s there with you. She’s probably an anxious persons’ best friend. You don’t even have to talk, she knows what you mean and changes accordingly.

She is big on communication for sure. If you do something that bothers or hurts her feelings she will sit you down and talk to you about it. And she has this certain way of doing that doesn’t make you feel guilty. She’s just letting you know what she does and doesn’t like and won’t tell anyone else. These things are very private to her. And she expects you to do the same, and her feelings are never hurt by it.

Jean’s type of love is selfless. She would put herself in danger tenfold just to keep you safe. Mutant or not, she would be the one to baby you if you’re a part of the X-Men as well. There’s always a kind of bubble around you, that not many but you notice. Hence, people think you’re indestructible because you’re the only one who came back uninjured for the fourth time.

She wants to be independent, but also loves when you do stuff for her. She will never ask, but her heart warms so much when she sees you did something for her because you wanted too and not because she asked.

She plans your dream proposal. She is almost a roommate in your own mind, she knows what you like and don’t like.

Small extra blurb: imagine giving telepathic hints that you want a proposal. She thinks “Why are they broadcasting their ring si-ooooh. I see.”

She is so gentle with you, almost afraid that you’ll break and it’ll be all her fault. The way her hands gently caress you or how she holds your hand is so incredibly gentle.

#xmen #xmen x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #scott summers #scott summers x reader #Cyclops x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner x reader #jean grey #jean grey x reader #xmen headcanon #lumiwritings

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k00sblogger · 5 months

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Summary: When a movie night strikes up quite the interesting conversation, the night takes a turn that you definitely never expected.

Warnings: threesome, big dick jk, nipple play, pussy eating, dirty talk, detailed smut, sneaky behavior.

Pairing: Bsf!Jk x Fem!Reader x FemBsf!Mirae

A/n: put my own little spin on this request, hope the anon likes it.

🔗: m.list

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

"Hurry the movies starting!" mirae shouts as you and jungkook rush to finish packing the snacks into little bowls. Jungkooks continuous laughter makes you smile as you grab three sodas and rush them out to the living room.

Mirae let's out a content sigh when she sees you both, gesturing to the movie starting on the screen.

Mirae and jungkook had been your friends since freshman year of high school, and you'd basically grown up together. Seeing them turn from nerdy teens to full blown adults felt bizzare.

Just like high school, the three of you still spent all your time together. Some may say people your age should be in relationships by now, but it had just never worked out that way for any of you.

Jungkook had the same girlfriend for years, but she'd cheated on him the second they parted ways for college. After that he just never seemed to bat his eyes at a girl the same way again.

Mirae on the other hand was never one for relationships. Usually she moved around to whoever caught her eye and embraced her singleness. She was an amazing person regardless, anyone who had her would be a fool to ever let her go.

Surprisingly, she changed her ways the past year and a half. She hadn't talked to any guys, and she seemed happy with it.

Oh and you? You had a few boyfriends here and there, but your love life recently had been pretty dry. You were too caught up in work & friends to bother looking for someone to spend the rest of your life with.

You didn't really know how you felt about marriage anyway.

"Pass me the popcorn." Mirae whispers, reaching over jungkooks lap to take the bowl from you before you can even think of an answer. You don't mind, grabbing a nearby blanket and throwing it over the three of you.

The sound of popcorn being chewed is the only thing heard amongsts the three of you as the movie plays, all eyes trained on the screen.

Jungkook does his best to ignore the fact that both of you were pressed tight against him, sandwiched between the two of you as your breasts sit right against both of his arms. His pants do get a little tight, and though he didn't have a crush on either of you- he was still a man..

A man with needs to be specific. So having two girls tits pressed against him was a bit of a bummer when he may not be getting any pussy by the end of this.

You had to admit the movie was much better than you thought it'd be, and you cursed yourself for enjoying it because you knew jungkooks teasing would come soon after.

He'd suggested the movie to the both of you earlier that day, and though mirae was on board- you were not. Initially you weren't one for romance movies, and honestly you still weren't. This one just happened to be different, and you were starting to like it a little too much.

Being that it's a romance movie, it's not long before three naked bodies take place on the screen- moaning and kissing as sensually as possible. (Watching this always makes you wonder how awkward it must've been to film it.)

You could never be an actor, because you'd laugh in your co stars face if you had to fake having sex together.

"Y'know- having a threesome doesn't seem bad." mirae's statement causes you and jungkooks heads to snap toward her, watching in amusement as she shovels more popcorn into her greedy mouth.

"Really?" jungkook says, pinching the bridge of his nose at her words. She shrugs at both of us, gesturing toward the sexual scene on the tv with her hand. "You guys wouldn't be down?" she questions.

You think about it for a moment, your not exactly opposed to it. To be honest the longer you dwell upon it, the more it intrigues you- maybe it would be sort of fun?

"I think it'd be pretty cool." a cheesy smile flashes over miraes face at your confession, and she reaches over jungkook again so she can playfully nudge your shoulder. "That's my girl!"

Her sudden enthusiasm about the subject makes you laugh, and you can't stop a blush from spreading across your cheeks. "Jungkook? What do you think?"

You'd almost forgot that he was there, being that he'd been so quiet. Mirae didn't even need to ask the question, you could tell he was interested by the way he was still watching the three of them fuck on your tv screen.

"Helloooo, earth to jungkook?" you say, waving your hand in front of his face. He shakes his head when you do, almost as if he was snapping out of some trance. Mirae lifts a hand as she nods in content. "Nevermind- you've answered my question."

He gives a awkward laugh, adjusting his position on the couch to more of a slouch. "I'm down." he mutters, and the way he bites his lip afterward lets you know he's already thinking about it.

"Oh yeah? I think you'd be too scared." mirae counters, and you roll your eyes when jungkook gives her a shocked look. Clearly her little comment had gotten him riled up.

"Scared? Hell no." he scoffs, sitting up properly as he looks at you to back him up. You do nothing but shrug playfully, you weren't helping him out on this one- preferring to sit back and watch them bicker.

"You don't have the balls." mirae tests him even further, cocking her eyebrow at him as she continues to eat the last of the now cold popcorn.

"Try me." he mutters, and you can tell he's annoyed. Mirae had a way of getting to people, even you sometimes. She found it hilarious, jungkook on the other hand did not.

"Okay then, kiss y/n." the challenge makes you sit up straight, furrowing your brows at her. Well shit, you weren't disgusted at the thought- just surprised that she'd even suggest that.

Your heart beats a little faster when jungkooks turns to face you, and the look on his face was more determined than ever. Was he really gonna do it? Kiss you just to prove a point? No way.. it wasn't even that serious, just a stupid joke.

Clearly it was not, because two seconds he pulls you up and his lips are pressed flesh against yours. His hand keeps a nice hold on your cheek as he tugs a little at your lower lip before pushing his tongue into your mouth.

Oh.

This wasn't just a flimsy kiss, he was making out with you.. and you liked it. You didn't really understand what was happening and why the kiss kept on for so long, but fuck were you enjoying it.

Best believe his point was proven.

You enjoyed everything about it. The way his hands slid down your to your waist, and then to grip a handful of your ass. The way he kept pressing his body into yours. He was more than a good kisser, he was a fucking god at it.

Kisses peppering the back of your neck cause you to peel your eyes open, and that's when you realize it's mirae standing behind you. You can feel her clothed tits on your back as she does so, her soft hands hovering over jungkooks that still sit on your waist.

The realization of what's happening causes you to move your lips away from jungkooks, but he simply kisses you again before you can bother to utter a word.

You didn't know why, but the kisses from both of them convinced you to take off your shirt. Along with your pants, and then your panties, until you were completely naked for both of their eyes to see.

For a split second you wonder why mirae was so quick to join in and kiss on you as well, but you shake off the thought as quickly as it bubbles in your mind.

"Holy.." jungkook mutters, eyes concentrated on your full breasts. He takes it upon himself to bring his hands up to your chest, smiling as he cups your boobs in his warm hands. The feeling of your cold nipples against his palm made his dick even harder.

He's quick to undress himself after you, moving hastily to release his growing boner. Your eyes widen on their own at his length, all those times he boasted about his dick size clearly wasn't a joke.

"Surprised?" he asked, smirking at your reacting to the sight. You can hear mirae's hoarse laugh in your ears as she places her left hand on your shoulder, and her right hand at the base of jungkooks dick.

Her clothed chest is still pressed to your bare back, wanting to touch him but be close to you all at the same time. You liked the view you had, squished right in the middle of both of them as she reaches around you to jerk him off.

You don't realize how you've went to fondle your own clit, the sight so hot that you could no longer sit here untouched. Wetness leaks onto your thighs, making them all wet and sticky just how you loved it.

"For fucks sake..." he babbles to himself, groaning at the pressure of mirae's hand wrapped tight against his hard cock. Your finger's aggressively rubbing against your sensitive bud, already wanting to reach a orgasm even though this has only just started.

Jungkook notices and quickly takes action, grabbing a hold of your wrist to move it away from the area. "Patience." is all he says, and you oblige though the last thing you wanted was to wait.

Not when you were naked between the both of them like this.

You swore you weren't crushing on your friends, but it'd be a downright lie to say they were ugly- because they weren't. In fact, they were some of the hottest people you'd met.

You even used to have a crush on mirae in the 5th grade, but you'd never let her know that. It didn't matter anyway, you guys weren't even friends back then. Shit she barely even knew your name.

Mirae's roaming hands pull you out of your thoughts when you feel them on your waist, pulling you even closer to her as she sits down on the couch behind her.

Your bodies are warm and snug against each other as you lie between her thick thighs. She can't help but to slide her hands right under your breasts and grip them just to tease you.

It pulls a long moan out of you, leaning your head against her shoulder as she massages the tender blobs. Every few seconds she swipes her thumb over you nipple, aiming to get them nice and hard to her own liking. (Which she succeeds in.)

"Mm, she likes that." you feel mirae's breath on your ear, and you nod though she's speaking to jungkook and not you.

Your eyes flutter open and closed, realizing how much you enjoy being teased and played with ever so gently. Everytime your eyes open you can see jungkook massaging the length of him, his tip touching his happy trail from how hard he is.

He needed to be inside of you, immediately.

So he gets straight to it, leaning down to pull your hips to the very edge of the couch. Mirae understands what he's trying to do, and traces little shapes on the undersides of your thighs before pulling them up and out of his way.

"Needy?" he asks.

His voice makes you wanna cum all over him, and he hasn't even placed a finger on your cunt yet. You nod frantically, letting him know you want everything he has to give you.

Your cunts like a pretty piece of art, on display for both of their eyes to see. Mirae removes a hand from your thigh just to dip her fingers down there and get a feel for how wet you are.

She moans when she feels your slick stick to her fingers. "Pussy soaked isn't it?" she questions you in a teasing voice, bringing the wet hand back up to grip your thigh.

"Want me to eat you out? Huh?" jungkook asks, slapping his pre cum cover tipped on your swollen clit. "Please.." you beg, hips thrusting up everytime he pushes his tip against your clit.

He chuckles at your greediness, continuing to slide his length up and down your entire cunt. He and mirae both bite their lips, obsessed with the way your wetness begins to cover his dick- soaking it more everytime he slides against you.

"Looks like she's ready to fuck already." mirae declares, grabbing your chin with her thumb and index finger to get you to look up at her smirking face. "That what you want? Want him to fuck you?" she says, and you appease her by giving multiple quiet yes's.

She nods to jungkook as a gesture, letting go of your chin to hold your thighs again. Her right grip ensures your not going anywhere (not that you wanted to in the first place.)

That first little thrust inside gives you the confirmation this is exactly where you need to be, letting out a mewl at the pressure. Jungkook moves his tattooed hand to press against your lower belly, licking his lip at your reaction.

"Your squeezing the fuck out of me.. loosen up pretty." he was being so dirty, but somehow his words comforted you enough to make you stop gripping the living shit out of him.

He doesn't bother to give you a break, pushing the entirety of him inside of you with one go. He refused to waste any time, wanting your pussy wrapped around him as soon as possible.

"Feels so good.." you finally gather the courage to say a few words, and hearing you makes mirae smile. Her eyes are focused on the way your cunt swallows his length, proud of the way your taking it like a champ.

She can't resist and brings her hands to your breasts again, playing with your already sore nipples. The pressure of her fingers makes you squirm, but jungkooks quick to press his body closer to yours to make it harder for you to move.

He grinds his hips into you ever so passionately, not to rough- but it damn sure wasn't soft. You can hear the smack of his hips against yours very clearly over all the moaning going on, and it turns you on even more.

"Should've fucked you like this a long time ago." he mumbles, thrusting into you even harder. Your juices are leaking all over him, down your thighs and all over his cock.

Mirae takes the chance to sneak her hand between both of your bodies and down to your tender clit, massaging the bundle of nerves with just her pointer and middle finger.

"Fuck! Too much-" you whine, the feeling of jungkook inside you and mirae touching you like that was all overwhelming. Your whole body was tingling, even more in the lower region.

"You can take it, your so fucking pretty-" mirae's gentle voice coos near your ear, encouraging you to take it until the very end. Just until jungkook reaches his orgasms and cums deep inside of you.

Your breasts bounced up and down each time he pushes into you, free to move wherever they wanted without the confines of your bra.

Jungkook loves that shit, leaning down to take one of your nipples into his wet mouth. He groans around the bud, still thrusting into you as he swirls his tongue around the nipple before finally popping it out of his mouth.

"Gonna nut in you- give you my babies." he speaks mindlessly, not realizing what he's saying. Regardless he would, be cumming inside of you today- nothing would stop him from it.

And so he does, letting out a deep sigh as ropes of cum paint your walls. You reach your orgasm at the same time, and mirae even has to grab your wrists so you'll stop pushing jungkooks hips away from yours.

She wanted you to feel every ounce of pleasure.

When you finally calm down, jungkook pulls out of you and heads off to the bathroom to grab a towel.

Mirae gives you soft praise, sweeping your hair out of your face as you breathe heavily. You didn't put much thought into the fact these were your best friends that you just did this with, and you honestly didn't want to.

You enjoyed it, and so did they- that's all that mattered.

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A week passed, and you were utterly surprised that nothing had changed between your friend group. You all still talked every day, and even grew closer after the "situation."

Jungkook was at your place today matter of fact. He'd promised you days ago that he'd help you learn to cook his special pasta- & though he was a few days late, he kept his promise.

"This smells so good.." you say, taking a big inhale. Jungkok chuckles, stirring the alfredo sauce as he pours in a bit more cheese.

"Its almost done, patience." you nod, sitting down in the chair closest to the stove. He was so attractive while cooking, and you couldnt help but to stare at him as he moved around the kitchen.

This cooking lesson quickly turned from a lesson to a observation, but jungkook was okay with that. He was well aware that seeing that familiar smile on your face when eating his food was worth it even if he had to cook alone.

He rubs at his eyes as he switches the stove off, finally noticing your eyes on him when he turns to face you.

"What's wrong?" he asks, cocking his head as he walks up to your figure. The chair is tall enough for him to stand right between your thighs, face to face with you just how he liked it.

"Nothing, i just like looking at you." he grins at your corniness, your words making him feel all warm and happy inside.

He slides his cold hands up your thighs, a nice contrast to the warm air of the kitchen. "I want something." you whisper.

What a fucking tease, he thinks.

He was right obviously, you were being a tease. You added a little tinge of flirtiness to your voice in hopes that he'd get the hint. "Nope, No No No- the foods almost done."

Jungkook mentions, hurrying away from you in a fit of laughter before you can convince him to do anything. His reaction causes you to pout, hopping off of the chair and moving closer to him again.

"I didn't even do anything!" you protest, though you knew damn well what you wanted.

"I know what you want, your not getting it." he declares.

We'll see about that.

_________

Your empty plate sits to the side now as jungkook goes to work between your legs. His face is buried as far as possible into your cunt, nose nudging against your clit with every lick.

"Yes- just like that!" your voice is so needy, and it encourages him to press his tongue even farther into your hole. You prop a foot up onto the chair to give him more access, hand tangled in his fluffy hair to keep his head down there.

He looks up at your pleasured face for just a moment, pressing a gentle kiss against your belly and thigh before licking your folds again.

"Drippin' everywhere." he mutters, obsessed with the way your liquids leak down your thigh and cover his lips. You giggle at his commentary, butterflies growing in your tummy at his little dirty talk.

"Cmon, keep moaning for me- wanna hear it." he mumbles, and you can feel his lips on your pussy every time he utters w word. You like that though, obliging him and letting out quiet whimpers.

They weren't at all fake though, everything was a sincere reaction from the way he was eating your pussy like no tomorrow.

"I'm gonna cum!" right when you say that you feel his two slender fingers pushing into you- finger fucking you with no sign of stopping until you release.

"Cum on my fingers baby.. do it-" he's breathless from how he's had his face pressed between your thighs for the past ten minutes, eating you out as if his life depended on it.

He grunts when your cunt spasms around his fingers, cum leaking onto the chair as your orgasm washes over you. Your hips buck continuously, plastering a pleased smirk over jungkooks face.

"Come fuck me.." you say, still wishing for more even after you just came. You didn't care, you wanted him inside of you now- not later.

He nods, sitting up and quickly whipping his length out of sweats. You definitely notice that he's still soft, and even wonder if it was because of you.

Did eating you out not turn him on? You didn't know.

You watch quietly as he jerks himself off, trying to get himself hard on his own. Unfortunately it doesn't work, so you move to take his dick into your own hands.

You spend at least five minutes stroking him, and let out a disappointed sigh when he pulls your hands away from his dick. When he tucks himself back into his boxers, you take a hint and move away to slip your shirt back over your head.

"Y/n.." his voice trails off, and his face is more unreadable than ever. You shake your head, not wanting to get your feelings hurt by whatever he had to say.

You were sensitive, you could admit that. You'd rather go without an explanation than have him tell you to your face that you weren't turning him on.

(Though the way he was eating you out said different)

"It's just.. this doesn't feel right without mirae." he mutters, and your not sure what to say about that. Mirae happened to have work today, so she politely declined when you asked her to come over today as well.

Regardless neither of you were dating her, so why couldn't you do this without her? Yes, you all had a threesome- but you didn't think it was that serious.

"We're not dating.." you say with a little laugh, hoping to ease the awkwardness. To your demise, it only grows more awkward after you say that- jungkooks body language is a clear sign of how tense he felt.

"I think we should all have a talk." he says, sticking his hands into his pockets as he stares at you.

Well, you didn't know what that meant- but you sure didn't like the sound of it at all.

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TWO HOURS LATER:

Mirae had agreed to come over after work after jungkook texted her, and after a long two hours she was finally here. Both of them sit on the couch across from you, hands crossed as they sit there without a word.

Obviously you had to be the first one to speak, whatever.

"So?" you say, raising your eyebrows as you wait for them to say something. Clearly they had something to confess, and it didn't seem like anything good by the way jungkook sounded earlier.

"Uh-" mirae stops as soon as she starts- looking at jungkook for some sort of confirmation. It was annoying quite frankly- why couldn't they spit it out?

Jungkook shakes his head when he notices how you roll your eyes, and finally decides to speak up. "Me and mirae are dating, y/n."

What the fuck? That's the only think you can think, your jaw dropped almost to the floor. For one, you felt like shit because he was just giving you head earlier. And two, you felt stupid and betrayed for not knowing.

"Why didn't you tell me..?" you question, looking between both of them with a disappointed glare. They both let out a sigh at the same exact time, the coincidence would've made you laugh if your weren't so upset at the situation.

You weren't jealous, just angry. Angry that they hadn't told you this before.

"We...how do i say this.." mirae mumbles, twiddling her fingers as she try's her best to figure out how to word what she's trying to say.

"Spit it the fuck out." you say, finally cursing out of pure frustration. Usually, you weren't the kind of person to get angry and curse anyone out- but the way they were acting was forcing you to act that way.

Finally, jungkook says it.

"Fuck we want you in the relationship- We've been wanting it for a while now." the confession makes your heart drop to your ass. How were you supposed to feel about that?

How did they expect you to feel? Happy? No way.

"Since when?" is all you say, and they're silent for a moment before giving you a answer. "January, of last year." mirae replies.

Fuck that, it's september now. They've had over a year to tell you this bullshit.

Last weeks situation flashes through your mind. "So, last week. Was that a coincidence?" There's a defeaning silence, both of them quiet as they stare at the ground. Too pussy to look you in the face after an entire year of hiding this from you.

"We planned it." he finally admits, and you want to cry on the spot. You knew it was weird how mirae was so quick to join in, but you were just too in the moment to even question it.

You felt like a stupid pawn for their enjoyment, why couldn't they have just told you? Maybe they could've got a better reaction from you but this? This was no way to handle it.

"So you knew.. as soon as you got to my house what was going happen?" you ask, wanting to be sure that you heard this all right.

Your heart just sinks a little more when they both nod.

You begin to think about exactly what happened that day. The way mirae challenged jungkook to kiss you, the movie choice, the way she got behind you so quickly.

They'd planned it all.

"Can you go?" you say, trying to blink back the tears building in your eyes. Maybe you were being dramatic, or maybe not- but you just felt more betrayed than ever.

"Y/n.." mirae says, her voice trailing off. You can tell she's saddened, but she had no right to be. Not after what they did.

"Just get out of my house." you say, and though they don't want to- they respect your wishes. It doesn't take them long to gather their things and leave, the door slamming behind them.

As soon as they're gone you break down into tears, not wanting to believe what they'd just told you.

You knew you'd have to have a real conversation with them about this later on, but today- they weren't getting that out of you.

(requested by anon)

#bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook #bts jungkook

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thephantomsdream · 3 months

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Simon "Ghost" Riley that likes to be pampered, to be taken care of and let me tell you, he's just so not used to it. He's never had anyone to really treat him anything close to good.

In all honesty, he genuinely thought it was fine, being alone. He's a solitary creature, as life taught him to be, and deep down he convinced himself it was best. It didn't matter if there was a small, minuscule, pained tug at his heart every time he thought about it.

What he didn't expect was to be whipped immediately, one glance into your eyes and he was a goner. It went against his reasoning, this instinct of his to have you, battling everything he's been trying to avoid at all costs. But that one glance, that small smile you gave him, and he just knew. And months of tedious yet slow opening up and trying not only for you, but for himself, Simon was yours somehow. Baffling as it was, he now had someone to go home to. A sweet angel that in no time he plans to up and move into that bare house he has and take care of. Only thing is, the man did not expect to be taken care of himself, as if he forgot that was an option.

The first few times you two dated, officially, as he had to clarify this wasn't what kids these days mean by "hanging out" or "talking to" or whatever the fuck Johnny and Kyle were babbling to him about their dating lives (it's dating or not, Simon likes things clear), the man was surprised by how sweet yet determined you were. "Can I hold your hand?" You asked him a little flustered, and this big boy almost stuttered. He found himself nodding while gulping before taking your hand in his, internally beating himself up for acting like such a... boy? Having a silly crush on a lovely sweetheart that made him nervous by just exiting around him.

God, it felt fantastic when he finally got to kiss you. Simon thought it was gonna be just a kiss, big fucking deal (he was trying to cope, his hands were sweaty but whatever, big deal), but the way you sighed and melted into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck made him shudder. It ignited something in him and his heart tugged again, this time not painful but hopeful.

It was the way you touched his scarred face that really astonished him, especially the first night you spent in his house. Whatever movie you babbled about the last date, vampires or whatever, was now playing on his flat screen on the new profile he created for you on whatever streaming service Simon just bought just to watch it. Another tiny bit of you in his life, it seemed. Movie was fucking awful, truly, fucking dumb teenagers and vampires, but whatever, your boyfriend (bloody fucking hell it felt fantastic and scary to think that he's now yours officially) was determined to watch it even if he snorted and made fun of it every three seconds, yet having you giggle by his side made his cold heart warm up as it beat a thousand times per second. Once again, he found himself about to mock something jokingly when he turned to you, finding your beautiful eyes already on him, expression warm and relaxed.

"Come here." At that moment, Simon Riley realized he'd follow anything you'd order him, as his body moved without any thoughts, just closer to you. Like a stray dog that's learning what a home is, something he's never really had, and when your lips touched his cheek while caressing the other, the world slowed down.

Having you move closer to him, placing a leg over his, smiling at him sweetly while gently kissing the scar near his lower lip, all he could do was stare dumbly as his face felt on fire. Little did he know that his pale cheeks reddened so adorably that you started to giggle. God, he fucking loved that sound.

"Lay on me, c'mon." You ordered gently again, grabbing his calloused hands to tug him onto you as you laid down on your back. Simon knew he looked like an idiot in awe, very much aware he's always had a staring problem. But as he crawled gently over you, expecting you to push him off after abruptly changing your mind, all he could do was to look down into your cleavage and stare like a muppet. " 'S aight?" Being all he asked before hearing a nice hum, approval for him to lay on you.

That day, Simon learned what heaven is. Your fingers into his hair, slowly, gently playing with his dirty blond locks, his face in your soft tits, your voice oh-so clear as he pressed his ear into your torso, the slow rumble almost putting him to sleep while his eyes were focused on the silly movie. His arms were wrapped around you while he just laid down between your legs. His dumb jokes still delivered as he muffled them out lazily, getting you to laugh and make him smirk as you(r tits) jiggled under him, and his reward, because you're a fucking angel, of course, was a sweet kiss on his temple every single time. The man could be turning into a clown by the end of the night as long as you kissed him so tenderly.

You spoiled him too. How dare you, really? Bringing him sweets, asking him what he wants to eat, adjusting your schedule to fit his (man's off duty, he can camp outside your house and come in whenever you want him to, if you'd be willing, like a good obedient dog), just making him feel wanted. It was odd. And new. And addicting.

You cared. You cared for him. And in his wonky yet honest way, he cared too. Always making sure that you know he's somehow thinking of you. He wanted to try. He wanted to make sure you'll stick around. The military has taught this man a lot of things, and apart from his head-strong conviction that he indeed can do anything if he puts his mind to it, another was how to not fuck up something good, all through the hundreds of stories from many other soldiers about failed relationships. He knows all the perspectives, all the failures, all the erros and all the aftermaths, so he learned to listen and not blame, to pay attention, to be there even if he was half a world away. Simon is determined to keep you around, coming back to you battered, wounded, traumatized, exhausted, and is greeted with his angel, all ready to pick him up, wrap him in a warm blanket and fuss over his ass. He'd roll his eyes at you, but his emerging smile said it all.

His heart now tugs when he's about to pick his luggage, a duffle bag filled with essentials and nothing more. A week earlier than expected too, relief washing over his body like never before, knowing you're at home waiting for good news. And he's heading that way too, determined, unrelenting, head first, no thoughts. He's going home to you.

Home to warm, delicious food, instead of stale and plain. Home to sweet laughter and love, instead of orders barked and indifference. Home to his, your comfortable bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, the plump delicious curves of your body pressed against his hardened one. Home to gentle, home to calm, home to soft, home to himself, home to everything. Home to his heart, that is tugging him closer and closer, where he left it with you.

I'm just gonna dump this here and leave. Not proofread because we're old and lazy here.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #reader is fat in my mind #reader is always fat #simon ghost riley x fat reader #simon ghost riley x plus size reader #i really like to make simon sound like a dog #maybe next time he straight up wears the collar and barks lmfao #but really tho? maybe

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bomber-grl · 11 months

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Mike Schmidt relationship headcannons !

Pairing(s): Mike Schmidt x Gn!Reader

Note! Has some plot | This is my relationship headcannons for movie Mike, stating this because I just might make video game Michael Afton headcannons aswell in the near future

Very closed off and not looking for a relationship

He had hired you to take care of Abby when he was away and that’s how you two began getting closer.

Not the best conversation starter, however when you gave him the opportunity to speak about the dream theory he starts going on about it.

Then he apologizes and begins feeling a bit unsure and awkward.

It never really advanced from there and he’d almost constantly apologize and reassure that he’d pay you soon, but you never really cared for it.

Really peaked his interest when he realized that Abby had really grown to like you and began inviting you to do things with the both of them.

You, of course accepted and eventually Mike had started developing feelings for you.

Just as you did for him.

He didnt act on them at first.

Primarily Because he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, especially not with someone like you with him.

You were amazing, and he was a sad grown man who had to care for his little sister, and not even in a way he saw proper.

So of course he shuts it down, telling himself it’d be better off that way.

However, some way, somehow you got involved with Freddy’s pizzeria and you not only managed to save him but also Abby.

Then from there it just went uphill.

He got a better job, better pay, and is able to connect with Abby easier.

Not only that but the custody battle has been leaning in his favor.

He had no one to thank but you.

You’d take Abby to school, occasionally cook for them, and you were always reliable.

One fateful evening you and Mike were just hanging out in the living room.

Talking and just watching whatever was on TV.

Then he brought up your relationship, and stated that he’d really like to start one with you, a romantic one, that is.

You of course, said yes, and he was relieved and happy at your reaction.

But then Abby came to mind, what would she think?

You asked him this almost immediately.

But he reassured and said that the final push was actually when Abby hinted/teased her older brother about your potential relationship, then ran off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and an awkward atmosphere hung in the air but then Mike went to hold you hand and it made it semi better.

The next morning you almost immediately told Abby and she was so happy.

Which really relieved the both of you.

Things had changed, albeit subtly.

And although Mike wasn’t the most physically affectionate, probably due to him being pretty much touched starved and traumatized.

He tried his best to convey his affection towards you with teasing and joking around.

You’d often just enjoy the others company and bond mostly with Abby around.

If you were to ever do something even a little bit flirty around her she’d immediately be grossed out.

Which was funny, and was mentally noted to ever do again in her presence, even if it was just a kid friendly comment.

Your guy’s first kiss was pretty intimate

I mean Mike had never seemed much interested in kissing or doing anything further down the road.

However, after a particularly draining day, and horrible weather outside, Mike had offered you to stay for the night.

Abby was so excited and the three of you played with her just a little bit over her curfew then sent her off to bed.

When you were finally able to be alone, Mike, very awkwardly and a bit bashful, offered for you to sleep in his bed.

You, like the amazing person you were, rejected and said that it was fine and that he should just sleep there.

Not completely understanding that Mike didn’t mean separate, but together.

Once he bashfully explains that all you can do is mutter out an “oh” and go along with it.

Pretty awkward as you both just lay down as stiff as rods in silence.

Then you guys begin talking.

And it’s just you two talking about whatever at like 2 a.m, trying your best to keep it down.

If you decide to be bold and make a move by asking if you could cuddle with him, then he’d hesitantly agree.

Again, not because he hates you, but because he’s an awkward guy.

So once you’re settled in each others arms you start talking about each others traumas and mostly hidden things.

It’s the sleep deprivation getting to you guys.

Well once you’re both finished venting and just being vulnerable you decide to make a move and lean forward, giving him plenty of time to move if it’s not wanted.

But he didn’t, and the clash of your lips followed soon after and how drawed out it was won’t be mentioned by either of you either.

Things not only start changing and he’s side hugging you more (publicly)

Although not really into pda

And be more affectionate (as he can)

I’m sure at one point you get so comfortable with one another that although awkward moments occur, most of them spent together is just you saying cringe stuff and making him regret ever making it out alive of Freddy’s.

From then on, not only do you tease and get a worthwhile reaction but he’s always hugging and giving you cheek kisses in private.

He’s also grown fond of cuddling, just because of how close he gets to be to you.

If you were to ever tell him he’s hot.

He’d get really taken back but then laughs it off and says whatever.

(Saying this because I know those fans of him exist 😭)

Honestly it’s kind of hard for you to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not😔

He’s always making snarky and joking remarks and hard to tell when he’s just being his sassy self.

Honestly home dude is just trying his best and his relationship with you really lightened up his life even more.

Note! Should I make a pt 2 with Mike as your husband?

#gn reader #female reader #male reader #fanfic #fluff #fanfic fluff #fnaf micheal #fnaf mike #fnaf movie #fnaf fanfic #fnaf fandom #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #five nights at freddy's #relationship headcanons #fnaf #sassy man apocalypse

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wannabehockeygf · 1 month

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greedy - quinn hughes

“He said ‘I’m just curious, is this for real or just an act?’

Can’t tell if you love or hate me,

Never met someone like that.”

summary: when you’re a bartender in a popular local club, the captain of the canucks who’s also one of your regulars takes a liking to you

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 9.3k. i’m so sorry.

warnings: 18+ NSFW! fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, slight degradation.

notes:

- this is soooo different for me! have never written about a hughes brother before even though they’re super popular here.

- missing vancouver hockey. sorry leafs nation.

- also this is probably some of the nastiest smut i’ve ever written!

- not proof read

- the eye colour thing again… sorry if they’re green.

***

Friday nights at The Roxy Cabaret were like trying to squeeze into your favorite pair of jeans after Thanksgiving dinner—uncomfortable, chaotic, and leaving you questioning your life choices. Honestly, it felt like the entire population of Vancouver had made a pact to invade this dingy club all at once. Not that you were complaining, though—well, maybe a little. It wasn’t like you had a choice; the rent wasn’t going to pay itself.

Sure, you worked there, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hold a deep, burning, soul-crushing hatred for the place, right? Well, okay, maybe "hatred" was a bit strong. You did occasionally wander in on your nights off, blend into the crowd, and pretend you were just another twenty-three-year-old who didn’t have to worry about the bartender recognizing you. Because let’s face it, you needed a break from serving vodka sodas to tipsy twenty-somethings trying to relive their high school glory days.

What really got under your skin, though, was the crowd that showed up when you were on the clock. And by "crowd," you meant the entire Vancouver Canucks roster, who seemed to think The Roxy was their personal post-victory playground. It wasn’t that you disliked hockey—you were indifferent to it, like you were to a distant relative’s Facebook posts. If it was on, fine, you’d watch. But you weren’t exactly lining up to buy season tickets.

Most of the guys were fine—great even. Some of them were downright charming, the kind of guys you wouldn’t mind chatting with when things slowed down. Plus, they tipped like they were trying to make it rain dollar bills in a music video, which you appreciated. But then there was Quinn Hughes.

Oh, Quinn. Captain Smug himself. He had a way of getting under your skin like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

"Another round, please, Princess," Quinn drawls, tapping his fingers on the bar like he owns the place.

You grit your teeth, mentally counting to ten as you shake up a cocktail. "Can you get Brock to order it? He isn’t an egotistical asshole."

Quinn just laughs, that infuriating smirk of his widening even though he looks like he could use a nap. "Aw, come on, Princess, don’t be like that. You know you love me."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. Instead, you stick to your customer service script. "That’s not my name," you say, yanking out shot glasses like they owe you money.

"I know," Quinn says, brushing a strand of hair out of his face like he’s in some cheesy romance movie. "But you act like a princess, so it suits you."

Oh great, now your jaw’s tightening. Fabulous. You grab the tequila bottle with a little more force than necessary. "What do you want from me, Quinn?" you ask, trying not to let your annoyance seep too much into your voice.

He leans in closer, his smirk practically reaching his ears. "How about a smile, Princess? Is that too much to ask?"

You force the kind of smile you reserve for customer service nightmares, tight-lipped and entirely devoid of warmth. "Is that good? Can you go now?"

Quinn chuckles, taking the tray of drinks from you like he’s doing you a favor. "Always so feisty. But I like it. Keeps things interesting."

"Fuck off, Quinn," you mutter, wiping down the counter with the enthusiasm of someone scrubbing a crime scene. "I’m not here to entertain your ego."

He leans in even closer—so close you can practically count the flecks of mischief in his eyes. "But you do entertain me. Every time you brush me off, it just makes me want you more."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "You’ve got a funny way of showing it. Just because you’re some big-shot athlete doesn’t mean you can treat women however you want."

Quinn’s gaze slowly trails up from your lips, where it’s been lingering far too long, to meet your eyes. "Ah, come on, you know I always take good care of you."

And damn it, he’s right. Quinn is probably your biggest tipper out of the entire team. And while you like the money, you hate seeing his stupid messy brown hair and annoyingly pretty blue eyes at your bar every time they win.

"Sure you do," you say, swiping someone else’s card through the machine, mentally willing him to disappear into the sea of other customers.

You watch Quinn walk away, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowd like he’s parting the Red Sea. It’s infuriating, really, how someone so damn annoying can also be so… well, hot. There, you admitted it. The guy is hot. Like, "should come with a warning label" hot. But that doesn’t mean you’re about to give him the satisfaction of knowing you think that. No way. Not in this lifetime, or the next, or even if you were reincarnated as a particularly enthusiastic poodle.

Quinn Hughes is the human equivalent of a pop-up ad—persistent, unwanted, and impossible to get rid of without a lot of cursing. Every time you brush him off, he just comes back stronger, like he’s powered by your irritation. And maybe that’s what’s so maddening about him. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, and he enjoys every second of it.

The problem is, you’re starting to wonder if you enjoy it too.

Nope. Not going there. You are not going to be one of those girls who gets all flustered over a guy just because he’s got a good smile and a credit card that could probably buy out half the bar. You’re stronger than that. You’re resilient. You’re… currently mixing a drink with far more focus than necessary because all you can think about is what it would be like to grab him by the collar of that too-tight shirt and kiss that stupid smirk right off his face.

You’re shaking your head at the absurdity of it all as you pour the next round of shots, hands moving on autopilot. It’s bad enough that Quinn Hughes has invaded your workspace like some kind of hockey-playing parasite, but now he’s wormed his way into your thoughts too.

“Get a grip,” you mutter under your breath, lining up the glasses like they’re little soldiers marching to their doom. Because really, that’s what this is—a battle of wills. A tug-of-war where the prize is your sanity, and you’re losing.

A couple of your regulars wave you over, and you force your focus back to them, slapping on that customer service smile that’s become second nature by now. They’re nice guys, the kind who tip decently and don’t try to flirt with you in that obnoxious, entitled way that some customers do. They’re also blissfully ignorant of the 5’10, 180 pound storm cloud currently hovering over your head, which is exactly how you like it.

But just as you’re starting to enjoy a break from the chaos, you catch sight of him again. He’s leaning against the bar a few feet away, talking to Brock, who seems completely unfazed by the fact that Quinn has probably just sent your blood pressure through the roof.

You steal a glance at Quinn, hoping he won’t notice, but of course he does. He always does. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, you forget how to breathe. It’s ridiculous, really. The guy’s just standing there, doing absolutely nothing, and yet he has this stupid effect on you. Like he’s some kind of gravitational force, pulling you in against your will.

You force yourself to look away, focusing on the drink in front of you like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. But it’s too late. The damage is done. Your brain has already gone down that treacherous path, imagining what it would be like if you gave in just once.

But that’s a dangerous game, and you know it. Because if you give him an inch, he’ll take a mile. Hell, he’ll probably take the whole damn kilometer. And then where would you be?

Nope. Not happening. Not tonight, not ever.

You’re not sure when exactly it started—the whole Quinn Hughes thing, that is. Maybe it was the first time he sauntered up to the bar, eyes twinkling like he knew something you didn’t. Or maybe it was the time he tipped you a hundred bucks just for bringing him a water, like he was trying to buy your affection. Which, spoiler alert, didn’t work. Or so you’ve been telling yourself.

But you can’t deny it any longer: Quinn Hughes is a problem. A major, five-alarm, get-the-fire-extinguisher kind of problem. Because somewhere along the line, your irritation with him has twisted into something… different. Something dangerous. Something that makes you wonder what it would be like to grab him by that annoyingly perfect jawline and just—

“Hey, Princess, you gonna make me another drink or just stand there daydreaming?”

And there it is. That voice, like smooth whiskey poured over gravel, cutting through your thoughts like a knife. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s him. Of course it’s him. Because Quinn Hughes has a sixth sense for when you’re starting to get a grip on your sanity, and he’s hell-bent on ruining it.

You set down the bottle of vodka you’ve been holding, turning to face him with what you hope is a look of mild disinterest. “Back so soon? Didn’t think you could tear yourself away from your adoring fans.”

Quinn grins, leaning against the bar like he’s got all the time in the world. And maybe he does. After all, what’s a Friday night without irritating the bartender who’s secretly trying to figure out what color your eyes really are because the lighting in here sucks? Not that you’d ever admit to that. “I just couldn’t stay away from you, Princess. You know how it is.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted at best. “Again, not my name.”

He taps his fingers on the bar, a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic. “I know. But I like it. It suits you.”

“What, because I won’t roll over and worship the ground you walk on?” you shoot back, crossing your arms. You know you’re playing with fire, but there’s something addictive about sparring with him. Like a game of chicken, except you’re both too stubborn to swerve.

Quinn’s grin widens, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. Damn him. “Exactly. I like a girl with a backbone.”

You open your mouth to retort, but the words get stuck somewhere between your brain and your tongue. Because for some reason, all you can think about is the way he’s looking at you right now—like you’re the only person in this crowded, chaotic club that matters.

So that’s why you decide to go for it.

“You ever had hate sex, Hughes?”

You can almost see the gears in Quinn’s head grind to a halt at your question. The usual smug smirk falters for a split second, and it’s the most satisfying thing you’ve seen all night. You’ve finally done it—left Quinn Hughes speechless. But the victory is short-lived because, as always, he recovers faster than you can blink.

“Hate sex?” he echoes, his voice dropping an octave, making you question all of your life choices up to this point. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear, and you suddenly realize you’re standing way too close. “Princess, if that’s your idea of a pick-up line, I’ve got to say, I’m intrigued.”

And there it is, that damn smirk back in full force. He’s trying to throw you off, but you refuse to back down. You’ve already started this ridiculous game, so there’s no turning back now.

“You didn’t answer the question,” you reply, your tone as steady as you can make it. “Ever had hate sex?”

He lets out a low chuckle that sends shivers down your spine—not that you’d ever admit it. “I don’t know. Guess we’d have to define ‘hate sex’ first.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your mind racing with all the ways this could go horribly wrong. But damn it, you’re committed now. “I’m pretty sure it’s when you can’t stand someone, but you still want to rip their clothes off.”

Quinn’s eyes darken just a fraction, and you can feel the tension between you both ratchet up to an unbearable level. It’s like the entire club fades away, leaving just the two of you locked in this absurd, heated standoff.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his voice smooth and infuriatingly calm. “You want to rip my clothes off, Princess?”

You clench your jaw, determined not to let him see how flustered you are. This is Quinn Hughes, the guy who drives you up the wall every single time he walks into this bar. There’s no way in hell you’re about to let him get the upper hand.

So, you do the only thing that seems appropriate. You lean in, so close that your lips are almost brushing his ear, and whisper, “Maybe I just want to shut you up for five minutes.”

“You think you could handle it?” His voice is a low rumble now, and there’s something about the way he says it that’s got your stomach doing somersaults. “Because if we’re going there, I don’t do anything halfway.”

Oh, for the love of— You’re pretty sure your face is betraying you right now, showing just how much his words have affected you, but you can’t let him know that.

Quinn is still watching you, eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place. There’s a challenge there, a dare hanging in the air between you, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is. Too close. Close enough that you can see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his hair falls messily over his forehead, and those damn blue eyes that seem to see right through your carefully constructed defenses.

For a moment, you consider backing down, playing it off as a joke. But then Quinn would win, and that’s simply not an option. So, you double down, leaning in just a little bit closer, your breath brushing against his skin.

"Handle it? Quinn, I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to." Your voice is steady, but inside, your heart is doing its best impression of a drum solo. This is insane. You’re flirting with Quinn Hughes. Quinn Hughes, the guy who spends his Friday nights at your bar making your life just a little bit more complicated than it needs to be. The guy who seems to take an unholy amount of pleasure in riling you up. The guy who—God help you—makes your pulse race every time he so much as glances in your direction.

Quinn’s lips curve into a slow smile, and you can’t help but notice how annoyingly perfect his teeth are. Of course they are. Everything about him is infuriatingly perfect, from his tousled hair to his broad shoulders that you really shouldn’t be noticing right now. "You’ve got a mouth on you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine that you desperately try to suppress.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure as you stare into Quinn’s infuriatingly perfect face. Seriously, who gave him the right to look this good, especially when he’s being such a smug asshole? You remind yourself that you don’t like him. You don’t. Except maybe you do, a little bit. Okay, a lot. But that’s beside the point.

Quinn’s eyes are locked on yours, and you can practically feel the heat radiating off him. It’s like standing too close to a bonfire—one wrong move, and you’re going to get burned. But damn it, you’re not backing down. Not when he’s looking at you like that, like he’s just waiting for you to slip up so he can swoop in and… do what, exactly? You’re not even sure anymore. And that’s the most dangerous part.

“Someone’s gotta put you in your place, Hughes,” you manage to say, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intended. You’re aiming for sassy, but it’s hard to pull off when your heart is practically doing backflips in your chest.

His smile widens, and you want to slap it right off his face, but also—God help you—maybe kiss it off too. “Is that so?” he asks, voice dripping with amusement. “And you think you’re the one to do it?”

Oh, he’s good. He’s really good. And damn it, you walked right into his trap, didn’t you? Because now you’ve got to follow through, or else he’s going to lord this over you for the rest of eternity.

But before you can figure out a clever retort, Quinn’s gaze flicks past you, scanning the crowded bar. When he looks back at you, there’s something new in his eyes—something that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“You know,” he says, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “this place is a little too crowded for what I have in mind.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. He’s not suggesting what you think he’s suggesting, is he? Because if he is, you’re in way over your head. And yet… there’s a tiny, traitorous part of you that’s intrigued. More than intrigued. You want to know what he has in mind, even though every logical part of your brain is screaming at you to abort mission and run for the hills.

You tilt your head, trying to play it cool even as your heart races. “And what exactly do you have in mind, Hughes?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn leans in closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek. “Somewhere private,” he murmurs, “Where we can… talk.”

“Talk,” you repeat, your tone dripping with skepticism. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

He chuckles softly, and the sound sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

Oh, you do. You’ve got a lot of ideas, most of them involving doing things to Quinn Hughes that would definitely not fall under the category of “talking.” But you can’t just give in, can you? That would be too easy, and Quinn would never let you live it down.

But then again… maybe it’s time to stop overthinking things. Maybe it’s time to let go, just this once, and see where this crazy, ridiculous, probably-terrible idea takes you.

“Fine,” you say, surprising yourself with how steady your voice sounds. “Let’s go.”

Quinn’s eyes light up with something that looks a lot like victory, but you’re not about to let him have the upper hand. Not entirely, anyway.

“Lead the way, Princess,” he says, his voice a low purr that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

You roll your eyes—because of course you do—but there’s no denying the excitement buzzing just beneath the surface. You’ve got no idea what you’re getting yourself into, but one thing’s for sure: it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

With one last glance at the bar, you turn on your heel and start making your way through the crowd, Quinn hot on your heels. You can feel the tension between you both, crackling like static electricity, and it’s taking everything in you not to turn around and grab him by that stupidly perfect jawline right then and there.

You slip through a side door that leads to a narrow hallway, the noise from the bar muffled by the heavy walls. The air is cooler here, the dim lighting casting long shadows that dance along the worn carpet. You can feel Quinn’s presence behind you, close enough that you can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Where are we going?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that makes your stomach flip.

“Storage closet,” you say, not even sure where the idea came from, but it’s out now, and there’s no taking it back. You know the staff keeps some of the extra supplies in a small room down the hall, and it’s as good a place as any to… well, whatever this is.

Quinn’s chuckle is dark and throaty, sending another shiver down your spine. “Kinky,” he murmurs, but you can hear the approval in his tone.

You reach the door and push it open, revealing a small, dimly lit room lined with shelves full of bottles and boxes. It’s cramped, barely enough room for the two of you, but that’s probably a good thing. The last thing you need is space to think about what you’re doing, because if you stop to think, you might just lose your nerve.

Quinn steps in behind you, closing the door with a soft click. The sound echoes in the quiet space, amplifying the tension that’s been simmering between you both all night.

For a moment, neither of you moves. You just stand there, staring at each other, the air thick with unspoken challenges and barely restrained desire. And then, like a rubber band snapping, the tension breaks.

You’re not even sure who moves first—maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you—but suddenly you’re pressed up against the shelves, Quinn’s body crowding into yours, his hands bracing on either side of your head as his lips crash onto yours

It’s not gentle. It’s not soft. It’s every bit as intense and heated as the tension that’s been simmering between you from the moment you met. His lips crash against yours with a force that sends your head spinning, and for a moment, all you can do is cling to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you kiss him back just as fiercely.

This is no sweet, romantic moment. This is raw, unfiltered desire, born from all the frustration and irritation that’s been building between you two for so long. It’s everything you never thought you’d want, and yet here you are, giving in to it completely.

Quinn’s hands are on you now, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. And maybe he can’t. Maybe you can’t either. All you know is that this is happening, and there’s no stopping it.

“Damn it, Hughes,” you murmur against his mouth, trying to inject some venom into your words, but it comes out more like a plea. You can feel his smirk, the arrogant bastard. He knows he’s got you, and it only makes you want to kiss him harder.

Or punch him.

Maybe both.

“Problem?” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. His lips are slightly swollen, his hair disheveled from your hands, and he looks annoyingly good like this. All messy and untamed, like you’ve undone him somehow, when you know it’s the other way around.

You want to tell him to shut up, to stop looking at you like that, like you’re some puzzle he’s close to solving. But you’re too breathless, too overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. So instead, you grab the front of his shirt and yank him back down to you, your lips crashing together again in a bruising kiss.

He groans into your mouth, his hands slipping under your shirt, fingers skimming the heated skin of your back. You shiver at the contact, hating how good it feels, hating that he knows it too. You can feel his smugness in every touch, every shift of his body against yours.

And yet, you don’t stop him.

Because you’re just as guilty.

You’ve been wanting this—wanting him—even though you’ve been denying it, pushing it away, convincing yourself that you despise him. But the truth is, that hatred has always been laced with something else. Something darker, more dangerous. Something you’re only now beginning to understand.

It’s infuriating.

It’s intoxicating.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mutter against his lips, your voice tinged with frustration as you nip at his lower lip. You want to hurt him, just a little, to remind yourself that you’re still in control, that this isn’t just him getting what he wants. But when he groans in response, his hands tightening their grip on your hips, you realize that maybe you’re not as in control as you thought.

“You say that like you don’t love it,” he replies, his voice husky as he trails kisses along your jawline, down to your neck. Your breath hitches when he finds that sensitive spot just below your ear, the one that makes your knees go weak. He’s too good at this. Too good at getting under your skin.

You don’t want to enjoy this. You really don’t. But your body isn’t exactly cooperating, and the traitorous warmth pooling in your stomach isn’t something you can ignore. It’s maddening how much you want this, even as every logical part of your brain screams that this is a terrible, horrible, no-good idea.

But logic be damned, because the way Quinn’s lips are moving against your skin is making it very hard to care about consequences.

“You’re such a smug bastard,” you mutter, trying to inject some bite into your words, but they come out breathy, almost like a sigh. Ugh. Could you be any more pathetic?

Quinn chuckles against your neck, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I thought you liked that about me,” he murmurs, his voice thick. His hands slide up under your shirt, fingers skimming over your ribs, making you gasp. “Or at least, you like it enough to let me do this.”

He’s right, and that just pisses you off even more. You do like it—hate it, love it, whatever it is, you’re feeling it with every nerve in your body. You can feel his smirk against your skin, and it only fuels the fire inside you.

You yank at his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can meet his eyes, which are dark and stormy with desire. “Don’t get cocky, Hughes,” you warn, even though you know it’s a losing battle. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

He raises an eyebrow, that damn smirk still plastered on his stupidly perfect face. “You keep telling yourself that,” he says, his voice low and rough. “But we both know you’re full of shit.”

“Full of shit?” you echo, narrowing your eyes at him, trying to keep your wits about you even as his hands roam over your body. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who’s all talk and no—”

Quinn’s lips are on yours again before you can finish the sentence, cutting off your words with a kiss that’s somehow even more intense than the last one. It’s like he’s determined to prove you wrong, to make you eat your words, and as much as you hate to admit it, he’s succeeding.

But you’re not about to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that. Not yet, anyway.

You push back against him, shoving at his chest just enough to create some distance, even though your body is screaming at you to do the opposite. His eyes flash with surprise, and you smirk up at him, a little breathless but still in the game.

“Easy there, Hughes,” you murmur, your voice laced with false bravado. “I didn’t say you could take control.”

Quinn arches an eyebrow, his lips quirking up into that infuriatingly smug smile that makes you want to both slap him and drag him closer. “Oh? I must have missed the memo where you were the one calling the shots.”

You grit your teeth, not entirely sure whether you want to punch him or kiss him again. Maybe both, but that would just be giving him the upper hand. Instead, you decide to hit him where it hurts—his ego.

“Please,” you scoff, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you speak. “You’ve been in my palm since the moment we met. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He lets out a low, amused chuckle, his breath warm against your neck. “Is that what you tell yourself when you’re fantasizing about me at night?”

Your stomach flips at his words, but you refuse to let him see the effect he’s having on you. Instead, you tilt your head, letting your lips ghost over the shell of his ear as you whisper, “In your dreams, Hughes.”

But as much as you’re trying to play it cool, you can’t deny the electric tension between you both. It’s like the air is crackling with it, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. All you can focus on is Quinn—his hands, his lips, his damn voice that keeps pulling you deeper into this mess.

His hand slides down your side, settling on your hip, and your breath catches when he pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together in the cramped space. You can feel every inch of him, the solid warmth of his body, the way he’s holding you like he doesn’t want to let go. And maybe he doesn’t. Maybe you don’t either.

Quinn’s lips are back on yours, but this time, it’s slower, more deliberate. Like he’s savoring the moment, taking his time, driving you absolutely crazy with how good it feels. You’re so wrapped up in it, in him, that you almost don’t notice the way his hands are working on rolling up your shirt until it’s halfway up.

You pull back, just enough to look up at him with narrowed eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He gives you a look that’s all innocence, but there’s nothing innocent about the way his hands keep moving, sliding under your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin. “Just making sure you’re comfortable,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Comfortable?” you repeat, your voice coming out a little higher than you intended as his hands roam over your bare skin. “You think this is making me comfortable?”

Quinn leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “No, but it’s making you hot, isn’t it?”

Your breath hitches, and damn him, he’s right. He’s so infuriatingly right. But you’re not about to admit that. Instead, you try to muster up some semblance of defiance, even though you can feel your resolve crumbling with every touch, every heated look he throws your way.

“You wish,” you manage to say, but the words lack the venom you were aiming for. Instead, they come out breathy, almost like a plea, and you hate how much that turns you on.

Quinn grins, and it’s a wicked, knowing grin that makes your stomach twist in the most deliciously infuriating way. “I don’t have to wish,” he says, his voice a low rumble that makes your knees weak. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Before you can respond—before you can even think of a comeback—he’s kissing you again, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that makes your head spin. You’re drowning in him, in the heat, the intensity of it all, and for a moment, you wonder if you’re going to lose yourself completely.

But then Quinn’s hands are on your hips, lifting you up onto the shelves, and you gasp at the sudden movement. You grab onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin as he steps between your legs, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes it hard to remember why this is such a bad idea.

“Quinn,” you murmur, trying to sound like you’re in control, like you’re not about to fall apart at the seams. But your voice betrays you, coming out shaky, uncertain, and Quinn hears it. Of course he does.

His hands slide up your thighs, fingers teasing the edge of your shorts, and you can’t help the way your breath hitches, the way your body arches toward him, desperate for more. Damn it, you shouldn’t want this—shouldn’t want him—but there’s no denying it now.

“You can stop this anytime you want,” Quinn whispers against your lips, his breath warm and tantalizing. “Just say the word.”

But you don’t say anything. Because you can’t. You don’t want to stop, not when his hands are on you, not when his lips are trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Not when every nerve in your body is screaming at you to let go, to give in to this insane, reckless desire.

Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him with everything you’ve got, trying to show him that you’re not backing down, that you’re just as in this as he is. Maybe more.

Quinn groans against your lips, and you can feel the way his body tenses, the way his hands tighten their grip on your thighs. It’s intoxicating, the power you have over him, the way you can make him unravel with just a kiss, a touch.

But then his hands are slipping under your shorts, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s happening, it’s really happening, and suddenly, you’re not sure if you’re ready for this. If you can handle what comes next.

“Quinn,” you murmur, trying to sound like you’re in control, like you’re not about to lose it completely. But he’s not listening, or maybe he is, and he just doesn’t care, because his hands are still moving, still exploring, and you’re melting under his touch.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, and the look in his eyes is enough to make your stomach flip. It’s dark, intense, full of heat—and, damn it, he’s giving you that smug smile again, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice rough and breathless, a contrast to the arrogant tilt of his lips. “You good?”

Good? Is that a joke? You’re anything but good right now. Your heart is racing, your mind is spinning, and your body—well, your body is betraying you in every way possible, pressing closer to him, silently begging for more.

“I fucking hate you,” you manage to choke out, though the words feel flimsy, a pathetic attempt at maintaining some semblance of control. Quinn’s eyes narrow slightly, and you know he doesn’t believe you for a second. But instead of calling you out on it, he leans in, his lips brushing against your jawline as he murmurs, “Then why are you so fucking wet?” He punctuates the words by brushing his fingers against the damp fabric of your underwear.

Your brain short-circuits at his words. Like, did he really just—? You’re torn between the urge to slap that smug look off his face and the overwhelming desire to pull him closer, consequences be damned. The nerve of this guy, thinking he can just—

But then his fingers move, and every coherent thought you had goes flying out the window. A gasp escapes your lips, and you curse yourself for giving him the satisfaction, but, damn it, how are you supposed to keep your wits about you when his hands are doing that?

Quinn’s watching you, his eyes dark with amusement and something much more primal. “What’s the matter?” he teases, his voice a low rumble.

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to muster up some sort of retort, but all that comes out is a breathy, “Shut up,” which only makes his smirk widen. God, you want to wipe that grin off his face so badly, but every time you think you’re about to regain control, he does something that completely derails you.

Like now, for instance, when his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your underwear, and your hips jerk forward entirely of their own accord. Quinn’s chuckle is low and throaty, and you feel the vibrations of it against your neck as he nips at your skin, leaving a trail of barely-there bites that make your pulse race.

“Shutting up doesn’t seem like your style,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, making you shiver. “But I think I can find a way to keep you quiet.”

You don’t get a chance to ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean because his hand finally dips lower, and suddenly, you’re not sure whether you want to moan or curse him out. Your body makes the decision for you, your head falling back against the shelf as a breathless moan escapes your lips, and you feel Quinn’s grin widen against your skin.

“God, you’re so fucking—” Your words get caught in your throat as he moves his fingers just right, and the sound that comes out of you is more of a whimper than anything else. It’s humiliating, really, how easily he’s reducing you to this—a writhing, desperate mess—and the bastard knows it.

“Sensitive, are we?” Quinn’s voice is laced with amusement, but there’s a huskiness to it now, a slight hitch in his breath that tells you he’s just as affected by this as you are, even if he’s better at hiding it. “That’s cute.”

“Cute?” you manage to gasp, trying to muster up some semblance of defiance, even as your body betrays you by arching into his touch. “I’ll show you—” Your words trail off into a moan as he circles his fingers just right, and suddenly, the only thing you want to show him is how quickly you can come undone if he keeps this up.

You're about to fire back with something scathing, something that’ll put Quinn in his place, but all that comes out is a breathy gasp as his fingers work a little faster, a little rougher, hitting that spot that has your entire body going slack against the shelves. God, if anyone walked in right now, they'd have one hell of a show.

"Something you wanted to say?" Quinn’s voice is thick with that damn arrogance, but there's a slight edge to it now, like he's barely holding it together himself. Good, you think. If you’re going down, you’re taking him with you.

"Y-you're…" You try to form a sentence, anything to wipe that smug grin off his face, but the words get tangled in your throat as Quinn’s other hand slides up your thigh, his touch hot and demanding. "You're such a…"

He smirks, his lips hovering just over yours, so close you can feel the heat of his breath. "Go on, sweetheart. I'm dying to know."

"Oh, fuck off," you mutter, but your voice lacks any real bite, especially when his fingers dip lower, making your hips jerk forward involuntarily. "Quinn…"

He pauses, his lips still pressed to your jaw, and for a moment, you think maybe—just maybe—he’s going to stop, give you a chance to catch your breath, to regain some semblance of control. But then he moves again, his fingers slipping past your last shred of dignity, and you let out a sound that’s somewhere between a moan and a curse.

"That’s what I thought," Quinn whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I knew you couldn't keep that tough act up forever."

"Screw you," you hiss, but your words are cut off by another sharp gasp as Quinn’s thumb brushes over a particularly sensitive spot. "Oh, God…"

"Already there," he murmurs, his lips finding that spot just below your ear that makes your knees go weak. He presses a kiss there, soft and maddeningly slow, before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, and you can see the barely-contained hunger in them. It sends a thrill of both fear and excitement racing through you.

"Quinn, I swear, I’m gonna—" you gasp as his fingers continue their relentless assault, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Or maybe I'll just—"

"Just what?" he presses, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to finish the sentence. "Come all over my fingers? Because that’s what you’re about to do, isn’t it?"

There’s a part of you—the sensible, rational part—that’s still trying to cling to some semblance of control, some dignity. But that part is losing, rapidly being overpowered by the heat pooling in your stomach and the way Quinn’s looking at you like you’re the only thing he wants in the entire world.

For a moment, you consider making some sort of last-ditch effort to regain control, to pull away and regain your breath. But then Quinn’s thumb brushes over that spot again, and all thoughts of self-control go out the window. Instead, a moan slips past your lips—loud and unrestrained, filling the tiny storage closet with a sound that’s undeniably needy.

Quinn’s smirk widens, his eyes darkening with satisfaction, and damn it, he’s enjoying this way too much. “That’s right,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “You’re gonna come for me, yeah? Or do you want my cock instead?”

Your brain is short-circuiting, struggling to keep up with the intensity of the moment. The idea of him inside you, combined with the way he’s touching you, is almost too much to bear. You’re on the verge of losing it, and every part of you is screaming for release.

Finally, you manage a breathless, “Fuck it,” and let your hands wander lower, fumbling with his belt, your body arching against his in a desperate plea for more. You don’t care about the consequences, the logical part of your brain completely overridden by the burning need coursing through you.

“I swear, if we ever make it out of this closet,” you gasp, your fingers struggling with the stubborn belt buckle, “I’m going to have a hard time looking you in the eye.”

Quinn chuckles, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But right now, I think your focus should be on something else.”

You manage to loosen his belt, your hands shaking with anticipation. The urgency of the moment makes every touch and every breath more intense. “And what would that be?” you retort, trying to keep some semblance of your usual sarcasm. It’s hard, though, when his fingers are still doing deliciously wicked things to you.

Quinn’s fingers trace teasing circles, making your breath hitch and your body squirm against him. “Oh, I don’t know,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress against your ear. “Maybe on getting me out of these pants before I lose my patience.”

“Geez, Hughes, such a gentleman,” you manage, your voice breathless as you finally get his pants undone. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. It’s a heady feeling, and it’s only adding to the feverish heat between you.

You push his pants down just enough, and as you finally free his hard length, you’re met with the unmistakable evidence of his own need. The sight makes you gasp, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

Quinn groans into your mouth when you reach inside his jeans, his hips jerking forward as if seeking more contact, more friction. You’re both teetering on the edge now, the line between control and complete surrender blurred beyond recognition. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and you’re not sure if you want to keep pushing him or if you just want to let go and fall into the abyss together.

“God, you drive me fucking crazy,” Quinn breathes against your lips, his voice rough with need, and there’s a moment—a brief, fleeting moment—where you think you see something more in his eyes. Something deeper than just desire, something that sends a jolt of fear straight to your heart. But then his hands are on you again, pulling you closer, and whatever that look was, it’s gone, replaced by the raw, primal hunger that’s been simmering between you from the start.

You shudder as he grips your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with just enough force to make you gasp. You can feel him, hot and hard against your palm, and it’s taking everything in you not to just give in, to let him take what you both so clearly want. But there’s still that stubborn part of you, the part that refuses to let him have the upper hand, that wants to make him beg, make him come undone for you.

“Say please,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, your lips brushing against his as you speak.

Quinn freezes, his eyes narrowing as they lock onto yours, and for a moment, you think you’ve pushed him too far, that he’s going to pull back and leave you hanging on the edge of oblivion. But then a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Please?” he echoes, his tone dripping with arrogance, as if the very idea of him begging is laughable. “Sweetheart, I don’t beg.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you stroke him slowly, deliberately teasing, watching with satisfaction as his breath hitches, his bravado faltering ever so slightly. “No?” you murmur, leaning in to nip at his bottom lip, your voice low and taunting. “You sure about that?”

Quinn’s eyes darken, and for a split second, you think you’ve got him—that you’ve managed to gain the upper hand. But then he’s moving, faster than you can react, pinning your wrists behind your back with one hand while the other yanks your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in a way that sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

“You want to play games?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, the sound of it sending a shiver down your spine. “Fine. But I don’t play fair.”

Before you can respond, before you can even think to respond, he’s pressing into you, his body solid and unyielding, and all coherent thought flies out of your head as he finally, finally gives you what you’ve both been craving.

The world tilts on its axis as he thrusts into you, hard and deep, and you’re not sure if the sound that escapes your lips is a moan or a sob or something in between. All you know is that you’re completely, utterly lost in him—in the way he’s filling you, stretching you, driving you to the brink of madness with every rough, relentless movement.

Quinn’s breath is ragged against your ear, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. You’re so close, so fucking close, and it’s taking everything in you not to just let go, to give in to the blinding pleasure that’s consuming you from the inside out.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Quinn groans, his voice strained, and there’s something raw, almost vulnerable in the way he says it, something that makes your heart stutter in your chest. “I’ve been imagining this from the first moment I walked in here.”

Your hands are still pinned behind your back, your body arched against the shelves, completely at Quinn’s mercy. And damn it, he knows it. He knows exactly how to push you to the brink, how to make you lose every ounce of control you thought you had. His movements are powerful, purposeful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge, until you’re teetering on the brink of oblivion.

“Quinn—” You gasp out his name, your voice shaking with the intensity of it all, and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through you like a living thing. His grip on your wrists tightens, the roughness of his touch sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight through you.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your ear, his breath hot and ragged, and there’s something possessive, almost desperate, in his voice that makes your heart race even faster. “You’re fucking mine.”

And you’re so damn close, so close to falling apart entirely. But there’s still that stubborn part of you, the part that refuses to give in, to let him have all the control. So, you tighten around him, just enough to pull a sharp, choked-off groan from his throat, and you feel a surge of satisfaction as his rhythm falters, just for a moment.

“Fuck, you’re—” Quinn’s voice is hoarse, strained, as if he’s holding onto the last shreds of his control by a thread, and it sends a thrill through you to know that you’re the one doing this to him. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Yeah?” you manage to breathe out, trying to sound cocky despite the tremble in your voice. “Maybe you should—”

But you don’t get to finish the thought, because Quinn shifts his angle just slightly, and suddenly, he’s hitting a spot that has you seeing stars, that has your back arching off the shelves and a cry escaping your lips before you can stop it.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice, the triumph. He’s found your weakness, and he’s going to exploit it for all it’s worth. “Right there, yeah?”

All you can do is nod, biting down on your lip to keep from crying out again as he starts to focus all his attention on that one spot, his movements growing more precise, more deliberate. He’s relentless, driving you closer and closer to the brink, and you can feel yourself starting to unravel, to lose the tenuous grip you have on your composure.

“Quinn, I—” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, don’t even know if you can say anything at all with the way your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps.

Quinn’s chuckle against your ear is low and dark, the sound a tantalizing contrast to the rough, punishing way he’s moving inside you. “What was that? Didn’t quite catch it over the sound of you moaning my name.”

The arrogance in his voice is infuriating, but it’s also the last thing on your mind right now. Every thrust he gives you is like a jolt to your system, making it harder to stay focused, harder to cling to whatever shreds of control you have left. Your head is spinning, and you’re almost grateful for the way his body is pressed against yours, anchoring you in a whirlwind of pleasure.

You let out a breathless laugh, even as your body betrays you by arching into him. “You’re insufferable,” you manage to gasp out, trying to hold onto some semblance of your usual bravado. “And you’re really bad at this whole ‘being a gentleman’ thing.”

“Is that so?” Quinn’s voice is a low purr, his breath hot against your ear. “Keep telling me how much you hate me. It makes this so much better.”

You roll your eyes, even as a moan escapes your lips, the sound muffled by the way you bite down on your bottom lip. “You’re such a jerk,” you manage to say, though your voice is shaky and breathless, betraying just how much he’s affecting you.

“Yeah?” Quinn’s breath is hot against your neck, and you feel the brush of his lips against your skin, sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. “That’s not what your body’s telling me, sweetheart.”

You grit your teeth, determined not to let him have the satisfaction of knowing just how much he’s getting to you. But it’s a losing battle, and you both know it. Especially when he starts moving faster, his pace relentless as he drives into you with a force that has your entire body trembling.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your fingers digging into the shelves as you struggle to stay upright. “You’re—” Your words are cut off by a sharp cry as he angles his hips just right, hitting that spot inside you again that has your vision going white around the edges.

You don’t have time to think, don’t have time to process the fact that you’re completely, utterly exposed in a storage closet with a man who has made a sport out of driving you insane. All you can do is feel—every touch, every thrust, every ragged breath against your ear is pushing you closer to the edge, closer to losing the last of your control.

“God, you’re so… fucking… cocky,” you manage to choke out between gasps, your voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and desire. “It’s disgusting.”

“Mm-mhm,” Quinn’s voice is a low growl, his words vibrating against your neck as his teeth graze the sensitive skin there. “And you’re just an annoying brat who brushes me off every time I say something nice. But I figured it out, you just wanted me to rail all that attitude out of you.”

You try to respond, to counter his taunts with some biting retort, but all that comes out is a breathless moan as he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more urgent. “Fuck, Quinn,” you gasp, trying to hold onto the last remnants of your control. “You’re—”

He interrupts you with a sharp, possessive growl. “I’m what? Don’t hold back now. Tell me how good it feels.”

Your head is spinning, your thoughts a jumbled mess of desire and frustration. “You’re a complete—” Another moan escapes you as Quinn hits that spot inside you again, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts. “A complete… asshole,” you manage to choke out, your voice trembling.

“And you love it,” Quinn’s voice is a triumphant whisper against your ear. “You love every second of this. Don’t you?”

You can’t even respond, the pleasure overwhelming you to the point where you’re just barely able to hold onto the edge of sanity. All you can do is nod, your body arching into him, your hands still pinned behind your back, completely at his mercy.

“You’re so close,” Quinn murmurs, his voice low and rough. “So fucking close. I can feel it. And I’m going to make sure you get there. I promise.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you feel yourself starting to unravel, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. Quinn’s movements are relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the brink, until you’re on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall into oblivion.

“Quinn, I—” You try to speak, but the words are lost in a cry as he thrusts into you with a force that has your vision going white around the edges.

Quinn’s grip on your hips tightens, his voice a rough whisper against your ear. “Come for me,” he growls, his breath hot and urgent. “Let go. Give it to me.”

And with those words, you shatter, your body convulsing with a pleasure so intense that it’s almost painful. You cry out his name, your voice echoing through the storage closet as you come apart, your entire world dissolving into a blur of sensation and release.

Quinn follows close behind, his movements growing erratic as he drives into you with one final, powerful thrust. You can feel his release inside you, hot and thick, and it sends a shiver through your entire body. He groans against your ear, his breath ragged and heavy, and you can feel the tension in his body as he finally, finally finds his own release.

The two of you are left panting in the aftermath, your bodies pressed together in the confined space of the storage closet. Quinn’s breath is hot against your ear, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your back.

“God,” he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper. “That was… intense.”

You manage a shaky laugh, trying to catch your breath. “Yeah,” you agree, your voice still trembling. “That’s one way to put it. Now, get off of me. I have to get back to work.”

#vancouver canucks #quinn hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #qh43 #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #qh43 x Reader

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icarryitin · 4 months

Text

Candles

spencer reid/gn!reader

happy 26th anniversary of my escape from the womb, as a celebration pls enjoy this lil smth smth while i spend the evening eating a whole cake by myself🧡

series masterlist

word count: 1.3k // warnings: zero just vibes, also glasses reid comes with his own warning🫡

summary: You only just about manage to rein in Penelope for your first birthday at the BAU. Spencer throws a curveball.

It’s been a mission and a half, keeping it all under wraps. Penelope’s been the worst, but you managed to convince her not to put a reminder on everyone’s calendar - a new sparkly unicorn friend for her desk collection was enough to satiate her. For this year, at least.

Birthdays aren’t what they used to be.

They used to be a month long affair, sparkly and exciting. Now it’s just a day. You might get a couple of cards from a couple of family members, you might treat yourself to a takeout so you don’t have to cook, you might watch your favourite movie. It’s nothing special anymore, but you don’t mind that. It’s just a part of growing up.

Which is exactly why you’d expressly forbidden Garcia from organising any kind of celebration when she’d cornered you in the elevator about it last week. You’re still a relatively shiny new toy in the BAU, and being the centre of attention isn’t one of your strong suits anymore. You’re happy to let it pass largely unnoticed by your colleagues. She can do something next year, for sure, when you’re settled in properly. Provided there are no cases that demand attention.

Your back still aches from the flight back yesterday evening, nobody ever said sleeping sitting up is good for you. But, thankfully, it means that everyone’s been too swamped in paperwork today to have noticed Penelope’s extremely subtle efforts to make the day a little easier for you. Her way of celebrating, you were never going to get away that easily. A coffee this morning, a muffin from the café when she came back from her lunch break, she’d even called you into The Lair to present you with a card. Secretly, of course, so as not to arouse suspicion. It’s tucked away in your bag now, safe and sound. Glitter and all.

“Goodnight, my loves.” She appears in your field of vision, blonde head bobbling over the divider between your desk and Morgan’s.

You raise your hand to wave, but the occupant of the desk to your right is far too engrossed in the file to notice. It’s just the three of you left in the office - Penelope, you, and Spencer. Even Hotch has gone, armed with a stack of case files and a furrowed brow.

��See you in the morning, P.” It doesn’t take a lot of effort to return her smile, however tired you might be. That’s the thing about Penelope Garcia, you’ve learned, her energy is kind of infectious. She totters over to your desk with a sly look over at Reid, who still doesn’t appear to be paying any attention.

“Happy Birthday.” She whispers, throwing you an exaggerated wink. Okay, maybe you feel a little bit guilty about depriving her of the celebration she wanted to give you.

And then she’s off, and it’s just you and Reid and the occasional quiet tapping of keyboards, the sifting of papers.

You’ve been absorbed by a file, checking and double checking your additions to the report are accurate, so you don’t really pay Reid any mind when he wanders off towards the kitchen. Your red pen is out, scribbling on an extra copy of the notes. The Unsub on this case had been crafty, but not crafty enough, and your confidence is growing with the handful of takedowns now under your belt. It’s nice to feel like you’re contributing to the team’s success - it’s still your rookie year, but your handcuffs are a little less shiny than they were. You’re about to start typing up your amendments when there’s a noise behind you, like someone clearing their throat. They do it again, a little louder, a little less unsure. It’s unexpected to say the least, the image you’re presented with when you turn in your chair.

Doctor Spencer Reid - adjacent desk mate, awkward stakeout buddy, bespectacled distraction - is holding a small plate out to you, one single cupcake in the centre. There’s a birthday candle stuck in the chocolate swirled icing, just the one, tiny flame wobbling away in the air conditioning. He looks nervous, but there’s a glint in his eye hiding behind his glasses. You wonder what kind of threats Penelope made to get him to do this.

“Garcia said you didn’t want a fuss,” He starts rambling, “So, I figured I would wait until there were less people around and - well, it looks like it’s just us now.”

You’re fumbling for something to say, anything.

“This was - yeah, this was a bad idea, wasn’t it? You didn’t want a fuss and I did this and now you-“

“It’s okay.” You say, finally finding your voice. Matching smiles start to grow, slowly, and the lingering awkwardness evaporates.

It’s hard not to play up the childish wonder of it all - even in the beige and navy confines of the BAU office. Reid still holds the cupcake out towards you as you squeeze your eyes shut, nose wrinkled. Making a wish. You’re not really sure what it is you’re wishing for, maybe it’s that you’ll settle in with the team for the long term, maybe it’s that you’ll catch every bad guy until there’s none left, maybe it’s that a certain teammate will keep looking at you with those big old eyes and a hint of a smile on his face. Whatever it is, it’s good enough, and you open your eyes slowly. Leaning forward, one small puff of breath extinguishes the little candle. Birthday ritual complete. You’re sure Reid has a fun fact about the history of birthday celebrations and the burning of foodstuffs, but you don’t ask just yet. He’s still holding the plate out to you.

“Split it with me?”

His answering grin is contagious, you’ve no choice but to return it as he turns on his heel to hunt down a knife from the kitchen.

“And since it’s just the two of us,” He chatters on his way back from the kitchen, a second plate and butter knife in tow, “I won’t even make you wear the birthday hat.”

There’s a birthday hat, good lord. You’re glad you managed to hold Penelope off for one year, even if it’s the only one she’ll let you have.

“You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“There’s always next year.” Reid is grinning into his half of the cupcake, deliberately not watching you process the fact that you will absolutely be wearing the birthday hat this time next year. But it’s surprisingly heartwarming to hear that he thinks you’ll be with the team for your next birthday. Not that you don’t expect to be, but having confirmation that the others believe it too makes you feel a little fuzzy.

“At least I caught Garcia before she organised a street party, a card and a cupcake do me just fine.” Your words are muffled around the mouthful of cake and icing.

“Oh, she didn’t do this.”

You don’t follow. That much must be clear on your face, because he presses on.

“I made a batch, but then Penelope said you wanted low-key. So I only brought one.”

He made it?

He made it. For you.

If he wasn’t hurtling towards inappropriate crush territory already, he sure is now.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that it’s the first time you use his name. Not Doctor, not Reid, just Spencer. He’s noticed too, if the blush steadily creeping up his cheeks is anything to go by. But you don’t want him to steam up his glasses, and you definitely don’t want to dig yourself in any deeper - so you ask him about birthday candles, an answer he’s more than happy to provide between the last mouthfuls of cupcake and remaining file reports.

Maybe the work birthday thing isn’t so bad, you’ll just have to find that hat before next year.

the canyouniverse is back with a vengeance baybieeee 🧡🧡 i’m love them sm (and you!! for reading!!!)

#featuring bestie penelope garcia!!!! for no other reason than i adore her!!!!#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #lou writes #the canyouniverse

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starryhutcherson · 4 months

Text

━━ A NEW FAMILIAR

author's note: crawled out of my hole for this one guys. sorry for being so ghost mode im working on putting out more stuff, apologies if this isn't of the highest quality as i'm running on sugar free redbull and three hours of sleep ! love my life hahahahaAHHHH

'୧ ‧₊ pairing: best friend!mike schmidt x reader warnings: 18+ sexual content! oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing word count: 4600+ ⋆ ✩‧₊

Mike’s expression always glooms when you bring up the next date you’ve arranged. He knows how this story plays out; he knows the truth behind the men you’ve matched with on whatever sketchy website you’ve wasted your time on. They’ve molded themselves into the embodiment of perfection, through falsified photos and fabrications buried in their bios. His patience crumbles like fireplace ash as you skip around his living room and drone on about whatever dickhead you’ve set your poor, precious heart on.

He knows, always, the the outcome is running makeup and salty cheeks, sobbing on the floor of his living room in a creasing satin dress and his welcoming arms, a bitter exclamation of “you were right Mike” leaving your lips in the knowing silence and him gritting his jaw and pretending that it doesn’t bother him the the only habits you ever find yourself falling back into are the bad ones.

It’s no different today.

Mark or Matt or Mitch – you really were killing him, because it should be Mike. It should be him. Him that you’re getting ready for, him that you’re daydreaming about. And it’s an odd feeling, like a movie where your favorite character dies and then movie finishes and you have to accept that they aren’t coming back, no matter how long you sit glued to the reclinable chair, popcorn crunched beneath your sneakers and the credit-scene reflected in your shrinking pupils.

Mike’s not the type to be happier with the hope – he’d let the truth swallow him up, sink into his creaking bones, he’d live with the loss. But he still has hope for you. He has hope that your eyes will open and you’ll seep into his brain and his breath and his bed. He hopes you’ll start seeing him instead of just looking. Maybe it's wishful thinking. Ignorant optimism.

It feels like it.

It feels like it, right now, when he’s leaning against the doorframe of his bathroom and watching you get ready, your animated chatter reverberating around the small space between coats of mascara. He offered to give you a ride before you’d even asked, and he’ll tolerate the sting of watching you get out of the car looking all pretty for someone who isn’t him, just to make sure you get there safely. It’s the type of sacrifice he’ll make for you.

“I can’t even feel my face, I’ve been smiling so hard all day!” You squeal, powdering your cheeks with more purposeless product – he thinks it’s all pointless. You’re radiant, even in the harsh lighting of his bathroom.

He offers a low grunt. What is he supposed to say? He’s not happy. And he’s not gonna pretend he is.

You either don’t notice or choose to ignore, continuing to doll yourself up to whatever standards you have for yourself. “I mean, he says he’s been skiing since he was 6. He’s practically an olympian.”

Mike scoffs.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Can you hurry up?”

“Alright, grumpy. Calm down. I gotta do my lips and then I’m ready. Plus, nobody told you that you gotta stand here.”

A fleeting flush of fuchsia permeates his cheeks, but he looks down at his worn shoes to hide it. It’s true. He didn’t have to stand here. But if an angel was populating your bathroom you’d want to take a peek, would you not? That’s how he thinks you look. Angelic. Glowing from your soul, a content smile knitted on your lips. You might as well have a halo and wings – that heaven-sent aura is reinforced when you douse yourself in lingering washes of that sweet perfume that’s branded itself to you. He’d recognise that floral aroma anywhere, the way a shark detects a drop of blood amongst saline scattered seas.

“Okay, I’m ready. How do I look?”

Cruelest question of them all. “You look… fine. Good.”

A knot forms in your brow. “All this effort for that terrible answer?” Playful, but with a truthful undertone. Why do you value his opinion so much? He doesn’t want to assume anything.

“Well I’m not the person you’re dressing up for.” I wish I was. He doesn’t say the other words, but he thinks them so hard he’s half convinced if you were listening in the right spot, or looking into his eyes for long enough that you’d hear it anyway.

“Okay, okay, whatever. Let’s just get going, don’t wanna keep Mack waiting.”

Two letters. That’s all it would take. That’s all he’d have to swap to make it him.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

✩‧₊˚

Even if you aren’t aware, even if he did offer, he drives begrudgingly. He focuses as much as he can, on the road ahead and not your glistening figure beside him in the passenger seat, the very definition of temptation.

The mall parking lot is barren, a few gleaming cars scattered amongst the otherwise desolate area. He pulls into a space, sets the car in park, rakes in a greedy sigh of air.

“If anything happens, call me.”

You sneer teasingly. “Don’t be so pessimistic. It’s gonna be great, he could be my future husband, y’know.”

Yep. Mack, the 35 year old you've met online, who’s only notable talent seems to be skiing and his greatest life achievement to date is shooting a deer, whose head is mounted to the wall in his bedroom, typically visible in the background of his many instagram posts which involved his shirtless figure straining to flex his overly pronounced bulk. A match made in heaven. He wants to scream.

And how can you even tell him to not be pessimistic? How can you look him in the eyes and act like this moment hasn’t happened time after time, the point of no return before an evening spent crying in his arms as he reassures you that your failed dates are never your fault, even though by now it seems like you must be seeking out the same genre of shitty man if you’re this good at getting your heart broken. He’s sick of picking up the fragile little pieces of his bathroom floor, cutting himself on the shards of a heart that’ll never be his. You deserve more than these half-baked, single night romances. He could show you that.

“Yeah, sure,” he grits. “Future husband. Just call me, seriously.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you.”

And with that, you’re off, disappearing into the gaping mouth of the mall’s entrance, and he watches with an alkaline feeling growing in his stomach. Your hair is caught up in the wind like clothing on a washline and he thinks his hope is all drained out.

✩‧₊˚

Mike spends a good two hours back at his house. His movements feel vacuous, staring ahead at the screen, barely processing the raging garbage that masquerades as reality TV. The rain has picked up outside, licking at the window panes with a growing intensity.

He’s not happy about the jean skirt and tiny little tank top you’d clad yourself in prior to leaving, you’re probably frigid by now in the cold. You did however reassure him that Mack was gonna drive you home, or even worse, take you back to his place, so his stupid fucking elk head trophie could watch with it’s empty eyes while the pair of you fuck on the bed that his mom still has to make for him because he never can quite manage those fitted sheets, can he? Fucking manchild.

Shit. Mike’s feeling so so bitter. Maybe it’s because he’s finally realized that this is the dreaded pattern he’s going to have to endure with you until death. Or until he braves up and actually tells you that he’s been in love with you since the fifth day of second grade, when you mouthily confronted Jerry Murdoch and told him to give Mike his crayons back.

With a weak sigh, he turns the TV off with a click of the remote still encaptured in the loose hold of his fist, and decides to see if he can melt into any form of sleep – but the knock on his door prevents him from doing so.

He arises lethargically, not having much on his mind but the denial of his slumber as he shuffles over and turns the handle, but then, it’s you.

Fluttery lashes melted to black smudges beneath your eyes, a mixture of rainwater and tears, completely drenched and dripping all over his doormat, your body is trembling and you’re wracked with tiny little cries and he’s feeling so many emotions he believes he might implode.

He pulls you inside and into his arms, stroking your back in gentle, soothing motions, and it kills him that this has become routine. He’s angry. He’s sick of this.

“What happened this time?” He grunts softly.

“He didn’t even show up. He couldn’t even send a message as to why, Mike,” you sniffle into his warm chest, drunk off the even echo of his heartbeat.

A moment’s silence rots like aged fruit. He draws a breath in, then out, then in again.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

You crane your face upwards to meet him, instantly bathed in a nervous shiver when you see how serious he looks.

“My phone was dead.” Is all you can manage to mumble.

“What?” He’s pissed. “Why didn’t you charge it? You could have charged it there, they have outlets at the mall. Or you could’ve used someone else’s, so you didn’t have to walk home in the rain, because you’re drenched.”

“I don’t–”

“Y’know how dangerous it is to walk around alone in this shitty neighborhood? Half the street lights don’t even work, and I don’t even know any of my neighbors, or what kinda people walk around here at night.” He grumbles. “I shouldn’t have to tell you all this, I’m sick of explaining all this to you.”

You roll your eyes irritably, releasing yourself from his arms and crossing your own across your dripping wet torso. “How was I supposed to know he was gonna stand me up? You’re telling me I should just expect it?”

He blinks like a deer in headlights, silence settles into his flesh.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

You scoff. “It’s what you implied.”

“It’s not what I—” He grumbles weakly under his breath, cutting himself off, deciding reasoning with you is somewhat of a useless attempt. “Why can’t you just listen to me?”

“What, charge my phone next time? Bring a raincoat? Yeah, great help, seriously, don’t know where I’d be without you,” your sarcasm hits like gunshot wounds to the teeth.

“Or maybe you should try to meet actual people, instead of fake ones from some stupid website.”

After a cold shiver bites up your spine, your expression deepens with defense. What is his fucking problem? “At least I try to get out of the house! At least I don’t spend every hour of every day moping around and feeling sorry for myself!”

The pair of you fight, sure, every good relationship, friend or romance or family or whatever should, but nothing like this. This is stone-set, it’s been coming for a while, the wild gesticulations and the pacing and the raised voices. It shakes the bones of the weakened house.

“Don’t,” Mike says with a furious edge, fists tightening and untightening like he’s about to take a swing at the wall, like this is going to end with bleeding knuckles nipped with shards of worn plaster. “Don’t throw that in my face, I do everything I can, for you and Abby. It’s not like I have a choice.”

“So what, you’re so fucking miserable in your own life that you have to try and control mine?”

“Control? You’re like my child! You don’t even know how to take care of yourself half the time, so yes, I try to help you not to make such shitty decisions!”

You scowl. “You’re not obligated to do anything for me, y’know Mike. Why do you keep me around if I’m that much of a chore for you!”

He snaps, the tension in his fists bleeding up into his throat, his mouth, the words clot behind his gums and suddenly they tumble out in a fury-fueled shout. “Because you’ve got no one else!”

You deflate, wilting like a flame without oxygen, and Mike deems the silence to be more cruel than anything else you’ve said to him tonight. He’s feeling everything and nothing all at once, the quiet crumbles around him like a burning building and he fears he’ll become rubble beneath the debris.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just… god, just–” His eyes flick to you, and then retreat back down to the faded living room carpet. He can’t swallow his guilt this time. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

“It’s fine,” you say coldly, knuckling away an angry tear. The salt water is the trick of nostalgia, you’ve cried like this so many times. Your breakage of those promises to yourself. It’ll be different. And it never is.

“No. It’s not – I’m a dick, I just… I hate watching other people ruin your life. You deserve better.”

Better. What is better? Some twisted fantasy that some people are indulged with and others are left longing for. That you’re left longing for. You know he’s tired of the same bullshit that you force yourself through, convincing yourself of change, painting yourself up to be fit for presentation, and hoping that whoever you’ve leeched onto likes what they see, so you don’t have to feel so alone anymore. You’re oblivious, painfully so. Because Mike could plaster together the cracks in your splintering psyche, if you’d just let him in.

“Whatever, Mike. It’s true anyway.”

There’s a hole in his heart in the shape of your name. He begs you. Fill it. A part of him shatters at the defeat in your words — he’s crumbled you to the bone, to the marrow. He’ll build you back up. You deserve it.

“No it isn't. No it isn’t. You have me. You’ll always have me.”

A silence pervades; the look in his eyes is one of pleading, that you’ll stop and see what he’s offering you, that you’ll stop chasing your own tail, that you’ll stop the cycle.

“Mike…”

“And Abby.”

You indulge him.

“You have me. And you have Abby. And I know that’s… not much, but she loves you. So much. And I’m sorry, ‘cause I know I don’t say it enough, I don’t…. I don’t say how much you mean to me, but I just—”

“Mike.”

He wallows in the waters of your rain kissed eyes, the way your pupils pulse and the words are falling before he can swallow them back down.

“I love you.”

He gives you that stare. That stare that’s the color of black coffee, the look that you can feel, unearthing the graveyard of wilting feelings you’ve tried to bury, the heart that beats for him him him, lodged between the ivory bars of your ribcage. He maps you out with his eyes, he looks at you the way the sun hungers for daybreak.

He’s waiting. He’d wait forever.

“And… and seeing you with these… shitty people who don’t even care about you, it just…” He sighs exasperatedly, dragging a sweaty palm down his face.

His sentences can’t seem to finish themselves. This is harder than it looks in the movies. Harder than when he’s practiced in the mirror, when Abby’s walked in and giggled at him and told him to just fess up.

“You love me? Like…”

He looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “Yeah. I do.”

You’re beyond bewildered. He loves you. He loves you.

“What– but… you—”

“You don’t have to… say anything. I just, I can’t… I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t do it.”

You reach for his hand. It’s a little clammy, a little trembly, but it’s a perfect fit. Just like you.

“I love you too, Mike.”

What?

“You… do?”

He’s skeptical, but he’s also swooning. A stone man is slowly cracking.

“I just didn’t… didn’t think I could have you. I mean, you’re so… you’re everything, y’know? You’re a good brother, and you work so hard, and you’re… I’m just… I don’t think I deserve you,” you whisper, confessing. With a newfound stroke of confidence, he approaches, one hand snaking around to the small of your back, another on your cheek. He’s gentle. In his eyes, you’re porcelain. Precious. Fragile. At least, at this moment. But you love him too and that’s all he needs. It’s all he’s ever needed.

“You deserve everything.” He says it so quietly it’s barely audible. And then, nothing is audible because he’s carefully pulling your lips to his, linking you in every way, his hands tangle into your damp hair and he’s kissing you.

His lips chase yours in messy, uncalculated movements. He’s starting small. It’s been a while. And he’s gonna take his time with you. He’s gonna show you what you deserve. Soft sounds squeak past his lips as they flutter against yours, and you’re closer and closer and closer still, impossibly so.

Within moments he’s whisking you off to his bedroom, his hand tangled with yours, an interlace tight enough to cause ropeburn. His skin chafes with yours, and then he’s kissing you again atop his navy comforter.

He’s gentle, respectful, but you understand what he’s trying to tell you, what he’s been trying to tell you. He speaks through silken drags of his tongue, through the hand that holds your cheek steady— he feels as though he’s gripping the very cusp of a constellation. You taste like stardust. You glow like the waning moon.

He breathes heavily in the expanse of his throat, his pants have become tight and wet and filthy; he’s been subconsciously grinding down into your lap. You’re a little shaky and your pupils have darkened with lust and he is going to show you what you mean to him. What you’ve been missing.

His hand falls lower, into the slope of torso that dips into your hips. His eyes travel back and forth, searching, hunting for the desire that he feels mirrored back at him. Do you want this, the way he does? Do you? His hardened stare doesn’t speak loud enough. He elaborates.

“Can I… uh… do you wanna…?”

Do you want to? You need to.

“Shit, okay,” he croaks out, jaw tense and tight as he traces you beneath calloused fingers. You didn’t realize you said that out loud.

He’s endearingly awkward – you know from languid late-night conversations that he hasn’t done this a lot. Maybe even at all. But he’s sweet, so sweet, like lapping up sugar and feeling it dissolve on your tongue, feeling him dissolve on your tongue, giving you comfort and cavities.

“Can I take this off?” He asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of your camisole. A short nod, and he’s sliding it over your sweat-pricked figure, admiring your contours in the whisper of evening moonlight that bleeds through holes in his moth-eaten curtains. You’re perfect, and he knew you would be.

He caresses your skin gently, drunk on the mellow feeling of your bare stomach beneath his fingertips. Your bra is black, a little lace peering along the straps, your breasts spilling into the fabric. He reaches around your back, fumbling at the clasp. When the garment drops, his hands are replacing it before you can even blink.

“Beautiful,” he manages to get out, thumbing over your nipples.

“Mngh, Mike—”

“Sh. Just let me… just let me. Let me make you feel good. Please?” He grunts out under his breathless voice, and how could you deny such a request?

The moment you agree, he’s grabbing you by the thighs and tugging you towards him slightly, so your back is nearly flat against his mattress and he’s settling himself in the gap that you create for him.

Your skirt comes off first. Your panties are undeniably soused, his fingers trace the big wet spot that’s dripping all for him, teasing you through torturously thin cotton.

“Mike,” you mewl gently, fingers settling in his nest of chocolate curls that are damp with sweat. A firm tweak and he’s groaning, his voice melting away into nothing like hot tar.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles to himself, like he’s never seen anything like it. Probably not in a while. His finger hooks beneath the waistband, pulls it out gently, and lets it go. It slaps against your hip bone and another fresh sound seeps from your lips.

“Mike, shit, please just do something—”

“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than you, carefully sliding your panties from your waist, down past your ankles, and he’s tossing them to join the pile of clothes that has begun to collect on his bedroom floor.

You’re here, before him. The girl he waited for. Your soft flesh is glistening, clenching painfully around nothing, and he’s salivating at the sight of you. He pries your legs out further with his warm hands, leaving them to linger on your bare flesh for a few drawn out moments, before he claims what’s rightfully his.

He presses a trialing kiss to your clit, and your back curves delicately, fingers tightening their grasp in his hair. He moans into you at this action, and you, in turn, moan as well. Confidence creates itself in him with each little whimper that he gets you to release, and he’s answering back, hearing your cries, your calls of his name with his own unabashed exclamations of pleasure. This is just as good for him, as it is for you.

“Mike,” you whine gently, and he’s mumbling weak praise right into your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanted this for so long.”

It’s barely audible between his languid sucks; he’s lapping at your drooling entrance, fingers subtly creeping closer, up and along your thighs and settling right above your throbbing clit. He presses his thumb against it, tracing sinful circles against your bud— once, twice, and then you’re far too close to the edge.

“Oh, Mike I’m gonna come,” you choke out between gasps.

“Do it. Please.”

He’s begging you.

And you oblige. With a trembling sob, your thighs tense around his head, keeping him locked in place, capturing him and making sure he finishes the job, and oh does he plan to. When you soar, he’s still holding you in place, soothing the electric sparks pulsating throughout your body.

He savors your sounds, and when they stop coming, he presses a lingering peck on your inner thigh, stubble scraping at the sensitive dermis. He then raises his face to your level, the light coruscating off the filthy souvenir etched all over his face, your glittering arousal that he wears so proudly.

He steals a proper kiss from you, rubbing your side as a gentle comfort. He’s completely hard now, tenting his sweats, leaking against the fabric. You gingerly reach out, tracing what you assume to be the head of his cock, and he sags, boneless, against your touch.

“Fuck, baby I—”

“Baby?” You chuckle softly, still hazed from the candy-coated afterglow of your orgasm. The first of many, he hopes.

“Mngh— g… got a problem?” He grumbles softly, almost quivering as you begin to palm him with purpose.

“It’s out of character,” you tell him gently.

“Shit, can I be inside you?” He asks you, voice ripped raw.

And once again, Mike Schmidt leaves you breathless.

“Yeah. I need it. I need you.”

He groans, slipping off his pants and boxers without so much as another word from your swollen lips. He’s hard, angrily so, his cock pulses violently and a little whimper escapes through the crack in his bitten lips when it slaps against his stomach.

He’s stroking himself slowly, base to tip and then back again, collecting the pearls of precum that dribble from his slit. He’s never been so ready for something. For you. It’s all for you.

He’s holding you, thumbing your hip bones and gently nudging himself into your hole, cooing at every cry that crawls from the crevices of your throat. When he bottoms out, finally, it’s safe to say that he gets a little dumb. “Oh, shit, I’m not— not gonna last long, you’re so tight, shit…” He’s rambling a little. It’s cute.

A few wandering kisses land on you the way dandelion spores decorate a skyline – your cheek and your chin and your jaw, as he waits for you to let him move. You’re squeezing him for all he’s got and he’s three seconds away from spilling before he’s even so much as thrusted. You do this to him.

All those days, staring into your eyes and wondering if you’d ever see him the way you do, all those nights, stroking your hair and softening your saddened sobs after failed date after failed date. They’re all worth it.

You’re clamping down on him, warm and wet and wavering, and you’re exhaling softly through your nose and telling him to move, begging him to move, to make you feel good, and it’s what he does.

He pumps into you with passion, magnetized to your every movement. He’s satisfying a decade worth of insatiable craving, he’s chasing your hips with his. You end where he begins.

The headboard creaks and slams against thin plastered walls, one hand grips onto it with alabaster knuckles and the other one holds your hips for better leverage. He doesn’t need to say it, but each knocked kiss of his pelvis to yours is a silent I love you I love you I love you.

“Oh my god Mike,” you sob, and he slides himself deeper, hitting everywhere he wants to reach. Everywhere to make you quiver beneath him.

“You d—don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he moans lowly. “How many times I’ve imagined you like— like this.”

He’s blabbering, every stray thought that passes through his head is already blossoming on his tongue and out into the air before he can even think twice. Admittedly, you’re too blissed out in your own mind to really respond, but it’s arousing all the same.

“You’re so… so beautiful,” he’s flushed and he’s faltering, and you know he’s close before he even announces it.

“Shit, baby, I can’t— can’t last much longer,” he stammers, his bruising pace beginning to shake.

“Do it in me, Mike, please, please,” shit, are you trying to kill him? Your word is the only law he knows, and he’s wrapping his arms around your torso and diving his head in the elegant slope of your collarbone, biting down into the skin and spasming somewhere deep in your welcoming walls.

He tries to keep himself quiet, but it’s really a futile effort. His hips jut sporadically as he empties himself inside you, and the sudden flood of subtle heat is all it takes for you to topple over as well.

Bliss teeters back into reality after a seemingly ceaseless moment. He peels his head from its previous position to admire you, to stroke a stray lock of hair from your forehead and nervously greet it with a kiss.

He doesn’t let go of you. Not now, not ever, he thinks to himself. His arms snake around you tighter, and somehow it’s even more intimate after the fact. His bare chest collides with your back, his nose rests comfortably against the crown of your head. The pair of you follow each other into a dreamless sleep, safe in the sanctuary of a warm bed and an even warmer embrace.

He’s found his new familiar.

masterlist

✩‧₊

#mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #peeta mellark smut #hunger games #michael schmidt #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson angst #josh hutcherson fluff

605 notes · View notes

nekassvariigs · 2 years

Text

Intentionally calling them husband in scenarios, heres how it goes

part two

Luffy, Sabo, Katakuri, Zoro, Sanji ,Smoker, Roger, Shanks, Eustass Kid

part three will feature Robin, Whitebeard, Marco, Ben Beckmann, Franky, Brook, Mihawk.

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Luffy

Save him please someone.

"Argh i refuse!" he'd snarl pointy teeth showing as he yells.

''But Luffy, you'd be a great husband." you protest making him only more irritated.

"I'm not marrying anyone!'' he slaps his hands on the table, steam blowing form his nose, you pout a little with this fake facade.

You walk over to the kitchen taking out a well cooked meat dish. ''Here i made something for you."

His nose is like a hounds when it comes to meat. "Wacha got there." he's already clanking forks against the table as you set it in front of him.

"If you eat this, you'll be my husband."

He completely ignores your joke, dropping forks aside he takes the food with his hands, chewing the delicious meal.

"So good! Oi Y/n ,I want more, moreee!" he'd whine not even finishing the first set his eyes sparkling wide as he looks at you.

''Oh whatever." you completely lose against him, his obliviousness compares with no one when it comes to this.

He thanks you for the food, licking his mouth from the crumbs, you show him another one.

''Shishishi" he cackles loudly and before you notice the food is long gone.

"Luffy!'' you shout watching him swallow quickly, you're left defeated.

''At least enjoy it you ape.." you wail silently watching him brisk past you.

''Maybe I should consider, aah who knows, but the food is too good.'' he speaks to himself arms behind his head and a large smile.

If you haven't ever experienced a Boa Hancock moment now you understand what it is about.

Sabo

''Isn't this a little sudden?'' he asks.

The two of you lying on the couch whilst watching a movie, not that the movie was bad but somehow Sabo started talking about random things trying to get to know a bit more of your mind until the topic game to be about marriage, you asked him what he thought about being called husband and this was his response.

"Were not getting married Sabo, it's just a question, what do you think?'' his arm pulled back a little from holding onto you , his elbow rested on the couch, hand still on your back he traced light circles.

''Well putting it this way.." he looked in thought his blonde hair falling over his eyes you couldn't help to brush it away, his gaze softly falling on you he smiled into the touch.

"I don't hate it, matter of fact, im open to it."

"Really?''

"Yeah, I mean you've called me D-"

"Ah shut up." You covered his mouth the apples of his cheeks growing as he gently bit into your palm.

You blushed a little, man this guy can be such a tease sometimes.

He pulled your hand away from his mouth, continuing.

"Well, do it." He smiled, his blue eyes flickering form the movie that flashed by beside you two.

''You're my husband." you stated shyly blinking many times as you watched him clench his heart.

"Oh this hits right in the feels." he faked pain falling over onto your lap.

You laughed at his antics, if there's anyone that can difuse the feeling of embarrassment faster its this guy. He laid back on your lap, your hand wandering lazily in his hair, you smiled at him.

His hand reached over to your cheek he pulled you forward, his nose gently rubbing against yours he pressed a lingering kiss.

Katakuri

He's a rather secluded person so you mainly hanged out around his sister, Brulee was the sweetest older sister you could ask for always offering you tea and sweets her genuine heart never wavering. You two had an ongoing joke about her brother the two of you kept codenaming him ''husband'' so your conversations would usually go with her staring a conversation like this. "So y/n, how's the husband?" she chuckled her smile lighting up the room. "He's a delight really we went shopping the other day and let me tell you how hard it is to find something that he'd even remotely hate, he loves everything! I'm starting to think it's impossible to make him mad.'' you sighed, not that you had real intentions of getting the big giant mad, you just wanted to see if he'd ever change his character, no matter how long you were at the store trying on every piece of clothing to waste time, he sat patiently the large scarf covering his mouth he always waited for you with a warm smile giving his opinions on the outfits. Brulee smirked '' He's a very kind person so even I cant see him being unsupportive."

"I know right, its like everything he does always turns out to be even better than he intended!" you flailed your arms a slight frown forming on your brows. The door peered open a rather tall figure coming through he welcomed himself in with a smile, setting some sweet buns on the table, they steamed with a gnetle delicious scent of sesame , rice and hints of familiar mango filling.

"Thank you dear." you smiled to the man as he stepped forth to take off the large scarft, his pointy teeth always caught your gaze.

you continued your conversation with brulee,katakuri sitting by your side as he bit into the sweet bun.

The two of you kept speaking about a certain husband and he for the life of him couldnt understand to who were you reffering to with such familiarity.

''Who are you two talking about?'' he chewed the sweet looking between you two.

"You.'' you quickly replied continiuing your conversation with his sister until she stopped her eyes wide as she looked at you.

You had a quizzical expression on your face and then it clicked, your face flared up red with brulee watching the sweetest smile on her face, you avoided looking at katakuri to save your life.

No need to worry, the large man was barely able to continue eating his desert, a humble red spread over his ears he pinched the bridge of his nose for the longest time. It was for the longest time he thought you were talking about someone else every time you chatted with his sister he thought you were chatting about another man you had spotted wandering onto the island. Now it made sense to him, the words repeating in his mind he groaned setting the pastry on the table, he never pictured himself to be called that , he was barely able to get used to boyfriend so you tended to switch it up very often.

You cleared your throat watching the fluster on his face , your hand reached over to take his , you were met with a comfortable squeeze.

"You two will be the death of me." he sighed a large toothy grin over his face. The two of you were left a laughing mess offering him some tea as an apology for the long confusion along with the sudden surprise.

Zoro

He asked for you to sit on his back while he was working out, you hesitated at first thinking that he's going a little too far, he reassured you there's nothing to be afraid of as he can easily sling over 100 kgs without ease.

''If you say so.." He steadied himself into a plank waiting for you to find a comfortable place over him.

"Ready?"

''Yep." you popped the p feeling your balance loose itself as you held onto waist each time he neared the ground.

You couldn't hold your amusement, he was way stronger than you imagined, your weight seemed to barely affect him as he did his push ups with ease. ''15..16..17.." you counted in your mind your but flat against his lower back.

"Have you asked anyone else to do this while you train?'' you had to know, there's no way he'd be so comfortable with a whole human on his back like this.

"Yeah, I asked," he panted between pushes, you could feel each time his body took an inhale of breath. "Luffy, but he's so light it wasn't even a challenge." sweat dripped down his forehead onto the ground before him creating a little array of a puddle.

"Anyone else?''

He took his time answering this time focusing on his form before he spoke up again, the silence was pleasant, although you were a little worried reminding yourself as you rode on his back that he was still training.

" I think I asked Usopp after that, though he wasn't better than Luffy."

He breathed a little heavier taking some time to stop between curls, to steady his breathing.

"You alright? I can hop off if it's too much." you wondered not wanting for him to collapse with extra weight on him.

"Stay, you're good." he continued with a regained sense of will, crushing through the next 50 push ups.

You grew comfortable on his back having adjusted to the rhythm.

Your hands slid lower on his waist as you lowered your back against his, your concentrated weight now laying flat over him, your head on the back on his neck, just enough so it wouldn't bother him.

He puffed heavier reaching triple digits, his muscles slowly grew sore but he pushed through with a slight sense to impress you.

''Y/n , you up there? Is Zoro with you?'' Chopper asked under the stairs you responded loudly.

''Yep, my hubby's right here!'' there was a quick silence as Zoro's eyes widened under you, not that you could see.

''Okaay! Dinners gonna be ready soon!'' he informed before walking to do help out.

The weight shifted under you, his hand held you in place, as you leaned slightly to his right, he was doing single handed push ups.

"Hey, don't you think that's a bit extreme?'' you told him, as he continued to meet ground confidently.

''Nah." His hand held comfortably on your waist a while longer until he switched sides, the name lingering in his mind. A while later he was dripping wet, you could feel your own shirt soaking in his sweat he gestured you to hop off.

''Here." you handed him some water, he turned to his side his face not meeting yours he drank, chest rising with each sip you admired his well toned back with a silent whistle.

It surprised him, the feeling of your eyes on him made him a little shy, hince the reason he refused to turn around for so long.

You walked up to him, head leaning over his shoulders to have a look at his face. He had spaced out for a bit , a blush covering his upper face you smiled in awe.

''Yeoow, Tell your hubby to move it! Foods done!" you heard Franky call for you, Zoro's face eyes twitching at the mention of this nickname.

Your smile grew wider as you poked his face.

''Were you pulling those stunts because of me?'' you smirked making his eyes open to look at you with the blush on his face still wildly present.

"No.." he spoke softly, his crossed arms unwinding he slipped one around your waist with a serious yet pleading look.

''Don't tell anyone.." you chuckled silently at his words, resting your head on his shoulder.

''Come on, food will get cold.'' he guided you to head down, following closely as everyone greeted you.

During dinner you gave him a look, mouthing the nickname again, he ate his food not saying anything, the tips of his ears were red no matter how much he tried to deny it.

He liked the nickname despite the silence.

Sanji

''Sanji, come here a moment." You ushered the sweetheart over, he waltzed towards you with his signature spin stopping behind you to peer over what you were looking for.

A bunch of jewelry, shining red white, pink and blue all sorts of jewels shined under the display lights. "What's up? Do you need money?''

''Hmm no, give me your hand." you vaguely looked at his hand, his slim fingers flexing before you, a trail of smoke winding in the air.

You offered his hand to the jeweler he took measurements of his ring finger, whilst Sanji watched, if this was an idea for a gift this was the worst way to ask for a ring size, he could of just told you if you asked.

''8.5 centimeters miss." The shop keep informed you of the size.

''Thought as much, could i see the rings over there?'' you pointed under the display, Sanji curiously watching over your shoulder like a cat.

"Of course, for gifts we suggest these as they aren't that flashy and will accentuate the hands well." He smiled pulling out a ring form its holdings handing it over to you.

You turned Sanji's hand so his palm would face you your warm hand meeting with his rather cold and meek one.

"What's wrong Sanji? Your hands are cold." you asked watching him puff smoke in the shapes of hearts, his cheeks a brisk red.

"Hm? Oh I didn't think you'd be the type to buy men jewelry.'' He watched as you slipped the ring on his finger, a slim silver band sitting low on his finger it looked rather pretty but a little too slim for him.

You took it off clasping the metal you handed over it the shop keep.

"How about this one?'' you showed to a thicker ring, the polish on it shining beautifully.

"Good choice miss." he commented handing you the ring.

You took the cigarette from Sanjis lips between your middle and pointer finger holding the ring in your thumb and ring finger you slipped it on taking a slow drag from the white wrapped cigarette.

Sanji watched with deep curiosity, he loved when you did these subtle yet intimate things, his heart beat with a deep flame as he watched you puff out a streak of grey smoke. His lower lip slightly trembling at the sight.

"What do you think?'' You spoke calmly watching him gulp as his eyes wandered to the ring, he twirled it around with his thumb checking if it wasn't going to bother him whilst he was cooking.

''It's good, won't bother me if I wear it for a long time." You smiled taking on another drag of his cigarette. A pleasant smirk laying on your features as you thought about what you're going to say next.

''This isn't typically a thing to take off Sanji." you smiled brushing a hand over his cheek, the lit cigarette dangerously close to his face, protected by your hand.

His heart dropped at the mention.

''She doesn't m-mean.." he thought to himself. Your confident yet seductive gaze at him only confirmed his thoughts, he swallowed slowly, his face plastered in a red blush, you laughed.

''Is this a prop-proposal!?'' his eyes beat out of his face he practically shouted in the most excited way.

You chuckled sweetly, the shop keep blushing at the sight of you two.

''Well take this one then" You smiled handing him money. Your gaze towards Sanji you put a hand on his shoulder whispering.

''I might as well make you a husband, dear.''

Oh boy.. the red that ripped down his nose way quite something, you handed him a hanker chief dropping the cigarette on the nearby ashtray the shop keep kept, you laced your hand with his walking out the shop Sanji followed with a light stumble every now and then walking a few steps behind you as you lead him. His head was so ready to burst with all the imagines of the two of you holding a ceremony rose petals flying and everything.

''My those two are something." the shop keep chuckled watching an overly flustered male leave with his sweetheart in hand.

Smoker

Word seemed to get around around you and the cloudy vice admiral, because of his strict work nature and your dedication people started calling you the type to be married only to two things each other and work, the two of you never met much aside from when it was time to deliver some justice, men practically fangirled when the two of you appeared fighting along each other.

''What's wrong with all of you, there's work to be done!'' Smoker shouted to his underlings as you walked beside him.

''There she is, aren't they the best.." the guys swooned as you stood hands on your hips along Smoker, his cigars burning weak smoke you offered him a light, his face leaning to the fire you provided the guys waited in anticipation for something to happen.

''Got a problem guys?'' you smiled meanly, Smoker puffing on his cigars to light them fully.

''None at all!!'' they all waved their hands with sheepish smiles.

''This is getting a little out of hand.." he looked at you smoke puffing from his face.

''You don't say." you laughed, something you did only around him according to every fanboy out there.

''Look look she's smiling again'' they blushed, a vein popping on Smokers face from this foolery.

''Go do something you idiots!" he knew the rookies had nothing better to do but it beat oogling at you two every second they could.

'' I'm going to HQ if you need something you know where to find me." with the use of his devil fruit and a long streak of smoke he disappeared from your sights.

You chuckled closing the door to his office with your body, Smokers head deep into his papers.

"It's crazy out there." you stood there hand's behind your back as you leaned on the door. Smoker hummed listening to you. ''You don't think we should do something about this?'' you walked over to his desk sitting across him, the single cigar set down in the ash tray he finally pulled his head out of the mountains of papers before him.

''Why should we? It does nothing for us." he stated slicking back his hair you squinted at the sight.

"You enjoy being my fictitious husband that much?" you smiled watching his eyes slowly running over you face, a little shit eating grin plastered on your face, you subsided it once you saw his cheeks redden a little as he resumed his smoke hiding the embarrassment.

"You're kidding right?!'' he winced closing his eyes , a hand clenching under the desk. Just dont laugh, it wasn't supposed to come off this way, but there was no better way for him to answer.

''..'' He was silent as he opened his eyes staring at you through his brows.

It was your turn to return the blush, as you laid back on the chair placing a cold towel over your forehead.

''Those brats..'' you sighed pinching the bridge of your nose you rose your head letting the towel fall to your lap.

Once his work was done he decided to treat you to some tea in the lounge, the two of you passed by a couple of marines on your way, you calmly took his hand in your watching as one spit water behind you, you turned your head looking at them with a knowing smile. Smokers eyes glancing over at your hand he picked up the pace dragging you along a bit faster, you laughed turning your face back to the blushy vice admiral.

Eustass Kid

You watched as Kid toyed around his arm, tightening bolts and sautering wires it looked surreal to just think how it operated.

"Kid what do you think about marriage." you asked him out of the blue never approaching this topic with him before. The mean look on his face grew as he barked at you. " What marriage?! It's annoying to just think about it." Whilst true he had a lot on his plate in the current situation, he wanted to beat Kaido for beating his ass so badly the dumbest of reds showed on his face as he threw some bolts at you making you hide behind a flipped table.

"Get out, you're annoying!'' He puffed slamming his fist on the table, bolts creaking on his arm as he attempted to move it.

"Look at what you did!'' You checked his arm watching smoke and sparks come from it you chuckled a bit. ''You can fix that cant you?'' you pointed at it making him growl back, ''Of course, it's gonna take a shit ton of time because of you though." he held a mean glare toward you. ''Okay okay I get it, I'm sorry." you raised your hands in defeat watching him sigh.

'' Don't stand there, you're helping out now." he waited for you to come closer bringing over all sorts of random tools with you, the two of you worked for a long while, trying to fix all the errors you caused.

As much as he kept focusing on his work, his eyes sometimes wandered to your face watching how you inspected his work. The dumb glint in your eyes as you followed his each move broke the silence.

"I guess it can't hurt.." he admitted his ears a little red.

"Hm?'' you turned to took at him while he was avoiding your gaze with a little sweat dropping down his brow.

"Nothing, pay attention." he moved your face with the back of his knuckle, your side eye stared at his preoccupied thought filled expression, with a wide smirk you pushed his hand back with your face, the longer you stared the longer he stiffened up.

"What?'' his clad orange eyes peered down on you.

You smiled not saying a word.

''You'd make the finest fucking husband." you spoke up suddenly staring right at him with a wide smirk.

He rolled his head throwing it back before he snapped at you.

"GET OUT WILL YOU." he threw an oiled cloth at you watching you scatter out of his room with haste.

Hand over his mouth he stared long at his arm, his eyes wide without a sense of reality, the embarrassed blush covering his face he could no longer work on the repairs.

Shanks

''Hubby am i right on this ?" You were bickering with Ben for the longest time, the stubborn first mate would not bend under your will even if you bribed him with millions.

Shanks turned around with a cheeky look on his face he overheard the entirety of the conversation between you two, you were in the wrong however he wanted to mess around with something else first.

"Hubby?'' he asked whipping around the bar stool one leg over the other he laid his hand behind the counter in a rather confidant way.

"Come on Shanks who's right.'' you blurted out continuing to one over Ben whos scowl only grew the longer you didn't agree with him.

He watched with a glimmer in his eyes calling out your name.

"Hubby~" he smirked watching as you processed the information.

''Argh what the hell! Yes Ben your point is right! Shanks youre dead!" you stormed forward to the captian pinching his nose.

"I call you one silly nickname and you dont leave it alone." you scolded him watching him stifle a laugh as he pushed you to his side with his only arm.

You didn't look him in the face knowing he'd give you a shit eating grin.

"Let go!'' you peeled at his hands , his grip strong as he got in your face with a whisper.

"I refuse~" the gravel in his tone, along the way he looked at you, it was only a matter of time before you shot him a glance.

You looked over at him quickly regretting that instantly.

"There you are." the sultry tone in his voice never leaving as he leaned in his lips hovering just above yours, barely a touch.

He waits for you, with a small smile tugging on his lips. He was pleasantly surprised when you tugged on his collar a rather harsh kiss deepening against his.

Roger

You brought up the topic suddenly the hearty laugh form him was as much as when you did your usual babbling with him.

"Husband, me?'' he snorted between baited breaths.

You felt a little dumb standing in front of him as he laughed his large hat tipping on his head.

'Never hurts to try something once now does it?" He showed you a warm smile once his laughter stopped, you didn't expect him to be so agreeable to something like this.

''I cant figure out if you're serious or joking." you pouted as he guided you to the end of his ship.

''If you want the world, I'll get it for you.'' he clenched his first around thin air, right along your chest as he leaned into hug your shoulder, a bewildered stare darting between his face and hand you didn't even think about the possibility.

"I can't bring you a big ceremony, but if you want the life of a wanted criminal on your hands I can't go denying yours dreams now can I?''

''Guys prepare for a celebration!'' he shouted over his shoulder, every man standing at a halt.

''Your captains getting married!'' he wasted no time jumping assumptions.

"R-Roger wait, now?!'' you pushed a hand on his chest which he took into his with a knowing look.

"No time like the present no?'' He smirked, his teeth flashing in the bright sun.

He didn't even take time to consider something like this...

''I thought it over don't be stupid." Its like he read your mind, he pointed to his crew gazing down at you.

"They're a handful, but take care of them will you?"

"Like that's new.." you chuckled, still baffled by his words.

5K notes · View notes

mountttmase · 5 months

Text

Don’t Get Caught

Note - lil bit of cheeky dad Mase to round off our Monday. I hope you’re all good and I hope you enjoy this 🩷 smut has not been smutting for me in a while so let’s see 😂 feedback would be appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 3k

Warnings - smut

‘So it’s just a shed?’

‘No Mason, it’s not just a shed’ Declan huffed. Annoyed by Mason downplaying his new purchase that he was proudly showing the pair of you around. Not that you could see much as it was dark outside and for the most part his new summer house was just an empty shell bar some cupboards. ‘I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to wire the electrics so the lights work, then I’m getting a tv installed, a mini fridge, like you name and I’ll probably have it, it’s gonna be immense’

‘What does Lauren think of all this?’ You asked, shining your torch round so you could see more of the space but it really was a work in progress right now.

‘She’ll have her section too, don’t worry. And I’m getting her one of those outdoor sofa set things she’s always wanted to go by the hot tub outside, plus a new swing for Jude. They’ll love it’

You were about to ask another question when his phone began to ring, Lauren’s photo flashing up on the screen but the more she spoke the more displeased his face became until he was hanging up with a huff.

‘Ah for fucks sake, Madders has thrown up in the guest room, I need to go and kick his arse’ he sighed, his hand running over his face like he didn’t want to deal with it and you couldn’t say you didn’t blame him as you tried to hold in a laugh.

‘Sounds grim’ Mason chuckled, making his way over to you in the dark and holding you at your waist. ‘We’ll be back in soon, yeah? I just wanna have a look round a bit more’

‘Yeah yeah take your time, I’ll see you inside later’ Dec mumbled before leaving the pair of you alone. Watching him trudge back to the house with his shoulders slumped before you turned to Mason who you could just about make out in the dark.

‘Look round what, Mason? It’s a shed with a counter and a few cupboards’ you asked, turning in his grip and resting your hands on his chest as he pulled you closer and even in the dark you could see his pretty smile.

‘I don’t think Dec would be too happy if he heard you say that’ He laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully. ‘What do you think anyway? Would you like a summer house?’

‘Maybe’ you shrugged. Trying to imagine something similar in your own garden. ‘Would be fun to have movie nights with Ollie in something like this, like we could get blankets and those big bean bags things. Maybe some nice fairy lights so we can get all cozy’

‘You could also use it as somewhere when you need some time away from the boys’ he winked, pulling away from you as he took a better look around and it clicked in your brain that what he meant by it.

‘Oh I see, you just want it for you’ you laughed and he knew he’d been caught out as you heard him try to contain his giggles. ‘Come on, what would you have in here then?’

‘Well I’d get a tv definitely, and I like the idea of a mini fridge…’ Mason started but you didn’t listen to the rest of it. The thought of the three of you all snuggled under a blanket in something similar in your own home made your heart thump and the need to check Ollie was okay washed over you.

Ollie was at home with Lewis, the latter staying for a few days as he had a few appointments with Mason he needed to plan and it was always easier to do it when they were together rather than over the phone. Thankfully he was more than happy to look after Ollie for the evening so you and Mason could go to the joint birthday party that Dec was throwing at his house for the pair of them.

Lewis hadn’t texted and he was under strict instructions not to unless there was an emergency so the pair of you could have some time out, but you missed your little boy and you needed to check on him. Your finger hovering over the call button but before you could press it you felt Masons hands at your waist again.

‘Are you even listening to me?’ He laughed, shaking you slightly until you looked at him and you could tell from the look in his eye he knew what you were doing.

‘Sorry Mase’ you sighed, holding your phone to your chest as he pulled you closer. ‘I just wanted to check in and make sure Ollie is alright’

‘He’s probably asleep baby, Lewis knows what he’s doing’

‘I know, I just wanted to be sure’

‘Hand it over’ he smirked, laying his palm out flat for you to put your phone into but you just shook your head and held it closer to your chest.

‘No Mase it’s fine, I’ll keep it away’

‘Why don’t you turn it off?’

‘Yeah Mase, real sensible’ you laughed, rolling your eyes as you put it back in your bag as Mason placed a kiss on your forehead.

‘Come on, Ollie is fine. I know it’s weird being without him but why don’t we take our minds off it a bit?’ He shrugged, not picking up on the cheeky tone to his voice at the end but you were curious about what he was going to suggest.

‘How?’

‘You wanna play a game?’ He asked, backing you up against the cupboards just behind you and you let him do it until you couldn't move anymore. Your bum hitting the top of the counter and you looked up at him curiously.

‘Depends, what did you have in mind?’

‘A little one I like to call, don’t get caught’ he whispered whilst hiking you up to sit on the counter by your thighs. ‘Never played it before but I thought it might be fun’ he smiled as he squeezed your thighs. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all day’

‘Mason’ you warned but he just smiled and kissed you heavily. Knowing he pretty much always got his way in situations like this and your resolve would crumble soon enough.

‘Come on baby, I know you want to’ he teased before kissing you again and when Mason kissed you like this you knew exactly what it meant. ‘I haven't had you in days and I won’t be able to again for a while’

He was right. He’d been away for a few days for a game and tomorrow he’d be off again for a training camp so tonight was really the only time you had to be physical. You just thought it would come later on when the pair of you were in bed not outside in the middle of Decs new purchase.

‘You know I’ll make it worth your while, baby’ he whispered. Lips ghosting your jaw before he playfully bit your earlobe and when his kisses started to travel down your neck you felt your body turn to jelly.

‘Won’t everyone be able to see?’ You asked, looking towards the floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that were just to the right of you and you gulped nervously.

‘We can barely see each other, gorgeous. Don't worry I won’t let anyone see you, you’re for my eyes only yeah?’

‘Okay’ you whispered. Letting him kiss you again as you gave into his desires as in this moment you wanted him just as much.

‘I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget your own name, pretty girl’ he whispered against your lips and even though his sentiment made you smile you knew he meant it. When Mason had had a bit to drink his mouth tended to run away with him and when you were being intimate it was no different. This version of Mason liked to talk you through it. To pull the strings and tease you into oblivion until you were a mess beneath him and you knew if he got his way tonight you’d be in for a wild ride

Before you knew it, you felt his fingers trail over your thighs and under your dress. Gripping your bum so he could pull you forward and rest you just on the edge of the counter but thankfully it wasn’t very wide and you were able to lean back and rest against the wall as his fingers danced over the front of your underwear.

‘You can’t tell me you don’t tell me you don’t want this, you’re dripping for me’ he growled, fingers circling just where you needed them over your underwear and it only took a beat for you to start grinding your hips to meet his movements. ‘See, there we go. You know exactly what to do don’t you?’

You let him tease you a little while longer as he kissed you roughly but soon enough he was finally pushing your dress up higher and gripping the top of your underwear so he could pull them from your legs. The cold air hitting you and making you hiss before you could just about make out him stuffing the black lace into his back pocket.

‘Hands on my shoulders baby, need you to hold on tight yeah?’ He told you, hearing him pull down the zip on his trousers and shuffle his boxers about just enough to free himself and you clenched around nothing in anticipation of what you were about to do.

As soon as you felt his tip pushing against your entrance his lips were on yours. Swallowing your moans as he eased himself into you slowly but you were surprised about how easy it was since there was no foreplay involved and you were just getting straight down to business.

He still took his time though. Moving slowly in and out of you so you could both adjust and the small whimpers and moans falling from both of your lips just egged the other on until your brain was foggy with pleasure.

‘Remember when we first met, you told me you were a good girl’ he spoke against your lips before kissing along your jaw softly. ‘I’m not so sure i believe you anymore’

‘I’m a good girl for you’

‘And only me, right?’ he sighed, resting his forehead on yours as he kept his pace steady. ‘You’re mine, and you’re always gonna be mine’

‘Masey’

‘What is it baby? What does my good girl want?’

‘Harder please’ you whimpered, wanting him to lose control a little bit as you knew he was holding back until you were comfortable but you were ready to have all of him now.

‘Yeah? You think you can take it’ he asked, hands grabbing your wrists so he could tug them away from his shoulders and before you knew it he had your wrists crossed above your head. Holding them together with one hand so they were against the wall whilst his other hand gripped your waist to hold you still. His hips picking up pace just like you wanted him to and you let a loud moan slip past your lips.

‘So fucking innocent but just look at you. Begging for me like this’ he growled, his words making your tummy flip but you couldn’t answer as he moved his hand to rest on your lower stomach before applying a little pressure. You knew he could feel himself inside of you from the profanities that were falling from his lips but the new sensation had rendered you speechless as your eyes rolled back in your head.

‘You love that I’m fucking you in here don’t you, I bet you want the whole world to see’ he grunted. His thumb now moving back to circle over you as he still applied pressure to your tummy and you almost screamed from how good you felt. ‘Want everyone to know how good I give it to you and how good you can take it’

‘Mase, please’ you cried, so overwhelmed with everything he was giving you that they were the only two words you could remember right now but he just carried on snapping his hips back and forth deliciously.

‘Thats it, say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this good’

You felt Masons hand move away from you, giving you a bit of needed relief as you felt like you were about to explode but you saw him reaching into the back pocket of his jeans until he pulled out his phone.

‘Mase? W-what are you doing?’

‘Shhhh it’s okay. I just need it, need to remember what you feel like when I’m away next week’ he stuttered. ‘My eyes only, remember? You trust me?’

‘With everything’ you whispered back. Recording each other was something you’d never done before but you couldn’t deny the idea made your tummy flutter and you did trust him. He was your husband and the father of your child after all but even though this new idea scared you slightly it also thrilled you.

‘Good girl’ he chuckled, smiling as he placed a reassuring kiss to your lips, promising again it was just for him before he pointed the camera down to where the pair of you met started to record himself slipping in and out of you. The whole act turning you on more than you thought it would and the moans that left your lips were sinful.

‘Look at you, can’t get enough can you?’ he whispered, looking up to see his face slightly illuminated from the light on his phone and the first thing you noticed was how wild his eyes were. ‘You feel so unreal’

‘Masey, I’m so close’

‘I know gorgeous’ he whispered. Shutting his phone off so you were both in darkness again and his free hand returned to your waist to hold you still. ‘I need you to hold it for me though yeah? Just for a minute, okay?’

‘Mase’

‘I know I know, I’ll make it worth your while though, I promise’ he told you. Finally lowering your arms back onto his shoulders so he could get a better grip on you and your fingers got lost in his hair as he rested his forehead on yours again. ‘Just wait for me, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you whimpered. Trying your best to hold off but it was difficult and the way Mason was moaning into your mouth didn’t make it any easier.

‘That’s my girl’ he grunted, eventually hiding his face in your neck so he could focus on reaching his high but as the seconds went on you felt like you were about to explode as his lips connected with your sweet spot.

‘Go on baby, let go for me’ he told you, keeping his pace steady until your high rippled through you. Letting him continue to talk in your ear until he was softly biting your shoulder as he came undone himself.

It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of your breathing mixed together as you caught your breath with your heads hidden away from each other but soon enough he was looking back up at you with a shy smile on his face.

‘That video, I can delete it if you want me too. I just got caught up in the moment I’m not sure what came over me’ he chuckled. Tucking some stray hairs behind your ear before kissing your forehead softly.

‘No it’s okay, you can keep it. As long as it gets hidden somewhere’

‘Really? You don’t mind?’

‘Well I prefer the thought of you watching me rather than random people on a weird website’ you laughed, cupping his jaw so you could place a gentle kiss on his lips before he quickly grabbed his phone again.

‘It’s gone straight into my hidden, yeah?’ He showed you, using the Face ID to show you its new home and you blushed as you caught sight of the multiple pictures of you in your underwear he also kept in that folder. ‘Under lock and key along with all my other naughty photos of you’

‘You’re terrible’ you laughed, your breath catching as he finally slipped out of you but he was quick to kiss you again before he readjusted himself and did his trousers back up.

‘And you are the love of my life. Thank you for playing along’

‘Let’s just hope Dec doesn’t find out what we’ve done’ you laughed, letting him help you down onto the floor as he adjusted your dress but your legs were still shaky for your high and you had to grip Mason’s arm for support. ‘Can I have my underwear back now?’

‘I’ll think about it’ he winked and with one final kiss you made your exit and rejoined the rest of the party.

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letorip · 3 months

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Which of Jenna’s characters do you think would be the clingiest? (I loved your headcannons ❤️)

most clingy

this was a very wholesome one to think about, i had great fun. thank you the anon who submitted this. same deal as last time, if you're tl;dr my take is at the bottom

wednesday addams:

she likes to put up a tough front of needing nobody and desiring to be alone, but once she falls for you, it's as bad as morticia and gomez

you live in a room on the other side of campus, and she's made it a habit of sneaking to your room almost every night. she scales the fucking dangerous, rickety old roof to get there each time, but she'll do it, because she'll get to sleep with you

sometimes it's to sleep with you, if you catch my not-so-subtle drift, and then other times it's because she wants to sleep with you

of course, she'll disguise it as "my room has broken air conditioning" or "enid is snoring," and you just smile, nod, and lift the sheets for her to get in

she's not a huge cuddler in the sense that she wants to lay directly on you, but she wants to be around, in the same bed

you do this almost every night, and if you don't, she's knocking on your door right when people are let out of their rooms in the morning to hang out (or make out) before breakfast starts

she's virtually moved in with you, at this point. she has a toothbrush in your bathroom, several outfits in your dresser (in her own drawer), and she leaves dead animal skulls and occult books around to "liven up the place." they definitely don't match your pre-existing decor, but you don't mind because it's wednesday

she's not super fond of pda of any sort, but she'll definitely be right by your side when you're hanging with mutual friends. she'll hold hands under the table or kiss you when there's a private moment, but she's not all over you physically when other people are staring at you both

she does definitely get super jealous

she'll make little comments like "bianca seemed friendly" or "divina finds you awfully funny." if you're tutoring someone in the library, guess who will also miraculously be at the library at the same time? sitting in a chair with a perfect angle of the table you're at and peeking over the top of her book

wednesday is almost always with you, because you're one of the few people she trusts and longs to frequently be with

tara carpenter:

you live with tara and sam, so it makes sense that you and tara slowly grow closer and closer until you start dating

she absolutely loves to have at least one point of contact with you whenever she can. she'll lean against you, lean her head on your shoulder, wrap an arm around you, just let your shoulders touch, or when she really wants to, she'll leave a hand on your knee

when you’re both watching a movie, she’ll cuddle up against your chest and start to fall asleep there, especially if it’s one she’s seen before. you turn the movie off but don’t move, because if you do tara will wake up

during the events of scream vi or any time there’s a ghostface threat levied towards her or sam, she’s especially attached to you. she doesn’t sleep as well and refuses to leave your side, as she’s paranoid ghostface will come to take you from her

you assure her that you’re okay and she can sleep, grabbing her hand and squeezing it three times (i. love. you.). it calms tara down a bit, and though she’s still worried and makes sure the apartment is locked and you’re all safe, it helps her sleep

when things calm down again, she’s not super clingy in the sense that she’s always with you. you’re both in college and have your own classes, and though she wants you near, you both can function as separate people. it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to be with you, but your work and school keeps you both a bit more apart during the day

you both text frequently though, not because she doesn’t trust you and wants to be on top of you, but because it’s just nice to hear from you and you both love talking to each other. she’ll send you photos of cute dogs she sees on instagram or a reel she finds funny with a little note at the bottom that says ‘hope your day is going well <3’

tara does get rather jealous at parties. it’s not your fault you’re hot, but when other people approach you to “talk,” 9 times out of 10 you’re too oblivious to realise you’re being hit on

she’ll walk right over to the conversation you’re having with someone random and duck under your arm to wrap it around her shoulders. if that doesn’t work, she also has the tactic of narrowing her eyes, or if she’s feeling especially bold, just grabbing your wrist and dragging you away to shove you down on some random bed

people know in general not to fuck with tara when it comes to you. in a way it makes you her weak spot, but she will absolutely raise hell and stab whoever she needs to, in order to make sure you’re okay

shes definitely a cuddler. she’ll drag you back into bed and wrap an arm around your torso and hold you there. sam always wrinkles her nose whenever she walks past you both cuddled up against each other on the couch after a long day

lorraine day:

you meet lorraine as an actor in the adult films, when she’s still with RJ. it causes a bit of drama when she leaves him for you, but once you and her are officially together she never ever wants to leave your side

it even means she starts acting in them herself, and the best part is that with you, it’s not even really acting. she loves every minute and how free you make her feel, and because she feels it strongest while in your presence, she chases after it all the time

she’s a giant hugger, wether it be side hugging, or wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, to rest her head on your shoulder and watch whatever thing you’re doing

lorraine is so in love, and with you it’s a sweetness that shoots up her veins like heroin. you both eat together, sleep together, work together, and travel together

you always travel together except for once, when you had to go check on your father as his health declined. it was two states away and you went alone, because lorraine was due to keep shooting with jackson, maxine, and bobby-lynne. the entire time you were away after the filming wrapped, she stared out the damn window over the hill, waiting for you to pull up in your truck

it wasn’t long enough a time that she could’ve written a letter, but she felt like a soldier’s wife craving your call

when you got back she ran out to meet you and jumped into your arms. you twirl her around with a laugh and she’s crying into your hands and kissing your palms and then kissing you.

you laugh and say “lorraine, it’s been three days,” but she shakes her head and kisses you again. she’s so happy you’re home you go AT it that night, to the point where wayne knocks on your door to tell you to quiet down

she’s wanted to marry you since the minute she met you, and she tells you as such, even though it’s been a bit over a year

she doesn’t get super jealous, just because she knows fucking other people is just what you do for work. it feels different for you both, when you’re alone and when you’re in front of the camera. you’re both comfortable with yourselves and your relationship, and it’s the comfort she’s always wanted

i’m thinking of hourglass by catfish and the bottlemen, i think that song describes it perfectly

you’re always together, in your own perfect little version of heaven, and while it’s not clinginess from jealousy, it’s clinginess from love and being happy

cairo sweet:

cairo is not clingy whatsoever

not in the sense that she couldn’t give a fuck about you— though she definitely attempted to push that narrative at first— but in the sense that she knows she’s the best and she knows you’re both so incredibly solid. if anything, being apart makes seeing each other even better

she’s a romantic and a rich romantic at that, so whose to say she won’t go on a vacation for a few weeks without warning and then reappear at school for you to ask her where she went

part of her enjoys creating a mystery for you, and making you chase her. she likes the thrill of it, and in a weird way it shows that you care about her enough to find out where she’s been or what she’s doing. it’s somewhat refreshing, considering her parents are so careless and you care so much

she does get jealous when she sees you with other kids. you’re just as intelligent as she is, and you give tutoring advice and run several clubs, so there are always kids who need to speak with you. she knows it’s just part of your role on campus, but it does irk her a bit when she sees you talking to pretty girls who are all too suddenly interested in correcting their math test

most nights between you both are spent at her home, tangled up. she likes to drink wine, but you stay away from alcohol. that doesn’t mean you won’t kiss it off her lips, though

you both are avid readers, so sometimes she’ll lean against you while you both read separate books and sit in silence. it’s peaceful, and cairo always thought she’d want some whirlwind forbidden romance, which is why she’s so surprised she likes the quiet domesticity

she’s definitely somewhat a fan of showy pda in certain situations. she’ll sit on your lap in between classes and wrap an arm around your shoulders, and who’s to say the girl who she caught staring at your lips yesterday wouldn’t come around the corner at the same time to see you there

she makes it perfectly clear she doesn’t depend on you, though. you both exist as separate people. she finds couples joined at the hip as “vapid” and “full of braggadocio.” of course, she’s proud of her relationship with you, but cairo also values her independence and separation

not that many people were even aware you were together officially, until a good three months in. you would argue (flirt) in class during socratic seminars, but most kids thought you both genuinely hated each other

for what it’s worth, you enjoy cairo for all her cairo-isms. it may be cringe to other people, but you do fundamentally understand her in a way no one else really does, just because of how open and honest she is with you. it was a struggle for her at first, but she does appreciate you for it

another one down. really tried to stick to clingy but it definitely branched out to other stuff too because i think there are definitely many ways to be clingy. clingiest, i would say would be lorraine, with tara not falling far behind

#answered #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #letorip #cairo sweet x reader #lorraine day x reader #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x reader

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soullessdianthus · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝!𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

A/N: I picture him in his early 40s in this, daddy is a state of a mind, no? Can you imagine having such an older man as König taking care of you? UNDER THE SAME ROOF??? I WOULD UGH-- (´ཀ`」 )

Also, my requests are open again! You can send it here!

Warnings: manipulation, slight yandere?, naive!reader, dear jesus bunch of nasty smut (voyeurism, somnophilia, fingering, spanking, daddy kink)

Poorly translated German, correct me if needed!

RENDER BY DWISESZ ON TWITTER

✧°. König’s schedule throughout the months was irregular. Sometimes he would stay at home for a few weeks and then go on a three month deployment. Another couple of days at home and another “work trip”.

✧°. And his home was left behind unattended, food in the freezer going to waste, dust covering his favorite armchair. König had a guest bedroom, so why wouldn’t he rent the spare room to someone, who would keep an eye on the house while he’s gone?

✧°. The price and location was tempting, so you reached out to the landlord for more details – you were a college student, who wanted something more independent than living with her parents.

✧°. König took a quick look at your profile picture and accepted the deal, because girls like you shouldn’t cause any problems, right? No parties, no boys invited over. You seemed to be a well behaving girl.

✧°. But his struggles only truly started when you finally moved in. König would find the return to the house more thrilling than ever.

✧°. To show your gratitude to the man who took you in, you kept the house clean with no sign of dust or webs. On a regular basis you were baking cakes or cookies, so the aroma of the pastry filled the rooms. Little did you know that it only fed the housewife fantasy of your landlord.

✧°. König would take less hours at his work and preferred to fill the reports (or any other documentation) from the home office. Just so he could observe you shuffling through the house wearing those sweat or biking shorts. Skimpy material rolling up the curve of your plump, young ass.

✧°. Each time you passed the living room where he was working, you sent him a cute smile. You were just trying to be polite!

✧°. König would try to spend as much time with you as possible, even if that meant you weren’t able to finish your homework on time. :( You would watch some movies together or go grocery shopping. Quickly this thing between the two of you became more than just landlord and tenant dynamics. Although you were quite clueless, it was your first ever rental!

✧°. One evening, when you came back from late classes, you saw him sitting on a couch holding a glass of beer. Large thighs spreaded open as he kept watching the football game on the TV. And before you knew it, König pulled you onto his lap. He wanted you to watch the game with him!

✧°. “Sit nice and pretty here, ja?”

✧°. He pulled you so roughly against him, that you had to prop against his muscular chest, before your face was pushed into it.

✧°. “König, but I have to –”

✧°. “Sush, none of that. Now, show some gratitude to your host, schatzi.”

✧°. König certainly had more than one beer that evening, but you had none of the alcoholic beverages. You were highly aware when he started rubbing your hip and thigh and found it… really nice. Although, nothing more! It was just a friendly gesture, right?

✧°. You were so oblivious to his attraction towards you that his hardened length underneath your ass was a pair of keys in your naive mind.

✧°. Later that night, when you fell asleep in your bed (technically his), wearing only a shirt and panties, he came into your bedroom and jerked himself off right by your bedside.

✧°. König could only imagine how your pretty lips would wrap around his fat shaft, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. And do you know what fueled that imagination? You sucking on a cherry lollipop right in front of him earlier that day.

✧°. During the next week, he kept peeping at you when taking a shower or changing your clothes with the doors kept ajar. How silly of you, standing just in sight of such a perverted man as König.

✧°. It would only fuel his fantasies, when he continuously pumped his hips into his own palm covered in precum and his spit. König’s cock would twitch each time, when he imagined how divine it would finally feel to fuck your tight pussy sensless. His special, little guest.

✧°. König would welcome you with open arms, when you came back from the university one day, crying, because you didn’t pass one of your classes. But you were working so hard and you felt poorly about yourself now! :(

✧°. He would offer you to lay on a couch with him until you calmed down and you accepted, because König was such a good landlord!

✧°. You didn’t even protest when this innocent act of affection turned into dirty desires. He laid beside you, one hand stroking your wet cheek and the other wandering under your panties.

✧°. You gasped loudly, when he slid one finger inside of you, explaining to you it will help you relax. It shouldn’t, but it felt so good! You wanted to press your eyes together in shame, but König patted you cheek with his hand.

✧°. “Hey, hey, look at me, schätzchen. Yeah, that’s right, you feeling better now, yes?”

✧°. And you nodded your head, thoughts focused on that pleasurable feeling between your legs, when he added a second finger.

✧°. König wouldn’t talk much about what you two did on the couch, but he definitely became more open about his desires. Since you allowed him to fuck you with his fingers, König would place his big hands all over his precious roommate – shoulders, hips, thighs or a playful slap on the ass, when you were removing the cookies from the oven.

✧°. One night, you came back really late (definitely after the curfew) and really drunk. He had to help you walk to your bedroom, because you were stumbling all the time, you could have hurt yourself in that state!

✧°. You mumbled that you wanted to sleep, when König removed your clothes gently (only leaving you in your lacey, pink panties). He couldn’t believe how lucky he got, when you clung to his chest, searching for stability (in his eyes it was a reach for his attention).

✧°. König helped you get into your cozy bed and slipped under the covers beside you. This time, he didn’t need to do much as your drunken form quickly found the way to his bulky chest. You nuzzled your spinning head onto his warm body and dozed asleep.

✧°. König had to take a few deep breaths, when your plump, naked breasts got squeezed between your and his chest. He didn’t want to jerk off right then, perhaps, you might help him, when you wake up?

✧°. The next time you wanted to go to a club or simply for drinks with your friends, he stood there in the hallway with a strong hand placed onto the doors. König wasn’t letting you anywhere, you were supposed to spend time with him! :(

✧°. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

✧°. “Oh, like the last time? When you pulled me into your bed, schatzi? Naked?”

✧°. Your extremely tall and large landlord scolded you, twisting slightly the truth about your drunken state. But it was for your own good, why would you seek fun out there, when you had him in the reach of your hand?

✧°. Despite your age difference, older and more experienced König would definitely take his time with you.

✧°. “I–I…”

✧°. You let go, as embarrassment burned like a flame inside, then furiously went back to your room.

✧°. Later, König would come to you and offer a bear hug, which you politely accepted, because he was your good host. But still was a bit mad at him for refusing to let you have fun outside the house.

✧°. Soon enough, when he went for another deployment, you split on unclear terms. The colonel noticed you began acting bratty, disrespecting his house rules. But nonetheless left the home in your hands.

✧°. When he came back, unexpectedly a few days earlier, you were still at university. You were such a smart girl. <3

✧°. König couldn’t help himself but to rummage through your stuff. He sniffed your currently worn pajamas, looked at your books and then he opened the drawer with your underwear. To his surprise one specific object caught his attention. Could this be…?

✧°. You were surprised to see his massive, trekking shoes on the shelf, when you returned home that evening. You were even more surprised, when you noticed your landlord sitting in his armchair, playing with something between his thick fingers.

✧°. “My, my… I leave for a few weeks and you already behave so… shamelessly. I thought of you better, schätzchen.”

✧°. “I–I don’t know, what your talking about, I–”

✧°. OhmyGod

✧°. He was holding your bullet vibrator that was so small in his grasp!

✧°. “You didn’t even bother to hide this thing.”

✧°. He lied on purpose, but you played along that lie. Perhaps, because you were so embarrassed that he found your toy! How could you be so silly and leave it on display?

✧°. You rushed to take it out of his grasp, but he acted quicker than you. König pulled you into his wide lap, forcing you ass in the air. The hem of your tennis skirt rolled up, exposing your bum to your landlord!

✧°. “Seriously, a toy, schatzi? Were you really this needy? Maybe that’s why you failed your class, hm?”, he mocked your vulnerability.

✧°. Before you could even explain yourself to him, a loud smack echoed in the living room and a stinging pain on your bare ass blinded your thoughts. König continued to spank your plump bum until it turned red and you were sobbing incoherently.

✧°. He said disappointedly, “And I thought you were a grateful guest… All I did was for your good, you know that?”

✧°. He rubbed your irritated flesh for a minute, before continuing the punishment. König licked his lips, already knowing how you would show him how much you missed your caring landlord.

✧°. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, ja?”

✧°. “YES! Yes, I will! ‘m sorry!”

✧°. You agreed, face flustered in shame, when you felt how wet your panties had become. The Austrian bear lifted you up from his lap and made you straddle his large bulge, pressing onto the fabric of his cargo pants.

✧°. “Ride daddy nicely and I might forgive you, okay? Do you remeber what I told you, when you moved in? If you ever need anything, come to me. You’re a smart girl, you know I’m gonna take care of you, no?”

✧°. “Y-Yes, König. I know.”, you sobbed, his big palm wiping your tears away.

✧°. Quickly you forgot about all of his alarming and obsessive behavior, when he filled you with his fat cock. The delicious feeling of him stretching your little pussy, dwarfed all of your worries.

✧°. He was merciless that night, König didn’t even give you time to adjust to his size. Colonel’s strong hands gripped your hips and guided them to start moving. So you swayed your hips under that slutty skirt, you bought just for him. <3

#konig mw2 #konig cod #konig #konig x reader #könig mw2 #könig cod #könig x reader #König #perv!könig #perv!konig #perv!roommate!König

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