Biker Ghost? Biker Ghost.

Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use

Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex

note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"

Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring. 

You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.

Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances. 

Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees. 

And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm. 

Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.

It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.

———————————————————————

You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove. 

Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.

There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.

“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.

One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”

You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.

Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.

“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”

You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”

He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”

He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.

He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.

“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”

“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”

“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”

You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”

“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”

He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”

You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.

Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”

You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs. 

He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”

The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.

It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”

You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”

He smirks, “Nope.”

John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”

“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench. 

“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.

“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”

Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”

Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”

You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”

He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.

———————————————————————

You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.

Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.

You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”

“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!” 

That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”

Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.

You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips. 

Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.

“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”

“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.

“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.

“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”

He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”

You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”

You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”

You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”

It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”

“She tight, Johnny?”

You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.

There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.

Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.

“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”

You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses. 

“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”

“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”

Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”

You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier. 

The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you. 

You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 

The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.

“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.

“Me too, bonnie.”

He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.

“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.

It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”

You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours. 

“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”

Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.

Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”

You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”

Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.

He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.

You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.

You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.

———————————————————————

You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”

He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in. 

“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”

You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”

“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”

It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.

Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.

It doesn’t make the wait any easier.

You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.

“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”

The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.

“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.

On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.

Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely. 

The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.

He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”

And, well, who are you to disobey?

You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.

“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”

“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”

“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”

“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”

“Yes, yes…”

“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”

“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”

He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.

When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.

“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.

“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Alright. Need any help tonight?”

“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”

You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”

A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner. 

———————————————————————

You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.

“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”

You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.

You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.

You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.

Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth. 

You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.

“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”

You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.

He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.

Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state. 

So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.

‘𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭!’

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! period sex, vampire!choso, oral (choso eats you out on your period), some fingering, thumb in ass, praise, slut used once, daddy/mama, pussy drunk/cock drunk/hints of mindbreak/overstimulation, light dacryphilia, squirting, creampie, choso is a lil cocky in this one cause he knows he is rocking your coochie

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 MY FEELINGS, cause if these leaks are true I'm crying, Imma make myself feel better with choso smut

Fey: @maxellera the speed at which I wrote this, the way this consumed my body soul and cookie coochie 😫

Choso softly licks your puffy sore clit eliciting a whine from you as you twist your hips away. You’re trembling, tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt dripping cum and blood onto the soft fluffy towel.

He sweet croons, “One more princess please you taste so good.” You spread your legs, and grab onto the pillow trying to brace yourself. When he gently spreads your lips apart to admire your beautiful soaking wet cunt.

“Good girl, you look beautiful crying with your legs spread apart like a slut. I can't think about anything other that what I want to do to your pretty lil’ cunt.” Choso kisses your clit and lips, gliding his tongue into bloody cunt with a loudly groan.

Choso slowly strokes your sensitive clit the perfect pressure pressure. You’re quivering, moaning, toes curling with your sloppy wet cunt clenching his soft tongue. “‘S too good! Daddy!” Your cheeks burn and your heart pounds a little faster when he pulls away.

Choso sits up with a cocky smirk that looks hotter bloody. “Is your soft wet n tight cunt daddy’s?” He nudges two thick fingers into your soaking wet cunt. “Hear her sqeuchling? I think she’s answering for you.”

“All yours’ daddy! Wanna be yours.” Choso pulls his thick fingers out, smearing your blood onto his cock. He grabs your hip with his clean hand flips you over and pulls your ass in the air.

Choso swipes his hard cock between your soft lips and you push your hips back taking his fat veiny cock. His jaw drops with a beautiful deep moan, “Fuucckme lil mama! Nnn! That’s it, fuck your sloppy wet cunt on ya daddy’s thick cock.”

Rocking your hips faster taking his cock with deep fast strokes. “Nnn daddy please! You feel so good, I love my daddy’s thick cock ‘s much.” Choso groans as he admires the way your lips tug when you pull away. Your sloppy wet cunt looks so good split open by his bloody pale cock.

The sight is consuming him as he forgets to let you move. Tightly grabbing your hips and meeting your thrust back with a harsh rut. If not for his grasp you would bounce forward and hit your head on his headboard.

“Nnn lil’ mama you’re too warm and wet, fuck ‘s too much! Nnn! I wanna cum in both your holes. Your sweet little asshole is so tempting.” He pulls on your cheek, swirling a bloody thumb over your soft hole.

He moans, “I wanna fill you up in every way I can, plug you up so you can walk around with my cum inside you.” He glides his thumb in slowly, You’re making me a pervert, I’m becoming obsessed with watching your lil holes stretch to take me.” He probs up one leg and the strokes start hitting deeper.

His hard fat cock is too much for your sensitive cunt. It’s perfect you can’t think of anything else. Every single worry fucked out of your head as you cry into his pillow.

Grabbing your hair and yanking your head back. “Don’t muffle yourself lil mama, it gets me off hearing you moan knowing that I'm making your sweet lil cunt feel so good there isn't a thought in your pretty head.”

His balls are hitting your clit as he fucks you from behind. Your cheeks jiggling with each deep fast stroke. “Nnnn I'm gonna fuck ya into a cum filled princess who needs her daddy’s help 'cause she can't walk.” Gushing on this thick cock, your thighs tremble and your cunt is quivering over him sending Choso over the edge.

Warm thick cum fills your cunt up but he doesn't stop as he fucks you harder. Fucking his cum deep into your needy soaking wet cunt. “Sweet lil mama you're getting too tight! It feels too good! Fuck! I can't stop! Don't wanna stop! Wanna keep feeling your soft hot cunt soaking and squeezing my cock.”

all work

price getting hurt on a mission and you have to help bandage him up as he tries not to lose consciousness. he gets so loopy from the blood loss he starts to expose his inner thoughts, calling you pretty and how often he thinks about you. “mmm y’smell s’good, love,” he mumbles aimlessly, slurring his words slightly. his fingers running through your hair as you work on his bullet wound, his voice barely a whisper “fuckin’ torturing me.” and you’re not sure if he means because you're hurting him physically or something else entirely.

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

pairing. simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader.

synopsis. simon comes home. he's too tired to fuck you right. eventually, he manages to find the energy.

warnings. 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy or use ai on my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving penetration, blonde simon lol, somnophilia, dry humping, pussy smacking, and crying during sex. i am not responsible for your media consumption.

an. :) life sucked so i found a new animated character to obsess over. please comment & reblog if u enjoyed !

When Simon comes back, he’s dog-tired.

As soon as his feet touch the welcome mat of your quaint little apartment, he feels all of his muscles relax – as if they’re unpinning themselves from his bones – and he has to give himself a pep talk to muster the energy to drag his hand up to ring the bell.

But he doesn’t have to, because you’re ripping the door open – shining like the sun – and pulling him into your body, rendering all 6,4 ft and 240 pounds of the super soldier to complete mush.

For five minutes, you don’t speak. Just hold him, as you gently rub the corner of his jaw, and brush your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. He clutches you to him.

His fat, paw-like hands hold your upper back, and you hold him with the same vigour. His body – wrapped in his black compression shirt and army pants – is rock solid.

It’s a weaving of muscles that have been tensed for the last two months. It’s going to take a minute for them all to soften, but like he always does when he’s been away, Simon lets out a deep and resolute sigh.

The breath warms your neck, causing it to tingle, and you grasp him tighter, your body waking up.

It’s been a long two months.

He manages to push your intertwined bodies through the doorway, using his boot to kick the door shut. His house smells like home -- funny how you can’t smell it until you’ve been gone a while.

Vanilla and a citrus fruit, mixed with the savoury scent of his favourite meal. He hums again, and you scratch the back of his head, sending shivers down his locked spine.

He knows the route to your bedroom like the back of his hand, and he maneuvers the pair of you inside.

The curtains are closed and the bed is made. You know him. You know him so well.

You let him push you back onto the bed – a blur of familiar limbs and hair – and he settles lower, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Immediately, you drag your legs up and cross them over the curve of his ass.

You’re all warm and soft and pliable. Dressed in a pair of simple cotton shorts and a vest top, he wants to grab fistfuls of you and remind himself of how you feel in his palms. Wants to drag his lips over your skin, bully his way between your legs and remind himself of how you taste.

Fuck, he wants you, in a carnal, almost primal sort of way, and you the same. He can smell it. A sweet but sweaty longing that melts from you and causes his senses to wake.

But he’s so God damn tired.

You know. Know this routine. Know that he has to settle back in.

In the meantime, you’ll just have to wait.

You fiddle with his hair. “There’s dinner if you want it,” you whisper into the dark bedroom, looping the strands between your fingers, committing the soft feel to memory.

Simon shuffles just an inch on top of you, but still, the slight movement of his clothes and hard, clenched body against yours makes you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

It’ll be chewed raw by the time he has enough energy to take you. He grunts something into your skin, and after a second, you gather it’s, tired.

His scent clouds you.

When Simon comes back, he always smells the same.

The soap at the barracks is pine scented – shampoo a strict lemon.

But there’s always a leftover grit to him. A hidden layer the soap can’t clean off, and it makes you delirious. Makes you flex your ass up – just an inch, a sweet, gentle inch that has you feeling the hard lines of his thighs and the metal of his zipper, and Simon’s breathing hitches.

You freeze. With your hips pushed tight against his, you stare at the ceiling, hoping that your worn-out soldier hasn’t felt you move.

Simon stays quiet. His breathing settles. You go to apologise, but Simon doesn’t grumble or make a sly comment. Listening closer to his breathing, you gather that he’s asleep.

Jesus, you think, that’s a record. Barely in the door and he’s asleep, he must be burnt out. Figuring that you won’t be able to crawl from under his weight, you decide it’s your bedtime too.

Sleep comes fast.

Hours later, you blearily blink awake. Not much has changed – the room is still dark, Simon is still heavy on top of you, yet now, you’re sticking to him with sweat.

He’s usually a human furnace, but this is different.

Your skin prickles, vibrating at a frequency that has nothing to do with heat. No, this is…you feel a pulsating between your thighs, and wiggle, feeling your slick coating your underwear.

Fuck, why are you so wet? You clench, and the resulting ache forces you to hiss and push your head back against the pillows. What did you dream about? Thinking back, you come up short. Then why--

Simon shuffles on top of you. It’s a slight movement, but it continues, and all at once, your heart clenches.

Holy fuck, he’s—

“Simon?” you whisper, and your boyfriend whines into your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes, the words wet and desperate. The puzzle pieces lock into place.

He knocks his hips into your crotch once more, and you gasp, clenching, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Simon’s apology comes out again, except this time, it’s christened with a “s-shit – fuck.”

Blinking at the ceiling, you huff and try and glance down, and in the dark, you just about manage to see the outline of his burly body grinding into yours.

You take stock of the situation.

Feel his fat palm around your hip, and squinting, see that he’s got your shorts pulled down around your thighs, and has the band of your underwear looped around his fingers.

Jesus Christ. You fall back into the pillows. “How long have you?” you whisper. “Five – fuck – minutes,” Simon grunts, continuing to roll his thick hips against you. His bulge knocks the edge of your throbbing clit, causing you to gasp again. There’s been no build-up to your want, it’s just there, humming electric, and spread tight over your thighs.

Simon meshes his wet mouth against your chest. He’s tugged your vest top down, too, and his lips close around the skin of your breast. Jesus. He was undressing you as you slept.

“Thought about fuckin’ you, but couldn’t get my pants down, so – shit -- tired. Jus’ woke up and you were just so fuckin’ soft. And wet, Christ, felt you through my trousers.”

Your whole body goes numb. “You were gonna fuck me as I slept?” you whisper, belly flipping. You’d told him – ages ago – that he could, but he hasn’t been here. You’d forgotten.

The image of him pulling your underwear down as you slept streaks across your mind. Imagine waking up with him inside of you, so full and wet and just on the precipice of coming.

Simon grunts. He tugs at the band of your underwear, “I’ll fuck you right, at some point. Just –”

In your delirious state, you manage to finish his sentence, “Tired, I know – I know baby.”

You kiss the crown of his head and whimper into his hair. “Just use me until you’re ready.”

Simon groans out deep and loud. It rumbles against your chest. Echoes through your heart, and you’re so turned on that you begin fidgeting.

You try and squirm away from the stifling ache of your pussy, but Simon’s built like a brick shithouse, so you can’t run from it, just gotta take it and take it and take it, until you can’t anymore, and you break.

You’re so fucked that you don’t even announce that you’re coming, but Simon knows, shit, and as your pussy clenches up tight, he growls low and hard, mumbling, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, until his movements go sloppy, and his breathing goes laboured, and he’s coming into his pants and mewling your name.

When he finally does manage to get inside of you, he doesn’t last long. No, he pushes all the way to the hilt, and you tighten up.

“Stay” you gasp, clenching your pussy around his shaft, and Simon grunts deep and long into your throat.

“S-Stay there,” you moan, then, in case he didn’t hear you, “Stay,” you whisper, and push the ball of your palm into his thick, scarred shoulder. 

You were teetering on a knives edge.

You’ve come once since Simon was home, and your second orgasm of his return was right there.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Simon groans into the shallow of your throat, “Did we do enough prep?” 

“Yes,” you immediately whisper, not wanting him to pull out. 

He’s thick and pulsing inside of you, hard and heavy on top, and God, he kisses at your throat — soft and gentle. You try to swallow down the ball that has swelled in your throat, but tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill. 

No no no no, you think. Not now. Not now not now. You try to stifle the tears, but you unconsciously sniff, and despite Simon being perfectly still, he still manages to freeze.

“Sweetheart?”

You inhale, “Yeah?” 

Simon looks up; and seeing tears on your cheeks, his face falls, “Did I hurt you?”

You furiously wipe the tears away, shaking your head.

“M’just overwhelmed,” you whisper, and he presses his forehead against yours, going to kiss you, but the movement causes his hips to flex against you, nudging his cock, and you whine, immediately gripping onto the back of his dirty blonde locks. 

Simon drops his face into your chest and lets out a pained rasp, “Tightening around me, kid.” 

You unclench, “m’sorry.” 

“Gonna come quick.” 

“S’okay.” 

“I’ll fuck you right, just gotta…” he trails off and grabs fist fulls of your hips.

“Fuck,” he huffs wistfully, “This pussy. Missed this fucking pussy.”

You go dizzy with need. Shake your head, and bend to kiss him, tasting his wet and swollen lips. Gently, you knock your hips up into his, and when he lets out a surprised grumble, you flex your hips higher, trying to stuff his cock deeper, further – till you can see it pressing into your belly.

Catching onto your plan, Simon grunts and pushes your hips with his fat palms, pinning your ass to the mattress. 

“Stop,” he orders, and the demand goes straight to your cunt. Jesus. He hasn’t been very dominant since his return, and that little instruction has you chomping on the bit.

“Want you, Si.”

“One stroke and I’ll be fucked.” 

“Just gotta practice.” 

He chokes on a laugh, muttering, “Practice.” 

You try another tactic. Clench around his cock and pout, “Want you to come inside me.”

“Fuck,” Simon cuts. You curl your legs back his back and push your foot into the dense muscle of his ass, at the same time rocking your hips up. Simon lets you. Let’s you try and fuck yourself on his cock. With wet lips, you push your mouth into the shell of his ear, shakily uttering his name.

“Gonna fill me up, Si?”

“Fuckin’ filthy, you know that?”

Simon pulls back, and your heart stutters.

You think he’s going to pull out, until he uses your hips to pull you tight against his cock -- your ass nearly sitting on his thighs. His thick, scarred chest is puffed up.

Cheeks red, and he’s got that animal glint in his pretty eyes.

It knocks you for six.

“Where you want it?” he asks, and you’re confused, until he presses the heel of his palm into the middle of your tummy.

“Shoot my load here, huh?”

Your body goes numb. Eyes white out. It happens so suddenly that it scares you, and you’re a mixture of turned on and frightened, but the fear turns you on even more.

All you can do is blearily look up at him as he slides his paw to the other side of your tummy, “or shoot it here. Fuck it so deep that you can taste it.”

He pretends to think about it. Even hums, before he drags his palm up and stuffs his thumb into your mouth. “Or just directly here, huh?” He snarls a smile, “know you like it when your mouth is full.”

You suck at his thumb, and tighten your cunt around his cock, causing his mouth to open, and eyes to flutter, and just like that, you’ve won.

He comes in record time.

But Simon keeps his promises.

A couple of days later – on the seventh day he’s back -- he fucks you so good, that when you wake up the next morning, you get shy just thinking about it. 

Lay in bed, staring at the ceiling – your boyfriend fast asleep on your chest -- remembering the debauchery you’d gotten up to the night before. 

The pair of you are a little tipsy, drunk on beer and wine, but all it’s done is heighten your senses, and made you fully aware of your desires, so much so, that they pulsate behind your eyelids like a migraine.

Simons got you face down, ass up, and as he pushes you face first into the mattress, he presses his thumb against the tight, fluttering hole of your pussy.  

“Gonna let me inside, baby?”

You sink into your thighs and spread yourself wider for him, humming into your crossed arms. Simon watches your pussy spread further, and he can’t help himself, he has to slide his thumb deeper.

He presses, just barely pushing the tip of his thumb into your wet hole, and you gasp, trying to chase the feeling by inching back against his fat palm.  He laughs at you. “Look at your pussy sucking my thumb in, baby. Wish you could see what I’m seeing. So fuckin’ sexy.”

You hum, the words making you wetter – dripping over his thumb.

“Been dreaming of fucking you right, gonna take you whenever I want.”

“Okay,” you whisper, so delirious that you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. Simon raises a brow,

“Yeah?” he asks, tone breathless. Thought he’d get some pushback on that one, but for a second, he forgot that you said the nastiest shit with his dick inside of you.

You nod into your crossed arms, and Simon laughs again, “Free use pussy,” he sounds, then lightly smacks your sodden folds, causing you to flinch, bucking forward. 

“Oh fuck,” you choke, eyes rolling back. Heat ricochets through your crotch and swamps your belly, before settling back in your aching pussy. Once you manage to collect yourself – and it takes a second -- you huff. “Bein’ mean.”

Simon snorts, grabs your hips, then rams the underside of his cock against your pussy, grinning so big that his scars stretch, “don’t know the half of it, babe.” 

You sob, real tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Your desire is visceral, enough for you to taste it on your tongue. Simon pulls back, and your slick coats the length of his dick, earning yourself another light smack to your cunt.

“Soakin’ me,” he grunts, and you sob into the sheets. “Please,” you whisper, then, please please please, and Simon hears your breathing hitch. 

This time, instead of checking up on you, he chuckles, “Crying again, baby?”

You sniff and wipe your eyes on your wrist, face heating.

“No,” you mumble, and Simon sighs.

He reads you like a book. Always has. Always will.

“Lying to me,” he grumbles, then he steers the uncut head of his cock between your folds, whispering, “Lie to me again, and I’ll give you something to cry about,” before bottoming out in one thrust.

!! smut - minors dni; this is fuckin nastyy so look away or smthn; breeding kink :’3

mmm but simon not realizing he has breeding kink until someone brings it up

they’re out in a bar, chatting quietly even amidst the sheer volume of the weekend crowd, before johnny snorts and bumps his shoulders to simon’s in a teasing manner.

“especially LT,” johnny says, scottish accent even thicker now that he’s intoxicated. “he probably can’t wait to see his bonnie lass swollen with his kids. would probably retire jus’ for the very reason of makin’ her a momma.”

john snorts at johnny’s slurred words while kyle chokes on his drink, coughing quietly, almost politely, until john takes pity on the kid and smacks his back with measured thumps. johnny laughs, loud guffaws blending well with the buzz in the bar, but it’s not like simon noticed.

how could he focus when his mind’s feeding him images of the way you’d look heavy with a babe? or how he’d make it so that you are?

the way he’d fuck you until it takes; your pussy leaking and gaping and full of his cum. the way he’d keep you on his bed for hours, make a routine out of it until he’s repeating it for many days because he wouldn’t risk the chances. then, he can’t stop thinking about the way your body would change, building fat to cushion your belly, your sharp edges turning into soft and pudgy corners. the way you’d be so sensitive, so dependent on him.

fuck.

simon gets yanked back into the reality when he hears john chuckle, low rumbles of disbelief spilling from the puffs of his laughter. simon’s eyes flick up towards his captain and all john does is give him a pointed stare, his eyes crinkled in a surprised delight, before the older man tips his drink into his lips and finishes his bourbon.

simon’s fist closes around his glass of whiskey, and he tries his best to ignore the growing tightness of his jeans.

he can’t wait to file for a vacation leave.

hes so cute im crying

König doodle

This… is stupid, but you know what, it delighted me to draw and that’s the most important thing <3

❝ 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄! ❞

❝ A PUNK ROCK DRUMMER AND HE'S SIX-FOOT-THREE !! ❞

✧ pairing: older brother! choso kamo x best friend! reader

✧ summary: you've been asked whether you and yuji are together a million times - but the truth is his brother is more your type -- so what happens when you end up sharing a bed one night?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is two years younger than choso (same age as yuji), (all in their 20s but age is vague), bed sharing, switch! choso, soft dom! choso, sub! choso, oral (m), handjob (m), dry humping, fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied itafushi, implied bi king yuji, a little angst with choso, but a lot of comfort, cuddling, nobara hijinks, art by @/yume041624

✧ wc: 5,597

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 2 has been sold to one anon!

Yuji Itadori was not your boyfriend. 

It was a sentence you had to say probably as many times as Yuji had to tell people you weren’t his girlfriend. It was the first thing people asked when they saw the two of you together, or some iteration of “you two are soooo cute together,” “you’re the perfect couple,” or your favorite, “when’s the wedding?” 

The last one you liked to answer with when hell froze over. 

And it wasn’t because Yuji wasn’t attractive — he was. He was cute, athletic, loyal to a fault, somewhat intelligent when he put his two brain cells together, and had a really nice smile. But you said that with all of the platonic energy in the universe — because if anyone asked you to kiss Yuji (year seven, a dare that went horribly wrong, and ended with you shoving Yuji into someone’s lap) — you would probably laugh or puke. 

Whichever naturally came first (or possibly both). 

But the good thing was Yuji felt the exact same way — he saw you as a sister, someone he respected, loved, but never romantically — you knew that by the way he barely had reacted when he had barged into your bathroom when you were getting dressed from your shower still, and just promptly just shut the door with a shouted, “sorry!” 

You glance to your right, at Yuji who was playing a video game beside you on the couch — No, your type was not the golden retriever, stare into your eyes longingly, and bring that boy home to your parents — no, your eyes slid over to your left, your type was…his older brother. 

Jet black locks that hung to his shoulders, inked tattoos peeking out from beneath his black t-shirt, bags under his eyes as dark as his gaze itself, and his perfect lips were curled in a small smirk — at you.

Choso Kamo was absolutely your type — except for the fact he was your best friend’s older brother. That little problem still niggled into the forefront of your mind, even as you saw him lick his lips out of the corner of your eye, the rounded metal piercing on his tongue glinting in the fluorescent lights of the basement. Your eyes drew back to the TV screen where Yuji was badly losing a fighting game online, toying with your phone in your hands. 

“Yo bro, are you headed back to school tonight?” Choso went to a college couple hours away — his break nearly over now — while you and Yuji went to a nearby university, two years behind Choso. 

“Yeah, I’m going to make the drive tonight, probably get there before midnight or just after,” he sighs, raking his painted fingernails through his hair, “when do you two head back?” 

“Next week,” you replied, watching Yuji fall into sudden death in his match, “Yuji promised to help me move this time, and not blow me off to help his boyfriend move this time,” 

“Fushiguro isn’t my boyfriend,” he snaps, and the other player takes him out, Yuji glares at you, knuckles white against the controller, “look what you did,” he grumbles, tossing the controller onto the table, clattering against the wooden surface. 

“Careful, you break another controller, and your dad will kill you,” you smirk, “if you weren’t so sensitive about Fushiguro, you wouldn’t have lost!” 

His cheeks are stained an incriminating red, as he gets up and stalks off, muttering something about getting a soda from upstairs, and he’s gone in a flash, as you chuckle, far too pleased with your work — a little more prodding, and maybe you’d win that bet with Nobara about Yuji and Megumi getting together on the first day back. 

“So, is that Fushiguro kid good enough for him?” Choso’s voice snaps you from your thoughts, as Choso raises an eyebrow, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Who’s really good enough for Yuji?” But you add, “but Fushiguro’s a good guy. He’d be a good match for Yuji,” 

“And what about you?” 

You tilt your head, your heart stutters in your chest, “What about me?” 

“Who’d be a good match for you?” And you bite your bottom lip — you can’t be honest can you? How could you? Yuji had no idea how you felt and if he did, he may be horrified at the thought of you dating his older brother. But what if he wasn’t? And what if — your eyes meeting his own — you didn’t care? 

But you don’t get to reply as Yuji comes bounding back down the stairs, bad mood already dissipated in the short few minutes he was gone, as he tosses you your favorite drink and does the same with his brother, “what I’d miss?” 

You rolled around in bed, tossing from side to side — until you sighed again, resting on your stomach. You were so stupid. You had all day with Choso, all day to say something — to steer the conversation back to what you were talking about before. But no, you couldn’t. The three of you had dinner together, and you watched Choso leave, bags in hand, as you did the last two years. 

He and Yuji clap hands together, as he ruffles his little brother’s hair as always, “Don’t do anything stupid okay? Visit your dad as much as you can. And let me know if you want to visit,” and his eyes find yours, “the both of you,” 

And his palm comes to ruffle your hair as usual, leaning far too close for your heart’s sake, 

“Be good ok?” And god, you have to force yourself not to shiver, as you nod, “Yuji, let her sleep in my room. She shouldn’t be forced to sleep on your couch again.”

“I always tell her to take my bed but she always says no—“ 

“That’s because your mattress sucks—“ 

“Well mine doesn’t,” Choso cuts in, and fuck, why does that make you press your thighs together discreetly, “So just sleep in there, ok?” 

And now that’s where you find yourself, in Choso’s bed, in the room that Yuji’s dad had set up for him to use — it was relatively neat, a guitar left in the corner that he often used when he was here to practice — the one he had been sleeping in for the last month, the bedroom you’d pass each night and wish you had the courage to knock on his door, let the door swing open as you leaned close to him, fingers resting on his shoulder, breath warming your lips before you finally—

This wasn’t helping, you groaned into his pillow, and neither was the fact that this entire bed smelled like him — like musk and spice and something that’s so distinctly him. So distinctly him that you can’t ignore the ache between your legs, as your traitorous mind summoned images of him lying shirtless in bed — you knew from how his t-shirt would ride up that his body was far more toned than he looked and from when his chest pressed against your back when he reached for a plate from the table. 

Fuck. You buried your face into the pillow again, you would be lucky to sleep an hour, much less a full night. But finally, you do drift off into Hypnos’s realm, however brief it is. 

Until you’re awoken by rustling, you turn on the bed, consciousness stirring, as you hear the sounds of shifting again and your eyes blink open only to see a shirtless Choso standing in front of you. 

You nearly pinch yourself to ensure your sinful thoughts before bed hadn’t betrayed you (and you do discreetly, as you stare at each other), “Choso?” You ask, voice thick with sleep, despite your body being far too awake for its own good, as your eyes finally dart away from the expansive view that is his bare chest, “what are you—“ 

“The roads got bad while I was driving back, it’s raining really hard — I got drenched even just heading from the car to the house,” he pulls on a shirt, “sorry I just came to grab a shirt—“ 

“Do you wanna sleep in your bed?” You move to get up, but he shakes his head, his hand finding your head again, as he ruffles your hair, “I can sleep in Yuji’s room — it’s fine,” 

His lips quirk, “No, it’s okay — I’ll take the couch in his room, it’s not a problem,” 

There was a problem — Yuji had locked his door before bed — the idiot. And once he was asleep, he slept like the dead — and the only way to wake him was the scream your throat raw, or a necromancy blood  ritual — whichever was simpler. 

“You can take your bed, I can sleep on the floor,” you chew your lip as you watch him set up a sheet and blanket on the floor of his room, “Choso—“ 

“I’m not going to have you sleep on the floor,” he raises an eyebrow, as he lays back, “just go back to bed, I’m sorry I woke you,” 

You shake your head, “you’re fine,” and you glance at the bed — there was enough space for both of you, wasn’t there? “we could share the bed—“

“No,” 

“It would be fine—“ and he seems unconvinced, his dark eyes finding yours again, cutting off your train of thought, “what?” 

“Do you always insist on sharing a bed with a guy?” And your cheeks burn, eyes unable to meet his as you glance at your phone, “you should be more careful,” 

“I trust you, and Yuji,” you add, chewing your bottom lip — you were veering into dangerous territory,  “I wouldn’t do this with anyone else,” 

“Really?” 

“Really,” and he reaches up, you think to ruffle your hair again, but instead his fingers brush his cheek, long fingers trailing the length of your cheekbone, “Choso—“ 

“Go to sleep, we can talk in the morning,” and his fingers fall away as quickly as they come, as he turns away, his black locks fanned out on his pillow, “good night,” 

“Night,” you murmur, as your eyes rest on his back — how was he so close yet so far? You barely remember a time he wasn’t there — he had found Yuji when he was in middle school — right after his grandfather had passed away. You were by Yuji’s side, holding his hand, when Choso tapped on his brother’s shoulder. And it wasn’t love at first sight — you were overprotective of Yuji, but Choso took his time to gain your trust with actions — until he had gained a lot more than just your trust — he had gained your heart along with it. 

And even now, those adolescent feelings still lingered, and he remained just barely out of reach. Close enough to touch, but not enough to breach. 

You close your eyes finally, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. 

You barely drift off when you hear the sounds of soft cries and even a whimper — your mind is pulled from the arms of sleep into reality, eyes fluttering open to only find the darkness of night, the barest glimmer of moonlight let in by the cracks of the curtains, and you see him. 

Choso. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, fingers clutching at his blanket — his knuckles nearly white, his brow formed valleys seemingly as deep as his fear. His breath left his lips in short pants, and you’re climbing off the bed before you can think. 

Yuji had told you Choso hadn’t had the best upbringing. You didn’t know much, but you had known Choso had grown up taking care of his other siblings, left to be a father instead of an older brother. And his father…had abused all of them when he had bothered to be around — Choso taking the worst of it. 

You’re at side, but you don’t know what to do — your fingers shake as you reach to touch him, but you don’t know if that will only scare him more, “Choso, you’re safe,” you said softly, “I’m going to touch you okay? You’re safe, you’re okay — come here, I’ll keep you safe,” and your fingers graze lightly against his brow, smoothing it’s ceases before running your fingers through his hair, “no one can hurt you,” and your other hand eases his fingers from his blanket, intertwining your fingers, “you’re okay,” 

And his body slowly grows more limp, the tension ebbing away with each second, as his breathing slowed, your name leaving his lips, “I-I’m sorry,” you shush him gently, “I—“

“Come onto the bed,” you murmur, and he’s shaking his head, “Choso, it’s okay, it’ll be fine.” 

His eyes slowly flutter open, but instead of fear, you only find sadness, “But what if…I hurt you somehow?” His voice is soft, and you almost chuckle at the thought of him hurting you. 

“You could never hurt me, I know you, Choso,” you tug him by his hand lightly, “come on, please?” 

You get onto the bed first, and he slowly follows, the bed dipping with his weight beside you. Your heart squeezes at the warmth of his body being so close, your fingers hesitantly reaching for him, and his arm slowly wraps around your middle, giving you enough time and space for you to move away (you don’t),  “Thank you,” he murmurs, and your lips curl in a soft smile. 

“Of course,” you say, and you inch even closer, as his breaths slow and warm your skin, and your eyes finally flutter shut too. And as you slip back into sleep — you wonder if you’ll truly wake to only realize this was a dream. 

Choso had watched you and Yuji grow up — well, he was still growing up too — it felt as if he had aged so much faster the way he grew up. When he found out about Yuji from his deadbeat father, Choso went looking for him — only to find him with a death announcement — Yuji’s grandfather’s. Choso knew what it was like to lose family — the wounds never would heal, it was a poison that seeped into every crevice of your body, and hung on your bones like weights. But even so, Choso didn’t know Yuji — and he didn’t know how he’d react to a random person showing up to his grandfather’s funeral. 

But he did anyway — and he was so glad he did, because he not only found his brother, but he found you too. 

You — Yuji’s best friend, and who he thought his little brother would eventually date, even despite his protests that the two of you were just friends. You, who had encouraged Yuji to spend time with him, while guarding him as you did, eyes sharp and evaluating around his presence. But that eased with time — and with time, you both had grown up. 

You had grown up to be even more beautiful than he thought was possible. And it wasn’t just your appearance — that had shedded the second skin of insecurity and awkwardness that came with adolescence — but it was everything. Even more than before, you radiate warmth, the same kind of warmth his brother did, but instead of a blinding sun, you were soft light that enveloped those you wished to.  

And this past month had been an exercise of self control if not torture. Seeing you in the mornings, hair askew as you emerged before Yuji did, a soft smile that he only could hope was reserved for him. Voice thick with sleep as you told him ‘good morning,’ and it was — every time he got to wake to the sight of you. 

This morning was no exception, but only cemented that fact.  

Although, now that he was waking up beside you, maybe he was wrong, maybe you were blinding — because you blinded from seeing every ounce of logic he thought he had. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, your soft breaths tickling his skin, as his fingers tucked a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. 

How were you so beautiful? The back of his finger traced the slope of your jaw, no one should be allowed to be this ethereal — especially while they slept. Your feet stuck out of the blanket, and he fixed it, making sure you were warm enough, but he only succeeded in making you stir. 

He froze as you only nuzzled into him further, your fingers grasping at the front of his shirt, while your legs further entangled with his, your waist, pressed right against his and…a particular problem presented itself. 

Fuck. 

He needed to leave the bed, but how would he without waking you? He carefully slipped his arm away from you, trying his best to detangle your legs from his own. But only for your eyes to flutter open anyway — his breath catching as your half asleep gaze meets his, your lips curling into a soft smile. 

“Morning,” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep, and god, he hopes you can’t hear or feel how his heart skips a beat at the sound of your voice. You don’t seem the slightest bit concerned at the proximity, your eyes opening and shutting still, “are you okay?” 

“I am, thanks to you,” he murmurs, his cheeks warming at the sight of your sleepy smile, as you rubbed your eyes, “did you sleep okay?” 

“I did, I think I slept the best I had in weeks,” you admit, as you blink away sleep, and really look at him — only to find him staring, “what?” 

“You’re just…really beautiful,” and he delights in your eyes darting away from his shyly, and his fingers brush against your chin, guiding your gaze back to his, “you really have no idea what you do to me, do you?” 

And he feels your breath catch — and he wonders if he’s crossed a line, if he should back off, if he had rung a bell that should have never been touched — but your fingers curl around his, lips parted, “Then why don’t you show me?” 

He swallows thickly, as he draws closer, thumb rubbing the length of your cheek, and you let him — putty in his hands, “Can I kiss you?” And you nod wordlessly, and he doesn’t wait any longer, his lips brush yours. 

It’s chaste, barely a kiss at all, lips parting far too soon, but he can’t help but hesitate, he wants this to be right, he never would want to hurt you — never wanted to even approach that line, much less toe it. But by the way your fingers threaded in his long locks, finding purchase on the back of his neck to only kiss him — he figures he’s fine. 

But fuck, you’re more than just fine. You’re everything, everything to him. 

Your lips glide against his so utterly softly, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, and you part them for him with ease. He swallows your moan eagerly as he tastes you, as your fingers tug at his shirt, urging him on top, as you roll onto your back for him. 

“But—we shouldn’t—” he bites his lip, “Yuji—” 

“Who the fuck cares about Yuji right now?” and you’re climbing on top of him this time, your clothed cunt dragging teasingly over his morning wood, as a gasp escaped his lips, “you’re a lot more honest down south, Choso,” you tug your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor, his eyes widen, raking over your exposed skin, gasping when you lightly grind down on his already tenting erection, “Yuji doesn’t need to know, as long as we’re quiet,” and you lean down to kiss him. 

All sense leaves his mind — right as your lips find his again, and your hands slip under his shirt, the sounds of your kisses ring in his ear, your lips quirking up when your teeth graze against his bottom lip and he groans. 

Your fingers pull at the hem of his shirt, and he leans up, helping you toss it onto the ground to join your shirt, “I thought you liked Yuji,” he murmurs, “I never thought you would—“ 

“Yuji is my friend — my best friend. The only thing we’ve ever come close to sharing is a kiss when we were kids because of a dare, and even then, I had pushed him away,” and you smile that same way that had stolen his breath time and time again, “but I’d never dream of pushing you away, Cho—“ 

And he’s flipped you under him, your back pressed against the mattress, your breath caught in your throat, as his lidded gaze finds yours, “Even if I make you scream?” His fingers trace down your cheek, the length of your jaw, across your collarbone and down the valley of your breasts, “you won’t mind letting Yuji hear you then? Hear how good I make you feel?” He murmurs, and you whimper as his fingertips breach the edge of your bra, teasing the perked peaks underneath, “won’t push me away when I push into you?” 

“Choso,” you gasp, as his fingers roll your nipples between his fingers, “fuck—“ 

“You have such a filthy mouth for someone so innocent,” he murmurs, voice gliding over your body like velvet, “have to put your mouth to good use, won’t I, baby?” And his fingers glide down your stomach now, teasing the waistband of your shorts, “you like it when I talk like this? I wonder how much,” he hums, his eyes finding yours, looking for confirmation as his fingers drag down gen elastic of your shorts, and sees the wet patch of your slick, “been waiting for this as much as I’ve been, baby?” 

“Yes, please,” you whine, and he’s teasing your hardened clit through the wet fabric, “been waiting so long, Cho, please—“ 

“You were so bold before,” and his lithe fingers are tugging your underwear aside as his fingers circle the outside of your cunt, “does it only take a few touches to have you so pliant under me?” 

You pout, and it’s so unfair how adorable you look — god, it was always so unfair how cute you looked — “Please, don’t tease me,” 

“How can I not when I waited for this for so long?” he kisses the length of your collarbone, sending a shiver down your body, his knees pressing your thighs apart, as his thumb presses teasingly against your clit, “tell me, how long have you waited?” 

“Choso—” you whine, but it falls on deaf ears, even as your hips try to grind against his touch, he’s pressing your hips back down, “I-I don’t know,” but he knows from the way from your forearm covers your face out of embarrassment that you do. 

“I know you do, sweetheart,” and he’s easing your arm from your face, thumb dragging down your kiss bitten lips, “don’t hide from me,” he murmurs, “you’re too pretty to hide,” 

“Please, just touch—“ and a gasp parts your lips again, back of your head pressing into the pillow as a single digit works it’s way inside your fluttering walls, the wet squelch of your walls against his finger nearly enough to make him cum in his boxers there and then, “Cho, so good,” and god, he’s reaching a hand into his boxers to palm at his aching erection. 

“So fucking wet f’me, baby, just for me, right?” and you’re nodding wordlessly, his finger was so much longer and thicker than your own, “can’t wait to sink inside you, baby,” and he’s adding another finger, slowly working you open, toying and teasing you until the moans he’d dreamed of spill from your lips again and again. His palm grasps desperately at his weeping erection, imagining your smaller fingers around his cock, 

“Choso, s’close, can’t—” a soft groan leaves your lips. 

“Cum around my fingers, pretty, fall apart for me,” he grunts, and his thumb bares down on your clit, and you’re tipping over the edge, as your mouth falls open, back arching as you cum hard, pleasure ripping up your body, as he finger fucks you through your orgasm. Your eyes flutter open slowly, as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, your slick clinging to his fingers. You watch him as he presses his fingers into his mouth, sucking his fingers clean of your cum, “best thing I’ve ever tasted, baby,” and he’s leaning to press a kiss to your lips, swallowing your moans with ease, as he lets you taste yourself on his tongue. 

And you’re rolling him over onto his back, as his dark gaze finds yours, as you kiss your way down his body, until you settle between his thighs, “My turn to taste you,” you look up with half lidded eyes and curled lips — and his cock twitches even before you even lay a finger on him.  Your fingers tug down at the elastic of his waistband of his shorts and pull them down with ease, eyes glazing over as you stared at his bulge, tip weeping against his boxers, a large wet patch that your fingers brushed against. 

“I wasn’t the only one who was eager, Choso,” your fingers graze his tip, teasing his slit  through the damp fabric, drawing a hiss from his lips, “such a pretty noise,” you press your thighs together, “wonder what other noises I can pull from these lips,” 

“Pretty, fuck—“ he grunts as you tug his boxers down finally, his cock slapping against his stomach, as your eyes seemingly dilate at the sight of him. 

“You’re the pretty one, pretty boy,” his cock was lovely flushed red, pearly bead of pre-cum dripping from his slit — and god, he’s really sensitive, keening as your fingers wrap lightly around his tip, smearing his pre down his length, “now, who’s gonna be the one to wake Yuji? Gonna let your brother how good it feels have his best friend touch you?” And his cock twitches at the thought, and you don’t miss it, as your fingers begin to slide down to his base, “oh, you want him to hear us? Want him to hear me suck you off too?” And your lips press a chaste kiss to his tip, his hips jerking, as the tip of your tongue traced his weeping slit. 

A whine leaves his throat, as your mouth envelops him now, fingers touching what your mouth couldn’t take, your tongue running along his veins. 

God, you’re a fucking vision, he nearly blows his load in your mouth as his eyes flutter open to watch you — head bobbing and sucking at his cock, a mix of his precum and your spit dribbling out of the corner of your mouth. His fingers thread in your hair, as he resists the urge to fuck your mouth. 

And he’s easing you off, your lips removed with a pop, a string of your saliva and his pre connecting you to his aching erection. 

“Such a good girl,” he’s pressing his thumb on your tongue, letting you swallow his precum, “fuck, baby, please, I need you,” 

And he’s got you under him again, your legs folded and pressed against your chest, long fingers pressing into his soft flesh,  “Choso, fuck me, I need—“ your words cut off as you moan as he drags his cock against your fluttering cunt, your thighs quiver and shake from anticipation, “ngh— ah, stop teasing me,” 

“You’ve been teasing me for so long, baby, can I have two minutes?” His tip sinks into you, far too fucking slow, “wanna make this last, been dreaming about this for too long, wanna make you feel good—” now that he’s had a taste, he can’t go a moment without it, your skin the sweetest thing he ever had — he’s no better than a desert wanderer gulping water down for the first time — because now he can’t help but want you swallow you whole.  

You whimper, and he can’t hold back anymore at the sight of large tears pooling in your eyes, and he’s sinking into you, inch by inch — and god, your warmth is so much fucking better than he could have ever imagined. And he had, with guilt gnawing at him, as his fingers jerked his pulsing cock off, imagining that it was your pretty pussy he was cumming in, instead of his fist. 

You swallow him whole instead, your needy cunt pulling him deeper and deeper, until he finally bottoms out. “Princess cunt gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, baby,” he’s groaning, and your walls flutter around him, tugging him in even before he tries to pull out. 

“S’big, Choso — I’m so full, baby,” you’re moaning, fingers trying to find purchase on something, anything, but even so your legs are parting more for him, as he slowly starts to fuck you. 

The smacks of your skin meeting his echoes in his ears again and again, your hips rising to meet his thrusts, and he’s so fucking deep — you swear you can feel him in your stomach, tip surely brushing against your cervix. 

His grunts only make you wetter, as he pistons his hips desperately, murmuring sweet words in your ear about how perfect you were, how good you were taking him, and how he couldn’t wait to fill you up. 

Your eyes squeeze shut as large tears slip down your cheeks, that he thumbs away, finding your lips in a sloppy, messy kiss as he splits you open, “Cho, fuck, please I’m s’close,” 

“Cum for me, baby, cum all over my cock,” and his fingers are reaching down, rubbing circles over your clit just as his cock finds that spot that has your back arching and pleasure running up your spine. And you’re gone, squirting all over him, unable to even be embarrassed as he fucks you through your orgasm, his low groan at the fucking mess you’ve made of his sheets and his cock — ring of white forming around his base, as he fucks you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum, where—“ 

“Inside,” and that’s all it takes for him to fall over the edge with you, his cum painting your walls, spurting as his hips slowed as he fucked his release into you, slowly easing your wobbly legs down, groaning again as he pulls his softening dick from your messy cunt, watching your mixed releases spill from inside you. 

He’s rolling off of you, lying beside you, as he cuddles you, burying his face in the nape of your neck, pressing sweet kisses to your still burning skin, “Are you okay?” He murmurs, leaning back, as he runs his fingers through your hair. And his gaze is impossibly soft with concern only for you, “are you in any pain? Do you need—“ 

And you kiss him softly, still full of need, but just for his presence, for his touch, for him, all of him. 

“All I need is you right now, okay?” His cheeks grow even more flushed, eyes shying away, even after all the two of you had done. And as the afterglow ebbs away, your anxieties creep back in — was this just a one time thing? Did he really even like you? Or was this just a matter of circumstance? You were almost too afraid to ask but you were too afraid not to, “Choso—“ 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, cutting off your sentence, and he’s biting his lip, “sorry did I cut you off-“ and you kiss him again, smiling against his lips, as you pull away, eyes shining, “is that a yes?” 

You laugh, “What do you think?” And you kiss him again. And again, and then a thought occurs to you, “you don’t think Yuji heard us right?” 

And Choso considers it, checking his phone, “No, he would have been giving us shit about it by now,” and he smiles, “but like you said before, I really don’t want to talk about my brother right now,” and his lips find yours again, “we can worry about telling him later.” 

You both have a very late start by the end of this. But the next time someone asked you if Yuji was your boyfriend, at least you could say something else: 

You’d smile, and shake your head, showing off your lock screen of you and Choso, “No, my best friend’s brother is the one for me.” 

“You owe me 5,000 yen,” Yuji says over the phone, grinning, “I told you they would hook up by the end of the break,” 

Kugisaki whines on the other end of the phone, “Fuck, you rigged this, Itadori — I know you must have,” 

“It’s not my fault the roads were bad when he was going back to school,” although it was his fault that his brother couldn’t sleep in his room and had no choice but to sleep in his room — but Kugisaki didn’t need to know that, “at least you didn’t have to hear them all morning,” 

She laughs, “Oh please, it’s not like I haven't walked in on you and Fushiguro making out, what twice now?” 

Yuji’s cheeks flush, “Shut up! And don’t tell anyone about that. She won’t ever let me hear the end of it, and Choso — you know what he did to my ex girlfriend, he practically interrogated her,” he really didn’t want to subject Megumi to that — not yet at least. 

“Yeah, yeah, then you better treat me to lunch when we’re back on campus,” and he opens his mouth to reply, “or I might just let it slip to your bestie that you actually don’t have classes on Tuesday and that’s the day you’re gonna spend at Fushiguro’s place,” 

“…Nowhere too expensive, okay?” 

“You don’t get to make demands in this situation.” 

✧ a/n: my itafushi heart popped off sorry hahah. this was a fun concept and i hope you guys enjoyed it!! thank god this one wasn't as long as my last celebration fic :). i was able to finish it in like two days, rather than like a week lmao. i will be doing my original concept for the celebration fic -- it's just taking a different form :) and didn't quite fit these prompts / request like i wanted it to. also yes the title is from that victorious song lmao.

✧ taglist: @celestie0, @that-goth-bisexual, @jj333sworld, @nysrevenge, @gojolvrr34, @crazychaoticizzy, @sunnyf4lls, @ahniebeauxbonnie, @sukaibg, @rrosieroo, @buffytheangelslayer, @alliereece, @strawmariee, @complexivelovely, @fushitoru, @telvess, @firelordazulaaaa, @peachyminx, @celestie0, @ririthedevil, @levyonthelevel, @awniie, @jj333sworld, @strangehuman101, @sailortongue, @nctstrcngencugh, @catsgomurp, @gojoedd, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @ch0c0bsess, @maybe-a-bi-witch, @teatreeoilll, @pricetagofficial,

There were very few sights that Simon Riley had engrained in his brain- but this one? This one had to be his fucking favorite.

You were lying underneath him, a thin layer of sweat coating your body, your mouth agape and eyes rolled into the back of your head. You were cock drunk.

His eyes were glued to you, and he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he blinked. Simon usually had quite the stamina, but the glorious sight of you underneath him had his orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Taking me so fucking good, sweetheart.” Simon groaned, his eyes threatening to squeeze shut in pleasure. “Feels so good around my cock.”

“Simon, please.” You moaned breathlessly.

“Please what?” Simon teased, leaning down to nip at your neck. “You begging me to make you cum?”

You gave a weak nod, unable to form a coherent thought. You loved sex like this with Simon- you loved when he grew possessive and dominant, as it was always something he included in the bedroom. You loved when he fucked you dumb.

“What my girl wants, my girl gets.” Simon growled, snapping his hips against you as hard as he could. “Go ahead, love, cum for me.”

You let out a guttural moan at his words as your pussy clenched around him. Your orgasm rippled through you, your body convulsing underneath Simon as you lost all sense of reality.

Simon let out a low moan of his own he struggled to hold himself above your frame- his cock spurting its seed inside your velvety walls. “Fuckin’ hell.”

He pulled out carefully, laughing softly at your whimpers. He pulled you close to him, not caring about the mess the two of you made- he just needed to feel you against him.

He pressed a kiss to your sweaty brow, a proud smile lining his lips when you gave a hum of approval. “Such a pretty little thing you are.”

Simon’s eyes still remained glued to your frame, his brain burning the image to memory. The sight of you right now, completely fucked senseless…maybe THIS was his new favorite mental image.