After the life Simon Riley has had, itâs really not surprising that he just canât get it up anymore. Heâs tried, time and time again, but the blood doesnât pump through him the same way it did. And it isnât that he doesnât have a sex drive, god no, one look at you and he wishes he could fuck you into the mattress until your tears stain the pillows and the only sounds falling from your mouth are screams of pleasure.
You walk around the apartment, his big t-shirt on, no panties underneath, and it drives him insane. Youâre an entire decade younger than him, young and sexy, and he canât help but feel guilty for letting you stay with him knowing that he canât give you what you want in bed.
It doesnât stop him from eating you out until your clit is puffy and your walls are rubbed raw by his calloused fingers. When his head is between your legs, he tries, he really does. He gets so worked up, grinding his soft cock against the bed, willing it to get hard so he can fuck you right after, but it never does.
All it ends in is you cumming on his face one too many times and him walking out of the room without saying a word in pure humiliation.
You donât take it to heart, you know he beats himself up for it, saying he isnât good enough, that you should find someone who can actually give you what you want and keep up with you at that. Every time you reassure him, that he does satisfy you, that he never fails to make you feel good regardless of how he does it, but it seems to go in one ear and out the other.
But tonight, tonight is different and you will find a way to fuck your man.
You lay naked on the bed, legs spread, juices glistening off your folds while Simon hovers above you. His arms cage your head in as he kisses you rough, his tongue sliding over your soft lips, yours entering to explore the expanse of his mouth. He kisses the length of your jaw, down your neck where he licks the salty-sweet skin, bites just hard enough for you to writhe beneath him, and sucks until purple bruises are left to ache in the best way possible.
Before he can lower himself between your legs, you let your fingertips brush just under the waistband of his sweatpants, and his mouth stills against yours.
âSi⌠just let me try something tonight. I really want to,â you say breathlessly, pulling away from the kiss, gazing up at him with a look that is more of a beg than anything.
He kisses your forehead, moving his hand down to pull yours away, but before he can you reach in deeper, squeezing the base of him and earning a rumbling groan from him instead. His fingers wrap around your wrist, not moving you, just simply holding on like he has to steady himself.
âLovie, please. Donât embarrass me now,â he whispers, voice rough and low, wavering ever so slightly when your hand begins to trail further up his limp cock.
You donât reply, but you do run your thumb against his tip, swiping the precum beading from his slit, evidence of his arousal despite him remaining soft. Lips meeting him again, heâs reluctant, but eventually he finds your rhythm.
Pushing his sweatpants down, you pull his cock out, stroking it gently and your warm, soft palm against him feels like you're touching his raw nerves. Even if he couldnât get it up, it is still incredibly sensitive from months and months of pent-up need and no sex. Not that you hadnât tried before, because you have, and every time he gets frustrated.
Thereâs not much you can say to convince him to try again on the same night.
Nonetheless, you focus on his tip, gliding your thumb under the ridge, rubbing against his slit, and you feel his cock twitch barely in your hand. You pull his body closer to yours, resting his cock on your folds, and he hisses from the sheer pleasure of that alone. Your body heat, your slick, the thought of him touching your aching clit like this has him beyond needy.
âJust slide against me. Itâll feel good, yeah,â you say, nodding your head slowly in encouragement.
His hips roll against you, his cock sliding underneath your palm and through your folds, and he bites back a whimper while shivers run down his spine. Simon can feel his cock hardening, just barely, just enough that he might actually be able to feel your walls wrap around him, so he wastes no time in finding out.
âPlease, please,â he says under his breath, begging his body to let him pleasure you in ways he usually canât, just for tonight if thatâs what it takes.
He grabs the base of his cock, positioning at your entrance, and it takes a few tries but his semi-hard tip pushes through your entrance. You gasp softly, the feeling foreign and orgasmic, and your walls clench hard around him. A guttural groan rips from his chest when he begins to rock into you, his eyes meet yours, passion and desire swirling around as his pupils dilate from the sight of you taking him regardless of the conditions.
âYou feel so good, Si,â you moan, lifting your hips to give him easier access, glancing down every few seconds to watch the way his impossibly large and yet still soft cock rubs through your walls.
âYou feel like a dream,â is all he can get out before his eyes are shutting tight and his fingers are tangling in your hair.
Your body meets his, helping him through it, helping him get to where he needs to be so that just for tonight, he can feel man enough for you. And when he cums deep inside of you, his tip pulsing with long, thick ropes of warm cum, âthank youâsâ fall from him repeatedly before he kisses you with a newfound confidence.
âAgain Si, donât stop.â
He doesnât. He stays rocking inside you, cumming again and again until his cock is too raw, until your pussy is full of his cum, and you feel every last bit of him. When heâs done, he lowers himself between your legs, cleaning his mess and sucking your clit, watching you cry from pleasure, watching you squirm away, but there is nothing he could give you that would ever come close to the feeling of showing him that he is enough for you.
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Ghost with demons!
TF 141 with dogsđś
It's been a while painting full rendered pieces, enjoyed a lot!
Inspired from awesome @yourfaithfulauthor's request.
Ghoap x Reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader, Ghoap, 2.4k, E
summary: a new bodyguard gets hired, and it's all downhill from there.
kinktober 02: BODYGUARD AU
content: bodyguard AU, alcohol/drinking, drug usage, drugged sex, dead dove do not eat, potentially very dubious consent, noncon (just in case)
banners by @/olenvasynyt
Itâs a rare occasion when Mr. Lineker hosts a soirĂŠe. Rarer still that his daughter is in attendance. His only biological child, from his first marriage, she rarely appeared in the public eye. The black sheep of the Lineker family already bearing the smudge of embarrassment even though she was the only of the heirs to bear the name. The only actual blood descendant.
And Simon was in love with her.
Or however close to love he could understand.
A kind young woman who always smiled when she greeted him, asked about his day, and only called him âLt. Rileyâ. She only ever attended events when asked, chatted politely, then excused herself before the night got too late. Her rooms were never made up like when Mrs. Linekerâs niece or nephew come to visit. Thereâs no need to put fresh bouquets in the small room, left forgotten while she attended schooling, then university⌠and now that she's in the middle of some further schooling there is no attention given. (But the sheets still vaguely smell of her perfume, delicate floral notes strongest on the pillows as he held them to his nose, cock in hand.)
With Graves already in charge of everything, Si offers to pick her up, voice even, despite the quickening of his pulse, his heart starting to ebb up his throat. But the Texan shakes his head, already gave the job to the newbie, and his heart stops, seizes.Â
He swallows it back down like a dog in a choke collar, knows it's not his place to step in.
It's not like he won't see her, he tells himself, after they're dimissed and he goes to lick his imaginary wounds.
He doesn't hate John MacTavish, but the younger man gets under his skin like a bad itch, when the flesh healed over but there was still the damage below that hadn't fully healed. Followed him like a stray looking for a home, talking off his ear.
The Scot was good at his job, he could admit, if a bit too damn chatty. From what Simon had been told, he'd been honorably discharged due to a wound, and had thought private security might be more up his alley. Probably didn't expect his jobs to be mostly parameter surveillance. But Linekar boarded on property and that sweet draw had been what got him, seems it had got the younger man too, as he continues to chatter.
And of course he asks about her.
It's an understandable curiosity, he reasons to himself. But still that has him feeling like he's raising his hackles. There's something about this sniffing that raises a warning bell in his brain. It's not because he's interested, Simon tries to reason, but even that thought does nothing to calm him.
The fact that he asks professionally about the woman, makes him dig his heels in more, curt answers given as there's no reason to expand on anything. There is no personal, he reminds himself. There is only a professional relationship, and this mutt, for all he may rile him, Simon knows that's all it is.
So of course the mutt has to shove his damn nose into a place it doesnât belong.Â
âWhatâre ya wearinâ?â He cranes his neck to get a closer deep sniff of her neck, pawing at her waist to keep her still. And of course, she lets him, doesn't snap at him like Simon wants her to, despite the sudden closeness. Despite the straightening of her spine, a smile plays at the edge of her lips like he doesn't have his mitts on her.
He can feel his teeth grinding in his skull, jaw so tight heâs worried heâll crack something. Â That molar he'd gotten a crown on after his service, finally having the time for it.
With a soft laugh, she shuffles closer to him. She chose him. "Oh, it's just uh-"
"Thinkin' it'd make a grand gift fer my sister," MacTavish continues to chatter and the back of Si's neck tingles as he glowers at the daft mutt. He couldn't fathom interrupting her when he'd started the damn subject.
But her shoulders relax, her smile spreads as she names the scent, offering sites that she's found good discounts on, shops she'd been able to get it at for lower than the offical.
Simon doesn't feel anything.
The popping of his knuckles is just to keep the digits limber.
It's just a job.
He snaps at the pup to take her luggage inside, not seething, just his normal stoic self.
She laughs beside him, flashing a smile that he stores in his memory. "Looks like you've got your hands full, Lt. Riley," her clear amusement sends tingles low in his stomach.
"Not my fuckin' problem," he forces out, because his heart is beating fast, and he knows he has to say something.
And her smile dips, eyes on him so big, like the sweet lamb she is. If he could make himself say things normal-like he woulda by now.
She excuses herself with a soft laugh. It's not at him, but that might make things easier. Probably.
MacTavish finds him later, tail practically wagging between his legs as he crows that she's a peach.
He forces out an agreement.
The party is nothing that requires the security they offer, not really.
But they never are.
In the week since her arrival he'd been unable to stop himself from putting his foot in his mouth at every opportunity when he could even get a word out.
It's idling securely, while people with more money than sense rub elbows, chat happily while they scan the wealth of the others, their worth, and compare it to their own.
It's just work.
That she stays in his eyesight at all time is just part of his job. Hair done up
And MacTavish glues himself to his side, eyes wondering the scenery, despite the fact that he shifts his weight like a dog that's been kept in a kennel too long.
She drifts closer, as the night goes on, same flute of champagne so tenderly nursed. He could count each sip.
"So what do ya do?" MacTavish's voice makes her start, appearing so suddenly near her when Simon had done everything in his power to stay as still as he could, so she wouldn't notice. So close he could almost touch her.
"I, uh- I was doing NGO work but I'll be starting at a clinic in little under a month." There was already a smile playing at the edge of her mouth as she spoke, relaxing so easily while the mutt nodded along.
Simon could feel his jaw tighten, throat constricting. She was smiling at him. "Bit o' a fuckin' waste innit?"
If he could eat his own words out of the air, he would, from the way her eyes drop, throat tightens, before she nodded stiffly, a sound leaving her before she turned to MacTavish. "Well, I'll let you be, sorry for interrupting."
They stand in silence as she weaves her way through people, polite smile on her face.
He can feel the mutts eyes on him, jaw setting as he watches her move.
Fucked up again.
When he turns to snap at him, Simon's almost surprised by the blue eyes staring into him. Quizzical, but⌠a mirror.
A smile ticks up on MacTavish's lips before he nods as well. "Got this, L.T., just needs a bit o' time reckon."
Before he can ask, the mutt continues his perimeter walk, whistling softly to himself.
That should have been it.
Of course, Simon knows he should try to say something that doesn't make her freeze like a deer in the headlights, but she never stuck around long after her father's events.
Again MacTavish is assigned to drive her back to the station, grunt work for the newest grunt, and he doesn't make a move to intervene, still mentally licking his wounds. It's not like he doesn't notice how more at ease she is with the Scot.
But the man approaches him, mumbling about a mistakenly picked location, requesting him for backup, with the weather bound to change and a cabin already reserved for their return.
Only the weather had been worse than predicted. She agrees readily to simply turn in for the night and figure out a ticket the next day, insisting that getting on a train isn't worth any possible accident, despite MacTavish's offer.
It would have been a squeeze just the two of them, but the sleeping quarters made it obvious that it was a more normal rental for a family with children.
They'reâŚbulky in comparison to her, it makes sense for them to share the larger bed, and she beelines for the smaller mattress, already checking her phone, likely to see when the next available ticket would be. He should say something. Something normal that'd make her smile, and look at him again. Instead of Johnny.
He should make her laugh.
His trigger finger taps against his thigh as his tongue ties in his mouth.
It's a bit of a surprise when she agrees to drinking as they play cards.
Of course the mutt liked Scotch. Packed it with, as well as a bottle of burbon.
Her laughter rings in his ears, eyes darting to her, and he knows he stares but god he wishes he could reach out and touch her. A tingle in his neck has his eyes on MacTavish, blue eyes so⌠clear that Simon finds himself swallowing. It was strange, how there seemed to be an understanding, though they never discussed it.
When his eyes fall on her again, she's looking at him, smile playing at the edge of her lips.
Another round before she mumbles about sleeping. They exhange some words, Simon can't quite hear, before MacTavish passes her something.
He waits till after she'd bid them goodnight, brushed her teeth.
Only then does he raise a brow at MacTavish.
The mutt's grinning like a wolf. "Don't worry your pretty little head off, L.T., 's a surprise."
A niggling part of his brain tells him to ask.
Instead, he sets his glass down to a refill as he shuffles the cards for their next round.
He wakes with a start, squinting at MacTavish's beaming face before his lagging, potentially hungover brain can even think to check the time. "Johnny, w-"
"Surprise, c'mon."
The questions stop in his brain as he throws the covers off to follow the younger man.
His breath catches in his throat, when he walks into the other room. Her chest rising and falling in sleep.
And he knows he shouldn't be there.
"C'mon, she's wanted you, just makes it easy."
Easy right.
Just make it easy.
She's soft. He'd always figured, in the back of his mind, but to the touch, he couldn't even believe it. So warm and soft.
Simon parts her puffy pussy lips with his thumb and pointer finger.
Presses his tongue flat against her folds as he laps his way up, savoring every moment.
Fu-ck." He grumbles to himself as he shucks his briefs down, giving himself a good tug so he could make this moment worth it. Easy, like he said.
It's like sliding home as he eases himself into her.
âSteaminâ Jesus,â Johnny hisses behind him, reminding Simon of his presence to his utter annoyance, as something that should be between the two of them is shared. âShould see her poor kitty, stuffed to the brim.â
The most he can exert to the Scot is a grumble, but even that's cut off, turned into a soft pant as he bottoms out, forehead resting against her collarbone.
It was⌠Euphoric.
Easy to get lost in the motions, as he bore down, in, through.
Before he's even realized, he's cumming, pressing his face against her neck, almost dizzy with the closeness of her.
Lips finding his have him kiss back instinctively.
Opening his eyes to the blue ones of Johnny. And part of him panics, fully comprehends everything going on, before he tilts his head, as the Scot presses closer.
The twinge of his cock, pulls a moan from him.
"Go on, L.T."
Yeah.
He could do this again, shifting his hips.
All Simon can hear is the plap-plap-plap of his fucking into her pussy, each kiss of his pelvis to the fat of her thighs leaving a wet smear of mess on his heavy balls. Cum making a creamy ring around the base of his cock. Sheâs so hot, itâs like she broke his brain. And she had, had distracted him from living his quiet life, from his job, smiling at Johnny like sheâd wanted the young pup. When heâd been right there. Always had been.
His heart was on his throat as he leans down to press his lips against hers, soft sighs of moans in her sleep sending lightning down his back.
When he pulls back, he's careful, raising his weight to his knees, and-
He's pulled into another kiss by the Scot, his own sigh broken as he tangles his fingers through his mullet, tugging him even closer before he breaks away. "In this together, eh? Your turn then, Johnny."
And it's almost like he can see his tail wagging, as he pulls his pants back on to let him take his place. Their place.
If Johnny minds having his cock covered in his cum, he doesnât let on to it. He kisses across his their girl, her tits, her neck, her lips, as he ruts into her, unable to hold back his moans.
Despite himself, despite that this would be the third for him, Simon palms himself idly, as he watches. For the first time in his life, he wonders at how they look. It was nothing like the porn he'd watched.
It was better.
He let himself feel the tingling in his thighs as his cock twitched with interest. The heat low in his belly.
Their soft moans.
Simon cums again with a shudder, as he watches Johnny lean down to kiss her.
Again, he pulls him in for a kiss after. Leans down to press a kiss against the edge of her lips.
At breakfast, he nurses his tea while he watches MacTavish's back as the Scot whistles to himself, making breakfast.
She enters the room with a yawn, asking how they'd slept. "Lt. Riley, you look rested, that's a nice surprise."
A smiles plays at the edge of her lips, and his pulse quickens.
Okay but imagine sheep!ghost and border collie!reader....
You're really just an intern, some kid who got in because of their family when they should be in college, but you're good enough. Usually price hardly has to make any edits to your work when it ends up on his desk, which is always a plus.
The only thing is you keep...following ghost around.
Not without reason, you always seem to have some report or something you need to talk with him about. But with you at his side, ears perked up and constantly adjusting your speed whenever he shifts...
"I know what yer doing, runt." He finally huffs one day, eyes narrowed. "It's fuckin' rude. Stop it."
"...what? Sir, I don't understand?" You tilt your head, brows furrowed, ears pinned in confusion "I do need your opinion on this stuff, I'm not trying to waste your timeâ"
"Fuckin' hell. Not that." Ghost cuts off, stopping in the middle of the hallway. He watches as you walk along his side, trying to push him to the edge without actually touching him. Trying to herd him.
"Yer herding. Stop it." He gives a pointed look, grabbing you by the scruff to stop the constant shifting.
"What? What's that?" You ask, which is...not the answer ghost expected. Most dog hybrids he's met have smelt that he's a sheep and just assumed they could treat him like one. You seem to be completely unaware of your own behavior, acting more on instinct. Huh.
"Nothing. Forget it." He lets you go and stalks off.
After that, ghost observes how you act around the others. He notices the same behavior, how you try to herd soap or kyle, but being fellow dogs they just laugh and bark with you.
Ghost actually snorts in amusement when he notices you doing the same to price, and it actually working. Herding the captain while he's busy reading a report and not at all paying attention to the pole he would've walked into.
So...you're not trying to be rude to ghost, you're just trying to follow your own instincts. It makes him feel better, and the next time you walk with him he indulgently follows the path your little instincts have chosen.
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He hasn't thought much of humans in the last several decades on this evolving, elusive quest for peace and solitude, but he never really had a reason to. He knows humans. Knows them as this muddled smearâan endless deluge of contradictions; as pharisaic, altruistic, selfish, selfless, wonderful, terrible things: symbiotic to himself and his siblings. Nothing more, nothing less.
But those ideas, those beliefs, are shattered when youâan ordinary humanâwashes up on his island with nothing but the clothes on your back, and a strange, almost unfathomable inability to leave his side no matter where he goes.
You're just something he can't make sense of.
eventual smut. forced proximity. possessive tendencies. under-negotiated kink. all of the imbalances. objectification, loss of agency and autonomy, undefined/dubious consent (in the what's a human to a god variety). rule breaking and the consequences those actions carryâso, also angst. major canon divergence.
i. phronesis, amathiaâCOMING SOON
ii. dikaiosune, adikia
iii. andreia, deilia
iv. sophrosune, akolasia
v. eudaimonia, ekpyrosis
when you said you'd fuck your lieutenant, you never meant for him to overhear. (18+)
you were sitting with a group of girls in the mess. a typical thursday after training, scooping terrible mushy peas into your mouth and trying to pretend like you cared at all for the unseasoned mash it was in your mouth.
a classic game of who would you do? a game that wasn't very hard on a military baseâ¤the men might be the scum of the earth, but they worked out for hours a day and were the only warm bodies near you for a majority of your time. the group of girls you had befriended had an unspoken rule not to hook up with each otherâ¤shit gets messy when you're in close quarters, so you keep it tactical and go for the brainless studs that walk around you (no matter how much you all complain about getting head that finally feels good).
the 141 are not unpopular choices that always come up. nakeema drools over gaz. emily constantly swoons over soap, who she refers to as her "fellow countryman." a few of the girls have intense daddy issues and try not to giggle like schoolgirls when they bring up captain price.
you're apparently the weird one when you mumble out ghost's name between bites of cold ham.
"huh?"
you get a flurry of wide-eyed stares and surprised scoffs. you keep chewing, looking around.
"what?" you shrug.
"ghost? the one with the shittiest personality in the entire world?"
"are you kidding me?" you roll your eyes. "we're not talking about future husbands. i'm thinking about huge man in my bed. besides, you're really gonna tell me that i'm the weird one, when you're panting over some meathead that licks the seat after you get up from it?"
"i thought soap was a panty-stealer."
"he's a dog, that's what he is," you roll your eyes again.
"and ghost is literally the most closed-off, weirdest guy...i mean he doesn't say anything. and he just stares...like he's looking right through you. it's off-putting."
you pick up your tray and stand up.
"yeah, well...fifty quid says his dick is the size of my forearm."
the girls laugh, and you try to hide your smile as you go to drop off your tray. when you turn, you pause momentarily. in the doorway, staring right at you, is none other than your lieutenant.
you tighten your grip on the metal of your tray. you have no idea now how loud you were. did he hear you say his name? did he hear anything you said about him?
oh shit oh shit oh shit, my ass is gonna get handed to me by HRâ¤
he just blinks your way, and then he disappears. your heart releases, and you let out the breath you were holding. you need to be more careful and keep your voice down.
after you drop your tray off, you push the doors open to the mess hall, turning to make your way back to your quarters. when you step out of the building, ghost is there. he's standing, leaning against the wall, eyes on the door as if he was just waiting for the opportunity for you to come out.
you stop there, looking at him. for a few seconds, you just meet his eyes, trying to feel him out. there is no denying the way your throat closes up at the way he looks you up and down.
he definitely heard you.
you freeze up when he stands up straight and starts to walk towards you. it's then that you realize how much bigger ghost is. when he comes to stand at your side, the top of your head barely reaches his shoulders. you swallow as he tilts his head down, dark eyes lidded, and then one gloved finger traces a line from the bone of your wrist to your elbow. he kisses his teeth under the mask, and he shrugs.
"mmm..." he hums lowly. "not quite, love."
oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuckâ¤
"ngghhh..." your mouth falls open as he spreads his legs, pulling down his zipper. like the nasty man he is, he's not wearing any underwear, and your tongue flops out when he pulls his cock free and lets it hang heavy before he takes it into one gloved hand and gives it a nice stroke.
for the third time, you make sure the door to his office is locked, and then you're getting onto your knees, crawling towards him.
"we can lie," you whimper, resting your cheek on his thigh. ghost chuckles low as he thumbs over the weeping tip, red and angry as he squeezes. "you're nearly there, anyways...so big...just like i knew you'd be."
"yeah?"
"mhm," you bite your lip. "knew you'd be nice, too. not so scary."
"y'r not scared o'me, love?"
"not when you're about to come in my mouth."
"right...fuckin' hellâ¤"
you spit it back into his mouth after. tongue on the underside of his cock, letting his cum linger inside. you climb into his lap after and push his mask up, kissing him wet and sticky as you use the slick on your palm to get him nice and hard again. when you sit down on him, he groans, big body all tense and heated as you bring it back down on him heavy and hard.
fuck, he's in your throat, in your guts, you might be hallucinating the bulge in your belly, but you're going to fantasize about this for days when you sit with the girls and have to lie about the most insane lay you've ever had.
ghost might be fucking weird, but his cum is warm inside of you, and his tip curves just right to touch that soft spot and make your vision go blurry. does it matter that he can't hold a conversation when he can wipe your thoughts with a few thrusts of his hips?
does it matter that the girls called him scary? that he struggles to break eye-contact? that he doesn't know how to change his tone so people can tell the difference between a bad joke and a horrible insult? does it matter that he has the most insane, horrifying dead fish eyes when he's making you forget your own name in favor of his own?
you suck it out of his mouth later. after you've sat on his face and ruined his mask, after you've cum on his tongue and nearly deafened him with how hard you squeezed your thighs around his thick head, you put your mouth to his and lick it from between his teeth with a hot groan. he's weird, and he's blunt, and there's no room for anything but perfection when you're under lieutenant riley's command, but right here, in his bed, there's no rank. there's just a really fucking awkward, giant bear-man, and a dick to match that energy.
when you wince trying to sit at the table at breakfast, the girls are all over you. you're staring into dead-fish eyes when you smile and say, "i'll be taking that fifty quid now."
Something about Simon having a river rat girlfriend.
It's not that he doesn't like the States, it's just unbearably muggy, makes the gaiter he wears more of a task than it needs to be. The sun seemingly swirling around him akin to the enemy from Mario, determined to sear him alive.
But his bird loves it. Skips around all morning making a little picnic basket, braiding her hair. Makes sure he has an extra magazine tucked away amongst the sandwiches and sunscreen.
Get's his input on songs for their portable speaker.
He doesn't understand what some of these men are whingeing about.
This shit is easy.
All he has to do is stand patiently as she lathers him up with sunscreen, standing on the footrest of the truck so she can reach his shoulders. Delicate fingers brushing beneath his eyes, making sure to get the back of his ears so they don't blister like last time.
He finds them a secluded area, plopping his chair in shallows under the easy shade, a nice vantage point to watch the opposite woodline, and cuts her loose, calves resting in the cool rush of water.
She plays and plays, neon goggles making imprints on her face as she paddles around looking for shiny rocks. It's a show every time she comes back to him, big soft curves glistening in the summer sun, as she offers her treasures up for inspection.
He watches her splash, deadman float a few feet down river and scramble back again. Watches her flip rocks for bugs and promptly squeal and run when one has the audacity to startle her back.
His favorite is sunscreen time, wrangling her back to him all warm cheeked and smiling, smearing her down in coconut scented lotion, making sure his paws slide under all the margins of her swimsuit, rough palms gliding over the plush of her rear, the sensitive sides of her breasts.
It's another feat to get her to sit still long enough for it to soak in, tugging her ass in his lap and plying her with a chip laden sandwich. She munches away happily.
So no, the mosquitos and damp heat are not his favorite. But sunscreen kisses sure are.
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hello author! i hope ur doing good! i would like to request a scenario wherein the dad!lads are leaving for work but their little ones donât want them to go while clutching onto their legs. how would each of them react in that situation? i need more domestic dad! lads huhuhu thank u <3
Papa Don't Go!- The Love And DeepSpace Men
featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb
genre: fluff fluff
summary: their child(ren) cling onto their leg before they go to work
a/n: hihi anonnie! â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ i hope you're doing good too luv! no rafayel's were harmed in the writing process of this (°ă°) i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading! (âŠËoËâŠ)âĄ
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
â・â§ËĘâĄÉËâ§ď˝Ąâ
Xavier:
The front door creaks open with a groan, making it echo through the quiet house. The noise was enough to stir your son from his peaceful nap. His little eyelids fluttered open, still heavy with so much sleep as he rubbed them with his chubby little fists. He thinks he mustâve slept for a while, and hearing the door open, that means Papa Xavier must be heading to work!
With the tiniest yawn, he carefully slipped out of the low bed, his small feet barely making a sound as they padded softly across the floor. Still half asleep, he staggered toward the door, sleepily shuffling as he wandered out of the room.
Sleepily, your son pads across the floor, his tiny feet making soft thuds as he reaches Xavierâs side. He tugs at the hem of Xavierâs pants, âPapa stay?â He asked with a sleepy smile.
Xavierâs heart melted at the sight. He crouched down to meet his sonâs gaze, brushing his large hand gently through his soft, disheveled hair. âI wish I could..But I have to go. You can stay with mommy, okay? Letâs get you back to mom-â Before he can even finish his sentence, he feels a tiny weight against his leg, his sonâs arm wrapping around his calf. Xavierâs breath hitched as his son tried to tighten and he looked down to see his little boy with the most adorably pitiful pout.
ânoo..stay with me and mama..â His voice muffled as he hid his face in his pants uniform.
Xavier froze for a moment, his chest tightening. He couldnât help but smile through the lump that had formed in his throat. âI have to go, but it wonât take long. I promise.â He murmurs, leaning down to gently peel the boy off his leg, but pauses when he hears light snoring.
Xavier let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. Carefully, he scoops his son into his arms and carries him back to bed, where you were still sleeping peacefully. He tucks you both in, pressing a kiss to your forehead before finally turning back to the door.
Zayne:
Getting to work had become manageable to say so at the least. Zayne had mastered the art of slipping out of your iron grip each morning that was refined over time. But with a new addition to the family, mornings had grown a little more difficult. Heâd started leaving an hour earlier just in case there were any tears that spilled and some clinging that he assumes that she gets from you.
However, nothing could have prepared him for this morning.
Just as he reached for the front door, tiny feet pads quickly toward him and tiny arms wrap tightly around his legs, keeping him frozen in place.
âpapa, donât go..â came a soft, sleepy whine. Her voice was muffled against his pant leg, her eyes were barely open, but surprisingly, her little hands grasped him tightly. He sighed, his chest tightening as he closed his eyes for a moment before kneeling to her level.
âMy love,â he murmurs gently, brushing a few wild strands of hair from her face. âI have to go. Itâs too early for you to be awake right now. You should be sleeping.â he tried to gently unwind her arms from his legs, but the moment he did, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him even tighter. The sudden squeeze made him let out a soft, surprised chuckle.
âCan I go with you?â she asked, her lower lip trembling. He smiles softly, shaking his head as he places a kiss on her forehead.
âIâm afraid youâre not on my shift today,â he said with a quiet laugh. âYouâre scheduled to stay here and be with your mother.â
She clung to him, blinking up at him as she thinks for a moment. âCan you make sure to take care of her while Iâm gone?â
She hesitates for a moment, then gives him a solemn little nod as if accepting a very important mission. He held her close for one last hug before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back to bed. He tucked her gently beside you.
Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her forehead, then yours. And with one last look, he slipped out the door, hoping the day would finish quickly.
Rafayel:
Rafayel crouches down, arms wide open as his kids run straight into them. He scoops them up into a group hug, squeezing them close as he presses soft kisses to the tops of their heads, letting out a heavy sigh after.
âIâm sorry my little guppies..papa has to go now.â His voice tinged with sadness.
He stood up slowly as if the act of physically parting from his family weighed him down, which it in fact did. Tonight, he was off to an exclusive art exhibitionâone to which only artists and collectors were invited. He wished to bring you and the kids along, but Thomas had made it clear, no guests.
As he makes his way to the door, one of his kids jumped at him from behind while the other two rushed in from either side and wrapped themselves tightly around his legs.
âYou-!â
âWAHHHH DONâT GO PAPAA,â one of them wails, their voice quivering. âYeah! Donât go!â Another joins, clinging even tighter to his pant leg.
Rafayel gasps, wobbling unsteadily. âWait..my legs-!â He staggers, then drops dramatically to his knees, the child on his back now riding his shoulders. You watch from the back, already knowing where this is going. This isnât the first time the kids have staged something like this to keep Rafayel home.
Raf groans again, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. âOh no..I think I twisted something..my ankle..yeah, itâs definitely sprained..I canât go to work now..â
The kids gasped. One let out a delighted, âYAYYYâ clearly only hearing the part about him not going to work. The other frowns, eyes wide with concern. âAre you okay, papa?â She asks softly, patting his legs as if it were to make him feel better. âDoes this help?â
He groans a little louder, but hides the corner of his mouth thatâs curling into a smile. âI think..I think I should stay home with my guppies today. What do you guys think?â
Instantly, cheers erupted, and tiny arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. He was quickly buried under a pile of laughter and squeals, not caring how mad Thomas was going to be tonight.
Sylus:
âsweetie-â
âno.â
This had been going on for at least five minutes. Sylus had to hand it to herâhis daughter was nothing if not persistent. She stood firm in what she thought was right while clinging stubbornly to his pant leg like it would hold him down.
If she kept this up for a while longer, Sylus wouldâve started to accept the fact that his daughter might actually win this round. It was quite adorable that she thinks sheâs able to stop him, and in a way, she kind of was. She was one of his soft spots, just like you. He was honestly impressed.
With a chuckle, he closed his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His little dove is just like her mother. âYou really donât want to make this easy for me, hm?â
She met his gaze and gave a fierce little adorable nod, her white pigtails bouncing. âWell, how about a deal? Whatâs it going to take for you to let go?â
âStay.â She says softly, tilting her head. âMommy and I will be sad if you go to work.â Her voice softened into a pout, eyes wide.
Sylusâs smile deepened, âSweetie,â he said gently, âMommyâs strong even when Iâm not here. Do you think you can be strong like her? Just for a little while?â
She hesitates for a moment, lips twitching as she considers it. Slowly, her arms uncurl from his leg. âOkay, papa..â she murmurs, looking away, defeatedly. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout.
With a soft sigh, he cups her small cheeks with his large hands, thumb brushing over her skin. âHey..Since you were so good..â He said teasingly, âHow about I bring back something special for you?â Her eyes immediately lit up.
âAnd for mommy too?!â She bounced, clapping her little hands. Sylus richly laughs, pulling her into his arms to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Maybe that love she has for you is a part of him that she carries.
âOf course.â
Caleb:
Caleb chuckles when he feels the sudden grip of small arms wrap tightly around his legs. âHey, câmon, donât make this harder for your old pops,â he says with a soft laugh, adjusting the brim of his colonelâs cap.
He bends slightly, reaching down to ruffle their hair, but both kids turn their faces into his legs, refusing to let go. A smile curls on his lips, his eyes fluttering closed for just a second. These are the moments that remind him that heâs done something right as a father.
âAlright, alright, you guys got me,â he says, playing along. âSo..whatâll it take to get clearance for takeoff?â
The two exchange a glance as identical grins break across their faces. âLetâs do airplanes again, Dad!â his son shouts. âYeah! Lift us up, daddy!â his daughter joins in.
Caleb lifts them both up into the air with ease. They squeal and giggle, their laughter echoing throughout the house as they soar around the living room. Caleb grins wide, watching them float, their fingertips grazing the ceiling.
âThis is your captain speaking,â he announces in his nice pilot voice. âCaptain Caleb is assisting two very important co-pilots on their path.â They glide and spin around the air until, with his careful guidance, they come in for a soft landing in your waiting arms.
âWha-dad!â his son protests, attempting to be free from your arms, only to be gently held back by a gravitational nudge.
Caleb approaches, ruffling their hair before planting a kiss on each little forehead. âAlright, co-pilots,â he says, crouching to meet their eyes. âYour mission now is to stay on land with mom while I keep my eyes on the sky. Think you can handle that?â The children hesitate, then nod slowly.
He straightens, meeting your eyes. âI'll be home soon. I promise.â His hand lingers on your cheek as he gives you a long, lingering kiss.
From below, you both, two small voices groan in unison. âewwww!â He chuckles against your lips, pulling back with a grin on his face. Even pilots need a little fuel before takeoff.
ĘÉ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune
ĘÉ beta read by @ilovemitsuya MWAH âĄ(ËÍ ËÍ )
ĘÉ đđ˘đˇđŞđ¨đ˘đľđŞđ°đŻ:
ĘÉ my other works if you want to check it out! The Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2
ĘÉ Others places you can find me:
Wattpad
Twitter ( but idk how to use it or interact with people )
ranking the best things I have heard surgeons say mid-surgery:
1. "Five second rule!" while scrubbed, after dropping a sterile scalpel on the floor (no they did NOT pick it up again but I swear everyone's buttholes puckered)
2. (spoken during the closing of a particularly long and difficult case) "Nurse - my tunes." :heavy metal starts blasting:
3. Gently to a fretful patient, pre-anaesthesia: "It's going to be okay. I promise, I've dealt with worse."
As soon as the patient is unconscious: "This is literally the worst thing I've ever seen."
4. [okay this one was a med student] "Wowwww, that's so gross!!"
Reg: "Please remember that [patient] is awake for this procedure."
Student to patient: "Oh my god. I am so sorry, that was really unprofessional - "
Patient, cheerfully, also engrossed with what's happening inside them on the screen: "Nah - it's, like, super gross, right?"
5. [another procedure where the patient couldn't be put under GA] Patient: *starts singing country roads midway through the procedure*
Surgeon: *shrugs and joins in with surprisingly good harmony*
Raspberry Girl
Previous + masterlist + AO3
Simon Riley/female reader
CW: 18+ explicit sexual content, daddy kink, caretaking.
He expected to find you distracted.Â
You didnât text or call after breakfast, or your usual lunch time, but he was too bogged down with work to get off base to physically check in, lay eyes on you, make sure youâre alright. If youâre distracted enough you forgot to text, heâs worried it means youâve lost track of the day completely, forgotten to eat or drink something other than coffee. Your little blue icon on the map tells him youâre definitely at work, but thatâs all he has until heâs able to get away.Â
When he does, and he slips through the back door of the bakery into the kitchen, he finds a scene he did not expect-Â
and immediately knows the rules you broke today wonât result in a punishment.Â
At least, not tonight.Â
Youâre standing at your work table, the rectangular butcherâs block that nearly stretches the span of the room, hands covering your face, hyperventilating. Youâre covered in flour and thereâs dried batter on your elbows, your neck, your clothes, a chaotic mess strewn across the tabletop. Â
He calls your name softly and you turn with wide, wet eyes, a trembling lower lip.Â
âWhat-â you nearly trip over yourself to get to him, falling into his arms, your tear stained face pressing against his chest, your own heaving. âShhh, youâre okay, you're okay.â The front door swings open and Mara is there, pointing at the table, you, before making a motion with her hand like sheâs cutting air in front of neck with a grim expression. Whatever it was, or is, itâs derailed the day completely, left you in tatters. He wishes you would have just called him, followed your rules so he could have helped, been here for you, with you, supported you. He nods at her, and cups your face, tries to tilt it up into his as you sob. "Okay, shhh, I've got you, I'm here. Let me look at you baby, let me see your eyes." They're laden with tears, broken with stress and anxiety, everything in you shaking and sparking like a live wire.
âI b-b-broke the ov-oven this morning,â you cry, clinging to his shirt, âI tried to- t-tried to fix it but... and I broke m-my rules..â His heart chips a little bit at the raw distress in your voice, the way your chest heaves like youâve just run a marathon. He has to fix it, soothe it, bring you back and take care of you, of everything, properly.
âOkay sweetheart, you're alright,â Your face turns, ear pressing over where his heart thumps in his chest, and he automatically covers the other one with his palm, blocking out the world around you but continuing to murmur softly so you can feel the vibration of his words as he rubs your back. âYouâre alright baby, everythingâs gonna be okay. Iâve got you.âÂ
âIâm sorry, I'm sorry, m-my rules-" Â
âWeâre not going to worry about the rules or what happened with them right now. We're going to get you home and taken care of, and weâll talk about the rules when youâre feeling better. Do you understand?â You shake your head, still struggling to take a deep breath. âWhat is your number one rule baby, tell me.âÂ
âListen to daddy.âÂ
âGood girl. I will tell you when itâs time to think about what happened today with your rules. Do you understand me?â You sniffle, but nod.Â
âYes daddy.âÂ
âLeft arm.â One of the reasons he bought this house over the other ones is the tub. Itâs massive, jacuzzi style with jets, perfect for a soak, or a scrub, which is whatâs happening now. He turns your fingers up, runs the washcloth across them until the flour beneath is gone, soaping you all the way up to your shoulders, your collarbone thatâs half hidden by bubbles.Â
âThank you.â He kisses your forehead.Â
âThank you for letting me take care of you, sleepy girl.â Once he got you out of your dirty clothes and into the bath you calmed considerably, exhaustion quickly setting in once you hit the hot water.Â
âYouâre welcome daddy.â A small mischievous smile tugs at the corner of your lips, and he chuckles. Sass.
He trails the washcloth across your chest and you arch your back a little bit, turning into the fabric as it brushes your nipples.Â
âAlright?â This is not the moment to push you. Emotionally off balance and vulnerable, it would do more harm than good to test your limits.Â
âYeah,â your teeth find your bottom lip, and he moves downward, across your belly to your mons. You moan, hips flexing, looking for more between your legs and he rubs your cheek.Â
âDo you want daddy to make you feel good sweet girl?âÂ
âYes please.â He lets the washcloth sink to the bottom of the tub.Â
âOpen your knees fâme, like that, good girl.â He takes it slow. Heâd ask you to get out if he thought youâd be comfortable, but he doesnât want to move you, disturb how relaxed you are. When he slides down your pussy to your hole, heâs relieved to find youâre very wet, and there will be enough to last until the water in the tub starts to dissolve it, though heâll have to be quick. You whine, wiggling as he thumbs your clit, middle finger of the same hand carefully pressing inside you to the first knuckle, the surprised gasp on your lips swallowed by his own. Youâre already clenching down around him, trying to bring his finger deeper. So bloody tight.
âAh-â He works up to his second knuckle, watching your expression, the crease of your eyebrows, the flutter of your lashes. Your grip tightens to the side of the tub, walls squeezing him as he slides all the way, circling your clit and angling upward inside you, dragging along your walls like heâs motioning for you to come here, all of his touch flexing in tandem. Your face is twisting, almost like youâre trying to resist, mentally digging your heels in. Youâre getting in your own head, trying to shove your orgasm away, running from it. Punishing yourself.
He knows what you need.
âYou had such a hard day didnât you baby,â you whimper, "you worked so hard today, and daddyâs girl deserves to feel good after having such a bad day.â He passes over your clit in a faster rhythm, again and again as he strokes in and out of your pussy, bringing you to the edge.Â
 âI-âÂ
âItâs okay sweetheart, you can come. Show daddy how good you are and come on my hand.â A lever is pulled, a dam released.
âOh- oh, fuck,â your feet kick, water sloshes, and your face is like heaven, expressive and euphoric, just for him. âIâm coming, IâmâŚâ your muscles tense and he stays with you, wringing every drop of your pleasure free until you go limp, chest heaving.Â
After a while, he finds the washcloth. He methodically picks up where he left off, starting between your thighs, and then soaping the rest of you, making sure he gets all the remnants of the day cleaned off. You smile, a little loopy, eyelids heavy. Time to get out. âNo sleeping in the tub, câmon.âÂ
âBut-âÂ
âNo buts. Up.â You pout. Itâs adorable, and heâs a sucker, but the risk of you falling asleep is too great. âIâll let you stay in until youâre all wrinkled next time, but you can barely hold your head up right now. Come on.â
He gets you dried off and into some clothes, pajama bottoms and one of his t-shirts before settling you in bed with a cup of tea, bare feet sticking out from the blankets so he can rub them, trying to knead away some of the tension in your arches.Â
âYou need better shoes.âÂ
âMmmh, I know.â You had turned your switch on, but it sits abandoned now as you drain your chamomile just before snuggling down into the pillows, slowly losing your battle to sleep. âDaddy...âÂ
ââIâm here baby.â You sigh and reach blindly, looking for him with closed eyes.Â
âCan you hold me?â Itâs not even a question, you own him.
âOf course.â He slides in behind you and you turn, nestling your nose against his neck. A whole world, right here. An entire life, his, curled up in his arms, the safest place you'll ever be.
âNight.â Half yawn, half sigh, completely exhausted. He brushes his lips across your forehead.Â
Raspberry Girl
Previous + masterlist + AO3
Simon Riley/female reader
CW: 18+ daddy kink, corruption kink, size kink, talks you through it, spanking.
The fever broke the next day.
You ran hot and cold all night and into the morning, sweating and shivering until the sun came up, pushed him away when your skin was slick with sweat, pulled him back when your fingers turned to ice.Â
His poor baby girl. He did everything he could to ease you, settle you, keep you comfortable. You were barely conscious when he gave you water and more meds, hardly aware as he stripped you bare and wrapped you in your duvet, giving up on keeping your shirt dry and clean.Â
Dawn came, and he called you out of work for the rest of the week, assured Mara you were fine, promised youâd text her when you were feeling up to it. You need a break, he explained, and she agreed, said sheâd handle it.Â
Heâd take care of the rest.Â
Your feet slap against the hard wood floor towards the living room where heâs settled on your couch, laptop open, last email responded to, headache blooming behind his eyes. John mentioned there was a lot of admin work when it came to being a captain, but he undersold it. By a lot.Â
Doesnât matter right now, he has more important things to focus on. âHi sweet girl.âÂ
âI- youâre- did you⌠did you call me out of work?â Your color is healthy, along with your voice, and overall you look a lot better, back to normal, even with your shoulders high and tight, coiled with anxiety.Â
âYouâre not going back until Monday.â A string is pulled, releasing the tension of your uncertainty, confidence in his decisions, in him, growing a bit more day by day. âCome here baby.â You settle between some cushions and his side, but before you can lay your head on his arm, he shifts to face you. âHow are you feeling?âÂ
âBetter.â Youâre still only in a shirt and panties, legs exposed from where you slump into the couch. âThank you,â you whisper, giving him your eyes, a long look, dripping with trust, âfor being here⌠for taking care of me.â He cups your cheek.
âIâm always going to take care of you, sweetheart. Iâm always going to be here.â Building the belief you can depend on him or anything, go to him for everything, takes time. Just because he tells you, doesnât mean itâs automatically instinctive, but the other side of the coin needs to be addressed. âWe need to discuss a few things.â You watch him apprehensively. Â
âOkay.âÂ
âYou had multiple opportunities to tell you werenât feeling well on Tuesday, but chose not to. Do you want to tell me why?â Your breath catches, stutters your diaphragm in quick succession.Â
âI didnât want to bother you. I thought⌠I figured Iâd just go home and sleep it off and then Iâd feel fine and thereâd be no reason to even give it a second thought, I didn't... I wasn't sure if you were busy at work and I didnât want to be an inconvenience, I-â His hand curves around your skull, fingers at your nape, thumb pressed to your lips, stopping the stream of worry before it builds into a rollercoaster.
âYouâre not an inconvenience, youâre mine. Youâre mine to take care of, and you donât make the decisions about whatâs bothersome to me. There isnât a single thing about you that could ever bother me. Do you understand?â You nod, lips warm beneath the pad of his thumb. âWords, baby girl.âÂ
âYes daddy, I understand.âÂ
âI know this is a big transition and a lot to learn, youâre going to make mistakes, and so will I. Iâve already made one by not introducing your rules sooner, and weâre going to fix that now.â A rod of steel supports his words, and you straighten. His little solider at attention.
âRulesâŚâ you trail off, a little perplexed, a little curious, too fucking cute.Â
âRules. Youâre my priority, and itâs important youâre safe, happy, and healthy. The rules are easy to follow, but if theyâre broken, there will be consequences. Are you ready to hear them?â You nod nervously, and he takes your hand, squeezes it. âYouâll always listen to daddy. Youâll be in bed, at bedtime, unless youâre told otherwise. Youâll eat three meals a day, which includes an actual breakfast and instead of your usual half gallon of coffee, you'll drink water instead.âÂ
âB-but-â He raises an eyebrow, and you press your lips together. âSorry daddy.âÂ
âThatâs okay, but youâre just listening now, okay?âÂ
âOkay.âÂ
âGood girl. You can have two cups, but no more. When youâre at work, youâll check in after each meal, even if you donât get a response. I don't always have my phone, but the rules still apply. If Iâm away,â it's acid in his throat, squeezing his windpipe, trying to choke him, but heâll cross that bridge when he comes to it, âyouâll still send your messages. You will always consider your safety before doing anything, like walking ten blocks home with a fever.â Your face twists up with guilt. âYouâll tell me whenever you're scared, or anxious, or overwhelmed, whether itâs face to face, or through a text or phone call." He gives you a second, waits and watches, analyzes all the flickers and flutters in your expression. The moment it hits, your relief, your realization, a weight lifts from his shoulders. "Thatâs all we have for now, sweet girl. We're starting pretty basic and will adjust as things change. Iâll write them down so itâs easier to keep track of, but these are your rules, and Iâm very serious about them, because Iâm very serious about you.â He pulls you into his arms, settles you against his chest and rubs your back. Now for the hard part. "Okay?"
"Okay."
"And if you had known them, would you have walked home on Tuesday?"
"No, I wouldn't have."
âItâs okay baby,â he skims his nose across the top of your head, dots a kiss at your hairline. âYou didnât know, but weâre going to use it as a learning opportunity.âÂ
âWe are?â He tightens his hold.Â
âIâm going to give you a punishment, so you have an idea what to expect for the future. Stand up.â You untangle yourself from his arms, rising in front of him, trembling. You're standing on the edge of a cliff, the roof of a building, and the only thing below is him, waiting to catch you. It's a test of trust, of progress, one he believes you won't fail. âItâs okay to be nervous. New things can be scary and there will a lot of them. D'you trust me to take care of you?âÂ
âYes daddy.â It eases an ache in his heart, the one that hates seeing you unsettled, and he shifts his legs into a ninety degree angle, patting his thigh. âWhat⌠what are we doing?âÂ
âDaddyâs going to spank you.â Your eyes go wider than saucers.Â
âY-youâre going to spank me?â You squeak, taking a half step away towards the coffee table as he pulls your wrists together and then holds them with one hand, pushing you down over his knees.Â
âYouâre only getting five spanks, and if youâre very good, youâll get a reward.âÂ
âI d-donât know, canât I umâŚâ Your shirt comes up over your bottom, but he leaves your underwear in place. âI c-can do something else. Maybe⌠make my bed? Or do the dishes?â He laughs, enjoying the way you shiver as he rubs his palm over your cheeks, warming the flesh.Â
âYouâre getting a spanking, little girl. I want you to count after each one, and when we get to five, weâll stop. Ready?â Five. It's nothing, but not to you. It's alien, it's scary, it's an unknown world you're brand new to.
This place was made for you, this home he built in his heart, this world he crafted with his bare hands, all of it, is for you. Only for you, forever.
But it's still new.
He gives you some time, your needed space, and when your lungs expand with a deep breath, he draws back-Â
And swings.Â
The sound of his palm making contact with your flesh is music, your little shocked howl combined with the ripple of your cheek, all of it coming together in perfect harmony-
but something is missing. "Are you going to count, or do I need to start over?"
"O-one," you warble, sucking in a big breath.
"Good girl." The second is the same and you clench, even though these are the softest slaps heâs ever dealt. âRelax your bottom baby girl, thatâs it.â You groan out your third with your feet kicking, pant your fourth, and on the fifth, you shiver and shriek.Â
But you donât cry. You donât break.
He didnât think you would. You have a soft strength to you, one that comes from navigating a world that doesn't understand you.
He kisses your trembling lower lip as he hauls you up, evaluates your expression, checking for true fear, panic, satisfied when he doesnât find it.Â
âMy brave girl, I'm so proud of you.â he murmurs, urging you onto your back beside him on the couch, thighs slung over his. You grunt at the contact, raw ass meeting the cushion, but donât complain. âYou took that so well.âÂ
âI d-did?âÂ
âYou did.â Heâs good at this now, giving enough but not too much, honoring your need for slower steps. Theyâre the only way the mission will result in success. He rubs your feet, presses his thumbs into an arch as you whimper. Youâre still slightly tense so he keeps going until you turn boneless, limp, taking his time, indulging in the quiet passing of time, a long moment spent with you. âFeel good?âÂ
âMmm, yeahâŚâÂ
âDo you remember when I said youâd get a reward?â He keeps going, up your calves to your knees, working slow patterns around to the backside of your thighs before revisiting your feet, up and down, again and again until your relaxation starts to become something else, something that has you squirming.Â
âY-yeah,â your exhale is shaky. Youâre so responsive, already on edge just by some simple pressure, a light massage, and thereâs a wet spot darkening your light blue panties.Â
âAre you a little sensitive?â He skates up toward your hip and across, dragging his fingertips under your shirt across your belly. You giggle. âTicklish?âÂ
âUm, y-yes.â He keeps going, squeezing, stroking your skin, dipping below the hem of your underwear carefully, testing your resistance. When thereâs none, he goes further, and you buck into his touch, inadvertently sliding his fingers down to your pussy. âOh.â Slick is seeping out between your folds, sticking to your underwear. Youâre not just wet, youâre soaked, to the point where if he spanked your little cunt itâd splash.Â
âOh baby, youâve made a mess,â he grazes your seam and you grab his wrist, holding on tight, mouth moving with no sound coming out. He wants to see, wants to inspect, wants to memorize every inch of you, but heâs not sure if youâre ready, and youâve never said it outright, but he knows youâre self conscious.Â
Still-Â
He splays his hand across your stomach. âDaddy wants to see your pussy sweet girl, can I look?â You shift nervously, but stare up into his eyes with so much trust it nearly kills him, finally nodding with your fingers gripping the couch cushions. âWords, sweetheart.âÂ
âYes daddy.âÂ
âSuch a good girl.â He rolls your underwear down to mid-thigh, mouth watering when dewy drops of slick web from the your lips to the cotton, curly hair soaking wet. Christ. Like this, he canât spread you open, but just the smell of you alone has him leaking in his pants. âYouâre so pretty baby, what a perfect, precious pussy.â He could tell you all the things you have to look forward to right now, break your brain a bit if he wanted. How heâs going to inspect you, train you, shave you, stretch you out, fill you up, plug you up, teach you about toys and edging and forced orgasms. Show you how perfect, how beautiful you are every single day, make sure you know it, all the way to your soul.Â
He canât do any of that now, but he needs to go farther, a fiend for a fix. Youâre already half laid over his lap, so itâs easy to grab your calves. âIâm going to fold your legs up a bit. Be still for me, there we go,â he bends you at the waist, flexing your knees outward to expose you, your hole, your bottom, cheeks glossy all the way to the couch. âDoinâ so well. Do you touch yourself?âÂ
âSometimes b-but I canât always⌠finish.â Poor baby. Heâs sure you get caught up in your head over it, trip yourself into losing the edge.Â
âThatâs okay, daddyâs going to make sure you have plenty of orgasms from now on. Can you clench for me? Show daddy what your little hole looks like when it squeezes?â You choke on a breath but your pussy pulses. Youâre tight enough he could hurt you, and even with all the prep, he knows the first time wonât be easy. âHas anyone ever been inside you?âÂ
âFingers. Iâve h-had two boyfriends, and theyâve⌠fingered me. And gone down but I didnât really like it.â You whisper, and the possessive, obsessed monster in his heart comes alive. Fuck. You lock up. âIs that⌠is that bad?âÂ
âNo, baby, no.â He let the silence linger for too long and it ate at you, twisted your thoughts until they turned sour. His mistake. âIâm just thinking about how my cock is going to be the first one you ever take, and that makes daddy really happy.â First⌠and last. You suck in a sharp breath.
âOh.â If he doesnât put a pin in this immediately, heâs going to end up fucking you right here on the couch, far before youâre ready for him.Â
âYouâve been so good for me, are you ready for your reward?â You nod enthusiastically. So fucking cute. âThat sounds good, doesnât it?â He drags your panties back up to your hips and then sits you up as you blink, confused.Â
âWhat-âÂ
âItâs okay, câmere.â He leads you over his thigh, planting your knees on either side, encouraging you down until youâre sitting directly on his leg, vibrating. His little leaf in the wind.Â
âI d-donât know⌠what to do.â He gently places his hands on your hips.Â
âI know, but you donât have to worry, I'm going to teach you. Iâm going to take away all that stuff in your head that makes it hard for you to orgasm sometimes.â You jerk, eyes rivaling a full moon, lips parted and panting already. âYouâre wet, which means,â he slides you forward and you moan, âyour little clit is swollen, your pussy wants to come.â You twitch in his hold, seeking friction. âWhen you touch yourself at home, do you feel how hard it is?â You nod, sinking down, looking for the relief. âThatâs your clit poking its head out from its hood, looking for something to touch it, rub it, but you donât always have to use your hands.â He leads you into a rhythm, grazing your neck with his teeth at the same time. âAll you need to do is ride.â You follow his guidance, gliding against his jeans, wide eyes turning half lidded, picking up speed as sparks fly between your legs. Youâre a drug, youâre his drug, a precious, rare, one in a million thing heâd burn the earth for. âGood girl, look at you, rubbing your pussy all over daddyâs thigh. Does it feel good?âÂ
âYes- ah,â you whimper, and he shakes his head.Â
âYes who, baby.âÂ
âYes d-daddy, it feels so good, fu-â you bump the wide crown of his cock, hard and leaking down his pant leg, and screech to a stop. âI-is thatâŚâ He canât resist taking your hand and spreading your palm over the length, soaking up your shocked expression.Â
âYeah sweet girl. Thatâs daddyâs cock.â Youâre still his little fawn, exploring on trembling legs, staring at him with your mouth hanging open, and he chuckles as he sticks his thumb in it. âDonât worry. Weâll build up to it.â He pulls out of your mouth and slips his hand under your shirt, pinching your nipple. You hiss.Â
âOw-â Leaning back with an arm behind his head, leg shoving upward, throwing you off balance just enough you have to hold onto his shoulders.Â
âWant me to show you what itâll be like when I bounce you on my cock?âÂ
âUm, uh... Iâll... I'll fall?â your brow furrows as you try to find a rhythm again.
âIâd never let you fall baby, I promise.â Itâs a solemn vow. Wouldnât let you fall here, or anywhere, ever, something youâll learn in time.Â
He stabilizes you, hands back on your hips, and then picks up a steady pace, your fingernails digging into his forearms, clinging to him for dear life.Â
Just the way he likes it.Â
It doesnât take long for your eyes to glaze over, the effort of frantically trying to keep up with being bounced on his leg slowly turning into clumsy, desperate movements, shoving yourself down against him again and again, trying to find that sweet spot, the release you need.Â
The only correction you need is when your lashes flutter. âKeep your eyes open when you come for me. Always on me.â You nod, looking up at the last second as you go rigid, thighs trying to snap shut around his, and he keeps you in place as chase your orgasm. âThere it is, what a good girl, coming on daddy,â your breath hitches, half moan, half twisted scream and he pets you soothingly, âThat's it, ride it baby, ride it out for me.â You do until youâre in tatters, shuddering in his hold, wet cheeks pressed to his neck as he rocks you. âMy perfect, sweet girl.â He lays you down, kisses the inside of your wrist when you refuse to let go. Tears are still flowing down your temples and into your hair, but he shoves away the side of him that wants to spread you wide and fuck you until thereâs more.Â
You need something else now. He suspects this is the first time you've experienced something like this, an emotional release after an orgasm, emotions, tension, all of those things in your head, cut free and running rampant, spilling out of you to him, and it's his job to take them, carry them, life them from your shoulders.
He never gave aftercare a second thought when he was younger. Fuck and leave, thatâs all it ever was until he realized how fulfilling it was to take something apart and put it back together, to give someone everything they need, control every aspect to ensure they were safe and happy and warm, comfortable all the way to their bones. Heâs glad he discovered it before, all the trial and error long over, a methodical approach and understanding left in its place, just so he can give it all to you.Â
Thereâs a wet spot on his jeans from where you soaked all the way through, and he grabs a blanket over the back of the couch, tucking it in around your sides. When he tries to stand, you track him without breaking focus, still clinging to his shirt. "Shhh, easy. You're alright." he curls around you, blocks out the light, holds you tight to him and murmurs in your ear gently. "My sweet little berry girl, daddy's got you. I'm here."
You settle after a while, your cheeks drying, muscles relaxing, and he's finally able pull away. "Iâm going to get you some water, and then when youâre ready, weâll go get you in a bath and into some clean clothes.â He kisses your temple, breathing in the sex and sweat, tasting your tears. âStay still, I'll be right back.â You nod sleepily. Heâll need to feed you too, and get some cream on your ass, but itâs one step at a time right now.Â
And heâs going to enjoy every single second of it.Â
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nsfw (18+). includes aphrodisiacs, dry humping, rubbing cock over panties, possessive!caleb, caleb is gentle at first until you piss him off, this is basically âtesting caleb's patience: the ficâ, unprotected sex, creampie, i have to mention that caleb is possessive twice because caleb says some freaky stuff, sappy confession during sex, happy (horny) ending <3 likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!
Caleb doesn't accept love letters and chocolates whenever Valentine's Day comes along. However, girls directly stuff them into his bag without his knowledge sometimes, and you take it upon yourself to eat the sweets because Caleb would just throw it straight to the trash otherwise.
âIt's a waste,â you'd always say. âYou might not like them back, but they still made the effort to make chocolate for you.â
And then Caleb would shake his head, frowning, âThough most of them mean well, sometimes they put weird stuff in the food. So if I were you, I'd spit out that cupcake, pipsqueak.â
You usually don't heed his warningsâCaleb's always been kind of an overthinker. Now, though, you regret not listening to him as an unfamiliar heat spreads across your body, your core throbbing as you feel yourself dripping in your panties.
...The panties that's rubbing against Caleb's crotch right now, soaking the fabric of his pants while you grind down on him. Caleb's expression looks like a mix of confusion, worry, and arousal, his hands hovering above your waist as if unsure where to touch you. âNnâ hey, what's gotten into you? Do you even know what you're doing right now?â
You see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he nervously swallows, and you start feeling something poking you at your clothed core. Caleb sits up on the sofa where you pushed him down a while ago, grabbing your hands on his shoulders. âC'mon, tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong.â
You whimper, your body collapsing on top of his. He quickly scoops you up, one hand holding the back of your head, the other resting on your lower back, ensuring you're properly seated on his thighs.
âI... I feel weird,â you pant, clutching the front of his shirt. âI'm dizzy, and my body is hot all over. My...â you swallow down your embarrassment, âmy pussy feels empty... Caleb, can't you help me? Please?â
Almost imperceptibly, his grip on you tightens by a fraction. He sighs, angling your head to make you look at him in the eye. Perhaps it's the trick of the light, but Caleb's face is a flustered pink. âI can't do that. You're going to regret it when you turn back to normal and get all weird about it.â He glances at the chocolates you ate on the table, brows furrowed. âAphrodisiac chocolate... I should've known. Then you wouldn't have become like this...â
Your mind is in a daze. Your body feels unusually heavy, but your head feels like it's floating. Most of what he said is lost on you, and at this moment, the only thing you can focus on is that Caleb is looking at something else. You grab both of his cheeks, forcibly turning his attention to you. âPlease help me, Caleb...â Clumsily, you lift up your hips, pressing your cunt against the tent in his pants. It glistens with your wetness, and Caleb can't help but groan when you rub the tip with your thumb. âIt hurts... I need this inside me...â
Caleb has always adhered to your whims, but even he has his limits. He pinches your cheek, âI can't put it inside, idiot, I don't have a condom. I just have to make you cum, right?â He gestures for you to pick up the hem of your skirt, sucking in a breath when he sees how soaked you are. âFuck....â
The entire crotch area is damp, and if he looks carefully, he can even see the faint shape of your clit. Curiously, he draws circles on it, breathing heavily when a fresh glob of slick stains your underwear. âThat's hot...â
He pulls down his zipper, releasing his cock from his boxers. You gasp softly at the sight. He's long and thick, arching to a beautiful curve, colored almost red from the strain of holding back. He gives himself a few experimental pumps, moans coming from his mouth as he masturbates at the sight of you, holding up your own skirt to give him a perfect view of your wet panties, an innocent, frilly pair he can't wait to ruin.
He positions his cock to your folds, aiming at the spot your hole should be if not covered by your underwear. You both groan at the first slide, his pre-cum further soaking the fabric of your ruined panties. He wraps himself in his fist, teasing your clit as he pumps into his hand. More pearls of white spurt out of his tip. âAh, fuck, that's good... so good...â
âAh, ah, Caleb!â
You move your hips, moaning while he rubs himself against your cunt. The warmth of his cock is driving you crazy, and the added friction of Caleb rubbing your nipple through your clothes makes you even wetter than you already are. He's biting his lip, dazed eyes staring at your body appreciatively. âI'm taking this off, baby.â
He impatiently runs his hand through the buttons of your clothes, some of them popping off to clatter on the floor. âH-hey, I liked this shirtâ haa...!â
âI'll buy you a new one,â he grunts, mouthing at one of your tits, sucking as if anything would come out. He unclasps your bra one-handed, throwing it over your shoulder. âThese things are fucking annoying...â
Finally, he gets tired of rubbing you over your clothes. He lifts the side of your panties, sliding his cock inside to directly grind against your pussy. âShit, that's more like it,â he moans loudly, your wetness gliding down his balls. âYou feel so good.â
âCaleb, put it inside already,â you whine, scrunching up the fabric of your skirt in your fists. âThis isn't enough for you either, hnn, right...? Give me your cock, please...â
Caleb grits his teeth, holding your hips to stop you from dropping on his dick. âDidn't I tell you I don't have a condom?â
âI don't care!â you struggle in his hold. âFuck me, c'mon... it hurts...! If you don't...â
You pant against his ear, knowing exactly what you're getting into, drugged or not, â...I'll ask Zayne to fuck me instead.â
The effect is instantaneous. He pulls out, replacing his cock with two fingers plunging inside you at once, hitting deep all the way inside. You choke, gasping out for breath as his hand doesn't stop, slick jetting out of your cunt with every push of his fingers. His clothes are getting soaked, but Caleb doesn't care about them at all, coldly glaring at your face twisted in pleasure.
âSo you're telling me you'd be fine with just anyone?â He's chuckling, but he doesn't sound like he's happy. âFuck. I should've just done this from the start, then.â
He grabs two of the chocolates, popping one in his mouth. When he finishes swallowing, he places the other one in his mouth again, but then he suddenly grabs your jaw. âOpen your mouth, slut.â
He pulls you in for a kiss, mouths locking together. The chocolate melts from the heat, his tongue licking at yours as he's forcing you to swallow. He doesn't let you go until he's sure you've eaten all of it, drool dripping from the corner of your lips.
âWe're not stopping until you learn I'm the only one who gets to see you like this,â he grunts, taking out his fingers and slathering your slick on his cock to make it wet. âI'm the only one who gets to call you mine.â
âHaa... haa...â
Clothes are strewn messily on Caleb's bedroom floor, the mattress squeaking with each thrust of his hips. You're on your back, one leg hooked over Caleb's shoulder, staring into space as you're fucked absolutely stupid.
âFuck, I can't stop my hips....â Caleb's still fucking into you, hasn't stopped for the past hour. The effects of the aphrodisiac have probably passed after the first two rounds, but his cock shows no signs of softening after release. He cums another load into you, overflowing from your pussy to spread into his sheets. âAh, hng, shit... Hey, I told you not to waste it.â
He pulls out, pressing his fingers inside your loose hole to fuck his cum back in. You make a sound of protest, already feeling full.
âAre you starting to regret what you said now?â He grabs the back of your thighs, pressing your legs next to your ears. âToo late for that, though.â
Caleb groans, sloshing his cum inside your cunt with his dick. You helplessly grab at the sheets, moaning brokenly. His pelvis rubs against your engorged clit on every snap of his hips, driving you to squirt on his abs again, his torso glistening with your mess.
âYou're squirting again? How many times have you cum?â Caleb laughs meanly, sucking another possessive mark among the smattering of hickeys he's already left along your collarbones. âNasty girl...â
He leans back, getting a better view of your body. There are traces of him everywhere, from the hickeys on your neck, his cum on your chest because you couldn't swallow everything he poured in your mouth, and the faint bite marks on your inner thighs when he paid the favor and ate you out.
He presses a kiss on your chest, staring at you with dark eyes. âIf you didn't say that, I would've been patient with you. Fingered you loose before putting my cock inside, making sure you're comfortable... I would've helped you ride out the effects of the aphrodisiac and never speak of it again. After all, to you, I'm just family.â He nuzzles against your cheek, his voice taking on a darker tone. âBut you just had to call out another guy's name, didn't you... Would've fucked him if it was him here, not me...â
Caleb thrusts back inside you roughly, fucking your cervix. âYou can't do that, you know? You've always belonged to me. Every part of you is mine, so no one else can touch you.â He cups your cheek, devouring your cries of pleasure with his mouth. âJust me... it's only me, right? I'm the person most important to you, right? You said so... So why are you bringing up another guy?â
He's asking questions, but he doesn't let you answer any of them, kissing you so much you almost can't breathe.
âEven though I'm in front of you...â Kiss. âEven when I'm the only one who loves you this much...â Kiss, kiss. âYou're still thinking of another person...â Kiss, kiss, kiss. âThat's hardly fair when you're all I think about everyday.â Another sloppy kiss.
You weakly push his chest, breaking away from the kiss. âWait, Calebââ
He pins your wrist to the bed. âI'm not stopping.â
âI'm not telling you to stop, I'm telling you to listeâ ahh, haa, hnn!â The cock still ramming up your walls makes it much more difficult to speak, hammering against the sweet spot that makes your toes curl. âFuck, ahâ Caleb, listen to me!â
He hums as he sucks another hickey on your skin. âI am.â
You don't have it in you to argue even when he clearly isn't, trembling at the pleasure. The hand holding your wrist travels upwards to intertwine your fingers together, grounding you back to reality.
âCaleb, I was justâ I didn't mean what I said...â you stammer, trying your best to speak without getting distracted. âI, mmh....! W-wouldn't do this with anyone else... haa... I just said that so you'd fuck meâ ah, ah!â
He scoffs, slowing his pace when he sees you being overwhelmed. âYou're just making excuses to get me to stop.â
âI'm not, you dummy! I...â your brows pinch together, embarrassed to say it but you continue anyway, âCaleb, you're the one I think of when I touch myself... nn... And I know it's wrong, and you only think of me as someone you should take care of, but, I, haah, I like it when you kiss me, or when you hug me, and Iâ gh! I like it when you fuck me hard, too, just like this...â
You move your hand to cup Caleb's jaw, admiring his awestruck expression. He looks at you like he's seeing you for the first time.
âI'm not telling you to stop,â you repeat yourself firmly. âI just wanted to say I didn't mean that thing I said earlier, and if it's you, you can do whatever you want to me. Because I love you just like how you love me, Caleb.â
His hips come to a complete stop. âSay that again.â
âI love you, Caleb.â
âAgain.â
âI love you.â
âAgain.â
âOkay, you're really pushing it, it's embarrassing to saâ aah!â
He grabs your hip, pulling you back to his cock. He fucks you frantically, harsh groans leaving his lips, your name like a prayer. âFuck... you love me? You love... me?â The words seem unfamiliar on his tongue, heartbreakingly quiet. You squeeze your connected hands.
âI love you, Caleb. I really, really love you, I've loved you a long time ago...â you tilt his chin, making him meet your gaze. âNow say it back.â
âI love you,â he says with certainty, as if it's a fact of the universe. âI love you so much.â He buries his head into your neck, sucking new marks. âI love you... fuck... I love you so badly, it hurts...â
His cock drives deeper, the wet slaps of skin deafening in the room. Cum dribbles out of your hole with his thrusts, and he swipes it up to smear it on your engorged clit. Rub, rub. Rub, rub.
âShit, Caleb!â You wail, rutting to his finger. âEverything feels so good, ah, ah!â
âYou feel so good, too, aw, fuuuck...â he's melting inside you, your warm walls clenching around him so tight, sucking him back in every time he pulls out. âYour pussy keeps sucking me back in...!âÂ
âAh, hnahh, ngh, yes, like that, ah! I'm cumming, cumming!â
His balls draw tight, his cock about to burst. âFuck, shit!â he fucks in, in, in, until he's filled every space in your cunt, thumb frantically rubbing at your clit. Clear liquid soaks his cock, wetting his pelvis, and he follows you in your release, shooting ropes of milky cum deep inside your pussy. âFuck, ah, take my cock, take my fucking cum all the way in, ohhâ take it deep in your wombââ
He keeps cumming, and cumming, and cumming. âIt won't stop,â he moans against your ear, watching your hole overflowing with his semen. âYour pussy feels too good, it's sucking me dry...â
âCaleb, shit, how are you stillâ ohh, fuuck...â you whine as the last spurts of semen hit your torso, Caleb having pulled out and pumping his dick to cover you in his cum.
Finally emptied, Caleb collapses on the spot beside you, running a hand through his hair. âI need a shower,â he mutters, feeling the stickiness on his body.
âWe need a shower,â you correct him. âI probably won't be able to walk for the next few days, all thanks to you, so you better take responsibility and carry me everywhere.â
Caleb laughs, light and airy, nothing like the dark tone he's been speaking in earlier. He pulls you to his chest, pressing chaste kisses all over your face. âAnything for the girl I love.â
Raspberry Girl
Previous + masterlist + AO3
Simon Riley/female reader
CW: 18+ intoxication, sexual content, daddy kink, caretaking, blurry lines of consent.
Youâre painfully unaware, though to you, heâs sure it's bliss.Â
In your own little world, you stand at the long wooden table, fingers moving across the trackpad of a laptop, a pair of too big glasses sliding down your nose. The left lens is smudged, the smear only getting worse every time you push them up with the back of your hand. Thereâs a whirlwind of stuff around you, bowls and bags and measuring cups, cracked egg shells and sprinkles scattered across the wood, multi colored icing separated into different containers, and you're so into your work you don't even realize he's in the doorway.Â
He almost feels bad for scaring you when he clears his throat. Almost.Â
âOh my god,â you whirl, hand pressed to your chest, half ready to bolt. âS-sorry, I didnât- I didnât know you were there.âÂ
Is that anyway to say hi to your daddy sweetheart?
âGood morning.â He eyes the twenty four ounce mason jar to your left. Itâs one quarter full, coffee and cream swirling to the bottom. Too much caffeine.Â
âGood morning, hi.â You smile, sweet and shy but more emboldened. Itâs been a few days since he fed you bites of lemon meringue pie, a few days since he went home and stroked his cock to the memory of your mouth parting for him, eyes half lidded looking up through your lashes.Â
Since then, youâve a bit more brave, encouraged by his careful coaxing, text messages at night and throughout the day to check in, visits in the morning as he heads to base.Â
Heâs leading his little lamb right into her shepherdâs arms.Â
âWhatâre you working on?âÂ
âFunfetti birthday cake.â You slide your glasses back up your face. Theyâre a mess and he canât resist fixing it, pulling them off, wiping the lenses with bottom of his shirt. You freeze. Little deer in his headlights.Â
âDidnât know you wore glasses.â He places them back where they belong, righting them when they slip, and confirming what he already knew. Theyâre too big. You need new ones.Â
âTh-thank you. I do for reading. And⌠er, screens. Reading on screens, mostly, though I need them for books too so I guess just⌠reading in general.â He understands the pause now, the moments when youâve become self conscious, embarrassed, or youâre looking for the words you need, anxiously trying to piece it all together, step into a skin that doesn't quite fit.Â
A rhythm the world doesn't understand. Too cruel, impatient, cold, it has no care for fragile things, too easily reflecting a mirror of his former self.Â
He files the bit about you needing to wear glasses when you read, another notation in the long list heâs already memorized, organized, and moves onto his next inquiry. âWhoâs the birthday cake for?âÂ
âMara. Itâs her birthday. TheyâreâŚâ you make a face like youâve sniffed spoiled milk, âweâre going out to a pub to celebrate.â He stiffens. On one hand, heâs proud of you. On the other, the idea of you in a pub raises the hair on the back of his neck, has him a bit out of his mind.Â
Heâs not interested in clipping your wings, but going out to a pub with no one to watch over you? Not bloody likely. âTonight?âÂ
âMhm.â Youâre rubbing a stick of butter in a round pan. âFunfetti is the classic birthday cake. You know, the vanilla cake with the sprinkles?â He shakes his head. âOh. Well, um, it is. It's mostly a kid thing now, but I think it's the ultimate birthday cake. Birthdays are supposed to be fun but you know... they kind of suck when you're an adult. Anyway... funfetti is fun so, that's why...âÂ
âMaybe you can save me a slice. Where are you going?âÂ
âSave youâŚ" your brows crease as you try to process what he's said. "Docâs.â Youâve dropped the stick of butter abruptly, greasy fingers gripping the edge of the pan. Docâs. Itâs a younger crowd, a bit posh, but still a bit dark. Has a bit of an edge.Â
Itâs been a few weeks since heâs gotten a pint with Kyle and Johnny anyway.Â
He smiles, strokes the backs of his knuckles down your cheek, satisfied when you lean in for more, disappointed the few minutes he had to drop in are now over. âIâve gotta go baby, be good for me.â Your mouth drops open so wide he thinks he might be able to fit his cock in it.Â
âOh, okay. I- I will.âÂ
What did you forget?
Daddy. I will, daddy.
âThat âer?â Kyle motions with his beer bottle towards the table where you stand nervously at the edge, floral flecked dress swaying just above your knees. You've looped a white ribbon through your hair, the beacon of a gentle soul that seems to be calling out to every muppet in the building, every wandering eye fueling a fire burning in his blood.Â
âYeah.â His stomach is sour. Even a neat pour of whiskey and pint didnât settle him.Â
Youâre trying so hard. Smiling and nodding and listening to everyone, clutching your drink like itâs a lifeline. Mara seems to understand the grace you need, but no one else in the group gets it, and some of them give you weird looks, or worse, look at each other when youâre not paying attention in annoyance. Your only friend at the table catches a few of them and shoots stern glares as she shakes her head, but it doesnât change much.Â
âShe looks uncomfortable,â Johnny grunts, his scrupulous eye never missing a thing. Someone asks you a question, and you stumble over your answer, looking away to the wall when a girl to your left blatantly smirks, and then sneers directly in your face. Simonâs blood boils.Â
âSheâs different from them, itâs hard for her.â It's the easiest way to explain it. Youâre one in a million. His one in a million.Â
The table laughs at something, and you frantically flick over each personâs face, trying to pick up on a joke you clearly did not understand. Eventually, you just settle for another smile, resigned to watch it all from the outside as conversation flows from person to person, but never towards you.Â
Sweet girl. He wants to take you home where youâre safe and happy and carefree, where you can be yourself and not have to worry about trying to keep up or facing everyoneâs judgement. Where he can hold your perfect and precious heart in his hand and protect it. Where he can fuck the memory of this night right out of you, bounce you on his cock until the only thing you know how to do is come for him, over and over again.Â
He misses the exact moment the cake appears among the stacks of shot glasses. Your anxiety ramps up as everyone starts to eat their slices, shoulders high beneath your ears, fingers knotted together too tight. Itâs an eternity before the first person looks at you, mouth half full and thrilled, their enthusiasm alleviating some of the weight that's been sitting on his chest, and yours. Whatever they say seems to lessen the weight because youâre smiling again, excited, and as more people turn your way, the smile turns to a full on beam, your words from the other night echoing in his ears.Â
I like feeding people.Â
Another hour passes before he decides to call it, the group now spread across the pub, scattered around different tables, at the bar, outside smoking. Youâre in a corner with your back to the room talking to Mara, and when he appears in her line of sight, she spots him immediately, grabbing your arm, mouthing something he doesnât catch.Â
You turn-Â
And light up like a fucking Christmas tree.Â
âCaptain Riley!â The alcohol has made you bold, slow synapses firing less rapidly, providing a longer lead time, somewhat preventing you from second guessing or withholding yourself.Â
âHi baby.â
âIâm just gonnaâŚâ Mara tries to move away but you reach for her.Â
âHappy Birthday Mar. Thanks for inviting,â you hiccup, âme.â She gives you a squeeze.Â
âThanks for coming, and for the cake, it was amazing. Made me feel like I was kid, ya know? When birthdays really mattered.â Sadness flickers in her eyes, and then disappears in a glaze of intoxication. âAnyway, see you Monday?âÂ
âYep.â She gives you one more hug before slipping away, and you sigh.Â
âShe loved her cake.âÂ
âYeah?âÂ
âYeah.â Youâve got this dreamy look on your face, sleepy and sweet, a little kitten whoâs ready to curl up for a nap.Â
Cast a line. See if youâre biting.Â
âHowâre you gettinâ home?âÂ
âAn uber?â You lick your lips. âOr⌠uh. A Lyft?â You lurch to the side and he darts forward to steady you, movement too fast for you to track, all of it ending up as a surprise, like you werenât even in your body for a moment. âTh-thanks.â You study his hand, where it sits on your arm. âYou know youâre so big?â His lips twitch to the side of his mouth.Â
âYeah sweetheart. Iâm big.â Youâre still staring at his hand. âDâyou need a ride home?âÂ
âHuh?â He's held this in the back of his mind all night as a possibility, built a tentative plan for this opportunity too golden to pass up. No fucking way are you going home in a rideshare or with anyone else.Â
âIâm taking you home.â You shrug at the declaration with little trepidation and take his hand.Â
So sweet and full of trust.Â
He never specified which home.Â
When the gravel of his driveway crunches under the truckâs tires, you donât stir, and you donât wake up when he turns it off or opens the passenger side door, your head lolling against your shoulder.Â
âSweetheart,â He keeps his voice low, reaching across your lap to unbuckle your seatbelt, brushing against your breasts, soft exhales puffing little clouds across his skin. âWeâre here.âÂ
âHmm?â you crack an eye open and then shake your head, âno âm sleeping.â Your cheek is warm in his palm, and he kisses it, trying to rouse you, gauge your reaction. Your awareness. Your nose wrinkles. âStop.âÂ
âCâmon, you'll be more comfortable inside.â You whimper when he jostles you, pinning a palm to your temple.Â
âMy head hurts.â Poor baby.Â
âI know,â he pulls you up out of the seat and into his chest, carefully supporting your balance. Heâs taking liberties now, wrapping an arm around your waist, curling his fingers along the nape of your neck, brushing his lips across your forehead when you whine, high pitched and crackled, broken under the weight of too much alcohol and need for more sleep. âI know baby, Letâs get you into bed.â You lay your cheek on his chest and sigh.Â
âOkay.âÂ
âSpit.â He holds the cup under your lips and you do as he asks diligently, bubbly white toothpaste getting caught on the corner of your mouth.Â
Getting you upstairs and into his room went just as he anticipated. A little anxiety, a little uncertainty, all of it gently soothed until you were sitting on his bed and he was taking off your shoes, reassuring you, promising everything was okay and you were right where you belonged.Â
âYouâre safe with me sweetheart. Iâm going to take care of you.âÂ
Now, youâre perched on the closed toilet lid in his bathroom as he finishes brushing your teeth, sleepy and serene, naked thighs peeking out from beneath the hem of his t-shirt.Â
Youâre completely unguarded, vulnerable, another layer peeled back, another piece he lays claim to.Â
His sweet little fawn.Â
He knew all along this was underneath the weight you carried. That when you finally felt safe and cherished and cared for, youâd bloom, be yourself without the pressure of everything else. Deep down, beneath the expectations of how everyone thinks you should talk, or act, or behave, behind all the coping mechanisms youâve taught yourself, buried under mountains of complexity, is his precious little girl who needs her hand held and her tears wiped. Whoâs brilliant and beautiful and different, and has never had the space to just be.Â
Now, you'll be able to do just that while he takes care of the rest. He'll decide. Youâll have boundaries. Youâll have rules. Youâll have daddy and heâll take away the endless pressure that closes in on you from all sides, he'll ensure you get what you need. There will be less worry, less fear and unlimited opportunities to be.Â
âMy face.â You tilt your chin back with your eyes closed, and he chuckles.Â
âWhat about it?âÂ
âMy,â hiccup, âmakeup.â He turns the tap on warm, testing the temp until heâs satisfied, and soaks a washcloth.Â
âKeep your eyes closed.â You sit still as he works, dabbing away everything on your eyelids and lashes, wiping underneath to catch anything he missed. âThere we go.â You sway in his grip and slur.
âBed now?âÂ
âLast thing.â Thereâs a glass of water and naproxen on the counter, and you swallow them without question. He hides his grimace. That will need to be addressed in the morning. When you try to put the glass back on the counter, he shakes his head. âAll of it,â you manage to get the rest of the water down, and he squeezes your hip. âThatâs my girl.âÂ
âYouâre warm.â Your arm is slung over his middle, a cold foot tucked between his knees, mouth half open on his pillow. Completely uninhibited, nearly asleep.Â
His cock is hard against his stomach beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, aching with a fullness he canât relieve. Heâs been hard since he undressed you, peeled your bra off and held you to his chest as he unhooked it, felt your perfect, pretty breasts and nipples against him as he tugged his shirt over your head. You were bashful, buried your face into his neck with a trembling giggle, but refused to let go, sunk your fingernails into his biceps as your hands shook. His sweet, shy girl.Â
He rubs your back, works his fingers in the knots between your shoulders, watching your lashes flutter as you try to fight sleep. Â
âTomorrowâŚâ Thereâs a last minute flash of uncertainty, and he presses his lips to your forehead.Â
âItâs okay, weâll talk at breakfast sweetheart. Itâs time for bed.â Tomorrow. You'll be fighting a battle tomorrow, a hangover, anxiety, an endless spiral of confusion and doubt, but he'll be here to guide you through it.Â
The only way out is through.Â
It will be a lot easier on both of you if you're able to get some sleep.Â
âYeah, âs past my bedtime.â You whisper with a hazy, playful smile on the wisp of a giggle. "We should have pancakes for breakfast." Your easy, peaceful state encourages him to go a step further. Cast a line, see if youâre biting.Â
"If you close your eyes and go to sleep, Daddy will make you pancakes in the morning."Â You nod with a yawn, tucking your face between the pillow and his shoulder.Â
"Mmkay then. Night." It's not a protest, it's not a flinch, it's not a moment of disgust, and satisfaction roars, rips through him like bullet, this instinct and desire long honed finally settling in the place where it belongs. In you.Â
"Goodnight baby." He stares at the ceiling as you disappear into dreams and plans his mission. Plots his checkpoints, sets his objectives. Lead, decide, control.Â