I know you are resting but... Soap being obsessed with you wearing glasses.
Boy, I hope you meant smut. Anyway, I wrote this at 10:00 the day I got it (14 May) at work. My heart has never beat faster (least of all because I'm a glasses wearer).
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~
Soap had always said he loved you in glasses, and you’d always figured he was taking the piss - teasing you over the government issue frames you’d never bothered to replace after phase one. But you’d come home just hours earlier with new frames, more ecstatic about seeing the leaves on trees in detail than the plastic that allowed it to happen; and one look had Soap dragging you giggling and protesting into your bedroom.
“God, look at you,” Soap breathed, one hand fisted in your hair, “looking up at me with those pretty eyes.”
Your only response was a soft choking noise as he rocked into your mouth, the tip of him sliding up and back. His other hand stroked your cheek, his thumb grazing the stem of your glasses. His eyes were locked on to yours - or, more accurately, on your glasses.
He’d insisted you keep them on, his forehead creasing as his face collapsed into abject adoration when you sank to your knees by the edge of the bed.
“Fuck,” he gasped, heavy lids betraying how badly he wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, “they look perfect on you. Make me feel like I’m fuckin’ my English professor.”
You pulled back with a wet slurp, quirking an eyebrow at the comparison. Soap’s other hand dropped from the crown of your head to frame the other side of your face. He guided you to once more swallow him, pressing you far enough down that your glasses pressed crookedly against his belly. All the while, you never took your eyes off of him. His hips thrust, careful and rhythmic. His breathing became more labored. You could feel him twitching and pulsing against your tongue.
“God,” he breathed, “I’m gonna cum too fuckin’ quick with you looking at me like that.”
You swallowed around his cock, urging him on. As you drew back to resume your rhythm, he abruptly pulled out, fisting himself viciously.
“Don’t move,” he gasped, “don’t fuckin’ move.” You sat, tongue lolling obscenely over your lower lip as you waited patiently. You’d expected him to cum in your mouth as he usually did.
But when he tensed and groaned, the first streak of jizz landed squarely over your left lens. And then another. His cock drooled out a few more fat dollops over the bridge of your frames as he languidly stroked himself, chest heaving.
“Stay just like that,” he whispered one last time, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. With a grin, he rested his cock just so, snapping a picture. “Good girl,” he purred.
You bit back a smile.
Soap really loved you in glasses.