Simon and Ghost are both needy physical touch guys.
Ghost is very domineering, will come and wrap an arm around your shoulders, has the hand at the back of your waist, his hand round the back of your neck rubbing your nape. Is exactly the type to tilt your head up to look up at him with a finger, feed you and let you continue on with your conversation as if nothing happened. He’s coming and wrapping both arms around you as he looks whoever dead in the eye to keep ten feet. They’ll walk away and you let out an exasperated laugh, “They’re not doin anything-“
Wraps his arms around you tighter, your cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk, your fuckin adorable, he scuffs, “Don’t bloody care, wanna hold ya lovie.”
Has a heavy cuteness agression, needs to squeeze you once a day.
And then theres Simon, who is a little shy but there none the less. Like a cat who follows you around with those big whisky brown eyes. Has a hand on your thigh, or around your waist holding you close. Or you have a hand on his thigh, tapping his knee, playing footsie under the table, anything. Better yet, holding his hand and letting him hold it tight. His hand gets sweaty and he’s apologizing while he wipes his hand down his pants, and yout just like, “S okay, you’re good.” And kiss the back of his fingers. Letting him hold your hand once again, in your lap. Drawing circles on the back of his hand.
He absolutely adores it, makes his heart flip three times over.
Course he’s kissing your fingers back. Loves the hell out of you.
Mumbles a, “thank you bunny.”
Likes being the little spoon, but also likes when you rub your face into his chest after a long day.
a/n: my second application trying to write Simon with multiple personality disorder. Will be a 3rd some time soon.
Simon and Ghost are both needy physical touch guys.
Ghost is very domineering, will come and wrap an arm around your shoulders, has the hand at the back of your waist, his hand round the back of your neck rubbing your nape. Is exactly the type to tilt your head up to look up at him with a finger, feed you and let you continue on with your conversation as if nothing happened. He’s coming and wrapping both arms around you as he looks whoever dead in the eye to keep ten feet. They’ll walk away and you let out an exasperated laugh, “They’re not doin anything-“
Wraps his arms around you tighter, your cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk, your fuckin adorable, he scuffs, “Don’t bloody care, wanna hold ya lovie.”
Has a heavy cuteness agression, needs to squeeze you once a day.
And then theres Simon, who is a little shy but there none the less. Like a cat who follows you around with those big whisky brown eyes. Has a hand on your thigh, or around your waist holding you close. Or you have a hand on his thigh, tapping his knee, playing footsie under the table, anything. Better yet, holding his hand and letting him hold it tight. His hand gets sweaty and he’s apologizing while he wipes his hand down his pants, and yout just like, “S okay, you’re good.” And kiss the back of his fingers. Letting him hold your hand once again, in your lap. Drawing circles on the back of his hand.
He absolutely adores it, makes his heart flip three times over.
Course he’s kissing your fingers back. Loves the hell out of you.
Mumbles a, “thank you bunny.”
Likes being the little spoon, but also likes when you rub your face into his chest after a long day.
a/n: my second application trying to write Simon with multiple personality disorder. Will be a 3rd some time soon.
i like the idea of simon pinning you underneath him and holding you down so that you cannot move, like the idea fucks so good with my head. being powerless while he mercilessly fucks your cunt until you’re a squirming overstimulated mess who can just let out whimpers and twitch with every thrust. good day to have a brain that can make sexual fantasies.
Simon Riley was a big man. No doubt about that. And it only makes sense that his height isn't the only big thing about him.
Of course, a tall man would weigh a lot too. He was muscular, more so than your average man. And...he wasn't lacking down there any either.
so, of course, it only makes sense for your first time with Simon to be agonizingly slow. He was a big scary man but that didn't mean he wanted to hurt his pretty bird.
No, Simon was going to take his time enjoying you before he broke you. That's why he would start with his fingers first.
His hand slowly sliding up your thigh. Feeling the soft skin there. You instinctively spread your legs for him. His fingers quickly found their way to your wet cunt.
Even in the dim lit room, Simon knew exactly where to touch without needing to see. He pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit. Drawing a moan from your lips.
Moving in circular motions. Keeping his movements slow and steady. You could see his eyes burning into your skin, as if he were a cat and his eyes could glow in the dark.
Not only did you feel him there, you could see him there. He dragged his thumb down, towards your entrance. A small breathy gasp escaping you.
He pulled his fingers away, leaving you wanting more with just a few simple touches. You watched closely, seeing him lick the slick off his thumb. Tasting you on himself.
"Fuckin’ hell… you taste good.” His voice came out in a low, almost pained sounding grunt. Like he needed more.
You felt his fingers at your entrance again. Pushing one in slowly. Before you could react, he pushed in a second. Stretching you out on his thick fingers.
He leaned down, lips meeting yours. Kissing you roughly. His fingers pushed in and out slowly. Curling upwards, hitting every spot in you that felt right.
Biting your bottom lip and pulling away. Simon wasn't going to stop with his fingers. No, he had plans for you. He couldn't resist not tasting you.
Spreading your legs further, pulling them over his shoulders. You felt his warm breath on your pussy, making you shudder.
"Si, if you're gonna do it just- oh.."
You felt his lips on your clit. Sucking on it gently, eyes looking up at you. Your hands found their way to his hair. Pulling on the strands gently.
He pushed his tongue into your wet cunt. His own moans coming out at the taste of you.
He pulled away, licking his lips. Making you miss the contact.
You heard his belt unbuckle.
"Look at me." He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "I'm not going to be gentle for long. Think you can handle that?" He squeezes your jaw tighter.
You nod your head. "Yes, Si please. I need you."
He pushed you back down on the bed, pulling his jeans just past his thighs. His black briefs straining against him. Pulling his thick cock out, spitting in his hand and stroking himself.
Making eye contact. Groaning low. He lined himself up with your wet pussy, pushing in slowly. The slight burn from being stretched just a little too wide. Your nails digging into his bicep.
Gasping for air as he pushes in further. One of his hands holding your hip, the other supporting his weight. He gripped your hip roughly and pushed in even deeper.
Filling you up, more than you could take. He didn't give you time to adjust before he was roughly thrusting in and out. The slight burn you felt slowly turning into pleasure as your body got used to his size.
"Oh god." You moaned, the pleasure he was giving you feeling too good. You could hear him grunting too.
Slamming his hips into yours. Barely giving you time to process he was pulling out, only to slam back in.
Moving his hand from your hip, he began to rub your clit slowly. The pace much slower than his frantic thrust.
Your back arched off the bed, breathing becoming ragged. Thrusting just a little bit harder, pushing himself impossibly deep.
"tha's a good girl." You couldn't take it anymore, you felt the knot start to form. Growing slowly as you became closer and closer to the edge.
keeping his pace the same, quickly grabbing a leg and tossing it over his shoulder to hit a new, deeper angle. You felt him twitch inside of you. Knowing he was close too.
Clenching around his cock. You felt yourself reach a peak, releasing on his cock. Back fully arched off the bed, your nails biting into his biceps. Moans spilling from your lips.
Simon watched you cum on his cock. The sight beautiful, causing his own orgasm to come. Thrusting into you a few more times before cumming inside of you.
Both of you panting and sweaty.
His weight fully onto you and pressing you into the mattress.
cw: smut; established romantic relationship; domesticity; dirty talk; Simon sounds like a dying elk when he comes
Simon doesn’t make much noise the first few times you sleep together.
He’s controlled, deliberate—deep breaths through his nose, low grunts muffled against your neck, the occasional growled “fuck” when you clench around him just right. You come hard anyway, because even quiet Simon is intense, but you always wonder what it would take to really unravel him.
It takes months.
It takes nights spent learning every scar on his body, mornings where he wakes up tangled in your sheets and doesn’t immediately reach for his mask, quiet admissions over tea about things he’s never quite told anyone but his therapist.
It takes you telling him—out loud, firmly, no room left for doubt—that you’re his, that you’re not going anywhere, that you want all of him.
The first time he truly lets go, you’re on your back beneath him in the dark of your bedroom, legs hooked over his broad shoulders, his fat cock buried so deep it feels like he’s in your throat.
You’ve been teasing him all day—little touches, filthy texts, wearing nothing but his hoodie and panties around the flat—so he’s already frayed.
You roll your hips just right and whisper-whine, “Let me hear you, Si. Please.”
Something snaps.
The sound that rips out of him is raw, animalistic—half groan, half roar, and loud enough to rattle in your chest. His head drops to your shoulder, strong hips slamming forward, and then he doesn’t stop making noise.
And to someone who gets off on sounds, it’s pure, heavenly filth.
Every thrust drags another wrecked sound from his throat; deep, guttural moans that vibrate against your skin, rough growls when you tighten around him, broken curses growled right into your ear.
“Fuck—fuck—tight little cunt—so fuckin’ good—”
He’s loud, shameless, voice cracking on your name like it hurts. When you rake your nails down his back he actually whines—a desperate, needy sound you’ve never heard from him before—and drives into you harder, the bedframe knocking against the wall in a steady, obscene rhythm that makes your eyes roll back into your skull.
You feel him lose the last of his restraint when you clench deliberately and gasp, “Love how you sound, Si. Ngh... love knowing it’s me—”
Simon lifts his head, eyes wild and dark, and the noise he makes then is pure filth: a long, drawn-out groan that sounds like it’s being torn out of him, ending in a gravelly: “Gonna fuckin’ come—gonna ah fill you up—”
And he does—hips stuttering, cock pulsing deep inside you as he roars your name against your neck, loud enough that you’re half-sure the neighbors heard. The sound alone tips you over, and you come clenching around him, sobbing his name into his shoulder.
After, he doesn’t go quiet again.
He collapses on you, still twitching, breath ragged, but even spent he’s vocal—soft, rough praises growled against your skin.
“Christ… you ruin me, pet.”
“Can never get enough of you.”
“Sound so fuckin’ pretty when y’take me.”
From that night on, once the trust is absolute, Simon is unashamedly loud and proud about it.
Not performative—never that. Just raw and unfiltered. The man who barely speaks in public will growl filth in your ear like it’s the only language he knows when he’s inside you. He moans like a dying elk (deep, hoarse, loud, and utterly wrecked) every time you ride him slow. He whimpers—actually whimpers—when you suck him off and look up at him through your lashes, moaning softly around his meaty cock.
And every time, without fail, he presses his sweaty forehead to yours afterward and rasps, voice hoarse from shouting your name:
“Only for you. Only ever this loud for you, baby,” he’ll grunt every time.
And you believe him; feeling it in your bones every time he loses himself in you. Loud, filthy, and completely, irrevocably yours.
Simon stands frozen in the corridor outside the break room, coffee mug forgotten in his hand.
Inside, you’re laughing with Gaz and a couple of the intel girls, voice bright and careless.
“You can all keep your nonchalant men,” you say, stirring sugar into your tea with unnecessary violence. “I want a chalant one. Someone who texts back fast, who stares too long, who gets excited over nothing and tells me about it. I’m so bloody tired of guessing.”
Gaz snorts, arms crossed casually. “Good luck finding that in this unit.” Meanwhile, Simon’s ears are already burning under the mask. Of course, Gaz has to talk shit now in that smooth London–accent of his.
Simon has spent the last four months being meticulously, painfully nonchalant.
He times his arrivals so he’s already at his desk when you walk in with the morning briefings (never early enough to seem eager). He limits himself to one greeting per day, gruff and quiet. When you wear the burgundy skirt that hugs your hips so perfectly, he stares at the computer screen so hard the pixels blur.
Simon deletes half the texts he types to you before sending (the ones that say things like you looked nice today or missed your presence in the briefing).
He once almost asked if you wanted to grab coffee after work and instead muttered something about ammunition counts and walked away.
He thought he was being careful. Respectful. Professional.
Turns out he’s been doing the opposite of exactly what you want in a man.
Simon’s heart—old, rusted thing that it is—starts hammering like he’s twenty-five again and spotting a pretty girl across the mess in Hereford for the first time in years.
He retreats to his office, shuts the door, and spends ten full minutes staring at the wall.
Existential crisis is too small a word. It’s a full-system reboot.
By 1700 hours he’s still there, mask off, running a hand over his jaw, rehearsing sentences in his head that sound nothing like the Ghost anyone knows. At 1712 he gives up pretending to work, and he finds you at your desk in the outer office, packing up for the day.
You look up, surprised to see him lingering.
“Captain wants the revised sit-rep on his desk by 1800,” he says harsher than intended. It’s a lie. Price is off-base until tomorrow.
You nod, already reaching for the file. Simon clears his throat. Once. Twice. Swallowing too thickly both times.
“Actually,” he says, voice still embarrassingly rough, “I was wonderin’ if you’ve eaten yet.”
You blink.
“Because I haven’t,” he continues, the words tumbling out before he can stop them, “and there’s a decent Indian place fifteen minutes away. If y’like curry. Or if you don’t, we could find something else. I don’t mind. I just—I’d like to buy you dinner.”
He stops, mortified at how loud his pulse is in his own ears.
You stare at him for a long second, lips parted. Then your face softens into the kind of smile that makes his chest hurt like he’s been stabbed.
“I love curry,” you say quietly, and Simon exhales like he’s been holding his breath for months. “Good,” he manages awkwardly. “That’s... good.”
He hovers while you grab your coat, hands flexing at his sides like he wants to help but doesn’t know if he’s allowed.
As you two walk past Gaz (who just happens to be there) toward the door, the Sergeant grins into his fresh cup of coffee, murmuring: “Took you long enough, sir.”
Simon shoots him a swift glare and follows you out, ears still burning, but for the first time in years the silence around him feels hopeful instead of deafeningly safe.
you’ve been in love with him since you met, and you realize your feeling possibly aren’t one sided.
𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: coming soon
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, smut, mutual pining, friends to lovers
𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.9k
𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cussing, body insecurities, mc is chubby
𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, creampie, marking, p in v intercourse, sleepy sex, body worship, big dick Mingyu, he’s very handsy. nicknames: baby, honey (hers) Gyu, baby (his)
𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw
𝐚𝐧: I had a dream where I was friends with Mingyu and extremely down bad for him, and this definitely inspired me to write this.
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PREVIEW
You're pretty sure you've been in love with Mingyu since the first time you met him. You shared a class with him and Seokmin freshman year and instantly became friends. You're the one who actually introduced Seokmin and Mina. She was your freshman year roommate, who instantly became your best friend.
Outing with friends normally end you and Mingyu attached at the hip. None of your friends tend to have personal boundaries but things with Mingyu have always been different.
Friday nights after work tend to be the the full friend group meets up. Mina recommended a soup spot on the upper side of town she wanted to try. Dinner was delicious and instead of heading home everyone is standing next to Mingyu and Seokmin's cars.
You're leaning against hood on Mingyu car. He standing right next to you with his arm thrown over your shoulder.
Soonyoung and Seokmin are animatedly telling you a story about some drunken night they shared recently. Mina looks embarrassed as her husband talks about his drunken shenanigand. Junhui is standing next to Mina, laughing. Wonwoo is paying attention but he keeps glancing over at you and his roommate.
Mingyu mindlessly leans down and kisses the top of your head.
Mina leans against Seokmin's car and lets out a yawn. It's been a long day, the whole group worked today and it's pushing midnight now.
"Seokmin, your wife is tired." Mingyu says as he pulls you closer to him.
Seokmin stops moving his hands and turns his attention to his wife. "Is it time to go home?" Seokmin asked.
"I think so." Mina laughs.
"What are you doing tonight?"Mingyu asks looking down at you.
"She should be going to sleep." Junhui says walking toward you. "She's supposed to meet up with her sister for lunch tomorrow."
"Your sister is in town?" Wonwoo asks.
"Yeah, she kinda blindsided me today."
"Are you going alone?" Your relationship with your sister has been strained over the last few years. The longer you live away from home, the more upset she's grown with you.
"Probably."
Mingyu nudges your side a little. "I'll go with you."
"That would be nice." The idea of having someone with you sounds perfect. At least Mingyu can be a buffer between you and your sister.
"I'll text you details." You say, pulling away from him.
Everyone starts giving their hugs goodbye. Mingyu avoids you until you're the last person. He walks over and wraps his arms around you, for a bear hug. Your entire body feels warm as he holds you close. You're well aware your roommates and Wonwoo are watching you both closely.
He pulls back and places a wet kiss on your forehead. "See you in the morning."
mean men who are absurdly bigger than you; in size, mass, height... all departments. so when you're getting fucked on your hands and knees and he's been plowing into you for so long that you've lost track of time, it's no surprise that your body would begin to give out. "stupid fucking girl." he smacks your ass one cheek at a time, watching the fat wobble obscenely on impact.
slipping forward on the sheets is inevitable for you, no matter how hard you try to keep your arms locked straight. your elbows keep buckling every time his hips slam forward. your size difference becomes even more apparent in the way his cock stuffs your hole to the hilt. no man before him could compare to this. every time he fucks you, you're unprepared. it feels like he's prying you apart from the inside with every drag of his length.
drool drips from your mouth because you can't even keep it shut anymore. you're panting and whining and clawing uselessly at the mattress for leverage while he tuts and rams into your useless body. "fuck... 's so good," you slur, hands squeezing your favorite plushie for moral support. "yeah?" he taunts. "it's good? tell me how much you love it."
your knees slide wider with every thrust, thighs aching from trying to hold yourself up, but he's got both of his big hands gripping your hips like handles to keep you right where he wants you. "love it soo much, you have the best cock!" he laughs at your whorish moans, driving in deeper.
"so good you keep coming over for more, eh?" your belly dips under the weight of him pressing you down, his thrusts so heavy and relentless that your spine bows, your cheek smearing drool into the sheets. you're basically sagging in his hold, but he doesn't let you fall; just uses your limpness to rut harder. he tugs your hair so you arch more. "showing up to my place in those clothes 'n pretending you only came to talk. you're full of it, girl."
you moan at his jeering, your pussy fluttering around him like it's barely able to keep up. you're milking him without meaning to! he leans over you, chest against your back, one big hand flattening between your shoulder blades to pin you down. he pounds you so deep you swear your vision whites out.
you collapse face-first into the sheets, cheek mashed to the mattress, drool smearing across the fabric while you gasp for air. your ass is still up in the air but he doesn't let you rest; his big hands grab at your hips, fingers digging in tight as he drags you back into position.
your limp body is lifted until he's got you angled just how he wants you. you're dangling on his grip like a ragdoll, knees spread wide, belly pressed flat to the bed, ass tilted up perfect. before you can even catch a breath he's stuffing that meaty cock back inside your sloppy little hole, the stretch immediate. "too much!" you scream into the sheets. "please slow down, please, i can feel it in my guts like this..!"
the new angle is devastating. he's driving in so deep your walls clamp down in shock, your cunt tightening frantically as his cockhead scrapes every swollen spot inside you. he's bottoming out until he's nudging against your womb with every brutal thrust. the sound of it is wet and obscene, your body gushing slick around him. " 'm giving you what you wanted. you want a grimy old man like me to set you straight because no one else can get you right like this."
you whine at his implications, but you can't be bothered to deny it. you're focused on the way every shove of his hips forces another gush out of you, running down your thighs and soaking the sheets beneath. he groans at the mess and how tight you're squeezing around him, and so he keeps pounding straight into that sweet spot inside you to make you suck him in harder.
his tip is ramming straight up against your cervix while his thick shaft scrapes through your walls raw, grinding at spots that make your whole body seize up. you're screaming into the mattress, strings of spit sticking to your cheek while your pussy squirts around him when he hammers that gooey spot in you too many times in a row.
you tighten so hard it feels like you're trying to push him out, but he just snarls and drives in deeper, forcing your spasming cunt to take all of him. you choke on his size until your back arches up off the bed and your belly aches from how deep he's spearing you. "screamin' loud enough for everyone in the area to hear," he sneers. "want them all to know what kind of girl you are? hmph. wish you could see how you look right now, takin' my cock like a whore."
then he's slamming in balls-deep, grinding at your womb. you can feel the way he swells inside, before he's spilling thick, hot cum so deep inside you that you swear your belly bulges a little. he doesn't pull out, wanting to ensure every drop is forced deep into you.
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I just know that simon has a beautiful golden bush down there and his missus loves to deepthroat him but he doesn't want her to feel disgusted by his hair so he's always trimming it and keeping it neat and tidy for you because he also thinks that maybe you'd like clean guys but you? Oh jesus, you're a little pervert. You need to feel his pubic hair tickle your nose as you're gagging on his thick cock, that bush dripping with your saliva and his cum as you play with his heavy balls. you just want to see him as he is, and poor Simon is just so clueless because why are you so obsessed with him?
He doesn't get it why you're so obsessed with his old body. His body that's faced literally every nightmare known to man — he has bullet wounds that leave a ugly scar, crooked hurried stitches from getting stabbed on the battlefield, poorly healed scars and a broken nose from a fight wayyy back before the SAS. He just doesn't get it but you? Oh, you're crazy for simon's body and ofcourse for his mind and his personality too but... mainly his body!
Simon has a little scar on his neck from the time where someone was about to slit his throat open during his first ever capture. Simon absolutely hates it — everything from that little scar to all of his wounds because it reminds him of how weak and helpless he can be. but you always try to get him to love himself, sucking on the little scar on his veiny neck and leaving behind multiple hickeys that he always adores because it reminds him that you care enough for him to claim him as yours.
His stomach isn't entirely pure abs like a body builder, he has a bit of a strong dad bod and at the beginning of your relationship, he was insecure and tried to hit the gym more and when you found out about it? You tied simon up and worshipped his big scarred body all night long, whispering soft compliments to him as you kissed and sucked away on every part of his body you could reach because he just looked so insatiable and all of his scars just added to his rugged look.
And even after that you never stopped, it was as if you seemed to have a thing for simon! Everything about him turns you on, it's like you're always ovulating whenever he's around. Those beefy arms that are decorated with meaningful tattoos? God you're pouncing on them, making him finger fuck you despite whatever you're doing or wherever you both are. You've always drooled over his bulging biceps whenever he has you in a chokehold as he pounds into you from behind, his hips drilling into you relentlessly as his fat tip hits your g-spot, making you see stars.
His thighs are another thing that you get off of, like I said, everything about him gets you off. You straddle his thick thighs whenever you have a chance because he just looks so hot doing nothing but sitting and manspreading his legs, his cock bulging through his sweats as his thighs fill them out perfectly. and whenever simon's too tired to give you what you want, you just ride his thighs, grinding messily on his bare skin, your clit bumping into pure muscle as simon watches you getting off, his hands kneading the flesh on your hips as he sports a weak erection but don't worry, as soon as he's recovered the next day?
Oh he's bending you over every surface of the house, fucking you without a break till the floors are a sticky mess with pools of your mixed fluids and you're fucked out of your mind. Babbling nonsense as your arms weekly try to push him away from all the overstimulation he's causing you. You have no idea what time it is, how many times you have cum or squirted even, the only thing you can do is cry and scream as your husband fucks away into you, still not getting why you're so obsessed with him.
lieutenant simon ghost riley has a couple of piercings, actually, more than a couple, if to admit truthfully, but he ain't a man to go around and sun shine with his scarred mug, and especially not one to wear them behind the thick, grimy fabric of his work balaclava, but still, a little showing never hurt nobody.
simon prefers putting some jewelry only when he's out to the late night pub, let his face breathe a little, refresh the piercings with some simple, black titanium pieces, one at his eyebrow, one to the plump, pale bottom lip, one to the bridge of his a bit crooked nose, a couple more to the ears that barely have any place left when you see all those earrings on him.
you can't help but eye him, hiding your curious gaze behind the flutter of eyelashes, thinking you can disguise your pretty face behind this glass you hold, but your lieutenant has good senses, catching your eyes with his own, whiskey brown and squinted, grunting at you with a tiny wolfish smirk, waiting till you finally break out the question that rolls around your tongue.
“do you have more, sir?” comes out a small mumble, almost a lambs blea, your fingers twisting together, nervous, unsure if that's a question too personal or not, and this amuses simon so much, sharp fangs coming into view as his smile stretches, low, rumbling hum escaping out his throat, before he lolls his tongue out, long, pierced a little further than the tip, titanium circle gleaming right at you with the strings of saliva that stretch down his teeth.
you get a good view and an even better non verbal answer, while simon gets drunk on the way your throat moves slowly as you swallow again, this time, not from nerves at all, judging by the way your feet catches his under the table by sheer accident, while you wriggle, clenching your thighs together sheepishly, flustered and beyond aroused, exacerbating lieutenant's sudden hunger, ready to be his meal for after he'll finish some bourbon.
After your first (incredible) night with Simon, you refused to let him go. You would be stupid to let the man that could literally read your mind during sex somehow escape your claws.
Yet somehow this made Simons life even harder. Your thoughts didn't get less horny after the two of you started regularly fucking. It made them worse.
"Can you stop thinking about sucking my dick while we're doing paperwork?" Simon huffed, making you tense for a second before letting out a quiet snort of amusement.
"Can't help it, Si."
"You know what you're doing."
Another time, the two of you were on a mission lining up a shot with the sniper. Simon nearly choking on air. "Are you seriously thinking about sitting on my face?!"
"Just to pass the time." You hum, adjusting the angle of your rifle "You picking up on anyone?"
Simon grunts, focusing on the building for a moment then nodding. "Can hear two men."
"They thinking about sitting on faces too?" You ask, the smile clear in your voice.
"Focus for fucks sake." Simon growled, his hips shifting against the ground beneath the two of you for any source of friction against his stupidly hard cock.
Not to mention the time that you were pushing Simons buttons. Everything he said just had a little remark from you. It made him blow air from his nostrils like a bull.
And your thoughts weren't making it any better. Every time you made a comment about him, your thoughts were too horny for your own good.
"Fuck, he looks hot angry."
"Maybe if I get him mad enough he'll fuck his anger out on me."
"Christ, why do I wanna feel that vein throbbing in his forehead against my thigh while he eats me out?"
He eventually snapped and you could barely walk for almost a week.
Now the sex that you two had was always incredible. Simon obviously knew everything you wanted before you could even voice it. But that didn't mean you always got what you wanted.
Sometimes he'd tease you, act like he didn't know what you wanted until you'd voice it. which would always get you snippy with him. It was adorable, really.
And other times he knew exactly what you wanted to hear, he'd abuse his ability and have you coming over and over again.
But the one time you even thought about faking an orgasm? Jesus fucking Christ.
“It’s New Year’s…” you whispered, your eyes shining as you watched the fireworks explode across the sky, utterly mesmerized. For a moment, you almost forgot you weren’t alone, but the strong arms holding you were still there, present, never letting go of you for even a second.
“Did you make your wish?” Simon asked, pressing your back against his chest to keep you close.
“I already have what I need,” you replied, turning your face to look at him with a wide, almost innocent smile. He watched you calmly, peace evident in his gaze and a sly, small smile on his lips, one that mirrored the same happiness written all over your own face. “What did you wish for?”
Simon lifted his eyes to the lit-up sky, letting out a soft sigh. “I can’t tell you.” That was his answer when he looked back at you, only to find a pout clearly bothered by all the secrecy. “No use trying, you won’t get it out of me.” he finished, ending your pouty attempt to coax the answer out of him.
To silence you once and for all, Simon gently held your chin, caressing the softness of your skin as he tilted your face up and kissed your lips slowly, a tender seal that soon turned into a real kiss when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and rose onto your toes to reach him.
Despite loving the height difference between the two of you, he hated seeing you uncomfortable, so you weren’t surprised when he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up, pulling your body against his and hooking your legs around his waist to keep you in his arms.
“I love you,” he said with his lips still touching yours, eyes closed, his warm breath revealing just how comfortable and safe he felt in your presence—safe enough to be sentimental, but only with you.
gym bro!ghost whose wind-down sets are lazy sex with you
he relaxes into the couch, sweat coating his chest and drenching his shirt. his shoulders relax and he groans, legs pushed apart and arm draped around your waist, hand grasping at the fat on the outside of your thigh as he drags you up and down his aching cock
he pants quietly, throwing his head back as you whimper and pant, your hungry cunt swallowing his cock whole. his throat bobs, and he squeezes your thigh, his cock twitching when you whimper particularly whorishly. your back arches, and you push your hips back into his, supporting yourself with your hands on his thighs, a deliciously lewd 'pap, pap, pap' following each roll of his cock deep within you
his muscles ripple and flex, his meaty thighs spreading wide as he fucks up into you. "such a good girl ain't ya?" he drawls, biting at your shoulder. "lettin' me relax with this pussy. nothin' better," he praises, resting his head against your back. he watches the curve of your ass bounce against his thigh. you're easy to rile up and he adores hearing you whimper 'simon, oh!' all brokenly while he barely breaks another sweat.
he knows his scent sticks to your brain, excites you. he knows you love this routine specifically-- it makes you ride him till failure-- till you can't handle any more of his thick cock and even thicker cum. so he lets you. at your own pace, your own speed. he supplements it with shallow fucks into your wet heat, but nothing more
Simon is extremely observant, noticing the tiniest changes in someone's behavior. So it doesn't come off as a surprise when he sees that something is off with his little girl.
While Simon was helping you prepare for supper, he decided to take a peek at the living room because his daughter had just been a tad bit too quiet this whole time.
He sees her there, sitting by the warmth of the fireplace that enveloped around her like the comforting arms of her mother that was making her daughter's favorite dish in the kitchen right over in the next room. She was just staring at the presents under the bright Christmas tree, she didn't even look like she wanted to open them.
Simon approaches her carefully, making his presence known as not to startle her. Her eyes already looked glossy, scaring her would be the last thing he wanted.
"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Simon asks gently, straight to the point as he places a comforting hand on her back. She doesn't sob, only looks up at him with a disappointed expression.
"Daddy...is it true that Santa isn't real?" She questions with a curious yet obviously heartbroken tone. Simon pauses, not expecting the problem to be something as simple as this. Okay, well maybe it wasn't because it took Simon a good minute to think of what to say.
He chooses to tell her the truth. Simon knew she might get disappointed, even cry a little. But it's normal, she'd find out eventually and this was a good time for it to happen.
"I'm sorry, sweetie..But Santa isn't real, yeah? That doesn't mean the magic of Christmas is going to go away anytime soon though, mummy and daddy are going to make it special for you every single year." When the words leave Simon's mouth, he was bracing himself to see his precious little girl cry.
Yet he was only met with interest. "So that means...mommy and daddy are like Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus?" She asks, a new glimmer in her eyes starting to sparkle. It certainly took Simon aback since it wasn't what he expected.
He lets out a hearty chuckle, picking her up and walking to bring her over to the kitchen. "You could say it like that, sweets. Now, let's go help your mum make the cookies like the cheeky elf you are."
a/n: late merry xmas LOL!! this was rushed so sorry and they dont call em Santa right its father Xmas oh wrll im lazy
You could tell the moment Simon stepped into your apartment that he had a shitty day. And being the good girlfriend that you are, you ushered him to sit down. Immediately dropping to your knees in front of him; Simons expressing shifting from tense to extremely relieved.
Simon raised his hips to help you tug his jeans down slightly. Your mouth watering when you pull out his cock, tip already drooling a little precum that you immediately leaned in to taste. Simon letting out a short grunt as you look up at him.
You kissed around his tip for a moment, licking up the length of his cock before taking him fully into your mouth. Relishing in the moan Simon let out.
You soon hollowed your cheeks; Simon gasping and bucking his hips slightly. Your hand going underneath your pyjama shorts to start circling your clit, moaning around his cock.
Soon, through the haze of pleasure Simon realised you were moaning. His eyes flickered down to you, his dick twitching in your mouth when he realises you're getting off to this.
"Fuck, you seriously touchin' yourself over this?" Simon huffed, reaching down to cup your cheek, feeling his cock glide against the inside of it.
You attempt to hum around his cock in agreement, Simon moaning again. Gently grabbing the back of your cock and thrusting quickly into your mouth. The sounds were disgusting but Christ if you weren't wet.
Simon let out a low long "Fuck" as his come filled your mouth. The salty slightly bitter taste covering your tastebuds.
You pull off Simon shortly after, taking a moment to savour the taste of his come before swallowing it with a satisfied sound. Wiping the small amount that was still on the underside of his tip; letting out a snort of amusement when Simon twitched.
You stood up, sitting in your boyfriend's lap, licking your lips.
"You didn't come."
"I was close, but it's okay. Was making you feel good, not me."
Simon scoffed as he stood up, lifting you over his shoulder and walking towards your bedroom. "Definitely not. You're not leaving the bedroom until your legs are fucking shaking."
how does one handle a hopeless romantic son and a girl with a certain x-rated wish? you set them up, of course!
tags: f!rea x mingyu | crack, smut 18+
wc: 6k
content: santa’s son mingyu, jeongcheol as parents, smoking, smut with virgin!gyu (YAYY🎊), strangers to let’s fuck immediately, he’s shy at first but reader encourages him to be rough lol, pussy eating, protected deep sex.
notes: thank you for having me again larie @breakmeoff <3 this is so unserious and i’m ngl writing the smut was torture so if it’s shit i was hacked
𝓜INGYU’S LEG BOUNCES UNDER THE TABLE AS HE SITS ACROSS FROM HIS MOTHER. all ladylike, jeonghan leans back and manspreads in his office chair, pulling out the desk drawer.
mingyu sits in nervous silence as jeonghan rustles around in there before retrieving what looks like a paper candy cane. the next thing he grabs out is a lighter, popping the ‘candy cane’ between his lips.
“i thought those were contraband.” mingyu asks, realising it’s a red-and-white striped cigarette as jeonghan flicks the lighter on.
“don’t tell your father.” jeonghan winks, taking a drag.
suddenly it makes a little more sense why his mother’s constantly coughing like a plague victim.
“so why’d you ask for me?” mingyu digresses.
jeonghan sighs out smoke to his side, lip curling with his signature poise. “you’ve been working very hard this year, haven’t you, mingyu?”
“i try to do my best every year. but yeah, i gave my all for this one. i wanted to help dad out.”
his father, santa coups, injured his knee after last christmas. ever since, mingyu stepped up in his shoes of class president, and led a productive year for santa’s helpers while the big boss man himself was in recovery.
“and we’ve been very ahead of schedule for december, all thanks to the work you’ve been putting in. you should be proud of yourself, mingyu.”
mingyu shifts in his seat at his mother’s praise, unsticking himself from the sweat gathered on the chair’s leather. “thank you.”
jeonghan chuckles softly. “your father and i are very grateful for you helping out around here, and we wanted to grant you a wish of your own this christmas.”
“oh, you don’t need—”
jeonghan shushes his son with nothing but a soft glance. he goes on, “i know how big of a fan you are of those hallmark romance movies. like, love actually, right?”
mingyu nearly winces. love actually could probably be considered more of a porno than a hallmark movie … actually. but it didn’t matter too much.
“what about it?”
“well, i’ve got a special job for you. and it might just be like a movie come true.”
jeonghan reaches back into his desk drawer and slides a piece of paper onto the table. mingyu recognises it as a wish profile, someone with a history of writing to santa coups.
“as i was organising the roster for the deliveries, i found a girl who has a wish that only someone special could grant.”
mingyu takes a good look at it this time. the profile’s of the girl in talks, and his eyes catch on the attached picture, likely pulled from social media. you looked…
…beautiful. mind-blankingly beautiful. he forgot he was sitting across from his mother or where he even was at all until jeonghan’s finger enters his vision and points to a certain section on the paper.
mingyu’s taken aback when he reads that you’re on the very nice list. that’s someone who’s been classed as nice every year basically since birth.
he scans the rest of the sheet, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he reads the wish you wrote.
dear santa coups, i wish to fall in love for a night this christmas.
mingyu gulps down a boulder, realisation of where this is going dawning. “uh, i don’t know if—”
“—this is a gift from your father and i.” jeonghan cuts in with a gentle voice as his son visibly starts to panic in his head. “consider it basically a day off.”
“but, that’s a pretty, serious wish..”
his mind’s spinning faster than the earth orbiting the sun right now. he just barely got through a year of stepping up to fill his father’s shoes, and that was with a plethora of alcohol consumption rivalled only by the amount of stressed tears shed too.
of course mingyu’s dreamed and wished upon a star to experience the type of romance he sees in the movies. the problem is, while he didn’t exactly have a sheltered upbringing, mingyu hasn’t seen the world past the snowy tundra he calls home.
to put it bluntly: he didn’t know the first thing about women. especially not one outside of the north pole.
movies didn’t count. he’s watched enough romcoms (and some more.. explicit films from soonyoung’s secret stash) to know what relationships and intimacy look like. he just didn’t have any real world experience. he hasn’t had the opportunity or the time; brain too occupied year-round with crafting and gift-wrapping and class president duties.
the only people he’s ever known is his family and the elves who work for them. he’s got enough self control to not mingle with employees (unlike some of his horndog brothers). it would also just feel like a fucking crime if he did, he’s basically a small mountain compared to the elves.
so safe to say, kim mingyu has gone twenty odd years with nothing but his yearning and vivid imagination and his left hand. and he’s rightfully freaking the fuck out because this is a direct order from his parents— the bosses around here at the end of the day.
how the fuck in god’s green earth was he supposed to shoulder a responsibility like this? surely one of his more experienced brothers are better suited for the job. not to mention, fulfilling it in just one night? it’d probably take him a week of practice to just not stutter while talking to a woman from the outside, and somehow he was supposed to make you fall for him—
“oh, by the way, this is just the filtered version. i had to change the wish she wrote in her actual letter. it was too explicit.” jeonghan adds, smoke curling as he exhales.
“…which was?”
his mother’s head tilts, batting his lashes in a suggestive glance as if to say he should’ve already guessed by now. jeonghan reaches back into the drawer, pulling out a small folded note and handing it to mingyu.
mingyu unfolds it, and he realises it’s your original letter. the tanned man’s face goes white as a ghost when he reads what you wrote.
dear santa coups, i wish to get dicked DOWN on some crazy fucking shit this christmas. i wish to be eaten out from the back, to have it down my throat, to feel it in my kidney, to cum so hard i faint. THIS IS NOT A JOKE. my need for some good quality cock is terminal. i might actually die if i don’t ...
he’s not even halfway down the page before he tears his eyes away, sliding the note across the table while his hand shakes like a leaf.
his mother snorts. “too intimidating?”
not even close. going from the implication of intimacy to actually reading your sex fantasy written on paper in detail has given him whiplash.
he didn’t even know desire in women could be this.. ferocious. he wasn’t sure whether to be horny or fear for his life. now there’s an expectation he must live up to and he’s a literal virgin.
“i don’t know if i can.. do all that.” mingyu gestures to the note. “i’d embarrass myself if i tried.”
“how else do you think you’ll get to experience it?”
mingyu ran a hand through his hair, mind completely and utterly fucked. what kind of life has he been living if his parents are setting him up to get laid for christmas?
“it’s more likely than not that you will be taking up the role of santa after your father retires.” jeonghan goes on. “if you don’t go out and meet someone while you still can…”
“yeah, yeah. i know. i get it.” mingyu sighs.
“your brothers will be out there delivering gifts all over the world, while you’ll be staying at the one house and essentially having a holiday while you meet with this girl. and don’t be so hard on yourself— you might be exactly what she was dreaming of when she wrote that.”
jeonghan flips the document over, pointing to another section of info: your traits and personality. “i think you’re pretty compatible. i didn’t choose you without thinking, mingyu. and who knows? you might get something more out of it than just sex.”
his mother winks, and mingyu just shifts uncomfortably again, unsticking himself from the chair once more. he licks his lips, flipping the paper over to stare at your headshot.
he really would be lucky to spend a night with someone as pretty as you.
mingyu was already shitting bricks at the concept of having to ride on the sleigh as he hops from houses to house all night. a good santa shouldn’t be cowering in fear while he’s in the sky. at least he would only have to endure it twice for the way there and the way back.
at last, a sense of pride surges in him that his parents chose him specifically. he’s already been told that he’s the cream of the crop: the tallest, and among the fittest and the hottest of his brothers (just the facts), not to mention he cooks and he cleans.
he’s sure, objectively, anyone would want to find someone like him wrapped under their christmas tree.
he just wishes he had some more experience to his name. but, mingyu also won’t just sit around and wait to make a fool of himself. he’s going to study and research in preparation for this night like there’s a gun to his head.
even if he’s the one losing his virginity here, he’s coming over as thee santa coups, so he’s not about to half-ass fulfilling your wish. he swears to no one in particular that you’re gonna get everything you wished of and more.
“i’ll do it.” mingyu finally says, straightening his back in confidence. “thank you for this opportunity, mother. i’ll do my best.”
jeonghan nods with a lazy, satisfied grin. “ahh, you know you’ve always been my favourite son, mingyu.”
mingyu furrows his brows. “that’s nice to hear… but i already know it’s seungkwan.”
jeonghan just shrugs. “yeah, you’re right. now get out.”
mingyu wipes his clammy palms on his red pants, sweat staining the fabric in streaks as he adjusts to the height. his stomach still churned when he snuck a glance at how far up he was from the ground, but if he hadn’t had those ginger chews on the way over then his dinner would’ve ended up spilled all over your roof.
he actually made it over on the sleigh, and without bawling his eyes out, so at least the worst was over and done with.
bells jingle as his brother wonwoo rides off to his own assigned house, waving him goodbye as the reindeer-drawn sleigh disappears amongst the stars.
on the way over, mingyu ended up fessing to wonwoo about his unique assignment, particularly the fact that he was about to lose his goddamn virginity in the name of christmas. nonchalantly, his older brother had recommended he just study some porn in preparation. help him know what to expect, where to stick it in, not immediately bust at the sight of a naked woman.
except, mingyu couldn’t bring himself to because it strangely felt like… cheating? which is objectively crazy to say, but he felt as if he held a type of obligation to you. he was granting your christmas wish true and he was also ticking off a monumental achievement in his own life. this was serious business to mingyu, he wanted it to be genuine by all accounts. it’s also because he felt like he already had a crush on you just from the picture and the thought of you alone, so the only body he wanted to see was yours. again, objectively crazy. but he’s sentimental okay?
schooling his shaky breaths, mingyu takes careful steps towards your chimney, peaking down the dark tunnel he must descend.
the centuries-old christmas magic activates when santa climbs down the chimney, wiping the memory of anyone who saw him once he’s back out the other end. it also alerts the system that the person’s wish has been fulfilled.
but when mingyu locks eyes with a massive fucking spider chilling inside the chimney, he decides he actually... will do this his own way.
running his hands down his face, he weighs his options for a moment, and ultimately decides he’d rather death by falling off here than by the spider.
luckily for him, your building’s only one story (if it was two he would’ve begged wonwoo to swap). scouting the perimeter, he’s surprised to find there’s actually a ladder leaning against your house.
for… me? he swoons, almost crying on the spot from the sheer relief of not having to climb off your roof like some type of monster-sized raccoon.
he waits until his body’s not totally shaking anymore (just slightly vibrating from nerves) before he takes the first step on the ladder and starts descending.
it feels like he’s holding his breath for years before his feet finally hit solid ground. after taking a moment to gather himself and not vomit from the nerves once again, mingyu notices he’s standing right by a window half-ajar.
not only that, but on the sill sits a plate of cookies and a cup of milk. or, what he can imagine once was. nothing but crumbs and a few droplets now.
to his left, mingyu locks eyes with a big ass cartoon tiger drawn into the snow on the ground, and sighs when he realises this is soonyoung’s doing.
their mother must’ve told him to pass by and make sure things went smoothly for mingyu, hence the ladder. but not without taking a little tax in return of course— scoffing down the treats you left for santa (mingyu), leaving his calling card in the snow, and then fucking off.
his greed is sickening.
moving on, mingyu carefully places his hands under the window and slowly inches it the rest of the way up until it nearly disappears into the frame. he sets the plate and cup to the side before letting himself in, swinging his legs over the sill and planting his feet on your floorboards.
he allows himself only a moment to take in his surroundings. your home’s warm and lively— cluttered yet somehow organised. in the lounge room he’s found himself in, there’s blankets and pillows thrown all over the couch, glasses and a bottle of wine abandoned on the coffee table. the shelves were packed with books and candles and fake plants, by the door was a pile of shoes kicked off. illuminating it all was the christmas tree: wrapped in fairy lights and glittery baubles.
he has to tear his eyes away from the room to turn back to the window, moving the dishes to a nearby table before quietly bringing the window back down. it shuts with a soft click, and mingyu exhales the breath he’d been holding.
he repeats the plan to himself like a mantra. wake her up gently. introduce yourself. say you’re here to fulfil her wish. don’t pussy out of it. take it slow. ask for permission before everything. when you kiss her close your eyes. and when you touch…
mingyu shakes his head. fuck, he was already getting hard at the hypothetical thought of it. well, it’s not really hypothetical if it’s how the night was going to play out. his body was just getting ahead of itself. he couldn’t just waltz into your bedroom with a big pitch in his pants as he introduces himself as santa. he winces at the thought.
he waited until his dick was only a quarter of the way to a boner before he turns around, ready for your long-awaited first meeting— but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was for you to already be running at him with a guitar raised in the air, ready to swing.
mingyu’s brain goes from fuck to fawn as he cowers in fear on the ground, listening to your rapidly approaching footsteps and bracing himself for death.
he feels something like a war flashback, mind launched back into that time he was a teenager and his father’s ex-wife jihoon backed him into a wall and swung a guitar at him.
you could say he’s a little traumatised.
you come to a halt in front of him, and mingyu can only tremble in your presence, head buried in the crook of his arm.
“holy shit…” he hears you say distantly. “santa?”
reluctantly, he raises his head to sneak a glance at you. he flinches as your arm moves, but it’s just to lower the guitar.
“fuck, santa!? are you the real santa coups?”
mingyu manages to get out a nod, and you drop the guitar to the ground carelessly before falling to your knees in front of him.
“hey, oh, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i thought you were my ex breaking in again. hey, it’s okay. i won’t hurt you.”
your tone’s like you’re speaking to a frightened animal, hands hovering like you want to reach for him but afraid he’ll run off.
“oh wow, you must’ve been starving. i left out enough cookies for like three people.”
his initial trauma response quickly slides into immense embarrassment. remembering the man he is (or he’s supposed to be at least), mingyu stands up with a newfound confidence.
“yes. i am santa. just for tonight.”
you stand with him, eyes shamelessly dragging over his body with the way he towers over you. he feels his dick twitch in his pants under your heavy stare.
“what, you’re not santa normally?” you ask, almost in a trance as you ogle the man standing before you.
“you could say that.” he coughs, trying to get your eyes on his face and away from his gradually raising nether regions. “i’ve been sent to fulfil your wish. do you remember what you wrote .. me?”
“yeah.” you grin at him. full of confidence and not one ounce of shame. “oh my god, you’re really going to be the one to fuck me like i wished for? i would’ve been happy with anyone who wasn’t my ex really, but you, santa?”
“uh, let’s not discuss the details.” he says, a little upset you’d admit that. “and you don’t have to call me that. just ‘mingyu’ is fine.”
“oh okay, mingyu.” your lip curls into a smirk as you close in on him, moving like a cat. “so how exactly do you intend to grant my wish?”
mingyu gulps, dick twitching once again; this time at how his name rolls off your tongue. he really didn’t know how he was supposed to stay in control here. he’s got half a mind to just fall to his knees and let you do whatever the fuck you want to his face.
his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he reminds himself of everything he vehemently studied, everything he read in writing that you wanted to happen. starting with the kissing.
but first: don’t make someone drink tea if they don’t want it.
“is it okay with you?” he clears his throat, forcing himself to keep eye contact. “can i kiss you?”
you blink, taken aback— before your smile stretches wider and you nod enthusiastically. “so he’s a gentleman too. yes, you can kiss me.”
mingyu closes the distance with baby steps. you chuckle when he bends at the knees to be at face-level with you. the sound knocks the wind out of mingyu, and he freezes at the proximity; how your warm breath fans his lips, lashes fluttering shut in anticipation.
the picture on the profile did you no justice. you’re so, so gorgeous and he almost can’t do it. of course he wants to, you’ve got no idea how much, but your pretty face has him going dumb.
so dumb that when you close the small gap yourself and your mouth presses on his, he forgets to close his eyes as you kiss him first.
he watches you through it: how you tilt your head to slot your lips better against his, how you breathe out through your nose and hum a little into the kiss.
remembering that he needs to move too, mingyu follows your lead and cocks his head more opposite to yours, allowing the kiss to deepen as you sigh into his parted lips.
your hands trail up his arms, squeezing almost imperceptibly to get a feel of what’s under the santa uniform before your palms slide to hold either side of his neck, his pulse thrumming under your touch.
you stay like that for a bit. caressing his neck, breaths growing heavier in the open-mouthed kisses. mingyu’s hands twitch at his sides; tongue too big for his mouth, pants too tight for his crotch. he knows you want to get manhandled, but he’s complete mush under the plush feel of your lips right now.
what felt like thirty seconds of kissing for you, felt like an eternity for mingyu as you part with him. you smile, palms sliding up to hold his face.
“you don’t have to play shy with me.” you coo. fuck, if only he could stop. you bite your bottom lip at him, eyes going half-lidded. “you know how i want it. so don’t hold back, okay? mingyu?”
the look and the tone you shot him, dripping with pure desire, was enough of a shove for mingyu to lean in first this time— teeth knocking together as he kisses you hard, stealing your breath into his mouth and making his head foggy.
without even realising it, his tongue swipes across your lower lip, and your sigh in response is all the warning he gets before your tongue licks into his mouth.
mingyu doesn’t even realise he was backing up til his backside hits the windowsill. he doesn’t even realise why until your chest presses up against his, fingers curling in his hair as you kiss him with more force. his body must’ve been dodging your attempts to close the distance until there was literally no where else to run. his hands find purchase on your hips, and he stifles a throaty noise when he feels just how much they’re trying to rock into him.
he bends himself at an awkward angle as he leans against the wall, trying to keep his already embarrassingly hard length from bumping into you; all the while struggling to not literally moan over just how hard you’re kissing him, how desperately you’re trying to roll your hips onto his. first time ever just kissing a woman, and you’re already this worked up? all that studying really paid off. he could pat himself on the back, if only he still had control over his own hands.
he dug his fingers so hard into your hips he’s sure you only moved them because they started to hurt. except, when you guide his hands down to grab at your ass instead, mingyu can’t help but squeeze even fucking tighter.
he feels crazy, completely lost in you just from some kissing and groping. lucky he’s keeping his crotch angled away from you because even just the right brush against him could make him cum right now. god, the letter he’d write about what he wants you to do to him would make yours look like child’s play.
and you’re eating this up. you’re whining appreciatively into each harsh kiss of his tongue against yours, each dig of his nails into your ass.
his plan of approaching this as respectfully as he could is gone in smoke. that’s not what you wished for. he didn’t even know if he physically could live up to the standard you’ve set, but all he’s sure of now is that he’ll do whatever the fuck it takes to keep you holding and whining onto him just like this.
he almost forgot he’s also the one who’s never done this before.
it’s not until you actually reach down and grab him through his red pants, and he keels over with an accidental groan, that he remembers the only touch he’s ever felt is his own.
yours is a stark contrast. one, it’d probably take both of your hands to cover his whole length. two, it only takes you stroking him a little through the fabric before he’s certain he’s going to cum embarrassingly soon.
mingyu rips your hand off of him, panting like a dog as he stares at you— your own eyes watching him in wonder.
are guys not usually this fucked up over the same thing you and him just did? man, mingyu had a lot more ways to go than he thought.
one thing was for sure, and that is he will not be fucking fail you. he had to lock the fuck in.
“i’ll give it to you.” he says in the lowest, sexiest tone he can muster, not even recognising his own voice. “just tell me how you want it.”
he swears your eyes glimmer with stars as you smile at him. you take mingyu by the fuzzy white trim on his jacket, tugging him so close he can see the gloss of his own spit on your lips. “couch. in me. now.”
he doesn’t get to respond in his practiced seductive voice before you’re stealing his mouth in a kiss again, pressing yourself against him and guiding his hands to roam over every bump of your body.
you lead mingyu by the jacket as you walk backwards, until your legs hit the couch and you fall back onto the cushions. you pull him until his knees hit the edge, and he can only watch with bated breath as you go straight for unbuckling his belt, your eyes completely swallowed in black.
mingyu’s pants drop to the floor with a loud thud of his belt buckle against the wood. your jaw literally drops at the sight before you: his length straining against his calvin klein boxers, precum staining the fabric at the tip.
you lick your lips, fingers digging in tighter where they’re resting on his thighs, and mingyu has to stop you with a gentle hand cupping your face— because he knows exactly what you’re thinking and he will not be able to stop you if you do that.
“you first.” he says, thumb stroking your cheek.
you huff, pouting up at him; and if he didn’t have a literal job to do as santa then he’d forget it all and let you suck him dry.
you lean back on the couch, tugging your pyjama shorts and underwear off in the one motion. mingyu does the same with this fuckass santa jacket, standing before you in just his boxers. you stay slouched as you present it all for him: spreading your legs, then giggling as his own buckles.
mingyu falls to his knees, completely in a trance at the sight of your bare pussy. god, this iseverything he could of wished for. maybe even more since his imagination would never even compare to you. he’s not sure how he’ll last even more than a minute in that before falling apart like the virgin he is.
“you’re making me shy,” you blush, legs moving to shut since mingyu had said nothing during his staring competition with your pussy.
“wait—” mingyu’s not even thinking anymore as he reaches out to grab your hamstrings. you ease under his touch, letting him guide your thighs back open.
he feels like he’s about to start drooling here.
“please, can i—” mingyu can’t help but watch as slick literally drips from your hole under his stare, and his brain short circuits. “oh fuck—”
he’s entirely instinct when he dives in, mouth licking at every part of your pussy he can cover.
you squeal at just how crazed he’s eating you out, thighs clamping around his head and fingers burying in his dark locks. for a few seconds, he’s just lapping his tongue with no rhyme or rhythm, just cause he wants to taste all of you— but when a high-pitched whine resounds from above, mingyu realises he’s found the clit.
he latches onto it before he can lose it again, closing his lips around it and sucking. that gets you to completely bury his face between your legs, moaning and heaving while he eats you out and mingyu knows he probably doesn’t sound any better.
another harsh tug on his hair has a low groan from mingyu rumbling on your pussy. he changes pace, bobbing his head so his tongue slides from your hole to your clit as your arousal gushes onto his mouth.
“how the— fffuck are you so good at this?!” you pant out, wincing when his tongue comes to swirl around your clit.
mingyu takes that as a sign to keep doing precisely what he’s doing, and it’s not long at all until you’re shouting out his name between cusses— back arching off the bed, pussy throbbing under his tongue as you orgasm seizes you.
mingyu’s diligent to lick you through it, feeling his own dick pulsing in his boxers from just how fucking hot you are. he’s not entirely sure where your orgasm starts or ends, so he waits until you paw at him that it’s too much for his mouth to pop off you— completely covered in slick down to his chin.
you blink slowly at mingyu as you slouch on the couch, looking like you’re done for the night already. he’s in awe of you when you tug him up by the scruff of his neck, meeting him halfway for a kiss. you lick at his tongue, moaning over the taste of yourself.
while you kiss him like he’s the air you breathe, mingyu fumbles around on the floor for his pants, fishing out one of the many condoms he stuffed in his pocket.
he thinks he slyly tugs his boxers down, but he is proven very wrong when you just reach out and grip him again— mingyu’s head falling forward onto your shoulder with a moan, hands holding onto your thighs for dear life.
“damn, big boy.” you mutter, mostly to yourself. “probably should’ve fingered me. but i’m too horny to give a fuck anymore. you can make it fit.”
mingyu can only nod, thrusting his hips out from your fist and immediately regretting it since he can feel just how dangerously close he is already.
he gets the condom on himself in record time, placing his knees on the couch and crawling over you as he lines himself up.
his dick twitches when his tip even just prods at your hole, and mingyu swears to the ghost of christmas past that he will not bust under a minute.
mingyu keeps his hands cradling your face and your hip as he nudges forward, and the stretch is noticeable immediately. not only is he big, but you’re squeezing him, even after cumming already.
it takes literally everything in him and then some to keep going. pushing all the way in, even if it’s the tightest grip he’s ever fucking felt and you’re whimpering so beautifully in his ear right now.
the second he bottoms out, you both moaning in unison as you flutter and twitch around each other— mingyu’s certain that he’s in love.
“are you okay?” he breathes out, peppering your face with kisses as you adjust to him in shudders. “i’m not hurting you?”
you shake your head, mouth stretching in a dazed smile. “do your worst.”
so he does. or he tries. he drags his cock out to the tip just to snap it back in. he repeats the action over and over, spurred on by all the broken noises falling from your lips. he still thinks he could do better. if only he wasn’t close to cumming his pants the moment you put your tongue in his mouth.
mingyu’s hand slides down to your thigh and hoists it up, bending your knee against your tummy. bracing himself, mingyu starts fucking you properly— the head of his cock ramming into your g-spot with each thrust in this new position.
you sound like you’re crying, and mingyu would stop immediately if only you weren’t nodding feverishly for him to keep going. your nails rake down his shoulders, and the sting causes his hips to stammer and hit your cervix. you clamp down on him in kind, eliciting a broken moan straight from mingyu’s chest.
mingyu bends at the waist, his chest pressing right up against yours and sandwiching you into the couch. he fucks into you with quick snaps; barely even pulling out, just staying completely engulfed in your heat and angling right into the spot that has your eyes rolling back into your head.
“this is good, right?” mingyu pants out, somehow still self-conscious that he’s not doing a well enough job. “feels good?”
you grab a fistful of mingyu’s hair, so hard he’s sure he’ll have a bald patch— and with a wicked grin, you grit out a “fuck me harder.”
he completely loses it at that. mingyu feels the desire to please you completely overtake his body— he presses a hand on your tummy as he rams his hips into you at a crazed speed, so hard he’s sure it would be painful, but you take it all with a drunk smile.
mingyu can barely hear the way you’re shouting his name with the ringing in his ears. he’s been so, so fucking close this whole damn time and it hurts. it hurts so good. the way you’re leaving scratches on his scalp as you rip at his hair, the way you’re strangling the goddamn life out of his cock.
he can feel just how deep he’s in you with the hand pressing down, and— oh fuck— you’re—
you start tightening around mingyu in spasms as another orgasm completely overtakes you, moaning out pleas of “don’t stop” and “right there” and he can’t do anything but fuck you both through it as he starts to cum himself.
mingyu feels like he’s cumming forever. the condom completely fills up, he’s surprised it literally didn’t tear with how hard he was fucking you.
when he finally pulls out, he does it so quickly you both gasp at the loss of sensation. he’s worried his dick would’ve just kept going if he didn’t though.
mingyu feels so entirely enamoured with you right now. he just lost his virginity. without making a fool of himself (hopefully). and you’re so fucking beautiful and you’re real and laying under him, smiling like he hung the moon in the sky.
“you’ve got boyfriend dick, mingyu.”
his heart swells at you referring to him like that, but he tries not to get ahead of himself. “…what does that mean?”
“means you’re the best fuck i’ve ever had. who in the north pole is teaching you all that?”
he doesn’t reply as he lays down next to you, wrapping a big arm over your middle and nuzzling his face into your neck. he doesn’t want to ruin the illusion if he answers truthfully.
instead, he asks: “does this mean you wouldn’t mind seeing me again?”
you laugh at the big puppy eyes he’s giving you. “don’t you have santa stuff to do?”
he actually forgot that’s what he was here for. it’s no use anyways, since he didn’t climb down the chimney. the magic didn’t activate. your memory won’t be wiped when he leaves.
he’s not sure he wanted you to forget him anyways, though. he actually just fell in love with you.
“you’re the ‘stuff’ i had to do.” he says, and you just shake your head with a chuckle. “so what about it? meet you here next christmas?”
you lean in and kiss him, so softly. it catches him off guard when you say: “i’m not even done with you yet this christmas.”
M.LIST ⋮ TAGLIST ⋮ ASK
extra since i kept thinking about this while writing the smut lol
