#like he’s been stretched and not in a good way

[tonycries]

We Don’t Have No Babies!

Synopsis. Well, it’s a bit difficult to have no babies when they’re well and fully intent on fúcking one into you.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, mentions of kids, máting press, pússydrunk boys, manhandling, marking, spitting, degradation, praise, cúmplay, the elders ugh (Gojo’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.9k

A/N. WHEWW take this as an apology gift for missing yesterday’s post date, I overslept eheheh.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - What’s another?

“Don’t hah- pass out on me yet, doll.” Toji hisses. Spreading your swollen folds further apart with his fingers, already stretched so obscenely around his swollen cock, and only trying to squeeze deeper. “What was it that brat said again?”

And you can only let out a broken whine in response - too high off the stretch and the utterly sinful pool of his cum spreading on the sheets below. It’s been like this for hours now, both of you barely lucid at this point. But you can’t bring yourself to be disgusted, not even a little bit. 

Because Toji’s throwing your legs over his shoulders, pressing down, down, down, till your knees were at your tits. Folded in half, and stuffed full beneath him. God, you weren’t going to make it out alive. 

“Oh, riiight.” he drags out, voice strained. Deceivingly innocent had it not been for that devilish grin. “He called you ‘mama’.”

And there it was - Megumi’s tiny, seemingly mindless slip-up that got you into this mess in the first place. One that had poked some raw, primal part of Toji so dangerously awake.

The one that had Toji splitting you in half with his aching cock, hips pressing so hard against yours that it almost hurts. Fucking into you in slow, languid motions of his hips, while he drinks in your sobbed out little, “Ah- Hngh- Toji, s’too much I-” 

Lazily, he thumbs open your folds even more, watching in awe at the way his seed dribbles and oozes down your thighs, seeping into the mattress. It takes him a while to form the words, too hazy from how warm and sloppy you were inside. 

“Too much?” he drawls, with the audacity to sound genuinely taken aback. “I don’t think it’s enough, ma.”

It’s the only warning you get - barely - before he laces his fingers on top of your head to take him deeper, snapping his hips harder. Sloppier. Sensitive cock stinging with sensitivity, balls squeezing painfully. It hurt, but it hurt so good. And Toji wasn’t even sure if he could cum again. But he was milking his cock on your pussy like he was gonna fill you up until he physically couldn’t anymore.

“B-but m’so full.” you babble, mouth dropping into a fucked-out little oh! as you look down at the way you were swallowing him up so well. “Dunno if I can’t hngh- t-take anymore.” 

Oh shit, had he said that out loud? Ah, who gives a fuck. Because Toji was chuckling in surprise, stuck on the way you could still form coherent sentences - he had to fix that, of course. 

“Shhh. Don’ worry about it. Jus’ need to fill you up- ah, fuck a baby into ya, ma.”  he gently kisses away those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “All you gotta do is sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” 

Hand snaking down to toy with your swollen clit - frenzied, barely-circular motions just to get you off. Because shit he can’t just stuff you full of his cock without getting the mother of his future kids off, right? And he let you know, of course. Maybe he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear - probably it was just promises of how he was gonna fill your pretty lil’ cunt till morning comes and Megumi was gonna be the best big brother and-

“-m’gonna make ‘em breakfast. And you’ll dress ‘em up. We’ll read oh- them bedtime stories and-” he’s babbling so pathetically into the crook of your neck now. “-an’ tuck ‘em into bed- Oh, fuck fuck fuck.” Drunk off your pussy and the heavenly feeling of his heavy balls squeezing so dangerously, letting his hips go out of control now. “And then- hngh, and then-”

“T-then what?” you let out such cute sobs into his open mouth, seeing stars behind your eyes each time he ravages you.

“Ya really wanna know, ma?”

Somehow, his words have you squeezing around him so good. Enough that it’s almost difficult to move inside you. Enough that Toji doesn’t even realize that he’s cumming and cumming so hard that you’re bloated with his seed. Squelching out of your quivering pussy and soaking his cock as he doesn’t even think of stopping even as you keen at your poor overfilled pussy, teeth latching onto your earlobe as he holds you still for him. 

“And then…” Toji’s hot breath fans your face, voice guttural and sounding like he was losing a little bit of his sanity with each thrust. Hips moving again and again to fuck his cum deeper into you. “And then m’gonna fuck another one into you.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Lonely? No problem!

“Aww, m’sorry. Did I make you feel lonely, my love?” Kissing your lips softly, running his hands all over the pretty lil’ lace covering your body - just barely, of course. “Did I leave my pretty lil’ wife all alone in this big house?” 

You give him a pouty little nod, and oh does that do something to Nanami’s heart - and his achingly hard cock. And he can’t help but pull the drenched fabric of your panties further to the side, greedily honing in on the way you glisten and clench around him. 

“Well, we should fix that, right? So that my pretty baby is never alone in here.”

You would be reassured by his answer - had it not been for the way Nanami doesn’t even wait for your reply. Instead, looking straight into your eyes while he pushes his thick cock deeper inside you. Not even fucking preparing you as he usually would.

“Oh! Oh, mm fuck-” And it’s all you can do to buck into his touch and just fucking take it while he grunts at the slight resistance. For once in his life more concerned about trying to fuck desperately into your dripping cunt than whether or not your poor pussy would hurt herself trying to take him. 

That merciful, practical little part of his brain going slow to let you adjust to his massive cock - because, well, he couldn’t break the mother of his future children. Now, could he?

But oh how you’d beg to differ with the way Nanami fucks into you in languid , shallow grinds of his hips. No matter how many times Nanami stuffed you full of his cock - his size never failed to disappoint. Stretching you out, fingers swiping at your clit, expertly grazing against all the right spots he knew so maddeningly well. 

“Two or three?”

It takes you a second to register that he’s waiting for your answer - too delirious with the way your husband’s splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Leaving neat crescents of his nails on your hips as he holds your slutty pussy still. 

“W-what?”

“Two or three?” Nanami gives your pulsing clit a little smack! as if to get your attention, hips stuttering ever-so-slightly at the way you squeeze his thick cock in surprise. “How many babies am I fuckin’ into you, my love?” 

Oh. Oh, shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

But were you really complaining? No.

Swallowing thickly, “Ah! Fuck, Kento- wan’ two.”

And maybe you’re a mastermind, maybe you’re an idiot. Because nowhere is the gentleman that you married, Nanami’s spitting on your quivering cunt once. Twice. Watching like a predator stalking his prey at the way it misses - purposefully, splattering against your inner thigh.

Smearing it all over your pussy and your panties - which he was too impatient, too starved - to remove. Messy. 

It’s all Nanami needed to do before he’s bottoming out completely. Pressing his forehead against yours in such a sweet motion, even though his hips were so mean. Drinking in your delirious whines as his heavy balls smack your ass. Over and over-

The duality making your head spin as he fucks his cute lil’ wife dumb, part of his sanity dancing away with his restraint every time your slutty hole sucks him up so deliciously. 

“Shit. More?” he grunts, sounding absolutely wrecked. Moaning at the way you tug at his hair, legs wrapping around his toned waist as if to urge him to go faster. Deeper. Begging. Begging him to ruin you. More more more- 

And, of course, what his girl wants - she gets. Because Nanami’s dragging his weeping tip across your swollen folds, all the way out till he’s collecting your sweet juices on his head. “Better take it like my good wife then.”

Then he’s pushing and pushing inside your tight pussy, but not like he was before. Jagged, desperate grinds of his hip - no adoration, no warmth. Just fucking you like his little slut, high off the idea of fucking his cum into you till you couldn’t walk. Till you were so full of him that he’s all you could think of. “We’ll have such beautiful babies, my love.” 

“Shit shit shit, Kento- yer gonna ruin me-” you’re whining, body torn between arching into Nanami’s unforgiving cock and running away. 

As if you ever had a chance - he was holding you so bruisingly by the hips, gasping into your mouth. “Shhh, that’s the point.”  Fucking you so filthy, each word punctuated by his out-of-control hips, so harsh and unfocused with lust that those tufts of blond at his base scratch your sensitive nub. And the feeling is so fucking obscene that you barely hear the words that follow. “You jus’ focus on taking care of my babies, n’ m’gonna be the one to ruin this pretty cunt- The one to fill you up- fuck. ”

Nanami throws his head back as you squeeze the soul out of his throbbing cock, so pent-up and needy that you’re creaming all over his cock already. And of course, Nanami isn’t any better - because with a strangled groan of your name, he’s cumming. Hard. almost painfully so. 

“N’ you’ll never be lonely, cuz everyone’s gonna see you and see me. I did that.” 

Jolts of electricity going all the way from his heavy balls to the thick, hot ropes of cumming filling your dripping pussy. Painting it all a desperate, desperate white.

And shit was Nanami an entirely different man tonight. Pulling out ever-so-slightly, only to admire his seed gushing out of you - so lewd and his. 

“Y’know what, my love, I don’t think two will be enough after all.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Pretty (and his)

“Awww, pretty baby.” Geto purrs, in such a dangerously low voice, smacking his tip - so red, and angry - all across your swollen folds. He bites his lip at the way his cum spills down your legs, pooling onto the hardwood floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! “Y’want it so badly, huh?”

“Shit- hngh- please!”

You don’t know what you’re begging for - maybe release. Maybe mercy. Maybe to be anywhere but here - shoved against the wall right beside the front door, dress hiked up, almost your way to go clubbing with your friends before your beloved boyfriend had caught you. And stuffed you full of his cum, at least.

Whatever it is, Geto only gets messier, teasing your sloppy hole by slamming in - just barely grazing that one spot. And pulling out completely, watching you clench and glisten in the dim lighting. In. And out. In and out in and-

“Sugu!” you squeal, tired of the way he was having way too much making such a mess of your pussy. Swiping at your slick, and shoving his seed back into you - smirking at the obscene mess. 

“Mhm?” he nods absent-mindedly. Eyes flitting between your ravaged pussy and that absolutely adorable pout on your lips. Chuckling, “What~? If I cum in this cute pussy one more time, you’re sure to get pregnant, y’know.” 

Scoffing, “Shoulda thought of that when you came inside me the first time.”

Geto rolls his thumb over your sore clit - just as a little punishment - breath hot against your ear as he whispers raggedly.  “And are you complaining, gorgeous?”

“N-no…” 

“Then?”

He’s licking little circles at the crook of your neck now, in time with the maddening, frenzied patterns on your cunt. Enough friction to keep those pretty lil’ whines spilling from your swollen lips, but still teasing you just enough to have you bucking and keening onto his aching cock for more more more-

“Please! I jus’ want your cock, Sugu-”

All it takes is your broken little whimper, and it’s like something snapped - because Geto’s plunging into your plushy walls completely. Finally giving you an ounce of that friction you’ve been craving for so long. Only half the man he was once before while fucks into you deliriously. 

“F-fuck. Love it when you’re so messy f’me.” he’s hissing lowly, as if you could be anything but messy. As if he’s not pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some slut, hips snapping mercilessly. As if he isn’t absolutely ruining you.

And maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the pure disrespect in his cock. Fucking you nothing like the sweet sweet whispers he was muttering in your ear, ragged and hoarse with desire.

“Gonna fill you up, huh? Give me some cute lil’ babies?” he groans,nibbling on your earlobe, fingers pressing down around your throat so the only response he gets are wet gurgles. Ones that go straight to his twitching balls, as Geto keeps running his mouth pussydrunk. “They better have your personality, don’ wanna share my pretty girl. Isn’t that right?”

So mean. Just babbling like you rarely get to see him - usually the ever-graceful Geto Suguru. Now, drunk on your tight pussy and the image of you with a little baby with black hair and him - there for it all. His perfect little family. 

“Gonna be the perfect momma, huh?” 

Geto only gets a broken little whimper in response - one that almost makes him want to go easy on you. Almost, instead, he settles for breathing out a ragged, “Fuck fuck fuck, yeah, gorgeous. Squeeze me s’tight like that - jus’ like that jus’ like that-” 

Trailing such a delicate finger up your legs, Geto pools that sinful mixture of your slick and his cum on his fingertips - before shoving them unforgivingly in your mouth. The slightly salty taste was so addictive on your tongue - and, hell, you aren’t even mad that you’re running late to meet your friends.

Smirking as you gag and mewl around him, he only gets sloppier. Faster. Licking a long, languid stripe up your neck, just knowing that he’s gonna cum inside your cute pussy harder than he has his whole life. Have your poor pussy bloated with him him him- “Now, yer gonna go to that lil’ party of yours jus’ like this. And everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Can’t help himself

“N-no, swear-” Choso lets out a broken little whimper into the crook of your neck. Feet flat on the bed, hips bucking up mindlessly over and over to where you were splayed out so prettily on top of him. So messy and dripping all over his glistening cock. “Gonna ngh- be the last one- I s-swear.”

You’ve heard this broken little mantra before - and you knew it wouldn’t end well for your poor pussy. Especially not with Choso bullying his weeping cock back into your snug cunt. “But, Cho!” you gasp, “We’re out of-”

He knows you’re out of condoms. But, really, does it matter?

Because shit were you like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. And, well, here he was - completely pussydrunk, two rounds and a still rock-hard cock later. The only thing on his mind from then on was to not paint your pretty pussy white with his seed, no matter how much he wanted do. 

“Last time, baby. Promise I won’t cum inside.” And then he’s batting this long lashes so unfairly up at you. So fucking beautiful with his dark hair untied, lips swollen, eyes-half-hooded and miles away. And, well, how could you say no to that?

And you’ve barely gotten out your delirious little nod before Choso’s wrapping two strong arms around your waist, pulling you so intimately closer like he worshipped you - while he fucks your hot cunt like anything but. So hard that you knew it would leave marks - your nails on his chest, his balls on your ass, fingers on your waist. 

God, you were squeezing so desperately around him and he just thinks he might just cum right then and there. So fucking perfect that Choso knows he’s never buying another box of condoms ever again. 

“F-fuck, feels s’good. Love having you so deep n’ messy inside me.”

You were going to be the death of him.

“Hngh- fuck fuck fuck, yeah? You like that, baby?” he groans lowly. Abs burning and flexing each time he rams his cock into your tight pussy, absolutely loving the way you were leaking his cum all over the sheets. 

“Shit- I-” 

“Yes, Cho~?”

Face burning in embarrassment, choking pathetically on his words, Choso instead lets his hips do the talking. Strained whimpers of your name leaving him each time he bullies his painfully twitching cock through your plushy walls.

Voice cracking almost-embarrassingly at the end as he rambles, “Oh my god- y’feel so fucking good wrapped around me, baby. Wanna- hngh-” Trying his very best to sound like every cute lil’ whimper didn’t make his thoughts steer into the dangerous territory of how pretty you’d be with his kid. Of a little girl with dark hair and your eyes and-

You. His hips speeding up now, so sloppy with now rhyme or rhythm. How round and glowing you’d be with his kid. You, how everyone would know that he was that ruined your pretty pussy n’ got you this way. You, you, you-

“Wanna cum in this cute pussy, baby.” He finally confesses. Hips getting so messy - mindless, quick little jabs that have you keening on top of him, balls squeezing painfully. “Wanna fill y’up until you can’t take it anymore, fuck you so full until we have a pretty baby. Can I, baby? Please don’t say no please please-”

And at this point all you can do is whine and buck your hips to meet his merciless cadence, letting Choso crane his neck and kiss you senseless. “Fuck yeah. Thought you’d never ask-” you mutter, muffled around where he was sucking on your lips, like they were his favorite candy. “Want you to cum inside me, Cho.”

Well, you didn’t need to tell Choso twice because no sooner have the words left your lips before he’s giving you one harsh thrust. Veins throbbing against your gummy walls, again and again. 

Tears pricking his eyes as he cums with such a guttural grunt of your name. “Gonna have a pretty lil’ girl.” Both white-white pleasure and the image of you and him and his daughter flashing behind his eyes. “She’ll look just as beautiful as you, baby. N’ have your cute smile.”

Your own orgasm is nothing more than a few tingles, overstimulated and limp on top of Choso as stuffs you full of his seed. Thick, white ropes that gushing all the way out of your snug pussy, smearing all over his twitching balls. 

You could get used to this.

And it’s such a heavenly feeling that Choso barely registers his hips moving again, as if on instinct. Fucking mindlessly into you again. Again and again. Gasping, breath hot against your ear. 

“Only one more, baby. Promise.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - A reward

“F-fuck, woman” Sukuna grunts, fingers so bruising on your hips as you slide down his throbbing erection. Inch by fucking inch, keening at the delicious burn. “Y’act so innocent but you’ve got such a slutty lil’ pussy, huh?”

As expected, the only response he gets is an incoherent babble of agreement. Your eyes watering, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth as you struggle to take him. And his sharp eyes narrow in amusement at the sight of his painfully inexperienced consort’s pretty cunt sucking him up so eagerly. Hips stuttering and leaking your sweet, sweet so sloppily juices all over his thighs.

Humans were always such interesting little creatures.

“Tch.”

Slow ones, too, apparently.

Because immediately, Sukuna’s stuffing himself into your sloppy pussy as far as it would go. Groaning at the resitance, a large hand pumping his cock slowly - enticingly - as he fucks his hips in quick, shallow little thrusts, just to fit himself inside your snug cunt. 

And you needed to breathe in and out maybe, relax your plushy walls, but Sukuna wasn’t going to wait. Why would he? He had his favorite woman - not that he’d ever let you know - sat on his lap, legs spread so shamefully and bouncing on his thick cock.

“F-fuck.” his jaw falls slack ever so slightly, groaning at the feeble resistance against his massive cock. Still only half-inside you but still pushing relentlessly. “S’like your pussy was made f’me, brat. Milking me so well.”

“Shit shit shit- hah- ‘Kuna, feel s’good-” you gasp, thighs quivering with the pressure to meet his rough cadence. And Sukuna huffs out a low laugh at your audacity to call his name, feeling charitable enough today to forgive this transgression. 

Instead toying with your pretty clit, pinching and rolling between his thick fingers, loving the way you buck and squeal his name. 

“Hmm, feels good?” he hums dangerously, amused at your barely-lucid little nod. Fucking into you like his personal fucktoy - his favorite one. “Good ‘nough to give me an heir?”

At this your eyes snap open - but not for long because you just have to screw them shut again with Sukuna finally bottoming out in a quick, harsh thrust. Splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock, veins throbbing a maddening little bump! bump! bump! matching your heartbeat. 

You barely have the time to breathe out a sigh of relief before he’s fucking into you. Unforgivingly. Like the monster he claims to be. All the blood draining into his achingly dick at the idea of fucking his cum into you until you couldn’t walk. 

And he tells you - chuckling at the cute lil’ ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time his fat head hits your cervix. “Y’want that, my little slut? To be my cute plaything to breed? Help m’make the next king of curses?”

Fuck, you don’t know if you’re reeling more from the way he was ramming his cock into you or the way he was talking to you in that mean little tone. 

“Mmm- yes! Yes yes yes!”

“Use your words.”

“Wan’-” you hiccup, batting your lashes at him so tearily, in a way that makes Sukuna’s heart thump so strangely. An uneven little beat matching the led rhythm of his hips. “Wan’ your cum- gonna give you a kid.”

So cockdrunk and delirious, you barely register the way he wrestles your arms behind your back, using it like leverage to bounce you harder and harder on his cock. Only looking up at him with such cute lil’ heart eyes as Sukuna uses you as he pleases. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck yeah?‘ he gasps into your open mouth. Teeth latching onto the crook of your neck, biting down right over your pulse. Dangerous. “Gonna make me an heir so powerful. Have him treat you like a queen n’ kill everyone that doesn’t? Ya like that, my lil’ slut?”

“Shit- ah- I want that s’bad, ‘Kuna.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

And oh how pretty you look, cunt clenching and all surprised at the knock on the door - some lowly human here to beg for their life, maybe. But it doesn’t matter, because Sukuna’s only licks away the big, fat tears streaming down your cheek, hips burning while he breeds you like some animal. Hard, and almost violent.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same, breathless and shaking on Sukuna’s lap while he fill you with his hot seed. Thick and intoxicating. Hips unstopping, just animalistic little movements from such a carnal part of himself. Over and over-

And you’re so fucking drunk off of your lord’s cock that you barely even realize when he’s thumbing your ravaged cunt open. Letting his cum drip all the way down to his gaudy throne, on full display for whoever was about to-

“Come in.”

It’s adorable how you try to scramble off his lap, trying - and failing - to cover yourself up as the door cracks open. 

“Not yet, woman.” Sukuna grasps you in an iron-hold grip, dangerously sharp nails tethering right at your throat and your hips. Starting to drag you up and down on his swollen cock once more with no concern or care for whoever was about to enter. “Gotta make sure it takes.”

It was filthy. 

Completely debauched. And exactly where you wanted to be. You and your lord - and maybe your future heir, too.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Give ‘em what they want!

“Hah- f-fuck imagine- Imagine I fucked the next s-strongest into you right now.”

Oh. 

You knew by the look in his eyes that something was off - that something hadn’t gone well in that meeting with the elders. Really, it was a miracle he attended in the first place, but somehow you had an inkling that this was the type of something that would have you needing a miracle.

That was three hours ago.

And fuck did you need a miracle - because Gojo had you splayed out on top your office desk, his cum spreading in a pool beneath, you throbbing cock stuffing in and out of your snug cunt while you try not to alert the entirety of Jujutsu High about how needy the great Gojo Satoru was being right now.

Gojo’s ramming his swollen dick into your poor, overstimulated pussy like he was drunk off the sight of you all cockdrunk and in a tight mating press. Moaning at the sting of painfully hard erection twitching inside you, and your nails running down his back. 

Not even bothering to let you adjust this time before he’s fucking you again and again and-

You think it’s a bit unfair, really. Because who were you against the strongest? Well, the pretty lil’ wife who’s going to give him his successor, apparently. 

“Shit- wouldn’t that be funny?” he lets out a humorless laugh, wrestling your legs further and further apart. Eyeing the way you suck him up lewdly, “If I made my kid the strongest n’ just wiped these old fossils out?”

“T-Toru- we’ll get ca-”

“Caught? Who fuckin’ cares, they want a Gojo successor n’ they’re gonna get one.”

He’s letting out his frustration in the way he chases both your highs for the - well, you lost count which orgasm it was at this point. Letting you stain all over the expensive desk as he yells out little curses into your mouth.

And oh how you want to kiss that little furrow in his brow, to whisper away his stress - but, no, the only thing getting Gojo out of this bad mood was to fully and thoroughly ruin his girl’s cute lil’ cunt. 

But Toru-” you sob into his open mouth, hips bucking wildly for more. “What if I can’t give you the strongest…” You know you’re babbling deliriously, little insecurities you didn’t even know you had coming to the surface as it really hits you that shit this is your Gojo. And he’s here. And he’s fucking you until he’s sure you’re pregnant.

“Who gives a shit?” he licks away the big, fat tears streaking down your face. Salty on his tongue while he plays with your pretty clit, rubbing quick, tight little circles on it. 

As if to emphasize his point, Gojo brings his fingertips to his mouth with a lewd pop! So blissfully wrapping his lips around them. Darkened blue eyes rolling to the back of his head at the taste - it only spurs him on more. 

Fingers immediately back down on your clit. Frenzied - like he couldn’t wait any longer, like it killed him to not see you cum again. Body bowing into yours, hand digging and bruising on your hips as he holds your filthy pussy still on his cock, 

“Fuck, gonna give it all to you, sweetheart. M’gonna train them to be the strongest n’ protect their pretty mommy.” 

Sloppy, he was so fucking sloppy - such a mess of teeth and spit and pure desire to paint your walls white. 

“Gonna have my eyes, huh? N’ your hair. Fuck they’re gonna regret bringing this up.” Babbling little nonsenses that drove you mad. He sounded so fucking pathetic, crazed with lust. “Ooooh they’re gonna regret it.” Overstimulated enough that it hurt.

Kissing the side of your ankle beside his head, lacing his fingers together to pull you further and further down his rock-hard cock. Sloppy and moving with no rhyme or reason. “Because they fucking hate me. All of ‘em will look at our kid n’ you - so round and pretty and see me. All me.” 

Now, you’ve heard of orgasms that come out of nowhere - ones that have you convulsing and gripping onto Gojo - the desk, his shoulders, his hair. And this was no different. “Ah! Hngh, Toru m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Delirious, white-hot pleasure cracking behind his eyes, Gojo’s pumping hot thick, hopes ropes of cum into your poor, overfilled pussy. And shit no thrill of taking out the elders could compare to watching the way his seed drips down the side. Slow, and thick, pooling at his quivering balls as he fucks you like an animal. Over and over and-

“Hey, sweetheart, y’think if I cum in you again, they’ll come out twice as strong?”

“...”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo x reader #geto x reader #sukuna x reader #nanami x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #sukuna smut #nanami smut #tonywrites #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #choso smut #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #toji x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #toji fushiguro smut #nanami x reader smut #choso x reader smut #geto x reader smut

[pierregazly]

shaking for you ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, pussy-drunk oscar, oral (fem!receiving), p in v - no protection, minor overstimulation, oscar is a dirty talker, mention of cockwarming [914 words]

request: can you please do do 28 from the 🌶️ prompt list with oscar 😽 [28. “I love that we both already finished and your legs are still shaking.”]

The grip you had on his hair was unrelenting, his tongue moving in circles as you pushed your core closer to his face, practically begging him for more, begging for him to make you cum for a third time that night.

He had practically bent you over the second he was through the door, having not seen you in weeks, he was insatiable, eager to see you, eager to get the chance to be inside you, to have his tongue pressed to your clit. To have you moaning his name. Shaking for him.

Your clothes lay in tatters on the floor, bruises forming on your hips, your breasts, up the side of your neck. 

Oscar’s skin wasn’t much different. Scratch marks littered his arms, his back, love bites were forming all over his chest and neck. His lips bruised and puffy, practically aching to be kissed again. 

“You gonna be good and cum f’me, baby? Gonna gush all over my lips? Been so good for me all night, know you can give me one more, c’mon,” he taunted you, a finger circling your entrance before pushing inside.

He had stretched you out nicely on his cock earlier in the evening, the finger he had pushed inside of you barely satisfying the ache that was yearning for more, desperate to feel him inside of you again. Mixed with his tongue, though? It was indescribable, it was everything you were craving and more.

And he knew that. Knew what he could do to make you scream for him, to make you soak his face in your juices.

Which was exactly what he was doing. Pushing a second finger inside you alongside his first, his lips and tongue slurping, sucking, and licking at your clit; the whimpers were falling from your lips, your hips unable to keep still as you continuously pushed up into his face.

If there was one thing Oscar was sure of; it was that he could die happy if he got to eat you out for the rest of his life. The sounds you made, the way you gripped his hair, the way you begged him, the way you directed him on what you like, the taste of you… it was everything and more to him.

He loved everything about you, but he especially loved this. Was honoured that you trusted him enough to do this, to make you feel good day-in and day-out.

He could tell you were getting closer as he began lazily flicking his tongue, still pumping his fingers in and out of you. Your core muscles began clenching, the grip on his hair tightening as he groaned into your cunt, the slick of your pussy increasing as the sounds you were making grew louder.

Oscar helped you ride through your orgasm, your thighs tightening around his head as your entire body shook. It felt like you were flying, your third orgasm of the night rushing through your body as moans fell from your lips.

It didn’t take long for the Australian to crawl up your body, his hardened member easily slipping inside your wet core; soft groans falling from both of your lips. He had already cum once tonight, and knew he likely wouldn’t again; but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to feel your tight, wet heat wrapped around him again.

Lazily looking up at him, a soft smile was directed down to you before he was pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself on him, on his tongue as he pressed it against yours. You couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips at the realization. Something about it had you bucking up into him, into his cock that was slowly thrusting in and out of you.

“So pretty f’me, baby. So pretty all fucked out, look at you. God. Bet you’d let m’fuck you all night, wouldn’t you? You’d let me sleep with my cock inside you, y’just wanna be close to me all the time, hm? Gonna warm my cock?”

Pussy-drunk Oscar Piastri was a different type of aroused. He talked like a mad-man, like all he could talk about, all he could think about, was you.

“Mhm, course’ Osc. Would let you fill me up all night long, keep your cock inside me til’ we woke up. Let you fuck me in the morning, too,” you groaned, his legs stuttering at your words.

Bottoming out, Oscar grunted as he watched your lips open in a long-drawn out moan. His own moan followed, as he turned the two of you onto your side, maneuvering both bodies so his member remained sheathed inside you.

“God, baby. I love that we both already finished and your legs are still shaking,” he said.

Practically rolling your eyes, almost four orgasms later, what did he expect? It was hard to even attempt to keep your legs still. 

You slapped at the hand that began slithering towards your clit again. Your hips bucked as he began to rub a gentle circle on the enflamed nub, the sensitivity overtaking you as you shook your head at him.

“N’more, please. I can’t take it.”

Shushing you, Oscar pressed a kiss to the skin behind your ear.

“One more, baby. Y’can do it, promised me you’d be a good girl. One more, then w’can go to bed, hm?”

Mewling at his words, you knew you could give him one more. Could be a good girl for him, like you always were.

i started this?? and then couldn't stop?? the words were being typed before i even had the chance to comprehend them which is why this is so nasty... pls enjoy 🫶🏻

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 smut #oscar piastri smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 smut #oscar piastri imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #smut #f1 one shot #f1 fic #oscar piastri fanfic #writing #my writing

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 9. the end

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.

Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?

WC: 9.1K

Series Masterlist

A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.

Two Weeks Later

"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."

"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.

"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.

"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"

Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.

"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."

The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.

"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.

"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"

"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.

"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."

"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.

"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."

"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"

You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.

Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.

"Can I go with you?"

Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."

Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"

He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."

You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.

"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.

"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.

"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"

He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.

"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."

Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."

You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."

"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.

You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.

"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."

With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.

He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.

Maybe you planned it that way.

"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.

"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.

"Promise."

It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.

"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.

"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."

Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.

"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."

Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.

"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"

"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."

Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.

"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.

As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.

"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"

Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.

"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.

The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.

As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.

"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."

Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."

Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.

They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.

He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.

Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.

The perfect hiding spot.

He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.

Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.

He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.

When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.

The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.

"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."

It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.

They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.

"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.

"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.

"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."

Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.

"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.

To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.

"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.

"Are you hungry?"

"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.

"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.

"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."

"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"

"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."

You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?

Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.

You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.

Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.

When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.

You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"

"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."

You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.

"I missed you, too."

You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.

"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.

"I've got no fuckin' idea."

In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.

"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.

"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"

"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.

"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you said?"

He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.

"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."

You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."

His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.

"I love you, Joel."

His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.

"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."

Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.

For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.

His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.

When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.

When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.

It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.

"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.

When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.

But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."

You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.

He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.

"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.

"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?

"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.

Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.

It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.

When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.

You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.

It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.

"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.

"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."

You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.

"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.

You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.

"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.

"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."

Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.

"Leave it on."

Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.

It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.

"You okay?"

You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.

"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.

His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."

"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."

He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.

How's that feel?

Do that again.

Tell me you love me.

I love you.

Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.

His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.

"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.

"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"

"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.

Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.

You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.

After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.

The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.

You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.

"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."

He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.

"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."

He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"

You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.

"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."

"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

You chuckled when you thought about it.

"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."

"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"

"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.

"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.

"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"

"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Yes! How did-"

"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.

"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.

"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"

"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"

"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"

"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."

He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"

"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"

All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.

"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.

Three Months Later

"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."

You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.

"Maybe I'm a natural, then."

Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.

You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.

"Have any dreams lately?"

You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."

When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.

After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.

And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.

You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.

"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.

You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."

He grinned and holstered his revolver.

"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't start."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."

"I ain't flirtin' with you."

"Yes, you are!"

He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."

"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.

"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."

"Okay."

You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.

"You wanna give it a shot?"

"Pun intended?"

He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.

"Like this?"

"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."

Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.

"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.

"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."

You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.

"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.

"Here. Lemme help you."

He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.

"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."

"Her?" you teased.

He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."

"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"

"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."

"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."

"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.

Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.

"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."

You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.

For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.

"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.

"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.

You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.

When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.

"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."

His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."

You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"

He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."

You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #ikwya fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

[teddybeartoji]

im gnawing at puppy!satoru.... like pookie.... i didnt know I'd be obsessed with that.......... IM DESPERTLY WAITING FOR PUPPY!SATORU 😭 😭 😭

18+ mdni; gn!reader

puppy!satoru, who sits in front of your bed with the biggest and prettiest wide-eyes. tears pool in the corners of them, wetting his angelic eyelashes in the most beautiful way. a pretty baby blue collar hangs from his neck – it's tied to one of your desk's legs and it's the only thing that's keeping him from lunging at you. whimpers fall from his wet lips and drool dribbles down his chin; his tongue hangs from his mouth as he pants in desperation. he wants to taste, he wants to touch – but he's being punished right now.

he has been a bad pup.

a muzzle rests on his face, the straps sink into his soft flushed cheeks and you can already see the faint red marks that they're leaving on his perfect skin. you almost feel bad. almost. his hands are tied behind his back and he's completely at your mercy.

sitting down on his knees, he slightly bounces up and down on his legs just to get some relief. his tail thumps against the floor so hard that you can hear it. his fuzzy ears are bent back and he looks oh, so cute like this. they flop a little every time he raises his hips from the ground and you coo at him.

the sudden murmur makes them perk up again, his eyes growing even bigger than before. please, please, please. you grin at him from your place on your shared bed.

the thing he desires the most, the heaven that sits right between your legs, your soft thighs – it's exactly at his eye-level. this is pure torture.

he watches you touch yourself, play with yourself with slow movements; he can see the slick glistening on your sensitive skin and he'd do anything to lick you clean. he just wants to make you feel good! white tufts of hair fall in front of his eyes; they're starting to cling to his forehead from the way he's sweating. it's too hot in the room - he's not even wearing anything other than he stupid collar!

his rock hard cock bobs in the air, his balls twitching every time it hits his own lower belly. there's pre-cum smeared all over his happy trail and he's making such a big mess even without your help. your dirty pup...

another pretty little mewl tumbles from his swollen lips and he tugs harshly at his leash, but winces when it doesn't let up. a soft gasp followed by loud panting, his tail smacks against the floor. c'mon, he's being so good. he's so good for you. please, just let him taste you.

"does puppy wanna play, hm?"

his eyes roll back into his head at your sultry voice and he's nodding his head so strongly that he starts to feel a little dizzy. the collar around his neck only seems to be getting tighter and tighter, his airways getting blocked by his suffocating desire. a glob of pre-cum spills from his slit and it slides down the side of his shaft. he feels it. he imagines you wiping it off with your finger, with your mouth. he's so fucking hard.

his eyes are glued to your center – his least meal, his only solution to his unquenchable thirst. he wants to bury his nose into your crotch, he wants to breathe you in, he wants you to be the only thing on his mind.

(as if you aren't just that already.)

more. he needs more.

the silk ropes around his wrist dig into him, and even those just seem to be getting tighter by the second. he can't stop moving around, he can't sit still – he's the one that's making it worse. it hurts.

he likes it.

satoru's glassy eyes follow your free hand as it trails all over your thigh and your stomach and he can't surpress the saddest little whine that crawls up his throat. your lips stretch into a wide grin while raising your hand to play with your nipple. your other hand stays playing with yourself, filling the room with the slick delicious sounds.

you watch him lick his lips, you watch him pant, you watch him yank at the collar again – he's like a magnet, drawn to you always and forever.

he humps the air and a tear falls from the corner of his eye.

"aww... you crying, puppy?" voice far from sincere, his cock twitches. your teeth sink into your lower lip and your eyebrows furrow in a fake, mocking expression. "oh, you poor thing..."

his sharp fangs glimmer in the low lights of the room. "please..."

his tail swishes behind him, he can't help himself. he has no control over his own body.

"please what, baby?"

"taste, please, can i have a taste?"

you laugh at his neediness and you hear the little metal parts of his collar cling together. he's getting impatient now. "i don't know... can you?"

pushing yourself off your back, you crawl over to your pup. he's sitting so pretty, harboring a big aching mess between his legs. you reward him with another teasing coo as you situate yourself on the edge of the bed – close enough for him to drown in your scent but far enough to shed another miserable tear.

his eyes fall shut as he lets you properly fill his nostrils, all of his senses. a shiver runs down his spine when he feels your fingers on the side of his face and his pretty blues snap open in an instant. he's staring up at you – hungry and eager to please, ready to take whatever you'll give him—

—ready to give whatever you'll take.

you push his head back a little, tilting his head so he's getting a good look at you. in this position, you tower over him so easily and he feels like putty in your hands. combing through his hair, you scratch right behind his ear and watch him lean into your touch with hearts in your eyes.

but then you tug on his white strands, intoxicated by the smallest sounds that keep falling from him. forcing him to keep his gaze on you, you widen your legs in front of him. it's so, so hard for him to obey you, to be good, when it's right there. his lip wobbles behind the restriction and another quiet plea echoes the room.

"are you gonna behave, puppy?"

"yes." the speed at which he answers is almost ridiculous, but you can't tease him for it. not when your own stomach fills with butterflies aswell. you want him just as much.

loosing the grip in his hair, you let him slowly sink toward your center; he keeps his eyes on you, not daring to look away for even a second. the scent is so strong now, his balls twitch as pre-cum dribbles down them. just another inch, just a little more. he's right there. right fucking there.

the muzzle barely bumps against your crotch and eyes fall shut with a dramatic sigh. his ears flop down so fucking cutely; he's literally a breath away but the damn thing is in his way, it's ruining him, it's killing him. and to add to that, it seems like the collar is just about an inch too short aswell because there's a big vein running on the side of his neck – a clear sign of him not getting enough air.

but he doesn't pull away. his tail thumps, it never stopped. he bounces on his heel and tilts his head to meet your gaze again. he rests his cheek on against your thigh and you take the second to admire the mess he's made already. his skin is all flushed, from his chest and up to the tips of his ears; red markings peek from behind the straps of the muzzle – the contrast between those and his marble skin is just exceptional.

drool trickles through the miniature cage and straight down onto your thigh but you don't mind. he looks absolutely fucked out like this. you allow yourself to card through his hair again, unable to keep your hands off of him for more than two minutes and he hums at your soft touch.

"such a cute, pup, hm?"

you cradle his jaw as best as you can and hold his face to yours again before leaning down and pressing a kiss onto the muzzle, just above where his nose would be. and then another to the side of the thing. he squirms in your hold, overwhelmed by your sudden touches. he feels like he's going to melt into a puddle when you press the next one to his jaw.

he can smell your arousal. it's... so fucking good. he hums as he tries to nuzzle further into you. all he can think about is filling you up and giving you his knot. c'mon, he's been so, soooo good... he deserves it, right?

you will let him breed you, right? you're gonna let him have a taste? gonna let him pump you full? gonna let him give you his knot?

right?

+ @staryukis & @ohimsummer hiiiiiiii guuuyss.... puppyboy!satoru on my mind so i just had to tag you two too hehehehe:333

#super not proofread again i'm sorry this just popped into my head and i knew i had to get it out #the magnet reference is for u logan my dear #lmao #I LOVE BLUE BALLLSSSSS #YEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #so fun to end stuff like this ngl #hehehhehehee #puppy!gojo #angel boy #wtf mickey can write #gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #tw hybrids

[et6rnalsun]

EXCITEMENT, chris sturniolo

𝜗𝜚 pairing: chris sturn x fem! reader

warnings: it’s almost all smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up please !! stay safe ho) chris talks you thru it, spitting (?) & more i’m lazy

A/N: this was sitting in my drafts for too long bye. not edited!! & this is rushed and ugly i’m sorryyyy 🙂‍↕️ ( requests are open. masterlist. )

it was no secret that chris sturniolo was astronomically attracted to you. fucking obsessed with you and that little body of yours that you so loved showing off, seeming to purposely torture him with those exposed inches of skin he couldn't touch.

it really wasn’t.

he knew perfectly well you understood it, from the moment every time you turned around he had already been eye-fucking you for a while. often sitting manspread, his hand resting where sat his cock, that was already twitching in a desperate attempt to get some relief.

you two met for the first time at one of tara yummy's iconic parties, and the smile you offered him was definitely the start of all that pent up frustration.

he listened to your presentation with feigned interest, nodding as his gaze slid over you smoothly. his eyes focused mainly on the various tattoos you had on your arms — visible at the time due to the dress that didn't include any sleeves.

“do you have any others?" he asked suddenly, making you raise an eyebrow. so he decided to briefly run his thumb along the tattoos on your arm, giving a nod. "of these, i mean"

you hummed in response. "i also have a spine tattoo. i think it's the hardest one to see, as i rarely wear open-backed clothes." you paused, licking your lips on which the lipstick had already disappeared long ago. “whoever has the chance to see it is definitely lucky in more ways than one” a smirk curled at the sides of your mouth.

his throat went dry. he had immediately taken your hint.

“cool”

“mhm”

and before the end of the night he made sure he had your instagram, and the stain from your lipstick — which you had just put back on, on his cheek.

you saw each other again a couple of weeks after the party, driving to his house where he lives with his brothers, who weren't there at the time.

you undoubtedly continued to tease him the whole time, and then pretended nothing happened. you decided to put on a movie, and as you reached for the remote you placed your hand on his thigh — almost touching his crotch. you kept shifting your body on the couch, brushing against his over and over again. and your choice of clothes was more revealing than it should have been.

chris felt like he was going to explode. his cock at that point was obviously hard as he continued to sigh and bite the inside of his cheek nervously. he wouldn't last long.

and in fact, that's why you now found yourself in a particular situation.

your ass up while your arms were a support for your head. eyes half closed, breathing quickened with excitement. his eyes ran down your entire figure, stopping several times on your spine tattoo which he had already made sure to run his tongue over — just how he dreamed of.

chris was fisting his precum dripping cock into his hand, a moan escaped his lips as he dropped a thick string of spit onto his fat tip. “fuck” he murmured, spreading the sticky thing along his shaft.

while he was doing it, he started guiding his eager tip into your tight hole, without the slightest preparation. he gritted his teeth at the feeling of your warm walls squeezing him so deliciously. “fuck” he repeated, while you let out a pained whimper, gritting your teeth. "chris, i-”

it hurts. like hell. he continued to ease himself inside you, your eyes closing as your fingers gripped the fabric of the couch tightly. "my god"

chris’s eyes watched carefully as your body reacted, your back arched slightly. “sh, it’s okay” he murmured, pushing himself all the way into you, stretching you out completely. "you can take it, i'll make you feel - shit - so fucking good" he soothes, trying to find a stable rhythm as he bit his lip at those squishy sounds. “don’t you wanna feel good, mhm?”

“i can’t-” a rough thrust stopped you, making you moan loudly. his hand was flattening your cheek into the sofa cushion, while the other was lightly pushing your lower back. “yes you can. look at you, doll” he threw his head back, deliberately picking up the pace as his hips slammed hard against your ass.

“you feel so damn good” he moaned again, his thrusts making you see stars before your watery eyes. "so perfect"

as you get used to him, drool was pooling at the side of your mouth as you were rocked back and forth at a crazy speed. you sobbed and continued to moan his name incoherently.

“chris, chris- god” you arched your back more, starting to feel close. “i’m gonna cum - please - let me cum” you tried to look back at him, but his hand was harshly stopping you.

“yeah? is that so?” chris said between heavy breaths, his lips parted. "you wanna cum that bad?”

“please” you were barely registering his words as you cried out begs, your body shaking at the impact of his thrusts that felt unstoppable.

then his hand moved down to rub against your clit, causing you to let out yet another surprised moan. the slick of your cum was already smearing onto his pelvic bone, and he felt his orgasm coming right alongside yours.

his thrusts became hard and slow, and you had placed a hand on his wrist, preventing him from pulling out as he too reached his peak, his thick cum filling you up perfectly to the brim. “fuck, yes” before eventually pulling out, and watching as the milky substance seeped out.

you were completely destroyed, your body collapsed onto the couch. he did the same, but not before giving you a hard slap on your ass. "such a good girl for me"

likes & reblogs are highly appreciated.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #fem reader #smut #+18 content #chris sturniolo x reader

[moechies]

bully gojo zzZ

super mean bully gojo who makes fun of you for not giving good head :( he knows you’re not experienced, and you really are trying your best to please him but it never pays off!

he’s constantly teasing you over and over for doing such a poor job, but never lets you by before he has you on knees sloppily drooling all over his stupidly big dick. you just don’t get it.

“such a sloppy mouth. ‘s a shame you don’t know how t’ use it.” he sighs.

the tip of his flushed cock lays flatly against your tongue, your drool and spit messily dripping all over the place, over his shaft and onto his hand. his thumb lays besides his cock inside your mouth, pressing on your tongue. he pays your mess no mind, fully attentive to how you plan to take him this time around.

your doe eyes come up to meet his, a silent cry for him to help. his stares back, his gaze piercing into your skin, shutting your eyes quickly to avoid his confrontation.

“suck it, baby. i shouldn’t need t’tell you that.” he mumbles firmly.

your fat lips wrap come to wrap around his sloppy cock head, only forcing yourself down halfway before it elicits a loud gag. you squeeze your eyes tight to prevent the tears pricking at your eyes from falling, attempting to pull yourself off per usual, but this time you’re stopped by a harsh hand behind your head.

“stop running. y’r gonna have to take it all at some point, dumb brat. might as well have it be this time, hm?”

you open your eyes in terror, and he only chuckles. he allows you to calm yourself, shallow but gentle thrusts allowing you to get used to the feeling.

he loathed having to treat you like a porcelain doll, but he knows that would’ve been broken long ago if he didn’t handle you so tenderly. and he can’t have that happening.

“loosen your throat.”

you squeeze your eyes tight, waiting for the moment he attempts to purse himself deeper in your throat. it burns, the way his mere girth is able to stretch all of you to impeccable lengths. the corners of your lips strain, spluttering as he holds your head in place and nudges his hips further into mouth.

you can’t help but hiccup around him, your throat convulsing perfectly to his liking.

“‘s too tight..” he whines, still mindlessly attempting to shove your mouth down on him completely.

“i guess that jus’ means we need t’do this more often.”

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo jjk #satoru gojo #gojo smut #jjk gojo #drabbles ⋆⑅˚₊

[faetreides]

patrick probably whines when you bounce on his cock.

cw: 18+ mdni, au of the ending where patrick wins (no infidelity btw, he and tashi never did anything), implied drug use, car sex mention, riding, afab reader, reader is naked/patrick is fully clothed, lowkey gross & nasty, breeding kink (i’m ovulating rn), unprotected p in v sex, slight degradation, unedited

You’re just so proud of your boyfriend, you can’t help but jump his bones immediately. You see Patrick running towards after his match, and you race to vault yourself into his arms. He laughs wholeheartedly and spins you around, partly happy because you seem to be so happy for him. He’s still in a state of shock, to be honest. Everything was leading up to Art cementing his place in his career, but Patrick had managed to beat him in the end. No one could believe it, Patrick’s hope had been almost completely gone by that point. But he did it, and maybe now he can leave behind the needles and scrimping pennies.

He still hasn’t processed anything, but your lips and giggles are too good to ignore. You gasp as he picks you up by gripping onto your thighs and hoisting your legs around his waist. You rock your clothed core against his abs for a second, in dire need of a little friction. Patrick makes the kiss messy, pushing more of his spit into the intense lip locking. He flicks away the string of saliva that connects your lips when he ducks back to look at you. You grin, eyes wide and cheeks blazing with heat. It’s a stupid decision, but you throw your body weight around to get Patrick to fall onto the bed with you.

“Fuck!” He shouts, darting his hands around the back of your head and digging his knees into the mattress so he doesn’t fall out. “Couldn’t have waited a little bit, are you a greedy whore all of a sudden?”

You shrug, “Maybe, but you’d like it if I was. Now come here, we have to celebrate.”

With that, you leg your legs fall open and put on your most convincing pout, beckoning your boyfriend to get a move on already. Seeing him sweat in those slutty shorts and hearing him grunt whenever he hit the ball really gets you going, something that you didn’t think was possible until you got an athlete boyfriend. It’s a competition to find out who can be the most insanely horny in the relationship at this point, and if Patrick ever got a hold of your diary, he’d agree that you win by a landslide.

Patrick latches onto your shoulders and spins to lie flat on his back with you on top of him. You adjust your position, jostling your hips until you’re positioned right over his hard bulge. You’re too busy getting lost in a flurry of clothes as you both kind of awkwardly undress on the bed, but eventually his pants are pulled down enough for his cock to spring free while you’re fully naked. You look like a porn star to him, teasingly swiveling your hips in the most seductive way possible.

He smirks and throws his arms behind his head, “I thought you were supposed to be my prize, what happened to making me feel like a winner?”

You bite you rlip, digging your nails into his pecs, “It’s not my fault you’re too keyed up to not cum immediately, savoring this is possible, you know?”

Patrick rolls his eyes and smiles, not picking a fight with you on that. Sometimes you like to get yourself worked up too, with his thick cock gliding in between your folds and mixing your juices together.

You lift your ass and throw a certain look towards him, and he tries not to be too smug as he wraps a large hand around the base of his hard cock. He holds the rigid length upright so all you have to do is hover over it and plop yourself right down on it. He doesn’t pump himself while he waits, he wanted to fuck before the match but you wouldn’t let him. You said it’d be better for him to have all this energy stored up.

You get restless and start to sink down on his cock, the stretch always takes some breath out of you but you were the one that decided to wait until now. Once he’s bottomed out, you’ve given up on teasing him until he breaks you entirely. You lift your hips until the tip of his dick catches on your hole and then slam down, starting off with a realsitically unattainable fast pace.

His fingers dig into the fat of your bouncing ass cheeks, “You’re inflating my ego too much, making me feel like a big shot getting fresh pussy in his hotel room.”

You moan, keeping eye contact as you fuck him into the mattress, “You- You are a big shot, babe. Shit- Just lie back and relax…”

The smell permeating in the room is already so pungent. Patrick’s natural musk intertwining with your own, if anyone else walked in they might faint, but to you two, you could cum from the scent of your sex by now. Being the same kind of freak in that regard brought you both so much closer if anything. You grind your pubes down against his, clenching on his dick on purpose. The friction is delicious for your clit, so you do it again.

He throws his head back, reaching up to curl one of his hands around your throat as you ride him, “Uh huh, that’s my dirty slut, so wet and tight for me.”

His words trail off into a squeaky whine as you speed up, truthfully losing stamina a bit but still determined to celebrate your boyfriend properly. You lean to press your sweaty tits right up against his own, and you whisper in his ear about this being a repeating occurrence.

“Maybe someday we’ll have a baby to put to bed first before we can do this, get them to wave at you from the stands and then pass them off to you when we’d see you after you win.” You lick the shell of his ear as you speed up, ignoring the embarrassing wet smacks of your slick ass against his hip bone. “Wouldn’t it be cute, me with a chubby baby on my hip that looks like you and another one already in my belly?”

“You’re a fuckin’ demon, i swear.” Patrick moans, giving you little whines here and there when you seem to really hit the spot. “Yeah, it’d be cute.”

What better way to celebrate than by having a baby?

He pulls you down by your neck to french kiss you, his tongue twisting around yours. The sheets are soaked by now and you don’t want to even imagine what the staff who have to clean his room will find. Random bits of fluid and the stench of sex heavy in the air, you’ll have to remember to leave some cash for a tip to ease your conscience.

You tighten your walls around him in short bursts until he’s clawing at your ass and smacking it extremely hard as he cums inside you. The stinging is a pleasant catalyst for your own orgasm soon after. You can’t wait to see how dirty you get his car seats.

#challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig challengers #josh o'connor #josh o connor #challengers x reader #challengers x you #challengers smut #josh o’connor x reader #josh o’connor x you #patrick zweig x you #challengers 2024 #challengers movie #challengers film #challengers fic #challengers fanfiction #josh o connor x reader #josh o connor x you #josh o’connor challengers #josh o connor challengers

[virgofleur]

summer heat, so sweet

fem!reader x best friend!eddie munson

story summary: a lazy, hot summer day and a first kiss or two (maybe three).

tags: best friends to lovers, tooth aching fluff, sweet eddie munson, pet names, pining, flirting, first kiss. no smut but a tad suggestive, so 18+ only please.

w/c: 2.2k(ish)

~♡~

Eddie was only six-years-old when he fell in love with you.

It was the summer, and you had just moved into the trailer park, all starry-eyed with that childish wonder, face glowing with a toothless, over-stretched smile once you caught sight of him digging a hole in the ground. You waved at him, hand flapping about, but he quickly shied away, retreating into his uncle’s trailer for safety and to scrub away the dirt under his fingernails and the pinky blush staining his cheeks.

Needless to say, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

Which was why he decided it was best if he never left his trailer again.

It was only after a week of self-detainment and too many Mountain Dews Wayne had thrown Eddie outside and locked the door. Not out of malice, of course. He loved his nephew. But all that pent up energy and sugar rushing through his veins had made Eddie wild. A firework exploding. He needed some peace and quiet, just for a little while.

“Holler if you need anything,” Wayne said, flicking his cigarette and patting Eddie on the back. “There’s water for ya on the porch.”

Eddie nodded, pouting. “Okay.”

“I’ll come get you for lunch. Be good.”

“Can you make PB&J’s?” Eddie asked.

Wayne smiled and ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Whatever you want.”

“I want two of ‘em with barbecue chips. And, and, some Dew—”

“No,” Wayne protested, but not unkindly. “No more Dew. Water only. Lord knows you’ve had enough to turn your blood into sugar. Now go play.”

Eddie swallowed. What did that mean? That he had sugar for blood? Was that even possible? Before he could ask, Wayne was closing the door, leaving Eddie alone to bask in the summer sun and wonder if his blood tasted as sweet as Mountain Dew. He hoped it did, cause that would be sick.

He’d set up shop behind the trailer, deciding he was going to build a castle out of whatever twigs and leaves he found lying around. Normally, he’d use his slingshot and shoot at some cans and bottles, but after he accidentally launched a rock into the window, shattering the glass, Wayne confiscated it. Which was lame, duh, but if Eddie was good enough, he’d get it back, and it didn’t take much for Wayne to cave.

Eddie began stabbing a few sticks into the ground, thankful it was soft enough from the day’s previous rain, when he heard a voice, small and sweet, slither up behind him. He startled and whipped around to see you standing there, clad in denim skimmer shorts, a t-shirt embroidered with a butterfly, and jelly shoes, your smile as bright as the sun.

“Hi!” you chirped.

Eddie blinked. Silent.

You took a step forward, trying to peer over his shoulder. Curious. “Whatcha doing?”

Eddie blinked again, assessing you like you were some tiny, unidentifiable insect. “B-building a castle.”

“Cool! Do you want help?”

"Okay."

And that’s how you and Eddie came to be. It had been fifteen years since that day, and here you were now. Stretched out beside him on his bed in your sundress, sucking on the remnants of your popsicle, book propped on your stomach, hair clinging to the sweat on your forehead, lips glossy and stained blue from your icy treat, a sight for sore eyes. Even to this day, the prettiest girl Eddie had ever seen. His best friend. His everything.

If only you knew how much he loved you. Then maybe things wouldn’t be so torturous.

“S’fucking hot,” he said, tossing his half-torn D&D notebook. Between the sweltering summer heat and the way your hip was searing against his, it was hard to focus on anything else. Hawkins had reached a record high, this heatwave showing no signs of letting up. The two of you had made plans to go down to Lovers Lake to cool off, but given how hot it was, the lake was more like a swamp, and the pool was closed.

Eddie’s trailer was the next best thing. The sun wasn’t as brutal as it was in yours, the porch ceiling acting as a barrier and preventing the sun’s rays from penetrating inside. Unfortunately, his air conditioner was on the fritz, and the fan you brought over only stirred the hot air around the room, but it was better than nothing.

You finished off your popsicle and tossed the stick onto Eddie’s nightstand along with your book. You turned to look at him, your cheek smushed against your shoulder, eyes soft, blue-stained lips poised with a question.

God, he could kiss you right now. It would be so easy. All he would have to do was lean over a few inches and press his lips to yours. He imagined them to be soft. Sticky sweet, like your popsicle. He imagined you’d like it gentle and the noises you would make as he split the seam of your lips open with his tongue. He’d hold you close, his arms a protective cage around you, fingers slipping beneath your dress and over the swell of your ass, giving it a playful squeeze before tracing the ridges of your spine, telling you how beautiful you are between kisses. You’d shiver against him. Tangle your fingers in his hair and tug in a silent plea for more. And, of course, Eddie would oblige. (Shit, he’d give you anything you wanted. He’d give you the fucking moon and the stars if he could). He’d bite your lip, suckle on it like the sweetest, candied berry before leaving a trail of love along your jaw and to your pulse point, where he would tattoo you with a wine colored bruise. Maybe two wine colored bruises if you let him, and in his fantasy, you did.

In his fantasy, you were his.

“You ever feel like you’re not a real person?”

“What?” Eddie said, blinking out of his daydream. He was suddenly very, very hot. Even more so than before.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not a real person?” you repeated with a bit more vigor. You wiggled your fingers and made a fist before flexing your hand. “Cause sometimes it feels like I’m a ghost. Like I exist, but in an alternate dimension or something.”

Eddie laughed softly and without judgment. “I think the heats getting to your head, sweetheart.”

You pouted, pushing his shoulder. “I’m serious, Ed’s! S’really weird. Sometimes I wonder if any of this is even real. If you’re real. If I’m even real.”

Eddie grew thoughtful. Reflective. Your words planted themselves like seeds in a garden, sprouting and blooming. He understood what you meant. Understood you completely. That feeling of being detached from yourself—mind, body, and soul—as if you’re living in a dream. Eddie was no expert. He wanted to comfort you, but the words just seemed to escape him, falling into a dark abyss.

He needed to get you out of your head, the place you resided the most, and though he never had the perfect remedy for these situations, he knew of at least one way to make you feel better, even if it was only temporary.

“Hm, there’s one way to test if you’re real or not.”

“How?” you asked, eyes wide and hopeful as your fingers came to latch onto the collar of his shirt. You were so close to him, and it was even more suffocating than the heat.

He smiled something wicked. Your eyes went wide, but not in the way they had before. In the way that knew Eddie was about to do something evil.

And like a hawk hunting its prey, Eddie swooped in.

“Eddie!” you squealed, giggling as he blew raspberries against your cheek. Your clammy hands cradled his face and you half-heartedly tried to pry him off. You squirmed, limbs tangling, your laughter vibrating through his body as his hands grew brave and his fingers began to skate and tickle across your stomach. It was childish, Eddie knew that, but what a wonderful thing it was to make you laugh. That was his favorite sound. Golden and sunny. Melting his heart into a puddle of goo.

He stopped, resting his forehead against yours, eyes flickering across your face. “I don’t know. I think you’re pretty real to me.”

You rolled your eyes, still giggling despite your feigned exasperation. “Dork.”

Eddie smiled. His lips were salty, but you looked sweeter than ever. “What about me? Am I real?”

There was a breath of silence as your hand came to his face, brushing back his dampened bangs to examine him. “God,” you said, a soft gasp escaping you. “Your forehead is massive.”

Eddie laughed and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. “You’re such a dick.”

“I’m just teasing, Ed’s,” you said softly, almost apologetically. Which shocked him because normally you’d have something witty to say. You’d never back down from a good jest. Instead, you were staring up at him, pensive, almost conflicting. Your hands came back to cradle his face, thumb gently pressing into the soft muscle of his cheek. It made his chest ache.

“Sweetheart—”

The rest of his words were lost when you kissed him.

Eddie’s heart stopped.

You kissed him.

Close-lipped, a chaste peck and hot all the same, made worse by the lovely little noise you made when your hips bumped into his. His arms were shaking as he tried to hold himself up, resolute in being a gentleman as his head began spinning, letting you take the lead. Because holy shit, you were kissing him. You were kissing him and his brain was short-circuiting and his heart was rabbiting in his chest and he couldn’t taste you the way he wanted to, but there was an undercurrent of sugar and salt that clung to his lips and he was already addicted and royally fucked.

He hummed, and that was what shook you back to reality, separating with a dry click and a rueful look pinching your face.

You flushed bright red, panting. You began to trip over your words. "I, I'm, I'm sorry. I don't know why—"

"Shhhh," Eddie soothed, nudging your nose with his. "It's okay. It's okay..."

Your mouth was a flower and he was the bee. He stung you sweetly and his lips moved like honey, slow, savoring you. You didn't protest, your body seeking him out and pulling him closer until his full weight was pressing you into the bed. He was gentle with you, a tenderness only reserved for you, and you shivered just like he imagined when his tongue split you open like a fig, lapping at your sweetness and resting his hand against your chest, feeling the frantic beat of your heart beneath his palm. Memorizing it. You let out a heady sigh and he became dizzy with it.

There was too much heat trapped between your bodies, sweat pooling between your chests, but you only pulled him closer, fingers scratching his scalp, mouths and tongues speaking a language only the two of you could understand. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth and nipped. You moaned in tandem and you returned the sentiment and Eddie couldn't help but smile against your lips, breaking the kiss.

"How 'bout now? Is this real enough for you?" he whispered, brushing his lips against yours.

You swallowed, eyes wild. "Yeah. Oh my god, yeah."

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Eddie admitted, head still soaring above the clouds.

"Yeah?" you asked, breathless.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Fucking crazy about you. Always have been."

Your lips curled into a big smile. The same one he fell in love with fifteen years ago. "I'm crazy about you too, Eddie."

Eddie laughed under his breath. He couldn't believe this was happening. "We're gonna need to talk about this, huh?"

“Only if you promise to kiss me again.”

Eddie’s hand smoothed up the column of your throat, his fingers resting against your pulse point as his thumb made gentle strokes that had you shivering, skin hot. “Bribing me now, are we?”

“If I were bribing you, I’d at least offer to show you my tits.”

The cool guy attitude Eddie was putting quickly dissolved and he was choking on his words like he was a fumbling virgin all over again. “Christ. You can’t just say shit like that to me, baby. Are you trying to kill me?”

You giggled. Oh, you were evil. “Don’t be coy, Edward. I know you think about what they look like. I see you staring and—”

Before you could say anything more to embarrass him, he swooped down and captured your lips in his. A sealing of your fate. It was easy as breathing, kissing you, and he would be stupid if he was gonna pass up the opportunity to steal your lips and make them his. To love them the way he loved you.

When he woefully pulled away, your eyes fluttered open, cheeks singed and loveburnt. The blue popsicle stain had been kissed away and your chest heaved and bumped into his as you took in a deep breath. Safe to say, you were a goner.

“You were saying?” Eddie said with a teasing lilt, lips tingling with the taste of you.

You swallowed roughly, hands tucking themselves behind his neck. “Kiss me like that again and we’ll never leave this room.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”

Heat pooled in Eddie’s stomach when you brought your mouth to his ear, voice dulcet and sinful as you whispered: “Don't worry, I’ll make it worth your while, pretty boy.”

-

thanks for reading xx

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #best friend eddie munson

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

lovely weather for a bonfire tonight!! congrats on 5k you beautiful beautiful writer 🫶🏼🫶🏼

can i please get forced proximity with remus 🤭

Thanks for requesting gorgeous!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 874 words

You look up at the sound of movement in the stacks, and you groan when you connect the dots. 

“You’re joking.” 

Remus lifts his brows as slides into the seat across from you, the scar next to his eye stretching with the movement. “You look surprised to see me.” 

“Slughorn told me he’d ‘connect me’ with a tutor.” You roll your eyes, dragging your thumb and forefinger over the feather of your quill so it ruffles. “He didn’t tell me it’d be one of Gryffindor’s golden boys.” 

“He might have suspected you wouldn’t accept the help.” You scoff but don’t deny it, and Remus starts taking books out of his bag, one amber eye on you. “I’m a bit surprised you need tutoring, to be honest.” 

“I barely do,” you say, hating how petulant the lie sounds as soon as it’s out of your mouth. “I just like to stay on top of things. Don’t want to fall behind.” 

He hums, a soft curl to his bottom lip as he sets his books down on the wooden table. “Suppose that’s how you’ve always stayed right on my heels.” 

“I’m going to pass you in charms this year,” you reply reflexively. Then heat rises to your face, because you very well might, but Remus will likely pass you in potions. Though the two of you have been nearly neck-and-neck for marks since you got to Hogwarts, you’ve always been better than him in potions, at least until now. 

Remus must see the shift in your mood. His posture changes, and you hate the gentleness of his tone when he says, “You probably will. So, what are we working on?” 

You huff out a breath. “Um, I’m supposed to be brewing an antidote to this poison Slughorn gave me.” 

“Okay, and what’s the problem?”

You glare at him, but Remus only looks at you steadily. “I don’t know what the poison is, much less how to find the antidote. I’ve memorized every poison in our textbook, and it doesn’t seem like any of them.” 

“It may not be in the book,” he says, voice lower and far less sharp than yours. “Do you have it with you?” 

You dig in your bag, retrieving the small vial of liquid. It’s clear but thick, a sludge that sticks to the edges of the glass when you try to swirl it. Remus takes it from you. 

“It’s not about knowing what the poison is so much as what’s in it.” He removes the stopper, sniffing tentatively at the semi-liquid stuff inside. “Once you can figure out some of the key ingredients, you can use other ingredients to nullify those in your antidote.” He holds it out a few inches from your nose. “Smell.” 

You lean directly over it and breathe in, and instantly, instinctively, recoil back into your seat. You feel your face scrunch up, throat convulsing in a gag. 

“Fuck,” you choke out, “is that how it kills you?” 

Remus chuckles, and the sound tickles down your spine like a grazing touch. 

“You did that on purpose,” you accuse. 

“It wasn’t on purpose, but it was entertaining.” 

“Dick.” 

He grins. It’s an effort not to return it. “How did it smell?” 

“Rank. As if you don’t know.” 

Remus’ grin worsens. “I mean what did it smell like, love.” 

“Oh.” You ignore the way your heart stutters at the endearment, slipped in at the end of his statement like it’s automatic. “Um, kinda like piss? But mustier.” 

“Good.” Your tutor’s voice is coaxing. He leans his elbows on the table, his eyes on yours. “What common ingredient in poisons does that remind you of?” 

The realization must show on your face, because Remus’ lips twist upwards before you even speak. “Hemlock,” you breathe. 

“There you are,” he says, nearly as quietly. “And what is the easiest ingredient to counteract hemlock with?” 

“Bezoar.” You tilt your head back, covering your face with your hands. Remus laughs again, and you hear him stoppering the vial. “I can’t believe I’ve spent all week agonizing over this, and it was that simple. I just need to make a potion with bezoar?” 

“And preferably a few other things to counteract the less fatal side effects, but yeah.” You lower your hands and Remus is giving you a knowing look, almost proud, as he passes you back the vial. “See, you managed it.” 

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. 

“I think you’re getting too in your head about needing to memorize everything,” he says, propping his chin on a hand. And he looks nice like this. Boyish, like someone you could honestly enjoy talking to. His hair pushes up above his ear. “You’re a hard worker, but you need to give yourself some credit for your intuition, too. You knew what the poison was once you let yourself think about it, you were just too focused on the facts to get there without help.” 

“You shouldn’t be telling me this.” You feel a smile tugging at your lips. “I’m just going to use the knowledge to beat you out in potions and everything else, you know. Being nice to me doesn’t get you a free pass.” 

Remus’ eyes crackle with challenge. “Wouldn’t expect any different.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[tadpolesonalgae]

The Burn Marks of Possession

Dark!Azriel x reader

a/n: heads up, reader’s slightly obsessive, and Az is slightly on the dark side. Not as dark as usual but better safe than sorry with things like this :) I also haven’t written in a while so this is a vague practice attempt at getting back into things 🫠

warnings: kind of dark!azriel, smut, arguably dubcon due to reader’s mental state, sadism, overstim, light breeding kink, implied somnophilia

Word count: 3,407

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It’s perplexing, when it begins shifting. Building again after years of managing to be suppressed. Coming to a simmer, gently bubbling while it remains constrained.

A heavy sigh falls from your lips, secondary to the unhelpful tremor in the tips of your fingers, shaking your knuckles. The boiling water spills over the lip of the cup, dripping over your thumb, and you wonder if it burns the same.

You remain quiet, reaching for the hand towel to dry the liquid, before putting it away again, stirring the cup absently as the metal begins heating, steam warming then stinging at your fingers.

Azriel

How your jaw clenches at the first syllable of his name, teeth grinding as if with frustration. How your tongue caresses the backs of your teeth upon the second, grazing the inside slope of the roof of your mouth. A slow trace of a feather-light touch, as if to soothe rise of tension.

Azriel

Azriel

Azriel

If you repeat it enough, you can remove the stress of his first part, softening the pronunciation until it’s no more than swallowing a light touch. A suggested whisper as it drips from your tongue.

A snake would say it better. With a friendly flicker in between, rolling the letters from its serpentine mouth. You wonder where he is.

It’s easy to picture him in your kitchen, lazing at the coffee table, sprawled across a chair, while watching you with slitted pupils, the corners of his mouth too sharp for a smile.

Tension in your body abates, muscles loosening as that familiar spread of warmth courses down your arms, easing in your chest—like inebriation has just been pushed into your bloodstream, feeling woozy and soft, lips curving a little. Fingers slide through the roughened handle of your mug absently, allowing the steam to rise and brush your mouth, the tip of your nose, feeling how his shadows do whenever they brush against your skin.

You feel cold and clammy as you lower it. Already missing its heat.

The sun has long since been swallowed by the night, removed from the sky to allow reprieve to morality. Nobody can always be perfect—it’s good to have moments to relax. When secrets can be committed.

The latch of your front door clicks, and you smile, taking another drink from your cup, settling back into its boiling heat as the liquid scalds your throat on the way down, swiftly spreading throughout your body, heating your fingertips.

“If I’d known you were coming, I’d have made another cup,” you murmur slowly, eyes closed as you listen to his approach. The almost inaudible rasp of shadow, the whisper of feet over carpet. Roughened hands slide softly around your ribs, solid muscle gathering at your back, gently bringing himself into you. Tucking you beneath his chin as shadows swirl and circle peacefully.

“You knew I was coming,” he replies lowly, feeling the slope of your shoulders, how your body becomes smaller as breath leaves your lips, exhaled from your lungs.

You’re glad he’s here again, reassured of his presence. You spend so much time together that the hours apart stretch painfully, like limbs being steadily plied from a torso over a matter of days, until at last they pop out, sockets splitting. It’s a warning you should know how to recognise by now, but every low of his absence encourages the high of his return, the sweet flutter of your pulse, the hitch in your breathing as his fingers stroke across the skin of your collarbones placatingly.

“At some point,” you agree quietly, shifting in his arms, revelling in the rasp of his clothes against yours, the counter top now pressing just shy of the base of your spine, his hands shifting to brace on the surface at your back. “Where were you?” You ask lightly, eyes scanning him attentively. He doesn’t doubt that if he could feel the abrasion of your gaze, his skin would be left slightly raw.

His shadows darken with pleasure.

“Out,” he murmurs. “Away.”

You frown at the answer, lips shifting with displeasure at the vagueness. “Where out?”

“Does it matter?” He asks coyly, hazel eyes gleaming as he peers down at you, kept between his arms. “I’m back now.”

You tilt your head, brows slightly narrowed causing the hairs at the nape of his neck to rise. He likes it when your curiosity is blatant. When you can’t manage to hide to your intrigue.

“You were doing something for the court?” You push, causing him to smile faintly. He doubts you’re even aware of your refusal to apply names to other people, as if it’ll ruin the purity of the moment.

The smile has frustration growing in the pit of your stomach, irritated by his lack of answer.

“You can tell me,” you urge lowly, still cupping the scalding mug of tea. “If it ever strains on you, too. You can always talk to me about it.” Does he not want to tell you about it? Is it private? Is there some reason he can’t tell you?

His smile widens a little, head dipping down so he can peer at you closer, inky strands of hair flopping over your brow as his nose brushes your own. “It’s not for your ears,” he answers lowly, that faint smile still on his lips, anger growing back into that simmer over his lack of sincerity.

“I want to know,” you reply, brows dipping down as you grip the mug tighter. “Come on, Az. You always do this.”

“Do what?” He replies, a spark in his eyes.

“This,” you snap, jerking your chin at him sharply. “Either answer or don’t, but stop playing games.”

“But you’re so enjoyable to tease,” he chuckles roughly, and you’re aware of how his shadows are stroking against your legs. Slow, lulling strokes as they wrap around the curve of your calves, over the bump of your knees, skimming the exposed skin just above them. He’s closer than he was before.

Your jaw tightens, the familiar rise of aggression burning your insides, the desire to lash out and maim over something so small. For making you so volatile. Turning the spiked pulse of your blood from peace to destruction so swiftly, like whiplash.

He’s so attentive, you’re certain he knows your frustration, how you crave his company, desperate for him to confide in you like you do with him. And yet he’s blatantly ignoring it—it’s cruel. Out of character for him, who’s usually so ready to listen, so perfect at providing comfort, seeming to understand you effortlessly. Why then, does he insist on pretending otherwise. Does he just not care any more? Does he not care that he’s your favourite? Does his world no longer revolve around you?

His smile softens as he feels the heat warming your cheeks, shadows reporting the grip you have on the ceramic mug. The dilation of your pupils.

“I’m here now,” he murmurs, liking how your breath hitches as his palm presses lightly against your spine, encouraging you to press into him. “You know I’ll always come back. That’s all that matters isn’t it?”

You’re silent, mouth set in a sullen line, eyes dark and resentful as they glare up at him. All that emotion. All for him.

Satisfaction settles deep in his chest, shadows flicking higher in reward.

He likes how malleable you are—for his hands only.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes lowly, a hint of amusement in his eyes as they skate across your own. “I’ll stop.”

His palm slides lower, making the slow descent over the curve at the base of your spine, hazel eyes practically pinning you to the ground, keeping you from moving.

Your pulse flutters, wanting to bite at his lip, lips that are dipping lower, your breath shallowing as he draws nearer…nearer… The tremor in your fingers becomes more pronounced as his mouth slants softly against your own, and you’re unable to help yourself as your teeth settle against him, eyes locking as you drag across his lower lip slowly. He doesn’t pull away, just watches you idly, as if interested in what you’ll do next.

Why didn’t he want to tell you where he’d gone?

You pull away, mouth feeling cold, before returning quickly, seeking the heat of his lips to warm you again, to burn like the scalding liquid in your mug. A pleased noise drags roughly from the back of his throat, rumbling in his chest, and his hand slides lower, settling over your rear, shadows wrapping around your thighs.

You inhale deeply, pulling his scent into your lungs. Committing him to memory—the slight roughness of leather that mixes with his scent, the dampness of the outdoors clinging to the strands of his hair. The cruel softness of his mouth as it presses deeper, wanting more from you, wanting to have more, to take more as he plies you open, swiping over the tingling skin of your tongue, numb from the burn of tea.

Azriel groans lowly, hands lifting you to sit upon the counter, moving you without asking so he can step between your already open thighs, shadows playing curiously beneath the cover of your skirts, grazing the soft skin of your hips, the pronounced curve of your stomach now you’re sitting.

Shakily, you bring your arms to wrap over his shoulders, keeping careful hold of the mug, heat biting into your fingers.

He pulls away, lips looking bitten and slightly raw where your canines have dragged over him, reddened from abrasion.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks lowly, voice rough and gravelly.

Both of you know the question is insincere, a purely superficial ask, inquired out of courtesy rather than genuine concern. This isn’t something either of you are in a place to stop. Neither of you want it to stop.

“Maybe,” you answer anyway, nails scraping against the nape of his neck. “Do you want it?” Do you want me? “Yes.”

Your insides flutter, but you…

Your brow narrows, hearing the doubt in your mind. Something holding you back from the male before you. “Where were you earlier?” You ask quietly, intently.

He blinks slowly, shadows pausing their exploration at the question, his lips curving.

Frustration ignites beneath your skin, and the mug slants in your hand.

He snarls in pain, hands gripping you with such force you think he might crack something as the scalding liquid streams down his back, hitting the nape of his neck and dripping over his shoulders into your lap. You slow the pour, righting the mug again as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his arms like iron as he keeps you crushed against his front, gripping onto you desperately, furiously, obsessively. Finger biting into the tendon at the top of your spine painfully, breath catching in your lungs as your legs wrap around him.

His shadows hiss and whisper viciously, tightening brutally around the tops of your thighs, squeezing your waist like a serpent set on swallowing its prey whole.

Azriel pulls back, fury and hunger darkening his hazel eyes as they lock with your own, cheeks flushed with heat, tension abating now he’s understanding what he subjected you to in denying your question. He opens his mouth to speak, and you pour the rest of the mug down his back.

His eyes go wide, skin paling a little with fury, then his brow is narrowing, eyes squeezed shut as his head dips, hanging as he pants heavily, hand leaving your back to settle over your thigh, biting at the soft and supple flesh in a way he knows will bruise deliciously.

The liquid splashes when it drips onto the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, the only noise aside from his heavy breathing, and you wait from him to open his eyes again, at last feeling satisfied, justified now the unpleasant emotion has been expelled.

Slowly, he raises his head, meeting your heated gaze, his tan skin warm and flushed, lips parted invitingly as he evens out his breathing. “Happy now?” He breathes lowly, raggedly, so close you can feel each syllable over your mouth. So close to where he needs to be right now—all it would take is a slight incline of your head and your lips would meet again.

Teeth prod at your lower lip as his shadows at last pry the empty mug from your hands, feeling shy and warm all over, head dipping a little with the intensity he’s watching you with. Shy at having acted so boldly, so brazenly before him. Like walking past him in little more than your underwear and expecting not to get grabbed.

“Answer me, pretty thing,” he breathes, gripping your jaw lightly to tilt your head.

You nod, toes curling as one hand threads through his hair, damp at the ends, the other tracing down his back, making small, make-believe patterns. “I’m happy now.”

————

He’s had you bent over the table so long your bones hurt, thighs aching from the sharp angle, on your tippy-toes to find some kind of support, though the cotton of your socks keeps slipping over the smoothness of the tiles, making it difficult.

That’s no doubt something he intended, though.

You babble, tears wet on the wooden surface of the table, lips gleaming with saliva and…something else…

His scarred hand wraps beneath your throat as he leans over, pressing to your back as he pries you from the table, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Ready?” He taunts lowly, the chuckle rasping from his chest as you feel the bare heat of him between your legs, thighs sticky with steadily drying release, gleaming with swiftly refreshening arousal.

You try to respond, but nonsense gushes from numb lips, babbling as words bubble on your tongue, simmering in your mind but unable to wrap your fingers around their slick wetness, springing out of your grip and bouncing away.

“Answer me,” he laughs roughly, squeezing lightly at your throat in reprimand, thumb and fingers pressing beneath the softness of your jaw, adding pressure without impeding your ability to breathe. “Tell me you want me,” he urges, rolling his hips against you tauntingly, free hand returning between your thighs, fingers lightly circling your clit, making more tears drip from your cheeks and fall onto the table.

“A— Az…” you cry, nails dragging over the surface, squirming as you tremble, so worn out and so tired. “Az—… I— I can’t—!” He releases you abruptly, allowing you to flop forward, shadows cushioning the drop.

Instead his hands take up a bruising hold on your hips, and you cry out when he lifts you from the table, hands scrambling for purchase as you struggle with balance. It’s not very far…maybe the length of your forearm…but your feet can no longer touch the floor, and you struggle for some kind of stability.

“Az…” you whimper, panting heavily, squirming as you feel him press his tip to the soft, wet dip between your thighs. “Keep still,” he instructs hungrily, voice deep and rough, making your toes curl. You can’t take anymore…you can’t take another one. He’s forced too many into you, dragged them out with his teeth, plied them gently with his fingers, shoved them in with his cock and shadows. So full and empty you can’t think straight anymore.

“Or don’t,” he breathes, darkness tracing down your spine, pinching at your breasts as you leverage yourself on your forearms. “Struggle all you like.” Then he’s shoving the breath from your lungs as he fills you up in one swift motion, pushing shy, soft noises from your lips to make room for his cock.

You babble, spine curving as you squeeze him, toes pointed as you seek stability, but he’s holding your hips so effortlessly, as if you really are just a toy he can fuck and breed for as long and as hard as he likes. Even while his cum is spilling out of you, dripping down your silicon-made thighs.

Your arms tremble at the thought, as he keeps his hips pressed tight against the backs of your thighs for a minute, basking in the wet heat, the grip you have on him, so eager to take him while you’re trying to protest.

“How many more can you give me, hm?” He muses roughly, shadows stroking down your spine affectionately, soothing the jitter of your muscles as you begin to soften again. Reassured by the gentle touch, even if it won’t last long. That’s all it takes from him—a few gentle touches, a few gentle words, and he can have you like this.

“Two? Three?” He questions idly, moving slightly behind you, causing him to shift inside of you, cock pressing against a spot—saliva pools on the table, spilling over slightly parted lips, panting heavily, giving up and letting him hold you above the floor.

“Az…” you mumble softly, blinking away tears. “I can’t…I can’t do anymore…I’m tired…” Shadows raise from the table, rubbing gently at your cheeks, and you tilt into them, allowing them to cup your jaw, moving like his hands would if they were brushing the wetness away.

“No? You won’t give me anymore?” He asks lightly, as if he doesn’t particularly mind what your answer will be—it’ll have no affect on what he chooses. He knows what he’s going to do with you, and he knows you will let him. “You were telling me a moment ago how good it felt. How full you were and how badly you wanted me to—”

“Azriel!”

A flush of humiliation warms your cheeks, thighs trying to press together, heat bubbling away, already prepared for him.

“Embarrassed?” He chuckles lowly, your breasts peaking at the sound. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about around me. You deserve to be fucked full, don’t you?” Your toes curl, nails lightly scraping over the wood of the surface. Head dipping as heat flushes your cheeks more intensely.

Azriel hums, dragging his hips back slowly, and you squeeze him tightly, trying to suction him back in, already feeling so cold and empty without him heating you up. “Don’t you?” He repeats encouragingly, hungrily taking in the curved plain of your back—thinking how he could trail the knuckles of your spine with the soft flat of his tongue.

You swallow thickly, knowing it will please him to answer. “I deserve it,” you mumble into the table, head dipping lower to muffle your words. But of course it isn’t enough.

“What was that?” He muses roughly, pushing ever so slightly back in, urging more filthy confessions from your tongue.

The heat builds, and you push your face into the crook of your elbow, lips practically brushing the table top. “I can’t say it,” you mumble, features burning hot. “It’s embarrassing…”

“You’re not getting anything until you do,” he drawls, making to draw out of you entirely. Leaving you cold and empty on your kitchen table.

“I—…” you begin, panicked and rushed, whimpering when shadows pull your head from the table, tugging lightly on your hair. “I deserve it…I deserve to be fucked full,” you repeat, getting a strange sense of his pride at the confession, squeezing him hard in return. You’ve done your part…he has to fulfil his side now.

Azriel curses beneath his breath, before easing back into you, watching how your back shifts as you desperately pull air down into your lungs, feeling breathless no matter what you do. “Gods, you should see yourself right now,” he utters roughly, gazing down at your joining point, the broadening of your hips where you’re bent over.

“Fuck, you take me so well…” he groans, grinding against you. So much deeper now he has you suspended like this, his hands still gripping you tight.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, shall we? Since you’re so tired.” He murmurs, able to hear the deep-throated hunger in his voice, slightly mocking of your stamina. Despite how long he’s been working on you. It’s not even light out anymore.

“Pass out if you’d like,” he adds, dipping down to nip at your ear, and you squirm against him, wishing he’d start moving again, now that he’s reignited the arousal between your thighs.

“I’d like to see what you do, when I fuck you back into consciousness.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya

dark!az taglist: @honeyandhalfmoons

#azriel x reader #azriel x reader fic #azriel smut #azriel x reader smut #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger

[gayhoediaz]

of backshots and blunders

3.2k || E

“Fuuuuck.” The thick, long moan pours out of Buck’s throat as Tommy slowly sinks inside of him, stretching him out on his thick, long, perfect cock.  It’s only the third time, but Buck is already completely and utterly fucking addicted. It’s as if he ceases to be human every time that he gets to have this - it’s just him, and Tommy, and a hot, roaring fire inside of him, craving more - nothing else matters.  “Feel good, baby?” Tommy asks from behind him, his large, warm, callused palm caressing its way up his spine until it finally reaches his hair, massaging his scalp as he gives a slight grind, a sharp bolt of pleasure zipping up Buck’s spine as he pushes up against his prostate.  It’s the first time they’re doing it this way - the first two times, Tommy insisted on having him on his back so he could check for any discomfort - and Buck certainly wasn’t about to complain about looking his hot pilot boyfriend in the eyes as he took him apart - but now they both know that Buck can handle it - beautifully, according to Tommy, which makes Buck feel all kinds of things - so for the first time, he’s on all fours, Tommy’s other hand keeping a firm, steady grip on his hip - and fuck, Buck thinks that this angle might be even better.  “Fuck, yes,” he nearly laughs, rolling his hips back, pressing his ass into Tommy’s pelvis as he flexes his muscles, squeezing him tightly, using his insides to massage his beautiful cock. “Feel so good, Tommy,” he praises - and then, because he’s craving what he knows Tommy will grant him in response; “How do I look?” he asks, giving another roll of his hips, deliberately arching his back.  “God, Evan,” Tommy sighs at that, the hand in his hair growing slightly rougher as he continues massaging his scalp, Buck practically purring like a cat, chasing the attention as he feels his other hand drift away from his hip, and down to his ass, gently pulling his cheek to the side. “Like my own personal porn star, fuck, kid, I can’t believe I get to have you in my bed,” he grunts, as he slowly pulls himself out - and then rolls back in, both of them grunting in unison, Buck’s sound trailing off into a whine. “So beautiful stretched out on my cock,” he adds on the second thrust - still keeping things somewhat slow as Buck feels his thumb drift down to his rim, pressing down lightly. Buck mewls. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he says. “Always so good for me, that’s all you ever want, huh?”  “Yes,” Buck huffs, nodding sharply as he rocks his hips, enthusiastically meeting Tommy’s steady thrusts. “Can you pull my hair?”  Most of their exploring has been fairly plain so far - which is not to say that it hasn’t been fucking fantastic - but they have both been a little bit more focused on Buck learning how to not choke on Tommy’s cock rather than whether or not they like having their hair pulled.  This morning feels different, though - it feels as if they’re finally settling into each other, growing more comfortable.  “Like this?” Tommy asks, immediately getting with the program, hand tightening into a fist, craning Buck’s neck just a little bit backwards.  “More,” Buck pants, and then he swipes his tongue out of his mouth to wet his lips, but he doesn’t quite end up putting it back, instead he leaves it resting out over his bottom lip, eyes closed as he lets himself be controlled by the pleasure coursing through his veins.  “Oh, more, huh?” Tommy pants, amusement painting his tone as his hand grows tighter once again, the pins and needles sensation tingling all over Buck’s scalp, just on the right side of pain as his neck is twisted even further back.  “Yes, fuck, that’s it,” he praises, allowing his hips to grow even more enthusiastic as he slams them back into Tommy’s body, the thud thud thud soon echoing beautifully around the mezzanine. 

continue reading on ao3

#bucktommy #911 abc #fanfiction #buck x tommy #brewrosemilk #niesfics #writing tag

[ghoulphile]

I'm gonna call out my daddy issues here when I say this but you think coop refers to the age gap you would undoubtedly have? Like he would have you cornered and have his hands up your shirt whispering about how "you shouldn't let a dirty old man touch you like this." like HELLO 😍

me thinks the man doth protest too much 😉

(oops my daddy issues reared their head, my bad sksksk)

i think he'd be super hesitant but once you gave him the green light, he'd go full steam ahead - though he'd be whispering the whole time how wrong this is, how he shouldn't be doing this - fuck what is he thinking - why are you letting him do this? don't you care that he's old enough to be your father? why are you allowing him to touch and kiss and fuck you?

surely it can't feel that good when his hands slide up your shirt, cup your tits and roll his thumbs over your nipples. pinch and pluck and play as he kisses his way up the side of your neck.

nips on your earlobe. slide the other hand between your thighs to feel how soaked your panties are, brushing rough fingertips over damp cotton to rub firm circles against your aching clit.

to tug them aside so he can slip his fingers in, only to groan about how tight and warm and soft you are when you cry out at how wide they spread you open. how this has to be a dream, there's no way you're seriously getting off on this.

right?

the talented flick of his wrist as he strokes along the front wall of your pussy, tapping at the rough patch of ridges that make up your g-spot with the pads of his fingers. grinding in and holding until your thighs are shaking, knees soft and doughy.

how you pant into his mouth, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip as your hands sink into his hair, tugging as you rock into his touch. how you shiver, full-bodied, as he punches desperate little moans out of your mouth.

you should not be doing this, it's so so wrong. what if you get caught? there'll be no living it down. and yet he's never been harder in his life, his cock filling out the front of his pants, zipper digging painfully into the leaking head.

you feel, taste, and sound so good.

and while he shouldn't, he wants to get you under him, fuck his way between those thighs. make you cry and gasp and clutch at his shoulders when you cum around his cock, nails digging lines down his back.

he can't - he can't.

but oh, does he want to.

wants to stretch that pretty pussy out and show you how all the guys your age don't compare to the experience he's got. wants to prove how fast he can make you cum for him.

have you ever actually cum sweetheart? have any of those boys you've fooled around with really cared long enough to truly pleasure you, drag you to the edge by your fingernails? do they even know where the clit is?

from the way you buck and claw, kisses harsh and tongue desperate, he'd hazard that's a no. but it's okay because while this is wrong (on so many different levels), while he really really shouldn't (but really really wants to), he can show you what it's like. an educational experience, as it were.

it's okay, it'll be your little secret. after all, a pretty young thing like you deserves to be used well. and though everything in him rebels against the idea, he's mighty flattered you choose him.

#asks #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader

[undercoverpena]

midnight bedsheets

joel miller x f!reader | joel masterlist

summary: you and joel find some bedsheets.

wordcount: 1.2k warnings: fluff/little smutty - allusions to smut. mostly fluff those guys. i needed this. post outbreak. joel is smitten. soft!joel because he's my fave. AN: written on my phone so, mind the errors.

When the two of you had split up, Joel had a feeling that you wouldn’t look for one goddamn thing he’d asked you to.

He’d seen it.

That glimmer of fucking mischief shimmering in your eyes, tracing your lips with the tip of your tongue, hand on your hip, I’ll be sure to keep my pretty eyes open, Miller.

He doubted you would. But he wouldn’t, and couldn’t, doubt your eyes were pretty.

They had burned themselves into him by now. To the point he knows the exact shades that make them up; all well known to him, able to pick them out from a lineup, if he so needed to.

Having seen them in all manner of ways—looking up at him, next to him, underneath him. Seen them when the sun shined, when the snow fell; when the rain fell and the thunder clapped.

Kicking his foot against something picked over, he listens for your boots, for you turning over your side of the store. Clicking his tongue, shaking his head, heading your way, knowing, before he finds you, that you’ve located something they weren’t looking for.

Sometimes, he doesn’t like knowing you so well. Finding you on your hands and knees, ass in the air—hips wiggling as you stretch yourself, reaching and reaching, shirt having risen and exposing more of your skin to him. Tempting him, like the fucking temptress you are—

“Y’need any help there?”

He shouldn’t think what a sight it is, but he does.

Flicking his thumb against his finger, fighting himself about getting down onto his knees behind you and reminding you of how good he can make you feel.

Memories of you like this, his knees on the outside of yours, the feel of you enveloping him as he slid his cock into your—

“No, I’m good.”

“You sure—”

Whatever you’d been grasping for, must have come loose. Because you shoot up, resting back on your knees—head looking over your shoulder, a smirk on your face.

And not just any smirk. That smirk. The one that makes him hot under the collar of his jacket and makes blood rush to his cock.

It’s the one you sent him when out in the river washing two days ago, when you flung your soaked shirt at him—the slap sounding out in the quiet of the world. Should come warm me up, Miller. A thing he repeated in a grumble under his breath when he removed his boots, layers and trudged out to pull your wet, clean skin against him.

Now, though, he watches in real-time as the smirk shifts into something softer when you stand—when the thing in your hand comes into view. Wrapped in crinkling plastic packaging, the fabric inside folded intricately as he catches the words: Deluxe and Bedsheets.

He watches as you smear your fingers over the front, removing the thick dust, it clagging and clinging to your skin as you try to peer through the muck at what you’d found.

“What y’found?”

“Bedsheets,” you reply, not looking up—voice distant, soft, almost too soft for you.

His weight shifts as he swallows. Already imagining what you’re thinking. Remembering summer breezes in backyards, big sheets billowing, drying off as laughter plays. Hell, he can hear it himself—practically could lose himself to the memory if he tries hard enough.

“We’ve not got room for it.”

Looking up, your eyes narrow—a little bit of fury in your eyes as you roll your jaw. “But, we’ll make room. Right?”

Right. He thinks.

“Joel?”

“Fine.”

He’s not sure when he’s stopped being able to say no to you.

It’s days until the two of you are back in the familiar peeling walls.

The scent is both dire and familiar all at once as he helps you remove the bag from your shoulder, it thudding on loose floorboards as he begins to remove his.

He waits. Waiting for the moment you ask for it, the thing he’s somehow folded and squeezed into his pack. The thing which sat at the base, stared at him when he dug in for his bottle or foil-wrapped food.

You last thirty seconds.

He’d been counting. Grumbling for water as he tells you he’ll grab it, hands finding the plastic with ease—briefly, allowing himself to grasp at it, feel that familiar texture that reminds him of normalcy and shopping.

“You gonna help me?”

Shaking his head, Joel grabs the glass you’ve poured for him. Taking a sip. Letting you stew.

“Think of it like this, the quicker you help me make the bed, the quicker you can make these sheets yours.”

Chewing his tongue, he swirls the murky water in his glass, giving you a minute, not quite biting immediately. “How am I gonna do that?”

Shrugging, your fingers slide down the buttons of your shirt, popping not one, but two open. “Use your imagination, Miller.”

“Filthy, woman,” he snorts, glass slamming down as he moves around the table as you laugh.

A sound that’s beautiful, and warm. A thing he won’t admit, even as he helps, as he takes a side of the bed before your hand brushes his, handing him the packet. Reading you. Tilting his head as he rips it open, being sure to focus on your eyes, knowing they'll widen, biting the inside of his cheek when they do.

And he knows that look. The one that, if you weren't so stubborn, would be matched with your mouth falling open, all in awe.

It makes him half tempted to move around to your side of the bed and see if he’s right. Undo the button on your jeans, slide his thick fingers against the fabric covering your mound, and see if there's a patch, a damp slither as he spots you pushing your thighs together.

But, your face is blank. Unreadable. A thing you're good at, so easily able to bury the effect he has on you as you begin to hum.

A thing he tries not to shake his head at, because it’s nice. Normal. For a moment able to close his eyes and pretend they’re in a bedroom, in a house, something they’ve chosen rather than been given.

It running through his mind. As it does sometimes.

What you’d be like if the world hadn’t pushed you to adapt, whether you’d be as charmed by him as you are now. His eyes catching yours as the two of you shake your pillows in the new sheet—a smile there, kissing your eyes and gracing your lips.

And he hopes you would have been.

Thinks maybe you might have been.

It’s only when it’s done, the bed dressed, does he see the beauty of what you’d seen. The sheets a deep blue, almost midnight, decorated with intricately stitched swirls and stars that break up the expanse.

“It’s like that time we hunkered under that tree,” you say, eyes gazing down at it. “When we saw all those stars.”

He hums. Taking the corner between his finger and thumb, feeling the rich cotton—how it’s not over worn, likely has its thread count.

“Remember what we did under them?”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he flicks his gaze up at you—chin still tucked to his chin. Seeing how another button is undone, exposing the valley between your breasts.

“Get on the bed.”

This time, he didn’t have to ask you twice. Thank fuck.

an: I’m a bit rusty with Joel, so forgive me 🩷

#Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #Joel Miller Pedro pascal #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller tlou #Joel tlou #Joel Miller the last of us #Joel the last of us

[gi4hao]

the idiots you date — x. minghao

roommate!minghao x gn!reader

word count: 1k

genre: fluff but slightly angsty (mention of a past toxic relationship)

“you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are.”

minghao’s face bears signs of exhaustion that you’ve learned to recognize months ago. signs which started to appear exactly when he took on this new “big corporate job” as you often call it, simply because you’re not quite sure to understand what it is.

you’ve finished your dinner an hour ago. you used to wait for him to come home, but that was when he wasn’t working overtime most days of the week.

“they needed me to finish some urgent reports, i didn’t really have a choice,” he tells you before you can even ask anything. his tone is like a permanent sigh, but you know it’s not directed towards you.

sat at the kitchen table, you remain silent, fiddling with the rings he took off before washing his hands. the lights are dimmed, making the dark circles under his eyes slightly more prominent.

“how was your date?” he asks as he takes his plate out of the microwave, probably wanting to change the subject. but you doubt he’s still interested in your date anecdotes, especially since this one was your third of the week.

although he comes to sit right next to you, you carefully avoid his eyes when you reply:

“okay, i guess? the guy was nice but had terrible takes on most topics we talked about. well, ‘we’ is kind of a stretch because i was doing most of the talking. i think he was just here to eat good food and make me pay for most of it.”

“so… not okay, then”, minghao corrects you, and the silence that follows speaks louder than any word would have.

you’ve been single for almost a year now, and your last relationship was not exactly a model of good and healthy communication.

living alone after the breakup was a depressing prospect, and minghao was in need of a roommate to avoid letting his job drive him insane: a perfect match for two long-time friends like you two.

there was always a certain closeness between you, but living together has made it more intimate, and consequently harder to ignore... which is why you decided to ask for the help of various dating apps in hope to get minghao out of your head.

“yeah, not okay…” you sigh, mindlessly sliding one of his rings on your finger.

your gaze lands on the painting hung next to the fridge. one of minghao’s, which you insisted should be put up in your apartment; swirls of paint meeting in rosebuds and milky tulips. you can still see where the paint was spread across the canvas by his fingers.

with a tinge of sadness, you realize minghao hasn’t drawn anything in months. his paint-covered clothes were all replaced by dull suits that make him look like the people he used to feel sorry for.

“what time do you start tomorrow?” you ask, pouring him another glass of water.

his lips press into a thin line; you’re not sure whether he’s holding back a sigh of annoyance or just mentally preparing for an answer you’re not going to like.

“7. there’s a meeting i need to prepare for.”

“and when you get to the office at 7, are other employees there? or just you?”

“don’t start,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing his plate to go put it in the dishwasher. “we’ve already discussed this, it’s a dead-end.”

he’s right, this conversation has never ended well. but your eyes keep coming back to that painting, to everything he’s slowly turning his back to. the sadness ebbs away, giving way to a rising anger:

“no, i will start actually,” you state, walking up to him. “you’re unhappy, hao. you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you.”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are,” he replies, slamming the dishwasher shut. but his voice sounded more cutting than intended: “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that.”

there are a thousand words on your lips right now, but few of them would be reasonable to say out loud. meanwhile, minghao is looking at you like you’re a ticking time bomb.

“but you said it. so now i expect you to either hit me with a miracle solution or kiss me.”

you said it without really thinking, basically shrugging as you know he will never take you seriously. the best outcome would be for him to never speak about your love life ever again.

but his reply makes you instantly freeze: “what if i did both?”

a rush of warmth spreads from the pit of your stomach, radiating through your entire body as his hand comes to meet your cheek, silently asking for confirmation that this is something you want.

your lips crash against his before he can even start to lean in, and the feeling of his skin so close to yours feels so unreal you expect him to push you away any second.

but instead, he matches your eagerness to the point where you’re scared you might lose your balance.

“i hope you like that solution,” he breathes out, leaving one last kiss on your nose.

in that fleeting moment, you reunite with the old minghao, the lively one who makes his own decisions and owns up to his actions. the one you fell in love with years ago.

“absolutely”, you chuckle, your hands meeting behind his neck. “…so i guess i can tell that guy we won’t go on a second date.”

“you better,” he earnestly tells you as he starts to take his black blazer off. “working from 7 to 9 will never be as painful as watching another idiot take you on a date. from now on, i’ll take care of it.”

-> rbs and feedback are always appreciated!

masterlist here!

#i think this is the longest fic i’ve ever poste #d #(so far *wink wink*) #minghao x reader #minghao fluff #minghao imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines

[ghoulfriends-and-tin-cans]

Howdy Partner - Part 1

I...yep. This fic finally broke out of the cage in my brain and found its way into the world. Careful. It bites.

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Pre-War!Cooper Howard (Fallout Show) x fem!Reader

[A/N: This is just fluff with some suggestive language, because as sinfully hot as he is as a Ghoul, he looks like an absolute cinnamon roll as an actor.]

Warnings: Fluff, mild angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, they both think their feelings are unrequited, Cooper is already divorced, flirty friends to lovers, they both wanna kiss so bad, drinking but not heavy, mentions of alcohol, they're not tipsy but they have had a couple of glasses of champagne.

~*~

"Cut! That's a wrap for this week," the director called, and everyone on set began to disperse. Beginning to corral the various props so they could be stored until Monday, I breathed a sigh of relief that the week was over. Halfway through winding up one of the ropes, someone cleared their throat behind me.

"Pardon me, ma'am. Any chance an ole cowboy could int'rest you in a celebratory drink?" The faux western accent drew a smile across my lips before I could school my expression. When I turned, Cooper Howard stood in full costume with his cowboy hat held respectfully over his chest. Always such a gentleman.

"Surely there's some gorgeous starlet who you'd rather be drinking with, Mr. Howard," I teased as I laid the looped rope onto its hook. Clasping my hands behind my back, I blinked innocently up at the man who'd been my friend for years and had quickly carved a spot for himself in my heart.

"Now, why would I want to take another woman out on the town when the most gorgeous one in all of Hollywood is standin' right in front of me?" He murmured, and despite the pang it sent through my heart, I gave a sly smile as I grasped his arm.

"One of these days, Coop, you'll regret being so flirty with me," I said as he plunked his hat on top of my head instead of his own. I couldn't imagine it looked as good on me as it did on him.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"Because, one of these days, the woman destined to be your next wife might overhear you, think you're taken, and give up before she's even met you." We walked toward his trailer, dodging busy workers as we talked. "Or worse...I might actually think you mean those sweet little things you say to me."

Keeping my head forward as we walked, I caught him looking at me out of the corner of my eye, his expression inscrutable.

"Wouldn't that just be a shame," he muttered, but his tone contradicted his statement entirely. A large grin stretched Cooper's lips as we stepped inside his trailer. I knew the drill by now. We left the door open, and I took a seat as he ducked behind a privacy screen at the other end. His accent fell away as he changed out of his costume. "That hat's yours now, by the way."

For a moment, all I could hear was the gentle sound of cloth as I tried to force my tongue to work.

"What?"

"They had about ten of those hats for this movie, and I snagged a couple. One for me, and one for you. That one's yours," he called, and butterflies swarmed in my stomach. "Assuming you want an old actor's hand-me-down, of course. You could always just leave it in my trailer today when we go for drinks and the costume people will find it. I just remember you saying you liked the way the one from this particular movie looked, so I figured..."

He trailed off as he walked out from behind the privacy screen in a white button-down shirt and some dark brown slacks. My breath hitched in my throat, but I shook my head quietly.

"No, I do love it. I'm not leaving it here," I said as I got to my feet. "Thank you, Cooper."

Pink dusted his cheeks, and I couldn't help but wonder how I got this lucky. He didn't feel the same as I did, but it was enough that he considered me one of his close friends. Or, at least, that's what I told myself on those lonely evenings when I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.

I'd been lost in thought for a moment, snapping back to reality when he waved a hand in front of my eyes.

"You in there?" He asked, a mix of amusement and concern coloring his features as I blinked up at him. "You looked like you were a thousand miles away."

"Only about fifteen," I muttered, and before he could ask what I meant, I plastered what I hoped was an enthusiastic smile on my lips. "Well, what are we waiting for? You wanted a celebratory drink, so let's go get it, shall we?"

Cooper had known me for too long to be fooled by that. Like always, I could see his jaw clench for a second as he tucked the information away in the back of his mind for later, then smiled back at me.

"Lead on, ma'am." His faux western accent was back, and he gave me a little wink as I slipped past him out of his trailer.

--

I'd expected to find myself in a bar with him, but Coop had different plans. He'd driven me to his place - a much smaller house than the one he'd previously shared with his daughter and his ex-wife. He'd downsized after the divorce, choosing a more rustic place that was closer to nature than his cushy almost-mansion had been. Modern conveniences were still present, but he was no longer surrounded by the stifling side of city life.

Kicking our shoes off and wandering out onto the upstairs balcony, we raised our champagne flutes and toasted the success of the new movie. I tried not to watch the bob of his Adam's apple too closely as he swallowed.

Looking out at the dark expanse of the night and the bright lights of the city several hours later, we'd barely finished more than a couple of glasses each. It was so incredibly easy with him. We'd talked the whole evening away, focusing on everything and nothing, paying no mind to the fact that the world kept spinning without us.

Eventually, a cold breeze whirled through the air, and we retreated inside. Cooper grabbed an oversized blanket and we cuddled up together in his living room in front of the fireplace. Setting the hat he'd given me on the coffee table, he wrapped his arms around me and let me rest my head on his chest.

This wasn't the first time we'd curled up like this, but it felt more weighted this time. His chin touched the top of my head just as I noted how fast his heart was beating.

Adrenaline. That's all it was. We'd both been startled by how quickly the temperature had dropped. There was no way it could be anything else.

"It looks better on you," he murmured against the top of my head, and my own heart thudded faster in my chest. "The hat, I mean."

A huff of laughter escaped me.

"Somehow, I think your fans might disagree, Mr. Howard. Hell, even I disagree," I admitted as I toyed with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"That's too bad. All of you are wrong. You look so damn good in it," Cooper said as one of his hands skimmed up my back. He sounded more serious than any of his other silly little flirtatious statements ever had - a feat I hadn't thought possible. I could never tell if he was joking when we were alone like this.

"Careful, now. I might end up thinking you're serious–"

"I am," he blurted as his grip around me tightened by a fraction. "I'm serious."

When I lifted my head to look up at him, Cooper was already looking at me; his gaze was soft and vulnerable as he lifted a hand. The backs of his knuckles brushed down the side of my face so gently that the breath was stolen from my lungs.

"Cooper..." I tried to tell him what I was feeling - tried to force all of the words I'd been holding back to the tip of my tongue - but they got stuck somewhere in my throat.

"It's okay," he breathed, his voice was low and rough as he spoke. "You don't have to say anything. I know this probably isn't... I'm divorced, older, and I have a kid. I'm not under any delusions about how undesirable my situation is, but I just wanted to say it once...before I lost my nerve."

I must've fallen asleep. I was dreaming, I had to be.

"I don't expect you to feel the same. You're so beautiful, so kind...you must have men beating down your door for a chance to be with you, and you're stuck here drinking with a washed up old man," he murmured, guilt winding around every word. "When I drive you home in the morning...if it would make you more comfortable, we can forget I ever said anything...blame it on the champagne."

Alarm rocketed through me. I didn't want that. I didn't want to forget. I didn't want to blame it on the alcohol.

Dream or not, I just wanted Cooper.

Leaning upward, I took a chance and pressed my lips against his. They'd always looked soft. I never thought I'd get the chance to find out what they felt like on anything but the back of my hand.

When he kissed me back, I'd never been so glad to be wrong.

Giving in to my desires, I braced one hand on his chest and buried the other in his soft, dark hair. He grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me closer as we drowned in each other.

When we finally broke apart, Cooper nuzzled my nose drawing a breathless, joyful giggle from some dazed part of my mind.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered, and I nodded my head.

"I did assume I would be when you stated that you'd be driving me home in the morning," I teased, and he gave me a gorgeous smile, his eyes twinkling in the low light.

"Beautiful smart-ass. I meant...stay in my room with me. Not the guest room," he murmured even as his gaze dropped to my lips again. "I promise I'll be good - keep my hands to myself."

"You don't have to." The words whispered against his lips prompted a hungry hum from his throat, but he shook his head.

"I want to wine and dine you first. You deserve that...deserve to be treated like a princess," he said, "that way, when the time comes, and I finally have you all to myself, you'll know how much you mean to me."

A desperate whimper escaped me, and he smirked like the cat that got the canary.

"Now, can you be a good, patient girl for me tonight, sweetheart?"

I agreed, muttering under my breath that he was a damn tease, but my protests were silenced by the look Cooper gave me as he led me to his bedroom. Longing looked good on him.

~*~

Taglist:

@live-logs-and-proper

#ghoulfriends-and-tin-cans fic #Cooper Howard x Reader #Pre-War!Cooper Howard x Reader

[surielstea]

The Best I Ever Had

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader (Azriel’s ex)

Summary: Reader seeks revenge on her ex-boyfriend, and that revenge just so happens to take the form of a very willing Vanserra.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | p in v | fingering | cervix brushing | no aftercare (not Eris) | angst (not Eris) | manipulation (not Eris)

7.6k words

I've been dating the shadow singer for a little over a year now— but calling it dating seemed to be a stretch. It started with a few dates but inevitably it turned into a cycle of him telling me to come over, we'd hook up, then I'd leave in the morning. If he wasn't busy I'd stay for breakfast, but that was pretty much it.

Now I lay next to him, thoroughly fucked out and sweating. Azriel was a busy male but when he fucked, he fucked good. That fact made me feel selfish for wanting more than just being a casual hookup.

I sigh audibly, sitting up and slipping out of the bed, waddling into the bathroom to get myself cleaned up. That was another thing, once Azriel got what he wanted he was kind of done with me, so aftercare was absent and it made me feel like shit.

I huff as I wipe myself down with a warm rag, then splash water over my face and pat it dry with a soft towel.

I met the spymaster through Morrigan, I hadn't been particularly close to the inner circle but Mor was a good friend of mine, and of course, I could see the way he looked at her, admired her with a silent devotion. He has for years while I just watched in the background. Then the three Archeron sisters showed up and he began doing it to Feyre's sister Elain, or Nesta's friend Gwyn. But never me. Never looked at me that way. I was slowly realizing I was becoming a placeholder until something better fell into his lap.

I turn the faucet off and leave the bathing chamber, shuffling back to the bed, slightly defeated. I slide onto the mattress, my boyfriend already sounds asleep with his winged-back facing me. I yawn and decide I’ll voice my opinions tomorrow after a full night's rest, perhaps over breakfast, I could tell him how I feel.

With a plan in mind and enough exhaustion to make a pegasus pass out, I was able to find a light sleep.

The morning greeted me with an empty bed, Azriel's spot empty, and I doubted the male was downstairs making me breakfast. I grumble a curse as I flip the blankets off of me and get up. I simply glance at myself in the mirror and brush my hands through my hair before leaving his room in my nightgown, rubbing at my eyes as I descend the stairs and into the kitchen.

The clatter of a fork sounds and I turn to my left to see the silent shadow singer who had just finished eating. "You didn't want to wake me up?" I say, squinting at the male's silhouette framed by large windows of the morning light behind him. He shrugged in reply. "Figured you'd rather sleep," He murmured as he stood, collecting his dishes and walking towards me.

As he brushes past me towards the sink I remember the loose plan I had put together last night.

"I was thinking," I start. It was now or never. He turned his head to me slightly, signaling that he was listening while he placed his dishes in the basin. "We've been going out for about a year now, maybe we should do something special?" I offer and he turns to me fully, slight confusion creasing his brows. I didn't understand what was so puzzling about it.

"Like what? And when?" He asks, his tone making me feel like I was scheduling a business meeting. I roll my eyes and take a few steps closer. "I don't know, you're always busy," I sigh, making my annoyance clear. He bristles. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, would it kill you to take a break for a day?" I look up at him, my arms behind my back. I hated this. Hated the way he looked down at me as I begged him to just give me the slightest fraction of his attention. He blows out a long breath in contemplation. "I suppose I can take a day off in a couple of weeks," He utters like it's such a chore to leave work.

"A couple of weeks?" I balk with wide eyes and he shrugs again. "I'm not that flexible," He explains and my frown deepens. "Just the other day you took off to help Morrigan with writing letters to the continent," I argue. "That's, different," He said with a slight hesitance in his voice. "How so?" I cross my arms over my chest.

"Because that's Mor," He muttered and a pang of hurt bloomed in my chest. My lip quivered at the words but I maintained my composure. "Listen, I'm not trying to make you sad I'm just telling you the truth," He craned his neck, stretching it out like I was tiring him out with this conversation. "Which is?" My brows raise a fraction. He opens his mouth, then shuts it again, rethinking what he was about to say.

Instead of speaking at all, he leans in and presses a light kiss to my lips, his hands coming to the back of my neck as he slants his mouth over mine. There was no passion behind it, just a move to shut me up and I was a fool to fall for it.

He kisses down my jaw, making his way to my neck where his marks from last night were already fading. His other hand finds my thigh, pushing me up against the counter and hiking up my dress. "Az," I place a hand on his chest. "Az, I don't want to have sex," I murmur, pushing him away and he backs off, confusion in his eyes because that hack has worked every time before.

"I just, I wanted you to look at me the way you look at Elain, or Gwyn, or—" I start. "Don't be ridiculous," His hands come to my cheeks as he interrupts me. "I'm not with them now am I?" He tilts his head. "No, but, you would be as soon as they called," I reason and his gaze falters because he knows I'm right.

"Don't think like that," He shakes his head. Then presses his lips to mine again, his hand returning to my thigh. "Don't think," He whispers and that sets me off. I push him away harder, sending him stumbling a few feet back. He looks at me like I've gone insane. I'm sick of it, sick of feeling so compliant when he wanted me and when he didn't. I was easy to please, and he liked easy, but he loved a challenge more.

"If you're not going to even take the time to make your girlfriend feel like she means anything to you, then," My breath hitched and a stupid smirk came across his features when I didn't finish my sentence. "Then what?" He scoffs. "You're gonna break up with me? Then when you can't find a male who fucks you better than I can you'll come crawling right back, I know how you are," He crossed his arms over his chest and I hated it. Hated that he was right. Because he was such an arrogant asshole but he was handsome and knew how to pleasure a woman. Which was rare to find in the Night Court.

"No, I'm done this time," I stand my ground. "Don't be like this," He sighed at the dramatics of it, looking up to the ceiling like I was draining him. "You always do this," He shakes his head. "I'm serious," I bite out. "Yeah, sure you are," He scoffs, unbelieving of my words as he leaves the kitchen without another word.

I'm serious. I hated being treated like this. I have a long life ahead of me, I can find someone better, perhaps go to another Court where I won't be given such limited options.

I collect my things, forgetting about the rest of my clothes in Azriel's room as I shrug on my jacket, I looked ridiculous with the oversized leather jacket over my short nightgown but I was only going home.

I gave one last look at the house before slipping out and closing the door with a particularly hard slam, making sure he heard I proudly took my leave.

My pride didn't last long before tears began to stream down my face. It was foolish to be crying over my own decision but I couldn't help it. Leaving him meant leaving the entirety of the inner circle, and as close as Morrigan and I were, she'd choose Azriel without a second thought. I knew it, she knew it, and he definitely knew it. So now I was walking through the streets of Velaris teary-eyed, hands shaking as I attempted to wipe them away but inevitably I gave up and just let them run, let myself crumble into the dejection of it all.

I had a house in the hewn city, it wasn't a home necessarily but, it would make do for a few nights until I figured myself out. I muster all of my energy and source my power, before winnowing back to the Court of Nightmares. I sigh in relief to be home, a shock to myself since this is the last place I'd ever want to be. Yet here I was, in my shitty apartment with little to live for. I slump onto the couch and curl into a ball, then just allow myself to bawl and promise myself this is the last time I’ll ever cry over the shadow singer again.

It had been a week.

Azriel was right when he said I’d crawl back to him. This sort of thing happened often, we’d argue then I’d leave until eventually I got too lonely and find my way to his doorstep, he’d take me back and we would pretend to forget about what had happened until the cycle repeated, over, and over, and over again.

But I was done this time. I promised myself I was done and I’m sticking to it. A week was the longest I had gone without going back to him so I took myself to the flower shop down the street to treat myself to something as a reward. Flowers had always brought a smile to my face. Azriel never quite understood when I’d bring him to the gardens, he didn’t see the beauty of them, the way they all lived so harmoniously with each other. So he rarely went to the flower markets with me, it especially hurt when I found out Elain and him had visited the gardens more than—

I shook my head, voiding my thoughts of the spymaster and focusing on the beauty of the white dahlias in front of me. I picked up the bouquet and went to the clerk’s cart to pay. I had visited her whenever I was in the Hewn City, so it was nice to see the familiar face.

She smiles brightly when she sees me. “Just the dahlias for today?” She asks in a raspy tone and I nod. “Yes, but I’ll most likely be back tomorrow for those daffodils tomorrow,” I say, placing five marks down on the counter. “I’ll be looking forward to it,” She says, taking the bouquet from my hands and wrapping it in a burlap paper. “My tulips bloomed this morning, they should be in stock by the end of the week,” She hinted and I grinned at her memory of my favorite flower. “A pleasure as always, Moe,” I say as she hands me the wrapped bouquet.

“Have a good day!” She calls back and I wave at her from over my shoulder before walking down the cobblestones back towards my apartment.

It was a short walk, only around the corner, I had been a few yards away from my apartment yet somehow I still managed to clumsily ram right into a wall while staring down at the flowers— no, not a wall, a male who barely even faltered as I stumbled back. "Sorry, you alright?" Warm hands come to my shoulders, steadying me. I look up to see a familiar set of amber eyes, ones that could only belong to one Eris Vanserra. "Oh, it's you," He uttered but his voice didn’t carry any distaste, only simple curiosity in his gaze. "Are you okay?" The male asks and I was surprised at the concern of his voice.

I often ran into Eris, so much so that it had become sort of a thing between us. I had never loathed him like the others, I understood him better than the rest of the inner circle who had never tried to see more than just a monster. It was clear to me that he was nothing like his father, no matter how much he tried. So clear that it had been a shock to me when Rhys didn’t understand he was only wearing a mask, even when the High Lord had to do something similar while Under the Mountain.

"I'm fine," I shrug with a hurried motion, Eris was also good at reading me, leaving me terrified that he’d somehow see right through my feigned smile. "You sure?" One of his hands left my shoulders only to lift my chin, angling it up towards him. "Who's got a pretty girl like you crying?" He tilts his head, and I blanch. How was he so good at that? I pull away from his touch and avoid his piercing gaze.

"I'm fine," I repeat. "You're a terrible liar, sunshine," He intoned.

Sunshine. A nickname that was only used to remind me that I didn't belong in the Night Court, didn't belong with the Inner Circle at all. There was no place for the sunshine in a place that thrived in darkness.

"Where's that bastard of yours, I doubt he'd like you running around the Hewn City dressed like that," He gestures to my low-cut dress, my cardigan parted just enough to reveal any excessive, albeit impressive amount of cleavage. I press the flowers to my body and a smirk grows over his lips. "He wouldn't care," I grumble. "Really?" He tilts his head. I shrug. "We broke up last week," I don't know why I told him. Some undiscovered part of me has always trusted him, so much that my actions have often betrayed my own thoughts.

"Is that right?" A smile curves his features, nothing but amusement in his tone. "You could at least pretend to feel bad," I frown.

"Why? He lost something he didn't deserve, you gained the freedom to be with someone better. It's a win in both cases, for you at least," He justifies, and a small smile tugs at my lips. "There she is," He admires and maybe it was because I was looking for revenge, or maybe it was because Eris and I had always flirted, but I couldn't help but feel this magnetic pull to the male.

"Hey, do you want to come inside?" I offer, brushing past him and walking up the steps of my apartment, he blinks in shock, I was surprised with myself just as much but I didn't show it. "Just to talk, I'll open a bottle of wine?" I added and his cool demeanor returned.

"Why not," He hummed.

"You're telling me, he did all that— then didn't even provide aftercare?" Eris said in pure disbelief and I nodded with a sigh, thinking myself stupid for letting a male treat me so poorly.

I had spilled most details of my relationship with the Shadow singer to Eris, it may have been wrong to vent to one of the male's many enemies but I owed him nothing anymore, it wasn't like Eris could do much with the details of our relationship anyway.

We sat on my couch, too small for his large legs so I was positioned with my feet in his lap, not that I was complaining once he started tracing shapes on the tops of my knees mindlessly. Eris actually listened, it hadn't been something I hadn’t experienced in quite some time. This easy conversation that made me feel like he wanted to be a part of it. Perhaps it was the three glasses of wine or the glint in his eyes, but what he said next left my head reeling.

"I have a meeting with him today, maybe I should mention it," He hummed, his tone so casual I could hardly tell if he was being serious or not.

"It hurt," I mumble, unsure if I was referring to the sex itself or how he treated me. "It shouldn't," He replies with that damned look in his eyes, reassuring every part of my turmoil. "I know," I shrug.

He doesn't reply, his eyes linger on mine, something beneath that gaze that reminded me so much of how I used to look at Azriel, a certain yearning that I've known so well it was hard to mistake it for anything else.

But before he does something he'll regret, before he gets me attached his breath catches in his throat and he suddenly stands. I look up at him curiously with creased brows.

"Well thanks for the drink, sunshine," He says. I stand, following him to the door like some dog. Was I capable of honing independence for five seconds?

"I appreciate the gesture, but I don't need to be walked out," He gives me a crooked smile, and something foreign pangs in my chest, something I hadn't even felt with Azriel. "But, it was just," I struggle to find exactly what I wanted to say. "Never mind," I sigh, spinning on my heel, angling back to the couch but he grabs my wrist and pulls me back to face him. "It's okay, use your words," he eased and I swore I didn't imagine his thumb stroke on the back of my palm.

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to help me get back at the spymaster," I utter and his brow lifts a fraction. "Are you always plotting in that pretty head of yours?" He leans against the doorway, clearly interested. "You can say no if you want—" I start. "Tell me what I have to do," he sighs and a small smile curves my lips.

"How would you feel about faking a relationship, for the sole purpose of making him mad, nothing more I promise," I say. His brows raise and his hand leaves the knob of my front door. "Why don't I come with you, to the meeting?" I propose. A grin curves his lips. "Look at you scheming," He hums and I roll my eyes. "Who do you think I learned it from?" I smile and he returns it. "Go get cleaned up then, I'll wait," He leans against the closed door and I nod, spinning on my heel and walking down into the hall.

Faking a romance with Eris had been easier than I had thought. Our touches were casual, before the others had even arrived he had his arm slung around my shoulders as if he'd been at my side for the past century. Maybe this was all to get back at Azriel, but my hand on his abdomen didn't have to be there, and I didn't have to look up at him like he stole the breath from my very lungs but it was involuntary, something that couldn't be helped when around him.

He was regal, his features sharp and his words sharper. But more importantly, he actually looked at me, looked at me like I was anything worth importance and more than just a distraction. "You nervous?" He asks, his other arm coming around my waist as I turn to him fully. Everything was so natural, whatever this tether was between us rendered any awkward tension and allowed a casual intimacy.

"No," I shake my head and I meant it, I didn't feel scared with his arms around me, his warm hands splayed over my waist as if they were meant to be there. "You think we'll be convincing enough?" He tilts his head down at me. I peer up at him through my lashes, wrapping my arms around his neck— something about him made me feel so bold, so powerful, so content.

"You want to practice?" He offers with a smirk. "It couldn't hurt," I whisper, his mouth just inches from mine. "Unless you bite," I add and his smirk widened. "Only if you want me to," He shrugs. I grab him by the back of his neck and pull him down, his lips sealing over mine with a fervent force that was unknown to me, his hands mapped my body as he slowly pushed my back into a trunk of a tree, he was entirely addicted to the way I felt, the way I tasted. He was at my mercy and entirely satisfied with the fact.

I arch up into him and he kisses me deeper, pushing me harder into the tree as his tongue swiped over my bottom lip with a needy intent. I parted my lips just wide enough for his tongue to take control, worshipping my mouth like a temple and I could only let him, knew no better but to comply because I loved it, loved the attention, the feeling of him giving me his all while I met him halfway, giving and taking.

“Gods, are you done?” A familiar voice grumbles from the distance and I freeze, Eris’s lips slip from mine, and a broad smirk breaks across his features as he turns to face two winged men, revealing me in the process.

Their eyes weren’t on Eris like mine were, they were pinned directly on me. I smile softly as Eris possessively tightens his hold around my waist, fingers digging into my skin through the material of my dress.

Cassian and Azriel continued to gawk at me, the both of them held straight expressions but their eyes didn’t leave me once, brows twinged upward in both shock and concern, as if I was in any more danger with Eris than with Azriel.

“Are we going to get this over with or are you going to continue to stare?” Eris cut through their gazes and both their eyes snapped towards him. “What’s she doing here?” Azriel seethed, crossing his arms over his chest like he always did when he was infuriated. He was so easy to read for a spymaster. Eris seemed to have recognized this too, anyone angry had little control over what they said, making Eris gain the high ground.

“We can trust her, if that’s what you’re worried about,” The male beside me retorts. Azriel only ground his teeth in reply.

The meeting had started and they began talking about politics, to which I quickly tuned out. Azriel made a few digs at me but it was nothing but a toddler lashing out over not getting what he wants.

It was amusing to watch his cool demeanor deteriorate while Eris found every weakness and dissected it with insults and remarks, I just stared up at the red-haired male with an amused grin, my arms wrapping around his torso, occasionally pressing kisses to the top of his hand that had been slung around my shoulders.

I can remember kissing Azriel’s hands, the scars, it was one of our better moments. It was a low blow to do it to Eris too but it had happened without thought, like an instinct and it made Azriel absolutely feral.

Once the meeting was over Cassian was quick to grab Azriel’s arm and tell him to winnow before he could say anything he’d regret.

“Always a pleasure Cassian,” Eris smiled to the male. “Shadow singer,” He nods his head. “If you don’t mind I’d like to leave early, we have places to be,” Eris looks at me with a smile and I return it. “Yeah enjoy my sloppy seconds,” Azriel spat and I smirked. “You’re the one who told me to find someone who could fuck better than you,” I scoff. “Don’t be jealous because I did.”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when I had you before you started whoring yourself around—” He started. “Az,” Cassian warned, even his brother was upset at him. It felt good to make him hurt, felt like power. Eris looked like he was about to retort, looked angry, and angry meant having little control over what you say so I placed a hand on his abdomen and he clamped his mouth shut with a low growl. He knew this was my battle, knew it should go out on my terms. However, that didn’t stop his fingertips from singing with fire.

“It’s humiliating, honestly Az,” I tease. “Don’t call me that,” He bites but I ignore him. “First you lose Elain to Lucien, and now me to his brother?” I say like it’s something to study, a truly demeaning tone. It made him furious. “Maybe you’d be better off going for girls who don’t want you,” I shrug and the spymaster snarled, Cassian winced at the indirect mention of Morrigan. “Just a suggestion,” I shrug, then look to Eris, signaling that I’m finished.

“Excuse us,” Eris flashes them a smile as he slips his warm hand into my cold one. Eris doesn’t wait for them to reply before he winnows us away, back to my apartment.

“You’re a lot more cunning than you look, Sunshine,” Eris says, his hand leaving mine in favor of coming to my cheek as I peered up at him. “I wasn’t too mean, was I?” My brows crease in worry. I wanted to get back at Azriel, sure, but I wasn’t looking to break any alliances. “There’s the girl I know,” He uttered. “I didn’t mean to be impolite— I just,” I begin to ramble until he tilts my head up manually to face him, making me seal my lips shut at the wonder in his eyes, how he looked at me the way no one has before.

“You were perfect,” He reassured. “And watching you tear him apart was awfully attractive,” He smirked. “I did not tear him— what do you mean?” I snap my head up to look at him and he shrugs. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to,” He shrugs. He wanted to?

“Do you, still want to?” I asked meekly with his hands on my cheeks and my heart pounding against my ribs so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“So shy,” He observes with a growing smile. “That’s okay, we can work on that,” He says like it’s a pressing issue, clearly excited to corrupt it out of me.

I rise onto my toes and crash my lips onto his, warmth blooming in the pit of my stomach at the sensation. My hands came to his jaw while he traveled down onto my waist, one finding purchase at my hip while the other came under my hip, tapping twice and indicating for me to jump. I wrap my legs tightly around his torso as he catches me.

My back bows as he leans into it, tilting my head to the side and opening my mouth for his tongue. We blindly stumbled down the hallway, he must’ve been guessing his steps because he was too busy with his lips on mine, too enamored with our kiss to ask which door was my bedroom.

He got lucky and opened the door to the master chamber, quickly closing the door behind him.

I didn’t want to waste another moment without his skin to mine, a moment without him inside of me, a moment without his hands in my hair— so I was grateful when my back met the mattress of my bed and he crawled over me, settling between my open legs, hovering above me with his hands on either side of my head.

We were both panting when he pulled away, need blazing in his eyes like a fire and I leaned closer to smother it, or get burned by it, I hadn’t decided yet.

His lips reconnected with mine and I was quick to reach for the buttons of his shirt, pulling him free from the fabric that strained against his muscular arms while he worked at the ties of my dress.

We were a tangle of limbs and needy pulls until eventually he thrashed my dress off and I unbuckled his pants. He breathed deeply as he pulled away, taking my bare body in, studying every curve and fill of my figure. Gods he looked like an animal with that glint in his eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” He confessed, head dipping into my neck and leaving sloppy love bites trailing from my jaw to my collarbone. “You imagined this?” I murmur, attempting to tease him but it came out all too soft and innocent. “Fuck, every night baby,” He admits and my cheeks flush.

He manages to get his pants off, freeing himself from the constraints of his boxers. I nearly gasped at the sight of him because, Mother, he was huge.

“Eris I don’t think I can,” I look down at his erect member with creased brows, afraid he might split me in half.

“I know baby, it’s okay, we’ll stretch you out first,” He reassured, placing a gentle kiss on my neck and I nodded, trusting him.

“You want my tongue or fingers?” He questions and his sultry gaze leaves me wanting his lips on mine. “Fingers,” I say, only because I favored his lips when they were kissing me. I’d have to see how good he was with his tongue at a different time.

He flashed an animalistic smile before leaning down and sealing his mouth over mine, tongue immediately finding its place swirling with mine, not a battle but a dance.

He practically rips my panties off, and then two of his fingers dive into my soaked folds, my arousal lubing his hand. He smiles at the feel of me, how wet I was over just a few kisses.

His thumb made contact with my clit and I arched, a soft moan slipping from the base of my throat and he caught it with his mouth. He smirks, his fingers beginning to circle over my pulsing entrance, I ached for him, for all of him.

“Eris,” I pleaded out and that was all he needed before he sent both of his long, wide fingers into my cunt. I gritted my teeth at the stretch, holding back moans as he began to curl them expertly inside of me, flicking over that sensitive spot with ease like he knew exactly where I wanted him.

“Fuck, so good at that,” I murmur incoherently, sweat lining my brow as he continues to pleasure me with his hand alone.

His thumb returned to that delicate bud, teasingly circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. My breathing becomes heavy as a symphony of moans is pulled from my chest. There was no way to explain the feeling in my abdomen, the feeling he caused. It was engrossing and hot, so fucking hot.

He was like a furnace above my body, absorbing all the heat from the room so he could possess it, burning over me.

“Eris, I can’t s’too much,” I whisper helplessly and his hand continues to work, continuing its relentless pleasure over my pussy.

“Be a good girl and cum on my hand, alright?” He instructs and I suck in a sharp breath, feeling that orgasm pick up then tumble over that fine line. My legs jolt as I find release, doing exactly as he said and reaching my high on his fingers alone. “That’s it, just like that,” He hummed, helping me down from my climax as he pulls his fingers from my stimulated cunt.

“You think you’re ready to take me Sunshine?” He tilts his head with a caring look in his eyes, if I didn’t know any better I’d think he was being mean, but his touches were gentle and his movements were slow, hinting that if I wasn’t ready he would stop and we could go to bed now.

“I want you inside Eris,” I confess. I wanted him more than just inside. I was ready to cut myself open and allow him to dissect me, analyze me. But I’d have to settle for this connection instead. “Please,” I beg, tears at the corners of my eyes from my earlier release and he nods. “Tap me twice if it’s too much alright?” He kisses my cheek with the intimacy of lovers who have been tangled in bedsheets for decades. “Okay,” I nod.

We watch as he aligns his heavy cock with my entrance, a pearl of his pre-cum budding at his red, angry tip. He swipes himself through my folds a few times, the weight of him alone enough to satisfy. He lathers himself in my arousal, then strokes himself once, twice, until finally, he pushes his head into my aching slit. He grunts at the tight feeling and I was unsure if I was pushing him out or sucking him in.

He moves deeper, going quicker as to get the most uncomfortable part for me over with. His movements remain gentle, my fingers intertwine into his deep, auburn hair. Whiskey-colored eyes stare down at me half-lidded and it only leaves my heat sopping wet.

I swallow my moans as he reaches halfway, then deeper. He brushes over that perfect, sensitive spot then somehow goes further. I hadn’t even known it was possible to be so fucking long because by the time he had sheathed himself entirely his tip lightly kissed my cervix.

I writhed beneath him as he began to pull in and out, thrusting his hips at a leisurely pace, feeling out what made me feel good and where he was when I moaned the most. He was specializing this entirely to me and how it made me feel.

“Faster,” I panted. “Fuck, Eris I want you feral,” I plead, the tears that had been threatening at my eyes now spilling onto my cheeks, down onto the mattress below my head. He followed my instruction, picking up his pace and beginning to piston himself into me with such a maddening force that the bed began to creak against the power.

He held me tight so I didn’t move up the bed with his movements, and the sounds, the wet, lewd sounds of his cock entering me over and over sent me into a moaning mess.

“Spread your legs,” He ordered. I did as he said, going as far as I could manage. “That’s it, wider baby,” He hummed and I let out a cry of pleasure as he brushed my cervix at his next thrust, breath leaving my lungs momentarily at the feeling. He smirks at the way I squeezed him tighter. He grabbed my thighs and forced my legs apart himself, folding me in half and bringing them up to my chest, holding me in a mating press.

I whimpered at the realization that I was completely vulnerable for him, laid entirely bare and I fucking loved every second of it.

A fire roared in the hearth, the warm light making his skin practically glow with the sheen of sweat on his chest. “You’re so tight,” He grunted out in between thrusts. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock.” My pussy pulsed at that, at the unapologetic force of his shaft as he rammed into me, the dirty words, the perfect sounds that filled the room.

Eris continues to push into me, faster this time, his speed outmatched and the look in his eyes, pure lust. He leans down and trails kisses from the side of my neck, taking in the expanse and leaving it with marks and saliva. He kisses to the back of my ear, his soft whimpers inaudible if he was any farther sent me reeling, gods he whined every time he drove into me and I loved every fucking moment of it.

“All mine,” He purrs at the shell of my ear, his breath fanning over my jaw. “All yours,” I reply and he twitches at the devoting words. “No one else can fuck you this good, isn’t that right?” He hums and I mewl— because he was right, he sent me to planets of pleasure, the emotion behind each of his thrusts left me convulsing.

“Mhm,” I nod. “Best I ever had, Eris,” I pant and he smiles, nipping at my earlobe before returning his attention to rolling his hips over mine, his balls slapping against my ass as my slick drips onto my thighs.

He continues to push into me, every injection harder and deeper than the last leaving me to spiral beneath him. His base rubbed against my clit and that had been my breaking point. “Eris, I’m gonna—” I couldn’t even get the words out. “I know, me too baby go ahead,” He allowed and with his next thrust hitting my cervix I found that sweet ecstasy and it was more than just a wave of pleasure it was a tsunami, crashing down onto me with a force I thought I’d never recover from. I felt full, complete.

He followed soon after, his release pumping into me and painting my walls white, and gods he was so close to my womb I could feel his warm seed seep into my cervix while I milked his cock dry.

I pant and my legs jolt as he guides them away from my chest and slowly pulls himself from my throbbing cunt, still squeezing him in despite just experiencing the best orgasm of my life.

He flipped over onto the pillow beside me. Our pants filled the room as the fire dwindled into ash and we were left in the darkness, with nothing but the company of each other.

We lay there for only a moment before Eris left my side on the bed, pulling his boxers back up. I assume he’s going to leave now that whatever transaction this was is over, and even if I felt my heart crumbling to pieces I’d let him go. We didn’t owe each other anything, there was no reason for him to stay anymore, even if I wanted him to.

I ignored the noises of clothes ruffling and drawers opening, closing my eyes and waiting for him to leave until I got up to clean myself.

That was until warm arms came beneath my back and thighs, hoisting me up into his arms bridal style.

“What are you doing?” My brows crease, arms wrapping around his neck involuntarily. “I’m getting you cleaned up,” He explains with such a casual smile it makes my heart beat twice as fast.

He led me into the bathroom and placed me on the cool counter, the apex of my thighs aching with an already developing soreness. “Why don’t you tell me about your day?” He offers, finding a rag beneath the sink and wetting it with warm water. “You were with me for most of my day,” I mumble and he smiles at the fact. “Tell me about before, talk to me,” He says and an odd feeling begins to spread in my chest, the kind that made my cheeks flush and my head spin.

So I did. I told him about my day, how I went to the flower market and ran into a familiar face, how I invited him in for wine and it managed to end in the best sex of my life.

I also told him about how I felt when I was getting my revenge on Azriel. Told him that it made me feel powerful, but also that I was satisfied where it ended and I wasn’t interested in associating with him at all any longer.

I told stories, topics varying in length until I was sure I had been talking his ear off— but he was listening, chiming in now and then, signaling that he was still tuned in to whatever I had to say. It was healing to talk about all of this while he cared for me, his touches gentle and his calloused fingers warm. He healed internal scars with those hands.

When I cleaned myself up I wiped myself down and then changed into a nightgown before getting into bed. He took his chance to go above and beyond, he even offered a bath but I told him I was tired so he only wiped me down in touches so featherlight I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been staring at him in the low lighting the entire time.

He brushed through my hair and made sure I was okay and safe. I had realized he was so gentle with me because of the way his father had treated women in the past, his mother in particular. Becoming a male like that seemed to be Eris’ greatest fear, which made clear why he was so soft with me. And perhaps it was also because I deserved the kindness.

“This one?” He held up my softest nightgown and I nodded, putting my arms up so he could slip it over my head. He grinned as I adjusted the dress down past my head, leaving my hair in my face, making me grin wildly. He reached out and brushed it behind my ears.

“I love that smile,” He hums and my cheeks burn with a blush. He then leans in and presses a loving kiss to my lips. I had never experienced anything quite like it and now I never wanted anything else. He pulled away, analyzing my features beneath the dim light, and if I wasn’t red from his earlier comment I definitely was now.

“Alright, let’s get you into bed,” He reached beneath my thighs and hoisted me up into his arms, carrying me back into my room and then laying me down on the soft mattress.

I sigh contentedly as he slips into the bed beside me. “Can you hold me,” I whisper, feeling confident enough around him to ask such a thing. “Was planning on it,” He smirks, wrapping his arm around my torso, and pulling me right into his chest.

I smirk excitedly, slinging my leg over his torso and wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. “I thought you were tired?” He murmured as I pecked all over his face in lazy kisses. “I don’t want to waste this,” I confess and his gaze softens. “I’ll be here in the morning,” He reassured and I swallowed thickly. “Promise?” I murmur and he nods, pressing a hard kiss on my forehead. “I promise, sunshine.” And those words sent me into the first peaceful slumber I’ve had in a while.

Eris had not been in the bed next to me when I awoke. A sense of hurt and betrayal ran through me at the sight of the empty bed. I audibly groaned in defeat, muttering curses into my pillow because last night had left me so hopeful, but I suppose what’s easy in the evening is a drag by morning.

I huff and slip from my covers, adjusting the straps of my nightgown and leaving my bedroom with small, waddling steps due to my horribly sore legs.

I continued my slow, depressing trudge until I made it into the kitchen and froze at the sight of Eris leaning over the stove, making breakfast.

“You’re going to get burned cooking shirtless,” I warn, ignoring the visible release of tension in my shoulders. Because he held up his promise, even better, he’s making me food. He whirls around to face me with a small smile. “I won’t get burned,” He scoffs, holding his hand out to the fire of the stove, the flames growing then reaching towards him and forming into a ball in his palm.

I marveled and walked closer, staring straight into the flickering ball of heat, dangerously close. “You won’t either,” He says, uncurling his fingers and allowing the fire to stretch into a line of flames leading from me to him. My breath hitched as the flame came into contact with my skin but it didn’t burn, in fact, it barely even tickles. The serpent of fire twines around my wrist, dancing along my skin and I smile, looking up at him excitedly like I was the one controlling it.

“See? You’re safe,” He says then retracts the flames and feeds them back into the fire at the stove. Safe. That was the feeling that’s been filling that pit in my stomach.

“Now, you hungry?” He tilts his head and I look up at him in wonder, why was I ever settling for less when I could have everything I ever wanted with him?

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips hard onto his, attempting to show my gratitude through the action, my chest pressing to his as his arms came around me, heating my frame as I exposed my fragile heart to him and he returned the movement with the same tenderness. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He mumbled against my mouth, making me smile giddily up at him.

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#suriels tea #acotar #fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #x reader #request #acomaf #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra #acotar smut #x you smut #x reader smut #smut #x you fluff #acotar fluff #x reader fluff #fluff #slight angst #angst with a happy ending #light angst #x reader acotar #azriel angst #morrigan #azriel #cassian #rhysand