#keep the little one's fingers from freezing

[celtic-crossbow]

Blood Ties Chapter 28

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Pregnancy stuff - bodily fluids, etc.

A/N: Still worried about Daryl's character in this, but I guess I will probably continue to do that since this is a situation we haven't seen him in during these seasons. Anyway, game on.

Two days. Three centimeters. Nothing really new other than a few small, quick contractions that were nothing more than a tightening of your belly. Daryl stayed close, mainly venturing outside only to smoke or relieve himself, and, of course, he accompanied you when you needed to go. At that very moment, you were lying propped up on a mountain of pillows that everyone had given you. Daryl was sitting cross-legged by your feet, sharpening his knife.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth. The archer looked up and studied you, looking back down at the whetstone before shaking his head. The sound of the blade sliding against it made your skin crawl. “Can you—stop that please?” He sighed but sheathed the knife and tossed the whetstone onto the top of the things in his bag. He hadn’t been speaking much which concerned you. You watched him scrub a hand over his face before keeping it there and propping his elbow on his thigh. “Daryl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.” His voice was gravelly, tired even, but not unkind. You knew he had slept, or had at least been lying down with you while you did. “Ya hurtin’ or anythin’?” He still had his face covered.

“Mm-mm. Thumper’s awake though. It’s Cirque du Soleil in there.” His hand finally moved to smooth back over his hair, leaving the shorter pieces askew. “Hey.” His eyes met yours again, worry evident and overflowing. “Come over here?” His left hand clenched into a fist but then flexed open again. Daryl got to his feet, taking a single step toward you before bending down to press a kiss into your hair. 

“Gonna have a smoke. Right outside if ya need anythin’.”

You watched him go and sighed, turning your attention to your stomach. “I think you’re scaring your daddy, Thumps. Me too, a little bit, if I’m being honest.” The baby hadn’t been as active over the last 24 hours, but Hershel had reassured that it was normal for movement to decrease in the last part of pregnancy. “I don’t know how good of a mom I’m gonna be. I didn’t exactly have a shining example. And your daddy—he’s gonna really need our patience, kiddo. Shit, we’re both gonna need patience.” There was the smallest ripple beneath your palm. “We’re flying blind here.”

Sounds of a scuffle on the porch had you sitting up straight in a flash, eyes wide and darting. 

“Daryl?”

He staggered in the door—walker blood on his arm and his knife—before gaining his footing and bending to grab your boots. “Gotta go!” He was calling for the others while helping you get ready and grabbing up what blankets he could to stuff into the second bag. You could hear the moans and scratches and thumps just outside the wall. “C’mon, just leave the rest. We gotta move.”

You nodded, leaving the remaining blankets, pillows, and your sweatpants. It would be freezing in just your leggings but as long as you were alive, then you couldn’t really complain. 

Daryl threw one of the bags on his back—along with his crossbow—while you shouldered the other bag. Knife in one hand, he took yours in the other and was pulling, the first of the herd of corpses tumbling into the house, slimy fingers grasping so closely that you felt the tug on your hood before they seemed to have lost their grip. 

Everyone was sprinting out the back, Rick waiting until you and Daryl had passed to follow and pull the door closed behind him. The truck was blessedly close. Daryl was pulling the bag from your shoulder and opening the door simultaneously, letting you climb inside while he tossed both packs into the back and rounded to the drivers side. You had the key ready and in the ignition, your heart rate slowing the moment his foot hit the gas. 

“Y’okay?” 

Catching your breath—winded by fear and exertion and well, the extra weight of the human growing inside your belly—you looked over just in time to see him take his right hand off the wheel, flex his fingers as they moved just the slightest distance toward you, and then place it right back where it started. 

“Yeah.” You answered breathlessly, swallowing and nodding. “Yeah, we’re okay.” He relaxed a little. His next question would have been about Thumper, so why not ease his mind quickly? “Are you okay? The one outside, before you—”

“M’alright. Ain’t bit or nothin’.” He mumbled, dragging his left thumb over his bottom lip before he began chewing on the skin there, thickened from all the scarred wounds he had given himself, small as they were. He was anxious. He had every right to be. You could go into labor at any moment and another temporary home had been overrun. It had been months of this shit. Run, run, run, and—for a change of pace—run again. 

Hand steadying your belly, you twisted in the seat to look behind the truck for the headlights of the van. When you didn’t see them, you swiveled back to check the side mirror, finding it easier to watch in that position. There was nothing but the soft red glow of the truck’s tail lights. “I don’t see them.”

“They’ll show an’ we’ll pull off. Come up with somethin’.” His eyes slid over to you and back. “Can’t keep ya out on the road.”

You couldn’t disagree. You could feel your ankles swelling inside your boots. Your pelvis and hips ached, your lower back felt strained. Your stomach was tightening in a small contraction. You were just highly uncomfortable and more than a little tired. Your head fell back against the headrest, eyes closed. You must have dozed because when you opened your eyes, the truck was still and Daryl was gone. 

“Daryl?” You quavered, grabbing the dashboard as you slid to the edge of the seat to be able to survey the surroundings. It was too dark. You could barely see inside the cab itself. “Daryl!” Just as you grabbed for the door handle, the driver’s side door opened at full tilt and the archer peered inside.

“M’right here. Y’okay?”

You exhaled sharply, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. “What’s going on? Why’re you out there? Are the others here?” 

Daryl looked over his shoulder, tapping his fingers against the top of the door before turning back toward you, looking at the seat instead of meeting your eyes. “Nah, they ain’t here. Ain’t seen no sign’a ‘em.” You could see the same worry you were feeling reflected in his posture. 

“What will we do if they—” You couldn’t say it. You just couldn’t. Why did the world just insist on taking everything? 

“Do whatever we gotta do.” Daryl sniffed, looking over his shoulder again. He was thinking the same thing you were. Neither of you knew the first thing about childbirth. You turned to get out of the truck, an ache in your lower back while your stomach tightened in a contraction making you wince, your fingers wrapped around the door handle. “Stay in the truck.” Your hand fell away but the pain remained. It wasn’t unbearable and after a moment, your muscles loosened. The pain in your back remained but lessened.  “Y’alright?”

“Mhm.” You answered quickly. Laying back against the seat, you blew upward to move an unruly hair from your face. You were so tired but you couldn’t sleep, not while your partner was standing outside the truck alone and keeping watch. It wouldn’t even do much good to try when there was no comfortable position you could find with your back twinging. Still, you found your eyelids drooping. When the truck rocked the slightest bit, you didn’t startle. A warm hand wrapped around your shoulders and pulled, and you let yourself be guided to lie on Daryl’s thigh.

“Get some sleep.”

With a hum, you turned to face his stomach so your own could rest upon the seat. His hand settled on your ribs. 

“I love you.” You mumbled, already halfway gone into slumber. The last thing you felt was his fingertips graze along your jaw.

It was daylight when you next opened your eyes, the taut skin of your stomach pulling uncomfortably tight while your back spasmed. The contractions themselves were merely annoying while the pain in your back was constant, made worse when your muscles tensed. Grimacing, you glowered at your belly. “Good morning to you, too.” You were no longer pillowed on Daryl’s thigh, actually alone in the cab. You made it up to an elbow when you heard voices. Familiar voice.

“You sure you’re alright? Y/N alright?"

“She’s sleepin’.”

You had to grab the steering wheel to haul yourself upright, opting for the passenger door. Carol was the first to see you and sprinted in your direction. You stood still and let her come to you, your ankles just too swollen and sore to move more than necessary. Once reaching you, she wrapped her arms around your shoulders with a little less enthusiasm so as not to jar you. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay. When we didn’t see the truck—”

“I know. I was freaking out when I couldn’t see the van.” 

She brushed your hair away from your face once she let you go. “We had to go around the herd and then figure out which direction you two went.” You smiled, but it was a weak attempt. Your back was still aching. “Are you okay?” Behind her, Daryl was watching you. You wondered if he was hearing anything Rick was saying.

You waved her off. “Yeah, I’m fine. So, what’s the plan?”

“Heading South, I guess? I’m not sure. I mean, the main thing is to find somewhere safe enough for you to have that baby. Lori won’t be far behind. A few weeks, at most.” Her eyes dropped to where your hand rested on your stomach and then back again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Go see what’s going on. I don’t really feel like walking over there. I”m just gonna wait in the truck.” After a moment, Carol acquiesced, calling over her shoulder for you to yell if you needed anything. You waved your hand over your head and let it fall to your back, pressing in on where the ache continued. Maybe it was time to tell Daryl something else was happening. Opening the door, you lifted your foot from the ground when you felt something gush from your opening, wetting your underwear and leggings. “Oh, great. And now I pissed myself. Way to go, Y/N!” 

You left the door open and stepped back so you could reach into the truck bed for your bag. You’d have to change but you really really did not want to tell Daryl that had just happened. He was your partner and you were pregnant, so he’d understand but you were sure to get a ya did what now and that would just make you feel more embarrassed. Maybe you could call Carol over and she could help you out of the soiled clothes and hide them until they could be washed. 

Standing on your tiptoes, you grabbed the soft handle of your bag when it happened again. Less of a gush, but a noticeable flow. That’s when reality roundhouse kicked you in the teeth.

Oh shit.

“Hey, Daryl.” You kept your tone even, unalarmed even if you were being absolutely ravaged by panic inside. You left the bag and lowered back down to be flat on your feet. Daryl’s boots were loud on the pavement but at a slow stride. Good. You hadn’t terrified him. 

Yet.

“Yeah?” He noticed where you were standing and glanced into the truck bed. “Need your bag?”

“Well, yes and no.” Your abdomen tightened again, still painless, but aggravating the cramping in your back to a new level. With a hiss through your teeth, you knew you had his full attention without even looking at him.

“S’wrong?” 

You were staring at your feet, expression pinched with pain and concentration while you persevered through the episode. Why the fuck did your back hurt? All too soon, Daryl’s boots were right in front of yours. “I—I think my water broke.” When you could finally think past the throb that was slowly ebbing away into the continuous ache, you raised your head to find him staring at the ground. And then your pants. “What?”

“Ain’t there supposed to be—I dunno—a lot?”

“How the hell should I know? You think I give birth on a regular basis?” You snapped, immediately murmuring an apology. 

“Ya sure ya didn’t just—”

“No, I didn’t piss myself.” More fluid trickled from within you, a miniscule amount but enough to be noticed. “At least I think I didn’t? I mean, I was expecting more of a whoosh. Like Noah’s Ark level of liquid, you know?” And then you were silent. And so was he. You stared at one another, each waiting for the other to say something.

Daryl cleared his throat. “M’gonna—gonna get Hershel.” He turned but barely managed a step before he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Or I can stay here? Do ya need me here?”

“Just get Hershel. I’ll be fine for now. Can you get Carol too, please?” You watched him nod, noticed the tick in his clenched jaw, the way he was tapping each fingertip of his right hand against his thumb rhythmically. He was freaking out. And as you felt more liquid soaking into the fabric of your underwear and leggings, so were you. You were wet all the way down past your knees. 

“Daryl said you needed me.” Carol’s voice brought your head up, your expression triggering the worry that took over her own. “What’s wrong?”

“I think—I either really had to pee or my water broke.” You shifted from foot to foot, carefully keeping your thighs apart. You had never felt so humiliated in your entire life. If your father could see you now—well, honestly he’d probably be laughing and saying take it easy, peanut, it’s just some wet pants. 

“It’s okay.” Carol soothed, encircling her arms around your shoulders. “Anything else going on? Contractions?” You nodded. “How often?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe every half hour but my back is killing me. It just—it hasn’t stopped hurting since it started last night.” She was listening so intently that it made you nervous. “The contractions don’t hurt, but man, they make the back pain fucking horrible.”

Carol smoothed your hair and took your face in her hands, giving you that sweet Carol smile. “Sweetheart, I think that your water did break and that you’re in labor.” You felt your eyes widen and your breaths coming quicker. “It’s okay, just breathe. Daryl’s on his way over with Hershel.”

Daryl came straight to you, the nervousness surrounding him so strongly that it made your chest tighten further. He didn’t say anything as he usually did when you floundered over your responses. When Hershel asked permission to examine you then and there, you began to fidget. 

“I guess there’s not much of a choice, is there?” You lamented, looking to your partner. His head was down and he was trembling. You’d have to talk to him later when there was no one else around. 

“I’m afraid not.” Hershel could see you were anxious. His soft spoken words were proof enough of that. 

Daryl climbed into the cab first and helped you in, letting you rest your head on his thigh while Carol pulled off your sodden leggings and underwear. The examination was quick, much to your relief. 

“As far as I can tell, it was indeed your water breaking. We have no litmus paper for confirmation, but the source of the fluid appears to be from the vaginal opening and not the urethra.” You knew this would happen eventually but that made it no less terrifying. “You can likely expect the contractions to become more intense, closer together as you dilate. They may or may not be painful as we talked about. Daryl, you’ll need to time them.”

“Okay.” Was all he said, quiet and contemplative. Hands at your shoulder blades, he helped you to sit up.

“Rick,” the vet called out, “we need to find somewhere safe and fast.” The deputy jogged over, looking quizzically between all the faces. Carol quickly occupied the old man’s place with fresh clothing from your bag, covering your lower half from view. “Y/N will be giving birth soon and needs a quiet, safe enough place to deliver.”

“These are likely to get wet too, but you can’t ride around in soaked clothing. Beth and Maggie had some pads, so I thought maybe they could help, too.” You nodded robotically. This should be the happiest experience of your life and all you could feel was an overwhelming sense of foreboding. What if you screamed during the birth and brought down a herd? What if the baby cried too loud? What if something went wrong? What if? What if? What if?

Carol helped you get dressed and situated in the truck while Daryl looked over a map with the others. You watched him from the side mirror, smiling when you saw that he could barely focus, continuously glancing toward the truck. You could feel the beginnings of another contraction, the twitching inside before your stomach would tighten and you’d need to breathe through the pain in your back. It still wasn’t unbearable but it was enough to coax a whimper from your lips. Right in the middle of the episode, there was a gentle tap on the window. Lori was looking through the glass sympathetically, waiting patiently until you could use the window crank.

“How’re you holding up?” She asked, reaching in to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You saw no reason to lie. “I’m terrified.” Wringing your hands over your belly, you sniffled in an attempt to hold back the tears. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. “I don’t know what to expect. The pain, you know. What if I cause someone to get hurt because I can’t take it? What if something’s wrong with Thumper? What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Her hand landed gently on your shoulder and you lost the battle with the tears that were demanding to fall. “Everything you’re feeling is normal. Well, as normal as it can be in a world full of the walking dead. It’s all going to be fine. All things considered, you’ve handled this pregnancy like a warrior. I have no doubt that you’ll get through bringing that baby into the world just fine.”

You wiped at your face almost angrily. “Really?”

“Really.” She smiled, looking as if she were going to say something else but her eyes moved to somewhere behind you. She squeezed your shoulder. “It’ll all be okay. We’re going to be leaving soon. We’ll find a safe place.” Another glance behind you and, holding her smile, she walked away. 

You were rolling up the window when the driver’s door opened and Daryl climbed in, shutting the door behind him. “Ya doin’ okay?” His voice was just as shaky as he was.

“I’m okay.” You kept your expression soft and reached for his hand. He let you take it. “Are you okay?” 

“Mhm.” He squeezed your fingers and pulled his hand back to start the engine and take hold of the shifter but he didn’t move it.

“Daryl?”

“M’scared shitless.” You blinked for a moment before quickly dismissing the shock from your expression. “Dunno what m’doin’. Dunno how—what m’s’posed to do to help you.” He was staring straight ahead, carefully avoiding your gaze. It was obvious that wasn’t easy for him to admit. 

“Hey.” He ducked his head but he didn’t look at you. “We’re both lost here, but we’ve made it this far.” With a noise of effort and discomfort, you scooted across the seat. The movement had him looking your way with a quick turn of his head.

“What—quit it ‘fore ya—”

“Shut up.” You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. It was difficult to hold the position you found yourself in, your back singing with pain, but you both needed the comfort, the closeness. When you separated, you kept the hold on his neck and pressed your forehead to his. “We’re in this together. ‘We’ll handle it’, remember?” Clearing his throat, he waited a moment before he nodded, his forehead bumping yours. 

The van pulled up alongside the truck. With a last kiss to his forehead, you slid back across the seat and slouched to take some of the pressure off your back. Daryl nodded to Rick and then pulled off the roadside and followed behind the others.

“That one actually hurt.” You breathed, rubbing a hand over your belly as the pain faded. You’d been on the road for about three hours, stopping at two homes, both with too many dead wandering too close by. Daryl glanced up at you and then back to the watch he had balanced on top of the steering wheel.

“Last one was ‘bout 21 minutes ago, this’un was ‘bout 52 seconds.” He sat the watch on the seat by his leg and switched hands on the wheel, resting his left elbow on the window panel so he could rub his thumb back and forth across his lip while he obviously chewed the inside of his cheek.

“So they’re lasting about the same amount of time but they’re definitely getting closer together.” Shifting in the seat a little, you hissed at the twinge of pain in your back. “God, my back is the worst part right now, but if it doesn’t get any worse than this, I’ll be golden.” You were very doubtful you’d be that lucky but one could dream, right?

“M’sorry.” Daryl mumbled from behind his thumb.

Your brow furrowed, your head shaking back and forth in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

“M’the reason you’re goin’ through this.” He cleared his throat sharply, biting into the side of his thumb with more vigor than you’d ever seen before.

“Last time I checked, I was a willing participant in the creation of this tiny human.” You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. There was a dense fog of tension building inside the cab, one you intended to disperse as quickly as possible before it could soak into either one of you. “This is our baby, Daryl. We decided to do this together.” You started to reach for him but thought better of it for the moment. “We’re going to do this together.”

He looked over at you, glancing back at the road every few seconds. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You shook your head and smiled fondly. “If the baby is as quiet as you are when they’re upset, then we won’t need to worry about them attracting walkers.” You had meant it as a joke but the archer immediately blanched. “No, Daryl, I just—shit, that was the worst. I’m sorry.”

“Babies cry. How—what—”

“We’ll deal with it when we have to deal with it. Right now, let’s just focus on actually having a baby, okay?” That was enough to at least have him lapse into silence with a nod. You watched the sky darken, knowing two things: there would be no shelter before dark and the vehicles would soon need fuel. Daryl must have been thinking the same, his eyes darting down toward the dashboard. His thumb was hovering in front of his mouth, a smear of blood on each.

“Gonna have to camp tonight.” He swallowed so hard that you saw his throat working. “They’re gonna hafta go lookin’ for fuel.”

“You’re not—”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” The conviction in his tone filled your chest with warmth, even if he didn’t look at you. You couldn’t express your appreciation before another contraction began to build.

“Fuck.” You breathed, holding the side of your belly with one hand while the other reached for the dash. Daryl didn’t need clarification, just reached to pick up the watch. Your back screamed while your stomach tightened and cramped, pulling a whimper from within you that you couldn’t seem to stifle. Breathe, idiot, you told yourself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It wasn’t the worst pain you’d ever felt, but it still fucking hurt. Seconds felt like hours but soon enough, you could feel the pain ebbing away, your body relaxing. “Christ.” You fell back against the seat, completely wrung out. 

Daryl was still holding the watch, glancing between it, you, and the road. “Minute an' four seconds, last'un was 19 minutes ago.” Before you could comment, the truck sputtered and jerked. The archer was barely able to get it onto the side of the road before it died. He flashed the lights to signal the van, the brake lights illuminating the road ahead as Rick turned around. Daryl’s hands dropped to his lap, his head bowed to stare at them. “Gettin’ closer together.” He almost whispered.

“Yeah.” It was all you could think of to say. “I am not having this baby on the side of the road.” Even as the words left your mouth, you didn’t believe a single syllable.

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[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

PT. 10

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 5318

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.Smut.

Recap:

But before you can fully come down from your high, someone starts knocking on the bathroom door, jolting you back to reality. Your eyes widen in alarm, realizing the precarious situation you're in.

You both freeze, locking eyes, you can't help but notice the difference in both your reactions. While he appears as if he gives no fucks about the knocking, you're hit with a wave of anxiety at the thought of being caught, especially by your friends. You don’t know exactly why you're keeping whatever's going on between you and Megumi a secret from them. Maybe it's the idea of avoiding their inevitable questions, even though you could easily make something up. But the idea of lying to your friends doesn't sit right with you. Sure, keeping things from them for now is one thing, but lying about something like that specifically to their faces and dealing with the fallout later feels wrong. A swirl of thoughts and emotions consumes you, possibly caused by the alcohol's lingering influence or maybe just the weight of the moment, who knows? But It's a real gut punch when you realize that you've been keeping secrets from your friends for a while now, and not just about this particular situation with Megumi. 

You think back to events with your ex, things you did, things he made you do.

You start to question yourself. Were you really trying to spare your friends' feelings, or were you just trying to shield yourself from potential judgement and rejection?  Because you were afraid. Afraid of being judged, the worry of embarrassing yourself, the constant nagging doubt about whether your friends would still accept you if they knew the truth—it's all there, gnawing at you. You suddenly feel the weight of your own actions crashing down on you. You've been living in fear, trapped in a cycle of hiding parts of yourself to avoid facing uncomfortable truths.

You have a feeling that Megumi can see your growing anxiety, noticing the way you fiddle with the ring on your finger and start to nervously bite your lower lip as you drift into deep thought. He gently places a hand on your waist, pulling you closer as he whispers in your ear, "Hey, just breathe. It's okay, there's nothing to panic about." 

"But what if it's our friends... what do we do then?" you ask nervously. 

"We'll just stay in here for a little longer until they leave”

“But we won't know when they will leave," you point out, your nerves still on edge.

He holds his gaze on you a little longer, sensing that the person at the door isn't the sole reason for your anxiety. There's something deeper brewing beneath the surface, something he can feel but can't quite put into words.

You nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, a habit you can't seem to shake, and he picks up on it immediately. Sensing your unease, he gently turns you around to face him. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

"Just scared if someone catches us, that's all," you reply, attempting to brush off your deeper worries.

"No, that's not all. I can tell there's something else," he observes perceptively.

Shit. 

"No, I'm okay," you insist, forcing a smile.

"You know you're not very convincing, right?" he counters, his expression softening into a gentle smile. "Seriously, y/n... You can talk to me, you know? I'm here for you."

Your smile turns genuine as you express your gratitude. "Thanks, Megumi," you say sincerely. "It's nothing, really... I'm okay!" Despite your attempt to reassure him, a part of you knows that the unease lingering within won't be easily dismissed.

Just as Megumi was about to speak, the sound of heels walking away from the door interrupted the moment which you both took as an opportunity to slip away unnoticed. Thankfully, the dim lighting and the frenetic energy of the dance floor provided cover for your exit. 

As Megumi took your hand and guided you out of the club, a rush of conflicting emotions surged through you—excitement at being with him, mixed with the nervousness. However, luck wasn't on your side, as your absence from the group didn't go unnoticed. Their curious glances caught you leaving with someone, they just assumed he was just some guy you'd met there since they couldn’t see his face.

As you stepped outside, your phone buzzed incessantly with messages from your group chat.

“Y/n!!! Who’s that guy you’re with 👀” - Maki

“Are you leaving without telling us?!” - Toge

“No fr, she actually full-on left-“ - Yuta

“Y/n got rizzzz 😏” - Itadori

“Whoooo Y/n!!! Get it, girl!” - Nobara

“You better be safe tho 😒.” - Maki 

A giggle escapes your lips as you read through the messages, realizing that your friends have no idea it's Megumi, they think you're going to hook up with some random guy. The absurdity of the situation lightens the tension, and you can't help but find humour in their assumptions. 

You slip your phone back into your pocket and follow Megumi to his car, where he politely opens the door for you before getting in the driver's seat. "Where are we going?" you inquire, a sweet tone lacing your words.

"A spot I know," he replies cryptically, his hand finding its way to rest on your thigh. Your heart flutters at his touch—there's something about it that just feels right. You can't help but revel in the warmth and comfort it brings.

The two of you share easy conversation and listen to music for the rest of the drive through the city streets. Finally, you arrive at the spot he mentioned, greeted by the breathtaking view of the city skyline.

"Wow... how'd you even find this place? It's beautiful," you exclaim, your eyes drinking in the captivating view before you.

Megumi leans back, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "I used to come here often," he confesses. "It's the kind of place I'd escape to, you know, when I needed to clear my head." His words carry a weight of past memories, hinting at the depth of his emotions and the significance of this spot to him.

You turn to face him, curiosity mingled with a hint of sadness in your gaze. "Escape... from what? If you don't mind me asking, of course," you inquire gently, sensing there's more to his story than meets the eye.

“Not something I can easily talk about…”

As Megumi's words hang in the air, you're left staring at him, a mix of disappointment and understanding washing over you. You glance down at your lap, lost in thought, trying to piece together what he might be hiding.

"Not sober at least..." he adds, his tone calm yet cryptic. Your head shoots up in shock and confusion, your eyes widening as you take in the wrap of weed in his hand. 

“Megu-” Before you can voice your protest or confusion, he interrupts you with a commanding tone.

"Open your mouth," he instructs.

"What are y-" you begin to ask, but he cuts you off again. 

"Open," he commands once more, his voice leaving no room for argument, and his gaze unwavering. You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do, but knowing Megumi well enough to understand that resistance is futile. You have no choice but to comply, you open your mouth obediently. 

“Tongue.” He moves the blunt to your tongue, instructing you to wet it.

As you stick out your tongue, you comply with his instruction, moistening the tip as he requested. Your eyes lock with Megumi's, the air between you crackles with intensity as you maintain eye contact, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the space between you. It feels as if time slows down, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the electric energy that pulses between you. Once done, you pull away, returning your tongue to your mouth. With practiced ease, Megumi rolls the blunt between his fingers, expertly crafting it into shape. The scent of the weed fills the air, adding to the charged atmosphere inside the car. He rolls down the window, allowing a gentle breeze to filter into the car. Leaning back against his seat, he brings the blunt to his lips, inhaling deeply. The smoke swirls around him as he holds his breath for a moment before exhaling slowly, releasing a cloud of smoke into the night air. Megumi's expression is relaxed, his gaze distant into the city. 

As you watch Megumi take another hit from the blunt, your mind wanders to the reasons behind his choice to smoke weed. What led him to this point? What prompted him to start in the first place? But before you can dwell on these thoughts for too long, his question snaps you back to reality.

"Wanna hit?" he offers, gesturing the blunt towards you. You hesitate, contemplating his offer. "Oh, uh... I've never smoked a spliff before," you admit, feeling a hint of embarrassment.

He chuckles at your response. "But you've had edibles?" he questions, amusement evident in his tone.

"Yeah... and a pen, but never a blunt," you confess, feeling a bit out of your element.

"That's crazy," he laughs softly. Then, his tone shifts slightly as he asks, "What made you start? If you don't mind me asking."

You pause, considering his question. It's not one you've been asked often or at all really, and you're kinda surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you decide to open up to him, trusting him enough to share a piece of yourself.

“I’d have to take a few hits first” You giggle nervously, feeling a bit apprehensive about taking your first hit from a blunt. Megumi smirks, amused by your response, and offers you the blunt.

"Just inhale as much as you can and hold it for a bit. It might burn a little," he advises, his tone casual yet reassuring. You bring the blunt to your lips and inhale, feeling the smoke fill your lungs. It's harsher than you expected, and you cough slightly as you hold the smoke in, trying to follow Megumi's instructions. 

You exhale and between coughs, you manage to speak, your voice slightly raspy. "You said it'll burn a bit," you joke, trying to lighten the mood despite your coughing fit.

Megumi chuckles at your reaction, finding amusement in your discomfort. "Yeah, just a bit," he replies teasingly, his laughter echoing in the car.

As you take a few more hits from the blunt, the effects of the weed start to kick in, a warm sensation spreading through your body. Your eyes begin to feel heavy, and you can feel a familiar buzz settling in.

After a moment, you pass the blunt back to Megumi, your movements feeling slightly sluggish as the high takes hold. The world around you seems to slow down, colours becoming more vivid and sounds more pronounced. Despite the initial discomfort, you find yourself settling into the feeling, embracing the sense of relaxation and euphoria that washes over you. Megumi accepts the blunt with a knowing smile, understanding the shift in your demeanour as the effects of the weed take hold. 

As you meet Megumi's gaze, you can sense the unspoken question lingering between you, the curiosity etched into his expression. With a deep breath, you gather your thoughts, knowing that he deserves an honest answer.

"It's nothing too serious... I've always just had anxiety," you begin, your voice soft but steady. "And my ex... he started doing drugs with his friends. It started off simple with marijuana, but then it escalated to heavier stuff. He always tried to get me to do it too, but I never did. Which, looking back, I'm glad for."

You pause, the memories of your past relationship stirring up a mix of emotions within you. "We got into this big fight... such a stupid fight," you continue, your voice tinged with bitterness. "He called me names, said I'm useless and dumb, and made it seem like every 'bad' thing was because of my anxiety. He made me believe it was all me, that I was the problem."

Your words spill out in a rush, a torrent of pent-up frustrations and regrets. "Whenever he would lie or cheat, he'd gaslight me and blame it on my overthinking or some other stupid excuse," you admit, your voice trembling with emotion. "He made me at least try marijuana with him, and then... it just became a habit. Every time we would fight or my anxiety would get bad, I would just get high. It was like... a way to escape reality, a way to escape him."

You pause, your throat tight with emotion. "I got drawn to it... felt like I had to constantly be high so I didn't have to deal with life or give too many shits about it," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it was a way to numb the pain, to forget about everything that was wrong in my life. I don't know... but it became an addiction, and I couldn't break free from it."

You fall silent, your words hanging in the air like a heavy weight. "Sorry... I'm just rambling now," you add, feeling a sense of vulnerability wash over you. But despite the fear of judgement, you're grateful for the opportunity to open up to Megumi, to share a piece of yourself with someone who truly cares.

"Y/n... I'm sorry you went through that," he says softly, his voice filled with sincerity and compassion. His words resonate with you, offering solace in a moment of vulnerability. 

You meet his gaze, feeling a sense of gratitude well up within you. "And don't apologize for opening up to me, angel," he continues, his voice gentle yet firm. "I'm glad you told me."

As Megumi speaks, his words wash over you like a soothing balm, offering comfort and understanding in a way you hadn't expected. They remind you that you're not alone in your struggles, offering a beacon of hope in the darkness of your past. You feel a warmth spread through you as he leans in slightly, his hand moving to gently stroke your cheek. His touch is tender, a gesture of empathy and support that helps to ease the tension coiled within you. You lean into his touch, a sense of gratitude wells up within you, grateful for the understanding and support he offers you.

You lean in closer to Megumi's face, a surge of boldness overtakes you, perhaps fueled by the combination of alcohol and weed. All you can think about is the need to feel his lips on yours, to experience the sweetness of his kiss. Closing the distance between you, your lips meet his in a soft, tentative touch at first, before the kiss deepens into a passionate embrace. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of being close to him.

Everything else fades away—the worries, the doubts, the fears. All that matters is the intoxicating sensation of being lost in each other, of sharing a moment of intimacy and connection. And as you melt into his embrace, you realize that this is where you belong, in his arms, wrapped up in the warmth of his love.

In a bold and spontaneous move, you find yourself getting out of your seat and straddling Megumi's lap in the driver's seat. It happens so smoothly, almost as if your body is acting on instinct rather than conscious thought. As you settle onto his lap, you feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through you, mingled with a sense of exhilaration at your own daring.

Placing your hands on his chest, you look into his eyes, a mischievous glint dancing in your gaze. Megumi's surprise is evident in his expression, his eyes widening slightly at your unexpected move. He hadn't anticipated you being so bold, and for a moment, he's taken aback by your sudden closeness.

Megumi's right hand settles on your waist, his touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of warmth coursing through you. Meanwhile, his other hand holds the blunt out of the slightly opened window. You meet his gaze as he slowly trails his eyes over your body. You lean towards his hand holding the blunt, allowing him to guide it towards your mouth. As the blunt hovers before your lips, you take a deep inhale, the smoke filling your lungs with a heady rush.

Once you're done, you pull back slightly, meeting Megumi's gaze and lean in to kiss him, exhaling the smoke into his mouth as your lips meet. It's a heady mix of passion and smoke, the taste of him mingling with the scent of weed.

A smirk forms on Megumi's lips as he savours the moment, his hand still resting on your waist. With a gentle pressure, he draws you closer, deepening the kiss as the intensity between you grows.

You slowly trail your hand down his chest until it rests over his clothed erection. The contact sends a jolt of desire coursing through both of you.

"F-fuck, angel..." he groans out, his voice thick with need and desire. The sensation of your touch drives him wild.

"Not here..." he manages to say, his voice heavy with desire. But you meet his gaze with a playful smile, moving your hand over his clothed cock in a teasing manner.

"Why nottt?" you counter, tilting your head slightly to the side and biting your bottom lip with a mischievous grin. 

Feeling his growing arousal beneath your touch, you tease him further by placing one hand on his waistband while the other moves over his hardened cock. 

"Fuck, you're making it so hard to resist..." he breathes out, his head tilting back slightly in pleasure.

"Then don't resist," you murmur, your voice dripping with desire, as you begin to slowly move your hand in his waistband. But before you can fully proceed, you feel his hand move from your waist to grab your wrist, his grip tightens around you with a firmness that sends a shiver down your spine. His touch is possessive, yet there's a hint of restraint in his hold, as if he's struggling to contain his desire.

"Not here," he says again, his voice filled with urgency and restraint. 

As his words ground you back to reality, you nod in agreement, understanding the need for discretion in the moment. With a sense of reluctance, you withdraw your hands and slide off of his lap, returning to the passenger seat.

He returns his hand on your thigh, a silent gesture of reassurance and connection, before passing you the blunt. You accept it gratefully, taking a few hits as he starts the car and drives back to his place. Rolling down the window, you let the summer night breeze wash over you, mingling with the euphoric effects of the weed and the music playing softly in the background. In that moment, everything feels peaceful, as if the worries and stresses of the world have melted away.

"It really does suck that being high makes you feel this way," you mutter to yourself, the words slipping out almost unconsciously. Despite the temporary escape it provides, you can't shake the underlying unease that comes with relying on substances for relief. 

Megumi hears your words, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes, but he remains silent knowing he's no better when it comes to drugs.

In the quiet of the car ride, you both dwell on your own thoughts, each grappling with your own past pains. 

As Megumi steps out of the car and opens the door for you, his gentle gesture speaks volumes. Taking his hand, you feel a sense of comfort and connection as he helps you out of the car. With your fingers intertwined, he leads you up the stairs to his front door.

The click of the lock echoes as Megumi unlocks the front house door, ushering you inside. A shared sense of relief washes over you both as you step into the familiar surroundings of his home, relieved that your friends aren't here yet to interrupt this moment of peace and privacy.

As soon as you both step inside, Megumi wastes no time. With a swift movement, he shuts the door behind you and then slams his lips onto yours, catching you off guard with his sudden passion. A soft moan escapes your lips as he presses you against the door, his body urgent against yours. His hands move with purpose over your body, igniting a primal desire within you. Responding to his passion, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss.

Your smile against his lips only adds fuel to the fire of desire between you. With ease, Megumi lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around him, feeling a rush of excitement as his hands grip your ass, holding you close.

You giggle softly as he carries you upstairs to his room, enjoying the playful moment together. He shuts the bedroom door with a simple move before gently placing you on the bed. Meeting his gaze, his smirk makes your heart race.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his words making you blush. You glance away bashfully, feeling the heat of his gaze on you.

“But you'd look better with this off” 

Before you can fully process, he's already moving, sliding your dress up and off completely, leaving you exposed to his hungry eyes. His lustful gaze sends shivers down your spine as he takes in every inch of your body.

"God... fucking shit, you don’t know what you’re doing to me," he groans, his desire evident. Without hesitation, he removes your panties, and with a sense of urgency, Megumi eagerly dives in, his mouth on your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch with fervour. He's desperate to taste you, to feel you unravel beneath his touch. His sole focus is making you feel good, making you reach your high, wanting nothing more than to feel you cum all over his face.

The sensation of his tongue against you sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arch your back, moaning in ecstasy as he works his magic, his eagerness evident in every movement. He’s desperate in wanting you to finish fast, to lose yourself in the pleasure he's giving you, Not just because he wants you to feel good, but because he can't hold back any longer... he wants you. No, he needs you.

He's yearning for your touch. His longing is so intense, you can almost feel it radiating from him. He just wants to feel you close, to be wrapped up in the warmth of your embrace, to experience that raw connection between you two. 

He's doing his best to restrain himself, but you make it so fucking hard by the way you look at him, by the way you’re pulling on his hair and grinding your hips against his mouth. Each noise, each moan that escapes your lips, each tug on his hair, sends a jolt of desire straight to his core. 

He slides two fingers into your pussy, curling them up to hit that sweet spot, feeling the urgency building inside him. He needs you to finish, he can’t take it anymore.

"Oh fuck, Gumi, I'm gonna cum," you moan, feeling the pressure building to an unbearable level.

"Fuck, angel, cum for me, yeah?" he groans, his movements becoming faster and more intense.

With his encouragement, you reach the peak of ecstasy, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over you, releasing everything you've been holding back.

As he swiftly removes his pants and boxers, you gaze down in awe at his impressive length. Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of him-so big, so perfect. His dick is long, thick, with a slight upward curve, and it's enough to make your mouth water.

Unable to resist, you reach out and stroke his length, eliciting a deep moan of pleasure from him as he tilts his head back. Using his pre-cum as lubricant, you continue to stroke him, relishing in the sensation of his hardness in your hand.

"Tell me what you want, angel," he breathes out, his voice heavy with desire.

"I just want to make you feel good," you reply softly, your own desire evident in your voice.

"Yeah?" he groans again, his arousal evident as you continue to stroke him.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel even better?" you ask, biting your lip in anticipation.

As you guide his tip to your entrance, he looks down at you with a smirk. "Oh, you're such a tease, babe," he remarks, his tone playful.

You smile back at him, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"You sure?" he asks, his concern evident in his gaze.

All you can do is bite your lower lip and nod, your heart pounding in anticipation.

With your agreement, he slowly pushes his tip into your entrance, watching your facial expression closely for any sign of discomfort.

"If you change your mind, just let me know, kay? I won't be mad, I promise," he says softly, stroking your cheek gently.

"Okay," you manage to mutter as you feel his length enter you, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

You moan as his dick stretches you out, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you with each inch he pushes inside you.

"Fuck, baby, you really are so tight," he moans in pleasure, his voice filled with admiration.

You moan even louder as he continues to stretch you out further, the sensation overwhelming yet intoxicating.

"Takin’ me so well. Think you can take more, baby?" he asks, his desire evident in his voice.

Unable to form proper words, you simply nod your head, your body craving more of him.

He pushes in deeper, until his full length is buried inside you, and then he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size.

"Are you feeling okay, angel?" he asks, concern evident in his voice as he gazes into

your eyes.

"Yes, can you please start moving... I need you," you reply, your desire evident in your voice after finally adjusting to his size.

"Anything you want," he says with a smirk, his eagerness to please you evident in his tone.

He begins to slowly thrust his hips back and forth, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Holy shit, you feel so good, angel," he groans, his voice filled with ecstasy.

You moan in response, the sensation of his dick moving inside you driving you wild with desire.

"Fuck- more, Gumi," you plead, wanting him to pick up the pace.

"Yeah? You want more?" he asks, his voice husky with desire as he speeds up his movements, eliciting even louder moans from you.

"Take it," he commands, lost in the pleasure of the moment, and you find yourself getting even wetter from his words alone.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he murmurs, his head falling to the crook of your neck as you tangle your hand in his hair, lost in the intensity of your connection.

"Oh fuck, Gumiii," you moan out, lost in the pleasure of his movements.

"Good fucking girl," he praises, his words driving you even wilder as he continues to increase his pace.

His dick curves perfectly to hit your spot, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body with each thrust. Your breathing becomes rapid as he continues to hit that sweet spot that drives you crazy, making it hard for you to hold back.

"Fuck, right there, yes!" you cry out in ecstasy, unable to contain your pleasure.

"You like when I fuck you like that, huh, angel?" he asks, his hand moving to your clit and rubbing fast circles on it, intensifying your pleasure even further.

"Oh, yes!" you moan louder, the sensation of his fingers combined with his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

He smirks at your response, his movements becoming even more relentless as he focuses on driving you over the edge of ecstasy. With every thrust, he hits that perfect spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

Your moans grow louder, your body trembling with each touch and stroke. The combination of his deep thrusts and the sensation of his fingers on your clit pushes you closer to the brink of orgasm.

"Fuck, Gumi, I'm gonna cum," you whimper, your voice filled with urgency and desire.

"Go ahead, angel, cum for me, yeah?" he encourages, his voice husky with arousal as he continues to pleasure you.

With his words ringing in your ears, you surrender to the overwhelming sensation building inside you. Your climax crashes over you, every nerve ending ablaze with pleasure as you reach the peak of ecstasy.

He watches you with a satisfied grin, reveling in the sight of your release.

You clench around his dick tightly as you reach your climax, sending a jolt of pleasure through both of you.

"Shit, baby, you're squeezing me so tight," he groans in pleasure, the sensation driving him closer to the edge. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that."

But despite his words, you continue to tighten around him, pushing him closer and closer to the brink. With one final, desperate thrust, he loses control, his body tensing as he spills his hot seeds inside you, his groans of pleasure mingling with yours in the air.

As you both ride out the waves of ecstasy together, he collapses beside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he holds you close, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

"You did so good for me, baby," he murmurs, wrapping you in his arms as he spoons you, his breath hot against the back of your neck.

You smile and giggle at his words, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction spread through you.

Pulling him impossibly closer, you intertwine your fingers with his, squeezing his hands gently as you kiss them.

"Thank you," you whisper softly, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you as you drift off to sleep in his comforting embrace.

"I'll clean you up and get you some water, okay?" he murmurs softly, his voice filled with tenderness as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. You nod sleepily, feeling grateful for his care and attention.

As Megumi makes his way downstairs to grab the waters, he runs into Itadori and the rest of the group returning from the club. They stumble in, clearly intoxicated, except for Itadori, who seems more sober than the others. Everyone greets Megumi with a friendly hello before heading off to their respective rooms to sleep off the night's activities. Maki goes with Nobara, while Yuta and Toge go up to Itadori's room and you? Well... you're obviously in Megumi's... but they don't know that of course.

As Megumi is about to head upstairs, Itadori stops him and pulls him to the side with a serious expression. "Yo, Megumi," he begins, catching Megumi's attention. Megumi turns to face him, a hint of confusion showing on his face. "What's up?"

"You gotta tell her, you know…" Itadori's tone is firm, his eyes locked on Megumi's.

Megumi furrows his brows, trying to understand. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Megumi," Itadori insists, his voice dropping slightly. "I'm not stupid. I saw the hickey on her neck. I know it's from you. And I'm happy for you, man. I'm glad you're both talking again. But seriously, you need to tell her… or else things are gonna get fucked over again."

Megumi meets Itadori's gaze, his mind racing as he processes the gravity of the situation. After a moment of contemplation, he nods solemnly. "Yeah, I will."

it’s funny bc i wrote the first half drunk as then the last half high 😭

in honor of 4/20 😼

no im not a big person on drinking nd smoking but it was a celebration w my friend so yolooo 😗

help high rn as well speak plz dont mind omgg

low-key didnt reread this when sober so i hope it was okay 😃

also i got so lazy to do the messages so plzzz ignore that...

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo

#fushiguro megumi x reader #smau #jjk smau #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #megumi fushiguro #megumi smau #jjk fluff #megumi fluff #fluff #angst #jjk angst #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smau #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #jjk series #fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi fanfic #megumi smut #fushiguro megumi smut

[damiansgoodgirll]

heyy i love ur fics sm!!! was wondering if u could do a damian fic where reader and him are on a plane tg and reader gives him a hand job and damian returns the favor

damian priest x reader

‼️smut so stay away kids

plan b

“i can’t sleep” you groaned next to your boyfriend. you were currently on a long flight going to the uk and, note to say, you hated flying.

not because you were scared, you just didn’t like it. and you were thankful for the little privacy the first class was giving you and damian because you didn’t know how would you have handled being on a ten hour flight in economy class, with all the people talking and kids screaming.

“i’m sorry love…it will be over soon” he smiled at you looking up from the book he was reading.

“can you please share the blanket? i’m starting to freeze with all this air conditioning…” you asked him and he gently opened the blanket a little more to let it pose over your legs.

another ten minutes passed and you harshly threw your phone over the little table in front of you.

damian gave you a questioning look. he knew you could get a little childish during flights, especially long flights.

“i’m so bored…i’m gonna die here i fear” you said, making him laugh.

“just try to close your eyes and sleep a bit mi amor, we’re gonna land soon” he said, scooping you a little into his side.

laying your head over his shoulder and your hands in his lap, a mischievous idea made passed your mind. it’s not like you were trying to be bratty on purpose, even though you liked it, you were just too bored that whatever idea came to your mind was better than die of boredom.

one of your hands moved under the blanket, still resting on damian’s thighs. it’s when he felt you moving lower and lower that he realised what you had in mind and even though he was craving for your touch, he didn’t want to catch the attention of the other passengers.

“what are you doing?” he whispered.

“you know exactly what i’m doing…” you said back while your hand palmed his growing length over his shorts.

“shit” he hissed “we shouldn’t do this here…”

“you don’t want it?”

“i do want it mi amor…what about the people? they will hear us”

“damian everyone is asleep!” you laughed “plus they won’t hear us if you keep your mouth shut” you said before moving your hand into his boxers “we have the blanket over us…they won’t see and they won’t hear us…so sit back and enjoy it big boy” you said kissing his neck softly before starting to slowly move your hand over his length.

it was hard for him to keep it shut, and you knew it too. loving how usually vocal he is in bed, you knew he was trying his best to not make any noise.

“oh fuck…” he moaned into his hand when you moved your hand a little faster, teasing his tip with your fingers “keep doing that”

“i don’t plan on stopping” you whispered into his ear, making him shiver.

your lips touched his neck a few times, kissing the sweet spot behind his ear that you knew would make him crazy.

“i don’t know how much longer i can keep it shut…fuck, what has gotten into you uh?” he asked you, still trying to muffle his moans.

“i was getting bored…”

“oh you should get bored more often” he teased back.

“yes uh?” you moved your hand up and down his length, teasing his tip once again, feeling him shaking into your hand “you close?” you asked and he nodded.

“move your hand or i’m gonna cum on you…”

“i don’t plan on doing so” you moved a little faster, his cum covering your hand.

“how was it?” you asked, knowing the answer already, removing your hand from under the blanket and slowly cleaning the remaining cum on your hand with your tongue, making him moan just looking at you.

“very good…but, you wouldn’t think i would let you go away with this…”

“what you mean?”

“i mean…” his hand now went under the blanket and moved towards your legs “i mean lift that hips up, remove your shorts and panties and spread your legs, because you ain’t safe either mi amor”

you did as he told you. loving this dominant side of him, knowing that you were in for a long night.

#wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe x you #wwe imagines #damian priest #wwe one shot #wwe x oc #damian priest x reader #wwe damian priest #damian priest oneshot #damian priest x oc #damian priest x you #damian priest fanfic #damian priest smut #damian priest wwe #damian priest imagine #wwe damian priest x reader #damian priest x y/n #damian priest x finn balor #damian priest angst #damian priest fluff #damian priest and reader #the judgment day x you #the judgment day one shot #wwe the judgment day

[gwensstar]

FLUFFY LOVING

[ nsfw, catrissa x reader, pet play. . . ]

in a human form, with a pair of snowy ears and a fluffy tail of the same colour, she was sprawled across your lap, the feline need to be pat and scratched taking over, making Larissa bump her head up into your palms as if asking for more. and she got exactly what she wanted, obviously, you seemed to enjoy it just as much as the principal did.

vibrations flowed trough the blonde’s throat, down her chest keeping it all warm. purr purr. “Oh there it is again.” you coed gently not to take the shifter out of her trance. a sound ever so high pitched left her lipstick painted lips, you had just scratched the rich spot right above where the tail met flesh along her spine. droplets of saliva coated the hand that stroked under her chin. pearly white teeth, that rather looked like fangs, appeared. which totally stopped her from purring, freezing in the spot. “Did you drool on me?” your voice sounded hesitant. she only nodded before beginning to ramble out her share of apologies.

a hand came to grip Larissa’s throat and hold her body down in one swift move. “Oh?” embarrassing. that was the correct word, a dark spot between her legs ruined her grey sweatpants; alarming the shapeshifter’s beloved- you - of just how much she enjoyed your fingers dancing over her pristine skin.

“Stay right here pet. Not a single word.” a peck to the headmistress’s lips was given before you slowly walked to the hall. Larissa could hear the sound of you opening the door of your shared bedroom, ruffling trough her things. what a bonus these ears were.

soon there you were, stood in a bathrobe, strap on held nonchalantly in your smaller hand. “What if mommy gave this to you? Hmm?” you hummed. “But first you must show me just how talented that little kitten tongue of yours is.” it took you a few long strides before you sat down like the goddess you were at the moment, spreading your legs open, forcing the bathrobe to fall to sides and allow for your body to be on display. fingers pointed down and so Larissa jumped in front of you , kneeling by your feet. gorgeous eyes piercing trough you as her fingers disappeared between your legs. breathing out, she chuckled as soon as you whimpered. that was silenced soon by her fingers entering my mouth.

“Make mommy happy darling.” and so the shifter started, diving right in. her nose nudging your clit as her talented tongue danced across your private parts. your hand moved to scratch fluffy snowy ears and to hold her in place.

purr purr. vibrations were sent right into your core as Larissa ate you out, her perfectly manicured hands on your thighs, switching between looking up, in hopes to see your angelic face as you moaned for her, and closing her eyes to stick her tongue as deep as she could. there it was— the spongy spot, you were slightly sour, just like grapes that you freshly picked on a summer evening walk by the shore. . . or the greenest apple in the garden of eden, sacred. . .

praises were filling the air as well as sloppy sounds of the blonde’s work and your repertoire of screams and other lustful sounds.

“Right here!”

“Such-such a good thing.”

“My petite fluff ball!”

Riss’ nails dig into your thighs as you tightened your grip on my hair, cumming right into her mouth. precious she looked; all wet and sticky. all happy Larissa swayed her tail from side to side, drinking all the liquor you offered.

catching your breath she could feel your grip softening. purr purr. kissing mommy’s thighs, you reached with your fingers, hooking them under the shapeshifter’s chin, pulling your face upwards. you tasted yourself on her lips, her back shivering within the strong sexual desire held between us. the air was thick with it, making it hard— impossible to breathe. her sweatpants were soaked and the signature up-do ruined.

she haven’t even noticed you tightening the toy around your hips and before Larissa could react, it was already too late, you began to push her head down, mumbling a little ‘open’ before you forced the reddish shaft down the shapeshifter’s throat. “Better than the last time, darling, make it all nice and wet for yourself. We wouldn’t want to hurt my woman.” she seemed to remembered your words from the last time where you told her to breathe trough her nose and so that’s what she did; taking the full length. slowly staring to bob her head, tail wagging from side to side as if a bird just flew around. excitement. rush. “Oh? I see someone was training themselves for mommy?” an eyebrow of yours raised at that. booping her nose you let her know that it’s enough. “Take off your clothes, can you do that for me?” a tiny meow sound slipped out, no words allowed now.

as the last garment hit the ground, your hands were already reaching for her beautiful body, helping her up on your lap, gently pulling her down, one hand holding the shaft rubbing it trough her slick-covered folds. what a feeling. “There you go.” you mumbled as Larissa slid down, a pornographic sound falling from her lipstick covered lips— so very much ruined from all the making out.

gently moving up and down Larissa was soon held down by her hips, them being led to rock backwards and frontwards. purr purr. pure bliss, her eyes closed shut, nails digging into her lover’s shoulders. hungry lips almost swallowing each others.

“A collar with a bell to jingle would fit my baby so nicely.” you smirked as a red spot appeared on her ass cheek. a smack so hard came in contact with Larissa’s flesh. forcing her to cry out in pain. but there she was moving closer. nonverbally begging for more. you repeated, giving into her demands.

you could see it so well. a soft sateen or perhaps silk ribbon around the principal’s neck with a golden jingle bell, bouncing around as well as her freckle covered tits. heavens gate. solar bliss. peak of beauty. — speaking of them, your lips moved to her boobs as you leaned her back, fucking up into her. your tongue swirled around her rose-ish bud, swollen and erected; ready for attention. almost begging for it. that’s what you gave. sucking, licking and teasing, you soon bit it before switching to the other.

poor Larissa was a mess by now, a rag doll, the knot so tight it threatened to break without your permission.

pushing herself away, running from the pleasure that overwhelmed her, Larissa was held in place, hushed and cooed. “Not so fast kitten, cum for me. . . Cum for mommy.”

beep beep. . .

BEEP BEEP!!!

sitting up fast you tried to catch your breath. it hit you, blush covering your cheeks; you dreamed of it again. turning to side, switching the annoying noise of an alarm off before you faced your precious woman, sleeping peacefully next to you. . .

it became a reality that morning, Larissa purred for you that day.

#larissa weems #catrissa #fluffy #larissa x reader #larissa x you #sapphic #larissa weems smut #adult themes #why am i like this

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part Four

Your skills are tested more than ever, and Joel finds a way to thank you for everything you do for Jackson.

Words: 6.2k

Part one | Part two | Part three

Warnings: depictions of childbirth, here there be smut (this chapter is a lot), fingering, praise, Joel is grumpy but horny, Joel has unique ways of showing his appreciation, we continue to stan an apocalyptic grump

Minors DNI

Later, you would be grateful that your makeshift massage table had the good grace to collapse when it was just you on it. You’d been leaning over it, all your weight on one corner trying to set the towels right, when you heard the telltale creak of wood. You yelped as it gave way, landing heavily on your knee and for a moment the pain took your breath away, as you suddenly found yourself crouched amongst the detritus of your usefulness in Jackson. For a long moment you were stunned, your brain trying to catch up, before you felt the tears pricking at the back of your eyes, your jaw aching where your mouth turned down. Your first real thought was that Joel had been right. Your second was that you had no idea how to tally this loss.

You felt helpless, made small and childlike by the shock and the pain, and you wondered if it would mean you’d have to leave Jackson. The town council had been dubious at best but you’d made it in based on Maria’s championing of the cause, and you couldn’t bring yourself now to consider how you would need to survive on your own in the cold, in the dark, realising that the last three months of warmth and safety had made you soft, had dulled your senses. You should never have leant on the table the way you had been, you should never have been so careless. You looked down at your shaking hands.

You saw in them your mother. Your memories of her skin, papery thin across her palms, across her knuckles. How easily she would bruise as her treatment went on, how you went from being able to push down into the sinew to dusting light across the surface, how towards the end all she could tolerate was your fingertips, dragging gentle so as not to tear.

You wiped the tears off your face with your mother’s hands, your own only capable of destruction.

—

The expedition to recover the raider’s stash started the following morning, and you along with most of Jackson went to the gate to see them off. Marla was smiling, riding high on her chestnut horse, her eyes bright and wild looking over the crowd. Your eyes, too, scanned over the faces, your tummy somersaulting with the prospect of seeing Joel. You had no idea if you wanted him to be there, if you were worried that he would speak to you or more worried that he wouldn’t, if he would look through you, keep his eyes empty of any recognition, or if he would stare you down, that same look of naked wanting written clear on his face. You felt your cheeks turn traitorously red at the thought of it, a bolt of something sharp and hot between your thighs. In the time since Maria’s kitchen you had wondered if you had misinterpreted, your mind playing the moment back but this time Joel is disgusted, this time Joel is confused, this time it’s Joel who legs it down the hallway and out into the freezing cold. You found yourself trying to cling to the real memory, trying to hold it safe and fragile in your palm, scared of it and scared of cracking it, brittle little thing that it was.

There were no speeches when Marla and the six departed Jackson. Even Jacob, who you expected to grandstand, was quiet. You spotted Ray on the other side of the street, his eyes never leaving Marla’s back until the gate closes behind her. He looked like he wanted to cry, and you took a step towards him before you saw Simon appear, gripping him by the shoulder and steering him towards the mess hall. You decided not to try and catch up to them, your knee aching from standing so long in the cold.

As you swung around to head home a pair of eyes caught yours, and it took you a moment to recognise that Joel’s daughter was watching you, likely had been quietly regarding you, from her position leant up against a fence post. For a moment you just stared at her, her gaze unwavering and her face unreadable. She looked so small, but so wired, her arms held tight against her body. You recognised it, the perennial fight or flight, and you felt a pang of something sad and hopeful, a flip of the gut. You smiled warmly at her, nodding your head. She hesitated, but nodded back, and disappeared into the dissipating crowd. She may not be Joel’s actual daughter, you thought, but they are so very much the same.

You were halfway home before you heard your name being called, a frantic edge to it that made the hair on your arms stand up. You turned, searching for Tommy and finding him barrelling towards you, stopping only when he can hold onto your arms to steady himself, nearly toppling the both of you in the process.

‘God, what is it?’ you asked, unable to get the fear out of your voice and thinking immediately that something was wrong with Joel, the sinking feeling in your gut dislodging bile snd sending it rushing into your throat.

‘Maria,’ Tommy said, and it’s no better, ‘she’s started…it’s happening and,’ he sucked in another gulp of clean mountain air, coughed for a second like he was choking on it, ‘she’s asked for you,’ he finished.

‘For me?’ You repeated, and now you really heard the panic. Tommy swallowed hard and nodded at you, his eyes big and brown and terrified, and you found yourself moving, heading straight to their house without even considering if this was the sane thing to do. You stopped, suddenly, and Tommy nearly slammed into your back. ‘Wait, did you call on the doctor as well?’ you ask, and Tommy sighed.

‘She doesn’t trust ‘em,’ he said, as if this was in any way a reasonable explanation. ‘She made me promise not to call on him unless it was really needed.’

‘Tommy, she’s having a baby. It’s needed,’ you said, and you watched his face fall. You knew in that moment he would do anything for her, that this was testing him more than anything ever had, and you remembered that this was what family was: throwing yourself under the bus just to properly entertain their nonsense.

‘I’m coming, of course,’ you said, and you saw his shoulders relax. ‘When I say so, you go get the doc. I can be the bad guy,’ you finished. Tommy nodded his head so hard he nearly shook his cowboy hat off, and you were off then, determined to be the sensible one, an Apocalyptic Doula with nothing but a twenty-year-old knowledge of human anatomy and a shattered massage table.

You had only just stepped onto the front porch when you heard the low moan, and you felt your stomach twist. Turning back to look at Tommy you saw the way his mouth was set firm and grim in a line, the way he searched your eyes for some kind of reassurance. You had attended a birth once, in the QZ, and it had happened in the bathtub out of fear that FEDRA would cart the woman off and cut her open rather than waste ether on her, waste the time of properly welcoming a new life into a dead world. That baby had arrived squawking and angry, an entirely appropriate response, and you had stood behind the midwife holding the towels and trying not to look at the remnants of what had brought him here. This was the limit of your qualifications, and looking back at Tommy’s pinched face you realised it would have to be enough.

You forged on, reaching down into your gut and pulling some strength from somewhere around your tailbone. In the entry way your eyes adjusted to the dark.

‘She wanted the curtains drawn, wanted the dark’ Tommy explained behind you, and you thought immediately of an injured cat seeking out the damp privacy under a house to tend to its wounds, to face the horror of its own mortality away from prying eyes.

‘That’s good, it’s calming,’ you said, and you saw how soundly this reassured him, two breaths from full blown panic as he was. ‘Do you have towels?’ you asked, and he scurried off to get them, grateful to have something to do.

In the living room Maria was on her knees, leaning over the arm of the sofa and resting her head in the bend of her arms. For a second you thought she was praying, but you heard her deep breaths in and out through her nose and you realised she had retreated somewhere inside herself, the pain sending her reeling back from her own skin. You got in behind her, hissing as you leant on your bad knee, and pushed your hands into the small of her back, over her hips, supporting her pelvis as it worked to expand enough to let the baby through. She sighed, relaxing into you, so that you held some of her weight in your arms.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘I knew you could help.’ You felt a twang of pride inside your ribcage, and you hummed your acknowledgment to her.

‘How long?’ you asked, and she sighed.

‘Feels like months,’ she said, turning slightly towards you. You took the opportunity to reposition her, sliding your arm under her belly to round her spine out, and she groaned in relief. ‘Had been feeling something for the last day or so, nothing regular, I thought false labour maybe?’ She stopped speaking for a second and you watched as her belly seized, felt the ripple of muscle under your palm. You went back to rubbing hard circles into her hips as she breathed through it, finding that you matched her, that you sucked the air in as she did, shared it between you, caught yourself in the moment of relief when she slumped back against you. ‘Lost my plug around dinner last night, though, waters this morning.’

You did some rough calculations in your head, considering this and by the way she was still able to speak, you estimated she wasn’t even halfway there. You steeled yourself for hours and hours of this, felt a sliver of panic slice at your windpipe.

‘Why haven’t you called the doctor?’ you asked, and she huffed out a tired, joyless laugh.

‘You’ve seen him,’ she said, and you had - when you had quarantined on arrival, and as soon as you’d seen him you’d wanted to make a Dougie Houser joke, but you had realised he would be even too young to know the reference. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he tried to check your pulse in your elbow.

‘I’ve done this once before,’ she said, and you fought hard against the instinct to ask for more, to mask your surprise. She was quiet for a moment, gently circling her hips in the air. ‘I know I’m asking a lot,’ she said, and you heard the doubt in her voice.

‘Not too much,’ you reassured her, ‘but I reserve the right to call an actual professional if required.’

Maria snorted through her nose. ‘Let me know if you find one,’ she said.

—

Maria laboured into the afternoon, sometimes kneeling, sometimes pacing, sometimes lying on the sofa with a pillow between her knees. You kept her cool, collecting her sweat in a damp towel and handing it off to Tommy to rinse, the stressed soon-to-be-father hovering always in your peripheral view. Occasionally he would ask you how things were progressing, as if you had a magic wand or an invisible ultrasound machine, but Maria eventually got tired of him asking and snapped at him to shut it, that no one had any idea. It wasn’t the reassurance he was looking for.

As the sun set Maria started to get more agitated, finding it hard to get comfortable in any position. Unable to carry her full weight, you had Tommy come over and hold her up while she groaned and swore into his neck. You could see that she was tiring, made worse by the fact that there was no clarity on how much longer it would be, how much longer it should be, that the three of you were holding your breath trying to figure out if danger was lurking around the corner, like it so often was.

She had taken to letting out her breath in long moans, the sound almost mournful, as you and Tommy took turns to sway with her, as you held her hand, as you patted her hair back away from her face. Occasionally you would look into her eyes and see that she was barely there, that the pain had now stolen her away completely, that she had left her body to do its work without her tagging along for the ride. Only occasionally would she speak to refuse medical attention, and then not again for minutes at a time.

It was around this point, when the moaning became constant, when it appeared that there was no Maria in the room, that Tommy swore under his breath, gathered his coat and stomped out the front door. Maria didn’t look up from her position slumped over the back of the couch and you didn’t mention it to her, hoping that Dougie was ready to earn his keep.

Ten minutes later you heard the door open again and two sets of footsteps, calling over your shoulder that you hoped he’d brought the good drugs. You heard a laugh, a huff of a thing that froze you on the spot.

‘If I had those ya reckon I’d be here?’ Joel asked, and you wondered if this would be the thing that finally sent you careening over the edge: opening a pregnant woman’s hips with your hands while the man you had a raging crush on sassed you from the doorway.

‘Tommy?’ you asked him as he appeared behind his big brother, eyes anxiously roaming over Maria.

‘Joel has seen this before,’ he said, not looking at you so not seeing the look of surprise on your face that you quickly wiped from your features, your eyes flitting to Joel to see if he he’d caught you and knowing, in your guts just knowing, that he had. ‘I figured he could tell us if it’s going ok.’

You couldn’t help a little ripple of unearned indignation at this, and you informed them that you had it under control. It was difficult for them to hear, though, as this was also the moment Maria chose to bend further at the hips, brace her knees, and bellow from deep within her soul.

Joel regarded this silently for a moment. Tension hung in the air while you all waited for his assessment. ‘Totally normal,’ he said, as if Maria hadn’t just unleashed a screaming banshee from the fifth circle of hell. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

‘No, stay,’ Tommy said, too quickly, stepping towards Maria and rubbing sweet but ineffectual circles on her shoulder. ‘I mean, you can…if things get…’

‘You can stand at the business end with a catcher’s mitt,’ Maria said, from somewhere under her own elbow, shrugging off Tommy. You grinned, falling just a little bit more in love with her by the minute.

‘Tried a bath?’ Joel asked, and you were about to offer to start drawing it when Maria shook her head.

‘Too narrow,’ she said, sounding breathless but resolute. ‘Need her with me and we wont both fit.’ You beamed at this, unable to stop yourself turning to Joel feeling just a little smug. You’d been at this for hours and he thought he could come in and fix it in five minutes? He cocked a knee and put a hand on his hip, and you could see that in any other situation he would have rolled his eyes. As you looked away you just caught his little grin in your peripheral vision.

He turned to Tommy. ‘I really don’t know what I can do here,’ he said, but Tommy stopped him.

‘Just stay,’ he said, and you realised that he was appealing to his older brother to stick by him, that he was telling Joel that he felt safer with him there. You realised that Joel, as gruff and stoic as he was, was comfort for Tommy. You realised that you agreed.

—

You tried to get Maria to eat some dry bread around dinnertime but she refused it, tired and sweaty and back deep inside herself. Tommy brought out ice chips from the freezer for her to chew on and you avoided looking at them for too long, the memory of the cold across your teeth as you held Joel by the wrist too strong, and too ill-fitting for what lay ahead of you. You studiously avoided Joel’s eyes, only glancing up long enough to see that he, too, was avoiding what Tommy held in his hand.

Around 10 pm Maria started wanting to retreat up to the bedroom, and you followed her up the stairs slowly to make sure her legs wouldn’t give out. It took three contractions to get up there, her face screwed up tight against the bannister, bracing herself against the wall, and when she reached the landing she wailed that she couldn’t do it anymore, that she wasn’t strong enough. At the bottom of the stairs you heard Joel inform Tommy that she was close, that it was time for the doctor. He slipped away into the night to bring him, while Tommy helped hoist Maria onto the mattress. Within moments she was up again, on all fours and howling, as you encouraged her to swing low into her hips, to drop down and let her pelvis open. She told you, rightfully, to fuck off.

‘Do you need to push?’ you asked her, thinking back to the delivery you saw in the bath in the QZ, racking your brains trying to remember how the midwife handled it.

‘I don’t know, I don’t know,’ Maria cried, and you reached out to wrap your hand around your wrist.

‘I think that means no,’ you said, trying to scrounge together some confidence to push into your voice. ‘I reckon you’ll know when you feel it.’ Maria nodded at you, her head bent back to look at you through her armpit, and you gave her what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

‘You can do this,’ you said, and you knew, looking at her on all fours on her mattress, hair wild and matted and eyes now shut tight against the pain, primal and urgent and so incredibly strong, that it was true.

You felt a hand on your arm gently pulling you away, and you stood to see Dougie Howser at the end of the bed. You repositioned yourself so that Maria could see you, sat at the headboard and let her rest her head on your shoulder. You looked over to see Tommy getting down on his knees to lean beside her, Joel in the doorway watching on. His eyes met yours and for a moment the world was silent. An understanding seemed to pass between you, that what you were witnessing was sacred and precious, but that it belonged to the people in front of you, that it was not for either of you to share.

‘Ok,’ Dougie said, and you were surprised his voice didn’t break as he spoke. ‘We’re close but we’re not quite there yet.’ It bothered you that he said ‘we’ as if he was also writhing on the bed howling in agony, but the one functioning synapse you had left advised you now was not the time to point this out.

Maria groaned when she heard this, turning her head to Tommy and panting, as he rested his forehead on hers. You were close enough that you could hear her urgent whisper to him that she couldn’t do it, that it was going to split her open, and the way that he soothed her, how he held the back of her head and whispered words of love and courage, how he knew she was hurting but that she could do it, how he loved her, more than anything, but how much in awe of her he was that she was going to make him a dad. You felt heat in the back of your eyes, swallowing sour across your throat, the intimacy of the moment so breathtaking that you wanted to turn away from it, even as it played out almost entirely in your lap. You looked over Tommy’s back to Joel, saw that he had heard it too, that he had witnessed this moment, saw the way he stood steadfast in the face of such naked love. Saw that he was holding your gaze, letting you borrow some of his strength to carry you through it, to be able to resist the instinct to shy away.

‘Oh!’ Maria suddenly exclaimed, her eyes wide as she snapped her head up to look at you. ‘I have to push!’ You watched as Dougie ducked down behind her again, busied himself underneath her, before returning to the surface and nodding to Tommy that it was time. Your remaining synapse again advised you not to point out that he had just said she wasn’t there yet, then promptly joined all your other brain cells in death.

‘Ok baby,’ Tommy said, and Maria reared up then, swinging her legs down so that her knees were back on the floor, her elbows digging into the mattress. You reached out and held her hand.

‘Can she do it like this?’ Tommy asked and you answered for Dougie, knowing the answer almost innately, not wanting him to try and put her on her back.

‘Let gravity help,’ you said. ‘Let her do it how her instincts tell her to.’

In the end, Joel didn’t need a catcher’s mitt. Maria and Tommy’s baby boy slid into his father’s hands and onto his chest, the younger Miller gasping with awe and love while the very youngest Miller gave his dad a piece of his mind. The shrill cries were somehow the sweetest thing you had heard, somehow a symphony of life and resistance, and you found yourself surging with hope at the sight of him, wiggly and squirming and covered in goo. Joel appeared with the towels and Tommy wrapped him up, while you helped Maria back onto the bed and into a comfortable position. You backed away then, over to the doorframe where Joel had stood vigil for so long, letting the new parents luxuriate in their first moments with their creation. After a few moments Joel came and stood by your side and you almost let yourself reach out, take his hand in yours, so awed were you by the events of the last twelve hours.

—

Joel offered to walk you home and you let him, the adrenaline retreating to leave just plain exhaustion in its wake. You had been wired right up until you pulled your coat on, the warmth of it reminding your tired bones of the need for rest.

‘Oh my god,’ you said, as Joel pulled Maria’s door shut behind you and ushered you down the front steps. He smiled at your tired excitement.

‘Somethin’, right?’ he asked, and you just nodded, didn’t have the words, couldn’t find them even as you jumbled through your brain.

‘She was amazing,’ you replied, your breath fanning out in front of you in the midnight chill.

‘She had a good team,’ he replied, and you grinned back at him.

The walk back to your house was only a few minutes, but with each step the exhaustion and the cold got in under your clothes and held you hard and bony by the knee. You’d managed to ignore the pain of it when Maria needed you, but now the ache had settled in. You started to limp.

‘What’s that about?’ Joel asked you, nodding towards your feet.

‘Oh I hurt my knee, you were right, the massage table did come down.’ You were focussed on your feet in front of you, trying hard to slide on the ice, so you yelped a little in surprise when Joel grabbed your arm snd stopped you.

‘You hurt?’ he asked, and in his eyes you saw genuine worry. He faltered, collecting himself. ‘Was anyone hurt?’ he tried again.

‘No it was just me,’ you said, and you turned away from him to keep walking, hearing his footsteps quicken to catch up with you. Your eyes were stinging from the cold and the weight of the day. ‘I was, am, so grateful to Tommy for finding it for me but the table was huge, I had to climb onto it to get the towels right each time, and it was hard to get into a good position sometimes so I had to kind of lean over to get at someone’s shoulders…’ you pantomimed this in thin air, raising one leg up to demonstrate how you would need to contort yourself, and nearly slipped. Joel grabbed you by the armpit to steady you, grunting as you leant on him. ‘Sorry,’ you said, wondering if the fatigue had made you delirious. ‘Slippery,’ you helpfully clarified, as Joel nodded once at you but didn’t let you go.

You expected him to drop you at your front door, but he followed you onto the porch and down your corridor. It felt strange, having just witnessed the miracle of life, to throw him out straight after, so you didn’t, listening to him shuck off his jacket and hang it by the door. He stopped at the doorway of your treatment room, regarding the mess of splintered wood on the floor.

‘Yeah, I know. I’ll clean it up, it’s just really heavy,’ you said and you weren’t sure if you meant the weight of the wood, exactly. You sighed, heading into the kitchen and then stopping when you remembered what tends to happen when you and Joel sit down at a table, and doubled back to flop down on your sofa. You lifted your knee and started rubbing at it over your jeans. You heard the floorboards creaking under Joel’s feet as he continued to inspect the damage in your treatment room.

‘You want some tea?’ you called our to him after a while. He appeared over your shoulder, grinning when he saw you slumped into the cushions.

‘Reckon if I did I’d have to make it myself,’ he said, and you closed your eyes snd hummed your agreement. Instead, he came and sat down next to you, his weight nearly causing the rusted springs to collapse you into him. You watched his eyes roam your meagre belongings.

‘Wood was rotting through at the top of the legs,’ he said after a while. You rubbed absently at your knee and nodded. ‘Tommy wouldn’t have checked, he ain’t careful. Back on the old job sites I spent half my time checking his work, correctin’ his mistakes before the boss got onto em.’

‘He’s lucky to have you,’ you said, honestly. He looked over at you, and you thought you saw the faintest hint of pink under his patchy beard. You wanted to pull him to you and nip on the skin. You swallowed.

‘That botherin’ ya?’ he asked, and you panicked for a second that he knew what you’d just been imagining, before you realised he meant your knee. You nodded, and he grunted in acknowledgement.

‘Show me what to do,’ he said, and your breath caught in your throat.

‘What?’ you asked, frozen in place next to him. He was avoiding your gaze, but he slipped an arm behind you and pulled you over to the coffee table, so that you sat facing him, squarely between his knees. He put his hands on your shin, and you just managed to hold in a gasp.

‘Show me,’ he said, nodding down to his hands.

Your mouth was bone dry, your throat threatening to collapse in on itself. His hands were so warm, scorching through your jeans. ‘Umm…’ you started, taking a second to catch your breath. He waited patiently for you to continue, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth on the inside of your knee. ‘Well, I landed right on it so you don’t want to really massage the knee cap,’ you started, casting your eyes down to your leg where it felt almost safe. ‘It’s better to try and move some of the fluid, support the tendons around it because they got a bit of a sudden stretch as well.’

He made a sound in his throat to indicate he was listening, moving his hands to brace either side of your knee.

‘It’s really about gripping around the back of the leg while you kind of make little circles with your thumbs,’ you said, demonstrating with your own hands in front of your face. ‘Sometimes I imagine it’s like I’m smearing toast on butter,’ you went on, and he huffed out a quiet laugh.

‘You butter your toast with your thumbs?’ he asked, gently ribbing you again.

‘And what if I do?’ you shot back, pretending to be offended. He smiled, returning to his work.

‘This good?’ he asked, and you hummed. ‘What about here?’ he asked, moving his hands above your knee and holding firm. He let out a shaky breath and you watched his face as he kept his eyes trained on his hands. The heat from them was scorching, and you felt sweat break out on the back of your neck. ‘Can I do anything here?’

You wanted to laugh, a giggle forming in your chest and threatening to pop out into the air between you. You wanted to tell him he could do anything anywhere, but you gripped hard on the edge of the coffee table and steeled yourself.

‘Same thing but just rather than circles try and kind of push down towards the knee.’ His grip was firm, his hands so strong. You held your jaw shut tight, not sure whether you wanted to laugh or scream, the wings brushing so hard against the inside of your ribcage now you wouldn’t have been surprised if the feather started to strip away, if you opened your mouth and coughed them up onto the rug.

‘I gotta tell ya, I thought you were lyin’ about going to school for this,’ he confessed, and your attention snapped back to the man in front of you. ‘You must have been young on outbreak day,’ he said, and you nodded. ‘But I saw how you were with Maria tonight I…I knew it then. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.’

‘It’s ok,’ you said, your voice quiet. ‘I was young, but my mum…when I was 15 she got…and she needed so much medical help, one of the things that they said would help with the chemo was…so I went to school for it on the weekends and…I helped her.’ You were aware you had yet to finish a full sentence, but your poor brain was scrambling to understand what was happening, had been scrambling all day. You saw again your mother and father standing at the kitchen sink peeling potatoes, your mother’s favourite knitted beanie covering her head. Honey I’m going to Jackson. See if I care.

You came back into the room, your mind drifting back to the man in front of you, who was watching you openly now, his hands still on your knee.

‘So beautiful,’ he said, almost to himself. You felt heat bloom across your chest. ‘Doin’ so much for so many people. Will you let me do something for you?’

Your vision blurred, your eyes watery, and you nodded, suddenly shy. He stood and tugged you up into standing, coming forward to support your weight, his lower hand on your back and your nose buried in his shoulder. You felt him grip the button of your jeans, popping it open with one hand.

‘Take these off baby, so I can take care of you,’ he said and your fingers moved of their own accord, pushing the denim off your legs and down to your feet, where he helped you step out of them. He sat you back down on the coffee table, getting onto the floor in front of you, inspecting your now naked knee as he held it in his hands. His bare skin on your bare skin, his pulse against yours.

He clicked his tongue at the sight of the purple and yellow bruise blooming across it. ‘Poor little thing,’ he cooed, bending down to place a feather light kiss on it, his hand gripping the back of it, his fingers digging into the flesh of your inner thigh. You broke out in shivers, temporarily unable to speak, letting out a breathy whimper when he moved his hand up to pull you towards him, the edge of the table digging into your bottom. ‘I know, baby,’ he hummed, his voice gravelly and dipped in sin. Your cunt throbbed in time to your thundering pulse, the heat between your legs unbearable, making you want to squirm, but he held you fast.

‘Can I do anything here?’ he asked, moving his hand up, his other mirroring his actions on your other thigh, his fingers close enough to brush against your panties but he stayed achingly far from your centre. He pulled your thighs apart, making room for himself as he shuffled forward. You shook your head, willing him closer, higher and further, inside. ‘No?’ he asked, pretending not to understand, and you nearly cried out. The ache was unlike anything you had ever experienced, the heat and the pulse of it stopping you from forming any kind of cogent thought.

He moved his hands to bracket your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on the crest of the bone, and you keened, staring imploringly into his sparkling brown eyes. If he was going to continue to torture you, you were not going to stand for it, the moment you regained your ability to move.

‘I’m sorry, baby,’ he said, but the bastard didn’t mean it. ‘You’re so good to us, so good to this town. I won’t tease ya.’

And he didn’t, then, slipping his hands under your underwear and running his fingers up against your dripping seam. You gasped, rocking your hips into his hand, as he circled your clit with one hand and pushed two strong, thick fingers into your cunt. He watched your face as you screwed your eyes shut, the pleasure almost painful in its entirety, sending sparks into your fingertips and down to the tip of your tongue. You heard the hoarseness of your voice as you cried out into the quiet of your living room, your hands flying to grip Joel’s flannel shirt.

‘Joel!’ you gasped, genuinely surprised by the way he had set your entire nervous system ablaze.

‘Sssh,’ he said, ‘I know baby, I know.’ He manoeuvred his hands inside your underwear, stretching the stitching almost to breaking point, and you didn’t fucking care if he destroyed every piece of clothing you owned, would ever own.

‘Take them off, take them,’ you muttered, pulling at them to get free, suddenly feeling the cotton too tight across your hips. He gripped them, stripped you of them in one swoop, barely missing a beat as he pumped in and out of you.

‘So good to me, so good to us,’ he muttered, his eyes watching the contortions of your face as he systematically took you apart. ‘Slipping that ice into that mouth,’ he added, and you would have been shy about it except that you were currently spread open on yet another table, every breath pushing you closer to toppling over the edge.

You felt your cunt gripping, your weight now bearing down on his hand, as you reached forward and grabbed him by the wrist, pushing him further into you, to graze against the spongey spot you could never reach yourself.

‘Oh, fuck, baby,’ he said, as you moaned high and tight, ‘show me how you like it, show me how to help you.’

‘There, there,’ you whimpered, the weight in your pelvis heavy now, the heat expanding out into your limbs, the speed of it breathtaking, as if all your life you had been waiting for this one man to touch you. ‘Please,’ you added, a gasping benediction to nothing in particular.

When you came, hips circling Joel’s pumping hand, your own grasped in his shirt, head thrown back to the ceiling and eyes shut tight, you forgot for a moment. Forgot to tally your losses, to keep the running sheet in your head of grief and of fury. Forgot the world had ended, taking with it first your family, then your home, and then your self. Forgot for a moment the dying light over the mountains surrounding Jackson, the cold and the bite of winter nipping fast into your bones. For a moment you floated, anchored as you were to the world by Joel’s touch, his breath hot on your neck as he repeated and repeated and repeated your name.

Taglist: let me know if you want me to add you!

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@littlemisspascal

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller

[layersofsymbolism]

You cling to him, keeping your breathing controlled as the hot length of him nudges you, gradually parting your swollen petals, opening you around him like the flower welcomes the heat of the sun. You tilt your hips upward, matching his angle to ease the delectable intrusion. He feels even larger here than he did in your mouth or hands. He laces his fingers through yours, both holding you down posessively and watching you closely for any sign of discomfort. An inch. Two. An intense stretch, the ridges slipping inward as he moves, fluttering your sensitive labia and rippling against your walls. His shaft widens further as he approaches halfway inside you, challenging you to keep your expression from betraying the shock of the acute ache he is causing in your body. Something on your face betrays you anyway, and he stops, brushing your hair back with his other hand and looking at you with concern.

"Is it painful?" He asks huskily, biting his lip.

"In a good way." You admit, letting out a shaky breath. "Don't stop. I want it all."

You shift slightly, wrapping a leg around his upper thighs and pulling him deeper into you. His groan is ragged, his body quivering with the effort to avoid sheathing himself completely in one hard thrust. You lean up and kiss him deeply, running the nails of your free hand down his back. He grunts, struggling with himself as your fingers find the delicate rayed bones of his vestigial wing. He endures your kisses down his jaw and throat, but when you moan and sink your teeth into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, he loses the battle. With a feral snarl, his hips drop, and he hilts inside you, dragging a strangled cry from you and a tearing gasp from him. He freezes. Motionless except for his rough breathing, the light in his eyes pulsing with the same throbbing rhythm of his manhood buried impossibly deep in your body.

"Am I hurting you?" He asks, breathlessly, "I can stop, you don't have to..."

You hush him with a kiss. "Quit fussing. You feel marvelous. It's just... a little more than I anticipated." You hope your stare matches the intensity of his own, though you know that's hardly possible. Even less possible is disguising the reedy wheeze with which the fullness of him colors your words. "I said I wanted all of you, and I meant it." You draw a shuddering breath. "Don't hold out on me, hellrider. Give me everything you have."

Amazingly, he chuckles softly and kisses you with an aching sweetness. His fingers tighten on your hand, your shoulder. "Very well." He leans down, and his voice is a dark, heavy whisper in your ear, "I will, but you may regret that, my dear."

#bg3 zevlor #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #nsft #afab reader #part 8

[honeybcj]

Regulus being eaten out by barty and James at the same time, thoughts?

it’s an immediate yes for me. james and barty are butting heads so fucking bad. they Hate each other, but they’re doing this for reg. but this Hate really just stems from undeniable pent-up sexual frustration. so reg, the smart guy he is, is like, “you both can have a go at it. wouldn’t that be nice, hm?” they’re skeptical at first, practically staking claim on each of regulus’ legs. they pay close attention, james and barty keeping their distance from each other, but kissing, licking, sucking, and biting all up reg’s legs. at some point, reg just huffs, fed up with their inability to coexist and collaborate. he’s like, “come on now, a taste for the both of you. you don’t even have to take turns. go for it.” james ends up situated between reg’s legs, barty on reg’s side, holding his leg open. it’s a fight between barty and james, tongues going at it. barty pays close attention to reg’s clit, and james fucks reg with his tongue. eventually they just get a little sloppy, and finally their tongues brush and they freeze. the whole world explodes behind their eyes and they devour reg, eating him out until he’s shaking a sobbing, taking turns spitting onto his cunt, slipping in a couple fingers, maybe even one of each of their fingers. with the taste of reg on their mouths, james and barty both cave, barty straddling james’ lap and their making out sloppy style. reg is just like “fucking finally”, while casually fingering himself while barty and james grope at each other, all violent and too many teeth, nipping and biting until their pants are off and they’re feverishly jerking each other off, panting into each other’s mouth.

#han’s asks #jartylus #james potter #regulus black #barty crouch jr.

[lilithland]

imagine you wake up in a dark room, scared and confused, your hands are tied together above your head, your legs are spread apart on a metal bar

you look down and are horrified, all of your clothes except your panties have been removed, you’re freezing, your nipples painfully hard

you go to scream but find a ball gag in your mouth, you start struggling against the chains, sobbing

a large man walks in

“oh, is my cocksleeve finally awake?”

you look up at him and he takes in your disheveled state

“i’m gonna turn you into my perfect little fuck doll and i’m gonna start by breaking in your tiny cunt and tight ass”

you struggle against the chains more and he groans at the sight, he approaches and you realize just how absolutely humongous he is, you’ve never been more scared in your life

he pulls your panties to the side

“is my dirty whore already wet?”

there’s no way

but as his fingers start to slide between your juicy lips you can feel how leaky you are

he slips two massive fingers inside of you, already creating a stretch

he goes slow, finger fucking you like he has all the time in the world, your stomach fills with dread because he does have all the time in the world, you’re completely at his mercy

he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you moan around the gag causing drool to drip onto your exposed tits

you’re humiliated and horrified with yourself, you leak around his hand

he painfully twists one of your nipples causing you to groan, drip, and drool again

he adds a third finger in without warning and it feels like you’re about to be split open

he fucks his fingers in and out of your crying cunt at an abusing pace until suddenly they’re gone

you moan around the gag, dripping more at the humiliation of your own body’s betrayal

“don’t worry, you’ll be filled right back up little girl”

you struggle against the chains more, frantically shaking your head back and forth as he pulls his dick out

he’s huge, you don’t even think the tip would fit, let alone his entire length

“don’t worry sweetheart, daddy’s gonna make it fit”

he approaches you and starts to rub his tip up and down your pussy lips, collecting your juices and causing you to leak even more

despite your wetness, when he does finally decide to push his tip in, it doesn’t go in first try

he grabs your hips and slowly forces his tip into your unwilling hole

when he finally shoves his tip inside you want to scream, already feeling torn open

“look at your girl juices running down my cock, you’re just begging to be stuffed full babygirl”

he takes his time feeding his cock into your inferiority hole inch by excruciating inch

just when you think there can’t possibly be more cock he forces another inch in

his tip touches your cervix and you thrash around wildly, accidentally forcing yourself down on his dick a little more

you feel impossibly full, like your fuck hole is going to rip in two

“i think that’s as far as you’re gonna take me tonight princess, tsk tsk, we’ll have to keep cock training you until you can take my full length”

he grabs your chin and yanks it so you’re forced to look at his cock crammed in your impossibly tight pussy

there’s at least two or three inches that aren’t sheathed in you

you clench around his cock when you see just how torn apart your pussy lips are, you sob harder, feeling absolutely ruined

he pulls his dick all the way out until just his tip is left inside, he slams his cock back into you without warning, setting a brutal pace as he r4pes your tight whore hole

he grips your hips so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises, your titties flop around with each thrust

he removes one hand from your hip and starts brutally rubbing your engorged clit, you throw your head back, drool slipping past the gag

you’re so overstimulated, the line between pain and pleasure blurring

you feel your cunt fluttering around his cock, he does too

“that’s right squeeze my dick baby, you love being my cocksleeve, you love that i chose you to kidnap and to r4pe, eventually you’re going to be begging me to r4pe and breed your holes over and over again everyday”

his words disgust you but your body doesn’t care

you cum so hard you see stars

he pulls his dick all the way out and you scream around your gag, drool running all down your body by this point

he harshly grabs your jaw and forces you to look down at his dick covered in your cream, the proof of the orgasm you just had

“look how much my dirty fuck doll enjoyed being r4ped”

you clench around nothing, your pussy is gaping so much you don’t feel his cum leaking out of your abused hole

“now let’s see if we can use some of this cum to get into your tight ass, i want to see both fuck holes gaping by the end of the night”

#bimboification #bimbo training #use me pls #bimbo doll #dumb slvt #dumb wh0re #corruption kink #daddy's good girl #dumbification #r4p3 kink #r4pepl4y #r4p3b4it #r4p3 fantasy #r4p3 m3 #send me threats #rough cnc #cnc kidnapping #cnc k!nk #nsft concept #c0cksleeve #c0ckslut #cvmdump #cvmslut #cr3ampie #wet and creamy #size k!nk #size difference

[selineram3421]

здраствуйте можно сделать реакцию на ревность аластора

Translated:

Hi, can I get a reaction to Alastor's jealousy?

Yes.

Jealousy Headcanons

Alastor X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ platonic to romantic, violence, all caps in bold italics = SOUND EFFECTS, implied torture/murder, gore? eyeballs, possessive? Alastor wants all of your attention ⚠

Alastor has never felt jealous! How absurd of you to think that! Hahaha! Ha... Who is that demon taking up your attention?

He always had your attention.

You could be talking to the Princess but still focus on him.

Hell, you could be checking in a guest and still keep up with his tale of the day.

But now it was quite odd.

There was a demon coming by the hotel, not to see if they were interested in the cause but to use up his friend's precious time.

Even now the beastly thing walked up to the check in counter and started up a conversation with you.

He watched from the bar.

"Hey! I see its dead as ever in here.", the dragon demon grinned as they leaned on the counter.

"Not true~", you had replied. "I checked in four new guests!"

Yes, you had a knack of persuasion. Able to convince many to do almost anything. Sometimes even him.

"Oh yeah? How many sinners walked in?", the scaled creature leaned close.

Far too close for his liking.

"I just told you how many.", you replied and placed a finger on the dragon's snout, pushing them back as well. "Personal space."

He didn't like this demon.

Everything about them set something off. Their manners, their way of speaking, the way they move-

"Oh come on, I don't bite sugar cake~", the beast took your hand and kissed their way up to your elbow.

The way they t̵̬̥̻͂̿̈́ȏ̴̒͠u̸c̷̈́̊̆́̓͘h̷e̴̖̖͒̓͂͋̎ḑ̴̣̋͜ you.

"Nope!", you yanked your arm away and held it close. "None of that.", you laughed nervously with an uncomfortable smile.

It looked wrong. Your smile should be a happy one.

"I said I don't bite!", they laughed and tried to grab at your arm again. "You know I'm messing! When's your break?", they leaned over the counter, still trying to get at something to pull you closer. "I know a good bar to go to, or we can go to the club! I'd like to see your ass in something a little less-"

"Ew, no.", you rejected and backed away.

"Come on!", they started to climb on the counter. "Its just one time! I'll even help you get in and out of your clothes.", they grabbed onto your sleeve.

That's ENOUGH!

He quickly shadow traveled and snatched the wrist of the dragon.

"I believe they said no."

The beast growled with a sneer before looking at him, freezing up once realizing who had their wrist.

"I was just joking man. Haha..", the dragon looked between him and you. "I understand! I'll back away. The slut is yours."

"Excuse me!?", you said angrily.

His antlers grew, the low static that hummed now raising up in volume.

"₵₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ⱤɆ₱Ɇ₳₮ ₮Ⱨ₳₮?"

"The slut-"

SNAP

He held the demon's snout shut as they screamed and cried over their broken wrist.

"Now, there is a no killing rule in the hotel.", he said and then grinned menacingly. "But that doesn't apply outside."

His smile widened after seeing the panic in their eyes.

"Dear.", he turned to face you. "Has this guest overstayed their welcome?"

You stared at the beast with such a terrifyingly hateful glare.

"Yes they have.", you replied, crossing your arms. "I'd like to keep a souvenir, for memories."

And then you gave him that lovely smile.

"Alastor, do you think you could get me a dragon eye or two? I hear they make nice details to things."

"I'll make sure to get them.", he released the demon, only for his tendrils to take hold of them. "I won't be long.", he reassured, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of it.

He saw you blush before he 'escorted' the demon outside.

After finishing up (and calling Niffty to clean up), he returned with two freshly picked dragon eyes.

You thanked him with an odd little gleam in your eyes. No doubt your mind jumping idea to idea of what you could create with them.

Now with the pest gone, he would have your attention again.

Just like he wanted

"Thank you Alastor. I'll be able to make something interesting with these."

"I can't wait to see what you make this time."

Perhaps he'll ask you that question sooner than later.

Of course he has to prepare everything to properly court you.

I am using a website to translate requests. Please let me know if I have translated anything wrong.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @lbcreations-blog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #gn reader #the radio demon #alastor x reader #headcanons #alastor headcanons #jealousy #implied murder #implied torture #gore? #eyeballs #this turned out more like a fic #he do want all your attention tho

[lovelyghst]

“why’re you bein’ so snappy today, sweetheart?”

genuine concern laces simon’s voice as the mattress dips beneath you with his added weight, but it’s still not enough to knock you from your bratty state. sat at the head of your bed with your knees bent together in front of you, arms crossed over your chest, a pouty look on your face that hasn’t changed since you woke up that morning.

his hand slips up your calf and his other follows suit on your other leg not long after, and you’re still ignoring him. maneuvering themselves to the backs of your knees, making you huff out a frustrated sigh.

“still not gonna talk to me?” he frowns, calloused fingers abandoning your knee-socks and making their way up your bare thighs. his skin is cold, freezing against yours, and your breathing hitches when the rough pads creep upward past the end of your skirt.

you shake your head, refusing to meet his eyes and unrelenting with your behavior, and he’s forced to keep prodding; continue pushing forward, see how long you can keep up the facade until you’ll be whining and writhing and rightly fixed under him.

his digits graze your upper thighs, trickling inward to where you’ve always been the most sensitive, and he tugs at the lacy material of your panties — twice, before pulling them tight against you.

a small whine unexpectedly falls from your lips.

and, oh, he’s got you.

“my poor baby…” he coos. the second his hands emerge from beneath your skirt, your eyes snap open, surprised he’d tease you in such a mean way. his large palms move back to encase your knees; gradually guiding them to part, gentle as you go so pliant for him.

“just a troublesome, little thing, aren’t ya?”

your grumpy pout turns to a sad, desperate one, and he hums in sympathy. he knows you don’t mean to be like this.

he reaches forward again, this time his knuckles finally making contact with the soaked center of your panties, and you gasp aloud. his touch is still light though it’s enough to make you deprived.

“y’need me to help ya rub one out, hm? is that it?”

and finally- finally, you give in to simon. nodding your head, eyes all watery when a tear falls to your puffy cheek, and murmuring soft pleas that entirely contradict the you from a mere minute ago.

he grins proudly; no matter how difficult you may be at times, he’ll always break through it. pull his sweetheart from whatever depths of ill-behavior she fell into, reset that little brain for the better.

“it’s alright, dovie, i’ve got ya. just let me take care of you.”

his hand dips between your skin and the fabric of your panties, careful as he inches closer to your heat, and you give him full reign.

because that’s what he’s there for; to take care of you, of course.

#erm i have nothing else to post #(i have 96 drafts) #cod mw #simon riley #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader

[zhxngii]

random silly prompt go!!

how would the genshin men react if they see you just... cupping/rubbing/touching/playing with your own boobs in front of a mirror? lmao

bonus points if you tell them they're sore/sensitive //hit

me who does this a lot... hehe only doing two situations <3

❏ ( notes ) ; enjoyyyy, sorry this was so late <333 ❏ ( contents ) ; 18+, nsfw ahead.

Surprised?

Freezing behind you as they catch you doing this but soon enough... they come up behind you and cup your breasts themselves, smiling down at you. They don't necessarily ask why you're doing it; they'll take the opportunity to tease you a bit about it.

You don't even have to tell them about how sore or sensitive they are either, as they already know once they cup them in their hands, taking one of your nipples between their fingers to pinch them a bit... just a little to hear that cute whine from you.

They keep you facing the mirror so you can see just how their hands squeeze, pinch, and roam all over your chest. Their lips leave pecks along your neck, sometimes biting, leaving love bites along their trail. One of their hands dipping down your body to settle between your legs, feeling how your arousal was already pooling between your legs just from this.

Zhongli, Neuvillette, Pierro, Capitano, Diluc, Scaramouche, Kazuha, Xiao, Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh, Thoma, Dain

Intrigued.

They'll pretty much just stand there behind you, leaning against the doorframe as they watch you do that in front of the mirror. They won't move until you notice them though, coming up close and teasing you about how cute you look doing that.

They'd tell you such things like how cute you are, roaming their hands over your body and complimenting every part of you, making sure you keep your eyes on them in the mirror while doing so.

bonus if they have you seated on their lap with their legs spread widely as their fingertips toy with your sensitive little bud. "Isn't this just a pretty sight?" they'll ask in a hushed tone in your ear as they point out your cute expressions in the mirror, their other hand coming up to cup your breasts.

Childe, Wriothesley, Baizhu, Dottore, Pantalone, Kaeya, Itto, Heizou, Alhaitham, Ayato, Albedo

#⁁﹒💫｀´﹒zhxngii.wrks﹒ꜝ #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #childe smut #tartaglia smut #ajax smut #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #pierro smut #capitano smut #scaramouche smut #kazuha smut #xiao smut #cyno smut #tighnari smut #kaveh smut #alhaitham smut #thoma smut #diluc smut #kaeya smut #baizhu smut #baizhu x reader #dottore smut #pantalone smut

[feyascorner]

Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢

OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it) warning for suggestive content :)

For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.

It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.

He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.

It's fucked up in so many ways.

"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.

"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."

In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.

The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.

Then, everything stops.

"You're so beautiful," you whisper.

They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.

You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.

But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.

You actually stopped.

Of course, you would. You're you.

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.

"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."

You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.

"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."

You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.

Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.

"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.

"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."

You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.

Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.

It's warm. Strange, but warm.

"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.

His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.

Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.

"Tell me I'm beautiful again."

"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."

You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff

[lxnarphase]

baby put your back into it ๋࣭ ⭑

☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, smug and cocky reader, feral toji

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : idc idc i wanted something self-indulgent and want toji to call his wife 'ma'. hopefully it's good, it's been a long while since i have written anything so enjoy ☾

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : you notice a slight change in toji...seems like his breeding kink reached the next level

it didn't take long for you to notice something was different with toji. he would just...keep referencing families, babies, pregnancy...it was definitely weird coming from him.

"can you believe how expensive diapers are? if you ever had a baby, i'd just steal them, 'm not gettin' scammed for piss-'n'-shit-holders."

"...do you think you'd have a fat baby? jus' asking, 'cause you got some fat cheeks. and this time, I'm talking about the ones on your face."

"i hope you don't get gross cravings if you get pregnant. hot chips, peanut butter, and bacon? nah, wife or not, i'd beat your ass."

but everything really got worse when he started calling you that fucking nickname.

"hey, pretty ma."

"mmm, c'mon, ma, stay in bed with me longer..."

"fuck, you look so good under me like this, ma...can't wait to destroy that pretty cunt."

you didn't think too much of it, it was probably just toji being...toji. except, now? you realize exactly what's been plaguing his mind.

"you make me so fuckin' mad, y'know that," toji huffs, his fingers digging into the plush fat of your hips as he helps you fuck yourself on his thick cock.

you scoff, giving a little grind of your hips. the way he sucks in a breath and rolls his hips up into you made you grin; he talks so much shit for someone whose dick throbbed so much from that little movement.

"if i didn't make you mad, toj, you wouldn't have stuck around."

you don't give him the chance to give you a snide response before you climb off his lap and further up on the bed, giving the silent hint to switch positions. toji has to bite his tongue, shooting you a glare that makes you grin.

"you are insufferable, woman," he grumbles, coming to hold himself over you as he continues to glare down at you. toji sucks at pretending to be mad you, you think with a giggle, seeing need swirl in those pretty eyes of his. he slides his cock between your slick folds, cursing when it catches on your entrance.

just as toji is about to slide back in, you press your hand against his abdomen while your other hand wraps around the base. "ooh," he hisses, smirking down at you. "pretty wife's gonna put it in for me?"

however, it's clear he doesn't expect it when you begin to tug the condom off, eyes snapping up to you. oh, that absolutely adorable look on your face, brows furrowed together and embarrassment all over it...he felt himself twitch because of it. your usual cocky and smug persona seemed to have melted away.

"babe...what are you—"

"toji, do you wanna have a baby with me?"

the sudden question makes him freeze, his eyes widening with a mixture of shock and arousal. were you seriously asking him this now? as you fucking tugged the condom, making it slowly peel off his dick?

did you know there was no coming back from this?

"i'm being serious, fushiguro, give me an answer before i make you put a new condom on," you mutter shyly under your breath, the condom finally coming off.

he's snapped back to the present when he feels you rubbing his tip through your soaking cunt, little sighs leaving you when it brushes over your clit.

"...are you serious? hey, hey, look at me. you're not fuckin' with me right now, are ya? tell me. you really want t' have a kid with me?"

you finally make eye contact with him, that vulnerable look on your face making his heart race. you were too precious for your own good...god he was so fuckin' happy he wifed you up.

"yes, toji, i want you to make me a mommy. i...i-i want to start a family with you, okay? so stop asking me questions and jus—oh-!"

with no hesitation and no time to finish your sentence, toji slides himself inside, his hips flush against your ass as he groans your name. you're so fucking warm and wet, holy shit, he could cum just from having you wrapped around him like this.

"good god, you're gonna be the fucking death of me," he groans, leaning down to press a heated kiss against your lips. "i'm gonna ruin you, i'm goin' to fuckin' destroy you and this little cunt, you know that right?"

toji starts moving, setting a fast, deep, rough pace that makes his hot tip press against every part of you in ways that make your eyes roll back. "t-toj, w-waaait—!"

he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as he lifts your legs up, putting you into a goddamn mating press to stuff you full and you know you aren't going to make it out of this sane.

especially not when you keen at the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix.

"i can't, i can't wait, ma, i can't," he huffs into your ear, the room filling with the wet slaps of his balls smacking against your ass, the wet squelching of your needy cunt trying to suck his cock back in each time he pulls out.

"do you know what it fuckin' does to a man to hear his. fucking. wife. say she wants him to knock 'er up? huh? you don't d'you, baby girl," he asks into your ear, hips pounding hard against yours to punctuate each word.

all toji can think about is you, you getting round with his baby, you glowing so gorgeously, the way you'll out all cute, maybe get pudgy all over, all because of him...and everyone would know who did it.

"hoohmygod, listen to that pretty pussy," he hisses, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as his eyes flutter back into his head.

you can't help but hear it, it sounds so messy and sloppy, you just know you'll have to replace the sheets after this. but that's the last thing on your mind when he shifts forward just a bit, making your hips tilt up just a little more—

"oh my god, toji, t-toji, baby, don't stop, please," you practically sob, lifting your hips up to meet his thrusts as he hits that sweet spot so perfectly.

a cruel smirk breaks out on his face when he realizes he found that spongy spot inside you that makes you cream, leaning close and pressing his forehead against yours. "i know, i know, it feels good, doesn' it? yeah, you're such a slut for my cock, fuckin' milkin' it like a good girl," he coos to you condescendingly.

"w-we can't go back, toj," you whimper, your hands coming up to cup his face. you messily press wet kisses all over his face as you moan openly. "c-can't fuck with condoms anymore, it feels too good, baby,"

"shh, shh, mama, i got you," he reasures you, chuckling at how precious you are...telling him not to fuck you with condoms anymore? oh, he had no problem with that.

"'m gonna make sure i breed you nice 'n' deep, yeah? gonna get you pregnant with my baby," he coos, moving his hand between you both to rest on your stomach. "'m gonna fill you up...right here," he says with a devious tone before he presses down right as he pushes back inside of you.

"babyyyy, i'm cumming," you cry, digging your nails into his back as tears stream down your face. he didn't stop, still snapping his hips into you as you orgasm, feeling you squeeze him so fucking tight as he talks you through it, little phrases of 'that's it, keep cumming' and 'goooood, you're gettin' so wet, milk that cock, it's all for you' being huskily groaned into your ear.

but, when you think he'll stop, giving you a break...you realize he's not, he's not stopping, toji's still fucking you, and you glance down and see how you're creaming, your cum coating his cock in a milky sheen as you squeal, managing to get your legs off his shoulders to try and move up on the bed away from his unforgiving pace.

"tojiiii, 's too much," you huff, managing to move far up the bed enough that only the tip is inside of you...but toji isn't letting you get away that easily.

"nononono, don't run away, don't run away from me, mama." he follows you up the bed until you are trapped between him and the pillows messily pushed against the headboard.

"don't run, c'mon, get back on my cock, tha's it," toji rasps, his voice making you shiver. he sounds so desperate, so unhinged, so needy. he looks so good like this, you think, mewling when he pushes back inside.

"there she is, good girl, lettin' me breed her cunt."

your insides are getting turned into mush, and, fuck, was he going deeper? you nodded your head, but you didn't even know why, it jsut felt right, felt so good, you were gonna cum again—

"i need to fuckin' breed you," he practically whines, toji's eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on chasing his end, your sticky cunt driving him fucking mad. soon, he'd be cumming inside of you, filling you up, his hot, thick cum getting sucked right into your womb by your desperate pussy...

"shit, fuck, doll, let me cum in you, let me empty my balls inside of you, i want it so fuckin' bad, mama, let me make you my pretty pregnant wife, please, let me give you a baby—"

he was rambling, eyes snapping open as he tried to glare at you but you just moan when he made eye contact. he's trying sohard to seem angry, but he's not, he's melting in your walls, eyes begging you to let him paint them white, to try and knock you up.

you nod again, rapidly to the point you get dizzy, hands grabbing his biceps and squeezing hard. "toji, don't you, hhf, waste a fuckin' drop, or i swear to god i will t-tie you up and milk you until you are shooting blanks, give me your fuckin' baby—"

"—fuckin' shit, babyyy, i'm cumming, fucking take it, take it, take my cum into that pretty little cunt-!"

the groan that he gives you is loud and needy, dropping down to messily kiss you as he pounds into you in deep, hard thrusts trhough his orgasm. you shudder violently at the feeling of thick, hotness filling you up from the inside. it's so much, you can tell it's not all gonna fit, feeling some of it messily spurt out of you as his thrusts grow lazier.

"thank you, baby," you softly coo, thankful for both the break of overstimulation and the pleasant feeling of being so full. he nearly collapses on you, holding himself up with his forearms as he pants, catching his breath as you kiss all over his face, waiting for him to come back to you.

eventually, he sits up, a hand running through his messy hair as his other one stays on your waist, stroking it up and down, taking in the view of you catching your breath against the pillows he cornered you against.

...you're so so pretty.

"shit...ah, damn, you're a mess," toji mutters to himself, looking between the two of you. it's a filthy mess, a mixture of your cream and the thick cum that couldn't stay inside. hell, he doesn't think he's ever cum this much in one go before. "mmmn...it looks pretty though," he says with a proud smirk. he did that to you, after all.

as he goes to pull out of you, toji's shocked by the way you manage to gain the strength to flip him onto his back...just that single move had him twitching back to hardness inside you as wide eyes looked up into your mischievous ones.

"don't pull out, yet, toj...just one more time? just to make sure it takes?"

an almost evil smirk breaks out on toji's face as he digs his fingertips into your ass, hard enough that it'll leave marks.

"shit, i knew i married the right fuckin' woman. come on, baby girl, let me see you fuck me stupid. let's make sure i give my wife what she wants.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter this work

#toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #𖤐 ── lxnarworks.

[ellabscrush]

— fucking you behind the screen.

thinking about getting pounded by your gamer girlfriend’s strap while unmuted..

pairings; gamer!ellie williams x reader

cw; men and minors don’t interact, making out, strap use, breeding kink, agoraphilia, r uses “daddy” to ellie once, language, dom!ellie, sub!reader.

ways you can help, boycott, do not support neil.

“jesse the fuck was that?” ellie laughs at the guy behind the mic when he missed the shot.

“dina, get him!” she shouted, “fuck yeah!”

your girlfriends excessive cursing and yelling across the room made you snap out of your phone while scrolling on tiktok, wondering if she was about to break her setup right about now.

it was mid winter and the apartment was freezing so you threw on a zip up over your top underneath, feeling the warm athmosphere disappearing from your body as you walked out your room.

“holy shit els, it’s freezing” you said shivering tensely towards the living room, but she didn’t hear you.

“took out your friend.. fucking cunt.”

not gonna lie, her little frustrated grunts and insults were very attractive, you thought. you stared at her hands switching in between buttons, her eyes glued on the screen showing her focus, manspreading enough room for you to eat her out down there.. she looked too good.

you plopped yourself on to the couch, loud enough to make her turn over, pausing her activity. she sets down her headphones and took a long look at you.

she lays back on her chair, “hey you,” she sighs.

“you almost done?” you asked, desperate for some attention.

“almost,” she replies, “this game is pissing me off anyway.”

you smiled, having a silent moment between the two of you. there was a familiar tension, but unsure wether you should go along. ellie kept scanning you up and down like she hadn’t seen you in forever, technically she hadn’t since she’d been playing all day.

“you need somethin?” you asked with confused expression.

“do i look like i need something?” she teased, licking her lips.

you shrugged, shyly looking down as you we’re hiding the redness forming in your face. you couldn’t act normal around her when she looked this good, i mean she always looks good. you soon got up from the couch, walking towards your girlfriend, giving her a long wet kiss.

“you should take this off” she insisted while tugging at your zipper, her tone switching making you go insane.

ellie, being her clumsy self, didn’t mute.

“get a room!” jesse and dina yells from the speaker, unaware the two could listen to you both smothering eachother.

“shut up,” she pulls down the mic, “i’ll get on soon.”

you burried yourself in the crook of her neck from embarrassment and laughed. she pulled you in for a deeper kiss, pulling up your one thigh and the other on to her lap.

“can we make this quick?” ellie asks making you confused, “take this shit off,” she demanded quietly, making sure her friends doesn’t hear.

“just mute it ellie,” you giggled in between the kisses.

she lets out another smirk, this time having an idea behind it.

she whispers in your ear that made you shiver a bit hearing her talk in such a dirty way as she fills you in on her plan. contemplating her genius yet scary idea, you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rushing up on you. it turned you on and so you agreed.

“suck.”

ellie puts her middle and ring finger in your wet mouth, prepping it with your saliva before it goes in you. she turns her chair towards her pc, leaving a bit of room for you.

“stream your screen,” she speaks into the mic, “i’ll just watch you both from here.”

a few minutes later, her strap was going in and out behind you, making you cry just trying to keep your moans in. back arched and both hands on the rim of the table infront of you as ellie make your stomach turn.

“shh, can’t let them hear you now.”

“mmph.. so deep..” you whimpered.

at this point you were barely clothed, nipples poking through the see through, thin fabric of your bra. ellie gropping your perky tits as hard as she wanted, you were hers. she could do whatever she wanted.

her hips moving faster and faster, holding yourself up with just two grips on her white desk. her praises for keeping quiet were not helping, it made you even louder.

“you look so slutty right now,” she basically drooled, “asking to get fucked under that jacket?”

“y-yes” you say quietly, “fuck daddy.”

the name made ellie flustered. her hand grabbing your jaw while your mouth was hanging open dry, she stared at the long silicone disappearing inside of you.

“ellie- i cant-“ you squeeled as you tried reaching her arms, begging for some gentleness.

“yes you can,” she whispers in your ear, “be a good girl and let me fuck you in secret, okay?”

you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, so you just nodded. ellie kissed down your neck to your shoulder as a reward for listening, being a good girl just for her.

“gonna fuckin’ breed you..” ellie muttered in your ear, “being s-such a good mama for me.”

it started getting rough, more than before. the image in your head of what you two looked like right now, or even getting caught by her friends made you more horny. your body started shuttering and the familiar feeling of pleasure in your thighs took over.

“please baby..” you moaned trying to keep your composure.

“faster?” she asked knowing the answer, “yeah i know you want it faster, love.”

your girlfriend started pounding you like crazy while firmly gripping your swollen ass.

“perfect fucking ass sucking it in.. godd.”

the little action figures on the desk falling, table hitting the wall, making you realize how loud you two were being.

“mm ellie too much..” you whined, “please slow down!”

suddenly, she couldn’t take your begging anymore. as much as she loved hearing you, she had to shut you up. her hands quickly covered your mouth, “quit talking,” she growled.

“you have to keep it down, can you do that?” she raises her eyebrow while making eye contact with you, basically making this harder for you purposely.

“answer my fucking question. do you want me to stop?”

“no.. els no,” was all you could mumble out, “fuckk”

that last moan alerted the two on the other side of the screen, luckily ellie saved it.

“yo ellie you good?” jesse asks, “uh yeah! just bumped my knee.”

“idiot,” he laughed.

that was close. your quick taps on her hand covering your mouth lured her attention back on you, begging with teary eyes to cum. ellie was full in lust looking at you being a needy whore bent over.

she took the palm of he hand out and put her thumb in your mouth while continuing to pound you hard. your mumbled words were frustrating her, “words baby, words.”

she pushes you back towards her chest, “need your cum..” you begged looking up at her, “fuck me please.”

with that, your wishes came true as she railed you deep and faster. making you reach your climax with every thrust coming in and out of your hole.

“ellie!-“

“shut it,” she covers your mouth again aggressively, slapping your ass with one free hand. the gesture secretly making you more close to orgasming.

“that’s my slut getting fucked behind for everyone to hear.”

you couldn’t help yourself but moaned, not even caring who could hear you at this point.

“yeah?” ellie mocks, “like it that much?”

you nodded. your girlfriend feeling better right about now for letting her take it all out on you over a game.

“i’m fucking cumming.. holy shit,” you pant out of breath, feeling the turns in your stomach and liquid dripping down your thighs.

“i’m gonna cum in you, baby” ellie groaned, “make you.. all mine.”

“yes cum in me oh my god!”

she grabs your shoulders, “take my fucking dick.. f-fuck.”

ellie swore she could feel you, seeing the white ring forming on the strap made her smile just knowing no one else could fuck you this good.

“i love breeding you baby.. fill you up with that warm.. sticky cum, yeah?” ellie continues to please you as you ride out her strap, “goodd girl.. it’s okay mama.”

“els i’m shaking,” you whined, “no more..”

“you did good baby.”

don’t worry, she was actually muted this time.

#bianca writes✍🏼 . ݁₊ ⊹ . #the last of us #ellie williams #ellie x you #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie x y/n #ellie smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #18+ mdni #smut fic #tlou smut #gamer #ellabs #wlw fanfic #lgbtq #tlou #tlou game #fem reader #afab reader #do not stop talking about palestine

[floatmeintothesun]

Utterly Enraptured

Pairing; Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

tags; breeding, little bit of overstimulation, Miguel goes into rut, creampie, wordcount 4k

Summary; Miguel seems to have forgotten about a certain side effect from having half of his genetic makeup being spider DNA

EXPLICIT - MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

—

Wet, warm, perfectly molded to his length. Large palms pressing against thighs, his mouth quieting your little gasps and hiccups. His murmured praise, his filthy tongue pressing against your hole wetly, licking long stripes up your skin. Hungry. The twitch of his hips, the choked whimpers, he wants it. Needs it. 

You’re gasping, trying in vain to muffle your moans into the pillow while he completely and irrevocably rearranges your insides. You’re so fucking sweet – god, he wants nothing more than to stuff you full of his seed, pull out and admire the view of him seeping out from your weeping pussy. 

He wants to push it all back in with spit slicked fingers, kiss away all of your tears and do it all over again until you’re sobbing in pleasure, begging for more, more, more –

Miguel wakes up feeling fire burn at the base of his spine and the undeniable hardening of his cock. He immediately wants to just roll over and go back to bed. 

It’s 7:47, he has to get up in ten minutes, he’s way too hot but the floors are probably freezing, his blankets are so so comfortable and his dick is aching. So far, great start to his morning. Miguel turns to his side, finding your side of the bed empty. He resists the urge to groan. 

Right, you have your early work shift today.

 He mourns the loss of the warmth as he kicks off his blankets with one languid motion. For a moment he’s tempted to just indulge himself right now, right here. Your scent is still in the air, soaked into your pillow, heady and intoxicating. 

Absent-mindedly he palms himself, cupping the sizable bulge and considers. Miguel wants you, to be completely honest. Always does. Like a thirst that will never be quenched, he craves you. All of you. Your hands, your flesh, your blood — if he could, he’d worship every single inch of you for the rest of eternity. 

And you’re not here. Unfortunately. He imagines your hand, smaller than his, wrapping securely around his length, the other curled loosely around his hot, swollen balls, and slowly exhales. 

He can wait. He has self control. He doesn’t have time to fist himself like a wild animal. He has an online meeting to attend since he, for once, is taking a break from the Spider Verse for a day or two.

Miguel heaves a sigh and gets up, stretching lazily. The chill seeps into his skin and he resigns himself to taking a cold shower. 

(He ends up having to clean spurts of creamy white off of the shower walls anyway. He is so fucked.)

—

There’s something wrong with him. There’s something wrong with today. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Miguel can’t get you out of his head. 

You usually don’t leave his mind regardless, but at the moment, all he can think of is bending you over the nearest flat surface, letting you slather at his tip, feeling your sweet, tight pussy clench around him while he whispers obscenities in your ear.

He thinks of you all day, but his thoughts are never this…vividly vulgar. Miguel will admit to having the stray passing instance but right now? He’s practically been a depraved fucking dog for the past three hours straight. 

This morning didn’t help. That damn dream didn’t help. He’s been staring at his laptop for the past thirty minutes trying desperately to redirect his thoughts to something more productive, his board members are droning on and on about stock values and whatnot  – he has work to finish, but jesus, he can’t think of anything but you.

Your taste, your heat, your everything. He’s hard as rock as he mumbles some bullshit excuse to his meeting members before shutting off his laptop with a definite click. It’s as if a fog has filled his head, keeping him drunk and dizzy. Miguel’s body feels unbearably hot right now, scorching, needing. 

“Lyla,” his voice is strangled. “What’s the date?” 

His assistant flickers to life next to him, drawing up a calendar.

“Mm…it’s the 8th,” she says, blinking down at him. “Ah, I see. Your uh, time of the month, y’know?” She wiggles her eyebrows and he growls, waving her away. She pops up a little ways away, putting her hands on her hips.“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, man,” Lyla frowns. “Just telling you,”

“Thanks,” He says bitingly, dismissing her and groaning into his hands. You won’t be home until later – and later means that he’s going to have to suffer for the next few hours, alone and unbearably horny. Wonderful. 

Mentally, he berates himself with a low hiss, feeling annoyed that he didn't connect the dots earlier. His throat is dry and he swallows raspily.

He should’ve looked at the date, how could he have forgotten? Heightened sensitivity, overheating, inability to focus, the urge to fuck you into next week — all signs pointing to a very large neon billboard that says “SPIDER INSTINCT FUCKERY” in big bold letters. In other words, mating period.

 It happens every other month through the 8th to the 10th when his body decides that it’s time to procreate and do nothing else for the next two days. 

He sucks in a ragged breath slowly, trying to calm his fast beating heart. It doesn’t work, only serving to remind him of the pulsing in his chest and between his legs. 

It wasn’t this bad before he started dating you. All he had to do was tug on his cock a few times and he was fine, for the most part. Anything else could be burned off by fighting criminals and doing his usual dimensional overseeing.

That was before you. You and your gorgeous smile, you and your honeyed scent, you and your burning touch. He’s so hungry — greedy. He wants your flesh in his hands, your slick on his chin, your hands on his body. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s getting up from the couch and migrating to your shared room until his knees hit the mattress and his huge frame curls up on your side of the bed. His cock is stupidly hard, twitching and throbbing from where it’s formed a tent in his sweatpants. 

Miguel can already feel the precum seeping out of him and staining his boxers. A whine rips itself out of his throat as he buries his head into your pillow, basking in your familiar sweet smell. 

A heady mixture of your favorite shampoo, perfume and body, all swirling around him as he grinds his lower half into the bed desperately like a dog in heat. 

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. 

He needs you, craves you. His large hand snakes down to wrap around his weeping length, the other pulling down his sweat pants and boxers to give him some relief. It’s agony, waiting for you to come home. 

He wishes you were here right now, wishes that he could pepper your face with kisses and croon apologies while he slowly bottoms out in your tight cunt while you writhe beneath him. 

Or on top of him. He doesn’t give a damn. Any position you want, he’ll do it. 

Just imagining your sweet whines and whimpers has his breath labored. He presses the heel of his palm against his stiff length, hissing at the jolt of pleasure and sensitivity that burns through him. It’s painfully dry, but he takes the slick precum dripping out of his tip to aid the tight slide of his fist over his fat cock. God, he just needs to pump you full of him and fuck it all back into you. The thought of you, all swollen and glowing with his kid makes him nearly feral.

His hips jerk upwards and he can’t help but imagine your hand instead of his, can’t help but imagine how much better it would feel. 

He gasps quietly as his thumb presses against his slit, jaw tightening, fangs threatening to break skin. The hand currently not wrapped around his cock is clenching the bedsheets hard enough to rip. 

He just needs to wait. He just has to wait a little longer. You’ll be home soon. 

—

You slip off your shoes at the door, setting them aside on the rack near the entrance. The warmth from the apartment chases away the chill and you set down your bag, heaving a sigh of relief. You’ve been looking forward to spending time with your boyfriend all day since he has a rare day at home today. 

You peek around the hall, letting your aching feet be comforted by the rugs near the living room. Where is Miguel anyways? 

“Heyyyy,” Lyla pops up in front of you suddenly, grinning when you startle. “Looking for Miguel?”

You set a hand on your chest trying to calm your jackrabbiting heart, before giving her a small smile.

“Yeah. Is he here right now? I mean he said he would be, but I don’t know if he’s doing his Spider-man thing right now,” You tilt your head as Lyla’s expression flickers. She adjusts her glasses, glancing at your bedroom door.

“Well uh, he’s in there. Might wanna be careful though,” She mutters, checking out her bright pink nails absentmindedly. You raise an eyebrow.

“Why’s that?”

In lieu of explanation she draws up a calendar and materializes a glitching pen in her hands, circling the date. Your frown in confusion. 

“The…8th?” You blink and she nods. Why would today be significant? It’s not your anniversary, the only thing that comes to mind at the moment is… “Oh.” You swallow dryly, remembering vague flashes from two months ago. Two months ago when he had fucked you silly for what was basically two days, interspersed with breaks in between. Then the sheepish explanation of what he calls "mating period" where his DNA practically drives him insane with rampant horniness. 

 Lyla nods empathetically.

“Yeah…well, good luck! I've heard that massages really help with soreness.” She vanishes with a pop of golden glimmers, leaving you alone in the hall. 

You glance where she had been moments prior before sighing. Dating a man with half of his makeup being spider DNA came with its quirks. Your feet carry you down the hall and you open the door to find –

Oh fuck.

Miguel, in all of his bare glory, strong thighs spread wide, leaving nothing to the imagination. His sweatpants and shirt are in a heap on the floor, most likely thrown in his haste. His heaving chest is gleaming with sweat, abdomen twitching, looking like a Greek God. 

And there, his throbbing, swollen cock squeezed tightly in his fist, his hips working back and forth at a languid pace. Long and thick, the tip shining slightly with precum. It makes you salivate, sticky heat beginning to grow between your legs. 

The room's atmosphere is heavy as you mindlessly draw closer. Fuck, his gasps and whimpers sound so pretty. Half of his large frame is hanging off the bed as you realize he's on your side, face buried desperately in your pillow.

"B – baby," His words stutter in his throat as your scent overwhelms him, his nostrils flaring. "Please, please, please —fuck, need you so bad," he quivers, taking his hand off of his face to look back at you. He's grimacing, gorgeous plush lips stretched into a pathetic pout and you hum in acknowledgement, putting a hand on his thigh. He twitches but makes no other move.

Your clit throbs in response to the pure neediness in his voice, high and whiny. He sounds utterly wrecked, squeezing his cock and waiting for you to touch him. You’re so close, your hand is on his body, but it’s not where he wants it. 

“You’re so desperate, Miguel,” You croon, reaching out slowly and wrapping your hand around his base. He makes a choked sound, his hand falling away to run through his sweaty hair. “Aren’t you?”

He doesn’t answer for a second, visibly trying to contain himself before he speaks, low and ragged.

“Yes,” He finally hisses, crimson irises foggy and clouded with lust. You hum in approval at his answer, squeezing lightly as you begin to pump him, going at a pace you know is wholly too slow for his taste. “Don’t t — tease me, cariño. Faster, baby, please,” He begs, his breath stuttering in his chest. 

You rock back on your heel as you begin stroking faster, your thumb tracing the veins on the underside. Miguel’s eyes roll back as your deliciously hot mouth descends on him, your tongue circling his tip juuust the way he likes it. Fuck, you can feel yourself getting wetter with each trembling hiss and moan you pull out of this man — your man. You separate from him with a pop, licking pre from sticky fingers while he watches hungrily.

The smell of arousal — your arousal, invades his senses and his hands twitch and he lunges, pulling you up to him and flipping you over. You yelp in surprise as his hands immediately squeeze flesh, your hips, your thighs, your ass, anywhere he has access to. 

You tilt up to kiss him and he leans down, pressing his lips to yours firmly. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and when you allow him access inside he moans quietly, fangs digging into your lower lip lightly. 

Your shirt is practically discarded at the speed of light and you shiver for a second at the cold washing over your skin before Miguel's all over you again.

He leans forward to fumble with your bra, fingers struggling to unclasp the hooks on the back. You laugh and pull it off yourself, to which he rolls his eyes fondly before his mirth is devoured by desire.

Thick fingers nimbly pull at your pants waistline.

"Take these off too, sweetheart," He whispers, leaving wet open mouth kisses trailing down your neck. You shiver, obliging quickly and kicking them off. They land somewhere on the floor and you don't care enough to look for them. Not when Miguel is between your legs, staring down at your clothed pussy like it's his last meal.

He inhales slowly, leaning down to press his head against your thigh. You smell so fucking intoxicating, he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs and make you scream in pleasure. But first he has to get rid of your panties.

"Hurry up, Miguel, please," You whine, wiggling your hips as if to try and encourage him. As if he needs any sort of encouragement. 

"Do you care about these panties?" He asks, quick and low. You blink.

"No…? –! " You gasp as he lowers his head and fucking rips them off of you in one quick motion with his damn teeth. "Miguel!"

"I'll get you new ones, baby. Promise." He kisses your inner thigh, holding you down with two large searing hands. "As many as you want. As long as I get to have this goddamn pussy, I'll get you anything."

Your glistening lips look absolutely delicious, all wet and soaked from watching him play with his cock in front of you. He wants to put his mouth on your throbbing, swollen clit until you sob, wants your pussy in his face, wants his tongue in you while you grab at his hair and urge him for more. You'd taste divine, and he nearly just decides to do it anyway.

But his cock is so hard it almost hurts and he's about three seconds away from getting blue balls, so instead he sinks one finger in your drenched cunt. Your breath hitches and you turn your head into a pillow as he begins to finger fuck you in earnest. The obscene sound of slick gushing out from your hole makes Miguel nearly feral, nearly has his eyes rolling back into his head as he feels your tightness squeeze and pulse around his thick digit. You hiss at the stretch, slow pain and growing pleasure intertwining as Miguel goes slow adding a second. 

"You're doing so good, so good, baby. You feel so – fuck, so good. Can you take one more?" He asks breathlessly. "C’mon, you're such a good girl, aren't you?"

You nod amidst blurry vision, gasping as he slides another finger in. His pace is fast and punishing, and the final goddamn nail on the coffin is the way his fingers press into your g-spot, while his thumb rubs messy circles on your puffy clit. 

"Cum, baby, you can do it, you can fucking cum for me, can't you?" He latches onto your tit, swirling his tongue around your nipple in such a way that makes your head foggy. 

“Mig – guel!” You whine brokenly as he rolls it between his teeth, sharp points of pleasure burning up your spine like wildfire. Miguel can’t help but groan at the feeling of your sweet cunt clamping down on his fingers, and he increases his speed at the telltale signs of your impending orgasm. You're so so close and when the building coil in your lower stomach finally snaps, you sob, gushing all over his palm.

Your bare chest heaves as he murmurs sweet praise in your ear, telling you that "You did so good, cariño," and "Look at you, you're so gorgeous all spread out like this,". Miguel drags his tongue down your neck, pulling away for a second to suck your juices off his fingers in an awfully erotic display of tongue, saliva, and a flash of a grin. 

He presses kisses to your face, trying his absolute damndest not to hump you like a fucking dog but he’s waited so long and he’s going to go fucking insane if he doesn’t get your pretty pussy wrapped around his cock in the next two seconds. 

“C’mere, baby,” Miguel takes himself in hand, his other keeping your thighs spread so he can see your twitching hole all wet and ready for him. “Can’t wait any damn longer – I’ll fuckin’ – explode or something.”

Looking up at him from your position is absolutely deadly. His hair is disheveled, strands slipping from their usually neat positions, his expression is utterly and completely devoted as his chest heaves. Your eyes travel down to shamelessly stare at his massive package, complete with his proportionally large hand curled around the weeping length. 

He’s so stiff that he splits your lips easily, and he groans at the feeling of your slick coating the underside of his cock. You can’t help but gasp as he grinds against you slowly before the head catches on your clit and pushes inside. 

And oh god, he could die right here and be happy, he could fucking die with the tip of his dick buried in your tight pussy and think that his life is fulfilled. It takes everything in him not to cum and paint your insides in a creamy white. Your wet walls are so slick and he hisses as they clamp down on him.

“Fuuuuck… baby you — you gotta loosen up for me, relax — mnnshit — “ he gasps, and you cry out, shifting underneath him. He rubs sloppy circles on your clit, his breathing labored as a few more inches of his monstrous cock slide in, “There we go, there we — nnngh, okay, good, so fucking good, you’re such a pretty girl,” he babbles nonsensically, practically losing his mind in the warmth. 

“M — Miguel,” You hiccup, nudging him out of his daze. “Move — please, s’not enough,” You want him in your guts, you want him to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is the shape of his cock. 

And who is he to deny you?

He shoves the rest of himself in in one fluid motion, his throat closing in on itself as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush to yours. His mouth parts slightly as his lips form an o shape, and he thrusts once, caging you in his burly arms. 

“Oh shit — I’m gonna move, okay? M’gonna move,” he warns you, before pulling out slowly only to slam his hips back into yours with wild abandon. You suck in a startled breath as he begins to absolutely fuck your brains out, fire igniting deep in your lower stomach again. There’s none of his usual careful approach, there’s no teasing, no smug remarks. He’s focused on one thing and one thing only: stuffing you full of his seed until he physically can’t anymore. 

You can barely get anything out as he grinds against you, his dick so deep inside that you’re sure that he’s showing through your lower stomach. Fuck – he feels so good as he fills your tight pussy, rocking precisely in all of your sensitive spots. The head of him practically kisses your damn cervix, sending you rocketing towards your second orgasm of the night. 

Your brain is so mushy and pleasure-drowned that it takes you a second to realize that he’s still talking and oh fuck.

“Let me fill you, le— let me cum inside, please, please, baby, I wan – nngh, I want you all round and swollen f’me,” he sounds utterly wrecked, desperate and hungry all rolled in at once, “Wouldn’t you look so pretty an’ gorgeous? Pleas – e, please? Need you full, all full of me,” Miguel begs, grunting lowly when you clamp down on him from the downright filth flowing from his mouth. 

“Yes – Miguel, just –nnhgod, oh shit, oh fuck,” You lose the tail end of your sentence as your head melts out of your ears and pleasure sears through your veins. Miguel whimpers at your words, shoving himself deeper than you thought was humanly possible. 

“Waited so long for you, baby, was so – was so lonely, needed you – need you – “ He hits a spot that has you keening, eyes rolling back and your head bumping against the headboard of the bed. You’re driving him utterly insane, your moans and cries sounding like a blended symphony of bliss pounding through his eardrums. He leans down to litter any inch of bare skin he has access to in dark marks, his burning mouth trailing wetly down the valley between your breasts.

“M’close, Mig – uel, I’m going to cum, baby –” You manage to gasp out before you’re overwhelmed completely and your vision erupts into stars as you gush around him for the second time in one day. It feels like someone has poured molten pleasure down your veins and you’re incandescent with it. 

Miguel chokes, low and deep in his throat, feeling your slick pussy tighten around his girthy cock, slathered in your juices. It tears a downright animalistic sound out of him, a trembling snarl from somewhere in his chest as he thrusts once, twice, then finally pumps you full of creamy thick seed. 

His mouth is agape, transfixed in a silent ‘o’ as his hips stutter and his balls draw up tight, every atom in his body devoted to filling you completely. When he’s finished, he rolls his hips a few more times, fucking his cum deeper inside of you despite his hiss of overstimulation. 

Your limbs are putty in his hands as he slides out slowly and adjusts you into a more comfortable position, his eyes lingering on the way some of his cum drips out of your loose hole. He pushes it all back in with two fingers, giving you a small smile of apology at your choked mutter, before collapsing down next to you and dragging you close to his chest. 

“...How long does this last again?” You rasp, voice sore from screaming. Miguel hums in contemplation, nosing your shoulder from where he’s draped over you.

“About a day and a half more to go,” He responds languidly after a moment. “Are you okay with that?”

You know you’re going to be so sore by the end of it. You know you’ll probably be feeling it for weeks on end after. You know you’ll probably have to take a few sick days to recover too. 

“Mhm,” You answer, kissing his cheek. “I can handle it,”

“That’s good,” He replies quietly, and you stiffen, feeling his fat softened cock twitch against your thigh. He raises his head to give you a semi sheepish look and you gulp.

Maybe you can’t handle it, actually. It’s okay though, since Miguel will take care of you long after. 

—

Man im so sorry this was pretty late. At least i managed to get it in before October ended. Also I’d let that man dick me down any day of the week, 24/7 😻😻

#across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine

[shuosen]

gojo satoru x top! amab! reader

cw: slight degradation, hair pulling, blowjob (r), slight choking, slapping if you squint, overstim?, stomach bulge

there was a very, very thin line between lust and fear that many don’t realize they’ve traveled. they stand to wonder if the shivers that wrack their body are from desire, or terror. Gojo Satoru, is not afraid of anything. he is the strongest, he knows he is the strongest. his confidence and strength has gotten him to where he is today- where is he?

he wants to say he’s currently wooing a woman, that he’s in a fight, and of course winning, but he cant. he cant say he’s out doing badass shit- hell, he can’t say anything at all. not with your cock stuffed down his throat, pulsing veins pressing against his flat tongue that struggles to maneuver across the girth of your member.

his large, strong hands shake helplessly in the air before he lays them on his thighs, gripping the familiar texture of his uniform. his eyes twitch before shutting tight, attempting to keep the tears in his eyes from falling, because gojo satoru does not cry.

he’s struggling to keep it together and you chuckle with as much amusement as one can manage, watching him flinch when the tight hand in his hair tugs harder. he wonders if this is what fear feels like, because surely this powerful feeling dwelling in his stomach and producing full body reactions is not lust. surely he is not lusting this hard for his colleague, and his friend.

your predatory eyes glaze over as he chokes on your cock, and you grip his hair at his scalp, thrusting into his throat and you’re sure you’ve successfully made any and all thoughts flee from his mind.

“you liking this, baby? hm? does my cock in your throat feel good?”

the only response you get are gurgles and useless whines as your cock and his spit clog his mouth, and you just have to grin at your hard work, finding pride in reducing ‘the strongest’ to a whore and a hole.

“thas’ right.. hu- fuck.” you mumble, rolling your hips into his mouth, listening as he chokes and gags each time your head presses into the back of his throat. It’s sloppy, he doesn’t know how to use his mouth for this kind of thing, but his throat closes around you with every gag and every sob he lets out, and he’s making you feel good even with no experience. you just think he is so pretty like this, face all red and messy, but you’re also sure he’ll be even prettier once you stretch him out and fill him up, and you know his noises will be music to your ears when you’re finally able to fuck him, so you pull out, taking advantage of his dazed state, listening to him sputter as you slap your cockhead on his lips.

“get up.” you order, grabbing his arm and aiding him to his feet, before shoving his face into the bed you were previously sitting on, listening as he gasps a deep breath. you waste no time grabbing both of his wrists with one hand while the other yanks his pants and underwear down to his thighs. the sudden movement makes him twitch in surprise, his fingers curling into his palms, a noise between a gasp and a groan leaving his lips as you manhandle his hips, moving him to your liking freely.

“shit, wait!” gojo stumbles over his words, trying to push his hips down and away from your hands, the snap sound of the lube cap somewhat ominous to his muddled brain.

“what?” you ask, bending yourself over his back, resting your chin against his shoulder and letting go of his wrists in favor of pulling his chin up from the bedsheets. “you want me to stop?”

he freezes at the question, something akin to a sob falling from his lips, because he didnt expect you to ask that and he sure as hell doesnt have an answer. if he says no, would that be stripping him of his pride? he’s a man with much dignity and little femininity. if he say’s no, he’s allowing himself to be fucked, which means he can no longer deny the lust and the longing for you, for your cock, but if he says yes, you’ll leave him here- his own member dripping and lonely, your burning touch fading from his body- and with a broken whine, he comes to the conclusion that the former is the better choice, letting himself go slack in your hold.

“no..”

“good boy.” you grin, and he flinches at the cold temperature of the lube pouring onto his hole.

it’s been hours- gojo thinks. hours since you first began prepping him, fingers sinking into his tight hole, stretching it beyond what he thought it could be, hours since you first sank into him, hours since your cock first grazed his prostate, and hours since his descent into becoming a brain dead cock whore began.

“A-auhhg! f-fuck! fuck!” He cries, his noises so loud that they almost drown out the slap of your hips against his ass and thighs, the reddening of them just one aspect of proof of how long you’ve been rutting into him. you wanted to be slow with him, treat him nicely and slowly unfold him beneath you, but these noises, seeing your cock disappear everytime you sink in, and the way his back arches was too good to resist.

you fucked into him harshly and deeply, your red, burning cock bruising his sweet spot with every sharp piston of your hips into his sloppy hole. he’s completely given up trying to save his image, the way he cries and moans and kicks as you take him is clear of that. he no longer cares about anything but you ruining his pretty, puffy hole.

the pace of your hips is so fast, and so rough that he cant register the difference between your thrusts in and your slides out, and he cant do anything but scream, his noises a mix of words, letters, and maybe your name.

through your own groans and puffs of air, you chuckle, something that sounds demeaning to his ears and he shrivels, a loud “n-no!” echoing through the small room, but neither of you know what he’s addressing.

“what’s wrong?” you huff, adjusting your grip on his waist, and leaning forward for a new angle. “HCK- Sh- Ughk!” he chokes, stuffing his face forward into the sheets and you click your tongue, moving your hand around, and pulling him up along with you by his neck, your fingertips squeezing the sides.

“i asked you a question, toru. you too fucked out to answer me properly?”

his breathing is heavy and labored and you laugh at his pathetic state once again. “whatever,” you mumble, letting go of his neck, allowing his upper body to fall onto the bed. “jus’ means im doin’ a good job.”

you grin, pressing a hand down on his back harshly, forcing an arch as you continue to rut into his sloppy hole. gojo yelps under you, his milky thighs shaking with the effort of holding his hips up, his hands gripping onto the sheets beside his head as if they’ll run away. you’re sure he’s cum multiple times untouched now, but every man wants pleasure on his dick, and maybe it was an act of mercy, or maybe it was just your evil mind, but you reached under him, squeezing his cock in your hold, beginning to jerk him off.

at the first feathery touch of your hand, gojo screamed, jolting forward, his legs kicking upwards, desperate hands trying to push yours away from his sensitive, leaking dick as you pound into his hole and jerk him off at the same time. “s-no! shit! cant!”

“you can.” your sentence is punctuated by a slap on his ass and his whole body jumps, his shoulders shaking as he curls into himself, and he looks small.

your thumb rubs over his tip continuously, and his hips buck so harshly your forced to let go, and your hand brushes over his stomach, feeling something that makes your hips stutter, almost pausing in their ministrations.

“fuh-fuck.. ‘toru, no way.” you laugh, bringing him up so his back is flush with your chest and you peer over his shoulder, delivering one deep, harsh thrust into him, confirming the cock bulge in his defined stomach.

a groan erupts from your throat, and theres no time wasted before your pressing him into the bed with your back and your hips, fucking his hole again, but this time- your sly hands rub his stomach, before pressing down with force, right where your cock is, and gojo squeals, his voice high pitched, desperate and messy like a common street whores.

the sound tips you over, your pace slowing, and gojo, as spent as he is, breathes a sigh of relief, taking deep breathes in, before pressing his hand against your abdomen, trying to push your cock out.

“oh? we aren’t done so soon..”

please like and reblog to show your support! this is my first piece of writing, and english is my second language, so i’m a little worried about how its come out. thank you! <3

#gojo satoru #gojo x male reader #sub gojo #sub jjk #sub jujutsu kaisen #sub gojo satoru #top male reader #top amab reader #top gn reader #gojo x top reader #gojo x top male reader #gojo x top gn reader #dom reader #dom male reader #dom gn reader #☆ - shuowrites