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peachesofteal · 5 months

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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄Simon has himself a merry little Christmas - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge

Simon opens his eyes to an empty bed on Christmas morning.

His breath catches in his chest when his hand slides across the sheets, instinctively seeking the warmth of your body, only to discover your side of the bed empty.

His rational, tactical, professional mind tells him you've probably just gotten up with the baby. That for some reason, he slept too deeply and didn't wake up when she did this morning, like he usually does. You're in the guest room, Emmaline's room, now, or in the kitchen. Maybe you're already drinking your first cup of coffee. You're fine. The baby is fine. Nothing is wrong.

But his heart... his heart screams. Terror ices his veins, adrenaline and fear taking control of his gross motor skills, legs twisting beneath him as he stumbles out of bed and races for the door. They’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine-

“Sweetheart?” His voice betrays him. He sounds stressed, anxiety piquing, frantically turning the corner into the kitchen. Not again, he can’t do this again, this can’t happen again…

It’s empty. The front door is still locked, and so is the patio’s, twinkling Christmas tree glowing in the late dawn light. His mind splits. Check Emmaline’s room, they’re probably in there, get control of yourself… and… the glock 19 is closest, should still be under the top shelf, call Price, mobilize the team-

“Simon?” He whirls at the sound of your voice, air rushing out of his lungs, drawing into a relieved laugh. Emmaline is on your hip in a green, white, and red striped elf costume, complete with a pointed hat, jingle bell dangling from the top. “Morning.” You smile, and so does the baby. “Santa’s elf wanted to surprise you.” You’re still a little sleepy, eyes tired, and he does a double take when he realizes you’re in your underwear and one of his t shirts.

“I’m… surprised.” Bloody hell. His brain isn’t working, his mouth rendering him stupid, still caught in fight or flight, and your lips subtly twist before your eyes soften, realization soft across your features.

“Are you okay?” You question, and he nods, not trusting himself to not say something else moronic, flailing in the silence, failing. It’s been weeks since he’s felt like this, inept, clumsy, senseless, too easily settled into a life with you after that pipe burst in your flat and practically delivered him a holiday miracle, a treasure deposited right into his lap. “Here,” you push Emma into his arms, soft fingers over top his as you hand her off, looking up at him with that level trust, adoration that you’re always providing him, in your eyes. Just holding Emmaline settles the anxiety in his heart, soothes the raw buzzing that’s tearing through his head, and you smile, butting your head into his shoulder and placing a kiss there. “Will you take her while I get dressed?”

“Yeah.” He croaks, as you squeeze his forearm, turning away. “Sweetheart,” he calls, stopping you in your tracks. He wants to tell you he thinks he loves you; he thinks he’d die without you; he thinks you’re the greatest thing he’s ever had, ever held, thinks you saved him, but nothing comes out. You hold his gaze for a second, and then two, before whispering.

“I know… me too.” Of course you do. You pause, cocking your head. “Could you make some coffee? Gonna be a long day.” You raise an eyebrow towards the Christmas tree, where all of Emma’s gifts sit perfectly arranged, and he nods. He can do that.

“Just three scoops of this,” he tells Emma, portioning out the coffee into the filter as she babbles at him from her perch in his other arm. “Mama likes it pretty strong, doesn’t she? And then some water, like this.” He pours the pitcher into the machine’s reservoir, flicking on the power and listening to the gurgle as he makes his way to the couch. He bounces Emma on his knee, little hands waving in the air, trying to grab the end of her hat and gnaw on it. The tree sparkles behind her, lights and ornaments all aglow, and she giggles when she tips herself forward, planting onto his chest with both hands. “Easy, baby girl.” Rolling onto her back in the crook of his arm, she squirms, smiling up at him, finger extended towards his chin. “What is it, eh?” He leans, and she pokes his cheek, cooing with a satisfied grunt. She fits so naturally in his side, just like you do, and he settles into the cushions, relaxing, allowing her to explore, tactile touch padding across his face, little fingernails scratching at his stubble.

“You two look cozy.” You murmur with a yawn, cup of coffee steaming in your palms. He smiles, and Emma lifts her head to look for you, tracking the sound of your voice. You perch at his other side, knees tucking up next to his hip, nestling your head against his shoulder, fingers tracing Emmaline’s cheek. “Whatcha doing sweet pea?” He brushes a kiss across the top of your head, and you sigh, arm wrapping around his stomach. "This is nice."

"It is." He agrees. It's more than nice, it's everything. Everything he didn't know was possible, everything he didn't know he wanted. It's nice, spending Christmas with his girls, cuddled up together on his couch in front of a Christmas tree that's loaded with presents for the baby. A Christmas, the holiday he used to shun… now brought back to life by you. Nice is a good word to describe it, but others flit through his mind as well: perfect, redeeming, salvation.

Purpose.

He takes a ragged breath, and you lean back to look at him, waiting.

"It's more than nice, sweetheart, it's... I... never thought, never dreamed this could happen in my life. You and Emmaline, you're... everything to me." He pauses, cradling your face, watching how your eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "I want," he swallows the lump in his throat. "I want you to stay. I want you to be here. Always." He needs you to stay, needs you like he needs air to breathe, needs you like he's never needed, never wanted, anything before in his life. He'd give you the world, if he could, wrap it up nicely and put it beneath the tree, but he doesn't know how to say that, how to explain.

He's grateful he doesn't have to.

"I'll be here, Simon. I'll be right here. With you." You take his hand, clutching onto him tightly. It's selfish, what he wants. Stupid. But he's not a good man... he's yours, and he'll be as wicked, as awful as he must to keep you and Emmaline safe. You're the only good thing about him now, and he'd dig himself free from a shallow grave all over again, just to crawl home to you. You've changed him, deeply. Fundamentally. Taught him the truth of love, of healing, your grief not so much different from his own, and he knows he'd die for you, he'd die for you ten thousand times.

Emmaline babbles at the sound of your voice, and you smile at her, not bothering to wipe away the tear that tracks down your cheek. "We're here. We'll stay. As long as you want us."

And christ, if that isn't the best Christmas gift he's ever be given.

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #codholiday2023

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stevesjockstrap · 6 months

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Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?

Based on this post

Or, Steve invites Craigslist!Eddie to Thanksgiving as his fake boyfriend for entertainment and drama purposes

Rated: T? Always with the swearing idk | read on ao3

ETA a/n: shout out to @rocknrollsalad for a direct quote in here and putting up with me and @machtaholic for encouraging this 🖤

“Are you serious?”

Steve sighed. “Yes, Robbie. You know how much my parents have been on me since they’re losing what little power they have left. This is going to be awesome.”

She was pacing around their living room, making him anxious. “But why are you going to take this stranger from Craigslist? Why can’t you find someone you know? Argyle would do it. What if this guy doesn’t show, or he comes and steals something?”

“If he doesn’t show I’m in the same boat anyhow, but hey, there’s a thought. You think I can pay him more to steal something from my parents? I’d love to see that.”

“Steve!” She rounded on him, eyes wide. “You’re paying him? You didn’t tell me that!”

“For fuck’s sake, Rob. He didn’t ask for money, the post actually said he would do it just for food. But the guy’s driving half an hour and I’m willing to bet my family is worse than he’s expecting. Sit down, you’re making me dizzy. Read this and tell me this isn’t exactly what I need.” He scrolled on his phone and handed it to her.

Her shoulders relaxed as she read on, laughing finally, “You’re not going to make him propose or fight your dad on the front lawn, right?”

“Maybe for Christmas,” he smirked.

His parent’s house was always so cold and empty. It was his childhood home but he had never really felt any attachment to it. His apartment with Robin was small and cluttered but cozy, and full of memories of them and their friends. They had done a Friendsgiving the previous weekend that had been a dangerously good time. (The smoke detector had only gone off three times, a new record.)

Running his hand through his hair again, he looked at the clock. Would Eddie show? He checked his phone again, knowing there were no missed texts because he had just looked thirty seconds ago. Why was he more nervous about meeting him than introducing him to his family? They’d had one phone call and some texts, mostly arranging the time and place and Steve already apologizing for his family.

Eddie had laughed, “It’s okay, Steve. Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.”

He went to the bathroom, just to kill time.

And of course the doorbell rang.

He quickly washed and dried his hands, sparing a second to pull his hair into a less raked-through mess.

Quickening his pace when he saw his mom still holding the door open, not allowing whoever was on the stoop in, he craned his neck to see out the door.

Oh fuck.

“If you’d just go get him, ma’am, we could clear this all up,” Eddie was saying. The words were polite but there was an edge to them, just the tinge of a sneer on his lips. It was perfect.

“He’s mine,” he heard himself say. His mom whipped around, eyes crazed and mouth open. “Uh- I mean,” his eyes returned to Eddie standing on his doorstep. Taking in the long thick wavy hair, big brown eyes, his lips pulled into a toothy grin now. He’d clearly attempted to dress up, grey slacks and a black button down, paired with heavy combat boots. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal tattoos up his forearms and the backs of his hands. There were more tattoos on his neck, and Steve’s eyes glued themselves to the ring through his lip. Guh. “He’s, uh, here for me.”

“Hi Steve,” he watched the lips form. “Was just meeting your lovely mother.” Again there was nothing wrong with the words themselves, nothing anyone could pinpoint or take offense to. But that slithery way he said it with a razor sharp sting, Steve was impressed. He was clearly an expert at this.

Steve tried to school his own expression and voice. “My apologies. Mom, this is Eddie, my boyfriend.”

There was a long silence where he thought his mom was going to combust. She opened and closed her mouth several times, her eyebrows furrowed. He’d never seen her speechless before.

Eddie sent him a smirk and he almost matched it but his mom looked at him finally and stammered, “Y-your, ah, I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and pulled in a steadying breath. When she opened them she asked, “He’s your boyfriend?”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie answered from almost behind her now as she turned to question Steve.

“And why is it you didn’t tell us he was coming? Why is he ringing the doorbell like a stranger?”

“I, um, well I did think he’d text when he got here or something…” Steve started, meeting Eddie’s eyes over her shoulder.

“What, and miss out on this warm welcome?” Eddie winked at him but quickly settled his face when his mom turned to him. Doing the exact thing he’d hoped for, Mrs. Harrington remembering she’s leaving a guest out on her doorstep.

Steve delighted in the fact that this was going to be a chess match and his mother was already several moves behind.

Her eyes narrowed and she held a hand out to welcome Eddie in, walking them all into the foyer. “Well, don’t let me stop you, go ahead and greet your boyfriend, Steven.”

It was a challenge, he knew, but they hadn’t discussed this. Eddie was on the ball, however. He continued his momentum to slide a hand under Steve’s suit jacket to settle on his ribs and the other he brought up to cup his face, leaning in and angling their heads together. Steve tried to relax and closed his eyes. Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but from where his mom was standing she wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Hey, baby. Missed you,” he breathed when he pulled away. Steve was halfway to believing this himself.

“Yeah,” he sighed stupidly.

Eddie pulled his hands away and he almost reached back for them before stopping himself with a shake. He found he’d only gone a foot away when he opened his eyes though. Oh he was in trouble.

His mother cleared her throat from behind Eddie like she hadn’t put them up to this. Steve reached out for his hand and held onto it.

“Okay so I’m going to go introduce him to everyone else,” he said quickly and walked further into the house. Holding his hand.

They made their way through the dining room, Steve taking more and more pleasure with each stilted interaction Eddie weaved through with his family members.

His dad was propped in the living room with his uncle and Steve could feel his eyes on him as they made their way around. He knew his mother had ran to tell him all about it but he wouldn’t take being ignored well. It was making his skin crawl but he knew it would further piss off his dad so he kept it up.

After everyone else had been formally introduced to Eddie and Steve had gulped half a glass of wine, he felt almost ready to go deal with him. He took Eddie’s hand again and turned, but navigated them to the sliding glass door and outside instead.

It was chilly, late November in Indiana, but it felt amazing after the stuffiness of the house.

Steve remembered he still had Eddie’s hand in his and he quickly dropped it. “Uh, you smoke?”

Eddie grinned, all teeth and tongue as he held a battered pack of Newports out to him. “Not usually, really, but it makes for a good prop. Sorry they’re shit.”

“Holy shit. You’re amazing. I mean- perfect, I mean- fuck.” Steve laughed and shook his head. “The on-the-spot fact checking of my aunt’s political shit was next level. You could do this year round and make a killing, man.” He did pull a cigarette out of the pack and Eddie leaned into him, clicking the lighter for him, meeting his eyes as Steve sucked in.

“I don’t-“

The door slid open behind them and Mr. Harrington walked out.

“Looks like you and your date are avoiding me, Steven,” he said. Steve watched as he gave Eddie a very slow up and down look.

“No, dad. Just needed a break. It’s warm in there.” He made his face remain neutral. It’s not like anyone was cooking anything, his mom always got their big family meals catered.

His dad narrowed his eyes at him as he held eye contact, taking a drag from his bummed cigarette.

“Where is Robin today?”

He sighed. “With her family, dad. And for the last time, I’m not dating Robin. She’s a lesbian. This is Eddie, by the way. My date? He’s my boyfriend.”

When Steve had tried to come out as bisexual to his parents, his dad especially had made it clear that he did not accept that about his only child. As the years went on and he hadn’t spoken much about this part of his life, it seemed his dad had hoped it just went away.

Mr. Harrington scoffed, “I don’t understand why you want to throw your life away, Steven. I thought we’d raised you better-“ Eddie made a noise next to him and Steve knew he couldn’t look at him or he’d burst out laughing.

“Save it, dad. Believe it or not I love my life. Which is something I’d never thought I would be able to say. Can you even say that?”

His dad shook his head disappointedly and walked back inside.

“Excellent job. I don’t think you need me here after all,” Eddie joked.

Steve propped himself against the wall of the house, deeply tired from having to defend his choices to his dad for the umpteenth time.

“Maybe not need. But it’s been really fun having you here. Usually dinner conversation is about how big of a disappointment I am. Oh, I guess I didn’t give you that backstory. I’m graduating with my masters in psychology in the spring, and I’ve been early accepted into a PhD program. And there’s no money in helping people,” he chuckled. “So.” He scuffed out the butt with his heel and left it on his dad’s pristine patio.

“Steve. That’s amazing! Congratulations.” Eddie seemed genuinely excited for him and it brought a small smile to his face. “You look like you could really use a hug, man. Can I hug you?”

“Of course.” If he let himself hold on for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, Eddie allowed it.

Dinner was quiet. His uncle asked Eddie what he did for work and he enthusiastically explained he was a line cook and worked nights at a bar. Steve surreptitiously looked around to take in everyone’s expressions and quickly covered his mouth with his napkin. He actually enjoyed himself during a holiday dinner for the first time he could remember.

Eddie at one point threw an arm around the back of his chair and he leaned in a bit into him, catching the disapproving stares they got from the corner of his eye.

Pie was passed around and by then Steve had had another glass of wine or two. He reached over to thumb the whipped cream from the side of Eddie’s lip without thinking, before popping the thumb into his own mouth. Eddie’s eyes widened and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but he caught himself.

“Thanks, babe,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

After saying their awkward goodbyes to everyone, Steve walked Eddie to his van. He looked down at his feet, fiddling with his keys.

“Hey, um, this may be out of left field and let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Eddie waited for Steve to nod. “Do you want to come to my uncle’s with me tomorrow night? It’s just the two of us and he always volunteers to work the holiday. But we do a thing, you know. A-and he’s always bugging me to bring someone.”

Steve blinked. “Would it have to be a fake date? I’m not as skilled at that as you are.”

“No, I mean, it wouldn’t- god I suck. I’m actually asking, like for real. If that’s okay? Just be you. And I’ll just be me.”

“That’s very okay. I’d really like that.” He couldn’t hold back his smile. Taking the chance, he leaned in, Eddie meeting him in the middle to finally press their lips together.

#mine #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre Steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #Steve x Eddie #Steve/eddie

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scaredpigeons · 4 months

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Aqua Regia VII: Saturate me, I can’t get enough.

Previous chapter // First Chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Warning: SMUT NSFW 18+ MDNI

Word count: 5.7k

Conifer forests quake in fear at the way you two pine. What do you get when you cross a very pent up dragon and the object of his affections? So much fucking love it will rot your teeth.

CW: sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (fem rec) neuvillette has a dragon tongue, claws appear but no wounds are made, Neuvillettes nest™️ nicknames: my dearest, my darling, love, pretty girl, perfect girl, very gendered language, im sorry :( unrealistic first time sex, multiple orgasms, implied multiple rounds.

Authors note: this is so fucking mushy gushy heavy fluff heavy romance. I literally couldn’t write his first time being any other way. He’s obsessed, okay? There is a lot of declarations of love, devotion, very flowery and flattering language. There are not many things hotter than an all powerful being declaring their utter devotion to you and then fucking you until the sun rises. I left it a little open ended, so maybe an epilogue chapter, if y’all are interested? Anyways, remember to reblog and comment your thoughts! It’s my literal favourite thing to read your opinions and compliments, even if you’re shy, just send an anon ask! I love you all, thank you so much for your support on this piece.

————————————

The sound of little pearls scattering onto the floor accompanied the press of your spine against the inside of Neuvillette’s front door as his mouth consumed yours.

You were panting, hands roaming over each other as your tongues danced. You’d never kissed like this before. The polite pecks you’ve given men after failed dates were nothing compared to the way Neuvillette drank in your lips like they were the finest water in the world.

His large, lean body pushed you against the fine wood of his door, hands pressing up into your hair as he pulled your face ever closer, scattering more little pearls along his entryway.

“Do you…” he panted, lips never leaving yours for more than necessary. “Truly want tea?” He asked.

You smiled as he continued to kiss you breathless. “Tea can wait.”

He picked you up and hoisted you against him once more, your bottom resting on his forearms as he twirled you around, making you giggle and squeal.

“Your perfection knows no bounds.” He murmured against your lips as he began to move towards the stairs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you up the stairs and down the hall, but he hesitated before bringing you into what you guessed was his room.

“Ah…” he said, a deeper blush working its way into his pale skin. “I forgot about my… well you see…”

You smiled, pulling him closer to press a peck to his lips. ”What? I can hardly imagine your room is messy, Neuvillette.”

He closed his eyes tight, opening the door to set you down inside. You turned, looking around the room.

A very large four poster bed was the main focal point of the room, lush sheer curtains hanging from the tall frame, making it seem luxurious and inviting. But the piles of silks, pillows and blankets surrounding the mattress making a large circle in the center was what stood out the most to you. Taking a step closer, you could see there were little things scattered throughout the barrier, the gloves you’d gifted him last month, a few shirts and coats, little trinkets and things here and there.

Your brow furrowed before you turned to look up at him, finding him looking between you and the bed with a hand covering the lower half of his face.

“It looks like…” you glanced back at the bed. “It looks like a nest?”

He breathed, nodding, pinching his temples in embarrassment. “When you were last here, we spoke of some subtle changes I’d been experiencing since gaining my full dragonhood, yes?”

You nodded, walking towards the bed to run your hands along the fabrics making up the walls of the nest.

“I’ve been experiencing strange urges, instincts I cannot seem to control no matter how hard I try.” He said lowly, somewhere behind you.

The blanket you ran your hands across was soft, fur of some sort, and it felt so luxurious you wanted to bury your face in it and never leave its soothing embrace.

“Urges?” You said, feeling a heat pool between your thighs at the thought.

“Yes.” His voice was suddenly right by your ear, his heat pressing up against your spine. “For example, right now, seeing you next to my bed, admiring my nest— it makes me want to pick you up and place you within it so that I may crawl over top of you to do deplorable, feral and unspeakable things to you.”

A deep, spine tingling shiver raced through you. You knew the general direction of where this was headed when you begged him to take you to his house, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect Neuvillette to admit something so… dirty… so openly.

You turned, meeting his eyes with a gasp as you came face to face with a version of your leader you’d never seen.

He was flushed, panting, his eyes glowing in the moonlight streaming into his dark room. His horns were glowing too, their blue hue radiating behind him as he loomed over you. To anyone else it might’ve been intimidating, but you felt so safe in this moment, so satisfied to know that he wanted you.

“I…” you wondered how you should phrase this, how to make him understand that you were not put off in the slightest by any of these changes in him. To you, he was still Neuvillette. His draconian quirks made him all the more desirable because it was just another part of him.

“I’d like to help you satisfy those urges, if you’ll let me.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes.

Very suddenly, he dropped to his knees, his hands clutching at your dress. The act startled you, and you stumbled back, bumping into the walls of fabrics lining his nest.

”I am undeserving,” he whimpers, and your legs nearly give out at how broken he sounds in this moment, looking up at you. “I know not how to pleasure you in the way you are so deserving, I only have these instincts, these feelings pushing me to take.”

He stumbled forward, almost blindly on his knees as his eyes kept yours locked to him. He pushes his face closer to your core, inhaling deeply against the fabric of your dress, his eyes fluttering back.

“And you always smell so sweet, it eats at my very soul to not taste you at every moment of every day.” His eyes look like they’re watering, begging and pleading as he keeps talking, keeps sending waves of pleasure to your core with every word spoken.

“You deserve more than this animal I’ve become, but I cannot help that you undo me. You unravel the very stitching that I have woven over these past five hundred years and the thought terrifies me because—“ he’s panting, chest heaving, hands gripping the crushed velvet of your gown. “Because I want you so completely, so entirely. My want for you consumes my very being.”

Your heart sings, because how could it not? You didn’t have very much experience with anything like this either— really none at all. And he was worried? He was worried he was too much? Not enough? This man was the sovereign ruler of a nation. The elemental dragon of your land, a primordial being with more power than you could even begin to fathom.

“Oh, Neuvillette,” you brought a hand to cup his cheek, the very same action you made the last time you were in his home, comforting him. “Will you do something for me?”

He clutched you closer, pupils nearly consuming his irises. “I would drain the seas if you told me you did not favor the way they glimmer in the sunshine. I would blot out the sun if you told me you did not enjoy the heat on your skin. Anything, my dearest. Anything for you.”

“Give in to it.” And you swore you could feel the breath catching in his chest. “Take me and give me everything your heart desires, because I am already yours.”

”Truly?” He pleaded, seeming so small below you.

You nodded, speaking softly to him as you ran your fingertips across his cheekbone. “From the moment I entered your office Neuvillette, I’ve been yours.”

Your world flipped upside down as Neuvillette lunged, tackling you over the wall of his nest and into the bed.

He kissed you so deeply it stole your breath away, you gasped as he pulled back to mouth across your jaw, nipping at your throat.

You noticed his teeth had grown sharper during your fervent kissing, but feeling those teeth drag like little daggers against the delicate skin of your throat made you shiver with something like fear— but it was laced with arousal, with anticipation.

You moaned as he licked and sucked on your neck, and he whimpered above you, clutching your waist as he went.

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry—“ he said between kisses along your skin. “I can’t control myself, I can't—“

You reached up, grabbing his face in your hands, making him look at you.

“Neuvillette, listen to me.” His eyes fluttered between yours, searching.

“When I told you I love you, that means I love you without conditions.” You said, leaning up to kiss his lips gently. “Which means I will love you when you are poise and regal, when you are the perfect gentleman, but I will also love you when you are not.”

You could see iridescent blue scales rising into his skin, framing his eyes so beautifully. You could see them form around his throat, and his horns continued to glow. When he told you he was becoming undone, you knew he was serious, but you didn't realize what exactly that would entail.

He was beautiful. Raw and open and completely yours.

“I will love you even if you are rough, or crude, or selfish. I will not watch you suffer against your instincts when I so desperately wish to see you dive headfirst into them.”

The subtlest of tears formed in his eyes, and the rain continued to batter the windows outside, pouring down around you— the perfect symphony to accompany this moment.

“I love every aspect of you, Neuvillette. Even this. Please,” you whispered, pulling him ever closer to your lips. “Please, just take what you need. Take me.”

———————————

He does not remember how your dress and petticoat managed to find themselves sprawled across his bedroom floor, or when his gloves and shirt followed, but he does remember the delightful squeak you gave when he tore them from your body.

You were shy, of course you were— but he was having none of that, gently and selfishly pinning your arms against the bed as his eyes consumed your body, your naked skin.

You squirmed and whimpered underneath him, and part of Neuvillette worried that you weren’t enjoying yourself— but the closer he came to your lower half the more he realized that the source of that mouthwatering smell was coming from between your legs, and his mouth did indeed water.

You had told him to let go of his restraint, to give in, but he had the sense to keep part of himself in check, knowing he needed to be somewhat gentle, attentive to your needs.

What knowledge he did have of this process was from books, and even then, he thinks the last time he read a romance novel was likely over a century ago.

He knew basic anatomical structures, their functions, but putting it all into practice was another thought entirely.

Through his lust filled haze of admiring your naked body, he swallowed the drool pooling in his mouth— so barbaric.

“Tell me,” he panted. “Tell me how to make this pleasurable for you.”

You were so red, it fluttered down to your chest, and he watched as your breasts heaved with each breath. He wanted to wrap his lips around them, suck on the delicate skin, so he did.

You whined as he leaned down, and he loved the feeling of your hands mussing up his hair, pulling his golden circlet away and tossing it into the void that had captured the rest of your clothes with a clattering sound.

“You, ah—” your breaths were heavy. “You have to work me open. So you don’t tear me.”

He gripped your waist again, licking and sucking gracelessly across your chest, just enjoying the taste of your skin.

“How?” He asked, tonguing his way down to your navel, slipping his tongue around the skin of your adorable stomach. Your skin tasted like pure relief, calming the aching fever inside of him one motion of his tongue at a time.

“F-fingers?” You said, looking down at his hands. He looked too, and you both seemed to notice at the same time that his hands weren’t exactly… normal anymore.

Those pesky scales had wound up coating his hands too, he could feel them aching around his eyes and throat, his nails forming long black claws that dragged the faintest red lines along your perfect skin.

“Hah— yeah,” you breathed a panicked laugh, making his chest flutter with anxiety. “Maybe no fingers this time.”

“What about my tongue?” He said, looking between your eyes and the apex of your thighs. He wanted so desperately to make this good for you, but he couldn't deny that the thought of tasting that delicious smell directly from the source was a more than appetizing idea.

You groaned, throwing your hands up to cover your flushed face. “You say it so casually, too—“

“Would you enjoy it if I used my tongue, darling?”

He watched your thighs clench the best they could with him between your legs, and your hands started shaking.

“Yes,” you whimpered, hands still covering your heated face. “Yes please.”

Your thighs quivered as he shifted down, his nostrils flaring as he came face to face with your covered core.

There was a small damp spot on the soft cotton covering you, and he brought his nose directly to it, inhaling deep and groaning as you whined.

He was truly drooling now, and the desire to taste you became too overwhelming for him to wait any longer.

The cotton was shredded off your body in delicate ribbons in the wake of his claws, but before you could react, his tongue was already swiping over the entire length of you.

“Oh!” Your back arched sinfully off the bed, your hands gripping into his hair as he swallowed and sucked and licked over you. You tasted like perfection. No water in the world could taste as crisp and pure as you did— like sweet ambrosia, like everything he never knew he needed until now.

He tongued over your clitoris, and you seemed to like that the most, keening out as he increased the pressure. But you said you needed to be worked open, which meant…

He pressed his tongue lower, circling it around your twitching hole. You jumped, your nails scraping his scalp— making him moan into you. Your fingers flexed around the base of his horns, and his whole body shuddered as he listened to you whine and keen.

He pressed in then, eyes blowing wide as a warm, tight heat enveloped the tip of his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further, pulling himself closer to press more of himself inside you.

”Neuvillette!” You gasped out as he pushed in further. Even so, He couldn't help but feel like it wasn’t enough, like you needed more.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, his tongue seemed to expand, thickening and rolling out into your twitching walls even further. He’d never felt a change like that before, but he kept going, moving and undulating it within your tight heat and savoring the taste of you so deep.

”Holy—“ you screeched, “Oh my Archons!”

A deep, chest rumbling growl reverberated from where Neuvillette was pressed into your core, and even though he knew it wasn’t truly a problem, something inside him did not enjoy hearing those words slip from your precious lips.

But you told him to let go, so he truly did lean into his instincts.

He pulled his tongue from within you, letting its new length dangle from his mouth a bit before licking up all the slick that had smeared across his face, delighted at the way your eyes popped and your mouth gaped open.

“There are no pathetic gods here, little one.” He growled, that primal aching welling up in his chest. “Only me.”

“N-Neuvillette,” you stuttered, hands grabbing at his hair as you tried to pull him between your legs again. “Please—“

“Better.”

He dove back in, using the new length of his tongue to thrust in and out of your dripping hole. He could feel your soft walls relaxing, and a deep, rumbling purr pulled from his chest as you writhed and moaned beneath him.

Tasting you like this, feeling you move and cry out beneath his hold… it was slowly soothing the ache inside of him that had been tormenting him for months. He could feel himself twitching in his pants, his cock pressing against the confines as it leaked all over the fine material of his pants and briefs.

In the back of his mind, he was grateful he had enough of a grip on his form to not be sporting one of his more… alarming draconic features, surely that would frighten you far too much to continue. Well, perhaps another time.

He continued his thrusting, working you open and relishing in the wetness coating his tongue, in the way you cried out his name, your fingertips brushing against his horns as you pulled at his hair. It only served to make him drool more, soaking you even further.

“Neuvillette—“ you keened as he arched his tongue upwards, feeling your walls clench and quiver around him. He repeated the motion, making you slap your hands down to the bed beside you, grasping at the sheets as your eyes popped wide.

He continued to press against the spot that seemed to make you fall deeper into your pleasure, his eyes never leaving your face as he thrust his tongue with vigor, watching as you quivered.

Yes, something inside him purred, watching you lose yourself. Keep going, take it from her.

He felt the moment your walls tightened so completely that he thought something might be wrong— only to watch as your face shattered into a broken sob of pure delight, your whole body twitching as you cried out. Your thighs tried to clamp around his head, but he pressed further, working you through it with his writhing tongue.

After a few moments of him working you through the height of your pleasure, you grasped at his hair again, only now you were pushing him back, gasping as your body violently twitched.

“Too much—“ you squeaked. “T-too much!”

He pulled back from you, licking your remaining juices from his lips as he watched you regain your breath.

You threw an arm over your eyes, your every breath heaving in your chest as parts of your body twitched in the aftershocks.

He crawled over your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he purred and murmured against your skin to comfort you.

”Your taste is divine,” he whispered. “Better than I ever could have dreamed, and my dreams were always drenched in your image.”

“I—“ you sighed, finally pulling air into your chest unlabored. “I dream of you too.”

“Oh?” He purred, smiling against your skin as he ran his hands down your arms. “And what exactly do you dream of, dearest?”

You smiled, staring up at the ceiling and avoiding his gaze with flushed cheeks.

“Your eyes.” You whispered, glancing down at him. “I dream of the way you look at me.”

———————

You knew this was going to be a lot.

Neuvillette is not a small man by any stretch of the imagination, but you always figured he would at least be a reasonable size — whatever that may be.

Clearly your expectations were a little on the small side, because when he unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down and off his body, exposing his naked skin in all its glory, your eyes ached with how wide they were staring openly at the apex of his creamy white thighs.

Flushed a ruddy purplish red at the tip, it was literally leaking as he knelt between your spread legs. It twitched—he must’ve noticed your staring, and you chewed on your bottom lip, wondering how in all the abyss you were supposed to fit that thing inside of you.

Neuvillette was panting. He looked irrevocably desperate, like he was ready to burst at the seams at any moment.

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered, spreading your thighs further for him.

He hadn’t touched you since he took his pants off, just staring down at you as you drank him in, watching your reactions.

“Are…” he seemed strained, like the words themselves pained him. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” you whined. “Please, inside me, I want you inside.”

He seemed to bite back a groan, eyes roaming over your soaked core, your blush traveling down your chest. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips.

It was delicate, loving, nothing like the unrestrained devouring before, but it still seemed like he was holding himself back. A beautiful bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Neuvillette,” you murmured against his lips. “Please, I want it. I trust you, I want you, please.”

Your pleading seemed to stir him, and you could feel the hot press of his length against your aching hole. You didn't know what it would feel like, the anticipation making you tense up and hold your breath.

“Breathe, my love.” Neuvillette said, though he himself was shaking as his hands held him up above you. “Relax, breathe.”

You released a breath and the tension from your spine, melting into the pillows as he chose that moment to breach your entrance, the slick pooling out of you allowing him to slide the crown in with no resistance.

You keened, your back arching as you felt the first push. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!”

Neuvillette was still shaking, his voice quivering and yet he still found it within himself to chuckle, low and deep as his eyes fluttered across your face, drinking in your pleasured reactions.

“Such vulgar language,” he breathed. “Where’d my polite little assistant go?”

You swear your eyes were about to bulge out of your skull as he pushed another inch in, slowly, his body vibrating above you in restraint.

It wasn’t hurting, but the stretch was so intense it was turning your brain into mush. You never swear in front of Neuvillette, gods, you never curse in front of anyone but Wriothesley, but your brain seems to short circuit as Neuvillette enters your body one delicious inch at a time.

You were thankful you told him to stretch you out, thankful for that gods forsaken tongue that just came out of nowhere, long and thick and surprisingly serpentine.

“P-politeness isn’t really…” you tossed your head back in the blankets as he sunk in further. “Isn’t really my main focus… r-right now.”

“Ah, yes.” Neuvillettes words spoke confidence, but his voice was shaking, his arms vibrating as they held him above you. “We have more pressing things to focus on at the moment, don’t we?”

You groaned, half in embarrassment at his wordplay and half at the way he pulled out a bit just to press back in further.

He just licked up the column of your throat, that ridiculously long tongue making your whole body shiver in delight as he pressed in further.

“Holy f—“ you grabbed his forearms, leaning up the best you could to look down at where your bodies were connected. “How much more is there? It’s so… so…”

Your stomach flipped at how much you still had to go, how little your brain could comprehend that this weapon was supposed to fit inside you.

“Do you need me to stop, my darling? Is it too much for you?” Neuvillette breathed against your neck. His words spoke one thing, but it was like his body was screaming for you to say anything but.

“No!” You panicked a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him against your lips, kissing him filthy. “Please, don’t stop.”

It took a couple more minutes of gentle thrusting, the rough texture of this thumb swirling against your throbbing clit and some very messy kisses, but when his hips finally pushed flush against yours, your eyes rolled back in your head, mind finally vacating all thought in favor focusing on how blindingly full you felt.

“Oh,” Neuvillette breathed. “—My darling. My sweet, sweet girl.” His hips were frozen, probably taking in how you clenched around him, because you could feel it— the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around his length as he remained motionless.

He twitched, and you keened, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring his face level with yours, panting into his mouth. “Please,” you whined. “Please move.”

He shuddered before hesitantly bringing his hips back, watching your every breath as he pressed forward again.

The deep, guttural moan it pulled from your chest must have flipped some kind of switch within him, because all sense of hesitancy seemed to drain from his body as his hips began a desperate rhythm, smacking against yours.

“Ah!” Your back arched, eyes rolling into your skull as he finally, finally fucked you. “Neuvi— Neuvillette!”

His eyes seemed glazed over with emotions, looking down at you with so much wonder. His expression was strained, breaths coming short as his hands snaked down to your hips, leaning back up and away from your grip.

The change in angle, though minuscule, drastically altered the way his cock pummeled your insides. It was intense before, your mind was nearly floating in the clouds— but now his cock bullied itself along your most sensitive spot and pressed so deep within you, you were sure you could nearly taste it.

”Perfect,” he breathed. “My perfect, perfect girl. So warm and tight— it's like you were made to take me.”

Your brain had exited the atmosphere, and was now drifting away into the deep nothingness of space. You swore you could feel your orgasm welling in the pit of your core, making your legs shake where they were perched on Neuvillettes hips.

“It— it feels so good,” your words were starting to slur, your vision hazy with unshed tears of pure ecstasy as you blinked up at him. “I n-never— I never wanna stop. I want this forever.”

His hips never faltered, not even once as he shuddered and groaned, the sound making you clench down around him even more. His hands gripped your waist tighter, the black claws digging into your skin, sure to leave marks.

A possessive sort of noise rumbled from his chest, his eyes flaring with need.

“I’ll give you all of myself until the end of time,” he murmurs, voice full of deep, rasping need. “Tell me you’re mine, I’ll give you everything.”

Your heart welled, your eyes blinking tears as your legs shook harder.

“I’m yours,” you cried. “I love you, Neuvillette. I’m yours.”

He pushed at your legs, hands grabbing your thighs to press them up and forward, nearly folding you in half as you sobbed out in pleasure. Your body ached, your orgasm now on the very precipice as he managed to fuck into you even deeper than before, and you didnt know how it was possible.

“Again.” He growled.

“I’m yours!” You keened.

His hands pressed harder into your thighs, his face leaning closer to yours. Through your haze, you could see how his pupils were blown wide, consuming all of his otherworldly irises. You could see how deeply he looked at you, drinking in your trembling form.

“Mine.” He whispered.

And that was all it took for the fraying cord inside you to snap.

You screamed into the darkness of his room, writhing and shaking as it pulsed through you, all consuming and more intense than anything you’d ever felt in your life. He gasped, muttering something in a language you didn't recognize as his hips stuttered. He pushed you through it, the mind melting pleasure pulsing out into your limbs, making you go limp into the bed.

His eyes were wild, and his pace slowed, hands holding onto you like you would slip away if he didn’t.

“My love,” he moaned, desperate as the fluttering aftershocks worked through you, your body twitching in the sensitive overstimulation. “My love, I want to— I need—“

“Inside me,” your voice cracked, hoarse from how loud you’d been in your revelry, but it only seemed to spur him on. “Please, inside me.”

And within the last three stuttering strokes, he was gone, his forehead pressing into yours as he leaned forward and moaned, long and wrecked and obscene. It made you flutter around him, milking him absolutely dry as he filled and filled and filled you.

You could feel it, hot and heavy— each jerk of him inside you coating you further, marking you in white, in the deepest places as his.

He was mumbling, his face moving to press into the curve of your neck and shoulder. Dazed, you couldn’t tell what he was saying— whether he was speaking in another language or if you were just too out of it to register his words.

You lifted an arm to rest on his back, feeling the heat and the sweat of him. Unfazed, you drag your hand up and down his shoulder blades, relishing in the feeling of his skin, his breath as he murmurs against your neck.

As your breath finally steadied in your lungs, no longer struggling, you ran your hands through his long, luscious hair, fingertips ghosting his horns.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said aloud, clear and in a language you understood. “I’m sorry.”

”What for?” You smiled, trying to get him to look at you. When you finally pried him from the crook of your shoulder, your heart skipped a beat at how flushed he still was, how guilty he looked.

It was then that you realized he was still inside you, still hard as before, twitching and throbbing as he held himself above you.

“You begged me to take you,” he breathed, clawed hands pulling at the sheets. “And I can’t help but crave more.”

————————————

The sun had just begun rising over the dewy cypress trees by the time Neuvillette sat in the warm bath, cradling you in his arms.

You twitched and groaned in displeasure as he ran the washcloth along your heated skin, but he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride at the marks scattered along your body.

He’d been too afraid to hurt you, but after the moan you let out when his teeth accidentally scraped across your collarbone during the second round, (or was it the third?) he’d lost all sense of decency. You seemed to like them as well, and you certainly liked when he ran his tongue across the red and purple splotches to soothe them. So, c’est la vie.

Your head lolled against his shoulder, you were barely conscious at this point, and he wanted to feel guilty, he really did. But you’d begged and begged and begged for him to take what he needed, how could he refuse?

He pulled the glass bottle he’d brought from the cooler to your lips, stirring you a bit to prompt you to drink.

“Please, my love. You need to rehydrate.” He smiled at the way you pouted, But opened your lips to take tentative sips anyways, your eyes still closed.

He watched a trail of water slip past your lax lips and run down your chin and throat, his eyes carefully following the movement. He swallowed deeply, willing away the erection that was still threatening the dark corners of his willpower.

He could honestly keep going, he couldn't get enough of you, but you were still so fragile, so incredibly mortal. He knew that he had to stop, give you a moment of reprieve. Force himself to behave until your sweet voice would sing to him again, begging him for more. He licked his lips at the thought.

“Are… are your urges… satisfied?” You mumbled as he pulled the bottle away. You cuddled up to him, so sleepy.

He thought very carefully on how to reply to you.

“For now, yes. They are, darling.” He finally said. “But I believe I will always desire you as strongly as I did then— as I do now, still.”

You gave a sleepy smirk, your eyes still closed as you snuggled closer to him, your bare skin pressed so beautifully against his.

This— this was perfect. He didn't think anything else could compare to the feeling of being inside you, so connected to your body and in tune with your emotions. But this… being with you, holding you and caring for you… it was just as beautiful. His heart felt full, and for the first time in months, he didn’t feel restless.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He said, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed wistfully. “Which part? Because when you said you were going to ‘spend the rest of your existence finding new ways to make me shatter into millions of delicious little pieces,’ I was rather inclined to believe you.”

He felt his cheeks heat a little. “Ah, well. I meant all of that too. But I’m referring to something I said earlier on in the evening.”

Your voice was wavering, and he could see sleep pulling at you, tugging you into its embrace one sleepy blink at a time. “Which part, my love?”

His chest still fluttered at those words, despite both of your endless proclamations of devotion and love last night, he was still so blissful at the prospect of being yours, of you being his. His love.

“The bit where I told you that I would give you all of me until the end of time. That I’ll give you everything.”

“Mm,” you said, eyes closed and words loose. “I know.”

He ran his hands along your back, his skin finally calmed down closer to the end of the night, his scales and claws retracting and freeing his fingers for nefarious purposes. But now, he was enjoying feeling your smooth skin against his own.

“I have things I must do, duties to this realm beyond that of my role as Iudex. It will be a long and perilous road, a road uneasy for myself and those I love. But in this, as in every other aspect of my life— I feel as though if you stood beside me, it would lighten the burden. You make every part of my life better, and I would be honored to have you beside me for the rest of time.”

He wasn’t sure how, but if he could free the people of Fontaine from their curse, surely he could find a way to keep you with him, if you so wished.

“Your voice is pretty,” you sighed. “I love you,” you were mumbling, and he realized you were already rather deep in the clutches of sleep, likely not even hearing a word he’d said.

He smiled, breathing out a sigh as he kissed the top of your head once more.

“Sleep well, my darling.”

La Fin.

—————————————————————

Authors Note: remember to drop a comment with your thoughts! I love you guys so much 🖤

#genshin impact #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvillette smut #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader smut #fem reader #neuvillette fluff #genshin impact smut

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literaila · 26 days

Note

if satoru and reader would have a baby in the future... i cannot imagine the process of them making one 😭 i feel like they'd just sit on their bed, looking at each other awkwardly

"so... what now?"

they are in love you know—

“mmm, no,” you whisper, curling into satoru’s side. your head is a bit light, and your eyes feel… soft, too far gone to come back.

“i’ll be right back,” satoru says, but he makes no effort to unclasp your fingertips from him, or plot an escape.

no, rather, satoru likes it right here. right next to you, with your skin hot enough to keep both of you warm. even without the blankets.

he likes you slightly panting, hair sticking to your head, limbs lithe and immovable.

he loves you so much, it’s almost unbearable. it’s almost painful—too feel this close to another person, to be right with them.

“sleeping.”

“you need some water. and i’m all sticky.”

“who’s fault is that?” you mumble, digging your nose into his arm. it’s not very comfortable, too hard, too muscly.

still, you don’t move away. only burrow yourself even further into him—the muscles make it better, you think, amiss the other love-drunk thoughts.

“not mine.”

“yours.”

“i’ll just be gone a second,” he whispers, rubbing a hand down your side, trailing it back up the slope of your body. his fingers are so smooth, scarily soft for a sorcerer. “you won’t even notice.”

“i’m cold.”

“you’re definitely not cold.”

“you’re supposed to take care of me,” you whine, pushing his hand off.

satoru laughs. “i’m trying. just let me.”

“go to sleep, satoru,” you reach a blind hand up to his head, pushing. “lay down.”

“do you need a snack too? i think we’ve got some cut up fruit. or some crackers? how are you feeling?”

“why are you so annoying?”

“you’re the one who’s always going on and on about aftercare and being considerate and—“

“well, after i don’t care,” you attempt to bite his forearm when he pulls away. “cuddle me.”

“i will. you need to get up and use the bathroom too.”

you feign a snore, rolling over to bury your face in the pillow.

it smells like satoru—sweet and unnerving, somehow—and sweat. you wince and flip over.

when you open one eye. satoru is already staring down at you, rolling his shoulders and messing with his hair.

his smile is sickly. his eyes somehow dimmer, but gleaming right at you.

like you’ve lowered his volume, calmed his soul for just this moment. you’ve tamed the beast.

the thought almost makes you laugh aloud.

“please don’t look at me,” you tell him, closing that very same eye. “it makes me nauseous. especially with your freaky eyes.”

“you’re so beautiful.”

you can feel yourself heating up again, unwilling to be coerced into his schemes. you’ve tamed him—not the other way around. satoru has no saying power here.

you shake your head. “i said, don’t look.”

“can’t help it,” satoru whispers, and he’s leaning over you now, one knee as his support while he hovers over you.

satoru kisses your lips, quick and smooth, soft and completely perfect. you want to sigh into him. you want to breathe every breath with his oxygen, want to fall completely into him until you reach rock bottom.

“seriously,” satoru’s voice is too warm, too comforting. “how are you feeling?”

“tired. sore…” you pause, leaning up to kiss him again. luckily, satoru relents, though you can hear the furrow of his brows. “happy.”

your eyelashes flutter and you can feel his grin. he kisses up the side of your head, humming.

“i’ll bring you some pain tablets. i’ll be right back, okay? and then i’ll walk you to the bathroom.”

“such a gentleman.”

“the gojo clan raised me right,” he goads, and you laugh into the bare skin of his shoulder.

“i raised you right,” you correct, hugging him just like this. you might feel like any sudden movement couls collapse your bodies entire foundation, but satoru has always made you push past your own limits.

you would mold your skin to his if you weren’t so tired. you just might do it anyway.

“you have,” he murmurs, just as love-drunk as you. you can hear it in his voice. “you’re a good teacher.”

“i know.”

“good mom, too.”

you lean back, giving him a soft smile. “yeah?”

“the best,” he kisses the edge of your nose. “you’re going to make the most beautiful baby.”

you try to hide your face in his neck, feeling too close, too hot when he’s right there. but satoru doesn’t let your eyes escape his. “so are you.”

“well, obviously.”

you laugh, and satoru’s teeth almost clash with yours—that’s how hard he’s smiling.

“one second, okay?”

“okay.”

“you’ll wait for me?”

“i’ll wait.”

“don’t fall asleep,” satoru tells you, somewhat of a command. but the three words sound a lot more fond, a lot more intimate to you—

i love you, he says, like he hasn’t already it a dozen times tonight. like it’s more than the hundreds of sweet nothings he already wrote on your skin.

and you wait for him to come back, sore, and tired, and so unbelievably happy.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #a typical family #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #jjk x reader

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daycourtofficial · 1 month

Text

Amber eyes, looking into mine

Summary: Eris finds something in his study that triggers him into a frozen state of panic. Who better suited to pulling Eris from his past than his future?

Author’s note: I wrote this in under an hour so please be nice and if there are any typos, no there aren’t 💕 Also technically this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read alone and she doesn’t make an appearance, it’s all Eris and the baby okay byeee

TW: panic attack, mentions of being whipped and being burnt

Word count: ~1k

A trade agreement sat on his desk, one that predates his tenure as high lord. Eris had found the document stuffed away in a drawer, abandoning what he was searching for as soon as he recognized it.

His father’s large, obnoxious signature at the bottom, the ridiculously high tariffs on imported goods. He could hear the whip in his ears, feeling his body tense with memory.

It was all too much. He had spoken with his father about the deal, wanting to give incentives for traders to come into Autumn rather than deterrents. Beron had laughed at him, telling him that everything anyone needs can be found in Autumn.

The night hadn’t ended there.

Beron had whipped him for having such a ridiculous idea in front of the other courtiers.

“No son of mine will appear so idiotic before others,” he had said, his voice ringing in Eris’s ears.

Eris was seated in his chair in his study, but his mind was elsewhere. Down deep, deep in the dungeons of the Forest House, a trek he made many nights, his blood dripping through the house as he limped back to his own chambers.

Chubby hands grip the fabric of his trousers, a body too small traveling up his legs, climbing for what they love most in this world. Little feet find their footing on his thighs, hands leaning against his torso to support their weight.

Amber eyes look at him, searching for praise at the impossible task they just completed.

His eyes.

What his eyes used to look like, before Beron burnt the joy out of them.

Eris is frozen in place, caught in a spiral of hatred and loathing by his son. His beautiful, wonderfully funny son, who looks at him with the love and adoration his mother looks at him with.

If his son knew all that he had done to prevent Beton’s ire, would his eyes still look for Eris in every room? Would his eyes still fill with tears, his lungs exhaling every breath at bedtime, unable to sleep without seeing his father one last time?

The spitting image of him, his mother finding an old portrait of himself at this age, his son a direct image of the portrait. Was this how he looked when Beron began his tirade of cruelty against his family? Did soft coos of a babe turn into wails at any contact with Beron?

All he had ever known was the flame, the flame within himself that refused to be extinguished, and the flames his father tormented him with for centuries.

He feels those flames on his skin, his own flame desperate to fight it. He feels the heat licking up his forearms, he feels it cascading down his back in waves, searching for every inch of unclaimed skin. He clenches his fists, desperate to bring himself back to reality. Instead, his breathing becomes more ragged, his jaw clenching.

He can smell the flesh burning off of him, feel his stomach churning, his throat filling with bile at the smell, so strong he could taste it.

Tiny fingers grip into his hair, yanking lightly, trying to find balance. The feeling jolts him back, back from the past, back from a place that doesn’t exist anymore.

The babe stands in his lap, toes gripping his trousers as he tries to learn how to use them. A warmth so unnatural from something so young radiates off of his son. A tear splashes onto the little foot, which the babe immediately burns off.

Giggles fill the room at his show of his powers and Eris is finally able to move again as he wraps his arms around the young princeling, so unaware of how the world can burn.

He holds him in a tight embrace, squishing his face into the tiny neck, breathing him in. He gives himself five seconds, clutching the clothes covering the babe’s chest.

Five.

He breathes in deeply, his chest heaving with sobs that escape his mouth.

Four.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. It had never been fair. Nothing was fair.

Three.

It took hours to kill Beron, centuries of scheming, and his presence was still felt throughout the court, throughout him-

He feels something cold and wet on his neck, tiny hands still gripping his hair, but his son is slobbering across his neck, his cheek, the movement tickling Eris’s neck. He laughs as he realizes that his son is mimicking how they make him laugh by blowing raspberries into his neck, his cheeks, his stomach.

He delicately pulls the face from his neck, leaning his forehead against his firstborn’s forehead. His eyes are wide with wonder. Everything is new to him and the worst thing he’s experienced is dropping his favorite toy in a mud puddle.

He looks at his father, not sure what to make of him, until Eris slowly smiles at him, his eyes lightening with fondness, catching a bit of the spark from his son’s eyes.

And the baby in his arms smiles back, grabbing Eris’s nose in excitement as he babbles noncoherent sounds. Eris stretches his legs out, sinking into his chair a bit, letting his back relax into the chair. Eris responds to the babbling, occasional hums and responses to whatever he was trying to convey to his father.

Someday, the words would come. They would flow freely, spilling from his mouth in anger, in sadness, in disbelief. They would come more easily, small things setting off his memories and not allowing him to think of anything until they left him. He would share the burden of his memories.

Someday, the words would come. But not today. Today the incoherent babbling was enough.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra fanfic #acotar fanfiction #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader

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ameliathornromance · 3 months

Text

“(Y/N), what is that?”

Your Orc Boyfriend pointed to the bundle in your arms. A small, innocent smile crept onto your lips. “I… Brought back a baby?”

You had been on a stroll, alone. Your Orc Boyfriend was stuck doing boring wood chopping work. Normally, you would read, but you had just finished reading your favourite book for the third time and there were no reading materials available for you. So, you decided to go on a walk.

It was a rather new pass time for you.

You enjoyed some alone time, away from the others and the quietness of nature. Despite finding comfort in the grunts and growls of Orcs working and thudding about the camp, there were moments when you yearned for a more subdued ambiance, particularly at night.

And so that’s how your walks began.

You knew and followed only the safest Orc routes through the countryside.

But as you walked, faint cries called to you. You had frowned. A baby, crying? Mindful of a trap, you tiptoed in the direction of the crying.

“There are dangers out in the woods. Do not stray from our regular paths.” Your Boyfriend had warned you before you left.

All kinds of things lurked in the woods, from fellow Orc camps to Witches, you could never be too cautious. Anyone would do anything to capture a lone human woman. Regardless of where she'd come from.

Your feet were silent against the moss covered ground. The cries drew closer, and closer, and that’s when you found it. A bundle held the tiniest form you’d ever seen. The baby was pasty pale, wriggling and screaming at the top of it's lungs.

You swiftly stooped and scooped up the poor thing, cradling it. “It’s okay!” You shushed. “You’re okay! I’m here, don’t worry.” Looking over your shoulder, you knew you couldn't just leave the poor thing alone out there.

So you made your way back home, baby in hand. Other Orcs gave you odd looks upon your return with the baby, but no one said anything.

The baby had calmed down by this point and appeared content to have finally received someone's attention.

Noticing that your boyfriend was still busy at work with wood chopping, you made your way back to your shared tent and waited for him to finish.

In the meantime, you wrapped up the child in animal skins and tried to think of something to feed it.

Your boyfriend came in later in the evening. And here you are now.

“It was all alone, someone left it in the forest…” you explained. Worry crept over you.

Finding food had become more challenging. Winter was about to set in. The crops were dying, animals were being herded into more secluded places.

The entire encampment fought to provide enough food and water for everyone. And now you had brought a new born.

Your Orc Boyfriend said nothing. He approached, towering above both you and the small thing in your arms. You expected him to be angry. Upset because you brought back another mouth to feed.

“And it was all alone?” He asked you. His voice rumbled through your chest. All you could manage in reply was a weak nod.

“Humans are pathetic.” Your Orc Boyfriend scoffed.

Before you could stop him, your Orc had scooped the baby up in his own arms and peered down at it. “How could they abandon something so vulnerable?”

“You’re not angry?” You asked, surprised.

“No. Even an Orc would ensure the child's safety.” He grumbled. The baby stared up at him, expressionless. Before a huge grin over took its face, hands stretched out.

Your Orc chuckled, holding a finger out for the baby to take. It did so and giggled, flexing the finger up and down with ease.

"What about food?" You asked, placing a hand on your Orc's forearm. The both of you watched the baby investigate your partners finger.

"I will deal with that. Since this is new born, I will make sure it gets the care it needs." Once the baby had lost interest in his hand, your Orc Boyfriend cupped your face. "You did the right thing, my love. I'm glad you brought it back."

Your heart swelled with pride, "thank you."

"We shall raise it to be a strong and powerful warrior!" Your Orc grinned, tusks jutting out of his bottom lip. He raised the baby high in the air, it let out a shriek of delight.

You sighed as your Orc returned to cooing at the baby. You truly had a wonderful boyfriend, didn't you?

Sequel

#orc fiction #orc x reader #monster x female #monster x you #orc boyfriend #orc romance #monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster lover #orc #orc x female!reader #orc x human

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

MORE FREEUSE JOEL PLEAKSE

Bail (Free use)

850 words / Joel x f!Reader / master

CW: unsafe P in V, consensual somnophilia, consensual objectification, very light manhandling. Sleep anon. I8 mdni

Joel gets a call from Tommy in the middle of the night. Again. He’s pissed but tries not to wake you up as he goes to bail Tommy out. When Joel gets back, he’s tense and wound up and knows he won't be able to sleep for a while.

But you. You're resting peacefully, head on your pillow. Fast asleep, not a care on your pretty face. You turn over and sigh in your slumber, and Joel twitches with the knowledge that this beautiful creature is his. All his. And your body is all he needs to calm down.

He carefully undresses. He doesn't feel like talking and prefers to let his intrusion wake you up. By the time he’s nude, he's at full mast, hand wrapped around his swollen shaft, in desperate need of release. He pulls down the comforter leaving just the sheet on top of you.

"Cold," you mumble and curl up in a ball.

“Shhhhh. I’m comin’, baby.”

Joel slides into the bed behind you and you stir in your sleep. "What happened?" You murmur.

"Shhhhhh. It's okay." He'd really rather you not talk. You settle again with a little sigh.

You're curled up on your side. He slides his hand down your side and lets out an exasperated sigh when he reaches your panties.

"Why to bed," he mutters to himself.

He grabs a handful your ass, can't help himself, and takes your panties down. He yanks the bottom side of them out from under you and tugs them down almost to your knees to make room for himself.

He presses his warm chest against your back, then he uncurls your body. He aligns your legs with his so he can feel your soft, smooth skin against his lightly hairy legs. He gets frustrated with the panties, tugs them down past your knees, then uses his foot to push them off altogether and fixes your legs again. He reaches around and presses on your mound to tilt your hips for access, then he dips his middle finger into your pussy to see how wet you are. He gathers saliva and spits into his fingertips. That'll do until your body obliges. He wets his cock, nestles the tip at your entrance, then wraps his arm over you.

He holds you so your back is firmly against him for leverage, then sinks his stiff member into your tight little hole as far as it'll go. You sigh and the sweet sound makes him swell even harder. His forearm and elbow dig into your torso as he pushes further and you moan as he bottoms out, filling you up completely. You're probably waking up now, but mercifully, you don't squirm or say anything.

Your warmth wrapped around him sends a rush through his body. On another night, he might stay just like that. Have you keep his cock warm all night. But he has too much pent up tension.

His first few thrusts are slow, letting your wetness gather around his cock. And when it's slick enough, he picks up the intensity, ramming all the way into you every second or so with a grunt. He gropes your tits as he pounds you with all his pent up frustration. The force of his hips moves you up toward the headboard until he takes his hand from your breast and curls it around your shoulder instead, pulling you down on his cock as he pistons into you faster and harder.

Fully awake now, you silently extend your own hand to brace yourself on the headboard. You tilt your hips to help his angle and he breathes, "fuck, perfect" as he pummels you with his full length. He slows down the rhythm but adds even more power, slamming into you over and over, to the hilt each time. The intensity is startling but welcome. He's obviously fucking away some frustrations so he can sleep. It's not the first time and it won't be the last. You don't mind waking up to the stretch of his girth when he fucks you this good.

He holds you tight, cupping a breast. He breathes heavily, vocally, grunting, "Mm" each time your bodies are flush, or "Ah." The head of his cock nudges the right spot inside you and you twitch, then contract around him.

"Shit," he whispers. He's not done pounding his frustration into you, and he knows he won't be far behind when you come.

You try not to make a noise but a soft sigh spills out as you're riding your high. He grabs desperately at your breasts and gnaws wetly at the nape of your neck as he plunges into you hard and deep. Then groans as he bottoms out and pulses heavily inside you, spilling his seed in huge bursts. He sighs and his arm loosens around you.

After a couple of minutes, the rhythm of his breathing slows. As his dick softens inside you, his cum begins to trickle out. You slowly, carefully start to reach for a tissue, not wanting to disturb him. But his arm tightens before you can move an inch. He would let you move if you said something, but instead you stay put and relax into him.

"I love you, baby," he whispers sleepily into your hair.

"Love you, too."

Within minutes, he's snoring.

Use the #free use!Joel☠️ tag for previous stories with this Joel. For free use OF Joel look at my objectification HCs.

As always, thank you so much for your engagement! 🖤 I always notice and appreciate every comment and reblog even if I don't comment.

PLEASE CHECK YOUR CONTENT SETTINGS. Many of my posts seem to get flagged very quickly now even if they aren't explicit (like lincoln 1) so if you don't want to miss anything, you might want to follow me and check my profile regularly (filter to "my fics" from my header) or get on the joel tag list (AFTER looking at my library and making sure you're okay with ultra dark)

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #free use!joel☠️#toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #dark!joel #dark!joel miller #pedro pascal smut

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fallinallincurls · 3 months

Text

pancakes for two, i will always love you

this is my (late) entry for demi's lowkey lovefest 2k24! thank you so much for hosting this fun little challenge @wyattjohnston!

this fic is also a belated birthday gift to the amazing @desiredposion!! inspiration struck and i had to make the most of it so i hope you love this! this was also my first time writing for nico which was so much fun.

prompt used: "don't ever stop looking at me like that."

heavily inspired by the lyrics "maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two, hash brown, egg yolk, i will always love you" from keep driving by harry styles

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.3k+

~~~~~

Dating a professional hockey player means that slow mornings are a rarity. Usually, Nico is up and out the door for morning skate before your eyes even open. But today, you’re lucky enough to get the extra time in bed with the man you love for the first time in what feels like forever.

As sunlights bathes the room in a subtle, but beautiful golden glow, you snuggle in closer to Nico in an effort to absorb the heat radiating from his body. His strong arms tighten around you instinctively and even though his eyes remain closed, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“Morning, Neeks.”

“Mm,” He hums contently, making you giggle and you relish in the rough feeling of his scruff against your skin. You card a hand through his tousled hair, earning a soft moan in response.

“Come on, schatzi.” He murmurs, dragging out the syllables of each word as a slight smirk appears on his lips. “You know how much I like it when you play with my hair.”

“Oh trust me, I know.” You chuckle, moving your hand to his cheek just as Nico lifts his head and his gorgeous brown eyes meet yours. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, the playfulness that was evident just seconds ago fading even though the identical tender smiles on your faces continue to grow.

“We don’t get to do this enough.” Nico whispers, gaze never leaving yours as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. You rest a hand on his bare chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and try to commit every detail about this moment to memory. Nothing but pure adoration rushes through your veins as you admire the beautiful man next to you.

“That’s okay. It makes these rare mornings that much more special.”

“I’m going to tell the team we can’t ever have practice until after 10 at the earliest.” Nico grins, his dimples appearing as he laughs at his own little joke.

“You have that power as captain?” You tease, pressing a kiss to his nose, his cheek, and finally his lips. Nico smiles into the kiss before deepening it for a few seconds, bringing out that familiar need for him.

“I don’t really know, but I deserve some more time with my girl so I’ll make it a rule. I don’t care what anyone says.” He mumbles against your lips, voice low and still full of sleep.

Your heart swells as you drink in the sight of your boyfriend. Nico’s eyes are sparkling with love and his sweet smile is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. His hair is a mess but somehow still looks perfect and you absentmindedly trace shapes on his shoulder, feeling the well toned muscles there.

He is a dream. And despite all odds, you’re the lucky one who gets to love him every single day. That’s something you’ll never take for granted because you never thought you’d find someone as kind, caring and amazing as Nico.

Yet, here you are.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Nico presses another tender kiss to your cheek before pulling away like he’s going to get up.

“Hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?” You tease him, grabbing onto his forearm in an effort to keep him in bed.

“To make breakfast?” Nico replies, more as a question than a statement. His brows knit together in confusion and the cutest look crosses over his facial features.

“Right now? We can’t stay and cuddle for five more minutes?” Nico can’t help but chuckle at the adorable pout you’re putting on display, but doesn’t give into your antics. Instead, he leans down to give you one last kiss before heading towards the bedroom door.

“Yes, right now. By the time you’re done with your morning routine, everything will be ready. I promise. We have all day to be cozy and do absolutely nothing.” He reassures you, that cheeky smile of his blossoming across his lips and bringing out his dimples again.

“Not fair, Neeks!” You call after him, that giddy feeling of happiness rushing through you when you hear his laughter floating down the hallway. After soaking in the warmth for a few more seconds, you reluctantly drag yourself out of bed to shower and get your morning routine done.

And true to his word, when you enter the kitchen dressed in sweats and one of Nico’s shirts ready for a lazy day in with your boyfriend, you find the counter covered in a full breakfast spread. A mug of coffee made just the way you like it, pancakes for two, maple syrup, hash browns and eggs are all plated and ready to be enjoyed.

“Nico,” You breathe out, shock and awe evident in your voice. Nico is always doing something sweet for you, no matter how big or small, but you weren’t expecting this at all. “What is this for?”

“Just because.” Nico shrugs, a bashful look on his face. His cheeks are pink with blush and those gorgeous brown eyes are twinkling with excitement. “We don’t get many mornings together like this. I wanted to spoil you. Made all your favorites.” He admits before stealing a kiss from you and passing you a full plate he somehow put together without you noticing.

“I love you.” There’s nothing else you can say. After all the time together, these little gestures still warm your heart and are the kindest reminders of Nico’s love for you.

“I love you too, schatzi. Now come on, let’s eat. We’ve got a whole lot of nothing to do today.” Nico teases, sitting down next to you at the table.

As you enjoy breakfast together, the two of you talk about everything and anything. Nico tells you some funny stories from practice yesterday and catches you up on all the drama about how Jack likes a girl, but won’t make a move. You fill him in on your latest project at work and how you scheduled a girls day with your best friend for later that week.

“We’re going to check out that new bookstore in Hoboken! The one right by the restaurant we really like on the waterfront. I’m looking for the next book in the series I’m reading so hopefully they have it.”

Noticing Nico has been quiet the whole time you’ve been talking, your rambling trails off. But before you can ask what’s wrong, your breath is stolen away. Because when you take in the sight of your boyfriend, you see the fondest look on his face. One that you recognize of pure love and adoration. It’s the look of someone who has found exactly where they should be. The look of someone who has found happiness in the simplicity of spending their life with another person.

“Please don’t ever stop looking at me like that.” You murmur, the words slipping past your lips before you even realize what you’re saying. Nico’s gentle smile just grows, his hand reaching for yours.

“Like what?” He teases, that familiar playfulness evident through his question.

“Like nothing else in the world matters but the love that we have. Like you’re the happiest right here with me.”

“I am the happiest with you. Always will be.” Nico whispers before pulling you in for a deep kiss. He says everything with that kiss, words aren’t necessary and wouldn’t do justice to how he feels about you. You melt into his gentle touch, smiling against his lips as everything else falls away for just a moment.

“And you’re right,” He starts when the kiss breaks, his big brown eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing else even compares to the way I love you.”

And right then, over pancakes and coffee that Nico made you, you know he’s going to be the man you marry. The one you spend the rest of your days with. Because this kind of love is once-in-a-lifetime and you don’t want to go through life without him by your side.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fics #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier blurbs #nico hischier fluff #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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andy-clutterbuck · 1 year

Photo

6x10 | The Next World

#hmmm #Rick Grimes #*#rg #S6 #it's me hi i'm the problem it's me #imagine rick controlling his cowboy daddy energy #sounds fake #why do pushed up or rolled up sleeves have so much power #*that 'we just don't know' bird*#his beautiful lil legs #excuse me sir please put your forearms away thank you #*Elena Fisher voice* Okay cowboy #form an orderly line to cosplay as his duty belt

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vulpisnocturna · 10 months

Note

hot things about Itachi's mannerisms that he does without realising?

Anon, you want me to die? Okay okay. Mostly SFW, a lot of simping going on. I’ve got a few, the last one is especially cute 🥰

- This man has no idea of the power his voice holds. His tone is always mellow and he chooses his words carefully, but that rich cadence and deep voice is just- I just know he got all the bitches (i am bitches) ready to kneel on the ground he walks upon

- Eye contact!!! He always makes everyone feel like they have his undivided attention. And his eyes are his biggest power, so he needs to keep them on everyone. But with the people he trusts, it’s just constant eye contact! This includes during sexy time, and it’s just-

- He sits like a mf king. This man was probably trying out intimidating poses before Sasuke got to the fight, and boy oh boy did he deliver! The easy stretch of his legs, the nonchalant hand resting on the cloak… look, he exudes power, and it’s hot and I don’t care

- His hands deserve a category of their own. Have you seen them??? The nail polish (slay), the long, slender fingers, the ring. I just know Itachi has an artist's hands. Pretty and elegant, with graceful, tapered fingers and veiny back of the hand (kill me I am a slut for hands)

- He likes cats (hot and very valid)

- His little smirk (I am deceased). He doesn’t show emotions often, but that little smug smirk is just-

- He loves to tease people. I don’t know what it is, but I just know deep down, he’s got sarcasm for days and he loves to use it

- I have this headcanon that when Itachi’s interested/curious, he tilts his head a little. I don’t know if I’m weird for classifying this as hot, but listen, it looks like a feline stalking a prey. It’s valid, and that’s that.

- He has manners. You know how he knocked before trying to kidnap Naruto? How he uses honorifics even with Kakashi, before he puts him in a coma? Manners.

- He can cook

- His hair. It’s not a mannerism, but the girls that get it, get it.

- He is observant: he sees it all and he notices when something’s not right

- He has brains for days. Not only is he blessed with impossibly good looks, he is also incredibly smart. I mean, what more could you want?

- Despite being a prodigy, smart and beautiful, Itachi is not going to rub it in people’s faces. He knows he’s powerful, but he never underestimates anyone

- Wearing a necklace. I don’t know what it is, but jewellery on him looks stunning

- In a modern AU, he definitely would open a car door for you

- He would walk with his hand resting on the small of your back (tell me that’s not the hottest thing ever)

- Definitely rolls up his sleeves when he wears a shirt. And ofc he’s blessed with amazing forearms

- Drives with his hand on your thigh, or holds your hand and changes gear without letting go of it

- Is a malewife. He cooks, he cleans, he does it all

- Is secretly possessive

- This man is such a giver. He’s constantly thinking of your pleasure during sex

- holds eye contact with you when you two are having sex

- Would be the type to tip your chin with his finger to kiss you

- chokes you against a wall 🥰🥰🥰

#fanfiction #writing #naruto #archive of our own #itachi #uchiha itachi #itachi uchiha #itachi headcanons #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha smut #itachi imagines #itachi smut

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cameronspecial · 29 days

Note

Dad!drew and readers kid wants a sibling, so drew and reader have THE conversation

Can We Really Do It?

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Suggestion of Sex at The End

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Anything Megan wants, she gets. There are boundaries, of course; however, if it is within his power and she is being good, Drew makes it his mission to buy it for her. Today, the little girl comes home from daycare wanting something that her parents can’t just pick up on a run to the store. “Mommy, I want a baby brother,” Megan announces nonchalantly, focusing her attention on eating her snack. The hand drying off a glass freezes, “Why do you ask, Baby?” Megan shrugs and stares at the carrot in her hand. “Stephanie has one and she gets to play with him at home all the time, so I want one too. Can we go to the store tomorrow to get one? I have been a good girl,” she suggests. Y/N sighs and sets the glass on the drying rack, “Unfortunately, Baby, Mommy and Daddy can’t just go to the store and get one. I will have to talk about it with Daddy and if we decide to get one, then it could be a while until we get one.” When her daughter doesn’t reply right away, she knows that Megan has already moved on from the conversation. “Okay, can we play outside after snack?” Megan innocently asks, kicking her legs while she eats the vegetable.

———

As Y/N returns to her bedroom from the adjoining bathroom, Drew starts taking off the decorative pillows his wife insists on keeping. She joins him at the head of the bed and fluffs their pillows. “So…” she begins, eyes remaining on her task. “Meg asked me about getting a baby brother.” He pauses his actions, getting into bed beside her. “And do we know why she is asking for one?” he pries. She snuggles into his side, “Because Stephanie has one and Meg wants someone to play with.” Drew nods along with her explanation. “I see. I mean… We always talked about wanting more kids. The question was always when,” he reminds her. She leans her head back to rest against the headboard, “We did, but is two years too early? I mean, we always said we would wait until she starts school to start trying.” “That is true. You and your sister have a two-year age gap and you guys turned out fine,” he says.

“We aren’t my parents though, so it is more so what we are ready for. I love Megan. But sometimes she can be a lot and if we have another kid, we would need to deal with both.”

“Yeah, we would. I’ll be honest. I think that we can do it. We are great parents and we have so much love to give. Maybe another kid would be good for us. However, having a baby affects you physically, so if you aren’t ready to go through that again, then I am perfectly happy to wait.”

Her heart squeezes at his consideration of her needs. Being pregnant was hard, yet the reward of getting to be a parent made it worth it so the pregnancy wasn’t her issue. “I’m fine with the pregnancy. It’s just… Can we really do it?” she thinks out loud, tracing the skin on his forearm. His lips find her temple, “I mean… Can we physically have sex to have a baby? I’m going to say yes considering we did it last night without the baby-making part.” She gives him a shove at his joke. “Be serious. Do you think we can do it?” she chuckles. His smile turns to a straight line, “I do. And in the instant that we think that we can’t, we will have each other to rely on.” She takes a second to process what he is saying and makes her decision. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#dad!drew #dad!drew starkey #drew #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you

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roanniom · 1 year

Note

also hi i reread the housewife!reader fic and uhhh eddie’s other ideas…like fucking you in only an apron?! hear me out: EDDIE is wearing the apron. *may be niche but i go feral for men in aprons!!!!!

The Apron

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, dirty talk, slight sub!Eddie but really switch energy from both Eddie and reader, hand job

Eddie does nice things for you all the time, so it isn't surprising to find him in the kitchen taking care of dinner after you called him from work telling him what a shit day you were having.

Hearing you close the front door, Eddie turns from the counter where he's chopping vegetables to give you the biggest grin.

"There you are, beautiful. Come over here and let me get you a glass of wine."

You drop your bag on the floor in awe. Again, not because you're shocked by Eddie doing something so nice but because of the very look of him right now. He's shirtless, wearing just a pair of boxers and tube socks. And your flower print apron.

When he doesn't hear you move further into the apartment, Eddie looks over his shoulder, worried.

"Babe? You okay?"

Not a second later, you're on him. You've got him pressed against the counter, your front pushing into his back. You have to stand up on tip toes to reach, but you plaster kisses to the back and side of his neck once you sweep his long hair out of the way.

"Mmm missed you," is all you manage to mutter against his skin. Eddie is frozen under your grasp, not knowing how to receive being manhandled in this way. It is quite the role reversal. In fact, this exact situation has happened many times, just flipped. With him engulfing you in his arms in the kitchen and grinding against you and whispering dirty words in your ear until you're nothing more than a puddle.

"Missed you, too, sweetheart," Eddie stutters in response. But your next action has him pushing away the knife he'd been holding so he can grip the edge of the countertop instead. You step so that both of your feet are on either side of his right one and push your hips against him, finding friction somewhere between the expanse of his thigh and the curve of his ass.

"Love seeing you make dinner for me," you say into his shoulder before nipping at it. Eddie intakes breath sharply on a chuckle.

"Yeah? You like me taking care of you?" he asks.

"Yeah. I do. It's really hot." Your hands go from his hips to rest over her hands where they grip the counter, interlacing your fingers with his tight ones. You have no idea where this dominance is coming from. Both you and Eddie have always been pretty switch-y, but without the context of the bedroom, this is almost out of character. But Eddie doesn't seem to mind. Not when he's shifting back against your hips and humming.

"If this alone is turning you on, wait till you find out what I'm making you."

"Oh yeah, pretty boy? What are you making me?" you ask, sucking a hickey directly into the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

"That pasta you like," he replies, but his voice is breathier than before. It makes you run your hands up his forearms and under the top of the apron. So you can run your fingernails across his bare chest. He hisses and buckles forward a tiny bit, giving you more to press yourself against.

"Sounds delicious," you whisper in his ear. "But maybe I'm hungry for something else."

Before Eddie can respond, you're pulling him to face you, pinning him back against the counter where you've trapped him since your arrival and grabbing his face to pull him down into a soul sucking kiss.

It's need and dirty, and the sounds that issue from both of you are nothing short of filthy.

This is what you needed. During your awful day at work where you're the assistant to a horrible boss, all you could think about was your lack of importance. Lack of control. You had absolutely no power and no autonomy, especially not in the face of an office full of men who treat you like a piece of meat.

It's not that you want to treat Eddie like a piece of meat, of course. You love him and you respect him. He is everything to you and he takes care of you like you've never been taken care of before. But there is a sort of rush flowing through your veins at the idea of manhandling him. Of getting him worked up and using him for you own (and his own) pleasure after a day of feeling so insignificant. Here, in the warmth of this kitchen, you’re nothing if not significant.

Your tongue plunders his mouth and your hands slide down to his waist, squeezing and gripping and groping. Yet again you step so that your feet are on either side of one of his. Eddie immediately bends at the knee, raising his thigh up to slot between yours and giving you a surface to press against. You're feeling needier by the second, but your urge to stay in control makes it so that you reserve yourself to only a few intentional rolls of your hips.

Eddie's hands are in your hair, on your neck, on your back, on your breasts. He's practically beside himself, preening underneath all of the unexpected attention you are lavishing on him.

When you finally pull back for a more considerable breath of air, Eddie tries to chase your lips, so you keep him held back by your grip on the hair at the nape of his neck. The sting of the pull makes him hiss and he grins at you, almost drunkenly.

"I'm not one to question a good thing, princess, believe me, but what's got you so worked up?" he asks. His voice is low and gravely and it makes you want to swallow his vocal cords. So you do the next best thing, licking up the column of his throat and sucking another bruise just to the left of his adam's apple, making him moan outright.

"You. You in this fucking apron," you grit out finally, all thoughts of gender norms and their uselessness swirling around in your head in flurry of lust and confusion. You pull away from him to take him in once more and end up running a hand down your face. "Oh...fuck."

"What?" Eddie asks before looking down and seeing exactly what you're reacting to - the prominent tenting of said apron directly over his lap. With nothing but the thin fabric of his boxers covering him, his erection is standing proudly, almost begging for your attention.

Eddie laughs at your wide eyed staring.

"Of course my dick is hard. What was it supposed to do with you comin' at me like that? Rubbing that sweet pussy all over me." His words are dismissive, as if he doesn't know the way they seep right to your very core.

"I don't know it's just..." you cock your head to the side and drink in the image of your man, wearing your apron in your shared kitchen, his hard on lifting the fabric with the strength of his desire for you. You run your hand from the top of the garment down to squeeze his length through the fabric. “It’s sexy.”

“Me cooking for you is hot and sexy? I’m never letting you in this kitchen again, baby.” Eddie tries to make his joke, but it comes out distracted as your hand moves beneath the fabric of the apron and under the waistband of his boxers. He’s hot and hard and aching, and you’ve barely done anything. There’s something in the way you’re looking at him that makes him whimper, a sound you definitely don’t miss. It makes you bring your hand back out, and you lift it to his face.

“Spit.”

He does as you order immediately, without even a thought. You return your now lubricated hand back beneath the apron and his boxers. The rub is slick as you start pumping him.

“Fuck,” he says quietly, staring down with hooded eyes. He’s watching the way your fist pumps under the apron, moving the fabric up and down with each tug of his cock.

“Like that, baby?” you all but coo. Eddie nods his head distractedly so you hum. “Yeah? Like it when I take care of you right back?”

The role reversal is heady and you love that he seems just as lost in it as you are. Not that you had really been worried he wouldn’t be into it - it’s Eddie, he’s into almost anything that includes his dick and your body - but you preen with pride that the vibe pushing your buttons today also works for him .

The only thing is he’s kinda quiet. And as someone who is used to a motor mouth Munson, you’re not satisfied with his gasping silence.

So you decide to egg him on.

“You know what I really need from you right now, Eddie?”

“W-what?”

You lean up on your tip toes, gripping Eddie by the back of his neck with your free hand to bring him down closer to you so you can breathe hotly in his ear.

“I really, really need you to cum.”

Eddie lets out a strangled moan as you couple your statement with a pointed swirl of your thumb on his sensitive, leaking slit. His hips rock forward into your hand and you laugh at his eagerness.

"I need you to cum all over my hand. Can you do that for me, Eddie?"

"Y-yeah, I can do that."

"For me, baby?"

"Anything," Eddie says, eyes all desperate and hazy but still finding yours. You shift the apron out of the way finally so you can both watch your hand pumping away at his swollen cock. You gasp dramatically at the sight.

"Oh look at that! It seems like you really do need to cum, huh?" You're teasing him, your voice all taunting. The sight of your smaller hand on his big, throbbing dick, mixed with the sound of your sweet condescension, makes Eddie groan. Teasing was usually his job, but having you do it made all the blood in his body shoot straight to the space between his thighs, even more than before. Which means there was absolutely none left to power his brain, leaving him to babble almost incoherently.

"Need it," he grunts.

"I know, baby. I can feel you throb in my hand. Gonna burst, huh?"

"Oh fuck..."

You lean up again and lick the shell of his ear, making him shiver.

"If you cum right now, how long do you think it'll take for you to get hard again?"

Eddie's brain glitches and he stutters, his fingers turning white against the edge of the countertop.

"I-I...I don't know..."

"You don't know? Hmm?" you ask, letting your free hand slide down from his neck, over his chest and abdomen, over your slick-wet hand where it tugs at him, and down to cup his balls. "Well why don't you hurry up and stain this apron so we can find out. Yeah?"

"Oh my fucking god," Eddie gasps in response, hips bucking into you at this point.

The two of you have done much more depraved shit than this, so he has no idea why he is melting like warm butter in the sun under your touch. But there's something about the confidence of your hand on him. The newness of the gravel and heat in your voice. The promise mixed with the command. It's unlocking a door he hadn't considered before in your dynamic, and out of nowhere he feels close to tears from a simple hand job.

His hazy eyes find yours again and you correctly read the plea in them. The need for you to follow through with the power you currently hold over him. The corner of your mouth quirks up into a grin and you lean forward to suck a dark and sudden mark into his throat before whispering huskily into his ear.

"Cum for me, big boy."

The moan Eddie lets out is otherworldly, filling the space of your small kitchen and echoing throughout your small shared home. His cock pulses in your grip and then he's cumming. Fast and hard. Hot spend shooting out over your fist and onto your apron and your work top. It's so much, all over and you let out a shuddering, pleased laugh.

"There we go. That's it, Eddie. That's it, baby," you encourage, milking his cock for all he's worth, helping him expel the last of his cum so that it dribbles down over your wrist. "Mmm, bet that felt so good, huh? Mmm look so pretty for me."

You're swept into Eddie's arms before you can praise him any further. He crushes your body to his and clings to you, his lips finding yours in a bruising kiss. It knocks the air out of you but fills your lungs nonetheless. The act calls attention to the throbbing between your own thighs, and within moments you find yourself rutting against his thigh almost unconsciously.

Eddie is the first to break the soul sucking kiss, though he does immediately move down to rip open the buttons of your work blouse to litter kisses over your neck, clavicle, and the swells of your breasts.

"Gonna take what you want from me, princess?" he hums gruffly, words made husky from the way his groans had abused his vocal cords. "You already took all my cum."

There it is. Not exactly dominance, but a glimmer of the cheeky confidence that usually colored every sexual encounter between the two of you. You feel your body heat up even further as a rush of adrenaline makes your hips move faster, pushing your clothed pussy over his thigh at a faster rate.

"You've got more to give," you respond breathlessly. Your smirk makes his already dark eyes darken impossibly further. "You've always got more." There. You're not letting go of control that easily. Eddie's answering smirk makes you realize that maybe neither of you need to let go. Maybe the two of you can continue this back and forth, this give and take. This dance of pushing and pulling, breaking each other down and building each other back up until time itself bends around the two of you.

Eddie, to your disappointment, pulls away from you enough to pull the soiled apron off his body. The movement calls attention back to his cock, now tucked back inside his ruined boxers, allowing you to see that he's begun to harden again in a marvelous show of stamina.

"I'll give you anything, baby," Eddie grins. He turns the stove off before hoisting you into the air. Your legs wind around his torso and your hands find his hair so you can mark the remaining pale real estate of his neck and shoulders as he stumbles towards the bedroom.

"Anything."

~*~

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I hope you enjoyed!!! Please let me know and thanks for reading!

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things smut

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