#nothing but moths in that sexy little head of his | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

padfootagain · 3 months

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Confessions

Hi!! Here is a sweet little scene with Hozier! Hope you like it, tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem! Reader

Warning: just fluff!! Lots of feelings. Confessions of love. Only the sweet stuff! Mentions of sexy times, but no smut.

Summary: Andrew might be a brilliant lyricist, but he struggles when it comes to expressing his love for you. It's too overwhelming for him. Still, he will try to explain his feelings this time.

Word Count: 2240

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

His heart is still in a rush when the thought crosses his mind. He’s still high on adrenaline and pleasure, with an erratic heartbeat and lungs ready to burst into flames. Mind clearer than usual in its ecstasy, and muscles incredibly numb after tensing to an extreme. He’s still on cloud nine, in that little bubble that follows right after orgasm, where the world is gone and there is nothing in the universe but him, the softness of sheets and the cadence of your breathing. Your fingers reach for his across the mattress, clammy with your joined efforts towards heaven, an anchor for his brain to clear the fog of physical pleasure and focus fully on you again.

And so Andrew turns his head on the pillow to look at you, as you lay there with him, across the bed you share every night. His bed, officially, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore. Ever since he’s been back from touring, you’ve only been to your place to grab some of your stuff and bring them to his place. It’s been over a month, and it feels like you live here now. In his head, you do. He’s realized that this house feels like home because you are here. He’s home because you’re lying in this bed with him instead of seeing your pixelated face on a screen. And he ponders for a moment when that shift actually happened, when home became a person rather than a place. It’s been a while, he reckons. Longer than he’s willing to admit.

Although, he could almost let himself be vulnerable enough tonight to actually accept it all. Especially now, when the sweat across his torso is starting to make him shiver, and you notice, and you tuck him in under the sheets, leaning closer as you do. You turn to your side to face him, and you truly are a sight to behold. And Andrew thinks about your hand still in his and how he wishes he could hold it forever.

Yeah, he could almost admit that this feeling has been here for a long, long time. That he loves you. That he loves you more than he has ever loved anyone in his life. That he can picture himself growing old with you. That this sight, you laying by his side with beads of perspiration still glistening on your brow, dishevelled and lovely after enjoying pleasure he gave you… yeah, that sight, he could picture himself staring at it every night for the next fifty years or so.

And he has thought about how your children would look like. How it would feel to see your hair become grey with old age. To run his calloused fingertips through the lines on your face. To hold you when you’ve become fragile with the passing of time. To hold your hand when it all ends.

Andrew chuckles at the thought. What a desperate romantic. What a fool. He doesn’t even know if that’s you want. Perhaps he’s just… momentary. A beautiful flicker in the dark, and then you’ll move to another, brighter star. You’re permanent, though. On him, on his heart, on his very soul, you’ll always remain there, altering his atoms, changing his very being…

“You’re alright?”

He nods, adds a hum for good measure, before turning as well in the bed, cheek now smudged against the pillow. He pesters at his hair when his movements pull on a strand, making you giggle. And then he’s facing you, getting lost in your eyes all over again. And it’s almost painful, the way he loves you. It’s like a burn searing through his soul. Something he craves for nonetheless, a moth heading towards a flame even though it knows it will hurt when it reaches for the heat.

And you shine so brightly tonight…

“You’re sure? You seem… a little out of it.”

He raises a playful eyebrow at that. Your voice sounds a little hoarse, one more proof that you’re ending the evening as satisfied as he does.

“You were not saying that five minutes ago…”

You roll your eyes at his teasing.

“No, you were very much focused five minutes ago. I’m talking about right now. You’re… staring at me funny.”

“Am I?”

You nod and hum, you’ve been doing that more since you’ve started dating. Perhaps he’s changed you a little too. Rearranged a part of your molecules the same way you had with him.

But then again, he never says it. Not out loud, at least. Oh, the I love you has been spoken time and time again, but… do you know how much he means it? What he actually means when he speaks these three words? That he would do anything for you? That he’s become yours with a devotion that was foreign to him before he met you? That you’ve rewritten every line of his verses to spell them all with your name, and that he adores it? You’re the only thing he can write about. The only thing he thinks about. The only thing he craves for.

God, he was never afraid to fall hard before you, despite the risks. Love was an act of adoration in his eyes, a touch of skin more sacred than any holy text ever written on paper. But you… you’re taking it all to another level. Do you know that?

He’s never been good at talking about his feelings, not in a clear, upfront way, at least. That’s why he needs music, because otherwise the words stay stuck in his throat. It’s so much easier to write down the way he feels, wrap some metaphors around his heart to reveal it, hide behind images and politics. Craft another voice to speak about his feelings. It’s easier than to look at you now, laying in bed with him, and open himself to you. He feels vulnerable, and he hates it. It is to an extent that terrifies him. Like an offering. Will you crush the heart he presents to you now, or cradle it against yours instead?

You deserve to know, though. He’s fucked up relationships before because he couldn’t talk clearly about his feelings. He can’t let that happen to you too. Especially when you have told him how you feel. You tell him all the time. You shower him in love and attention and care, just like right now: you’re rearranging the sheets on his shoulder to keep him warm, then tenderly caress his cheek, and the way you look at him… he can see it, that you love him. He’s not sure if you would be ready to picture a full life with him, the same he does with you., but he knows you love him.

He tries to show you, as he can’t really say it. It’s always been easier to show than tell for him. He offers cups of tea, he holds your hands, he worships you at night, he listens, he leaves tiny notes all around, he tries to make your life easier. Is it enough to tell you that you’re becoming his entire world? That losing you would mean losing himself too?

And perhaps it isn’t fully healthy, a love so supreme. Andrew doesn’t really care. Isn’t that why you say falling in love? Because it’s supposed to kill you when it ends?

“Andy?”

He’s zoned out again, he focuses on you once more.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask, voice quiet and soothing, the brush of your thumb in his beard lulling him to a peaceful state.

“Nothing. I’m just looking at you.”

You roll your eyes, shying away a little.

“Staring would be more appropriate, you freak,” you tease him, mischief held in your smile.

“Yeah, drooling even. But can you blame me?”

You laugh, bright and clear, the sun pale in comparison. A true ray of sunshine.

“Well… I do stare at your pretty face a lot, too. So, I guess it’s only fair,” you tease, and it’s his time to roll his eyes and blush.

“And I thought you were here only for my hair.”

“Definitely a solid argument in your favour,” you keep on teasing, both of you chuckling and moving closer without noticing.

When he reaches for your cheek though, he’s grown serious again. Andrew lets his palm rest on the side of your face, thumb stretching across your cheekbone while the rest of his fingers get lost in your hair. He feels you leaning into his touch, almost nuzzling in his hand. Like you crave for him as much as he craves for you.

“I love you, you know?”

His voice is a mere whisper when he lets out the confession. You nod, your expression serious as well now, though infinitely tender too.

“I know. I love you too.”

“No, I mean… I love you. Like… like a lot. Like… crazy.”

He lets out a quiet tkst in his frustration against himself, mumbles a God under his breath.

He can’t say it. It’s coming out all wrong. He thinks about words to say and others form on his tongue…

“I’m so bad at this, God’s sake…” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. I’m so bad at talking about these things.”

He heaves a sigh, almost hoping you’ll change the subject, say something, anything… but you remain quiet, expectant as you stare at him.

“Why do I reverse to a nervous teenager whenever I try to talk about my feelings, huh?” he tries to joke, turning to humour as he struggles. You grant him a chuckle, but don’t interrupt him.

He takes a few seconds before trying again.

“I just… I really love you. I know I’m not very good at… voicing that, like… but I do. I love you. And I… I love you enough to imagine everything with you in it. You see what I mean?”

You raise a surprised eyebrow.

“Why are you telling me that now?”

“Good orgasm brings wisdom?”

You finally laugh, and a little of the tension dissipates.

“Way to kill the romantic mood.”

“Forgive the dude in me.”

“Yeah, not sure I should. You were about to confess your undying love for me before that dirty joke.”

“It was pretty tame, come on. I’ve done worse.”

“Let’s go back to your confession of love.”

“Do we have to?”

You give him a peck on the lips as an encouragement, and he grunts, faking annoyance when he’s just scared, really.

“I just… I’m worried sometimes because… I’m not good at saying how I feel. And I… I don’t know, with you, it’s like… like this could be it, for me. And I don’t know if I’m always good at showing you that. But I’ve been thinking and… maybe you could move in with me.”

Your shy smile breaks into a grin.

“Yeah, I’d love that. I’m already stealing all your hot water and electricity anyway.”

“Exactly,” he laughs, but he’s still serious when he goes on. “I mean. I want this for the long run, you know what I mean? Like… I want you on the long run. I love you…”

His voice breaks and he curses at himself, looking away as he blinks tears out of his eyes.

“Speak of a lyricist,” he grumbles, making you chuckle while he escapes your touch, trying to gather his courage again by sitting up.

But you move to keep him close, wrapping your arms around him, and despite his tall frame, he seems almost small in your arms as he rests his forehead in the crook of your neck.

“I’m here for the long run too,” you reassure him. “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone before. I want this to last. I think… I think you’re the one for me, Andy.”

“I feel that way too,” he whispers, kind of stealing your words to express his own feelings but you don’t mind. “I’m just… I just know that I struggle to talk about that stuff. I don’t want you to think I don’t love you the way I truly feel. Cause it’s… it’s overwhelming, really. The way I feel for you. And it makes it difficult for me to express it.”

You hum, but shake your head, too.

“I know you love me. You show me every day that you love me.”

He relaxes in your touch then, a wave of relief that escapes in a long exhale. And he relishes in the warmth of your skin against his, in the vulnerability that you offer each other now, holding tight your naked bodies, as an attempt to let the other feel your heartbeats.

And perhaps he’s just being silly. Perhaps you know already. Perhaps you do feel the same.

“So… if I’m moving in, I have one condition.”

“Whatever you want, love,” he whispers into your skin.

“So, you’re ready to give up on the red blanket? The super warm one your mother gave us for Christmas?”

He laughs, holding you tighter, but unwilling to move away from your neck.

“Hey! She gave that blanket to me, not to you! What are you talking about?”

“She said it would keep us warm.”

“She never said that.”

“I will call her and ask for her to defend me and my claim on the blanket.”

“Or we could share it.”

You chuckle, and your tone is more tender as you answer.

“Yeah… yeah, let’s share it.”

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #writing

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netherfeildren · 10 months

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Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .5

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Possessive behavior; Jealousy; Size difference; Size kink; One sad horny old man; Angst!!!! that will continue just FYI no abusing poor little vic for enjoying the suffering of others :) it’s not my fault :)

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: peep the cameo!!!!!! :)

Word Count: 6.1K

Read on AO3

Vanish. Pass into nothingness: the Keats line that frightened her. Fade as the blue nights fade, go as the brightness goes. Go back into the blue. I myself placed her ashes in the wall. I myself saw the cathedral doors locked at six. I know what it is I am now experiencing. I know what the frailty is, I know what the fear is. The fear is not for what is lost. What is lost is already in the wall. What is lost is already behind the locked doors. The fear is for what is still to be lost. You may see nothing still to be lost. Yet there is no day in her life on which I do not see her.

Joan Didion, Blue Nights

Weeks pass after that night in his truck. He calls, many times, but you never answer. And it makes you feel like the worst sort of liar, but you can’t. You can’t hear the sound of his voice, it’ll ruin you, destroy your resolve, force you to your knees at his feet, which is, if you’re being honest, the only place you really want to be. It is, perhaps, the greatest struggle of your entire life, to hold on by the skin of your teeth to this idea you have of what it is he and his marriage should remain as, and what you and he should be and should not be.

It’s Gerri’s birthday, and Tommy and her sister had decided to throw her a party at her house. Big surgeon money makes for a big fancy house, and Gerri was over the moon, filled with happiness and laughter and that wonderful brand of Gerri specific infectious glee that forces even your miserable, morose self to pull your butt out of bed and get ready to go celebrate her. She knows you’re sad, missing him, even if she doesn’t know it’s him specifically. Although, you suspect she might have an idea of it.

She’d begged you to come during class at the start of the week, planting her stubborn butt on a stool to stare you down while the rest of your students finished up their work and then put away their materials. Please’s and threats of tears and bodily harm and promises of copious amounts of alcohol, and if you’re feeling up to it, I could even hook you up with someone – an accompanying waggle of her eyebrows. What about a surgeon? My sister knows the perfect, sexy doctor for you. You’d profusely, profusely refused that. You could not even consider another man right now, the idea was almost repulsive to you. As she begged and pleaded and whined, another one of your students had come up, eavesdropping on the pathetic display of supplication, “Come on, teach. Don’t be a sour puss, put her outta her misery, and go to the fucking party with her,” she’d laughed. One of your best students – she had the most gorgeous tattoo on the inside of her forearm of two overlapping ferns with an intricately detailed moth at the head. She’d told you once she’d sketched it herself. You’d rolled your eyes at them, sour puss, my ass. But you knew you had to get out of this hole you’d dug yourself into, and so, their teasing had gotten to you in the end – forced you to agree to the party out of sheer preservation for your reputation. Gerri’d taken to calling you the boring barnacle… yeah, and she’d never stop if you didn’t agree – would probably force all your other students into making fun of you for the rest of the semester, as well. Annoying little shit, it was very aggravating that you loved her so much.

The house is stunning – big surgeon money indeed. All shining glass, sleek wood and modern edges. A huge infinity pool in the backyard, flanked by an impressively sized guest house that Gerri said she and Tommy stayed in sometimes when they got too drunk to drive home.

There was, after all, a doctor from Andrea’s work waiting for you at their undesired and annoyingly meddlesome behest. He was nice, handsome, boring. Not tall enough, not broad enough, hair blonde and straight and kind of straw-like – no dark, silver streaked curls and deep, warm eyes. He kind of reminds you of a shiny scarecrow, if you’re being honest and not very kind. Not Joel enough. But he was nice, and seemingly interested and he’d gotten you a drink and stayed by your side all night, attentive and polite.

You feel miserable and made out of plastic. Your smile, fake, forced, terrible. Something has to be done about this. Perhaps, electrotherapy, a lobotomy, an exorcism. Anything to get him out of your head.

The shiny, blonde scarecrow – doctor – is telling you about his shiny, blonde family and their fancy skiing trips now, and oh, do you ski? No? I bet you’d love it – maybe I can take you one day? Never mind that you’d been born without a single athletic bone in your entire body, when, suddenly, you hear your name being barked, rough and angry, from behind you, and then a large, searing hot palm circling your bicep on one side while his other palm slides along the span of the small of your back to grip you at the bend of your waist. Fuck.

“Joel–”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He does not look at you as he says it, but his grip on your waist tightens for one second. He’s staring down the shiny scarecrow, murder in his eyes. Oh, that look is very scary.

“What are you doing here?” He turns the scary look on you at that, and nope, nope, it’s even scarier pointed in your direction.

“Tommy told me you were here.”

“Wh– what? Why would he tell you?” He gives you a pointed look, and you glance at the scarecrow, nervous. “You told Tommy?” you whisper back at Joel.

Poor doctor man looks at a loss, gaze swinging back and forth between the two of you. “I’m so sorry, can you give us a minute?” you say, embarrassed. He takes one look at Joel’s terrifying face and scampers away.

Moron, he thinks, sour gaze following the fucker as he tucks tail and runs. He turns back to you, answering your question, “Didn’t have to, baby. He figured it out on his own. Don’t think we’ve been what one could call discreet if you’re really paying attention.”

You shut your eyes tight, bring up a shaky hand up to rub at the delicate wing of your brow. He desperately wants to smooth out the tiny frown marring the space between your eyes.

“N– no– but,” you stutter.

He takes the drink you’re holding out of your hand, takes a sip of it – something sweet and way too strong for your light-weight little butt. “Mm, he get that for you?”

You scrunch your nose up at him, and he knows he’s meant to take it as a sign of your annoyance, but all he can think is that you’re too adorable for your own good. “Wh– I– you overbearing, ridiculous – give that back!” you frown up at him as he holds it out of your reach. He sets the glass on a table behind you.

“Hmm–” His big hands span the width of your waist, can’t help himself, you’re so small compared to him. It makes his cock so hard. “Let me talk to you, please. Let’s go somewhere quiet.” He doesn’t care that he’s not supposed to be here, that he shouldn’t be bothering you, he’s reached the end of his rope.

“No – go away. It’s– it’s Gerri’s birthday.” You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he pulls you further into his chest. “I’m supposed to be having fun. She said she’d be mad if I didn’t have fun.” There are already overwhelmed tears in your eyes, and if he wasn’t so fucking desperate to see you, to talk to you after all these weeks of you ignoring him, he’d run away. Far, far away, where he can never make you cry again.

“Just for a little bit, please,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, causing the little wisps of hair there to flutter.

You shiver. “Where– where’s Sarah?” You bring your small hand up to clutch at his beard, cup his jaw, and scratch your nails gently down the side of his cheek, and fuck, he’s ready to burst, just with that, even as your other hand feebly tries to push at his chest. He slides a hand low on your back to press your pelvis into his.

“Baby-sitter.” Hearing you ask after his daughter has that soft spot behind his ribs where you live now, burn and pinch painfully.

“And–”

He cuts you off, doesn’t want to hear you talking about her. “Gone for the weekend – work conference.” Not that he believed that.

You open your eyes again, the tears lining your lashes make them almost glow in your skull. He can’t help himself, he bends to press a soft kiss over your eye, feels the whispering, wet flutter of your long lashes against his mouth. You let out a broken mewl for him – full of all your matched wanting. “F– fine. We’ll– we’ll just talk.”

Just talk, just talk, just talk.

He can feel the pulse of his blood beat through the line of his erection against his thigh. He wraps his hand around yours and starts leading you through the house, spots Tommy at the back of the kitchen, leaning against the counter talking to someone. His brother takes in the two of you together, gives him a subtle nod, inclines his head towards the backyard – the guest house where Joel was headed. Tommy had known, since that day so long ago when Joel had tried to discreetly tag along to the college – hoping to get a glimpse of you, he’d known there was something. Nothing discreet about your half assed excuses, reeked’a desperation, he’d said. His brother wanted him to be happy, to have a good, fulfilling relationship. He’d been telling Joel to get a lawyer for months, had been the first to tell him to not get married. He’d help him now, give the two of you time to sort this out. He knows just how insane Joel had been these past few weeks, like a caged animal, pacing and hissing at not being able to get at you.

He steps out the back door and pulls you towards the guest house. He’d been here once, months ago, helping Gerri’s sister out with a repair she’d needed. The two of you would have privacy there to talk, for you to finally stop avoiding him. He needs to speak to you, touch you, smell you. He was going out of his goddamn mind thinking about you, dreaming about you. His cock, constantly at half mast and leaking, at all hours of the day, just at your memory. Desperate, that’s what he is, he’s desperate for you.

“Who was that guy?”

“Who?” Your voice is anxious, breath hitching. He knows you’re twisting yourself up in knots, and he turns to pull you into his arms now, in the privacy of the dark room, lit only by the light of the moon spilling through the large bay windows.

“The one you were talking to.” He draws his palm slowly up and down the line of your spine, feelings the little bumps and jitters of your trembling form. Skittish little rabbit. He rubs his mouth over the line of your hair, baby soft wisps tickling his nose and mouth. You smell so good, he wants to rub himself all over you like some sort of animal – mark his territory.

“Wh– I– You cannot be serious right now.” You push at him, turn to move away, but he catches you around the bend of your elbow, tugging you back forcefully into his chest. He presses his front along the line of your back, grips your hip to bring your ass into the hard line of his cock.

“Does this feel serious to you?” He’s hard as stone, throbbing beneath his jeans.

“Oh God, Joel–”

“Don’t want you talkin’ to other men, thinking about any other men. I know it sounds insane – can’t help it, I’m sorry.”

“I– I don’t think about anyone else but you,” you whimper.

He wraps his arms around your waist, brings one large hand up to cradle the weight of your breast and squeeze. He can feel the stiff little furl of your nipple through your dress. He feels a little unhinged right now, overwhelmed by the feel and scent of you. “I miss you,” he whispers. “Have you missed me?” He presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear that has a violent shiver jerking down your vertebrae, you grind your ass harder into him, give him the sweetest little moan. “All I do is think about you.”

“I did, I did– I miss you so much. I wanted to talk to you, I did,” you whimper, “But– but we shouldn’t, Joel,” you say at the same time as your hand comes up and around to twist into the curls at the back of his head. He turns your head with his hand wrapped around your jaw, his entire palm cups around your neck to your cheek, thumb pressing harshly into the corner of your mouth to angle you exactly how he wants you, and then he’s tasting behind your teeth, the wet lick of his tongue into yours sends a bolt of lust straight through him, almost bringing him to his knees. He moans, deep and rumbling into your panting mouth, and your answering keen has the dribble of his precum sliding down his thigh. He needs to be closer, he needs to be inside. Fuck, he’s in danger of coming just from this, just from the sweet taste of you, your little moans, all for him.

“Did you like that boy? Think he was nice, hmm?”

“Wha– No– no, Joel. I don’t even know him.” Brow scrunching into the most adorable little frown he’s ever seen. You blink your lashes at him, eyes glassy and slightly dazed.

He snakes his other hand down the front of your dress and under the lace of your panties, cupping the entirety of your mound in his palm. Fuck, you’re soaked and he’s touching you, finally, finally, he’s touching you here.

“Is all this wet for him or for me?” he says softly, dipping a single finger into your seam, a ghost of a touch over the bud of your clit. Fuck, you’re soft. Soft and swollen and soaking wet. He never wants to see you near another man again, it’s unreasonable, insane, he knows this. But the dilemma of having seen you, tasted you, felt you, but only by half measures, not really having you, well… it sets the stage for insanity. This he cannot help.

“For you, for you– please, Joel. Just–”

“She’s drooling for me, baby.”

“Don’t be mean,” you cry.

“Will you let me make you feel good, sweet girl? Please, I just want to make you feel good.” He presses wet kisses over your cheek, down your neck to lick into the hollow of your collarbone. Your hips hitch in little grinds trying to gain more purchase against his palm, and he circles your clit slowly. You’re fucking dripping, and he moves down to press over your entrance, gives you the slightest hint of everything else he’d like to give you.

“Oh, please–” He slides two of his fingers into the last knuckle then, to the hilt. You’re so wet, there’s no resistance at all. Your cunt swallows his fingers whole, and the both of you let out ragged moans in tandem. You’re fucking tight, and he needs to feel you around his cock, he has to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’ll die.

“We– we were supposed t– to talk,” you stutter, little cunt grinding down as hard as you can on his thrusting fingers. The wet squelch is deafening and obscene in the quiet of the guest house, and he can almost feel the steam of your lust and embarrassment at the sound rolling off of your skin like heat waves.

“Yeah, yeah, baby. We’ll talk in a second.” He licks a long wet swipe along the edge of your jaw, bites down harshly, and he can feel the tight clench of your cunt at the small hurt. He pulls his fingers from you, and you let out a protesting mewl, but then he’s spinning you in his arms and kissing you. Something savage and uncontrolled rising up inside of him. He half carries, half drags you down the hall to the bedroom he knows is at the back of the house, pulls the neckline of your dress down to get at your tits, sucking and nipping as much of the soft flesh he can get at. All the previous moments of restraint, of not touching, of just watching, have turned him into this uncontrolled beast. He can feel your little feel dangling off the ground, over his boots. He almost stumbles as you lose one of your sandals, stepping over your shoe, and gripping the back of your thigh to hoist you up higher, grinding you against his length.

He sets you down on the bed, pushing you back to lay across it as he tugs the soft cups of your bra down to get at your bare tits, sucking one peaked nipple into his mouth and pulling hard on the tip. So fucking beautiful. He swirls his tongue around your softness, kisses the underside of it, nips at the full, round side, switches to give the other one the same attention. You’re whining and crying out for him, almost sobbing. So sensitive, so sensitive – little fingers twisted in his hair to pull him closer, but he’s moving down, pulling away from your searching mouth and lifting the hem of your dress. He bends to bury his face in the soft apex of your thighs and breathes deep – satisfaction, hunger, rumbling through his chest. You smell so fucking good. He sticks his tongue out to lick at your slit over the lace of your soft, pink panties, sweet, little bow adorning the front of them.

“Hush, lemme kiss your pussy for a little bit,” he soothes, “Don’t cry,” and you’re spreading your legs immediately at that. Good girl.

He hooks his fingers under the soaking wet center plaque of your panties to pull it aside and drags the flat of his tongue right through your seam. Fuck, fuck. He shuts your legs to rip the fabric down your legs and then rips them open again to get at your cunt. Your back arches, curved tight like a bow string, and you spread your legs wider for him, tug on his hair to urge him closer. He settles between the space you’ve made for him – thinks that he just might like to live here for the rest of his life. He sucks your clit into his mouth and starts to press a single finger inside, giving you something to bear down on.

“God, Joel–” your gasps are wet, on the verge of overwhelmed tears, or already there, perhaps, “Feels so– so good.”

“Taste so fucking good–” He starts to fuck you with his finger, adding another, giving you more to stretch around. You’re so wet, leaking down to pool in his palm, and he focuses on your sensitive little nub, licking and sucking and kissing it, all while he watches the heave and tremble of your breasts, back arched so that you can rock into his ministrations.

“Oh, I’m– I’m gonna come.” Yes, already, “I’m gonna–” He can feel the ripple and throb of your inner muscles working around his thrusting fingers, he hooks them against the deep, spongy spot at the front of your walls and sucks on your clit. Everything goes tight and liquid inside of you. The rapid flutter of your muscles trying to suck his fingers deeper, as you gush into his mouth, has all the blood rushing from his head to his dick so quickly he feels slightly faint. He licks you through it, gentling the thrust of his fingers but not stopping. Your restless legs shift around him, too much, and then he’s shifting back up to you, a bite to your nipple, a kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw, and he’s pulling you down the bed so your ass is right at the edge and tugging at his zipper, pulling his boxers down to free his aching cock and heavy balls. Fist clenched tight around himself, he jacks it once, twice and then presses the angry, red head to your clit, slides the underside of it through your cleft to feel the heat and wetness. Shit, your skin is scorching hot, soaked, and he can see the slight clench of your hole, begging to be filled.

“Joel, please I– I want–”

“Fuck – will you let me– will you let me put it in? Just a little bit?” He’s thrusting against the slick red of you, palm pressed against the shaft to create friction on either side. On every pull back his head catches the smallest bit at your entrance, and fuck, fuck, it would be so easy, so good, “Just– just for a second, baby, please? Just the tip?”

“I – I don’t– I–” The head catches more fully, the wide tip of it giving you just the first slight stretch of it. “Oh, please–” Please, please, please.

He feeds you the first inch – eyes glued to the way your little hole stretches obscenely around his fat girth, “Shit,” he snarls. He fucks you just like that, with just the tip and you try and arch even more, impossible, you’re already pulled tight as an arc, trying to take him deeper, and then your knee is hitching against his hip and pressing him in closer. He slides all the way inside, to the very end of you, in one smooth, devastating go. He feels his tip bump against the mouth of your womb, and your shared moan is pained and ragged. Your fluttering lids springing all the way open, eyes wide, almost shocked. The look shared between the two of you – incredulous, as if neither of you knew – had ever occurred to you – that something in this world could ever feel this good.

He buries his face in your neck, shuts his eyes tight. Fuck, he’s gonna come, he’s gonna come. Your gasping moans, the lush press of your breasts to his chest, the fluttering of your cunt around him – nothing in all his life has ever felt like this. There’s a pain, deep in his chest, in a place he didn’t even know existed. This is like nothing else that has ever existed in this world. He’ll never be able to let you go after this, never, never.

He wraps his hand around your throat, tries to settle you. “Don’t– don’t move, don’t make a sound–”

“I can’t– I can’t– You’re so deep.” Your legs kick restlessly around him.

“Baby, shut up, please,” he begs, he cannot come yet, he cannot. This is the first time in over three years he’s been inside of a woman, the first time he’s been inside of you. He cannot ruin it with a happy trigger finger. You’re clawing at his back, gasping and crying for him to move, to fuck you, please, please, please, fuck me. He slides a hand under your butt and lifts you slightly off the bed to bring you closer to him, grinds his cock deep, deep, right at your cervix so that you’re crying for real now.

“Too much, too much,” you clutch tightly at his bicep, going back and forth between trying to push him away and pull him closer. He can feel the wet press of your tears sliding along his cheek, over his mouth, and he licks his lips to taste them, has his eyes rolling to the back of his head at their saltiness. He hitches you more firmly in his grasp and starts to fuck you. His thrusts, deep and devastating, punching all air, voice, thought out of you, heavy balls slapping wetly against your ass.

“You can take it, you can take it. You can take anything I give you. You’re my pretty, perfect girl,” he grits, pulls himself up so he can stare at the place where you’re taking him, puffy, red cunt stretched obscenely around his slick base.

“You feel so good– I can’t, I can’t– What are we going to do? What are we going to do? It feels so good.” You’re crying, incoherent, fucked out look in your eyes as you claw at his shirt, little nails scraping over his belly and chest. He grips you under one knee to pull your leg up, hooking your ankle over his shoulder to deepen the angle. You come again, instantly, just at the change, the deepening of the angle, the head of his cock battering savagely against that deep, soft spot inside you.

“Fuck, yeah. Let me feel that cunt get wet, little girl.” Your mewls are high pitched, supplicant, and you gush around him. He feels it soak his pelvis, drip down his balls.

No one’s ever been this deep, nothing’s ever felt like this, you say, over and over again.

He plants one knee on the bed and hunches over you, ankle still dangling limply over his shoulder and pounds into you. The feel of your cunt rippling around him, sucking him deeper is too much. He wishes he could last longer, feel you come around him again. What if you never let him do this again? What if you never want him again after this? What if it’s just a one time thing? He’ll never get over this, he’ll never be able to move on from this. He can’t hold back, he starts to fill you, hot thick spurts coating your insides, and you moan again at the searing heat of him, right at the mouth of your womb, grinds deep, deeper, as deep as he can, the contractions of your inner muscles pulling him in. He wishes he could crawl beneath your skin, live inside of you, make a home for himself behind the safe cage of your ribs, and he thinks that you’re right, nothing has ever felt like this, nothing will ever feel like this again.

He’s ruined now. You’ve ruined him

He collapses on top of you, wants to crush you with his heavy weight, meld your chests together so that you’ll have to be with him forever after this. He presses wet, breathless kisses to the vulnerable underside of your jaw, behind your ear where your scent is the most concentrated, breathes you in deeply. You wrap your arms and legs around him, and he can feel the clench of your inner muscles around his softening cock. He hasn’t done this in a long time, he wonders what his refractory period is now, if he’ll be able to go again soon, if you’ll let him.

“I wanted that so badly,” you whisper, nuzzle your nose into his hair.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“I’m scared.”

“You have nothing to be scared of. I would never hurt you,” he promises because it’s the truth. He’d never do anything to purposely hurt you.

“I’m scared of what I feel for you,” you say quietly, “I– I don’t–”

He slides his hand under you to press you closer. “I know, sweet girl. Me too.” He angles your head to give himself access to your mouth, starts his kiss out soft and gentle, slotting your full upper lip between both of his to pepper soft little pecks and sucks to it, then tilts his head to get a deeper angle and lick into you.

You’re completely relaxed beneath him. Soft and warm and wet, entirely pliant. So sweet. It’s one of the things he loves most about you, how sweet you are. Sweet and kind and earnest – tenderhearted. You’re right, in a way, this is something to be afraid of. The things he feels for you – the depth of it, it’s not something he was expecting, not prepared for, but he’s certain there isn’t a way of stopping it now. This is what it is, will go where it was always going to go, from the first moment he saw you, touched you, tasted you.

“What are we going to do?”

“I want to tell her.” It’s the only truth, the only road he wants to go down. He wants to be with you, he wants this out in the open. “You aren’t a secret to be kept or hidden. You deserve to be cherished out in the open.”

Your tears spill harder at that, “Joel–”

“Baby,” he lifts up slightly to look at you, “This is it.”

You turn to look away and he feels dread coil in his gut. If you pull away from him now he’ll lose his mind. He isn’t prepared for this, he isn’t the type of man who’s ever had to deal with this type of feeling. “I – I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I– I don’t want–”

“You don’t want what?” he brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face, runs the tip of his finger along the arch of your brow, down the slope of your nose. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” he says, because it’s the truth. In this moment, he thinks he’d do anything at all you’d ask of him. Open his very veins for you. You have him speared by the heart, eating out of the palm of your small hand.

“I don’t want to be the reason your marriage ends,” your brow crumples, “I told you. I– I can’t be. I couldn’t live with that.”

“My marriage never really began to start with. I told you that.” He moves to pull out, both of you groaning softly at the sensitive slide of his cock slipping out of you, the slick gush that follows. He sits back on his heels, grips both of your knees to keep you spread and enjoy the sight of the viscous drip of his spend out of your messy hole. He wants to bend to eat his own come out of you. You’ve turned him into some sort of beast, subjugated to the scent and sound and feel of your body. But instead he turns to sit at the edge of the bed, tucks himself back into his jeans. He leans forward, elbows resting against his spread knees, and drags his palm over his face, rubs the scruff of his beard. He feels you turn to curve around him, your hand snaking up the back of his shirt to press your palm against his hot skin, your knees curling into his lap around his waist. “It was never – it was never– I don’t even know. Never a real marriage, I suppose. Or never something either of us wanted for the right reasons. I – I felt like it was the right thing to do, at the time, for Sarah. I told you this. But– but it was never how it should’ve been. I worry now, sometimes, if we haven’t just done more damage to her, built a foundation that’s so rotten, so broken, that she’ll be able to feel it for the rest of her life.”

“Joel,” you whisper, dragging your fingers softly up and down his back.

“She was born into a broken home – how can I ever– how can I ever make that up to her?” He turns back to look at you then, “A home where her parents never loved each other – barely even tolerated each other. What is that gonna do to her? What will that teach her about love and relationships?” He grips you around the bend of your knee, anchors himself with the feel of your soft skin beneath his rough palm.

“I think that, from– from experience, that it will be enough for her to know that she has you, that you love her, that you’ll always be there for her. You’re a good father, Joel. A– a wonderful father. She’s so, so lucky to have you.” And the look in your eyes as you say this to him is so earnest, so sincere and kind that he knows, in that very instant, that he’s falling in love with you, that he is already in love with you. He folds over to press his face into your belly, hug you tight to himself. “Your love for her will teach her what love is supposed to be. Honest, forgiving, patient. She doesn’t need any other example than that. That’s enough for a little girl, trust me.” You drag your nails gently along his scalp.

He presses a kiss to your belly, another to your still bared breast. He rests his cheek on your chest to look up at you. “Thank you. Thank you for that.” What he really wants to say is, thank you for existing, thank you for finding me, thank you for being magic, thank you for letting me touch you. Please, let me keep even one small piece of you, I’ll take such good care of it for the rest of my life, I promise.

“But you– you can’t tell your wife about this, can’t– can’t leave her for me. That isn’t– that isn’t ever what I wanted, or– or set out to do. I told you why, I explained this to you.” He watches a bright flush flood your cheeks, brow folding into a frown as you stutter out the words. “I don’t want you to do that.”

“What’s left of this marriage is going to end either way. It’s only a matter of time.”

“But not for me. Not because of me, or for you to run straight to me. I can’t– I couldn’t live knowing I’d done that.”

“You haven’t done anything. This was done a long time ago, the foundation was damaged from the start.”

“N– no, still. I can’t.” You shift away from him, sit up to right your clothes. There is a part of you that hums the sounds of uncertainty, he can hear it in your voice, but it is so quiet in the face of everything else. The echo of your screeching guilt and fear so loud, it overwhelms everything else.

“So, then what? This was just a one time thing? You want nothing more from this? From me?” He spits, hurt. He knows he should be gentle, not get angry, but the thought of you taking yourself away from him now makes panic climb like fire up his chest and throat.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, face still turned away from him. “I– I can’t tell you that right now. But I do know that I don’t want you to tell your wife, or to leave her for me.”

“So you think I should stay with her? Even though we’re both miserable. Even though all I want is to be with you. That’s what you want me to do?”

You let out a hoarse, anguished little sound at that, but then: “That’s not for me to say.” Your voice sounds broken, jagged, lacerating. “That isn’t my business,” you say so quietly, almost like you’re afraid to utter the words out loud, know what a lie they are. But he hears it. Loud and clear, like a slap to the face.

“Not your business?”

“I should get back.” You stand to right your dress, he watches your shaking knees knock together, and he reaches out to catch you if you need him, but you steady yourself on your own. When you finally turn back to look at him, there are tears streaming down your face. In some sick, twisted way, the sight of them is a comfort. They tell him that this isn’t what you really want, that your words hurt you too. In a way, they help him understand you better, as well. You’re trying to do what you think is the right thing, as wrong as it is for all of you involved. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, wringing your hands together. He only nods. You go to clean yourself up in the restroom, shutting the door quietly behind you.

When you step back out into the bedroom, he’s already gone, but there’s a glass of water left waiting for you on the bedside table.

Chapter .6

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#someone's fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic

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drarrily-we-row-along · 1 year

Text

Arsonist's Lullaby

As you may have guessed, this one is inspired by "Arsonist's Lullaby" by Hosier. cw: arson (as you might have deduced, no one is hurt and they're burning their own property)

Draco was doing that thing with his hands again. The thing Harry had noticed first in 8th year and then hadn't stopped being able to notice in the past five years since.

It's what had drawn him to Draco in the first place, like a moth to flame (pun very much intended). There was something completely mesmerizing about watching him snap his fingers and then cradle the blue flames in his palm absentmindedly while he talked, or read a book, or performed any number of mindless tasks. It was sexy as fuck.

"You're staring again," Draco murmured, not raising his eyes from his book as the fire danced across his knuckles.

Harry hummed, "You're doing the fire again."

"You're as obsessed with fire as I am," he said, mouth curling at the corner.

"Mostly obsessed with you," Harry replied and Draco laughed and finally looked up for his book.

He stared at Harry for a moment, the fire winding its way through his fingers the way some people rolled coins along their knuckles. "You know," Draco said, voice a hint too casual and Harry internally perked up at what was sure to be a fantastic confession, "I thought it would end."

"What would?" Harry asked after a moment when it was clear that Draco wasn't going to go on without a bit of prompting.

His silver eyes latched onto Harry and his head tilted as he looked at him, like he was trying to parse something out. "The desire to light things on fire," he said and something hot flared in the pit of Harry's stomach.

"Tell me more," Harry said softly, voice low and seductive in a way that it normally wasn't outside of their bedroom.

Draco's pupils dilated sharply, "when I was a child," he said, the fire burning brighter in his hand for a moment, "I would sit for hours and stare at the flames in the manor's giant fire place. My parents couldn't understand it, they'd find me just sitting there, doing nothing but watching, like I was transfixed."

And frankly, Harry could understand that; he could watch Draco hold fire all day.

"When she caught me, Auntie Bella would say, 'don't ever tame your demons, Draco,' then she'd wink and tell me, 'but always keep them on a leash.'"

"What did that mean?"

Draco gave him a little smile, eyes flashing, "she could sense the bit of chaos, the desire for destruction, I think."

Harry hummed, "What did you want to destroy?"

"Oh, it changes," he replied easily. "When I was sixteen, the last time she said those words to me, I wanted to burn the entire world to the ground."

A shiver raced up Harry's spine, he remembered feeling the same way at sixteen. "And now?" he asked.

"I always thought it would go away," Draco said, "after I fell in love, after I had given the fire within me permission to consume someone the way I've consumed you."

Harry made a soft noise, low in his throat in agreement.

"The way I've let myself be consumed," he added. "But there's still this desire to burn down the past, to start fresh."

He nodded slowly, "that makes sense, actually."

"What if-" Draco started before snapping his jaw shut and clenching his fist around the fire to put it out.

"What if..." Harry prompted, moving to straddle Draco's hips, looking down at his lovely face.

Draco swallowed and rested his head against the back of the sofa, staring up at him. "What if we did start over? What if we moved to the states, or moved to some muggle city? What if-"

"Yes," Harry said, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Draco's lips, fingers skimming up his neck. "Godric, yes," he said, living in the world as the chosen one had only gotten harder since defeating Voldemort.

"What if I burned down the Manor first?" he whispered.

He felt his eyebrows hit his hair line, "What?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, but Harry could see the tension in his jaw, the fear of being too much. "Just," he sighed, "no one lives there. It's full of dark, cursed magic and even darker, more cursed memories." He blinked up at Harry, "What if I burned it first?"

He stared at him for a long moment, just searching his face, and finding only earnest desire there. "Alright," he said finally.

"Yeah?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded and leaned in to kiss him again, Draco's palms skimmed up his back and sides, touching him reverently.

"Pack for us?" he asked when he pulled back.

"Everything?"

Draco shrugged, "not furniture."

He closed his eyes and gathered his magic for a moment, letting it pool in his gut before holding out a hand and snapping. The contents of the flat organized themselves into boxes, shrinking down until everything fit into a tote that they could easily put into the back of the beat up old Subaru that Harry had purchased and refit with magic.

"Fucking hot," Draco said, pulling his face down and kissing him soundly.

Harry let himself get swept up in the moment, lost himself in the fire of Draco's kiss, let himself be consumed as Draco's fingers slipped under his shirt, nails raking up his back.

Far too soon in Harry's opinion, Draco was pulling back, flushed and panting. "Drive us as close as we can get to the Manor?" he asked, "then I'll get us through the wards?"

He nodded and stood, tugging Draco up behind him and out the door. The Subaru brought them faithfully through the night to the Manor and Harry parked just on the other side of the wards.

They climbed out of the car and Draco reached for Harry's hand, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him. Harry took it and they were being moved through time and space to a hill where they could see the whole of the Malfoy estate, the Manor centered in front of them.

There was fire flickering in and out of the hand that wasn't clasping Harry's and he watched the other man carefully. "Are you sure about this? You don't have to-"

"No, I know," Draco said. "And there's a part of me that doesn't want to. I loved this home when I was young."

"We could-"

"But it feels all wrong now," he said, shaking his head. "Can't you feel it?" he asked without looking at Harry, "the way that the darkness seeps from this place, it's killing everything around it," he added, pointing to the forest and the meadows, even the yard was brown and dead.

Draco shook his head, "For a little while, it felt like all I had was this fire burning within me, ready to scorch the earth, to wipe out that maniac and everything he stood for. I just feel like there's something more for me out there."

He slid his fingers through Draco's, holding the hand that wasn't currently holding fire. "There is," he promised, raising Draco's knuckles to his lips.

"I don't think that you can tame your demons," he said softly like he wasn't talking to Harry at all. "And I don't think you can keep them on a leash, either," he added. "I think the only thing to do is to destroy them entirely."

Without another word, he released Harry's hand and held up both of his, letting balls of flames build in his palms before hurling them down toward the Manor. As soon as those were sent on their way, he started on two more, then two more, and so on until the entire building was ablaze, flames leaping dozens of feet in the air.

He threw one last ball of fire, then collapsed. Harry dropped with him, reaching out for him and supporting him as they watched the representation of his old life, of everything evil, burn.

What could have been minutes or hours later, they heard the sound of distant sirens and the first few firefighters apparated in, wands blowing streams of Aguamentis at the raging fire.

"Time to go," Draco said, squeezing Harry's hand and apparating directly into the car.

"Where are we headed?" Harry asked, starting the car and punching the button that turned it invisible.

Draco hummed, turning his head and staring at Harry with a thoroughly blissed out, content expression on his face.

He leaned across the center console and kissed him, "You're so," he shook his head and kissed him again, "fucking amazing."

Humming, Draco kissed him back before redirecting his attention to the open sky, "the world's ours. Wherever you want to go," he shrugged, "we're free."

And it never really mattered where they went, there were always plenty of things to find joy in if they were together.

------------------------

Read more of my fics inspired by songs

#drarry #arsonists lullaby #what a vibe #hozier is my jam #a little 'be gay and do crimes' feeling #but also just burn down the past that you had no control over and start fresh #maybe a little darker that i usually write- just so you've got a warning #love #running away together #established relationships #ewe #maybe a little morally greyish?

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clarajohnson · 7 months

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the magicians s1e4

filed under episodes you couldn't make today and that you shouldn't have made then. not that i don't love it because I DO but whew

watercolors!

(hamster who was turned into a human boy voice) no, my life is my life, this is--

i do think we need to grapple with how dumb tutting looks out of context

that napkin full of technicolor pills would've done numbers on 2014 tumblr at least

the physical kids is as suggestive a name for that group as they deserve

the moths are real bad !!!!!

ALICE'S BROW RAISE. i'm gonna find a screenshot of it i can't let it go

that's an episode of lost in space-- star trek-- what?-- that's an episode of star trek-- fine, that's an episode of star trek

there is so much eyebrow acting in this episode actually

in my first watch i was so pro-julia the whole time because quentin hadn't become an all-time little meow meow for me yet god this was always a terrible thing for her. the fake engagement is a particularly cruel dig like... how can i torture q the most? tell him nothing that's brought him joy and purpose in the last few years was real, tell him he's being left behind, tell him people are moving forward without him, everyone else knows how to be normal but him

ohhhhhhh julia did you want to see the fireworks? did you? rookie gaslighting mistake miss wicker

laughing at you? what kind of a friend would do that? AND THEN THE SMIRK ohhhhh she and marina could have been so good together

one thing that's real? you're always a raging dick

someone in the discord said penny is leaning into it so hard and i have to agree like... they should not have done this but at least arjun gets to have fun

[whispers] hashtag agree

in 2015 singing shake it off was one of the strangest things a man on television could do but eight years later it just seems like me watching myself in my apartment any given friday night

i understand the logistics that inhibit the pairing but alice and eliot had so much potential like at LEAST platonically

okay all of the stuff above was awful of julia but actually the most awful thing was making q think he'd harm his father (and that that harm was linked to magic use! which will come back around when magic shuts off!)

penny helping by shouting at quentin as loud and aggressively as he can :-) you racist motherfucker !!!!!!

julia and marina having a sexy raspy voice-off

high-end designer cooperative magic... said while wearing her little leather bondage outfit... hitting on kady... affectionately, you melodramatic cunt

our little q :-) he knows where he would take him on a first fucking date

do we know what marina's discipline was/would've been? ik it's not like (barf) hogwarts houses or whatever but i'm curious where brakebills placed her

jesus christ i didn't remember he was gonna get a fucking lobotomy

there's a lot of eye horror in this show which is just the worst

ughhhh bad episode for julia

god eliot is so obvious right from the start it is insane... patting q's head giving him things... fuckin loverboy

poor you and your taste of honey worse than none at all :-( marina they could NEVER make me hate you

#unauthorized magicians rewatch #the magicians #text

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alastairstom · 15 days

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Kitty had thought that Yuri was drop-dead gorgeous from the moment she met her. She had felt her heart pound heavily that night at Min Ho's party, before she dreamed of all their tension and the release that kissing her red-lipsticked candy lips would provide. She thought it as they danced together at the talent show, butterfly wings fluttering in her stomach as they moved their fans like Luna moths rather than monarchs.

But none of that had prepared her for this.

Min Ho sat on the floor of her new dorm room, tossing pop rocks at her and rambling about his mom's new movie. "Oh, Min Ho," she said. "You do not want to start throwing candy at me."

"But... I do," he said. "I know you stole my buckwheat hand cream." He shrugged. "Just admit it. And you can make all this," he threw another pop rock at her, "stop."

"Mmm," Kitty hummed, "no. A little extra cleaning later isn't worth admitting to something that I definitely didn't do." Her voice was filled with false bravado; they both knew that she was in fact guilty.

"I'll dump them over your head if need be," Min Ho said.

"Sure you will. It's your way of saying, 'I'm glad you stayed, Kitty. I'm so happy you weren't expelled because-"

She cut herself off.

She had to.

Because the most beautiful girl ever had walked into the room.

Yuri wore a pink cardigan, eye-grabbing and soft. Her sweater paws covered her hands, showing nothing but the bright blue nails that matched her undershirt. She was a rainbow...

And Kitty felt her suck in a breath.

Because...

Her hair.

Her hair, that was so soft to touch, was... well, different.

Instead of long locks, she now had luscious layers. The bottom cut off at her shoulders, framing her strong chin and bringing out the hardness of her jawline while still accentuating the softness of her cheeks.

It suited her.

Oh, how it suited her.

And how Kitty's face was warming as Min Ho looked from Kitty to Yuri and back again. They stared at each other for a moment, and Kitty smiled brightly as Yuri walked over to her.

"Hey," she said. Her winged eyeliner was sharp, but the corners of her eyes were crinkled as she smiled that odd little half-smirk that Kitty had imagined so often over their school break. That smile that Kitty had anticipated seeing again every time she closed her eyes.

"Hey," she said back, and Yuri shoved her hands into her cardigan pockets. "You look..."

"Awkward?"

"No," Yuri replied. "I was going to say 'well.'"

"Oh... yeah." Kitty nodded, feeling like an idiot. "I am. Well, I mean."

Yuri raised an eyebrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh," Kitty said, scrambling for a reason. God, her cheeks burned. Her stomach fluttered. "I was just thinking... your hair."

"I know," Yuri rolled her eyes. "It's a mess."

"At least you know it," Min Ho chimed in, and Kitty and Yuri glared at him in unison.

"No," Kitty said. Then, in a quieter voice, "I was going to say that it looked..." Exquisite. Gorgeous. Luscious. Adorable. Sexy. "Good," she concluded lamely. "It looks good."

"Mmmm, thanks," Yuri said. "But not much of a compliment, as I look good in anything."

"Yeah," Kitty said. "You do."

"You're being weird," Yuri said. "Why are you being weird?"

"I'm not," Kitty protested.

"Yes. You are," Minho interjected. "Then again, when are you not?"

"Hey." Kitty held a hand up at Min Ho. "I prefer quirky."

"That feels more accurate," Yuri said. "But your quirks are cute, yeah?"

Cute. Cute. Cute. She thinks I'm cute.

It means nothing. You're friends. The next generation.

So Kitty forced herself to smile. "Thanks," she said.

"Now come on," Yuri said impatiently. "Let's go get some lunch. I bet you're dying for some Kimchee after weeks of nothing but bland American food."

"It's not bland."

Min Ho laughed. "It definitely is. I've had baked chicken."

Yuri nodded sadly. "It hurts to agree with Min Ho, but yeah. Here, Come with me." She grabbed Kitty's arm and started to lead her out the door, and Kitty's arm felt electric everywhere that they made contact.

It means nothing, Kitty reminded herself again.

And she walked out of the room arm-in-arm with her friend. The one that she was in love with.

She didn't even care if she came back to a bed full of pop rocks, because she was here.

She was home. With her friends. With the ever-present phantom hands of her mother stroking her hair and laughing in the breeze.

And that was enough.

#xo kitty #drabble #kitty song covey #yuri han #kitty x yuri #min ho xo kitty

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invisiblegarters · 8 months

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Only Friends Ranking - EP 2

Genuinely didn't think that I would be doing this this week, but well. Things have changed. A bit. And I have a ton of thoughts that might turn out to be very wrong, lol.

Favorite Characters (Most to Least Fave atm)

Sand - Look, he isn't moving. I know this, you know this. He'd have to do some extremely heinous shit or be epically boring for me to move him from my top spot, and I don't foresee either of those things happening. I adore him, your honor. He's setting himself up to get his heart broken and a part of him seems to know that and yet he's still going straight for it. He's the moth, Ray is the bug zapper, and he'll be very lucky if he gets out of this mildly singed and not burnt to a crisp.

But. Just a mild observation here. Forthright as this dude is - and he is very forthright, he says what he thinks and how he feels - anyone else noticed that he doesn't tend to get personal? We got Ray here talking about his mom, Top talking about the fire, even Nick and Boston opening up about their dreams and Nick about his curly headed past (I bet he was adorable). But two characters have notably said not a fucking thing. Sand is one of them. All we know about this dude from his own mouth is that he's poor and that he's an equal opportunity kind of lover (and I love that last thing for him, I really do). I just get the sense that there's some capital I Issues happening with him.

And I know we love his big doe eyes, but anyone else seeing something a little calculating in there or am I just reaching (I am probably reaching, but I desperately need him to be about more than his unrequited feelings for Ray going forward)?

Mew - this dude. This dude. Speaking of calculating - and speaking of people we know next to nothing about. Look I don't think he's a Machiavellian mastermind - yet. I still hold true to my opinion that he's a game player who has never had to deal with actual feelings getting involved and that once they do it's gonna be bad, both in the protect him sense and in the sense that he's going to be taking a wrecking ball to every single person in his vicinity (and hopefully doing it with glee. And I'm back to thinking he's keeping Ray on the back burner, lol. This ep made me think no but the preview made me think yes (oh don't worry I know Boston is planting jealousy seeds in Top's ears that I'm not even sure he really believes - he knows about Ray's crush but well, I'm not getting anything from Mew. But there's just a certain way Mew treats Ray that just...makes me think he likes the attention. NO judgement, honestly. Ray's feelings are his own problem).

I said already that he has different personas with everyone he talks to. For Chueam he's the flustered, almost overwhelmed naive virgin. For Boston he's this weird mix of guarded and vulnerable. For Ray he's the oblivious and appreciative BFF. And for Top he's this sassy, smart, sexy but still innocent and slightly wary almost boyfriend. All those things are very probably facets of his true self, but I'm fascinated with how he puts them on and takes them off for people.

Boston - there's just something going on here. I don't even know if he wants Top at this point, but he very definitely doesn't want Mew to have Top. I think he feels like he and Mew are in a competition - not just for Top's affection or dick or whatever, but in general. Mew represents the antithesis of everything Boston is - he's the guy who wants the commitment, who wants the trappings. Boston is not. But I think deep down Boston knows that Mew is the guy that's gonna get the intrigue. Mew is the gold standard. He's the good one that you bring home, that you settle down with. And I think that Boston feels more threatened by that than he does by Top, specifically, wanting him.

I also feel like Boston wants to prove that in the end, all anyoen cares about is getting their dick wet. I'm not seeing finer feelings here, I'm seeing resentment of the way Mew chooses to live his life, and that is SO much more interesting to me than him being in love.

If anyone is our Brian Kinney, it's Boston. And honestly, this ep made me think that Nick might actually be his Justin and that is weird af to me.

Ray - by far the biggest surprise. I thought I'd go the other way with him. Khaotung strikes again, I guess. I don't actually like him, tbh, and I am very frustrated by the woobification happening in fandom, but oh is this one interesting.

Don't think that I didn't clock that liquor next to his mom. My first thought was sue of side, but well, drinking yourself to death is a form of that, isn't it? Just a slower one. And now her son is following in her footsteps, like he inherited her issues with alcohol the same way he did her records. And I think he knows it, and that's tragic af.

He's exactly as needy as I knew he would be, too. And frankly, I'm interested in his substance abuse problem - clearly he goes in and out of it, if Mew's comment about his flask was any indication. And that small sips line? Yeeeah, that's bad. That's really bad. I knew they'd give Khaotung meat to chew on.

Top - I KNOW. I never thought he'd get above number six either. But I kind of feel for him? It's not even about the fire trauma. It's that I think that he's actually struggling against himself to be what Mew says he wants, and that fascinates me a little. He's as bad as Ray in his own way, and that's so interesting to me.

I think he's gonna cave and do the easy thing because the easy thing is familiar and because Boston's gonna drip enough poison in his ear about Mew and Ray (and he's seen enough of the way Ray and Mew are with each other) to make him doubt, plus Mew's testing him is gonna grate. But do I think that inherently makes him evil? Nah, not really. I can't abide a cheater personally so I won't be sad if Mew just wrecks him and they don't wind up getting back together or whatever, but I'm not gonna pretend I can't see why it's happening, either.

Nick - sorry but he was boring this ep. I want to see him create some havoc or be a little messier. Right now he's just kinda making me sad and I want him to be more than crushed dreams, lol.

Chueam - look Lookjun hot and Nonnie adorable but I need more out of her please. Is she really just gonna be the mom friend/cheerleader, because if so I hate that for her. Jojo let the lesbians fuck at the very least, please.

Relationships (most to least fave)

This is basically the same as last week, really. Except this week I see way more potential in BostonNick actually turning into something and way less in SandRay.

Specifically, I feel like there's potential for Nick to blindside Boston. Boston isn't harboring feelings for someone else, I don't think. He just thinks that feelings are useless, that fucking is what's important, and I think that's how Nick might actually slide in. Boston doesn't know the danger he could be in because he doesn't even think to look for it.

And as for SandRay, well...I know that Khaotung and First's chemistry is amazing, okay. I'm not blind. But when it comes to these characters...Ray sees Sand as a possession, something he can control, if not with money (which he tries first, remember), then with sex. He is very much just using Sand to fill a gap. Things are gonna get very rough when Sand goes back to reasserting his own personhood, I think. Because while I do think that Sand's gonna be an idiot, I do see a core of steel in him which makes me think he will only bend for Ray for so long, and that's when Ray's gonna turn mean.

Look, I know people like Ray. I've been people like Ray. Trust me when I say that man knows what he wants from Sand and his heart has nothing to do with it. Ray will let go of his thing for Mew only if he's forced to, he's gonna cling to it against all odds, and until he stops there's never gonna be room for anyone else. He won't let there be. Sand's gonna get his heart trampled and it's gonna hurt a lot.

I will say this: if Ray stops being so forward with Sand, that's how you'll know real feelings are creeping in. He can afford to beg him and cajole him and pester him because his feelings aren't engaged and it doesn't matter if he looks stupid or if Sand thinks he's pathetic or turns him down. He ever gets to the point where that stops happening, then I'll believe things are changing.

Besides that, that man doesn't need a lover, he needs a therapist (very probably both of them do). But if he can't or won't do that, my honest to god hope is that when he and Sand implode they actually manage to salvage a real friendship out of it. That's currently my best case scenario for those two.

Also I want Top and Sand to smash. Give it to me in the present or in flashbacks don't care how I want it now.

In Conclusion

I thought this week's ep was better than last. Didn't think that it would come for me as hard as it did but there you go. I had way too many thoughts about everything and everyone and I'm not even sure I'm halfway correct but I've haven't had the urge to study every expression and write so many thoughts down about a drama since My Beautiful Man. So make of that what you will.

I am so excited to see what people come up with this week. So many of you are so much better at this than me and it's so fun to see what everyone comes up with. :D

#only friends #only friends the series #rankings

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hotpocketpena · 1 year

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You don’t get to walk out on me again

Notes: Please be v patient w me. I have not written anything since Dionsaurs were alive so I’m very rusty!

OK so I’m obvi obsessed with Mr sexy Pena so I had to make my first about him. He is the loml and i have frequent dreams about this dreamy man that will eventually turn into posts so oopsie.

I hope ya’ll enjoy n lemme know what u tink ;)

ps. I am terrible with Spanish (ltrlly just used google translate pls no attack)

Overview - Reader x Javier were in a long term relationship, but things got messy and the relationship ended. Reader has now moved on but can’t completely move on because Javi wont let her go.

Use of Y/N

Word Count - 2.8k+

Warnings - Swearing

---------------------------------

You sit at your desk, using the useless files as a makeshift fan. The Colombian heat has not been kind to any of you in the office today. It also didn’t help that he had been staring you down for the majority of the day.

Javier couldn’t take his eyes off you. He was like a moth to a very, sweaty but beautiful flame. He watched with such awe as you fanned yourself with files that are useless to your investigation with Escobar.

Things didn’t end well between you both.

There were underlining problems with Javi’s commitment issues, you knew this before getting involved with him. You really tired to not be another notch in his beat. But my lord, that man is irresistible. It only took 4 days for him to have his way with you.

4 days of little flirtatious winks here and there. 4 days of wearing extremely tight pants just so you would look at his ass. Even though they made him the most uncomfortable he’s ever been, he didn't care. He wanted you, and he was willing to go to circulation-cutting lengths to have you.

Aside from the blood cutting off in his legs and a few remarks from his partner Steve, it was nothing. He’d done much worse for girls with much less beauty than you. But was it all worth it?

Why did he make a fool out of himself for someone that just threw him away like a piece of trash? He asks himself this question everyday since you left him standing alone in his apartment. He thought about running after you and demanding to know why you were doing this to him. Why after him opening up to you about his past, would you just run out when things got a little tough?

“Will you just go over and talk to her Pena?” Javi was snapped out of the thoughs running around in his head. His blonde haired partner decided to but in on his private life once again.

Javier wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and grunted. “Will you just shut the fuck up Murphy. I don’t need to have this conversation with you again.” He certainly didn’t want to even think about you, never mind talk to his loved up partner about how shitty his love life had been.

Steve sighed. “I hate seeing you two like this Pena. You two were so goo-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Javi stood up from his chair.

Steve had pissed him off too much over the last two weeks. Constantly pestering him to go over and speak to you. Just ask you the simple question of why?

But, Javier Pena was the most stubborn man in the whole of Colombia.

He was glad Steve pissed him off so much. He finally had an excuse to leave the office and not waste another look at you. He needed to bury himself deep in something. Drink or whores. Or her.

He shook that last thought away and went to the bathroom to splash some water over his face. It calmed him down, but he wish he stayed in there longer. His fists clenched and his eyes were seeing red.

He saw you, and your new boyfriend of three weeks, Marizio from intelligence, leaning over your desk and whispering something in your ear.

That used to be him. He was the one that would whisper all the dirty things he’d want to do to you while you were working. He was the one that would make you blush like that. Make you feel things you’ve never felt before in your life.

Javier couldn’t move. He was like stone, his eyes locked on the small boy leaning on your desk.

You laughed and held onto Marizio’s shoulder as you stood up. You were done with work for the weekend, hoping to leave the troubles of the DEA behind and enjoy a relaxing weekend with your new boyfriend.

The honeymoon stage was in full swing. You never wanted to come out of it with Maritzio. If only it could stay like this forever. It’s only been a few weeks since he first asked you out, but you’re glad he did.

You were a nervous wreck on your first date. You hadn’t been out with another man since him. But Maritzio wasn’t like him.

He was kind, sweet and caring.

He never treated you in a harsh way like someone else did. After your first date, he walked you back to your apartment complex and gave you a light kiss on the cheek goodnight.

You were used to the night ending in yours or his bed, screaming each others names until you lost your voices. But with Maritzio, he was a gentleman.

So when the time came around for his birthday, you thought he would decline the invitation from Steve to go to their favourite bar after work. And to your surprise, he said yes.

If Steve was going to be there, you knew he was going to be there. Any mention of alcohol he was always going to be there.

Maritzio knew about your past relationship struggles. He didn’t know exactly who with, but he knew it was someone within the DEA. He was very calm about it, not in the slightest concerned about anything happening while you were together.

A few days after your second date, you got very drunk and called Maritzio. You meant to dial someone else's number to help you with the pain of heartbreak, but he was the one that broke it. So when Maritzio came rushing over, you spilled your guts.

You told him how the last relationship you were in, you were completely in love with a person who wasn’t real. They were a mask. And behind the mask was a harsh monster. That monster came out the longer you two were together. You’d put up with the monster for so long, it got too much, so you left.

Maritzio held you for the rest of the night, and offered to sleep on the couch so you wouldn’t be alone. This was one of the best nights sleep you had since you left him.

You and Martizio decided to go to the bar straight after work, to start the celebrations early. A few of the other agents had the same idea. It was about two hours before anyone else arrived, and you were pretty hammered.

You and two other agents were engrossed in conversation when a large cheer erupted from the bar.

Murphy and he walked into the bar with cases of beers and balloons.

Maritzio headed over to thank them. Murphy pulled him in for a hug, but Pena gave him a clipped nod and made a dart for the bar.

You mingled some more and decided on another drink. You needed to have as much as possible if you were to be in a different environment other than work with HIM.

You ordered 2 shots of Tequila and a jack and coke. Once your drinks were ready, you took the two shots one after the other and headed to your seat.

“Tequila makes you sick y’know.” Pena muttered while drinking the last of his whiskey.

Sober you, would just ignore him. Sober you. would walk over to your caring boyfriend and spend time with him.

Sober you wouldn’t be stupid.

But sober you, is locked in a cage and drunk you has swallowed the key.

You spun dramatically on your heel, and look Javier in the eyes for the first time in what feels like forever.

“It doesn’t actually make me sick anymore. It makes me more fun.” You giggled, taking your seat back at the bar and ordering another two shots.

“Bebita, the only thing that makes you more fun is water.” He chuckled, ordering a bottle of water.

“Hey!” You pointed a finger at him as serious as you could. Your finger couldn’t exactly stay on Pena, but you put all your focus into it. “Don’t use Spanish on me. You k-know I don’t know t-those funky words.” Hiccups were the worst for you when you were drunk.

Javi’s eyes softened, just loving the sound of your voice. He somehow forgot what it sounded like. And now he remembers, it sounds like sweet honey.

“Matitzio i-is teaching me! So s-say that word to me again in t-three months and I’ll know it all!” You cheered, sliding one of the shots over to Javier to take with you.

Javier’s eyes hardened at the mention of his name. He didn’t want to hear another mans name come out of your lips, other than his.

He hated Tequila, but if this is the only way for you to keep talking to him, he will do this.

You both took the shot. Javier’s face creased with disgust at the liquid. You laughed at his expression. He had a small droplet of Tequila in the corner of his mouth. Out of habit, you leaned over and swiped your thumb over the bead.

You froze when you realised what you were doing, and so did he.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t even be near him.

Sober you had broken free from her cage, and she was ready to run. “I u-uh, need to go to the bathroom.” You stuttered, carefully jumping from the barstool and making a quick escape to the bathroom.

How could you be so stupid! You knew what talking to him would lead to! You are happy with Javier! You mean Maritzio!

Even your brain was thinking of him. This needed to stop.

You run quickly into the bathroom, the Tequila finally hitting you. It feels like hours but you make it to the bathroom, hurling up the contents of your stomach.

“Y/n? Are you in there?” You hear Javier banging on the door for the ladies bathroom.

“Go away” you mutter loud enough so he could hear you. “I don’t want to see you,”

A few seconds go by and nothing. You continue to be sick, and feel someone holding your hair back.

This, this is why you should not have Tequila. But you just couldn’t help yourself. It’s the only drink that makes you the drunkest, the quickest. You skip past all of the other stages, like the awkward dancing stage, the overly loud and wants to talk to everyone stage, and jump straight to the confident & sassy stage. But, the quicker you get to that stage, the big final stages edges closer than you want. The vomiting in the bathroom and feeling violently ill stage. Everybody wishes that stage did not exist.

“It’s okay baby, let it all out.” A soft voice sooths your nerves and a hand rubs small circles on your back, coxing you to get everything out. “Shhhh, I’m here. I did tell you that Tequila makes you throw up.” The voice chuckles at the end, making you very aware who is holding you.

You slowly sit up from the floor and walk out from the enclosed stall. Your head is spinning at a million miles an hour. Why did he follow you?

You don’t look at Javier. You can’t. There’s too much pain, too much history between you. You will never be able to recover from him. Never be able to fully move on.

“You need to stop this. You need to leave me alone.” You whisper, the liquid courage taking a step back.

“I was not going to leave you to choke on your own vomit Y/n. I’m a lot of things, but letting you suffer alone? Nah, that’s not something I’m ok with.” He huffs, pacing the bathroom area.

“Oh, that’s not something you’re ok with? Right, well I’m just slightly confused.”

“How’s that?” He asks, raising his brows.

“Well I mean, you’re very ok with causing me pain and suffer the last time I checked.” Liquid courage is back and ready to put up a fight.

You cross your arms and lean against the wall near the door. Keeping as much difference between you as possible. This fight has been brewing inside the both of you since the day you both parted ways.

The huffs and puffs in the office when you both got assigned to the same case. The clear protest from Pena when the ambassador gave you praise for the missions and he got little. The looks of lust and love when the other one of you wasn’t looking.

It needed to all end here. It was now or never.

“I think it’s the other way around Bebita.” Javier sighed, leaning one leg behind him and balancing himself on the wall in front of you. “You were the one that left me to suffer alone in my apartment.”

“I cannot believe you are bringing this up now!” You shout, loud enough to get some attention from the party goers. But you don’t care.

“When else was I supposed to bring it up huh? I’m sorry did I miss our regularly scheduled morning feelings meetings!” He holds his hands to his mouth. “Oh my god I can’t believe I missed those! I’ll have to get Steve to fill me in later!” The sarcasm was dripping from his mouth, clearly taking this whole conversation as a joke.

“Fuck you Pena.” That’s all you could say. He was always like this. Never took anything seriously, only cared about his job and beer.

You push yourself off the wall and reach for the door handle. Javier grabs your waist and spins you, pushing you back up against the wall again. “You do not get to walk out on me again.” Your foreheads almost touch. If you leaned in, your lips would be touching.

You breathe in and take in his scent. Beer and nicotine is the smell you’ve been craving the most. Maritzio smells like lavender. Which is not a bad thing at all. You actually like the smell of Lavender. But what you miss is the smell of Javier. You miss everything about him.

“I can’t do this Javi.” You squeak. “I’m with Marit-”

“Please don’t say his name. I only want you to say my name.”

His words shock you. “I don’t want to hurt him Javi. Please.”

He takes a small step forward, closing the gap between your chests. The tension is thick in the air, just gasping for some relief.

“But you want to hurt me baby? Do you want to put me through all that pain again?” he whispers, moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

“I never intended to hurt you Javi, but you hurt me by not being there. He is there for me. You weren’t.” You sigh.

He plants faint kisses on your neck which send tingles into places that haven’t tingled for a while. You close your eyes and rest your head against the wall, allowing him more access. He moves from your neck up to the shell of your ear.

“But I will be.” He whispers, the pain clear in his voice. “I will be there for you until you want me. And even if you don't want me baby, I will be waiting until you do. These last few months have been the worst of my life. I have made the biggest mistake of my life by choosing work over you my sweat girl. I promise, if you leave that boy and give me another chance, I will promise to love you until the end of time.”

A tear runs from your eyes and Javi is quick to wipe them away. “Please don’t cry baby. I don’t want to upset you, again.” He pouts, not knowing how else to fix the situation.

“Javi, that’s all I’ve ever wanted you to say. Just that you acknowledge that I’m here and that you have something else in your life other than work. I hated myself when I left you, but I’m glad I did. Because if Id’ve stayed, you would not be standing here telling me all of this.” You said, looking him in the eyes for the first time in what feels like years.

“Well, we wouldn’t be standing in a bathroom you just threw your guts up in because you drank too much tequila.” He rolls his eyes and tuts.

You lean forward and shove him back playfully, earning a cheeky grin from him.

“You’re right. If you didn’t leave me, I wouldn’t have realise how special you are Mi Amore. And I want to be yours again, if you’ll have me.” His big brown doe eyes look softly into yours.

Another tear slips from your eyes, but this time, they're tears of joy. “And I want to be your-” He swoops you up in his arms and plants peck and peck all over your face. You giggle until he puts you down.

“I promise to cherish you until the end of time my angel. I will always love you.”

#javierpena #javier pena x y/n #pedro pascal #narocs

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Closed Signal - Tom Hardy smut

The one where Tom fears he might be getting too old for you

Warnings: smut, implied age gap, implied size kink, inappropriate drunk friend, insecure!Tom, dirty talk, daddy kink, exhibitionism kink, mention of overstimulation, name-calling, jealousy, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: this idea came from a request and I took advantage of the plot bunny to make it as some sort of follow-up to this story. Can totally be read by itself though - as most of my stuff 🤔

The party was going in full swing by the time Tom arrived. He’d been working like crazy lately, doing pre-production work for his next movie, which was one he was quite excited about.

It was completely different from anything he’d ever done before, and while that in itself presented a risk, my boyfriend was precisely the type to thrive in that anxiety. He just put a lot of himself in the process, and it’d been getting more and more difficult to see him outside of breakfast or bed time, so I was really excited when he agreed to meet me here.

“There you are, baby.” I smiled widely as his familiar mob of hair - now slightly grown for the role - appeared in the distance, briefly distracted from the conversation I’d been entertaining with my friend Chris. “I missed you.”

I stood up on my tiptoes to kiss him when he was close enough, rubbing my cheek against his bearded one. He was also letting it grow for the role, and I didn’t tell him, but the spots of white hair were disturbingly arousing to me, as if it reminded me of the age gap in our relationship, the almost taboo nature of it.

“Hey man, how have you been?” Chris nodded towards Tom, slapping his bicep as he approached to say hello. My boyfriend pointed at the beer in our hands, confirming, “Are you drinking beer?” to which I sheepishly waved the empty bottle I was holding.

“I finished mine, I was about to go and get another.” But Tom, ever the gentleman, was already shaking his head.

“Stay here, I’ll grab us both new ones.” My eyes trailed after him as he left, taking in the expanse of his back, how it signaled how much larger than my body his was. It still brought a shiver down my spine, a year after we’d started dating.

It was silent for a while as I couldn’t remember what it was that I’d been chatting with Chris until he was the one who broke the silence. “I’ll never understand how the hell Tom managed to get with you.”

The sentence was so out of place it took me a while to figure out how the hell to respond to it, and in that silence, drunk and inappropriate Chris prospered.

“Is it a kinky thing?” I was once again taken by surprise, mouth hanging open as I stared at my friend without believing what was coming out of his. “Do you get off on being his little girl or something?”

My face felt warm as he finally shut his mouth, but I didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or pure, unadulterated anger. “Why the fuck do you think that it’s appropriate to talk to me like that, Chris?”

My tone and words shocked him, the widened eyes said as much. “Oh, sorry.” He gulped and shifted from one foot to another, and still he couldn’t help but insist, “I just… Isn’t he a bit too old for you?”

I narrowed my eyes at him with my blood pumping inside my veins, particularly because I could see Tom had frozen in his tracks right behind the man that had angered me, clearly having heard what was said and also clearly taken back by it.

“Chris, he’s not even five years older than you.” The way is eyebrows shot up wasn’t comforting to me in the slightest.

“Oh, shit! Really? The white beard threw me off completely.”

The night was pretty much over for the both of us after this. I knew Tom was stuck on Chris’s words and I also knew I wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it. I’d have to wait until he decided to speak his mind to me.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. As we prepared for bed that evening, he approached me with cautious steps as I braced myself for what was coming, but I was pleasantly surprised by the tone of jest he assumed to complain, “My bones ache.”

I stared at his childish pout for a long time, not quite believing this is how he was going to go on about this until finally laughter escaped my chest. “And still, you fuck me just right,” I teased him, making him scoff as he averted his gaze, but I knew I’d played this to his ego.

A small silence followed my response, a pause in which I watched him gather his thoughts before he met my eyes to question, “Don’t you think I’m too old for you?” Opening up a slow smile, I opened my arms to welcome him into my embrace as I retorted, “I obviously don’t.”

Still, he sighed, rubbing his full beard against my neck as he listened to my heartbeat, so I proceeded, “And I also think our age gap is sexy.” That got his attention. He licked his lips as he sat up slightly, hovering over my lying body as he took in the shirt of his I was wearing to bed - and nothing else.

“Oh, is that so?”

Biting my lip to stop my smirk from growing, I nodded before voicing, “Yes… daddy.”

The way his eyes darkened was undeniable and it fed this hunger inside of me that I wasn’t expecting to feel. Suddenly, I was up on my knees, pushing him back against the bed as I took my place over his lap.

“Would you like to fuck me in front of Chris, baby?” His hands on my naked hips tightened to the point of bruising. I relished in it. “Make him see how well you give it to me?”

The fact that he wasn’t wearing any underwear under his sweatpants definitely helped me when I slid them down just enough to grab a hold of his dick. “Make him watch as you fucked me senseless, make me cry for you to stop while you kept fucking me until I pass out?”

“He could never get me this wet.” He felt what I meant the second I started to slowly sit down on his dick, biting my lower lip to stop myself from screaming at the pleasurable stretch. “All you have to do is stare at me and I’m ready for your cock, daddy.”

He pulled me by the back of my neck to meet his lips, panting against mine in something that was less of a kiss and more of a different way to breathe me in. “You’re too fucking hot.” It sounded almost like a complaint. It made me laugh.

“C’mon, daddy,” I whined in my best bratty voice, the one that called out to Tom like a flame did to a moth. “Take it out on me. Use me.” This time he did kiss me - and it was wild and forceful, like the way he started thrusting up against me just before he threw me on the bed to take his place on top of my body.

“You’re my perfect little slut, huh?” He nuzzled the crook of my neck, breathing me in as I wiped away the taste of him from my lips. I was obsessed with it, just like I was obsessed with every part of him. “So you don’t think about him when I’m fucking you?”

The question was paired with a forceful thrust that ended with the head of his cock rubbing precisely against my sweet spot, making me mewl underneath him. “Answer me, darling.”

His hand covered my throat, easily catching my attention. I answered honestly. “I don’t think about him at all, daddy.” He seemed to like it, judging by the way he immediately started fucking me against the bed, forcing me to hold onto his shoulders as I screamed in pleasure.

“Good answer, sweetheart,” he chuckled, mouth exploring every inch of skin he could reach. “You take me so well, baby,” he complimented, knowing how it always got to me. “I bet Chris gets off thinking about doing this to you, fucking you like I’m doing right now. But he never will, huh?”

I was quick to shake my head, incapable of voicing a simple ‘no’ with how drunk on his cock I felt. “That’s my girl.” The thought of being his had been such a distant dream for so long that just those words were enough to set me off, leading me to an orgasm that milked his too.

As he emptied himself inside of me, he softly fell over my body, smashing me against the mattress. “Tommy…” I whined, trying to push him away, much to his amusement. “’Can’t breathe.”

He was still laughing when he rolled onto his back, pulling me with him so I’d lay my head on his chest. It was quiet and peaceful for a while, my breathing slowly getting deeper and deeper as I listened to his heartbeat right by my ear until…

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby.” His voice was quiet as he brushed my hair away from my face, trying to get a clear view of my expression before he continued, “I still have enough stamina to fuck you through the night.”

All I could do was snort, hiding my face against his skin before I teased him, “Good, because I desperately want your cock in my mouth.”

#my fics #tom hardy smut #tom hardy #smut #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy reader #tom hardy reader insert #tom hardy reader inserts #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy one-shot #tom hardy one-shots #tom hardy writing

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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

Note

Ah shit here we go again

Btw this is moth shigaraki

So imagine this you work at this place that’s like a zoo that has moths and other creatures ( u can tell I’m struggling) so ur coworkers were trying to get this baby moth inside it’s cage but it kept panicking and crying ( I think u know who is this baby moth) u went to see what’s up that’s how u saw the most beautiful moth u ever seen, you picked up the baby moth ( meanwhile ur coworkers were panicking) it just calmed down everyone was 👁👄👁 long story short u were now in charge of shigaraki, u took care of him feed him u did everything, until he was literally taller then u are ( moths grow up fast ok?) shigaraki was in love with u even when u had ur days off ( he absolutely hated when u had to leave home boy would throw tantrums) he would never let anyone touch him if anyone did they might of lost a couple of fingers, when u came back from ur break he would be attach to ur hip he would not let go not to mention he probably scratched the hell out of his neck so u had to deal with that, oh yeah he was overprotective of u won’t anyone touch u

Let’s just say u were super sick so u had to take a week off, u were devastated that ur not gonna be able to see shigaraki (u had to admit that u have fallen in love with him) so for now u were trying to get better, meanwhile shigaraki was losing his shit he thought u left him ( or dead💀 lmao) he couldn’t wait anymore so he escaped, it was easy finding where u lived since he memorized ur scent, u suddenly heard a noise come out of room ( u went to get some water or something idk sis) as u entered u found shigaraki, shigaraki ran to u and just hugged ( basically crashed u with his two sets of arms) he started to cry he wouldn’t let go, u got super worried and asked him what’s wrong, so he explained what happened then u suddenly felt super weak and almost fainted shigaraki was panicking asking if ur ok, u said that u had a fever thats all, shigaraki just put u back on the bed, shigaraki finally had the opportunity to repay u, he had read somewhere that sex can help ( it’s totally not an excuse for him to see u naked) he just wants to please u( his mommy 😏) his wings vibrated at the thought of pleasing u, let just say u had no problem with it. ( so when shigaraki is done reader flops shigaraki on the bed and fucks the shit out of him as a thank u gift lollll)

Kinks umm sub shigaraki whos eager to please and dom reader, this one hundred percent has a mommy kink umm I cant think of anything, this isn’t my best ideas so feel free to ignore this 😔😫

-🤡

Storms

Tomothura :) 🦋

I'm sleepy, and I want milk and cookies. Not to flex, but I only have to see my therapist every other week cause ig I'm just perfect.

Update I now see her once a week and have to take dbt a THIRD (?) time

I have a bad smell and taste in my mouth and nose from covid. It reminds me of meatballs but in the worst way :/

Warnings: masturbation, heat, vaginal sex, humping, loss of virginity (both parties), breeding, & mommy kink.

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I have rewritten this six times. No matter how much I write, whether it's 100 words or 1,000,000 words, I can't create a smooth transition between y/n's like caregiver (?) relationship with Shiggy to a romantic/sexual relationship with him. To put it simply, I give up 💀 . HOWEVER, I did cook up another scenario in my mind, so even though I have strayed from the original blueprint, I will still deliver a moth Shigaraki fic to all of you <3

To those of you brave people who aren't scared of storms:

1) I envy you.

2) I apologize because I need y/n to be scared of storms for my plot.

Thinking abt writing a poly relationship with y/n shigaraki and dabi. It’d just be so cute.

On another unrelated note: why did I get put on the gross end of scent kinks (yes, those exist)? Instead of being like, “mmm sexy cologne,” I'm like, “Dabi reeking after being on a long mission and cuddling, so I have to smell him and get his sweat on me, ” like Claire. Control yourself.

It was a beautiful night. The only light around you was the moon, the stars, and dozens of fireflies. It was warm and calm, no wind, no rain, not even a chill though the sun had set. You walked further through the forest. Your friends had gotten tired and retired to the campsite. You, however, had chosen to wander some more. You found clarity in the woods at night.

You stumbled upon a beautiful pond surrounded by luscious green trees. Lily pads floated in the water, and frogs croaked. The number of fireflies had increased, and little fairy circles littered the ground (you were careful not to step in them). There was a little cabin up a small hill. It had wooden walls and small windows which stopped you from seeing the inside.

You checked the time, 12:55 a.m. As you walked back, it started to rain. Great. A little rain never hurt anyone, right? But then it began to storm. The kind of storm that knocked loose widow makers, that made the ground shake, and could cause mudslides. You had to get inside and fast. You were closest to the cottage from earlier, and the trees got thicker by your campsite. You ran back as fast as you could and knocked on the door.

“Hello? Is anyone in there? It's storming, and my campsite is too far away, ” you called.

“It's open, ” a voice called.

You opened the door and shut it quickly, not wanting to be out in the storm for a second longer. Then, you took off your shoes.

“I’m making tea for us, ” the voice said.

“Oh, it's ok. You really don't have to-”

“I didn't ask you, ” the voice said again, “just accept my hospitality, ”

You sat down on the couch and scrolled through your phone. Even though you had sworn it had 50% left, it was now nearly dead.

“Do you have a phone charger I could borr-” the lights flickered off, “never mind, ”

Here you were, trapped in a stranger's house as it stormed with nothing but a dead phone and no power. The stranger walked into the room, and your first reaction was to scream.

“Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you, ” Shigaraki said, setting down your tea.

“You're- you have- what are- y-you have, ” you stuttered in shock.

“Yeah, I've got wings and shit. Calm down, ” Tomura said, taking a sip of his tea.

You sat in silence for a moment as you processed.

“I'm tomura shigaraki, ” he said, “if we're stuck here together while it storms, we might as well know each other's names, ”

“I'm y/n, ” you said.

“Pretty name, ” Shigaraki said.

“Thank you, ” you nodded, “so how long do you think the storm will last?”

“No idea, but here it can rain for up to five days, ” he said.

“Oh, ” you said.

“It’ll be fine. I've got food for both of us, ” Shigaraki said.

“No, that's not what I'm worried about. I'm just scared of-” thunder roared, and lightning struck. You nearly jumped out of your seat.

“You're scared of storms, ” he finished, “you can come sit next to me if it would make you feel better or whatever, ” he offered.

You nodded and sat next to him. Despite looking...strange, his presence was very comforting. More thunder and lighting caused you to jump. He wrapped one of his soft wings around you.

“You're fine, y/n. Don't worry, ok?” Tomura said.

Did he know why he was letting you sit so close to him? No. Did he know why he wanted to comfort you? Also no.

“You're wet, ” he said.

You nearly choked, “what?”

“I’ll give you some clothes while yours are in the dryer, ” he said, getting up.

“Can I come with you?” you said, “I don't want to be alone, ”

He sighed, “sure, come on, ”

You both headed up to his room, and he threw you some clothes. Shigaraki looked at you, waiting patiently.

“Well?” he said.

“I'm not gonna change in front of you, ” you said, cheeks glowing bright red.

“I don't know why you're making it a big deal, ” he muttered, turning away.

Truthfully he'd never seen anyone naked and had lived alone most of his life. When he thought about you naked or even just in your underwear, he felt strange.

“I'll be right back, ” he muttered, heading to the bathroom.

He had a strange urge to touch himself, so he indulged. After unzipping his pants, he cupped his hardening cock gently and hissed at the new sensation. It felt weird but good. So good. He wrapped a hand around it and started stroking it gently, nearly moaning out loud.

He turned on the sink to mask any accidental noises. He kept stroking for a while longer, stifling even more noises. Soon he felt an intense tingling sensation in his balls that seemed to grow stronger and spread throughout his cock. As he finally burst, his whole body relaxed, and thick, white sticky liquid shot out of his dick. It was foreign to him, but it felt wonderful.

Meanwhile, outside, you had heard everything. You sat on the bed awkwardly as Tomura came out of the bathroom. He took your wet clothes.

“The um dryer is just downstairs, ” he said, looking towards the floor, “if you want to come with, ”

“Sure, ” you nodded, following behind him.

With your clothes in the dryer, you both sat downstairs on the couch. It was silent until you decided to try and lighten the mood.

“So what um do you like to do for fun?” you asked.

“I like games a lot, ” he said, taking a carrot off a plate of vegetables he'd gotten the two of you.

“I like games too, ” you smiled.

The both of you talked about games for a while until you nearly passed out.

“Hey, head upstairs. I'll take the couch, ” Shigaraki said, noticing your eyelids fluttering shut.

“No, I don't want to take your bed, ” you yawned.

“Get upstairs y/n. I'm serious just sleep in my fucking bed, ” Shigaraki ordered.

“But-, ”

“No, no buts, ” he interrupted.

“The least I can do is let you sleep with me. Won't you crush your wings on the couch?” you said.

“Fine. If it makes you feel better, I guess, ” Shigaraki mumbled.

You both walked upstairs. Shigaraki found a toothbrush for you, and you got into bed with him. You slept back to back, but it was cold. No, frigid. He could tell by the way you were shivering. He turned towards you and held you with both pairs of arms. A wing draped over you, and he rested his chin on your head.

“Don’t make it weird, ” he grunted.

“Ok, ” you said, sleep clouding your mind.

By the following day, you had turned towards him, and you both were completely tangled in each other. It was still storming when you woke up. You pulled Shigaraki closer, savoring his warmth.

“Morning, sleepyhead, ” he said.

“Morning, ” you responded.

He stroked your hair gently, wings humming quietly. He flipped on the light, and to your surprise, it worked. The power was back on!

“I’ll make breakfast, ” you said, getting up.

He pulled you back down, “ten more minutes. You're warm, ”

Ten minutes turned into an hour as you dozed off again. You couldn't help it, he was warm, and his nimble fingers traced designs on your back. The bed was so soft, and so were his wings. After a while, he woke you up, poking your cheek.

“Can you still make breakfast?” he said, smiling down at you.

You looked so beautiful with messy hair and tired eyes. Shigaraki couldn't help himself as he traced a finger over your lips. He saw the blush on your cheeks and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You have nice lips, ” he whispered.

“Thank you, ” you said.

He sensed your breathing pick up along with your heartbeat.

“Your heart is beating really fast, y/n, ” Shigaraki said, bringing his face closer to yours, “are you alright?”

“Yeah. yeah, I'm fine, ” you said, “don't worry about me, ”

He nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“If you say so, ” he said, getting out of bed.

You already missed the warmth of his body; it was still freezing from all the rain. How could the weather change so quickly? You followed him downstairs and began to make breakfast. As you were cooking, you felt him put one of his zip-up hoodies over your shoulders.

“You look cold, ” he said, “take it, ”

“Thank you, ” you responded, pushing your arms into the sleeves immediately.

It smelled just like him. This was your routine with him for the next three days. On the morning of your fourth day, the rain had stopped. The thing is, neither of you said anything. You just went about your day together like normal. The truth is, you liked it here. You were so much happier with him in his little house than you had ever been anywhere else.

“The rain stopped over a month ago, ” he said one day, “why haven't you left?” that definitely didn't come off the way he wanted it to.

“Oh well, I can leave if you'd like-”

“No. Stay, ” he said, “I want you here,”

He got up and wrapped both pairs of arms around you.

“Stay, ” he whispered.

“I will, ” you said, pushing your face into the crook of his neck.

He held you like that for a while, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. The months flew by. Soon the leaves turned orange and red and fell to the ground. Next, the ground was bright white from the snow, and tulips began to bloom in the spring.

‘Shit,’ Shigaraki thought, ‘its spring’

He'd been feeling strange lately, and after googling his symptoms, he realized he was going into his first heat. He googled many things that night, some disgusted him, and some did quite the opposite.

“Hey y/n, you should probably head back and get your things. You've been here a while, so I'm just assuming you're staying, ” Shigaraki said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I'm alright, ” you smiled, tending to the little garden you'd started, “I've gone into town a few times. I have everything I need, ”

“No, really, I think it would be good, ” he said.

“Shiggy, if you want me to leave, it's ok, ” you said, standing up and stroking his cheek.

He loved when you did that. It always made his wings buzz happily.

“No!” he said, “I don't want you to leave, please stay, ”

You smiled, “I'm not going anywhere, ok? You don't have to be so anxious; I'm staying, ”

He nodded, “I just- um, ”

“Go on, ” you urged, combing your fingers through his hair.

“I um think I'm going into...heat, ” he whispered the last part, “and I don't want you to have to deal with that, ”

“I don't mind, ” you said, “if it's alright with you, I’d like to stay. I'll take care of you, ”

He smiled and wrapped both pairs of arms around you.

“You're amazing, ” he said.

You giggled, “so what even happens during your heat? Do you get sick or something?”

“It’s hard to explain, ” he muttered.

“How am I supposed to take care of you if I don't know what's wrong?” you said, pouting up at him.

He shoved his phone in your hand, “here, ”

You read the screen, eyes widening and cheeks getting hot.

You looked up at him, “so you um, ”

“Yeah, ” he muttered, “as I said, you don't have to stay. I’m serious.”

You took a deep breath, “I want to stay. I want to help you in any way I can, even if it means letting you take my virginity. Truthfully I’d be happy if you did, Tomura, ”

“You would?” he asked, “are you sure?”

You nodded, “I think I've liked you for a while now. Even if you don't feel the same way, I just want you to know that I'm okay with whatever you need to do to me, ” your breath hitched at the last part.

You'd never seen yourself as submissive. You never took shit from anyone. Shigaraki didn't see you as submissive either, even with all the things you’d said. When they mixed with your tone and personality, they sounded caring but not in a submissive sense.

You were dominant, but not in the way he'd always thought of it. You were like...

“Mommy, ” he whispered.

So soft and gentle. Calm and caring but independent and strong.

“Can I call you that? It just feels...right, ” he said.

You nodded, “um sure, ”

“Mommy, ” he sighed, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair. Shigaraki groaned quietly.

“About what you said earlier, I like you too, y/n, ” he said.

You smiled and pecked him on the lips. After you pulled away, he pressed his lips to yours again immediately. He grabbed your hair, pulling you closer as you yelped in surprise. He laughed softly, starting to slip his tongue into your mouth. Tomura tried to dominate the kiss to no avail. Instead, he fell victim to the way you were able to move your tongue around in his mouth, leaving almost nothing untouched.

You pulled away, admiring the dark blush on his cheeks. He's so pretty.

“I'm sleepy, mommy, ” he said before yawning.

He picked you up and carried you upstairs. You laughed and kissed him on the cheek. He put you down on the bed and practically laid on top of you. He wrapped his arms around you, letting his wings act as your blanket.

“Goodnight, ” you whispered.

“G’night, mommy, ” he mumbled.

You awoke to something rubbing your thigh.

“Mommy, ” he moaned, “mommy, please. Please, it hurts so bad, mommy, ”

As you became more conscious, you realized that he was humping your thigh. He’d already made a sticky mess in his pants and on your own. You kissed him gently. Letting your soft lips contrast between the rough humping of your leg.

“Want, ” he moaned, “need to mate, mommy. I need to please, ”

“It's alright, sweetie, ” you said, pulling him between your legs.

He began humping your crotch, panting and drooling.

“Mommy, ” he slurred, “I want in. I want in you, ”

His wings had been buzzing violently ever since you agreed. One set of hands cupping your face and the other holding your hips in place as he rubbed his cock on your clothed pussy. You wiggled out of your pants with his help, and he practically ripped off his own pants. He pulled off his boxers and ripped off your panties. He shoved himself into you, nearly screaming at the way your warm wet cunt sucked his cock in. The way you clenched because he was big, so fucking big.

“Mommy, ” he chanted, “mommy, mommy, mommy, ”

He lasted a surprisingly long time, wandering fingers finding your clit. He slammed into you, slapping skin and squelching filled his ears, but all of this was drowned out by his moans and whimpers. Finally, Tomura pushed you over the edge. You clenched and came all around his cock with a loud moan.

“Mommy, ” he sobbed, “breed mommy, I need you to take my cum mommy. I need you to let me breed you and make you all pretty with my kids, ”

“Yes, Tomu, go ahead, sweetie. Breed, mommy, ” you moaned.

He gasped and sobbed as an absurd amount of cum flooded your cunt. It began to ooze out of your cunt around his cock. He collapsed on top of you, panting as his cock softened inside of you. His heat was over. His need to breed you was met. He was exhausted, couldn't move to bathe, only pass out with you safe in his arms.

Over time you did swell up with his kids. He was so excited to start a family, to claim you with his offspring. If you had his kids, you were his, end of story. No one was allowed to look at you or touch you.

‘Mommy’s so pretty when she's bred,’ he thought to himself as he kissed your stomach.

#tomura fluff #tomura smut #tenko smut #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine #shigaraki tenko #tomura shiragaki #tomurashigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomothura #shigamothie #moth shigaraki #moth tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki smut #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader

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pascalslittlebrat · 3 years

Text

Late Night Temptations

Rating: E, 18+

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Word Count: 2414

Warnings: Sugar baby/Sugar Daddy mention, mentions of alcohol, smut, oral sex-male receiving, choking, unprotected PIV (don’t be silly wrap those willies), dom/sub tones if you squint, i think that’s everything? Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After a night out late with friends, you sneak into Pedro’s house for some water before going to your place at his, only to find him awake and wondering what you’ve been doing all night.

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Part 2 Part 3

A/N: Just a little collaboration between @mothandpidgeon and I, inspired by this picture from @pedrocentric and moth and I’s thots about sugar daddy Pedro, may you all enjoy xo

You got out of the Uber and went up the driveway. It was late and quiet. Instead of going around back to the guest house where you lived, you went to the front door. Water. Water would be amazing right now. Pedro wouldn’t mind if you helped yourself to a bottle from his fridge.

You let yourself into the house, first sliding out of your heels so you wouldn’t make noise. You were still a little tipsy and the house was dark. Your feet padded down the hall to the kitchen. You went into the fridge and cracked open a water bottle. You gulped it down, standing with the refrigerator door open, shoes in one hand, cool air prickling your skin.

A light came on and Pedro had appeared in the kitchen. You couldn’t tell if he’d been sleeping. He often woke up looking deliciously tousled which seemed incredibly unfair. He was wearing a pajama set unbuttoned almost half way down his tan chest and over that a handsome silk robe. His curls were a sexy mess of dark brown hair.

“It’s late,” he said.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you said, wiping your mouth. You’d gotten a little over enthusiastic with the water.

“I thought you said you were studying,” he said, his brow furrowed. Did you sound drunk? Were your cheeks red?

“I was,” you said. You closed the refrigerator and leaned back against it. The cold metal felt good against your shoulder blades.

“It’s two in the morning,” he said. He sounded more exasperated than anything else.

“We went for drinks after,” you said.

“We?”

He had come across the kitchen to you.

“Me and the girls from class,” you smiled. You liked it when he got jealous.

“Mhm,” he said. He was looking over your outfit hungrily. He leaned an open palm on the refrigerator beside you. He was so tall that you had to look up at him.

“A few guys bought us drinks.”

His eyes turned dark. You knew how to push his buttons.

“I bet they all wanted to go home with you,” he purred.

You shrugged.

“I don’t like it when you stay out so late,” he said. His voice was husky and seemed to go straight between your thighs. He brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. “You need your beauty sleep, princesa.”

“I’m not tired,” you said. You only wanted one thing now and it wasn’t sleep.

“Well, it’s past your bed time,” he grinned. “Let’s go.”

You pouted at him stepping away from the refrigerator, “I bet the guy that bought us drinks wouldn’t make me sleep.” You bit back a smirk when you saw Pedro’s nostrils flare, you were definitely pushing the right buttons. “He was cute, tall, dark, handsome, like a younger version of you.”

Pedro let out a growl and pushed your back back into the refrigerator, your eyes widened in surprised. You hadn’t expected him to get so hands on so quick, “Oh and what would he do to you princesa instead?”

“Take me to his room and fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before,” you breathed out, your body was burning under his touch.

Pedro’s hand went around your neck and you let out a soft gasp as he tilts your head back. His mouth went to your ear, his nose brushing against the sensitive spot between your ear and neck, “Oh princesa, you’re going to regret teasing me.”

Your thighs clenched and you wanted nothing more than for him to pull up your skirt and take you. He moved his hand away and smirked seeing your chest move up and down, the desire clear on your face. He had gotten control again and now you were in trouble because he wasn’t going to be quick. “Suck,” he commands, and he places two fingers in your mouth.

You moan, wrapping your lips around his fingers. You look at him with those sweet innocent eyes knowing it drives him insane when its his cock and swirl your tongue around them. Your eyes never leave his as you move them in and out of your mouth. You watch his warm brown eyes turn black in desire. “I don’t share princesa, I guess I’ll have to remind you that,” he growls as he grinds his hard cock against you.

You knew he slept commando and the thin material of the pants against your own barely covering skirt had you whimpering, you core was screaming for more friction. You pushed your hips back up against his erection and Pedro grabbed your hip roughly, holding you down. “Uh-uh, you have some sucking up to do,” he tsked in your ear before pulling his fingers out, he pushed your skirt up and let out a choked breath when he saw you weren’t wearing panties.

He looked up at you eyes narrowed, “Where the hell are your panties?”

You smile up at him innocently, shrugging, “I took them off when I left the club. The lace was bothering me.”

Pedro’s jaw tensed and you felt his fingers graze your wet mound before pulling his hand away, “You’re so wet, such a shame that I’m not going to touch you.” He undid the belt of his robe, “You’ve been very bad today, going to the bar in this little outfit and letting shitty little boys buy you drinks. I bet you planned this didn’t you? Take your panties off because you wanted me to fuck you?”

Your head falls back against the refrigerator whining at his teasing touch. You needed him the way you needed oxygen in that moment. Your intentions had only been to tease you into him fucking you as soon as you got here if he was awake, you didn’t think he was going to end up playing with you like this. “I might have danced with that one guy too,” you say deciding to push him further, “Might have not, just like I may or may have wanted you to fuck me. Or maybe it was him I wanted to? I can’t remember too well.” You looked at him in feign thought.

Pedro glared at you hooking his finger under your chin, “Get on your knees. Now.” You gulped as you looked at his eyes, his dominance was there and you knew you couldn’t resist that tone even if you wanted. You got on your knees, the coldness of the tile floor contrasting the heat of your body, you looked up at him biting your lip, as your hands went to the waistband of his pajama pants. He gently caressed your cheek and you leaned into his touch, he knew in that moment that you were wrapped around his finger. There would be no more teasing him, no more being difficult and pushing his buttons, that little act was all he needed to know you were submitting to him completely. “Suck princesa, you’re mine and if you want me to fuck you, you’re going to be a good sugar baby and earn it,” his baritone voice orders.

You push down his pajama pants, his hard cock springs out and you lick your lips as you see the precum leaking from the top. You take his hard length into your hand, your other hand going to his hip to brace yourself. You smile up at his and flick your tongue over the head, licking the precum clean off of it. Pedro puts a hand in your hair and you hum appreciatively, you loved the way he taste, the perfect combination of sweet and salt, “You love tasting me don’t you baby, take it princesa. You know you love my cock in that pretty little mouth.”

“Always, yours all yours,” you moan as you take his cock in your mouth, he was too big for you to take completely but it never stopped you from trying. You heard him let out a hiss as your warm mouth covers his cock, feeling it hit the back of your throat as you take as much of him as you can in. You look up at him intently, how you loved to see the way his eyes closed when your mouth was around him. The soft moans he would let out as you bob your head up and down. You pulled your head back to just the tip sucking on it the way you knew drove him insane.

Pedro throws his head back the hand in your hair tightening, “Fuck princesa just like that, show me how much you deserve this cock.” You smile around the head of his cock before taking him back into your mouth. Pedro pulls on your hair guiding the way you bobbed up and down his cock, pushing himself down your throat a little more each time. He stops as he feels the warm muscles of your throat move against it, you gag and he releases his hold as you pull away, spit dribbling down your chin, eyes blown in lust. “You look so beautiful on your knees like that princesa, such a good girl, spit coming down your chin, I bet you’re soaked too aren’t you?”

You nod trying to catch your breath, your core was sensitive and it was taking everything in you to not grind against the floor for friction That’s how lost in lust he had you, you’d do anything for a release but you knew he would only drag out your release if you did. Your hand wraps around his thick length sliding up and down it as your swirl your tongue around the head taking him slowly back in. You moan around his cock, the sound vibrating down his length making him want to pull you away and take you right then and there. He loved how much you loved pleasing him, never had he found someone that enjoyed sucking him off the way you did, the way it would rile you up further. You keep your hand wrapped around his cock as you bob your head, increasing your speed, moving your hand in sync with your mouth to cover what you couldn’t.

Pedro’s hand in your hair tightens again, cursing under his breath, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and you whimper as your hand on his hip tightens, the pool between your legs was getting harder to ignore. He pulls on your hair, pulling your mouth off of him, you look up at him pouting. “I need you, now,” Pedro grits out as he pulls you back up. His mouth smashes into yours and you moan wrapping your arms around his neck, meeting his fevered kiss with just as much desire. He grabbed your hips bucking up against you. His tongue slips against yours asking for entrance, you whimper letting his tongue flick against yours.

Your tongues battle and you suck against it, gaining a moan out of him. He pulls back starting to kiss down your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot between your neck and clavicle. “Tell me what you want princesa,” Pedro breathes against your neck.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whine out breathlessly.

Pedro looks at you smugly pushing you against the counter, “Beg me for it baby, tell me how bad you want it.”

Your hands grip the counter as Pedro pushes your skirt up and bends you over it. He grabs his cock giving it a few strokes as he lines it up at your entrance. You suck in a breath, letting it out slowly as you try to push against it. “Fuck Pedro please! I want you to fuck me, I need your cock, please fuck my pussy with your cock,” you plead looking over your shoulder up at him.

Pedro smirks as he runs his cock up and down your wet folds, your grip tightening against the counter, small whimpers leaving your lips, “Pedro…please.”

“Good girl,” he whispers into your ears as he eases his cock inside of you. You gasp out as his thick length fills you, “Look at you taking my cock so good, princesa, you love having me inside you don’t you?”

“Y-yes, you fill me so good,” you whimper out as he pulls out before pushing back into you. Your head falls back against his chest, you found it hard to think as he rocked against you. Pedro was like a drug you could never get enough of, the way he felt pressed deep inside you, the way he’d murmur your name out each time you clenched around him.

He wrapped his hand around your neck, his other hand going down to your clit rubbing it. You cry out his name, feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach, you were so close and he knew it. He picked up his pace, “I bet that guy couldn’t fuck you like this. He wouldn’t have you completely falling apart, look at you, you’re so tight around my cock. Cum for me princesa.”

“Pedro fuck!” you cry out, your knees bucking underneath you as your orgasms rocks through your body, his hand around you neck moves and wraps around your waist. His attack on your clit doesn’t stop, wave after wave hitting you. You

Pedro holds you tightly against him as you tighten around him, “Fuck princesa, I’m going to cum, let me fill you up baby.”

You reach behind you pulling his lips against yours, “Please, I want you to.” You kiss him deeply as his pace starts faltering before you feel his thrusts stop and his mouth moves from lips to your neck. He moans out your name, his voice deep and gruff as he spills inside of you, filling you up. He hides his face in your shoulder, both of you breathing heavy. Pedro slips out of you pulling down your skirt. He turns you around kissing you softly.

You smile against his mouth, “So worth teasing you. Definitely better than any tacky frat boy.”

Pedro chuckles leaning his forehead against yours, “Never forget who makes these knees shake. Next time I won’t be so forgiving.”

He nips your neck and you giggle. “Pedro stopppp,” you whine as he sucks a mark, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips.

“I’m simply marking you darling, so everyone knows you belong to me,” he says as he presses a kiss to the new mark on your shoulder, “Now let’s really get you to bed this time.”

@rav3n-pascal22 @purplepascal042 @sleep-tight1

#moth set it up so well and so i couldn't resist to try and go hard on the smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal au #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #collab fic #my writing #rpf #rpf warning #tw rpf

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 3 years

Text

NSFW Alphabet- Joe Toye

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ok, so here’s the 411- Joe gives it his all when y’all are fucking. He’s flipping you around into different positions, he’s gripping whatever part of your body he can get his hands so he can reach deeper faster harder better, Joe is fully prepared to do all the work.

That being said, the boy’s EXHAUSTED by the time he’s done with you. You’re lucky if he doesn’t collapse on you in a sweaty, sleepy mess. But after he’s had a second to regroup and rally- he’s totally down for some pillow talk.

WARNING: it’s going to be in that sexy husky voice of his, which means round two is imminent.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ok, so our Joe’s hot. Like, really hot. He is fully aware of how good he looks- sometimes to the point of arrogance. If he had to pick just one part of himself, it’d probably be his arms. He likes knowing that he can always fight his way out of a sticky situation, but what he really likes is how your hands feel when they clutch at his biceps while getting sexy. (He also really gets soft when you run your fingers up and down his arms/forearms while sitting around and talking with the guys shh shh shh)

On you? Your hands- this boy never thought of hands being sexy until he watched yours dance across a map while discussing plans of action. His eyes followed their motions like a moth follows a flame- and when they touched HIS HAND for the first time? Boner city. Population: this guy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

MESSY BOY. OH MY GOD.

He’s BIG into marking you, and if you gave him the ok (he always checks first) he’d gladly paint you in it (he gets very caveman when it comes to marking you as his ffs what a horndog).

But if you aren’t into that? Not a problem. Simply seeing his cum on your hands (which we’ve established he’s super into) is enough for him. Inside of you works too, FYI. He’s very accommodating.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He once secretly got off in class while watching you disassemble and reassemble your rifle. Your fingers moved so fast and confidently that he couldn’t help but wonder what ~other~ confident things they could do (his mind instantly pictured you fingering yourself and he’s only a little bit sorry about how depraved he is). He’d kneaded the heel of his hand against his cock under the table and to this day he has no idea how he wasn’t caught.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Experienced is a good way to describe Joe, bc in cruder company he’d be called a fuckboy. He’s had more partners than the average Joe (lol sorry) but not nearly as many as someone like Tab or Nix or Liebgott have had. He just lived a full-ass life and, due to him being a stud, he’s never been wanting for company.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything with him on top is his comfort zone. He likes feeling in control, and he really likes being able to see how good he’s making you feel.

Bonus points if he can grip your neck a lil bit.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Joe is goofy in the sense that he likes to tease you, maybe antagonize you a lil. He knows that you get off on it- that you like when he points out how good he’s making you feel, or lightly chastising you for how quickly you’re going to cum. He doesn’t mean it, and if you were ever to tell him to back off he’d be totally down.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dark, curly, trimmed but not ~groomed~, you know?

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Personally, He seeks to establish intimacy during the afterglow, curling around you once the sweat has cooled and your breathing has evened out. Face touches, greedy but sweet kisses? Joe Toye’s your guy.

HOWEVER!: If he thinks you could use some during the act, he’s game. If you ask for it? HE’S WHATEVER MORE THAN BEING GAME IS. Get over here, hot stuff.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it whenever he feels the urge. It’s not a huge deal for him.

He’d prefer sex with you obviously, but if you’re not feeling it or it’s not a good time then he’ll take care of himself. In a perfect world, you could both do some mutual masturbation. He absolutely thinks of you while he does it, tho.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Choking kink. Wow wow wow. Nothing extreme- he doesn’t feel comfortable cutting off your airflow or anything, but a hand around the throat certainly adds a nice primitiveness to the experience.

If you choke him, however: different story.

Joe finds that EXTREMELY hot. Oh my God. It plays into his weird obsession with your hands/touch. It reminds him that you’re just as into him as he is with you, and he is a big fan of you getting a lil rough with him now and again.

Pin him down by his throat as you ride him? He’s done for.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Any time, anywhere- as long as he can be sure that you won’t be interrupted. There are exceptions to this (see Risk).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Little touches from you can really get him going. Lacing your fingers with his as you both ride in a truck from location to location. Your eyes finding his as you talk business with someone else. The gentle scratch of your fingernails through the shorter hairs at the base of his skull. You also get a certain look in your eyes when you’re feeling frisky, and the moment he sees that, sexy with you is all that he can think about.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Doing anything to you that leaves more than a bruise. Hickeys? Awesome. Speckles of bruises on your hips from where his fingertips dug into your skin a bit too hard? Hot.

Deep shadows around your throat left behind from him holding you a little too hard? NO NO NOPE THAT’S NOT OKAY.

It reminds him too much of violence, of someone trying to escape the touch of another and being denied freedom. Once, a German soldier had tried to choke you out so you wouldn’t alert anyone of his presence and Joe. Fucking. Lost it. His brass knuckles were nearly fused to his skin by the time Joe was done with them.

Tl;dr- deep marks on his girl? He’ll kick someone's ass. He’ll kick my ass. He’ll kick his own ass

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a fan of both! When he’s going down on you, he’s all about results- what will get you off the quickest and hardest. Overstimulation King (but in a good way).

When you go down on him and make a point to draw the process out as long as you possibly can, he just about cries with need. He’ll beg you to give him more so he can finally cum, but secretly he’s hoping that you’ll keep edging him bc dear god you’re so beautiful and evil and wow your nails scratching down his stomach feels good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

FAST. Like I said before, he’s all for getting you off quick and hard. He likes the feeling of his muscles trembling with exhaustion as he pistons into you with ruthless speed, likes the way it makes your body shake and bounce and sheen with sweat. He really likes being able to just fall asleep with you afterwards, so his goal is to tire out the both of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Ok, so here’s the thing- before you, most of his sexual history could be considered quickies. He didn’t like the idea of lingering too long after doing the do, so a quick fuck in the closet of a bar was his bread and butter. Remember: the quicker the better.

But since you, he’s decided that he’s good with both quickies and...slowies(?). If he’s feeling frisky while you both are out or just about to go out or in any sort of time crunch, he lets you know by coming up to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso, gently pulling you back until you can feel his hardening cock against your backside.

If you rest one of your hands on his forearm and squeeze it- then you’re not feeling it rn and he backs off (or excuses himself to take care of it bc he’s practical like that). If you lean back into him or turn your head to the side so he can kiss your cheek- it’s go time. Meet him in the bathroom, bc someone’s about to get their world rocked.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

JOe is fine with public sex as long as he knows/can predict who or what could possibly figure out what the two of you are doing. And even then, it’s going to be sneaky. You sitting on his lap with his dick in your pussy? Nice. pretending to lean over and whisper something to you while sitting at a booth (but actually fingering you? Dope.

He’ll basically go as far as you let him, but his big thing is not letting the two of you get caught by someone who will hold it over your ehad. Do’t fuck with his girl.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Two and a half rounds- he always starts with getting you off with his hands, thigh, tongue (that’s the half round), then he cranks out the next two fast and unwaveringly. Ideally, the outcome for him is two orgasms for him and three for you. Bonus points if he can wring four out of you, but he’s not going to push it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Probably didn’t own any of his own, but if you have a vibrator or something he’ll definitely use it on you. Would probably consider letting you use it on him, but only once he’s used it on you a couple times.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not very much in terms of edging teasing, but verbally he can be very antagonistic.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud and proud, but tries to keep the sounds in for as long as he can. You can always tell when he’s close by how vocal he’ll become. Huge whiner whenever you suck his cock or give him a handjob, bc you are so perfect and wicked that it literally overwhelms him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has at least one copy of the Kama Sutra. Bill gave it to him as a joke gift but Joe absolutely uses it for inspiration.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average length but girthy. He’s pretty proud of it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, but something he can control. He knows it’s unrealistic to be able to fuck you whenever he wants (bc otherwise, you’d never leave his bed), so he’s able to channel that desire into anticipation for the next time he gets the chance to fuck you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

SO FAST, OH MY GOD. But he doesn’t sleep long- it’s more like a power nap and then he wakes up and helps you clean up/cleans you up himself and then gets cuddly. Then he sleeps again. What a nerd.

~ ~ ~

taglist: @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @now-im-a-belieber @tvserie-s-world @holdingforgeneralhugs @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #joe toye x reader #joe toye imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

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chil2de · 3 years

Note

Hii! It's me again, the "teasing mom's broyfriend" anon. I just- you about killed me with that sequel. Hot doesn't even begin to describe it, really 🥵🥵

I have more :))

------------------------

Megumi knows. He knows what a slut you are, knows you've been fucking his father behind his and your mom's back. He knows you only got with him to provoque his father. He knows all of that. And yet, he can't let go of you. He won't do his father this favour.

He avoids going to your mom's house with you as best he can, bc he just can't stand the two of you doing this to her, the poor woman doesn't deserve it. He never touches you when you come back from your mom's, bc he just knows you've been with him. There is, however, an exception. The only thing that can make him help you tease his dad is when they fight.

When it happens, Megumi goes visit your mom with you, and whenever she can't see it, he makes it a point to touch you a little more than would be appropriate in front of Toji. The mix of Megumi's hands all over you and Toji's warning glare could probably make you cum right then and there. Once, when your mom was out doing grocery shopping and Toji stayed behind with the two of you, Megs was all to eager to fuck you, make you scream his name, all for Toji's benefit.

Oh, you do so love it when they fight. You know you should hope for peace and harmony between father and son, but you have much more fun when they are at each other's throat.

You wonder what you would have to do to have both of them filling you up at the same time...

ugh okay sorry if this post is just a massive wall of text i had to cut down on spacing because i kept reaching tumblr’s limit on characters, and uh... incase you couldn’t tell, shit’s about to get serious if i wrote this much LOL this probably looks so clunkyyy :(( i apologise but i have like a line left or two? so i’ll compress everything by saying a massive thank you because this would not have been possible without your sexy ass intellect. i was seriouly fucking dying writing this, it might be the first or second piece i’m genuinely proud of and i thank you :) i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it

this piece makes sense as a standalone, but works a lot better if you read the previous piece! read my disclaimer here if you’re new <3

w.c: 2.8k / characters: 15k (incl spaces) and a special thank you to my beloved anonie. couldn’t have done it without you ❤️

day and night: two.

your bedroom door shuts with a quiet ring. you can only slump down against it, knees held into your chest. your thighs are still quivering like a poor little lamb.

as you move to type out a text for megumi to not come over, there’s a faint knock at the window. your heart burns, throat clogged and knees weak.

you don’t know if you can get up. hell, you don’t know if you should get up. there’s another few delicate rips against the glass and you manage to stumble over in fear of attracting toji’s attention.

“megumi?!” you mouth his name in alarm, dismay crawling onto your features.

your boyfriend gives you a dead once over, noting your matted hair, smeared mascara and weak posture.

of course he knows.

you can discern it clearly from the way he refuses to meet your gaze.

“can you just let me in?” he whispers, tone flat as his index motions over to the lock of the window.

you don’t know what to do.

after all, you’ve still got toji’s cum flowing inside you from earlier.

you fumble backwards, moving to allow his lanky figure to slip inside. megumi manages to hoist his leg up and over, squeezing inside with ease. he closes the window shut behind him, pulling the curtains.

“m-megumi? what are you doing he-“

he doesn’t have time to waste.

megumi knocks the wind out of your lungs as his cold hands seize the sides of your head, stealing your lips for a kiss. he tugs at your bottom lip, tongue drinking you in for a couple of moments like you’re the last meal he’ll ever eat.

“shit.” he hisses, pulling his face back and screwing his eyebrows in mutiny.

oh, but if you didn’t love the way he looked at you like you were pure filth.

“you taste like him. it’s disgusting.” he spits, wiping his delicate lips with the back of his hand.

he knew, but there was always a part of him that wished you wouldn’t submit yourself to the likes of toji. he just had to see it for himself.

“come on, megumi-chan~ thats no way to talk to your girlfriend, is it?

your mother doesn’t deserve this. megumi doesn’t deserve the heartache, either.

megumi can’t see anything but the spitting image of his father all over your body, licking and fondling all the same crevices that he has. but he can’t get enough of you. he can’t stop, can’t turn away from you. he knows that at the end of the day you're spoon-feeding him phrases he wants to hear.

but you’re so good to him.

your pussy fits him like a glove. your hand intertwines with his perfectly. your head is the perfect size to cuddle onto his chest.

there’s something about you that makes you more addicting than nicotine.

bony and slender fingertips ghost over your thighs. you can’t help the squeak that hiccups from you. megumi raises an eyebrow in scepticism before flipping the hem of your miniskirt up.

he scoffs, slicking his long middle finger against your hot cunt.

“don’t hold it in.” he reprimands you, flashing a grimace as you squabble with him.

“b-but toji-“

“but what? am i not good enough for you?”

you swallow thickly, chanting a small prayer before allowing toji’s cum to drip out of your pussy. you shiver, goosebumps licking your skin when you can feel the warmth of his seed ooze and coat your soft thighs. you can’t avoid the burn of megumi’s regard as he watches the cum slowly flow out of you.

he’ll make you want him.

megumi can’t fully comprehend why you keep running back to his father instead of him, why you choose toji over him. like father like son, it evokes a bubble of magma in the form of competition and jealousy.

he’ll make you beg for him. that’s for sure.

“get on the bed.” he whispers, tone cold and even. there’s no warmth to his voice, even with his usual monotonous tendencies you can tell you struck a nerve. it makes your stomach churn, butterflies swooping in and adorning your vital organs.

like a moth drawn to a flame, as though you have no mind of your own, you step backwards until the back of your knees kiss the metal frame of your bed. megumi towers over you, pushing you backwards as he crawls in between your thighs.

the crisp ring of his zipper sliding down clashes against the room. why should he undress himself properly for the likes of someone like you?

“there’s no point in prepping you. i think you know that.” megumi sighs, relieving his twitching cock from the confines of his painfully tight boxers.

you can feel the avarice swirl in your abdomen, cold fear stilling in your veins at the mere thought that you could get caught by toji at any second. it makes your fingertips tingle and stomach churn. when you wail a needy whimper, megumi only shakes his head before plastering his icy cool hand against your wet lips.

a part of megumi wants to let all hell break loose. if he allows you to moan as you please, it won’t be just toji hearing your cries of ecstasy. knowing your mother, perhaps she’d be a little glad to know that your boyfriend is meeting your needs sufficiently. whereas toji?

it puts him in a predicament. from a bystanders point of view, toji has no right to storm in here and to shriek at megumi for blowing your brains out.

why?

because he’s not your dad.

he’s not a paternal figure in your life. there’s no right for him to say what you can and cannot do. he won’t hold that kind of reign over you like your mother does. and megumi likes that. he relishes the idea of toji being forced to listen to you babble megumi’s name, to mewl and cry for him to hit it deeper whilst he can’t do anything but complain.

it’s not like you haven’t heard your mother with other men plenty of times. it’s only natural, right? hell, she’ll probably gossip with you about it.

a carnal desire glosses over megumi’s steel blue gaze. like a wolf waiting to pounce onto a hare. he can see the way your thighs squeeze, how you gulp before him with those doe eyes of yours. you’re practically purring underneath him. for once, megumi gathers the reasoning to understand why his father finds you so intriguing. there’s nothing better than having your own toy melt and oblige under every command.

your boyfriend’s hand finds its way to your chest, where he rests the palm flat underneath your breasts. he steadies himself, using you as leverage as he guides his dick through the cum stained mess of your cunt. your heart pounds in anticipation, drool coating the back of your tongue as your pussy throbs around him. he manages to fit his tip in, dragging the enlarged and sensitive muscle against your walls. your ankles flutter around megumi’s waist, lower body strength trembling as you attempt to pull him in further.

“m-megs- please..”

“what?” he screws his eyebrows, staring you down. you can’t find the words in you to plead for him.

“what the hell? why act all coy now?“

“that’s not how we do things around here, is it? so spit it out. i won’t get what you’re trying to say otherwise.”

megumi slips his dick out, grinding against your clit as his torso flushes against yours. he pulls you in for a quick kiss, enough to relinquish his appetite, but not enough to taste the filth that corrupts your sweet and innocent lips.

“those cute little whines of yours won’t help you, either.” his breath flickers against your skin, sticky tongue licking trails as he works to mark up your neck. you can feel the tears prick your eyes already. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, how it throbs against your cunt and the droplets of perspiration trickling along your skin. you can feel megumi’s pulse heavy against your clit, the way his dick twitches as he smears the tip through the folds of your slick. it’s slowly driving him insane. but that’s okay. even through the static that bounces around in his skull- he knows that you hate it more.

after all, your boyfriend knows best.

your fingernails soar around to megumi’s back. you want to scratch him, but you can’t access his toned skin through the layers of his jacket. instead, you’re left fumbling and scrunching the fabric like a feline with an insatiable desire to itch its claws.

“megumi- please, it’s too much-“ you huff through laboured breaths, peering up at him through tear stained eyelashes.

it’s almost enough to make him melt. almost.

“what is?”

“this?”

he shifts himself back up, grabbing his dick and slipping only the tip in once more. he allows you a few centimetres extra before dipping back out and repeating the process again. megumi’s gaze locks with yours, as though he’s asking ‘is this what you want?’

“s-stop teasing me.. just put it in alreadyy~” you choke out a groan of frustration, ready to slam your hips down onto the full length of his shaft.

“why should i?”

“megumi, i swear to god- if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“-or what? you’ll go to my dad? good luck, when you couldn’t even fulfill your duties as being his toy.”

so fucking humiliating.

the way megumi instantly stands up and proceeds to stuff his still hard and leaking dick back into his boxers.

he’ll deal with it later.

you’re left stuttering, unable to form any coherent words, thoughts or insults to spew back at him. legs wide open, cunt empty and glistening in the blue tint of the moonlight.

he leans over, swiping some of your excess drool with his thumb before dipping it into your mouth. he half expects you to lick at his thumb, convince him to stay a little longer, but his skin sits in your mouth like a forgotten thermometer for a couple of seconds.

“if only you could see your face right now.” he hums, tone flat with a certain mockery.

sometimes, as the days pass, you can notice his resemblance growing closer and closer to toji.

the following day

you haven’t left the quarters of your room for the entire day. you’re stuck in bed, face mushed into the confines of your pillow. you’ve always held high regards of the fact that your libido isn’t necessarily extremely high, but when you’re promised dick just to be neglected of it? shit feels like you’re in heat. you can’t go to toji, because you’re mother’s home. not only that, but he’d be sure to teach you one of his lessons. you’re already shivering thinking of the conversation with him, how you’d even try to dig out of that hole you were already so deep in.

you can’t call megumi either… at least not for now. you sigh wistfully into the pillow, kicking your legs about on your bed as you hiss a groan of turmoil.

there’s a sudden knock at the door that snaps you out of your haze. it leaves you pumped, blood coursing through your veins and you shoot up like an attentive little puppy about to be taken for a walk.

“it’s open!” you clear your throat, humming.

the disappointment rocks your features so clearly that it’s embarrassing. it’s just your mother.

“you okay? thought you died in here, baby. lunch is ready, and your lovely megumi-kun came to say hello.”

what?

“megumi? that’s nice. did he leave a message or anything? like he just dropped by to say hello or-“

“hm? oh, no. he’s having lunch with us.”

“is everything okay, dear?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m good. sorry, i spaced out a little bit. small headache, that’s all. i’ll change clothes and i’ll come out to eat.” you dismiss your mother, keeping in the hyperventilation you’re about to undergo. she gives you a small glance of concern before returning to the dining room to serve her guests.

“(y/n)! we were just talking about you!” your mother hums, gifting you a smile of warmth and radiance as she pours drinks into some cups.

you can feel toji’s mocking stare dig holes into your skin.

you can fucking feel it.

you can imagine him saying it.

“slut.”

at the six chaired table, you scurry to sit the furthest away from megumi and toji. your mother shoots you a sideways glance, motioning for the seat between toji and megumi. you swallow thickly, awkwardly striding over to take a seat.

your knee accidentally knocks into toji’s and you instantly utter an apology.

“you should be.” he mutters underneath his breath, disguising the words as a sigh.

“so? you said you were talking about me?” you straighten yourself, perking up a semblance of cheerfulness and perfect innocence.

“oh, right! toji was just telling me how stuffed you were yesterday!”

your lids flicker in shock and you abruptly stare at toji, whose half lidded jade green eyes slowly land on yours before locking to meet your attention for a few seconds.

“sorry, what?” you stutter, finding it difficult to believe the situation.

“you know, the food? are you sure you’re alright, honey? you’ve been acting strange since this morning.”

“i’m fine, i swear. just some painkillers would be nice.”

when your mother turns around to rummage for some painkillers, she emits a squeak of alarm at the lack of them.

please. you’ll do anything to get out of this predicament.

“are we out? i can go grab some-“

“-no, that’s okay. i’ll head out. i need to grab a few extra things for dinner anyway. you three, make nice with each other!”

sure.

when the door shuts, you realise you’re out of options.

you can’t run away.

“so, megumi. how’s eating up after my leftovers feel?”

“leftovers? because one woman wasn’t enough for you?” megumi scoffs, averting his gaze.

“it’s not my problem that your woman came running to me. doesn’t that say something about you?”

“like what?”

“like, you can’t fuck her properly?”

“i can’t fuck her properly? but you’re telling her to keep your cum inside her? don’t you care what’ll happen if she gets pregnant?”

“see, megumi. she’s on birth control. you didn’t know that? and besides, if i didn’t know any better-“

toji finally allows you his undivided attention, staring right through to your soul.

“-i’d think your little girlfriend here likes walking around with my cum inside her.”

you’d be able to run a butter knife through the tension hanging in the air. the room holds its breath, and as do you in compliment of trying not to set things off into a piping hot mess.

“isn’t that right-“

“-princess?”

your fight or flight response kicks in at the malicious tone that coats toji’s tongue. you swallow thickly, throat parched and lips cracked.

but fuck.

if it isn’t the most arousing thing- the two of them squabbling over you.

toji screws his face at you, features lighting in a mix of awe and delight.

“really? you’re seriously enjoying this?” toji hums with mockery, eyebrows perking at your unusual behaviour. he can smell the sweet nectar of your arousal slicking against your underwear.

you abruptly stand up, ready to leave.

megumi’s hand curls around your wrist. he slings your hand behind your back, slamming you over the table. some silverware and plates clatter and dash against the hardwood floor.

“answer the question, (y/n).” he hisses.

you whimper a soft whine. there’s no way you’re answering that.

“get your fucking hands off of her.” toji barks, kicking his chair back.

“try me.”

something washes over you. a premonition, say. that if you don’t speak up, someone will end up seriously injured.

“i can’t choose between you two. i just can’t. so i think it’s the best option if we just stop this completely.” you sigh, prying megumi off of you. his stance relaxes and you wince at the pain in your spine. you rub your wrists in slight agony, refusing to meet either of their gazes.

“it’s been fun, but i think it’s time to draw the line-“

“no.” toji remarks offhandedly.

“huh?” you contort your face in offence. there’s something thick on megumi’s face, too. it almost looks like determination?

“i said no.” toji reiterates, taking a stride towards you.

his index and thumb caress your chin, tilting your jaw up to look at him.

“i don’t care how long it takes. whether it’s me or him-“

“-i’m making you choose.”

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thegremlincrowsnest · 3 years

Text

Endeavor x Baker!Reader

CW: mild breeding kink, slight food kink at the end, FtM reader with a vagina, I am a himbo so my editing is on par at best

This is a new addition to my ongoing series: Linked Here

“Even tyrants have sweet tooths,” you said with a soft smile to Natsuo. He sat at the table behind you with the softest glare you’d ever seen, and asked -- very seriously -- if you were forced to come to their house to cook for his father, Enji. You were focused on piping the ladyfingers as close of an even layer as you could before baking them. The smooth trumpets and pianos of jazz filled the air along with the sweet aroma of your baking.

Putting them into the oven, you wiped your hands with a rag before tucking it into the side of your apron pocket. “Please feel free to try some of the samples! I promise I’ll have enough for the event tonight," you said with a wink. His cheeks turned a soft pink as he got up to try some of the lemon macaroons. Your ears perked up when you heard the front door open. Giant footsteps came towards the kitchen, and there stood the flame hero himself. Dressed in a black sweater and long coat, he gave you a small smile, greeting his son as well. Natsuo only glared before taking one more macaroon and patting your head gently before walking out.

The older man frowned softly before walking into the kitchen. You knew it was none of your business, so you kept working, thankful for the music to fill the quiet space to prevent it from getting too awkward. He tasted a few of the macaroons and other petit fours you made for tonight. Cheesecake squares, lemon tarts, chocolate tarts, and the like.

“What do you still need to make?” He asked as he looked around his kitchen. Noticing the small pile of dishes, he rolled up his sleeves and began to assist in cleaning as you started to whip the mascarpone.

“Well, I was going to make you a tiramisu. I still have time that you’ve got me here, so I decided to make you one as a thank you!” You said with a warm smile. His cheeks turned a dusty pink at the sight of you. You were smiling and humming softly to yourself as you worked. Enji could only grunt a response as he busied himself with cleaning. He couldn’t help but stare, however.

He admired how the pudge of your thighs looked through your shorts, your love handles being hugged by your top. Your apron, while a standard culinary one, looked intensely sexy in contrast to your outfit underneath. He had insisted you dress comfortably while you work since he couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable it is cooking in a kitchen. A timer went off, and you went to take your ladyfingers out of the oven. Enji held his breath when he saw you bend over. The slight darker area of your inner thigh became visible, your shorts pressing against your pussy lips in a way where he knew you were aroused. But he kept his composure.

Finishing up the dishes, he asked, “Your partner must be spoiled with everything you cook.” He watched you out of the corner of his eye for your reaction.

Without missing a beat, you chuckled, saying “No, no partner here, just a free little raven.” Looking up at him, he could have sworn he saw a glimmer of mischief there. Your skin, reminiscing of a warm hazel fay in the golden glow of dawn, drew him in like a moth to a flame. He reached over to wipe off some flour from your cheek. Your skin felt warm under his touch; he smiled down at you as you looked up at him. You looked adorable in his kitchen, so small and soft. He could throw you around like it was nothing, but he couldn’t, not yet. “I guess I wouldn’t mind having a little house husband like you around my house,” he said with a smirk.

You chuckled, and without looking up, you said, “I’m sure I’d be round with your kids constantly, Mr. Todoroki.” Enji could only stare at your response, mentally fighting a boner cropping up at the idea of having you bred.

“I do want to thank you again for hiring me, Mr. Todoroki,” you said with that same soft smile. He could only return it, moving his hand back.

“You’re my favorite little baker; of course, I’d hire your services,” he responded.

“If there’s… anything I can do for you, Mr.Todoroki, please tell me.” You said as you placed a hand over his on the counter. You shifted closer and he noticed a refined subtle sweetness he’d never noticed before. You bat your lashes up at him, full lips pouting slightly up at the large hero. He couldn’t help his eyes from devouring your form. Your full cleavage peeked out deliciously from your apron and he let out a shaky breath. The music had taken a noticeably more seductive tone as he took your form in, fueling the growing tension between you two. “Be careful what you wish for, my dear,” he responded.

You could only smile as you looked down to the growing bulge in front of you back up to his face. “Well, you do own me for the next few hours, sir. You can do whatever you wish to me,” You said as you turned back to the tiramisu. He stood there for a moment, processing what you had said as you begin to layer the coffee-soaked ladyfingers with filling. He decided to test his luck; standing closer to you, he leaned down to your ear level. One hand placed on your back begins to slowly drift down as he asks questions about the cake and other treats. You preened as you explained what you’re doing, stuttering softly as you feel his hand dip underneath your shorts. He chuckled as your words started to slur a bit at the feeling of his fingers. “I’m barely grazing this cute little hole, and you’re already so wet,” he said as he slowly fingered your entrance. You braced yourself against the counter, pushing back slightly as he pulled down your shorts.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw your pussy. Wet, puffy, and delectable. Falling to his knees, he gripped your hips, as he pushed yourself against his face. He inhaled deeply, groaning as his senses were evaded by the smell of your arousal. His tongue lapped at your entrance, thumbs pulling apart your lips as he dove his tongue deeper into your entrance. You tried to muffle your moans, the feeling of his breathe brushing against your most sensitive area drove you insane. . He notices your knees shaking and maneuvers you around himself. Turning you around so your back is to the counter, he makes you hold up your apron. Moving one thick thigh onto his shoulder, he dove back in, making you keep eye contact with him as he began to finger your entrance. Your juices ran down his arm as he begins to stretch you out.

“Good boy, taking my fingers so well," he said. Turning his head, he bite down gently on your inner thigh, running his tongue over your skin. He couldn’t help but shiver, tasting your sweat. “Just as sweet…” He mumbles as he lifted your other leg over his shoulder. He pushed you back onto the counter, shoving aside empty bowls and dirty utensils.

“Seeing you laid out like this”, he growled. Stripping off your apron and shirt, he grabbed your breast, thumbing your large nipples; he licks his lips as he watches them harden. “Your body is so responsive. I wanted to try and take my time, but… you’re so delicious,” he groaned. You heave as you try to steady yourself; looking up at your boss, you reach out for him, making grabby hands. He chuckles as he leaned down, letting you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders as you kiss him deeply. Tasting faintly of the lemon macaroons you made as well as coffee. He smells deep, musky, and intoxicating; your eyes roll back as you moan into his kiss. The music was loud enough you were certain Natsuo couldn’t hear you two, but with how Enji was prepping you, that certainty waned. Breaking the kiss momentarily, he pulls back; unbuttoning his pants; he pulls out his cock. In seeing it you have a moment of panic at if it can fit or not. Thick and veiny, it stood tall at 10 in length; you felt yourself drool a the sight.

Enji chuckled at your response; gathering enough of your essence, he smeared it on his cock as you absentmindedly reached down and rubbed your clit to the sight. You both stood there for a moment, watching each other masturbate between heated kisses. “Please, Enji… fuck me,” you begged.

He groaned as you spread open your lips for him. He pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, gripping the back of your head so you can watch as his cock stretches you open. Your stomach rolled in on itself as Enji grips your stomach and love handles. Balls deep he ruts against you slightly, reveling in your soft mewls and whimpers. You look up at him, warm tinted eyes meeting his blue topaz, and he loses his last hold on control. Thrusting as fast as he can, his deep grunts mixed beautifully with the soft bass and saxophones. The song was loud and chaotic and Enji held you close as his thrusts held the same energy. His balls slapped against your ass as his hands pin your hips to the counter. His grunts and growls filled your ears as he picks you up, using both hands to hold you close, cupped under your ass, and gripping your flesh.

“You’re such a good boy, taking my cock so well nngh! Fuck, if you tighten up any more I’ll burst," he grunts as he turned around, leaning against the counter and thrusts up into you. Bouncing you on his cock he reached down and begins to play with your clit. Licking and sucking on your neck as you cum around his cock. He doesn’t slow down. Gripping your ass with both hands he used you as a fleshlight, fucking into your oversensitive cunt with glee as you beg for his cum. “What does my baby boy want?” He asked as he tilts your face to his.

“C-cum! want daddy’s cum!” You moaned out with a whine. He smiled, holding you down on him as he’s balls deep inside of you. He groaned lowly as his balls throb, pumping you with cum.

“Such a good boy, taking all that cum for me," he said as he rubbed your back, knowledgeable enough to not mess up your hair.

“Thankfully the party isn’t until later. I want to have some more fun with my personal baker. What do you think about that, baby boy?” He whispered into your ear. You only nod, a blissed out look on your face as your thighs shiver from being held apart for so long.

You could get used to this, being in his strong arms, thick cock snug in your cum filled entrance as the sounds of smooth jazz and the wafts of sweets circle around you. Now all you hope is your cum doesn’t drip into anything important. However, unbeknownst to you, the bowl of mascarpone filling had fallen in your tryst, and ass very conveniently underneath you both. Enji glanced down between you, And a smirk graced his features at the sight"

#cernunnos writing #bnha smut #endeavor smut #bnha enji #enji todoroki #endeavor #enji smut #ftm reader #poc reader

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