#sorry this was lil plot heavy

[sttoru]

[ 𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 ]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the king of curses cannot fight off his primal urges and thus you suffer the consequences.

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, angst (w/ comfort), p.orn with mostly plot. mäting press. choking. rough like.. condescendingly rough. objectification. toxic relationship? yes. small hint of creampiē. double cawks. reader gets called ‘slut, girl, woman’ wc: 3.9k

“look at that slutty cunt takin’ my cock. think i wanna try fitting both at once in that lil’ hole. keh,” sukuna grunts as he looks down at you from above. your legs are burning from being folded in half—matter of fact—your entire body is aching.

any normal person would call out their safeword in a situation like this. you’re overwhelmed to the point that your brain doesn’t know what to do. you’re experiencing euphoria, yet feel like your doom is right around the corner.

you’re playing with fire whenever you’re intimate with the king of curses.

it’s too addictive to stop. being his favorite concubine has given you enough motivation to push through any difficulties. any discomfort your body feels, is automatically discarded and replaced with drowning pleasure. it’s like sukuna has put a spell on you; one that’s unbreakable.

“fffnghh—my lord,” you gasp for air as one of his big hands wrap tightly around your throat. your airway is blocked, nearly crushed by sukuna’s immense force. you get a flashback to the last time he’s choked you, how sukuna nearly lost control of his own strength.

your eyes are watery as your insides follow each thrust. back and forth, in and out. it is a simple rhythm, but you cannot get enough. the harsh and sticky echoes of skin slapping against skin are nearly ear deafening. his heavy balls bounce against the plush flesh of your ass with every move, ready to unload everything they’ve stored.

“shut up,” sukuna spits, looking down at you like you’re but a mere insect. perhaps you were exactly that to him in the heat of the moment. his red eyes show that he’s losing himself. that cruel yet greedy look only intensifies with the second, “you only speak when y’re spoken to—or did y’ forget your damn place?”

you swallow your words and resort to simple moaning after you apologise, “i’m sorry, m’lord.” your blurry vision creates a trippy illusion, giving sukuna eight arms and eyes. not only are you seeing double, the feeling of ecstasy is twice as strong. you feel like you’re being ripped apart from the inside.

you can’t speak about it. you’re not allowed to open your mouth unless it’s to moan or breathe. perhaps even the latter is too much to ask. your fingers shake as they wrap around sukuna’s wrist. you try to tug at the hand that is wrapped around your throat, but your strength is gone.

your body is shaking violently with each thrust. you can’t keep up with anything that’s happening. you’re unable to process the feeling of sukuna’s second cock trying to prod its way into your cunt as well. you’re going to break — he’s going to break you.

you want to speak up and tell him you can’t take both in the same hole at once. it’s an impossible task; one can’t even fit that easily. he’s girthy and got an immense length, an inhuman one you’ve never seen before. you swear you can feel him in your tummy. the tip feeling like it's nestled right underneath your belly button.

sukuna scoffs as you tighten up around his lower cock. you’re weak; a weak human who he can’t seem to get out of his mind. he wants to exploit that obedience of yours today—to ruin you mentally and physically.

he can’t ignore those urges to ruin that what causes him weakness. he wishes to regain the power over himself again. that can only be done by consuming you, removing you from existence.

“i can’t fuckin’ stand you,” sukuna growls, his eyes darkening beyond imagination, “y’re always in the way.” you’re scared of the king of curses, which rarely happens. the last time you were afraid of his monstrous aura was during your first encounter in the woods. his manly hand squeezes your throat until you’re genuinely struggling to breathe.

there’s an unmistakable sense of danger boiling in your guts. this is the real nature of the curse named ryomen sukuna. the man above you, who’s drilling his cock into you while you’re suffering, is the real deal.

the true face of the man you thought you knew.

“i’m gonna get rid of you, y’hear? after this, y’re nothing,” sukuna pants, sweat droplets falling onto your cheeks from above. he looks like he’s internally fighting with himself. the expression on his face tells you enough. you want to reach a hand out towards his cheek and hold it.

he looks beautiful, even when he spews such serious threats at you. your cunt is burning and holding tightly onto his cock, even when you realise it may break you.

you’ve stayed for so long with him, even when you know you’ll one day die at his side or by his hands.

locks of his pink hair stick to his forehead. sweat rolls down those black tattoos. all four red eyes are burning with a carnal desire to claim you as his property—to destroy you like his property. as is his right. that’s the only way to satiate that overwhelming feeling inside of sukuna.

whenever you’re around him, he finds himself drawn by your presence. he wants you to stay by his side all day, and if you aren’t, it’s like gravity is pulling him towards you. sukuna despises it—he craves to possess you, yet also get rid of your entire being. that way he can return to his normal self. the monster he's known as.

“i’ll throw ya away—gonna get a new toy to spend more time with,” the king of curses digs his nails into the back of your knees. the tip of his upper cock glides back and forth over your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until it’s burning. you’re losing yourself in both pleasure and pain.

the hurtful words don’t seem to affect you. you still look up at him like he’s your everything—like he’s the reason you exist. sukuna turns furious the moment he notices that his threats don’t seem to work. you’re impossible and he hates that which he cannot control.

he cuts off any air that may enter your lungs. your eyes widen and your fingers tug at his wrist so he’d let loose, but alas. you’re going to lose consciousness without a doubt. tears stream down your cheeks, though not because of the hopelessness you’re feeling.

“i do not need you anymore,” sukuna says gruffly, trying to convince himself of that statement as well. he never needed anyone else during his entire lifetime, so why would he need you? he can replace you with any another woman.

your body goes limp. sukuna’s voice is muffled as you enter a state of half consciousness. you’re at the bridge between life and death. your eyes catch a glimpse of the faint struggle in his eyes.

he looks like a monster through and through, visibly acting like one too. though you’re able to catch a glimpse of an underlying vulnerability. that part of him that always shows itself when you two are alone—making you feel special because you’re the only one allowed to witness it.

you crack a faint, weak smile. even if you perish right then and there, it’s going to be at the hands of the man you’ve learnt to love. the sorcerer who’s made you feel on top of the world, without him realising it. you’ll forever be thankful for the moments you’ve spent together.

you’ll never forget the times where sukuna has made you feel safe in those same arms that will now be your death.

a tear slides down your temple. you look sukuna in the eyes while you’re seconds away from meeting your end. you show no signs of struggle as he gives you your final command;

“die.”

you close your eyes. your fingers loosen their grip around sukuna’s wrist before you let your hand fall at your side. you’ve accepted your fate with a weary smile, honored to have sukuna be the last thing you see, “understood, my lord.”

you’ve lost feeling in all limbs and your eyelids droop. all you can do is await for death to come collect your soul. it’s dark and you can’t hear a thing anymore. you’re confused when the burning sensation in your lungs returns.

your eyes fly open the moment some oxygen is able to reach your airway again. the harsh fingers around your neck have disappeared, though not without leaving aching marks. you clutch your chest as it hurts to breathe after not being able to for the longest time.

you gasp and cough uncontrollably. you wince and blink the tears away from your eyes, refocusing your vision on the large stature detaching from your side. you’re bewildered to say the least—not realising the reason behind sukuna’s sudden change of heart. he’s sworn to get rid of you, didn’t he?

he told you to die and yet he let you live.

“fuck,” the king of curses groans after he snapped out of the dangerous state he was in. he’s panting snd staring at the hand that was once wrapped around your throat. he’s not looking at you at all.

you feel him pull out which makes you hiss. you sit up, the adrenaline helping your tired body move itself. sukuna is silent, with no emotions apparent on his face. however one thing you can conclude for sure is that he’s caught off guard by his own actions.

he can’t get it out of his head. the vision of you laying beneath him, accepting your doom as told. even on the brink of death, you oblige. you accept his every word. why? sukuna’s head is filled with unanswered questions.

you’re an enigma that he cannot solve.

“out of the way, girl,” sukuna easily shoves you to the side with one hand. he’s still not looking you in the eyes. he refuses to look in the eyes of the one woman whom he tried to kill. the sole woman who seems to accept him for who he is.

you’re the only one who’s able to understand him and yet he tried to get rid of you. perhaps he’s afraid of being understood and accepted. sukuna is fine on his own—there’s no need for anyone by his side.

you manage to get your breathing under control after a couple seconds. you’re still hyperventilating, but it’s getting better. your body shakes as you cover yourself with the sheets, your hair messily covering your vision. you reach a hand out to sukuna, curious about what’s gotten into him, “i’m, ngh- are you okay, m—”

“i said, get out,” the man raises his voice before harshly grabbing your wrist. sukuna pushes you towards the exit of his chambers. you stumble forward and manage to catch yourself by grabbing onto the nearest wall. everything is happening so fast.

you simply nod and grab your robes from the floor. you hurriedly cover yourself before stepping out of the room. you fall to your knees not two steps away into the hallway. your hand flies up to your neck, touching it as if making sure that you’re still alive.

you can’t believe sukuna spared you. if he changed his mind one second later than he originally had, you’d be a lost cause.

tears well up in your eyes as the gravity of the situation settles in. you may have accepted your fate in the heat of the moment, but now that it’s over, you’re left trembling on your own. you can’t shake off that intense look in sukuna’s eyes as he pounded you into the mattress.

he was hungry for your soul. to consume you and not leave any of your bones—to get rid of you so you’re out of his sight and mind.

you sniffle and can’t bring yourself to stand up. you’ve lost strength in your legs because the adrenaline levels in your body have dropped. you slowly crawl over the floor and hope that no one catches you in a pitiful state like this.

you manage to get a couple metres away, though soon find yourself staring at a pair of socks that come into view. you lift your head and the owner of the tabi eventually appears in sight.

“uraume,” your voice is hoarse. you make eye contact with sukuna’s personal chef as they stand before you, their expression unreadable.

the sigh they let out tells you that they’ve expected such an outcome since long ago. without a word, they reach a hand out and help you up.

. . .

it’s been a week since then. uraume has helped you recover from that unfortunate experience. the other concubines didn’t dare talk to you. they’ve noticed the change in sukuna’s behavior after that night he spent with you.

he’s gone on more rampages than he usually does. he’s been killing innocent servants who walked past him while on duty, and visiting nearby villages only to commit mass destruction. his emotions are uncontrollable at this point and no one has a clue on what to do.

the best option is to stay out of sukuna’s sight. and not to mess with you, just in case.

you’ve personally tried to approach him a couple times, but either chicken out or get totally ignored. you really want to talk it out, though it may seem impossible. you’ve evaded death once, you’re not sure if you can do that twice.

you’re currently sitting on a bench in the courtyard as uraume is applying an ointment to your throat. your neck still hurts with every move you make. the strength of sukuna’s hand is not to be underestimated, you know that.

you flinch as they rub the cold liquid over your achy skin. it helps numbing the pain, which is god sent for when you want to sleep. you can easily rest without having to suffer the unbearable discomfort in your neck muscles.

it’s a bit quiet in the garden. it isn’t unusual for uraume to be silent, but you’re aching to talk about what’s bothering you. of course, the oh-so-important subject includes no one other than the king of curses.

you sigh and start rambling about your failed attempts to reconcile your relationship with sukuna. you’re getting frustrated and sad at the situation. you want nothing more than to go back to how things were—with you receiving special treatment.

you miss his voice, his touches, his hair, his skin, his muscles, his eyes, his hugs. . . it’s all too much to bear with. you want the sukuna you know back. you don’t care if he tried to get rid of you. you’ve long understood that it was his primal, unspoken urges that had taken over his brain.

“i don’t know.. he doesn’t want to talk to me nor see me,” you shrug and pout. uraume nods and tilts your chin back gently to get the ointment in every little cranny. you stare up at the bright blue sky, the gentle breeze being comforting, both mentally and physically.

your ears pick up on footsteps behind you. heavy footsteps which you recognise as sukuna’s. you whip your head to the side, perhaps a bit too fast, causing the pain in your neck muscles to return. you hear uraume sigh as they see their hard work go to waste in under a split second.

your eyes are focused on sukuna’s large stature filling out the layout of the garden. uraume politely bows at their master after taking a few steps away from you. they don’t lift their head as sukuna walks past you both.

he doesn’t spare you a glance. it’s like you’re not there at all. you frown and pout, though know better than to make a fool out of yourself and speak up. you watch the man walk into the main building of the estate, his sharp eyes focused on the path ahead, his hands resting inside the sleeves of his black kimono.

once sukuna disappears from your vision, you sigh and slump back against the bench. you look at uraume as they move close to you again, taking a glance at your neck. you huff and cock your head to the entrance of the building, “see! that’s what i mean!”

you’re clearly fed up. you just want to make up. you don’t care about the fact that he nearly killed you in that moment. you simply desire to feel that connection between the two of you again. a complicated relationship with its many ups and downs. it may be toxic, but you crave it.

uraume hums at your worries. they radiate a sense of peace that inevitably calms you down as well. they take a quick glance at the direction where sukuna was last seen. they’ve been serving him ever since decennia back—way before you became his concubine.

they’ve never seen him this conflicted, but they don’t tell you that. uraume looks back at you with a simple nod, trusting that you’ll be fine. if your life has been spared when sukuna was in such an indescribable irrational state of mind, then there’s nothing to worry about.

you’re the only one who’s ever escaped death by his hands. that is an incredible feat by itself.

uraume rubs the oil over your neck again, getting the last spots as they reassure you with one simple sentence; “i’m sure lord sukuna simply requires some time alone.”

. . .

you take uraume’s comment seriously. if sukuna needed time, you’ll give him as much space as possible. and thus it’s been another week ever since then.

it’s a sunday night and you can’t sleep. you get up from your futon and wrap a simple blanket around your body. you can’t be bothered to brush your hair or look proper. no one will be up during this ungodly hour anyway.

you sneak out of your chambers and walk down the long hallways. you slide the door to the courtyard open and step out onto the pavement after putting on your geta. it’s a chilly night with a full moon, perfect weather to take a breather.

you walk around the familiar scenery and crouch down near a patch of flowers. they’re your favorites. sukuna had personally ordered his servants to plant them in the garden after he found out you like them. the memory brings a fond smile to your face.

such small yet meaningful actions never fail to melt your heart. it’s another reason why you want to make up with sukuna. you want to help with whatever he’s struggling with, however you know that man will never accept the aid.

you wish to support him at the very least. you want to show your devotion to him, if that already wasn’t clear to him.

you sigh and stand up. you’re caught up in your own thoughts to realise that someone’s been watching you the entire time. you walk straight forward until you reach the koi pond. you stare at the fish as they float in the clear water.

you wish you could be as carefree as them. you turn around to walk back to your room after it’s getting a bit too cold. you did not expect to bump your head against a hard surface. “ow,” you rub your forehead and look up.

there he stands; the man you’ve been dying to see and speak to. sukuna stares down at you without uttering a word, his sharp eyes finally looking into yours.

“ry— my lord,” you stammer, switching to a more polite stance. you’re thrilled, but the excitement quickly dies down as you remember uraume’s words; he needs time. you don’t want to disturb him, as much as you want to jump into his arms. you bow your head at him, “have a good night.”

your heart hurts as you force yourself away from sukuna. you step away from him and look at the ground as you walk. simply seeing him from up close again has been enough for now. though, your body yearns for more.

a simple touch will suffice. . .

you’re surprised when you feel a tug at the blanket around your shoulders. you stumble back and nearly fall on your bum if it wasn’t for sukuna holding you up. you feel an arm sneak around your waist from behind, surprisingly gentle. much gentle than ever before.

sukuna lowers his head to whisper in your ear. he lets his wet tongue slide over the shell, nibbling at the skin as if reminding himself of your taste, “stay.”

it’s an order, that you can tell. you’re weak for him and thus you obey without a single sign of protest. you feel a sudden sharp sting on the side of your neck which makes you remember what caused it. sukuna seems to notice the same thing.

it’s been getting better, but you still randomly get tingles near your neck area when you move it around too much. you silently push through the pain, which only lasts about a few seconds.

sukuna doesn’t comment on it, but takes a mental note of the sight. he’s recalling that time when you’ve nearly died at his hands. his eyes darken at the memory. he’s been trying to process the fact that he’s lost control over himself. those dark urges had taken over his mind and body, nearly consuming him whole.

they’re still hidden inside him—the desires to possess you, crush you, consume and devour your heart, body and soul. they intensify when you’re with him. it doesn’t happen with anyone else.

sukuna still cannot comprehend why you. what does that feeling in his stomach mean whenever he’s with you? it’s irritating, because it confuses him. confusing things which he doesn’t hold the answer over, annoy the king of curses.

an urge to claim someone as his forever, going as far as to want to consume them, is a new feeling to sukuna. it’s an unhealthy obsession that’s started because of you.

is that what humans call love?

he’s thought about it. perhaps, that is the case. but it must be a different type of love—one that’s so overwhelming that it’s dangerous. for both parties involved.

sukuna sighs. thinking about emotions and feelings isn’t his forte—it never really was. it’s stupid and foolish. and yet sukuna feels like a true king whenever you’re with him. your devotion to him sends shivers down his spine in a good way.

it showed two weeks ago. he saw how you accepted your position; your death. it turns him on to see you so submissive and obedient. maybe that’s also a reason why he nearly lost his mind that day.

lust is a scary thing.

sukuna’s lips avoid your neck. he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder, simply standing still against you from behind. the chilly breeze is long forgotten as his large stature protects you from the cold air. you don’t even need your blanket anymore.

you smile in content as you finally get what you want. you don’t even need an apology. hell—you don’t even need any words. this moment is more than enough to rebuild your relationship with the man behind you.

“y’re not going anywhere, yeah?” sukuna says in a low and possessive tone. it’s another command you follow without hesitation. he’s never going to tell you directly, but the lack of your presence has definitely been felt. now that he has you, his favorite concubine, he’s not going to lose you again. he won’t allow it.

you nod at sukuna’s words with a chuckle. you’re happy to be back in his warm embrace. you know that sukuna isn’t one to talk about his own inner turmoil, so you don’t push it.

those dark urges of his are to be discussed another day, if sukuna allows it. for now, this fleeting moment is more than enough. you reply to his order as you always do, to any command that leaves his lips;

“understood, my lord.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk angst #sukuna angst

[truetogaia]

come awnnn ya'll knew I had to write a longer one..

pairing: fiancé!miguel o'hara x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+

synopsis: Miguel wakes up to a... hard... problem, one only you can help solve..

warnings: just pure smut with a lil plot, p in v, unprotected sex, depictions, mature n explicit themes, no pull out sorry lolz, size kink, morning sex, vulgar language, breeding kink,

word count: 950!

requests: open !

NOT PROOFREAD! I Miguel masterlist

His buff arms crept around your middle, wrapping securely around you as your head rested on his broad chest. Mornings like these were rare, ones where you could just relish in the loving embrace of your boyfriend, and soon to be husband. The newly acquired ring weighed heavy on your finger as you reached a hand up to tuck some loose hair behind his ear. The material of it shimmered in the gentle light of the setting sun, casting reflections onto a white wall just in front of you. 

The gentle rise and fall of his chest, synced with his breaths, lulled you into a state of drowsiness. He had been asleep for quite a while now. You glanced at the clock on his wrist, careful not to move too much despite the tight hold he had on you. It was exactly 8:43. And as if he could sense it, he began stirring, throwing you on the floor in the process. You landed on the wooden floor with a loud thud, wincing as your tailbone took the hit. 

Miguel shot up, looking around frantically for the source of the sound. His gaze landed on you, sprawled out on the floor as you tried to process what had just happened. A soft chuckle left your lips, which soon turned into a fit of giggles. Your fiance looked at you with a puzzled expression, one eyebrow quirked in response to your strange antics. 

“What are you doing?” His deep, raspy morning voice sent a slight shiver up your spine, making you abruptly stop your giggling. 

“Well, you woke up and I… found myself down here..” You said, smiling sweetly at him. He began removing the blanket from his body to get up, stopping suddenly as he realized. You peeked up at him, wondering why he had suddenly frozen. 

“Hey, sweets, I've got a little problem, fear I'm gonna need your help..” You hummed, getting up as you rubbed your tailbone slightly. It stung, but it was bearable. Your eyes finally landed on said problem, raising your eyebrows slightly at his huge bulge. 

“Morning boner? Really? At your grown age?” You teased, earning a light scoff from the man. He narrowed his eyes at you, before shooting up to catch you in a hug before pulling you down with him towards the messy bed.

“Come on, you love me.. So help me out, yeah?” You giggled, nodding as you gently pulled away from his embrace. Your legs straddled his hips, struggling to wrap all the way around due to the difference in size.. And muscle. 

-

Now he had his large, rough hand planted on your love handles, pressing your soft hips down onto him with ease. His cock pumped in and out of you at a pace which had you blabbering incoherent nonsense, body slumping forward to rest against his chest. Miguel tried his best to stay as quiet as he could to relish in your sounds, but the way you were squeezing his cock just right sidetracked him. 

Soft moans spilled from your plump, kiss-swollen lips as his own attached to the sensitive skin of your neck. He placed gentle, sloppy kisses along the curve of it, paying extra attention to your sensitive areas as if it would drown out the blissful pleasure of his length dragging in and out of your squelching heat. 

Your hands tirelessly gripped at his larger forearms, nails digging into the skin in sync with his relentless thrusts. You were still sat atop him, legs aching from the stretch the width of his brawny hips offered.

“There sweetheart.. I thought I was the one.. who- fuck.. who was supposed to receive help.” He tutted, voice deep and dripping with.. adoration? love? lust? All of the above? He didn’t really know what to feel, all he knew was that he loved the feeling of his soon-to-be wife’s smaller body enveloping his.

“Y..yeah.. you’re just.. too big, couldn’t move properly..” You said between broken moans. He chuckled, gently grabbing your arms, hands sliding down your forearms to hold your hands. He leaned forward, catching your lips in a lazy kiss. 

“Fuck.. can’t wait to marry you.. To have a family” he muttered in between sloppy kisses, tongue dancing with yours as he fucked into you from below. 

“Mhmn.. Y’know, some people create families before they get married..” Your soft voice felt like clouds in his ears, and his hands found their place on your hips again, a groan escaping his mouth at your words. 

“Yeah? You wanna have kids now? Want me to fill you?” He smirked as you nodded desperately, feeling your hot cunt clamp down on him and throb around him. “may as well give you what you want, no? Early wedding gift..” His hips stuttered, cock twitching inside of you as you ran your hands down his chest, mouth agape. With one final thrust, he came deep inside your womb, painting your gummy walls white as you spasmed on top of him, reaching your own high. 

“There we go, now we wait” His voice was raspy as you laid on his chest, catching your breath. He smoothed a hand down your spine, resting it in the small of your back. You giggled lightly, the bedroom now filled with the smell of sex.

“Come on, let's take a shower, we stink!” You said, grabbing his hand to pull him with you. You smiled as you got up, hissing slightly from the ache in your legs. You heard a chuckle erupt from your fiance's mouth, turning around to scold him. “You owe me big time, mister.”

“Is a baby not enough?”

#miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut

[katiexpunk]

Scarlet Haze - Part 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader | W/C: ~4K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: Life in the QZ was fairly predictable. That was, until Joel Miller showed up on your doorstep covered in blood. Since then, you've helped him more times than you can count. Now it's his turn to return the favor.

Series Warnings: SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. Set in the TLOU universe in the Boston QZ. Buckle the fuck up for a lot of filthy, feral smut. Check chapter warnings for specifics. This series will follow them through current day (May 2024). Chapter Warning: Setting up some plot before the smut. Canon-typical violence. Blood. Blood sucking (just a lil drop, it's hot, trust me). Sexual tension. Bloody knuckles/wounded Joel. Descriptions of medical care. Guns. Mentions of unwanted pregnancy (not readers). Hallucinations similar to a drug high. Mentions of abortion and abortion medication. Mentions of abuse (not to reader/not by Joel). No use of Y/N. Reader has no physical descriptions. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I've been waiting to a sex pollen fic for forever. This series is dedicated to the lovely Jett -- @morallyinept -- as part of her and her brilliant May Flora and Fauna Challenge. Part 2 coming 5/12.

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

“Love, my dear, is the opium of the masses, and once people get high on it, they will trample you like wild horses.” ― Yanko Tsvetkov

Boston QZ, January 2023 The clock ticks past midnight, the only sound in the small, cluttered room where you sit at an ancient, creaking desk. The journal before you is just as old, its pages yellowed and wrinkled from water damage, the ink smudged but still legible. Medical diagrams and handwritten notes fill its margins, proof that such knowledge was more prevalent than now. You strain your eyes in the dim light of a single lamp, deciphering the faded text.

Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door jolts you from your concentration. Your heart skips a beat. It’s late, well past the enforced curfew. FEDRA doesn’t take kindly to nighttime wanderers. You take a deep breath, rise, and approach the door, your steps silent on the wooden floor.

Peering through the peephole, you see the night alive with rain, water streaming down in sheets, distorting the figure standing on your doorstep. You slowly open the door. The broad shoulders hunched against your worn doorframe tell you exactly who it is. His knuckles are bloody, fresh crimson mingling with the rainwater, creating a diluted red that flows into the puddles on the pavement.

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice etched with concern. “Doc,” he rasps, giving you a stiff nod. 

“We can't keep doing this.” 

He looks down, following your gaze to the bloody water at his feet, and then back at you. He offers you a sheepish, almost apologetic grimace. He winces in pain and you know his knuckles are probably the least of his injuries. 

Your face tightens with worry. 

“Show me.” 

He responds by opening his jacket and lifting his shirt to reveal a deep, gruesome gash across his abdomen. You sigh. Hate to see the other guy. 

Without a word, you step aside, gesturing him into the warmth. “Sit in the kitchen chair. I’ll get my kit,” you instruct, closing the door behind him.

He lumbers in, his heavy boots thudding on your floor, leaving wet, muddy prints. You hurry to fetch your medical supplies, already cataloging the steps you need to take to clean and stitch the wound. 

Tonight, like many nights before, you’ll patch him up again.  And like all the nights before, you have a feeling you’ll be left wondering how it even came to this in the first place. 

++++

You carefully wrap the bandages around his side, the room silent except for the rain tapping against the window and the rhythmic sound of his breath.

"Sorry, just a little more," you tell him, giving him an empathetic smile, pulling the bandage snugly against his skin to ensure it's secure. "This should help keep the stitches in place," you add, smoothing the edges as you tape them down. Your hand trails over the hard lines of his core, and breath hitches in your throat. He’s firm, a mass of a man, yet somehow soft around his middle.

"Gonna give you an antibiotic" you explain, preparing the syringe. You notice his focus on the rain-streaked window, his jaw set in a stoic line. “Might sting a bit,” you warn, and he chuckles. When you administer the shot, he doesn’t flinch, just pulls his shirt back over his shoulders with a quiet grunt of acknowledgment. 

You step back, giving him space to adjust his shirt, watching him move with careful, controlled motions. "That should do it for the wound," you say, avoiding saying what you really want to. 

"Thanks, Doc," he says, his voice low and thick like honey.

He looks at you then, really looks, noticing the tiredness in your eyes that doesn't hide your beauty. "You owe me, Miller," you say with a smile, trying to keep the mood light.

"Yeah," he agrees, his tone more serious than the situation warrants. 

He rises to his full height and steps closer to you. You tilt your chin to meet his gaze, and his calloused hand gently cradles your cheek. The pad of his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, a tender but deliberate touch, his eyes locking with yours in an intense gaze that thickens the air around you.

“I do.” 

He drinks you in, his eyes dark and hungry. You feel the heat of his attention and it ignites every nerve in your body. His gaze falls to your lips, and yours to his. You stay there for a breath, inches away from an entirely different night.

You place your hand over his on your face, before grabbing it and pulling it down, turning it gently so you can inspect his knuckles. "You—you should let me clean these up, too."

"No point, Darlin'," he responds, and you feel a knot tighten in your stomach. 

You almost challenge him, ask why he thinks it doesn't matter, but the answer hangs unspoken between you— it’ll happen again. Like fine wine and cheese, Joel Miller and bloody knuckles just seem to go together. 

You're always worried about him, though you'd never openly admit it.

It's late, and the rain shows no signs of stopping. "You could stay," you suggest, hesitating slightly, “If—if you want.” The words hang in the air, surprising even you with their sudden presence.

He pauses, looking deeply into your eyes. Time seems to slow, the world fading away until only he remains in focus. He lowers his hand and steps back, his movement reluctant.

"Better not," he says, voice heavy.

He turns and slides the chair back under the worn dining room table, the wooden legs screeching across the floor, shattering the silence. He then moves around you and heads towards the door. 

You watch him leave, every part of you wanting to call him back, to keep him safe under your roof.

"See you next time, Doc," he calls over his shoulder, glancing back at you framed in the warm glow of your apartment. He looks down, willing his feet to move forward, ignoring every fiber of his being trying to make him turn back to you.

"God damn it, Miller," you say with a half-laugh, shaking your head in a mix of irritation and affection.

You watch him walk away until his figure merges with the rainy night, becoming just another blurred shape in the darkness.

Once inside, the room suddenly feels chillier without him there.

++++

Boston QZ, May 2023

"Who's next?" you ask, stepping out of an exam room, ready to keep the day moving.

She hands you a chart, and as you scan the details, a familiar name catches your eye: Daisy. Your heart sinks a little. Married to a FEDRA guard known for his cruelty, Daisy's visits are all too frequent, and the reasons are always distressing—'accidents' that never sound like accidents. With a heavy sigh, you brace yourself and walk into the next room.

"Daisy, what brings you in today?" you ask, though you're almost sure you know the kind of answer you'll get.

She's sitting on the exam table, her face in her hands, sobbing. "Doc—I, I don't know what I'm going to do," she stammers out between tears. You close the door gently behind you, hoping not to draw any attention from other patients. Her words are few, but her eyes say everything.

"Oh, Daisy, I'm so sorry." you say soothingly, your stomach twisting with the gravity of her situation. You finish up the appointment, providing the care she needs right now, but the real solution she's looking for isn't something you have on hand.

Back at the medicine cabinet, you scan for mifepristone and misoprostol, but the shelf is bare—a too common problem these days with supplies running low everywhere.

"Damn it," you mutter under your breath, pushing vials and bottles aside as you search every inch of the shelf, hoping you might have overlooked it. Overwhelmed, you briefly shut your eyes.

Flashes of that rainy night when Joel appeared at your door – bruised and bleeding – much like the night you first met him, flicker through your mind like scenes from a film. You remember the press of his chest against yours, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. Yeah, I do.

If anyone knows how to find something hard to get, it's Joel. 

Time to see if he can make good on his promise. 

++++

“Absolutely fuckin’ not,” he rasps, his voice heavy with finality.

“Joel, please,” you plead, kicking the heel of your boot into the ground and crossing your arms over your chest.

He stands before you, a formidable presence, hands planted on his hips, one knee angled slightly out. God, he's infuriatingly handsome when he's angry. Though you hate to admit it, there's something irresistibly alluring about his fury—the rigid set of his jaw, the pronounced vein pulsing at his neck, and even his lips, pressed into a thin line of displeasure, somehow draw you in. His brow is deeply creased with frustration.

You lock eyes with him, engaging in a silent battle of wills as people pass by, careful not to draw attention. He waits until the bar door swings shut behind you before he speaks again.

“No,” he growls, the word hanging between you for a tense moment before he turns to walk away. 

You hurry to keep pace with him, your steps quick and double-time to match each of his long strides.

"Jesus, Joel, it’s not like I’m asking you to commit mur–" Before you can finish, he grabs your arm and pulls you off into a back alley, away from prying eyes. Suddenly, he's got you pinned against the cool brick wall, his presence so close you can practically feel the heat radiating from him. His skin is a golden tan, kissed by the spring sun, and his jacket carries a heavy scent of fire smoke that envelops you. 

Fuck, he’s intense. 

"Why do you want to go outside the gate, anyway, huh?" he questions, his eyes probing yours intently. "It’s dangerous out there."

“You think I don’t know it’s dangerous?” you scoff, irritation flashing in your voice. “Of course I know. Why else would I come to you?” I’ve seen you come back bloody, bruised, and broken, and you’re still here. 

“That didn’t answer my question, Doc,” he counters, his presence still imposing as he keeps you pinned against the wall.

“I–I need a medication we don’t have here, and I thought maybe a pharmacy out there might still have it.”

He remains silent, eyes locked on yours, searching for any sign of falter in your resolve.

“What kind of medication?” he digs deeper.

“Abortion medication,” you sigh, gluing your gaze to the ground, avoiding his. He recoils slightly, the weight of the word hanging between you. You can almost see the gears turning in his head. There’s a long pause, before the question he doesn’t want the answer to slips from his lip. 

“You’re pregnant?” he asks, wrestling with the grim realities of life outside—and sometimes inside—the walls of the QZ. He can’t shove down the questions bouncing from corner to corner in his mind. Who’s the father? Was it consensual? Why is he so angry?  

“What? Me? God no,” you scoff. You don’t miss the way his shoulders fall from his ears, apparently relieved. “It’s for a patient of mine. I can’t tell you who, but I can tell you that she’s desperate.” 

You step closer, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the worn fabric of his plaid shirt under your palm. You notice stains of crimson set into the cloth, despite the scent of laundry soap. Who’s blood it is you try not to wonder. 

“You did say you owed me one,” you remind him, looking up to catch his gaze, which has softened slightly, his brow knit with concern.

"Fine," he admits reluctantly, his voice tinged with resignation. He turns away quickly, stepping out into the dim light of the alley before he can second-guess his decision.

++++

As the sky begins to darken, tinting the horizon with shades of deep blue and purple, Joel meets you at your apartment just before curfew sets in. He leans against the doorframe, his expression troubled. "You sure about this?" he asks, hoping you might have changed your mind from this morning. 

You nod, trying to sound more confident than you feel. "It'll be fine," you assure him, though his doubtful look suggests he isn't convinced. There’s an acidic fear low in his gut, the weight of keeping you safe heavy on his shoulders. 

You slip quietly through the alleys, avoiding the main routes to evade the guards and the two somehow still working surveillance cameras. 

Once outside the gate, hidden by the fading light, Joel sets some ground rules.

"Listen, if I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide," he instructs firmly, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. "We're here for one thing only—no funny business." He looks so good like this, bathed in the moonlight, all stern stoicism. 

He draws a handgun from behind his back, checks the safety, and then holds it out to you with the handle facing you.

“Think you can handle this?” You nod hesitantly; you're familiar with a gun, though the last time you fired one was during your harrowing journey to the QZ—a memory you desperately try to keep buried. 

"Look, Doc. ‘M not gonna sugarcoat it—it's rough out here. ‘M gonna do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I need you to have this, just in case something happens to me," he explains. You think you see it then, hidden in his expression, the softness of his brown eyes  – his affection for you. 

You accept the handgun from him and trail your fingers over the intricate designs on the handle. It’s heavy, the barrel long and the grip smooth, you think it might be one of his favorites. Heat rises to your chest at the thought, and you shove it down as you slide the weapon into the waistband of your jeans. 

You give him a firm nod, mustering as much confidence as you can manage. 

“I trust you, Joel. Let’s go,” you say, your shoulder brushing his forearm as you step further into the unpredictable. 

Throughout the night, as you make your way deeper into the territory reclaimed by nature, the atmosphere between you two shifts and lightens.

You mostly walk in silence, on Joel’s orders. By dawn, you've reached an area where the city's crumbling remains are overtaken by nature. With more light, he seems to have relaxed a little bit.

“Did you have a place you used to go, just to escape it all?” he asks, catching you off guard. Your eyes scan the horizon as you think of your response. It doesn’t take you long. 

“Yeah, there was this little bookstore near my apartment. Quiet, cozy. I'd lose hours in there. How about you?” “A park bench by the river. I’d go there to think, or just watch the water flow by.” “Didn’t really take you for the meditation type,” you smile, warmth spread on your cheeks at the thought of big, bad Joel Miller sitting on a park bench by the river. Maybe even feeding the ducks. 

“‘M not, but I figured it sounded better than the real answer,” he looks over his shoulder, eyes scanning the perimeter of your surroundings. 

“Alright, consider me hooked. What’s the real answer then?” you ask. 

“Home Depot,” he answers, voice level. 

You laugh.  

“What? Not a fan of Home Depot?” he looks back at you, the corners of his lips lifting to an almost smile. 

“Never really had a reason to go much, but uh – I think it smelled good. Especially near the lumber section, something about the smell of wood. My grandfather used to take me –” you trail off as you see a particularly vibrant patch of flowers through a clearing. 

Excitement bubbles up inside you, and you can't help but rush towards them. "Hang on a sec!" you call out to Joel, who sighs but follows reluctantly, still keeping an eye out for any threats.

"They're gorgeous," you exclaim, bending down to examine the flowers more closely.

Joel watches you, a slight smile playing on his lips as he agrees, "Yeah, they are." But his gaze stays fixed on you, not the flowers. You don’t notice. 

"Can we grab some? I want to press them," you ask, gazing up at him with your biggest pleasepleaseplease eyes. Initially hesitant, Joel nods, standing guard with his rifle slung over his shoulder while you immerse yourself in the floral wonder.  “Alright, but let’s make it quick, don’t want to burn any daylight by dilly-dallying,” he says. 

You make your way through the field and lift your arms to the sky as if to say hello to the clouds, before doing a little twirl of excitement.  

It's a beautiful spring day, albeit windy. As you lean in to smell more of the flowers, a sudden gust sweeps across the field, lifting a cloud of pollen into the air. It sparkles in the sunlight, swirling around you like a shower of gold dust, ethereal and shimmering. For a moment, the world seems enchanted, and Joel can't help but watch, captivated by your beauty and wonder amidst the sparkling air.

“Oh come on, Miller. Didn’t anyone ever tell you to stop and smell the roses?” You tease, the tips of your fingertips dancing over the tops of the flowers. 

You stop short of the middle of the field, attention captured by a patch of flowers you’ve never seen before.

Joel catches up and crouches next to you, curiosity lighting up his usually firm features. "What did you find?" he asks, peering at the cluster in front of you.

"It's bizarre, isn't it?" you say, tracing the delicate petals with your finger. The flowers are vibrant, almost luminescent, with a pattern that doesn't resemble anything you've seen before. The petals are a deep violet at the base, transitioning to a glowing teal at the tips, and the centers are dotted with tiny, sparkling flecks.

Initially, you think about just leaving the flower there, figuring the memory would be enough. But then you think, why not take one? It’s the end of the world, after all. Might as well enjoy a bit of its beauty. 

You pull out a small knife from your pack with the idea of pressing the flower into a bookmark. You reach out to cut the stem, but as you do, a nasty thorn dislodges and embeds itself into your finger. 

“Shit, ouch!” You cry out, shaking your hand in pain, causing Joel to turn his attention back to you. Was he…smelling the flowers? 

“What’s wrong? You okay?” he asks, his eyes instinctively scanning over your exposed skin. “Fine, the flower just uh….bit me?” you reply, trying to make light of it.

He sighs in relief.

"Better the flower than a clicker," Joel quips, moving closer to examine your finger. He notices that the thorn, nearly translucent, is embedded deeply, its core a swirling mass of the same deep violet as the mysterious flowers. He squints, bringing your finger closer to his eyes, and for a moment, he could swear he sees it pulsing in your skin. Without warning, he brings your finger to his mouth. Using the tip of his teeth with surprising gentleness, he clamps onto the embedded thorn. With a quick tug, he frees it, spitting it onto the ground. As he does, he notices a drop of blood pooling on your fingertip. Without hesitation, he brings your finger back to his mouth and sucks gently at the wound. 

The unexpected intimacy of it sends a spark right to your core—arousing and confusing in equal measure.

Joel looks at you, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "All better, Darlin’.” He plants a small kiss on your fingertip and drops your hand. 

You’re speechless. All you can do is mutter thank you and hope he doesn’t think you’re being awkward.

As you and Joel continue your trek through the expansive field, the breeze begins to intensify, carrying with it a heavy swirl of pollen from the myriad of flowers surrounding you. The air fills with vibrant particles, shimmering like tiny, floating jewels in the sunlight. With each breath, the world starts to shift subtly around you.

The colors of the field become unnaturally vivid, each blade of grass a sharp, electric green, and the sky a deep, pulsating blue. The flowers seem to breathe along with you, their petals undulating in slow, hypnotic rhythms. The sounds of birds amplify and distort; the rustling of leaves turns into a soft symphony, and your footsteps resonate like deep drumbeats against the earth.

As you walk, reality bends. The ground beneath your feet feels softer, almost spongy, and the horizon appears to melt into the sky. Everything is connected by a thread of radiant energy that you can almost see, a web of life pulsating in unison.

Joel's voice comes to you as if from a distance, warped and echoing. You turn to look at him and his features seem to blur and sharpen intermittently, as if your eyes can't decide how to see him properly. The familiar becomes alien, and time feels like it's stretching, moments lingering longer than they should.

“Hey, uh – Doc?” He asks, and all you can respond with is a small hmm.

“Do you, uh…feel a little funny?” He stops in front of you, and walks closer, suddenly coming into your line of vision. 

The scarlet haze in your vision begins to dissipate, your attention now solely on Joel. He stands there, illuminated by the soft glow of the sun, his figure sharp against the light. Joel appears almost ethereal, a stark silhouette carved from the backdrop of the broken world around you.

His eyes, deep and expressive, hold yours with an intensity that seems magnified by the surreal experience. They flicker with shades of amber, and a softness that makes your muscles feel like goo. His hair, tousled by the wind, frames his face with a wild, untamed look that adds to the raw, rugged nature of his features.

His face is marked by the trials of the world you both navigate—scratches, a bruise near his temple that is just beginning to fade, a scar on the side of his neck. Yet, despite the harshness, there's a gentleness in his jawline, in the way his lips curve into a half-smile as he sees you regaining focus.

Joel's build, strong and sturdy, reassures you of safety in his presence. His shoulders are broad, set in a posture that’s relaxed yet ready, mirroring his ever-vigilant nature. His hands, rough and calloused, hang by his sides, but even they seem to express a readiness to comfort or defend as needed.

As you stand there, all else fades into the periphery—there's only Joel. 

There’s only ever been Joel. 

And right now you couldn’t need him more. 

In your delusion, it hits you—you’ve seen that flower before. It was in a book about medicinal plants you'd been reading to learn about natural remedies. 

The details are fuzzy, like trying to remember a dream, but one thing stands out clearly: a stark warning at the bottom of the page.

"Warning: The sap and pollen of this flower are known to cause extreme hallucinations and may cause intense arousal."

The words dance in your mind, sharp like diamonds. 

Shit. 

“Joel?” 

“Yeah, baby?” 

Oh fuck, that’s new. 

“I think we need to find a place to lay down.” 

Part 2

A/N Continued: Thank you so much for reading! Like most writers, I do have a praise kink. If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I'll not only love you forever, but it keeps me motivated to keep creating.

Tagging some moots for visibility (lmk if you want to be removed -- no hard feelings!) @endlessthxxghts @syd-djarin @auteurdelabre @morning-star-joy @theoasisofthings @chulopascal @yxtkiwiyxt @milly-louise @secretelephanttattoo @sawymredfox @xdaddysprincessxx @burntheedges @punkshort @pedrostories @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @joeldjarin @paleidiot @darkheartgatita @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @morgaussy

#joel miller smut #joel miler x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #sex pollen #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedrostories #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #jettsflora&faunachallenge

[endlessthxxghts]

What You Need

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k

Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.

Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned)  if i missed anything, lmk pls!

Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.

MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you. 

You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee. 

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it. 

You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now. 

It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket. 

Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?

It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you. 

It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up. 

You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?” 

“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” 

You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you. 

The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you. 

Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.” 

“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”

“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”

Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.” 

After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day. 

He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?” 

“Mhm, please.” 

“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone. 

You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you? 

Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door. 

Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first: 

“Safe words. Repeat em’.” 

“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.” 

“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.” 

You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two. 

He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?” 

Silence. 

He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”

“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out. 

“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”

Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.” 

Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman. 

Like I taught ya last week, hm?

His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors. 

You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”

“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”

You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal. 

He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it. 

He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet. 

All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod. 

“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”

And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away. 

“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”

You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”

His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible. 

So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach. 

Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit. 

You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to. 

You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible. 

“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him. 

You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient. 

He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”

You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”

Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.” 

He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only. 

The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here. 

“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”

You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.

“Color, baby?”

“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.

He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”

You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength. 

He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him. 

So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out. 

Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”

And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”

Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”

You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb. 

He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.

Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down. 

Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down. 

“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”

Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”

He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek. 

You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala. 

Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs. 

He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat. 

If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place. 

He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan. 

He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you. 

He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit. 

Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy. 

He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves. 

You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee? 

Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt. 

His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?” 

You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.” 

“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator. 

You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on. 

You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing. 

Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you. 

He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms. 

He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices. 

“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do. 

You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his. 

“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?” 

“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance. 

He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way. 

He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard. 

He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear. 

“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans. 

“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here. 

“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you. 

“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.” 

He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging. 

“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight. 

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you. 

“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more. 

With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you. 

It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk. 

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release. 

“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets. 

Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort. 

You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you. 

The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-” 

He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs. 

“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.

“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe. 

He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-” 

It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss. 

His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”

Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.” 

The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high. 

You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need. 

As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly. 

“Darlin’...” 

You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?” 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”

Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.

As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.

Much love to everyone! <3

.

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou smut #smut #Joel miller fluff #Joel miller one shot #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #endless thoughts fics

[summerssover]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 ⊹ ִֶָ ❲ 𝘴𝘶𝘣!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭❳

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘, in which matt and chris tag along with you and nick to go shopping but matt can’t take his eyes off you.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, sub!matt x dom!reader, matt x bfb!reader, matt x poc!reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒, suggestive content not really smut, language, kissing, dry humping

part 2!

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙨!

HEY LOVES sooo i went a lil mia sorry school started kicking my ass after spring break but i’m back active. YALL THAT PIC OF MATT AT THE TOP GOT ME FOAMING AT THE MOUTH LIKE WHY DOES HIS FACE LOOK LIKE A CHAIR😝 that’s my man yall, him and his fine ass brother trust!!!!

comment to be on taglist!!! (if your not on my taglist what the fuck are you doing ho go be somebody and join my taglist)

▐ ❝ 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 ❞

˚𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

you and nick you were looking for outfits to wear to a function you and the triplets were invited to on such short notice. nick forced you to ask matt to take you guys since ‘he would never tell you no’, and chris didn’t want to be alone which resulted in a field trip to the mall.

you would waltz around a variety of stores and boutiques, turning around to the boys to get their opinions on the clothing. the oldest and youngest brothers gave you genuine feedback, thinking about the vibe for the night and the possible outfit malfunction while matt could care less about what you wore.

okay maybe that was a lie, he was surely to loose his shit if it was something he disagreed with but his mind was so fogged with the way your clothes hugged your body that he was completely zoned out and he wasn’t fooling anyone.

you snap your fingers in front of matt to bring him out of the sort of daze he was in. “matt, where’s your head at baby?”

your words went straight to his dick. it wasn’t unusual for you to call him or anyone for that matter, baby. it was in your daily vocabulary, you just used it as a filler name for when you didn’t feel like using a person’s name. you never really meant anything by it and matt knew that but he would always let it get to him and he could feel his knees go wobbly now. “oh yeah, just so tired. what were you saying?”

nick was the main one to notice. like when you guys were walking from store to store, matt would be watching your ass while it jiggled with each step you took. he was in the process of licking his lips before nick gave his shoulder a shove. “could you have some fucking class, oh my god”

he rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing wether to feel embarrassed that he was caught staring at you by your best friend or ashamed by the fact that he was low key disrespecting you, literally undressing you with his eyes, not his proudest moment.

“can you even blame the kid?” chris laughed and nodded his head at matt then going to dap him up letting his brother know they had the same thing in mind.

nick rolled his eyes, “yall are insane”.

you weren’t too far ahead so you heard the whole interaction and to say you were flattered was an understatement. you’ve been plotting on matt for some time now, he’s always been so fine to you and he’d probably be yours by now if he wasn’t related to nick.

typical for you, looking for a quick outfit turned and to a shopping spree and you definitely over did it with the victoria’s secret stop but it was going to be so worth it later.

as of now everyone was getting ready in their rooms while you were making your way to matt’s with all your bags in hand. you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing but it’s was too late now. your fist connected with the door, knocking a good three times.

heavy feet could be heard getting closer to the door before revealing matt, topless with dark washed jeans on. his hair was damp and the stubble neatly dancing around his face, defining his jawline. his eyes were low and kinda glossy and his room smelt like a mixture of cologne and herb, it was a comforting smell.

looking up to him with your best pleading eyes, “matt could you help me pick an outfit?” he couldn’t bring himself to respond. he only widened the door allowing you to come him, not missing the chance to glance at your ass while he welcomed you into his room.

you plopped down on his bed and he followed after you.

“i narrowed it down to two choices but they both look so good and i need a second opinion”

matt paused for a moment trying to grasp what was happening right now but his mind was still blank so he just went along with it.

“sure”

“great, you wanna’ turn around for me” you shifted to look matt in his eyes, searching for how is body reacts at her choice of words. he went wide and furrowed his brows, he was either flustered or confused, you just hoped you weren’t making him uncomfortable.

“oh in here, yeah yeah” matt stumbled over his words like a damn fool as he turned his back to face you. he’d finally have the girl he fantasized about in his room, undressing in his presence and he was selling so bad right now.

“okay, you can look now”

his mouth drops to the floor at an instant once the first outfit decorated your body. matt thought he really must not have paid an ounce of attention at the mall because he definitely didn’t see you pick this up and did not want you to wear it anywhere but this room.

you made your way over to his body length mirror to adjust all the fabric in all the right places. you called matt who was now cross the room, staring at you.

“matt will you come tighten these straps for me?”

matt sprung up from the bed and over to you. his taller body now stood close behind yours and gazed at you through the mirror as patiently you waited for him to nap back into reality.

“sorry, tighten what?”

“the straps of the top part, just pull them up for me baby” there sat a sly grin on your lips. you were having so much fun seeing him be so infatuated with you, like your were some sort of goddess. the only thing on your mind was his face buried between your legs, maintaining eye contact the whole time because he was too pretty not to. your pussy got even wetter just thinking about it, you needed him now.

as matt’s large hands went to your back, a set of chill went through spin. he took his sweet time adjusting the straps of your top only so he could look at you some more, up close and personal. you weren’t wearing your pasties, allowing your hardened nipples to be one display and due to your thick thighs the slit in the skirt appeared higher than intended but sat perfectly on your waist. he heard you let out a chuckle, making his eyes shoot back to your face.

“what’d you think”

you admired yourself in the mirror and ran your manicured hands all over your chest, stomach, thighs, then ass. the back of your hands had brushed over the tent in matt’s pants, bringing a groan from his lips.

looking back up to his eyes, only to find the he was already staring at you with hunger and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. it was like his body had a mind of its own. hands just twitching to be connected with your skin.

“you can touch, i don’t mind”

you said in your most inviting voice and brought his hand low on your waist. “the material is a little cheap right?”

matt didn’t even hear what you had said his hands traveled from waist to your thighs but before they could go from your thighs to your ass he stopped himself.

“fuck, sorry i shouldn’t touch you like that, im so sorry” he backed away feeling like a fucking creep, he couldn’t believe that he just let his wants take over him so easily, probably making you feel so uncomfortable.

“no baby, you’re good”

you pulled him behind you this time his chest connecting with your body, then placing his hands back to your waist where they belonged. “i never told you to stop...”

matt’s breathe hitched. he didn’t know where this was coming from but he loved every bit of it and now that he knew for sure that this is what you wanted he wasn’t passing the opportunity up. matt’s hands began to resume roaming around your clothed body as you gazed at each other.

“what do you like about it baby?”

he didn’t even have to think, everything just spilled out. “i really like the slit, makes your legs look nice” he rubbed up and down your inner thigh. “the gold buttons are nice too, i think gold compliments your skin really well” he began to undo each button on your corset until it fell off your body, showcasing your tits to him, his eyes widening at the piercings through your nipples, that was new. “i love all the detail, you look gorgeous” his hands glide up stomach, across your boobs, pulling them up with his hands and plopping them back in their position, then all the up to your neck with your head following to fully look up at him.

matt immediately smashed his lips into yours, starting the act of a heated make out session. he kissed you slowly and passionately, every kiss could be captured as your mouths moved in sync and only got deeper by the moment. matt lets a moan at the feeling of you pressing on his dick and before his hands falls to your hips, turning you to face him and lifting you up.

your wrapped your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck, pulling him back into the sensual kiss. your skirt was now bunched around the waist leaving matt’s hands to rest on your bare ass cheeks and nothing but a black thong keeping you from being completely exposed.

you and matt were currently on his bed with you straddling him as he littered hickeys throughout your neck and you grinned your hips together, both of you moaning and humming at the feeling.

a loud dang on the door caused you guys to jump apart, nearly giving you a heart attack.

“we’re ready matt, come on, your gonna’ make us fucking late if you don’t get your ass out of that room right now, have you seen y/n/n anywhere by the way” nick scolded to his brother, continuing to bang on his door.

matt cursed nick out in his head, biggest cockblocker goes to this bitch. “nah, i haven’t seen her, i’ll be out in a second though”

“no, you can jack off to y/n later, you sound like you’ve just ran a fucking 5k. we need you in the car now” nick dragged out the last part and you tried to cover your mouth, hiding your laugh at the fact that nick was on matt’s ass per usual.

he huffed and rolled his eyes, “shut the fuck up i’ll be out when im ready”

“kay well i’m not leaving till you are”

you and matt turned to each other for what to do next, neither of you knew, but nick was literally going to break the door down and there wasn’t any other way out of the room. you sighed to yourself. you were going to have to walk out of the room in front of your best friend with a hickey covered neck.

“do you have a scarf?” your hopeful eyes beamed up matt as you harshly talked under your breath.

matt threw his hands in the air, responding in a similar tone. “does it look like i own a scarf?”

“are you not from literal boston?”

matt started to get frustrated at the whole situation. all he wanted to do was blow your back out in the comfort of his own room and he can’t even do that. cupping his forehead, matt exclaimed, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“well i don’t see you coming up with any ideas, we can’t just sit here all day like dumbasses” you got up from matt’s bed to retrieve your top from the floor. getting up as well, matt followed on your trail.

“i’m just gonna’ go out, it is what it is”

he let out another huff, feeling kinda bad for not being able to help you in this tricky situation. nick was never really the type of sibling to emphasize an all mighty rule of his siblings being off limits but it just felt wrong to not bring it up prior to events as this one. matt watched as you place your hand on the doorknob and grabbed you by the waist before you could twist the handle. “hey, i’ll make it up to you later alright?”

you looked at him for a moment before your tough exterior started to form into a small smile, he seemed genuine enough.

“yes you will”

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩!- @worldlxvlys @ariieeesworld @muwapsturniolo @esioleren @sturn59 @maryx2xx @junnniiieee07 @iluvmattyb @kriissy4gov (comment to be in the taglist!!!)

#˖ ࣪ 🥭⋆˚࿔ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x black reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #black writers #x black reader #summersover #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut

[abigolemess]

hobie x reader where they’re smoking a blunt (maybe with some sexy shotgunning) and it gets really nsfw really fast

YES. YES. AND YES, ANON. also I'm shit with trying to get Hobie's speech down. especially since I'm not British lol. I hope u enjoy!

P.S. its finally here ya'll >:)

Warnings/tags: hella smut, p in v, protected sex, overstim, edging, degradation, praise, drug use, a lil rough, porn without plot for sure. Let me know if I missed any!

Word count: 1K

"Pass it here, love?"

You were making dinner at your apartment when Hobie texted you to see if you were busy. He hadn't seen you in a while as you both were busy, and he wanted you to come to his place. Missing him as well, you made him a plate and headed to him. And now you are both on his couch passing your second blunt back and forth.

You turned to Hobie to see his red eyes scanning your body. His lids were being weighed down as if there were something heavy pulling on them. You passed him the blunt without breaking eye contact. You couldn't. Hobie's brown pupils were too mesmerizing. But you didn't want to look away anyways.

Hobie took a drag of the blunt without looking away. Gently, he grabbed your face and brought it close to his, forcing your mouth in an "o" shape. He exhaled the smoke slowly into your mouth before finally pulling your lips to his. You exhaled the smoke into his face after his lips left yours. A smirk appeared on his face.

"Good girl. C'mere."

Hobie pulled you onto his lap. You could feel his bulge straining through his jeans.  "Y'feel that?" You nod as Hobie gets closer to your ear. "Wanna do somethin' about it?" You nod again. "Use your words, babes." You start to grind against him, breathing heavy. You earned a deep groan in your ear right before Hobie grabbed your hips to stop you. "Whaddya want?" he asked, his voice dripping with lust.

"Please, Hobie." His tight grip didn't allow you to have the friction you so desperately craved.

"Please, what, love? Do ya even know what your beggin for?" Hobie continued to tease you.

"Please give me your cock, Hobs. I need it," you whimpered. Hobie decided to stop toying with you and give you what you desperately needed, mostly because he couldn't wait either. Hobie lifted you up and carried you to his bedroom. After placing you on his bed, he grabbed a condom from his nightstand and pulled his pants and underwear off, freeing his cock. It was hard and ready, precum dripping from the tip. He quickly put the condom on.

"Gonna keep your clothes on for this next part o' what?" Hobie teased. You quickly stripped yourself. Hobie stood towards you and leaned over you. Sometimes you forgot about his height, but right now, his frame was engulfing you. His cold, slender fingers caressed your pussy lips slowly but with enough pressure to cause you to moan. You were practically dripping and you couldn't stand the teasing any longer. "Hobie please," you pleaded.

"This f'me? You're so wet 'n soft, love." Hobie inserted two of his fingers slowly inside of your sopping pussy, curling his fingers up to hit that gummy spot. You mewled in response and Hobie smiled. "Mmm… love those sounds you make, babe." Your pussy grabbed his fingers after those devilish words. "Feels good, innit? Y'want more?"

"Yes Hobie, more, please," You began to grind your hips. Hobie got the hint and began to speed up his movements.

You were oh-so-close when Hobie's fingers suddenly went missing. A confused whimper escaped your mouth. Hobie spoke with a deep, raspy voice. "Sorry, love," he says standing up straight, "I just can't wait any longer." Hobie grabbed your thighs and held them apart. He began rubbing his cock up and down your pussy, covering him in your slick. "This is what you really want, right?" After you nodded profusely, Hobie shook his head. "You know the rules, love. Use. Your. Words." "Yes Hobie, I want it so bad." "Good girl," Hobie said as he readied at your entrance.

Hobie began to slide in slowly, easing his cock into you. It stretched you in a good way, and you moaned from the tip all the way to the base. "Fuck yes, love those fucking sounds." he hissed as you squeezed around him. Hobie's thrusts were agonizingly slow. He know how badly you wanted to cum, but he can't help but tease you. He chuckled at your pained expression. "What's the problem, love? Want me to go faster?" A sly smile painted his face. He loved hearing you say what you want, especially because of your shyness. Your growing need cuts through your humility.

"Please fuck me faster, Hobie," You responded. Hobie's smile grew. He leaned forward, slowly, getting closer to your face. As he leaned, he somehow buried deeper into your hole. "Such a good fuckin' slut," he said before kissing your wet lips. He's thrusts increased in speed; cock rubbing over that sensitive spot just how you wanted it to. You arched into Hobie as your orgasm drew near. "Oi," he grunted, "tell me how my cock feels so deep inside, yeah?" You muttered out your pleasure. "Feels good, baby, so fuckin' good." Hobie hummed in your ear. The vibrations of his voice kept putting a warmth in your belly.

Hobie used his right hand and pushed down on your tummy, the spot where his dick makes an appearance. "Fuck!" "Oh, wow, you're usin' a lot of profanities, babe. Gonna cum, f'me?" Hobie's words pushed you over the edge. "Yes, I'm coming!" you screamed as your legs shook. Despite you reaching your peak, Hobie kept fucking you fast and deep. The overwhelming pleasure caused you to try to close your legs but Hobie's body was in the way. "Nuh uh, darling. You begged for this, 'member?" You whined. "I can't Hobie, can't take it," you cried. Hobie started going even faster, bringing you both close to cumming. "C'mon, babe, be a good whore and cum again f'me." Hobie moved his hand from your stomach lower until he reached your clit. Your eyes widened in anticipation, already knowing what comes next. Hobie began to rub your clit in circles, causing your orgasm to explode immediately.

"Good fucking girl," Hobie moaned as you pulsed around him, causing him to cum as well. You both panted as you came down from your highs. Hobie pulled out and laid down next to you. He pulled you to him and he kissed your forehead as you wrapped yourself around him. "You did so well f'me, love. Maybe we should smoke together more often."

"We definitely should."

"Well, we never finished the blunt from earlier. Wanna do it again?" You smiled at Hobie, and he smiled back, knowing what you smile meant.

"Let me go get the lighter."

#smut #hobie brown #abigolemess #hobie brown smut #spiderman atsv #spiderverse #this is filth #still working on the other requests #sorry this took so long #dom!hobie brown #black fem!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x black fem!reader

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Caught VI ~

Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader

[masterlist][last part]

This is gonna be Christmas centered(gift giving and such)even though it’s almost Halloween😭🤷‍♀️thought it was cute.

I’m sorry if this is a bit long, I’m tryna get in some real plot with this chapter🤞🥰

Warnings: A Lil Angst(in the beginning), VeryFluffy,SweetSmut,Unprotected PinV, DaddyKink. Sex Toys Mentioned&Alludes to Bondage(future pt😉)

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Mattheo asked in a hushed whisper as you pushed the heavy door of your manor’s library shut behind you both.

“I’m the only one who ever comes in here, they won’t even hear us talking all the way in the back.” You sighed out, the ball had just ended and your father had unsurprisingly pulled your mother into his study, likely to “brief” her on his plans.

“I know I should have told you ages ago and it was wrong of me to keep it from you….and all of our friends. But I just couldn’t, I couldn’t even form the words to tell you he was a Death Eater, let alone what he’s been planning since….he went into hiding.” Mattheo listened to your hushed words intently, wincing slightly at your mention of his father as you led him to a small leather loveseat in the far back corner of the large, dusty library.

“I knew I’d tell you eventually….I guess I just got so caught up in everything else that I never decided to try. Or maybe I was just too scared you’d never talk to me again. Honestly I don’t know.” You shook your head as you sat on the cold leather, Mattheo remained hovering, standing in front of you as you avoided his eyes.

“I had a half-brother, Will. He died before I was born in the First Wizarding War. My dad tried to run with his first wife, so his wife and son were killed. He married my mom for the money that marrying into my grandfather’s family promised, and then had me to make sure he got the inheritance.” You didn’t notice when you started crying or when Mattheo joined you on the seat to comfort you. The story was clear in your mind as though it happened to you, you grew up under your fathers hatred, and knew every small detail of his obsession.

Your father was one of very few people who knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Dark Lord did not die on Halloween of ‘81, and when he inevitably came back to power almost 3 years ago, it all was meant to fall into action. Your father played the dutiful follower as he weaseled his way into his inner circle. Your mother was to play the innocent housewife as she absorbed all information from the wives and husbands of the other Death Eaters. And you….you were to get their children to tell you anything they knew of their parents assignments. However, you threw a wrench in that plan before it even began, you’d never hurt your friends, and once you started dating Mattheo it was solidified.

And your father hated you for it.

It only took one year at Hogwarts for your love of your friends to overpower your love for your father. You fed him lies and misinformation or avoided home all together, but somehow could never come out and tell your friends why you introduced yourself to them in the first place. By the time you realized you should have, they were your new family, you couldn’t imagine them turning around and hating you just because of this mistake. So whether consciously or not you weren’t sure, but you hid it, for almost 6 years, you hid it. Even as your father approached his goal, even knowing all of their families would be caught in the crossfire when he succeeded.

“You don’t need to tell me it all tonight,” Mattheo whispered in a small voice nothing like his usual cocky tone. Your bloodshot eyes met his in a pleading look as you tried to speak.

“No I do, I….I should have told you years ago, I should have told all of you years ago.” Mattheo was a smart person, he’d already guessed what your role in this was, and considering him and his father were still very much alive, he also guessed you didn’t quite play the role you were given correctly. Despite the pit in his stomach about what he’s going to have to do to protect you, he was soaring over your loyalty. The fact that you were here in front of him, and not in your fathers study, had his heart hammering in his chest. If he hadn’t already planned to marry you, he certainly would have decided to right here.

“No Gorgeous, you really don’t….I think….I think I already know.” He sighed with a soft smile as he took your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning you to look at him with your bloodshot, teary eyes. Mattheo delicately brought the thumb of his other hand to wipe your tears away, like you were a piece of art he was preserving. His lips followed suit, pampering light kisses down both your cheeks as he whisperered, “It’s okay y/n, I know and I’m still here, I’m always going to be here.”

Your body practically fell into him as you collapsed into sobs of gratitude and relief. Mattheo’s arms wrapped around you as though it was what they were made to do, pulling you into his lap as he settled into the loveseat further. He let you sob into his neck, brushing tangles from your hair with his fingers and speaking softly of your future together in your ear until you were silently breathing deeply and lightly snoring into him.

“You’re safe Baby, you’ll never have to come back here I promise you that.” Mattheo listened to your breathing deepen as you fell into a dreamless sleep in his arms, but continued to speak, “You’re the only part of this world that matters Darling,” He nuzzled his nose into your hair as his eyelids fell, content right here with you, “I will let it all burn just for you my beautiful Angel” He let out a deep sigh as though finally stripping himself of a great burden on his shoulders, “You’re all that matters to me,” His fingers curled into you hair deeper as his hand on your waist pulled your sleeping form in closer in a protective hold.

He stayed holding you for what felt like an eternity while so short at the same time before gently rising with you in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he maneuvered through the dusty bookshelves to the door. He found your room easily, he’d been there before as a child, you and the rest of the boys had spent practically all of Winter, Spring, and Summer Holiday your First Year there. He’d never understood why you’d never invited them again, but now he saw it clearly as a form of protection. Your father likely loved the idea of the sons of all of Voldemorts best followers, and his own son, coming around his manor with their guards down.

It was much different now, the large circular bed in front of the arched window was now covered in shades of red with black pillows instead of the purples he’d remembered from years ago. The vanity directly across the bed was new as well, it’s large mirror sparkled with the reflection of the stars behind the headboard of your bed as he placed you on it. He swore you looked like a princess, the color of your dress clashing with the bed only drawing his attention to you more while he retreated to remove your heels, struggling to unclip them before tossing them aside with a huff of annoyance.

You stirred slightly as he untied the strings on the back of your dress and began softly pulling it down. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it so just draped it across a fuzzy chair in the corner with a shrug before ridding himself of his tie, suit jacket, and pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as he crawled slowly onto the bed behind you, trying his hardest to let you sleep while attempting to get his shirt on over your arms. You woke up only for a second, allowing him to slip you into his shirt as you voiced your annoyance in a few grumbled sentences before slipping back into your dreams, snuggling into his scent and giving him a warm feeling in his chest.

He found it easy to fall into a dreamless sleep, something he was never used to until you were a constant in his life. Under your blankets surrounded by your scent, he felt safe, he felt you were safe, he pulled you into his chest with a content sigh. He’d been waiting weeks to sleep beside you again, and he didn’t plan to be sleeping alone anytime soon.

The next morning Mattheo woke you with kisses to your neck and face, allowing you to adjust to the early morning light before ushering you to get dressed and ready to go. “We’re going back to Hogwarts….or anywhere you want…” Just not here, he thought, wanting more than anything to have you out of this house before your father even realized he planned to.

Repacking your trunk was much faster with Mattheo grabbing things and throwing them in before yanking it up and escorting you out of your own house. Before you recognized what was happening you were being Apparated to right outside the Hogwarts grounds and tugged through a tunnel you had no idea existed.

“Matty what is this?” The tunnel was cramped, barley enough space for the both of you as he guided you around as though he’d been there before.

“It’s a tunnel he made when he went here, not even Harry or the Weasleys know about it so we’ll be safe in here while we get back to the castle.” You didn’t need to ask who he meant by he and you definitely didn’t need to ask why he seemed to know it like the back of his hand.

“Oh” Your voice was small and meek as you started to realize he was keeping things from you too, you didn’t know whether to feel relieved that you weren’t the only one keeping secrets or worried about what he felt was too dangerous to inform you about. You knew he had unavoidable meetings with his father, you knew he had to do things to stay alive and you didn’t blame him, but it hurt you to think about the fact that you’d never really thought about what must be happening.

You’d seen his scars and fresh wounds every month, but he’d always say he had it under control and for some reason you always listened. A part if you wanted to know everything right then, while the other, much larger part, was wishing you’d run away with Mattheo when you had the chance.

After what felt like hours you emerged from behind a statue in a dimly lit corridor somewhere in the dungeons. Mattheo took your hand like it was second nature, allowing your trunk to float along behind him while escorting you to his dorm. The corridors were empty and cold, most of the remaining student body gone on holiday, the castle that used to bring comfort to generations of young witches and wizards, now held a lingering sense of danger, like something wrong was hiding just behind the corner.

And as you watched Mattheo’s focused eyes, clenched jaw, and possessive hand, you thought there just might be.

~~~~

Christmas at Hogwarts was always worth looking forward to, it gave even the most damaged of us a chance to let loose. But as you looked around the Slytherin Common room, realizing it was almost midnight on December 24th and not a single person seemed to care, you decided that just for the next 24 hours, there wasn’t a single thing wrong. You would tell everyone the truth on the 26th and everything would be okay. You were sure of it.

Even if it was just you and Mattheo, you were celebrating Christmas like you did every year. Huddled up in the boys dorm, drinking spiked hot chocolate, fighting over the best Christmas songs, and giving each other presents.

Mattheo wasn’t shocked to see you sauntering through his door with a bottle of firewhiskey and wrapped boxes as you had for the past 5 years. His heart sank slightly as he watched your eyes swivel around the un-decorated and empty dorm room.

“Wh-,” They had decorated their dorm room every year, at first it started with you bringing them little ornaments from a village by your manor your first Christmas together. By your second Christmas, Mattheo took it upon himself to buy a miniature Christmas tree. A memory you could never forget, a chilly December evening organizing only 5 ornaments along it. Arguing slightly all the way until Mattheo told the boys to just listen to you. It was one of the first moments you even realized you liked the curly headed boy.

From that year on, every member of the friend group was ensured to get at least one gift, a new ornament for the dorm tree. Which was still stuffed in it’s box under Mattheo’s nightstand. Mattheo followed your eyes to it and sighed, “I’m sorry Baby, I completely forgot to decorate this year and all the boys got an owl to come home so I did-“

“It’s okay Matty,” You gave him a soft smile as you set your bottle and packages on his bed and took your seat beside them.

“I’ll set it up now and we can decorate it together, Enzo and Blaise left some gifts behind so w-“ He stopped abruptly as you flopped backward further onto his bed with an exaggerated sigh.

“What a shame, all of your dorm mates gone and no way to be caught in the act, the horror,” You giggled slightly as your sarcasm began to settle in his mind and a smile tugged on his lip.

“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love when we’re almost caught, I can feel how you clench around me Princess,” He stalked towards you as he leant himself against the bedposts at the end of the frame, eyeing the way you bit back a laugh and sat yourself up on your elbows.

“Okay Mr. “Scream My Name,” Your voice held an unusual mix of teasing and dominance that Mattheo wasn’t quite used to as you swayed your leg and watched while his tongue subconsciously wet his lips.

“Mmm, don’t tempt me Princess. I wanted to open presents first.” He faked a pout, watching your skirt slide up your moving thigh as your fingers moved to slowly unbutton your shirt.

“Am I not a present fit to be unwrapped Mr.Riddle?” You teased as you licked across you teeth and played at the second button on your shirt. Mattheo groaned from deep in his chest as his head fell backwards, his jaw clenched as he tried to collect himself.

“Baby, I have a plan and if you call me that again you’re gonna miss out. You don’t wanna miss out do you Gorgeous?” His eyes met yours, the dark spark you knew meant he was in control having you bite at your smile and shake your head, still slightly playing with the buttons on your shirt.

“Good girl, now come here,” Mattheo suddenly pushed off the bedposts and motioned for you to follow with a wiggle of two of his fingers.

“I thought I’d have to give these to you late but since you’re here,” Mattheo sighed happily as he pulled out a trunk from under his bed, “Sit on the edge….now.” You were slightly confused but after a second followed his orders, swaying your feet and waiting patiently as he unlocked the trunk with two loud clicks.

“Your first set,” You narrowed your eyes at him as he set two neatly wrapped black boxes beside you, both tied with a red bow. “First….set?” Mattheo only nodded his head with a happy little smile before urging you to open them with his outstretched hands. The first and smallest was expected, a delicate glass snowflake ornament hanging from a silver ribbon.

“Perfect, I can hang it on the tree when it’s set up,” You said happily as you gently set it back in it’s box, “Actually that’s gonna be the first to go on our tree.” Mattheo interjected, making you giggle up at him before realizing he was entirely serious.

“It may collect some dust while I find the perfect cottage for you,” He said with a wave of his hands, “but that’s the first place it’s going, nowhere else”

“Okay Matty, it’s decided,” You laughed as you grabbed at your, significantly less neat, golden wrapped package. Mattheo’s hand dramatically shot to his chest as his mouth dropped open, “For me?” he gasped sarcastically, ripping it from your hands as he opened it.

“Oh fuck Baby, is this the one we saw in Diagon Alley?” Mattheo’s voice was filled with excitement you rarely got to hear as he pulled out the thick silver ring with a snake tangled around the front. He haphazardly shoved it on each of his fingers before ultimately settling on his right pointer finger.

“How does it look Gorgeous?” He held up his pointer and middle finger, letting the others fall beside them as he watched you bite at your lip. “Can’t wait to find out what it’ll look like halfway inside of you…mm” He seemed to be in his own world as he eyed the ring, fitting perfectly with the other two he already wore on that hand, before shaking his head slightly, “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, your turn again.”

You shook your head, blinking rapidly with a shocked smile before reaching for the next box, his eyes lighting up to follow as though he’d just remembered what was hidden behind the wrapping paper. It was was longer and thinner than the last box, opening on a hinge to reveal a golden necklace with a heart shaped ruby dangling in the middle.

“Gods Matty….” You whispered, feeling across the necklace delicately with your fingertips. “It’s beautiful,”

“Can I put it on for you Princess?” Mattheo asked as he crawled on the bed around you, reaching for the necklace before you could answer. Clasping it quickly and leaving a kiss on the base of your neck, whispering with a confident smirk, “It has my initials carved in the middle of the heart.”

You chuckled as you felt at the pendent hanging between your collarbones, grabbing at the next package while Mattheo began kissing up and down the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his breath fanned against your cold skin. You turned in his arms, handing him his hext gift with a smile. “And here’s your ornament,” Mattheo gasped as though he was offended, snatching the package mumbling, “Don’t ruin my surprise Baby,”

“I get you one every year, besides you don’t know what’s on it, now open it,” He huffed while ripping at the messily placed tape, halting slightly, staring down at a handmade ornament in the shape of a gingerbread house. A moving picture of you and him from almost two years ago sat where the door would have been, a picture that was taken only days after he realized he was madly in love with you, something he wasn’t sure you knew. Making it ten times better.

“I’ve changed my mind, your snowflake will be the second ornament on our tree.” His gaze met yours as a smile grew on his face, laughing while gently placing it into it’s box and leaning back to set it on his nightstand. “I wanna open my last one before you get more.”

Mattheo’s voice was stern and matter of factly, taking his last present from beside you as you nervously chewed the insides of your cheek. He wasted no time ripping into it, looking between you and the box as his brows bunched together, delicately pulling out a silk red tie, “Now, no offense Darling, but red isn’t really my color,”

“No….but it is mine.” Mattheo watched as you bit your lip before looking back at the box, realization settling in as he clutched the tie hard in his hand, closing his eyes as he groaned slightly.

“You know they say great minds think alike….” He spoke after a second of gathering himself, kissing your cheek before slipping off the bed and reaching back into the trunk, retreating with two larger wrapped boxes.

“This one first,” He all but shoved the box at you, watching you intently as he bounced in front of you. You slowly unwrapped the box, delicately removing each piece of tape as Mattheo narrowed his eyes at you threateningly. “I’m gonna open it myself if you don’t hurry up.”

“Okay okay” You giggled, tearing through the rest of the paper and throwing off the lid of a deep red box. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down at its contents, a black blindfold neatly wrapped around a set of fuzzy handcuffs, a vibrator, and a collar on a chain. Your face burned as you looked up to a now very nervous Mattheo.

“Is it too much? Do you not like the idea? We can just move on to the next one if-“ He rambled as you looked up at him with a smile, reaching into the box as he spoke.

“Is this a remote Mattheo?” You asked teasingly, biting your lip at Mattheo’s sigh of relief from your demeanor. “Hell yeah it is Baby, that’s more for me though,” He was immediately back to his regular cocky self as he snatched the remote and slipped it into his pocket.

“Saved the best for last.” Mattheo sighed, handing you the largest of the four and watching you intently. He knew exactly which would he your favorite, and knew exactly which one to save for last. You smiled brightly up to him as you pulled out the red, loose weight thigh length dress from it’s box.

“Matty! I love it, thank you,” You practically screamed as you jumped up to hug him, laughing as he lifted you up by your waist. He chuckled in your ear, wrapping your legs around him, pulling you back to look at your face.

“Anything for you Gorgeous,” He said breathlessly as he smashed his lips into yours in a passionate kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs while his tongue began exploring your mouth immediately.

“Fucking hell I love you, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me ya know that,” He growled, kissing down your neck, nipping at it aggressively as he mindlessly cleared the bed of presents, papers, and boxes before laying you down softly and crawling up your body to meet your lips again. Mattheo quickly rid himself of his shirt, pulling at yours as you slid your skirt and panties off, Mattheo cursed as he jumped from the bed to shove his sweats and boxers off. Tripping over them in a rush to join you back on the bed, falling on you slightly as you fell into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah yeah whatever, come here,” He huffed, pulling your face in to an aggressive kiss. He nipped at your lips and battled your tongue with his, your teeth knocking together as you breathed heavily into each other’s mouths. His hands trailed slowly down your sides, stopping at your hips to tug you forward, plowing into without warning, a whine of a moan fell from you as Mattheo sighed and fell into you, holding himself up on his forearms as he began softly fucking into you.

Mattheo’s lips trailed along your shoulder, stoping only to moan as you circled your hips to his slow thrusts. Your fingers found themselves tangled his hair, tugging slightly as the others trailed down his toned back with a teasing scratch. He groaned in your ear, picking up his pace only slightly as he rocked his hips into yours. He lifted his head to meet your eyes as you clenched around him, steadying himself with a hand on your hip, increasing his pace further as he watched your head fall back with a moan of appreciation.

Mattheo felt himself twitch inside you as your nails dug into his back and tugged at his hair, he wasn’t gonna last long after not having you for weeks, but he wanted you to come first. He slowed himself down to an agonizingly slow pace as you whined under him, he balanced himself on a hand beside your head as he brushed his free hand from your hip down your thigh before suddenly bringing it to rush fast circles onto your clit. Picking up his pace and falling back into your neck, licking a stripe from the base of your neck to your ear, whisperering against it’s shell as you shivered, “You like that Princess? Do you like being fucked after I spoil you?”

All you could do to respond was nod weakly as he groaned against your bruised neck, “Do you like it when Daddy treats you like a Princess?” For a second Mattheo stalled, as though he didn’t mean to let the name slip, but quickly picked up his pace as you wiggled below him with a whine of “Yes”

He looked down at you with a wild, daring smile as his eyes darkened further, “Yes what?” He growled, thrusting into you harder as you tried to speak, jumbling your words as you began to lose focus.

“Daddy, ye- Oh fuck, Yes Dadd-“ Mattheo cut you off with a wicked smile as he ruthlessly pounded into you, you were shaking with the bed as his thrusts became irregular and his fingers slowed. Your head felt dizzy as you clamped around him, feeling his cum spill inside you sending you over the edge as you screamed his name.

You came together as Mattheo collapsed on top of you. “That’s much better than our past Christmas traditions,” You sighed in a breathless voice as Mattheo’s arms snaked around your naked waist, cuddling you into him while still inside.

“I love you, and I plan to spend every Christmas I have left with you,” Mattheo whispered in a suddenly very serious tone.

~~~~

Caught VII

I hope this Isn’t weird or anything because I absolutely love it🥰🥰

-HP Taglist-

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess

#mattheo riddle x fem!reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #harry potter #harry potter smut #mattheo riddle x reader #smut #hp #fluff #harry potter fandom #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #secret relationship #mattheo riddle fanfic #smut and fluff #fluffy #fluffy smut

[captainfern]

I'm sorry-

But I'd like to request a part 2 to the Heart shaped box

Featuring Ghost as well 👀

Serve The Servants

Captain John Price x fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley

["Serve The Servants" by Nirvana]

[18+]

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

• summary - a disciplinary meeting turns into something you weren’t expecting at all lol. • rating - 18+ [mdni] • wordcount - 5.3k • warnings - fem!reader, threesome [you’re going to paris], unprotected piv, heavy praise, light degradation, oral [m+f!receiving], creampie 😋👍, breeding kink [is that even a surprise with my fics anymore LMAO], lil bit of choking, lil bit of spanking, dacryphilia? idk sounds about right, this is literally porn with no plot, possessive!price and possessive!ghost, strong language

✿ this is a follow-up to "Heart-Shaped Box", but it can be read as a stand-alone ! and don't say sorry, anon— i enjoyed writing this 😈 ✿

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

“I don’t understand why you guys get to go on watch together, and I have to stay here by myself.” You groaned, Soap and Gaz standing in the doorway of the barracks.

“You’re not going to be alone,” Gaz said, a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’ll have Price and Ghost to keep you company.”

You made a face. “They do nothing but babysit me.”

Soap scoffed from the doorway, arms folded across his chest. “You’re the one who’s constantly in trouble.”

“Am not!” You swiped at him, and he laughed, battering your arm away.

“When was the last time either of them scolded you for doing something stupid?” Soap asked.

You went quiet, counting in your head. “Like… yesterday.” You sighed.

Soap pointed at you. “There you go. Go play like, I dunno, checkers with them or something.”

“Checkers?” You blinked.

“I dunno what you get up to in your free time, lass. Sue me.” Soap said with a parting glance, exiting the barracks and into the cool night.

Gaz gave you one last pat on the shoulder, holding his assault rifle to his chest with his other hand.

“We’ll be back in a few hours.” He smiled, before leaving you alone in the main room of the barracks.

You sighed, closing the door and locking it. You decided to just retire to your room for the night, so you pattered down the hall and into your respective room. You slumped down onto your cot, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the outside world.

Then, a loud knock on your door.

It nearly made you jump out of your skin. With the sudden rush of fright calming in your stomach, you opened the door, finding Ghost standing there. Mask on, gloves on, gear on. He looked down at you expectantly.

“What?” You asked, still waiting for him to say something. Anything, really.

“Price wants to see you,” he said finally. “In his office.”

You swallowed. “Am I in trouble?”

Ghost shrugged, walking down the hall in the direction of Price’s office. You rolled your eyes inwardly. Real helpful, thanks Ghost, you thought.

You made your way down the hall as well, walking through the open door of Price’s office. He sat at his desk, relaxing in his leather chair. Behind you, the door closed gently, and you turned to see Ghost standing there. He leaned against it, large arms folded across his chest.

You looked back to Price. “Okay, be honest. Am I in trouble again?”

Price chuckled. “What would you be in trouble for this time?”

“Who knows, but I could probably make an educated guess if you really wanted me too.” You replied, clasping your hands together in front of you.

Price chuckled quietly, getting to his feet. “You’re in a little bit of trouble.”

You cursed. “I knew it. What did I do this time? Playing my music loud? Leaving my dishes in the sink?”

Price shook his head, walking around his desk. He leaned up against the front of it, fingers bracing the edge.

“Well, I heard you fucked your captain.” Price said, still smiling, and an immediate rush of red filled your face.

Your eyes shot back to Ghost, who didn’t seem shocked at all by the information— not that you could overly tell with the mask on, but you just got the vibe.

Your eyes snapped back to Price’s. “Sir—?”

“Denying it, sergeant?” Price smirked.

You stuttered. “What? N-no, sir. I mean—”

“Also heard you wanted to fuck your lieutenant,” Price continued, cutting you off. “Is that true?”

You were burning up, eyes on the floor. Had he seriously told Ghost everything about your little fantasy? How fucking embarrassing—

“Answer your captain.”

The voice reverberated behind you, deep and dark, morphed from the shadows themselves. You felt the hot flash of embarrassment and nerves tingle down your spine.

You swallowed thickly. “Well—”

“Tell the truth, sergeant.” Price said.

“Yes.” You whispered, barely audible over the blood roaring in your ears and the bruising knocks of your heart against your ribs.

Price tutted, shaking his head slowly. “Naughty girl you are, sergeant. Wanting both your superiors?”

You thought he was going to get closer, but he didn’t. Instead, he beckoned you to him, crooking his finger at you. You shuffled forward, until you were so close that one of his slightly bent knees brushed yours.

You had your eyes firmly on the ground, fingers interlocked in front of you. Your entire body was burning up, and you felt like you were being examined under a microscope.

“You think you should be in trouble? Think you should be punished for wanting your captain and your lieutenant?” Price whispered softly, a stark contrast to his words. He lifted his hand, cupping your cheek and stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“No, sir—” you went to mumble, but he wasn’t listening to you.

He peered over your shoulder, hand moving from your cheek to your neck, resting there delicately, feeling the fluttering of your pulse.

“Think she should be disciplined for this behaviour, lieutenant?” Price asked Ghost, and you screwed your eyes shut.

You heard the door lock.

Footsteps, only a couple. Then a presence behind you: a lurking figure pressing against your back, warm and muscular.

“Definitely,” Ghost said and you felt your heart explode with nerves. “Can’t let our sergeant get away with this.”

You felt numb. What the hell were they—?

“Hear that?” Price cooed in your ear, hand beginning to tighten just slightly around your throat. “Even Ghost knows how naughty you are.”

A sigh left your mouth in a stutter. “Sir, I—”

“You want both of us?” Price asked. “Want us both to fuck you? Since you’re so needy for your superiors, eh, sergeant?”

Your eyes widened, a low whine leaving your throat as Price pressed his fingers tighter, and Ghost pressed his chest closer against your back.

You then felt Ghost shift behind you, his head resting on your shoulder. His arms slowly, slowly wrapped around your waist, tattoos on display. Gloved hands rubbed down your sides as he let his mouth, behind his mask, brush against your ear.

“Captain’s told me all about what you want,” Ghost whispered, voice deep. “Told me how you want both of us. How you want me to fuck your pretty cunt while he fills that pretty mouth of yours. That true?”

You were melting, brain liquifying. “Yeah…” you mumbled out, Price’s hand on your neck and Ghost’s body pressed to yours making you dizzy.

Ghost pushed you back into him, arse against his pelvis. You could feel him hardening. You whimpered.

“So depraved, sergeant…” Ghost held you to him. “So needy,” he pressed his masked mouth to the skin below your ear, and your body jolted, yet he kept you firmly in place. “You want us? Say the word, baby.”

You whimpered again, his mouth hot on your skin even through the mask. Price was watching the two of you, patiently, hand on your neck.

“Yes, fuck, please…” you drawled, and that sealed your fate.

•°•

“Yes, fuck, please—!” You moaned out, reaching down to grip Ghost’s head.

Ten minutes after meeting in Price’s office, you were in his bedroom. The captain had stripped you naked, both him and Ghost had sucked marks down the entirety of your neck and chest. They then man-handled you onto Price’s bed, and that is how you ended up like this.

Ghost lay on his back, his arms wrapped around the thick of your thighs. He was holding— no, pushing— you onto him. You tried to remain upright, but his tongue was slipping in and out of your cunt in such a way that you were struggling to maintain balance.

You had a hand to his head, fingers pinching against the material of his mask. The lieutenant had rolled it up, just above his nose, so he could attach his mouth to your dripping core. His nose nudged your clit with each stroke of his tongue, making you hum out from the base of your throat in pleasure.

Ghost dragged his tongue up and down your folds, swirling around your clit for a moment, before plunging it back into your hole with a lewd squelch. You moaned out at his actions, thighs tightening around his head. He groaned into your cunt, the vibrations setting your clit alight.

“Ghost…” You keened, hand holding his mask-covered head as you tossed your head back.

He hummed against your cunt in reply, tongue still deep in your hole. He was looking up at you, eyes hooded, veined hands gripping and kneading the soft flesh of your thighs.

In front of you, Price leaned against the headboard, a freshly lit cigar between his lips. Like Ghost, he was in his boxers and nothing else, and he palmed himself as he listened to the breathy noises you were making.

You blinked over in his direction, the smell of his cigar smoke intoxicating, mixing with the smell of both their colognes, your perfume and sex. You whined at him, reaching your free hand out and resting it against his bare knee (that’s all you could reach from your position).

He ran his fingers up and down your arm. “That feel good, love?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Price took a drag of his cigar. “Tell him, then. Tell him how good he’s making you feel.” He exhaled the smoke in your direction, and it seemed to glow around your head in a shimmery grey cloud.

You whined, Ghost moving his lips to draw your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly. You looked down at him, eyes nearly watering, and found him still looking up at you. His pupils were blown, stretched across his irises, and you could see the small mound in his mask where the bump of his nose was covered.

That’s all you could see. The rest of his face, unmasked, was deep and happy in your wet heat.

“Feels so good, Ghost,” you breathed, petting his head gently. “Making… making me feel so… good.”

The way he was lapping at you was making it hard to concentrate. Next to you, Price shifted so that he was sitting alongside Ghost’s laying form. He grabbed hold of your throat again, fingers pressing gently to your neck. He then brought your face to look at him. With his other hand, he plucked the cigar from his lips, a cloud of smoke swirling out of it. He then pressed the cigar to your lips, coaxing you to inhale. You did, forcing back the urge to cough, instead just exhaling it mid-sigh as Ghost’s pace increased.

Price looked at you approvingly, taking one last drag of his cigar before he placed it on an ashtray on the bedside table. He didn’t exhale, holding the smoke in his mouth and pulling you to him. He pressed his mouth to yours in a searing open-mouthed kiss. The smoke was pushed into your mouth, the burn soothed by the delicate caress of his wet tongue. You whined into the kiss, weaving your free hand into Price’s hair, holding his face to yours as you kissed him.

The smoke he blew into you mouth escaped in tiny tendrils out the corners of your mouth. He pulled away, gripping your throat and angling your head to the side so he could suck another hickey onto you— to join the multiple blooming across your neck, chest and breasts. He sucked it at the underside of your jaw, nipping along your collarbone before he pulled away.

As he did so, you felt your stomach begin to tighten, your body flushed hot with arousal as your climax simmered within. Your legs tightened even more around Ghost’s head, earning another low groan from the depths of the lieutenants chest.

“Gonna cum?” Price asked you, rubbing his fingers possessively down your neck.

You nodded frantically, your high closing in on you fast. You were whining, desperate, pushing against Ghost’s head.

“Ghost, I’m go—”

Ghost shifted his arms from your legs to your hips, pushing you off of his face and onto his lap as he sat up. You gasped loudly, body thrumming with a suppressed orgasm, stringing your nerves tight. You ignored the throbbing in your clit as you stared him down.

“What—?”

“You’ve been so greedy, sergeant,” Ghost said, voice condescending. “We told you this was a punishment. You won’t get to cum unless we say so.”

“Please—” you pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

Instead, you’re roughly manoeuvred off of Ghost’s lap, pinned onto your back by two pairs of strong hands. Your head came to rest on Ghost’s leg, the expanse of his thigh cushioning you. You look up at him, and he rests a hand on your cheek.

You have a moment of serenity before your legs are thrown upwards again. You restrict a gasp as you feel the bed shift, Price tossing your legs over his shoulders and settling in between your thighs. His eyes are locked on you, making eye contact as he drags himself closer to your leaking core.

You huff down at him, reaching for him, snagging your fingers in his hair and pulling gently. He smiles at you, smoky breath fanning across your cunt, warm and right there. You urge him forward, but he doesn’t move: remains still, hands slowly wrapping around your legs, the scratch of his beard on your inner thighs.

You were getting desperate, heat building in the base of your spine, legs trembling. You were holding Price’s hair, whining at him.

“Price, please.” You begged, tears welling behind your eyes as the heat of his mouth grew tantalisingly close to you. Your cunt was still aching from your stripped orgasm just moments prior, and you could feel your excess arousal pooling along the curve of your arse.

Price chuckled lowly. “Begging, are we?”

He didn’t say anything else when you groaned at him. Instead, he sealed his mouth over your clit, then licked up and down your folds. You jolted against Ghost’s lap, sobbing out in pleasure that— fucking finally— Price had his mouth on you. You pushed your captain’s face further into your cunt as his tongue worked you, and he hummed against you.

There were tears in your waterline, a product of your desperation, that Ghost noticed. He peered down at you, still stroking your cheek, your head dangerously close to his cock, tenting his boxers. He could get you to suck him off, but, if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to watch your pretty face as your captain ate you out.

He lifted you up slightly, so that you were leaning against his hip, head raised and still able to see both his and Price’s lusted stares.

“You like that, baby?” Ghost whispered, dragging his hand to your jaw and lifting your head to look at him. “You like when your pretty cunt gets eaten?”

You hummed out a moan, a yes, as your captain fucked his tongue into you repeatedly. His nose pressed against your sensitive clit, making your legs clamp around his head. He groaned into you, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, before he opened them and resumed watching your blissed out state.

The tears behind your eyes slipped along your waterline, sparkling in your eyelashes as your body drew tighter and tighter, a thin sheen of sweat adorning your skin.

Ghost was rubbing at your jaw, your cheek, petting your hair as you got nearer to coming. He watched a single tear roll down your cheek, and he caught it with his forefinger, smearing it across your skin.

“You’re crying, pretty girl?” He mused. “Feels so good that you’re crying?”

You sobbed out at him, the pressure and heat on your overstimulated cunt intensifying. You now had one hand in Price’s hair, the other gripping Ghost’s wrist as he drew his finger along your cheek, pressing it against your lips.

Ghost’s finger breached your mouth, another followed, and you moaned around them. He shushed you gently, letting you weakly twist your tongue around the digits. His eyes darkened behind his mask, before he pressed his fingers against your tongue, pinning it to the bottom of your mouth. You choked, feeling saliva begin to pool. Before you could stop it, more tears were streaming down your face, drops of saliva squeezing out the corners of your mouth.

Ghost groaned above you, thrusting his fingers further into your mouth, making you gag. “Gonna stuff your mouth with my cock, eh, baby? Wanna see those tears when I’m fucking this pretty mouth…” He ended with another groan as tears slipped down your cheeks.

You were so close, the pleasure almost painful as Price sucked at your clit, running his hot tongue along your sopping cunt.

You pulled his hair, mumbling around Ghost’s fingers. “Price, please.”

He pulled away. You wanted to scream. Ghost pulled his fingers out of your mouth, holding your throat with wet digits.

“Price—!” You moaned out, body hot and aching and flushed with sweat. “Please, sir, please let me…”

Price tutted you, spreading your legs further, moving your thighs away from his head. His entire lower face was drenched with you, facial hair glistening, nose and lips wet. He licked his lips, eyes flicking from your tear-streamed face, to your drooling cunt, back to your face.

“Think you deserve it?” Price asked, fingers dragging along the inside of your thigh, making you squirm. Ghost’s hold kept you still. “Think you deserve to cum after being such a naughty girl, eh, love?”

“Yes, fuck,” your body was on fire, trembling from yet another orgasm that was taken from you. “Please, Price, need it so bad.”

Price looked up at Ghost, who was too busy staring at the tears dripping down your face, mixing with the rivulets of saliva. He was dragging his fingers across them, collecting the liquid on the pads of his fingers.

“What do you think, Ghost?” Price asked. “Think she deserves it?”

Ghost snapped his eyes away from your face, over to Price’s. He let his eyes rake over your body, overheated and squirming, and then nodded at Price.

“Yeah, I just think she should apologise first,” Ghost held your throat, making a small moan catch in your throat. He whispered at you, “apologise, baby.”

You groaned, blinking tearily at him.

He cooed, almost condescendingly. “Apologise for being such a needy slut, sergeant.”

Price suddenly pushed two fingers into your aching hole.

“Fuck— I’m sorry—! I’m sorry—!”

“For?” Ghost urged.

“For— oh my god— for being such a n-needy slut.” You sobbed, arching your back off the bed as Price fucked his fingers into you.

Through the mask, Ghost pressed a kiss to your forehead, stroking his fingers along your neck and face with either hand.

“Good girl, baby,” Ghost muttered. “Good girl.”

Price reattached his mouth to your clit as his two fingers dragged along your walls, making you writhe. Your orgasm was quick to build again, and you held onto Ghost for stability.

You were scared to warn them about your fast approaching climax, worried Price would stop. But the words slipped past your lips, dazed: “Gonna cum…”

“Go on then, baby,” Ghost wiped the tears and saliva from your face. “Cum for us. Cum in your captain’s mouth. Show us you’re a good girl, come on.”

You came with a moan of their ranks— gushing into Price’s mouth, splattering across his face and forearm. Ghost praised you gently, stroking your face as you came down, trembling. Price soon detached from your cunt, moving up your body to slam his mouth to yours. You moaned, tasting yourself.

“Fucking heavenly,” Price uttered, pulling away. “Feel better, love?”

You whimpered at him, leaning against Ghost for support. They both chuckled at you, before Ghost’s hands around your neck were gone, and you were being moved. You were spun over, your hands and knees pressed against the mattress. Your arms buckled, pleasure-weak, and you settled your chest against the soft duvet.

That position didn’t last long, as Price moved past you, settling up against the headboard. He urged you forward, taking your hand and pulling you to him. He rested your front on his lap, his boxers now gone, his cock hard as he gripped it. Your eyes widened, moaning at the sight, and you were quick to replace his hand with your own, holding him.

Behind you, you felt the bed dip and two large hands grab your hips. Fingers traced along your stretch marks, rubbing circles as a warm presence loomed over you. You lazily stroked your captain’s cock, and he huffed above you, a gentle hand coming to rest on the top of your head.

“Isn’t she fucking gorgeous, lieutenant?” Price said, petting your head.

Ghost grunted a reply, too busy massaging the flesh of your hips. He leaned forward, his hard body bending over your back. You could feel the firm ridges of his abs along your backside, and the weight of his cock rubbing onto the mound of your arse.

“So pretty…” Ghost said after a moment, moving one hand to hold his cock, tracing it down the wet seam of your cunt.

You moaned into Price’s lap, hand faltering on his cock at the feeling of Ghost behind you. You hadn’t even seen his cock, but it’s imprint against your sensitive flesh gave you a clear enough mental picture. Above you, Price continued to pet your hair.

“Gonna be a good girl for us, sergeant?” He asked. “Gonna let us fill you up?”

You didn’t answer, hyper-focused on the way Ghost teased the fat head of his cock up and down your folds. Both men waited for a second, your airy sounds filling the room and making them both harder.

Price used his hand to wrap around yours, guiding it in stroking his cock, encouraging you to resume your earlier actions. You did, face still buried in his thigh as Ghost continued to smear your arousal down the fat of your thighs with his cock.

“Come on, love,” Price urged. “Gotta give me an answer. Want us both, yeah? Want Ghost to fill your needy cunt? Want me to fill this pretty mouth?”

You mumbled something against his bare thigh, coarse hair tickling your face. Price sighed above you, and you suddenly felt the weight of Ghost’s hand leave your hip.

You quickly found out where it went.

Ghost landed a solid smack to your arse, the clap echoing around the room. You jolted forward, head lifted from Price’s lap, mouth agape with a silent gasp.

The lieutenant rubbed at the reddened flesh with his large hand, soothing it. “Answer your captain, baby. Go on.”

You whined, blinking out of your haze, looking up at your captain with wet eyelashes. He looked down at you, cupping your face.

“Come on, darling. Want both of us?”

You nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Fuck, yes,” Ghost growled, before he was thrusting all the way into your tight heat. You opened your mouth in a silent moan, heart spasming in your chest as he filled you. “Fuck, such a tight cunt, baby. So fucking wet.”

He pulled out and pushed into you again, dragging the air from your lungs in a stretched moan. He built a pace as you dropped your hand to the base of Price’s cock, bringing it to your lips.

“That’s it, baby,” Ghost grunted behind you, pelvis smacking your arse. “Suck your captain’s cock, just like that, good girl…”

You took Price’s cock into your mouth after placing a delicate kiss to the tip. When your mouth enveloped him, Price released a low groan. He watched you, eyelids heavy, as you took more of him.

What you couldn’t fit in your mouth— which was, unsurprisingly, quite a lot— you wrapped your hand around. Your saliva was quick to drip down his cock, and you used it to slick your hand movements, pumping him as you dragged your mouth up and down.

“C-Christ,” Price hissed. “So good, love. So good.”

Your body hummed at the praise.

Ghost continued to fuck into you like a man starved, rutting his cock into you, grunting beneath his breath with each thrust. Your cunt was dripping around him, down your thighs.

He clucked his tongue. “Such a messy girl, sergeant. Making such a mess on my cock.”

You moaned around Price’s cock, the sound of Ghost moving in and out of your wet heat deafening in the quiet room. The masked man leaned over, placing his mouth to your spine. Even through the material, you could feel the heat and shape of his lips, a tender action as his cock hit deep within you, abusing your cervix.

“Such a good fucking girl, baby,” he uttered, slamming you against him. “My good fucking girl.”

Above you, Price huffed. His grip on your hair tightened, and he bucked his hips slightly, tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

“Yours?” He breathed. “I had her first— stuffed that cunt first, lieutenant. She’s all mine.”

He inclined his hips again. You gagged again, tears blurring your vision.

Ghost let out a short, low laugh. An amused scoff. Both hands holding your hips, he moved one around your body, placing a thick finger to your swollen clit. He continued to fuck you mercilessly, hitting the soft plug of your womb, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

Your cunt gripped him tighter, eyes rolling momentarily in your head, a loud moan trapped in your mouth as you choked on your captain’s cock.

“She was thinking about me when you fucked her last time, right? Wanted this cock stuffing her tight cunt,” he growled, thrusts increasing, a bruising pace. “Wanted her lieutenant to fuck her. Wanted my cock in— fuck— in this pretty, wet cunt.”

Your orgasm was building. You could feel it, coiling in the pit of your stomach, tingling along the base of your spine. Your cunt was pulsing around Ghost, his cock slamming repeatedly into that spot within you that made your legs twitch and eyes roll.

“But she wanted me first,” Price hissed. It was unfathomable that both men were talking about you as if you weren’t even there. “She wanted my cock— ah, shit— first… wanted me to fuck a baby into her. Isn’t that right, darling?”

You hummed something indistinct around him, feeling him twitch on your tongue. You were barely maintaining precise movements, pleasure flooding your veins at the dual stimulation provided by your lieutenant.

“Sorry captain, I’ve fucked her dumb. Poor baby can’t even speak.” Ghost said, voice hoarse.

Price wasn’t listening. He was looking down at you, his cheeks flushed beneath his beard, grip tightening as he bucked his hips into your mouth. He was going to—

“Take it all, fuck, good girl, darling.” Price muttered, voice swimming in your head as he came down your throat, a breathy groan passing his lips.

He held you to him for a moment longer, letting you catch your breath, cock still heavy on your tongue. When he slowly pulled out, you swallowed properly, and he leaned down to place his mouth to yours.

“Did so well, darling.” He said against your lips.

You tried to kiss back, but your orgasm was breaking like a wave over you. You warbled something at Ghost as Price kissed you— he was swallowing your moans, obscuring as much as he could from Ghost, which you didn’t pick up on.

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock. Atta girl, just like that,” Ghost breathed against your spine, pressing himself to you as you finally came around him. “Good fucking girl, baby.”

You gushed around him, wetness splashing across his pelvis and down both his and your thighs. You moaned again, louder this time, as Price moved away to watch you come undone, his hands cradling your face, neck, holding your tits.

Your post-orgasmic haze ebbed and waned as Ghost rutted into you in such desperation that it made you dizzy. He was grunting behind you, animalistic, as he abandoned your clit and gripped both of your hips. He pulled you against him, meeting your thrusts, your arse smacking against him.

He watched where his cock entered you, how your drooling cunt sucked him in with each thrust. He was groaning under his breath now, panting as he scrambled to maintain a rhythm. He was struggling though, his orgasm mounting.

“Fuck, fuck, baby, so good,” he groped your sides, mumbling. “So good for me, such a good little slut, taking all my cock, baby.”

You writhed beneath him, drunk off his words. Price had reached for his cigar, smoking now as he caressed your upper body, large hands warm on your bare skin.

Then, you were snatched away from Price’s lap. You yelped as Ghost sat you upright, holding you to his chest as he fucked up into you, cock piercing your womb at a new angle. His thighs caged you, large arms holding you still as he used you. He rested his chin on your shoulder, masked face buried in your neck, huffing and panting.

“Gonna cum,” he groaned into your neck. “Gonna cum inside, baby, okay? Wanna fill you w’me.”

Price growled, leaning against the headboard with his cigar hanging from his lips. He was slowly stroking his hardening cock, but stopped at Ghost’s words.

“Don’t you fucking dear, Simon.” Price said, using Ghost’s real name.

It didn’t seem to faze Ghost. He looked at Price over your shoulder, a challenging stare. Then, he groaned, quickly reaching up to shove his mask just above his mouth. He began to suck a hickey onto your shoulder.

“Gonna stuff you full of me, have you leaking, baby,” he said against your skin. “M’gonna put a baby in you… m’gonna breed this tight cunt—”

He moaned against you, coming hard. He filled you to the brim, overflowing onto Price’s bedsheets as he fucked it further into you. He thrusted lazily, holding you too him. You were whining softly under your breath as he grunted a couple more times.

“Good girl.” He whispered, kissing your shoulder.

•°•

Later, both men had cleaned you up, showering you and drying you, before tucking you beneath the— now clean— sheets on Price’s bed.

You rested your head on Price’s chest, his arm around your shoulders, holding your hand on your stomach. He placed a kiss to the top of your head every so often.

Ghost laid beside you, head on your lap. He had taken off his mask, and you raked your fingers through his blond hair. His large hands massaged your thighs over the blanket.

“Feeling okay?” Price asked. “Didn’t hurt you, did we?”

“No, you didn’t,” you said. “Felt good.”

Ghost hummed from his place on your lap. “‘Course it did.”

“Don’t be mean,” You pouted. “You felt just as good, considering you kept thanking me when we were in the shower.”

He just responded with a grunt, but nestled himself deeper into your lap. Price stroked your hair, kissing your head once more.

“Consider this all… disciplinary action.” Price joked, and you smiled, warm and comfortable.

•°•

“So, were you bored out of your mind?” Soap asked the next morning as you, him and Gaz drank tea outside, admiring the early morning quiet.

You took a sip of your tea. “No, they kept me occupied.”

“Both of ‘em?” Gaz laughed. “Ghost let you annoy him all night?”

You hummed, nodding. Gaz just laughed.

Soap ignored the hickeys poking out from the neck of your hoodie. “Glad you had fun, lass.”

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#call of duty #captain john price #captain john price x female reader #captain price #captain price smut #fem reader #price x reader #call of duty mw2 #captain john price x you #captain john price smut #captainfern #captain’snirvana #ghost x reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #the mask stays on #captain price x reader #ghost smut

[mrprettywhenhecries]

worth the squeeze [s.h]

One. Worth Sticking Around For

↪︎ a Stranger Things/The Girl Next Door AU

Steve Harrington ✗ f!Reader

➺ w.c. 4.4k words ➺ tags/warning(s). no use of y/n, reader character uses she/her pronouns, sexual themes, nudity, skinny dipping, Steve's a lil bit of a perv ➺ a/n. I had this thought a couple weeks ago about writing a Girl Next Door AU with Steve and it was just too perfect to pass up despite my other ongoing wips. The plot isn't going to follow the movie exactly, but the main theme will be the same. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💚

When the most beautiful girl Steve's ever seen starts staying at his neighbor's house, he'd do anything to get to know her, even make a fool of himself for her.

[ masterlist]

“I’m tellin’ you, Robin, I’m getting really tired of it,” Steve exclaimed as he drove her home after their shift at Family Video.

“Oh yeah, must be tough going on so many dates with sooo many beautiful women,” Robin scoffed, throwing him a wry look.

“Yeah, I mean, my sex life has never been better, but it’s like, maybe I want more than just sex, you know?” Steve continued as if he hadn’t heard her, gesturing animatedly with one hand while the other gripped the steering wheel.

Robin lifted an eyebrow at him.  “You’re making it real hard to feel sorry for you,” she retorted dryly and Steve returned her flat stare with his own.

“I just wanna meet a girl that I genuinely like being around, I mean, in addition to having great sex with,” he added and Robin laughed.

“Maybe stop having sex on the first date then, Dingus,” she pointed out.

“Yeah yeah,” Steve muttered, knowing she had a point.  After his dry spell the year before, he’d been trying to make up for all the action he’d missed out on, but now… now he was starting to feel empty.  He wanted something meaningful.

Dropping Robin off, Steve headed home, turning onto the quiet street he’d lived all his life and pulled into the empty drive–his parents off on some business trip, leaving him the house all to himself.

Pushing open his car door, he noticed an unfamiliar car parked next door and frowned.  The older woman who lived there didn’t often have visitors.  Heading inside, he forgot about the car when his stomach began to rumble.  Not bothering to change out of his work uniform, he threw some food in the oven and went about taking the trash out.

As he dragged the heavy black plastic bag down the drive, a sound caught his attention and he turned to find one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen pulling a suitcase and garment bag out of the car in his neighbor’s driveway.  Steve’s breath caught and he gaped at her, letting his gaze linger a little too long on her backside and he let out a surprised yelp as he ran right into the trash can at the end of the driveway.

Nearly tripping and sprawling atop the overturned can, he quickly straightened before fumbling to right the can and get the bag inside it with a loud clatter.  Glancing up hastily to see if she’d noticed, he winced when he found her watching him, an amused grin on her lips before she turned away and headed back inside, leaving Steve feeling like a giant fool.

Glancing down at himself, he finally realized he was still in his work vest and let out a sigh.  No doubt he’d just blown his chance at a suave first impression and he muttered to himself as he reluctantly headed back inside, dragging his feet sullenly.

Shrugging off his work vest, he wadded it into a ball and tossed it at the stairs, leaving it lay where it landed before climbing to his room and flopping down onto his bed, reaching for the cordless phone on his bed stand while he waited for his food to cook.

“Y’ello?” Tommy Hagan answered on the third ring and Steve turned his head so his voice wouldn’t be muffled by his pillow.

“Hey Tommy, it’s Steve.”

“Harrington, my man, how’s it hangin’?” Tommy exclaimed and Steve let out a weary sigh.

“So, check it out, there’s this girl staying at my neighbor’s, one of the hottest chicks I’ve ever seen, right?  I mean, she was unbelievable–like an angel, and her smile–” he trailed off with a sigh before shaking his head angrily.  “I haven’t even talked to her yet and I already blew it!” he groaned, running his hand down his face.

“How’d you manage that?” Tommy asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“I was taking the trash out and there she was, bending over to get something out of her car and what do I do?  I trip over the goddamn trash can!  I mean, I’m only human, what am I supposed to do, not look?”

Tommy’s raucous laughter filled his ear and he cringed.

“What’d she do?” he asked once he caught his breath.

“She turned and looked at me and then went back inside,” Steve groaned.  “Oh, oh!  And the worst part!  That’s when I realized I was still wearing my damn work vest.”

“She probably thinks you’re a loser, man,” Tommy pointed out and Steve let out a heavy sigh, lifting his hand from his face.

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled.

It was probably karma for him complaining earlier about wanting more than sex.  Watch, now he’d probably go back to not being able to score at all.

Letting his eyes regain focus, he looked out his window and stiffened.  Next door, a light flicked on in the second floor window across from his, and the girl he’d just been telling Tommy about came into view.  Completely oblivious that he could see her, she began to undress, pulling her shirt over her head, revealing a red lacy bra that hugged her breasts perfectly, pushing them up and together.

“Oh shit–” he breathed, forgetting for the moment that he still had the phone to his ear until Tommy replied in confusion.

“What?  S’goin’ on?”

Steve pushed himself up from the bed and moved closer to the window as she reached behind her back to unclasp the bra, letting it slide slowly down before tossing it aside, her back still to him as she slipped her jeans down, her red panties matching her bra.

“I can see her through the window, she’s undressing,” Steve whispered, his mouth going dry, hoping she’d turn so he could get a better view.

He may have matured in the year since he’d graduated, but he was still a guy after all.

“Holy shit, lucky bastard.  How’s her rack?”

Steve barely heard Tommy over the rush of blood in his ears and he held his breath as she finally turned toward the window.  For one blessed moment he had a perfect view of her chest and he let out a low whistle, admiring her tits and wondering how nice they’d feel in his hands.

It was when his gaze flicked back up to her face, his eyes finding hers staring right back, that panic flooded him and he dropped the phone in his haste to duck below the window and out of sight.  Steve could faintly hear Tommy demanding to know what was happening, but he ignored the phone, slowly pulling himself up just enough to peer through the bottom of the window to see if she’d truly noticed him or not, only to grimace as she quickly pulled a sweatshirt on over her head and shut off the light as she strode out of the room.

“Shit,” Steve hissed, finally picking the phone back up and bringing it reluctantly to his ear.  “I think she saw me.”

Tommy let out a loud snort.  “Good job, man.  Now you’re definitely screwed.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Steve grumbled, hearing the timer on the oven go off downstairs.  “My food’s ready, I’ll talk to you later,” he muttered, cursing his luck.  It was definitely karma coming back to bite him.

“Okay, later.  Keep me posted,” Tommy said and Steve hung up the phone to bound down the stairs and retrieve his pizza before it burned.  Almost as soon as he opened the oven door and pulled the pan out, the doorbell rang.

“Who the hell could that be?” Steve muttered under his breath, dropping the pizza atop the stove and turning off the oven to get the door.

Taking a moment to peer through the peephole before pulling the door open, Steve’s mouth fell open in shock at the sight of the mysterious girl from next door standing on his doorstep–the last person he’d expected to see.

Working moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth, he squashed down the surge of worry that she was only there to tell him off for being a perv, and opened the door.  Leaning nonchalantly against the door frame, he flashed her his most charming smile and ran a hand through his hair to wrangle it, bringing her attention to his best asset, hoping for a second chance at a better first impression.

“Hey there, we haven’t been properly introduced, I’m Steve Harrington,” he drawled, offering his hand.

The drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins was longer than you’d expected and when you pulled into your aunt’s empty drive, all you wanted to do was stretch your legs and collapse into bed, but you knew if you did that then you wouldn’t be able to make yourself get back up and you still had to finish unpacking your car before you could allow yourself the sweet embrace of sleep.

The spare key was exactly where your aunt had said it would be and you let yourself in, deciding to make another trip to grab the rest of your luggage.  It had been such a long time since you’d last visited, it took you a moment to remember the layout of the spacious house.  You didn’t understand why your aunt hadn’t downsized yet, especially since it was just her all alone in the big house, but you weren’t complaining about the extra space, especially since she’d offered you one of her spare rooms til you could afford your own place.

Dropping your backpack on the bed, you returned to your car for the rest of your stuff, aware of the noise coming from the neighbor’s driveway.  You barely paid attention to the young man dragging his trash out to the road as you bent over to grab your suitcase and garment bag from the backseat.

As you straightened, the loud clatter of trash cans falling over made you turn and you had to bite back the laugh that nearly sprang to your lips as the neighbor nearly fell head over heels in his distraction, his eyes quickly tearing away from you as he fought to right himself.

For a long moment, you watched him, smiling to yourself before turning back toward the house. Despite making a fool of himself, he was rather handsome and looked to be about your age.  For a second, you deliberated going back to introduce yourself, but the way your stomach grumbled reminded you that you’d barely eaten anything other than junk food all day and the call of finding sustenance was too great to ignore.  Besides, the poor guy’d just suffered enough humiliation, you didn’t wanna add to that at the moment.

Dragging the rest of your stuff up to your room, you flicked the light on as the sun began to dip below the horizon, and pulled out something a little more comfortable to put on, stripping your t-shirt over your head and unhooking your bra.  Tossing the garment away, you stretched your arms above your head, working the kink out of your back before turning to grab the sweatshirt you’d just laid out.

Glancing up to the window, you realized you could see into the room directly across from yours in the house next door, and your heart leapt into your throat as you locked eyes with the young man you’d just encountered in the driveway, watching as he hastily ducked out of sight, knowing you’d caught him staring.

Clenching your jaw, you yanked your sweatshirt on and stormed out of the room and down the stairs, ready to give the pervert a piece of your mind.  When he answered his front door, however, you faltered for a moment at his confident greeting, as if he hadn’t just been caught watching you undress.

“Hey there, we haven’t been properly introduced, I’m Steve Harrington,” he drawled.

Your brows rose slightly as you stared at his outstretched hand.  So he wanted to pretend like nothing had happened, huh?  Well, two could play at that, you thought, contenting yourself with waiting for the opportune moment to bring it up and catch him off guard.

Taking his hand, you introduced yourself, taking a moment to get a proper look at him.

He was definitely cute, despite spying on you.  Maybe your stay in Hawkins wouldn’t be so dull after all, provided Steve Harrington didn’t turn out to be a total creep.

“I’m pretty sure I definitely would’ve remembered if we’d met before,” Steve said, releasing your hand, though his warmth lingered on your palm.  “So uh, what’re you doing next door?” he asked, looking you up and down discreetly.

“It’s my aunt’s place.  She’s out of town right now, but she said I could stay for a bit til I get back on my feet.  I just quit my job,” you explained, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many questions about your former profession.

“Oh, bummer.  About your job, I mean!  Not that you’re here,” Steve added quickly, making you laugh.

“It’s okay, I was ready for a change,” you said, shrugging, shifting your weight.  “Guess that officially makes us neighbors then.”

Steve nodded, grinning.  “Guess it does,” he mused, his voice trailing off as if he were lost in thought.  

“You gunna invite me in, or make me stand here all night?” you prompted, raising an amused brow at him and Steve shook himself.

“You hungry?  I just pulled a frozen pizza out of the oven,” he offered, gesturing over his shoulder and your stomach chose that moment to remind you how hungry you still were.

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, hoping Steve hadn’t heard your stomach’s impatient rumble.  “You live here alone?” you asked, letting your eyes wander as you followed him in, Steve leading you to the kitchen.

“Nah, with my parents,” he answered with a grimace.  “But dad’s on a business trip and mom went with,” he explained, rifling through one of the drawers for a pizza cutter.

“That’s nice,” you mused, opening the fridge to peer inside curiously.

“Not really,” Steve muttered, turning to pull a couple plates from the cupboard and hand you one.  “Mom’s only there cause she doesn't trust him.”

“Ohh, I see,” you murmured and Steve let out a heavy sigh, divvying up the pizza slices onto your plates.  

“I don’t wanna be anything like him,” he said quietly and you wondered if he’d meant for you to hear or not, hastily clearing his throat and moving on from the subject.  “You want a beer?”

“Yeah, alright,” you replied, accepting the cold can he passed you from the fridge.

“C’mon, let’s eat by the pool,” Steve suggested, leading you through the large open living room and out the sliding glass door to the stone paved patio.  

His parents were clearly loaded, but earlier you’d noticed him wearing a Family Video vest, so either daddy’d cut him off, or he didn’t want his family’s money, and you briefly wondered which was the case.

Steve pulled a couple lounge chairs next to each other and gestured for you to sit, sprawling out next to you.  “So, how long do you plan on staying in Hawkins?” he asked, taking a bite of his pizza and cracking his beer open one handed.

Leaning back in your seat, you chewed your pizza thoughtfully.  “I’m not sure, honestly,” you mused, washing down your pizza with a swig of beer.  “Guess it depends if there’s anything here worth sticking around for.”

When your eyes flicked back to Steve, you watched him swallow, his own gaze quickly darting away.  “I could show you around, y’know, if you want,” he offered, his shoulder lifting in a half shrug, aiming for nonchalance and your lips twitched.

“I’d like that,” you said, picking one of the pepperonis from your pizza slice and popping it in your mouth, sucking the sheen of grease from your fingers.

When you once again caught Steve staring, his beer can half raised to his lips, hovering midair as if he’d forgotten how to drink, you decided it was time to go for the kill.

“I’m starting to think you have a staring problem, Steve Harrington.”

At your words, Steve gave a jerk, spluttering into his can in alarm and you had to bite back a grin at his reaction.

“What do you mean?” he exclaimed, thumping his chest with a fist as he coughed.

“Well, there was that time in the driveway, just now, and… when you watched me undress through your window,” you said, cocking an eyebrow at him.  “Did you get a nice show?” you asked and Steve’s brown eyes widened, his mouth falling open before stumbling over a hasty apology.

“I-I only saw for like an instant!” he argued, holding his hands up.  “It was no big deal, really.”

“No big deal?” you repeated, scoffing quietly and Steve hastily backpedaled, wincing at the offended look on your face.

“I mean, not like that.  You looked great, but I–I didn’t–!  Look, I’m sorry,” he insisted, chancing an apologetic glance at you and your expression softened for an instant before turning impish.

“So, what are we gunna do about this?” you mused, giving him a pointed look, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What do you mean?  Can’t you just accept my apology?” Steve asked warily, a frown tugging at his lips.

“You saw me.  I think it’s only fair that we even the score,” you insisted, leaning back in your chair, watching him expectantly.

“You really expect me to strip right here?” he scoffed, an incredulous note to his voice.

“You got a little show, now it’s my turn, pretty boy.  It’s only fair,” you pointed out, your lips turning down in a pout.  “Are you shy?” you mocked and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Alright, fine,” he replied, pushing up from his seat and pulling his sweater over his head, tossing it at you before toeing off his shoes and undoing his jeans, dropping them to stand before you in his underwear and socks, heat licking up his neck at the way you stared, your gaze traveling over him appraisingly.

“Not bad, but I think you’re forgetting something,” you said, your lips twitching in amusement.  “I want the whole package,” you insisted, pointing to his crotch and Steve’s face flared hotter. “C’mon, I think that’s enough,” he argued halfheartedly, but your sharp look held him in place.

“Fine, guess I’ll just go home then,” you said with a shrug, making to push out of your chair.  “It was nice meeting you, Steve–” 

“Wait–!” he exclaimed, and you paused, turning back to look at him.  “Alright fine,” he huffed, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down, letting them pool at his ankles.

“You happy now?” he asked, throwing his hands up and you bit your lip as your eyes went to his package.  He was definitely well endowed.

“Yep,” you replied, playfully popping the p, your eyes returning to his.  “You know, you’re lucky your back yard is pretty secluded,” you pointed out and he snorted, standing there awkwardly, while trying not to look awkward.

“How long do I have to stand here like this?” Steve asked and you tapped your lip, pretending to think.

“I guess that’s long enough.  But before you get dressed…” you trailed off, standing up and walking closer to him, noticing the way his eyes widened and his breath hitched, wondering what you were about to do.  “Let’s go for a dip,” you finished, giving him a shove into the pool, laughing as he hit the water and came up spluttering, shaking his hair out of his face.

“What was that for–?”

Steve’s exclamation died on his tongue when he noticed you were stripping as well and he didn’t know whether to turn away or if you wanted him to look this time, though you didn’t give him much of a chance, diving into the water as soon as you dropped your clothes to the ground.

When you surfaced, you wiped the water from your face and grinned as you swam toward Steve.

“So are we even now?” he asked, a smile of his own curving his lips and you laughed.

“Yeah, I’d say so.  For now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Steve retorted, his eyebrows climbing.

“I mean, I’m just assuming you’ll do something stupid again,” you laughed, pushing a wave of water at him playfully.

Steve splashed you back with a smirk.  “Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” he agreed.  “So what else do you do for fun, y’know, besides torturing people?” he teased.

You couldn’t help but study him for a moment–the square curve of his jaw, his chestnut hair stuck wetly to his forehead and the dark moles that littered his neck and shoulders.  There were two on his cheek in the perfect spot for kissing.

“I uhm, I like photography and dancing, going to the movies or skating, and swimming,” you answered, huffing a soft laugh.  “Though I should probably start job searching soon,” you sighed.

“What was your old job?” Steve asked and you dropped your gaze, wondering if you should just rip off the band aid and tell him.  But you liked him, and you liked the way he looked at you… If you told him the truth it would make things weird, it always did.

Would it be so bad if he didn’t know?

You could make a fresh start in Hawkins.  No one knew your face.  There’d be no more awkward stares or lewd come-ons, just a sweet guy that seemed to like you for you and who hadn’t taken advantage of the fact that you were both naked in his pool.  Maybe for once you could just feel normal.

“It was dumb, I’m just glad I quit,” you murmured, avoiding giving him a real answer.  “I wanna make a fresh start, maybe go to college, I dunno yet.”

Steve nodded, sobering as he watched you tread water, bobbing in place, carefully keeping his eyes on your face.  “So… do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, floating closer, and you dipped below the water slightly to hide the giddy smile that tugged at your lips.

“No.  Do you have a girlfriend?” you asked, biting your lip when a dazed grin spread across Steve’s face.

“Nope,” he chuckled.  “I’d like one, though.”

“Mmm,” you mused, scrunching up your brow in thought.  “Yeah, I think you do need one,” you teased, kicking your feet lazily as you tilted your head.  “But what kind?”

“Well, for starters, someone cute, and sweet, and clever–” Steve began to list, his gaze never leaving your face as he continued to describe you.  “Definitely someone spontaneous and fun, but down to earth too, who’s not afraid to call me on my bullshit.”

You hadn’t noticed when you’d moved closer to him, your chest only inches from his, and your breath hitched at the realization, warmth spreading through you.

“She sounds pretty fantastic,” you breathed, trying to keep your voice light, Steve’s smile making you dizzy.

“Yeah, she definitely is,” he replied, his hands skimming your sides.  “Any idea where I might be able to find her?”

Unable to make your voice work, you felt yourself lean in, your gaze flicking from Steve’s lips to his eyes, breathlessly waiting for his lips to claim yours as he grasped your hips, holding you close, his eyelids fluttering as his nose brushed against yours.

A loud rustling in the bushes nearby made you freeze, however, ice racing through your veins, and Steve jerked back at the same time you did, suddenly afraid the two of you weren’t alone, only to jump as a rabbit burst from the underbrush at the edge of the property to race across the yard and you threw your head back and laughed at the yelp that left Steve’s throat.

“Oh my God, you were so scared!” you exclaimed, your laughter continuing despite the splash Steve directed at you.

“So were you!” he countered, an incredulous grin twisting his relieved expression.

“Yeah, but I didn’t scream like a girl,” you pointed out, letting out a scream of your own as he swam after you, catching you easily round the waist and a wave of arousal washed over you when you felt his length brush against the curve of your ass and give a twitch.

Steve cleared his throat, hastily releasing you before either of you could become tempted to do more.  And while part of you wished he hadn’t, you were glad he didn’t want to move too fast.

“I’ll uh, I’ll get you a towel, okay?” Steve said, and you caught the pink flush that suffused his cheeks before he swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out.

Averting your eyes for a moment, you couldn’t help but watch as he walked away, admiring his cute ass before he disappeared back inside the house.  When he returned, a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hands, you gave him a pointed look and he huffed a soft laugh, squeezing his eyes shut as he held the towel open for you, not peeking til you were covered.

“I don’t see what the big fuss is about, you’ve already seen all of me,” he teased, his warm voice drenched in playful sarcasm.

“And it was a very nice sight,” you purred, smirking at him and patting his cheek as you passed, bending to pick up your clothes.  “Walk me home?” you asked, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled, shaking his head fondly, and the two of you walked around to the front of your aunt’s house.

“Thanks for the pizza and the swim,” you murmured, stopping in front of the door.

“It was my pleasure,” Steve replied, stepping closer, his damp hair falling into his eyes before he pushed it away.

“You know you owe me a real date now, right?” you asked, wetting your lips, and Steve’s grin grew.

“How about tomorrow night?”

“I think I can fit that into my schedule,” you teased, leaning in to press a kiss to his warm cheek, wanting to leave him wanting more.  “Good night, Steve.”

“Good night,” he echoed softly, watching you disappear inside before finally heading back home, his stomach fluttering excitedly, the same as yours.

➺ taglist. @super-unpredictable98 @heartbreak-sandwich @santacarlahorrorshow @sailorskunk @babydollbaron @thecreelhouse @melodymunson @corrodeddeadlydoll @stevesxyellowxsweater @destroya2005

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #fic: worth the squeeze #joz.fic

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Cat

G/N. Silly. Fluffy.

"You lil shit!" Goo yelps, sharply retreating.

It's a millisecond too late. His reflexes are beat. Fresh scratch marks litter his hand.

Eyes narrowing behind his glasses, he snarls "I'll kill y-"

And is cut off by another swipe, missing his face by a whisker.

"Yeah sorry he does that, he's a menace." You're half apologetic, half grinning that your other menace, the newly acquired blonde delinquent, has finally met his match.

It's an adversary Goo never expected: your fluffy little feline companion.

Goo's not heartless, okay? He's not completely resistant to cute charms (yours, for example). One second the cat had rolled over, exposing its impossibly soft and fluffy belly and who was Goo to turn down such an adorable invitation?

It turns out that the belly was as soft and fluffy as it looked.

For a brief moment, Goo and your cat were mutually (or so he had thought) enjoying the experience... The next-

Well.

Shit. This hurts.

He's had way worse directed at him, yet he didn't expect those little tiny claws to sting so goddamn much. Goo knows you shouldn't harm animals. Still, he couldn't help asking-

Nursing the scratches on his beautiful skin, "I can't kick it right?"

Judging from the glare you gave him, it's very much a no.

.

.

The cat is out to get him.

If cats were capable of plotting and scheming, which this one is, it absolutely is trying to get rid of the other being now taking up your time.

(No, Goo is not batshit and paranoid, thank you.)

Goo eyes the cat with distrust, currently purring in your lap.

"Sweetheart, I wanna put my head there!" he whines, and is given nothing but a chuckle in response as if he's joking.

To add insult to injury, he swears that stupid cat smirked at him too.

.

.

"No, not yet," You push Goo off you, the playful kisses now having taken a distinctly non-playful, and very much hot and heavy turn.

Readjusting his glasses, "Huh, why?"

"My cat’s there," You nod somewhere over his bare shoulder, and his head turns to follow your eye line.

That stupid cat is right fucking there.

"Shoo him out, sweetheart," Goo murmurs, lips grazing against your neck once more.

"I feel bad."

Goo stops. Looks at you with an arched eyebrow. Barely manages to repress a disgruntled sigh.

You know you sound crazy, and you know your cat won't hold it against you. Nevertheless, with a grimace, you tell him, "It's his bedroom too!"

.

.

Turns out it is the cat's bedroom, and also the cat's apartment.

Which it showed by arching his back and hissing everytime Goo appeared in his periphery.

Perhaps only when Goo was with you, did the cat tolerate his presence. Then you got called away for a couple weeks and Goo, like a lovesick idiot, offered to stay and look after your pet for you.

Now with him just on his own, he is proving to be very much an unwanted guest in claimed territory.

Luckily, the hostility and hissing from both sides calmed down after the first few days, eventually turning into an uneasy truce.

Only after feeding the cat, and offering treats (not that Goo wanted to, it was only under your instructions) during the first week did it seem to accept the blonde's presence. As if it somehow knows that this idiot is its final defence before starvation.

So the cat tolerates Goo, even if it is still a bit frosty and begrudging.

.

.

The most unexpected and surprising point though, arrives towards the end of your absence.

Soft meows stirs Goo from his slumber.

He wakes in time to see the cat pounce onto the bed, kneading his paws into your pillow.

"You miss Y/N?" He asks, and receives another meow.

It sounds distinctly like a yes. All frostiness, in the quiet darkness, has melted away.

"Me too," he murmurs.

Maybe it's because Goo is almost asleep again and his defences are down, or maybe they both just miss you. But when he reaches out to stroke the cat's head, he receives, for the first time, a purr. 

A low rumbling, contentment. Gentle pressure, nudging against his palm.

Finally- 

A shared understanding as they both eagerly await your return.

#god i absolutely love this old panel of goo. the swagger and confidence #lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #goo kim #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo #kim joongoo x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[truetogaia]

I JUST WANNA GRAB AT HIS SHOULDERS

pairing: husband!miguel o'hara x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+

synopsis: Miguel is just so so happy to have finally married you, and hes prepared to show you that with his ****

warnings: smut w a lil plot, foreplay, p in v, unprotected sex, depictions, mature n explicit themes, no pull out sorry lolz, size kink, marking kink, biting, choking, lovey rough sex.

word count: 1.3 k

MIGUEL MASTERLIST I REQUESTS: OPEN

Your newly wed husband had practically thrown himself over you the second you stepped foot inside the hotel the two of you had chosen to spend your honeymoon at. 

After a few minutes of him trying desperately to get you out of your big wedding dress, you let out a quiet giggle, reaching back to undo the zipper of the dress and letting it fall to your ankles. He stared for a good while, the two of you had decided to keep the wedding garter on, not wanting to do such intimate things in front of friends and family, and he was so happy you had settled on that decision. His large hands gripped at your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist as he carefully laid you down on the huge, honeymoon bed.

Miguel was hovering above you, pupils blown with lust. He impatiently grabbed at the plush of your thighs, desperate to get to the sweet, sickly treat stashed away in your core. His gaze wandered all over your soft body, appreciating all the curves, the stretch of your skin, embedding it deep within his memories. You gently placed your hands on each side of his face, eagerly pulling him down into a sloppy, wet kiss.

And here you were, trapped beneath the muscular, brawny body of your husband. He caged you in with his strong arms, lips ghosting over your exposed neck and the hickeys that adorned your skin. You clawed at the clothes that kept your skin from meeting his, feeling awfully exposed compared to his fully clothed figure. A slight snicker escaped him as he slowly lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing the toned abs of his abdomen. You let your digits run over each pack of muscle, your eyes glued to the exposed skin. 

A whine seeped from your lips, resembling that of a plea. A smirk tugged at the corners of Miguel’s mouth when the sound reached his ears, and he was more than thrilled to give you exactly what you wanted. His shirt was on the bedroom floor in seconds, the metal of his belt klanking as his fingers quickly worked to get his pants off.

Your skin was burning up, sensitive to the touch, tingles following each tap of his digits. He chuckled, although his mind was as hazy as yours, filled with lust for his new wife. His hands snaked down your waist, toying with the hem of your special lingerie. 

“So, so beautiful..” he mumbled, bringing his head down to kiss at the exposed skin of your chest. Your increased whines only fueled the hunger he felt for you and soon he tore the fabric off of your form. His hands quickly placed themselves on your hot skin, traveling up to grope at your breasts and further down to grab at the tender flesh of your thighs. 

His breathy voice made your pussy clench around nothing, “Shit.. you look delicious.. All mine now, yeah”

He snickered and a gasp escaped your soft lips as his digits made contact with your folds, already soaked in your overflowing arousal. Miguel groaned loudly as the wetness coated his thick fingers, the sound sending shivers up your spine, making you even more impatient. His hands wandered to your garter, moving a finger under it and letting the elastic band snap back in place. 

“Gonna keep this on for later, how does that sound, mi vida?”

The look on your face made him feral, eyelids heavy and eyes hazy as you nodded. You cried out as two of his long, slender fingers sank into your cunt, immediately setting a steady, rhythmic tempo. Your soft moans filled the room as his digits pumped in and out of your pussy, senses heightened euphoric feeling left after the wedding.

You felt an all too familiar knot start to form in your abdomen, moans increasing in volume the closer to the sweet release you got, but when you clenched around his fingers, he stopped. You looked up at him, pouting at the denial of your release. 

“Ah ah, you deserve to cum under even better circumstances.” He cooed, hastily moving his hands to the hem of his, painfully tight, boxers. 

“Be patient, princesa. I'll be stretching you out in no time if you’re just patient,  alright?” He cooed, voice soft and reassuring. You nodded lazily, the pretty updo of your hair now messy and ruined. “That’s a good girl,” sighing, he brought a hand to your mouth, gently tapping your lips with his thumb, “now, suck for me, yeah?” You did as he said without hesitation, gliding your wet tongue over his rough digit. He hummed in approval, watching your perfect lips enclose his finger.

He suddenly removed the digit from your mouth, moving his hands to pull his boxers down. You propped yourself up on your elbows, leaning back to observe your husband, pupils the size of jupiter. He suddenly grabbed a hold of your waist, turning you around to expose your behind. His soft palm stroked the plush of your ass, circling it before traveling further down to prod at the hole of your sweet cunt with his soaked fingers. 

You felt him shift his weight to his knees, positioning his heavy tip, aligning it with your desperate, fluttering entrance. Both of you sighed as he pushed in, reveling in the feeling of something filling your needy cunt. He slowly inched himself deeper into you, sinking into the tightness of your core. You felt the girth of his hot cock stretch you out, filling you perfectly. 

As soon as he was certain you were comfortable and ready, he set a loving, steady pace. The volume of your moans increased as he hit that special place over and over with each languid stroke. 

“Yeah? Does it feel good, hm?” his voice was breathy in your ear, toned arms securely wrapped around your waist. You nodded as his thrusts hit deeper, you could barely form any coherent sentences, feeling completely dazed from the immense pleasure you were receiving.

“Aww, princesa, you love being stuffed don't you..” Your cunt clenched around him, “Yeah, I think you do, tell me how much you love it.” He placed a hand on your throat, gently guiding your head to the side to look at him. His hair was disheveled and you swore his eyes wore primal resemblances. 

The words caught in your throat as the head of his fat cock continuously grazed against your cervix, “Come on, cariño, answer me when I'm talking to you y/n.” A particularly rough snap of his hips knocked the air out of your lungs, making it even harder for you to express your thoughts.

The sound of skin slapping and the constant plunging into your sopping cunt made Miguel’s head spin. 

His strokes got frenetic, erratic snaps of his hips against your own followed by deep groans and strangled noises. He was suddenly chasing his own high, buried in the warmth of your drenched cunt. Hungry for release, whilst also desperate to give you yours, he gently nipped and sucked at the skin on the curve of your neck, leaving occasional marks. 

You cried out as his fangs made contact, tearing through your tender flesh. You could feel your release starting to build up in the pit of your stomach as your husband kept hitting the perfect spot, thrusting relentlessly. 

He moved one hand down to play with your swollen clit, rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves with the coarse pads of his fingers. The tension in your stomach finally snapped with one last, quick thrust of his hips. He followed soon after, collapsing on your back before pulling out with a groan.

You turned over to cup his face, smiling when you saw his worn out expression. He smirked lazily and kissed your swollen lips, chanting the word mine in between sloppy kisses. “I guess this pussy officially belongs to me now.. I can have you quivering and trembling under me every night… mi bella esposa.” The beautiful smile that was plastered on his face carved itself into your mind, never to be forgotten.

His large, warm hand wandered down the plush skin of your thigh again, letting his fingers ghost over the material of the only piece of.. Clothing.. Left on your sweaty body.. Your garter. 

“Time to take care of this, hm?”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara smut

[auroravictorium]

high infidelity (pt. 3) (k.b.)

you know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love.

Summary: kaz and the crows arrive at a safehouse after rescuing reader, where kaz is confronted by his past. reader wakes up and starts the long trek to recovery. Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship) Word Count: ~3.1k Warnings: brief allusions to SA (inej expressing concerns about reader), mentions of injuries (head injury, severe wound on reader's arm, bruises, scrapes, etc.), mentions of blood, lots of grappling with trauma, mentions of sibling & parent loss/death Genre: angst? a bit of fluff? Author's Note: hello hello!! i'm so sorry about my long absence. college and life happened, BUT i have a birthday in the near future (libras unite!!) so have the final part of high infidelity as a lil birthday celebration :)) pinky promise next part is already in the works and it should be a lot less heavy!! enjoy <33

part one / part two / masterlist

Kaz gently pulled you back into his arms as Jesper navigated the exhausted horses toward a small, two-story farmhouse tucked away in a remote field a few miles from Lij. In the distance, a few farmhouses stood like faint silhouettes against the night sky. Beyond that, nothing for miles. The perfect place to hide, heal, and plot before their return to Ketterdam.

The air was clean, untainted by manufacturing smoke, and stars glittered above Kaz as he carefully stepped out of the carriage with you in his arms. He thought hard about the stars as he approached the porch of his childhood home; he thought about how much you would love them when you awoke and how your eyes might look as they caught their distant glimmer.

It was easier to ignore the stirring ghosts of his past if he thought about his present, the future he hoped to have. That present and future rested in the sleeping woman in his arms, her head against his shoulder and her weight a strangely comforting presence against him. The comfort was foreign to him, a sensation he could distantly remember if he reached far enough through the fog that had plagued his life since Jordie died.

The stars disappeared from view as Kaz stepped under the porch awning and turned to face Inej, silent as ever behind him. "The key is under the board with a split down the middle," he said quietly, jerking his chin to the end of the porch.

"Whose house is this?" Nina questioned as she arrived, pale and exhausted from working on you for most of the ride. "And do you think they'll mind if I sleep here for an eternity?"

Kaz shot her a glare and answered neither of those questions. He didn't feel like telling any of them about whose house this was, nor about the phantoms waiting inside. He had enough to worry about without fielding their questions, and his concern rested solely with you, unconscious in his arms. "Jesper, remove the furniture covers. Inej, Nina, help get Y/N settled." His eyes flicked between the Wraith and the Heartrender, a troubled face and an exhausted one. "Then rest. All of you. Jesper, on the couch. Nina and Inej, take the large room upstairs."

He didn't plan to sleep until he was sure you wouldn't die on him. He'd had enough of death in his life.

Inej unlocked the door and pocketed the key, moving inside and holding the door out of the way for everyone to trickle inside.

The room was spotless, remarkably untouched by dust. As Jesper started to remove the cloths over the couch, table, chairs, and small kitchen surfaces, not a single speck of dirt puffed into the air. "I was expecting more... dirt," Jes admitted, wadding up the cloths and tossing them in an empty corner. "For a farmhouse."

Kaz didn't respond, turning on his heel and marching up the stairs toward the small bedroom to the right. He nudged open the door to his and Jordie's old room and held his breath as he carried you in and settled you in the made bed. If he didn't breathe, he couldn't let the past settle in his lungs and choke him.

His gaze remained solely on your face as he carefully unlaced your bloodstained, beaten boots and set them aside. But his thoughts were elsewhere, on a presence he could feel breathing down his neck. The hairs there prickled, and Kaz pursed his lips, fighting the growing tremor in his hands as he tucked the blankets around you.

Jordie was there, in that room. Present, though he'd been dead for years. His father sat on the rickety old seat beneath the window, watching Kaz brush your hair from your face before jerking his hand back. His breathing was coming fast now, and though he longed to stay with you, he had to get out. His lungs burned and ached, unable to pull in the oxygen he needed. 

Kaz had to get out of that room, escape the ghosts' eyes on him, their hands reaching toward the exposed skin of his neck, the small gap between his gloves and his sleeves that exposed his wrist. Anywhere there was skin for their cold, bloated, marred, dead hands to grab.

"I'm sorry," he breathed to you, the words barely audible. Kaz stumbled back and then fled like the coward he was. His lungs struggled to expand in his chest, his breathing shallow as he moved down the stairs and back into the living room. He walked past Jesper's unconscious, snoring form on the couch and grabbed a metal bucket from beside the back door with a trembling hand.

Coward, he thought, opening the door and stepping out into the cold winter air. It nipped at his cheeks and neck, but he didn't bother grabbing a coat. He deserved to brave the cold, to have to break the thick layer of ice in the well with his bare hands. He should be brave enough to stay with you until you woke, to hold your hand and think about everything he wanted to say. 

He could kill a man, but he couldn't stay with the woman he loved. It was a cruel trick of the universe, a flaw in the new person the harbor made. Brekker, where there should be Rietveld, two clashing sides of himself with the wrong half winning.

Broken, twisted coward. 

You deserved better than this, than him.

Kaz slammed the door shut, his breath clouding in front of him, and he limped off toward the edge of the Rietveld property to collect water.

The door rattled in the frame behind him, but Kaz paid it no mind. Inside, Jesper's snores seized for a moment before continuing, droning on alongside the eerie, anxious silence of the farmhouse and the cold, windy beginnings of snow.

-

Once Kaz was back from the well, his gloves soaked and cheeks flushed from the cold, Inej took a bowl of water from the bucket and a clean rag and slipped into the room you were asleep in.

She quietly pulled the seat from under the window to the edge of the bed and got to work, carefully wiping away the blood she could see without moving your clothing. As she ran the rag down your forearm, mindful of the deep gash cutting your tattoo in half, the concern that had been heavy on her heart came bubbling to the surface. She blinked away the unexpected tears in her eyes, turning her head toward the window and staring out toward the sky as she tried to collect herself again.

Inej hoped and prayed that this was the worst of what you'd been through. She didn't want to consider the alternative where you'd experienced the same pain and horrors she had. Unwelcome hands, permanent scars on the skin and beneath it, and memories of touches that didn't belong. 

She did what she could to get as much grime from your skin without scrubbing too hard or moving your clothing, and when she was done, she watched the flakes of blood and dirt melt and turn the water reddish brown. Inej shuddered and stood, taking the bowl and leaving your room as silently and quickly as she arrived. She wordlessly moved past Kaz on the steps and through the living room and stepped outside to dump the water into a patch of brown grass.

Inej stood there long after the reddened water ran over the dead blades of grass, a glass bowl dangling from her hand and her face turned toward the night sky. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and two tears slipped down her cheeks.

Please, she thought, her lips silently forming the word. Don't let her suffer what I have.

-

You woke up as the sun started rising, a loud thud and quiet bickering startling you into consciousness. You peeled open your eyes, fighting against the weight of your eyelids, and you blinked to clear your vision. Shivering, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows and then upright.

The room was freezing, your nose and ears numb from the temperature, and you pulled your covers tightly around you. A coat laid over you, smelling of smoke and city. Kaz. As you pulled it around your shoulders, ignoring the bloodstains on the front, you turned up the collar to inhale his scent again.

As you turned your head to investigate the room around you, the world twisted, and you squeezed your eyes shut to steady yourself, your fingers curling into the silky lining of Kaz's coat. Once your head stopped spinning, you opened your eyes again. 

The room was small, sparsely furnished with only the bed, a rickety chair beside it, and a chest in the corner with a thick layer of dust on top. The wallpaper was yellowed from age, and there were rectangular outlines on the walls where paintings had once been. Once, this had been someone's home, and the thought made the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with the sense that you were intruding. Distantly, you heard a quiet conversation from below, and the voices were too soft, the background too quiet for you to be in the city somewhere. 

Where the hell am I?

You slowly swung your legs over the edge of the bed, determined to poke around further and determine where you were. Standing and pulling Kaz's coat tighter around your shoulders, you managed one step. And another. Your legs trembled and threatened to go out from under you, but you took another step. The door was almost within reach, and you stepped forward to place your hand on the doorknob.

A board creaked beneath your weight, and the voices you'd heard below went quiet.

Footsteps thundered against wood, and the floorboards creaked. The sound grew louder, and you took shaky steps back, your head already swiveling in search of a weapon. Your hand made contact with a glass of water left behind on the bench beside your bed, and you lifted it, ignoring the liquid sloshing over the rim and onto your hand. Your grip slipped slightly, but you held on.

The door screeched open, and you raised the glass as if you might throw it. Your heart raced in your ears as you took in the faces of your friends in the doorway, and it took you a moment to process that you were safe and they would not harm you. Your team. Your friends. Your family.

"Y/N," Jesper said, already stepping into the room, and you set the glass back onto the bench as he came toward you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight, bone-crushing hug. 

You let out a quiet sob as unexpected tears sprung to your eyes, and you wrapped your arms around him, too, despite the spasms of pain running up your bandaged arm and throughout your body. You hid your face in Jesper's chest, breathing in his smell of gunpowder and metal, and he held you tightly against him, swaying back and forth a bit. 

Jes pressed a teary kiss to your sweaty, bloodied hair. "Saints, Y/N," he whispered, and he didn't have to say anything else. You understood. I thought you would die, he was thinking. 

You couldn't blame him. For a while, you thought you would too.

You pulled back and looked up at him, brushing away his tears. "Stop crying," you told him, your voice raspy from emotion and disuse. "You'll make me cry too."

Jesper laughed shakily and squeezed you in a hug one more time, and then a small hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him back. Inej was there, her warm, brown eyes alight with concern. There were a million questions, a million worries there, and you knew she was terrified for you. It wasn't hard to guess what she was thinking.

"I'm okay," you said. "They didn't." 

Inej's fear deflated, and she pulled you into a hug. Her grip was gentler than Jesper's, wary of your injuries, and she pulled back to grip your shoulders. "Thank the Saints," she whispered. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "If they had..."

"They didn't," you repeated, knowing she needed to hear it. You could feel the guilt and worry weighing down on her, and you didn't want her to shoulder that. So you pulled her back into a hug, even as the world tipped under your unsteady legs.

Nina didn't say a word as she joined the embrace, wrapping one arm around Inej and the other around you, pressing her fingertips against the nape of your neck. Her touch eased some of the stiffness and the persistent throbbing there, and you sighed, your head drooping onto her shoulder as you let your friends support you for once. 

"I'll pour some hot water and grab some clean clothes," Inej whispered, withdrawing from the embrace before turning to Jesper and nodding, the two of them quietly leaving as Nina started to tend to your wounds without you having to ask.

"How bad is it?" you murmured, letting Nina carefully guide you to sit on the bed. She pulled your injured arm out before you and peered down at the bandages, and you averted your gaze so you didn't have to see the state of your tattoo. 

"It'll scar," Nina said after a few beats, gently undoing the bandages and then running her fingers over the marred flesh. The touch would have caused pain, had it not been for the soothing rush of her magic over your skin. "When we found you, you had a bad head injury. I needed to work on that first."

There was an apology in her voice, and you looked up at her, finding her already staring back at you with so much sadness in her gaze that the tears you were barely holding back almost slipped down your face. But instead of focusing on what you'd lost, you took a deep breath and forced the tiniest of smiles.

"Thank you," you said softly. 

Nina nodded and smiled back. For once, she didn't press. She didn't say what was undoubtedly on her mind, didn't ask about what had happened to you. Instead, she just silently started to work on repairing what she could of your tattoo, healing scrapes and bruises as she went.

And you let her support you as you did fall apart, her hands still tending to your skin as you turned your head into the black coat draped around your shoulders and let your tears mix with the smokey scent of Kaz and the city that lingered on the fabric.

-

The air was bitterly cold when you took your first step outside, and you breathed in as much frosty air as possible. Your lungs ached in protest, but you didn't mind. You couldn't after everything you'd been through.

Wrapping the long black coat tighter around yourself, you took slow steps toward the tall silhouette standing near the tree line. He must have heard you coming, and he turned to face you when you stopped a few feet away.

"Hi," you said, your breath clouding before you before dissipating into the dusk. You took another step toward him, then another, then another, until you stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Tucking your hands into the too-big pockets in the coat, you looked up at him. He was still watching you, his expression frustratingly yet understandably unreadable. "How long have you been out here?"

"I don't mind the cold," Kaz answered, his voice even raspier than usual. A typical nonanswer for Kaz, but the redness of his nose and around his eyes was anything but typical. The sight made your heart sink, and you longed to reach out to him and give him some reassurance that you were alright.

"Come inside. There's tea," you said, trying again to get him to thaw toward you. If he would say more than one sentence, you might have a better chance at finally talking with him.

"I'm alright," he said, turning back toward the tree line. His icy gaze flickered over the trees as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world, even as muddled shapes. Maybe they were when he wasn't busy looking everywhere but at you.

You were silent for a few long moments, then let out a slow sigh. "Kaz," you said softly. "Don't do that." The words tasted familiar on your tongue, like a memory shared long ago. You hoped Kaz would recognize them, would recognize what you were trying to say. He was shutting you out; at any other time, you would understand, and wouldn't push him to open up to you. 

But you needed him. Don't pull away from me, you silently pleaded, looking up at him as you waited for him to react to your words, to understand what you were asking of him.

Kaz turned to you, and you saw something sparkling in his eyes. It was the first indication of emotion he'd given you, and it was precisely what you needed: a sign that he would open up to you eventually about what was running through his mind. "Do what?" he said, the words fighting to come up past the lump in his throat, the blockage formed by everything he wanted to say to you.

"The distance." The words were breathless, and you didn't follow them up with anything. You didn't need to, because Kaz let out a shaky exhale of his own and then dropped his hand from the top of his cane to his side. Your throat felt tight with emotion as you freed your hand from your coat pocket and then slipped your hand into his, lacing your fingers with his gloved ones. The leather was cool against your skin, but Kaz's touch alone warmed you up plenty.

Kaz gave your hand the gentlest of squeezes, and you felt his gaze burning into your face. It was heavy with the weight of words unspoken, and you decided that talking could wait until it was easier for both of you to bear.

Instead, you turned your head up toward the sky, taking a futile glance around for stars just as the first snowflakes began to flutter down around you and the earth continued its unaffected rotation on its axis.

taglist: @tonberry-yoda, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3, @statsvitenskap, @sapphiccloud, @casualladyinternet, @d34drapunzel, @noctemys, @whitejxsmine, @so6, @franzelt, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @marlene-the-witch, @thestudiouswanderer, @lyjen, @rideacowb0y, @weasleybuns, @dal-light, @mariatpwk, @dreammgc, @elysian-chaos, @breadbrobin, @poppyflower-22, @halfofagayallofaqueer, @battleraven, @amarokofficial, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @poppyflower-22, @madnessinwrighting, @ponyboys-sunsets, @circus-of-thoughts, @empresspenguin18, @mediocrestuff, @stonksman8, @alanis-altair, @thefandomplace, @alohastitch0626, @the-royal-paintbrush, @just-here-for-ff, @whos6claire, @jodiereedus22, @be-lla-vie, @despoinapav05, @arianyo, @willowpains, @geekmom3, @dark-academia-slut, @aeslenya, @directioner5life, @notjustsomeblonde, @osteopsycho, @travelingmypassion, @tiana76, @angelhxneyy, @princessatoru, @urlocalgeek, @lonelywitchv2, @bookloverfilmoholic, @taerae515

please note that if your username is struck through, i was unable to tag you!

#kaz brekker #crooked kingdom #six of crows #six of crows duology #kaz brekker x reader #kazzle dazzle #soc kaz #soc fanfic #soc inej #soc nina #nina zenik #jesper fahey #soc jesper #shadow and bone #the grishaverse #shadow and bone season 2 #sab season 2 #grishaverse fanfic #freddy carter #the crows #inej ghafa #inej my queen #midnights but make it kaz brekker #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker x you #matthias helvar #soc matthias #wylan van eck #soc wylan #sab season two

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Supine Bound

Gale x F! Tav

18+ tension, crossed signals, embarrassment, voyeurism (m&f), masturbation (m&f), restraint, body caging, dirty talk, roughness, domGale, oral (m&f), improper use of mage hand, Gale being a menace, some silliness a lil tenderness ayo, porn w/o plot

With Tav believing she's crossed a boundary of intimacy twice with Gale, she invites the wizard to get some retribution...

Masterlist

-

"Gods, I'm not that short." Tav planted her hands on her hips, giving Gale a mock glare.

"Notice that you had to look up to give me that withering look." The warm tease in his voice making her heart flutter involuntarily.

"Should I call over Halsin to give some input?" She trilled, smiling wider at the narrow in his eyes.

"Oh pish posh," He waved his hand impassively. "That elf is an outlier. It would be academically irresponsible to include him in our data."

"Our data, huh?"

His cheeks flushed the slightest pink.

Tav raised her eyes in memory, giving a puzzled look.

"I don't even remember applying for a grant to fund our research..."

He let out a small bark of laughter, her smile curling triumphantly at making him break first.

"Oh, there is a very neat magic trick people my stature can perform. Wanna see?"

He nodded, giving her an bemused smile.

She leaned down conspiratorially, him following her down. Crouching down quickly, she angled her shoulder under his hips, standing and flipping him onto her back.

"Up you go!" She cheered, bracing the hinge of his hip with one hand. Starting to walk through camp at a jaunty pace.

He laughed loudly, a joyful burst. Going mock limp as she trotted him around their small world.

"Oh, good catch!" Karlach called through a mouthful of apple. "Wizards are slippery! Hold on tight!"

"Ew, why...?" Astarion reeled.

"Guys, I'm trying to make a delivery, do you mind?" Tav huffed, putting a hand on her waist and popping her hip out.

"Of course, of course. Boy deliveries are very time sensitive, don't want him to spoil." Karlach nodded sagely.

Gale's giggle against Tav's back making her bottom lip curl to not smile.

Astarion put down his mending with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh! Hells, I've gotta go! He's getting unruly!" Tav's voice spiking in fear as Gale kicked his feet happily.

Tav took very careful steps to the turquoise tent, the night song of insects rising in the reeds. Fire crackling low, cleared plates piled, ready to be river tended.

"And here you are." She crouched down, attempting to ease him by the waist off of her shoulder. Gale only going fully limp.

"Oh... oh! The spell!" Tav cried, letting her body slowly crumple under him. "Gravity! it's getting so heavy!"

He giggled against her as she slid into a heap on the ground. His forehead resting above her shoulder, her arms thrown above her head, staring up at the newly woken stars.

"We're just going to lay like this, huh?" She sighed.

"The spell takes a while to wear off, I'm afraid."

She smiled, letting out a contented breath with the closing of her eyes. Enjoying his weight on her and the slow calm of night for a moment. His arm naturally encircling her head, face turned into her hair. Heart fast and breath slow.

She peeked one eye open, feeling his stare.

"Yes?" She whispered in a playful lilt. Turning her head to look at him.

His wide pupils held her still. A single breath shared between them as his eyes searched her, lips fallen open. Their turned faces unreasonably close, air softened with anticipation. All she would have to do was tilt up.

The haze overrode her better judgment, and she lifted her chin. Lips sliding into his in a soft part.

Her mind caught up with her mouth, pulling back in shock. He had very kindly turned her down twice now, the second time just last night at the tielfing party.

"Oh Gods, I'm so sorry." She rose up on elbows, face heating.

His wide eyes followed her as she stood, chest radiating a gauzy purple under his robe.

"I'm- I'm gonna go." She patted her thighs anxiously. "Sorry, again."

Turning on her heel, she grimaced as she strode away from him.

Gods. Way to take it too far.

-

Tav paced in angry circles.

"Fuck Mystra."

"You're going to dig a hole in the ground." Shadowheart raised her eyebrow at her rage loop.

"The fuck is her problem?" Tav continued on, waving her arms. "It's not enough to disgrace him, exile him, then leave him to fend for himself with the fucking orb that you know how to fix! Then you ask him to detonate it? Just all casual, no biggie?"

"Darling, we all agree with you." Astarion drawled, leaning back on the log. "But do you know who isn't as convinced?"

He tipped his head towards the distant point of Gale's tent.

"Maybe spew some of that venom where it's needed."

"You're right." Tav slowed, planting her hands on her waist. Taking a huffing breath out.

"I often am." Astarion sighed, flopping back on the length of the log. "And you can convince him to come start dinner. Unless you want to be supped from early tonight."

"Oh, I could start dinner! How hard can it be?"

"Karlach, that's a very kind offer. But let's see about Gale first." Wyll encouraged.

Tav waved her hand in acknowledgment, heading towards the outer loop of camp.

She took several deep breaths, knowing that coming in hot might just dig his feet in farther. Afterall, this was a diety he had devoted his life to, of course he thinks her stupid fucking idea is founded in some wisdom.

Low pulsing violet light emanated from the seat of his closed tent. Tav bit her lip in concern, ears naturally piqued for any sounds of distress. Picking up the sound of muffled hard breathing.

Her hand hovered over the flap of his tent.

If he was suffering, would he even tell any of them?

A pained whine broke her of her apprehension, lifting the opening.

He was laid back on blankets, head angled back. The underside of his jaw, chest arched up. Hand clamped over his mouth, eyes rolled up into his head.

Her wide eyes traveled down where his velvet shirt was bunched up around his ribs. Sleep trousers pushed down to the seat of his thighs. Bare hips writhing and thrusting up into-

His head lifted and caught eyes with her.

"Ah!" She yelped, turning quickly, pressing her back to the tent wall.

She groaned quietly, doubling over and pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. A fruitless effort, that moving image was embedded for good.

"All the gods above and below, I am so sorry!" She stamped her foot, embarrassment spiking the threat of mortified tears.

There was only a low chuckle and the sounds of rearranging fabric behind her.

"It is not funny." She hissed, ducking her head around to give him an incensed glare. Getting only louder, snorting laughter.

"Cosmically? It's quite funny. Given the subject of my imagining."

Her cheeks heated at that, sure she had misconstrued his meaning.

"This has happened too many times." She sighed, shaking her head.

Ducking back around fully to level her gaze at him. "You need to get even with me."

"Even?" He gave her a confused but warm smile.

"Yes. I've got too many violations under my belt. It's your turn to do something mortifying to me."

"Interesting..." A mischievous smile spread across his face.

"Don't tell me what it is." She held her hand up preemptively. "Just decide and do it when the time is right."

"And nothing is off the table?" His eyes glinted.

"Go wild. I'll do whatever you ask."

Tav immediately wanted to walk that back, but bit the inside of her cheek.

"Excellent. And Tav..."

Her eyes met his.

"Thank you for checking on me. Truly. You're a guiding star in these dark times."

Tav's voice wavered in her throat into a muffled squeak. Giving him a nod instead.

"Goodnight, Gale."

-

It had been a tenday since their arrangement had been made, and she had fully forgotten about it. Too many events under their collective belts, battles won and grueling progress made towards overtaking Moonrise.

Everyone gathered around the fire, passing bowls and talking around full mouths. Cricket song in the tall grass. The ever-present oppressive air of the Shadowlands lessened just slightly by good company and filled bellies.

Tav had been sitting with their newest addition, Minthara. She naturally stayed back from the gathered camp, but Tav found her conversation very stimulating. She was tough but fair, giving harsh but insightful observations on anything they spoke on.

"What do you think of Gale?" Tav offered, her mortifying displays coming back in a slow creeping blush up her neck.

"The wizard?" Minthara gave that low chuckle she was prone to. "What about him should I find noteworthy? The fool hardy ambition and unconscious death wish is hardly unique to wizards of his caliber."

"Can't argue with that." Tav relented with a sigh. "He's very sweet when you give him the chance. I've grown quite fond of him."

"Yes, that has been obvious." Minthara lifted her glass to her lips, raising one eyebrow at Tav.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Tav mock huffed. Giving her a small smile.

"Why haven't you bedded him yet?"

Tav nearly spat out her food, coughing into her hand. Minthara giving her a few solid thumps on the back.

"Thats... that's hardly..."

"You don't strike me as inexperienced. But perhaps I am mistaken." Minthara mused.

"Or perhaps the wizard is. That seems likely, with the way his eyes follow you around camp."

"They do not." Tav grumbled, turning her eyes down.

"I have my own eyes, abbil." Minthara stated. "And they do not deceive me. That lovesick look is unmistakable."

She gave another low chuckle. "He's doing it right now."

Tav raised her eyes just slightly, catching Gale's in her peripheral. Whipping her eyes back towards her Drow friend. Minthara raising both eyebrows now, giving a knowing smirk.

"Either bed the wizard or put him down like a sick dog. It's a kindness to put him out of his misery."

Tav laughed, though she likely wasn't joking.

She reached out to take Minthara's empty bowl, walking up the way to the fire.

"And how was it?" Gale offered, smiling at her as she approached.

"Oh, delicious as always. You truly are magical making a meal with what we scrounge up." Tav set the two empty bowls with the others to be washed, bending over.

A hand ran from thigh up over her backside.

It was over so quickly she wasn't entirely sure she hadn't imagined it. Popping her head up and looking around in a fluster.

Gale raised a confused eyebrow. "You okay? Something bite you?"

"I'm okay, just... ah, nothing." She shook her head. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty tired, I might turn in early tonight."

Fingers trailed up the curve of her spine, splaying out across her ribs.

She spun around, finding only gnarled trees.

"You know what, maybe I will too. I might not be all there tonight." She turned back to him to level an apologetic look.

"Of course." He smiled graciously. "I'm confident you'll find rest at some point tonight."

"Here's hoping." She sighed. "Have a lovely night, Gale."

"Oh, I will." He made to walk away then paused, turning as if remembering something.

"Thank you for saying I'm sweet. I'm very fond of you too."

Tav could only nod, pink fluster reaching her cheeks.

-

Tav lay awake in her tent, the damned wizard smothering all other thought. The earnestness of his teasing reaching under her skin.

She pressed her pillow into her face and hit her heels against the ground in frustration. The pool of desire in her pelvis full, heavy and insistent.

She tossed the pillow down at her side and admitted defeat with a sigh. Hand coming down to snake under her waistband. Meeting her already piqued clit, fingers leading down in slow circles. Gathering her pooling slick up over it.

Leaning her head back, she got lost in her own touch. The rising pleasure in her body pulling her along, fingers moving to the unconscious demand. Pushing her sleep pants down to her knees, kicking them the rest of the way off. Letting out a soft moan, fingers working faster. The circling orgasm pulling tighter. All sounds and sights floating away.

Imagining his hands on her, those wide skilled hands. How they would feel climbing her body, grasping and pulling. What the stubble of his beard would feel like between her legs.

The hands splayed along her thighs, pressing them open. Her legs laying flat against her bedroll.

It wasn't until the hands inexplicably didn't dissipate inside her imagination that she opened her eyes.

Gale stared down at her, arms locked out straight, leaning down on her knees.

"Don't stop." He commanded.

"What?" She squeaked, trying to pull back to cover herself, but he wouldn't budge.

"You said I could request anything. We'll, I'm requesting that you don't stop."

She swallowed, the realization of what was about to unfold rising up her already bothered pelvis.

Leaning back, she let her hand return to her center slowly. Her embarrassment making the pleasure she pulled from herself feel even more salacious. Constraining her face in a turn of her head.

"Come now, that's hardly fair." He clicked his tongue, gently pulling her face back to center. "I've been so wanting to see you enjoying yourself."

Her eyes opened into an incredulous glare. Frustration pushing into her arousal, needling her hand faster.

"Well, you've had a funny way of showing it." She huffed.

He got quiet for a moment, then slid both knees onto the inside of her thighs. Leaning up to be level with her, balancing on forearms around her head. His weight holding her legs splayed open.

"I have wanted you so unbearably it has numbed my mind."

His warm voice pulling low into his chest, he continued.

"All of my thoughts have been encircled by you, threading through every tortuous night. My skin hungers for your touch, and no distraction I have tried has soothed the strain."

His face drew ever nearer as he spoke, shoulders lowering him down to her.

"All of your intrusions have proven to have only stoked the flame higher. Much higher."

He was breathing against her lips now, so near it made her eyes flutter up into her lids. The teasing making her feel delirious. Hips starting to writhe fruitlessly against the hold of his knees.

He looked down at her efforts, her stomach twitching in jolts. Her eyes following down, seeing the strain in his trousers above her.

"I want to touch you so terribly." He groaned, eyes lidded. "But I want you to cum first."

She bit back a moan, eyes desperate on his. Feeling like she was going blind with need, bucking her hips.

He leaned forward, cupping the side of her head as he rumbled directly into her ear.

"I cannot resist you much longer. You are so beautiful like this, it's driving me mad. Cum for me, I need you to feel you on my tongue."

She yelped out a moan, his mouth coming down to muffle hers. Her whimpers pushing into his lips. Orgasm crashing over her in high waves, swells rising up through her. He pushed her sleep shirt up to her clavicle. Leaning back to watch her ribcage rise, breasts heaving. Moaning at the sight low in his throat.

She grasped the front of his robes, pulling his face back to hers.

"I came, now please tou-"

His mouth smothered back over hers hungrily. Breathing hard through his nose, gasping against her lips. Pulling up on her waist, her thigh, his hands warm and insistent.

The pull between them was demanding, primal. Tangling and burning with need. Desire barely contained inside of bodies, ready to spill over in a boil.

She tried to reach for his sleep pants but was caught by her wrists, an unknown hand slamming them down pinned above her head.

She looked above and saw a mage hand.

"You bastard, that's what that was." She gasped out when she could get a breath in.

"It is so wonderful to tease you." He chuckled, head starting to lower down her body. Cupping her ribcage reverently as he kissed along her neck, her clavicle. Nose drawing a small circle around her nipple.

"You blush such a heavenly pink." He sighed, kissing along the underside of her breast.

She bit back a moan, coming out as a needy sqeak. Arching her ribcage up to meet his mouth.

"Gods, I want to drink you." He growled, cupping her breast and dragging his tongue up over her peak.

She writhed underneath him, wrists straining against the hand still pinning her down.

He lapped at the hard nub, flicking it with his tongue before enveloping it into his mouth. Undulating his tongue in a warm wave.

Her legs rose up into a curl, groans as quiet as she could manage leaving her. His mouth pulling pleasure from her in winding handfuls. The sensation pushing her hips down into an unconscious rocking, the ache in her pelvis her only driving force.

He cupped both breasts and ran his tongue between them, breathing labored warm air over her skin. A trail of saliva connecting the two peaks.

"Gods, Gale! Please!" She whispered, hips rising in desperation.

"No, I am taking my time with you." He stated, the mage hand tightening on her wrists. Licking up a line on the underside of her breasts, watching the flesh mold to his tongue, then bounce back into place with a satisfied groan.

He finally pulled his cock free of his trousers with a relieved breath, settling back down onto his belly. Reaching under her, taking both of her hips into his hands and pulling them flush to his mouth without warning. Tongue crashing into her clit with a vengeance.

She barely stifled the cry in her throat into a soft whimper. Hips already canting against his jaw.

One of his hands snaked around and pulled up on her pubic bone, giving him full access. Latching onto her clit and undulating his tongue in that same wave. Slurping and suckling, hand shooting out to hold her thighs open as they tried to clamp around his head.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" She whined, pelvis trying to twist away. The pleasure so intense it bordered on unbearable. His near delirious enthusiasm rising it tenfold. Grinding his hips in time on the tent floor. Staring up at her, eyes dark with intensity.

She could feel her second orgasm about to unravel her. Arms still pinned above her and legs pinned open beneath her, she had nothing to hold onto but his eyes. Hers straining up in pleasure, realization of how intense this was about to be washing over her.

She begged out under her breath.

"Oh Gods, I need you to gag me or I'm going to scre-"

The mage hand left her wrists and pushed two fingers inside her mouth.

She writhed and jerked, orgasm ripping through her. Tearing through her relentlessly, biting down on the mage fingers to silence herself. The pads of its fingers massaging her tongue while his tongue below still pulled and sucked. Bringing her higher and higher, determined to collapse her entirely. Her hips rising in the same plea to escape, his mouth only rising with her. Chasing her up the bedroll.

"Ah! Stop, stop, stop." She breathed when the overstimulation got too much, a laugh on the edge of her words. Pushing his head back gently.

"Too much?" He hushed, a twinkle in his eyes.

She nodded, body going limp. Puddled out under him, eyes glazed and struggling to focus. Head lolling while her breath tried to gather back in her chest.

He rose back up over her body, palming over himself. Laying on his side, he watched her. Wiping his mouth of her arousal and spreading it over his cock.

She reached out again, but he directed her hand up to his cheek instead.

"Just let me watch you, the image of you like this has been tormenting me."

Her body fallen open, cum dripping down her backside. Too fucked out to feel bashful, she stared back at him with lust blown eyes.

His breath hitched in his chest, free hand running reverently over her hip, her belly. Eyes lost in her in awed desire. Hand pumping faster and faster. Face starting to crumple in pleasure.

Seeing the first telltale twitches of his hips, she shot forward. Pulling him entirely into her mouth and sucking down hard. Bobbing her head and opening her throat.

He collapsed back onto haunches, hips rising in jolts. Hand winding into her hair, crying out against his cupped hand. Tremoring hard as his cum fired in waves down her throat.

Using the last of her strength, she sucked mercilessly. Gripping his hips still as he squirmed. Only when he started whimpering did she release him with a pop of her mouth. Falling back boneless on her bedroll.

"There." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I have the upper hand again."

He collapsed down next to her. Both their breath a heady miasma around them.

"Oh?" He laughed, voice strained with lost breath. "Do you now?"

"Mm-hmm," She hummed, turning onto her side and flipping him by the waist to wrap around his back.

"Now you've gotta get even with me again." She nuzzled into his back, arms winding around his front. Hands cupping his chest.

He sighed out, body going limp inside her hold. His hands lacing over hers tenderly. Murmuring out something she couldn't catch when her legs cradled up under his.

"What?" She hushed, kissing the curve of his shoulder.

"Hold me. Closer, please."

She wound her arms tighter, palm rising up over the burned circle. Fingers smothering the purple light. His fingers winding into hers desperately. As if he didn't hold on tightly enough, she would drift away from him.

"Shhh.." She pulled one of her hands behind him. Scratching gently along his back.

He tremored at that, going limp again. Bowing his back unconsciously.

She smiled, reminded of a cat. Nearly expecting him to start purring.

His breath slowly evened out, curling up fetal. Her body following him, encircling into his curl. A deep sleep seemed to take him, a soft snore moving in and out of his throat.

"Sweet, sweet man." She sighed, kissing the edge of his jaw. Seeing the side of his mouth curl up in a sleeping smile.

~

#dom gale... release me dom gale #i probably could have made this a two part but ehhh #gale x tav #gale smut #bg3 smut #screenshot by @druizard #lyrics by: bury you - ari abdul

[hey-august]

You're coming in… you're coming close

😌🍃 This is a continuation of Close your eyes, just settle, settle, just with a different title.

The first part was originally a one-shot (and could still be read as such), so this part ended up with more plot and less prose. Hopefully the overall tone carried through. (tbh, i struggled with that so much.)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Word count: ~3.5k ...more than double the first one 🙃 Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, partaking in the devil's lettuce 🍃, insertion sex, jacking off, facial, manual stimulation, a lil bit of an angsty fight A/N: Here's the opening line that I first wrote and discarded: "The slivered moon was high and so was Buggy."

Edit: Huuuuge amazing wonderful thanks to @be-not-afraid-gg for this suggestion!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

Title from "Great Romances of the 20th Century" by Taking Back Sunday

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The night is dark and full of creaks and groans from the ship listing in the slow rolling waves. Footsteps shuffle across the wood floor, adding to the ambiance. Buggy walks slowly, with bare feet tucked into untied boots, and moving in time with the subtle swells.

His hazy mind drifts in circles around the one idea that set his body in motion. A thought that had seeped from his head, down into his mouth, and settled on his tongue. There’s an absence under the taste of smoke and fire. An emptiness that calls for something flavorful.

Lost in the cyclone of thoughts, the illuminated sign of life doesn’t register until Buggy steps into the brightly lit kitchen. What he assumed was a beacon luring him towards his destination, was actually the mark of a haven for late night cravings. A haven you had already founded.

You’re leaning on a counter, midway through a bite of toast, and eyes wide at the unexpected company. Red eyes that match his.

“Sorry, didn’t think anyone would be here,” Buggy stammers, spacing out and forgetting that he’s the captain of the ship. 

Anxiety bubbles in his chest, turning over the hunger that brought him to the kitchen, and mixing it with a different desire. The warm scent of cinnamon joins the turmoil in his body. Buggy nervously rubs his jaw, the stubble scratchy against his bare hand.

“Smells good.”

You finish the interrupted bite and push a small plate towards the door. “Want some?”

Buggy walks over and studies at the slice of toast you offered. Scattered islands of cinnamon and sugar sink into pools of butter. The lush mixture spreads across the landscape, an impression of how it would feel in his mouth. Buggy swallows the excess moisture his mouth is creating in anticipation and nods. You nudge the plate closer, creating a soft rasp as the ceramic slides against wood.

It’s messy and flavorful. Soft and crunchy. Sweet and lingering. The flavored butter coats his tongue, the heaviness carrying away the taste of resin and ash. He glances at your glistening lips and wonders if they’re also coated in sugar and cinnamon. The thought is chased away with a dry bite of uncoated crust.

“I’m glad I washn’t the only one in the mood for a late night sch-nack.”

You stifle laughter as the remark is delivered through a mouthful of half-chewed food. Buggy cracks a grin as the restrained joy still finds a path to your eyes. Feeling a familiar twist in his stomach, he shoves the rest of the cinnamon toast in his mouth and hopes the food will tamp down the ache.

“D’you do this often?” Buggy asks.

It’s no secret that some of the crew has particular hobbies. While Buggy’s interests sometimes overlap with his crew’s, he prefers to indulge in a select few on his own. This feels different, though. He already partook in privacy, leaving behind the ash and resin before lumbering to the kitchen.

“Sometimes…you?”

“Sometimes.”

The silence following the confessions was infused by the cinnamon - warm and comforting. This wasn’t a joint activity, it was just two individuals in a concurrent moment. A shared experience that would be repeated the following week. And the week after. And the next, as well. It became a routine.

The evening sessions begin independently until the smoke carries you both to the kitchen. Together you fill the room with laughter borne from empty giddy thoughts, while filling your stomachs with whatever you could get your sticky fingers on. 

Grilled cheese sandwiches, where more cheese is eaten in anticipation, than put between the bread slices. Instant noodles that Buggy prepares when he arrives first. Apple slices started a playful argument when you say they taste better with a bit of salt, while Buggy disagrees and slathers his portion in obscene amounts of peanut butter.

One unscheduled night you show up at the captain’s quarters, wearing a sheepish expression and carrying a plate of buttered toast coated liberally in cinnamon sugar. Under the chill of sobriety, Buggy’s chest rapidly fills with drumbeats. There’s no heady fog to dampen the sound, so it reverberates in his head until your voice cuts through.

“I wanted a snack and thought that maybe you’d want some too.” 

His stomach turns, flipping so aggressively that he nearly feels nauseous. The soothing smell of spices drifts into the room, ready to confront the turmoil in Buggy. It talks to him with a soft murmur, saying this is no different than the nights in the kitchen. Fantasies are just fantasies. 

Finally, Buggy opens the door wider as his answer, welcoming this reality. Your eyes are red, and so are your cheeks as you enter the room, bringing a new addition to your weekly routines. 

These extra sessions happen without planning. Any night could be enhanced by a knock at the door from a giddy visitor bringing temptation. 

The first time Buggy went to your room, he over prepared for the trip. His body arrived before his mind. His thoughts trailed slowly and lazily, not making any effort to catch up until the time was right. Until he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a carpet of smoke. 

Leaning against your bed, Buggy watched the small flame illuminate your face and listened to your deep breathing. When you looked over and caught him staring, all he could do was offer you a dopey grin and a bag of chips.

The late night rendezvous continue to happen at least once a week. A reliable respite, no matter how long the ship is at sea. If one person burns through their stash too quickly, there’s always some to share. What started as individual moments that eventually collided, turned into shared joints, passed between fingers and lips.

One night finds Buggy sitting in his usual spot on the floor of your room. His back is pressed against the bedframe and his head rests on the edge of the mattress you’re laying on. The hair from his ponytail is close enough to tickle your hand.

“We should stop doing this.”

In the broken silence, the words sound wrong and don’t fit in Buggy’s head. Stop sitting quietly? Stop smoking so much? Stop clearing out the kitchen? With eyes still closed, he hums a questioning response.

The bed shifts as you sit up. “We should stop whatever this is.”

Craning his neck, Buggy looks to see exactly what you’re talking about. You’re already staring at him, eyes searching his face for understanding that won’t be found.

“This,” you repeat, gesturing between you two. “Whatever we’re doing…I think it should- I don’t think we should-”

“Okay.” The response explodes out of Buggy’s mouth in an attempt to stop the painful words coming from yours. 

You want to stop all of this. Stop sitting in silence with him. Stop smoking with him. You don’t want him around anymore.

Even through the brain fog, your voice rings clear. His mind clings to your request, squeezing it and refusing to let go, no matter how much it stings. Buggy nods along to the replay in his head before pushing himself up.

With a hand on the doorknob, Buggy pauses. Questions tumble inside the pirate, fighting against each other in the haze and growing to take space from the weaker ones. He squeezes the brass orb. The metal is cool against his bare hand. One question takes advantage of the calm feeling and slips out.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Buggy stares at the door before him. He doesn’t turn around.

“Why,” he repeats mockingly slowly. “Why do you want to stop now? Why did you put up with this for so long? Were you just putting up with me?”

Buggy’s voice rises and cracks as the questions overflow. His hold on the doorknob tightens in an attempt to keep himself grounded.

In the following silence, Buggy sucks on the venom of his words. They were bitter. Not strong enough. But also too strong. They taste of regret and all he wants to do is burn them away. Douse them in alcohol and set them alight until he’s too numb to taste anything.

“Is that what you think?”

The bed creaks as you stand up and Buggy spins to face you.

“Obviously. I thought this was fun. I thought we were having a good time, but clearly I was wrong. You don’t like doing this,” he spits. “I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Of course you weren’t having fun with me.”

“I am- I was. I do like this.” Breaking through his monologue, you keep his attention and step closer. “That’s why we need to stop. I like y- I like this too much.”

You stiffen as the confession falls out. The words are out and can’t be retrieved. There’s no room in your mouth to take them back anyways, so you release the rest of what you want to say.

“It’s hard to keep having fun with you when I want more.”

Buggy’s silent. His mouth opens and closes, but he doesn’t make a sound. He stares at you, waiting for a punchline he knows isn’t coming. Your eyes aren’t glistening with laughter, but with something else.

“You want…more. What-” he swallows thickly, “do you want?”

The air in the room is heavy. You look away, following trails of fading smoke, before returning to Buggy’s expectant face. And lower, to his lips. The face paint is long faded, leaving behind a subtle stain. Your eyes flick back up just as he licks his lips. Those lips.

“I want you.” Your gaze moves down again. “I want all of you.”

Buggy’s body moves before he realizes it, reaching for you as soon as you finish speaking. Your lips taste like cinnamon. There’s a hint of ash on your tongue. You’re delicious. 

His hands cradle your face, holding you close so he can continue to relish a treat he’s thought about countless times before. You stumble back slightly, pushed by his greed. Hands clasp around his wrists, holding yourself steady and keeping his touch in place. 

Neither of you are sure who pulled back first. It took a few tries before you successfully detangled from one another. A question hangs in the space between your bodies - do you still want more?

You sit on the bed and pat the spot next to you. The muffled sounds are attractive and inviting. Yes, you want more. You both do. Buggy sits next to you. Following the movement of the sinking mattress, he leans against you and lets his head fall onto your shoulder. 

His mind lags behind his body, continuing past the arc of his body and bypassing the containment of his head. Buggy’s thoughts pour through his skull, rushing so quickly that he can hardly tease them apart. Mixed within the surge are visions seen only in the depths of privacy. The false memories of your choked moans and flushed face rise to the top and his dick follows suit.

Even with a hazy mind, he wants to pay attention. To give attention to you and to the swelling between his legs. Shifting against you, Buggy presses his face against your neck, pushing his nose into you. You’re warm and smell good. Your skin is damp. He parts his lips and tastes the salt coating your body. While he wasn’t one for salt on apples, he enjoys the taste here. 

The extra moisture left by his sloppy kisses is cooled by his heavy breathing. The change in temperature pulls a hint of a moan. Buggy’s cock twitches in response, begging for relief. Instead of giving in, his hand moves to touch your thigh. Voices tell him to squeeze. To grab you. To delve deeper. He settles for running a shaky hand up and down your leg.

The touch does little to soothe his need, to satiate his desire. The strain in his pants pulses and aches. Buggy grunts against your neck as he palms his erection. It’s so hard, it’s nearly painful. He whines as he realizes there isn’t enough give in the fabric of his pants to properly wrap a hand around himself.

His mind is quickly brought back to you with a click and the scrape of flint. You inhale deeply. The moment lasts forever as he watches little bits of flame escape and float away. Once your lungs are full, you pull Buggy’s face to meet yours.

Lips grazing each other, you exhale slowly. The smoke seeps from your mouth into his. Tendrils escape and dance up before he inhales your kiss. It’s slow and delicate. Hot, but not fiery. Buggy takes all that you give until his head is spun into cotton. Until he’s full of you.

A hand pushes his away to feel his desire. A heavy twitch against your touch conveys how badly he wants you. How desperately he needs you. A whimper escapes from his empty mouth when you squeeze slightly. A sound he repeats when you pull away entirely.

“Take off your clothes,” you tell him as you start doing the same.

The sound of pants being undone and falling to the ground isn’t new, but he feels the soft thumb reverberate in his heart. A heaviness that pulls him into action. Leaning back, Buggy fumbles with his belts and pants before scooting out of them and kicking off his boots in one motion. As he’s working on his vest, you peer over your shoulder and say he could keep that on. The softness in his request makes him even harder.

A curl of smoke catches Buggy’s attention. The wrapped ember glimmers and winks as its essence dances overhead, joining the rest of the heady fog. You pick it up, creating a connection that allows Buggy’s eyes to drift over your naked body.

Sun-kissed shoulders give way to your bare chest and soft stomach. He looks lower and lower, his hand following the path on his own body until he’s fondling and caressing himself in admiration of you. You’re better than any treasure map he’s seen - worthy of intimate study until he knows every curve, every valley and peak, every nook, absolutely everything until he’s committed you to memory.

Time flows inconsistently and Buggy’s not sure how long you let him touch himself while simply looking at you.

“Sorry, you’re-you’re just…wow,” he stammers awkwardly.

“Just wow,” you repeat with the smile that he’s only ever seen during the nightly sessions. “I didn’t see you as a man of few words.”

“Well, they say actions speak louder than words.” The teasing remarks ease any tension in the room. 

With legs still hanging over the edge of the bed, Buggy leans back on his elbows. The movement allows his vest to fall open and expose his chest, while his thick erection rests against his lower stomach. You approach slowly and straddle his lap, finding a perfect seat on his thighs. Your ass is soft and warm against his skin.

You offer him the still burning ember, which he accepts. His body moves obediently, unable to do more than go with the flow of the evening. All of his senses are alight and high. It would be overwhelming if it wasn’t with you. Closing his eyes, Buggy takes another drag.

Meanwhile, he feels you drag yourself on his body. You position his sticky member against yourself, rubbing his leaky tip along the way. He cracks his eyes just as you slowly sink down. You gasp, just as he’s imagined, when his flared head stretches you open.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, releasing the smoke in his lungs. 

A floating hand drops the burning herbs in the ashtray on the bedside table and then finds a spot on top of your thigh. His thumb rubs soft encouragement as your body adapts to his size.

“Y-you’re doing so good.”

Your body reacts to his praise, becoming intoxicatingly tight. The pressure from your legs outside of his increases. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, kneading out feelings of sensitivity as you sit flush on his cock.

Buggy is captivated by your expression - both focused and unfocused. Knitted brows caught between concentration and loss of control. Hazy eyes that flutter, unsure if they want to be open or closed. Your bottom lip stuck between your teeth.

“S’big. Feels…feel really full.” The breathlessness behind your comment sends Buggy to the clouds. 

Do you feel so full that you can hardly breathe? Does his cock take up that much space in your body? He throbs in your heat, straining against the confinement.

“You said you wanted more. Is it too much? M-more than you expected?” Buggy teases.

You let out a weak chuckle and rest your head on his shoulder. “No, I can do this.”

Committed to taking all you want, you start rolling your hips. Slowly at first, with Buggy’s floating hands following your movement. You grind harder as his grip increases. His fingers alternate between digging into your flesh and massaging out the bruising touches. Focused on staying within the boundaries of his restraint, Buggy doesn’t catch the sound of your voice the first time. 

“Help,” you mumble again against his neck, “please.” Pushing yourself back, you look Buggy in the eyes. “Fuck me.”

If he didn’t always stave off his orgasms multiple times when handling his own business, Buggy would have exploded inside of you just then. Still, he would not be able to hold out much longer. 

Sitting up, his arms move to connect with his hands, wrapping you in his embrace. He spreads his legs further to brace himself. With one arm around your waist and the other crossing your back to your shoulder, he fucks you the way you asked for. The way your moans beg for. 

Buggy uses his hold to push you against his thrusts, burying his cock as deep as your body allows. But he wants more. He clings to you, pulling you closer to his chest, wanting to feel you everywhere. To continue having your lovely sounds brush past his ear, to have your hands threading his hair, to feel your body stick against his.

Floating in those thoughts, Buggy didn’t know how tight the tether holding his anchor was until it threatened to snap.

“S-shit, m’close. I’m gonna- fuck. Wh-where-” His movements falter along with his stutters.

The tension loosens slightly as you pull yourself off, but returns when you kneel between his legs. You wrap your hands around his cock, using the wet sex from both of your bodies to jack him off. Buggy struggles to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember every moment of this, rather than falling back into the fantasies he’s used to finishing too.

“O-open your mouth,” he begs.

You give him the most wonderful open-mouthed smile as you push out your tongue, eager for what’s next. A hold on your wrist pulls one hand down to cradle his balls. Your touch is gentle, following as his balls tighten and he falls over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Keep-keep going,” Buggy grunts as each stroke along his cock sends another jet of hot cum to cover your face and chest.

His orgasm directs your movements. As each pulse slows, so does the pumping, until the final one to ease the last few pearly drops onto your dripping fist. 

Ignoring his body’s cry for rest, Buggy pushes himself forwards and lets his trembling legs drop him to the ground. You ease back to give him space.

“C’mere, I’m going to make you feel so good,” he says in a shaky voice.

He advances until you’re laying on the wood floor. He hovers over you, trailing a hand along your body until it’s between your legs. Your gasp is captured by his mouth and more sinful sounds are coaxed by his tongue.

You still taste like cinnamon. There’s a hint of salt, again. Not from your sweat, but from his cum. Fuck, it’s good. His tongue pokes out of your mouth to swipe long your lips, seeking more of that combined taste. Meanwhile, your grasp at his wrist and grind against his hand.

Buggy follows your cues - rubbing, teasing, increasing pressure, going faster, easing up - whatever you want. He’ll do this for as long as you’d let him and he wants you to know. But when he tells you to take your time, it has the opposite effect. You whimper and cry out as you come to his touch.

“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job,” Buggy croons, carrying you through the wave, until it crests and you float back down.

You keep your eyes shut as you settle back into your body. You look wonderful. Dazzling. Breathtaking. Your chest is heaving and you’re coated in a sheen of sweat and strands of cum. His cum. His mark. A possessive fire lights in his chest.

“Just tell me whenever you want more,” Buggy says against your skin, pressing kisses to your shoulder and chest. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll take good care of you, promise.”

You laugh, seeing through the disguise of his kind ‘offer,’ to his own insatiable desire. The cooling liquid on your skin jostles with the movement, sending a shiver through your body. 

Buggy moves closer to you, wanting to share his warmth and feel more of yours. Always, to feel more of you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: Also, I'd like to draw attention to the end of "Great Romances of the 20th Century," since it fits so well:

I'm in your room Is this turning you on Am I turning you on? I'm in your room Are you turned on? I'm on the corner of your bed I'm thinking maybe Are you turned on? Are you turned on?

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #buggy x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Bro, infinite darkness Leon is plaguing my mind I’m being so fr rn. So my req is like DomInfiniteDarkness!Leon and like this reader who rlly sarcastic and bites back and shit like that and the plot is (porn 🫶 obvi) that he asks reader to ride his face (after a few days of sexual tension) and like she’s taken aback at first but then she’s like ‘he’s hot tho’ (not rlly I can’t think of a better response, u can choose) so she rides his face yeah, and he has this grip on her thighs that she can’t even try squirming away

And omg, there should be like this one part when he’s eating her and like she grips his hair and he goes feral and sucks harshly as a motion to continue the grip on his hair, also the stubble that he has should like graze her poussay and like she clenches bc of it and Leon notices 😮‍💨🤭🤭

Leon just gives pussy-eater vibes, is it jus me? 😭 anyways in not asking this anonymously bc I need this shit so bad

If u wrote anything similar, I’m sorry 😭 😭

Tyyyy ♥️♥️♥️🫶🫶🫶🫶

( I had to, he’s so fine)

ID Leon is a plague in my mind he never goes away. I was actually writing a request super similar to this so i hope the other person who requested this sees this!! I honestly don’t think it’s that good but i try my hardest FOR YOU GUYS. I made the reader plus size deal with it and if you hate it so much just block it out with your mind okay because i needed to write a lil something for me in this one. Sorry i haven’t been posting much writing i hit little blocks sometimes and feel like my writing sucks but nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix!

Disclaimer!!! This blog is 18+ only! If you are underaged please don’t interact with my posts thank you!!

mentions of afab slighty plus size reader x ID Leon!!

Warnings: Angsty kinda! Mentions of yelling, holding guns and close to death experiences. Leon forces reader to sit on his face, he’s kinda rough with her

word count: 2,826

Heavy. Your arm hanging from the metal that had been broken not even seconds before. Though you and Leon had far to many disagreements he was still your partner. Just the way his head tilted up and his hand gripped at your wrist you knew he was so angry that you would throw yourself so close to death just to save him. The metal beneath you made a loud creaking noise as you gripped at Leon's hand, your other arm folding over to pull him up onto the platform with you.

“You have a death wish?”

Leon yelled as he tried to carefully crawl up next to you as you let go of his arm. You leaned back on your arms, catching your breath, your eyes followed Leon standing up, his hand reaching down to help you off the floor.

“That must’ve really bruised your ego huh, kennedy.”

Mascara caked a bit under your eyes due to all the running and the tank of water exploding all over you. Your hips swayed side to side as you put your hand up waving goodbye to Leon, yelling something about how you’d see him next week.

——-

Leon’s jaw tightened watching your hips sway, the way your soaked shirt clung to your body. You were his rookie once, he trained you from the ground up. Once your promotion hit you never let Leon talk down to you again, and he hated it. Snarky comments about his aim, about the way he talks, how he looks in his suits.

His body screamed at him for relief, preferably whiskey. The bar was quiet and he couldn’t help but thank the god he didn’t necessarily believe in. His fingers traced over the rim of his glass in front of him. The man had too much trauma, a troubling past and current that just weighed on him so heavily that it made everything he does difficult.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Your silky voice snapped him from his day dreaming, his chin tilting down as his eyes traced every dip and curve of your body before he brought the glass to his lips, the liquid stinging his throat as he tilted the glass against his mouth. You wore that pretty black dress you had been wearing back in Grahamas office, but of course you had to change when actual shit started to go down. It hugs your hips and thighs so good, your plush legs crossing over each other as you sat down staring at your partner.

“You okay?”

For once you seemed genuinely concerned for him, Leon’s head nodding as the bartender poured more whiskey into his glass. Your delicate hand reaching forward and pulling the glass from him. Leon sighed turning himself to you in full, his hands reaching down to unbutton his jacket that held it to his center.

“What.”

A smirk quickly grew on your lips as you took HIS whiskey down your throat, your nose scrunching as you pushed the glass back to him. He was so tired of your bratty demeanor, it’s so unprofessional, so unclassy. Your hands reached out to fix the collar of his white button down as you still processed the burn of the alcohol.

“I worry about you sometimes.. Anyways, I was looking for you then Claire told me you were rambling about desperately needing a drink.”

Leon couldn’t help but admire the way your hands moved when you spoke, your eyes rolling at the mention of his small drinking problem.

“Drinking everyday is bad for your liver Leon.”

Leon groaned at your lecturing, his hands coming up to shush you.

“Fuck you..”

He grumbled, causing your mouth to drop open. Honestly you were offended. For once you were really concerned about the man which was rare from either of you because if you weren’t working, you were fighting.

“You’d like that too much, old man.”

———-

“Cmon Le.. Let's just have one more drink.”

Leon’s hands held at your waist as you stumbled into him. So while you lectured him for drinking so much you downed shots one after another right in front of him. Leon watched you ramble all night, the night he was supposed to spend for himself. After he pulled the both of you outside, you shivered pointing to your car, you hand grabbing for your keys in your purse.

“Okay bye Leon.”

You slurred as a whistle left Leon’s lips, his much taller frame coming in front of you to catch you yet again. Your hands nudged at him, trying to push him off you as you whined about it being cold and how you wanted to lay down. His hands worked at his jacket, shrugging it off and reaching for your arms and slipping it onto you.

“Stop talking and walk, let’s go, you're not driving.”

You were an idiot. Leon’s head shook in disappointment as the two of you began your walk down the street in silence. Even through your drunken fog you could see he was upset with you, your hands playing with the long sleeves of his dark blue suit jacket. He did have his moments where he got genuinely upset with you, like when you had accidentally stabbed him during training, or when you stepped in front of him and Chris during a mission to take the damage of a blown hit. You didn’t belong in this field and he had no idea how you even made it this far. He reached into his back pocket pulling his keys out before he pushed open the door, turning himself back to you.

“Inside.”

His palm rested against your lower back as you stepped inside his home, your eyes adjusting to the lighting change. Leon pulled the jacket off of you and threw it on his couch before he leaned on the counter staring at you. Standing in the middle of his living room. His annoyance was making you sober, playing with your fingernails as he glared at you. His back turned to you as he pulled a glass from his cabinet, turning on his faucet to pour water into it. You flinched as he slammed it in front of you.

“Drink.”

A laugh left your lips as you reached for the glass, taking a sip. But Leon didn’t seem to find it as funny as you did, his hands resting on the beautiful marble counter.

“Lots of one word responses tonight huh.”

You asked as you finished off the glass of water, your hand rubbing your stomach. He was in his own world, it was shocking he cared as much as he did.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

Leon mumbled as he pulled the glass into his sink, pointing to the blankets on the couch. Watching his figure walk down the hall made your skin crawl. You wanted to tell him how scared you were today, how you almost lost him. How he didn’t notice the bruise on your right shoulder from almost breaking your shoulder saving him.

————

A loud thump of a pillow hitting your face shook you from your sleep, your hand reaching for your gun as you sat up.

“Oh calm down. Let’s go Grahams called.”

Leon spoke as he handed you your shoes. You yawned, pushing your heels on before running out the door after him. It’s your favorite time of day, even though you have a violent hangover and it feels like you are going to puke with every step you take trying to catch up to Leon. Out of breath finally walking beside him you push your neck forward, nodding with that stupid smug look on your face that Leon hated.

“You clean up really nice Leon, what straightener do you use?”

How could you be so bitchy at eight in the morning, Leon’s eyes rolled, his lips pressed together as he got into his car, you not falling too short behind. Out of all the people in the department he didn’t understand how he ended up with you as his partner.

——-

“What?”

Leon stood next to you, him and the president sharing a glance as he sighed.

“Listen, Leon told me what happened yesterday and we decided collectively it would be best for you to go work for another agency.”

Your jaw grew tight, it felt like your teeth were being grinded down and your cheeks were flushed a deep red in anger. Your head snapped to Leon, your eyes squinting at him. How could he file a complaint about you saving his life? He is lying directly to the source but you had no proof he was lying which is what made the situation so much worse.

“Fuck you.”

Your words smacked Leon in the face, your body purposely shoving into his shoulder- and hard too. The sound of your heels clicking filled the hallway, your anger building in your chest as you stormed out the back door. This was your life purpose, being an agent. When your younger brother had died at the hands of Umbrella you tried working your way up to demolish it all. None of it mattered anyways because when you met Leon and Chris your life had completely changed. Even though you and Leon had too many unsolvable problems, you thought he still cared? Now you were left jobless, clueless. You looked down at your phone as it buzzed in your purse ‘Leon’ Flashing on the screen.

Stupid son a bitch.

————

Loud banging on your door woke you up, your eyes fixing on the clock on your nightstand. Three in the morning? Sitting up quickly you pulled your handgun from your dresser, tip toeing into the living room area of your flat.

“Who is it? I have a gun!”

When not at work your self defense skills were beyond poor, the banging stopped, the sounds of shuffling were heard before a small thud was heard against your door. Peering into the small eyehole of your door, there stood Leon. His eyes squeezed shut as he rested his palm against your door, you immediately swung the door open causing Leon to fix at his posture.

“Jesus christ Leon, what the fuck?”

Leon’s body pushed into your flat, slamming the door behind him. His hands grabbed at the gun in your hand, laying it on your counter. Your lower back smacked against your couch as he towered over you, his hands reaching down to hold at your face before his lips smacked into yours. No alcohol? Leons teeth nipped at your lip, pulling a low moan from you before you put your hands out pushing him away from you

“What are you doing?”

Leon’s chest heaved as he stared at you, you still looked so sleepy, your pretty nightgown resting so beautifully on your thighs. Your hair was a mess and now your lips were all puffy, he couldn’t fucking stand you. Leon’s hand ruffled through his hair as he looked down the hall to your room, your bed sheets a mess. Leon’s hand gripped your upper arm, walking down the hallway with you in his hands.

“Leon! Stop! Look at me”

Pretending you didn’t like the way he touched you was a joke, and you knew Leon could tell just by the way you reacted to his touch. A whine spilled from your lips as he shoved you down onto your silk sheets, your fingers reaching down to fix your nightgown that had flown up. The sound of Leon’s knees hitting the floor echoed through your ears, your upper body lifting as you watched him lick at his chapped lips. His head shook at the sight of your glistening folds in front of him, your thighs squeezing together as you stared down at the man. Stammers of protest left your lips as Leon’s fingers dug into the flesh of your meaty thighs, of course he was strong but you didn’t know he was this strong. A deep groan emitted from his chest as he lifted his hand, his tongue running across his fingers. His eyes finally met yours, his fingers slick with his spit rubbing small circles on your clit.

“Not so much to say now, huh?”

Oh. Your heart dropped as you remembered the paperwork you had sent in placing a complaint for him. Talking about how unprofessional he was, how he drinks on the job, and stuff about his personal life in general, your lips shook as your mouth opened, a moan ripping from your throat as Leon's thick fingers pushed into you, your hand reached down grabbing at his wrist but he pushed it off to side as he rose his way up your much smaller body. His other hand gripped at the inner part of your knee, locking it beside him as he pushed his fingers into you.

“God you piss me off, Grahams was so mad at me you know? But unlike you I didn't lose my job. You had me with your little comments but I swear if you try something like this again, I will do more than fuck you stupid, Do you understand me?”

When did Leon get the capability to be so fucking mean? Your head nodded up at him, his fingers drawing from you. Leon’s head shook in disapproval as he pushed himself off you, laying down on his back.

“Sit.”

Great. Back with the one word responses. You sat up confused as your hand reached down to cover your exposed self. Your gaze shifted to Leon who looked so pretty sprawled out onto your black silk sheets. His pupils were blown with lust.

“Sit?”

Laughter came with the question as Leon tilted his head to the side to admire you tilting your head back as you laughed at yourself. His hands tugged you towards him, making you lose your balance. “fucking brat.” He mumbled as he dragged you onto of him, your body sitting on his chest.

“Sit on my face. I know you’re not stupid.”

Leon spoke up to you as he pulled your hips towards his face but you pushing yourself back made his eyebrows raise.

“Leon, I'm going to kill you..”

You sat up slightly trying to take more weight off his chest. You weren’t the skinniest but Leon knew that you were always a bit self conscious about your weight, and the amount of times he has caught you has been extremely surprising. One look down at him changed your mind, he was looking at you as if you were the only person in the word, his tongue continuously licking over his lips, you let out a shaky breath before you brought yourself forward grabbing at the headboard. Hovering over his face still too scared but Leon’s hands reached up, pushing you down onto his face.

“Leon!- oh-”

Screams of worry turned into soft cries of pleasure, Leon’s hands reaching back to cup at your ass in his hands, somehow pushing you further into him. Your eyes finally fluttered open, staring down at Leon who seemed to be enjoying much more than he should. Never did you imagine Leon’s face so deep into you, your thighs pushing against his cheeks, the scruff on his face scraping your soft skin. His eyes opened hazily, staring up at you as he pushed his tongue into you, his hands still rocking you into him.

“Leon wait!-”

You cried out as a boiling burn started to build in your stomach, your body going to crawl off of him. Leon’s arms wrap around your thighs before you’re flipped over, his thighs laying over his shoulder as he laps at your folds on long strokes. Your hands reach down, grabbing at his soft hair. Leon moans out, vibrating your entire body as he uses his fingers to hold your folds open. He’s sucking at your clit so fucking good, your hands trying to push him away as he hold you’re hips down. He could have this view forever, the way you’re crying for him and the way you taste so good in his mouth. The amount of times Leon has wanted to force you down and suck on your pretty little clit was too many to count on his hand.

“Fuck!”

Your scream could probably be heard from all the flats around you as your orgasm flashed through your body, causing tears to drip from your eyes. A cry left your throat as Leon sat up, his fingers gently rubbing small heart shapes on your clit with a big smile on his face. He looked so beautiful, your slick covering his chin and his lips swollen from sucking at your folds for so long.

“Le.. s’ too much.”

Leon shook his head as he leaned down, sloppily pressing kissing on your lips, your own taste filling your mouth before you screamed out at the feeling of Leon once again pushing his long fingers into you.

“Jus’ give me five more of those pretty.. I'm enjoying this too much.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon infinite darkness #ID leon #LEON EATS PUSSY YUP

[bella-rose29]

April Fool's! ~ a DTH special

here's the first of (I'm sure) many Deck the Halls specials! in honour of April Fool's Day I figured it was the perfect occasion to write a lil something about our Schmoopies (who love to prank each other)

I did take a teeny bit of inspiration from @tangledinlove's heart eyes series (which if you haven't read then go now! also I recommend everything on love's master list) and wrote this special through the eyes of Holly, George, and Lucy!

edit: I should add in now that you probably could read this as a standalone? there are some references in there that might be teeny spoilers but tbh DTH is pretty formulaic so you could figure out the plot just from the summary 😂

Warnings: one or two swear words, and I think that's it? maybe a spoiler in the form of Holly being there?

Word count: 1.7k

anthony lockwood master list

enjoy the pictures of lockwood and Cameron being silly boys!

“Where is he?”

Holly looked up from where she sat at the kitchen table writing a shopping list to study the girl who stood in the doorway. Y/n had her hands on her hips and a frown on her face, and Holly felt sorry for whoever she was looking for. No doubt it was Lockwood, having forgotten an important anniversary or something, who was provoking the glare that had settled over Y/n’s features. 

“Lockwood?” Holly asked, returning her attention to the shopping list. She tapped the pencil against her temple while trying to think of what she was missing. 

“Yep. Have you seen him? I’ve got a bone to pick with him, the little shit.”

Holly snorted, then a thought popped into her head. She wrote down ‘tomatoes’ in neat print with her pen. “What’s he done this time?”

The other girl huffed and moved further into the kitchen, pulling open cupboards with a little too much force. “He’s pranked me! Hid all the toothbrushes in the house and now I can’t brush my teeth!”

“I- he did what?” That was such a random thing to do, and yet it was very perfectly Lockwood. “Why would he prank you?” Holly’s colleague stopped in her tracks, arms spread open with the cupboard handles in each hand, and slowly turned around. Instead of the initial frustration that had been on her face there was now confusion. 

“You… you do know what day it is… right?” Holly shook her head, brows creasing. “It’s April Fool’s Day? First of the month?” Realisation dawned, and she rushed to stifle her laugh when Y/n started glaring again. “Why is that funny? Lockwood hid all the toothbrushes, Holly! How do I brush my teeth now?! I had Weetabix this morning and my mouth feels all gross,” she complained. 

“I think he went out for a walk or something,” Holly answered, finishing up her list. “That was a while ago, though, so he should be back in a minute.” No sooner than she’d stopped talking the sound of the front door opening made both girls look in the direction of the hall. Shuffling noises followed while the person moved around, then footsteps grew louder and the kitchen door was pushed open to reveal the head of the company. 

Anthony Lockwood was many things: a great boss, slightly suicidal at times (although the number of occasions that he threw himself directly into danger had decreased significantly after the Christmas holidays), an excellent swordsman, and a loving boyfriend to Y/n.

But as Holly watched Y/n she knew that he was also in a lot of danger. 

“Ah. Hello, Darling. Holly.” He was wary, gaze flicking between the two girls as he stayed holding on to the door handle. Y/n’s eyes narrowed, and Lockwood’s attention was suddenly solely on his girlfriend. His smile faltered slightly, and there was a split second where both he and Y/n sort of… hovered, the tension in the room palpable. 

Then the chaos started. 

Lockwood turned and fled the room, footsteps heavy on the stairs, and Y/n was hot on his heels, yelling as she thundered after him. Holly could hear their laughter echoing through the house, and she let out a chuckle of her own as she stood up and folded the shopping list, putting it in her pocket. 

Her boss was going to suffer dearly for the rest of the morning for withholding the toothbrushes, but he wouldn’t be physically harmed. 

A thump sounded on one of the upper floors, something that sounded worryingly like a body hitting the ground, and pleads of mercy followed immediately while mixed in with laughter. 

She was tickling him, then. Going for the feet if she wanted maximum effect or sitting on him and going for his sides if she was smart and didn’t want him wriggling away. 

Holly picked up a bag and her keys in the hallway, and made for Arif’s. Hopefully Lockwood would no longer be a hostage by the time she got back. 

~~~

George Karim was normally quite forgiving when it came to Y/n, but printing out tens of pictures of Penelope Fittes was a step too far for him. 

“Why do you even want to do this anyway? I thought after the whole… ‘fake-dating-turned-real-dating’ thing over Christmas you weren’t fighting anymore.” He was spread in front of the printer in his room, blocking his friend from accessing it. Since getting back from her family’s house in the middle of nowhere a few months ago, after snowstorms stretched out their Christmas, Lockwood and Y/n had been annoyingly cute and coupley.

“He hid all the toothbrushes, George. He’s having a nap right now because I tickled him into exhaustion, so I’ve not got much time before-” she broke off when George tackled her to prevent her from using the printer. 

“Okay… well why does that mean you’re printing loads of pictures of Penelope Fittes? The head of the company we hate?”

“… Because I’m going to cut them out and replace all the photos in the house with them.” The pair of them stopped squirming and George pushed his glasses back up his nose to stare in shock and confusion at her. 

“You… what?” 

“It’s April Fool’s. I’ve got like… two hours left before midday. Please, Georgie. I have to get revenge.” He sighed, then released his grip on her. 

“Fine. But when he gets annoyed, you are not linking this to me. I’m not getting dragged into all of this.”

The two of them spent the next fifteen minutes printing photos and cutting them out, and when it sounded like Lockwood was stirring, Y/n sent George to keep him distracted. He penned his boss in the library where he’d fallen asleep earlier, spewing facts about the next case they were going to go on to keep Lockwood there while Y/n snuck around the house. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been waffling on about murder victims and Type 2s, but when Lockwood’s girlfriend tentatively peeked around the door he had to stop himself from visibly sighing in relief. 

“You alright, Schmoopie?” Where the nickname had come from, George had no idea, but Y/n was the only one who used it and specifically only when she wanted to piss off Lockwood. Lockwood himself knew this too, and George could immediately see the suspicion creep in. 

“… yeah. Are you?”

“Hm? Oh, yep!” Her grin was wide, and looked rather like a shark, and George wondered why Lockwood was staring all heart-eyed at her despite being suspicious. “Just been… finding toothbrushes.” It was Lockwood’s turn to smile now, boyish delight making him perk up. 

“Get any?”

“Eventually. Took me a bloody long time though,” she mumbled the last part, but the boys still heard. George snickered. Lockwood’s smile grew. “Anyway… tea?”

“Alright then,” Lockwood replied, stretching out a hand and moving over to the doorway. Y/n took it, planting a kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek before pulling him out the room. 

She sent a wink over her shoulder at George as they turned the corner and disappeared. 

~~~

So far, the pranks were one each. 

Lucy had noticed Y/n putting photos of Penelope Fittes in all the picture frames around 35 Portland Row, and when her friend had explained why, she had gladly joined in. Any opportunity to mess with Lockwood was an opportunity that Lucy took. 

Around half an hour after Lockwood had reappeared from the library, he still hadn’t noticed that all of the photos had been replaced. He’d spotted one or two maybe, but that was it. Some were more sneaky than others, and Lucy knew that Lockwood would be finding Penelope Fittes photos for weeks after today. 

Now she was sat in the living room with George, Holly, and Y/n, sketching in her pad. There was near silence in the room, the clock ticking and what sounded like suppressed snorts of laughter outside the door the only noises. Lucy frowned, glancing at the door every few seconds. After another minute or so of stifled laughter Lockwood appeared, mouth pinched to hide the smile on his face as he walked in and sat on the arm of his normal armchair where Y/n was sat. 

“…Lockwood?” Lucy asked. “Why are you wearing a hat? You’re… indoors?”

“Oh! Just felt like it! Thought it would be nice to wear something a little more fun. For morale, you know?”

Y/n looked up then, and gaped at the top hat perched on her boyfriend’s head. “You’re ridiculous, Anthony.”

“Yep. We’ve had this conversation before, Darling.” All talk died down after that, Lockwood occasionally murmuring a word or two to help Y/n with her crossword, and the members of the agency were at peace. At some point Lockwood excused himself to the toilet, and when he came back around five minutes later (they’d all heard the toilet flush) there was something slightly off about him. He still had the top hat on, but something was bugging Lucy. 

The same process repeated, Lucy looking up at him every now and then to try and figure out what was different and Y/n doing the same (the two girls had shared multiple confused looks), and then Lockwood excused himself to get a plate of biscuits. When he came back, Lucy once again felt something was off. The biscuits were passed around, crossword helped, top hat still in place, then Lockwood came up with another reason to leave the room. 

It was the fourth time he returned that Y/n appeared to realise what was happening. “Ohh, I see what you’re doing, Anthony Lockwood.”

“Do you?” he asked, innocent as a child. “I’ve noticed the photographs - don’t think I haven’t.”

“Oh, have fun finding them all. Why do you have multiple sizes of the same top hat?”

Lockwood shrugged. “Disguises. Why did you have so many photos of the head of the Fittes company?”

“Does it matter? You’ll be finding them for weeks.”

They finished their friendly bickering in hushed tones, Y/n standing up to let Lockwood sit down and balance her on his lap, and Lucy smiled softly at them. 

After wrangling the whole story of what had happened over the Christmas holidays out of the two of them, Lucy had spent roughly the last two and a half months teasing the living daylights out of the couple for their antics, but she couldn’t deny how cute they were together. 

She just hoped that the current poking in the sides they were doing didn’t turn into decking each other instead. 

Cut scene (alternative prank):

Now she was sat in her room in the attic, one leg hanging off the edge with the other folded underneath while she drew in her sketchbook. The creaking of the steps up to her floor alerted her to someone’s presence, and after a few seconds Lockwood’s head appeared, followed by his body. “Ah, Luce, thought I’d find you here.” He had something in his hand, shiny in a crinkly plastic bag. “I need your help to-” he broke off, mid-movement while he peered at one of the pictures on Lucy’s bedside table. It was of the five of them, Lockwood, George, Holly, Y/n, and herself, except in the place of Skull sat on the sideboard was Penelope Fittes’ face. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Did she put some of these up here, too?” Lucy struggled not to smile.

“Must have done it when I was in the kitchen earlier.” That was a lie, Lucy had done it herself. “What did you need me for?”

“Ah!” He lifted the plastic bag and grinned. “Doubloons. Not real ones, obviously, I bought them from a cheap party shop down the road. I’m going to hide them around the house.”

Tag list:

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, @oblivious-idiot

as always, if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

#deck the halls (and not your partner) #deck the halls specials #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you