#The beginning of the fic was just proof of that
Text
~ Just say you’re sorry ~
THIS IS FOR THE AMAZING ANON THAT INSPIRED THIS FIC SO KUDOS TO THEM 💞✨💗💕
Also tagging my fellow moots who love this HC as much as I do:
@someone1348 @tickleebug @prettychillbrainfreeze @ghostlyshylee @itzystopkiddingmenowloco
Lee’s: Leo🐢💙 and Mikey🐢🧡
Ler’s: Raph🐢❤️ and Donnie🐢💜
Summary: Raph and Donnie have been getting pranked by they’re younger brothers all day. So like the good big brothers they are, they hatch a totally not devious plan to teach they’re younger sibs a lesson.
(A/N: AS ALWAYS- T*EST DNI YOU NASTY CREEPY WEIRDOS)
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“Stupid dumb-dumbs…stupid stupid dumb-dumbs…”
Raph turned around from where he was sitting on the living room couch to see his immediate younger brother- Donnie- pacing back and forth in the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee that spilled a little bit every now and again as he turned around in a pacing circle.
The young genius was wearing his dark purple sweatshirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, wearing his occasional purple mask and goggles. Raph was wearing his own mask as well, clashing with his grey/gray sweatshirt.
The snapper got up from the couch, putting his phone down and walking to his immediate younger brother. “Hey, bud…you okay?” Raph asked, putting a hand on Donnie’s shoulder as a way to show his comfort. The younger looked up at Raph and started chuckling, even though the eldest turtle was 99.9% sure nothing he just said was funny…
“What’s wrong..? What’s WRONG???” Donnie yelled, going close to Raph’s face so they’re snouts touched before stepping away from him. The softshell put his coffee mug on the counter, pacing back and forth again while his hands were behind his back.
“Oho, I’ll tell you what’s wrong. What’s wrong my dear older brother, is that those imbeciles that I apparently have to call my younger brothers have been pulling pranks on me left and right ALL DAY. I can’t get any work done without fearing for my life that another water balloon or paint cannon is going to hit me!” Donnie said, throwing his hands up to the air before putting them back down. The purple cladded sibling sighed, rubbing a hand down his face slowly as he tried to calm himself down.
Donnie was frustrated- very very (that’s two very’s) frustrated if you couldn’t tell. The genius wanted to have a productive day; a day where he got almost all of his work done and he had the rest of the evening to spend with his family and friends. Believe it or not, the softshell actaully enjoyed spending time with his family, even if he acts like he dreads every single second of it.
But sadly, the universe didn’t want the day to go the way Donnie had originally planned. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 younger siblings that were annoying as FU- fudge. Annoying as fudge.
Anyway, the two gremlins have been placing boobytraps and pranks all over the lair, such as sparkle canons, water balloons, whoopie cushions- you name it! And at the end of every single prank there would be this…card that mysteriously came out of nowhere. It was orange and blue and had Mikey and Leo’s faces on it, saying “You just got pranked by the Portal Pals! (P.S. L + Bozo)”
Which was…cute. It was nice that the two were having fun and spending time with each other…but WHY did they’re fun have to torture Donnie in the process?
“You too, huh?” Raph chuckled, reaching into his sweatshirt pocket and taking out a couple of Leo and Mikey’s “You just got pranked!” cards. Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle along with Raph at the sight of the cards, going over to him and resting his head on his plastron, groaning. The snapper just laughed some more, wrapping his immediate younger brother in a hug as he patted his battleshell.
“They’re. so. annoying.” Donnie whined, rubbing his hands along his face as Raph sighed. “I mean, yeah. They’re our little brothers, little bro. It’s kind of they’re job to annoy the living hell out of us, y’know?” The eldest reasoned, patting Donnie’s shoulder as he huffed, his anger starting to slip away. “Yeah…I guess so…” the softshell mumbled, taking his head up from Raph’s plastron and smiling at him.
“But hey! Look on the bright side: that doesn’t mean we can’t get payback~!” Raph exclaimed, winking at Donnie who raised one of his sharpie drawn eyebrows, curiosity and mischievousness written all over his face. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Donnie asked, grinning from ear to ear.
Raph grinned back, nodding his head in confirmation. The second-oldest turtle smiled a bit more (this time being a kind of evil smile) as he took out his phone from his pocket, going into they’re family GC. The younger started typing up something on his phone, beginning to walk to his lab.
“Walk and talk with me, Raphie. I’ve got a plan…”
🕺🏾🐢🍕Cool Kids GC 🍕🐢🕺🏾
Today at 2:34 pm
*🕺🏾👾Bootyyyshaker9000👾🕺🏾 is online*
Hello my fellow fam
*UrfaveChamp😘😘😘✨💙 is online*
*Mystic_Mike🎨🤩 is online*
Yoooo
Hey Don!
How are you 😁🥰?
Good good.
How’s the eyebrows working? Feelin pretty, bro?
Donnie groaned from Leo’s text, about to type “kys” in the GC to his younger twin before Raph cleared his throat, shaking his head in disapproval as they continued to walk. The softshell sighed, deleting the text before he was about to send it in the GC.
“There. Happy?” Donnie asked as the oldest nodded, walking into the lab and both sitting on the lab’s desk chairs. “Very.”
“Anyway, what’s he even talking about, Don?” Raph asked, confused. Donnie ran a hand down his face, clicking out of messages and showing Raph a picture he took earlier. It was a pic of Donnie’s eyebrows covered in sparkles, glitter and fake gemstones- and it looked completely awful. Let’s just say the eyebrows looked like a second graders art project.
Uh…no offense to any second grader of course…
“One of they’re sparkle canons got me…” Donnie mumbled. The softshell was so glad he was able to clean that monstrosity off- he would never be able to live that down without anyone making fun of him for it.
Raph cackled at the picture, putting a hand to his face as he did so. “Stop laughing...” Donnie glared, taking the phone back so Raph couldn’t see the photo anymore. And if the alligator snapping turtle knew any better, he could’ve sworn that he saw a pout on his immediate younger brother's face.
“It isn’t funny.” The pout caused Raph to giggle a bit more, booping the softshell’s snout as the younger playfully swatted his hand away. “It is a bit funny…” Raph giggled, smirking at Donnie. The second oldest just chuckled as he rolled his eyes, clicking out of his Photos app and right back to the GC.
They’re fine, actually. The sparkles really complimented my eyes.
See! Told you he would like it, Mikey!
A success in my book
Oh whatever 😒😒😒
✨Anywaysssss✨
What is it that u needed, Don?
R u okay?
Oh, yeah. I’m fine.
I just need you both to come to my lab.
I have to make a huge announcement to say to everyone.
It’s extremely important.
Raph’s already with me so I just need you two to come.
Oh!
Okay!
Oooh! Must be a pretty important if we’re coming to Dee’s lab…
Yes- it is important. I literally just said that.
See you in like- 15 seconds, Dee!
Wait! Raph’s w/ u right now?
Yes. Raph is with me as of right now.
Ask him for me how he likes his new room setup 😁✨
LMFAOAOAOAO
Raph grabbed Donnie’s phone out of his hands, his face red in embarrassment as he typed in the group chat. “What’s he talking about, man?” Donnie chuckled confused, not used to seeing his older brother so flustered.
After the snapper was done with…whatever he was typing, his face relaxed- seeming really calm and content now. Raph cleared his throat, handing the phone back to Donnie. “We don’t talk about it.”
KSYNDND
*KYS
THIS IS RAPH TYLINGNEN
*TYPING
KANSHSJAKSHS!!!
U KNOW ITS FUNNY BRO-BRO
I HATE YOU 2 SM LITERALLY DIE😡😡😖!!!
BAHAHAHAJSHSBDKDK
We love you tooooo Raphieee~!☺️☺️☺️😘😘💕💖💞💖💖✨✨
Donnie clicked out of the messaging app and glared at Raph. “How come I can’t type ‘kys’ in the group chat but you can!?” He asked, putting his phone on his desk and crossing his arms. “Eldest brother privileges, duh.” Raph said calmly, merely shrugging as Donnie rolled his eyes for probably the millionth time today.
.
.
.
“What’s with the random call to Dee’s lab? Are we experimenting on something?” Leo asked excitedly, looking around the lab to see if there was anything brand new or important to test on as him and Mikey walked in. “Yeah! What is it? I wanna know!” Mikey asked as well, grinning from ear to ear waiting for either of his older brothers to answer the question.
Leo was wearing his dark blue sweatshirt, with his blue mask. Mikey was also wearing his favorite orange sweatshirt, also wearing his mask.
Not answering any of the younger two's questions, Donnie tapped a few buttons on his wrist watch, closing the lab door behind them. The two quickly looked behind them at the door and then at each other, nervousness starting to broil up in they’re stomachs. “Don? Raph? You guys okay…?” Leo asked, his head tilting to the side in confusion as his twin and older brother just stood there staring at him and Mikey.
“So…you guys gonna keep staring at us, or are you gonna tell us why we’re here…?” Mikey said as he scratched his head in confusion.
“Glad you two are so curious to find out why I called you here.” Donnie smiled, him and Raph getting up from they’re chairs, looking at they’re younger brothers with a deadpanned face. There was another awkward silence with all of them just staring at each other.
The two youngest weren’t sure if they were called in Donnie’s lab for a legitimate reason or if this was some huge staring contest. Leo and Mikey exchanged worried glances, “Soooo…you gonna tell us or what?” Leo chuckled, crossing his arms trying to hide his nervousness at his twins vague answers.
“Well, you and Mikey have been pranking me and Don a lot.” Raph said stating the obvious, only for Leo and Mikey to chuckle. “Is this what this is about? Are we in trouble or something?” Mikey giggled, nudging Leo in the elbow causing the older to snicker.
“You two aren’t in trouble per say. We just want to join in on the fun too!” Donnie smiled…a bit too sweetly. Leo crossed his arms, squinting suspiciously at his older brothers. “Join in on the fun?” The slider repeated. “Oh, but of course! The fun I’m personally thinking of starts with an r and ends with ‘evenge’. Isn’t that right, Raph?” Donnie grinned as Raph nodded his head.
Mikey gulped, “Wehell…Ihi just remembered I have to goho feed my pehet rock…so, uh…if you’ll excuse me I’ll just be on my way…” Mikey giggly said, nervously walking backwards to the opening door to the lab. Mikey attempted to open the lab door again and again but it just wasn’t budging. He turned around, trying to turn the knob but it wasn’t moving an inch.
“The lab door is locked my dearest Angelo.” Donnie chuckled as he saw the youngest trying to pry the door open- an evil smile plastered on his face as he leaned against Raph’s side, crossing his arms.
Well shit.
“You get Mikey, I’ll get Leo.” Raph instructed, walking towards Leo as Donnie walked towards Mikey, both of the older siblings wiggling they’re fingers slightly with huge evil grins on they’re faces. The two youngest looked at each other completely petrified, stepping away from the door and splitting up, going deeper into Donnie’s lab but making sure to keep they’re eyes on they’re “attackers.”
“Wahait! W-We cahan talk abohout thihis!” Leo giggled, putting his hands up as a way to try and stop Raph from…whatever him and Donnie were planning. Well- he did know what they were planning which is why he’s TRYING his very best not to think about it too much…
Now, don’t get Leo wrong, he can be a menace. He’s been called it many many times by different people, which he takes a LOT of pride in. And he can become even MORE a menace when he’s tickling one of his brothers. To funny remarks to rib-counting to teases. Leo was one scary of a Ler and that was just something you just couldn’t deny.
But sadly, the universe wouldn’t allow Leo to be the only scary Ler in the family. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 older siblings that were terrifying as FU- fudge when it came to tickling.
When it came to Raph and Donnie, they were just…vile. Finding every single possible way to tickle and fluster they’re Lee until they can’t even think straight.
Since Raph was, like, a TITAN in turtle form, it’s completely impossible to escape him while he’s wrecking you. And since he’s the eldest he will just go on and on and ON about how he was “The best Tickle Monster.” And that stupid thing he would always do was give “Raph-berries.” Basically raspberries but he’s nibbling you as well and it was TORTUROUS.
Now Donnie was an evil force to be reckoned with. For one, he would cheat. The softshell would use his spider arms to ping your arms up so you couldn’t squirm. And worst of all he would pretend as if him wrecking you was a whole big science experiment. Testing out his “hypothesis” or whatever other big words Donnie knew.
So getting that out of the way, Leo knows he’s absolutely dead. Deceased. Expired. 6 feet under…
The red eared slider just knows he’s completely screwed. Based on the facial expressions, body language and overall demeanor of his older brothers, the two were out for revenge. And Leo and Mikey being more sensitive than them, (Leo being a tad bit more ticklish than Mikey), they knew they couldn’t stand a chance. All the two were doing was wiggling their fingers and Leo and Mikey were giggly messes…
“Talk about what, little brother? Talk about how you scared the living heck outta me with all those posters of Mrs. Cuddles that you put all over my room?” Raph taunted, stepping closer and closer to Leo making the younger giggle more frantically.
“I-Ihit wahas funny though!” The younger one stammered, “Actually, now that you mention it…SHE’S RIGHT THERE, LOOK!” Leo screamed, pulling out a completely terrified look out of nowhere pointing somewhere ahead of him, pretending where he was pointing was Mrs. Cuddles.
Hey, he’s not called the Face-man for nothing!
“Wait- WHAT? WHERE?!” Raph screamed, frantically looking around Donnie’s lab to try and spot Mrs. Cuddles. But the only thing he saw was a certain red eared slider running away from him.
Well played…
That little shit.
Before Leo could attempt to try to hide somewhere in the lab, Raph came from behind him, picking the younger up and putting him on his shoulder, carrying him to the middle of the lab where Donnie and Mikey were. Donnie already “captured” Mikey, using his spider arms to hold his arms so he couldn’t try and run away again.
Leo started to hit the back of Raph’s shell, squirming to try and get out of the older’s hold as a bunch of giggly threats flooded out of his mouth. The snapper only rolled his eyes, poking Leo in the side causing the him to let out a surprised shriek followed by frantic laughs. “Don’t forget the position you're in, bud.”
“Yohou guhuys! Plehease dohon’t- noHO Deehee!” Mikey squealed as Donnie released him from his tech arms, sitting down on the carpet floor and pulling him into his lap as Raph did the same thing with Leo, sitting a little bit across from Donnie. Before the young genius could pin Mikey’s hands up- as he originally planned on doing, the youngest retracted into his shell, giggling smugly as Donnie tried to get him out by knocking on his shell repeatedly.
“Hey! You can’t do that!” Donnie said, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. “Toohoo bad. I juhust did.” Mikey taunted, happy he found a way to escape Donnie’s tickly wrath.
Leo, about to go into his shell too was immediately caught by Raph. The older held up his arms, grinning and raising a brow. “Where do you think you’re going, Lee?” Raph asked, chuckling as Leo plastered a nervous smile on his face.
“Nohowhere…” The red eared slider giggled, looking around anywhere but Raph’s face before looking towards his younger brother who was soon about to break by the demon you would call Donatello.
“DeEHEE! NahAt the tUHuhUmmY!” Mikey squealed, squirming in his shell trying to get away from Donnie’s tickly fingers that were now dancing across his stomach. The older shook his head, grinning at the sound of the youngers frantic laughter.
“Then get out of your shell and fight like a real man!” Donnie taunted, which only caused Mikey to whine throughout his giggles but not coming out of his shell. Suddenly, Donnie stopped tickling his tummy, poking at the boxer turtle’s lower rib. “Boop.”
The younger's reaction was almost immediate as he came out of his shell completely to grab at Donnie’s wrists. “There we go~! See! Was that so hard?” Donnie smiled innocently, using his spider arms to pin Mikey’s arms up. Donnie just smiled at Mikey as Raph let go of Leo to begin tickling his sides.
“Pfft- nohohoho!” Leo giggled, hugging his middles and squirming a bit as Raph lightly scratched around his sides. The older one laughed in amusement, raising a brow and grinning at his reaction. “No? No, what? You two brought this upon yourselves!”
“Oho screw ohohoff!” Leo retorted, pushing at Raph’s wrists as Donnie just continued to look at the youngest, not doing anything quite yet.
“Whahat?” Mikey asked, looking at his older brother who’s face looked like he was solving the worlds hardest math problem- but the genius probably did stuff like that for fun anyway.
“Hm? Oh…nothing. Just trying to remember where you’re most ticklish, Angelo…I can’t quite seem to remember…” The softshell muttered, crossing his arms and looking up intensely at his midnight purple ceiling.
“Wha-?! Whahat ahare yohou tahahalking about??? Yohou know my worst spot!” Mikey giggled, rolling his eyes at his brother who only shook his head. “My apologies, Mikey. I sadly do not. But…perhaps you could possibly tell me?” Donnie smiled, a smile which only caused Mikey’s face to go a bright red. “I aham nohot telling! Yohou already know!”
Donnie laughed at the younger one’s answer, starting to trace his fingers along the place where Mikey’s shell met his neck- a known melt spot spot for the youngest. Mikey giggled slightly at the sensation, squirming a bit under Donnie’s hold.
"Are you ticklish anywhere else?" Donnie asks, not stopping his tracing, looking down at his younger brother’s face that indeed looked like a tomato- which is really weird because he hasn’t even tickled him for that long!
“Noho! I’m not! Juhuhust lemme gohoho!” Mikey squealed, kicking his legs trying oh so desperately to get off his older brother’s lap. “No? You're lying to me, aren't you?" Donnie chuckles, still not stopping as he continued to trace Mikey’s melt spot.
“I bet you're super ticklish. I just need to find the right spots! Just tell me where, and I'll be sure to avoid it like the plague." He pauses, giving the younger a chance to tell him where he was ticklish (because Donnie obviously didn’t know!). His voice was low and teasing now, a playful, taunting inflection in his words. "Or should I just start tickling you until I find out myself?"
Mikey just giggled, shaking his head and stomping his feet on the ground- determined to try and escape while he still could. “That's a yes, then?" Donnie chuckles, smiling a little to himself. "Alright, I'm going to take your lack of response as permission to tickle you." The softshell merely said as he now started to tickle the younger’s exposed underarms.
“HeHEY!” The boxer turtle shrieked, trying his best to squirm away from his older brother. “ThaHAT TIHIckles yohoU BiHIHiG jeHerk!” Mikey cried, regretting his words as soon as they came out.
“Does it?" Donnie chuckles in fake surprise, continuing to tickle Mikey’s underarms, his hands being gentle- not getting to his worst spots…not yet at least. “You really shouldn’t have said that, Mike~!” He remarks, smiling as the younger one only laughed more at the tease. The second oldest soon began to pick up the pace of his tickly fingers, laughing as Mikey tried to hide his face in his elbow- not being able to hide them in his hands since his arms were pinned up.
“What are you squirming around for, hm?” I vividly remember you saying you weren’t ticklish anywhere else…” Donnie stated matter-of-factly. “IHI LIhihiED, AhaLRIGHT? Ihi lihihIED- dOHOn PLEHease! QuiHIT IHIT!” The younger admitted, his laugh muffled from hiding his face away in his arms.
“Do you hear that, Raph? This little shit lied to me! Can you believe that?!” Donnie cried dramatically before lightly scratching his fingers at the sides of Mikey’s neck- making the younger let out a high-pitched squeal; not hiding in his arm anymore as he threw his head back in full blown laughter.
“I wouldn’t be lying to Donnie if I were in your position, Mike. Just saying.” Raph said casually as if there wasn’t a red eared slider in his lap, laughing his shell off and squirming like he’s being electrocuted.
“And you. Stop squirming so much! Your making it hard to get your good spots!” Raph playfully scolded down at Leo, tickling at the younger’s ribs, chuckling as Leo grabbed his wrists and uselessly tried to pull them away.
“Ihi’m gOHOnna gEhet yohOU guhuys baHAHAck soho bahahad yoHOu’ll wiHIsh yohOU neHEver knew meehee!” Leo threatened, lightly punching the air in hopes to hit Raph. Which- none of them did. But hey, A for effort, right?
“Oho I bet you are.” Raph laughed sarcastically as he began to tickle Leo’s stomach. “Someone has a ticklish tum-tum, I see~?” Raph teased as Leo’s face began to go almost as red as the oldest’s bandanna. “DOOHOO *snort* naHAT CAHaLL IhiT THAHAT!” Leo squealed, kicking his legs and throwing his head back in hysterics.
“RAHAHPHIEEEE! PLEHEASE! STAHAP IHIT!” Leo cried, still trying to grab at Raph’s hands as they were lightly pushed out of the way each time he tried. Raph smirked as the younger pleaded, only making Raph tickle his stomach more lightly- almost feather-like.
“I will stop as soon as you and Mikey apologize!” Raph smiled. “Agreed. As soon as you two apologize, we’ll stop reminding you two just how ticklish you are.” Donnie exclaimed as he began to knead Mikey’s thighs. The box turtle shrieked, kicking his legs in hopes that the kicking will make it harder for Donnie to tickle him there.
“NAHAHA! DEEHEE! NAHAT *squeak* THEHEHERE!” Mikey squealed, still kicking his legs but Donnie’s hands stayed firm as he began to knead harder. “IHIT TIHIHICKLES! DAHANNIE *squeak* PLEHEASE *squeak* STAHAP!”
“Hm? What? What’s so funny Angelo?” Donnie asked, looking back at his younger brother who- by the way- looked like a full on turtle tomato. “WEEHEE’RE SORRY!” Mikey cackled. Donnie nodded his head, looking at Raph but not stopping tickling Mikey.
“Hey, did Leo apologize yet?” Donnie asked. “Nope! Which I think is a bit rude considering your situation don’t you think, Leo?” Raph asked, stopping tickling Leo to let him breathe as Donnie did the same with Mikey.
“Yohou are thehe woHORST older brohohother eveher…” Leo giggled at Raph, knowing he was absolute dead meat after that comment but couldn’t help himself. Mikey made a teasing ‘ooooh~!’ sound, giggling at Leo’s comment to they’re eldest brother.
“Personally, I wohohould nohot tahake that amount of disrespect…” Mikey giggled as Raph only sighed, shaking his head before smirking. Raph flipped Leo around so that his shell was facing the ceiling- and as he did so Leo felt as if his soul left his entire body.
Leo and his big mouth…
“AHAHA! NOHO! NOHO WAHAIT *snort* A SEHEHECOND!” Leo panicky giggled, kicking his legs and lightly punching on Raph’s thighs. “Waitwaitwaitwait- lehet’s tahalk- RahaHAHAPH! RAHAHAPH WAHAHAIT!” Leo giggly panicked, his laughter increasing as Raph slowly lowered his head to the back Leo’s knees, ALMOST touching it with his face.
“What? Wait for what?” Raph grinned, waiting for Leo to reply but the only response he got from the slider was snorting cackles. Raph took a deep breath before blowing a raspberry on the back of Leo’s knees, causing the younger turtle to go absolutely mad in laughter. Leo covered his face with his hands, muffled cackles bouncing around the walls along with Mikey’s squeaky cackles as Donnie gave raspberries to Mikey’s stomach.
“Jeeheez…you guys are really ticklish, huh~? I wonder how long they could last…what do you think, Don?” Raph asked before going back to blowing raspberries on the slider’s knees, not showing him any mercy now.
“I estimate about 3 more minutes or so…but it doesn’t really matter because I don’t plan on stopping until I hear an apology from Leo~!” Donnie tauntingly sang, laughing as Leo and Mikey’s laughs became more louder after that. “Besides, these two had what was coming to them for a while.”
Mikey absolutely paled at Donnie’s tease. This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t fair one bit! He already apologized! He surrendered!But because of Leo’s stupid comment and the denial that’s he’s the most ticklish out of all 4 of them, they’ll probably be here for an hour!
“LEEHEEO! LEEHEEON *squeak* PLEHEHEASE! JUHUHUST AHAPOHOL- *squeak*” Mikey cackled as Donnie began to blow raspberries on Mikey’s ribs now, scribbling his fingers along his sides too.
“So? What’s it gonna be, Leo? Have you had enough?” The eldest asked as Leo only glared at him through his laughter, throwing his head back again. Leo shook his head, banging his fists on the carpet. The poor slider was trying to act high and mighty but was still squirming like a fish out of water trying to get back into the ocean…
Or, in this case, trying not to get tickled to pieces.
“Stop squirming, Leo. You aren’t going anywhere. I could do this allllll day.” Raph teased as he blew another raspberry on Leo’s stomach. “Well, scientifically speaking, you can.” Donnie said, stopping giving Mikey raspberries but still tickling his stomach with both hands.
“I was doing some research for um…scientific purposes and I figured out that alligator snapping turtles and softshell turtles can hold they’re breaths for an hour. So, as long as we take certain breaths now and again we could blow raspberries on Leo and Mikey’s ticklish tummies for as long as we-“
“WEEHEE GEHET IHIT!!!” The two youngest screamed, not wanting to hear anymore of Donnie’s “scientific discoveries” about how him and Raph were the most devious ticklish monsters on the planet.
Donnie and his dumb-dumb research.
“Huh…you don’t say…” Raph smiled, trying to test Donnie’s theory about the whole “not needing to breath thing for an hour” thing. He blew probably like the millionth raspberry on Leo’s stomach.
And…Donnie was right! Not that he had one single doubt on his immediate younger brother’s genius of course! It just sounded too good to be true! He will definitely be using this tactic on Leo and Mikey in the future…and maybe April too! He’s definitely not scared of the aftermath of when he does that to her…
Raph smiled, not being taking a single breath as he continued to give a raspberry to the back of one of Leo’s knees. Raph was enjoying this new skill he could do very well! Leo on the other hand…was going absolutely ballistic.
“NAHAO, *snort* AHANYWHERE *snort* EHELSE! NAHAT *snort* THEHE KNEEHEEHEES!” Leo screamed, punching Raph’s thighs lightly again. “Awh~? Why not~? Is this a bad spot, Lee?” Raph teased into Leo’s knees, finding this whole situation quite amusing indeed.
“OHOMIGAHAHA-!!! YEHES! IHIT’S *snort* SOHO FREEHEEAKING BAHAHAD!” Leo cackled, not knowing what to do but just laugh and kick his legs. He was absolutely defenseless! There was nothing more he could do but just take it! “So…it tickles? Would you say this tickles too~?” Raph asked as he began to nibble at the back of Leo’s knees along with giving raspberries at the same time. Or, “Raph-berries” if you will.
“RAHAHAPH! NAHAH- *snort* IHI HAHATE YOHOHAHAH!” Leo snorted, his hands starting to flap against the carpet floor, making light thumping noises.
Raph laughed, a smile still plastered on his face- but instead of that eat shit-and-die” expression he had on earlier, this smile was way more fond.
Fun fact: Anytime Leo was tickled by his siblings, he younger would start happy stimming with his hands. His siblings think it’s the most adorable thing ever- much to Leo’s disagreement.
And it was so funny because he couldn’t even deny that he hated being tickled (even though he did anyway)! The evidence was right there!
“You didn’t answer my question, little bro! Does it tickle?” Raph pressed on, eager to get an answer out of his younger brother. “ *YEHES! MY GAHAHAD! OHOBVIOUSLY!” Leo screamed, still trying to kick Raph off of him.
“Just making sure!” The oldest smiled sweetly, still not stopping his new ability on the second youngest’s knees. Leo whined throughout his cackles, covering his face once more. “Don’t be like that, little bud! You know you love it!” Raph teased.
“NAHAO *snort* THE HEHEHELL IHI *snort* DOHOHON’T!” Leo screamed, happy stimming with his hands again.
“Your body language says otherwise, bud.” Raph teased back.
Back with the PB&J Duo, Donnie an idea sparked in the genius’ head. His eyes sparkled as he grinned at Mikey- causing the youngest to gulp in nervousness. He knew what his older brother was planning…
“Dohonatello- Dohon’t yohou dahahare…” Mikey warned, glaring at Donnie as a warning. But that so-called warning only made Donnie laugh. “Oh I dare. Oh I so, so dare, Angelo.” Donnie taunted before blowing raspberries on Mikey’s plastron where his ribs would be.
The younger let out a glass shattering squeal, causing Donnie and everyone in the lab to flinch a bit. But like Leo- Mikey can’t really do anything but just laugh at this point.
“PLEHEHEHEASE! DAHAN- *squeak*! STAHAP!” Mikey cackled, kicking Donnie in the side with his knees which only caused Donnie to chuckle. “I think our little brothers have mutated into a pig and mouse.” Raph laughed, both him and Donnie laughing at the comment- because they couldn’t really deny that fact that.
“OKAHAY! OKAHAY!” Leo screamed, his hands flapping on Raph’s thighs repeatedly. The older chuckled at the gesture, fighting every ounce of him not to take a picture with Donnie’s phone right now at the younger’s adorableness. “Okay, what Lee~?”
“IHIHI’M SAHAHARRY!!” Leo snorted, his hands still flapping happily and Raph couldn’t help but laugh fondly at it. “Should we let them go, Raphie?” Donnie asked, still nibbling at Mikey’s plastron but eyes on Raph, waiting for his answer.
“Yeheah, we should. We don’t want to accidentally kill them...” Raph said to his immediate younger brother, chuckling at his own joke. The two oldest stopped tickling the two youngest, letting the two just relax in they’re laps; trying to catch they’re breaths.
“Oho my gohod….” Leo breathed out, turning to his side so he could see both Donnie and Mikey. Raph laughed as he rubbed the younger one’s head; trying to soothe him. The younger teen squirmed, holding Raph’s wrist as the older laughed some more. “I’m not gonna tickle you, bud.” He said, continuing to rub Leo’s head as the red eared slider stopped holding his wrists, excepting the gesture.
“Thahat was fuhun!” Mikey giggled with Leo, sitting up and leaning on Donnie’s plastron- now being able to use all of his limbs. The softshell then used his spider arms to give the pranking duo two glasses of water- which the two happily accepted.
“Speak fohor yourself…” Leo giggly grumbled, putting the finished glass of water to the side after drinking it and leaning on Raph’s plastron.
“So! I guess now you two know not to mess with your older brothers, right?” Donnie asked, wrapping Mikey in a hug before lightly squeezing his sides, causing the younger to let out a screech. “YeHES! We learned our lesson, okahay?! Jeeheez! Couldn’t you have warned us in text or something?” Mikey whined, pushing at Donnie’s face lightly.
“Nah. This was way more fun.” Raph and Donnie both said, smiling as the two youngest groaned fondly at they’re answer to Mikey’s question.
——————————————————————
This fic has been a WIP for a LONG ASS TIME so I decided to finish as soon as my stupid exams ended and post it lol-
But srsly- I love this HC for Raph and Donnie sm it’s so evil <3 I hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :D
(Also sorry if the phrasing and/or pacing is weird- this is my first time writing with two lees and two lers- I dunno what I’m doing 😭💀😂)
P.S. Since Summer just started for me I will be able to work on more of my WIP’s so keep watch for ‘em :p
#If you couldn’t tell I love writing Raph#He’s such a great character and an even better tickle monster#Brains and Brawn#Its been a couple of months but I think I can officially say they’re my favorite duo#The beginning of the fic was just proof of that#Sorry this took like 2 months to make 💔💔💔#As I said- I had no idea how to write 2 characters getting tickled at the same time#I love you all with all my heart but I’m NEVER doing that again#It was so hard-#But thank you K for giving me advice for it ✨💗💞#This fic wouldn’t have been finished without you 💕✨#Also thank you Jo as well for helping me remember what I wrote for one scene because dOCS FREAKING DELETED IT#This fic probably would be half its size if it wasn’t for ya ✨💗💕#Leo and Mikey are such a shits I hope I did them justice#Oh wait who am I kidding- I’m a younger sibling ofc I have em justice#Raph-berries#Plz- I hate him sm /lh#Donnie acting oblivious to where his Lee is ticklish and “figuring out” the spots might be my new favorite thing#Cuz he could wreck you if he wanted to but he’ll just leave you in suspense 😉#Like the mean older brother he is#Rottmnt#Rottmnt tickle#Rottmnt Mikey#Rottmnt Leo#Rottmnt Raph#Rottmnt Donnie#Lee!Mikey#Lee!Leo#Ler!Donnie#Ler!Raph
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‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’
☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.
a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.
“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.
and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.
“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.
sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.
though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.
sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.
were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?
he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.
“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”
sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”
lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.
but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.
sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.
you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.
“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.
you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.
you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.
“where’d you think you’re going?”
sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.
you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.
his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.
he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.
“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.
you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.
even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.
you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.
“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.
you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”
a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.
“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.
you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.
sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.
“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”
it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.
the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.
until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#jjk x y/n#sukuna x you#jjk fluff#jjk fic#sukuna ryoumen x reader
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Everything
Summary: You're used to staying still whenever Astarion feeds on you. This time, he wants you to feel everything.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Blood kink. Inappropriate use of tadpoles. Dry humping if you squint. Handjob. Innuendo. PiV. Creampie. Precum.
Word count: 3.2k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: At the time of posting this fic (Feb 11th), I was unaware of a fic by @bhaalism that had been posted on Feb 6th and that some similarities are present, even if totally unbeknownst to me. It was not consciously done, but I can understand how some people might see it differently. I've discussed the matters privately with Kita and, as such, here's the link to their fic so you can check them out and appreciate their work!
I also want to emphasise that no negative behaviour should come of this (in either direction) as we've both discussed matters privately, and no one else has to get involved!
You've done this so many times before that it feels as natural as second nature.
It feels right.
If the multiple scrolls of Lesser Restoration are anything to go by, this is meant to be a prolonged feeding session.
You don't mind.
And by the looks of it, neither does Astarion as he pulls you by the waist to sit more comfortably on his lap.
He has this ritual of sorts with you. It would be so easy to tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to his bite and let him feed comfortably, but he takes his time.
And you know it's only a matter of time before you start feeling it.
“You can just feed, you know?” you purr, pressing your forehead against his.
As expected, he huffs in feigned annoyance.
“Gods, are you about to lecture me with the ‘don't play with your food’ nonsense, darling?” he bites out dramatically, but you do know he enjoys a good tease.
“Maybe I should,” you say, swirling the soft curls at the nape of his neck around your finger. “You need to feed, after all.”
A devious smile curves his lips and you pull back to slip from his lap.
But he immediately halts you halfway with a firm grip on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin and holding you in place.
Oh?
This is new.
And that's when you first feel it twitch for the first time.
It's no surprise that Astarion gets easily hard with you and for you. In fact, it doesn't take much effort at all. It's as if his body is set to react to yours in unfathomable ways.
But when you press down softly against him, and the motion earns a groan from him and yet another twitch from his cock, you know this is different.
Usually, he feeds on you as you lay flat on your bed, making use of the comfort a mattress can provide as he drinks your blood.
It is easy and quick and enough.
But tonight, it seems that Astarion has other plans and his lustful gaze paired with his hardening cock are proof enough.
He is evidently hungry for more than just your blood.
“As much as I adore you under me,” he begins, gaze dropping to your shirt, “I think I'd rather have you on top of me this time.”
Your hands come to grip his shoulders for balance, and your eyes widen slightly. “Why?”
A gentle tug at the laces of your nightdress nearly breaks your concentration, but you somehow manage to keep your composure as his crimson eyes find yours.
“Why not? Why shouldn't this delicacy be shared?” he asked with another tug and you felt the fabric at your chest begin to loosen. “You should enjoy it, too, darling. And I want you to feel everything.”
He emphasises his words with a final pull that brings your nightdress fully apart, unravelling your breasts to his hungry gaze. They heave in unison with your quickened breathing and it's enough to transfix him.
You can't necessarily feel it, but you are certain his cock just got harder just as blood rushes downwards, swelling your clit.
The shift in temperature causes your nipples to slowly harden and that is what makes him groan.
“Enjoying the view?”
He nods. “You can feel how much I do.”
You feigned ignorance. “I don't think I can.”
The grip on your waist tightens and he pulls you against his cock, the flimsy fabric of your undergarments allowing your clit to drag along his covered length.
Hard and needy.
“You were saying…?”
Smug and cheeky and infuriating.
Three adjectives that fall short to fully grasp how he is with you when it comes to intimacy, but it's a good place to start.
He's good and he knows it and he wants you to validate him every step of the way.
“Connect your tadpole with mine,” he says unexpectedly.
“What? Why?”
“You know why.”
You do and it baffles you that he even suggested it in the first place. Connecting tadpoles intimately is reserved for when privacy is a guarantee. And being inside one of the many rooms at the Elfsong Tavern offers everything but privacy.
“We're at a tavern, Astarion…”
He quirks an eyebrow, bucking his hips upwards ever so slightly. “Yes, I'm aware. Your point being…?”
“We'll be heard.”
“Do you not intend on being loud?”
Your mouth falls agape at the nerve. Silence is never an option with him. He takes pride in how he makes you feel, knowing fully well he's ruined you for anyone else.
“Would you have it any other way?”
His cock twitches in response, but it's the way his half-hooded eyes roam deliciously slow across your face that makes you clench.
“And miss the opportunity to inconvenience our next-door neighbours?” he tuts with a smirk that bares his fangs. “I don't think so.”
In the midst of all the lust-heavy words and slow hip rolls, you manage out a chuckle.
“You're vicious. Shadowheart and Lae'zel will definitely not appreciate the midnight ruckus.”
He bucks his hips so that your face gets close enough for your lips to brush.
“And what exactly are they going to do, hmm?” he says with a smirk. “Kill me?”
Before you can answer, he leans in and captures your bottom lip in between his teeth. The suddenness of it all, makes you flinch back and when a fang grazes the frail skin, it draws blood.
It stings enough for you to curse, and you see his hungry gaze admiring the droplet that pools on your lip.
“They could do much worse to you,” you tease with a giggle, proving your point by denying him the taste of your blood when he leans in again.
He lets out a low rumble of disapproval as he slumps against the headboard. “If by ‘worse’ you mean ‘whispering healing prays and hurling nonsensical curse words’, then I agree. A torment,” he feigned pain dramatically.
There is something oddly satisfying about teasing Astarion to the brink of frustration.
You almost feel inclined to satisfy his bloodlust, but decide against it, wiping the droplet with a swipe of your tongue.
That immediately earns a deep frown from him and an obnoxious click of his tongue. “Honestly, what a waste.”
“Then be nice,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
Astarion's hips buck and you're sure your undergarments are soaked enough for the wetness to seep through the fabric of his trousers. If he feels it, he doesn't say.
When you pull away, there's a faint stain of blood on his lower lip, which he pulls in between his teeth to suckle on it gently.
The sight is enough to have you roll your hips twice.
Suddenly, he looks uncharacteristically serious. “Connect your tadpole with mine.”
There is urgency in his voice and you can only assume he is past warming up and ready to move on to the next step.
And you're not one to deny the offer of a good time if there is a promise that him feeding on you can be pleasurable to you as well.
You allow your mind to stir the dorment tadpole, urging it to find his.
It is rather simple and you've done it before with him during your sexual endeavours. But this is different. It already feels different. It's as if the worm knows this connection bears other purposes.
Astarion lets out a groan when his body meets yours through his mind.
The tug inside your head is enough to draw a breathy gasp as you are made aware of his intentions.
He wants your hand.
Your… hand?
Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but not for long enough as his hand pulls yours from his shoulder.
And what he does next makes you clench so hard, you feel a gush of wetness drip from you.
“I want you to feel it – everything – as I feast on your blood,” he purrs, placing your hand around his throat.
Oh.
The tadpole squirms in anticipation as you feel his cock throbbing in your mind and against your clothed clit.
His skin is cool to the touch but it quickly heats up under your palm and, with his other hand, he undoes the laces of his trousers with unmatched dexterity.
You gasp as his thoughts bleed into you, allowing you to know what he expects next.
This time, he doesn't need to utter aloud his intentions.
You can hear him inside your head and you find yourself utterly unable to look away from his piercing eyes.
Take it out and grip it, darling.
Your hips buck, driven by pure instinct as you comply with his request. A shaky hand reaching down and tugging at the fabric of his own undergarments, and in one swift motion, you free his cock.
As expected, he immediately welcomes your grip with a thrust, and you feel just how hard and wet he already is.
His cock is still cool to the touch, but you know that is about to change soon enough.
With a gentle squeeze, his eyes flutter shut, head tilting back slightly as he adjusts to your touch.
It doesn't take long for a thick bead of precum to roll down his length before reaching your knuckles.
Inside your head, your tadpole shudders and you're sure it's because he wants to feel how swollen your clit is for him.
It pulsates rhythmically and Astarion growls with a smirk.
He adores feeling your clit.
Just as you adore feeling how stiff his cock can get in your hand and in your mind.
“You're already quite hard already,” you say, doing a laughable poor job at keeping your voice steady.
“I can get harder,” he says and you feel his voice rumbling against your palm.
You clench in sheer reflex. Mostly because you know he can and will.
Instinctively, you let out a soft moan from the delicious friction.
And it's enough to have Astarion's ego soar high enough that it pulls the most devilishly alluring smirk from his lips.
After all, he never misses the chance to remind you that it is your blood that makes his cock thicker and warmer and harder.
Astarion finally opens his eyes again and brings his hand to your face, fingers tracing your jawline before he tips your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.
Hold on tight, darling.
He cranes his head and he plants a fleeting kiss below your ear, as he grazes his cool lips along the length of your neck. By now, he knows your pulse points by heart, so when he finds one, his fangs break skin and sink into your inviting flesh.
Out of reflex, you grip his cock tighter and he lets out a muffled groan.
No matter how many times you allow him to feed on you, the initial uncomfortable feeling is always there and it lingers until his lips wrap around the bleeding wounds.
And when he begins to suckle hungrily, downing mouthfuls of your blood, you nearly moan from the way you can feel it under your palm.
Your tadpole allows you to be aware of your blood rushing and coursing through his body at a steady pace and when it finally reaches his lower half, a faint pulse stirs his cock.
Immediately, you clench, frustrated that it's around nothing, but you quickly brush the disappointment aside as you finally understand why he wanted your hands around him.
He swallows your blood at a rhythm that matches the throb in his cock, and inside your head you can feel it beat in unison with the one in your clit.
It's your blood that brings him alive in more ways than one.
Warmth spreads across your palm and fingers and the veins that snake around his length begin to bulge as your blood fills them.
Tighter… tighter… tighter.
He repeats it like a prayer that he hopes you can answer.
He's so lost in you that his senses blur and he becomes one with you.
You try your best to comply, the back of your hand soaked with precum, as he hardens even more.
In between your legs, your clit swells up as if in response and you're so wet you're sure he'd be able to slide his cock inside with little to no effort.
How is it possible? How…
The connection allows him to hear your thoughts and he groans in response, rolling his hips at a clumsy and broken pace.
Astarion's concentration is hanging on by a thread. You can hear him curse in sheer frustration as he tries to hold on to some semblance of control.
But he gets too drunk in your blood and he is unable to keep his focus.
It doesn't help that your own arousal is spilling into his mind and mixing with his own.
A double-edged sword.
He wanted you to feel him as he feeds on you, and now he's stuck having to withstand double the arousal and the pleasure that your blood provides.
The first loud growl comes from him and you feel your grip around his cock loosen as he thickens.
Your walls flutter and he feels it, bringing one hand down to close around yours, ensuring you grip him firmly once again.
You keep clenching like that and I…
His next words aren' heard in your head and you feel your body begin the inevitable battle between overwhelming pleasure and the numbness that always comes whenever he feeds.
A faint growl slips past your lips and it quickly morphs into a strangled cry that echoes around the room.
You want to call out his name and warn him… warn him that your body can't take much more bloodloss and arousal.
But the tug inside your mind lets you know that he knows.
After all, your body is his now.
Just as his is yours.
He fucks your hand slowly with his atop yours, keeping the pace. The lump in his throat bobs rhythmically with each gulp.
Astarion… it's too much…
It takes him a couple of more seconds, two more mouthfuls and at least five more thrusts of his cock for him to finally unlatch from your neck with a guttural growl.
He drags his warm tongue across the puncture wounds, not wasting the rivulets of blood that dribble down.
The wet sound is nearly intoxicating and you nearly jump in his lap as his other hand finds your breast, fingers tugging at your hardened nipple.
Astarion is close and, by extension, so are you.
Your blood rushes throughout his entire body and you now understand how good it feels. How good you feel inside him. He's warm and flushed from feeding on you and his head tilts back against the headboard as loses himself in you.
Somehow, he's able to keep a steady pace as he fucks your hand, the most beautiful moans spilling from his mouth as he does so.
You caress his neck lovingly as he tugs on your nipple.
“Darling…”
It's a plea.
Under different circumstances, you'd have to ask him what he wanted. But you're inside his head and you know why he's begging you.
He doesn't want his cum to go to waste.
He doesn't think the tightness and warmth and wetness your hand and fingers can provide.
I need to be inside you.
The alarm in his voice stuns you momentarily and your eyes widen as a very urgent tug
He's about to come.
You let go of his cock and his hands are suddenly in between your legs.
Your body reacts to this instantly and your walls tighten in anticipation, eager to squeeze something else.
Stop. Clenching.
A loud moan is all you give him in return as your vision blurs from how his cock pulses and throbs and leaks precum.
Another clench.
“Gods above… I can't take it anymore.”
And neither can you.
You hear the sound of fabric being torn filling your ears and his hands claw at your waist to position himself at your entrance.
A languid snap of his hips and he sinks into you, stretching you in a way that has you slumping against his chest, hardened nipples grazing his skin as he bottoms out.
He's so thick from your blood that you're sure you'll be sore from it, but none of that matters now.
All that matters is that you're stuffed to the brim, his balls pressing against you and the best part is that you can feel how he feels.
You're not sure whose climax hits first as you're so entwined with him.
You reckon it's his as you feel his balls tighten and cum coarse through his length, spilling into you with hurried thrusts.
It feels too good to be true.
You can feel just how tight you are around him and you can feel each gush of cum leaving his bodu
He whines. “I… it feels – Gods…”
Astarion is a babbling mess under you and his words soon lose meaning as they become incomprehensible.
The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with the creamy sounds of you milking his cock is enough to send you into overdrive.
The uncontrollable contractions hit you like a tidal wave and both you and Astarion groan in unison as you both get thrust into each other's climaxes.
Your head is buried in the crook of his neck and you vaguely think in the haze of your peak that you should use a scroll of Lesser Restoration. You're still bleeding from the wounds and the fear that you might faint looms on the horizon.
But pleasure overcomes numbness and you welcome it with no resistance.
Still, as Astarion gets warmer and warmer, you begin to fade to the coldness.
Your tadpole is writhing with his and you feel him push you from him so that he can latch his lips against your bleeding wounds, careful to keep his fangs to himself.
He suckles gently as you descend from your shared climax and it's as if the action could lull him into a trance.
Blindly, you try to feel for a scroll that is somewhere scattered across the bed.
He's still buried deep inside you when the connection is severed, showing no signs of slipping out.
You find what you're looking for and utter the right words to activate the scroll, battling against your laboured breaths.
Vigour blooms inside you almost instantly and you feel warmth spread throughout your body with each pump of your heart.
The wounds close and he has no choice but to unlatch one final time, lips dripping with blood.
“I think I understand now… why you wanted to try this…” you breathe out, collapsing against him again.
The sudden motion causes a few droplets of cum to drip from you.
His hand is splattered across your back, fingers caressing your flushed skin. “Why are you so surprised? You should know by now that I always deliver what I promise.”
You think it's impossible to love him even more, but the way he holds you surely tests your resolve.
“This was really good… really, really good,” you say.
“Keep on praising me like that, and we'll have to go for a second round.”
Two loud bangs on the wall are heard accompanied by a “Tsk'va!” and you chuckle.
“Well, do you think our neighbours enjoyed the show, darling?”
You doubt it, but this isn't about anyone but you and him.
Masterlist
#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion smut#astarion x you#astarion x female tav#astarion x female reader#astarion x f!tav#astarion x f!reader#astarion x oc
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E!42 MILES DATING A SHY!SOFT READER . . . ☆
warnings - black fem!reader in mind but you can imagine it however you'd like, miles having a soft spot for you, pink coquette vibes from reader, profanity, slightly suggestive.
word count - 2.2k | lowercase intended.
main masterlist | proof read?: kinda😭
song rec for fic?: yo love - from "queen and slim: the soundtrack - vince staples, 6lack, mereba <3
ᘏ⑅ᘏ
. . HOW YOU FIRST MET . .
ఇ . . . you two were assigned as partners for a science project that would play a big part in your final grade. you knew of each other but never fully interacted until now.
ఇ . . . miles knew you as quiet, only speaking when spoken to. you were an approachable person with a warm smile. you carried yourself well, and treated others kindly, even if they were undeserving. he was entranced by you to say the least. with how things were currently going in new york, he was surprised that the city hadn't dimmed your light. miles wanted to know more about you and this project gave him the perfect opportunity to do so.
ఇ . . . you knew of miles as well. he had the reputation of being an unapproachable person. easily intimidating others without trying, and keeping his circle of people small. you took a small interest in him as well. you'd catch yourself glancing at him every now and then, trying to break down his character. he didn't seem as mean as everyone claimed but now was finally your chance to see for yourself.
ఇ . . . that project was only the beginning of your and miles' relationship.
ᘏ⑅ᘏ
. . CRUSHING STAGE . .
ఇ . . . miles protectiveness increases the more your relationship grows. he'll cut into situations and defend you before you can fully form a thought. he never hesitates to step in-front of you as a human-shield and tell someone off with a simple phrase.
"ay, watch yo mouth." | "huh? repeat yo'self." | "i know you not talkin'-"
ఇ . . . he starts eating lunch with you. his friends get on him for being a simp but he brushes it off every-time. he enjoys the convos you two have during lunch and would rather sit next to you than a rowdy group of boys who use the lunch food as science experiments.
ఇ . . . he seeks you out. during school, after school, on his nightly patrols, etc. without even fully knowing it himself, miles is always looking for you no matter where he is. he just naturally gravitates towards you. you bring something to miles life that he hasn't had in a long time. peace.
ఇ . . . let's you mess with his hair. when he's over your place he'll let you put your cute baby pink hair clips in his braids and even tie in some hair bo-bo's at the end of them. but only if you take them out as soon as you're done and don't take any pictures. (you still take pictures)
ఇ . . . let's you draw on him. you can't remember when it exactly started but it's became a routine for you to doodle and write on his hands in every class you two share. he'll return the favor, if you ask nicely. he copies whatever drawing you did on his hand to yours so you'd be matching. (he dreams of getting matching tattoos with you.) <3
ఇ . . . scares classmates away. whether it be a glare from across the room or an arm slung around your shoulders, miles is always scaring your classmates away. even if they show the smallest romantic interest in you.
ఇ . . . maintains eye contact. he's always looking for your eyes and trying to remain in contact with them when you talk. he just loves staring into your pretty doe eyes while you ramble about something you like.
ఇ . . . nicknames. miles doesn't want to scare you off by being too forward, so he'll limit his nicknames. the ones he does call you while crushing on you are ma and princesa.
ఇ . . . passes notes in class. he's a bit of a "model student" in class (not talking back, not interrupting or disrespecting classmates, turning in his work early on time. he just wants to be left alone lmao) but he's more than willing to pass notes with you throughout the entire period. you'll catch him up on the newest gossip and he'd update you on the stuff him and his homeboys get into.
ఇ . . . he'll help you study. if you don't know spanish or you're just a struggling student, he'll teach you everything you're having a hard time with at a comfortable pace. he'll quiz you every once in awhile just to make sure you fully understand and don't feel behind in anything. if you've shown a significant amount of improvement he'll treat you by taking you out for your choice of dessert. (it's really just an excuse to take you out on a date without using the word date)
ఇ . . . there's an unspoken rule that you are his. classmates know, your friends know, his homeboys know, hell, even the teachers know. you're the only person miles gives the time of day. you're the only one who gets to walk around with his arm on your shoulders, have his undivided attention, as well as be the reason for his smile. you are his and he is yours.
ᘏ⑅ᘏ
. . DATING STAGE . .
ఇ . . . late night facetime calls. you two are truly never apart. when you're not together physically you're on facetime with each other. he loves when you call him and showcase the cute things you bought for yourself using his card. he also just loves the comfort those calls bring him. seeing you engulfed in a warm blanket fast asleep while he's doing his own thing just makes him feel content. you're able to be there for each other without physically being there and that's enough for him to wait patiently until he's able to hold you again.
ఇ . . . clingy as hell. although, he'll never voice out his wants for your touch he will initiate it. miles will be the one to commence 80% of affection. partly because you're shy and mainly because he can't keep his hands off of you. miles is always touching you in some way. whether it be an arm around your shoulder, a hand resting on your thigh, or a hand rubbing your ass while you're cuddling. he can't resist kissing you either. his lips always finding any available part of your skin to kiss when he feels like it.
ఇ . . . compliments. every chance he gets he'll remind you how good you look. always hyping you up and telling you how beautiful you are. whenever you get overwhelmed by the flow of affectionate words that smoothly flow out of his mouth, you'll cover your face with your hands and turn away from him. it only gives him more fuel in the long run because he loves to see his girl get all shy and cute for him. sometimes he doesn't even use his words. a simple look up and down while licking his lips will leave you weak in the knees.
"that's all mine right there."
ఇ . . . genuinely hates arguing with you. he hates when you're upset with him. there are plenty of times where miles has provoked you to the point you've gotten upset with him and that's usually when he knows he's gone too far. you're his girl, his everything. he can't have you sulking because of him. although, miles does have a bit of a short-temper, he remains calm throughout these situations. he lets you both voice your sides and he won't let the situation go until you come to an agreement. he tends to avoid arguments at all costs. usually murmuring a "you got it, ma." before it turns into something more. after settling long disagreements, he'll engulf you in a hug and give you a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"love you. don't want my girl goin to bed mad at me."
ఇ . . . nicknames! his nicknames will consist of mi vida, mi reina, ma, mami, baby, etc. any term of endearment you can think of he's most-likely called you. usually consisting of 'my/mine'. he's very possessive. your contact name in his phone is 'mi corazon 💘' and you're the only one with an emoji next to your name.
ఇ . . . spoils you. you want it? you got it. although, miles isn't incredibly wealthy, he does have money. he uses it to take care of you and his mom, providing help for the both of you. he helps rio with actual necessities, while with you he provides you with gifts. ranging from shoes, eyelashes, lace fronts, plushies, clothes, or electronics. the most expensive gift he's gotten for you is an ipad and apple pencil. it was for your birthday and he knew he had to get it for you after hearing you fangirl about it nonstop.
ఇ . . . lets you do his hair. he usually only lets rio do his hair, he's a major mama's boy. so, when you were granted the privilege to do his hair you felt honored. he also just loves when you take his braids out and give him scalp massages. he's fallen asleep on occasion because of how gentle and soothing your hands are. he's also tender-headed as hell so, please be careful or you'll get a earful of him complaining.
"damn, ma. why you gotta pull so tight?"
ఇ . . . buys matching sets. he buys you both matching shoes, clothes, and jewelry. he likes the simplicity of being able to match with you and show everyone you're his without voicing it. you two are the couple that matches on christmas. matching christmas tree pants, and santa hats...rio thinks it's adorable. for your 5 month anniversary you were gifted a gold necklace with his name written in cursive and once he helped you put it on he revealed the necklace that was under his shirt that had your name in gold written in cursive. only time you two take it off is when you're in the shower/pool. he'll take it off during prowler business as well, he doesn't want to disclose any of his personal business at work, it's very dangerous for the both of you.
ఇ . . . cant sleep without you. once miles gets a taste of what life is like keeping you close and holding you to sleep, it's hard for him to go without it. he loves cuddling with you and if there were any instance where you two wouldn't be together he would toss and turn all night and look at the ceiling until his body physically shut down itself. it's not the healthiest way to go by so when he starts to show up to school with deeper eye bags than usual, you decide to give him a plushie of his own. he'll buy the plushie little clothes and change them every now and then. he names it after you, and he even bought the exact perfume you wear and sprays it on the stuffed animal before going to bed and cuddling it. he's embarrassed to admit it, so he'll never tell you how much he pampers it. (you don't need him to tho, you've caught him kissing the top of the stuffed animals head before cradling it in his arms and murmuring 'goodnight, mi vida.')
ఇ . . . will go to the barbie movie with you. he'll thrown on a pink hoodie, black jeans, and pair it with some jordan's while you're decked out from head to toe in pink. he's gonna cry at one point during the movie and you have to pretend you didn't see. when you ask him if he liked it he'll shrug his shoulders while sniffling. he def gave his mom a big hug when he got back home. :')
"yeah, yeah...it was alright, i guess."
ఇ . . . talks about you to his mom. mile's didn't speak much of you when he had a crush on you, but he really didn't have to. his mom knew there was something or more so someone occupying his mind whenever he'd come back from school with a slight dazed expression and the tiniest smile.
ఇ . . . graffiti's your initials together. whenever he's bored and has a little extra time on his hands he'll graffiti his and yours initials together. sometimes replacing your last initial with an 'M' for Morales..
ఇ . . . treats your stuffed animals like they're your children. he scolds you if he catches one of them on the floor, he'll name them future child names he has in mind because he def wants to get married and start a family w/ you, he gives them hugs and buys cute little tutu's for them. lowkey will throw a fit if he finds out you gave some of them away.
ఇ . . . buys/sends things that reminds him of you. he'll buy you your fave bag of chips if he sees it in the store, he'll pick up a keychain with your name on it and attach it to his bookbag, he'll send you memes or recommend a tv show because the character reminded him of you. you're really on his mind 25/8.
ఇ . . . bakes with you. he loves baking with you. you two will bake the hell out of some chocolate chip cookies or some brownies. nothing that takes too long or a lot of preparation though, he'll get antsy and kinda touchy which leads to burnt products and a ruined cake pan.
ఇ . . . shows you off/brags about you. his friends and close family members know all about you and your achievements. if you play sports he'll cheer you on and brag about your wins, if you're an artist he'll post your artwork, if you have a small clothing brand he'll wear it and tell people to buy from your store if they ask, if you knit/crochet he'll ask you to make him a bucket hat or a mini version of you and him, if you dance he'll stay up all night on the phone while you show him your new choreography. it doesn't matter what you do, miles will continue to support you and brag about any and every achievement you accomplish. big or small.
ఇ . . . miles morales loves his sweet soft significant other.
currently re-writing my miles morales fic that was 6k words because tumblr decided to randomly delete it 🥲 i'll try to get it out soon! <3
also sorry for inactivity, i've been busy w/ school and work but i'll try to shoot out fics faster when i get the time :) !!
#miles morales headcanons#miles morales fluff#e42 miles#earth 42 miles fluff#miles morales x reader#prowler miles fanfic#miles morales x black!reader#prowler miles x reader#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales x y/n#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 miles morales x black!reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#miles 42 x reader#miles morales x you#prowler miles#miles morales prowler
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Freak Like Me
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader
Genre: smut (18+)
warnings: daddy kink (sigh), dom/brat tamer cheol, brat reader, heavy degradation (from both), dirty talk, spitting, choking, spanking, manhandling, ass play, minor breeding kink, name calling
Length: ~4k
Note: he haunts me day and night, when will i know peace from this man. thank you @wongyuuu and @onlyhuis for beta-ing! also pls dont request any daddy kink fics! this was a one off and i dont see myself writing more
Summary: You’re always happy to indulge in your boyfriend’s fantasies. That doesn’t mean he won’t have to work for it though. And that's just the way Seungcheol likes it.
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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked
Six years of dating means most nights in bed are spent watching movies on the too large flatscreen your boyfriend insisted on buying until you fall asleep. Not that the appeal of having Seungcheol anyway you wanted wore away but the passion of your earlier days burned into content to spend evenings curled in each others’ arms after a day of exhaustion.
You’re already greasy from lotion, the worn shirt speckled with holes sticking to your skin still warm from a blister shower. Snuggled between fresh sheets with a candle burning on the side table and a good book, you’re the pinnacle of content.
Seungcheol is visible just over the edge of the page, lent against the doorframe. Sometimes he’s like this; watching you like he can’t believe he managed to get you to say yes to the first date, let alone everything else that’s come after. You meet his gaze with an arched brow.
He’s quieter than usual when he flops over your body to snuggle into the curve of your shoulder. Marking the page, you toss aside your book in favor of squeezing him into a hug.
“Everything okay?” You ask.
A fleet of kisses across the stretched neckline of your shirt is Seungcheol’s only response.
You indulge when he finds your mouth. Lips parted around one of his, the soft point of a tongue sneaking between your teeth.
He crawls over you easily enough, one thigh resting between the dip of yours as he hums. “Can we try something?”
Nipples hard from some light petting, you kiss along Seungcheol’s jaw with a faint nod to acknowledge his request.
“Could you–”
“I’m not letting you put your dick in my ass. I have too much shit to do tomorrow to be limping around.”
Seungcheol leans back to pin you with round eyes round and pouty lips. “I thought you liked it?”
“Yeah, I do.” You sigh, circling your arms around his shoulders. “When I have a few days' notice.”
“That wasn’t what I was asking anyway but good to know.”
“Okay, so what do you want then, your majesty?”
Dropping back into the safety of your throat, your boyfriend mumbles something intelligible.
“Come again?” You snicker from the vibrations. “Sorry, I don’t speak pout.”
“Call me daddy.”
Oh.
It’s not an unexpected request. You’ve dated for six years, you know your boyfriend like the back of your hand. He likes the thrill of telling you what to do, watching you get off on it too. But sometimes it feels like he’s holding back. As if there’s another level he hasn’t fully allowed himself to explore yet. The proof rests in the months-long push and pull at the beginning of your relationship where you all but humped his leg and he still would keep his hands more or less PG-13. The secret to getting Seungcheol to admit his deep dark secrets is to convince him they get you hot too.
“Hmmmm.” You pretend to think, already sold on the idea the second he opened his mouth. But you can’t let him know you’re that whipped despite the fact Seungcheol knows too well how easy you are for him. “What’s in it for me?”
Seungcheol pins you under his mouth, tracing promises across your lips, teeth, and tongue until everything goes fuzzy at the edges.
He drops to your jaw, tracing the same pattern across your pulse until you melt. “God, you’re hot.”
Seungcheol talks a big game but a few complements, tinted with candor from the promise of pleasure, makes him blush like he hasn’t fucked you every way imaginable.
“Don’t make it too easy for me,” he goads into your stomach, dipping beneath his shirt to nip across your hips.
“Then get up here, I’ve got shit to talk.”
The heat of his lap greets your ass first, next is the rough palms of his hands slipping under your shorts and finding you went to bed without panties. Again.
“You’ll kill me,” Seungcheol grunts into your mouth with a drive off his hips.
Hot and hard, you settle your weight back into his cock teasingly. “Death by pussy? Sexy.”
A hand circles your jaw, holding you in place while he takes what he wants. Every gasp and sigh, nipping across your lower lip until you melt into his chest and pull off his shirt.
Your nails rake down his front, red lines raising to claim him. Memories of college, when you’d bite your mark into his neck for the sole purpose of parading around parties, broadcasting who he belonged to without shame, flare across your brain. But now you’re older and a hickey the size of a golf ball would look less than professional in front of his clients. The idea still gets you hot enough to try for one on your boyfriend’s stomach, right where the vein that leads straight to his dick.
Seungcheol lets you melt down his front. Bracketed between thick thighs, you might as well be queen of the world as you tongue across the waistband of his pants; the bulge of his arousal digging across your breasts.
A hand on his cock loosens his resolve. You might just get away with not playing the mind games he wants tonight but your curiosity is piqued enough to remind him.
“Daddy,” you gasp in mock surprise. “You’re so hard for me.”
You barely manage to lap at the head through his pajamas before Seungcheol is putting his muscles you use and crowding you on to your back.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your lover grunts, ripping your shorts out of the way before diving into his favorite meal. “Say it again.”
“If I do?”
He sucks your clit the same way he kisses; slow and lazy until you’ve got the itch in your gut only quelled by his touch. Seungcheol can do it for hours and he has. Sucking until your eyes water and you practically float to the ceiling.
The sounds of his mouth tickle your ears. Wet and nasty until he groans into your cunt like he’s never tasted anything better. A stray hand makes for the nest of dark hair still damp from his shower only to be pinned on your gut with enough force you’re tempted to fight to break free.
“Just take it right now,” Seungcheol mumbles around his own tongue. “Be good for me.”
“Fuck, Cheol. Fuck, just like that.” You sob, already breaking cover under the hands of your lover.
First warning comes across your clit with a nip of teeth. “Not my name.”
Your incentive to listen, two thick fingers that know exactly where to play, drive home his request. But if your boyfriend wants what he asked for, then the best way to get him to fully indulge isn’t listening to him. It’s goading him until he makes sure you taste nothing but his cock for the next week.
Like always, you can’t help a smart comment from bubbling past your lips. “Make. Me.”
Seungcheol doesn’t miss a beat. A single brutal rush of his fingers sends you to the stars. Tongue flat across your sensitive bud, he sucks his cheeks hollow until you whine. There isn’t the usual care he takes even when you’ve been bad with the sole purpose of pushing him to his wits end with hot looks and borderline obscene touches. Seungcheol is wringing you dry with his own sadism.
The next quip dies on your lips when he curls his tongue inside you between his spread fingers, leaving you feeling dirty in the best way. Watching him eat pussy is like watching an artist but when you go to peek he’s already watching you.
“Beg for it.” Chin and cheeks soaked, even his nose shines in the low light of the lap, Seungcheol fucks you with slow fingers through his next demand. “Beg for it and I’ll let you come like this.”
“Or you can just make me cum?” Your voice gains an octave under the curl of his fingers. Usually he’s eager to give whatever you ask for but not tonight.
“Or you can do what I tell you, ” he sucks into your clit.
Choking on your pout, you trace your foot up his back. “Where’s the fun in that?”
The fun is in your boyfriend, sweet Seungcheol who treats you like a princess without a want left in the world, folding you in half on his cock until you’re crying. He knows it, you know it, and the real foreplay is baiting him into doing it.
“Do you want to cum or not?” He snatches your ankle off his shoulder, pushing until your knee is by your armpit in an impressive show of flexibility.
“Oh, please daddy make me cum!” You wail sarcastically. It echoes the porn you’ve watched with him in mind and doesn’t taste as bad on your tongue as you thought.
It’s the last straw for now because Seungcheol does the one thing to make you behave. He pulls away.
“Wait, no.” You scramble. Soft touches and softer eyes while you beg. “Baby, please. Please, don’t stop.”
“Come here.”
Planting back in his lap, you rain placating apologetic kisses across his face while your hand plays with his cock. Or you would if Seungcheol didn’t twist your arm and pin it at your spine.
“Are you ready to be good?”
You hum a yes. Exaggerating for remorse, you nose into the soft spot below his ear you know Seungcheol goes soft for.
“Then show me.”
This time when you move to take his cock in your mouth, Seungcheol only holds you back to press down his pants. Hard and sticky at the tip. You lick your lips, waiting for permission before cleaning up the mess he’s made for you. You’ll be good until he’s too far gone to stop next time you mouth off.
The taste is one you're accustomed to, coating your tongue as you swallow him down until you nose the coarse hair dusting his base. One hand weighs on the back of your head, stroking gently while you do the dirty work with your tongue.
“Good girl,” he sighs as you mouth around the head with an obscene amount of spit. It drips where your hand squeezes. “Like this, don’t you?”
“Love it.” You mumble around your tongue. “Love your cock.”
Seungcheol’s eyes roam your body like he owns it. The pink of your tongue flush against the maroon cockhead, the curve of your ass in the air for a good show. All his for the taking when he wants. But the air in his lungs is too even. Seungcheol is too in control to let go and you won’t stop until he unravels.
A hard lick where he leaks is enough to get the game back in motion.
“Shit. Get up here.”
Cock aching against the soft of his stomach, hair a mess, and flushed from across every visible trace of skin, your boyfriend is a wet dream come to life.
“Hi,” he smiles into your mouth, painfully sweet.
You can’t hide your matching one. “Hi.”
“I love you.”
Shirt lost over your head, he cups your aching breasts as his thumbs drag across their peaks.
“I love you too.” You sigh.
“Are you into it or should we stop?”
Meeting in a kiss, you ask, “Into what?”
“You’re really gonna make me say it?”
“I’m a firm believer if a man wants to be called daddy he should be able to say it with his chest.”
“But do you want to call me that?”
“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn't do it.” You snort. “When have you ever been able to get me to agree to something I don’t want to do?”
The answer is never. Your relationship is forever tainted by matching stubborn streaks. If either of you falls to the other it’s because you wanted to all along but needed to be wooed first.
Seungcheol puffs an amused breath into your neck at the shared thought.
“Am I being too bratty? Is that why you think I don’t like it?”
“No, I—,” he pauses to gather his thoughts. “I think it—Makes me want to punish you.”
“Really? You fake a gasp, indulging in the lap of his tongue over your jugular. “Tell me more.”
“You’re bad.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You deny with your chin in the air but your hips swivel across his cock to prove his point.
He gets inside you with easy manipulation, ass flat to his thighs so the only place to go is up into his mouth. Seungcheol grunts under the first rock of your hips. “Someone needs to put you in your place.”
“Oh?” Less of a reaction to his words and more to the way he grips the meat of your ass like he owns it. “Sure you’re up for the challenge?”
The hot sheets Seungcheol previously occupied greet your back as he drives back in with his weight center behind his hips. And then he waits.
“Cheol,” you huff.
Another nudge between the thighs accompanied with the sting of his teeth across your nipple.
“Please?”
Thighs hooked over his own, Seungcheol spreads you out until you’re spread flat and helpless. Your hands got next, tangled in the fabric of the pillow cases above your heads under one palm.
He gives it all to you. Hot into your core until he tickles the back of your throat but it's not satisfying the itch. He isn’t fucking you, he’s fucking with you. Giving just enough you’ll need more.
Ankles locking around his spine, you throw your weight into the next desperate plea. “Fuck me, daddy.”
You feel the smirk across his mouth when he kisses you; blistering and wanting, with too much tongue but he gives you the first real cant of his hips and you can’t complain.
Every curl inside leaves you heaving. But there’s no air, just your boyfriend with something to prove and the stubbornness to give it to you.
“Take it just like that.” He grunts, breath lost to the way you curl around him. “Say it again.”
“Oh, yes daddy,” you moan with your head back.
“Look at you. Need it so bad, don’t you?”
The spark of defiance burns into a flame. You're not down deep enough to behave just yet. Seungcheol wants you to be bad, so you’ll be the worst.
“You’re a freak.” And to add insult to injury, you spit in his face.
Seungcheol freezes. Gazes burning, you both wait for him to catch up and match your move.
Maybe you’ve gone too far. Goading him is one thing, but spitting in faces is his territory. One you’ve never broached on but the tint of red looks good cover in your saliva. Almost like when he eats you out until you cry and black out.
Your thoughts don’t dwell on how good your man looks covered in you when he sneers.
“I’m a freak?” He scoffs, rising to one arm to leer over you. “Who’s the bitch getting wet from being treated like a slut?”
God. You think. Even after years he can leave you tongue tied. But now that you’ve started whatever this is, you hope Seungcheol will finish it.
“Hmmm I don’t know,” you sing. You take the opportunity to paint him with more traces of your nails, smooth skin rippling red and pink. He shudders predictably but manages to wrangle you back into place. “Big talk coming from the man who got off on making her cum when his friends were in the same room.”
“Yeah? And who wanted my friends to watch her blow me?”
You open your mouth to talk back but choke on a thumb. He nearly tickles your throat with it, caving your chest with struggle until you can control your breathing.
“Aww, you look so pretty like this.” Seungcheol pats your cheek until you're warm with embarrassment.
He isn’t as nice when you bite down.
Thumb digging into your tongue until you choke again, the cut of his teeth against your earlobe makes you quake with want as he growls, “You’re done talking.”
If the digit in your mouth wasn’t enough to reduce you to a puddle, his cock is. Fast and brutal, Seungcheol gives it to you the way he knows best. Your end crests faster than you’re prepared for.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry messily.
Seungcheol’s eyes burn with excitement but he doesn’t stop; he pries your mouth open and spits flat on your tongue.
“Cum for me.” He groans into your cheek. “Let me see my pretty little slut cum.”
Everything aches from the force behind such a command but your body delivers. Tight, tight, tight until the cord snaps and you’re seizing. Your boyfriend controls your thrashing like its easy work, weighed down with his hips and chest and thighs while you wail.
Nerves scorched, you feel him cooing sweet affirmations in your ear but the words fall deaf. Your jaw is wet from his thumb’s gentle stroking, and his stomach is flat to your own; only moving between breaths.
“Good girl, did so good for me. Always do.”
You groan somewhere deep in your throat. “God, that was hot.”
“Yeah?”
Nodding an affirmative, you push him away. Seungcheol goes easily enough. Clearly he’s still not fully in the space he needs to take advantage of his kinks; of your new found, shared fantasy.
Stealing his pillow, you fold it under your hips for the stability the muscles of your legs fail to provide. Ass high in the air, you ground into the sheets.
“More?” he asks. He’s eager, hands pulling at your cheeks, spreading them to get a look at the mess he’s made of your cunt.
“Wanna see you cum.” Looking over your shoulder with doe eyes and a pout, you sell his fantasy. “Please, daddy.”
Seungcheol guides himself through your damp folds, collecting your arousal with each swipe; nudging against your sensitive clit and chuckling at your responsive shudders until he catches on your entrance. He dares to dip in just barely an inch before pulling back; repeating the dance over and over, sinking deeper with each repetition until the flat of his pelvis is flushed with your skin.
The stretch is enough to drive you mad, full to the brim and squeezing around the intrusion promising nothing but satisfaction again. Seungcheol doesn’t wait for confirmation. Simply rocking into you with firm pressure as he’s drowned in the scorching clamp of your pussy.
Forcing a hand between your front and the bed to play with your clit, you pant into the pillow as everything multiplies.
“Who does this pussy belong to?”
The fabric below you is ruined with your spit. Fresh sheets put to good use. Cocking over your shoulder you find Seungcheol with his mouth tight and eyes glued where he stretches you. “You wouldn’t know him.”
Your laughter tastes like acid, high on reward the sick answer will grant you. Immediately, your ass stings with his hand print. Again and again until it aches like a sunburn.
There’s no other choice but to take it. With his other hand between your shoulder blades, Seungcheol fucks you hard enough your teeth chatter.
“Shit! That's what gets you wet?” You hear the sound of his spit against your ass, already soaked that it won’t make a difference but gets you hot anyway. “Pretending anyone else could fuck you like I do?”
A blast of excitement floods your veins. The thrill he’s letting go bit by bit, stringing himself out the way he always manages to get you. “Then fuck this pussy like it belongs to you.”
Collapsing across your back, Seungcheol collars you with one hand to pull you from the shelter of the pillows before spitting, “Spread it for me.”
He fucks you raw and aching. Hard enough you crumble under his hips, hands pinned between his body and your ass. Even through the pillows the clap of skin on skin is deafening. One of his hands takes up the rough circles on your clit. The glide from arousal makes your blood thick.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you wail. “Just like that, fuck!”
“Close?”
Nodding through the tears in your eyes, you let it rush on you. The old neighbors next door will complain tomorrow but you can’t control the lewd whines your boyfriend rips out of you as you cum on his cock. It burns worse than the first time, verging on blacking out your vision but you love it. Like a rubber band, you stretch your ends until it all snaps back, chest curled into the sheets. The cotton roughs your sore nipples but it makes you tighter on his cock.
“Cum inside me! Need it. Please Cheol, please daddy.”
Seungcheol swells inside you, two earth shaking thrust, and then a moan leaves you filled the way you crave.
“Jesus Christ,” you pant. Vision blurred, you only vaguely register your boyfriend’s hand stroking along your side while you come down. “I think you got me pregnant. Fuck.”
Seungcheol’s lips flit across your shoulder, slowly bringing himself back too. “Wouldn’t be mad about that.”
“I know you wouldn’t. Now clean me up.” You demand with your nose in the air. “Next time you should call me daddy.”
“Next time I’ll use those cuffs Jeonghan gave me for Christmas.”
“Damn, you really are a freak.”
Happily, he drags you into the stall for the second shower of the night. Frigid streams sting on your skin but the bastard pouts his way into keeping you in his arms; shivering but full of sleepy smiles under his lips.
“You’re so mean to me!” You shriek, back arching away from the miserable cold tile he corners you into. It’s nice where your ass still stings but everything else blooms in gooseflesh. “This is no way to treat your wife!”
“We aren’t married, yet,” he hums. The edge of disappointment isn’t lost on you.
“And if you don’t want that ring to go to waste you’ll move over.”
Seungcheol sputters, “How’d you find it?”
“Baby,” you coo, cupping his face between wet hands. “You’re the least subtle man I know.”
“It’s not even in the house!”
“Your life will be so much better when you start believing I know everything.” Booping him on the nose, you smirk with glee. “And remember Mingyu gossips like an old lady.”
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
#ksmutsociety#kvanity#svthub#choi seungcheol#seungcheol smut#scoups smut#seventeen smut#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt smut#🫡 highvern
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passionate sex with abby ୨ৎ
summary: you and abby spend the night enjoying each other, sharing a passionate moment.
content: fingering (r receiving), praise, abby literally worshipping you, strap on sex
notes: answer to this req!! can someone get me a shirt that says "baby's 1st strap fic!" this was surprisingly fluffier than i intended but i’m not mad. if there are any typos or grammar mistakes, let me know please! i will never consistently proof read <3 prob like 20% of my work is proof read if i’m feeling quite Professional
(wc 1.6k)
"are you asleep?" abby softly whispered into your hair, careful to not disturb you if you had fallen asleep.
the two of you lay on the couch watching a black and white film flicker across the tv screen, a king-sized blanket bunched around your waist. your arms tuck further into your chest, pulling the blanket up a little higher to your waist.
abby's large hands splayed across your lower back—not drawing little shapes, not tracing your skin, just feeling. she was always touching you, whether it was your fingers laced between hers or just her arm pressed against your side. she'd always say that you grounded her, that just being with you could calm her down from the highest of stresses.
you slightly shake your head, responding to her question. "nope."
"do you still wanna watch the movie?"
you shake your head again. "nope."
turning your head to look up at her from where your chin rested on her chest, you kiss her quickly on her cheek. "let's go to bed."
she doesn't respond, just smooths your hair back with her hand and scoots out from under you, grabbing your hand to lead you to the bedroom. she leaves your dishes behind—a bowl, two empty mugs, and a cookie wrapper sit still on the coffee table, frozen and forgotten by the two of you as you walk down the hall.
abby heads to the bathroom and loads up her toothbrush, and you change from your heavy sweatshirt and pajama pants to one of abby's simple, large t-shirts. you take your hair out of its bun and hear a chuckle from behind you, so you turn and see abby smiling and watching you, her foamy toothbrush hanging from her lips.
you take your hair tie out and set it on your side of the bed. "what?" you ask, to which she just shakes her head and returns her gaze to the mirror in front of her. you walk towards her in front of the sink, looking at her reflection. her eyes drop down towards her shirt on you, and she laughs again, quickly leaning into the sink to spit her toothpaste out.
"what!" you smile, tilting your head at her eyes dancing across your face. she takes her time with finishing, leisurely swirling water in her mouth. she finally spits, drying her mouth with a hand towel and saying, "you're swimming in that shirt."
you reflexively look down at it, smoothing it down your body. "it's not even that big on me—it barely goes past my mid-thigh."
"if you say so," she chuckles, leaning in for a kiss. her lips move slowly over yours, taking her time in savoring your taste.
your lips part, and she turns towards the mirror to set the towel down with a dreamy smile slowly spreading across her lips, her blinks slow and partial. you lean against the doorframe with that same dreamy smile until you move back towards her, your hand moving to her shoulder.
abby is the one who deepens the kiss, tilting your head back to push her tongue inside your mouth and humming against your lips. the bathroom counter digs into your butt, and your knees almost buckle at her unhurried kisses.
both of her hands lift up to your head, grabbing each of your cheeks and pulling back to look at you. her eyes look more black than blue, her blown pupils swallowing up the silvery rings of her eyes.
she turns your back towards the doorway and begins walking you backwards to the bed, the mattress hitting the back of your thighs and folding you onto the duvet, your kiss never breaking once. your legs immediately wrap around her hips, ankles locking on the backs of her toned thighs.
her fingers snake under your shirt, swiping her thumbs over your belly and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. she parts from your lips for air, and you both break out in a fit of giggles.
you calm down and stare into her eyes, hurrying up to her face and dotting kisses all over her face, making her laugh even more.
abby turns her head away to escape your assault of kisses, and you still once she does. "i love you," she lowly says, her eyes lazily looking into yours.
"i love you, too," you whisper back. you feel your cheeks heating, so you cover them with your hands to cool them down.
"aww," abby sweetly coos, "you shy?"
"i have a crush on you," you say seriously, smiling when she laughs at the absurdity of your statement.
"well, shit, i sure hope so," she jokes and lowers herself, kissing you long and soft.
like an unspoken agreement, abby pulls back as you sit up and you both start removing your clothes, one by one, holding eye contact the entire time. the intimacy of it all crashes over you, and you'd drown a hundred times over if it meant you could freeze this moment in time, pause it and restart whenever you choose.
you lay on your back and abby crawls over you, sucking the skin of your neck and making your squirm. you reach to thread your fingers through her hair, but your fingers are stopped by the braid in her hair, now loose and frayed from being in all day. unfastening the rubber band at the tail, you comb your fingers through the braid and undo it piece by piece. once her hair is fully free, you scratch at her scalp, restless from her tongue moving on your skin.
with no warning at all, abby dips her hand into your underwear, tracing a feathery swipe through your folds. obviously, you jump, your nails digging crescents into her shoulders.
she gradually pushes her finger inside you, and you throw your head back with a groan, your legs opening unconsciously. she finds a slow and teasing pace, her thumb mirroring it while she rubs tight circles on your clit.
abby never breaks eye contact, watching you the whole time and how your face screws tighter in pleasure, listening to your closed-lip moans start to spill through your mouth. she never speeds up, though, and the pace is too slow to finish.
"abby... come on," you plead, trying to keep your eyes open long enough to look at her.
"yeah? tell me what you want and i'll do it," she pants, looking at you and begging for an order, for another way to make you feel good.
just one of her thick fingers can push you closer to the edge, but it's still not enough. your cheeks warm, but you find the words to say, "i need you. right now, abby."
not a second passes before she's pulling out of you and leaning over to the side of the bed, lifting herself back up with a black strap in her hand. at six inches, it was a perfect fit for you—not too small, not too big—and for abby—comfortably sitting against her core.
wasting no time, she slides the tip up and down your cunt, lathering it in your slick before pushing her hips forward and sliding in, inch by inch. she hovers close above your face, observing every twitch in your body. her own jaw is dropped all the way, her lids low as she uncontrollably bucks her hips and pushes the last of the strap in. a guttural groan falls from her lips as if she was holding her breath the whole time, a whiney breath followed by a hushed curse coming from you.
she drops to her forearms, her hand moving to thread through your hair and cradle the back of your head. when you start to squirm, she pulls out almost all the way and smoothly pushes back in. finding a steady rhythm, her hips tenderly pump into yours, hypnotized by your little noises and how your hair splayed around your face in a halo.
this was exactly why abby preferred missionary, but right now her pleasure takes over and makes her forget everything but you as her head falls into your shoulder, her hand tensing around the nape of your neck.
"i—" she struggles to get out— "am so lucky to have you. god, i'm so glad you're mine." she continues breathing praises into your ear, your huffs getting louder and her breaths becoming more labored.
she feels your legs trying to lock around her torso, and she pulls back to watch your face as she always does. "look at me, look at me," she rushes out, trying to catch you before your orgasm.
you pry your eyes open and pull her forehead to yours. "together, please."
"i know, i know. just..." she trails off, trying to focus, her hips suddenly jerking with her orgasm
as if on the same wavelength, you cum a second after her, you two sloppily kissing and moaning into the other's mouth. you both twitch and spasm, the sheets damp with sweat and slick.
after taking a minute to catch her breath, abby pulls out, wincing at the strap's base kissing her puffy clit. she quickly takes it off and lays down next to you, you immediately curling up to her.
she rubs her hand on your arm, quietly murmuring, "good night, pretty girl," and pulling the sheets up, rubbing your skin until you fall asleep.
@picklesarenice69 hi queen
click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶
#mystellenia 𐑂°‧₊#ellie#ellie tlou#tlou ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fic#ellie williams fluff#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby the last of us#abby x reader#abby anderson x reader#abby x y/n#abby x you#tlou#the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us x reader#the last of us x you#the last of us x y/n
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your sick matt fic was so good!! can u make a part 2 sorta (or not) where hes finally recovered but now his gf gets sick and he has to take care of her?
a/n: got to writing immediately i fear
content ahead/warnings: sick!reader x matt sturniolo, vomiting, fluff, not proof read lol, other shit idk
part 2 to this
TOLD U SO
A rush of utter heat wraps you whole, and you feel unconsciously frustrated as you twist and turn from out of Matt's grasp. Hoping for some sort of light and feathery breeze to hit your sleeping body.
You subconsciously begin whining in your sleep, the feeling of only hot and thick air doing nothing to cleanse your body, your nose stuffing itself from a simple sniff of air. You raise a few fingers to rub your still-closed eyes together, meeting directly with your burning sticky skin. Your unreasonably high body temperature sends a quick shock through your body, still rubbing your eyes.
"You all right, baby?" Matt shifted to his side, his voice low, gravelly, and husk. Without even considering your options, you immediately shake your head no. His large hands make their way to your forehead, and he feels himself getting upset. "You're burning hot, sweetheart."
If you were half asleep before, you were now just opening your eyes. An undeniable wave of physical exhaustion punching you in every bone of your body. "I told you, we shouldn't have kissed. You were too close to me the entire night, I knew you'd get sick too." He huffs, stressed out for you, his hands pressing the hair that stuck to your face due to accumulated sweat out of the way. You frown deep.
"You got me sick." You point out, your soft voice matching his with its roughness crackles, you feel your sore throat form almost immediately and you wince. "No, you're the one who kept wanting to kiss me and rub all up on me." He shrugged in defense and you can't argue with that.
"As long as I get to kiss you some more today."
He chuckles, able to get up from the spot on the bed and head for his bathroom. "You're unbelievable, kid."
Your eyes dart to the sound of the running bathroom sink and the gross sloth feeling of continuing to lay in this bed any longer. As soon as you were back to normal, you would be deep cleaning this room front to back. You stiffen, making up the mental courage to lift yourself out of the bed.
Lifting your head up first, a wave of utter wonkiness punches you in the face, your head feels like it is spinning in your mind. The migraine was forming now, but you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, making it to the bathroom.
You mentally feel the strength of your legs and thighs even when still laying on the bed, and then you look at the ground. You huff a whine, your body too hot for your skin. "Matt." You call for him, he answers immediately with a "You okay, sweetheart?", the sound of foam and a toothbrush in his mouth.
"Help me make it to the bathroom." You murmur, softly peeling the blankets from off of you. Matt walks back in, and in seconds he scoops you up. With a hand under both your knees for support and a large hand on your back, he takes you to the bathroom as you yelp at the sudden action. You figured the soup you made him last night definitely helped.
"Feeling better, hm?" You mutter, holding onto his neck for better support. He turns his head to look at you, kissing your lips with a long peck before kissing your neck, you get a mild taste of toothpaste in your mouth, scrunching up your nose. "Enough, Matt. Or you'll get sick again." You warn as he places you to sit on the bathroom counter.
"Then it'll be a cute never-ending cycle of us getting really sick and kissing each other." He said it like he was fond of the idea, looking at you then himself at the mirror, going back to brushing his teeth.
"Not a good thing." You point out, turning your back to stare at your reflection. You looked bedridden, your hair a messy bunch and your skin sickly flushed. "You look gorgeous though, so that's a plus." He rinses out his mouth, bending down to the height of the sink as you take the opportunity to run your hands through his knotted hair, fixing it for him.
He stands back up again, turning to look at the shower before back at you. You raise a tired eyebrow. "You think I should try for a shower? I feel disgusting and I think I've recovered enough to take one." He looks for your opinion on his question and you offer him a lazy shrug. "You're an able adult with a mind of your own."
"Yeah, but, I need to know what you think." He stands in between your legs, resting his hands on both your thighs. "Whenever I do something without your approval, I always regret it." You can't help it, you kiss him again. "Take a shower." You pull away and he grins. "But make sure you dry your hair really well."
"I know, I know." He winks, taking off his shirt as you drop to your feet. The sudden weight against the floor is a lot for your feeble sick body, you use the counter to lean on for help, before your knees buckle and have you fall. "Careful!" Matt urges, his eyes widening and a quick hand holding you still by the waist. You offer a smile. "I'm okay."
You turn the sink on, splattering your face with cold water. The temperature difference being so ultimate, it has you squeeze your eyes shut and take it all in for a moment. Washing your face, you hear the shower faucet turn on and Matt enters it from beside you.
"Make sure the water is hot on your skin!" You yell over the clattering water from the shower, making sure he heard you. You were always bossing Matt around like a mother, being an older sister definitely taking a load onto your personality. You dry your face, going in to brush your teeth now, hearing Matt turn the faucet as steam begins to form around him.
"Not too hot, Matt."
"I'm not into the whole idea of accidental suicide, so don't worry about that." He says over the water.
"You can't die from that." You correct, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.
"God, even when you're sick."
You chuckle, giving Matt an opportunity to close his eyes under that hot water and let your laugh melt through his ears.
"I'm gonna take a piss." You announce, rinsing your mouth out and peeling your pants down to your thighs as you sit on the toilet.
"You better not fucking flush." He ordered, making sure you heard the warning in his voice.
You wiped, getting back up and flushing, darting out of the bathroom. You laugh at the sound of Matt screaming your name due to the sudden temperature change of water until sudden dizziness takes over your sight and mind. For a full second, your vision blurry so bad you genuinely couldn't see anything as your head spins in circles like a basketball.
"Fuck." You gasp, dropping yourself onto the unmade bed you and Matt slept in, trying to get your mind back together.
-
Not even a whole 10 minutes pass and Matt was out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel as he searched for you, seeing you dead asleep on his bed. Just then realization dawns upon him that today he'll need to look after you, the same you had. Any feeling of playful irritation left him and he was now changing into his clothes, his blue eyes on you as he tried to figure out how you took care of him so he could repeat that action.
Medicine.. Soup. Soup. He wondered if there was any left. Finishing putting his clothes on, he shuts the door quietly behind him, not wanting to wake you up. The environment around him definitely made it obvious that Chris and Nick were awake, seeing them seated in the kitchen.
"Matt!" Chris happily calls, seeing him much better than yesterday. He smiles, taking a seat at the table as he watches Nick cook up breakfast. "Are you feeling any better?" Nick asks, putting sausage on a plate. "Yeah, all thanks to her," Matt points to the direction of his room where you're sleeping. "But at what cost." He sighed, feeling the guilt of getting you sick.
"What? She got sick too?" Chris wonders and Nick frowns. "Aw fuck."
"Yeah. She worked so hard yesterday, too. I feel so bad." Matt sighs, grabbing onto the fork Nick handed him and taking a quick bite from the breakfast. It wasn't your cooking, the flavor dull in his mouth as he chewed it down. The sound of murmured worries erupt from his brothers. "Whatever, is there any of the soup she made left?"
Chris almost jumps at the mention of the soup. "Dude, did you try it? It was so fucking good."
"Yeah. She made it for me. Is there any of it left?" Matt repeats himself, Nick shakes his head. "Nah, fucking Chris over here finished it all." Matt turns to glare at his brother.
"What?"
"You don't even like soup."
"Your girlfriend's soup doesn't count though, you've seen the way she cooks."
He was right, Matt couldn't argue with that.
-
Almost the entire day had passed and you had practically nothing in your stomach. Matt had tried anything, but your feverish appetite kept you from swallowing anything down. You claimed the food was either under seasoned, not cooked well enough, too cold, and more. Matt had gone out with Nick to the store to buy you pre-cooked meals, but the thing with you, you can smell if something isn't homemade from a mile away.
He holds the spoon of rice to your mouth, but you twist your head the other way, refusing to eat it. "Please, baby, come on." He begs, "You need to eat, you have to have food in your system so you could take the medicine."
You huff, shuffling under his blankets, looking for something. "I'll just take the medicine now."
He clicks his tongue, signifying no. "Nope, you will eat this whether you like it or not." He holds your hands down to shove the spoon in your mouth, but your head dodges it immediately, turning the other way. He groans your name, you stick your tongue out.
"I'm not eating that shit."
"Yes, you are." He grabs ahold of your jaw, locking it in place as his separate hand shoves the rice in your mouth. "Chew." He holds your jaw tight, closing it for you, knowing you were gonna spit it out. You furrow your eyebrows, glaring at him as you chew.
His grip on you loosens and drops his hand when he's certain you won't spit it out. Wrong move. You spit the rice out immediately onto the plate. He yells your name before accepting his defeat. "You have to eat, or else you'll throw up, stupid." He grumbled after a little while.
"Nah, I won't."
-
Was being completely and utterly stupid a part of sick symptoms?
You were snuggled up onto Matt's side, watching a movie on his laptop, sneezing and coughing in every direction but his, determined not to get him sick again. Even if that meant you're getting his entire room contaminated. His hand was met with your bare skin that your big shirt failed to cover, his palm sneaking into your shirt and rubbing our hot skin up and down for some sort of comfort.
Now, what made you stupid, was that you still took the medicine. And halfway through the movie, your stomach starts churning. Your eyes widen at the sudden clench of your stomach and you jump up, immediately heading for the bathroom as Matt's hand disappears from your side. Bending down to the toilet, Matt jumps to his feet and follows you inside and you immediately start gagging into the toilet.
You throw up an empty stomach, which hurts more. Matt worriedly holds your hair back as another hand rubs your back, understand ing quickly what was happening. You gag, everything you consumed the other day clears its way out of your body. Matt winces behind you, determined to keep your hair out of the way as he watches the pained look on your face.
The feeling chimes down, and you stand back up, dizzier than you were before, with Matt still using his hands for a make-shift ponytail before dropping it down. You feel yourself almost fall, grabbing onto his forearms for support, taking a few steps toward the sink.
Rinsing your mouth, Matt speaks, "Is it too soon to say I told you so?"
You decide to wash your face, too. "Shut up, bitch." He chuckled nervously from behind you. You felt disgusting and exhausted. "I need a shower." You mutter, rubbing your eyes as sick tiredness gets to you again.
"Not today!" He declares, motioning you back into the bedroom. "I feel so sweaty and gross." You mumbled, leaning on him, not really wanting to use any effort for yourself after that god awful vomit experience. He notices, preferring to pick you up than have you walk on your own.
"I could get you a new set of clothes?" He suggests instead, laying you back onto his bed. "Mmm." You hum in approval, laying fully on your back, too tired to even speak anymore. You felt worse than you did in the morning.
He grabs some folded clothes, all of which belonged to him as he looks back at you. Your eyes were closed, your breathing out of order as you tried to steady it again. You feel both of Matt's thumbs hook around each side of your waistband before slowly shoving them down, his cold fingertips brushing against your burning hot body. Taking the pants off you, he takes one of your legs and puts it in the leg hole of sweatpants that belonged to him, repeating the action on the other leg before pulling it past your thighs and to your hips. He ties the strings around your waist so it wouldn't fall off you.
"Thank you, Matt." You slur, barely able to open your eyes again as your mind begins going blank. "Anything for you, love." He softly takes your shirt off of your head as you lift your arms up lazily for some sort of help. Matt grins at your lazy action, putting a graphic t-shirt over your head. You seemed completely out of it, so he puts your arms through the holes for you, making sure your stomach is fully covered. "Sleepy, huh?" He says more to himself than you.
A small part of your mind hadn't completely fallen asleep, your ears picking up on it but not registering what he'd said, humming in response to make it seem like you were still awake. Matt fixes your position on the bed. It was only 8:00 PM at night, and he still needed to film a car video in a few hours. He knew exactly what he would bring up.
#inkray#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#the sturniolos#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#the sturniolo triplets#stomboli#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt#matt sturniolo blurb#nicolas antonio sturniolo#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfiction#nick sturniolo smut
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DESPERATELY needing a sequel to the sex pollen! Fic,,, they keep the chems and cooper takes some either on purpose or by accident and poor vaultie is going to have to consider restraining him 👅 he's too feral (in the BEST sense)
A Flame in Your Heart Pt. 2
Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)
CW: established relationship, cursing, NSFW MDNI, slight deviation from TV show, slight OOC Cooper, perverted thoughts, oral (fem recieving) drug use, alcohol use, dub-con (from drug use but consent is very clearly given!!) sex-chem usage! p in v, p0rn w/o plot, absolute filth, riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, multiple irradiated cream pies, fluffy ending, briefly proof read, possible spelling/grammar errors
AN: and just like our man Hancock needing love, had to make sure ol’ Coop got some love too. 😉 I’m glad this one has done so well! I hope I did your ask justice Anon! Thank you again for your request and I hope you enjoy the absolute FILTH that is this sequel. 👅
After your accidental discovery of the sex chem that led to your crazy sexcapade, Cooper decided to pocket the borderline heat inducing drug for a later use. He’d be a liar if he said the idea of *him* experimentally taking it hadn’t crossed his mind a plethora of times since the incident. Would it have any effect on him? Would it make him as sensitive and desperate as you were? Or would his body take it in stride like everything else? He figured there was really only one way to find out the answer to his curiosities. So one night, when you hadn’t any bounties the next day, were stocked on supplies and just had a chance to stay and hole up at the mini-mart, that’s exactly what he did. He popped it, chasing it with whatever liquor was on hand at the time in his flask hidden in his duster, waiting for it to start to take effect.
In the time that he had taken the pill without your knowing, you were running around cleaning the place up some, and then making dinner. Little did he know, you had snuck one for yourself just a little prior when he wasn’t looking, also thinking that tonight would be the perfect night to go all out like the last time. He smirked to himself as he watched you run around everywhere, watching your hips sway as you walked, paying close attention to your ass that was mostly covered in the shorts you were wearing, save for the bottom part of your ass cheeks that poked out some and the back of your bare thighs each time you’d bend over. It had been a while since the last time you two had a chance to do anything intimate other than a short quickie in fear of raiders catching you in, quite literally, a vulnerable position. It was as his eyes began to linger and follow you that he started feeling the unbearable heat you complained about, coupled with the way that he was now painfully hard in his pants in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. He contemplated walking up behind you and pressing himself against you to make it known, yanking your little ripped up shorts and panties down and taking you right then and there, but he resisted. Damn was he hard as fuck though. It was actually beginning to become a bit of a problem for him, he couldn’t move without it brushing against the fabric of his pants, or seem to find a way to sit comfortably unless he had his legs spread. Then he’d think about how pretty you’d look on your knees, not caring about the dirt on the floor as you’d sit between his legs with his fat cock in your mouth. He grunted softly to himself as he slid his hand into one of his pockets incase you would turn around to look at him and see the tent in his pants.
Little did he know that you were doing some of the teasing things on purpose, bending over in front of him when you didn’t need to, taking off your shirt when you complained about it being too hot. You were about ready to skip dinner to head straight for dessert, but you knew you had to play this out, and you needed to play it smart. Poor Cooper on the other hand wasn’t holding up as well as he thought he would, it was as if it got worse and worse in cruel phases. First is the absurdly high body temperature, higher than normal. Then came the perverted thoughts he couldn’t shake as he stared at you, then the throbbing to his dick, and it only intensified the longer he went without some form of relief.
“I ever tell you ya look damn good in them shorts, sugar?” He asked, practically staring holes into you as you’d bent over in front of him to pick up a few stray things off the floor. “Plenty of times, but I’ll always take some more compliments. They’re a hot commodity when they come from you” you said back a little too flirtatiously as you stood back up far too slowly for it not to be intentional, paired with a mischievous grin to match and his dick damn near jumped in his pants. “You bend over one more god damn time, I ain’t responsible for what happens next, little lady” he threatened, making you give a sound of intrigue at his threat before giggling as a heat coursed through your body from the thought. Being bent over the couch again as your legs were spread and his hand rested in your hair wasn’t a half bad spot to find yourself in. In fact you craved that, hoping the chem would help you release that inner whore he liked so much. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. Is it a “not making it through dinner” kinda night tonight then?” You asked teasingly before he did a “come hither” motion with his finger, urging you closer to him before patting his lap for you to take a seat on. “It’s a “not even making it to dinner” kinda night sweetheart. And I don’t think I’m the only one thinkin’ I’d rather have dessert first for a change” he said, making you grin even wider and god how he just wanted to make those pretty eyes of yours roll into the back of your head. You climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs as you sat down with a grin, your hands roaming his chest and beneath his duster to signal him to remove it as you leaned in close. “Well then take it if you want it so bad, honey” you challenged, making him give an amused hum in response before leaning up and pulling you into a needy, heated kiss. You smiled into it as you rolled your hips against his, earning a deep, guttural groan as his hands soon found purchase on your ass, roughly squeezing it in his large hands. He enjoyed the moans that left you from his rough treatment as he made your hips continue to roll against his as your hands traveled along his chest. “I see what left ya so needy for me, took one of them lil’ Date Nights you were trippin’ on a while back. Been achin’ to fuck you stupid” he said, making you giggle as his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck. “Mmm…well we’re certainly in for a treat. ‘Cause I took one too” you replied, making him chuckle.
It didn’t take long before Cooper found his way between your legs, what you hadn’t been expecting was the fact that he had you sat down on his face. Sure he’s eaten you out before, but for a man who needed to feel in control and dominant in just about every situation in life, it was nice to let that go for a little bit. “Fuck! Oh god, Cooper…” you moaned as his tongue violated you, sinking deep into your entrance, then working its way up to tease your clit. You sighed blissfully as your hips rolled against the wet muscle, making him groan as you used him. His hands gripped your thighs roughly, keeping you against him and allowing you to do what you needed to seek release as he devoured you like you were his last meal. “So good f’ me” he rasped out before going to suck on your clit, leaving you screaming for him as it brought you closer. You were embarrassed by how fast the knot in your stomach was already close to snapping, blaming the chem for the way it’d get you so worked up you’d be cumming quicker than you normally do. Or at least you would be if it didn’t feel so damn good. He moaned into you at the taste of you, watching all the faces you made from beneath you so he had the perfect view of you, listening to all your pretty sounds, it was all too much for him to handle with such a powerful chem in his system. You felt him groan into you as you came on his tongue, feeling his body move to buck his hips into the air as he reached his peak without a single touch. You sighed happily as you worked yourself down from cloud nine, bucking your hips against his tongue gently before finally letting up and letting him move. “Well ain’t that somethin’” he said as you both shifted lower to straddle his lap before seeing cum painting his lower stomach and still leaking from his cock that twitched with need.
You gave an intrigued chuckle at the sight, taking his heavy cock in your hands and working it up and down, using his cum as lube. He hissed at the sensitivity he normally never felt, he usually had a remarkably quick recovery time if he wanted to go multiple rounds, but it was apparent that this chem had all sorts of effects that made him feel human again. “Been a long time since I had that happen” he said, making you grin. “Kinda hot if you ask me” you replied, making him give a raspy laugh in response as he softly tapped your ass to get you to stop using your hand already and ride him. He watched as you sank down onto him, moaning as you felt him stretch your walls out before he cruelly slammed himself the rest of the way inside of you. Your body jolted from the sudden intrusion, white hot electricity climbing up your spine from it before he was moving you at his own brutal pace. “Ain’t got time for subtleties here, darlin’, certainly ain’t got the patience to go slow” he said, and judging by the loud moans and way your eyes were rolling to the back of your head already as his tip bullied the apex to your cervix, he figured that was alright by you. “Cooper! Holy shit…” you managed to say through your moans as your hands rested against his chest, doing all you could to hold on for dear life as he used you like a sex toy. “Fuck sugar, always squeezin’ me so damn tight, even after all the times I fuck you” he commented, enjoying the way your face would twist up in momentary pain each time he’d first slide in like he was too big for you to handle. He always loved that, enjoying the way you’d eagerly prove you could take it all, hungry to have him balls deep so that he could reach all those spots inside of you your fingers couldn’t reach. The sound of skin harshly slapping skin, the squelching of your pussy as he drilled into you from below you and your shared pants and moans filled the air like a symphony of pure, unadulterated sin. You just couldn’t get enough of it, and neither could Cooper.
He groaned as he looked down at the sight of his cock disappearing inside of your tight cunt, watching as a ring formed around the base of him from your excitement. He always wondered how a sweet thing like you managed to fall for such a depraved man like himself, but it was moments like this that reminded him that you weren’t as sweet as you lead on to be. He watched as you sat back on the haunches of your feet, your thighs jiggling, tits bouncing as your eyes clenched shut from bliss. “Huh-uh, eyes on me pretty lady” he said, pulling your attention down to him, your half lidded gaze falling upon him made him about ready to cum again if he wasn’t careful. Your mouth hung partially open as your brows furrowed from pleasure, and judging by the pitch of your moans and how close together they were getting, he could tell you were close. “Come on baby, cum for me. Wanna see that pretty face twist up and scream for me” he said, making you bite your lip as your mind clouded over, not a single thought in your head save for his name falling from your lips. “Cooper! Gonna cum, gonna cum!” You warned, your hands coming to you with your breasts to add some stimulation to send you over the edge. “That’s it, go ‘head. Let go f’ me” he responded, talking you through it as your legs clamped against the outsides of his thighs, your walls squeezing around him as you came with a scream of his name.
He wasn’t much farther behind, a few sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts later and your walls were painted with his seed, a groan leaving him as he throbbed inside of you, feeling you milk him for all he could give you. You looked at each other, gasping for air and sweat lightly collecting along your skin but it wasn’t enough to sate the beast inside you both. So rather than enjoying the after glow, you were being manhandled into a new position. This time you were on the couch, on your hands and knees as he lined himself up to your leaking hole from behind. His fingers collected his spend that was dripping from you and down the insides of your thighs, grinning as he pushed it back inside. “Bet you’d love if I fucked a cute little baby into you, wouldn’t ya?” He asked, and the thought sent a pleasant tingle straight to your core at the idea of being bred. You whimpered as he teased his tip up and down your slit, collecting your combined cum together as lube as he chuckled. “Too bad them days are gone” he said, soon lining himself up to your entrance finally and pushing in with little resistance. You moaned and arched your back as he sheathed himself in one thrust, your hands clenching the arm rest of the couch as support. “Don’t mean we can’t practice incase they ain’t” he said, starting his brutal pace once more, leaving you slack jawed as your head tilted back to moan from how he hit all sorts of spots inside of you that you loved. “Yes! Want that so bad” you moaned, making him chuckle. “I bet you do” he replied with a smirk, his hands gripping your hips once more as he fucked you, watching your ass and thighs jiggle from the force of his hips meeting yours. “Wanna be bred, have my babies?” He asked, making you whimper as your walls tightened around him at the thought. “Want that so bad, please!! Knock me up” you moaned, truly lost in a whole different world from the pleasure. He gave a dry chuckle, enjoying the way you were so honest and so carefree when it came to sex, it was like you were a whole different person when he was inside of you. “Bet you do, such a good little whore for me ain’tchya?” He asked, making you moan once more at the use of praise and degradation together for something so blissfully sinful. “Yes! All yours, Cooper” you replied through your pants and gasps as he angled his thrusts to press against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside of you that drove you crazy.
He watched as you began to melt, lowering your upper body down and leaving your ass up to create the perfect arch for him to keep hitting it. “Yeah, ya like that spot, sweetheart?” He asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious but he was a little lost himself in it all, never the type to ramble so much during sex but you both realized that chem could do some pretty interesting things. “Yes!! Don’t stop, don’t stop! I’m so fucking close!” You pleaded, and who was he to deny you when you looked this good for him? He gave a devious grin as his hand reached down into your hair, pushing your face into the couch cushions. Not enough to suffocate you, but enough to establish just who was in charge this time. Despite your face being held into the couch, your moans were still loud as ever, not that he’d ever complain. “Cooper!!” You cried as you came powerfully around his dick, your walls squeezing him tight as your release gushed and covered his cock, sending him tumbling over the edge himself as he spilled inside of you once more. “Fuck…I love it when you do that” he said, tapping your outer thigh as a signal to move positions, lazily flipping yourself on your back as he kicked your legs apart once more, already ready to go at it again. “Can gimme one more, yeah sugar?” He asked you, and he knew like this, you’d give him anything he ever asked for. So it was no surprise that your legs locked around his hips as he slipped inside of you for the third time that evening.
As an hour or two soon came to pass, you weren’t exactly sure how long it’d been, time was completely lost on you at this point, you both were just happy to have found yourselves finally sated from the powerful effects of the chem. You both panted, looking at each other with grins at the fact that the most memorable night of your relationship had just occurred once again. “That will never NOT be fun” you replied, making him laugh dryly as he took a swig from his flask before offering it to you once he was finished. You happily accepted as you took a few sips from it, unsure whether it eased or burned your tired throat even more but you didn’t care, it was something at least. “Been thinkin’ whether it’d actually work for me like it did for you, guess we got that answer” he said as he got up to find something to clean yourselves up with, making you laugh in response. “Well, was certainly my kinda date night” you said, watching him walk back over with a wet rag in hand to clean you up then himself before slipping his briefs back on and his shirt. “Too bad dinner’s cold now” you said, making him shrug nonchalantly, earning an eye roll from you as you slipped your underwear and a shirt back on, then dished out two bowls of your famous stew he loved so much. “If it’s made by you, ain’t nothin’ out there that could possibly ruin it” he said, kissing your head sweetly as you handed him his bowl, both of you sitting back on the couch together.
You leaned your head against his shoulder with a soft, happy smile while you watched some of the tapes left behind to play in the TV, having something akin to the wasteland version of movie night. His arm draped around you to pull you into his side, keeping you close to him as he smiled softly down at you. He couldn’t believe that he managed to snag one hell of a woman out here in the wastes, but one thing was for sure, he certainly wasn’t letting you go now or ever.
#cooper howard#fallout#cooper howard x reader#fallout x reader#cooper howard smut#the ghoul#asks#fallout smut#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul smut
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as it was ; suguru geto.
pairing suguru geto x f!reader
word count 4.2k
synopsis suguru comes back, only to find that you've been waiting and wanting this whole entire time.
content contains modern no curses!au, gojo's sister!reader, brother's best friend, creampie, pet names (good girl, baby), most of the fic is geto's introspection, possessive sex, mutual pining/longing
author’s notes im not even horny for geto like that, but i wanted to write angsty smut abt spreading ur legs for a guy that left u & who else is better for this than geto <3
First words are always a bit tricky to get right, especially whenever he has to take into account that he essentially ghosted you a couple of years ago, after taking your virginity no less, and now he’s back in the godforsaken city he swore he was never coming back to, and he’s just at a loss about what to say and more importantly, how to say it.
He supposes an apology, for starters, would be a good first move. And maybe it would be, could be, should be, if only he wasn’t him and you weren’t you, and the two of you were not something so confusing and intricate that it’s hard to put into words and harder still to describe with emotions. The two of you are something raw and painful, both of you taking turns playing both sadist and masochist.
Even to himself, the extent of your relationship sounds twisted, but there was always an underlying purity to it, something that justified its existence. To this day, Suguru Geto is certain that you’re the only person who ever loved him for him, with a love so pure and just that he tries to hide it from everyone else before they can get their filthy hands on it and taint it, twist it into something it’s not.
Sorry I left won’t cut it, and Geto doesn’t even bother trying to come up with any other variations of apology because it’s not necessarily your forgiveness that he’s come back for. The opportunity to say “I’m sorry” and have it actually mean something has long since passed. All that’s left to say is the truth for why he left, which for some odd reason, seems even harder to do than his original disappearing act.
I missed you — that’s a slight improvement. It’s the truth, if not an understatement of it. He doesn’t regret leaving Tokyo, he just regrets leaving you. Which he could say, if you would actually open the door to face him.
He figures it’s what he deserves. He deserves worse, if he’s going to be entirely honest. He deserves a slap to the face, or a kick to his balls, or for you to tell him that you hate him, that you never want to see him ever again.
He knocks on your apartment door, harder this time, as if it’s something urgent. And maybe it is. He’s felt more like himself than he ever has after moving, but the solitude of the countryside got boring soon after, leaving him only with the ghosts from his past to keep him company. He thinks if he doesn’t see you, in the flesh, he might actually go insane.
He knocks again, only to be met with more silence and a door that’s starting to become more of a familiar sight than he would like. Fuck, what is he even doing? Showing up here was a bad idea to begin with, and it’s only seemingly getting worse by every agonizing second that ticks by. Even if you do open the door, there’s always the chance that you won’t let him get a single word in — that’d be the smart choice, anyway.
And you’re a bright girl, don’t get him wrong. Something about the Gojo bloodline makes your family incapable of producing anything less than prodigal sons and daughters. If you’re not proof of this fact, there’s your older brother.
Yet another reason why showing up here is such a shitty plan. Satoru will catch wind of his visit, and when he does, he’ll show no restraint in showing Suguru what all of his private boxing lessons are good for. A broken nose and missing tooth would be a fair exchange to see you for at least a second, though. A tradeoff that he doesn’t need to debate on.
You have to leave your apartment eventually. Suguru dances with the idea of just making camp outside your door and waiting for your stubbornness to fizzle out. It’ll be embarrassing, and your neighbors will surely have something to say about it, but it would be well worth it.
He hears the ding! of the elevator opening and human reflex causes his head to turn at the sound of the noise.
Oh.
The world becomes contradictory at this very moment. The air suddenly stills, but the atmosphere itself seems to come alive at the same time. Stagnant air, bursting with electricity and something awe-inspiring. Everything seems to slow down, but suddenly he’s acutely aware of just how alarmingly fast his heart is beating. It’s been a while since he’s last seen you, not even bothering to check up on your social media because he knows one DM from you would have him crossing the ocean to be back by your side.
The reason why you weren’t answering your door was simply because you weren’t even home. Relief floods his body, makes him less tense, only for him to stiffen up once more whenever his eyes trail over to the warm body awfully close to you.
Or maybe it’s the other way around, since you’re the one clinging onto him.
You and Kento Nanami both look like you two have seen a ghost, and all things considered, you wouldn’t be wrong.
“What are you doing here?” You’re the first to speak, with Nanami’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and it’s this closeness that’s the only thing Suguru finds himself able to focus on. It’s been years. He shouldn’t feel this way. You’re free to do whatever you want with whoever you want. It’s your life. He’s the one that chose to walk out of it, anyway.
“I just wanted to talk,” he answers. Which isn’t a lie. He wanted to talk. He wanted to fight and make up and fuck your brains out and beg for forgiveness and cook you breakfast in the morning and warm your bed, amongst other things, too. But, he figures the condensed version of his list will do, especially considering that three’s a crowd, and most of his itinerary was for your ears only. “Did I come at a bad time?”
You bite your bottom lip, slowly removing yourself from Nanami’s grip. Nanami looks at you first, concern evident in his warm eyes, eyes that you wish were just a bit darker and colder, so that they would be the ones you’re so accustomed to drowning in.
You like Nanami well enough. He’s kind and looks out for you, and sometimes you even consider making a move on him first since he’s too much of a gentleman to cross any boundaries. Then again, you don’t think Nanami sees you as anything more than a little sister, and the last time you fucked one of your brother’s best friends…
It’s why you just give Nanami a smile, one that tells him that you’ve got this under control. His facial expression doesn’t give any indication of what he’s thinking, but the glare he sends Suguru’s way says enough.
Suguru can appreciate the fierce protectiveness Nanami has towards you, but it doesn’t mean he likes it. Especially when it’s Suguru that’s considered to be the threat.
You move to unlock your door once Nanami makes his reluctant exit, and when you enter your apartment, you conveniently don’t shut the door. Suguru trails behind you.
You turn on the lights, your living room and kitchen blending together in an open-floor plan, bathed in the stark, white lights hanging from your high ceilings. Your apartment, at least what Suguru can see of it, is tastefully decorated. Courtesy of your mother, he’s sure. He would ask about her, ask how she’s doing, but he figures now’s just not the right timing.
It doesn’t seem to be the right timing for anything he wants to say. He wants to mention that he’s thought about you, thought about reaching out — sometimes to explain himself, and other times just to discuss the mundane aspects of life — but he thinks that would be even worse than apologizing. It would be cruel of him to dangle this information in your face, haunt you with the knowledge that all this time, he’s truly been avoiding you. Knowing you, you would have questioned him on why he didn’t bother reaching out, and he would have been stuck admitting that it’s simply because he was too scared that you wouldn’t answer.
“Want a drink?” You ask him, back facing him as you peer into your fridge. He catches a glimpse of shiny glass bottles, water bottled in Europe and with the optimal pH balance, he’s certain of it. His throat feels a bit dry, but he tells you no.
“I drank enough water on the drive up here,” he tells you, which again, isn’t a lie. Suguru feels a bit pleased with himself, even if it is a bit narcissistic of himself for expecting a pat on the back for doing something so simple. He supposes it’s just because he’s gotten so used to never being honest with himself — or others, for that matter — so his current streak for telling the truth seems like something to celebrate.
“I didn't drink enough.” You say, and he can’t tell if it’s alcohol you’re talking about or water. You’re a lightweight; yet another trait that seems to be passed down the Gojo family. That explains Nanami escorting you home, then.
“Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?” Suguru helps himself to taking a seat on the white couch in your living room. Because there’s no walls separating the two different spaces, he can still look at you from this position as you rest your elbows on your kitchen’s island, as if needing the support.
“If you wanted me to know, you’d let me know.” It’s the way you say it that reveals that this comment isn’t made just in reply to his current question, but for everything else Suguru was going to follow it with. Don’t you want to know where I went? Don’t you want to know why I left?
It’s amazing what humans are capable of. Nearly six years since the two of you have lost contact — since Suguru broke all contact — and yet, you can still read him just as well as he can read you. You see him for what he is, not whatever mask he wants to disguise himself with, and it’s scary, he thinks. Scary to be seen by someone. And nice. It’s nice to have someone know you’re a monster and still not run away.
He’s not quite sure what that says about you.
“It’s a bit of a funny story.” He says, trying to steer this conversation to a more lighthearted tone even though the two of you are nowhere close to feeling light and the jury’s still out on whether or not Suguru Geto has a heart. “You don’t need the reminder, but don’t ever tell Mei Mei a secret you want to keep.”
The mention of your shared friend — if Mei Mei can even be considered one — makes the corners of your pretty mouth tilt upward. Mei Mei was born with a silver spoon, but the running joke is that it wasn’t in her mouth because she bartered with the doctor and blackmailed him into giving her a gold one. If you have the funds, Mei Mei has the information you’re looking for.
She’s the only number Suguru saved in his phone contacts, and it’s only because he knew that if he needed anyone else’s number, Mei Mei would readily give it after her Venmo request goes through.
“Of course she would tell you my address.” You say, but you don’t sound upset at all. Just amused, like this whole situation is something endearing, and you don’t harbor any ill feelings towards either of them, even though both Suguru and Mei Mei technically violated your trust. Suguru more so than Mei Mei, but, well, semantics.
“Aren’t you mad?” The “at me” is unspoken.
“Mei Mei is a free spirit.” It’s a joke, and Suguru makes a sound from his throat that resembles a laugh. Mei Mei may do whatever she wants, but nothing about her comes free.
He knows you know what he was actually asking. He’s been trying to gauge your reaction to everything he says, trying to see if you hate his guts or not.
“I missed you.” You tell him suddenly, and while he’s imagined those words coming out of your mouth, it still shakes him up a bit. It’s hard constantly posturing as if he’s cool and collected, nothing ever bothering him, his body and expression never betraying him. But it’s his heart that gives him away, and it’s heart that you hold, and no matter what face he puts on, he knows that you’ll know what the words he won’t say are.
“Don’t apologize.” You continue, closing the distance between you two and opting to take a seat next to him. There’s about six inches of space separating you two. The distance shapeshifts in his mind, sometimes becoming mere millimeters and sometimes feeling more like there’s an ocean between you both.
The sorry was on the tip of his tongue and it traveled all the way there from his heart. It would be a waste of a journey for him to not say it, but he’s certain the apology would do more harm than good, even if it is genuine.
Suguru stands out against the stark white of your apartment. Your mom likes the aesthetic of it, and since it’s your parents’ money, you merely shrugged and let her do whatever she wanted. In his black pants and black sweatshirt, he looks almost out of place in your home.
The thought that he doesn’t belong makes your heart hurt more than the burn of the alcohol from tonight going down your throat.
You don’t waste time wondering where Suguru went because for all intents and purposes, you never even knew where he came from to begin with. You knew him since you were children; your favorite out of all your brother’s friends because it was always Suguru who let you tag along and trail behind them. No one really knows much about Suguru’s life, his past, present, and future all a big blur to anyone but himself. From the way he slowly turns to face you, dark eyes meeting yours, you start to think of the possibility that maybe not even Suguru is an open book with himself.
Suguru looks like a shadow, standing out from the brightness of everything that is surrounding him in your living room. You want to ask him the questions that plague your mind ever since he’s been gone, but you don’t, because you’re scared he is a shadow. One wrong move, and he just disappears from your grasp once again.
There are the hard-hitting questions, of course. The ones that search for why he left and why he told no one and why he didn’t bother taking you. Then there are the gentler ones that would still require him to rip himself open and bare himself to you, things like how’s your new place and meet anyone interesting? You feel his gaze travel from your eyes to the slope of your nose and the apples of your cheek, downward to your lips. The intensity of his stare makes you nervously lick your lips, a tiny, quick action, but his eyes greedily take in the sight of the tip of your pink tongue casually making an appearance, only to retreat behind your pretty pink, glossed lips.
“Are you mad that I came back?” Suguru finds himself taking the role of interviewer, since it’s evident to the two of you that you know better than to bother asking him any questions. He feels like you’re treating him a bit like a stray cat, all cautious and scared of provoking him or forcing him to run away. He wants to tell you that this is not the case and that he actually plans on staying this time around, but he hasn’t entirely convinced himself yet, so he’s not going to break your heart with any more empty promises.
“No. Like I said, I missed you.” He wants to be able to blame your honesty on account of you being drunk, but he knows that you’ve just always been honest to a fault.
“You shouldn’t.” He tells you this, and you scoff. Probably because Suguru is the last person who should be giving any sort of life advice.
“Guess what I’m thinking.” You say, and Suguru feels something come alive from within, like he’s been frozen for the past six years, and the more he gets to bask in the warmth of your presence, the more he starts to defrost. There’s not a single hint of anger or malice in your tone, just the familiar, lighthearted, girlish tone of yours.
“That you think I’m a creep and want me to get the hell out.”
You frown, rolling your eyes, tucking your feet beneath you to get more comfortable on the couch.
“I’m thinking about that last time you told me I shouldn’t be doing something.” There’s a gleam in your bright eyes that clearly spells out desire, and Suguru is very, very close to defrosting. In fact, there’s a heat that’s beginning to settle deep in him, and maybe he should know better than to indulge in it, but it’s been years, and you are sitting here in front of him, pretty and fresh, and his hindbrain takes the driver’s seat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he does know, and he knows that you know that he knows, just as you seemingly know everything about him. Maybe not about his childhood — or lack, thereof — or what he’s been up to, but you know the important stuff. The things that make him tick and all the words he fails to say. Three words. Three words that he doesn’t think he’ll ever muster enough courage to say to you, but from the look in your eyes, you already know.
“I’ll jog your memory.”
And suddenly, your lips are pressed against his. You’re kissing him, and like the lovesick fool he is, he’s kissing you back. It’s pure muscle memory, maybe even animal instinct. He thought that leaving Tokyo was the right thing to do, and for the most part, it was, but with your lips perfectly melding with his own, he thinks that leaving was stupid.
Making out is such a juvenile ordeal, but he relishes in it because Suguru feels like he’s spent most of his youth trying to outrun it, and now he’s trying to take advantage of what his boyhood should have consisted of. The kisses are now bordering on sloppy and hazy, and somehow, you end up straddling his lap. He’s hard, and he should be embarrassed at popping a boner just from wet kisses, but it’s you. You have an effect on him that no one else does. His Achilles. The one weakness only he can feel.
Suguru knows that he is not a good person because a good person doesn’t go behind their best friend’s back and fucks their little sister. He had told, thirty minutes before introducing you to the feeling of his cock stretching you out, that the two of you shouldn’t be doing that. Suguru knows that he is not a good person because he cannot be any happier at the fact that history has a funny way of repeating itself. Six years later, and the two of you are back in a similar position.
You’re starting to rut against him, your dress riding up your thighs and exposing more of your skin to him. Suguru helps himself to handfuls of your soft flesh, squeezing in a manner that can’t be defined as gentle, but he loves how you take him as he is without any sort of complaint. All you do is let out a low moan, your pantyclad pussy grinding against his equally clothed bulge.
Your movements are a bit desperate, frenzied. You’re getting lost in pleasure already, and he hasn’t even done much to elicit such a reaction. The idea that only he can get you this riled up with doing so little makes him impossibly harder, and he looks down, realizing that you’re so soaked, your panties are practically translucent.
The two of you have the option of taking things slow, but neither of you want to do that. When you spend some time starving, you don’t savor the meal, you scarf it down.
That’s what the two of you are — hungry, greedy — as you both hastily strip as much clothing as you can bear to spend time getting out of. Your minidress is tossed carelessly on the living room floor, and Suguru can only bother with unzipping his pants and pushing down his briefs just enough to free his cock.
The intrusion of the tip of his cock entering your wet, needy cunt is less of an intrusion and instead akin to something rightfully returning to where it belongs. Your hands are tangled in his hair, and he relishes this feeling. This wholeness, this concept of being complete.
The inviting warmth of your pussy makes him want to cum right on the spot, but he can’t waste it. He’s spent years pining after you, missing you, and he wants you to feel like the time apart had been worth it.
“I missed you.” This time it’s him who makes the admittance. You tighten up at this confession, and it evokes a low groan from him, almost as if you had forced the sound to come from all the way down his throat.
“I know.” You gasp out, not able to speak clearly with how deep Suguru is hitting. Your living room is filled with the wet clicks and slaps of skin against skin, your juices coating his cock every time he pulls out.
The vein on the underside of his cock rubs against your walls, and the slight curve of it enables him to hit that gummy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You’ve never given much thought to cocks, but you know that Suguru’s is the prettiest of them all.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He grunts out, lips brushing against the soft skin of your neck before biting down; gentle enough not to draw blood, sharp enough to still leave a mark. You rock against him, hips moving in tandem with his thrusts, the steady hum of pleasure continuously building up in your lower belly. You are dizzy with pleasure; blanketed in it, being spoon fed it.
He doesn’t need you to say it to know it’s true, but you moan it out anyway, both to appease him and because there’s a sort of pride in knowing that you belong to him.
“I’m yours. I belong to you.” The words are separated, punctuated, by the little gasps for air you give out because with every word, he thrusts up even harder, hitting that special spot that will have you cumming all over him, making a mess.
“Yeah?” It comes out sounding like a shaky breath, and he’s close, you know it, you can feel it.
Calloused pads belonging to fingers much larger than yours are being pressed against your clit. You’re soaked, and the dryness of his hands combining with your overall slickness gives way to delicious friction that has you cumming with his name as a broken moan filtering through your swollen lips.
“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He mutters, relishing in the way your walls tighten, spasm, clenching and unclenching sporadically as your body loses its energy and you press yourself up against his chest.
He follows after just a few more sloppy thrusts, the last one forcing himself as deep inside of you as possible. His cum is hot and thick, and it’s filling you to the brim. If he pulls out now, it’ll flood out of you, and the thought is both sad and hot at the same time. You want his cum inside of you, to serve as a reminder that this is real, that he’s real.
But seeing the physicality of him staking his claim, white seed dripping out of you, turns you on. Him, too, with the look of fascination and boyish wonder he has in his eyes as he stares at how the two of you are connected.
Before he can bother with confirming a round two, a sharp knock on the door has the two of you comically jumping a bit in surprise, both of you glancing at the door and then at each other.
“[Name], I know you’re in there!” You freeze.
Satoru.
Suguru wants to try to calm you down, whisper to you that everything’s going to be fine, but the anger laced in his best friend’s — former best friend’s — voice is enough to make him freeze up, too. Not just his icy tone, but what he says.
“I know you’re back, too, Suguru.”
#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#geto suguru smut#one shot#jjk x reader#jjk smut#angst#drabble#imagine
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(extremely talented, creative) stalker
alexia putellas x reader
based on this and a poem from when i was little. i chose alexia because she fit the character more and i rushed this immensely because i was being pestered for attention by multiple creatures. oh and i went for something decently light-hearted bc these hozier fics have been affecting my soul and ruining my spotify daylists.
happy monday people x
p.s. not proof-read because it's lunchtime and i'm hungry (edit: i just did my proof-read now and i've realised that it was in fact not lunchtime??? it was past lunchtime and i was just zoned out!)
Alexia doesn’t care much for art. Sure, she admires the effort, the time such talent sits behind a canvas and marks something that was once blank until others begin to value it. She agrees with the masses about the beauty of quaint watercolour paintings of the coast, and she lets Mapi rave about charcoal and graphite and oils as if she understands what is so special about the varying media.
She knows she is only here today because the art is about sports. The gallery seems almost reluctant to allow the athletes in, worried they have brought with them their football boots and cones to dribble around, but it would be bad practice to prohibit the muses from the collection. She isn’t an idiot, though, and she knows that no amount of forced reading about the artist and other sophisticated matters will slip her seamlessly into the crowd.
There are lots of people; people she has never heard of, but make it clear they are far superior to her by the way in which their eyes politely drop to the tattoos inked onto her calloused hands. Their skin is soft, accustomed to the stems of crystal champagne flutes, and the drawings that hold so much personal meaning to the footballer are scrutinised to the point of silent… offence.
So much for appreciators of art, she thinks to herself, counting down the minutes until it is acceptable for her to leave.
With a huff and a vow to never – no matter how much she earns – forget where she has come from, Alexia staggers, uncomfortable in these particular heels, towards the painting she deems easiest to understand.
It is the largest in the room: deep, crimson reds on top of familiar greens, streaks of gold falling out of a ponytail.
Call Alexia egotistical, but anyone would be drawn to a painting of themselves.
The artist has done a good job, she guesses, not entirely sure if there is a deeper meaning behind the grass stains on her socks or the crumpled shading of her Spain jersey. It is a little creepy that someone she does not know has captured her likeness so expertly, so practised.
“The nose isn’t quite right,” a voice says beside her.
Alexia turns in surprise, amused enough by the stranger’s observation to examine her painted face, eyes not drawn from how majestic her image is beginning to seem. She sees no obvious issue, and so she replies, “I think it’s fine.”
“Just fine?”
She is still staring at herself, now impressed by the grandeur of the painting; its size, its quality. “Well, I am unsure how someone painted me so accurately when I was never called in for a… I don’t know, a consultation? And it seems a little weird to me that my hair is loose, because I tend to slick it back so it doesn’t fall out of my ponytail, and, you know, I always have something written on my boots, but otherwise, it’s fine. I doubt anyone here has ever watched a football match, so none of this will matter to them.”
“It doesn’t bother you that someone might pay millions for a painting that you have deemed not-quite-right?”
The voice is somewhat too interested, and suddenly Alexia swivels around to face its owner properly, worried she has spoken her mind to a journalist.
“Those millions go to a charity that will improve women’s sports every–”
You are definitely not a journalist, although once, when art really wasn’t paying, you had off-handedly typed out a few articles for one of the bigger galleries.
Alexia knows you are not a journalist because you are dressed to be in front of the cameras, not behind them.
Your hands hang by your sides, but in a rather unnatural manner as though you are itching to do something else, and she is briefly overcome by the horror that you seem elegant enough to be a potential buyer. Has she put you off?
“Oh,” you interrupt, “don’t be so profound. Sometimes you footballers sound like change-making machines.”
“There is change to be made,” she responds indignantly.
“Hence the exhibition,” you allow with a little smirk, nodding towards the rest of the room. Although the biggest of the collection, you had asked for your painting to be displayed in the corner; a filter, in a sense, to ensure no one throws money at the largest thing in the room just because they can. “It creeps you out to be painted?”
The question is curious, but Alexia no longer feels like she has been caged in an interrogation room.
She thinks about her answer for a moment, torn between returning to gaze at the expanse of the scene in front of her or staring at you, wondering if you count as one of the works of art on display.
“I have never met the artist,” she explains neutrally. You laugh, and it sounds infused with champagne and nervousness. “What? It’s like having a stalker. An extremely talented, creative stalker, but someone who studies me in secret nonetheless.”
“No, I understand. She must have researched you until the ends of the Earth.”
“The artist is a woman?” She isn’t sure she is surprised, but she asks you anyway, wanting to anchor you to the spot.
“Alexia, this is an exhibition for women’s sports.” Your point is valid, but you have said her name and she is far more intrigued by the way that had sounded to praise you for your intelligence. You let out an airy breath and click your tongue. “I’d even say, given by the way she has painted you from the back, that the artist fancies you.”
“It’s the squats,” she easily replies with a giggle. “Who is the artist?”
You take a step towards her, the sharp points of your heels clacking against the concrete floor. She follows your index finger to the white plaque beside the canvas, reading the name written in small, black letters.
“I haven’t heard of her.”
Alexia sounds so thoughtful that you have to hide your smile behind your palm, coughing to provide an excuse for the action.
“Because you’ve heard of quite a few artists, haven’t you?”
“I know the main four.”
“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”
“No.”
Again, you laugh, and it is melodious and rich and Alexia wants to hear it for the rest of her life. Which is not normal, she tells herself, because you are some loaded stranger and she is only here for another hour before she can escape back to the pitch and her teammates who like her tattoos and admire her and respect her hard work without seeing her as some tacky social-climber who scrounged an invite to an area of society where she is institutionally unwanted.
“Picasso,” she then offers, rather petulantly, looking at you with a childish frown. In her head, she estimates the distance between your bodies, noticing how you have not returned to your original position.
“Ah, well done. He’s quite niche.” She doesn’t appreciate the teasing, and so she steps sideways to… put a stop to it somehow. Obviously, the plan had never truly been formulated, and it comes across as a half-lunge to push you away, but then you are swinging your arms as though the conversation is boring you and she desperately wishes you’d stay put.
“What do you think about the painting?” she fires into the shortened space between you, the question wrapping around you like a rope that ties you to the spot.
“It’s boring.” She scoffs, because after all, it is a painting of her. “The poor artist must have been tortured by the task, having to force her eyes to stay open while watching football matches.”
And if Alexia were not so distracted by the way your swinging hand has begun to brush against her own, she would probably catch you out there and then.
(But your touch is electric and she is otherwise engaged.)
“Like, come on, can’t the sports photographers just get their pictures blown up? No one needs such an outrageously huge portrait of Alexia Putellas in their home, or stadium, or whatever. I reckon the artist is now regretting the angle she painted from, anyway, in case some pervert with more money than sense bids for it and hangs it up in his bedroom.”
“Bedroom?”
The tips of Alexia’s ears go red, a stark contrast to the expensive silver hoops she sports, and you stop your fidgeting, hand resting on top of hers – perhaps unintentionally – as her misunderstanding wedges an awkward pause into the middle of your rant.
“Sorry,” you apologise, “that was probably not the best thing to say, considering it’s a painting of you.”
Alexia runs through what you have said, hoping her subconscious has caught it while her mind was preoccupied with what your sexual orientation might be. “Why have you come here if you are so against the principle of it?”
“I was required to,” you explain, through half-gritted teeth and a jaw that tenses with leftover annoyance from a conversation you had with the coordinator.
Seizing the opportunity to get a humorous punch back, Alexia quickly fumbles out a, “someone’s important.”
She’d celebrate her victory over you, the way you blush in embarrassment, if you hadn’t started anxiously playing with her fingers. Suddenly, the air that bridges the gap between you is set alight and Alexia stares at where you are connected.
You hastily pull away. “Sorry,” you say for a second time. “I have to sell this, and I’m nervous.”
“Sell wh– The painting?”
“No, Alexia, I’ve been sent by Real Madrid to hold you hostage so I have to sell this act.” Briefly, fear washes over the footballer’s face, tanned skin paling at the idea that you have a weapon concealed in the satin folds of your dress. Then, your hand makes a decisive movement and your fingers are intertwining with hers before she can run to safety. “I thought it was best to lure you in by flirting with you.”
“You’ve been… flirting with me?”
“God, imagine if I actually were here to kidnap you.” You hold up your joined hands so that she can see for herself. “Is your weakness women who bully you?”
She blushes again, unsure how to handle what you have insinuated.
Alexia grasps onto what little dignity remains and straightens herself, shoulders rolling back as she emulates the confidence she has been painted with. “Only pretty women,” she drawls.
She is about to use whichever line appears in her mind first, completely unashamed by it because she has guessed you would tease her no matter what leaves her mouth, but some evil, cruel person clinks a small fork against their glass, clearing their throat, and your hands quickly return to your body, your attention drawn away from the conversation.
“Thank you all for coming,” announces the event coordinator, clearly gearing up for a speech. “There will be time for more chatting later, but I cannot resist showing off our most talented artist any longer.”
You roll your eyes. The expression is directed at Alexia, who chuckles privately, sunshine blooming in her chest that you have spared a silent comment just for her.
“Y/n, darling, where are you?”
An authoritative gaze searches through the crowd and lands on you.
The dots connect, Alexia begins to feel like an idiot, and you are sashaying away before she can ask you to stay.
#woso#woso x reader#randombush3#barca femeni#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas
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Part 2 to the Dads Best Friend! Cillian 🥺🥺
anon is referencing this fic but this can be read without reading that first!!
warnings: semi-public/car sex, secret relationship, fluffy smut, l-bombs, age gap, dad's best friend trope
(gif credit @nofckingfighting)
"God, I hate this," he laughed thinly, and you raised an eyebrow as you stopped moving.
"Er, jeez, not exactly what a girl wants to hear when she's riding her boyfriend," you mumbled, and he pulled you a little closer before sweetly holding your face.
"You know I don't mean that," he sighed, "I mean this-- fucking in my car."
"Really?" you smirked. "I think it's kinda hot."
"It's literally hot," he laughed, "see how you're fogging up the windows?"
"Oh, so it's my fault, then!" you noticed with a grin, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
"Yeah," he agreed.
"Only 'cause you're making me do all the work," you accused.
"Making? No, no," he shook his head, "as I recall, you were the one who said you couldn't wait anymore, and told me to pull over somewhere so you could ride me."
"Oh, did I say that?" you feigned innocence as you flushed a bit from the memory.
"You said exactly that," he purred as he moved in to kiss your neck, "don't think I'll ever forget it." His hands found your hips and guided you to start moving again, whispering encouraging little praises into the crook of your neck: that's it, good girl, there you go...
You gasped as you picked up the pace slightly, a chill running up your back even with the aforementioned heat. "What's it you hate so much about fucking in the car, then, afraid to get caught?"
He smiled against your skin, holding you tighter. "No, fuck, that turns me on," he admitted, "I just hate it 'cause you deserve so much more, darling..."
You whimpered and held him tighter, rocking your hips faster. "Fuck," you whispered.
"You deserve a big, soft bed," he continued, "no cars or motels--"
"Or my parents' wine cellar," you reminded him.
"That was a terrible idea," he laughed softly, but it turned to a groan as he held you tighter and your walls clenched on him. "But fuck, darling, you deserve everything... no secrets, no hiding..."
You whined and arched your back. "Cill, c'mon, we can't..."
"I know," he sighed, "I know, but fuck, it's what I want. I want everyone to know. I want you in my bed every night. I want a ring on your finger--"
"Fuck!" you yelped, pushing yourself up against his shoulders. "You can't... you can't just say things like that..."
"I'm not just saying it," he insisted, grabbing your arms to keep you from moving too far away. "I told you from the beginning: if we do this, it's not just fun. You're mine."
Your face tried to muster some resistance to that, but the way you fluttered inside was obvious. He grinned and pulled you into him, hugging you tight and bucking his hips up into you until you moaned loudly.
"Fuck, I want you," he panted, "all of you. I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks-- I need you."
"Cill," you whimpered as you hid your face in his shoulder.
"I love you," he continued, and you looked at him again, staring right into his eyes to try to find any proof he was lying. "I love you," he said again, softer, and you bit your lip. How were you supposed to think while he was fucking you like this?!
"I love you too," you blurted out, and you realized that was the idea: he didn't want you to think so you'd have to be honest.
He kissed you, hungry yet sweet, and you whimpered as you realized how close you were.
"Gonna come," you warned with a gasp, "fuck-- Cill, god, I--"
"Say it again," he pleaded, barely breaking away from the kiss but still opening his eyes to look at you this close.
"I love you," you moaned out again, "fuck, I love you-- yes!"
You started to shake all over, and he held you close as he fucked you through it. "So beautiful," he praised as he watched you fall apart, desperate moans getting louder than ever as your head tilted back limply.
He pulled you closer and dropped his forehead onto your chest, groaning as he came with you-- even through the tingly numbness inside you, you could feel his cock pulsing against your walls.
You both took a long time to catch your breath, maybe both realizing the conversation that was waiting for you once you returned to reality.
"Did you really mean--?" you started to ask, but he pulled you into another kiss-- less energetic than the last, you were both drained and sweaty and glowing.
When he pulled back and held your face, you didn't need to ask the question again: he meant it, you knew he did. But that just opened up a new issue.
"What are we gonna tell my parents?" you laughed breathlessly, and he smiled back at you.
"I don't know," he admitted as he kissed your cheek, "but we'll figure it out. I just can't hide you anymore."
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Can you feed me some fics please?
Miguel has a size kink and m reader is much taller than him? Fucking Miguel rough and overstimulating him? Pretty please?🥺🥺🥺
For sure! Male!reader, top!reader, Dom!Reader, Bottom!Miguel, Sub!Miguel. Size kink, overstimulation, rough fucking, fucking in the kitchen because I said so. Minors DNI! Fem may interact but do not fetishize my content!
Miguel's face was pressed into the cold granite counter. Your hand tangled in his messy hair keeping his head down. You're much bigger build towers over him. Your larger build always got him riled up.
Your other hand is gripping his right shoulder for support. Your thrusts are harsh and fast paced, making him cry out. He's getting close to his orgasm, his cock twitching as his mind becomes foggy. He moans as he cums onto the cabinets below the counter. Your constant thrusts don't relent. You continue to fuck him, leaving no time for him to come down from his climax.
Miguel whines and grips onto the counter, his knuckles turning white. Tears well in his eyes as he whimpers. You grin wickedly and bend over him. Your broad chest pressed against his back, reminding him just how much bigger you are compared to him. You lick his neck, causing Miguel to shiver. Tears begin to fall from his eyes. His mouth hangs open, a puddle of saliva and tears begin to form on the counter. You snicker at the sight.
"Poor Miguel~." You coo, gripping the hair in the back of his head and pulling harshly, ripping a moan from his chest. His eyes roll back and he cums again. His legs shake under him, threatening to give out. Miguel shakes his head.
"To big." Miguel groans, referring to your dick. You smile, his comment fueling your pride and the fire burning in your abdomen. You bite the back of his neck, your teeth digging into his tan skin. Miguel is shaking from overstimulated, his brain is jumbled and foggy. He's whimpering and crying. Tears flowing freely down his pink cheeks. Your thrusts are becoming sloppy as you come closer to finishing. You rest your forehead on his strong shoulder as you bury yourself deep in him. You cum, filling him up. Miguel's legs finally give out, you quickly wrap your arms around his waist to keep him from falling.
"Ready for another round?" You whisper into his ear. Miguel closes his eyes and whimpers, knowing it'll be a long night.
____
A/N: Sorry this was so short and took so long. I've lost so much motivation to write in general. I'm also not feeling well mentally and physically. I'll put some other fics out when I feel like it. I'm in school and stuff like that, so it'll be a bit.
A/N: Ah! I read the comment and realized the your and you're problem 😭 I'll fix it now, I didn't do a proof read
#male reader#gay#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x male reader#bottom!miguel#sub miguel o'hara#sub!miguel o’hara#top male reader#top!reader#top reader#dom male reader#dom reader#dom!reader
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Hey, could you do a fic about Joel knocking up the reader, while living in Jackson? He's such a baby daddy and Everytime I read fics that says he pulled out during sex, I always think "hm, someday he's gonna get someone pregnant" since it's a very ineffective birth control hahaha
Thanks for the request 🥰 I’ve made this one more angsty from the last pregnancy request but it has a happy ending 😉💕
And Then it Happened
Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, PinV sex, Joel is an asshole, mentions of cheating, unplanned pregnancy, little bit of angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of abortion, cursing, fluff, anxiety.
A/N: did a quick edit on this so sorry about any mistakes 🥰
Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰
The weight of Joel’s arm around your waist felt heavier than normal and the way his hand was splayed across your stomach had anxiety coiling tight within your chest.
You should have told him last night, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He had seemed so happy and relaxed for the first time since settling into Jackson that you didn’t want to take from it.
A groan slips past his lips as he moves his hand from your waist to lay back against the mattress.
“Mornin’.” His voice is husky with sleep as he pinches the bridge of his nose, his body stretching out his tired muscles.
“Mornin’,'' you whisper back, a slight quiver in your voice as you turn to face him. He looks at you from beneath his hand with a furrowed brow, his eyes tracing the contours of your face as if he’s searching for something.
“Everythin’ alright?” His hand falls away from his face as he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
You hum in response, but you can tell from the expression on his face that he isn’t buying it. “I’ma try that again and this time I want the truth,” he turns on his side to face you, his thumb tracing along the seam of your bottom lip as you pull it between your teeth.
“You bite your lip when you're lyin’ darlin.” His eyes are full of warmth as they gaze at you, and you gulp nervously as the butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach.
Your breathing becomes ragged and your heart beats harder against your chest as you work up the courage to tell him.
“I’m pregnant,” you mumble quietly waiting with bated breath for him to say something. “Darlin, ya gotta speak up. I didn’t catch what you said.”
You can feel his thumb rubbing gently against your cheek and you have to close your eyes to stop the tears from falling. “I'm pregnant!”
The motion of his thumb stops. His hand pulls away from you as he sits up abruptly in bed, the movement drawing your attention to him.
“What?!” He stutters. His hand runs anxiously through his hair as he stares down at the duvet. You sit up and slowly reach out to him, but he pulls away, his eyes darting quickly to your face.
“I'm pregnant,” you whisper, almost on the verge of tears. His eyes drift to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “No!” He says it so harshly you flinch. “How the hell did this happen? I ain’t ever cum inside you.”
“I mean, pulling out isn’t a fool proof method, Joel. It just…” He’s shaking his head and when he looks at you again the warmth in his chocolate-brown eyes is gone.
“I ain’t ever got anyone else pregnant pulling out. You must be seeing someone else. It ain’t mine.” His words cut you deeper than any knife ever could. You pull the sheets over your naked body as you begin to sob.
He’s up and out of the bed in a flash as he quickly grabs his clothes off the floor. You want so desperately to reach out and touch him. For him to drop everything and wrap you up in his arms but you know that isn’t going to happen.
“I - I haven’t slept with anyone else. It’s only been you. I thought we were…” He scoffs as he turns towards you. “You thought we were...what? Together. It was just sex. I told you from the start I couldn’t give you more than that. That I couldn’t give you anything other than someone to share a bed with and you were ok with that.”
“I was. Until I wasn’t and now, I’m pregnant and whether you like it or not, this baby is yours.” You stand, pulling the sheet around your naked body as you move around the bed towards him. “I love you, Joel. I have for a long time I just didn’t want to scare you away. So, I kept it to myself. I know you have issues from your past and that you lost Sarah…”
“Don’t!” He shouts. “Don’t you dare bring her up.” His finger is pointed at you angrily and his breathing is ragged as he tries to keep himself calm.
“I’m sorry. I just meant that, I get it. You’re scared and that’s ok because so am I. But we can figure it out together.” You try to move closer to him, but he pulls back.
“I can’t.” He stutters, his eyes now fixed on your stomach. “I can’t do this again. I won’t. I’m sorry.” He grabs his shirt and throws it over his t-shirt before leaving your room, the door slamming loudly behind him as you stand there staring after him.
When you hear the front door slam shut you break down crying. The sound of your sobs fills the now-quiet house. You knew he wouldn’t be happy, but you didn’t think he’d abandon you.
Sitting back against the side of the bed you move your hand to rest over your stomach. “Guess it’s just me and you.”
***
The weeks that followed were tough. Joel avoided you as much as possible and when he couldn’t, he barely spared you a glance.
You had asked Tommy to stop putting you on patrol with him, it was too much being in such proximity to him when he wouldn’t even acknowledge you. People had started to talk so it was easier if you went your separate ways.
“Ya sure?” Tommy asked, his eyebrows raised in question. “You and Joel make a great team.” You nodded. “It’s for the best.”
“Somethin’ happen between you two. Joel’s been grumpier than usual.” He stood leaning against the door with a soft smile on his face.
“Just didn’t work out, that's all.” Tommy didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push you on it. “He ain’t gonna be happy bout this, ya know?”
“I don’t care. He’s gonna have to get over it. Also, I was hoping to speak to Maria. Is she about?” He nodded before tilting his head to the side. “She’s out back. Want me to get her for ya?”
“Is it ok if I head on back?” He nods, stepping aside to let you pass by before he grabs his denim jacket. “Will you tell Maria I’m gonna head out and find Joel. Gotta go and break the good news to him.”
“Sure. And Tommy, make sure he’s alright for me.” He winks at you before closing the door behind him. You make your way out back to find Maria planting some seeds, baby Luna cooing up at her from her stroller.
“Hey,” you say softly, hoping not to startle them as you walk out into the garden. “Oh hey, I wasn't expecting you.” She dusted her hands on her jeans as she stood to greet you with a hug.
“Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you about something. Tommy said he’s gone to find Joel.” Maria smiles at you before bending down to pick Luna up. “Sure, let's head back inside and I’ll make us a cup of tea.”
“So, what’s up,” she asks, placing Luna in her highchair and making her way to the stove to start boiling the water. You shift nervously from one foot to the other and when you don’t answer, Maria turns around to look at you.
“Everything ok?” Her eyes are wide with concern and when you start to cry, she rushes over and pulls you into a tight hug. “It’s Joel, isn’t it? I knew it. I told Tommy somethin had happened between you two.”
Her hands rubbed your back soothingly as you calmed down to a quiet sob. “I’m - I'm pregnant. It’s Joel’s.”
“Well, that’s obvious.” She teases as she pulls back slightly. You let out a little laugh before you sob again.
“Oh honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything I just ....”
“No,” you shake your head, wiping the tears from your face. “Joel doesn’t think it’s his. Well at least I think so…I don’t know. He said that he’s never…. ya know…cum inside me so it couldn’t be his but I told him that the pullout method isn’t guaranteed. Sorry, I’m rambling.”
Maria shushes you. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Jesus, I knew I didn’t like him for a reason. Asshole. You ain’t been with anyone else since he got here. Hell, anyone with a set of eyes can see you’re besotted by him.”
She pulls away and makes you both some hot tea before ushering you into the sitting room. “Here,” she hands you a cup and takes a seat beside you, Luna sitting happily in her chair eating some porridge.
“I don’t know what to do,” you whisper as you take a sip of the hot liquid. You don’t know if you can do it without him. “Well first things first, are you keeping it? If you don’t want to, we have options here. You can take some herbs that will terminate the pregnancy.”
Shaking your head, you place the cup on the coffee table. “No, I want to keep it. I’ve - I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Never thought I’d get the chance.”
“Ok, then we can help you. You won’t be alone in this. Tommy and I will be there and Ellie. Does she know yet?”
“No. I haven’t said anything, and I don’t know if I should. It’s not my place and besides me and Joel, we weren’t together like that.”
“Oh, bullshit. Who said that Joel? He’s more delusional than I thought. You two were joined at the hip, you were practically married. And look with Ellie it’s up to you but she is gonna find out eventually, I mean you’re gonna start showing and then what?”
“I know. I’ll think about it. What happens now?” You reach out and take your cup in hand again, sipping slowly on the warm tea. Maria smiles as she glances at her daughter. “Well, we have a scanning machine so the doctor can determine how far along you are and if the baby is doing ok. He’ll give you the vitamins you need to be taking and keep a regular eye on you.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. Didn’t think those were still available.” You smile over at Luna as she makes grabby hands at Maria.
“Yeah, we found one at the nearest hospital and Tommy brought it back hoping it would still work, and it did. He was a little over-cautious when I was pregnant.” She laughs as Luna bounces happily in her lap.
“We should get you over to him now, that way we know for sure what’s going on.” Maria stands and quickly bundles Luna into her stroller ready to take you to the doctor. You make it to the end of the street when you bump into Tommy and Joel.
They’re laughing at something Tommy said but as soon as they spot you Joel's face goes serious. All four of you stop and Joel just stares at you. It’s awkward. Tommy and Maria share a look, but you don’t notice, too caught up in the way Joel is staring at you.
“Where are my two girls off to?” Tommy asks as he pulls Maria in close for a kiss. The sound of his voice breaks Joel from his trance and his gaze drifts to Luna who's cooing up at him.
“Just bringing Y/N to see Jason.” You can feel Joel’s eyes on you again, but you refuse to meet his gaze, focusing instead on Tommy.
“You’re not sick are ya?” He asks, worried, as his eyes drift to you. You shake your head and glance at Joel before meeting his gaze again.
“Alright, we’ll leave you, ladies, to it. See ya home for dinner,” he says to Maria before kissing her softly. “Yeah. I’ve left everything simmering on the stove so just wait until I get back.”
Joel’s gaze follows you until both you and Maria are out of sight. “Alright, what the hell is goin’ on with two? And don’t say nothin, 'cause that ain’t nothin.”
Joel huffs out a breath as he stares at his brother, the crease between his brows deepening. “She’s pregnant,” He snapped.
“And you ain’t happy bout it, I take it?” Tommy asked, quickly masking the shock on his face. They continue to walk, making their way through town towards the empty bar. Joel exhales loudly as he takes a seat at the bar. “I don’t know how I feel,” he sighs as Tommy hands him a glass of whiskey.
He tips his glass in the air towards his brother before downing the golden liquid. “I never thought I’d ever be a dad again, not after…not after Sarah.”
Tommy refills his glass, taking a sip of his drink. “I know. But you’re a dad to Ellie, what's one more.” He leans across the bar, eyes focused on Joel as he picks at a beer mat. “And you love Y/N, even if you can’t admit it out loud. Joel, I’ve watched you struggle my whole life, I’ve watched you blame yourself for Sarah but guess what? It ain’t your fault. None of it is. This is your second chance at a normal life, if it were me, I’d grab it with both hands. Hell, I already did. We’re safe here. So, what’s holding you back?”
“I don’t deserve it.” He gulps back his second glass and bangs it down on the bar before standing and leaving Tommy alone.
“Stubborn ass,” Tommy shouts after him.
***
You’ve begun to show. A small bump that was barely visible from a distance but a clear sign to the people of Jackson that their community was growing.
Ellie had found out about the baby and has been practically living at your side since. Joel had told her after his night with Tommy and even though you’re not sure what exactly he told her, you’re happy it didn’t cause a rift between them.
“I hope it’s a boy,” she beams as she helps you prepare dinner. You smile at her as you cut up the potatoes. “I have a feeling it’s a girl. Call it mother’s intuition.”
“As long as I can teach them how to hunt, I’m happy with either.” You snigger and she smiles up at you, happy to see you laugh for once.
“Joel thinks it’s a girl too,” she says as she peels the carrots, her smile fading when she realises what she’s said. Her eyes drift to you and when she sees you standing still, hands shaking slightly she pales.
“M’sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to bring him up…I just….” You shake your head, placing the knife gently down on the countertop as you untie your apron. “I’m just - I’m gonna just head to the store. I completely forgot the flour for dessert.”
Rushing out the door you let your legs carry you as you try to catch your breath. He thought you were having a girl. Had he been talking about the baby to Ellie? Does he want to be a father now?
Your mind was racing with these thoughts, and you were distracted when you turned the corner. A gasped breath leaves your lungs when you see Joel laughing at something the pretty blonde woman said. Who the fuck was she?
You feel your heart shattering into little pieces and your lungs tighten as you take in the happy expression on his face. You have to get out of here, you think to yourself, but before you can move, he turns and catches your gaze.
Something flashes behind his eyes, and he starts to move towards you but you don’t want to talk to him. Can’t bear for him to tell you he’s moved on, so you run home.
The door closes behind you and you rest your head against it, willing your lungs to take the breaths you desperately need. A soft knock startles you, but you already know who it is.
“What do you want Joel?” You ask as you turn to face the wooden door. You can hear him sigh deeply from the other side. “S’not what you thought, darlin. I promise.”
“And what is it you think I thought?” You can feel a deep anger bubbling away beneath the surface of your skin.
“Please - please just let me in and we can talk.” You scoff. “Now you wanna talk. You had over a month and instead of talking to me, you completely ignored me.”
“I know, darlin’ but please, just let me say my piece and if you want nothin to do with me still, I’ll leave you alone.” That ache in your chest starts again and you find yourself torn between wanting to hear him out and telling him to fuck off.
“Fine. You have ten minutes.” You turn the handle and open the door to find him standing with his hands in his jeans pocket, head facing the ground but as soon as he hears the door open, his gaze meets yours.
“Hey.” His eyes take you in, lingering on the swell of your stomach, something he hadn’t noticed until now. His breath catches at the sight, and he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you. He knows he can’t.
“So. You’ve moved on then?” You start as you move further into the house, Joel hot on your heels.
“What?! I ain’t moved on, no that’s - shit that’s not what that was I promise.” He sighs, running his hand down along his face. “She’s helping me with something.”
“Sure.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Does she know you’re about to have a baby you want nothing to do with? That you abandoned the woman who loves you.”
“You shouldn’t love me. I’m not a good man. I ain’t good enough for you darlin. There are a lot of other men here that are far better for you than me.” His hands are at his side now and you can tell from the way he flexes them that he wants to reach out to you.
“I don’t want other men. I just want you,” you whisper. “Do you love me?”
“It’s not that simple. I - I’m scared darlin’.” His voice breaks and you can see he’s holding back tears.
“I hate to break it to you Joel, but love is fucking scary. It strips you raw to the bone and leaves you vulnerable but that’s also the beauty of it. I never thought in a million years I’d find it in this fucked up world and yet I did. I love you, Joel. I love Ellie and this baby and even Tommy and Maria and loving all of these people put me at risk of getting hurt but I love them anyway.”
You take a deep breath, eyes drifting towards the window before you meet his gaze again. “I know you’re scared. Scared to have connections, scared to love but guess what, so am I. Everyone is. But I’m willing to take the chance, are you?”
He nods as he releases a breath. His shoulders relax and the hard planes of his face soften as he shifts closer. It’s like a switch has flicked for him and he realises what an idiot he’s been.
“I’m sorry baby. I’m sorry for everything. I never meant those things I said that morning, I was just scared is all. I know that ain’t no excuse but it’s the truth.” His eyes drift to the small bump visible beneath his plaid shirt.
He wondered where that shirt had gone. He smiles softly at the idea that you’ve been wearing it this whole time. He wants to reach out and touch you. To run his hand over your bump but he doesn’t.
“Let me prove I can give you more, that I can be the kind of man who deserves you and our baby. Please darlin’,” he begs, his eyes pleading as he moves closer. You feel a swell of emotion rising in your throat, threatening to spill out and even though there’s a small part of you that still hates him for what he said that morning, an even bigger part loves him more than life itself.
Words escape you but with a simple nod of your head, he slips an arm around your waist pulling you close. The other cradles your cheek, his thumb rubs circles into your skin as he stares at you lovingly.
“I’m gonna make it up to you baby, I promise. We’re in this together, always.” A watery smile spreads across your face and his eyes drift briefly to your lips before he begins to lean in. When his lips touch yours it’s as if a spark has been lit and you can’t help the soft moan that slips out.
The kiss becomes more heated by the second and he pulls you closer, so close that you can feel the warmth from his skin seeping into you, that you can feel the evidence of his arousal against your thigh. The sound of a door closing upstairs startles you both. “It’s just me. Is it safe to come down now? I’m just gonna head to Dina’s and then you two can get back to sucking the face off each other,” Ellie calls from the hallway before she makes her way into the kitchen.
Pulling away with a laugh, Joel rests his head against yours. “So, you weren’t flirting with that woman?” You ask for the second time. He chuckles, unable to think that your jealousy is anything but cute.
“I promise you, darlin’. I was just trying to get some stuff for the baby. Was gonna gather as much as I could for a nursery at the new house and then I was gonna come to beg for forgiveness.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. Thank fuck, you think to yourself as you wind your arms around his neck. He slips his own tighter around your waist and you close your eyes and breathe him in. He smells of whiskey and citrus. He smells like home.
“What new house?” You question as you pull away slightly.
“Oh, you told her. Finally, can I come with you when you show her,” Ellie’s voice sounds from behind you and you both turn to face her.
“No kid, you got school, remember,” Joel says, his voice a little stern as he tilts his head towards the front door.
“Ugh, fine. Whatever. I’ll see you later.” She huffs out as she turns to leave. Joel turns his attention back to you and he smiles down at you as you look at him with confusion on your face.
“Come on, got somethin’ I need to show ya.” He links his hand with yours and guides you out of the house and down the street. “Where are we going?” You ask as you look around, the houses slowly fading away as he pulls you towards a small house at the edge of Jackson.
“This,” he says as he pulls you to stand in front of him. His arms slip around your waist to cradle your bump. “Is home.”
“Home?” Your voice squeaks as you take in the once-dilapidated house, now fully refurbished. He hums as he rests his head on your shoulder. “Yeah, home. Been working on this since you told me you were pregnant. Roped Tommy into helpin’ me too. It’s not much, but it’s ours. Somewhere for us to call home and be a family.”
A strangled sob escapes from your lips and he turns you in his arms, holding you close as he tilts your chin upwards. “The minute I left you that mornin’ I regretted it. Went straight to
Tommy and told him I wanted to work on this for us”, his hand moves to rest on your bump, “for our family.”
“It’s got plenty of room. Four bedrooms, a nice size kitchen and a living room. Ellie already has her stuff moved in and I think I’ve got most of the things we’ll need for the baby. Now all that’s left to do is ask if you’re willing to move in with us. With me.”
“Yes. Yeah, I’m ready.” He smiles brightly at you before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.
“Wanna see it, darlin’?” You nod your head and twine your fingers with his as he leads you inside. You gasp in awe as you take everything in. It’s beautiful. Homely. Somewhere you can picture yourself for the rest of your life.
“I love it, Joel.” He smiles, “come on, I wanna show you the nursery.” He leads you up the stairs and down the hall to the last room on the left. He holds the handle in his hand and turns to you with a smile. “Ready?”
You nod. Heart racing as he slowly opens the door, and you gasp when you see the way he has decorated it. A pale yellow adorns the walls with pictures of animals in small frames. There’s a small crib in the middle of the room and a little dresser to one side. On the other, there’s a rocking chair and a small bookshelf beside it with a few books already littering the shelves.
“Joel - Joel it’s amazing. I can’t believe you did all this. Where’d you find everything?” He stands beside you with his arm around your waist. “Found most of it on patrols. Borrowed the chair from Lauren,” he leans in close, his breath hot on your ear, “the woman you were jealous of. And I made the crib myself.”
“You made it? Oh, Joel…” you begin to cry, and he pulls you close kissing the top of your head. “Shh, baby. It’s alright. I want our little one to have the best is all.”
“Thank you. I mean it…this is amazing.” He leans in and kisses you softly. “Gotta provide for what’s mine. Now, how about I show you our room,” he teases as he quirks a brow.
You shake your head as you giggle. “Go on then.” Your new shared room is right next door and when you walk inside you take a quick look around. It looks cosy. A huge bed, two lockers and a bookshelf with some of your favourites.
Your heart swells but you don't get to dwell on it as he quickly closed the door behind him and pushed you gently onto the bed. He stood there staring, his eyes taking in the curve of your body and the swell of your stomach with hunger you’d never seen in him before, and you shuddered.
“Been thinkin’ bout this for far too long, darlin’.” He breaths raggedly, his eyes watching carefully as you begin to remove your clothing. He gulps and a strangled groan slips past his slightly rough lips as he takes in the sight of you bare, the peak of your nipples pebbling with the cool air.
He quickly shucks off his boots as he climbs up the bed towards you, his body completely covering you. His mouth finds your nipple, pulling it between his teeth and you moan loudly, fingers running through his hair.
A sudden need washed over you. A need to feel him against you. To feel his bare skin against your own as you both seek out that pleasure you’ve wanted since that last morning.
With a shaky breath, you slowly move his shirt up his body and he’s quick to help you. Pulling the shirt over his shoulders, he tosses it onto the floor and his jeans quickly follow leaving him bare. His hazel eyes stare down at you and there’s a vulnerability behind them.
You reach up wrapping your hand around his neck and you pull him into you, your lips meeting in a searing kiss. His hands grip your hips tight as he nestles himself between your thighs, careful not to crush you or the baby.
You angled your hips, urging him to sink inside you and take what he wanted. Taking himself in his hand, he notches the head of his cock at your entrance and with a roll of his hips, he sinks into your heat.
“Fuck, darlin’. So, god damn tight,” he says with a strangled groan. He begins to move, slowly at first pulling himself almost out before pushing back in.
The sound of your soft whimpers and the sight of you writhing in pleasure beneath him has him losing his fucking mind. He grabs your leg, throwing it over his hip as he begins to pound into you, the bed groaning with each thrust of his hips.
“Fuck, darlin’…I’m-I’m so close…need ya to…need ya to come first,” he groans into the skin of your neck, his teeth nipping you softly.
“Joel…. oh god I’m gonna….” You gasp as your orgasm pulses through you. He lets out a strangled groan at the feel of your cunt clenching tight around him.
His hips begin to falter and the only sounds he lets out are soft grunts as he nears his release. He rolls his hips again and again until he cums, groaning loudly as he spills inside you.
He slowly pulls out and reaches over the side of the bed to grab his tattered t-shirt, using it to clean you up. He collapses onto the bed beside you pulling you into his chest.
His fingers trace a pattern into your skin. “Ellie said you think it’s a girl.” You watch as a smile edges its way onto his face, his palm resting gently over the swell of your stomach.
“I don’t think darlin’, I know. She’s gonna be pretty like her mama. Cheeky like her big sister and she’s gonna have me wrapped around her little finger.” A hint of sadness washes over his face and you reach out to touch his cheek.
“Hey, you ok?” He smiles then, his eyes glossing over with unshed tears. “Yeah, darlin’. I’m happy it’s just…”
“You’re thinkin about Sarah.” His eyes widened. How do you always know what he’s thinkin?
“Yeah. She always wanted to be a big sister. She’d be so excited about this little one.”
“Maybe we could have Sarah be her middle name. A way to remember her big sister.” Joel smiles pulling you into him as he crashes his lips to yours. “You are amazing’ darlin, you know that? Got my whole world right here,” he says, cradling your stomach once more.
“Don’t forget about me,” Ellie shouts from her room. You both turn to look at the door. “How the hell did she come in without us knowin’?” Joel shifts to lean on his elbow. You shrug your shoulders as a small giggle escapes you.
“Think it’s funny do ya?” He begins to tickle you and you start to laugh loudly. “Are you two done? Because I’m starving.”
Joel laughs then, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Suppose we better get up and make some dinner. Then I’m gonna rope Tommy into helpin’ me move your stuff over.”
“Sounds like a plan, Miller.” You watch as he dresses and makes for the door. He turns to face you, “better get used to that name darlin’ cause you’re gonna be a Miller soon too.” With a wink, he opens the door and makes his way downstairs leaving you alone, shocked at what he just said.
Mrs Miller. You like the sound of that.
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#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x female reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal fanfiction
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Basic Training
Ghost X M!DH!Reader X Soap
Warnings: ANOTHER DOG HYBRID FIC BC I MISS THESE, threesome, poly gs + r, plugged on both ends 🤞, LORD yall gon have a field day with this one i hope, orgasm denial, throat fucking, collars and leashes!! kicks feet and giggles, tail pulling, you bark for them (I would do the same), not proof read, love yall
“Jus’ couldn’t keep your fuckin’ mouth shut, eh mutt?”, you hear the lieutenant snarl at you as he pounds into you, your head resting on the bed as he keeps a firm hold on your hips. Your hands have a strained grip on the bedsheet, whimpers and pathetic moans leaving your scratchy throat. All the noises leaving you leave your vocal cords exhausted, but his pace never slows. You look up at the sergeant, your eyes trailing down to his hand that’s slowly pumping his own cock. He gives you a sly smile, moving closer to tuck his hand under your drool soaked chin. He raises your head up, a whine leaving you as his eyes dance between you and Ghost. He attempts to shush and sooth you lazily, lowering your head down to place you directly in front of his twitching cock. You waste no time in getting it in your mouth, desperately trying to do whatever you can to please him. Soap strokes his hands through your hair, rubbing delicately at your ears.
Ghost rolls his eyes at Soaps coddling, giving him a look. The other just gives a playful roll of his eyes and forces your head down further, the sight of you choking and gagging on his dick making him just want to hold your head still and fuck your throat raw. Simon begins to groan, fucking into you hard. You feel Ghosts hand on the back of your head, forcing your head down onto Soaps cock as he releases inside of you, the action taking you by surprise. He pulls out of your hole, your lips still sealed around Johnnys cock. Your hole twitches at the feeling of warmth leaking from it, your tail falling down shamefully to cover it up. You yelp when you feel a firm grip on it, forcing it back up.
“Wish you could take a peak at this, Johnny. Would make ya wanna have a turn back here,” he teases, letting go of your tail and hitting you lightly on the hip. Soap pushes your mouth away from him, listening to the way you whine at now being completely empty. He gives you a stroke on the head, before gently pushing you onto your back. Ghost reaches around on the bed before grabbing at you, lifting up your head off the bed to slide a collar around your neck, one they had gotten you a while ago and have been forgetting to use every once in a while. Your tail gently swishes at the feeling of it, but the click and sight of a leash catches you slightly by surprise. Before you know it, your throat is yanked at by Ghost, a grin on his scarred face. The way your cock leaks between your legs shows just how excited this is making you, even though they’re not gonna play into giving you that much release tonight.
After a few minutes of shifting around positions, Ghost ends up off the bed, standing over you as you lay on your back, head resting off the edge of the bed. Soap is now the one between your legs, tip pressed up against your entrance. Your leash is being firmly held by Ghost as his tip is a few inches away from your lips, waiting for the slightest mumble of directions to begin. You let out a soft moan as Soaps tip slips into you, the noise making your mouth open up just enough for Ghost to slide his dick past your lips. You whine, the feeling of the collar pressing against your throat makes you see stars. After a few minutes, Johnny pushes his full length inside of you, causing you to let out a muffled whimper around Ghosts cock. The feeling of it makes him buck his hips forward, making you gag on his length. Your breathing is ridged as you grip at the sheet of the bed once more, your cock twitching as Soap hits against that spot inside you over and over again.
Both men become weary and focused on you when you begin to twitch, whining and whimpering more frequently as Johnny picks up his pace on purpose, smirking at Ghost. When you finally reach the edge, that oh so close feeling turns to disappointment as Johnny pulls out of you, listening to you whine and attempt to close your legs off to him. The smug Scottish man lets out a deep laugh, forcing your legs back open with a harsh slap to your thigh. He almost feels bad when your tail goes limp and your hands start to twitch, but the sight of you like this makes you want to do it more. Ghost continues on with fucking your throat, grunting as tightens his already firm grip on the leash he’s holding. He gives one final tug of the lead, releasing down your throat, holding his hips in place. When he pulls out of your mouth, you’re coughing and light headed, whining to both of them to just please let you cum.
Simon stares at you, making the decision in his head, looking over at Soap. Johnny smirks, looking back down at your pleading face. You watch his hands slowly move to touch you, listening to the soft noises you make at him as your tail slowly begins to thump against the mattress. The Scottish mans hand slowly wraps around your cock, beginning with slow yet long strokes. You feel like you’re going dumb, whining more eagerly with every movement.
“Fine, pup, we’ll let ya cum,” he begins, watching your eyes fill with happiness and relief. “But,” he cuts back in, his movements slowly speeding up. “Why don’t ya give us yer best bark, you’s can do that for us, eh puppy?”, he teases, watching you contemplate his proposal. Ghost runs his hand through your hair, making sure to still have ahold on that leash. At first, your whines slowly start up again, but then you think for a bit. Then you let one out, a simple, pathetic “woof”. Then you do it a few more times, panting and whining when Soap coos at you, his hand moving up and down your length faster. By then, that’s all that can come from your mouth, before you arch up sharply, releasing onto your stomach and the sergeants hand.
“Good boy, lad.”
★ ~
Yayayayaya this is done
#bat bite#male reader#x male reader#gay#cod x reader#call of duty#cod x male reader#mwah#simon ghost riley#ghost x male reader#soap x male reader#soap mactavish#soap x reader#ghostsoap x reader#ghost x reader#soap call of duty#soap cod#ghostsoap#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#dog hybrid#hybrid reader#hybrid male reader
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR TWENTY FOUR
in which you and eddie win the bet.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 7k+
→ a/n: oh, holy fuck. holy fucking shit. i have no words, because i know it's not really over yet (we still have an epilogue, friends! don't forget that!) but... i did it. i finished another fic. that's just... insane?
thank you to everyone who has been so very kind and supportive of this fic. i owe you all the world. i'm sure i'll either make a sappy post between now and thursday, or i'll get extra sappy in the a/n on the epilogue, but for now - please know you have all my love. <3
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
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24:00 ─────────────── ㅇ 24:00
DINGUS: hey, i facetimed them for last hour’s proof. had to work out when they wanted me to head over and pick her up.
BIRDIE: both still alive? both still well?
DINGUS: so it seemed.
ARGYLE 😎: what a relief! I knew they had it in them
JOHNNY BOY: They still have to last one more hour.
NANCE: They’ll last the hour. Have a little faith, babe.
JOHNNY BOY: Still don’t like the fact we’ve just started calling them instead of requesting the photo proof. I mean, how do we not know they’re lying? Did you talk to both of them when YOU called, Nance?
NANCE: Yes, I told you guys that.
NANCE: Besides, you guys already know that Eddie hates having his picture taken. We’re lucky we ever got picture proof to begin with.
DINGUS: also i JUST facetimed them??? physically saw them?? your lack of trust in me and nance kind of hurts jon
BIRDIE: @NANCE hey can you call ME babe next?
HOUR TWENTY FOUR – 4:00 PM
“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”
Steve.
You wait for Eddie’s arm to leave you, for him to put space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. He keeps you pressed flush to his side as if the sudden arrival of a friend doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference.
“Hey, Harrington,” he even casually greets first.
He’s making no move to get up off the floor.
Just a little bit longer. Let me sit here and live in this moment a little bit longer.
“Munson,” Steve nods to Eddie before setting his sights on you, “Doll. Nice to see you, kind of glad I’m not having to fish you out of the canals.”
You feel it — Eddie’s arm tenses behind you ever so slightly at Steve’s nickname. Clearly, it’s still a sore spot for him to work through.
“I was feeling generous,” Eddie shrugs as if he hadn’t just revealed a flash of jealousy to you. You’re not even sure if he knows that you felt it. But it was there, in the slightest tightening of his grip and the flexing of his bicep behind your shoulder.
“Generous? I think you were feeling friendly,” Steve waves his hand between the two of you, as if he thought he was pointing out the obvious.
If he thought this was close, he’d faint at the imagery of you on the kitchen counter, Eddie’s face between your legs as he begged for you to let him touch you.
Just as you had noticed Eddie’s jealousy, he notices the way you suddenly heat up, shifting in your seat ever so slightly. That pull on the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. You kind of hate how easily the two of you can finally read each other. You kind of love the way he’s looking at you as if he’s thinking the exact same thing.
“Do I get my free punch now?” you finally speak up, tone flat as you muster a glare in Steve’s direction. You’re forgoing all polite and pretend oblivion.
Every single one of you here knows what happened. The bare bones of it, at least.
Eddie looks at you curiously, “Excuse me?”
Steve only grins, holding out his arms as if welcoming you, “Take your best shot.”
You stand quickly, and Steve even flinches. He clearly had thought it was all a bit, but you were deathly serious. After the night you’d had, you wanted to punch something, anything.
“Hold on,” Eddie fumbles to follow you as you stand in front of Steve, your eyebrow cocked as you pause, “Hold on, why are you punching Harrington?”
“Oh, I don’t know. ‘She’d never go for me, why would she go for you?’” you remind him, and fully expect for hurt to flash across his face. Instead, merriment continues to tug on his lips, “That ring a bell?”
“It might,” Eddie drawls, slowing down his movement to stand more casually, no longer in a rush to break up the fight. His eyes flash with something, with some sort of affection as your hand curls into a fist threateningly and you continue to glare daggers at Steve, “‘S cute to see you defending my honor, sweetheart.”
Your knees almost physically wobble. The nickname that once struck such anger and irritation in you has become your favorite thing, something that can so easily elicit such a physical reaction. Any taunting has dissipated from his tone when he falls from his tongue now. Adoration takes its place.
Steve looks between you two for a second before his face twists up, “God, I think I liked it better when you two hated each other.”
“Never really hated each other,” Eddie corrects Steve, but his eyes never leave yours.
“Right, must have slipped my mind.”
One of the questions that had been torturing you has now been answered — Eddie would, in fact, be acting differently around your friends. It’s almost enough that you feel no need to punch Steve.
Almost.
“Where do you want it?” you tear your gaze from Eddie, looking back to Steve now expectantly, “Cheek? Nose? Chin? Jaw?”
Steve’s eyes widen. “My God, have you just been dreaming of this moment for the last hour?”
“I have.”
Eddie leans back against the wall, still watching and still smirking as he crosses his arms.
“I know Eddie’s your boyfriend now but-“
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct him quickly, but something inside of you twists at saying that.
He wasn’t your boyfriend. You two had just agreed you’d need time apart before even thinking of exploring what this new chapter will bring you two. So why does it feel so wrong? Why do you suddenly feel like a pathetic teenager, desperate to bestow some cheesy title upon her crush?
Eddie nods when you suddenly look at him, as if he can read your mind, “I’m not her boyfriend. Just… her scary dog.”
Scary dog privilege. And God, does that moment feel light years in the past now. Years ago rather than hours ago. His promise to protect you suddenly rings truer now. If you ever did find yourself in trouble, you knew he’d answer your call. You knew now why his protection only extended to you. You finally, finally understood.
“Scary dog?” Steve squints at Eddie, and his judgmental demeanor has fully returned, “What the fuck does that even mea-“
He doesn’t get to finish the sardonic sentiment. The slap of your palm interrupts him.
“Ow!” he yelps out, head snapping from the force of the hit and hands already coming up defensively.
Eddie pushes off the wall the moment Steve’s hands are up in the air, “Lay a hand on her in retaliation, Harrington, and I’m breaking your arm.”
All the joking, cocky demeanor has faded. Like he had said — scary dog privilege. It applies to more than just pricks at the bar.
“I’m not,” Steve grumbles, rubbing at the red imprint now singing his cheek, “Jesus Christ, I said a punch.”
You fight a smile, “I don’t know how to throw a punch.”
“I can teach you,” Eddie pipes up, now standing beside you, hovering in your orbit.
“Don’t-“ Steve puts out a warning finger, “-encourage her. I only said you could punch me because I knew you couldn’t throw a punch!” he continues to cradle his face, now pouting at you, “Do you feel better now?”
You only answer with a triumphant smile. Because your palm is stinging, and you know violence isn’t the answer, but yeah. You do feel a little bit better.
“I don’t,” Eddie hums. He only has to take one step forward for Steve to back up, throwing out defensive eyes as he narrows his eyes, “Think I deserve to get a slap in, too, Stevie.”
“Fuck that,” Steve spits, eyes wide with genuine fear that makes you want to giggle, “You do know how to throw a punch. If I’m letting you get a free one in, I deserve twenty four hours notice.”
“Then consider this your notice.”
Is this what I had always been missing out on?
You always knew Eddie was playful with everyone, had witnessed how he joked with friends, but you’d never been included. The thought that this was the new normal makes your heart nearly burst. To be on Eddie’s side finally, to be in his good graces properly, makes you feel as if you belong more than any private movie night with Steve or impromptu dinner date with Robin. More than any night out with Nancy. More than any smoke session with Argyle, and more than any literature debate with Jonathan.
It’s as if Eddie was the missing link. You never felt you belonged, because you’d always ached for your rightful spot at his side, not just amongst the group.
The three of you stand in a makeshift circle and every single one of you smiles. Even Steve, through his slipping pout and swollen cheek, is grinning.
Suddenly, it’s not quite as heavy as it once felt.
Everything has changed. Leaving now is not leaving forever.
“I’d pay to see that,” you comment, taking a daring step to bump shoulders with Eddie. His eyes meet yours, his dimples come to life, and suddenly — you’re home, “Think I can get a front row seat to you beating Steve’s ass?”
Steve starts to protest but Eddie only nods eagerly, “I think that can be arranged.”
“I am once again reminding you two that I liked your screaming matches more than whatever this,” his hand flails, motioning to the way you two are standing closer to one another than you are him, “whole teaming-up-against-me bit is.”
“We’re not dating,” you’re reiterating as Eddie laughs out, “Stop being a crybaby.”
You look at one another again. Another foot in the door of your newfound home, another look into your new place to rest your head. It’s as if you’re just now realizing you’ve spent the entire year missing Eddie, even as he was right there in front of you.
“Well, God save us all when you two are finally dating,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head.
“If-“ Eddie starts to correct, but you stop him.
It’s not an if when it comes to you two dating, you decide. It’s a when.
“I’ll send a gift basket when the day comes,” you snark. The look that Eddie sends you could heal every wound ever left behind, right then and there.
You’re home. When Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders and Steve rolls his eyes at you two (affectionately, even if he’d deny it), you know you’re home.
—
But then, you actually do have to go home.
You try to put it off. The three of you occupy Eddie’s living room for a while, Steve complaining about the way Robin woke him up endlessly throughout the night and how he never did finish that assignment due in his English Literature class. It reminds you that life will continue on; you have to go back to work and school, deal with daily annoyances that should seem bigger than all that’s happened with Eddie tonight, but they don’t. They all seem minuscule now, really.
“Do we still have to send photo proof?” Eddie asks once Steve’s tirade has waned. You’re sat between the two boys, Steve’s body turned almost completely to face the two of you while you and Eddie slowly sink back into the cushions.
You’re sure if Steve knew the activities that had taken place on this couch, he would not be sitting so comfortably. If at all.
Steve sighs at the mention of the bet, “You probably should. Jonathan’s been antsy about it the entire time. Me and Nance tried to cover for you guys, lying about calling and stuff but-“
“Why would you lie?” you inquire, uncurling a bit from your overly comfortable position to stop from falling asleep and actually participate in the conversation.
“Because, unlike the other idiots,” Steve gives a pointed look at you and then Eddie, “We had a hunch about what was going on here. And it’s about time, by the way.”
You think over his words for a second before you look at Eddie with sudden embarrassment, “Have you- Oh my God, have you been telling Nancy what we’ve been doing?”
“What?” Eddie sits up straighter, looking just as panicked, “No. No, absolutely not, I-“
“What have you guys been doing?”
Both of you ignore Steve as Eddie continues on.
“-just spoke to her on the phone once or twice. But I didn’t give her any details. Have you been telling Steve what we did?”
Steve, still being ignored, repeats himself, “What have you guys been doing?”
“Absolutely not,” you scrunch your nose at the thought of being that honest with Steve. You loved him, truly, but not enough to tell him about those kinds of things, “I’d rather sleep in the canals than tell him.”
“What have you guys been doing?”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and he mockingly stabs himself, “Ouch, sweetheart.”
“Not like that,” you backtrack, but more casually as the worry of Steve and Nancy knowing the truth, “I just meant-“
Eddie interrupts with a hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “I know what you meant. I’m just fucking with you. I feel the same way with Nance.”
“Guys?” Steve grows further impatient, “I- What the fuck did you guys do? Oh my God, is it even safe to sit on this fucking couch right now?”
“You don’t wanna know,” you say.
“No, it isn’t,” Eddie says.
It earns him a slap on his stomach as he leans over in laughter at the way Steve launches out of his seat.
“You guys- No. No fucking way,” Steve brushes at the back of his jeans, as if they’re contaminated, “Nope. No way. You’re just fucking with me, Munson.”
“Am I?”
Another slap lands on Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs harder.
“Steve,” you turn to your friend, trying to smile sweetly, “Sit back down.”
“No.”
“You just said you don’t believe-“
“We should get going,” Steve insists through his blush, “You two should take your final picture and we should get going.”
Eddie finally stops chuckling, leaning back up and against the armrest, his ankle cross in front of your shins as he stretches his legs out and sighs, “God, you should see your face right now, Harrington.”
Steve’s scowl deepens, “It’s not funny. Take the fucking photo so we can go.”
You make no move to dig out your phone, because you know. You know once you take this photo, you’ll be leaving, and this will all be over. Once you step foot back into that hallway, time apart begins. Learning how to navigate this new unknown with Eddie begins. It terrifies you, it saddens you, it exhausts you. You hadn’t been prepared for this part of the night.
Even before the confessions, you hadn’t given much thought to the ending of the twenty four hours. You’d assumed it would end in bloodshed and a larger than life fight, probably before the clock even ran out. You’d never assumed it could end in laughing, inside jokes between you and Eddie, in something not only bitter but also sweet.
“Phone, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers as he leans forward and holds out his hand with the palm up, “Before we traumatize the poor guy any further.”
“I will wait in the car, I swear to God-“ Steve starts to protest as you finally dig your phone out of your pocket.
You’re looking down, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze in fear of him picking up on your faint sadness, as you mumble, “Get your panties out of their twist, Steve. Jesus.”
Eddie snorts at that, right as you pass your phone over.
Steve doesn’t comment when you willingly tell Eddie the code to unlock your phone, or the way you let him hold it rather than you. He doesn’t comment on the arm that Eddie seems to constantly keep around you now.
He’s doing it while he can. Cherishing being able to hold you at any capacity before you leave and the distance begins. The time apart you two agreed upon won’t be for forever, but it still kills a buried part of him that had just begun to sprout roots again. A thing made of hope that he planned to tend to this time around.
“So, how do we wanna do this?” he asks in a strained tone, as if asking that question and throttling you two closer to the finish line physically pains him.
You hope it pains him, selfishly, because it pains you. “No idea.”
“We’ve gotta make it a good one.”
“We do.”
Eddie suddenly lights up with an idea as his thumb sweeps across your screen, opening your photos’ app and scrolling up to the first picture you two had taken at the beginning of this night.
“Up for a trip down nostalgia road?” he teases, wiggling his brows as he holds the phone up for you to get a clearer view of the picture.
Eddie, flipping off the camera and scowling. You, hardly smiling with a pathetic thumbs up.
“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding slowly.
It’s unspoken, what happens next. The camera app is opened and Eddie returns your phone to your grasp. The two of you resituate to mimic the photo as closely as possible while Steve fiddles with some of the items on Eddie’s entertainment center.
You stretch out your arm, put your thumb up into view, blink away any tears burning the back of your eyes. Eddie’s hand has taken position as well.
You snap the photo before you can think too hard on it.
“Think that’ll be the winner?” Eddie curiously asks as you immediately bring the phone close to your face, swiping to view the snapshot just taken. And when you do, with the refreshed memory of that first photo, your heart physically aches.
Almost an identical image. At a quick glance, it’s the same Eddie and the same you from the first one. But the similarities fade the moment you look closer. Eddie isn’t scowling, not genuinely – those damn dimples are even making an appearance as his eyes were squinted up in a valiant effort to fight off the smile he wears now. And your smile, your smile, is no longer half-assed. It’s something real, something full, something even a bit sad. The same face you wear when saying goodbye to an old friend and trying to hold back any tears until their train has long since left the station. You can almost physically see your vines in this photo wrapping around the two of you, clinging so desperately to avoid any separation. Time apart. You’re regretting suggesting that now.
It’s a cute photo. A photo of two friends, if you could call yourself and Eddie that now.
“All done?” Steve interrupts the moment, both of you and Eddie only staring at the photo. You take a peak at him out of your peripherals, and you can see it written plainly on his face – he’s feeling all the same emotions as you. Something sad, something nostalgic, something reluctant. “Not to rush the process but… I may or may not have a hot date tonight to get ready for.”
Eddie tears his gaze from the photo, “A hot date?”
“A hot date,” Steve nods, a boyish grin gracing his lips, “And I’m picking her up in… t-minus…” he pauses, checking his watch, “Three hours.”
“Smart move. Charm her before I rearrange your face and all.”
Steve throws his head back in a groan, “You two won’t be letting that go any time soon, will you?”
“Nope,” you chime in as you swipe to open up the groupchat, not offering Steve a single glance until you’ve sent off the final addition of photo proof to the rest of your friends. You consider adding some sort of sarcastic comment, some well earned bragging and a boisterous told you so, but you don’t.
It doesn’t feel like you’ve won. Leaving this apartment, this battleground, with all the new bruises and healed wounds you’ve acquired over the span of the twenty four hours doesn’t taste like victory. Really, it tastes like… nothing.
There’s no victory, no solid ending for you to cling to. It’s simply ending and there’s still thousands of words you have to say to Eddie. You need more time, another twenty four hours, to fill with every single thing you never told him. More casual confessions of honesty, more hours wasted in his bed, more insignificant bickering to partake in. It’s all on your tongue and desperate for attention, and yet, you know you can’t succumb to it.
You have to go. It’s the last thing you want to do, but you have to.
Steve checks his phone when it buzzes with the notification of your message you sent and opens his mouth, no doubt about to comment on your lack of words with the message, but you’re already standing. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. You need to get it over with, get out of this apartment before you decide you’d rather sink right into these couch cushions and decay just to ensure you never have to really leave.
Eddie’s quick to follow.
“Let’s go,” you say to Steve, grabbing up your bag, not looking at Eddie at the risk of losing all composure.
Neither boy fights you, following you right up to the front door. Steve leads, opening it back up as reality slams you in the chest. As if there’s an invisible barrier here, and you know that in crossing it, you’ll be leaving a piece of yourself behind in apartment 2C.
Leaving now is not leaving forever.
But it sure does feel like it.
Steve awkwardly looks over your shoulder at Eddie, some silent communication you only see his half of as he shrugs and does a timid wave, turning to leave.
One foot hangs midair, your toes beginning to push through that barrier, when Eddie grabs you.
“Hey,” he breathes as he wraps his fingers around your bicep, forcing you to turn to face him. You let him, your body moving to his accord but your eyes still not meeting his, “You good?”
You take a deep breath in through your nose, “Me? Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. I’m… I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive?”
“Will you look at me, then?”
Reluctantly, so very reluctantly, your eyes meet his. Big, brown doe eyes. This close to them, you can see the way they shine to match yours. You both probably look insane to Steve right now, but you don’t care. Between the sleep deprivation and all the emotions you’ve had to experience over the last day, the tears are well earned.
You almost reach out and kiss him. You almost press up onto your toes and put your lips on his, almost pour every emotion you’re feeling in the moment into a far from innocent peck.
But you don’t.
“We did it,” you croak blandly, “We won the bet.”
As if the Universe is screaming in agreement, you can hear a chime in the distance signifying the hour. Probably the church you recall passing in the middle of the night when the two of you had ventured off to the parking garage. It almost feels as if it’s mocking you.
“We did it,” he echoes as his grip on your bicep loosens. You expect him to let it fall back to his side, nearly begging out loud for him to retract his touch from you so you don’t do something stupid like stay.
You swallow down thick emotions, just like molasses, “I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?”
Time. You two needed time apart.
“Yeah,” he sighs, as he does the one thing you had somehow hoped he wouldn’t yet yearned for ardently – the hand that had wrapped around your arm now cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin so softly, you nearly melt in his doorway, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”
It doesn’t taste like victory, yet it doesn’t taste quite like loss. It’s bittersweet.
You still don’t kiss him. And he doesn’t kiss you, even as his touch against your cheek lingers so heavily before he pulls away.
You cross the barrier and find you were right. You feel that piece of you tear off and flutter to the ground, and you begin to wonder when you’ll have the chance to come back and reclaim not just it, but Eddie.
—
Steve didn’t speak much on the drive back to your dorm, and you’re sort of grateful.
If you were a good friend, you’d ask more about his date. You’d get him giddy as he spills the details about this girl and his plans for the night, chastise and tease him all in good fun. You’d be smiling and making plans for coffee tomorrow morning so he could tell you all about how the date went.
But you’re not a good friend.
You sit in your silence the entire drive, and you pick at your nails, and you selfishly stay focused on Eddie. On all of your own qualms and all your own issues, worrying about what comes next and already feeling your chest tighten the moment you start to think about when see you around will come.
The two of you never discussed that, did you? There was no discussion of just how much time was needed apart.
Steve shifts the car into park in the west lot, right outside your building, “Alright, stop making your cuticles bleed for two seconds and tell me what’s wrong.”
Your hands pause exactly as he requests, caught red-handed. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Something’s obviously wrong. I told you to go get him – and yet, he’s still not your boyfriend.”
“It’s complicated,” your voice finally breaks. There’s no tears this time, just confusion and desperation clawing at your throat.
Because, was it complicated? Was it really?
The last year was what had been complicated. All the pretending and the fights and the tension. All the false beliefs and all the lies overlapping with one another. That was complicated. But this? The feelings you harbored and finally acknowledged for the boy you just left behind?
That wasn’t really complicated.
And Steve knows this, you can hear it in his sigh, “I think that’s the issue.”
“What?” you turn your head towards him, scrunch your brows, even your breathing and try to shoo away the image of Eddie’s wet eyes.
You wish you would have kissed him.
“Look, i just think you two keep making things complicated when they should be simple-”
You didn’t want to hear it. Childish as it might be, you do not want to have to hear this speech. Because you know Steve’s right.
“I’ll see you later, Steve.”
“Wait-”
You don’t wait. You slam the door in his face once you’ve got your footing outside of his car, truly earning your title of bad friend.
Awful. You weren’t just a bad friend, you were an awful friend.
And yet you can’t think on it, leaving it be until you had the time to properly dwell on how you’d apologize later. All you care about now is getting inside your dorm, moping and being miserable on your own. Your strides are longer and faster than they were even when you’d backtracked to Eddie’s apartment, determined to get behind closed doors and to properly mourn all that had been gained and all that had been lost in the last twenty four hours.
Twenty four hours ago, you were reluctant to even step foot in Eddie’s apartment. And now, it’s the only place you really want to be.
Luck refuses to be on your side as you slam into your dorm room, sweaty and tired and just fucking emotional, only to find your roommate there. There will be no dramatic crying, no cinematic scene with your back pressed to the door as you fight back sobs, it seems.
“You look rough,” is all she notes, sparing you a second glance before she returns to whatever she was tasking on at her desk. Her makeup, you think.
Good. Maybe she’ll be heading out, leaving you to suffer alone like you wanted.
“Yeah,” is all you can answer her as the door clicks shut behind you.
Rough’s a good way to put it.
“Think you’ll be here tonight?” she asks, still distracted, “Troy and I are hanging out today – he spent the night here last night, by the way – and if you’re gone again, I was thinking about inviting him back over. Only if you’re cool with it, or already have plans, though. Our RA has this final and I didn’t even have to sneak him in last night-”
She continues on her rambles, never looking your way as you drop your bag onto your bed, and quickly lift yourself to lay right next to it.
Normal. You were having to go back to fucking normal. Your worries were no longer revolving around Eddie or making it through the next hour, no longer preoccupied with keeping your friends up to date in order to ensure a payout of five hundred dollars – now, you just had to worry about boys named Troy and possible room checks by your RA. Finals to be taken, essays to be finished, shifts to be covered at the diner so you’d have enough cash to go out with your friends next weekend.
You should be relieved. But it all just feels impossibly heavy.
Your roommate catches on quickly, and when you only reply to let her know you’ll be here tonight, she stops talking. She focuses on finishing her makeup and gathering her things, hardly even offering you a goodbye as you shift to curl up more comfortably in the center of your mattress.
You should also know better than what you decide to do next. You can’t help it, though, as you tug your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. You don’t listen to the voice inside your head that screams stop as you click on your photos’ app. Ignore the animal inside that whines as you scroll, and you click on the very first photo of you and Eddie.
It’s painful, but you have nothing better to do in your solitude. You don’t linger on the first photo too long, still being fresh in your mind, before quickly swiping along.
The set of matching photos you and Eddie took of one another, black and white socks covering touching toes visible in each one. You nearly laugh at the Darth Vader figurine both of you took turns holding. You nearly cry when you realize you were, in fact, smiling in your photo. A small one, a forced one, but there nonetheless.
The selfie from the bar, your amaretto sour and Eddie’s whiskey & coke lifted towards the camera. The way both of you had tried to look annoyed, over exaggerated and furrowed brows paired with pouting lips. Your thumb swipes subconsciously over the photo for a second too long, and you’re startled when you realized it was a live photo. The moment after the photo was taken, Eddie’s eyes had moved to look at you. And in that live photo, you watched every ounce of annoyance evaporate. Leaving behind something you recognized now. Leaving behind eyes sparkling with a brief glimpse of adoration.
There’s something else you better recognize now in the next photo. The picture you’d taken when Eddie had locked himself into his room, only opening up long enough to insist you took the photo, the one that guaranteed you your money. You had been right – there was a flood of regret on his face. You hadn’t imagined it. But you had also been wrong; he was never looking at your own rotted vines and mourning them; he was looking at his own, tethered and shredded, regretting that he had ever taken an axe to them. You don’t press down to see this live photo. You don’t want to witness that door slamming in your face again.
The two photos taken in his bed. The one in which both your faces are scrunched from the flash, in which you can see the physical wall between you two. And the one in the dark, where you both wear tired smiles, unaware of the night to come.
The photo on the bike, a helmet mostly covering your blushing cheeks, but not Eddie’s.
The photo from the parking garage, meant just for you two.
The photos from Betty’s. You don’t linger on the one of you; you do linger on the one of him.
Each swipe only makes your heart ache more viciously, painful and sharp reminders of the night you had had. You don’t have to press down on another single photo to witness the live outplay of it – each memory is running through your mind in real time as you retrace your steps of the night. Twenty four hours, twenty four steps. With each photo, you watch yourself grow more relaxed, watch smiles come easier without your awareness and finally pinpoint all the care Eddie had been looking at you with the entire time.
You notice the lack of photos from the last few hours. You nearly scorn yourself for it, but there had been no time. There was no time for memories frozen in time amongst all that hard honesty and those sacrilegious revelations.
Except there was one more moment in time frozen for you. You’re quick to exit the photo app finally, leaving behind that picture of Eddie with full cheeks only to open up your text messages.
Your text thread with him. Filled to the brim with bad pastry jokes and underlying need. You remember that urgent want to comfort him, to remind him he was enough. To erase all the hurt and all the old scars caused by a life from before your time with him you still hadn’t become fully privy to.
You’re still rereading the last message, bet you wouldn’t say that to my face, when suddenly a new message appears.
EDDIE: Make it home okay?
Space and time. They are the last things you want, that you need from him right now.
YOU: yep. my roommate just left.
EDDIE: Is your dorm bed as comfortable as you remember?
YOU: like sleeping on a cloud.
You wish you were still in his bed. You wish you were back at the beginning, with him rather than all alone.
EDDIE: Oh shit, you’re trying to sleep? Sorry
EDDIE: I’ll stop bothering you and leave you to it. Sweet dreams.
No, you nearly scream at your phone screen, come back and bother me. Bother me for the rest of my days for all I care.
You’d never sleep another wink if it meant having him. You remember what you told him about starting over, starting fresh. And maybe taking a much needed nap would offer that. Maybe sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time would be the smart choice, letting you awake with a clearer mind and better intentions.
But you don’t want that. The animal inside still clings to all that has happened.
Something about that makes you brave.
YOU: i never said that, and you’re not bothering me.
EDDIE: Didn’t you say you wanted a nap earlier?
YOU: that was earlier. i’m wide awake now.
An internal battle continues to take place. Your mind whispers liar, knowing damn well that if you put down the phone and turned your cheek to bury into your pillow, you’d be out like a light within seconds.
EDDIE: Ah. I see.
You fiddle with your thumbs for a second, stomach churning as you try to come up with a response to keep the conversation going. Technically, when you had said the two of you needed time apart after all that had happened, it should have meant interactions like this as well. Texting each other was not offering each other space.
But he’d started it. That was on him.
YOU: do you remember what i said about space? and starting over?
EDDIE: I do. I’m not very good with giving you space, it seems.
YOU: well, considering you’re on the other side of town, i’d say we’ve got the physical sense of space down.
There’s a pause in his replies that causes you to sit up. A falter. You curse him for not having a smartphone as well, for not having the privilege of being notified whether he was just taking his time typing or if he had put the phone down. You really hoped it was the former, practically wished upon every star that that was what was happening. You hoped he was glued to his phone as you were yours.
Maybe he still had that photo he’d taken a few hours ago, the one you swore you’d heard him take as you dozed off. Maybe he was still staring at it like you had done with all of your photos.
EDDIE: About that…
You stare at the message, the hidden meaning behind it completely lost on you.
YOU: About what?
EDDIE: I’m not home right now.
Your heart clenches.
YOU: You’re not?
EDDIE: I’m not.
YOU: Eddie, where the hell are you right now?
Your mind reels with all the possible choices. He could be at the bar, at the parking garage, at Nancy’s place. He could be anywhere.
But then he only sends a picture in response, and you know where he is.
You nearly topple into three other students from how you sprint down the hallway. You don’t even grab your key to your dorm room, skipping the elevators and nearly throwing yourself down the few flights of stairs in haste. You don’t care how your lungs cry out, you don’t care how your thighs burn, you don’t care how your shoulder aches from how roughly you slam open that front door of the building. You don’t care about the strange looks you get on your way out. You don’t care about the odd angle you twisted your ankle in on that last step.
The only thing you care about is the boy standing there, helmet off and balanced on the seat of his parked motorcycle that he leans on, arms crossed as his eyes light up at the erratic sight of you.
You don’t even check for any traffic in the parking lot as you make your way to him.
“I’m sorry,” he calls out once you’re close enough to hear him, “I know we said give it time and shit, but you left, and I just-”
He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.
When you make it to Eddie, you’re in no business to carry anymore regret with you. This time, you don’t just yearn to kiss him, to wrap your arms around him, to pour out all those emotions you were feeling across tongues.
You do it. You kiss him, uncaring for all the stares of fellow students. He nearly falls backwards into his bike from the force of you colliding against him, but he’s quick to catch himself as his hands find your waist.
“You-” you pull back, gasping a bit to start to scold him before his lips follow and interrupt you, “Fucking-” Push and pull. You retreat, and he follows, “Idiot.”
His hands squeeze around you, tugging you a stumbling step closer so that your chests are flushed against one another.
“I am,” he mumbles against your lip, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheek as he refuses to let anymore distance be put between the two of you, “I am a fucking idiot. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
His hands cradle your face and he kisses you this time, reaffirming that he felt everything you had. All those words you hadn’t said, all his own admissions he’d withheld, spill between clashing teeth and eager lips. He takes your breath away, shamelessly, greedily. And you let him. You offer all the air that’s left in your lungs up to him on a silver platter.
When the two of you finally pull apart, eyes opening wide and foreheads pressing tightly to one another, he’s grinning like a fool.
“So, I had a better idea than time apart,” he murmurs, “What if we just… start over?”
“Start over?” you question wearily.
He nods, “Yeah. Just… Just pretend this last year and all our bullshit didn’t happen. Start fresh. Let me not be a massive dick this time.”
His hands drop from your face as he takes a step back, taking you in fully. You want to shy under his gaze, but instead you can only melt. His fondness is a warmth like no other, capturing you by the crown of your head and pouring down over you in waves.
“Okay,” you finally agree, feeling your own cheeks spread and ache in a lovesick smile. Coming home, that’s what this felt like. “Okay, we can start over.”
“Great,” the homecoming warmth only spreads as he straightens up his posture. A very serious look overcomes his face, laced with determination for a brief second until he relaxes it into a friendly smile, doleful eyes meeting yours as every single flower he had ever planted in your chest blooms like a spring morning. He sticks his hand out, nearly making you snort, “Hi, I’m Eddie.”
You can’t help it. His front door is open, a warm glow within welcoming you.
You ignore his hand entirely as you impulsively reach up and interlock your fingers at the nape of his neck, tugging him into you for another kiss.
He pulls back far too soon for your liking, but his hands have also found their spot against the small of your back, “Do you greet all the new strangers you meet like this?”
You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”
He pulls you back in for a chaste peck, and it tastes like home.
“I like you,” you whisper into the limited space between the two of you, “I mean it. I like you so fucking much, Edward Munson.”
He grins, cracking your chest wide open with hope, “The feeling’s mutual.”
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#my writing#twenty four hours#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#this feels so surreal to post jesus christ#thank you guys genuinely for all the love#i will be making a sappy post before i post the epilogue on thursday#i just#wow#yeah#i did it#again#i finished a fucking fic
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༊*·˚ princely.
coriolanus snow x dark!fem!reader
word count 1.5k
cw dark themes, NONCON SOMNOPHILIA, dead dove do not eat, reader has a gross internal monologue, handjob, coriolanus is unaware of his assault, not proofread
notes hey! i don't condone anything described in this fic irl! what the reader does here is gross and is literally assault. PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS BECAUSE SHIT GETS WEIRD! got it? good. then pls enjoy ♡
wanna give a quick thanks to my mutual @shellxrls for inspiring me to write more dark content, and for encouraging me to post this. if it wasn't for her, this fic would have never seen the light of day.
Your fingernails grip so hard into the blanket you fear you may rip the soft fleece from its stitches. Staring down at the beautiful boy sleeping next to you in your bed, looking so utterly soft and peaceful. You watch his chest rise up and down slowly with each breath he takes, studying how his muscles move beneath his skin. His soft blonde curls sprawl delicately across his face. You didn’t even know it was possible to look so princely while you slept, but Coriolanus Snow was living proof.
You had previously allowed Coriolanus to stay at your apartment for a few days while his place went under renovations, courtesy of his newfound inheritance of the Pinths’ fortune. He was your best friend after all, so who were you to deny him hospitality?
But on the first night of him sleeping in your bed, you find yourself questioning every aspect of your moral compass now that you had him beside you looking so vulnerable. Your fingers twitch. The temptation is nearly killing you. He’s most likely deep within some kind of dream, so…
Before your mind comprehends what you’re doing, your hand is on his smooth, toned chest, feeling him breathe underneath your touch. You want to pull your hand away, to stop before you start, but your hand feels as if it’s stuck to his smooth skin. What’s happening? Why aren’t you stopping yourself? Oh god, Coryo looks so hot when he sleeps. Is he dreaming? Is he dreaming about you? If he’s dreaming about you, then surely that means he’s into you, so he wouldn’t mind if you were to just—
Before you could realize what you’re doing, your hand is moving further down south Coriolanus’s torso, heeding every single physical and verbal cue that could indicate he’s waking up. You bite down hard on your lip — almost a bit too hard — as your hand approaches closer and closer to the waistband of his boxers. So crisply pristine, a pearly white color, almost too perfect. Did he not have a single pair of ruined underwear? Surely he must have a pair in the hamper with his cum stains painting the front. Maybe even multiple pairs. Yeah, multiple pairs of ruined underwear caused by Coriolanus’s physiology. The thought makes your pussy throb, and you look down as you thumb the waistband of his boxers.
But you decide to not venture towards the promised land just yet. Instead, you ghost your fingertips over the print of Coriolanus’s large cock. You have to swallow hard as your mouth waters, frantically flicking your eyes back and forth from his face to your hands. You think to yourself, is it too late to turn back? Could you still save yourself from the horrifying embarrassment of getting caught touching your friend in his sleep?
A small groan escapes his throat, and at the speed of light you retract your hand and wait for further instruction. Coriolanus does not open his eyes, but you still wait a few moments before putting your hand back.
Oh, Coryo. Oh sweet, princely, beautiful Coryo — if only he could see how pretty he looks right now resting his soft curls on your pillows, then maybe he’ll understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. Just can’t help myself, you think.
You really begin to think about the circumstances. You’re a hot girl. You’re insanely hot with a sharp tongue and even sharper brain. You have ambitions, goals, and fully thought out plans for the future. You’re perfect girlfriend and wife material. Would Coriolanus really be bothered by someone like you touching him in his sleep? In fact, he would probably be grateful.
Ugh, no! What? Stop thinking like that. You’re so full of yourself you’re choking on your own ego. You’re a violator. A venomous pervert. A venomous, conniving, irresistibly hot pervert.
You sigh to yourself. Your brain just keeps thinking in circles and in circles and in circles and in circles. You can’t be doing this. Just a little won’t hurt? This is as far as you’ll go. He won’t even mind at all because you notice the way he looks at you like you’re a lamb for the slaughter. This isn’t right. You can’t be doing this. Just a little won’t hurt?
The room temperature rises. A lining of sweat appears on your hairline as you continue to lightly ghost your fingers over the print of Coriolanus’s hardening cock. He’s starting to make noises more frequently. He must be dreaming now.
You dare to whisper, see if maybe your voice will bleed into his dreams. You’re dying to know how he’ll react. Ever so softly, his name escapes your lips like a delicate puff of smoke from inhaling a cigarette.
“Coryo,”
You wait.
You wait for a moan, a sigh, a physical response.
Nothing.
You say a silent prayer to yourself before leaning in closer, attempting to manipulate his dreams once more.
“Coryo, I’m here,”
You perk up as a tiny moan escapes Coriolanus’s mouth, and even more exciting, his cock twitches beneath your fingertips.
This was your sign to keep going.
Carefully, you retract your hand and drool a generous amount of saliva onto your fingers and in the palm of your hand before slipping your hand underneath the waistband of his boxers. And as your fingers made contact with his hardening cock, you shiver.
Your entire body flares up with goosebumps and your pussy throbs and aches almost instantly. You have to take a moment to yourself before you begin stroking him, to just hold his shaft within your perverted, filthy hand. Your heart is beating so fast that you’re afraid you might pass out before you can indulge in the fun.
Your hand trembles as you begin to stroke him, keeping a light yet generous grip as you pump his cock up and down. He’s beginning to moan more loud than before, and more frequently. You think to yourself about how you could cum right then and there just from feeling his dick and listening to him moan.
It’s dark in your bedroom, but your eyes adjusted a while ago, giving you a fair view of Coriolanus’s cock in your hand. You swipe your thumb across his slit, and for a moment you stop as a sharp gasp emits from the sleeping boy. But when he shows no sign of waking up, you continue.
“So big…” you whisper to yourself, voice barely audible. You feel his cock begin to leak with pre-cum and you slick up his shaft with his own bodily juices, making your hand pump his cock more smoothly as you pick up the pace.
You wonder to yourself if you could even get away with straddling his hips to sit down on his dick, slowly impaling yourself as your tight pussy envelops him in his sleep. How would he react? You can picture it now: you, stripped of your panties and nightgown, tits bouncing up and down as you ride his cock. Eventually, he’ll stir awake to the image of your hot body on top of him, moaning and whimpering sweetly. And he won’t fight back, oh no. Because you’ve seen the way he looks at you — you don’t think he knows how you study the way he licks his lips as he eyes you up and down. Your pussy is on his mind 24/7. He’s obsessed with you. You’re surprised he hasn’t tried to touch you in your sleep. You’d welcome the sentiment, though, as your eyes would slowly flutter open to the sight of Coriolanus pounding his cock into you. You wouldn’t tell him to stop.
Would he tell you to stop?
You’d like to think so. But you can’t afford to think of alternate versions of this night as your hand is now thoroughly pumping his cock in a proper handjob. Coriolanus mewls and twitches in his sleep, and your mind can’t begin to comprehend how hot he looks completely at your mercy.
“Pretty, so pretty,” you whisper. “Don’t even know I’m fisting your fucking cock, yeah? Wish this was my pussy? Wish I was fucking you in your sleep instead of giving you this lousy handjob?”
You don’t know what comes over you as you lean down to kiss his sleeping lips, and before you know it, he’s lazily grunting as he spills his cum all over your hand.
And you’re so turned on you feel more as if you have to pee more than anything. Your pussy pulsates as you feel his cock throb underneath your hand, and you have to practically force yourself to pull your hand away and lay back down.
Mere seconds after his orgasm, you feel and hear Coriolanus stir and wake up. He mumbles a curse word under his breath as he assesses his sticky situation.
You just lay there, with your hand still covered in his cum, as a deep, dark dread fills your chest. Someone pours liquid lead into your heart as reality settles back in for you.
What have I done?
darby-rowe, 2024. do not plagiarize my content, nor distribute my content onto any other website like AO3, etc. my writing is exclusive to tumblr only.
#♡; dally writes!#dead dove do not eat#cw noncon#cw somnophilia#cw noncon somno#fem!reader#fem reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow smut#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#thg tbosas#tbosas#x reader#x reader fanfiction#x reader smut
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