#fabric patches will be up later today!
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Winter transitions into Spring 🌷 The text reads:
He wakes, melting snow reveals a robin blushed chest, in his arms he bears a bouquet of sleepy tulips, healing from Winter’s last icy kiss. He forgives his thawed chamber, now nothing more than a pool at the edge of his memory, for its guiding hibernation taught him the true warmth of the sun. (MMXXIII) Hail Spring; his radiance in full bloom.
I've been working on summer, but she isn't ready yet. Hopefully she will be by the end of August! In the meantime though, spring is available as a print in my shop.
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Just a Graze | Joel x Reader oneshot
One-shot Joel/Reader. Previously posted in two parts but thought I'd make a masterpost for this one.
Summary: Joel comes back injured, and while you patch him up the tension that's been building for several months threatens to break.
Tags/warnings: dirty talk, explicit content, language, injury detail (not explicit), MDNI, sexual tension, PIV, oral (F receiving), FILTH
Word Count: 4.3k
Joel’s bleeding when he gets back. The screen door clatters shut behind him, wire shuddering against the wood, and you look up from the table. His face is set, a solid frown painted across his features – nothing unusual – but there’s a downward turn to his mouth that you recognise as a pained expression. He steps in and leans against the counter, one hand on the warped wood, the other pressed against his shoulder. Blood seeps through his fingers, clotting around his knuckles, staining his jacket red.
“I’m okay,” he says as you spring up from your place at the dusty kitchen table, “it’s just a graze.”
“Bullet?” You ask, ignoring his attempts to wave off your concern.
“Barbed wire,” he says, letting you lead him further into the cabin, toward the misshapen couch, “stupid mistake, I didn’t see it.”
The shotgun clatters onto the floor at his feet as he collapses onto the couch with a groan. He doesn’t protest as you pull his fist away from the wound, your hand warm against his wind-chilled fingers. The cut isn’t deep, but the wire has torn through his jacket and shirt down to the flesh of his shoulder, leaving a jagged cut that’s oozing blood.
“You must be getting old,” you say, standing to search through your pack for the first aid kit, “your eyes are going as well as your ears.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with my eyes. Or my ears.”
“Sorry?”
“I said, there-” he notices your grin, the glint of mischief in your eye. He sighs heavily. “You’re a damn pain in my ass.”
You huff out a laugh and pull a kitchen chair across to sit opposite him. You open the first aid kit – which is really no more than a small washbag stuffed with a bottle of Lysol and a handful of bandages – on your lap, pull out the disinfectant and start unscrewing the cap.
“Can you take your jacket off?” You ask, and he nods, starts unzipping it and pulling it off of his uninjured arm. He winces a little as he peels it past his bad shoulder, shakes it down his arm and lays it over his lap, frowning at the gash in the fabric.
“I can patch that up when we get back to Jackson.” You say.
“Ain’t going back ‘til we’ve something to bring back.” He replies, and now it’s your turn to sigh.
“We’ve got two deer and a whole family of rabbits, Joel. There’s nothing else out here for us to get.”
“We both saw that clinic complex, and I ain’t arguing with you about this again. Winter’s well on its way, and we need as much medicine as we can get to make it through. I almost got in today – would have, if I hadn’t got caught on that damned barbed wire. We’ll both go back tomorrow.”
He fixes you with a hard stare, one that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, though whether it’s through fear or something else, you’re not sure. You’ve been partnering up for a couple of months now, going out on hunts and supply runs, growing slowly closer over long hikes and cold nights camping out under the stars.
At first, he intimidated you. He was cold, harsh; a solid bulk of a man who never smiled and rarely spoke, except to tell you to keep your voice down or stop walking so loudly. But then, gradually, he’d started loosening up around you. A few weeks ago he’d cracked a smile at a joke you’d made – something stupid about a bird in a tree, the kind of joke your dad used to make when you were a kid – and then that smile had grown into a deep chuckle a couple of days later, and then a conversation, whispered and illusive, under a starry sky last week.
This latest trip outside Jackson had been the most enjoyable yet, conversation flowing easily between you, and you were starting to suspect that the strange swooping feeling in your stomach that arose each time he looked at you, or bumped against you as you walked had a lot less to do with how intimidating he could be, and a lot more to do with him.
Now, locking eyes with him over the opened bottle of Lysol, his eyes dark and with an argument boiling up between you, that feeling blossoms into something hot and delicious, stirring a fire in your belly that makes you bold.
“From where I’m sat,” you say, tipping the bottle of Lysol so that the disinfection pours out onto a clean swab, “you don’t seem to have much choice about what we’re doing next. You’re hurt, and I need to patch you up, so stop arguing and take your shirt off.”
He opens his mouth to argue but shuts it again, eyes flicking up to your face. A hint of red creeps up his neck, settling high on his cheeks, tinging them scarlet in the low light of the cabin. You keep glaring at him. He lets out a long breath through his nose and moves to unbutton his shirt. The shirt is old, vintage, even – probably older than you – with mismatched buttons and a crumpled, frayed look. It comes apart easily, Joel’s fingers working down the buttons nimbly until he reaches the bottom. He pauses there, looks up at your face. You look away, because heat is creeping up your own neck now, hot and unbridled, as he pushes the shirt off of his shoulders and lets it fall open onto the couch behind him.
After his dark eyes, the most notable thing about Joel is his stature. He’s tall, and broad enough to fill any room he’s in. You’ve seen him lift grown men like they weigh nothing, watched him pick up a dead deer and throw it over one shoulder without so much as a stumble. Last month you went out on horseback to scope a potential hunting ground, and, sitting behind him in the saddle, you couldn’t see anything past the triangular bulk of his shoulders, your hands clasped easily around his waist. So, yeah, you know he’s strong, could tell anyone that the man is built. But when you look at him in the half-light with his shirt off, uncovered by layers of leather or plaid, the sight still sends blood rushing to your face.
His shoulders are broad, curving into thick biceps that tense as he raises a hand to scratch, self-consciously, at the back of his neck. There are small scars littering his chest, running down in narrow white slices to his belly, which is softer than the rest of him, sloping and scattered with coarse hair that continues below the buckle of his belt. You want to press your face into it, kiss the contours of his bellybutton and the plains of his chest, up to the juncture of his throat, which bobs as he swallows, eyes shifting to catch yours.
“You gonna patch me up or just stare?” He asks, and there’s something teasing in his voice, something that causes heat and slick to pool in between your thighs.
“I- you’ve got a lot of scars.” You say, stupidly, tipping more Lysol onto the cloth you’re holding.
“Had a lot of run-ins with barbed wire.” He replies, the words turning to a hiss when you press the wet cloth to the cut on his shoulder.
“Should be more careful.”
“Now where would the fun be in that, darlin’?”
Oh, that’s new. You’ve heard him call Ellie pet names before, laughed when she rolls her eyes and shirks away from his affections, all fifteen years old and too cool to be coddled. But he’s never called you anything but your name – never so much as shortened it to a nickname like almost everyone else does. You flick your gaze from his wound to his face. His eyes are dark, expression unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze makes you look away, cheeks reddening. You pull the cloth away from his arm and start wrapping a clean bandage around his shoulder.
“Sorry,” he says, after a pause. “I forget, sometimes. Recently.”
“Forget what?”
“That you’re young enough to be my-” He cuts himself off here, “that you’re a hell of a lot younger’n I am.”
This makes you laugh out loud, a huff of breath exhaled. You’re still opposite each other, him on the sofa, knees spread wide, you in the kitchen chair. If you inched forward only slightly your own legs would be between his.
“Old days I’d have been old enough to drink and drive, and more than old enough to flirt, Joel.”
“That what you want? You want me to flirt with you?” His voice is low, almost a whisper.
You shrug and hold his gaze. “I think it’s what you want too. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you.”
You have. He thinks he’s being discrete, but you’ve seen how his eyes linger on your legs, how he can’t help but drop his gaze to your chest when you wear something low cut. A few weeks ago you’d seen him adjust himself in his jeans when you stripped down to your underwear to bathe in a stream you’d come across after two days out searching for supplies.
“And how’s that?” He asks. You have to hold yourself back from leaning forward and kissing the worried crease of his mouth.
“Like you’re a man dying of thirst and I’m an oasis.”
He scoffs at that. “Shoulda been a writer, sweetheart.”
“And how does this story end?”
“Ends with you walking away from me like you should’ve months ago. This,” he flicks a finger at himself and then you, “ain’t happening.”
“Why not? You want it, I want it. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“Problem is,” he slides his arms off the sofa, reaching back to pull his shirt back up over his shoulders, “you think you know what you want, but you don’t.” He starts buttoning the shirt, fixing you with a stern look. “Trust me.”
He tries to stand but you put your hands on his knees, holding him in place.
“No way,” You say, your heart thumping in your chest, “you don’t get to decide what I do or don’t want.”
“What do you want? You want me to fuck you? Want me to spread your pretty little legs out across this couch and make you come on my tongue?”
Yes. God, yes.
“What if I do? What if that’s exactly what I want you to do?” You slide your hands further up his legs, holding him down on the couch. If he wanted to, he could push you off easily, but he doesn’t. When your fingertips reach the tops of his thighs he slides his hands over your wrists and pins them where they are, stopping you moving any higher.
“Find someone your own age, sweetheart. Someone whose knees don’t creak when the stand up. Someone who can make you happy.” And then he’s standing up, moving your hands off of him with ease, stepping around you in the kitchen chair to stride to the other side of the room, the tension collapsing in on itself as he tells you to get some sleep, that there’s more work to do tomorrow.
*****
The next morning brings rain. It hammers against the walls of the cabin and drips in through the leaky roof. Joel stands at the window, one hand on his hip, silently looking out at the downpour.
“Tell me you’re not considering going out in this?” You say, moving up behind him to peer out at the lashing rain.
“Might ease up later.” He says, turning to face you. “There’s enough to do in here to keep us occupied, anyway.”
“Guns?” You ask.
“Guns.” He agrees.
Joel’s fanatical about keeping the guns clean and working. It makes sense, you suppose. You don’t know much about his past, about how he and Ellie ended up in Jackson, but what you’ve heard, the snippets Ellie’s confided in you over quiet conversations, makes for grim listening. To Joel, those guns mean the difference between life and death.
And so you both sit at the kitchen table, meticulously cleaning Joel’s shotgun and your pistol, passing cloths and gun oil between you. You make casual conversation as you go, neither of you touching on the events of the previous evening. After he dismissed you last night you’d gone straight to bed, tucked yourself into the dusty single bed in the bedroom while Joel took the couch. Your dreams had been hazy and pleasant, and you’d woken up flushed.
You’re sliding the magazine back into your pistol when Joel jumps and swears, pulling his hand back from where he’s trapped his finger in the loading mechanism of the shotgun. A tiny bead of blood wells up and spills over his fingertip and he sighs heavily. You reach out and take his hand in yours to examine the cut. It's tiny - you've seen paper-cuts do more damage - but Joel's frowning like he's in pain.
“You’ve gotta stop being so clumsy.” You say.
“I’m not clumsy.” He replies, letting you turn his hand in yours, watching you watch his thick fingers, take in the breadth of his knuckles.
“No?”
“No. It’s-”
You're not sure what makes you do it - maybe it's frustration still boiling over from yesterday, maybe it's the way Joel looks at you as you clasp his large hand in your own smaller one - but before he can finish speaking you pull his arm across the table and wrap your lips around his finger. You snake your tongue over the pad of the digit and the noise he makes then - a breathy, broken groan - sends fire surging through you, heat coiling between your thighs.
“Distraction.” He finishes.
When you pull your mouth away and place a wet kiss to the palm of his hand, he slides his fingers across your jaw and up into the mess of your hair. His hand is hot against your scalp, curving around the back of your neck, leading you forward so that he can fit his mouth against yours across the table.
Pleasure flutters out from the pull of his fingers in your hair, and his lips are soft and dry until he opens his mouth to you, guiding your tongue into his mouth, pressing his into yours. It’s slow at first. Tentative, as though he’s waiting for you to push him away. But you’ve never wanted anything more, and when you moan against his lips he stands, bracketing your face with both hands to pull you up from your own chair.
It’s a messy walk backwards from the table. You bump against the broken coffee table, pull away from his mouth to curse and rub your shin, but then he’s falling back onto the couch, pulling you down into his lap so that your thighs are bracketing his legs.
You pause like that, looking at each other, both breathless and dazed, lips bruised.
“This what you want?” He asks again, placing his hand at your jaw gently. His fingers are thick, hand so large that his thumb rests at your temple and while his index finger sits under your chin.
“I want you, Joel. Please.”
When he kisses you again, it’s hungry and animalistic. All pretence of hesitation is gone. He presses his mouth to your throat, lets his teeth scrape the delicate skin below your ear.
“This is still a bad idea.” He says, voice breaking when you roll your hips against his. ”Shit.”
“Please, Joel.” Your voice sounds tiny, shrill to your own ears, desperate and pathetic, but Joel bites at the juncture of your neck and it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except the feel of his hands on your hips, guiding you against him, pulling your clothed cunt against where he’s impossibly hard in his jeans.
“I’m gonna take this off.” He says, pulling at your shirt, tugging it up over your head. “And this.” He runs a hand over your covered tit, pinches your nipple beneath the thin fabric of your bra, rolls it between his finger and thumb while his other hand slides up your back and unclasps it. It falls between you, forgotten immediately.
“Fuck, darlin’, look at you.” He says, running the knuckle of his index finger over the swell of your chest, down along your ribs and across one hip. He lets his hand fall away, brings it back up to the side of your face, pulls your lips back to his and drags your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth.
Pain and pleasure blossom through you, make you scrabble at the buttons of his shirt, fingers shaking as you try and get them undone. He helps, slides the shirt off of his back, careful where his shoulder is still sore. He balls it up and casts it across the room, then grips your hips and lifts you, turning you onto your back on the sofa, pressing himself between your open thighs. The change in angle presses the seam of your jeans against your clit, a jolt of pleasure rocking through you.
“You ever done this before?” He asks, hovering over you, dipping down to press a chaste kiss against your collarbone.
“I ain’t that innocent, Joel.” You reply, gasping when he pulls your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth. “Have you?”
This earns you a deep chuckle, a hushed whisper against the back of your neck, “I’ve been doing this since before you were born, baby.”
And, fuck, that shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does. It has your hips lifting up, seeking out friction. Joel notices and slides down your body, dropping onto his knees on the floor. He runs one hand up the inside of your thigh, presses his thumb expertly against your covered clit.
“I’m gonna take these off now, and then you’re gonna come on my tongue. That sound okay?”
You nod, voice lost as he undoes the button on your jeans and pulls them down in one motion, pushing them away in the direction of his discarded shirt.
“Look how wet you are for me already.” He glides two fingers over the front of your soaked underwear, up to the waistband to hook them off.
And then he leans forward, presses light kisses up your thighs until he reaches your cunt. He pauses, blows a cool strip of air against you that has you trying to close your legs, but his hands are there, pinning them open for him. When he seals his lips over your clit and drags his tongue over it you thread your fingers through his hair, pull at the black-grey strands. You squeeze your eyes shut but he pulls away, chastises you gently.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” His voice is like molten chocolate, rich and dark, pulling you back so that you gaze down at him.
He swipes his tongue over your slit, gathers the slick that’s pooling there. He’s like a man possessed, eyes dark, hair standing up on end from where you’ve run your hands through it, cursing and moaning as he slides his tongue over your clit, starting up a firm and consistent rhythm that has you bucking against him. His hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, his forearms corded with muscle, biceps flexing up to those impossibly broad shoulders.
“You gonna come on my tongue?” He asks, hardly breaking away from you to grunt out the question.
“Yes, Joel, fuck, please.” You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, can hardly force yourself to keep your eyes on him where he kneels between your thighs like you’re an altar and he’s a lonely priest begging for repentance. It’s this thought – the idea of him worshipping you, tongue lapping over your clit, his eyes blazing with lust – that tips you over the edge. Your cunt clenches around nothing, body wracked with pleasure as you come, hard, on his tongue. He grins into your cunt as he feels you come apart against him, continues pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your pussy as you come down from the high, limbs shaking. When you finally push him away, overly sensitive and buzzing with pleasure, he rocks back on his heels, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Your pleasure is painted across his face, his greying stubble wet with your slick.
He crawls back up onto the couch between your thighs, dips his head to kiss you. You taste yourself on his lip; on his tongue when he sweeps it against the back of your teeth, heady and sweet. He presses himself against you, drags the front of his jeans over your bare skin. The buckle of his belt catches against your bare stomach and you hiss into his mouth, reach down to unbuckle it. It comes off easily, falls to the floor with a dull thud, and then you slip your fingers through the buttons of his jeans, undo them quickly, desperate to get them off. He stands briefly, pushes them the rest of the way down his thick thighs and then kneels back between your legs. Immediately you slide your hand into the waistband of his briefs. He feels like velvet wrapped around steel, hot and delicious in your fist. He groans into your mouth as you palm him desperately, sliding delicate skin over the head of him, feathering the pad of your thumb against his slit. When you draw his cock out you break away from his needy mouth to look. He’s big: thick, curving slightly to the left, head already weeping precum.
“Fist feels so good wrapped around my cock, sweetheart.” He tells you, “You gonna let me fuck you?”
It’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given. He chuckles darkly at your needy reply, pushes his briefs the rest of the way off and wraps his own fist around his cock. He slides himself over your cunt, coating himself in your juices. Then he’s notching the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, sucking in a breath as he pushes in gently, slowly, stretching you out deliciously.
“Good girl,” He murmurs, easing himself deeper, feeling you flex and clench around him, “good fucking girl.”
He stills when he’s fully seated inside you, sucks at a spot under your jaw that makes you gasp with pleasure, runs one big palm up your body to paw at your breast, trying to collect himself, twitching inside you with the effort of staying still.
“Cunt’s so goddamn tight, baby.” His voice is broken, pitchy and breathy against your ear.
You run your hands over his back, feeling out the breadth of his shoulders, the thin scars that lace across them, his muscles bunching and flexing beneath your fingers when he finally – finally – starts to move inside you, rocking his hips into yours, dragging himself all the way out and then gliding back in. The head of his cock hits something inside you that sends white hot pleasure jolting through your belly. The cabin is silent now – the rain has stopped – the only sounds are your frantic breathing and low, breathy moans, and Joel’s whispered praises as he rocks against you.
Good girl, so fucking good for me, letting me fuck you like this, cunt so tight around me, could come just thinking about it.
It’s dirty and sloppy and fucking incredible. The power you’ve seen him exert on infected and drunkards and raiders suddenly coiled over you, his muscles pulling you taunt against him when he changes the angle, sits up, pulls you with him so that you’re riding him, his cock somehow buried deeper in your cunt, your thighs bracketing him. You can feel yourself growing closer to release again, pleasure notching up in your belly like fire spreading. Joel shifts slightly again, makes space for his hand to come between you, places his thumb against your clit and presses, draws out slow, gentle circles that match the pace of his thrusts.
“Need my thumb on you clit while my cock’s buried inside you, sweetheart? Gonna come again just like this, huh? Dirty fucking girl.”
His words are like fuel on the fire and within seconds you’re moaning and shaking, cunt clenching around him as you come, harder than before, on his cock. Joel fucks you through it, keeps the steady pressure on your clit.
“Gonna make me come in this tight little pussy,” He says, and you know you shouldn’t, know you should make him pull out, but he feels so good inside you that you grind down on him telling him yes, please, fist your hands into his hair to pull his mouth against yours. The kiss is desperate and messy, all teeth and tongue. He hisses into your mouth as you buck your hips and drive them down on him, and then he’s swearing, fingers digging hard into your hips.
"Jesus, you feel so fucking good, baby, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna- shit.” He pulses inside you, painting your cunt with his come, hot and wet inside you.
You continue rocking against each other, slowly, coming down from the high. When he slides out of you and shifts away the old sofa groans out in protest, springs creaking. It makes you laugh, breathless, racking laughter than drives away the sudden realisation of what you’ve just done, of how you’ve indelibly changed the way you look at each other, the relationship between you.
“That was… fucking hell, Joel, that was incredible.”
He’s looking at you sideways, his hair still a mess, stubble still coated with your slick. He’s naked and vulnerable and you think it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. When he leans across to slot his lips against yours you grin against him, trying not to think about what happens next.
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel x you#the last of us fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfic
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✧˖*°࿐18+ mdni
𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: fluff, cursing, eddie has a prince albert, daddy kink(not sorry), unprotected p in v sex, squirting, multiple orgasms.
𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦
you’ve been aching, desperately aching for Eddie’s cock— since that night of his fourth week healing. He’s eaten you out and fingered you every chance he’s gotten, like: on your way home from the hideout and the grocery store, even in an elevator up to your mutual best friend Steve’s apartment. So needless to say he’s been pleasuring you in any way he can that doesn’t involve penetration; but it’s his eighth week and you’ve been impatiently awaiting it’s arrival. Finally, his prince albert piercing is fully healed and can be used as it was intended. You hoped you’d be the one getting used by the end of tonight.
Once eddie walked through the front door, you couldn’t help but to pounce on him. The thoughts you’ve had today alone, made you drip with need.
“Whoa, whoa!” He bemused with a chuckle as he sat his work bag down.
“I would ask how work was, but I’m trying to get in your pants.” You beamed, sending a salacious wink his way.
“Well, thank you for asking,” he smirked, grabbing the nape of your neck and pulling you into his chest. “I did this really sick piece on this older dude, it covered his whole back and he sat through it like a fucking champ.” He passionately spoke— it wasn’t unknown knowledge that eddie loved his job as a tattoo artist, he came home everyday telling you about the ‘cool shit’ he gets to draw on peoples bodies.
“That’s amazing baby! I can’t wait to hear all about it, right after you’re done fucking me.” You boldly challenge, looking up into his big doe eyes.
“Jesus, you’re like a kid on Christmas. Need it that bad, huh?” He mocks, face splitting with a sly smile.
“Ed’s, it’s been eight weeks since I’ve had you inside me, trust me when I say I am a kid on Christmas. I’ve thought about it all night; was so excited I even put on this little number for ya.” You suggestively bite your lower lip, slipping the black silk robe off of your body, revealing a cute chiffon two piece, the top was long sleeved and the fabric daintily gathered at your wrists, while the tops sat below your shoulders revealing them and an ample amount of cleavage, which was unnecessary considering that both the top and bottoms were completely see through, so much so that you could see just about every detail on your skin; the color of your nipples and how peaked they were, any mole or freckles, and especially the mound of hair you had just above your cunt— Eddie’s eyes specifically zoned in on the growing wet patch just below it. The bottoms were practically non existent, aside from the pretty silk ribbons that were tide into perfect little bows, sitting high on your curvy hips. One look at Eddie’s face and you knew the outfit or lack there of was doing its job.
“Fuck, when did you get this?” Your boyfriend asks, as his pupils burst wide with lustful hunger.
“Last week, when I went shopping with Steve and his new boy toy.” You giggle while his eyes roam over your body, as if every new inch of skin that his eyes met were logged into his brain to be treasured later. “You like?” You ask knowingly, unable to keep the satisfied look off of your face.
“You fucking know I do.” Eddie groans before picking you up and throwing you over his leather clad shoulder. You shriek in amusement as the wet patch in your panties grows double the size.
Once in your shared room, eddie roughly throws you onto your luscious king sized bed; your body flops down as you’re the one to now laugh at Eddie’s eagerness. The metalhead begins yanking off his clothes, desperate to match your nakedness, and he gets them off in record time, before enthusiastically pulling down his black briefs. His beautiful pink cock springs out, hard and leaking as the silver jewelry stares you right in the face. Apart from all of the lascivious thoughts you’ve had these past eight weeks, there was a side of you that was slightly nervous for what it’d feel like, if it would hurt or even bring you pleasure at all. But you’d been waiting too long with bated breath to care now, so you open your legs wide, silently telling eddie you’re for the taking.
His knees fall on the bed before crawling over you, once again hovering like he did that first night you both mutually masturbated and rubbed against each other to completion, except this time you’d be getting all of him and you couldn’t help the swoop in your belly from that thought.
“You ready, sweet girl?” Eddie murmurs, as he waits for your answer he rubs his thumb along your cheek, eyes raking along your face as if committing every little twitch or pout of your lip to memory.
“I’ve been ready, daddy.” You gently rub the tip of your nose against his before pulling him into a needy, sloppy and tongue filled kiss.
“Need you so fucking bad, kitten.” He whines before latching his lips back onto yours, his ringed hands fall to your hips and he works your pretty panties down your pretty thighs so he could get to that pretty pussy.
“Mmm, needy boy.” You whisper back with a cocksure gleam in your eyes.
“Is that how you’re wanting this to go? Hm? Cause you keep talkin’ to me like that and I’m gonna have to punish you.” He huffs but the smug smile he’s fighting tells you he’s enjoying every minute of your bratty attitude.
“Just want you to fuck me now, I’ve been a good girl I deserve it. You can punish me later, please.” You batt your lashes up at him as a pretty pout graces your lips.
“I’m gonna give you what you want, angel. Don’t worry.” The words leave his mouth just before he takes his cock in his hand and slaps it against the curls sitting just above where you’re aching for him.
“Don’t tease.” You mewl as you stuff the side of your face into the sheets, impatiently whining; begging was on the tip of your tongue until eddie lined his cock with your entrance and sunk in, cunt swallowing up his offering with the hunger you felt in your chest. The tip of the piercing immediately hit your sweet spot making you moan so loud, eddie had to pull back and asses your face before moving any further.
“Pleasedon’tfuckingstop!” The sentence rushing out of your mouth as if it were one big word.
Eddie, who is feeling just as desperate as you, needs absolutely no further proof before he’s sinking back into your warm, wet pussy. You suck him in as if you were made for him, heaven on legs.
“Yes, yes fuck! Thank you daddy, thank you!” You babble off praises as the piercing on the tip of his cock pounds against your g spot, unforgiving but so fucking welcomed.
“God, you’re dripping down my dick, baby.” The wetness from your cunt spurs him on as his thrusts speed up quicker, relentless and with passion.
You begin to tighten around him, squeezing him as the fire in your lower stomach blazes hot; hotter than ever before.
“Are you fucking coming, already?” He didn’t mean for it to sound so mocking, he was genuinely stunned that you were coming on his cock within a matter of minutes.
“Yes! Yes I’m coming!” You squeak as your legs begin to shake and your nails dig into his soft back, creating crescent like shapes in his milky white skin. 
“Oh shit, oh fuck!” Eddie begins to shout as you come for him, his cock squeezed so tight it was bordering on painful pleasure. You shake in his arms as you come down from your high but Eddie isn’t finished with you yet; his pace picks up and he’s fucking back into you like he never stopped, the silver, blunt jewelry continuously hitting your inner bundle of nerves. A few more thrusts and the fire is back with a blazing vengeance. Your cunt spasms around him again, making his eyes shoot to yours in disbelief, as he takes in the way you’re utterly falling apart for him.
“Holy shit.” He whispers, so close to your face his breath skims your lips.
“Eddie! Oh my-” you cant even finish your words as they dislodge from your brain, absolutely no thoughts but eddie, eddie, eddie. The second you feel that burn and need to push, you begin to stammer, wanting to tell him somethings not right, it feels different but nothing leaves your mouth. Instead a loud gush of fluid, echoes out around the sex scented room.
“What the-” eddie begins to ask, confusion written on his face as he looks down between your bodies, where you’re connected, immediately witnessing the soaked sheets and the droplets splayed on both his and your thighs.
“You squirted, holy fuck! You squirted kitten.” He beams with lust filled excitement, you lay there dumbfounded. You heard that these kinds of piercings were known to make pussy owners squirt, and you were hoping you’d be lucky enough to experience it but weren’t banking on it actually happening, it was more wishful thinking.
You and eddie smile at each other, before he’s going back in for the kill; kissing your lips sweetly as his hips begin to snap against yours. Thrusts egged on by his itching need to come.
“Ah fuck, you feel so good kitten. Shit I’m coming!” He breaths out harshly, as his forehead rests on yours; eyes meeting in a love filled gaze as he empties inside of you. The warmth of his spend has you moaning with him, holding him in your arms and pushing his hair off of his sweaty face.
You both lay intertwined, limbs kissing limbs as you and eddie recap the best sex you’d both just had, to date.
“So, the wait was worth it then?” Eddie asks, knowingly scanning your face.
“So fucking worth it.”
@wonderlandwalker hope you enjoy, babe!
tagging some moots <3
@corrodedcorpses @xxhellfirebunnyxx @taintedcigs @reidsbtch @chrrymunson @eddiesxangel @melodymunson @succubusmunson @mmunson86 @keeksandgigz @nailbatanddungeon @imyourdaninow
#—𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒#I wrote this while eating a bowl of cereal#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie stranger things#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 - 𝐥.𝐜 🪸
daughter of demeter! reader x luke castellan 🫧
summary- the “best friends” of camp half-blood maybe wanna become a little more..
warnings- fem!reader, not proofread
1.7k
Camp Half-blood was illuminated by gold streaks casted from the early morning sun. Light seeped into Cabin 4 through the window, painting the room with warm hues of yellow and orange. The bright rays were a natural alarm, gently waking you from your warm sleep.
As the covers slipped off your skin with ease, you carefully tiptoed out of the twin bed to close the blinds. Young campers softly snored, and you couldn’t help but smile at their blissful state. Grabbing the rough fabric, you quietly pulled the two pieces together, blocking any more sunlight from startling your siblings.
Sleep still threatened to drag you under, so you slipped on sandals and trudged towards the kitchen, eager to get a warm cup of coffee, or really anything to help you wake up.
Outside was fairly silent, contrary to the rowdy and noisy afternoons that typically filled the camp. The only ones awake were boisterous birds, who sung an enchanting song, and a few other counselors who were busy setting up for the day.
Your steady steps carried you to the small camp kitchen, where snacks littered the room as a reward for the effort of the counselors. A small jet black coffee maker stood on the counter, with Luke Castellan lingering next to it, facing away from you. Your presence went unnoticed by him, and you watched as he swiftly picked up two steaming mugs.
He slightly jumped at the sight of you, surprised by your hushed entrance.
“H-Hey. Made you your coffee.” He said, reaching out to awkwardly hand you one of the energizing brown liquids. You delicately giggled at him for his initial fright, and accepted the sweet gesture.
“Thank you. Excited for today’s activities?” You asked, taking a sip of your toasty drink. Today, Hermes and Demeter Cabin were partnering up for a lazy day doing arts and crafts and indoor activities. The kids spent the past week relentlessly training, working hard from dusk till dawn, so an easy day was needed.
“Any time I get to spend with you is exciting.” Luke replied, smirking, before realizing how that sounded and backtracking. “I- Uh, I didn’t mean it-“
You laughed again, quickly cutting him off.
“I know what you meant. See you at eight.” You turned away, teasingly bumping his shoulder.
“See ya.” He whispered out, pursing his lips and doing a slight nod as he witnessed you sauntering away.
You and Luke had been close friends since the beginning. He arrived with Annabeth and Grover, confused and broken by the world. Luke never wanted to be a demigod, to lose Thalia. It was all too much for him.
But then you passed by in the infirmary, practically radiating a positive energy. You smiled at him, a genuine smile, with your nose scrunching up and your eyes nearly closing, before going to chat with some Apollo kid.
You were selected to give him and Annabeth a tour later that afternoon, presumably for your friendly and charming personality that seemed to lure people in. Luke got to observe your perfection firsthand as you helped the his sister adapt to the new surroundings, sweetly showing her everything to love about camp.
Luke followed you around like a lost puppy, mesmerized by your every move. With every step you took, luscious flowers blossomed, creating a beautiful scenery. Not to mention, the kids looked up to you so dearly, with the way you patched their nearly invisible cuts and grew them tulips on their worst days.
The sad reality was you were more of a mother to them than their biological parents, even if you were only fourteen at the time. You did your best to make them feel “normal,” to let them live a glorious childhood that you were never granted.
In those five years after his arrival, you became close as ever. Whether it was spending time basking in the strawberry fields or splashing around in the lake, you spent every minute together, your bond stronger than any weapon forged in Olympus. You laid by him on those restless nights before he got claimed, and after, too. And when you had a small cold, he went full Apollo-mode and spent hours glued to your side until you felt better.
However, there was one teensy issue. Luke was hopelessly and utterly in love with you. Every one saw the way he gazed at you a little too long and with a little too much love in his eyes for just a friend.
Well, all noticed except you. The poor boy thought you weren’t interested, but the reality was your concept of love was so twisted and blurry that you had no clue what “love” even looked like.
So, both you and him stayed silent, hoping one would realize eventually, and end this torture of a situationship.
Which brings us back to now, a cool and humid lazy morning with the campers, lounging on the few picnic tables decorated outside Hermes Cabin. Luke watched as you sat with your (and his) siblings, carefully threading pearly pink beads on a flimsy string. You laughed as you talked to the young children, making sure they were all included. The sun brightened your features, making you appeal heavenly. And your eyes twinkled with curiosity as a little unclaimed kid ranted on about some silly story.
“Dude, you’re staring again.” Chris chimed in, raising his eyebrows as he continued to paint navy shades of blue onto a rock.
“Shut up. Aren’t you whipped for Clarisse?” Luke sarcastically asked.
“If anyones whipped here, it’s you. How long have you liked her now? Can’t you just tell her already?” He was quick to return the sassy attitude, remaining unbothered by his friend’s remark.
“It’s not that simple, you know that. What if she doesn’t like me back and-“ He tried to ramble on, negative thoughts swallowing him whole. Luckily, Chris was there to pull him out of his own mind with yet another dumb comment.
“Damn. I knew you weren’t Athena’s son, but I didn’t know you were that clueless.”
“What?” Luke questioned, slightly offended.
“How many guys has she dated since she met you?”
“None. But I don’t see how this really relates-“
“And how many have asked her out?”
Luke paused for a second. There was Ethan from Ares, who tried asking her on a date a week ago, but she declined. Or Jack from Aphrodite, who, let’s be real, was the most attractive boy in camp, but she rejected him, too.
Chris took his silence as a victory. “Exactly.” He retorted.
“Whatever.” Luke shrugged, hopping up to sit by you. You scooted to your left, making room for him instantly. Cheers erupted from the campers as they saw their (second favorite) counselor.
“Luke! Y/N told us that you still snore when you sleep!” One of them pipped out, sending the rest of the minions into a giggle fit. Luke took a dramatic gasp in, placing a hand on his heart to pretend he was hurt.
“I do not!” He yelped, making the younger laugh even harder. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the kids joke around.
“I can’t believe you would betray me like that!” He said to you, trying to fake upset, but the huge grin on his face said otherwise.
“I mean, am I wrong? You are the loudest sleeper I’ve ever met!” You reply, grinning.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks the other way, and before you can say anything, a voice cut you off.
“Hey! Luke, Y/N!” A blond Apollo child shouted from afar, gently jogging while approaching them. They shifted their attention, prepared to fulfill whatever task presented.
“Chiron needs you in the office. New kid arrived. They said his name was Percy or something?” He finished, jogging away, most likely to get back to the infirmary.
The leaders looked back at their older friend, wondering if he could cover while they helped this newcomer out.
Chris gave a thumbs up, signaling he could watch them for a few minutes.
You and Luke playfully danced around one another on the short stroll, talking about anything and everything while you walk through the woods.
Soon, you reached the open building, the stain glass windows casting a colorful glow. You peer inside to see a blond teen, looking around twelve years old, arguing with Dionysius.
“Peter Johnson is here!” The drunk croaked out, and the two counselors made sure to swoop in.
“Percy, Right?” You said, slightly a little too enthusiastic for 8am on a Tuesday morning.
“Yeah. At least someone around here can get my name right.” He rolled his eyes.
“Sorry about that. He can be a little.. chaotic. I’m Y/N, counselor of Demeter Cabin, and this is Luke, counselor of Hermes Cabin. We can give you a tour, if you want.” You explained, gesturing towards Luke who gave a friendly smile.
“Yeah, sure.” The blond boy replied.
-
“And this is Hermes Cabin, where you’ll be staying.” Luke exclaimed, pointing to the rough looking room.
“Uh, no offense, but why am I staying here?” Percy asked, disgust lingering in his words as he stared down the messy bunks.
“Uh, Offense taken. First of all, we’re definitely the best cabin of all time. And all unclaimed campers stay here, along with children of minor Gods.” The brunette said.
“Hate to break it to you Luke, but Demeter absolutely solos your Cabin.” You cut in, mouth letting out a ‘tsk’ sound.
“Slow your roll there. Your cabin may be neat, but the amount of plants in there is slightly concerning.” Luke joked, you and him now unknowingly engaged in your own little conversation.
“It’s better than your pig pen!” You shouted, your sweet laugh echoing throughout the area.
“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied, and Percy took a step back, running into an older teen, staring at the “friends” who were flirting right before everyone.
“Do they always act like this?” He asked, referring to their nonstop conversations, and their slight physical touch. Your fleshy fingers were somehow always grazing his calloused skin.
“Always. It’s sickening.” Chris replied.
“Agreed.” Percy sighed out, as Luke looked back at the two. They both gave an encouraging look, telling him to shoot his shot.
“Hey, I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to go out to the lake tonight? Just us?” He asked you, throat going dry and knees threatening to buckle as he fidgeted with his thumbs.
“I’d love too, Luke.” You replied, blushing as you swayed nervously.
“Great! It’s a date! Unless you don’t want it to be-“ He was quick to start, but you briefly interrupted.
“I’d like that.”
#luke castellan#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x demeter reader#liv’s writing !
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꒰ঌI’ll wait, Angel໒꒱
Pairing: Boyfriend!Ari x Virgin!Reader
Warnings: virgin!reader, no p in v, size kink, scent kink, reader is waiting till marriage, coming in between her folds, mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, overstimulation, fluff, mentions of Hockey player!Ari, Beefy!Ari (6,4), Soft!Ari, sickeningly sweet
Nicknames: Angel, Doe eyes, Doe, Bambi
Word count: 2.1k
A/N: This idea came from @junipermuses when she wrote this request 🫣
༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀༺
“I Need you Angel.” The desperation in his tone is unmistakable as he tosses down his gym bag and hockey stick at the entrance of the bedroom. His hair is still a little bit damp from the shower he routinely takes after practice and he seems exhausted, yet his wandering gaze full of lust tells a different story. You let you own eyes wander, raking your gaze over his exposed beefy arms and then further down to his grey sweatpants where a prominent tent is forming between his thick thighs.
You lean over and place your phone on the nightstand, picking up the two bunny plushies Ari had bought, Hops and Thumper, and also placing them on the nightstand, but making sure to turn them around. They didn’t need to see what Ari was about to do to you “How was practice?” You ask innocently as Ari stalks closer, peeling off his grey sleeveless crew neck, throwing it in a corner of the room.
“It went well. Curtis got knocked onto his ass by Bucky, he was pissed. Steve’s been teaching Buck to be more assertive, he almost kicked all of our asses today.” He recounts in a low whisper, crawling across the mattress towards you. He looms over you, raking his eyes over every part of your exposed and unexposed skin; he licks his plump, pink lips like an animal preparing for a meal. His eyes linger at your clavicle and neck before falling to the swell of your breasts, then down further to your hips and exposed thighs. “I outskated Steve today, probably a fluke, but it felt good to finally have a one up on him and Ransom didn’t show up again, he’s gonna get kicked off the team at this rate.” You chuckle at Ari’s small victory, he’s always trying to one up Steve. They act like siblings half the time.
“I’m glad you had a good day. Wish I could have seen Steve’s face when you beat him.” You knew you’d congratulate him better later on, but at the moment Ari seemed preoccupied with his own mission. He runs his giant hands over the white lace that borders the camisole tenderly, before moving to stroke across the silky baby pink material of the rest of the nightie tracing the outline of your body with his hands till he reaches the hem half way down your thigh.
“It was great. But do you know what’s better? You. Your body. I’ve been thinking about you all day, Angel, and to come home and see you in the middle of our bed—in this sexy little chemise is making me feel even better than when I won against Steve. I need you so badly, little Doe.” Ari growled, his large hands bunching your night dress at your hips—as he bends your knees so he can open your legs—revealing your lacey, white underwear with an incriminating damp spot on the silky fabric. Ari takes two fingers and teases at the wet patch, pressing and stretching the fabric with his fingers. He sandwiches your clit between your fingers squeezing it lightly, before rubbing his thumb against the covered button making your insides ache at the promise of the fact that his thick, deft fingers would soon be plunged deep within you. You squirm away slightly from his pleasurable touch, covering your face with your fisted hands and attempt to close your thighs around him. Ari only needs one of his powerful hands to keep your thighs open as he uses his other hand to take a handful of your ass and drag you back towards him “Don’t run from me, Doe eyes. Take all the pleasure I give you.” He pulls you panties down and tosses them to join his crew neck in the corner.
His fingers stretch your tight hole and he inserts them, you’re soaking for him “So tight for me, Angel, always so so tight even when you’re naughty little hole is dripping for me.” He cooes, angling his fingers to rub against the sensitive spongy spot within you. He targets that spot as he fucks his fingers into you. Your pussy sucks his fingers back inside as he pulls them out, not all the way, stopping when the tips of his fingers are the only part remaining inside you. You let out a choked needy sob; pushing your hips against Ari’s stationary fingers, beckoning him to move. “Please Bear!” You keen, your core fluttering around his fingers. His cock twitched at the nickname and he obliges driving his fingers back into you with the addition of another, the burn his thick fingers stretching you open made your nerves buzz. The heat in your tummy builds until your body convulses as you reach climax. Your back arches off the bed; you grab at the pillows behind you squeezing them in your tight grip, your knuckles turning white as you wail and hump his still postponing fingers “So good Ari” you choke, coming down from your high. He takes your hand into his, placing a kiss on the promise ring on your finger and brushes your soft skin against his beard.
“I’m gonna fuck your folds now, Angel, okay?” He thinks for you, running his bulbous, leaking head through your silken folds. Ari bites his lower lips in concentration as he holds the fat base guiding his length, using all the willpower inside of him to not slip inside you. Just imagining how tightly your precious little hole would clamp around him was enough to push him near climax “God, Angel, I can’t wait until I can actually put it in you. It’s gonna go so deep, it’s gonna fill your tight little hole so well.” he briefly rubs the head against your clit and you whimper at the teasing motion. He moves forward slightly, just enough to rest the base of his cock at your enterance and hover his whole cock over your stomach “Fuck. It’s so big compared to you.” Ari holds your face in his hand, the cool metal of the promise ring pressing against your hot skin as he does, and strokes his large thumb over your reddened cheeks. He lowers his face to yours and places a gentle kiss on your lips “I bet you can’t wait either, right my sweet Angel?”
You run your tongue over your lower lip and nod timidly “Can’t wait to be with you forever.” You whisper next to his ear, nuzzling your nose into the area under his jaw, the edge of his thick beard tickling your cheek; you take a deep breath in letting the scent of Ari replace all the oxygen in your lungs. He smelt strongly of magnolia and vanilla, with a tinge of musky sweat that remained from hockey practice. The image of Ari in his hockey gear enters your mind; his muscular frame straining against the mesh of his jersey, the size of his already big hands exaggerated by the bulky, padded gloves—you remember the time he let you try them on, two of you fingers fit in one of the finger holes— Going to any of his games was a struggle, he always had you sat in the front and you had full view of your boyfriend as he glided across the ice with ease; dominating the rink and intimidating the other team, when he came at them at full speed while defending. You could barely focus on the game, only on the face Ari made whilst in a state of extreme focus—it made your whole body burn seeing just how skilled he was, just how hot he was in his gear. Your mind elsewhere, as you wonder about which jockstrap he was wearing under all those layers.
You’re pulled out of your fantasies, by Ari pinching and twisting your nipples that had stiffened into hard peaks. You whine as props himself up on his knees and slots himself fully between your legs, Ari pulls down both of the straps of your nightgown and holds your breasts in his two hands “Perfect size Angel. You drifted back to me from your little imagination yet?” Your moan in response doesn’t satiate him “Speak to me Bambi.” He demands. That nickname… all because you looked like a newborn deer when he first tried to teach you to skate.
He squeezes the soft, warm flesh of your tits in his hands “Ari, want you to move pleaseee.” You cry rolling your hips into his dick that’s resting between you puffy folds, he obliges dragging his length through your dripping lips his heavy balls slapping against you ass as he quickens his pace, ensuring the head of his cock stimulates your throbbing pearl with every thrust. Something about the debaucherous wet sounds of his cocksliding through you folds made it all seem so sinful, you were so happy that Ari was surprisingly fine with waiting till marriage to go all the way with you; but by God if he didn’t make it hard with the way that he completely destroyed you without ever even entering you. Your thighs shake slightly and jostle into Ari, he hisses in response “Bear, are you okay?” You ask, moving your legs away from the spot they had just come in contact with.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Bucky just bashed into me a little too hard during practice” your eyes glance down at his hip and you see the beginnings of a bruise blossoming on his slightly tanned skin “Don’t worry I’ll be fine, you should worry about yourself right now though, Bambi.” Ari’s thumbs roll over your pebbled nipples as he rolls his hip slowly, relishing in your soft moans before driving his hips into yours vehemently a growl leaving his lips when he catches on your hole, it doesn’t slide in only nudges it and you wail in response the action making you even more plaint under his touch and stokes the pleasurable fire, burning hotter and hotter inside you.
You feel Ari’s cock twitch as he rubs against your clit. He takes his length into his hand, fisting his cock as he rubs your clit with his other hand. Your eyes glaze over as you feel the pressure building in your belly yet again. You whine as the coil within you breaks, raising your hips off the mattress like a woman possessed, and shoving your face into the pillows to muffle your cries as your legs shake with the pleasure wracking your body. The sight of you coming undone below him sends him over the edge, Ari throws his head back “Fuck fuck fuckkk.” Letting out a guttural string of curses as he comes, hot ropes of cum spurting out onto your mound and in between your folds. Through hooded eyes he looks down at the mess he made, smirking at the glistening white come decorating your cunt
“So beautiful Angel, like heaven.” He groans, Ari’s head dips between your legs, as he begins to lick and suck the mess of both your arousals out of your cunt; the bristly hair of his thick beard scratching the supple skin of your inner thighs as he laps at you. His tongue grazes your sensitive clit and your hands fly to his hair in an attempt to pull him away from the area; but he takes the bud into his mouth and sucks, looking up at you through his lashes as he does. You gasp as he suck’s ferociously at your clit, you can’t take another orgasm but you were still overly sensitive from your last orgasm. He burrows his tounge inside your, devouring your still clenching hole moaning as he slurps and sucks yours and his juices. He returns to your clit, flicking his tongue against the abused nun before taking it back into his mouth. You see plasmic stars burst behind your eyelids, turning everything behind your eyes into a white abyss as you squirt on his face. He lets go of your clit with a pop, a devilish grin spreading across his reddened, wet lips “You’re sensitive aren’t you little Doe.” Your head is so addled by pleasure that you barely hear him, but you squeak out a yes and he rises from the apex of your thighs and lays down on the bed beside you. He cuddles you close to his chest and uses his long arms to retrieve both bunnies, placing them above your head on the pillow. Ari strokes your hair with his hand as you nudge impossibly closer into his hairy chest, breathing in his scent trying to memorise it.
His warmth envelopes you completely as you lock your arms around his strong back, brushing your hand over the corded muscle of his broad shoulders “I love you, Bear.” Your whispered confession muffled by his chest, he heard you.
“I love you too, and I’ll wait as long as you need, Angel, even after marriage. Whenever you’re ready.”
Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @flamefoxxrecs @savstranger @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar
#soft dom!ari levinson#softdom!ari levinson#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x you#ari levinson drabble#ari levinson x f!reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson smut#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson#the red sea diving resort#red sea diving resort#chris evans smut#chris evans character fanfiction#chris evans character x reader#chris evans characters#chris evans#smut#fanficfion#smut fanfiction#beefy!ari levinson
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It be so funny if they took Joan to soccer game and put her either in the team colour or a cheerleading outfit.
Great minds think alike because I was just thinking that we having checked in with Joan in a while so this problem is perfect.
Every Saturday for over a month now, Joan has watched the humans and Ozzy leave the house in the morning and come back hours later loud, smelly, and energized. She does not have a problem with this per se but if she had eyebrows, she’d raise one of them. She would raise the other when they’re all too tired to play with her for too long after they come back.
So, Joan makes a decision.
When the next Saturday rolls around and Steve is digging around in the drier for his jersey, she makes her case known. She whines. She meows. She gets in the way of every step. She commits a drive-by biting. She even gets in the storage closet in the hallway and knocks over the dreaded cat stroller so it falls into the hallway.
She makes it very clear. She wants to go.
Eddie coos at her, “Awe, baby, she feels left out. Let’s take her.”
“Ed, it’s hot outside,” Steve replies, gesturing to Joan. She rubs her head against his leg. “She’s gray.”
“Steve, don’t be racist.”
“I’m not being – how is that –“ Steve sputters and then rambles on about tiny bodies, and fur, and overheating in the sun, but Joan already knows she got her way. Steve can’t say no to Eddie and he can’t say no to her either. Plus, she always gets her way.
Her way is the right way.
Steve sighs and gives in, “But if she gets too hot, you have to take her home.”
As a reward for Steve and Eddie’s good decision-making, Joan helps them get ready to leave. She wiggles her way into the cabinet with the first-aid kit and pulls out bandaids. She leaves them inside Steve’s cleats. He says thank you when he finds them.
Ozzy huffs from where he’s laying in his dog bed.
Joan purrs when Steve pets her head.
Since Eddie disappeared down into his studio the moment Steve agreed to let her come, Joan continues ‘helping Steve.’ Mainly, she cleans up (eats) all the scraps of lunchmeat he drops when making sandwiches for him, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy.
Eddie immerges from the studio ten minutes before they’re supposed to leave with a hastily sewed shirt made for a cat. It’s made out of the soft material of the cheer squad t-shirts he made for the other team members’ partners. He presents it first to Steve and then holds it out to Joan like, “Ta-dah.”
Joan sniffs the fabric – it smells like Eddie – and Steve is just like, “Why did you make that?”
“Because Joan’s got to represent, Stevie. We’re a jock family now and jocks wear their team colors,” Eddie insists, grin getting bigger when Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Everybody else is wearing team colors. Even Ozzy. See.”
He gestures to the pin attached to his yellow service dog vest that says ‘#1 Steve Harrington Defender.’ It’s right next to a patch that says ‘If You Pet Me, You Are A Part Of The Problem’ which is… “That’s new.”
“Yeah, I’m solving all the world’s problems today, baby,” He grins. “Isn’t that right, Joan?”
She hisses at the shirt.
#Its always fun to write from Joan’s perspective#also I just love the idea of Ozzy being annoyed by Steve thinking her for helping when she’s not actually helping. He helps. All the time.#Joan’s just like: it’s fine if you go out but you better have enough energy to play with me when you come back#eddie munson tiktok saga#steve harrington#eddie munson#Joan the disservice cat#Ozzy the service dog
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Mommy's good boy
(a mini-sequel to Mommy's milk )
cw: mommy kink, sub konig, tit play, praise kink, oral, very smutty
After that little encounter between you and König finding out he is turned on by lactating from your tits along with a mommy kink, He's been more on edge lately to do it again which today was his lucky day. since he would be coming home from overseas from a mission.
You had sent your child over to your parent's house for a couple days since they really wanted the chance to see their grandbaby and spoil them, your mother had given you a smirk knowing why you wanted to drop off the kid with her and you were just straight up honest, you wanted to spend time with König for a couple of days. your mom said nothing and kissed your cheek making sure you had fun with him.
So here you were it was past 2am nothing out of the ordinary since he always came back late. Soon hours passed as it slowly rolled to 4am You had texted König but he wasn't answering, it was probably due to no service over there you didn't blame him. After all, you guys had a week together without a screaming baby interrupting both of you. you got up from the couch making your way to bed you removed your robe placing it on a chair close to the vanity. climbing onto the bed you pulled the sheets over your body slowly drifting away to sleep.
Half an hour later König walks through the door, turning on the lights of the living room he sets his belongings down carefully making sure he doesn't wake you or his kid up. walking to the kitchen König sees saw the large plate of food wrapped in plastic wrap to protect it and one light on in the kitchen. You always made sure that König had a plate of food waiting for him to come home at a decent time. He heated up what he needed and shoveled all of it in his mouth as quietly as he could.
He could feel his chest rumbling from the moaning. After feeding his stomach, he took a shower, allowing the dirt and grime, dirt, and blood from his body. When he stepped out of the shower, he patched up the minor cuts and scrapes he got throughout his mission.
Quickly going on to check his child the crib was empty, panic set in he quickly and quietly dashed to your shared room with him, finding you asleep he sighed in relief as he saw you there but was still confused about why his kid is not there, sure only you would hold these answers.
he pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt along with removing his mask to sleep in before heading to bed. He smiled at you sleeping peacefully, wrapped up in all the covers from the stomach down. you were in a tank top, exposing your beautiful skin. Konig crawled into bed and stared at you for a while. His eyes trailed from the top of your body down to her hip which was covered. He placed a small kiss on your forehead before his attention was drawn to the necklace around their neck. It was of a Heart with its initials on the belly of the heart.
It was small enough not to worry him too much when she fell asleep with it on. Then his eyes trailed more to your breast. It was slightly cold in the room, making your nipples peek through the fabric of the tank top. For some reason, tonight, his mind became fuzzy with the stress of everything. His one goal was to wrap his lips around the nipple to softly suckle until his mind went blank. Keeping his eyes on your face to make sure you were still fast asleep.
All of today's dark, echoing thoughts vanish in the background and allow his mind to suckle on your breast mindlessly. His eyes focused on her breathing, watching for any signs and movement, and he cuddled close to her head, his head under her chin. All you did to move was wrap an arm around him, still sleeping.
“This is wrong. This is bad, like really bad she is going to hate you !” his mind screamed.
He wrapped his arm around your, pressing his body as close to you as possible. you still didn’t move. Using the tip of his finger, he grazed the top of the tank top, carefully pulling it down far enough to reveal your nipple. your skin was soft under his touch, your breast large and filled with milk enough for him to cup with both hands comfortable with still spillage between his fingers. It looked so comforting yet arousing, but his lack of erection signaled it to move.
Slowly he wrapped his lips around the nipple, not moving. When he felt your body stiffen in his arms, he tried to pull away. But your hand cupped the back of his head, keeping him in place. your breathing was not heavy, just slow and calm.
He took a tiny suck, waiting for her reaction, but none came. His eyes looked for your facial response, but it was still as peaceful. König began to suckle, not daring to move his hands, his eyes trained on your reaction, but still nothing. When he felt comfortable, he moved his arm to pull the blanket around your body, covering his shoulders and suckling until he fell asleep. For the first time in a few weeks, he slept with no nightmares.
roughly a couple of minutes after Konig fell asleep you woke up. There was a sharp tug on your nipple that jarred you fully awake. Not moving, out of fear of making whatever is sucking on her upset, you kept your hands where they were. you looked down to see Konig’s mouth around your nipple, sleeping peacefully. He still suckled in his sleep, but it wasn’t in a sexual way.
When König wanted to arouse you sexually, he would suckle on her neck, leaving hickeys, and his hands would trail to her core. This time was different. The suckling was soft, and your skin was tickled by his peaceful breathing.
He looked cute as you moved to stroke his head softly. You felt no desire to remove him from your breast. Your hand stroked his hair, watching for a moment as he rested before she too felt tired again. With one kiss on your forehead, you fell asleep as you were nursing your Husband.
Neither of you would wake up until noon. The haze of König was gone when he woke up. He blinked, surprised to see your breast instead of your hair or pillow, his mouth busy with the hardened nipple in his mouth. He pulled away slowly, nervous about what he had done while you began to wake up. König tucked your breast back into your tank top, praying that she would fall asleep, but his wrist was caught. your eyes blinked at him, watching his eyes build up with anxious tears, causing you to sit up and take his face in your hands.
"König its okay just breathe."
He shook his head, nearly shrinking into himself as he began to mumble out an apology.
“Konig, I’m not angry. I want you to look at me.”
Konig looked up, struggling to fight back his tears as he sniffled softly.
“Thank you” you kissed his forehead. “Let’s just talk about what happened and then take it from there.”
“Okay,” he reached himself forward while hugging her tightly.
You both sat there, cuddled close together before any of you began to talk. He spoke of how shitty the mission was and how he just wanted to feel protected for once—seeing your nipples poking made him want nothing more but to be lost in your chest. He apologized for touching your without permission and swore never to do it again.
you shook your head and kissed his forehead, saying you didn't mind. König always loved the fact you were to nurse him even though you already had a kid which was a lot to tend to but you always made time for him. and now it was his turn to be taken care of. She can remember the first time. When they began to make love during their honeymoon, it was an experience.
They both had highly long stairs, going for roughly four rounds until you were both exhausted. you both were also animistic in a way. Groans and moans and aggressive skin slapping filled the room as it shifted from lovemaking to fucking. In the first round, they worship each other, König more than you. He was between your legs, overwhelmed by the scent of her core, but he kept his eyes locked on hers.
“Ask me,” you ordered softly, already knowing what he was thinking of.
“Please let me lick you m….”
“Say it,” she said, reaching her hand down to stroke his bottom lip.
“Please let me lick your pussy, Mommy, please,” Konig begged as he caught your thumb in his mouth, sucking slowly.
“Lick mommy’s pussy, baby,” she moved her hand behind his head, pushing him at her core.
Praise fell from your mouth, encouraging his mouth to work overtime, forcing you to climax. He spelled both of their full names with his tongue, barely able to finish his last name before you came into his mouth. He swallowed every drop, encouraged by your head pets.
“That’s it, baby, don’t waste a drop.” you panted as he moved to push your legs back.
The air tickles your wet folds causing you to laugh and soon turn to moan as his heavy tongue lap you up. Konig could never answer how little it turned him on to have himself sucked off, but each time you attempted, he would whimper and tell her no that he just wanted to focus on pleasuring you. When he pulled up to look at you, his lips were puffy and dripping with spit and your juices. He lapped his tongue over his lips and moved forward to nuzzle his nose against yours.
"B-better... then last time m-mommy"
“So much better, baby boy. You are such a good boy,” the kisses sloppily, both of yours arms wrapped around each other.
Soon Konig was on top of her, slipping on the condom and squirting lube on his cock. you pumped him slowly, spreading it while you moved to bite his lip. When he pierced your body, you both screamed in each other's mouths in pleasure, tangled in each other as König thrust inside you. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing small slow circles as he began to pick up his thrusting. you moaned and screamed as he thrust inside of you, blabbing about how he was a good boy for you.
“Oh fuck Koni….your such a good boy….your mommy's good boy,” then he snapped.
He buried his face in your neck, moving his hands to clutch your thighs as he snapped deeper inside of you. He moves his knees up, keeping your legs high enough to pound you as he moved one hand to cover your screaming mouth, not needing another noise complaint.
“Fuck !” he growled in your neck repeatedly while pounding into you.
After the last three strokes, he came inside the condom, pushing himself balls deep inside of you. He panted shakily, his voice whispering Mommy until he emptied all of himself. He trusted himself a few more times, not caring for his sensitivity, wanting to wring out your orgasm. you came, shakily gripping his hair to pull him back to kiss him.
“Fuck Konig fuck that felt good,” you giggled while kissing his face.
His eyes were hazed over again, this time out of exhaustion, before nuzzling into her neck. you kissed his forehead, waiting for him to release his tight grip on your waist. When the shaky panting stopped, he pulled away and curled onto his side. He slipped the condom off, carefully tying it off before tossing it in the trash can beside the bed. He rolled over, looking at you, reaching for you with a soft whimper.
“Cuddle me,” he whispered, his voice turning softer.
“You wanna cuddle?” you said, mirroring his tone with a smile.
“Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes big with want.
Wrapped your arms around him, you carefully pulled him to his chest, his lip wrapped around your nipple, and suckled until his breathing slowed. When the both of you calmed down, neither moved to remove away and clean up.
“Mommy missed you baby,” you said, playing with his hair.
#cod mw2#mw2 smut#konig smut#konig x you#cod konig#konig x reader#konig cod#mw2 konig#mw2#mwii smut#cod smut#konig modern warfare#konig call of duty#mw2 spoilers
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"no one has ever cared about me like you do" (jungwon x reader)
genre: fluff word count: 0.7k requested by nonnie ♡
warnings: a little blood, mentions of getting into a fight, alcohol, jungwon being tipsy
a/n: i actually love the way this turned out!! i'm gonna post another drabble later on tonight <3
One of the things you completely didn't expect to find at your door at 2 am was a tipsy Jungwon. Frowning, you take in all of the cuts marring his face, bruised knuckles coming up to your view as he raises his hand up to wave at you awkwardly.
"Hi," he greets you, other arm outstretched on the door frame to stop himself from stumbling over onto you. "Can I come in?"
You nod your head silently, opening the door wider so that he can step in. Now, patching up Jungwon is something you've already grown used to doing throughout the past couple months. What you're not used to witnessing is the fight-seeking boy being drunk. Maybe it's all thanks to his high alcohol tolerance but not even once in your life have you ever seen him stumbling and tripping over his own feet as he giggles drunkenly underneath his nose.
After making him take off his shoes, you lead him to your bedroom, carefully guiding him through every step and threshold until he's safely resting on your bed. The soft floral scent of your fabric softener instantly brings peace to his hollering heart and he leans backwards until his head drops down on your pillows.
You leave him in your room, trusting him enough to know he's not going to hurt himself within your absence, and when you come back with your heavily-used first aid kit, he's watching you intently with his misty eyes.
"Tilt your face up," you tell him, grabbing him by his chin to help him with the task yourself.
Reaching for the soaked cotton ball, you start cleaning up the cuts on his face, dabbing on the already dried blood and wiping it away. Jungwon endures it all without the smallest whine, always feeling thankful for you to even have the will and strength to deal with him yet another time. Getting used to the stinging, he finds himself drifting off with the gentle touch of your fingers.
"Hey, stay with me for a little longer, okay?" You ask, leaning closer to him. Only now he can see the concern more prominent than usually painted on your features and he feels a sharp sting of guilt for making you feel such way. "Why are so you drunk tonight? And who did you get into a fight with again?"
He hums low in his throat, blinking up at you with his heavy eyelids. "I dunno. Kinda felt like doing shots today. Jake has no control when it comes to vodka, you know that," he explains simply, shrugging his arms with a small smile. "And it was just some guy at the party. Pissed me off loads."
You nod your head with a sigh. "Wonder when will be the first time you come to my doorstep in one piece."
Jungwon instantly notices the resentful hint in your voice, so he leans up on his elbows. "I'm sorry. I should stop bothering you with my bullshit at nights, I know you're probably tired of it at this point. I'll try not to the next time, okay?"
"That's not what I meant." You shake your head, putting the kit aside as you finally take a spot right next to him on your bed. "I don't mind you coming here. I'm glad that you're comfortable enough to let me help you. I'm just worried about you, that's all. I don't want you to seriously get hurt somewhere along the way, Won."
His heart melts at your words, so he quickly pulls you to his chest, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck so that you don't see the chokehold that you have on him written all over his features. He stretches his arm out, flicking the switch of the lamp on your bedside off and engulfing the both of you in a comfortable darkness.
He tugs the covers on top your bodies. The silence nearly lulls you to sleep, his calloused hands softly running over your skin before his muffled voice interrupts it.
"No one has ever cared about me like you do. I know I don't show it a lot but I really do appreciate you. Thank you."
"I love you," you mumble into his t-shirt tiredly, arms tightening around his middle.
Even though it's the first time you've ever said these words to him, they sound so incredibly easy on your tongue that instead of feeling nervous, a soothing warmth flows down his system. Pressing a kiss to the side of your head, he feels you snuggling even closer to him and he can't keep the exhausted smile from creeping upon his lips.
And he knows that no matter how drunk he would be, these words he would always remember. And would always mean with his entire heart.
"I love you too."
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#carly's 1k event ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა#1k event: requests ✎#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#jungwon x reader#jungwon imagines#yang jungwon x reader
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Chapter 7: Pain is what makes us /// Azriel X F!Reader
Summary: Y/N and Nesta have a nice bonding day. Elain is forced to face her feelings.
Word Count: 1,8K
Warnings: None for this part.
Notes: This fic is becoming my favorite...
Main Masterlist
Worlds Apart Masterlist
“It will definitely scar.” Madja warned as she removed the stitches from her wound two days later.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” The words slipped from her tongue with a darker meaning than she intended. Nesta watches as three faint lines remained and a more protuberant one stood in the end of her ribs, that might’ve been painful as fuck.
“Do you feel any pain?” She pressed her warm fingers against the sore patch of skin.
“Nope, i’m good as new.” The female smiled at her, a comforting smile that she received just a couple times in life, making her heart swell.
“Then you’re good to go, please be careful next time.” She warned with a stern look. Y/N jumped from her seat, pulling her shirt down and nodding her head.
“Thank you Lady Madja.” She giggled.
“Oh sweety, just Madja, it's fine.” Nesta laughed too, thanking the healer again before dragging Y/N out of her office and towards the busy city streets.
“We need to find you a dress for the Hewn City trip.” Nesta had their arms intertwined as she walked around towards her favourite boutique.
“What is Hewn City and why does everybody just talk about it?” It was true that since the announcement all they talked about was the upcoming trip, Nesta had promised to tell her the details but in between her training with the Valkyries and Y/N spending all of her time down the library with Lucien, they barely had time to talk about it.
“It’s the Court of Nightmares.” Nesta eyed the female. “They are kinda independent but they still answer to Rhysand, we go there sometimes to ensure everything is working as it should.”
“Sounds like a lovely place.” Nesta snorted.
“You’ll see.” She dragged her through a door to a small building, dresses were displayed in front of the glass windows.
A bell rang when they crossed the threshold, a lovely lady was behind a counter, hands pressing a purple fabric down the surface, while she marked with a piece of white chalk the parts where she had to cut with the giant scissor laying beside her hand.
“Nesta, welcome back darling.” Her brown eyes lit up as she turned her head spotting the female that had just entered.
“Nice to see you again, Imelda.” She smiled at the lady.
“What can I help you with today?” She crossed the counter, her eyes scanning Y/N’s silent form behind Nesta.
“I need a dress for my friend. Court of Nightmare dresses.” She winked.
“Over here, darlings.” The elderly lady turned her back leading the way to a section of the building that had various dresses in different dark shades.
“She makes the dresses for the inner circle, especially the ones we use there.” Nesta whispered as they followed Imelda.
“What kind of dress do you have in mind?” She asked Y/N and honestly? She had no idea what to answer, she had never worn a dress in her long existence, only her riding outfits and pants, they were easier to fight and run in case she needed to. No extra fabric to allow someone to grab at her and slow her down.
“I have no idea, but I trust you.” The female’s eyes lit even more with excitement.
“You can undress and wait behind that curtain, please.” The store was warm, Y/N found herself bare in front of a mirror, her eyes scanning the new scar on her side, then roaming over her frame and catching every single one of them, like she always did whenever she had to face herself.
The first dress was simple, just a floor length black dress with a halter top. Nesta scrunched her face at the sight, she looked good in it but it wasn't the one yet. That’s how she found herself opening that curtain to reveal dress after dress, just to be shoved back inside and try a new one.
“This is going to be the one.” Imelda warned, before her hand placed the dress on a chair by her side.
She slid the soft shimmery black fabric over her head, looking at herself in the mirror after she finished adjusting it. It was floor length like the previous ones, but it had two slits that reached the top of her legs, exposing so much skin, but she liked that. The upper half hugged her breasts perfectly, with a deep cleavage and just a strip of fabric holding the two parts together, the sides of her waist and a bit of her belly exposed. She turned around, swallowing hard past the lump on her throat at the exposed back and the scars marring her skin there.
“We want to see.” Nesta urged her outside, she took a deep breath, pushing the curtain aside and stepping outside. Nesta started to cheer, claiming that this was the perfect dress for her and telling Imelda to pack it cuz they were getting it. “You look breathtaking.” She complimented and Y/N blushed.
She looked at herself for a couple of minutes, how the dress complimented her figure, her full breasts spilling from the fabric and making her look beautiful. She faced a ginning Nesta outside the curtain, gently taking the dress out of her hands and giving it to Imelda.
“I have no money to pay for that.” She suddenly remembered and Nesta brushed her off.
“It’s going to the inner circle tab. Don’t worry about it.” The female smiled again. “Ready to walk some more? I need to go to this bookstore.” Y/N lit up.
“I could read something that doesn’t include very long rants about old gods being dicks.” Nesta nodded.
“I have the perfect books for you.”
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Another cosy and comfortable store, the smell of books lingered in the air and made her want to stay there forever. Not many people were inside, some gave Nesta a nasty glare and she noticed how she shuddered at them, curving her body to appear small.
“Why do they look at you that way?” Y/N asked when they were alone shuffling through books.
“Some think I'm a witch, that I'm evil. People call me Lady death.” Y/N raised an eyebrow.
“You say witch like it’s a bad thing.” Nesta turned to her ready to apologise. “I’m not offended, it’s just that they can think what they want of you, only you have the power to make their assumptions true. Let them think you’re a witch, we’re pretty cool anyway.”
“You’re right.” Nesta almost melted with the sympathy she found on her blue eyes. She didn’t know about her past, and it was a nice feeling knowing that someone had sympathy for her just being herself. “I should take you to Windhaven. They almost shat themselves at the mere thought of me being a witch, imagine if they saw you?”
“Terrorise males for no other reason than to have fun?” Nesta nodded in agreement. “Count me in then.” The two females laughed.
They had spent the whole day shopping. Nesta brought her new books, new shoes and jewellery to go with her dress, a nice pair of sapphire earrings and an arm cuff with a matching stone. Nesta was easy to talk to, warm and welcoming. At first she seemed cold and distant, but once she opened up she was a great person and Y/N was glad to be meeting her.
She had told her about her life, confiding in her with her story and that was something Y/N would treasure forever, that trust that she knew someone like Nesta didn’t give easily, but decided to give it to her. And that only made her more respectable, she was someone with flaws that everyday tried to do better than she did yesterday, she still failed sometimes but she didn’t let that stop her from getting up and trying one more time.
Y/N knew how it felt to see your world crumbling down and not being able to stop it, being stuck in the shambles of what you once were, not knowing how to find a way out, not being able to breath and just suffocating in the never ending pain. She had more in common with Nesta than she would've imagined and that brought the two closer.
And when they got back to the House of Wind, flying Meraxes together towards the residence, she knew she had made a friend for life, whether she got back to Erilea or not, the bond she shared with Nesta was engraved in her heart forever, to never be broken.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Azriel curled his arms around her waist, and his touch never felt heavier against her skin, wrong. Y/N’s words have been stuck in Elain’s head for two whole days, replaying themselves like a torturing symphony, driving her insane.
She hated to admit, especially cuz no one had ever called her out on this before, but deep down her gut, she knew the female was right. It wasn’t fair to Lucien to keep doing it, getting mad at every being that approached him, not allowing him to live. She was a coward that couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go. At least not yet.
She wanted to have a choice, choose differently from what people expected of her, her whole life was wasted in fulfilling other people’s expectations of what they thought she was. Choosing Azriel was her act of rebellion against the box everyone caged her in her whole life.
But now that she had experienced what choosing was like, she understood that she chose wrongly, Azriel would always have a place in her heart for helping her adjust to a new world, helping her out of her shell and teaching her how to live again, but her heart belonged to another, claimed and yarned for another touch, another gaze, another love.
She loved Azriel, but no longer how a woman loved a man, the love she had for him turned into a love a friend had for another. Whenever she thought of him the feeling of gratitude was bigger than anything else, but when she thought about Lucien, love was the only thing she could distinguish in between so many feelings towards him.
She didn’t want to hurt Azriel, not as he already had been hurt before, but was the right choice to keep pushing forwards just to make it more painful at the end? Wouldn’t it be better if they stopped here before she caused an unnecessary heartbreak in the male that didn’t deserve it? Azriel had a heart of gold and she would hate herself if she broke it.
She blinked, watching the ceiling in the dark. Shadows moved around it, his shadows that never dared to touch her, not like they did with the witch. Maybe they also knew that this wasn’t right and were just trying to protect their master. Elain took a deep breath forcing herself to go back to sleep so she wouldn’t be so tired on the next day.
For their sake and his, she would fix everything soon.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
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Harry's Home
Part IV.
Part I. Part II. Part III.
Pairing: Roommate!Harry/Roommate!Reader; Harry Styles/Curvy Reader
Word Count: ~13k words 😅 it’s been a long time comin’, babes!
🔞TW🔞: Adult Language, ‼️Unprotected Sex‼️, ‼️GRAPHIC SMUT‼️, Rough Sex, ‼️CNC‼️, ‼️Dubious Consent‼️, Daddy!Kink, ‼️Choking‼️, ‼️Degradation/Name-Calling‼️, Breeding!Kink, Spitting, ‼️Slapping‼️, Spanking, Cunnilingus, Creampie, Cum-Swapping, Cum-Fetish, 💕Fluff💕
I typically get home from work before Harry does, and so my current state of rest and relaxation—coincidentally adjacent to the book I’m holding: My Year of Rest and Relaxation—is an occurrence Harry’s used to coming home to by now. I mean, not that he’s coming home to me. He’s just…coming home, and I also happen to be living here. Speaking of which, I’m situated in my bedroom. I've already slipped into my night clothes—thin, loose pajama pants and an oversized crop tee—laying my back against the cushioned headboard of my bed.
Suddenly, my ears perk up. The hum and vibration of the garage door opening and closing pulls my attention away from the novel I’d been engrossed in for the past hour towards my empty door frame. Less than a minute later, a door slams, physically startling me, and my posture straightens as if I’m expecting a scolding. I have no reason to react this way, really. It’s not like I have Daddy Issues or anything…or even like this is something out of the ordinary…
Harry’s home…
That’s all.
But judging by the door slams, Harry’s not all sunshine and rainbows this evening. And that, as well, is not something out of the ordinary. Today is just like any other day. Nothing special. Nothing different. But for some reason, it’s as if I can feel the force of his brooding presence weighing heavily atop my chest from an entire floor away.
I’m staring dumbly at my room’s entrance. Harsh, stomping footsteps alert me of Harry’s wandering after-work routine. Even with my ears plugged, I’d still sense the undying tension between us growing as our distance lessened. My heart is pounding violently in my chest. I make the conscious decision to set my book aside on my nightstand once I realize I’ve read the same sentence 20 times.
“Hey, Bunny?! You upstairs, love?” his voice booms, and my thighs immediately squeeze together at the velvety baritone calling out for me. I’m stuck in place and now a competitive mouth-breather—I could be the final girl in a horror film. Geez, chill out, Y/N. I’ve welcomed him home a million times before, and I’ve never felt this…needy—nay—desperate. My body feels so starved. His footsteps are ascending up the stairs now.
Harry reaches our second floor and releases a deep sigh. “Mmhm?” My reply starts to flow out of me like a moan and I swallow the second half of it down in an attempt to cut it short. It’s for naught as I suck in a harsh breath immediately afterwards, sounding like I’m drowning on land. Oh, God…and I can feel a wet patch soaking through the crotch-seam of my pajamas. My nipples are poking out beyond my thin, lacy, unpadded bra, shamelessly creating peaks through my loose t-shirt. Harry suddenly appears from the depths of the hallway and stands tall at my open door. I’m maneuvering myself so that I’m sitting upright, but then the fabric slowly tugs taut over my chest, clinging to my sensitive nipples and stimulating them even more. My lips part and I can’t help the whimper that comes out of me. It’s audible enough that the man scrunches his forehead and questions my well-being once he hears it. “You alright, Bun’?” he asks, his brow arched with mild concern. I gasp, startled by his abrupt entrance, and my body instinctively recoils. My buxom breasts bounce from the action. The movement is subtle—well, as subtle as a large pair of jiggling tits can be when they’re knocked around by walls of inertia and the force of gravity—and Harry doesn’t miss any of it. His eyes blink down to watch the magic of physics for a moment, and all I can think about is how I hope he can’t see how hard my nipples are through my thin bra and top…
What am I even saying?! Who am I trying to convince? We all know I’d flash him Girls-Gone-Wild-style right now if I had the guts.
He furrows his eyebrows at me from across the dimly-lit room and leans his hip against the door frame, crossing his arms over his front. I’m trying not to become distracted by how well his biceps fill out his dress shirt, or by the way the muscles in his chest dance a little bit every time he folds his arms like that. “Uh-huh.” I moan(again), unable to form a coherent sentence. I’m still on my merry way to the mouth-breather national championships, but at least I’m not wheezing…yet. Am I on the verge of hyperventilation? Who knows. My body only seems to betray me…so stay tuned. Harry’s tongue pokes out of his mouth and he slicks it from side to side to dampen his bottom lip.
“Why ya so jumpy..? Wha’s wrong?” He inquires, his eyes drifting down to my heaving chest again. His eyes flick back up to mine seemingly as soon as he clocks the two little bullets aimed in his direction. His complexion warms, but I’m certain his blush is nothing compared to mine. I swear, if he keeps looking at my tits like that…Gah…Is it getting hotter in here? Shit, didn’t he ask me something? Eh, whatever. Words aren’t even exiting my mouth anymore. Harry’s just standing there, keeping his distance and watching me pant like I’ve just finished the mile-run in gym class (what a nightmare). Judging by the worry in his brow and genuine concern in his voice, I must have given him the impression that I’d just seen a goddamned ghost walk through the wall or something. I almost wish I had that excuse to fall back on right now…But the room falls silent. Each puff of carbon dioxide is released from my mouth like a silent cry for help. So now I’m really playing the part of the out-of-breath chubby girl in gym class. Not exactly the vibe I’m going for right now. Or ever. Never again—AH! I need to say something—anything! I can hear the swoosh of my eyelashes as they cut through the air every time I blink. I’m significantly hyper-aware of my body. What if I swallow the excess spit in my mouth and I start choking?! Oh, God…now I’m worried about that?!
Any explanation or reassurance Harry assumes to receive for my strange behavior is withheld. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even know how to explain myself to him because I’ve let this go on for too long. Seconds pass by in a torturous silence, but the seconds feel like minutes, and one minute feels like an eternity when I’m in the same room as a 6-foot ticking time-bomb who’s one nudge away from exploding into a holy-shit-fit. Crabby Harry doesn’t like to feel ignored. He doesn’t like to repeat himself. And he doesn’t like it when his pretty little roommate is disobedient.
Abandoning his usual, gentle inflection, he amplifies his voice and waves his hands back and forth, seemingly annoyed and now crossing the line over to belligerence. “Hellooo?!” Harry calls out to me. My ears ring at the aggressive tone and I flinch. “What's the matter with you, huh?” Still nothing. Well, I’m saying nothing. Everything is the matter with me. There’s so much wrong. Please help me. Get me out of this fucking room or I’ll scream.
Another empty beat goes by. This is so embarrassing.
Being the ill-tempered and impatient man he is, Harry’s reprimanding escalates, now practically yelling at me like I’ve been a bad girl, “Oi! What kind of bloody game are y’playin’ here?! ‘S not funny, Y/N. I’m over it.” He grits and steps completely into my room now. My personal space has officially been breached. I hold no more power in my safe little bubble anymore. He nods his head once whilst making a lifting gesture with his hand. “C’mon…Sit up and look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he bites out, his voice snappy and demanding.
Hm. Ok, so, it’s safe to say that he is, indeed, not in a good mood—not in the mood to try and be patient while his horny and dumb roommate is devouring him with her eyes and forgetting how to breathe properly, that’s for sure.
His heightened volume and combative language pulls me back to reality. I clear my throat and sit with my legs criss-crossed under me. My shaky hands find solace deep inside my lap, squeezing between the warm thickness of my thighs. The hasty new sitting position causes the crotch seam of my pajama pants to rest tightly against the slit of my pussy. Every time I move my hips or straighten my back, it tugs the thick seam forwards/backwards against my clit, sending waves of teasing pleasure through my lower tummy. But I try to be oblivious to this right now because I really don't need the extra stimulation. I’m already drenched and dying for Harry to pump load after load of cum inside of me—you know, just my typical Friday.
“I’m sorry…I-I’m…just really…super tired…” I fake a yawn. “…Just woke up from a nap.” I croak, lazily rubbing my eye to play it up. What a bold-faced lie—I’m wide fucking awake. My corneas may be stinging, and my thoughts are completely clouded with lust, but I couldn’t fall asleep right now even if I tried. He’d have to choke me out…Ooh…
God…
I tilt my head down, feeling utterly flustered and ashamed of my naughty internal voice. But I’m finally able to direct my rogue train of thought away from the tracks to fucktown, returning my sights to the real-life Harry who’s currently glaring at me. Yeesh…He’s pissed. “So, um…long day?” My voice cracks pathetically. Those are gonna be my famous last words, aren’t they? Harry clenches his jaw before answering me. “Long day—?” He stops himself, scoffs, and runs a hand through his hair. “Oh, Y/N, now that you’ve mentioned it, yes. My day was absolute shit!” His skin is heating up. He aggressively unbuttons his sleeve cuffs and roughly pushes them up to his elbows. Ugh, I love it when he does that.
The cranky version of Harry has been coming out more and more lately, and honestly, seeing him like this makes me melt. He’s so hot when he’s mad…is it wrong to think that? I can’t help it anyway. His pheromones constantly call out for me, relentless to allow me a break from wanting him. From needing him. I should be careful and let him be, but I’m dying to know how much aggression he could take out on me. What would he resort to? Would he bend me over his lap for a controlled punishment? Or would he hold me down while he savagely fucked his rage out? Oh, god, please…please. Harry pops open a few of his shirt buttons, working to cool himself off. I can see more of his skin now—a light dusting of hair, the swallow feathers, the antennas of his butterfly.
“Ran into construction on my way in, had to work through lunch, and I didn’t even get to see you before I left this morning…” He frowns, “...Probably why I’ve been a grump all day…” I chew on my lower lip anxiously and watch as his somber expression slowly lightens a smidge as he stares off into space. “Honestly, I was hoping my Bunny’s gorgeous face would welcome me home tonight…with those darling doe eyes and that smile…I thought she’d make me feel better…” I inhale in preparation to console him, or maybe to defend myself. I don’t even know what I want to say. It doesn’t matter, though, because he cuts me off before I can even think up a sentence. “But I guess y’just wanna be a right-fuckin’-pain’n my ass instead, don’t you, Y/N?” His accent thickens as his temper worsens. Pouting, I flick my eyes down to the stitching on my duvet of which my fingers seem to have been subconsciously fidgeting with since I’d first sat up. My teeth nervously nibble on my lip before whispering one of his words to myself. “Gorgeous…” My voice sounds so soft and meek, and I’m blushing like crazy. The atmosphere feels hot and humid, although it’s a crisp, Oregon October. “Wha—?” Harry takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment as if to collect his thoughts. “—Yes. I think you’re…quite lovely, actually. ‘Always thought that, Bunny.” His rough speech makes him sound so tired. So worn out. I want to make him feel better. There’s still time to do that, isn’t there?
He lifts his head and looks at me, and my breath hitches at the sharp eye contact. Unexpectedly, Harry grunts and kicks my door closed behind him with a splintering slam. My body jolts. “Harry…” I breathe out. If I wasn’t already feeling subby, I surely am now. It’s one thing for him to raise his voice, but he’s never gotten physical before. I’ve never seen this side of Harry...I’m…scared. But I want more... Jesus, I’m tumbling down into a bottomless pit of subspace, aren’t I…?
“You wanna know a secret, Bunny?” He scoffs, squeezing and releasing his hands at his sides. I see his knuckles turn from golden tan to white from the pressure, over and over again, until he looks down at his socked feet and shakes his head with the ghost of a smile on his flushed face. “God, I jus’…I jus’ wanna…” He clenches and unclenches his jaw several times during his pause of silence. His mouth is closed, but I know his teeth are gritted together. His next words are growled at me, and I can just barely process them. “...You’ve had no bloody clue, have you…?” He raises his head to shoot daggers at me and continues, “…No clue how bad I’ve needed…Christ, Y/N…” He’s pacing the floor. “…Fuck, from the moment you walked into that bar, I wanted to claim you. Did you know that?” He stops pacing, squints, and cocks his head at me, his inked arms crossed over his chest again.
Rhetorical questions are confusing(fucking annoying) when the person asking them looks at you like they’re expecting an answer. (like this: 👁️_👁️)
I instinctively avoid eye contact and drop my head down, my shoulders rotating forward defensively. “All this fucking time, Y/N…And now every goddamn second of every day, you taunt me. You hop around like the little fuck-bunny you are, your huge tits practically bouncing out of your bra—” He bites the inside of his cheek and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before clearing his throat and beginning again. “—wearing those tiny little shorts that barely cover that fat, juicy ass…Jesus Christ…all the fucking time, Y/N...” He groans. As he’s describing me, he becomes so infuriated that he needs to stop speaking just to let out an exasperated breath filled with rage and arousal. “...All the fucking time, I’m having to force myself to be good. I have to remind myself that you’re too sensitive…that I can’t…I…” He sighs and combs his fingers through his mane of soft curls. “...I have to be careful around you, y’know? Your existence…just you merely existing ‘round me…you drive me fucking mad…” I gulp and raise my head back up to see he has his back turned to me. His shoulders are heaving as he breathes heavily, and his muscles are clearly tensed beneath his slightly wrinkled button-down. He circles the room slowly, eventually standing before me once again. “You don’t know half the things I’ve wanted to do to you…” His dilated eyes twitch, and he gives me a lopsided grin. “...Except, you do, don’t you, sweetheart?” My mouth dries up like someone’s just pulled the spit drain. “Huh? W-what are you t-talking about?!” I nearly choke on my sorry excuse for denial. I stare at him in disbelief, wishing to God that I had the courage to sass him back. But all of that assertion seems to have gone on vacation.
Harry just shakes his head and grins devilishly. “Don’t be like that…” Bending forward, he huskily goads on, “…I know you want to suck my cock, Y/N.”
My eyes widen and my heart pumps harder in my chest as Harry nears closer to the bed. He’s burning holes into me and I can feel my skin heat up wherever his eyes roam. I’m beginning to scoot up farther toward the headboard in subconscious defense. “Hmm? What's that silly lil’ head of yours thinkin’ bout? Gagging on my dick? Bet that’s it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Bunny?” Though it’s clear in his inflection that his intentions are to get a rise out of me, his predatory stare and steady prowl he leads in my direction tell me otherwise. I’m being hunted. His knees hit the edge of my raised bed with a soft bump. Both of his hands slide down his torso and he rests one on his thigh whilst the other rubs up and down his straining erection. He lifts one knee up onto the bed, gaining in on me. I automatically draw my attention downwards, but regret it instantly because seeing the outline of his thickness makes me moan. The desert that once took over the cavern of my mouth has now been blessed with a river of needy saliva. When I switch back to Harry’s face, I’ve already been caught ogling. So much for denial, Y/N.
Harry chuckles boyishly—the same playful chuckle I’ll hear when I send him a meme or a TikTok from across the room or down the hall. It’s much more menacing hearing it now within this context. “D’you want Daddy to fuck your mouth, Princess?” He jeers, tilting his head. Scoffing, I stare up at him wide-eyed. In the low corners of my vision, my breasts rise and fall with every labored breath. I can hear myself almost gasping for air. I swallow the rest of my shock down and shake my head gently—I refuse to answer his filthy question aloud. He exhales bitterly, visibly irritated. “Hm. I knew you were just a fucking tease.” He says gruffly before giving his hard-on one more squeeze over his slacks. He shakes his head at me in what I perceive as disappointment, then leans forward on the bed, holding himself up by his palms. The ever-increasing closeness to this man intoxicates me. His aggression is further spiraling me into the permanence of that special space of mine. I can feel myself pouting my lips with my head bowed as if I’m being disciplined by, well…you know who.
(And, no. Not Voldemort.)
I don’t wanna say the D-word. Harry just used the term to try and embarrass me. To shame me. Fuck you, Harry. As I’ve confessed previously—I basically thrive off of his attention—and this right now, of course, is still fueling me deliciously. Although, I don’t quite enjoy how he’s accusing me of being a tease. He’s just being an asshole. Hmph…I am not a tease. I’ve got a bite, Styles. Just come a little closer, and I’ll prove it.
I don’t even realize that I’ve begun to glare at him until his voice takes me away from my raging thoughts. He lowers his timbre and slowly shakes his head once more, “Quit givin’ me that look, Bunny…Y’bout to start somethin’, aren’t ya?” He nods his chin at me. I nervously shrink into my bed, absent-mindedly squishing my tits together with my arms and furrowing my eyebrows like I’m about to reluctantly agree. But before I totally fold into the compliant little toy he wants me to be, I decide to change gears at the last second. Straightening up onto my knees and crawling towards him, I close in on him near the edge of the mattress, backing him up, my eyes narrowed and defiant as they meet with those of the audacious man leaning onto my bed. “So what if I do, Harry?” I surprise myself with how tough and bratty I sound. Harry only ‘tsk’s at my attempt at defending myself. Narrowing his eyes, he leans farther over the bed so that he’s almost touching my nose with his. He’s so close to me now, and I'm worried the pounding drumbeat of my heart is blowing my cover. But I refuse to surrender to his piercing gaze or cower away from him in fear. That’s what he wants me to do. He wants me to give him that power. But I won’t—not without a fight. Not without a struggle…Just a little bit…
I close my eyes for a moment and breathe deeply through my nose. The spicy notes of his signature cologne are making me salivate. Sure, I’ve caught whiffs of it once in a while during our hugs or in passing, but the scent communicates with me differently at this moment. Masculine. Woodsy. Clean. Like taking a gulp of spiked apple cider next to a bonfire on a cool fall evening, surrounded by giant pine trees. I’m addicted to the inhale. An intense desperation for more grows in the pit of my stomach as I continue to suck in the breaths of Harry. I never want the remnants of him to leave my lungs. It’s strange how something as simple as a fragrance has given me such primal desires. When I open my eyes again, I’m immediately drawn down to his lips. God…have they always been this pink and smooth? Harry must know I’m staring because he wets his mouth with his tongue before a clever smirk stretches across it. I bet he thinks I’m going to surrender. But I coax my attention away from his distracting features before I lose any more of my self-control. I can pull myself out of this, I know I can. I just need to channel my energy into something else other than lust. I focus towards the path of furiousness. The oath of silence I'd previously been taking is no longer an option for me as all I see are flames. Harry makes me so fucking mad. He comes home, slams doors, makes me feel vulnerable even in the safety of my own bedroom…degrades me, slams another fucking door…MY door. Calls me a fucking tease while he grabs his dick right in front of me?!
Alright—That’s it. No more playing nice. Go hard or go home, Y/N.
I straighten my posture, arching my back and subtly pushing my breasts out towards him, then relax, putting on my best poker face. “Go ahead, Harry…” I lure him, my voice all but a breathy coo. “…Take it out on me…” His eyebrow quirks up, but I know from the darkness in his eyes and the slight flare to his nostrils that he’s not amused by my sudden audacity. I continue, purring, “…Unless you’re too scared you’ll hurt me—” In a split second, his strong hand roughly wraps itself around my neck and I’m shoved backwards onto my duvet. He’s squeezing the sides of my throat and forcing his whole weight on top of me, pinning me down and blocking air. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. Harry inches closer until our lips barely brush together by a hair's width. “Fucking brat,” he practically spits. I struggle to swallow the hard lump in my throat. My body is stuck, painfully held down, yet I’m still desperately squirming to arch myself up against him for even the smallest bit of friction. I’m clenching my inner walls over and over again as if lazy kegels will soothe my itch. I’m essentially drooling out of both ends. I’m now realizing this isn’t a fucked up little game between housemates anymore. The line has finally been crossed.
Harry’s eyes drift down to my rosy lips and back up again. His nose nudges against mine. He knows exactly what I want and he’s taunting me…holding himself right in front of my face as I lay here, my eyesight blurring. “There’s no turning back now.” He seethes. He smiles darkly at my helplessness, then feathers his lips over the flushed skin of my cheek. His soft kisses press along the length of my jaw before he speaks again. “Just like how I can’t take back all those times I’ve wanked off listenin’ to your pretty moans from my room…” His words trail off against my goosebump-ridden neck. “...Inn’ that right, baby?” “Mmmhh.” I whimper in agreement, the noise vibrating from my larynx and into his large palm. Our shared heat is suffocatingly erotic. The air I breathe is damp and thick, but I can only see to basking in this paradise for all of eternity. I’m still panting under him with my arms lying dead at my sides, my fingernails biting into the heels of my hands. I feel like Harry’s peering into my subconscious with how intensely his pitted irises concentrate upon mine. I’m losing it. My sanity is at stake. I think I’m just in shock over the reality of the situation—the fact that this is all real. And if it is real, then Harry needs to get fucking going, otherwise I will scream until my stupid lungs give out. All I want at this moment is to have him on my tongue. To know what Harry tastes like. I can barely hear myself when I say it. I swallow dryly, his fingers pressed tightly against the delicate skin protecting the shift of muscles in my neck. A spark of audacity jolts through my lungs and I serve the ball back into his court.
“Kiss me.” Like a baby’s breath—that’s how gentle it is. My cheeks flush with embarrassment. What a silly thing to ask. He probably didn’t even hear me—
—Never you doubt these ears of mine, either…I can assure you, I hear everything.
The edge of Harry’s mouth quirks up and he presses his cheek against mine, breathing into my ear, “I hope you realize what you’re requesting…” He pauses to nibble my earlobe for a moment. “Because once I get a taste of you, I’ll never stop.” My breath hitches and I can’t help it as my hips jolt up for contact with his. He snickers. “Mmm, such a horny little thing.” Less than a second later, his lips collide with mine and I hum, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Our tongues meet briefly before our lips meet again in a desperate, yet rhythmic dance. I could get used to him turning my thoughts off this way.
After locking lips with a few guys, I stopped believing in that ‘spark,’ or the magical leg-pop thing from The Princess Diaries. I came to accept the reality behind kissing as it truly was: lips touching lips…And that was it. But kissing Harry isn’t like that at all. The affection feels genuine—I can feel him lament every sleepless night he’s spent praying that one day I’ll be his as his mouth massages mine. The unfettered desire we swirl against each other’s tongues is an atomic aphrodisiac. Every erogenous zone in my body is pulsating, and I seriously think I might come from this alone. But amidst all the lust, I’m encompassed by love. Each of my favorite cinematic movie kisses flash behind my eyelids as mine and Harry’s lips continue to lap tenderly.
His fingers tighten for just a pulse on my throat as if to remind me that he’s in control. I’m suddenly reminded of how much Harry prefers everything to go his way, and his way only. I know Harry prefers a challenge, so I’ll give it to him. A burst of confidence surges through my veins and I gently latch onto his bottom lip with my teeth. It’s then carefully released with a wet snap. A growl erupts from Harry’s chest, I can feel it just barely thumping against mine. I lift my tits up until I’m flush against his strong torso so our hearts can beat in sync. He drags his lips down my cheek and sucks on the side of my neck whilst the hand not grasping at my throat begins to explore. He starts at my shoulder, sliding down my collarbone, stopping briefly to fondle my breast, then continuing farther until he meets the elastic waistband of my pajama pants, dipping inside and circling behind me to grab my ass over my underwear. He presses our clothed sexes together and grinds into me. Fuck, it’s hot knowing I’m not the only one who’s wet.
I wiggle and squirm beneath him, essentially rubbing myself harder against his solid cock as a result. He groans and pushes his hips, hard, into mine before grinding them in random circular motions. “Ohh, fuck…s-stop it…” I plead, unconvincingly. It feels so fucking good. Why should I make this easy for him? I may have a high sex-drive, but I don’t put-out just for the hell of it. I mean, I guess it’s a little bit different when Harry’s the one trying to get in my pants…I’ve wanted this for so long. “N-no…Harry, stop!” I whine, pretending to protest against his touch. Harry’s face retreats from his attack on my neck to grin at me. “What are you doing?” He chuckles. His hand moves up to my hip, softly squeezing onto my bare, squishy love-handle from under my thin clothing. I shake my head and blink. Ugh, who am I kidding here? I want this. I need this. I’m just holding myself back from the blissful inevitable. I have to let go of my pride…I need to tell Harry that I want him to—“Fuck me.” I blurt out. His eyes widen, and I choose to repeat myself with a little more urging in my voice to emphasize my growing impatience. “Fuck me, Harry.” He lets out a bitter laugh, scoffing at my forwardness and tilts his head slightly. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you?” He asks patronizingly, and I nod. But it seems as though that wasn’t the response he was looking for, as Harry immediately reprimands me for my non-verbal confirmation. He blatantly slaps me across my face. The sharp sting has made me gasp. However, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by my anguish in the slightest. He takes pleasure in it. “Try again…What do you say?” A beat passes without a response from me. He slaps me again, “Say it!” I turn my head to face the wall for a moment. Huh? What do I say…? What should I say?! Please…? I don't know! What is he talking about?!
Harry’s now run out of all self-restraint. “You fucking bitch…,” he mumbles, the grip of his fingers sliding up from my throat to my cheeks, squeezing my jaw, then jerking and pointing my face directly to him. “Say it…Tell me who you want to fuck you.” He demands with more assertion. My vision slowly returns to its full clarity. And just as fast as the sharp colors that flood back into the world around me, the narcissistic asshole’s indirect request hits me like a motherfucking double-decker bus. If I wasn’t being watched so closely by Harry at the moment, I’d have the evilest, shit-eating grin on my face. “P-please, Daddy…” I grovel. “Please, fuck me.” Harry instantly smiles at the title I honor him with.
Of course he wants me to call him ‘Daddy’—the exact thing he’d used against me just a few minutes ago to try and make me feel insecure. What a prick. Typically, I’d roll my fucking eyes at his outright arrogance, but I’m far too distracted to care. My current condition holds no room for petty judgment to ruin this moment. I really just want Harry—Daddy—to fuck me.
“Mmm, that’s my girl, Bunny…I love when you’re good f’me, sweetheart.” The soothing hush of his voice combined with the mess of hot kisses he leaves down my face, smearing from my lips to the side of my neck, have released a new wave of liquid heat to pool out into my panties. I return to being choked again, but his affections don’t cease. He’s groaning and panting and lapping mercilessly at my skin—it’s as though he’s indulging in his special treat after a hard day’s work. Harry finds a particularly sensitive spot with the pressure of his lips and tongue, my loud gasp making it obvious. As he sucks a mark onto my skin there, I moan out and grab his chocolate locks to have something to hold onto. My neck is released from his chokehold. A fresh gust of air makes contact with my skin there and it sends a little shiver down my shoulders.
Both of his hands move down to grope at my chest, thumbing at my nipples over my thin shirt and bra. His delicate attention to my sensitive breasts forces me to vocalize my satisfaction. “Ohhhh!” Seeing the way his big hands can’t even encompass them completely is insanely hot for the both of us. “Goddamnit, I’ve wanted to touch these for so fucking long, Y/N.” Once he’s decided he’s teased himself enough, he lifts my shirt, shoving it up past the swells of my tits. My thin, lacy undergarment is practically begging to be discarded, and the stars must be on Harry’s side because the bra clasps together in the front. This revelation absolutely thrills him. He unfastens the center clip, beaming with lust as my tits are set free in a bouncy display before him. “Mmhh, my Godddd…look at you.” His lips and tongue immediately latch onto me—squishing both breasts with his hands and alternating between them with his mouth, licking sloppy wet trails around my areolas, his tongue swirling its way to the center and flicking the nubs until I whine for more. He then resorts to sucking on each of the budded nipples, playing with the opposite one with the damp pad of his thumb in tandem. He then gratefully cups my tits and groans as he buries his face between them. He does it all hungrily, moaning against my skin and relishing in my body’s feel and taste.
His needy technique delights me. It feels as if he’s taking his time to savor and memorize every detail of me with his slick tongue. I lay my head back and allow myself to bask in the pleasure, becoming entranced under Harry’s spell as his famished mouth kisses and sucks on my sensitive nipples. I comb my fingers through his loose curls and caress his stubbly cheeks with my gentle embrace. My clit is throbbing to experience direct stimulation from this man—swollen and jealous of my breasts which have received so much of his eager attention. His hands wander, grasping at the natural dip of my waist and sliding down to the band of my pajama pants at my hips. They linger for a bit, ghosting across the delicate, striped skin there. I twitch. My stomach clenches.
Please don’t…
Harry’s eyes meet mine and I’m biting my lip, fighting back my giggles. He smirks knowingly at me. “No, Harry.” I state with a waveringly warning tone. His fingers move just a hair, and my body tenses again. Without another beat, Harry tickles my sides furiously, making me shriek and laugh uncontrollably as his hands attack my sides. This seems to amuse him greatly as he refuses to pull back for another solid 10 seconds or so. Eventually, his tormenting concludes and I’m left with breathless titters. At this point, he confesses, “Ugh, your laugh makes me hard…feel what you do to me, Bunny.” He gently takes my hand and presses it against the front of his pants. I wrap my hand around him as best as I’m able to and stroke him a few times until he denies me of any more groping. We are both aching for that skin-on-skin contact that dry humping feels painfully futile. Harry resumes undressing me and manages to rid my wiggling legs from their modesty. All that remains to shield my lower half is a dainty pair of pink panties. I reach down and adjust them, smoothing the waistband across my thumbs and letting the elastic snap up high on my hips. Fuck yesss! I internally cheer. Past-Y/N thankfully chose hot-girl underwear this morning instead of granny panties! Harry is too distracted burying himself in my tits to notice, but in due time…soon Daddy will appreciate his Bunny’s adorable lil’ undies.
The dark melody of his voice tugs me back down to Earth—back to the feral man below me who has become addicted to the taste of my flesh. “Tell me…” He breathes out in between licks and bouts of suction. “...Tell me how hard you want Daddy to fuck you, baby.” I let out a whimper, feeling the dripping walls of velvet between my thighs pulse and squeeze around nothing. My response is delayed due to my fucked-out mind shutting out my thoughts. “However you’ll take me, Daddy.” I purr mindlessly. Harry’s hold on my throat returns without warning, and I blink rapidly as my tits jiggle from the abrupt movement. I barely dip back into reality, just enough to notice the way his hard rings are bruising my skin. His other hand travels south. He tickles across the peach fuzz on my tummy and I helplessly giggle out loud at the sensation.
“Yeah? Whatever I want?” He flashes his signature boyish smirk up at me, his eyes providing me with the most familiar yet intimate flash of ethereal green I’ve seen today, before resuming his descent for my sodden center. His fingers finally reach my clenched thighs. And clenched they are. He grunts, growing aggressively impatient once more, as he sponges sloppy kisses along my jawbone. “Open.” The word barely a mumble humming into my skin. “Open up f’me, love.” I whine and rub my thighs together. “Mm-mm…” I’m pathetically desperate for the slightest amount of friction against my clit, so thankful at this time that my thighs are as plush as they are. “Quit y’whinin’.” He mumbles against my cheek. His palm smacks the exposed skin of my outer thigh, and Harry pulls back to watch as my flesh jiggles from the sudden contact. The sight seems to arouse him. “Fuck…” As if out of raw, sexual instinct, he grabs at me there—pulling me and tilting my body so that he can see more of my backside—and then he releases his hand before sending it back down to slap the side of my ass, rubbing and squeezing onto it in admiration afterwards. “…This ass…fuck…fucking perfect, you know tha’...?” He lays me back down and grabs ahold of the front of my pillowy thigh with his hand, trying to gently separate it from its twin. “…Spread your sweet thighs f’me and I’ll make it feel better, baby...” He assures, giving me all the sugar in his voice just before he continues with a darker tone directly into my ear, raking his teeth down my neck. “...I promise I’ll make it all better.”
Our lust-shrouded eyes then lock onto one another. I choose to obey and shakily open myself up to him. He groans at his new view: A scrap of thin, baby pink cotton protecting my most sensitive bits. The pastel is flawless except for one large damp spot near my center. I was right—I’ve soaked right through. If it were any other situation, I’d try my best to retreat and hide myself away in shame. This isn’t one of those situations. Nay. I need Harry to see how miserable I am without his cock inside me. I need him to see the power he has over my pussy. His determined fingertips slide down to the dainty fabric to perform slow, vertical swipes across my entire slit. They press and rub—up and down…up…and down…until he’s got me humming and cooing from his touch, and eventually bucking my hips as well, at which he stills immediately. His calloused fingers rest firmly against the dampest spot on my underwear. I can feel him threatening to push his digits deeper—to disregard the flimsy, cloth barrier altogether and just plunge in. I can’t help but to squirm and mewl beneath him. I want more, more, more, so fucking badly. It all feels torturous now. Every move he makes turns my dial to the direction of mindless submission.
“I…I want you to use me now, Harry...p-please.” I whimper meekly. “Please just—” A hot gust of air quickly exits his flared nostrils. His touch parts away from my center for just
a second in order to deliver a rough spank against the moist cotton. I flinch and squeak at the abrupt punishment, my knees instinctively closing in. Harry puts a stop to them as if he’d been expecting this kind of response and splays me wide open, shoving himself between my thighs to hold me in position. “—What did I just fucking tell you?” “Mnnhh!” I whine, dragging it to emphasize my restlessness and to enunciate my desperate excitement for him. “No, none o’tha’. Be a good girl ‘n use your words.” I huff out in defiance and squirm under him, trying to pull him down to me by clutching his shirt. I can’t help that I’m throbbing and impatient. But he doesn’t find my uncooperation to be very warranted. Harry wants to tame me, not enable me.
Well, boo. 😣
“Fine. Be a brat. But brats get less privileges.” He leans back and unbuckles his belt, yanking it out of his pants and snatching my wrists. The leather tightens around them and my arms are pinned above my head. “Do not touch me unless I tell you to. Understand?” His voice has returned to its demanding inflection once more. I slowly nod. Instantly, he hits my cheek with an open hand, and I gasp at the growing sting. The slap was harder this time. That same hand then caresses my sore skin gently and he hums to try and comfort me. He softly kisses my cheek and speaks against it. “Your pretty face is getting all red, baby. You’ve gotta listen t’me, alright?” I sniffle, trying not to cry, and I bow my head, gathering the strength to apologize right afterwards. “Mm, Daddy…I-I’m sorry.” He smiles down at me once I find the courage to lift my chin and face him again. It’s contagious, and I mirror him without hesitation. “Oh, my sweet girl. You’re so beautiful, y’know tha’? So perfect…Hm, almost…” He sighs, smoothing his hand through my hair. “…All you need is my cock inside you.” I instantly moan, and I nod repeatedly at his last statement. “Mmhh, I want it so bad.” I whisper. He stops and chuckles bitterly. “Oh, I know, Bunny. You’re a needy little slut for me. Trust me. I know. But guess what? I’ll fuck you whenever I want. It’s not up to you.”
Ope…Mean Harry is back.
“Oh, I-I didn’t mean to upset you—” I frown when he laughs and interrupts me. “—That’s a fucking lie.” He punctuates with a rough thrust against my damp panties, staying pressed to me for a few seconds and panting. He pulls back to snarl at me. “You love it when I’m angry. I bet that’s exactly what you think about when you’re in here stuffing your fingers inside your dripping cunt.” He adds effect by giving my sodden pussy another quick spank. I gasp and blink at him, shocked. I mean…he’s not wrong. “I knew it…you want to be thrown around like the whore you are. You like it rough.” I whine, lifting my leg up and trying to hook it around Harry so I can pull him down to me. I need to feel him. But he catches my knee and pushes it up so it’s bent up to my chest, really pinning me down. “Are you truly as brainless as you look?” I shake my head at him as my face turns sullen. “You’re jus’ a stupid lil’ slut, aren’t you, Bunny…” He’s not asking, and I know that. And yet I still shake my head to deny his accusation anyway. My naivety amuses him. He reaches out and pinches my cheek. “You’re so cute and dumb. But I’m sure y’think you’ve got the beauty and the brains, hm?” He laughs and taps his index finger against my temple to illustrate. I bat my wispy lashes and sulk. “But you don't…jus’a stupid, cock-hungry bimbo.” He chuckles. “You do a terrible job at keeping quiet, ‘Bun…S’pitiful, really, how desperate you are to get fucked.” His hands wander down my body again, this time with a harsher touch. I just lay silently and take everything he gives me. “Thought I’d never say a fucking word, didn’t you?” With both hands, he pinches my nipples and pulls until my mouth opens with a gasp. He then lowers his head down and sucks onto my tongue. I moan, pushing myself upwards to try and get more of him. But he shoves me back down by my shoulders and grunts. “Can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t say anything when you go fucking yourself silly with those cute little toys you hide in your drawer…” He sits up on his knees and unbuttons the rest of his shirt, then unzips his pants, pushing them down far enough so that his erection is no longer strained by his tight trousers. The material of his boxer briefs has a wet patch near his tip and my nails dig into the belt wrapped around my wrists. He kicks his pants the rest of the way off and grips his length with one of his aggressive hands. “…While I’m right next door jerking this big, hard cock as you make a goddamn mess of yourself in here…” I moan at the sight of him—his bare abdomen now exposed as his dress shirt hangs on his shoulders, rolled up at the elbows. He traps me in with his hands cradling my head, then pulls down at my chin with his thumbs to signal for me to open my mouth. “…With my name on your tongue…” He spits and lets the saliva drip down into my mouth. Once it lands, he clutches my face with one hand and whispers, “Swallow.” I do as he says. “Mm, good girl.”
“And what’s with you bein’ so quiet today, huh? I’m used to you always runnin’ this mouth. I should start putting it to better use, hm? Shut you up by fucking your throat and jus’ come all over your pathetic face. Would that teach you?” My heart is pounding relentlessly in my ears. My lips separate in an attempt to release some sort of verbal response. It’s no use, though. I’m frozen and speechless. He sees my gaped mouth as an opportunity to shove two of his long fingers inside. I instinctively purr at finally having my oral fixation satiated, closing my lips and suckling. His skin tastes faintly of my own essence, but also of him. He’s literally got me wrapped around his fucking fingers. But I can’t say I’m mad about it. My body is shaking with anticipation. I need him. “Such a spoiled brat, y’know tha’? I’m bein’ much too nice to you…” He slaps my cheek with his other hand. “…I don’t think you even deserve my cum. But you’re just a pretentious little princess who's got empty holes needing to be filled.” My sight has gotten all watery and blurry. I’ve never been spoken to like this before. He pouts mockingly. “You poor baby…You’ve never been properly fucked, have you? Basically a virgin.” He groans out at his own revelation. “God…probably so tight…I’m gonna fucking ruin this cunt, baby.” I suck his fingers deeper, slurping on them while drool leaks out and I gaze wantonly at Harry. “Aw, look at you…sucking on me for dear life…I love seeing how badly you need it…” My eyes roll back at his insults. “What would our friends say if they saw you like this, hm? I wonder if they know how much of a filthy whore you are…how much you’ve begged for my cock to fill you…‘Should be ashamed of yourself, Bunny.”
“Mmhh…” I wordlessly hum against his hand.
He pulls his wet digits down—smearing my lower lip and chin with my spit.
Harry smirks at my glassy-eyed stare. “…Mm, you love this, don’t you? You love it when I’m mean.” I swallow some of the excess saliva on my tongue and lay my head back, closing my eyes. And he says I’m the tease…Fuck, I wanna see that cock already. I wanna FEEL it, goddamnit!
“Please, Daddy…I want you.” I whimper, feeling my throat ache as if I’m close to starting the waterworks just to get some dick around here. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. I know.” He stamps light kisses down my neck. The lips that graze across my hypersensitive skin linger. Harry inhales deeply through his nose, nuzzling his face into a pile of my long ringlets. Lowering his pitch to a soft whisper, he professes, “You’ve always had me, Bunny. And you’ll always be mine.” My lashes flutter as a wave of goosebumps trickles down my back and I struggle holding in a sob at his confession. I hum, nudging my face against his for his attention. He peers up at me with those lively green eyes now, as just Harry, and I tentatively lower my arms—still bound by his belt—downwards until my wrists are behind his neck. Before I even have the forethought of taking the lead, his lips are covering mine. The warmth this kiss exudes isn’t just physical. It’s a kiss that serenades three words into my heart without making a single sound. We’ve made a silent understanding of who we are—who we will be—he and I.
Because this is mine and Harry’s house…and Harry’s finally home.
Our lips release slowly, our shallow breaths mixing together as we stare at one another in silent adoration. Harry nuzzles my nose with his and mumbles for me, “Y/N?” Don’t get me wrong, I love his little nicknames for me. But hearing the drawl of his voice as he says my name…it hits different, y’know? “Yeah?” I rasp, swallowing the croakiness in my throat. He removes my arms from around his neck and begins unbuckling the belt. My brows pull together as I’m watching my wrists find freedom. “W-why—?” Harry interrupts me before I finish my question. “—I want you to be able to touch me, sweetheart.” The affirmation comes out whilst he kisses the faint marks where the belt bit into my delicate skin. I breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh…” Then Harry finishes his statement that I didn’t realize needed to be finished. “Because… unless you push me off right now, I won’t stop fucking you until you make me a real daddy.” I lay beneath him with my mouth agape, eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed…and there go the lazy kegels again. He wants to breed me.
Both of our mothers are gonna be pissed if he doesn’t put a ring on my finger first…but there’s no way in hell I’m pushing him off of me. I’d never push him off. Of course I want this. Does he want this?
“A-are you s—” “—I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life, Y/N.”
Either I’m an impossibly slow talker, or he’s incredibly impatient. Stop fucking interrupting me…also, why are we still tALKING?!
I blink at him and try to suppress my smile. My hands slip their way up his smooth chest and brush up through his perfectly disheveled hair. I’m marveling at how my gentle fingers cause his body to shudder and arch into me. I watch him as he’s breathing heavily above me, eyes hooded, mouth parted, and I glance down at his underwear and see that the wet spot is twice its previous size. Not to mention, the throbbing appendage kept inside is visibly twitching and jerking in its confines. I know I shouldn’t taunt the man, but my hands are busy…
“Awe, Daddy, you’re so hard for me, you’re almost as wet as I am.” I giggle. Harry’s eyes snap open and his brows ruffle with a furocity I suddenly recognize as dangerous territory. It seems I haven’t learned my lesson after the first time I poked the bear. My fingers halt their massaging. “Uh-oh.” I gulp. Sliding my hands down his neck and resting them on his shoulders, I await my scolding. With visible agitation, Harry grits, “Uh-oh is right, Bunny…Now flip over.” I hesitate, giving him a pleading look.
Was he serious about that being my last opportunity to tap out of this?
“Now!” I gasp and struggle to turn onto my stomach as he looms over me, caging me in with his arms. But I manage to wiggle around and awkwardly fall onto my front. My hair tickles my face. What now? Ouch, my boobs…ugh…my shirt is all twisted around my arms and back. Goddamnit. Harry laughs at me and my obvious discomfort, then carefully sweeps all my hair away from my face and neck. I sigh, turning my head to peek up at him expectantly. Holding my hair in his fist, he leans down—pressing his clothed erection into my ass. “Lemme ask you something, did you honestly think you were gonna slow me down with that silly resisting act earlier, hm? Sayin’ ‘No, please, stop, Harry,’ ” he mocks, using an exaggerated high-pitched voice to rudely impersonate me. “As if you’re not frothing at the mouth for my cock…” Laughing cruelly, he roughly yanks me up onto my hands and knees and forces my back to arch by pulling my head back by my hair. With his free hand, he grabs and gropes at my panty-clad ass. I can feel it jiggle as he plays around with it. “...My God, you’re a terrible liar. You only made me want you more.” I clench my inner walls, fighting against the wave of hot arousal drizzling out from my pussy lips, further drenching the crotch of my panties.
As I squeeze the plush of my thighs closed to remedy my achy clit, I’m hit with a sharp pain on my right buttcheek. I wail out in shock as another slap comes down hard onto the left shortly afterwards, the cool air of the room stinging my burning skin. “Such a bad bunny…pretending to deny me what’s rightfully mine…” Another lash, this time on my outer thigh. He wraps the length of my hair around his fist and pulls until my back touches his chest. The bottom hem of my baggy t-shirt slowly slips down and falls to cover my naked breasts, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry. He bites my ear and gropes me harshly over the fabric. His fingers pinch and rub one of my nipples through the rough cotton, coaxing a loud mewl out of me. “Mmmmmhhheeeee!” I squirm and writhe, but that just angers the man. “…Let me get this through your silly little-girl brain, all right?” I nod my head. “Please, tell me, Daddy.”
He’s silent for a beat.
I think consistently obeying him caught him off-guard this time. My mouth twitches and I force my smirk down with a bite to my lower lip. Sensing him expecting it, I carefully begin rotating my head to steal a glance at Harry. His tight grasp on my hair allows for me to do so, of which when I finally do make eye-contact, he closes in from the side and gives me a heated kiss, holding my face between his thumb and forefinger. When he releases my lips, he still keeps me in place with that hand and stares closely into my eyes whilst declaring, “I own you.” I gaze back unblinkingly, losing my ability to function the more I allow his engorged pupils to dilate. Just as my corneas burn and I tear up, he kisses me again and drops me back onto my hands and knees. Blinking my dazed eyes brings me back to reality—reminds me that I need to arch my back and present my ass for Harry.
Both hands grasp at my ass now. And both seem to have a plan as they slowly slide up and down my curves, shoving my t-shirt up my back and gently squeezing every part of me that’s squishable. “How dare you attempt to refuse me—to not consent to me—as if you have a bloody fucking choice…?!” His voice booms throughout the room and he snatches my hair once again. “...How…” *Slap!* *Yelp!* “...Fucking…” *Slap!* *Squeal!* “...Dare you…” *Slap, slap, slap, slap!* A gasp escapes my throat and I squeak at the man. “I-I’m sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry!” My bottom lip quivers and my image blurs with hot tears. Fuck. The reddening flesh of my ass and thighs is then unexpectedly met with gentle caresses and the slippery, wet mouth of my disciplinarian. He lets my hair fall down my back in loose curls and I shakily lift my upper half up by my weak arms to see what Harry’s up to. He’s covering my inflamed backside with healing licks and kisses. If the air didn’t sting so badly when his cooling spit was exposed to it, I’d find this to be comforting. However, I’m still very much feeling my punishment.
That’s not to say I didn’t like it…
His nimble fingers slip under the waistband of my pink panties, pulling them down whilst kissing down my raw skin and cooing. I suck in a breath as the fabric is finally removed from my slit. I don’t even care at this point, but I do feel a tad bit prouder knowing that I’d used up a waxing coupon and got the whole shebang just a couple days ago. I’m such a lucky bunny with my timing. My underwear is slowly slid off my feet and onto the floor, and without another beat, I feel a warm tongue flatten over my clit and slick itself all the way up to my ass. A strangled moan escapes my throat and my upper body collapses down onto the bed—leaving my knees bent and spread for Harry to dive head-first. And that, he does. He slurps and sucks on my cunt like he’s drinking the juice of a sacred fruit that he’s never tried before. As if this is his first and only chance to sip the nectar of the rarest bloom in this lifetime. He doesn’t even waste his time fucking me with his fingers, his hands are too preoccupied spreading me open and groping me all over. There’s no room for them anyway when his tongue or his nose is shoved deep inside me as he pushes my body deeper into the mattress. “Oh, God!” I gasp. Harry hums against my clit and sucks on it, making me repeat myself. “Oh, GOD! YES!”
“Mmm, yeah, scream f’me, baby.” He groans between sucks and lappings. I roll my eyes. Bastard. I decide to take the insult back when his ravenous tongue skims up my crack and circles the tight ring there. “Auhhh…fuuuuck...” I moan. That shouldn’t feel as good as it does…I’ve never been into butt stuff before…and yet, here I am—my ass spread wide open by, well, the love of my life who’s eating me like he’s working to find the center of my tootsie pop—almost considering the possibility…
…I hate this man.
He journeys back down to my leaking pussy, flicking my clit with the very tip of his tongue back and forth so effortlessly fast that my whole body quivers. It’s such a light touch, but in an area so stimulating that it’s tightening that coil inside me in record time. My breath is uneven and shaky. My legs wobble and are threatening to squeeze closed around his face. I’m debating whether it’s worth it to reach behind me and just shove his face into my cunt so I can have some relief…but I know better than to make a dumb move like that. Instead, I push back against his tongue and wiggle my hips with a desperate whine. “Mmmmhhh Daddy, pleeeease!”
But to my chagrin, he ignores me entirely. I’m clenching and unclenching my vaginal walls, pathetically pleading for him to give them something to hold onto. Anything. Fuck—even my ass is pulsing for attention now. “Ughhh!” My groan is muffled by the duvet, but I make a point to drag it out. Finally, I receive a reaction from Harry. His tongue takes a hiatus, my clit is relieved from its torture, and I’m roughly tugged around until I’m flat on my back.
“Mmmhh nooo! Wait!” I whimper, pouting whilst I watch him wipe my wetness off his face with the panties he’d tossed aside earlier. They were already soaked through, but now all the material has my musky sweetness covering it. He smirks. “These are mine now.”
I huff and cross my arms over my chest with a scrunched up face. He lets out a guffaw and combs his fingers through his messy, silky hair. “Hm, is my sweet Bunny mad that I didn’t make her come?” He taunts, climbing back onto the bed and atop of me. I stay still and silent. Once a brat, always a brat. I don’t know what to tell ya…
Harry gently wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes. “I know you’re just a brainless bimbo, but do you remember what Daddy said about using your words, baby?” His voice is all low and silky, and it’s not fucking fair because that makes being a stubborn bitch a lot harder. Damnit. And my nipples are hard again. I just want him inside me so fucking badly that I’m close to having a mental breakdown. I’m not even joking anymore. I’m ovulating and I’m hormonal and I’m hornier than any other literal bunny rabbit on this fucking planet. I’m never going to get fucked, am I? It’s all just another silly little dream of mine, isn’t it…and Harry Edward Styles will be the death of me.
I blink back tears. I sniffle and shut my eyes tightly. Harry’s eyes follow the tear’s slippery path down my cheek until it drips onto his hand. He can’t tell if he’s actually hurt my feelings this time. By the looks of me, he thinks he has. My strewn panties beg to differ. He frowns down at me and rubs soft swirls against my clit. “You want me to use this pussy, sweetheart?” The way he proceeds is somewhere between loving and condescending. He leans back, ditching the remnants of his clothing, and finally unleashes the pulsing appendage from the prison that was his boxer briefs. It’s shiny and dark pink. Staring at it and drooling seems to be all I can do at the moment. He returns to me and carefully lifts my t-shirt over my head and removes it altogether. The two of us are completely bare now.
I probably shouldn’t be as into this as I am…I should feel wary of what’s about to happen. I should be looking for a condom. But I can���t. I won’t. I want him to have his way with me, raw. The right way. And I’m gonna give him a baby.
The atmosphere in the room has changed. The natural light that had been peeking through my blinds earlier is no longer present as the sun has now set. My room is only illuminated by faint fairy lights hanging above us, casting a soft glow upon Harry’s skin. They just barely reflect through his eyes as he looks down at me, and I gaze up at him. He takes my thick legs and bends them at my knees, holding them up by the creamy bottoms of my thighs so that my pussy is completely exposed to him. Exposed in all its natural glistening beauty. My hair is splayed out on the bed whilst his curls fall, and others stick with sweat, down his forehead.
All I hear is the sounds of our breathing and my own heartbeat as it echoes in my ears. His hips move forward, the foreskin of his cock already pulled back, and the head taps my clit. Both of us watch as a string of his precum keeps us connected when he bobs his dick up and off my skin. Harry then settles himself at my dripping entrance, teasingly pushing just the tip in and out. This prodding is immediately met with faint, wet, squelching noises. I glance back up to Harry and see that his eyebrows are pinched together with carnal amusement and pleasure. But I can’t take this any longer. Pure sin has consumed every rational thought in my brain. “Make yourself a daddy, Harry.” Whispering those words and fluttering my eyelashes up at him are the only invitation he needs to lunge into pure chaos. And within the next second, he thrusts his hips forwards and effortlessly sheathes his entire length inside of me. I choke on the moan in my throat and my eyes roll back. “Ohhh…so tight, baby. Feel so…fucking good.” I can feel his cock throbbing inside me, like he’s fighting off his orgasm just after the first pump. He pulls out completely and pushes all the way back in, slowly picking up his pace. In a needy frenzy, I’m lifting my hips to meet his—fucking myself on his cock. “Fuck…you’re amazing…I should’ve done this the night I fucking met you, goddamnit,” he grunts. I nod repeatedly, having a difficult time putting words together. “Ugh, yes, you should’ve—fuck—you should’ve…oh, my God!” His eyes darken and I feel his hand collide with my cheek, making me gasp and grind upwards so my clit rubs against his pelvic bone. “Oh my god, yes!” I moan, throwing my head back. “Fuck!” I’ve turned ravenous at this point. His earlier statement describing me as brainless is now strengthening in integrity with every slick push inside me. “How dare you…how fucking dare you hide this body from me? You’re mine…” He’s practically growling in my ear. “…Mine…”
“…All…” *thrust* “…Of this…” *thrust* “...is…” *thrust* “…mine…” *thrust* He articulates between hard bucks of his hips. I whine and pout up at him, my breasts bouncing to and fro with every harsh slap of his skin against mine. “You filthy little bitch…always fucking yourself with your tiny fingers until you’ve bloody passed out…forcing me to come on myself when you’re just a room away…when you’ve been begging f’me through the wall…” He groans and hits my other cheek briskly. “…Sayin’ my name over ‘n over again like I’m not even there…it’s extremely rude of you, innit, Bunny?” I nod my head the best I can and whimper out, “Yes-s. You’re ri-ight. I-I’m sorry, D-Daddy…I’m s-sorry, Harry-y.” Harry scoffs and buries his face down between my jiggling tits, licking and sucking and biting all over them. He then pulls his face away and slaps both of them, back and forth, watching them bounce and redden from the impact. “You’re just a set of holes for me to come into whenever I want, aren’t you? Just a babbling little fucktoy…wanting me to toss ya ‘round and fuck you senseless.”
“Ohhh-my-god-yes!” I’m in absolute, utter bliss right now. Every hit of his palm, every toss of his hips, every time he degrades me—it all makes my lower tummy spark. The state of ecstasy I’m in is so strong that I don’t even have control over my body anymore. I’m pleading and begging and praising, grabbing and pulling and squeezing, all as if my limbs are possessed and the words I speak are merely from the voice of my subconscious. It’s all so chaotic—yet, the intimacy and closeness of our two bodies is so cohesive. It’s real. It’s emotional. It’s us.
This is how I’m meant to be fucked. This is what I’ve always needed. No one has ever exceeded every need the way that Harry is right now. And Harry has never felt so needed…So powerful. He wants to be this close to me for the rest of his existence. The sweet notes of my perfume mixed with the natural aroma of both our sexes are healing emotional wounds better than tea and honey cure a sore throat. I’m his, finally his.
His drenched cock ruthlessly stretches my sloppy-wet hole. Every plunge earns him another gush of hot juice that just seeps out from my lips as if I’m melting an ice cube inside of me. “I’m gonna fucking come…” he moans out, sweat dripping from his hairline. I squeeze around him. I’m close too. “…Fuck, Bun’…gonna pump all my cum inside this pretty cunt. That’s what you’ve always wanted, yeah? Want me to get y’knocked up?” My back arches off the bed. “Please…” He lowers his head down to suck on one of my nipples. “…Yes! Please come in me. Fuck…please! I’ve been so good for you, Daddy…” Harry lets my tit go with a ‘pop’ and grunts animalistically. “Mmm, you think you deserve it? Think you’ve earned my load, huh?” He ends his sentence with a single hard thrust and holds his hips still until we both are panting and dying to keep fucking—thus only lasting a few seconds before he’s rocking his hips furiously once more. I cry out, “Please come inside me. Give me all of it. Please, please, please!” Hot tears are actually streaming down my cheeks, cascading down to my neck, and some even dripping onto my bouncing breasts. Harry doesn’t let them go to waste, diving down to lap up the drops and trace the salty trails up my neck with his tongue. The strong grip of his ringed hand covers my throat. “You’re so pretty when you cry, Y/N.” He sighs and kisses my wet cheeks. “You’re gonna give me a baby.” I’m gonna give him a baby. “Let me give you a baby, Harry.” His hips stutter. “Oh my god, I love you.”
He pounds into me almost at a violent pace. The smacking of my fleshy thighs against his hips sounds so clearly like fucking. So desperate. So hard. Both of us swimming upstream, and gladly drowning in our own oceans of pleasure. I scream out and weakly grasp my dainty fingers around the front of his neck—mirroring his grip on mine–and I pull his face down so I can press my lips to his. The jerking of his hips becomes labored. The rhythm is sloppy. I can feel him twitch and pulse inside of me. “I love you,” I gasp against his lips.
The dam breaks. He curses and moans and juts his hips up into me mercilessly as if his life depends on it. His cum shoots out in long spurts, coating my womb with sticky white seed. I can feel each jet of release as it overflows me and drips down my ass, and a burst of cum hits my most sensitive spot. My own orgasm is triggered abruptly. I don’t even register my fingers reaching down to start rubbing my swollen clit. My pussy tightens around Harry like a vice and milks him for every last drop as he slowly pumps in and out of me, watching his cum-covered dick slide effortlessly while he chuckles and moans—still so turned on even in the aftermath of our debauchery. Within seconds, his entire body falls and his face buries itself in my hair. His cock is still sheathed deep inside me. It’s barely softened, still throbbing and twitching. Both of us are wheezing for breath. Every muscle has exerted its maximum amount of energy. The bed is our last support, holding the two of us in a pretzel of limbs snugly against its sheets. After a few minutes of breath regulation, Harry carefully pulls himself out of me. His cum then slowly flows out and covers my slit all the way down to my bum and onto the bed. Harry watches and smiles for a moment before looking back up to my flushed post-climax face—my eyelids heavy and a stupid grin on my lips that eventually turns into a giggle fit. The laughter is contagious and Harry ends up following suit.
Seemingly remembering the mess between my legs, Harry rakes a hand through his sweaty hair and looks back down to see his delectably messy creampie. “Oh…Shit. ‘M sorry, Bunny. Hold on.” He yanks himself up and off the bed, still stark naked, and makes haste towards the bathroom. But by the time he comes back with wet washcloths and a towel, I’m making a bigger mess. I’ve got both legs bent up to my chest, two of my fingers fucking his cum back into my pussy and curling up against my g-spot. I squeeze and moan as I climax against my hand, and I refuse to stop at just one. On my back with spread legs, I breathlessly ride my cum-covered fingers as Harry watches in awe. His spent cock flexes in approval of the sight before him. “You’re so fucking hot.” He grunts before dropping everything onto the floor and removing my hand, replacing it with himself. He slicks the underside of his cock up and down my drenched, sticky slit a few times, then pushes back home, making me sob as I orgasm around him again. He slowly grinds his pelvis into mine in a circular motion, ensuring he’s at his deepest point. Suddenly, I feel him sucking on my fingers, licking up our combined spend as his pelvic bone rubs my clit in slow strokes. I reach my face up to his for a taste and he grants me full access to his mouth, our tongues swirling together. But I want more. I lick up the last of his cum from my fingers hungrily.
“Ugh. Such a slut…fuck.” He groans, and I feel his cock release a couple more spurts of cum inside me.
A few minutes later, Harry and I are in the shower together. I’m hugging his middle as he slowly massages and rinses the shampoo from my hair with the handheld shower head. “Bunny?” My eyes are closed, enjoying this warm, peaceful wash session. Hearing Harry’s raspy voice makes me instinctually cuddle closer to his chest and smooth my fingertips down his back. “Mmhmm,” I hum against the slippery wing of a swallow. Suddenly, I’m aware of his fast heart rate and I’m no longer at peace. My eyelids pop open. “Harry…?” He releases a heavy sigh and hangs the shower head back up behind me before taking my hair in his hands and gently squeezing the water out. Still not saying a word. Now my heart is pounding. I grab his wrists and look up at him tentatively, but he pulls them down until he can encase my fingers with his. “I…” He hesitates.
Does he regret it now? Is this it? Is this the moment when my heart gets stomped on and shoved down the drain like undesirable mush? I think I’m gonna throw up—“I want you to know that I meant what I said…I love you, Y/N…” His eyes gloss over and he looks up at the ceiling to fight the growing moisture. “…And I know I probably just inseminated you, but—” We both laugh and he blushes. “But, uhm…fuck…I guess it’s a bit awkward to do this in the shower, innit…,” he gives me a lopsided grin, dimples and all. So cute. Whilst I’m distracted by Harry’s beauty, I’m slow to acknowledge how the man is cautiously kneeling down onto the slippery tile. My breath catches. “I, uh…” He clears his throat when his voice cracks. I’m suddenly extremely self-conscious due to the angle change, yet Harry is gazing up at me like I’m some sort of holy angel from the heavens. The foot he’s leaning his weight upon slips a little, and he grabs onto my thigh and I hold his shoulders as he finds his balance. I giggle at the situation—partially because of his clumsiness, and partially because I don’t really know what’s happening. The hot water sprinkles down lightly over the two of us like rain, droplets running down our bodies and the glass walls. Harry slips off his ‘S’ ring and takes a hold of my left hand. “…This is just a placeholder for now…but…Y/N…” He plants a soft kiss on the top of my hand. “…Will you marry me?” Holy fucking shit.
“Oh, so we’re just gonna skip the whole dating thing then?” His face immediately falls. “W-wha—” “—Am I not worth courting, Harry?” I give him my best sulk and he buys it. Ope, I guess I thought he’d call my bluff right away…Gotta shut this down!
I smile brightly and nod. “Fucking-duh, I’ll marry you, silly!” He playfully scoffs at my joke, sliding the too-large-ring on my little ring finger and stands back up to his full height—almost a foot taller than me. I’m then shoved against the back tile wall, one of my legs hiked up and draped over his elbow. I gasp as he enters me without warning. He bucks into me hard, brutal, slow. Each sound that he fucks out of me is louder and higher-pitched than the last. “Yeah, of course you’ll marry me, huh…be a good little housewife f’me…wait ‘til I come home every night so I can fuck another pint of my cum into your tight little twat…would you like that, Bunny? Hm?” I whine and clutch onto his hair with one hand as the other squeezes his strong shoulder. “Yes…it’s already my favorite part of the day…” He chuckles darkly against my lips before biting them. “‘N what’s that, Bun’?”
“Mmmhh…when Harry’s home!” I exclaim weakly, my ass smacking against the wet wall behind me. “Mmm, Harry’s home, baby…Harry’s home.”
______________________________________________________________
Sorry it took forever. I wanted to make it exactly the way I wanted. I hope you liked it.
:) ~ Regan
Taglist:
@daphnesutton
@victoria-styles
@pishhhh20989
@heyyyloverr
@youdontcaredoyou
@jerseygirlinca
#harry styles smut#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfic#harry x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry edward styles#harry smut#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles masterlist#harrys house#harrystyles#harrystylessmuttyfics#therealhousewifeofharrystyles#harry styles x curvy reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles series#harry styles dirty fanfiction#harry styles y/n#harry styles fanfic rec#harry styles au#harry styles angst#harry styles writing
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♪*✧Ramshackle Day Off✧*♪
~It’s official: I’ve gained yet another hyperfixation. I absolutely LOVED the pilot for Ramshackle; the trash goblins grabbed my focus. So, as with all my faves, they’re getting the special treatment. If this is your flavor of interest, I hope you Enjoy!~
Lee: Stone
Lers: Skipp, Vinnie
Summary: Stone’s having one of his emo moments, feeling down and not even cracking his usual half-smile. Skipp and Vinnie decide to help, using the one method they know will always cheer up their grungy friend.
Warnings: alcohol/cigarettes mentioned! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
In their slum alley, the three lovable scraps lounged about, enjoying one of the very few days where they didn't have to fight to survive.
Vinnie had hit the motherload that morning in a dumpster: an entire case of Hickory Smoked Beans, just past their expiration date. It was a Ramshackle miracle.
Since they didn't have to forage for money or food, the trio could take a sort of off-day. While Vinnie and Skipp were lounging and making the most of it, Stone couldn't help but feel morose.
Sure, they had enough food for a few days. But what happens after that? What would they do when they ran out and had to go back to their normal pattern? What if they couldn't get enough, and not even shoes could sustain them?
He'd usually just chug a bit of liquor to calm those thoughts, but it didn't seem to be doing much. Life felt…impossibly meaningless. Like no matter how hard they tried, the universe would continue to put them in their place at the very bottom.
Stone had a particular look when he got into those moods. His eyes seemed distant, he sighed more, and a bottle of some cheap, scavenged liquor was always nearby.
While looking for some fabric to patch his newest jacket hole, Skipp noticed his friend's sullen attitude. It wasn't a rare sight, by any means, but it still worried him to see Stone so upset.
“Hey…you alright, Stone? You seem kinda out of it.” Skipp kept a respectful distance, not knowing if his friend was in a touch-positive mood or not. He extended a hand to silently ask if touch was okay. Stone shrugged, taking a swig from his mystery bottle.
“Aren’t we all? ‘re we ever really in it, or are we jus’ waitin’ for death to find us and put us in our final place?”
“Uh…okay?” Skipp patted the emotional man’s head before scooting away, going to find Vinnie. She would know what to do…probably.
Vinnie was lounging on one of their make-shift nests when Skipp found her. She groaned, stretching as she sat up from the pile of ratty blankets and coats.
“What is it now? Today’s supposed to be relaxing,” she whined, running a hand through her unruly hair. Skipp pointed to their drunken, miserable-looking friend. “Stone’s in a sad mood again.”
“Fuckin’...course he is. The one damn day we get off…” Vinnie grumbled, dramatically hauling herself completely out of her semi-comfortable nest. “He okay with touch?”
After the blonde nodded, she marched over to Stone, waving for him to do the same. Instead of greeting him, she straddled the dejected man, squeezing his hips.
“GRK- Vihihinnie! W-whahat the hehell?!” Stone dropped his bottle, hands flying to grab Vinnie’s wrists. He was drunk, though, so his fight wasn’t a very effective one.
Skipp blushed, his eyes widening. Vinnie’s fix was…tickling him? The optimistic guy never could handle watching tickle fights without getting flustered, but now…
It looked fun from both perspectives, and Stone was quite upset. He was pretty sure his mind would behave and let him wreck his friend for one.
“Isn’t it obvious? We’re cheering you up!” Even though his cheeks were still rosy, Skipp joined in, spidering his short nails on Stone’s kneecaps. It would almost certainly come back to haunt him later, but he didn’t really mind; that was a sort of bonus.
“Yep. It’s too good of a day for that depressing bullshit. You need to learn how to smile, ya mopey shit.” Vinnie was a bit less sweet, but there was a kindness in her salty words. She really cared for Stone, even if he was a depressing asshole sometimes.
“Guhuhuys! Fuhuck ohohohoff!” Stone squirmed and twisted under Vinnie, feeling the four evil hands on him. He squeezed Vinnie’s wrists, though he wasn’t exactly trying to shove her off. This wasn't lost on his friends.
“Aww, you like this, don’t you?” Surprisingly, Skipp was the one to tease him. It wasn’t exactly meant to be one, but that’s what it felt like to the giggling man. He groaned through the happy sound, covering his face with one hand.
“Holy shit, Skipp. I think you’re right!” Vinnie chuckled, though she already knew that was the case. It was hardly the first time she’d used the method to get Stone to quit moping, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. He needed to smile more.
“Wonder what happens if I go here…” Vinnie clawed at the back of Stone’s ribs, making him snort and start cackling. It was his worst spot, and she knew it. “Oh. That. How cute!”
Was that a bit mean? Maybe, yeah, but Stone seemed like he was writing gothic poetry that morning. The shithead needed to laugh that Ramshackle sadness off.
“’M NOHOHOT CUHUTE!” Stone was practically losing it at that point. Skipp had decided to move to the undersides of his knees. That combined with the backs of his ribs was almost more than he could handle. Almost.
“VIHIHINNY! GEHE’ OHOHOHOFF’A THEHEHERE!” Stone writhed, arching his back to try and avoid her fingers. He kicked his legs, but that was pretty much useless when she was on his thighs. Skipp had free reign of his lower body, and Vinnie was practically unstoppable up top.
“But I like it here! You look like Maggot with all that squirming, dude.” She mentioned their angelic friend, trying to get him blushing more. His cheeks were pink, but Vinnie wanted more. She knew how red he could get.
“Oh yeah, he does!” Out of Stone’s view, Skipp giggled, making Stone groan. That little ball of sunshine just had to comment on everything, didn’t he? Stone cared for him, of course; he just wanted to lovingly strangle him sometimes.
“You know what eats maggots, Stone?” He flipped the blonde off, but Skipp didn’t mind. The next few seconds would make up for that. “Jumping spiders!”
Skipp clawed his hands, switching spots every few seconds to spider each area on his legs. It was kinda dumb, but scientifically accurate. That, and it tickled like crazy.
“SKIHIHIHPP! IHIHI- PFFAHAHAHA!” All protests died, swallowed up in loud, throaty cackles. His nerves were practically on fire, his thoughts drowned out by his own laughter. It was finally too much.
“EHEHENOHOUGH!” Stone yelled through his mirth, patting Vinnie’s shoulder. She immediately pulled away, Skipp following suit. Vinnie climbed off, giving him a second.
Stone immediately curled in on himself, turning into a giggly pill bug as he recovered. “F-fuhuhuck youhu guhuhuhuys…”
Vinnie chuckled, used to his profanities. She knows they usually mean he had fun, but was still a bit salty. Skipp, however, was concerned they’d crossed a line. “Stone? Did we go too far?”
The man huffed, swallowing another bout of giggles. His composure was mostly back, the thin line of his lips showing a ghost of a smile. “Nah, yohou’re fine. Youhu suck, thohough.”
Rolling her eyes, Vinnie nudged the giggly man’s shoulder. “Ah, whatever. You were being a downer, and you know it.”
Stone lovingly flipped her off and grumbled something under his breath. Skipp pulled both of them into a hug, and for once, Stone didn’t pull away. He’d never admit it, but the embrace felt nice at that moment.
“C’mon, guys. Let’s enjoy our day off!” Skipp’s attitude remained bright as ever. Stone opened his mouth to argue, but huffed and shook his head.
“Fine. I’m taking Vinnie’s nest.” Stone sauntered over to the pile of cloth, smirking at Vinnie’s near-instant outrage.
“Hey! Get your own rags, Nevermore!” The two started playfully wrestling, fighting over the nest Skipp knew they’d end up sharing. He leaned against the wall of the slum alley, watching his friends and taking in the happiness they both now felt.
Yep. Perfect Ramshackle day off.
#ramshackle tickle#lee!stone#ler!skipp#ler!vinnie#ticklish!stone#sfw tickling community#tickle#tickle fic#ramshackle#sfw tickles
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bedtime cuddles
member — seungcheol x gn reader
genre — fluff
word count — 660
warnings — none
notes — this is the first thing i ever wrote for this blog and it's been sitting in my google drive for a long time so i decided to post it finally. since this is the third "bedtime" drabble i've posted, i'm considering making a mini series so please leave your thoughts on that so i know if that's something people would like. enjoy!
note #2 — inspired by this 2018 ttt video!
one reblog = one really good hot shower
the bathroom is foggy when you turn off the shower, the mirror steamed up from the warmth of the water. the rhythmic whir of the overhead fan fills the silence as you wrap a towel around your head, wringing a little bit of the water from your hair. stepping out of the bathroom, you wander down the hallway, peeking into each room, looking for your boyfriend.
"baby?" you call out through the house. a soft, mumbled shout comes from down the hall in reply, and you smile, heading back into the bathroom.
after giving your hair one last shake, you hang the wet towel up, flicking off the fan and the light as you leave. walking into the next room, you find seungcheol in the darkened living area laying on the mattress on the floor, illuminated by the light of the tv.
you stand behind him for a moment, watching him as he lays unmoving on his side, a pillow tucked behind his head. his face is relaxed, lips barely parted, watching the program on the tv through half-lidded eyes. dark hair is strewn across the pillow, already matted, and you hold back a laugh, knowing how much of a mess it'll be when he wakes up tomorrow. but over the years you've come to love his tousled morning look; despite his shy complaints, his wild hair and puffy cheeks are one of the best part of your mornings.
the quilted blanket spread over him is one you made him for christmas or a birthday, you can't remember which. he's used it so much it's starting to wear out, and you make a mental note to make him another for your upcoming anniversary. maybe you can come up with something cute with little pieces of fabric from the places you’ve been together– it’s too late tonight, though, you’ll figure it out in the morning.
hearing you enter the room, he shifts from his curled position and tilts his head back to look behind him.
"hey," he says with a quiet chuckle, his features softening into a smile when he sees you. "feel better now after a shower?"
"mhm." you grin in the darkness and crouch down, claiming your spot next to him on the floor. his phone is plugged into the small tv at your feet, a reality show playing quietly on the screen. "what're you watching?"
he lifts his arm to throw the blanket over you before turning back to the tv. "dunno. something to fall asleep to. i paid for it on my phone."
you scoot closer, cuddling up behind him and gently putting your arm around him. "today was nice," you whisper. "really nice."
he turns his head to the side to face you, giving you a lazy smile. "yeah." he moves his arm on top of yours, rubbing his thumb along your wrist. his voice is warm and already thick with sleep, and you close your eyes, exhaling softly.
there's so much more you could say about your vacation today, but neither of you wants to disrupt the comfortable nighttime silence that has begun to settle over the rented house as sleep slowly starts to creep in on you. the unspoken words show in every gentle touch as you lie next to each other, relaxing in the moment you have together.
"i love you, cheollie," you whisper after a while. minutes have passed, and you're not even sure if he's still awake, but as you snuggle your face into his neck, the faint smell of his body wash lingering in your nose, you know you've never meant any words more than those.
"love you, too, baby," he whispers back a second later, and you lean closer to press the gentlest of kisses to the patch of skin below his ear. soon you hear his breathing even, and quiet snores fill the room. not long after you drift off too, a hint of a smile on both your faces.
drabble taglist | @foxdaisy @tinkerbell460 @just-here-to-read-01 @ny0sang @noraehey @squiishymeow @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @tenn87 @raevyng @odetoyeonjun @dkakapizzaboy @enhacolor @highkey-fangirling @baldi-2 @onlymingyus @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @potatofrieswithketchup @skzzooyaaa @stariightjoyy @pluviophile-xxx @strawberri-uyu @tigermoonbiss @emmmm127 @hybe02z @sstarrysshit @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @yourfavoritefreakyhan @enha-choo @matilde111
also tagging @duhnova for funsies
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"Park date." — Sam Monroe.
— CW: 18+, smut. Voyeurism. | Word count: 0.7k (not proofread!)
— List of films! | Taglist.
— a/n: Yesterday's fic a day later but oh well. Tomorrow I'll catch up <;3.
It was roughly past midnight when he suggested it, and in the beginning, you believed he was joking, because only Sam could joke with such a thing while keeping a poker face. But then he insisted, playing with that damn cigarette in between his lips— demonstrating that he is in fact, very serious about this.
The weather forecast predicted that that night would be cold, so you choose a knee-length floral skirt and one of Sam’s sweaters; the plan was to smoke a join in the park, pass by the 24-hour store for some snacks, and watch a movie at your place… which is basically every Thursday night ever since you started dating him. He had other plans inside his mind apparently, and one of them was seeing you lie down on the blue plastic slide of the park’s playground, lifting up your skirt, and sneaking a hand between your thighs.
“You gotta be quiet” He mumbles, sitting on one of the stairs of the playground, his blue eyes creeping up and down your body while his finger-painted nails pop open the button of his worn-out jeans. “Not a single sound, okay?”
He taps the cigarette with his thumb, lazily pushing his jeans down enough to give you a peek at his boxers. The ashes fall to the gravel getting lost in the grey hue while you follow his previous instructions, circling your clit with your index finger. Sam is usually the one who suggests new things in your sex life, but this feels completely… different. It doesn’t take you long to work yourself up until a wet patch stains the white cotton fabric, gasping every now and then to suppress a moan, keeping your glassy eyes on his hand sliding up and down his hard cock. It seems seeing you masturbate in a public space, in the middle of the night really gets your boyfriend’s engine roar. Between your combined ragged breaths and the occasional soft grunt that falls from his lips, a small, intimate bubble forms around you too. A meter away, the fact that all you can do is watch him watch you is a different form of pleasure.
Your eyes observe every flick of his wrist, memorizing the way he rubs the leaky, swollen tip of his cock with his palm; said action making him hiss and jolt his hips. You know very well how sensitive his cock can be when he is extremely horny— so today is one of those days. Sam keeps a slow pace on himself, giving you a tight nod which is the signal you’ve been waiting for.
Finally, you sigh in relief when your fingers slide inside your awaiting hole, not wasting a single second to match his pace and huff. Your quiet pants and the way your chest rides have Sam hypnotized. He can agree with that thought, even if he doesn’t know what you are thinking. This is unbelievably hot. It’s like nothing else you have tried before, it is both illegal and taboo. Exposing your intimacy in such a dirty way, in a place that is meant for laughs and giggles— triggers his orgasm faster than ever. Sam squeezes the base of his cock, trying to hold back his orgasm as much as his body allows him before it grazes on pain. The erotic feeling that fuels the desires Sam has for you now touches the skies. Unable to stop himself, he stands up not ceasing the stroking of his length, looming next to you.
“Faster,” Sam whispers huskily, his deep voice resembling a pleasurable purr. “I wanna see you come all over this dirty slide.”
Obeying him, you curl your fingers, using your other hand to circle your clit. Whining his name, he hushes you, fisting himself harder, faster— his hand grasping your jaw in a painful grip. “Shut up. Or do you want someone to walk by and see the town’s slut?”
It’s a very hypothetical case, at this hour it would be very unlikely for someone to casually take a walk, or to go to a part in that case. Instead of giving you a chance to respond, he clasps his sweaty palm over your mouth, muffling your moans and pleas while he watches your body shiver and convulse which triggers his own orgasm and causes him to spill his load all over your lower body, staining your skirt and the fabric of your panties.
Sam kisses your forehead, using his green shirt to wipe his cum off your skin. He can’t believe you agreed to do such a thing with him.
And you both know it will only get worse from here.
🌊Taglist!: @haydensgirlaela | @captain-satan | @lovrsm | @alixwriter | @bimbo-baggins86 | @jellydodger | @valsarchives | @grimkaos | @daniiileee | @dianaaxoxo | @arzua10 | @seistars
— 🐚 if you wish you be added to my taglist there's a google forms in the beginning of the post! There you can select which days you would like to be tagged in (or choose the option: all the above!). If you send me a DM or an ask I will tag you on every day! | some tags might not work due to your settings, so let me know!
#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 kinktober 2023!#sam monroe#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe smut#sam monroe x reader smut#sam monroe x you#sam monroe x y/n#life as a house
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Can You Fix It? ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales
Summary: “See, I was on my skateboard and…yeah.”
Warnings:None!
Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @urfavnegronerd @kombuuuu @milesmolasses @luvjunie @n1cole-ghost @conitagray @nagi3seastorm @hiyaitssans
A/N:I just sent this ask to Kombu earlier today and I couldn’t help myself. I saw this Tiktok of this girl making her own clothes and I got inspired :)
This is x gender neutral reader!
“Can you fix it?”
It was both a hobby and a talent you had, working with all things thread. Sewing, embroidery, hemming…it was kind of your thing. It was something you did for fun, but it also managed to bring some ease into your life.
“Yeah, but…what happened?”
You held the hoodie in your hands, sticking your fingers through the hole in the fabric. It was big, right above the elastic. The hoodie was purple with print on the back that said The World Is Yours.
“See, I was on my skateboard and…yeah.”
That was a lie. Miles didn’t even own a skateboard. Truth was, he tripped over thin air while on a walk. People watched. People laughed. Miles was not going to tell you that.
It was convenient, actually. Just after that he went to his uncle’s place to talk all about you, to show him the small embroidery patches you made to cover up smaller holes in another hoodie of his. For an hour, he planned everything he was going to say to you.
“Right..”
You glanced at him. He was biting the inside of his cheek, something he always did around you. Miles pulled at the strings that hung from his backpack’s straps. He rolled them in his fingers.
“Thanks.”
You watched as he rocked on his heels nervously, and you swore he was going to start bleeding from the mouth. It was cute, how nervous he got around you, and painfully obvious.
“I ain’t mean to cause so much trouble,” he mumbled, “but I don’t wanna ask my mom cause she always so busy.”
“Don’t worry about,” you pushed, “it’s all good.”
You smiled at him, and Miles swore all air got knocked from his lungs. It was suddenly very hot in the hallways of Visions academy.
“Thanks,” he said again. And then the bell rang, and the swarm of kids in the hallways dispersed.
“I’ll, uh, see you later,” he stammered, backing up. You gave him a smile, setting the hoodie in your locker before closing it shut.
“Later.”
You smiled at him, and Miles swore all air got knocked from his lungs.
#earth 42 miles fluff#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles morales x you#earth 42 miles x you#miles morales#miles morales x reader#atsv#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#spiderman#x gender neutral reader
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hii!! could you write something where eddie and reader are literally so comfortable with each other that they don’t feel a single ounce of shame around each other like ever?? just lots of love and belonging no matter what<33
shaved my legs today and very much wanted eddie to do it for me so that's what you get!! tw // he accidentally nicks her while shaving
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"Careful!" You chide Eddie' feeling the rough scrape of blade against skin, "You're gonna cut me."
"No I won't," Eddie insists, prying at your fingers where they're wrapped around the back of your thigh, pressing it to your chest, "Move, sweetheart."
You let him nudge your hand out of the way, and he supports your thigh with his own fingers. He makes sure there's enough cream spread over your leg, making quick work of the patch of hair that he hasn't shaved yet.
"See babe? I told you," He speaks too soon, the blade of the razor nicking your skin and letting blood leak from its slit, "I won't- oh shit, I cut you."
"Eddie," You groan, the familiar burning sensation at the curve where your thigh meets your ass, "I told you to be careful!"
"I was," Eddie groans, scrambling for a band-aid in the dingy medicine cabinet, "I swear!"
The razor is dropped unceremoniously into the sink and you can't help but cringe at it's careless placing. You'll lecture him for it later, though, because the pain at the back of your thigh is taking precedent.
Eddie dabs at the wound with the towel draped over the lid of the toilet. It stains the fabric, but it's only a dot. You let him bandage up your injury, and he offers his hand to help you to your feet afterwards, intent on the band-aid staying dry.
"I can shave you standing up," He promises, thumbing away a drop of cream-streaked water as it runs down your thigh, "M'sorry, sweetheart."
"It's fine," You hum, because it really is, it doesn't hurt anymore now that the warm water isn't stinging it like the pain of a needle anymore.
"It'll heal," He promises, leaning down to kiss the superman bandage stuck to your thigh, then the curve of your ass on the way back up, "Now, leg up on the bath, princess, I've gotta get your inner thigh."
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson headcanon#eddie munson one-shot#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson hc#eddie munson hcs#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson dialogue#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader fanfiction
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And many eventful nights to come
Micah Bell x reader
- In which Micah saves you from a "dangerous" situation. The man is smitten. Continuation to Eventful Morning.
Around a week later it was apparent Sean had kept his word. No one seemed to know or whisper about something having happened between you and Micah, and that was for the best. Arthur and John were still calling him names, Javier and Dutch were pretty much indifferent to him. Sean didn't tease him at all, but honestly you doubted anyone noticed, since he was being his old annoying self otherwise.
The day was set to be an exciting one. You and the girls were going to go shopping for new clothes, since a traveling salesman was visiting Valentine, the nearby town.
Atop your trunk near the mirror was your trinket box, in which you also stored some of the money you earned and had put in for safekeeping. This, you decided, was a good occasion to spend some of that money. You needed to buy at least two blouses and an overdress.
"Maybe it wasn't so bad what happened with Mr. Bell at the river after all." You caught yourself mid thought and almost slammed the trinket box shut, the metallic lock clicking shut with a bit too much force.
The feeling of wet fabric sticking to your cold skin, goosebumps traveling down your arms to your sides and onward to your legs. The early morning sun, and his arms...-
his arms holding you up from falling, his eyes all over your body.
"Why is my heart beating so hard?"
Shaking you away from the memory was Tilly calling for your name.
"Come on Y/N! Don't wanna be there too late, all them pretty dresses are going to be gone before we ever even see them!"
You stuffed the dollars to your pouch you carried with you, glancing at your gunbelt on the cot, taking a second to think.
"Whatever, there'll be many of us going', doubt i'll need that." Stomping out of the tent you made your way through the camp, past the fire pit and common area and grabbed Karen's outstretched hand, helping yourself onto the carriage.
Green fields upon green fields, a country road, not a cloud in the sky. The vast wide landscape shaping into mountains in the horizon, a couple of lush thickets here and there. Oh how you loved spring.
Upon arriving in Valentine you jumped down first, your bootheels sinking into the trampled upon mud. You corrected the hem of your red corduroy dress, helping Tilly and Karen down to the ground. Arthur and John who had been driving the carriage walked over, and bid their adieus after you all agreed to meet back at the same spot after an hour. You and the girls headed straight down the main street toward the vendor, who had set up shop on the vacant spot close to the sheriff's office.
Building after building were equipped with porches on stilts, to stop some of the mud from entering the interior perhaps, you thought. A couple of men passed out drunk by the saloon, and old woman smoking in front of the convenience store. On the opposite side of the street a motel, nice enough, and in front of it a gang of younger looking men.
You smiled to yourself, as one of them shot a look toward Karen. Always the looker.
With a skip in your step you took both the girls by their arms, smiling and laughing together.
Lifting the canvas to get into this tent was not necessary. The vendor had set up an open tent with tables filled with blouses, dresses, trousers and shoes of all different kinds. The vendor himself a lean dark skinned man with a thin moustache.
"Welcome, welcome, my ladies. What could I help you with today? A new dress, perhaps an embroidered blouse? The catalogue is large."
After deciding on some items, a red fabric caught your attention. Hidden beneath other clothes, you gently moved them away to uncover a bright vermilion blouse. Made from sturdy cotton and with patch-reinforced elbows, the shirt was undoubtedly of high quality. "How much for this one?" You asked, turning toward the shopkeeper.
"For you my dear, I will give a discount!" Pressing his hands together, closing his eyes: "Thirty and five dollars."
"Oh, I see, a bit too much then." You squeezed your hand around the pouch in your pocket, only containing a five dollar bill after splurging on the two blouses, overdress and new trousers you held on your other arm.
"Here." A grunt from behind you, and a man's arm placed bank notes and coins on the shopkeeper's outstretched hand. Looking pleased, the vendor offered the shirt, your eyes following the red of the fabric only to meet up with more red.
"Mr. Bell, please!" You huffed. "You have to stop scaring me like this!" Your complaints met with a smirk and a wink from under the rim of his dirty cowboy hat.
All of a sudden, a bang rang out, and women started screaming. Your eyes searched for the source of the scream, hands feeling for your trusty revolver, only to be met with air. "Fuck," you cursed after remembering you had decided to leave it in the camp.
"Eek!" A strong arm pulled you close and lifted you up on horseback. Micah stepped up on his horse's saddle, already swinging the reins for speed. "Hold on darlin'!" "You don't have to tell me twice!" Your arms hugging him tightly to keep yourself on Baylock. You caught a glimpse of Arthur tackling a guy to the ground while John was helping Karen up.
"Micah! We have to go help them!" Not turning around he slowed down until Baylock maintained a steady gait. Bringing the speed to a stop he jumped off, holding a hand out to you. You ascended as gracefully as one could, not taking his hand.
"Respectfully, Mic- Mr. Bell, you cannot keep doing this. Creeping up on me and causing me heart palpitations and awkward situations!"You huffed, red cheeked and arms crossed under your chest.
"Ya seem to like it, though, judging by the blush on yor cheeks."
"I- I don't know!" You blurted.
"Let me take ya out darlin'." Seeing your the doubting look in your eyes, he continued: "Nothin' weird, I swear."
Was this too good to be true? Sure, his methods of getting your attention were unorthodox but he wasn't exactly the most normal guy in the world. Glancing up at his eyes, shifting your weight to your right leg, you answered.
"Sure, Mr. Bell. Why not."
The seconds of uneasiness in his eyes turned into a few seconds of joy, and quickly back into his usual cocky self.
"Ya ain't gonna regret it. Quit the Mr. Bell bullshit though, call me Micah."
You nodded, and he motioned for you to get back onto the horse. You climbed up, yelping in the process after a palm made it's way firmly onto your rear, slapping and squeezing it. "Micah!"
"Ya like it, girl, quit yappin'."
Your arrival to the camp wasn't the quietest. Arthur yelling at Micah to swear he hadn't corrupted you, the girls calling him a dirty old man, and you just walking to your tent, giving Micah a joking smile and a wink from the doorway. His eyes looking past everyone questioning him and his motives, a sneaky smile spreading across his lips, a plan forming in his head.
Now there was a goal. He stuffed the new red shirt into his jacket and pushed past the people. He sat next to the fire and put his legs up, lighting a cigarette, angling himself so that he had a clear view of your tent.
And with everybody else gone to sleep, he downed the rest of his beer, saluting himself. "For an eventful night, and for many eventful nights to come." He got up, heading toward that tent with the light on with his signature smirk on his face.
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