merz-8 - Tumblr blog

[merz-8]

me waiting for next time

an Ezra & Cricket One Shot: Brass Knuckled Debauchee Summary: Ezra, after abusing your healing talents, returns to make good on his debt... for a price.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 4,752

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), weight gain, eating, edging, soft!dom Ezra being an overall ass, teasing, begging, crying, malfunctioning prosthetic limb, the occasional swear

Author's Notes: requested by two (count'em - 2!) lovely babes for the 900 Friendo Celebration - thank you to @xdaddysprincessxx and @morallyinept for bringing Ezra some love.

Huge thank you to @strang3lov3 , @noxturnalpascal & @bitchesuntitled for their beta badass skills and to my ever lovely beta fish, @neverwheremoonchild. None of you will understand the depths of gratitude I hold you all in.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

You’d cared for him when his appendage was newly parted from his person, after a young woman dumped him off at your meagre midwife’s centre.  

You hadn’t delivered a baby in at least eight cycles, but you were busy tending to broken bones and crushed limbs from the mine nearby, so the idea of caring for a wound caused by a missing arm wasn’t far from your everyday.  

What was far from the standard men in your care was that this one wouldn’t shut up. Truly. You’d never met someone so close to death spew such a narrative. You almost wished to have him out of his misery just to stop his linguistic vomit.  

Thank Kevva for sedatives.  

You didn’t even want to know his name, worried that if you had his, he’d need yours and there was no way someone this sick and wounded that could carry on like he’s memorized a thesaurus wasn’t capable of performing a hex or a curse on you. 

After three blessedly quiet and devoid-of-narration days, the open wound where his arm once hung from was no longer festering and the fever that wracked his body broke. Despite your own desire to keep him silent, you stopped administering such a high dose of the sedative, and you allowed him to regain consciousness.  

For the first little while, all you heard was his steady, deep breathing, so you left the room to grab some water and liquified sustenance for him, figuring that when he would finally come to, he’d be hungry. 

“To what do… do I owe the pleasure?”, you heard croaked as you walked softly back into the room.  

“Oh good…”, you replied flatly. “You’re awake and talking.” 

The remainder of his stay that time had revolved around you doing what you could to keep his mouth occupied enough to keep it quiet; you fed him. By the time he’d left, he’d made you aware of his name – Ezra – and bestowed a nickname on you for lack of giving your own. Cricket. He then made the terrible promise to return to see you and left with a wink and a smile.  

Your whole body bristled at the thought of having to deal with him again. 

***** 

The first return visit he made, his confidence and vocabulary were still obnoxiously inflated. Whining of a bruised rib, you resumed your frustrated feeding to keep him down to two to three sentences and responses between mouthfuls.  

The second time he returned, he stated that he had been ‘brutalized by a deviant, one who you should not even be told of his true form else your fragile and virtuous mind be stained’. There wasn’t a single mark on him, save for a bite on his only arm that looked to be self-inflicted. He enjoyed himself, smiling between bites of food. 

By the third visit – complaining of a sprained toe - you knew that he knew that you knew what you were doing - and vice versa. Despite this, you fed him, and he ate very well. After several days of ‘healing’, he hauled himself up and it was then that you noted his flight suit looking like it was getting tighter around his middle.  

Those visits happened in a fairly rapid succession, but a longer period – more than six cycles at least - lapsed before he darkened your doorway and approached your desk once again. Without even looking up, you knew it was him, having heard his cavalier long-form salutations being crooned out at anyone he passed approaching your unit. 

“What now?”, you sighed in irritation, dropping your head into your hand, not bothering to look up at him – something you would come to regret to save yourself future embarrassment. You didn’t see him close your door and lock it behind him.  

He approached your desk, and his hand came into view along with a mechanical one; the smooth-as-silk tongued devil was now outfitted with a prosthetic arm that looked like it had been stolen from a brass skeleton and had gears added. Your eyes followed the mechanical limb up to the hem of his shortened sleeve, hiding the joint between it and what remained of his actual arm. The new colour of his clothing caught your attention, too, pulling your eyes to his torso. Yes, it was definitely a different colour. He was no longer in the moss greens and soil browns you’d associated with him. Now, he was in a dark blue flight suit with a gold zipper that looked to just be barely holding together.  

Your brain paused to take in what was in front of you.  

“No more chirps for me, sweet Cricket?” 

His raspy, southern drawl sounded sweeter than you’d noticed before as your eyes took in the added weight on his middle. Before looking up to his face, you noted the way the zipper rippled from the strain and the clear indent his belly button made as the fabric pulled taut across his expanse.  

His face. As soon as you took it in, you regretted not doing it first. He’s held you in his big brown eyes’ gaze before, but you’d been able to avoid being trapped. But this time you couldn’t help but let them absorb you. His smile widened as he slightly leaned forward, arms putting further weight on your desk.  

“You seem at a loss for word, Crick-“ 

“You’ve been eating well.”, you managed to croak out in a somewhat aloof-sounding voice, nodding towards his middle.  

He didn’t shrink back at your comment; instead, it seemed to embolden him.  “You started me on a path of decadence that a mere man such as myself isn’t able to easily shake.” 

He stood to his full height, eyes never leaving yours. “Is that all you noticed?”, he grinned, lifting his brass appendage, bringing the crude and simple brass hand to his face, smoothing over his moustache.  

Your lips parted then closed and parted again before you were able to spit out, “I saw y-… I see you got a new… limb.” 

His eyes gleamed at you, seeing his every move had you further in his grasp. You inwardly scowled, chiding yourself on how quickly you were falling under his spell. Narrowing your eyes, you shrugged at him. 

“Looks old.” 

If it stung him, he didn’t show it; he simply kept that smile on his face and continued to look down at you from across the desk. “I’m not its first owner.” 

The pleasantries had only lasted a few more moments before Ezra moved around your desk and hovered over you. 

“I’m here to return the favour, Cricket.” 

“...Favour?” 

“For all the hard work you put into bringing me back to my full health.”, he cooed lowly as his brass hand cooled your cheek with its feather-light touch.  

“It’s nothing... I was just doing my j - “ 

He leaned over you further, cheshire grin pulled menacingly across his face. His voice slipped into a lower pitch and his eyes darted from your eyes to your mouth.  

“Doing your job would have been to send me away when I appeared with erroneous and fabricated injuries and illnesses. You, my sweet Cricket, stepped over and above the threshold of your employment and I intend to repay you for your sweetness in full.” 

You sucked in a few shallow breaths and nervously swallowed. This was a side of him you hadn't seen, assuming that he was a submissive and pliant brat who’d chosen you to dote on him. But no. There was no favour he intended to pay back. He was just sizing you up and wrangling you into his web, and now he was out loud declaring that you were his prey. His eyes were dark and fixed on you, in contrast with the gentle smile on his face.  

“Don’t be nervous, sweet Cricket. You can tend to your own wounds afterwards. Now, let me hear you chirp.” 

His brass arm shot out and gripped your wrist tightly and he pulled you from your seat. Dragging you to the maternity room, he tossed you onto the low soft bed.  

“Ezra!”, you squeaked as your body hit the push mattress below you.  

He dropped to his knees and crawled up, forcing your legs apart, and his belly barely grazed your middle as his face lined up with yours. You let out an involuntary whimper. 

“Oh, sweet Cricket. How badly I wanted you on your back, making those sweet vocalizations your namesake promised me.” 

His flesh and bone hand gently grazed your face and moved to the back of your head, softly fisting your hair, forcing your head to stay still as he traced his nose along the contours of your face. His eyes remained half lidded and he watched as your own rolled back when he pushed his knee into the crux of your thighs, knowing he had all but your verbal consent.  

“This is all you need, sweet Cricket? Someone to light the way?” 

All you can muster as his hold on your hair tightened and his knee applied more pressure was a light whine through your parted lips.  

You wanted to respond, but the moment you opened your mouth, Ezra’s brass arm made a clunk sound and began to shudder.  

“Oh, for Kevva’s sake.”, he muttered, sitting up on his knees as he examined the arm. It made a mechanical sound before it shuddered again, then a higher pitched noise droned as the arm vibrated.  

You watched him sitting between your parted legs as the realization of what he had at his disposal dawned on him. Your eyes widened as he turned and looked at you like a starved man with a wild grin.  

“Sweet Cricket, I think I could go for a bite to eat.” 

***** 

Once you’d gotten some finger foods together and brought them back into the room, you found Ezra laid back in a mountain of pillows on the bed. He nodded his head towards you and raised his hand, beckoning you to him.  

“Come on, Cricket. Tend to your weary traveller.” 

His eyes were glued to you, cascading up and down your form, as you hand fed him. He’d had a few pieces of the savoury pastries when you felt the cool touch of his brass hand slide between your thighs.  

“Curious...”, he mused as he chewed. “… that when I make a certain motion with my appendage, it malfunctions in such an amusing manner that I know you will find benefit in, pet.” 

Your brows furrow in question and before you can ask how that could benefit you in any way, the arm made that clunk sound again. You felt the vibration between your thighs and your eyes widened.  

“Ez – oh fuck!”, you gasped as he pushed his knuckle up against your mound and held it there firmly. 

Your mouth was open, allowing shallow panting breaths to puff out and your eyes were closed with your brows pinched as the shuddering vibrations pulsed against you. You’d never felt anything like this before in your life and you thanked Kevva.  

The low amber tones of his voice cut through to you and pulled you out of your silent prayer. “Now, sweet Cricket. We are both here to derive enjoyment from one another given we both now have the intel on each other’s vices. You can’t go holding out on me to seek your fruition – that is not fair.” 

He pulled his hand from contacting your core, and your eyes snapped to his, a pleading whimper bubbling out from your pouting lips.  

“Uh-uh, Cricket. We will play fair.”, he growled in warning. His smile dropped as his features darkened, and he nodded towards your suspended hand holding a small meat-filled pastry. “Don’t you dare hold out on me.” 

Shakily, you brought the morsel to his mouth and as he took it in and let his tongue touch your finger, his hand once again pressed against your core. 

***** 

Ezra had continued to eat and finished over half of platter. But every time you started to get close to your peak, he would pull his hand away, leaving you a shaking mess. 

“P-please… Ezra, please!”, you begged mere seconds away from ecstasy.  

“I am not finished, sweet Cricket.”, he said with a mouthful. “You will be sated when I have found my fill, and we are not yet there.” 

You could have screamed at him, strangled him in a rage. “Ezra please! I - ”. 

The warning look he gave you stopped any further pleading. Your mind reeled, trying to find some way to get relief. You could kick him out and try to finish yourself off with your fingers, but you knew it would be fruitless; you’d never gotten this worked up on your own before and you doubt that you had anything in this clinic that vibrated at that frequency.  

As you trembled and panted, Ezra watched, amused at how clearly you were seeking a solution to the problem he’d created for you.  

“Cricket…”, he cooed, soothing his biological hand up your arm and to your face. He gently guided your chin towards him. “Sweet Cricket, come back to me.” 

When your frantic gaze met his, his eyes softened and creased as he smiled. “I will not leave you unfinished. I repay my debts, darling nurse.” 

You sighed in defeat, nodded, and took a deep breath. Your eyes trailed down to his noticeably rounder middle that made the already strained zipper pull at the seams of the fabric. He shifted in what looked like discomfort.  

You put down the current half-filled plate of food and reached for the zipper tag, tugging it down. It only got to the beginning of the swell of his belly before you met resistance. You tugged a little harder, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Suck it in.” 

“Now, Cricket, let’s not be hast-“ 

“I said suck it in.”, you snapped back far more forcefully than intended.  

Ezra froze then nodded. “Sweet girl, I will try, but…”  You saw his middle pull in slightly. “… the profound conundrum I experienced in getting it on…” 

The zipper finally moved, and he groaned as his stomach expanded. “Sweet Kevva… such relief.” 

You were desperate for him to touch you again, but seeing him fat and swollen before you, knowing it was your work that was filling him out. Ezra watched your gaze turn hungry and almost feral. Granted, he felt that way as he watched you teeter on the edge of falling apart over and over. He wasn’t ready to let the power he held over you go, giving him the drive to get through, bite by bite. But that power began to slip the moment his vulnerable and considerably rounder middle exposed, and it left him feeling uneasy and unsure. 

“A change of flavour… is needed, my sweet Cricket.”, Ezra crooned, trying to exude as much confidence he could muster, despite his self-consciousness lingering in the back of his mind. He swallowed down a moan as your blown-pupiled eyes met his. He pushed a faux-confident smile and spoke softer. “Something sweeter, perhaps?” 

Letting a small huff escape, you nodded and got up from the bed, cursing him under your breath for having this much power over you. 

As you stood in the small kitchen area, waiting for the food rehydrator to loudly prepare the freeze-dried baked goods, you didn’t hear Ezra huff and grunt as he got off the bed and saunter into the kitchen. You weren’t alerted to his presence until his belly hit your back and his brass hand went to your hip.  

His nose and mouth pressed against the back of your neck, whispering filth as his hand cupped your breast and squeezed. 

“You leave yourself so vulnerable, sweet Cricket... back to the door, not an ounce of concern…. any rapscallion of low morals could take advantage… of your sweet, supple figure…” 

You let out a light, breathy whine gripping his hand as he kneaded your breast. As much as you wanted his hands on you, you wanted his mouth on your own more, so you pushed your body back against his, making enough room between him and the counter for you to turn around. His brass hand stayed on the curve of your waist, not offering any resistance, and his other hand cupped your cheek, holding it in place while he kissed you softly. His lips moved against yours like he was able to read your mind, or maybe even needed this point of contact as badly as you did. His mouth parted and his tongue pushed for entrance into your mouth, and once it was granted, the kiss fevered and boiled over. You felt your core throb with need and want, soaking your pants and already ruined underwear, and he crowded you against the counter. So wrapped up were you in his mouth and teeth and tongue, that you didn’t feel his brass hand move from your waist. 

In one swift move, Ezra shoved your pants down in the front enough for his brass hand to slip with no barrier into your folds. The cool touch you would have expected from it was long forgotten as the metal now met your body temperature. Still engulfed in the kiss that was beginning to rob your breath, the telltale clunk barely registered in your mind until the vibrations started. Sending a jolt through your body, you pulled your face away from his and let out a shrill gasp.  

The timer on the rehydrator went off, and Ezra chuckled darkly, watching your brows draw together and your eyes flutter.  

“The rules stay the same, Cricket. Sweet or savoury, I will have my fill and you will have your petite mort. But one will meet the other at the same time.”, he said in a wickedly soft tenor. “Now, you can begin holding up your end, sweet girl.” 

Once again, Ezra ripped away any power you might have had or believed you had, edging you with each bite, withholding his metal hand’s vibrations from the moment his mouth was empty to the moment your hand shakily pushed another bite past his lips. Overstimulation mixed with the pent-up fury of being denied an orgasm had you panting rapidly, tears threatening to spill over. High pitched whines and shuddering whimpers were all you could produce, and it was music to Ezra’s ears.  

“You… create the most… glorious cricket song…”, he mused softly as he chewed the mouthful. “Keep chirping, sweet girl…” 

You were coming to a point where you weren’t sure you would make it. Your brain felt like it was filled with the static from a communicator’s blank channel and your hearing and sight felt fuzzy. The coil tightening in your cunt was hitting a painful level, causing you to drop the next pastry you’d picked up with your shaking hands. 

As soon as it hit the floor, Ezra tsk’d you, and pulled his hand right out of your pants. The pained sob that burst from you from the loss of contact was loud and harsh, and the tears finally spilled over, staining your cheeks.  

“P-please… I… I can’t!”, you cried out, jutting your hand out clumsily to grab his wrist as he pulled back. His dark eyes scanned your desperate ones, pausing momentarily, before his gaze shifted to one of pity and amusement. 

“You can’t what?”, he mocked with a cruel grin. “Can’t what, sweet Cricket?” 

A rasped and pained whine peeled out of your throat as your head fell to his shoulder, and his hand gripped your hair and pulled back, forcing you to look at him. You looked ruined. Your cheeks flushed and eyes wet and lidded, your lips parted, turned down and chin quivering. He shoved up back and up onto the counter. 

“Oh, come now, sweet Cricket. Don’t look at me like I won’t give you your due.”, he whispered, ghosting his mouth over yours. His brass fingers traced lurid shapes along your inner thighs, causing your body to shiver and that coil painfully wind up in your core once more.  

“I asked you for something sweeter, pet,”, Ezra mockingly cooed as he pulled back, your face involuntarily following his to try and capture his lips against yours. He shook his head, smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “Something sweeter and you dropped it on the floor. It’s precious currency, Cricket, and you mishandled it.” 

Your eyes followed his, stuck in the trance he’d put you under. He could have told you to do anything, given any order and you would have obeyed to your detriment. His brass hand moved to your throat, long, metal fingers grasping just tight enough to keep you precariously seated on the edge of the counter. His thicker middle forced you legs open wide, and his other hand took its place between your legs and without warning, he shoved two fingers into your core.  

Your mouth and eyes widened as a wrecked gasp escaped you and your hands went to grab onto what ever meaty part of him you could grab for stability. Ezra hummed in response as the pads of his fingers felt the walls of your cannel twitch and flutter at his intrusion. 

“Good Kevva, sweet girl…”, he groaned, watching your face contort. “As much as this contraption of a limb can bring me such sadistic joy at your expense, my own digits needed to feel the silken walls of your inner sanctum.” 

As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, he dropped his forehead against yours and hummed again, answering your repeated whining pants and moans.  

“Keep chirping, Cricket… sing me your evening song… that’s it….”  

As you felt your peak come careening in, he felt your walls convulse and slicken up. The soft tenor he’s just lulled you into a steady rhythm with fell away and the low chuckle followed by his fingers being removed made you scream out and dig your nails into the fattened flesh of his upper arm and shoulder. 

“EZ-EZRA! PLEASE! FUCK-PLEASE!”, you sobbed out in a shriek.  

His brass hand’s hold tightened around your throat, and he shoved your shoulders flush with the wall behind counter roughly.  

Your desperate eyes looked him over as best as you could, given the position he had you in. His bloated and full stomach moved with each laboured breath he took and the strain he put himself under to wreck you was fully apparent. You could feel the outline of his clothed hard cock seated against your thigh and the sweat beading on his forehead. He wiped his face and parted his lips to take in deeper breaths; his irises were indiscernible from his pupils as he looked down at you. 

You had never known need like this, and you felt as though you were going to succumb due to your lack of orgasm as a final line in the life that Kevva had written for you. 

“P…please…” 

“Is it my cock you want to be impaled on, pet? You want to whine and mewl while I rut my quiver bone into your sopping celestial cavern?”, he coolly growled, but there was a slight waiver in his voice. You saw the same desperation in the dark abyss of his eyes. 

You nodded dumbly and he scowled, baring his teeth, and tore his brass hand off you, trying to make quick work of getting his flight suit off his shoulders. The arms were tight around his fleshy arms, and you shakily sat up and tried to help. Once his arms were free, you tugged the material over his waist, taking note of the roll of flesh sitting just above his waistband, showing just how much he had been indulging. You gave it a squeeze, revelling in the sound he made, sucking his breath thru his teeth at your fingers.  

“Marvel the fruits of your labour, Cricket… The destination you set me on course to has made me beyond redemption and unfit for galactic adventuring…”, he grunted breathily, shoving his flight suit off his legs before kicking it off entirely. “You have effectively rendered me useless beyond what effect I am able to wield on you.” 

He shoved his mouth against yours before you could respond or ask what he meant, sucking you into a bruising kiss. His hands gripped your hips, pulling your twitching cunt flush with his weeping, hard cock, knocking the plastic plate that held the desserts onto the floor at his feet. Fumbling slightly, he pulled back and gripped his member, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing it in all at once. The sting of his intrusion melded perfectly with the relief of finally connecting, and the sound you made caused Ezra to almost break. His eyes softened and his brows tented, body tense at the gentle yet firm, warm hold you had on him.   

“I’m af-afraid I’ve pushed too far to allow for… for niceties and gentle welcomes, sweet Cricket…”, he panted against your face, teeth clenched as he tried to focus and draw this out as long as possible.  

“Please move...”, you begged in a strained whine.  

“If I move to fast, sweet Cricket, I will... end this fortuitous connection with an... an early release, and that would render me- fuck!... render me less than a gentleman...” 

“You’re no gentleman... now shut up an-and fuck me!” 

It seemed that your tight walls and frantic begging were too much for Ezra, and he pulled out with a grunt, followed by a whine as he came onto the plate on the floor. The vulgar sounds of his panting breaths mixed with the sploot of his spend had you seeing red. 

“You asshole!”, you screeched, shoving him off you.  

He panted and held his hands up in surrender as you charged at him. 

“Cricket... forgive me! You’re too sweet... your sacred cavern was too - “ 

The slap you landed across his face stopped his fancy wordplay. “You fucking bastard!” 

Ezra’s eyes flashed in anger, and he stood to his full height, towering over you.  

“That was uncalled for, Cricket.”, he snarled. “I will take the wrath of meeting an end without you by my side, but I will not allow you to besmirch my good mother with a question of my paternal lineage.” 

You stared at him, eyes wide with anger at his audacity, and before you could say another word, he tackled you to the floor. You tried to fight him off but the moment you heard the clunk of his brass arm and felt two metal fingers punch up into your slick heat, you ceased your struggle.  

“See, sweet Cricket? I may be a wayward traveler, but even I know the dangers of leaving a woman on the precipice of completion... “ 

“Don’t stop... please... don’t stop...”  

The vibrations of his arm and the smooth curves of the worn metal fingers found a rhythm that had you seeing stars.  

“I plan to keep demanding your company each time I move through this sector, and-” 

“Oh Kevva... Ez-Ezra!” 

He leaned forward and ghosted his mouth over yours, speaking in a low, husky growl, “... if I were to fail you now, what kind of welcome would I receive the next time I darken your doorway?” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull and your body arched off the floor. Pent up energy burst from your burning cunt, sending wave after wave of precious release through your body. The scream that peeled out of you was dampened by Ezra kissing you forcefully. 

His movement slowed and he slowly pulled his brass hand from your core. You were greeted with his grin as he looked over his brass hand. 

“You’ve polished only two fingers for me... there are three more.”, he cooed, placing a delicate kiss on the end of your nose. “Next time.” 

“N-next time?” 

He nodded and stood up with a grunt. You sat up carefully, and it seemed you both took note of the plate on the floor, covered in his cum. The chastisement was on your tongue, but never became words out loud as you were struck speechless as you watched him pick up the plate and fling it out the window.  

He turned back to you, standing naked in the kitchen, fat and sweaty, with a grin on his face.  

“There is always a next time, Cricket.” 

[merz-8]

poorly made art

[merz-8]

This was funny and hot 🥵😋 I love when he calls her "kiddo". Also this is how I picture him when he mocks her 😂🩷

Play Stupid Games

Summary - Who woulda thought you could make Joel come by playing with his nipples? NOT ME!! (3.6k words)

Tags - implied age gap as Joel calls reader kiddo, Joel Miller Nipple Worship, almost sub!joel, for like 8 seconds max, sub to softdom!joel, unprotected Piv, nipple orgasm, premature ejaculation, come eating, thigh riding, fingering, Joel talks you through it. A/N - this ended up being something between a drabble and a fic. I don’t know what this is. God spoke to me and I listened.

Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal for cleaning this mess up, thank you @beefrobeefcal @tightjeansjavi and @joelsgreys for the encouragement I needed to finish this!

Joel’s sheets are scratchy yet soft, his walls are illuminated by the flickering light of his burning candles. Joel’s naked under his blankets, your naked body tangled up with his. Your head rests on his chest and you draw lazy patterns with your fingers on his soft, pillowy tummy as Joel reads Stephen King’s The Shining to you, turning the pages when he asks you to. This is your evening routine with him, and you’ll never tire of it. Sex first, then a shared shower, where Joel washes your hair and you wash his. He dries you off, then you go back to bed to snuggle and read a book together. You giggle at the way he always wears his glasses too far down his nose, and he lightly drags his nails along your scalp. His clean and masculine scent takes over your senses and that low, gravelly tone of his voice as he reads aloud to you usually puts you to sleep in no more than twenty minutes. 

“Turn the page for me, hon,” Joel asks.

You’re not so tired tonight. You’re watching Joel’s chest rise and fall, lost in your own world and not really paying attention to his reading. Instead, you’re watching his skin erupt in goosebumps as you trace his chest, toying with his sparse chest hair, lightly teasing his nipples, they’re a dark sort of mauve-brown color. Joel’s breath hitches as they pebble beneath your touch. 

He bounces his book lightly on the crown of your head. “You with me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Of course.”

“Mm,” Joel mumbles, not convinced. And he’s right to not believe you. You’re grinding against his thigh subtly, but not subtle enough for Joel to not notice. He smirks as you reach between his thighs, first cupping his balls and then playing with his cock, feeling him begin to thicken in your palm. “Ohh,” Joel grins, “That’s why you’re not listening.”

“I’m listening,” you reply, stroking his cock. It’s always such a satisfying feeling, running your thumb along the thickness of his head, feeling him twitch and grow harder. 

“Are ya? What’s happening right now?”

“Wendy…”

“Wrong,” he interrupts, “Try again.”

“Jack–”

“Danny,” Joel corrects, “What’s Danny doin’?” You don’t know the answer to that question, of course you don’t. Because you’re too distracted by what’s happening in your hand. “Exactly,” Joel says. He sets his book down on his stomach, the pages split to mark his place. He reaches under the covers and wraps his hand around your wrist, halting your movements. “You wore me out tonight, kiddo. I don’t have it in me to go again.”

It’s true, you did wear Joel out. It had been a few days since you’d last had him, and you were missing him dearly. Joel was gone all day, and you’d watched all three Indiana Jones movies, which didn’t help your case in the least. Fuck it, you might even be ovulating. You’re not exactly keeping track. Whoops.

You practically tackled him when he walked through the door. Dinner was made and the table set, but it remained untouched as you let Joel know just how much you missed him. Scrambling to unbuckle his belt, you walked him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he sat down. You wasted no time shimmying off your pants and pulling his own halfway down his thighs. He guided you to straddle his lap, his already rock-hard cock held loosely between his fingers.

Usually he’ll tease you a bit, make you beg and ache and cry for it as he drags his tip through your folds, toy with your clit for a moment before notching himself at your entrance. Today, upon realizing the severity of your need for him, he pulled your hips down on his cock, burying himself in you entirely. He let you adjust to him, feel the stretch and the ache of him inside you. No fingers to warm you up, no tongue, he simply gave all of himself to you. 

Once adjusted, he began to roll his hips, grunting in your ear as you moaned sweetly in his own. That patch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, how his thick cock hit all of your sweetest spots with each of his deep, sloppy, and quick thrusts. He was relentless, just how you needed him. As he fucked you, he slid his hands up the softness of your tummy and your rib cage, then cupped your breasts, flicking and twisting your nipples with his fingertips. 

Per your wishes, Joel had brought you to the edge and pushed you over it multiple times by the time it was all said and done. You came on his cock once and begged him to let you come once more, and then one more time after that before he finally let himself go. By the time you’d finished, the sun had gone down and dinner had gottencold. It could’ve been hours, and Joel was spent. He could hardly keep his eyes open in the shower, swaying back and forth as he flirted with the idea of falling asleep under the warm water running down his shoulders. 

-

“I’ll do all the work, Joel,” you offer as you squeeze his cock. “I just need you for a second.” 

“Charming. You lied to me twice just now,” Joel smirks, turning his head to look down at where your head rests on his shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Oh, sure. You just need me for a second, huh? Can I time it?” You bite your cheek to hide your sheepish smile. You see his point, but you weren’t lying, just slightly misrepresenting the truth. “Yeah, and you know what else is a load of bullshit? I’ll do all the work, Joel,” he mocks, putting on his best girl voice and batting his eyelashes. 

You’re definitely not lying about that, though. “It’s true,” you argue, “I’ll–”

“Yeah, right. You ain’t done a lick of hard work in your life. You got me in the palm of your hand and you don’t gotta lift a damn finger to get what you want. Do you?”

You’re not answering that. Instead, holding up your pinkie finger, you swear to Joel, “I promise, I’ll do it all.”

Joel eyes you suspiciously before holding up his pinkie finger as well. You link fingers, kiss your thumb as he kisses his own, then smush them together. “S’a deal now, my darlin’.”

Joel first takes off his glasses, then dog-ears the page of his book to mark his place in the story before he sets both down on his nightstand. He raises his hands in the air as if he’s surrendering to you. You pull down the blankets and straddle him, your already wet pussy grinding against his now fully-hardened cock. You smile mischievously, biting your bottom lip as you pin his wrists to the bed on either side of his head. “Goddamn,” he drawls, “Am I nothin’ but a piece of meat to ya?”

“Mhm,” you reply, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

Joel smiles against your lips, “Alright, sweet girl. Show me what you got,” he mumbles. You pull back and Joel waits patiently, his wrists still pinned under your palm as you decide what you’re gonna do to him. You start first by grinding yourself against his member, garnering an amused smile from him as his tip catches against your clit and you moan. “Very nice,” he praises, “Gimme some more.”

Still grinding on his cock, you kiss his lips again, then down his jaw, down his neck, biting and sucking as you do so. “No marks,” he warns, squeezing your ass. 

“I know, Joel,” you whisper, continuing your trail of kisses down his chest, down his tummy and back up again. You line yourself up with his cock and sink down on him, experimentally licking a nipple at the same time. Joel shivers. You do it again, this time gently teasing his other nipple with your fingers. 

“What are you doin’, kiddo,” Joel murmurs quietly. 

“Nothing, Joel.”

“I think you’re lyin’ again. Think you’re causin’ trouble.”

“I’m taking care of you.”

“I don’t, fuck, I don’t know–” you hum against him, sending vibrations through his skin. You’re grinding on him as you do so, rubbing your clit against that patch of hair at the base of his cock, taking in all of him - the feeling of him inside you, how you’re pulsing around him. His smell, his warm and thick body underneath yours. He’s breathing heavily, little whimpers escaping his mouth as he squeezes your ass and your sides, his fingertips digging into your skin so hard it hurts. He seems almost desperate. 

“Don’t know what, Joel?”

“I don’t - fuck, ohh god, please, please–” Holy fuck, he’s begging, and you didn’t even know he could do that. You’re not sure what he’s begging for - more, less, go, stop. “Why’re you teasin’ me like this, sweetheart, why’re–”

“I’m not doing anything, Joel,” you smile against his skin. You’re trying it all out now, with one of his nipples you’re using your fingers to twist and tease him, feeling him jolt and tremble with your touch. With your mouth, you’re using your tongue - tracing the outline of his areola, swirling your tongue in a spiral to reach his sensitive bud. And then you switch, using your tongue on the nipple previously occupied by your teasing fingertips. 

“Bullshit. You’re—fuuuuuck,” Joel lets out a long groan, his cock twitching inside of you as he squirms underneath you. “I can feel you smirkin’.You’re testin’ my patience. You need, I need, Christ–you’re startin’ something you’re not gonna like finishing.”

He’s warning you that this might be a mistake, but this only fuels your fire. It’s always you who’s squirming and crying and whimpering, begging for god knows what as Joel grins above you, torturing your clit and promising you that it’ll all be okay, that you’re not gonna break. 

You’ve got him reduced to a mess, he’s moaning and whimpering, breathing heavily with his eyes squeezed shut, his brows knit together. You can feel in his touch that he’s conflicted, squeezing you tighter yet itching to push you away. His skin is tingling, his balls tightening as you clench around him, still grinding yourself ever so slightly on his pelvis. You’re making a sloppy mess of his chest with your mouth, all spit covered as you circle his nipples with the tip of your tongue, rolling the bud gently and carefully between your teeth. It’s torturously pleasurable when you begin to suck and nip at his nipples and Joel thinks he’s gonna–

“Fuck, Christ, oh my god, oh my god, mmm-ohhhh.”

He’s spilling into you, surprising both you and himself. He comes loudly and desperately, all needy whimpers and cries as he pulses inside you, painting your insides with his warm, sticky spend. Grabbing you and holding you tight, his grip easing as his breaths begin to even and he eventually goes still. You rest on his chest, feeling him leak out of you. When you finally sit up to admire your work, Joel’s got his eyes closed, his cheeks are rosy. A few tears running down his face and when you wipe them away, he opens his eyes. 

“You look proud of yourself,” he tells you. His tone is pointed yet quiet, like he’s bashful. “Learned a new trick, huh.” 

“I did,” you smile. He’s gone soft inside of you and you get up off of him, but Joel pulls you back down. “Nuh-uh. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Just to the–”

“Sit back down. I ain’t finished with you,” Here it comes. You anticipated Joel getting revenge in some way or another, but you’re not sure how he plans to. Maybe he’ll lay you on your back, lick you until you cry the way you did to him. He might bring you to the edge over and over and over again, yet never push you past it. Or he’ll make you come until your legs twitch and shake uncontrollably, and you’re a sweaty, sobbing mess of overstimulation. He’s done it all before and you know he’s not opposed to doing it again. “You’re gonna hold up your end of the bargain. Do some hard work for once in your life.”

You begin to protest, “I already did.” 

“That don’t count. You cheated and found a loophole. You wanted me, so you’re gonna have me,” You’re not sure what he means or what he wants from you. You thought you did already have him. “Get on your knees, kiddo,” Joel says, slapping his bare thigh. When you pause, Joel nudges you and guides you to straddle his thigh. “Like this,” he says. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” Joel drawls, “I gave you a hint already.”

He’s placed you on his thigh. He says you wanted him, so you’re gonna have him. But you’ve made him come already, so that means–

“I can’t do that.”

“You started this, you’re comin’ one way or another,” he says. “You’re not getting up until you do it. You’d best get to it.”

His tone is serious, but you’re sure this has to be some sort of game. He watches you, how you furrow your brows in confusion. Joel sits up and adjusts a few pillows behind himself, spreads his legs further apart and holds your ass cheeks in his big, strong hands. “Rock your hips f’me.”

Slowly, you rock your hips on his thigh. You can’t feel much except for the mess you’re making on his leg, your arousal and his spend. It’s all awkward - the clunky and graceless rolling of your hips, the quietness in the room as Joel watches you intently. You shift your thighs, holding on to one of Joel’s hips and one of his shoulders as you rock your hips, trying to feel anything at all. You do - just for a second, maybe. “Keep goin’,” he tells you while drawing lazy patterns on your thigh, but you’re not sure that you can keep going. The expectant look on Joel’s face has you feeling uncomfortable. Not the bad kind of we need to stop this now uncomfortable, but just sort of puzzled. Joel could have tortured you with his teasing and he probably would have gotten a better result. He seems to know this, so he begins to guide your hips again. You’re not sure how he does it, but he finds the perfect angle and he knows this when you moan for him, squeezing his shoulders tight. “Like that,” he instructs. 

You do your best to mimic the action, but it’s just not happening. He must’ve been flexing his thigh, or the way he moved your hips is a way that you can’t replicate without help for some reason. Frustrated, you slump down onto his chest. “I can’t do it.”

“You’re gonna have to,” Joel coos. 

You shake your head, “No, no. I want–just fuck me. I want you inside me, I can’t come without you inside me.”

“Yeah, I know you want me inside ya. Can’t do nothin’ about that on account of what you did to me, now can I?”

You whine and groan in irritation. “Then I need you to do the w–” you press your lips in a thin line. Oops. 

“Work,” Joel adds for you, finishing your sentence. “S’that what I’m hearin’? You need me to do the work?” You nod your head, it’s worth a shot. Maybe. “Not gonna happen, hon. We shook on it.” You pout, whining and groaning again. Joel strokes the skin of your back, “Oh, I know, I know,” he coos, feigning sympathy. “Let this be a lesson to ya then, kiddo. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.”

“Joel,” you protest.

“Joel,” he mocks. “Come on, get up. Get to work.” Joel pushes you back, forcing you to sit back up on his thigh. Generously, he helps you find that movement once more. Where your hips tilt at just the right angle and you can feel the pressure of his thick thigh against your clit. “Right there,” you gasp, holding his hand on your hip. “Nuh-uh,” Joel shakes his head and pulls his arms back, crossing them on his tummy. 

It’s okay. You’re gonna figure this out. You brace yourself on Joel’s shoulders as you search for that sweet spot on your own. Within a couple of minutes, you think you find it. You’re alternating between feeling good, better, worse, then to worse, good, and better. At moments it’s great, and then it just…disappears. And at this point, you’re exhausted. It’s been god knows how long since you even found yourself on Joel’s lap in the first place. You groan, resigning yourself to defeat. You’re about to get off of Joel’s thigh when he grabs your bicep. “Aw, come on kiddo. You givin’ up that easy?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, your tone saying all that you’re feeling. Dejection, frustration, disappointment. 

Joel shakes his head, “M’not lettin’ ya.”

“Joel–”

“Deep breath in and out for me,” he instructs, and you roll your eyes. He repeats himself, “Deep breath. In. And. Out. Do it now.” And so, not wanting to make this any worse for yourself and just wanting to get it over and done with, you close your eyes. You breathe in deeply, letting your tummy expand with his instruction, then exhale your breath fully. “You need to settle down,” he says as you continue your breaths. “S’it. Nice an’ slow.” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “It’s just hard.”

“Know it’s hard. What’d we talk about though, hm? Hard work, right?” you nod your head, “Yeah,” Joel says, “I know. You’re gonna work for it, sweet girl. I’ve been spoilin’ ya.” A few more deep breaths, and Joel speaks again, “M’not gonna do it for you, but I’ll walk you through it if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you beg, your eyes flying open. “Please. Help me.”

“Least you’ve still got your manners,” Joel smiles. He reaches for your knees then, spreading them wide. “Tilt your hips forward, sweetheart, and rock ‘em on me,” he tells you. “What feels good? Back and forth, left and right?”

“Back and forth.” 

“Then do it.”

 And so you do it, just like you’ve been doing this whole goddamn time. Joel watches in your face that you’re not quite there yet, but he encourages you anyway. “That’s it, you’re gettin’ it. Tilt down a bit.”

You’re rocking your hips on his thigh, grinding against him, and with his advice it finally, finally feels good. “Fuck,” you moan. 

“Again,” he instructs, “Keep goin’.”

You grind on him, this time with more intent. Faster and harder, having found that sweet feeling that’s beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, you savor it.

“Good girl,” Joel praises. And then as if to reward you for your hard work, Joel reaches between your thighs and finds your clit with his middle and ring fingers, giving you something extra to enjoy. He’s circling your clit as you move your hips, and when that feeling in your stomach begins to build, you ride him  more intensely, chasing after that high you so desperately need, that you’ve worked so hard for. 

“Need it–need you, Joel, don’t stop, don’t–”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Take your time, kiddo, I’m right here.” 

“You’re here,” you nod, your brows furrowed together and you’re almost unable to speak, too focused on the prospect of release. 

Your velvety folds soaked in Joel’s come and your own arousal. “I’m– fuck, Joel, I’m close,” you moan.

“I know you are, keep goin’,” Joel coos, “You’re right there, just let it happen. Gimme a good one, sweetheart,” You feel your orgasm building to a new edge when you hear him say, “Come for me.”

All it takes is that one command, laced with Joel’s encouragement, and you’re sent tumbling over the edge. Your long-awaited orgasm begins at your core and travels through you, washing over you with pulsing waves of pleasure. “Joel,” you moan breathless and needy, writhing on top of him. You feel it everywhere, in your spine and down your thighs. Your clit twitching, your walls pulsing around nothing as you ride him.

“That’s it, kiddo, there it is. Good girl,” Joel coos. “Did so good.” 

With a soft moan, you fall limp next to Joel, steadying your breath.  

A moment passes. “Finish the job,” he whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

 “You made your mess on me, so you’re gonna clean it up. Part of the deal, sweetheart,” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on his thigh, then swipes his middle two fingers through the mess and pushes it between your lips, “You know what to do. Lick it up,” he instructs. 

It’s not lost on him, the hypocrisy of having you clean up a mess that he had you make. But like he asked, you do it. You’ll do it every time he asks. He holds your hair back as you lick the mess from his thigh, savoring that slightly salty, masculine flavor he knows you love. “Such a good girl. You ready to go to sleep?”

“No,” you yawn, and Joel puts on his glasses again, opens the book back up and reads you the story. You’re sleeping on his chest in minutes. 

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog, leave me a comment, or send me an ask. Your words go a long way and keep me motivated to write 🩷

Forgot to add cat pics!!! I add these at the end of my fics now

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So efficient and protective 😋 I'd jump his bones as soon as we get home 🤭🩷🥵

Grocery Shopping with Price

My blog is predominantly 18+ minors DNI

No warnings but there are mentions of food, reader is able to have periods, but otherwise blank slate. 632~ Words Lynx is the UK brand name for Axe body spray

Price just likes letting you take control in these scenarios.

Yes, he’s happy to meal plan and list build with you, he loves that aspect, it’s very on-brand for him. But when it comes to strolling through the aisles, picking things out off the shelves, he leaves the control to you.

You send him off to retrieve things from across the store and he comes back with exactly what you ask for without fail.

Sometimes he’ll remember other things from the list on the way, piling up impossibly large amounts of produce and dry goods in his muscular arms. He even hid a jar of your favourite night-cream under his boonie hat that one time that had you crying with laughter.

Today you’re in the fresh produce aisle, poking and prodding, groping and grabbing at different fruits and veggies to determine ripeness and freshness. You’re cramping like mad, and you’ve sent John off to get the majority of the shop as you hobble around, clutching at the trolley for dear life.

You’re two days into one of the worst periods of your adult life, and already wishing you’d just got John to do the shop so you could stay home cradling a hot water bottle. You’re minding your own business as a shadow looms over your shoulder.

“Need a hand there, pet?” An unfamiliar grunt makes you pause as you slowly turn to look up to address the source of the intrusion.

The man is your typical sleazy gym bro with gelled hair and a smirk that you guess is permanently etched on his smug mouth. The overwhelming stench of Lynx Africa rolling off him in waves. You crinkle your nose at the offensive odour, reminding you of high school locker rooms and pubescent boys.

“I’m good, thanks,” you say, immediately turning back to your trolley, hoping to move on, even if you hadn’t got what you were looking for.

Deescalate.

You can almost hear John’s voice in your head as you feel the dude-bro shadowing your hasty retreat.

“Aw,” he groans, practically jogging to catch up to you, “Don’t be like that, what’s your hurry?”

“I’m here to shop, not get hit on by some dickhead with an ego,” you snap, letting your hormonal rage seep out as the guy just doesn’t take the hint.

“Woah, no need to be a bitch,” the fuck-head says with wild gesticulation of his hands, “You on the rag love?”

You’re about to snip back at him when your trolley collides with something solid. You groan and are about to spool up a profanity ridden apology when you hear a familiar growl.

“So what if she is?” John snarls as you look up to see his arms laden with what seems like every item on the list as he glowers at the douchebag at your elbow.

“Whatever man,” he scoffs at John as he holds his hands up in cocky compliance, “Have the bitter bitch.”

“You watch your mouth,” John says as he meticulously stacks the produce in the trolley, not once taking his stormy blue eyes off the other man, “Or we’re going to have a problem.”

“John,” you intercede, already over this whole dick waving competition, even if you do love it when he gets like this, “Let’s just get home, yeah?”

“Whatever you need,” he says as he finishes loading up the trolley. You finish the shop quickly, with John insisting he drives you home and gets you tucked up in bed as soon as possible.

It’s not until he takes off his hat while unloading the groceries that he realises he still had a bag of your favourite sweets stuck under his boonie hat. He makes a mental note to go back tomorrow and pay for them.

CoD Masterlist Grocery Shopping with Gaz Grocery Shopping with Ghost Grocery Shopping with Soap Grocery Shopping with König

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I'm learning how to draw and I think I'll be sharing my progress here so get ready for some really bad art lol

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I can't get this out of my head

~~

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I wanna go to the hardware store and pretend I'm confused so maybe a handsome contractor with baby cow eyes and delicious arms will offer me some help and fall in love with me.

Then on our wedding day:

- Joelie, I have to confess something. The day we met I was just pretending. I actually know my way around the hardware store very well but I was too shy to talk to you 🤭

- Well, darling, I guess this a good time to confess I'm not a contractor. I was pretending. I actually sell hardcore drugs 😌☝🏻

I love this silly man 🩷

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This is one of the most beautiful stories I've ever read. It's sweet, funny, hot, it has it all. And the ending omg!!! I'm going to need 7-10 business days to recover from this 😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷 Panchito bonito deserves the absolute best 🩷🩷🩷 Pedro's laughing crying meme represents me so accurately right now

Happy Ending [masterlist]

Francisco Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie’s spent the last twenty years with you on his mind. He’s watched a video you put in his pocket the last time he saw you more times than he can count. Have you been thinking of him too?

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SLOW BURN, time skip (~20 years), friends-to-lovers, this is 100% from Frankie’s POV - refers to main female character/reader as “you”, she is physically described in some ways (shoulder-length hair, hair long enough to pull back, wearing glasses, having freckles and scars, wearing form-fitting clothing, being shorter than Frankie, Frankie is able to pick her up, reader’s pubic hair is described), reader has a definitive age - there is a 2.5 year age gap between her and Frankie, reader engages in different forms of sex work, talk of drugs and addiction, mention of the reader having children, talk of breakups and divorce, addiction issues causing estrangement from children, talk of death and grief, mention of TF canon death, general warning for any/all sex acts, a little bit of spanking🧀

Part I (5608)

Part II (4184)

Part III (3792)

Part IV (4028)

Part V (4292)

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AO3 Link

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Thank you to @iamasaddie for their prompt: "It's Always Been You" when I chose "slutty little knee" in their writing challenge 2.0 - I am SO sorry this is VERY late, but I took on a monster of a project (my own fault.) Thank you for your help over the last week, I could NOT have finished this without you - @strang3lov3 - you helped me come up with the idea, made me this amazing moodboard, made my summary.... you kinda did everything. Except write it I guess, I did that part. You're so amazing and I'm so lucky to have you in my corner. I love you. (and big thanks to @beefrobeefcal and @covetyou for the motivation and beta-reading)

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when you're away for a case, retired Hotchy sends you cute pics with the caption "we miss you ❤️". Sometimes he accidentally sends a pic to the BAU group chat and the team teases him for it.

Derek: boss man is going soft

Penelope: cute doggie 😍 retirement suits so well, sir!

Spencer: I never thought I'd see you so relaxed

Emily: wrong chat, OLD MAN! stop causing distractions, some of us have to work

Hotchy: sorry, I didn't mean to send this here

You: aww I miss you so much, my love 🩷 I'll see you soon 🩷

Emily: go back to work!!! 🫵🏻

You: yes ma'am 🫡

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and when he comes back from a case, I'd be waiting for him with dinner and pussy ready

if I was dating hotch I would pack his lunch for work everyday and leave a cute note inside so he doesn’t forget that I love him more than anything and I think he’s the handsomest person that has ever lived

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This made me cum really hard

Hard Week | TF-141 Polycule x Reader Smut.

CoD Masterlist [AO3]

Summary: When you’ve had a hard week and the boys know exactly how to help you unwind.

Notes: Very gay TF-141 and Reader being horny and gay. Warnings: Orgy, Gangbang, DP, GHOAP goodness, softdom!Price, dommy!Simon/Ghost, Bratty!Soap, poly synamics, unprotected PiV, choking, rough kissing, rough sex, lots of bodies, lots of genitals. Let me know if I missed anything. Thank you @noxturnalpascal for the thorough BETA read and the stick figure drawings. Fucking 10/10.

“Just relax, love,” Price says softly as he pulls you back against him, his lips brushing the curve of your ear. He uses his broad palms to spread your thighs open, settling back against the headboard of one of the many beds in your shared home. You squirm as the cool air hits your wet cunt; you feel so deliciously exposed.

“We’ve got you,” Gaz assures you as he nestles between your thighs, his broad shoulders bumping against Price’s fingers. He kisses the backs of Price’s hands in turn before trailing kisses up the inside of your thighs.

Your head lolls back against Price’s chest, his soft chest hair tickling your back pleasantly as Gaz licks a broad stripe up the seam of your cunt. His lips suckle gently on your clit as he flicks your swollen bud with his tongue. You grip Price’s forearms, soft sighs escaping your lips with every wet drag of Gaz’ tongue through your folds.

Soap crawls up onto the bed next to you, capturing your mouth, kissing you slowly as he palms your left breast in his large hand. He slides his tongue along yours with slow strokes as Gaz slips two fingers inside you. You melt back against Price as you cup the back of Gaz’s head, raking your fingers through his short curls, encouraging him in closer.

You feel the dip of the mattress as Simon joins in, the low growl in Price’s chest reverberating through you tells you that no time has been wasted in Simon claiming Price’s mouth.

You’re building to your first orgasm of the night, and you don’t know where to put your hands as your legs tremble and quake. Price tightens his grip on your thighs, holding you firm. You release the back of Gaz’ head, fumbling for Simon’s cock as the fingers of your other hand threads through the base of Soap’s mohawk.

You press your forehead against his, your breath coming in rapid, short bursts. You’re no longer able to kiss consistently as Gaz and his thick tongue unravel you at the seams. His hot mouth unyielding on your clit as he licks and suckles at your aching bundle of nerves.

“This what you needed, sweetheart?” Simon asks, voice husky as he breaks his kiss with Price, moving to nip at your jaw, his hot breath fanning over your slick skin. You pump his length; his smooth foreskin is supple under your fingertips. Simon groans low as he presses his forehead to your temple.

“Yes,” you pant, “Need more, please.”

You cry out as Gaz brings you to your peak, fire dancing in your veins as you feel the press of four other bodies on your skin, anchoring you as you come hard. Price’s cock grinds against the base of your spine as you rock back onto him, a choked moan ripping from his lips as he slides his hands up over the swell of your stomach to find your tits. Calloused palms and fingertips drag over your peaked nipples as he teases you through your orgasm.

“So good for us,” Price murmurs as he rubs his nose behind your ear, “Who do you want where sweetheart?”

“Want Si and Johnny to fuck next to us while you and Gaz fuck me,” you sigh, still trembling as you press a long, tender kiss to Soap’s lips, “Want to touch and watch them.”

“Dirty lass,” Soap croons as he nips at your bottom lip, “Like watching me and Si get nasty, huh?”

“Yes, fuckin’ beautiful,” you admit with a groan as you look down to see Gaz grinning up at you.

“You’re the beautiful one here, babe,” Gaz says with a chuckle as he pulls his fingers from your slick hole before smearing your slick up and down your folds, “All fucked out and aching for more.”

“Gaz,” you whine as he circles your oversensitive clit with his thick fingers, “Want your cock in my pussy, please.”

“Hear that, Captain?” Gaz says, needling Price with the use of his rank, “I think our girl wants you to fuck her ass.”

You preen at being called theirs. It’s possessive but freeing, knowing that you’re as much theirs as they are yours. The liberation of knowing you’re loved, and love these men equally, unconditionally, makes your heart swell and your cunt throb.

“That so, darling?” Price asks as he slides his hands around to your hips, shifting you forwards just a little before teasing your asshole with his cock, “Want me in your ass, not your pretty little mouth?”

“Yes,” you sigh as you feel the head of Price’s cock catch at your puckered hole, “Need it, please.”

“Johnny, be a good lad and go grab the lube,” Si orders, his tone coated in steel, a familiar warmth spreads through you as you recognise the register of his voice. It’s the voice he adopts when he has you begging for more. The one he uses when you’re pinned beneath him, writhing, and drooling into the sheets as he fucks out every other thought from your head.

“Gimme a wee minute,” Soap groans as he recaptures your lips with his own, tongue slipping into your mouth, slow and teasing as he makes you melt. You increase the pace on Simon’s cock, making the large man jerk and groan under your practiced movements.

“MacTavish,” Simon warns, and you crack your eyes open to see his honey-brown eyes hard and no-nonsense, glowering at Soap. But the façade is cracked as his bottom lip trembles and his eyes gloss over as you thumb at his sensitive tip.

“So demanding LT,” Soap laughs as he rolls off the bed and over to the dresser at the far end of the room that houses drawers upon drawers of sex toys, lube, and other paraphernalia.

“Watch it Sergeant,” Price growls from behind you, his beard tickling against the nape of your neck, “Don’t make me pull rank and discipline you.”

“Sorry Cap,” Soap says with a melodramatic lilt to his voice, “I’m just a poor horny lad, helpless to resist the siren in our midst.”

“Wax lyrical later, Johnny,” Simon snaps as he wraps his large hand around your jaw, turning you to face him while Gaz settles on his knees between your spread thighs, “We’ve got a lady to please.”

Gaz strokes his length impatiently as he watches Simon dip his tongue past your open lips, no romance or tenderness from the larger man now. You arch up into the brutal kiss as his thick tongue fills your mouth. It’s a blissful feeling of being trapped and devoured, making you grind back hard enough on Price’s cock to push the tip past the tight ring your asshole.

You mewl at the familiar, tantalising burn as you stretch around it. It makes your mouth water as you try to push back harder, desire clouding your common sense. Price halts your hips, his body shuddering as he groans into the column of your neck.

“Easy, Simon,” Price purrs, a hand coming up to wrap around Ghost’s neck, “Let’s take our time, yeah?”

Simon eases back, mouth slotted over yours as he pulls firmly at your bottom lip with a breathy moan. His hips buck, chasing your hand as you slow your movements to a torturously slow pace.

“Good boy,” you say in a barely audible whisper, and the reaction you get from Simon is delicious. His eyes snap open and his jaw ticks to the side, you’d think he was angry, if not for the way his cock twitches in your hand. His face is flushed, pink tinging across his scarred cheeks; colour bleeding up from his thick neck.

“You’re brave,” Gaz says with a smirk on his plush lips as he rubs his tip through your drenched folds, “Making Simon blush is a dangerous game.”

Soap rejoins the tangle of limbs on the bed, this time squeezing himself in between you and Simon.

“Aye,” he agrees, squirting a generous amount of lube into his palm before handing the bottle off to Price, “But high risks equal high rewards, right Si?” He grins up at Ghost, who grins back, his eyes sparkling with affection as he sits back on the bed. He cosies up to Price, making sure there’s room for Johnny to staddle him.

“Enough,” Simon growls as he smears his hand into the obscene amount of lube in Soap’s palm, “Lube up.”

Johnny’s bright blue eyes gleam as he nestles his knees either side of Simon’s broad thighs. He maintains eye contact with you as you watch him slide his lubed-up palm just out of sight, a soft moan escaping his lips as he starts to finger his asshole.

“Ready, darling?” Price asks as you feel two lubed up fingers prod at your own tight ring of muscles. Gaz looks at you in mesmerized rapture as he squeezes the base of his cock, sweat beads at his brow as he bites his lip.

“Yeah,” you hum as you lie back against Price’s broad chest, “Work me open, need your cock.”

“Let me know when you’re ready, go on Gaz, fill her up,” Price orders as he teases his middle finger inside you. He glides in with little resistance, the lube doing its job as he seats the thick digit deep inside you, rocking back and forth slowly. The burst of pleasure is maddening as you look over to see Simon lubing up his cock, his amber eyes fixed on Johnny now.

“Ready, babe?” Gaz checks in as he waits for your assent.

“Please, fuck me,” you beg as Price squirts some more lube over your ass, teasing his second finger at your hole.

Gaz pushes his tip inside you, the stretch welcome as the finger in your ass makes you a little tighter than normal. Your back arches up when Gaz bottoms out, already feeling impossibly full with just two fingers now rocking back and forth in your ass.

You look over, bleary-eyed, watching Soap ease himself down onto Simon’s thick length. Soap’s face is flushed as he furrows his brow, short, breathy pants escaping past his lips while he takes Simon’s girth.

The air is hot and heavy as Soap flashes you a strained smile, winking at you  when his ass settles flush against Simon’s thighs. He steadies his hands on Simon’s outstretched legs, thick fingers digging into the larger man’s thighs.

“Look at you pair,” Price says, his voice barely more than a base growl as he rests his head on your shoulder, his free hand flat against your abdomen as he eases his thick fingers out of your gaping hole, “Pretty as a picture.”

“You ready for me, darling?” Price asks as he lines his cock up against your ass. Gaz shivers in anticipation as he remains buried deep inside you. You clench hard as you watch Soap arch his back as Ghost rolls his hips.

“Need you John, fuck my ass,” you pant as Gaz leans in to take your left nipple between his lips as he grinds down into you. The hot, wet swirl of his tongue makes your toes curl and you lose yourself to the pleasure coursing though you.

Your mouth falls slack as you feel the air being punched out of your lungs, you’re so impossibly full, both your holes clenching and quivering as heat ripples through your body.

“So fuckin’ tight,” Price rasps in your ear as he presses his forehead against your shoulder.

“Taking us so well, babe,” Gaz murmurs against your breast as he pulls almost all the way out, groaning as you whimper beneath him, “How’d you want us? You want it rough? Or nice and slow?”

Soap groans low as Simon fucks up into his tight hole, already setting a brutal pace and you can’t help but yearn for that too.

“Use me, fuck me hard, like I’m a fucking doll. Use me,” you cry out as Simon growls low.

“You heard her boys,” Simon breathes as his brow furrows with tension, “Give her what she deserves.”

Soap gently grabs your wrist, coaxing your hand to wrap around his cock as he grins down at you, his jaw clenched.

“Help us out lass,” he coos and you nod limply as Gaz starts to fuck you hard, his thick cock punching deep inside you as Price holds you steady, his movements still slow and cautious, “There you go, good girl,” Soap groans as you pump his cock in earnest.

“John,” you mewl, Price licking a broad stripe up your neck as he fucks up into you hard, your tight asshole gripping him firmly as pleasure shoots up your spine, “You and Gaz feel so good.”

“Yeah?” He groans low in your ear as he digs his fingertips into the soft flesh of your hips, “Like having two cocks stuffed inside you? Like it when I fuck you like this?”

Price continues to spew filth in your ear as Gaz rails into you. Gaz’ face is contorted in a mix of pleasure and tension while his heavy balls slap against your ass cheeks, Price continuing to fuck up into you from behind. Simon groans as he grinds his hips up into Johnny before reaching over and grabbing Price by the hair.

Their lips clash, a flurry of teeth and tongues, as their large forms prohibit much movement in the current tangle of bodies. You can’t see them, but you can hear them; low, rumbling grunts and heavy breaths as tongues slide wet and loud through open mouthed kisses.

You pant into Gaz’ mouth as he cradles your face in his broad hands, stealing kiss after kiss as he pulls all the way out before slamming hard back down into you. Your hand grips and twists at Johnny’s cock as he jerks on Ghost’s lap, you hear his breaths coming in short bursts and feel his dick twitch beneath your fingers.

You’re so close, the hot press of bodies, the heavy tang of sex and sweat weaves around you like your own personal aphrodisiac and you feel your orgasm threatening to crash down on you. Soap is close too, you feel it in the way he twitches with every stroke of your fingertips along his shaft.

Simon comes first, head snapping back against the pillows as he groans low, his hips stuttering as he fills Soap with his come. It triggers Johnny’s own orgasm, hot ropes of his spend gushing over your fingertips as you work him gently through it.

“Fuck,” Soap pants as he falls forward, catching himself on his elbows as he stops himself from head butting Simon’s nose, “Haven’t come that fast in forever.”

Simon chuckles softly as he cups Johnny’s face, pulling him down for a tender kiss. You smile as Soap slips a hand up to fondle your breast closest to him, an absent smirk painted on his lips as he gives you a sideways look.

“Gonna come for them, hen?” He goads and you grin when Price picks up the pace, pleasure thrumming under your skin while you feel Gaz’s thrusts become sloppy, erratic as he moves towards his impending high.

“Fuck me Gaz, come inside me,” you plead as you drop a hand to your swollen clit, knowing you need just that little extra stimulation to push you over the edge. Your skin burns with your impending release and Price sucks hard at the apex of your neck and shoulder, teeth nipping at your skin while he fucks your ass hard.

You cry out when Gaz slams his hips into yours one last time, burying himself inside you as you feel his cock twitch and pulse as he comes. He smothers you with his body, pressing his forehead to your sternum. His lips leaving featherlight kisses on your damp skin, his hot breath fanning across your chest.

“Just you and me left,” Price growls, snaking a hand up to your neck, pressuring your windpipe a little as he pulls you down on his cock, “This what you needed, darling? To get fucked dumb?”

You can’t answer, your body is trembling with exertion and then you come hard, clenching down on Gaz’ softening cock and on Price’s thick length as he spears you on his cock over and over.

“There you go, gripping me so hard,” Price groans as he keeps fucking you, his lips fuse to your skin, “Gonna come in this tight little ass.”

“Please,” you beg as your vision blurs and your back arches.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you fall apart at the seams. Price follows you shortly after, moaning into your skin as he empties himself into you.

There’s silence in the room, save for the combined panting of each of your bodies. Gaz lays heavy on your chest as you lie back, limp in Price’s arms as both Soap and ghost trace patterns on your skin while you lie there.

Each and every one of you are fucked out, blissfully grinning, chests heaving, as the euphoria washes over you all.

“Thank you,” you finally manage to eek out the sentiment as you close your eyes, losing yourself in the gentle touches and soft press of lips against your skin. You don’t know who is where, except for Price, who cradles you from behind.

“No need to thank us,” he whispers softly as he rubs his nose along the plane of your shoulder, “I think we all needed that.”

There’s a general noise of assent from the rest of them as you let out a breathy laugh.

“I need to shower, we all need to shower,” you say with little conviction as you feel yourself drifting dangerously close to sleep.

“In a bit,” Price promises as he holds you close.

You do eventually get up, the boys taking care of you, Gaz holds you in the shower as you slowly sway together. Soap and Price get some take away menus, and some beers from the fridge. Simon strips the bed and fits fresh sheets before putting the soiled sheets and the rest of the dirty washing into the machine downstairs.

You settle back against the headboard, clean and dry, with Simon and Gaz either side of you as Soap and Price lounge on the foot of the bed. There’s a heavy, unspoken sense of tranquillity as gentle touches, and soft kisses are shared between you all.

There’s a simple bliss to it, being surrounded by those who love you. But simplicity is exactly what you need.

[merz-8]

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

dev's hip is lame

i really hate to do this but....i am asking for help. but only if it's within anyone's abilities.

i've talked about it a bit by i have pretty bad hip dysplasia and will need to get a replacement surgery in the next five years, i unfortunately cannot afford to refill my pain meds and muscle relaxers this month and i'm already feeling the effects of cutting my remaining doses in half. anything will help and be so greatly appreciated. but i know it's a lot to even think of asking with everyone having their own stuff going on ♡

ko-fi account

seriously, anything will help. even just a signal boost or a reblog, i appreciate y'all so much and don't want to be a worry wart with this.

[merz-8]

🩷🩷🩷

@merz-8 and @beefrobeefcal damn. Got my ass. Love you both 🩷🩷

[merz-8]

Get attacked!! ❤️✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨❤️

I'm gonna cry 😭🩷 Right back at you, babe 🩷🩷

[merz-8]

Pinterest and 7 comfort movies

Go to pinterest and select the first character, real person, quote, and outfit to get your vibe. Then list 7 of your comfort films.

Thanks for the tag babe @noxturnalpascal 🩷

Comfort movies in no particular order:

The blind side

The devil wears Prada

The unbearable weight of massive talent

The heat

Gone girl

Thor Ragnarok

Shrek 2

[merz-8]

Javi G, my beloved golden retriever man 🩷🩷🩷 Can't wait! ☺️😋🩷

Congrats babe!!! 🩷🩷 Your writing is amazing! 🩷🩷 You got a friend and a fan in me 🩷 For the milestone celebration may I request a sneak peek of a WIP? I'd love to know what you are working on 🩷

And I don't come empty-handed. Here you have some pics of Pedro's hair as a gift 🩷🤭😉

My darling Mercy - thank you so much for sending in this little request. I think you have an idea of the things I'm working on but I'm gonna show you again so I can publish a little sneak peek.

(and thank you for the pictures of my beloved's hair!! 😍)

This will be something for the future - I'm still working on my current series now but this will probably be a short series that would come out this summer. The plot explores what happens when Javi G (TUWOMT) hires a matchmaker to help him find true love 💘.

[merz-8]

All of these comments, gone from your post, @ayadrafts. I've seen screenshots of peoples' messages with you where you just laugh in response to being called out, and part of me thinks that you’re probably just enjoying the negative attention. It’s why I’m hesitant to even make this post and satisfy that sick, sad need within you even more.

You don’t give a shit about writers or the hard work they put in to their stories and that’s pretty fucking disappointing. So this post is going up, and it’s staying up until you take the fic you stole from me down and apologize to me. Your lack of remorse is deeply concerning.