#Second is the palm laid flat out

[ceejaykayess]

Endgame spoilers for AI The Somnium Files abound, play the best part of Uchikoshi's wild ride (said by someone who hasn't seen anything before his Zero Escape stuff).

Can't believe this started with me just wanting to draw my own take on a non-mask wearing Date in Nirvana Initiative and then evolved (devolved, even) into wanting to draw character-centric pieces on the various Dates that then further changed into wanting to work on actually adding background to works which just turned into "make most of it black, but draw attention to symbolism."

Kinda funny I got less content with each subsequent image, with the first being the one I'm most confident in. The faces just got more and more scuffed as I had to draw them from different angles to any references I have. Something to practice on, I suppose.

The first piece could be called "SINKIN' IN THE CAPTaiN'S BRaiN," since it's meant to combine the background of the two of Date' Somnium and their shared motif of being places where to interact with things, light needs to be on them. Which I have thoughts about, thoughts about natural Dadte, but now's not the time.

The second piece, similarly, could be called "VaiNLY PSYNCIN' IN THE CHaiN," or "CHaiNED, PSYNCIN' IN THE VaiN." Depends on whether you want to think of it as Saito pridefully entering Date's mind full force, or Date being forced to drown within Saito. I am horribly curious what PSYNCIN' IN THE CHaiN looked like from Saito's PoV, though. I wonder if it shared the usual motif, or if the topic of discussion being very forcefully turned to something generally unhappy would shift the Somnium's paradigm.

The third piece does not have an elaborate title, since it focuses the least on giving a proper background. It was made to be similar to the final Mental Lock in PSYNCIN' IN THE CAPTaiN, but also reminiscent of the game's cover art. I suppose you could call it... "PSYNCIN' IN THE MIRai"? But, that doesn't suit as much. Actually, to follow the idea of it being my weak spin on NI Date, we could call it "New Invitation." Or something.

Now, the important part. The Date. There isn't really much I could do on him that hasn't been done before, but that's fine. We all build together and all that. I first wanted it to be, a Date that wore his usual clothes but in a way Falco would have worn them. That is, open jacket, and replacing his sweater with a button-up purple and black-striped shirt. Showing off his chest, the whore.

Problem is, Date's usual jacket has huge fucking crossover. Any IRL equivalent I could think of usually had a vest-cut for the neck, instead of some fucking Nomura-type neck protector. So, I had to content myself with not showing off as much of the Datitties as I would have hoped. Instead, his jacket looks all poofs at the side, which is a poorly made attempt at showing that there's an invisible wind blowing everything to the right side of the image, as weakly shown in left-Date's hair being blown back and Falco's jacket being blown forward. Very, very weakly, when I consider how not as much detail as I would hope is conveyed in the pictures I took... how do I rectify that? Take closer pictures?

Whatever, next. Date has his hair in a ponytail, which you can vaguely see over his left shoulder. It's so grey compared to the rest of his hair, because I thought, "Ah, what if in the six year gap Date grew his hair out in his ignorance, and got some of it dyed by, I dunno, a friend he met, and made it the same shade as the mask he kept as a memento from whatever life he led before he woke up memory-less." Some of his lower hair near his neck is dyed, too.

Date's right hand is gloved and his left hand is ungloved because I thought it looked cool, shut up. Also, he has his right hand over his face because I decided that's what he does when he Wink Psyncs. Mizuki gives a peace sign, Ryuki shows off his respect to the aliens, Date listens to his inner-Saito (the part that is a dramatic bitch, not the serial killer part) and poses like an anime villain losing it.

[screampied]

oh my godddd I need choso with a breeding kink

choso and his breeding kink ★

warnings. fem! reader, breeding kink, unprotected, p i v, praise, whiny pussydrunk choso, manhandling, mdni.

you let choso shoot into you raw once, just once and he becomes addicted immediately,

it drives him wild, the feeling of goopy amounts of viscous cum pouring into you every few seconds makes his mouth water tremendously with shaky hands glued to your hips, a sweetened mewl slides out of his lips. “ohh, ‘m c-cummin’ again,” and he dryly laughs to hide his whiny moan that were trying to escape from his compressing lips. despite his voice faltering on its own, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. you lay underneath him, an ankle of yours rubbing down his back. you felt his tense muscles and its warmth grazing against your skin. “mhm, ‘s good for me—more please,” he pleads, leaning in to suck against your neck. a few strands of his hair that was naturally down tickles against your cheek. speaking of strands, a few strands stick against his own forehead as he slows his pace. it’s so much dribbling into you before a little trail of his syrupy seed starts to run its way down your left thigh. “i- i’m gonna get you pregnant, baby. i jus’ wanna make a mess out of you. make a mess outta my pretty girl.”

“you love saying that, hm?” you stroke his cheek, panting breaths departing from your lips before you arch forward.

choso was infertile—being a half human half curse, you weren’t sure if he could actually even get you pregnant but he’s always dreamt of the idea. the thought of you walking around with a rounded, swollen tummy has him nearly drooling into your collarbone. baring a fang into the crook of your neck, his sucking intensifies—you’re so full. he only gives you a silent nod, nibbling his teeth into your skin as he’s still got you stuffed full of cock. “how many babies this time?”

“m- maybe um,” he breaks away to stare into your eyes once more.

choso was sweating, a nice glossing sheet of sweat paints against his flushed face before he gulps at your direct eye contact. prying your thighs open just a bit more to stare at the volumes of cum spilling out of your cunt and onto the sheets, he sighs. “wanna give you twins.”

“. . . oh,” you tease, feeling his warm weight press against your entire body. the heat of each body makes his cravings escalate further. he wants you so bad. choso knew you were teasing from your tone alone but still, he furrowed his darkened brows.

as his dick curls into your gummy, gripping walls that forevermore clung onto him tightly, he whines. “oh? oh— what? is that not enough?”

“i was thinking more like . . five, baby,” you whisper against his ear.

whilst you’re still laid flat against your back, feeling his smooth tempo pick up again, a moan almost drags out of your throat. choso always knew how to make you feel good, vice versa. your breaths were so quickened irregular, it’s as if you’d return from a midnight job. with the back of your foot playfully slides down his stiff back muscles, you cup his chin. “maybe six . . or seven, eight . . ”

“s-so basically, you want an entire family,” he whimpers, a mere smile forming onto his lips.

within a few positions, it was safe to say choso was already pussy-drunk. you had him right where you wanted, and once he saw your nod at his question, he only moans into your neck. “okay, i’ll try. gonna try my best for you,” and a flat palm of his circles against your bare stomach. “and this pretty tummy. ‘s gonna be so full when ‘m done.”

choso was a man who never went back on his word.

he says he’s gonna breed you and that’s exactly what he does—

there was simply no sugarcoating it. it’s been about a plethora of positions and as promised, you were filled to the utmost brim with his cum. choso loves more than anything to have you in missionary. he wants to hold your face as he’s fucking his cum back into you.

a pout spreads against his lips as he feels the slippery slope of his own seed pour its way out of your cunt. he wants you to savor it. it drives him mad—with your legs wrapping around his waist, the desire to give you more of him only increases.

“ugh, ‘s good. you’re gonna be so full. take more, pretty please. saved so much for you,” and he’s just babbling.

it’s cute—he’s whimpering sweet nothings against your skin as he’s languidly swinging his hips into your very core. it’s sloppy, yet it feels almost blissful—each time he finishes inside it literally takes his breath away. chills roam all through his spine as he’s dumping such velvety amounts of cum into you. choso bites his lip at the sudden waves of electricity coursing through his veins. he has a bit of a short circuit and it’s cute. with blow irises, he gasps before making a cute attempt to kiss you, but in reality he’s just sucking on your bottom lip. “take it, t- take it, gimme a baby.”

and his words were raspy, yet his tone was whiny. his head’s spinning but he wants more. choso’s so in love, in love with love, in love with you.

“kiss me, ‘cho.” you mewl out breathlessly, moving a few strands out of his face. once he heard you said that, you didn’t have to tell him twice.

a thumb of yours massage against the bridge of his nose, tickling against the scar before you drag him into your lips. choso loudly moans into your mouth as his thrusts become more precise and slow. you glue against him so good that it’s just carnally lustful..

his hips twitch against your own as he’s shoving his own spilling cum right into your cunt. you’re sopping already, a few creamy droplets already start to rundown your thighs as you cling onto him tightly.

“mhm, i love you. i love you s’much, gonna be such a good mommy,” he whines, resuming to babble between kisses.

mwah after mwah . .

with hooded eyes, and a sheepish little grin, he gazes at your after glow. so pretty, saliva cobwebs string out of your mouth as he breaks away only to kiss you again. a hand still rubs against your tummy before it’s his turn to cup your chin. “p- princess,” he breathes in a raspy way. a tongue swipes its way against your bottom lip. his dick was still inside, idle and not moving—yet it’s just plugging feverish excess amounts of cum into you.

“yes baby.” you stare right back into his eyes, a thumb gliding against his flushed cheeks.

“i- i love you,” he whines, his heart melting from the softness of your touch. you bring a hand of his towards your mouth to kiss it. “i love you but- but ‘m not done. need to fill you some more,” and you gasp once he flips you over, making you get on all fours. “i wanna love you more, especially from behind, h-heh.”

[rowarn]

ENAMORED (m.)

soap mactavish / reader !

tags: established relationship, BIG dicked!soap, afab!gn!reader, virgin!soap, sub!reader

cw: loss of virginity, squirting, size difference, teasing, pet names, praise, wet&messy, missionary, mating press, cunnilingus, fingering, pussyjob, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie

note: this is the fic from the pwp royale i posted recently! loss of virginity won so here's the result!!! MDNI.

; with a too-big-cock, he hasn't managed to lose his virginity yet. until he shares a sweet little moment with you, the love of his life ♡

5.7k words

Soap had been thinking about this for ages. He had been in positions like this before, without a doubt, with previous partners. 

But there was something deep inside him that was breathless over the fact that it was you situated so cute in his lap, dressed all cozy in some clothes you had left over at his place from a previous night you had spent with him. You two had been dating for some time now but he had done his best to avoid being in this predicament because he was worried it would end the same as it had with everyone else. 

Even though Soap was 28, charming and had a lot of luck scoring dates, he was still a virgin. It was the most embarrassing little fact about him. It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course. In fact, all his teammates in 141 were positive he’d gotten laid more times than he could count. But bringing a pretty thing home from a bar always ended the same for him – with them scurrying out of his door with their clothes bundled in their arms the second he pulled his dick out. 

So to say Soap was nervous right about now was in understatement. 

You were so warm against him, smelled so lovely that it made his heart flutter in his chest. Everything about you was so intoxicating that he was terrified this was going to end the same way it always had with other partners – with you becoming intimidated and fleeing with your tail tucked between your legs.

He was so enamored by you that he didn’t think he would be able to cope if you walked out on him like everyone else. 

You pulled him out of his head when you cupped his stubbly cheeks, pulling him in for a deep kiss. His hands flexed against your hips, tugging you even closer on his lap. He was growing harder and harder underneath you and he silently prayed that you didn’t feel it. 

Your hands trailed down to his chest, pressing your palms flat against the firmness there as you deepened the kiss. You sighed sweetly into his mouth, dipping your tongue in to taste him as he eagerly kissed you back. His hands weren’t idle either, going from squeezing your hips to kneading your thighs, bared from your shorts.

Suddenly, he pulled back, eyeing the string of spit that connected your lips before smiling at the way you were panting from a kiss. 

“Can we do…more, Johnny?” you ask softly, rolling your thumb over the scar on his chin.

“Are you sure you want to?” he fires back, meeting your gaze under his lashes.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you smile, adjusting yourself in his lap and he has to fight to hold back the groan from how good the pressure feels even though he’s still confined to his jeans, “I love you. You love me. Of course I want you.”

The way you say it so simply and sweetly makes him smile. He suddenly takes hold of your chin and tugs you close so your forehead rests against his, “I’m not goin’ to lie, sweetheart. I…” he nervously cleared his throat, “I’m a big guy.”

You blink owlishly at him for a moment, “You mean like…”

Your hand slips further down his chest and he quickly intercepts it, taking your hand in his with a nod of his head. Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth and he can see the way your pupils dilate. 

“Okay…” you whisper, “You can just…work me open, yeah?”

His lashes flutter at those words, a groan getting caught in his chest. His hands find purchase on your waist, easily hoisting you up and tossing you onto the other end of the couch before crawling over you. He immediately begins kissing your neck and you eagerly let your head fall back so he can have more access. His chest is pressed against yours, pinning you down with his weight alone as his hands continue to caress your thighs which are splayed open around his hips. 

His cock is painfully hard in his jeans, throbbing with need when he realizes you've started trembling under such simple touches. You lay there so sweetly underneath him, arms splayed on either side of your head letting him touch you and see you however he wants. Pliant.

“So sweet…” he coos, muffled with his lips pressed against your pulse point. 

You sigh contentedly, heart hammering in your chest when his hands finally move north and start pushing your shirt up. Slowly, over your belly button, over your ribs, catching on the swell of your breasts before you lift your head and let him strip the material off. He tosses it somewhere in the living room but neither of you care where it lands. 

“Shite…” he groans when he leans back on his heels, eyes landing on your bare breasts, “You’re somethin’ special.”

Before you have the chance to offer anything in reply, he's got his lips wrapped around one of your nipples. One hand supports his weight beside your body on the couch and the other carefully slips under the fabric of your panties.  You eagerly spread your legs even more, anticipating his touch where you need him most but he doesn’t make any further movements. 

His hand falls completely still, fingertips resting just above your clit, just the slightest twitch down and he would be touching the little bud. 

His tongue eagerly swipes over the pebbled bud of your nipple that’s trapped in his hot mouth. You let out low sighs of pleasure, mindlessly arching your hips up in hopes to get him to move that damned hand lower — but he refuses, intent on teasing you with its presence so close to where you needed him.

He's got you wound taut, tense and aching for him. He dips down and you think he's going to give you what you want, but instead he uses two fingers to peel your folds apart. You feel like the air gets punched out of your lungs, thighs threatening to twitch closed but are blocked by his hulking form in between them. You can hear the sound of your folds parting, wet and sticky and it makes his cock fucking throb. 

“You’re so wet, you hear that?” he teases, popping off your nipple with a crooked grin. 

“Shut up,” you intend for it to come out biting but it comes out weak and soft, which only makes his grin broaden. 

Your hole clenches pathetically around nothing, drooling and leaking into your panties. You feel like you could cum if so much as a breeze brushed over your clit. You've never been pushed so close to the edge from someone teasing you like this. 

One of your hands finds purchase in his mohawk, tugging the short strands so he is forced to meet you in a heady kiss. You whimper into his mouth and his free hand cups and gropes your tits in his large hand, massaging the soft flesh as he eagerly kisses you back. As you kiss, you attempt to rut your hips up in hopes of getting him to slip between your folds and make you feel good, but it doesn’t work and he chuckles. It’s cute you think you can distract him like that. 

The kiss is messy and sloppy, strings of spit connecting your lips when you finally part to take a breath. You look up at him with a dazed, heady look to your eyes that has him pecking your lips once again before descending back to your breasts. You cry out in surprise when you feel the nip of his teeth against the bud. As he tortures you with his mouth, he takes the chance to tug your shorts down your legs. You eagerly lift your hips to help him rid your body of the offending clothing, tossing them to get lost somewhere alongside your shirt.

Once you’re bare, you let your legs butterfly open, giving him a full view of your completely bare body. 

You’re practically panting when his hand slinks down your body once again, parting your folds with that sticky sound that has heat flushing to your cheeks, much louder now that there’s no clothing blocking it. Soap’s eyes drop to your pussy, index and middle finger holding your labia apart so he can see how your clit throbs and your hole clenches pathetically around nothing, drooling down to the couch. 

“So pretty,” he coos, wishing he could roll his thumb over that pretty little clit just to watch your body twitch from the pleasure but he’s on a miss.

He surges forward again to kiss you, soaking in your happy sigh at the little affection, but it doesn't last long before he's mouthing his way down your body — nipping and suckling at your skin as he makes his way further and further down. 

His large, callused hands grip under your knees and pin you embarrassingly wide open with your knees to the couch. He kisses up your inner thigh and over your pelvis, stopping to press his lips against your hip bones before his tongue dips down and swipes over one of your labia. 

Your taste lingers on his taste buds and he practically moans at the feeling. You gasp, hands flying to his mohawk when he gives the other side the same treatment, cleaning up your mess with his tongue. 

You desperately attempt to rut your hips up, whining with your need to feel his touch properly where you need him but he backs off and waits for you to sink back into the cushions in defeat before pressing a kiss above your clit. His pretty, blue eyes watch every pout and furrow of your brows that crosses your face from his teasing. 

He can tell you’re getting frustrated and needy – just the way he wants you. The fact you’re so pliant and at the mercy of whatever he’s willing to give you is intoxicating. You’re so sweet for him. 

It feels like hours that he torments you, kissing around your thighs and lapping over your folds but never giving you what you actually need. He continues to clean up any mess without actually touching where you desire him most, simply savoring your juices on his tongue. 

Your clit aches, twitching with need as it begs for just the slightest touch from him — something to put you out of your misery. 

“Johnny…” you pathetically whimper, fisting his t-shirt, tugging him closer in hopes of getting him to give you what you want.

His long lashes flutter as he looks at you, “What is it, sweet one? Something you want?” 

“Need,” you correct hastily with a tearful glare. He thinks it’s supposed to be intimidating but he only seems to find the display cute.

He laughs softly, a charming smile crossing his face as he looks completely endeared by you, “Need, huh? Are you always this needy?” 

“Only for you, Johnny!” you whimper, moving your grip on his shirt to his hair again, hoping it’ll give you more leverage but he doesn’t budge. 

He laughs softly, “That’s right, little one. Just for me.”

You feel so on edge, like he’s worked you up to an orgasm without ever actually touching you properly. He thumbs your folds apart, leaving the needy little bud open and exposed to his greedy gaze. You wish so badly he would just breathe against you so you could experience something more than this mind-numbing teasing your boyfriend has subjected you to. It’s pathetic, you realize, wishing for so much as a breath against your bud. But there’s just something about Johnny that always has you hanging on everything he does. You’re enamored, in love.

That thought has you whimpering, sinking back into the cushions of the couch.

“So sweet,” he coos dismissively, smile only widening as you tearfully glare at him.

His gaze darkens at the sound of a sob tearing through your chest and he bites his lower lip when his cock fucking throbs. He didn’t really think he’d be the type to enjoy seeing his partner cry and he’s not even sure he would be into it if it was anyone but you, but here he was. 

Soap thinks you look so precious like this, defeated and waiting for his next move.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he commands suddenly, chastely kissing your navel when you finally meet his gaze, unfocused and tearful, “There you go, good. Don’t look away now, okay?”

You nod your head, finding yourself getting lost in his unwavering eye contact. His pretty blue eyes and long, soft eyelashes that you could simply marvel at for hours. He was so handsome and all yours and that alone made you even wetter. Your boyfriend was on top of you, giving his all in making you feel good. 

As you're lost in thought and his eyes, his fingers finally dip down to where you need him most, pressing the pads of his digits against your clit. The little bud is so hard and sensitive that the small amount of stimulation has you toppling over the edge immediately. 

Your eyes remain open and locked with Soaps as you cum with a weak cry of his name. His fingers gently circle your clit, sticky, wet circles over the bud to ease you through the high. 

When you finally slump against the couch, thighs twitching against his sides through the aftershocks, he pulls back. Your eyes flutter closed, panting from the exertion of your orgasm. You’re practically boneless as Soap suddenly moves you trembling legs over his shoulders. 

His gaze falls to your swollen, pulsing cunt. Your folds are covered in a slick film and he can still see the way your clit and hole throbs, drooling your cum messily with every clench. Your eyes flutter open, cheeks heating when you see how intently he’s staring at your pussy.

“Don’t stare…” you whine bashfully, voice dragging his gaze back to your face.

“Can’t help it,” he gives you a crooked grin, “You’re so pretty here.”

You whine at his response, kicking your foot against his back in retaliation.

Suddenly it's like all rational thought flies out of his head and he's pinning your knees to your chest. 

You gasp at the change in position, “Johnny!” 

He chuckles at the way you sound shy, as if he didn't just have you cumming underneath him a minute ago. 

The feeling of his breath against your sensitive folds is enough to make your thighs twitch in his grasp. He makes a show, when he finds you looking down at him through your lashes with your chest rising and falling from how hard you're breathing, of letting his tongue fall from his mouth. 

Slowly, he descends, sliding his tongue between your slick folds. You practically wail, your back bowing against the couch when his tongue swirls around your clit, suckling it into his mouth. Your head slams against the couch cushion as your eyes roll back in your head, your hands gripping at his mohawk as you wail his name. 

“Johnny! Johnny! Johnny!” you squeal, legs kicking and flailing at the feeling of him eagerly slurping at your clit.

He backs off for a moment, releasing your bud with a lewd pop. You're panting and trembling, your knees still pressed against your chest, open and vulnerable for him. Your precious cunt is now coating in a slick film of your own cum and his spit.

“Keep yourself open for me,” he commends with a sharp look that makes you immediately do as you’re told. Your trembling fingers grip under your knees, hugging them to your chest. 

He spreads your folds apart with his thumb before his mouth finds its place there again, eagerly slurping up your cunt with a moan. He desperately eats you, swirling his tongue over your clit and dipping it into your clenching cunt to taste your juices. He's messy and sloppy, drool and your cum dripping down his chin and neck.

You cry and tremble beneath the onslaught of his tongue, he introduces two fingers, swiping them against your drippy entrance. You barely even seem to notice, too distracted humping your clit against the flat of his tongue when he lays it flat out for you. 

“Oh, Johnny!” you cry out, toes curling in your fuzzy socks the closer you get to your second orgasm, “Don't stop! Please, don't stop, Johnny!” 

He moans against you, the sound and feeling of it sending you over the edge. When he feels your clit throb on his tongue, he finally slips those two fingers inside you. The feeling of suddenly being stretched and filled sends you flying even higher. Soap has to use his body to hold you down as you kick and squirm from the overstimulating pleasure of having his thick fingers crooking inside you, grinding against that gooey little spot. 

“Johnny-!” you cut yourself off with a deep, long moan as you messily squirt all over the front of his shirt. 

Johnny continues to grind the tips of his fingers into that tender little spot inside you until you simply can’t take it anymore and shove him off with a weak cry. Soap pops the cum covered fingers immediately into his mouth as he watches you twitch and tremble against the couch, tearfully staring up at him. 

“Too much, sweetheart?” he asks, once he’s cleaned his fingers off.

You nod, taking a deep breath, “I-I’ve never…” you trail off and he quirks a brow. 

“Never squirted?” he finishes and you nod, “Well, I’m honored then. I guess we’re even.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, finally uncurling yourself from your position with a weak grunt, opening your arms to pull him close to you, finding yourself needing his touch.

His cheeks heat up, realizing it’s time to finally tell you his little secret, “Well…it’s my first time.”

“Making someone squirt?” you offer him a soft smile but it quickly fades when he shakes his head.

“No, I mean…” he clears his throat, “I mean havin’ sex.”

Your eyes go wide, “Really? But you’re like…really good with your tongue.”

He chuckles softly, forehead falling against your chest, shaking his head, “No I’ve got a lot of experience in foreplay. It’s after that I’ve never gotten to.”

You sit up at that, shock apparent on your face, “You’re a virgin, Johnny?”

“Aye,” he solemnly nods, trying to hide the embarrassment that bubbles under the surface.

“But how?” you question, “You’ve dated a lot. You’re good looking and kind.”

He grins at your praise, “I told you, little one,” he sighs, figuring now would be a good time to properly warn you about what you’re getting into, “I’m a big guy. Most people get scared off.”

Your brows come together in confusion, “Really?”

He nods slowly, carefully watching your face for any signs of apprehension. But you only continue to look confused. 

“Will you show me?” you finally ask. 

“You want to see…?” he finds himself stumbling over your question, heart hammering in his chest when you eagerly nod your head.

Wordlessly he sits up on his knees, fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. You can see the outline of his cock pressing against the material and he does look big but you want to see him completely. 

He unzips his jeans and reaches inside, hissing at the feeling of his hand wrapped around his neglected length. He finally pulls his cock free, twitching at the feeling of the cool air against him. He’s been leaking precum profusely, incredibly turned on from making you cum twice. 

“Johnny…” you whisper breathlessly, eyes wide as you stare at his length wrapped in his fist, “Holy shit.”

“I told you,” he smiles crookedly but deep down he’s nervous. 

This is the moment that will make or break you. Either he finally gets to be with you, the person he wants to share his love with the most, or you give him that terrified look and go scampering away. 

You reach out and knock his hand away, replacing his grip with your own. His breathing stutters when you give him a few, slow strokes. Your hand is so much smaller than his, unable to touch your fingers around the girth of him. The sight has him biting back a moan because fuck you’re so much smaller than him.

“You’re going to have to really prepare me, Johnny,” you playfully glare at him from under your lashes. 

His brows shoot up in surprise, “You mean you…”

“I love you, Johnny,” you smile softly at him, “I want this with you. Just…take your time, okay?”

“Of course,” he swallows thickly, quickly batting your hand away and urging you to lay back once again. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss, “Let's go to the bedroom.”

“Yeah, yeah we-we can do that,” he stumbles over his words foolishly, making his ears burn red in a way he hopes you don’t actually notice. 

After some stumbling and giggling, the two of you quickly find your way to his bedroom. After shutting the door, you crawl onto the bed, relaxing into the pillow, looking like his own little piece of heaven all naked on his sheets just for him. 

He strips himself where he stands at the foot of the bed, tossing his shirt into the hamper in the corner before letting his jeans and boxers pool at his feet. 

He’s on top of you before you know it, bringing you in for a kiss. As you eagerly spread your legs to accommodate his big frame, he reaches between your bodies and grips his cock again. Your entire body tenses up when you feel him pressing the tip against your folds.

“Johnny, no,” you whine, pressing against his chest, “Y-You’ll tear me open if you try to–”

“Not tryin’ to get it in, pretty baby,” he coos, “Jus’ trust me, yeah?”

You watch as he swipes the head through your folds, sliding the length between them, rutting his hips. You gasp as he grinds over your clit, making your whole body twitch from the stimulation. You’re still sensitive from the previous orgasms he had milked out of you. 

Before long, he pauses.

“Look at that,” he grins, “That’s how deep I’ll be.”

You feel your cunt clench pathetically at the sight of his length resting over your pelvis. You know that when you take him all the way, he’s going to be prodding painfully at your cervix. But you know you’re going to love every second of it. 

Not only is he long, his girth is amazing. You know it’s going to stretch you wide, you can practically feel the phantom burning feeling you know will accompany it. His cock is uncut, messily drooling all over your skin. The prettiest fucking cock you’ve ever seen and it makes your mouth water. 

“Think you can take it?” he teases, playfully tapping the heavy length against your clit. 

You whine and nod, “W-Want you to make me take it, Johnny.”

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” he chuckles softly, “Aye, we’ll make it fit, little one.”

Soap’s hand finds its way between your thighs again, two fingers prodding at your entrance as his other hand cups one of your breasts. You lay back in his pillows, staring up at him like he hung the moon and the stars as he stretches you open on those two digits. 

You’re pillowy soft and wet inside, pretty cunt making sticky clicking sounds as he fucks you with them. Your cum coats his skin and a creamy mess begins to form at the last knuckle when he works that tender little spot up top. 

Before long, he’s introducing a third finger. He slowly presses it in alongside the other two, stretching you open carefully and methodically until all three digits are pressed inside the tight clutch of your cunt. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he encourages, “Open up for me so I can give you my cock.”

You whine at that, “Want your cock, Johnny.”

He groans, pressing a kiss against your knee, “I know you do, sweet thing. Jus’ let me stretch you open for it, yeah?”

You nod and toss your head back, working your hips down against his fingers. He carefully fucks you with them, spreading them inside so you get used to the feeling of being stretched and filled for when the real thing is finally pressing inside. 

Fuck, the thought makes his cock ache. 

His thumb sneaks up and presses against your clit. The extra stimulation makes you clench around them like a vice and you moan so sweetly for him. He can’t wait to feel that around his heavy cock. 

“Johnny, please!” you cry, “I want you already.”

“Fuck, alright, sweetheart,” he grunts, pulling his fingers from inside you with a wet sound. 

He wraps those slick fingers around his length, smearing the mess across the soft skin. It’s embarrassingly desperate, the way he grips your hips and yanks you closer to him. You gasp at the forceful handling but quickly relax into the sheets when he leans down and kisses you again. 

As you’re occupied with his lips and tongue, he grips the base of his length and carefully begins to prod at your entrance. You whimper into his mouth when he starts to press inside.

Just the tip of him is a lot to take and you can't help but wince when that fat head finally pops inside. Soap feels the way you jump and quickly pulls out, biting back a groan when he sees wet, sticky strings of your cum and his pre connecting his cock to your cunt.

He uses the head to circle your clit, making you sigh in pleasure before he’s pressing back inside. This time he, when the head pops inside, begins rolling your clit under his thumb to soothe the ache.

“Just relax,” he coos, slowly circling the bud as he sinks more and more of his length inside. 

The stretch stings and he fills you up more than you’ve ever experienced before. He feels so heavy and hard inside you and his finger on your clit makes you reflexively clench and spasm around him. He moans at the feeling, pretty blue eyes rolling back as he feels half his cock being hugged. 

Before long, he’s balls deep, deeper inside a cunt than he’s ever been in his life. Its euphoric for him. A painful ache settles in your stomach from how he’s prodding against your cervix. He stills, watching your furrowed brows as you get used to being stuffed full of his cock for the first time. 

It dawns on him suddenly that he’s lost his virginity. To you. He’s got his fat cock buried in the one person he adores more than anything on this Earth. 

He’s overcome with affection, surging forward to press his lips against yours. You whine when the angle change makes him press even deeper inside you but you kiss him back anyway. 

He pulls back slowly, “Just relax,” he assures you again, “That was a lot, huh? You took me so well, pretty.”

After a few moments under his careful caresses and kisses, you relax into the bed. Blinking blearily up at him, you flex your hips and stir his cock inside. You whimper at the feeling and he slowly pulls back so only half his length is left inside. 

“Pretty,” he mutters, “P-Pretty and fuckin’ wet.”

“Johnny…” you sigh sweetly, clutching at his sheets as he begins to fuck you in earnest. 

Your tits bounce in time to his thrusts and he can’t take his eyes off them. He’s still a little shell-shocked from having you speared on his heavy, aching cock. He can’t believe he’s got the sweetest thing creaming around him, crying his name. 

“Johnny!” you cry sharply, hands flying to cup your own tits. 

Your eyes are wide, almost like you’re shocked, “What is it, pretty?” he asks, panting.

He watches in wonder as you toss your head back, squealing and trembling. You’re cumming, he realizes. Squeezing and clenching around his cock like a vice. 

“Shite,” he moans, hands trembling as he grips your hips, helping you rut against him as you cum, “‘S it, ride it out for me. Cummin’ nice and hard, hm? Barely even did anything and you’re creamin’ all over me.”

You whimper, eyes rolling at his filthy words. You slowly sink back into the bed with a heavy sigh, heart racing as you stare up at him. Soap loves seeing you like this, covered in sweat and twitchy from how hard you came from nothing but his cock stuffed inside you. 

“More, please, Johnny,” you whine, locking your ankles around his back, locking him against you, “I want more. Please make me cum again.”

He scoffs in disbelief, pressing his hands on either side of your head on the bed, “You just came and you want more?”

“Yes, please?” you ask softly, batting your lashes at him. 

“Yeah, baby,” he whispers, slowly grinding his hips against you, making sure his pelvis grinds against your clit, “I’ll give you whatever you want. This cock’s all yours now, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, “All mine, Johnny. ‘S all mine. You’re all mine. L-Love you so much.”

“Fuck!” he growls, fisting his sheets as he works his hips faster and faster against you, “Love you too. Love you, love you, love you.”

He can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed at his babbling. All he can do is work his hips against yours, listening to your pretty moans and the slick sounds of your pretty pussy being fucked. 

Your back arches and you reach between your bodies to circle your clit with trembling fingers. His jaw drops at the sight. He never thought he would have the chance to see a sweet little thing like you working themself to orgasm on his cock like this before. 

“Sweet baby,” he whines, sounding broken and completely broken, burying his face in your neck, “You’re so wet. You’re makin’ such a mess around me. Pretty cunt’s so wet.”

You sob at that, eyes rolling as you toss your head back. You can feel another orgasm brewing, heating your skin and making you tremble underneath your boyfriend's massive body.

“Johnny, please!” you wail, feet kicking against his back.

“What? What do you need?” he pants, drooling against your skin from where his face is still buried.

“Please!” you cry again, pressing against his shoulders to push him back. 

He looks dazed, completely fucked out and stupid from having his cock fucked for the first time. You grab his hand and shove it between your thighs. He quickly picks up what you need and starts rubbing your clit.

“This what you needed?” he pants, “Needed me to play with this pretty clit so you can cum nice and hard again?”

You squeal, jaw falling open as you back bows off the bed. He moans at the feeling of you soaking him, gushing and squirting against his bare chest and all over his hand. His mouth practically waters at the thought of getting to taste you as you cum again.

“Already?” he gasps, “So fuckin’ sensitive, cummin’ so easily for me. Fuck, so good for me. I’m gonna cum, baby.”

You nod your head, still shaking from your orgasm, “F-Fill me up, Johnny. Please. Want you to cum inside!”

“Fuck, are you sure?” he gasps, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

You nod your head, “Yes, need it, Johnny.”

He fists the sheets on either side of your head as his entire body begins to tremble. His hips lose their rhythm and with a few more, weak rabbiting thrusts, he’s cumming. He cries your name, rutting his hips against yours. The movement causes him to grind against your sensitive clit, making you whimper and twitch beneath him. He grinds painfully against your cervix from how deep he is but it’s worth it to see the pretty way he cums inside you. It's a hot, thick load that fills you up and oozes out the sides of his cock and drips down to the bed. 

Afterwards, there’s a stillness that falls over the two of you. The only sound you can hear is the faint hum of the TV in the living room and the heavy panting between the two of you. 

Soap can’t think of anything to say, all he can think is to lean down and press his lips against yours. He wraps his arms around your body, holding you close to him as you cling onto him, still trembling. 

“Love you so much,” he whispers, muffled against your lips because he’s not willing to pull away.

“Johnny,” you whimper, “I love you.”

He smiles crookedly, pecking your nose and forehead over and over again before you’re giggling and pushing him away. 

With his cock softened, he slowly and carefully pulls out of you, both of you wincing from how sensitive you are. Your thighs are still open and he watches as his cum oozes from your thoroughly abused cunt. His hand slides up your thigh, nearing your folds but you quickly slam your thighs shut, trapping his hand between them. 

He looks up to find you glaring at him, “Don’t even think about it.”

He grins crookedly, shrugging his shoulders, “What’s the matter, baby? Don’t fancy a go again?”

“After that?” you cry, throwing your head back to laugh, “I’ve never cum so much in my life, Johnny!”

“Ah, you really know how to boost a man’s ego,” he chuckles, flopping onto the bed beside you. 

He pulls you close, tucking you against his side, “Hard to believe that was your first time.”

“Aye,” he hums, kissing your temple, stroking your back slowly, “I’m glad it was you.”

“I am too, Johnny,” you snuggle close to him, kissing his bare chest.

There’s a quiet that falls over the two of you. Your breathing slowly begins to even out and he quickly realizes that you’ve fallen asleep. He hugs you closer, protective instincts urging him to keep you safe while you’re well-fucked and vulnerable like this in his arms. 

His heart skips a beat when his gaze lands on his night table, remembering the ring he’s got hidden away within. He wonders when he’s going to grow the nerve to finally ask you to wear it. 

DO NOT REDISTRBUTE, TRANSLATE, OR MODIFY. DO NOT RECOMMEND ON TIKTOK.

[hxltic]

imagine bokuto fucking you so good from behind

you’re laid flat on your stomach, where he has two large hands digging into the small dip of your back. He’d already fucked you out, so now with every dragged curl of his hips, it feels ten times longer. He’d go slow before increasing speed.

Sweat is dripping down your body and wetting your hair. He does that lopsided full grin of his and brushes his own sweat droplets from his forehead, before shifting weight completely to his palms and slamming down almost fully parallel to your body. You were pinned. Your walls tugged against the length of him, massaging his cock in a way no fist can. You were tight but so fucking wet, and with every slap of his forgotten balls you get closer and closer to what,, your 4th orgasm?

“H-ah fuck! Oh m’god Ko-”

The bed rocks with every roll, your chin slowly falls with the weight of your head, and your eyes droop inconsistently. You start to mumble to no one into the covers.

“Mmph, fills s’gud,” you’d whine.

“Just hold out for me alright baby? You’re takin’ it like a fucking champ.”

He adjusts one hand to disperse along the whole portion of your back, allowing him to grab one arm and fold it into his hold. He copied the movements for the other while your hips naturally rise. You, him, and the bed bullied the supporting wall together, causing scratch marks of dark grey to stain it. With the loss of cognizance, you didn’t notice how he wasn’t as horizontal anymore, but was pressed more on his knees. The strength he even has to do that is insane— and honestly, you wish you could admit it—but you were too distracted by the slight upward angle this entailed.

If your eyes weren’t rolled back, they were now. Your jaw hung slack when they first shot wide, portraying on your face the exact feeling of ecstasy that ran through your veins. Bokuto noticed how you became stagnant for just a split second. Idle, even.

You then shivered and shook as you sporadically pushed your hips back in an escape. Of course, this was futile with no arms.

“H-Oh my fucking god Kotarō,” your voice was higher than he’d ever heard it.

He just roughed you up towards him, grabbing you by the fat of your ass connecting to your hips, and slipped himself back in like nothing happened. When you tried to wiggle away, you successfully got him to let one hand loose, but the consequence was that one shoulder was on the bed and the other wasn’t, so now your neck was craning to look at him by the side in doggy.

Thrusting into you in a new position where there was nothing left of his dick to see, you could’ve screamed. There was no buildup or anything, he hit the same spot about twice a second, but you were out of energy. In this moment he sacrificed speed for power. With a mindless, animalistic groan, you pushed against him from inside and came. The mixed-haired man smiled once white started to peek out whenever he thrusted. Your ass stained red along with your tightly held wrist.

So you laid there and took it all instead, half mentally here and half not. He only laughed that boisterous laugh from behind you and forced your hips down. They’d ricochet off, then return with momentum. It was hot and wet, a lewd scene with your mixed sounds and his loud grunts. And you know when Bokuto wants something, he goes all out.

He knew you knew the safe word, and he knew you knew when to use it; therefore, he’d fuck you until you could barely think. You loved it.

He’d taunt, “You tryna run away?”

“Hummph”

“sorry babe, what was that?”

“n’mm.”

“close enough.” he concludes breathlessly.

[stargirlrchive]

── KINKTOBER DAY NINE

mirror sex w/ simon riley ─ female!reader

cw: reader being insecure, fingering, p in v, slight choking, slight hair pulling, soft dom simon, cum play(?)/finger sucking, PRAISE AND BODY WORSHIP (RAHHHH)

NSFT ✩ MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ✩ GENERAL MASTERLIST

“you can’t be serious, love.”

your shoulders shrugged softly as if to brush it off, as if this hadn’t been weighing on your heart so heavily.

“i just don’t-” you cut yourself off before sighing defeatedly, “i don’t like how i look right now. i prefer not to go out and just be home, where im not going to be hyper-aware of how i look.”

simon’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion, his eyes glazing over you entirely. you were perfect. he didn’t understand what there was not to like. but as you began to fidget under his stare, guilt ate at him.

guilt for not realizing your own insecurities had begun to eat at you and that they had festered to the point where him looking at you caused you to squirm. he leaned closer, hands rubbing up your thighs and towards your waist to pull you to him.

he sat you firmly on his lap, his face digging into your neck as he inhaled your familiar scent. “has my pretty girl not been feeling her best?”

your face grew hot as his hand laid on your belly, toying with the elastic of your shorts. you answered him with another shrug.

his fingers stilled for a brief moment, “do you want me to make you feel better, hm?”

you gave him a short nod before he pried your legs open. his fingers dipping between your thighs to rub at your clit through your shorts. a soft hiss leaving your mouth as you relaxed into him, “need you to tell me when you aren’t feeling good, baby.”

you whimpered when his fingers left your clit, standing up and taking you with him. his big hand moved back up to your belly as he guided you both to your bedroom.

when he walked the two of you past the room and into your bathroom, your eyebrows furrowed together.

“i thought-”

he nipped at your ear, closing the door behind him with his foot as he caged you in between the restroom vanity and his hard muscled chest. “we are. but i want you to look at yourself while i fuck you.”

his fingers slowly removed your shirt, pressing his hardening cock against your ass as he kissed down your throat, “want you to remember just how fucking beautiful you are.”

you were about to protest but a soft growl came from simon and the words died on your tongue. his fingers unclasping your bra. his eyes hungrily devouring the sight before him as his fingers skimmed over your belly and towards your breast.

“so pretty,” he mumbled more to himself, but it didn’t stop the familiar ache that began to throb between your thighs.

his thumb gently swiped across your nipple and it hardened beneath his touch. his face tucked into your neck as he groaned quietly, “fuck.”

through the mirror, he watched you with an almost drunken haze. watching the way your body reacted to his touch.

his fingers slowly pulled down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear. his fingers slipping into the fabric and rubbing at your clit. sliding his thick fingers between your folds.

“already so wet for me.”

your face colored in embarrassment and tucked into his neck to not look at yourself anymore. simon gave a soft click of his tongue, showing his disapproval.

his unoccupied hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your face and forcing you to watch yourself. your thighs quivered gently as one of his fingers sunk into you.

“i said i wanted you to watch.”

you whimpered softly at the command in his voice, still so very gentle but firm that you felt it in your bones. your cunt clenched around his finger.

the flat of his palm laid against your puffy clit as he eased a second finger into you. “how could you possibly think you aren’t beautiful?”

your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as his cock rutted against your ass. “do you have any idea of how many times i have to restrain myself from just fucking you wherever we’re at?”

you cried out softly as his fingers gently tightened around your throat, your eyes snapping back open to watch yourself as he fucked you with his fingers.

“or how many times i have to stop from fucking ripping the eyes out of some idiot who’s lookin’ at you for too long?”

you came around his fingers quickly and unexpectedly, and simon grunted when your thighs closed around his hand.

“you drive me crazy, baby. it’s not fair.”

you were breathless and loose, simon slipping his fingers out of you and towards your mouth. your lips instinctively wrapping around his fingers as you licked them clean.

you whined quietly when he pulled his fingers out, “see? you even taste good.”

his fingers unwrapped from your throat and your panties were being pulled down your legs. simon was spreading your thighs before you knew it.

his sweats pulled down only enough for his hard cock to be out. “no fair-”

he laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your hair as he tapped his cock against your clit, one hand on your stomach to keep you up right, your back against his chest. and the other guiding his shaft through your slick folds.

he pushed the tip of his cock into you, grunting softly, “say it, baby-”

your fingers gripped at the counter, even with him stretching you out with his fingers he was still so big. it always took some getting used to.

“say you’re my pretty girl.”

he sunk fully into you, pressing soft kisses to your hair before delivering short, shallow thrust.

your eyes had locked onto simon’s through the mirror, and maybe it was the conviction in his voice, or the sex haze, but either way you did feel it.

like you were his pretty girl.

“come on, baby. say it.”

one of his hands laid on your hip while the other tangled in your hair. his thrust increasing in speed as he grunted soft praises into your ear.

“i-im your pretty girl.”

“damn right you are.”

his thrust picked up pace, fucking into you as his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you and holding you against him. grunting into your ear as you squealed softly from pleasure.

“my sweet girl, you make such pretty noises too.”

you were sure your face couldn’t have burned hotter. his compliments seeping into your skin as you tightened around his cock.

your body spasming against his hold as he held your gaze through the mirror. fucking you through your orgasm.

a quiet groan fell from his mouth as he came, deep inside of you and not once did he let you go. the both of you panting and exhausted as he kissed your neck.

“want you to tell me next time you’re feeling like this. i’ll make sure to remind you just how lovely you are.”

and you knew that he would.

taglist: @trashfox @king-julian6201 @cyberfreaky @tojisun @lazystorycollector @cosmicanakin @yeoldedumbslut @httpsmama @punk-22 @youcraveet @moxiz @hisa-plush @alastairheir @ra-im @ifellinthebong @darlingvinny @aeplern @tallmanlover @screamingoverfiction @mixling-blog @pretty-npeach @babygirl-riley @cringeycookies ; lmk if you would like to be tagged <3

[gutsby]

Cry, Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Warnings: 18+. Dacryphilia (kinda). Unprotected p-in-v. Girthy, unspecified age gap. Daddy kink. Jealous Joel.

Notes: Sorry for using pussy pronouns. It will happen again.

Joel Miller was a man of few words in most every place except the one where he found himself about to beat the brakes off your pussy. Then he never shut the fuck up.

“Uh-huh…just a little more…I know, sweet girl, I know.”

You had your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel of his ‘71 Ford F-100, but rather than driving anywhere, your ass was comfortably parked on the front of his jeans—straddling his lap backwards while you rubbed your half-clad cunt over stonewashed denim. It was hell.

You’d been grinding against the bulge beneath those jeans so hard, and for so long, your white cotton undies had parted to the side, and your pleasure was nearly stretched commensurate with just how pathetic you felt.

Your head dropped between your two hands on the black molded plastic of the wheel, and you let out a whine.

“Joel—”

“Keep goin’.”

“This ain’t fair!”

Without hesitation, the hands that were holding your hips tightened their grip, and now Joel was raking your lower half over his. Rutting your core back and forth.

“You wanna know what ain’t fair?” he seethed.

He didn’t wait for you to answer.

“How much she’s been droolin’ over me all night.”

‘She’ meaning your unfucked cunt, of course.

Joel then punctuated his sentence with a particularly hard press of his palm—forcing you to lay flat on the steering wheel, hips tilted back to him. With just one callused finger of his other hand, he found you soaked between your folds. He dragged it from your clit to your aching hole, and you heard him sigh, as though sad.

“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Joel said. Lamenting.

You were almost lost to the sensation of his finger rubbing you up and down, but somehow, you managed, ‘W-W-What is, Joel?’ in between soft, plaintive sounds.

Sometimes you forgot how much older he was than you. Sometimes you said he was just like the boys your age. Other times he had you pinned like this, breaths calm and cruelly measured while you damn near came apart beneath his hand, and then you remembered everything.

“You just couldn’t wait ‘til we got home,” he grumbled.

Using the same hand he’d been stroking you with, Joel laid a quick slap to your cunt, and you jumped. Your head narrowly missed the roof of his truck; still, you groaned.

“‘M’sorry, Joel,” you keened.

You weren’t. The old man knew you weren’t.

The hand that had been splayed over your back sank in. The force of that push pressed your belly to the chipped Ford logo at the center of the steering wheel, and with the added pressure went the blare of the car’s horn.

The sound might’ve lasted two seconds before you scrambled back, desperate, into Joel’s broad chest. A couple old-timers making their way from the bar to their cars in the parking lot cocked their heads curiously in your direction a couple yards away. Seeing nothing of note, they lost interest just as quick and kept walking.

“Sorry for what?” Joel said.

At the moment, he didn’t seem to notice, or care, that his truck was parked a mere stone’s throw away from the Tipsy Bison, and bar-goers were milling freely between the building and the cars all around you. His belt unbuckled all the same, zip came down in a blink, and his thick, veiny, throbbing, and angry cock came to rest between your cheeks. He started to push you forward.

“Sorry for— for flirtin’ with Tommy,” you stammered, sucking in a breath when you felt him run the head of his cock between your lips. You could hear a soft squelch.

“And Lucien?”

“And Lucien.”

“And—”

“And Dieter, and Frankie, and Javi, and Marcus.”

Rattling off the names of all the men you’d been flirting with at the bar to make Joel jealous and take you back home to fuck you became an embarrassing chant.

“And?”

“…and Mayor Garcia,” you completed, sheepishly.

Back in there, you hadn’t been too proud to stoop to a politician’s level, even. That was how needy you’d been to get attention, and now Joel was giving it to you.

As hard as he could—he didn’t wait for the ‘OK’ before seating you on his cock. You were simply pulled back from the wheel and into his lap, onto his stiff erection, and before you could steady yourself, he started drilling.

“Even through these panties—” Joel tugged at the cream-colored cotton he’d easily slipped past, “—even through that slutty little skirt, I could feel how wet she was.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, and your hands found purchase in the torn-up leather of the seat, fisting strings and patches of fabric in a helpless sort of plea as Joel took over. With the buttons of his dark green flannel searing a stripe down your spine and his grey-speckled chin coming to nudge between your neck and your shoulder as he fucked you, you felt content. Secure.

Spilling more for him, then. Seeping rivers down the length of his shaft as he breached your walls and made you his all over again. And again. Leaving trails of arousal with every thrust, and rolling your head, limply, into his.

“She cryin’ for me?” Joel breathed, “Or somebody else?”

As if on cue, his cock hit the most sensitive ridge inside you, and you felt yourself gush even more. Dripping now.

“You.” Your voice was raw.

“Me?” Joel’s degradingly sweet.

Before you could answer ‘you’ once more, the driver’s door cracked open beside you both. For one panicked, terrifying second, you thought someone from the bar might’ve caught you two—then you were stunned to look over and see it was Joel’s own tough, steel-toed boot that had propped the door open to the cool night air.

The truck was facing the bar’s front door, shielded only by some foliage and a hatchback car about half its size. Other than that, you were exposed to whoever happened to pass by the big, bay window and take a look inside.

Joel felt you tense, and he pressed a kiss to you neck. Then he slid you carefully, almost tenderly, to the left until you were perched over the side of the seat with your legs dangling out of the truck—still filled to the hilt with his cock and pressed tight to the front of his chest.

“Cry a little more,” he urged.

Then, when your pussy gave an involuntary clench and drenched him some more, he slipped a hand around your front and started toying with your clit. Your gaze was wide, almost frightened as you stared ahead at the bar and saw patrons making rounds about the tiny place, fearing one might see you and Joel, but it felt so good. And wrong. And reckless, having this man who was easily decades your senior bouncing you up and down on his cock and letting you soil the front of his Wranglers.

“Pussy’s fuckin’ soakin’ me, pretty girl,” Joel let out a chuckle and gave your shoulder a playful bite when you pulsed around him again, “Squeezin’ me real tight, too.”

It was like your body was beyond your own control. You scarcely even realized your cunt had him gripped with such force, much less made a mess of his old denim. He just held you to him and kept pressing rough, stubbled kisses to your shoulder, reminding you over and over how sweet you were, how well you were taking him, how nice and tight and goddamn pretty that pussy must’ve looked gushing around daddy’s cock—maybe we can fuck in front’a the mirror so we can see it later, huh, baby?

You would’ve said yes to anything he said, you reckoned.

Especially when his arms moved over your front and you felt him grin, and he hugged you while he fucked you—nobody made you feel quite as special while they were splitting you open. Nobody’s balls felt quite as heavy and firm and full while hitting your ass by turns, and certainly no one but Joel could make you cum just as quick when he leaned into your ear and said, ‘Let go for me, darlin’.’

You did, and you felt his warmth follow inside you with the friction of just two more thrusts. Your head fell back on his shoulder, a moan clawed out of your throat, and the warm, euphoric feeling of release washed over your senses in waves, one trembling sensation after the next. Joel’s groans were quick to spill into your own, and, likewise emptying himself, he held your hips to his and made sure every drop stayed right where he wanted it.

His spend was always heavy, but this load felt larger than usual—like he’d been aching to fuck you full of his cum. Just as you both were coming down from your highs, you couldn’t help but key in on that soft, sticky warmth, likely to come oozing as soon as Joel pulled out of you.

In fact, you got to be so focused that you jumped when you felt something press to your cheek a second later.

It took another moment to register it as a kiss from Joel.

Then his tongue, dragging softly up the side of your face.

You started to laugh, about to ask him what the hell he was doing, when you felt a tear slip out of your other eye. With the sudden, sharp influx of pleasure, the moisture had leaked out without you even feeling it. Joel grinned.

He gave your cheek a light squeeze, wiped the other tear with the pad of his thumb, and kissed you again before mumbling in your ear, almost teasing as he said it:

“Crybaby.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men with a small-chested reader

Pairings: Toji x reader; Gojo x reader; Choso x reader; Nanami x reader; Sukuna x reader; Geto x reader

Word Count: 4,5k

Warnings: this is LONG so get seated; reader gets confronted with hate regarding small boobs so if that's not for you don't read, also this implies JJK men are into small boobs so if that triggers you don't read, smut mentioned in Toji's & Nanami's part, abusive ex relationship in Nanami's part, Gojo is a dick in Geto's part and in general I feel like this one isn't that great so sorry for all my Geto lovers out there I'm tired

Click here for the big-chested version

Toji Fushiguro

You can’t help but let yourself fall into his rough touch, enjoy the sensation of his body pressed against yours. How you ended up here? You couldn’t care less. Is it pretty bad to be minutes away from getting laid by your enemy? Maybe, but you don’t give a damn.

Until his hand yanks towards your breasts.

“N-No. Stop”, you whimper, pushing against his broad shoulders to get him off you.

“C’mon, what’s wrong babe? Don’t ya enjoy yourself?”, he purrs against your ear.

Oh god, just the sound of his deep voice lets your mind wander to places where it hasn’t been for ages, makes you arche your body towards him like a needy teenager.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

But just when he’s about to stretch his hand towards your chest again, you lift yourself off the couch so suddenly that you almost fall over. No, you just can’t do this.

Automatically, you cross your arms in front of your chest, eyes gazing down at the nothingness you hold. Since you can remember, you’ve got picked on for having small boobs. Oh, how desperately you waited throughout whole puberty for them to finally grow, how much you secretly begged for those delicious female curves you’ve seen all over media and anime. But every time you look into the mirror, you are greeted by basically nothing. If a man like Toji would see you like this. God, if he only touches your breast and realizes that your décolleté comes from nothing but a push up bra…

It’s impossible for a man like him to find a woman like you attractive. Why were you even stupid enough to consider a one-night stand with him, when looks are the only thing that really counts? If he sees you’ve been lying into his face, that you don’t look like those girls on magazines…

Would he make fun of you? The disappointed look on his face as soon as he unclips your bra would be too much to handle alone.

“I can’t do this. Sorry”, you mumble, fingers frantically straighten your clothes.

Just forget about what happened today. Get home, take off your bra and stare at the ceiling. You don’t need a man to satisfy your needs anyway…right?

He grabs you by your waist so suddenly that you aren’t even able to react when his other hand unclips your bra and pulls up your shirt.

You fail to breathe, glossy eyes staring into his unbothered face in sheer disbelief. Did that man just expose your whole chest within the blink of a second?

“Why are you actin’ all shy, huh? Those are some nice tits”, he speaks out with a sly grin.

“I…”

You are lost at words, lost at thoughts, lost at sight. This man is walking sex himself. Damn, he could probably pull any girl on this planet. But no, he decided to get into your apartment and he just said that��Your breasts look good?

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting all day for that”, he signs.

His usual so rough fingers cup your breasts gently, swallow them whole with ease. Toji’s eyes are completely fixated on the sensation between his fingertips, how your warm flesh feels against his palms.

“I thought you…you aren’t into…small boobs”, you moan, closing your embarrassed eyes to shield yourself from his intense stare.

“I’m a man of culture”, he comments.

Oh, you can tell he’s grinning like he always does. Slowly but surely everything seems to fade away. All the dumb comments about your body, all the times you looked into the mirror and blankly stared at your flat chest. No, everything that counts now is that the force of a man standing in front of you clearly enjoys your sight, that your boobs alone are enough bring a grown man onto his knees, to make him whimper against your heated skin and the bulge in his pants grow with every second.

“Fuck, I need ya”, he hisses.

Toji pully your top over your head before you’re even able to think straight. There he stands, his hand unzipping his pants in slow motion while you gaze up at him panting like a dog.

“I’ll show you how much I’m into you, babe…”

Gojo Satoru

You look yourself up and down in the mirror, mind raising. It’s your third date with none other than the Satoru Gojo. The men who turns women’s heads on a regular basis, the men who invited you into the most exquisite restaurant of the city, the man who even sent you a dress for the occasion. A jaw-dropping gorgeous black dress with a delicate waterfall neckline, just the right fit for a man like him.

But not with your flat chest. The fabric seems to hang on your body like a potato sack, filled by nothing but thin air. And because of the cursed deep back, you aren’t even able to wear a push up bra underneath. Fuck, what are you supposed to do? The more you stare at yourself in the mirror, the worse it seems to fit. Satoru chose this dress only for you. There’s absolutely no way in hell you’ll wear something else, that you disappoint him like that. But do you have another option?

You let yourself fall onto your bed, eyes darting to your phone. Shit, you have only 10 more minutes left before he gets her. How are you supposed to fix this? Will Satoru be disappointed? You never wore tight or unflattering clothes around him before, always hid your smaller chest well behind casual sweatshirts or push up bras. But this…You aren’t able to hide anything in this.

Will be there in 5. Can’t wait to see you in that dress &lt;3

Oh god, you feel like throwing up when reading his message. Everything went so well between the both of you, so unproblematic and genuinely fine. But are you even good enough for Satoru Gojo when he’s surrounded by so many beautiful women? Your hands wander up your stomach, come to a stand on your chest. No, you definitely can’t keep up with Mei Mei and the others. Will he lose interest in you after tonight? Will his facial expression drop the second he lays eyes on you in that dress?

Your palms get sweaty, mind overwhelmed by all those venomous thoughts.

“Fuck, don’t cry”, you hiss to yourself, angrily blinking into the mirror.

The doorbell rings.

Your heart drops.

Shit.

Didn’t he say 10 minutes?

Your feet carry you to your front door automatically, the tall frame of none other than Satoru clearly visible outside. No, why is he here? You didn’t have enough time to think about a solution, didn’t even try on that sticky bra you’ve bought a few months ago-

He rings again. There is no way of out this now. Like in slow motion, your shaky hand presses down the door handle, exposes yourself further and further to Satoru.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, (y/n)”, Satoru comments jokingly.

Hot tears slowly but surely start to take your sight while you stand there like an idiot, covering your chest with your arms. This will be the moment Satoru realizes you aren’t playing in his league, that he can do so much better. What was he thinking anyway, starting to date a girl like you?

“You look absolutely hot in that dress. Oh my god…”, he breathes out.

“Don’t lie to me”, you mumble.

No, you can’t take it. With a swift motion you turn yourself away from his gaze, away from his presence.

“What? I would never lie to you! Hey, are you cryin’? (y/n), look at me.”

Gently, he cups your face with both of his hands, forces you to get lost in the blue ocean of his eyes.

“I’m not doing justice to the dress you’ve gifted me”, you breathe out.

Satoru has to blink a few times, mind trying to process what the hell you are talking about. The minute you opened the door earlier, he was lost. You looked exactly how he imagined, so well-fitted into that black dress, your curves so delicious that it takes all his strength to keep his composure.

“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen and I’m serious about that. Why would you think something so ridiculous? Look at your-“

“I’m flat”, you finally snap.

“Flat?”, he repeats in disbelief.

“Flat like a pancake. Flat like a board. I…I have nothing!”, you blurt out.

Satoru can’t believe his ears, has to stare at you in sheer disbelief for a moment. Is this why you’re crying, why you’re crossing your arms in front of your chest like that? Because you think that…your breasts are too small?

“C’mon, you can’t be serious about that.”

He desperately waits for a reaction, for a cute little giggle coming out of your mouth and this being nothing but a prank. But instead, you just stand there in silence and hide yourself even more.

“Okay, let me get that straight: You.Look.Gorgeous. I can’t stop fucking looking at you, that dress fits you so well and when I saw that neckline for the first time…I’m only saying this before you force me to, okay? I’m thirsting over you like a teenager, (y/n)! And I adore every inch of your body, I adore the way your tits look.”

“Stop”, you mumble, his words making shivers run down your spine.

“I won’t stop until you say it.”

“Say what?”, you question, confusion written on your face.

“Repeat after me: I have nice tits.”

Is he serious? You drop your arms to the side, completely bamboozled by the Satoru Gojo in front of you.

“Let’s do it, (y/n)!”

“I have…nice tits”, you breathe out.

“I can’t hear you”, he shouts.

Gently, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you a little. What the hell is going on right now? His smile seems contagious, makes the corners of your mouth turn upwards just the slightest bit.

“I have small tits”, you giggle out.

“NO!”, he screams.

“I have nice tits!”

“I have nice tits”, you shout back.

“Yes, now…Can I touch them?”

“Let’s get going, okay?”, you mutter, head red like a tomato.

Choso Kamo

“What are you doing, (y/n)?”

A high shriek escapes your lips when you look at Choso standing in the door. Fuck, what the hell is this guy doing here while you tried on that bikini you’ve bought earlier?

“Oh, that looks good”, he comments and nods towards your chest.

God, you feel like fainting. Out of all people, why does it have to be Choso standing there? And why do you feel so damn insecure all of the sudden? It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High that you have a huge crush on Yuji’s bigger brother, that you can’t take your eyes off him. And while you feel pretty comfortable in your own skin, there is this one thing that makes you trip over and over again…

Your breasts.

You didn’t even notice until your female friends began to comment on the size of your boobs when you changed for sport lessons.

“You look like a child, (y/n)!”

“Omg, are you sure that’s normal?”

“You’re a board with nipples…”

“I’m so sorry for you, (y/n)! After all, all boys are into big tits these days! Well, at least you have a good character.”

And still, you didn’t even care that much. But now, with Choso Kamo standing in front of you while you wear nothing but a bikini top instead of your oversized uniform, you feel trapped.

“Well, thanks I guess”, you mumble, cheeks heating up in an instant.

He steps a little closer, eyes narrowed. Oh god, when is this finally over?

“Why are you looking so uncomfortable?”

“Well, maybe because I’m half naked-“

“I can tell it’s not because of that. Are you insecure?”

Fuck, this man reads you like an open book without mercy. For an incarnated curse, he’s way too emphatic.

“I wouldn’t say it like that but…I mean, look at me.”

“Is it because your breasts are smaller than those of the other female members of Jujutsu High? This doesn’t seem like an issue to me at all, (y/n). After all, breasts are mostly made of adipose tissue. Depending on your fat storage and how your body-“

“Oh god, please stop right now”, you interrupt him.

May the ground swallow you whole and keep you. How on earth did you get into a serious talk about your small chest with none other than Choso Kamo? And why does he know all those things about how women’s breast work?

“You seem to know quite a lot about women’s boobs. Did you study them or something?”

Why does your heart suddenly feel so heavy? It shouldn’t bother you that he talked about those things as if he looks at other women’s tits on a regular basis. But…You fell for him because he seemed like a guy who doesn’t care about those things. Were you mistaken about him?

“Not at all! But I overheard you talking to that other woman about the size of your breast and that you don’t feel comfortable about them, so I did research about this topic.”

Oh. Your heart stops beating for a second, your mind going blank. He did research because he overheard your conversation with Shoko?

“You did that…for me?”

“You’re important to me and I don’t want you to feel sad about something minor like this, (y/n).”

You stare at him like an idiot, still only covered only by a bikini top while all he does his holding your gaze in silence.

“What I want to say is that…You are absolutely beautiful. And so are your breasts-”

“Okay, this is getting a little out of hand. Would you mind if I…Change into something a little more modest?”, you interrupt him before you lose your composure completely.

“Of course!”

Choso doesn’t move. Instead, he just stands there like before and looks at you.

“Would you…Get out so I can change?”

“Oh…Yes, of course.”

Nanami Kento

You can’t help but stare at him through the dim moonlight, hands wrapped around his neck. Oh, he sure feels good pressed against your body so tenderly, his breath caressing your cheek ever so slightly. Kento and you have been together for a few months now, taking things slow since your last relationship was like a trip to hell and back. And even though you are fully aware of the fact that Kento would never treat you badly, you still need time for certain things.

And these certain things contain him seeing you naked. Just one glance into the mirror is hard to bear, especially when it comes to your small chest. You simply hate the way they look, how they ruin every single outfit, how they make you look like a child. No matter what gorgeous gown you’re wearing, you never feel like a woman, like someone worth to be looked at. But still, Kento caresses every curve of your still dressed body carefully.

“You look absolutely stunning in moonlight, darling”, he hushes against your ear.

You love this man with all your heart. How he treats you with way more kindness than a single human would ever deserve, how he makes you feel good about yourself without even knowing. Kento Nanami picks up the pieces of your past and puts you back together like a complicated puzzle. Slowly and steady, step by step.

A whimper escapes your lips, the sensation of his fingertips brushing against your covered skin simply drives you insane. Oh, how much you adore that man, how much you admire him for making you feel so alive. Suddenly his plain touch doesn’t feel like enough anymore. You need him even closer, want to feel him even better.

“Please, take this off”, you mumble against his lips.

Kento stops in his tracks for a second, eyes staring at you intensively in your dark bedroom.

“Are you sure? I told you I can wait”, he reminds you gently while pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

Are you sure? You didn’t let a man touch you after your ex, after all those nasty things he said about your body. Especially your small chest.

“Don’t you wanna get these things…y’know, fixed or something?”

“Leave your shirt on or I’ll turn off the light, these things turn me off...”

You hate how his stupid comments still haunt you even after all those years, despite the fact that you’re laying in the arms of none other than the epitome of a gentleman. Until today, you never allowed your boyfriend to take off your shirt, to even take a single glance in the direction of your exposed chest. But today feels different. With his eyes filled with nothing but affection, you finally feel ready.

“I don’t want you to wait. Please, take off my shirt”, you whisper into the night.

“Tell me to stop when you feel uncomfortable.”

You nod slightly, too occupied by the way his hands carefully wander down to the hem of your shirt, eyes fixated on yours. Your heartbeat picks up in an instant. Out of excitement, out of fear? You glance into his gleaming orbs that are filled with nothing but love. No, you don’t have to fear this man. But still…Will he like what he sees?

“You know I don’t have…I don’t have nice boobs. They are quite small…”, you suddenly blurt out.

“(y/n), you are the love of my life, my precious girlfriend. Every fiber of your being is way more than ‘nice’. I adore every inch of your gorgeous body”, he replies so softly that you feel like tearing up.

As if in slow motion he pulls up your shirt, reveals inch by inch of your naked skin until he pulls the fabric over your head.

You take a deep breath, try to read his face in the dim light. Is he disgusted, does he even look at you? Maybe he’s regretting his decision, maybe he finds you just as ugly as your ex did-

“You are so beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off you”, he hushes.

Kento Nanami stops your train of thoughts before you get lost in yourself, quiets the stinging voice of your ex-boyfriend inside your head.

Kento thinks you’re beautiful. Kento’s hand caresses your naked skin, gently cups your breast while he never fails to gaze at you.

“I love you, (y/n). In fact, I am the one lucky to have you. Thank you for putting your trust and love in me.”

“You…I love you so much, Kento.”

You can’t contain yourself any longer. Without hesitation, you pull your boyfriend’s face even closer, press your desperate lips against his. What a treasure he is, lifting you up without even realizing how much his words heal your soul.

If a man like Kento Nanami is able to love your small breasts than maybe, just maybe, you’ll start doing that as well.

Ryomen Sukuna

“There’s no way in hell”, you press out, groaning in scorching pain.

“Do you have a death wish or are you just dumb, woman? You know you’ll die if you don’t take off that uniform, right?”, Sukuna remarks dryly.

“I would rather die than taking off my shirt in front of…you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Sukuna can’t help but stare at you in sheer disbelief. Surprisingly enough, he decided to save your ass instead of using his time more efficiently. And now you’re laying in front of him, a gaping hole inside your chest, he offered to save your life.

And you, dumbass of the century, refuse to get saved by none other than the king of curses himself.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you really wish to die so badly?”

“I…I don’t want to die!”, you blurt out.

Fuck, how did you get yourself into that situation? Bad enough that you’ve got hit by that curse right into your chest, even worse that the king of curses himself appeared and wants to help you. But the worst thing is that you need to take your shirt off.

It is ridiculous and you know it. This is not the time to be insecure about your small tits. No, this is absolutely not the time to even think about shit like that. But the sheer thought of Ryomen Sukuna seeing your flat chest alone makes you rather die than letting that happen. No, the last thing you want is him making fun of you.

“Then why are you acting like a child? Hold still. You strange human, I should kill you right on the spot. Good for you I still have use for someone this skilled. You impressed me earlier.”

Under normal conditions, you’d feel some kind of pride over his words. But with death whispering in your ear and the stinging fact that his hands begin to bottom up your shirt….

You freak out.

“GET YOURSELF AWAY FROM ME!”, you scream pathetically, hands fighting so poorly against his that he catches your flying fists mid-air.

“Stop beating me before I’m losing it, brat”, he barks at you.

Just one more button. One more button and you’ll be completely exposed to him. The king of curses, seeing your small boobs.

“DON’T LOOK AT MY BOOBS!”

“What?”

He can’t believe his ears. This can’t be the reason why you pull up this fight. No, there’s absolutely no way in hell you’re acting like this because you’re ashamed of him seeing your breasts.

“Please…Don’t look at my boobs…”

The king of curses just stares at you emotionless.

“Who do you think you are to tell me what to do, woman?”

His gaze wanders right down to your bloody chest. You are rather flat chested, but oh you look delicious. Too delicious to take his eyes off you, too delicious to think about saving you. He never hunted after women, was never interested in all those big-chested females with their neck-line hanging to the ground. But you…This looks pleasant.

“Delightful”, he finally speaks out.

Too late for you to hear before your hand smacks roughly into his face.

“I SAID DON’T LOOK!”

“I SAID YOU LOOK DELIGHTFUL YOU LITTLE BITCH!”

“YOU…You what?”

Geto Suguru

Geto can’t help but stare at you, how your hips swing from side to side, how you wear your cute summer dress so easily. Not only the scorching heat of this summer day, but your sight as well make him feel light-headed.

“Staring again, Suguru?”, his best friend teases him in an instant.

“How could I not stare at her. She looks gorgeous in that dress”, he replies, not able to take his eyes off you.

“But she has no tits.”

You wish you didn’t hear those words leaving Satoru’s mouth, wish you could just giggle like a little girl and let your heart beat out of your chest because Suguru said you look gorgeous. But the second the meaning of his saying hits you, you stop in your tracks.

The stinging fact that your breasts are smaller than those of any other women at Jujutsu High and all those popular girls was always hard to bear for you. But with Suguru by your side, with his words sweeter than honey, you slowly but surely began to feel comfortable in your own skin again. Instead of oversized shirts, you started to wear dresses from time to time, bought the one you’re wearing right now with a slight neckline.

All that, only for your confidence to get crushed by that single comment.

You can’t contain yourself anymore. Without even trying to pretend you didn’t hear his venomous words, you turn on your heel and sprint down in the direction of your dorm. How stupid it was to even consider that a man like Suguru would actually like you back. After all, Satoru is his best friend, it’s clear that you look nothing like the girls they usually hang out with. Maybe your small chest isn’t enough for him…

Tears take your sight completely as you run straight to your room.

“(y/n), wait!”

No, not him. Not right now. Your heart almost drops to the floor when you hear his footsteps close behind you. If Suguru tries to cheer you up right now, you might break down completely.

“Hey, please wait for me.”

Gently, he grabs your wrist and spins you around.

“Let go of me”, you hiss, yanking your arm away out of instinct.

You don’t want to get touched by him, to even see him. God, you were really stupid enough to think that this man with the most tender eyes you’ve ever seen would actually like you back.

“Satoru fucked up with that comment. Hey, look at me. I know he made these comments before and I know you’ve had a hard time because of those stupid comments at school. But I’m here to tell you that I love you just the way you are, (y/n) …God, I love you with all my heart, I love you wearing those dresses, I love the way you move, I love the way you look. And it might sound totally weird, but I love your boobs. I’m…I’m obsessed with you.”

You have to blink a few times, try to process what just happened. Within a few minutes, you’ve heard your crush complimenting you, his friend insulting you for having small breasts and now Suguru is standing in front of you again, confessing his love for you and…your boobs?

“You don’t have to say those things to make me feel better”, you try to brush him off.

“I’m saying this because I mean it, (y/n). And I’ll kick his ass for saying something so stupid about you. When it comes to women, Satoru and I are the opposite of each other”, he explains briefly.

Oh, you are fully aware of the fact that Satoru Gojo hunts after every woman with cups bigger than your head. But something about the way Suguru stands in front of you, how his eyes literally beg you to believe him…

“I have enough of people judging me for something I can’t change”, you warn him.

“I don’t want to change a single hair on your body, (y/n).”

Slowly but surely, your eyes stop to burn in agony, your heart stops to ache, your body wakes up from its trance.

“So…you’re into small chested girls? Why am I supposed to believe this?”

Without wasting another minute Suguru steps forward, engulfs your body. And with one last glance into your widen eyes, he presses his lips against you’re the way he always imagined it.

“Is this proof enough?”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings@sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly   @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp@wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @yukiotacon @satoreo

Gorgeous divider by @saradika 🤍

[sideblog-ver3]

big dick steve (18+)

spider webs and vampire boobs

“if you were to throat fuck me, i’d probably vomit from my gag reflex.”

the rustling of steve moving his head on his cotton pillow filled the quiet room. “what the hell are you talking about?” his voice holding a bit of thickness in the back of his throat.

now you turned your head from staring at the ceiling to look at steve on your left. “well cause you have a big dick-“ “thanks for the ego inflation.”

you teasingly smack a hand into steve’s chest, he held it down with his own limb. “i can barely take half of you when going at my own speed. and i was just thinking about how when you put your hands on my head and give me a little push, i worry i might vomit. i’ve had girlfriends tell me it’s happened to them before. and if that were to happen to me i’d ask you to kill me right on the spot.” all seriousness coating your words.

steve’s big brown eyes stared you down as his bushy brows rose at your last sentence. your linked hands gently rising and falling with steve’s even breathing. “first, you’re being extra dramatic. second, if you even feel that way when i get more…forceful, you should smack my thigh or something. don’t just take it.”

you pushed up to your elbow and halfway leaned over steve, bed head framing your face, “no, yeah, i know that. you aren’t like forcing me all the way so i’m fine, but something i just think about those guys in porn. you know?” a squint to your eyes trying to determine is steve understands what you mean.

now steve pushing onto his elbow with a similar squint, “what kind of porn are you watching? and why?”

a painted finger traced over steve’s hairy chest, “nothing crazy. and it’s mostly just for inspiration. that one trick i did yesterday, got it from porn. and you seemed quiet pleased if i remember correctly.” smirking as you leaned forward to peck at steve’s rosy lips.

he hummed in content, “and i absolutely did. but anyway, why don’t we train you. if you want we can prep your throat better.” a palm rubbing at your bicep comfortingly.

“anything to suck your dick, baby.” already shuffling your way down his body and pulling away his comforter.

his bare lower body was a delicious sight to behold. dark hairy thighs on display, your mind wanting to bite into them. his thick, long cock starting to move on its own, going from soft to hard in a minute.

“excited for my training?” a teasing tone with seductive eyes directed towards steve who laid back down, hands folded behind his head. a cocky smirk tugging his lips. “anything involving you gets me excited quickly.”

“just don’t get too excited. gonna need your cock for a while, baby.” planting your hands to his thighs while positioning yourself.

“take all the time you need.”

you leaned closer to steve’s cock, allowing a small glob of spit to drip from your mouth. his dick twitching at the sensation. steve moaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut and mouth opening in a small gasp.

moving in for the action, you swiped the flat of your tongue to the underside of his dick, going from his hairy balls to the top. hungry eyes watching steve’s every reaction, it only spurred you on for more.

“just getting started, baby.” finally wrapping your right hand onto his cock, fingertips not touching. you started with slow strokes, using your spit for lube.

steve quietly whined with each stroke, his stomach flexing to control himself. seeing that his cock was fully hard, now was the time to begin. sticking your tongue out, you kitten licked at the tip a few times, enjoying the twitch of reaction from the wet muscle.

“baby- fuck-“ a groan cutting steve off as you opened your mouth and took about four inches confidently. lips wrapping around the skin as you bobbed your head, right hand stroking at the lonely bits.

steve moved his hands from behind his head to sit on his torso. one touching his v-line while the other traveled to sit in your hair. you couldn’t help but stare at his long fingers, digits that fuck your cunt or get stuffed into your mouth and you happily suck on them.

slowly you pushed yourself forward, gaining another three inches. only about two more and you have him completely sitting in your mouth. his cock was heavy on your tongue, saliva slipping from the sides of your mouth.

you pulled away quickly when you felt the telltale sign of a gag. you coughed a bit when your throat was free, spit falling to land on your chest.

“not- not bad, but you could do better, doll.” steve grabbed a fist full of hair and tugged. a signal to show what he was about to do.

“yes, daddy.” allowing for steve to guide your mouth back to his awaiting cock. with a bit more force he shoved your head down onto him, nose almost brushing with his bush of pubes.

“atta girl.” he purred with his head thrown back and hips bucking up, tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

you closed your eyes and just focused of the feel and weight of him. letting your tongue toy with his underside and nails dig into the meat of his thighs. you took slow inhales through your nose, calming yourself and relaxing your throat.

giving yourself a minute of composure, you started to bob your head back before going in. out and in, out and in, out and in. more drool pooling from your filled mouth, soaking steve’s dick nicely for easily traction.

“al- almost there. swallow or spit?” steve looked down at you with a fucked out face. teary eyes just stared back up to him and you didn’t budge an inch.

“swallow. good girl.” steve took back some rein and pushed your head down as he fucked his hips up. you moaned in pleasure at the sensation, both from the grip on your hair and the roughness in your mouth.

“i’m- i’m gonna…” shots of warm liquid hit the back of your throat. you hummed on his dick, his groaned at the action.

steve released your hair and you slowly pulled off his cock, wanting to lick it clean of his cum, humming to yourself at the salty taste.

“see, all we had to do was train you.”

[billysgun]

hand holding

billy the kid x virgin!reader 18+|requested!|your perfect first time with billy as he passionately and softly shows how much he loves you|

his warm chest presses into yours, blue eyes sparkling as the candle-lit room dims each second with night swallowing the small town

"are you sure?" he whispers, his finger circling your palm as you nod slowly

"yes, I'm sure" you say, trying to keep your excitement at bay

he smiles, looking over your face before moving to your neck and collarbones,

"I'm going to kiss every inch of you" he honestly whispers, you feel giddy as the gunslinger keeps one hand interlocked with yours while the other one teases your first button

"like here," he said, dipping down to kiss your collarbone while simultaneously removing the first button

"and here" pop another button comes undone as he kisses your neck

"...here" the valley of your breast is now in view and you feel your breath become shallow as he slowly exposes you, he kisses your chin and removes another button to kiss your cheek

as another kiss is laid on your forehead and nose, he's at the last button. and as he removes your shirt, releasing your breasts, he kisses your lips

"you're beautiful" he tells you, his thumb rubbing the hand that's holding his as he kisses down your stomach, reaching your pants.

he swiftly yanks your pants and suddenly you're in your thin bloomers and he tickles the rim of them with his fingertips

"gonna remove 'em now, love" he talks you through, slowly pulling them to reveal your center. you close your eyes, feeling your slick already at your thighs as he brings the interlocked hand to rest on your tummy

"keep holdin' on to me" he whispers, lifting your legs to spread them open as your wetness shines prominently

"fuck, darling" he mumbles to himself, looking up at you only to see your eyes still closed. he quickly brings his free hand to your chin to gently guide your face to his

"I need you to be lookin' at me the whole time. need to make sure you're alright" he tells you, you almost forget to speak at the sight of him between your thighs but you manage to say,

"I will, billy."

he smiles, letting his hand rest on your thigh and giving an encouraging squeeze to the other one

"I'm gonna try somethin" he starts,

"to make sure you're ready for me. if it's too much, let me know"

you nod and he experimentally licks your slit, you surprise yourself with a moan and he grins

he does kitten licks at your center before moving up, wrapping his lips around your clit and you squeal

he calms you down with a few flicks of his tongue before using his fingers to go up and down your center, blue eyes trained on you.

"sweetheart, I'm gonna add a finger" he rests his forehead on your spread thighs as his ring finger slowly sinks into you, waiting until you nod before gradually pumping it into you

your heart quickened at the sensation, he leans to lick your clit as he speeds his finger up

you squeeze his hand and lock yourself around his finger, almost twisting your eyes shut at the feeling of all your senses being stroked but keeping them open to see his tongue repeatedly flicking your bud as your hips swirled around

"tell me when you're ready for another one" he whispers, wild eyes staring as his lips wrap around you

"I'm ready" you moan, he grins and slowly adds his middle finger, once you feel like you can handle the new stretch he begins to expertly pump them

your back arches up and billy began to hump the bed softly, pants tight as his erection became painful

"I need to taste you." he growls, curling his finger as your legs shook

"billy!" you cried and his fingers slipped out of you, replacing them with his tongue as you came into his mouth. he hungrily laps at your core, flat tongue scooping all of your juices as you contort from the sensitivity

you tiredly pushed his head back and he kisses your thigh, rising up with a glossy chin he undoes his belt

his erection was extremely noticeable as he quickly removed all of his clothing, wiping his mouth before leaning toward you.

your eyes were wide at the sight of his cock, it stood proud with veins pumping and red tip leaking. he squeezed the hand you two still held before putting it above your head

your noses touched as you both tried to catch your breaths, his eyes stared into yours as he whispered,

"can I put it in, love?" his thumb went back to soothingly rubbing your hand as his other rested at your waist, you felt hot as his dick bumped into your stomach and you nodded,

"yes, billy." he softly kissed you as he lifted his hips and began to slowly sink into you, your nails dug into his hand at the feeling, he kissed your cheek before whispering in your ear,

"tell me if it's too much"

"o-okay"

he moved back up to rub his nose into yours, his smiling stretching his lips distracting you from the feeling, and soon he was inside of you.

"can I move, honey?" he asked, you felt full of him, even fuller with love as he kissed your nose.

"yes" you smiled, he moved back before inserting himself in again, the feeling made your entire body shiver as you unconsciously whined at the feeling

"fuck, I love you" he groaned, other arm bent next to your head as he rhythmically snapped his hips inside you, he moved to kiss you as he quickens his pace

"I love you, I love you, billy" you babble as your legs begin to shake, knowing the feeling all too well from moments before

"come on, sweetie. come on me" he whispered, your back arched as you squeezed him. he watched your face and his hips stuttered at the sight, he released himself inside you with your lips kissing and hands holding.

he kept himself above you as he panted softly, still inside of you and most of your fluids leaking out. he kissed you slowly as he removed himself and held you,

"you did amazing, love" he rubbed your back softly as you smiled at him, he moved to catch your lips

"now, let's run a bath before we melt into each other"

an: omg thank you so much for requesting this! i loved writing it sm <333

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

He’s been looking at you like this all day, all week — insatiable, hungry, like you’re his willing feast on any given day. So when he got you home and out of the Tuesday night Spring thunderstorm - Steve Harrington couldn’t wait to get you out of your clothing and spread out on his bed for him and him alone to play with. With his mouth doing this and his hands doing that, you were a sweaty pile of limbs atop his sheets in minutes flat.

A head of newly grown out tresses is where your fingers are currently purchased - tugging, pulling, occasionally scratching his scalp when your toes uncurl. His nose is at your navel now, hot breath on your pussy. He lets his tongue loll out and catch your clit in the faintest of licks. You find yourself meeting his pupil blown abyss the moment that he decides to press his calloused thumb into the hood of your clit, two other digits assisting in spreading you open in a crude squelch. It’s an automatic toss of your forearm over your head in embarrassment.

“No,” he says, a direct response, his arm elongating as his hand wraps over your forearm and retracts the limb from shielding your face. He waits until you’re looking directly at him once more before he continues. “you’re gonna watch me lick you, honey.”

You can’t form a response, a denial. Not when his hands suddenly find their way down your body, pushing beneath your thighs to slap your ass. Everything you do with Steve Harrington is intense. The give and take, what the other needs. How he holds onto you when you’re making love, like you’ll fall away, like he has to wear his entire heart on his furry torso for you to see — which wasn’t easy at first. The times he’s submissive or needs you, to him fucking you within an inch of another supernatural world, and times like now…

Making you really feel what you do to him, being laid out as his personal toy — one that he loves and cherishes, of course. But it is playtime, after all, and he’s had that simmering look pooled beneath the burning moss embers of his irises for a solid month now.

With pink, plump, kiss swollen lips — he’s descending back between your spread thighs and burying his tongue in your cunt. He moans, reaching for your hips and squeezing, moaning, slurping, driving your thigh into shaking against his stubble bitten jawline. You aren’t prepared for your own arousal to stretch from your pussy to his mouth and nose on the breakaway. You begin to apologize immediately, starting to raise. Steve barely has time to moan appreciatively, meeting you chest to chest, his chain tickling your skin.

You’re still shivering, body on fire with the need for a quench.

“Baby, don’t do that. Please don’t be upset. You wanna know how much I love this?”

“Hmm,” is your soft response.

He runs a finger down your nose, leaning in to pant the words across your mouth. “Look down at my cock, honey. Do I look like I’m not enjoying myself?”

His pretty cock is so hard and hanging between his trim hips, balls full and heavy that you know it’s hurting him not to be inside of you right now. He smirks and slithers his way back, taking a little more from you, catching you below your lower back with a splayed palm, just as you go to recline. It’s seconds later and he’s reuniting with you, another instruction tipping off his lips. “Open your mouth. Taste yourself off of me, babygirl.”

“Babygirl?” You whisper, tears wilting in your lash line from the pleasure he’s giving you. “That’s a new one.”

Steve remarks you fondly, his fingertips brushing over your neck. “Well that’s what you are, aren’t you? My babygirl?”

You nod, his tongue sliding right into your open mouth, your taste mingling with his kiss, your new favorite aphrodisiac.

[pandoraslxna]

ok but w step bro! neteyam w/ “just the tip” 👀

Infected

Stepbro Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: While on a hunt with your stepbrother Neteyam, he comes in contact with something that makes him act… strange.

Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (means they’re not siblings related by blood, reader is adopted!), aged up characters, sex pollen, mild dub-con, dry humping, p in v, quickie, semi-public, creampie

Notes: gif made by the amazing @eclipseatsea <3 Anyways, I wrote this in one sitting wtf??🧍🏻‍♀️

Na‘vi translations:

Thanì - little star

Neteyam is hot. No, not that kind of hot— I mean yes, that kind too, but right now he feels hot. Feverish even.

His skin is glistening in a thin layer of sweat, breathing slightly uneven and rapid and eyes almost fully blown. The yellow of his iris has decreased into a thin ring around his pitch black pupils.

You hastily blurt the information of your stepbrothers condition into your throat comm, pacing back and forth in worry. Occasionally, you glance back at Neteyam, who was barely able to hold himself up on his feet, his back now resting against a tree trunk. Every time you looked at him over your shoulder, he seemed to slide further down the trunk, until he was finally sitting down on the ground. His eyes were still glued on you the whole time, following your every movement. You saw the way his nose scrunched and his ears laid flat against his head, his tail trashing against the ground behind his back and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought that he was still hunting.

"Sweetheart, listen", Jakes voice finally snapped you out of your thoughts, "That sounds like he’s been infected with something. Did you two touch or eat anything strange? Got stung by something?"

"No? I- I don’t know, dad, I really don’t", you sigh, "How much longer until you’re here?"

"Twenty… maybe thirty minutes." Not before the eclipse starts, you think, chewing on your bottom lip as the anxiety grows worse. "Make sure he doesn’t fall asleep until I’m there and try to get him some water."

"Yes, yes okay, alright." You nod, even though he couldn’t see it. "Please hurry."

"Breathe, don’t panic, babygirl. It’s going to be alright, I’m sure it’s nothing bad", your stepfather reassures you and the soothing tone in voice actually helps you calm down a bit. "Check him for any stings, wounds or other injuries, okay? And if you find anything, report it back to me."

"Yes, sir."

You tried to focus on that order, because if you were to think even for one second about anything else, you would’ve lost your composure once and for all. Immediately after the line went dead, you turn back to Neteyam. He’s still sitting there, silent, unmoving, just looking at you.

"Dad will be here soon", you mumble, more to comfort yourself than him, as you step closer. "He said I need to check you for injuries."

There’s the slightest movement, barely even a nod from Neteyam as you kneel down in front of him, giving you permission to touch him. With shaky fingers and your heart pounding inside your chest hard enough to break your ribs, you reach out for his hands. You feel his palms first, then his wrist, but nothing. Your hands move further up, checking his arms, shoulders, his chest. Your mouths feels dry, but again, you can’t find anything. Not even a splinter or the tiniest scratch. He seems completely fine. You would’ve thought that there was nothing wrong with him, if it wasn’t so obvious that there was clearly something very wrong with him.

It’s when you’re about to check his back, shuffling closer and leaning forward for a better view, that he suddenly pulls you by your wrists and makes you straddle his lap. The air around you both felt electrifying now, every one of your senses coming alive all at once. You gasped his name in surprise, your face turning bright red from the intimate position you found yourself in, with both of his arms encircled tightly around your middle.

It’s been a while since someone was last this close to you and you couldn’t help but notice every single inch of bare skin that was now touching yours. Your thighs on his, his arms around your middle, your hands on his chest—

But then Neteyam hisses through clenched teeth and buries his face in the crock of your neck and it immediately snaps you back to the fact that your stepbrother was sick. He was sick or injured or eywa knows what he was going through, but it seemingly caused him this much pain and distress, that he was seeking comfort in you.

Cause that’s what it was, right? That’s why he pulled you into his lap. Right?

"A-Are you in pain?"

What a stupid question, you thought, face scrunching up in embarrassment. Of course he was, you knew that already. But what else were you supposed to say to him? You just had to say something, because sitting in a position like this with someone you considered family and not saying anything would’ve made this even more awkward than it already was.

"Hmh", Neteyam only hums. His breath is warm against the skin of your throat, a constant reminder of how close he was to you like this.

"Where?"

Why did that even matter? Maybe you thought, hoped, that he could show you where, that he would point to somewhere and help you understand what was wrong with him.

Well, lucky for you, that’s exactly what he did. With his arms still wrapped around your middle, Neteyam pushed you down harder against his lap, his own hips rising just enough to grind his hard cock against your clothed cunt. "Right there", he groans lowly and in that moment, it felt like all the blood in your veins rushed straight to your head, making you feel dizzy with heat.

You don’t even know why, but instinctively, you try to push yourself off and away from him. Okay scratch that— you knew exactly why. It’s not that it didn’t feel good, it was the fact that it didn’t feel right. Neteyam was your stepbrother, someone you weren’t even supposed to touch like this! Whatever it was, that made him act the way he did, he surely wasn’t himself right now. He would’ve never… or would he?

You shake your head as if to shake the thoughts out of it, hands finding purchase on his shoulders and you attempt to lift yourself off of him again, but his arms hold you secured against him. "Stay. Please", Neteyam murmurs against your collarbone, "You make me feel better."

"I, uhm… I don’t think that’s a good ide—"

You’re interrupted by the sound of your own surprised squeak, when he suddenly lifts you up and quickly, probably a little too quick, lays you down against the ground with a thud. Your back was pressed against the soft grass now and his full body weight laid on top of you, his arms on either side of your head caging you in completely.

Your heart races, hammers against your ribs like a Fkio in a small cage. A new wave of heat spreads all over your body when Neteyam presses his nose against the skin of throat, inhaling as deep as his lungs could expand.

Your arousal and natural scent were so potent on his nose, it was making his mind hazy and his cock strained against his loincloth so tightly, he thought it would tear the fabric at any second. You were trying so hard to hide your own arousal, but he could smell you— could see your flushed face, hear your panting and feel how you tried to squeeze your thighs together, if it weren’t for his hips to be settled in between them.

Neteyam inhales again and his eyes flutter close. He does so, while he continues to grind his cock against your core. The outline of his length getting dragged over your folds and his tip bumping against your clothed clit makes you whimper softly, your noises only egging him on more.

"W-What are you doing?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. You sound so small and uncertain– uncertain if you could allow yourself to feel good, to enjoy this, despite the guilt of doing something so forbidden with him.

"I’m sorry. Feels better when i do that", Neteyam responds, burying his apologies into your skin, "Makes it hurt less." He doesn’t sound uncertain, or guilty for that matter. He sounds desperate, breathless. Like he’s holding himself back.

You could feel Neteyams tail wrap itself around your calf and his breath ghost over the shell of your ear, but then you shake your head and swallow thickly, like it pains you to say this, "You should… probably get off of me."

Not even a second passes, before you feel him grind himself between your thighs again, hard cock gliding over your most private parts, the fabric of your loincloths only adding further to the rough friction and you could feel the wetness pool right there, soaking the fabric.

"Sorry I just… I can’t think. Can’t stop." Neteyam whispers, sending a shiver throughout your entire body.

It was the truth. He had tried to downplay the effects so as not to worry you even more, but ever since he had accidentally inhaled that weird pink dust of this strange looking flower, the one he wanted to pick for you when you had your back turned to him, it had been hard to breath. His lungs, loins, skin, everything felt on fire.

The first touch of your hands on him, skin to skin, had felt like a mouthful of fresh water, cooling down his insides. The first relief he‘s had in hours.

But it still wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed you.

"It’s okay, i know you’re in pain but—"

You nearly moan, just barely managing to catch it before the sound leaves your throat, when he bumps against your clit again. The sounds he coaxed out of you made his blood boil inside his veins.

You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t supposed to feel good, that you were in the middle of the forest, that he was your stepbrother, that his father, your stepfather was on his way to your position, but eywa— eywa, does it feel good when he moves like this…

Neteyam growls into the crook of your neck, bucking his hips just a little harder against you, and it sounds strained, reflecting the state of his body perfectly. "Please, thanì, c‘mon. Fuck. Just the tip, please."

"Teyam, we… we shouldn’t. Dad– Dad will be here a-any minute now." It’s a weak attempt to try and reason him. You’re not even convinced to stop this yourself, if you were being completely honest with yourself. Biting your lip, you had to conceal another whimper from escaping, as he continues to hump you like he was experiencing his rut. At this point, you weren’t sure how much more you could take of this, without giving in to your desires— to his desires.

Neteyam should feel sick about this. He should feel sick about it, but all he could feel was the heat in his guts, the painful throbbing of his cock and the soft of your skin pressed tight against his body.

A warm breath tickles your throat once again, feeling Neteyam inhale and exhale deeply, nosing your skin as if he tried to imprint your scent on his nostrils.

"I‘ll be quick, I promise", he groans, "Eywa, you smell good, r-really good."

As his mouth wanders to your jawline, kissing and sucking, his forehead comes to rest against your cheek and you gasp. He’s burning, his skin feels like it’s been set aflame. This is worse than any fever, worse than any rut.

"O-Okay", you finally agree, all resolve shattering to pieces.

Neteyam moves quicker than you were expecting. One of his hands wedges itself between your bodies, hastily pulling your loincloth to the side, just enough to gain access where he needed to. There’s no time, it seems, no time to take it slow as he fumbles with his own loincloth, flicking the fabric up and out of the way, pulling his leaking cock out from under his coverings and lining himself up with your entrance. He really couldn't think anymore, not of any consequences, not with all the blood pounding through his angry cock, desperation clinging to his body, making his mind hazy and eyes half lidded.

When he pushes your legs up with his free hand, folding you nearly in half, you’re spread wide open for him to push inside, inch after inch. The stretch as he buries himself to the hilt drives every single thought, every worry, every ounce of guilt right out of your head. Neteyam moans, he moans loud and wanton and it’s a sound of relief followed by a deep groan rumbling in his chest.

You never imagined that there was so much space inside of you, but your stepbrother happily claimed all of it, every last bit.

Eywa help him if he doesn’t savor this, because he didn’t know the next time he’ll be able to do this again, if he was even ever allowed to. You’re warm and wet and soft and tight, so tight. Great mother, it felt like his mind was going into overdrive as he began to thrust into you.

His face was still buried into the space between your throat and shoulder and he didn’t plan on moving anytime soon. He’d stay like this forever if he could. Neteyam wants every single breath he takes to be filled with your scent from now on. Whatever it was, that made him act like this, it made him so painfully aware of how sweet his baby sister smelled. How good she tasted, when he ran his tongue over her pulse point and how incredible she felt, wrapped around his cock like a little sleeve made just for him.

"T-Teyam, f-fuck!", it’s a high-pitched whine, followed by a little punched out noise that doesn’t sound like anything that’s ever come out of your mouth before. His movements are jerky and rough, all for the purpose of chasing his own pleasure. The obscene squelching sound from him pounding into your pussy, mixed with streams of moans filled the air around you within seconds.

"Sorry, sorry, I’m— fuck, I’m sorry. You just feel so good, can’t slow down", Neteyam groans into your ear, his words being the complete opposite of his actions. The movement of his thrust are deep and fast, knocking the air from your lungs and causing your eyes to roll all the way back into your head. With the way he was hammering his cock into you, you could feel the mushroomy head of it kissing your cervix over and over again, pummeling against your g-spot on the way.

It’s okay, you want to say. You would, if you were still capable of forming any words on your tongue that weren’t just mewls and curses and brabbled nonsense.

Neteyam was surely aiming to fuck the very soul out of you like this. Your hands clawed at his back, nails digging into his skin and holding on for dear life as you felt your cunt turning into a gooey mess, thanks to the mixture of his pre-cum and your own slickness leaking out of you already.

"So good, feels so good, thanì", you hear him moan next to your ear, fangs grazing your skin as he licks and nibbles on your shoulder. "O-Oh fuck, you feel amazing. So wet and t-tight."

Between the thrill of being caught and Neteyams brutal pace, it didn’t take long for you to hit your peak. His cock expertly finds all the places you couldn’t reach yourself, all the spots that make pleasure curl your toes and starbursts explode behind your eyelids. Neteyam licks the sweat from your collarbones like it’s something to be savored, moaning at the feeling of you squeezing his cock like you were trying to milk him for all it’s worth.

"Teyam, Teyam I’m close, you’re gonna make me come!"

Right on cue, Neteyam hiked your leg up higher around his waist. The new angle allowed him even deeper access and you throw your head back at the new sensation. The second you felt his cock throb inside of you, your orgasm crashed down upon you like a sheet of ice– your legs squeezing around his waist, arms tightening around his neck so much that he had trouble breathing. But that didn’t stop him from fucking you like it was the only thing you were made for.

"Gonna.. haa fuck, I’m gonna cum inside you."

Neteyam feels his orgasm building like he’s been waiting for it for years, like someone had edged him, like he hasn’t had a release in forever and then it hits him like it never has before.

"Take it, shit, just take it, take my cum!"

He squeezes his eyes shut, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood, because if he didn’t, he would’ve latched onto your shoulder like a palulukan into its prey. His hips stutter, abs tensing and then he slams into you as deep as he could go, groaning your name as rope after rope of his cum fills you.

And then, the heat inside of him was gone.

As the last droplet of his seed was successfully pumped into you, Neteyam finally felt his head clear up and he came back to himself. The both of you stayed like that for just a moment, with him panting into your neck, both of you trying not to think about what you had just done.

When Neteyam finally pulls out of you, it’s gingerly, tenderly even, almost like he didn’t want to hurt you. As terribly sore and used as you felt, somehow there was a secret shard of happiness under it all. You wondered, if his coy smirk was any indication that he felt the same.

By the time Jake finally arrived, the only evidence of your sins was his cum dripping down your thighs, soaking the fabric of your loincloth.

[m0llygunn]

friends with b(aby)enefits (eddie munson x fem!reader)

MONTH ONE: Just friends—what a silly concept. After your accident, Eddie's been a full-fledged comedian, ill-conceived jokes left and right... neither of you are laughing though when his 'comedy routine' comes back to bite the both of you in the ass.

cw: 18+!, mature language, smut, pinv sex (unprotected again smh), pet names, vomiting, a lot of pregnancy related topics, potentially dramatized pregnancy symptoms (for the plot obvi, also idk anything about pregnancy), mention of readers period, mention of birth control an: lots of minor time jumps/cuts but we get some eddie pov!!! wc: 8.3k+

0 / 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 00

Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, both palms pressed flat to your belly.

“How are my girls doing today?”

Comically loud, heavily puckered kisses scattered over the top of your stomach, catching you by surprise— not at all expecting to be ambushed with facetious affection by your friend. 

Eddie thinks he’s a comedian. 

With about a month of his poor taste in jokes, he thinks he’s hilarious— and a self-proclaimed prophet because he 'just knows' that it's a baby girl. He's full of shit and you desperately try to not give him the benefit of finding his terrible jokes humorous. To your demise, from time to time, they get you.

His latest stunt was when he greeted you for your usual Friday get together. He swung the door open quick enough to stun you and immediately dropped to his knees. With a firm hold on your hips, he leaned in close to your belly, “Hi, baby girl. Did you miss daddy?” he cooed with big eyes and an even bigger smirk.

With a hand on his forehead, pushing him away, unfortunately you laughed, and unfortunately it feels like all of his jokes are coming back to bite the both of you in the ass. It’s hardly been 24 hours since the offending, but objectively funny joke, and neither of you are laughing now.

“Maybe you just ate something bad?” he offers with sheer, dumb, hope. “Or maybe it’s the flu?” he says, snapping his fingers together like he struck the gold mine of an idea.

Eddie can be as hopeful as he wants, but as you lower yourself down to the couch from vomiting your insides out in the bathroom, the panic in his eyes is evident.

“Maybe,” you reply dully, dropping your head to rest against the back of the couch. 

“Do you want to lay down? I can bring you to my bed?” he asks with concern lacing his words. 

“I’m—” you start, but with acid suddenly rising in your throat again, your eyes go wide and you jump from the couch with a renewed energy, just barely making it to the bathroom.

────────────

To put it plainly, you vomited two more times after. When you finally felt like you were done throwing up, with an empty stomach and a sore body, Eddie helped you to his bed and you slept off your spell of nausea. When you woke up a few hours later feeling a touch better, both of you decided the best choice would be to buy a pregnancy test. 

“Just to be safe, right?” he had said, eyes burning into you as you laid sprawled across his bed, feeling no longer nauseous, but instead like an empty shell of a person. “We should buy one, right?” he asked again, eyes growing wider in your silence. 

It felt like even moving your sight line to look at him took too much energy, but you met his gaze, and he nodded his head like he had made his own silent conclusion. 

“We’ll go after, okay?” he said, continuing his one-sided conversation. Standing from the edge of the bed he wiped his palms down the front of his thighs before straightening out and rubbing his hand down from his mouth to his chin. He nods a second time, doing what you assume is him coming to another silent conclusion. “I’ll get you crackers?” he continued, eyebrows raised. 

With your eyes locked on him, you swallowed the dryness in your mouth. You hadn’t done anything notable, hadn’t even attempted to answer him, but his face softened, mouth turning into a regretful frown. 

“Sorry you’re sick,” he said, bending down to pat your head, letting his thumb trace gently across your temple. It was a tender movement and you absorbed the warmth of his contact, letting your eyes blink shut. “I’ll get you water too, okay? Water and crackers and we’ll see how you feel after that.”

Eddie’s a lot of things, but nurturing and soft, and with high levels of compassion is not exactly how you would describe him. He can be those things, but principally, he’s more of an asshole— but one that you love enough to keep around, obviously. But an asshole, nonetheless. The last time you had the flu he laughed at you and made fun of the way you threw up, albeit, it was when you both were in your teens, but regardless, he was a dickhead about it— and most recently, when you had gotten a cold, he ceaseless made fun of your constant sneezing and the blazing red tone of your sore nose from blowing it so much, calling you Rudolf and asking how ‘Big Red’ was doing at this time of the year. Asshole.

Dichotomously to the Eddie you’ve known all these years, he grazes the backside of his knuckles across your cheek, rubbing them back and forth gently. It's painfully obvious he doesn’t do this often from the way his hand jerks, finger nearly poking you in the eye, but you appreciate the notion. You know you must really look awful if he’s managed to compose this much compassion for you. 

────────────

They say that nothing makes people more productive than the last minute. As the pharmacy's closing time approached, it was only then when either of you felt so inclined to even mention going to get the test.

After Eddie got you your water and crackers, you started feeling much better, and feeling much better meant it was easy to pretend like nothing had happened. You both unhealthily and aggressively ignored your potential futures by acting like it was any regular Saturday evening. You talked about your upcoming work week, and watched the usually shitty reruns on TV. Eddie made some freezer-burnt chicken nuggets, you warmed up some soup, and it was boring and uneventful, but it was the most comforting that boring and uneventful could be. 

The sun began to set and it was like the ticking of Wayne's alarm clock on the coffee table beside you only got louder and louder as time went on. 

“S’almost eight,” Eddie had eventually mumbled. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on the TV as you found this particular old rerun episode of Mama’s Family to be the most interesting thing in the world, which is odd considering you usually change the channel whenever it's on. 

With both of you sitting at the couch, feet kicked up, resting side by side on the coffee table, Eddie moves his foot far enough to just barely knock yours— an attempt to pull your attention away from the screen.

“The show’s almost done,” you say, turning your head towards him but keeping your eyes on the TV.

“The pharmacy closes at eight.”

“I feel fine,” you shrug.

Moving your feet from the tabletop, Eddie copies you, putting his feet down on the floor, but he goes a step further, sitting up from the couch. He stands, facing you, but you keep your eyes on the TV, ignoring him fivefold. He props his hand on his hip, arm bent at the elbow, one foot tap away from looking like someone's mother. You ignore him tenfold. 

“You want to stay here while I go?”

“Go where?”

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” he laughs. You can hear the amusement in his voice. His hand drops from his hip and you look at him to see the smirk written across his face.

“Go where?” you double down. Huffing a laugh from his nose, he turns, opting to get himself ready, and begrudgingly, you do too. With your feet dragging through every step, you get in the car, and Eddie drives the two of you to the pharmacy. 

────────────

Under the bright, white fluorescent lights of aisle number eight, you and Eddie stare your potential future down. An unnerving amount of tests sit on the shelf at eye level, some with cute little daisy packaging, others looking sterile and pharmaceutical. 

“Why are there so many options?” Eddie asks, picking one up and flipping it to read the back. You look at the price tags and your mouth nearly drops to the floor. 

“Why are they so expensive?” you ask, taking the box out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf.

“Hey,” he objects, reaching out for it. “That one says response in twenty minutes.” 

“That one is, like, twice as much as that one,” you argue, pointing to another test.

“Yeah,” he says, grabbing the test from the shelf. “That one says a two hour response,” he continues, pointing at the exaggerated font on the front of the test in his hand, waving it in your face. “I’d rather be shitting my pants for twenty minutes than two hours.”

He’s acting normal, braggart and teasing, you can’t muster that same energy. Your stomach swirls and squeezes and does everything it shouldn’t do. Nerves or nausea, you’re not sure. A ceiling light flickers two aisles over and you can’t stand being here.

“Maybe…” you pause. Your hands start to turn clammy. “Maybe we shouldn’t get any,” you say, shifting in place. You turn to fully face Eddie, looking at him as he has a boxed test pulled close to his face, reading the side of it. “Maybe we should just go home.” 

Eddie turns to you, brows furrowed. “No— what? You just spent the whole day throwing up, we gotta get something,” he says, looking at you like you’re insane. The ceiling light flickers again and you definitely feel insane. 

It wasn’t the whole day, it was just the morning, you nearly object until you realize it doesn’t help your case. 

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you chew on the edge of your nail, distracting yourself from the tremble in your limbs. From left to right and back again, you flutter your sight over the different options. There’s too many. Too many and it’s overwhelming. 

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. The weight of his arm settles around your shoulder, pulling you so that your bicep meets the edge of his chest in a half hug. “Don’t be nervous,” he continues, in a low coo. You step inwards, turning the half hug into a full hug. Taking a deep breath, all you can muster is a short nod of your head. 

His arm moves from your shoulder, hand grazing down to your mid back. Focusing your attention on his touch, you take another deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent. Smoky, woodsy, and a contradicting sweetness from whatever shampoo that was probably the cheapest and on sale.

“We’ll be fine, remember? You probably just ate something bad.” he says. He rubs his hand up between your shoulder blades and back down. You want to believe him, you really do. 

“I’m scared,” you say quietly.

“Why?” he asks, voice just as small as yours. 

“It… it doesn’t feel like I ate something bad.” You swallow down the jagged edges of emotion that your voice gets stuck on. His hand, mid rub, pauses and you pull away enough to see him. His eyes glaze over with something you’re unsure of before he quickly blinks it back. 

“Well…” he swallows. “What does it feel like then?” he asks, brows turned upwards. He's nervous, you’re nervous, and the light flickers again, reminding you where you are. 

“Can we go home? Please.” Your nerves become far too jittery and it’s starting to turn into nausea again. Your stomach lurches and Eddie watches you for another moment, eyes searching yours until he nods, patting your back before pulling away.

“Yeah. I’ll just buy this one and we can go.” He takes your hand in his, twenty-minute-test in the other, and he guides you to the front of the store. 

────────────

“It’s almost nine now, so it’ll be ready at…”

“9:20,” you say when Eddie takes a concerning amount of time doing the math. The ride home was quiet. Being out of the fluorescence helped your nerves, and as you got further and further away from the pharmacy, and closer and closer to Eddie’s place, you started to feel normal again. 

“I knew that, I was just… thinking,” he responds. He sits up from where he was crouching in front of the dresser, using it as a table to put together the test. 

Decidedly, it was just nerves that had put you on edge, that’s it. The test is nothing but precautionary, just to rule out what could have made you sick. Eddie joins you, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Uh— before, we get a response,” he pauses, wringing his hands together. His eyes move down to his lap and your chest tightens. “I just want to say that whatever it is… I don’t regret what we did… and whatever it is, I’ll be there… for my girls.” 

He looks at you, his smirk widening by the second, and you can’t help the snort of laughter from escaping. Like every other ill-timed joke that he's pervasively told over the last month or so, he gets you, and you appreciate it this time as it lessens the gnawing feeling in your belly.

Despite the joke, when you really look at him, with his lips spread in a smile, his eyes swarm with the same trepidations that you feel. He’s a comedian but even the comedian is human. You try your hand at lightening the mood. 

“What if it’s not a girl?” you ask, playing along. He smiles, bumping his shoulder into yours as he huffs a breath from his nose. Shaking his head in an almost mirthful way you think you were successful until his demeanour drops into something serious. 

“What did you mean earlier?” he asks “When you said that it doesn’t feel like you ate something bad?”

“I just— I don't know. I just, I thought I had a feeling,” you explain. Eddie hums, eyes now set forward on the test. “I think I was just nervous, that’s all.” 

Twenty minutes has never felt longer. Eddie accepts your answer at face value but doesn’t do much to show it. He doesn't do much in general, and neither do you. At the ten minute mark, his hand found your knee. At the fifteen minute mark you were curled under his arm, resting your head on his chest as he rubbed up and down your arm. In the last minute, you had taken his hand in yours, playing with his fingers as you watched the seconds tick by on his Casio watch. 

21:19:59 turned to 21:20:00, and you turned to Eddie. Synchronously and in silence, you parted from each other. He stood and you sat. He moved to the dresser, and you held your breath. 

With his back facing you, you watch with unblinking eyes as he reaches for the instructions. Humming to himself, your lungs ache. You try to parse the meaning behind his tone, or vibration, or pitch — or anything that could give way to what he's seeing, but it’s far too vague. Taking a deep and vital breath, filling your choking lungs, you're just about to ask, mouth already open when he speaks.

“It says negative.”

“It says negative?” you parrot in disbelief.

“Negative.” Eddie firmly answers.

There’s no way. You should feel a weight lift from you, but, evident avoidance aside, that feeling is still there, stronger if anything.

“I…” you start, interrupting the loud beat of silence. “I’m not saying I want to be pregnant… but I think it’s wrong, Eddie.”

“Wrong? How could it be wrong?” he says, turning around to look at you. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Aren’t they, like, only guaranteed to work like 95% of the time?”

“That’s still a lot of the time,” he says, copying your shrug.

“Yeah… but—” you shake your head, stopping yourself. This is what you wanted right? Why would you fight against the answer that you mostly hoped for? That you were already certain about in the car barely an hour ago. “Whatever. It’s probably right. I think… I think I’m just… tired.”

Eddie nods, agreeing with you. He turns enough to set the test down, abandoning cleanup for another time— gross, but when he asks you if you’re going to sleep over, you willingly ignore the unsanitary act of leaving a used pregnancy test to sit and simmer bacteria growth. 

“You gonna sleep here?”

“Can I?’

“Of course,” he laughs.

────────────

If it were a peaceful morning, you would have woken up to the warm, red tinted sun coming into Eddie’s room through the maroon coloured bed-sheet-turned-blinds. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have woken up to shared warmth, his arm just barely tossed over your hip, hand resting in the dip of your waist. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have been able to bask in the meaning of having him beside you— what it meant beyond just shared warmth, what it meant beyond friendship. 

If it were a peaceful morning, oh, if it were a peaceful morning…

If it were a peaceful morning, you wouldn’t have woken up to rising bile in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. It's not a peaceful morning, it's a race against time. With your hand cupped to your mouth, ripping yourself from the shared tangled sheets, tripping your way to the bathroom over the crap on the floor, time almost wins. 

You made it by a stroke of luck with not a second to spare.

────────────

“It must be the flu,” you had croaked weakly. Eddie nodded, looking at you with tired eyes that had been startled awake by your fumbling and awful retching.

“Yeah, it’s definitely the flu.” It was not a whole hearted agreement, but there was no way any bad food would still be in your system. And with a negative pregnancy test, the flu is the only answer. Obviously.  

The next day, in the quietness of your apartment, you kept a preemptive bowl next to your bed, just in case.

Thank god you did because it was the worst it’s been yet, and with your temperamental luck, you would not have made it to the bathroom this time.

────────────

“Hello?” Eddie answered from the other end of the telephone line. 

Your untouched breakfast sits on the table as you stand in front of your wall-hanging phone, leaning against the counter to stop yourself from keeling over entirely. 

“It's me.” 

“Oh, hey, didn’t think I’d hear from you so early, what's up?” His near chipper attitude is grating and if you could strangle someone through the phone you might have muscled up the last of your strength and considered it. 

“I’m still sick.” If you sound as awful as you feel, and equally as annoyed, it's because you are every terrible emotion in the dictionary. You are the essence of a bad mood, a side effect of how sick you’ve been.

“Shit—” he cursed. “I have work in thirty but I can stop by after?”

“Yeah, you already told me you were working,” you snark, because obviously he has work. It’s Monday.

“Do you want me to stop by after?

“I'm just telling you that I’m still sick.”

The call lulls and you can hear a slight rustle from the other end.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re sick and I feel bad,” he says, voice turning up like he's asking you if that is an alright answer. It’s not, and you twirl the phone cord between your fingers, distracting yourself from scoffing and saying something you know you’ll regret. 

The call lulls for another moment and he clears his throat, coughing right into the receiver. 

“Uh— aside from being sick… everything else okay?” he asks tentatively, pausing too frequently that it annoys you, even more so than you already are.

“I’m fine, I just feel like garbage.”

“Nothing else bothering you? I have a minute, we can talk?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re— and don’t bite my head off— but you’re not on your period?”

“Why would you ask that?” You meet his stupidity with a harsh and rightfully deserved defensiveness. “Don’t you think I would tell you if I was? You know, all things considered.” 

His voice raises as he comes to his own defence. “Well, I just thought… 'cause you thought that maybe there was a chance that the test was wrong, but then we agreed it wasn’t and…”

“And?”

“And you’re in a bad mood.”

You hang up the phone and when it rings again, you let it. 

────────────

Eddie spent the whole day being eaten alive by his thoughts. You said you had a feeling, and Eddie knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t joke around about stuff like this. He would, he has, but you wouldn't.

Since the moment you told him that you weren’t on birth control, he had been thinking about it. Hypothetically, having a kid with you wouldn’t be the worst. He’d actually… like it… maybe? Would he say that to you? No, but it's not an awful thought.

Sure he made jokes out of it, but that was just his ill mannered way of accepting the fact that he kind of, maybe, potentially, would like having a kid with you… and being more than just friends. But he could never tell you that, so he made stupid, stupid jokes. 

But now that having a baby with you is less hypothetical, he’s fucking scared. Not because it’s with you, but because he might be having a fucking baby. That’s terrifying in and of itself. 

When you first started feeling sick, he let himself really believe for about an hour that maybe you had eaten something bad, but in his heart of hearts, he knew. There was no way. Four weeks and 3 days after he came inside you— not that he's keeping track of the days— and you’re suddenly experiencing ‘food poisoning’, even though you didn’t eat anything particularly abnormal or poison-like?

You’re pregnant. So fucking pregnant. There’s no way you’re not. 

“Hey, Bill. You have kids, right?” Eddie had asked as he sat down at the break table with one of his more favourable colleagues. 

Bill, more or less his mentor— or more eloquently put, the kind soul that's been helping him work his way up to being an actual mechanic and not just the guy who cleans and sweeps up after them like he’s been doing for the last year and a bit. He’s an older gentleman, doesn’t do much small talk, is in a permanent old man bad attitude, but he’s a good guy— reminds him of Wayne at times. Eddie trusts him enough, especially not to go talking about him around town. 

“Uh-huh. Grandkids too,” he answers, barely looking up from his newspaper. Eddie knew this of course, but he couldn't think of any other way to approach the topic. 

“Right, sorry,” Eddie apologizes, wringing his hands out of nervousness and dragging out the point of interrupting Bill’s lunch break.  

“You gonna be a father?” Bill asks bluntly.

Father? Eddie's familiar with a particular ‘F’ word, uses it way too fucking much in fact. Father, on the other hand, is an ‘f’ word that was barely in his vocabulary, he could go weeks without letting that word pass through his thoughts, let alone it being a descriptor of his very own character. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open as his breath stutters like a kid getting caught red handed. “No.” he stumbles to answer. “Uh— maybe. I don’t know. We don’t know.”

“So what are you askin’?”

“Your girlfriend— uh, wife—”

“Wife,” Bill answers with an annoyed ring to it. 

“Right, your wife… What was she like when she got pregnant?” 

Bill shakes his head, ignoring the question. “Did she take a test? They have those now. Can buy ‘em at the store,” he gruffs.

“We did, but it was negative. She… she said they’re wrong sometimes though, and she thought that… she thought that maybe it was wrong?”

Bill sets down his newspaper, the edges of both his fists meeting the surface of the table top. He looks to Eddie, catching his flighty eye contact, giving him his full attention.

“Morning sickness?”

“She’s been sick the last couple of days.”

“Hormonal?”

“Hormonal?” Eddie asks, quirking a brow. Bill rolls his eyes, not unlike how Wayne has done time after time.

“Bad mood? Mood swings?”

“Kind of?”

“I won’t go into detail because I respect my wife,” Bill says, eyeing Eddie through slanted eyes. “Any changes that aren’t to do with her mood?” he asks, looking down the slope of his nose.

“Huh?” Eddie thinks hard, trying to decipher what Bill means. Bill gives Eddie an encouraging nod that quickly turns short-tempered.

“Her body? Any changes?” Bill grumps.

“Oh.” Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh— I don't know. She’s not really my girlfriend, we’re just friends.” 

“Just a friend you got pregnant?” Bill’s near-permanent-scowl breaks into a smile, lips turning at the corners in a sadistic way, eyes gleaming with taunting amusement. Eddie feels his palms start to sweat. 

“So you think she’s pregnant?”

“I think you’re up shits creek with a turd for a paddle, kid. Gettin’ a friend pregnant,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs to himself. He fixes his newspaper back upright, picking up where he left off in the classifieds. 

“Well, we’re good friends. I— she… we—” Eddie thinks about telling him that it’s you— Bill knows of you. Eddie’s talked about you enough, but he bites his tongue for the same reason that he didn’t go to Wayne about this— it would be all, ‘just ask her out’, ‘quit pussyfootin’ ‘round it,’ but he doesn’t get it, he can’t just ask you out. He—

“You like her more than a friend.” Bill says, making Eddie freeze. He opens his mouth to speak, to deny, to confirm, to anything, but nothing comes out. “Oh you got it bad, huh?” Bill continues with a teasing smile.

“C’mon, it’s not—” Eddie tries to object but Bill sees right through it. 

“You love her?”

“I…” Eddie swallows, thinking over his answer. “I don’t know…maybe?”

“Well, you got an interesting journey ahead of yous if she really is pregnant,” he laughs again.

And with that entirely unhelpful conversation, Eddie spent the rest of the day not only ruminating on you being pregnant, but now, his feelings for you as well. 

────────────

After work he went straight home, showered, got redressed in sweats and the cleanest shirt he could find and beelined straight for your apartment. He made one quick stop at the pharmacy but quicker than even he anticipated, he was at your front door. 

He knocked, and then there you were, opening the door for him, not exactly smiling— but not looking angry either, or sick, which is a good start.

Greeting him with a quiet ‘hello’, you opened the door wider. He stepped into your apartment, and like he mentally rehearsed, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Before he could look at your reaction, he turned, hiding his face behind the curtain of his still damp hair, and kicked his shoes off. 

He’s just trying to get back on your good side. After this morning— your bad mood, and then him only making it worse by asking if you were on your period, which he knew you weren’t because you said that it's been weird since you stopped birth control but… yeah, he’s just trying to get on your good side, definitely not anything more than that. 

Clearing his throat and praying his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel, he tries to move on. “How’re you doing?” he asks. You spare him, and you don’t mention the kiss nor give him any weird reactions— which is good, right? You would tell him off if you didn’t want him to kiss you, right?

“I’m doing fine now,” you reply, turning to lead him to the kitchen. He follows behind, humming an acknowledgement. At your counter is a full, waiting dish that looks like and smells like spaghetti. You sit back in your seat, and he takes the one next to it, putting his brown shopping bag down in front of him. 

He watches you as you bring a forkful of your dinner to your mouth. “You’re eating, you must not be feeling sick anymore?”

“No, I stopped feeling sick around lunch and then I was starving,” you say through a second mouthful, swirling your third bite around the fork. 

“Nice,” he nods. Eddie’s not sure of much, not now, hardly ever, but you feeling better around lunch means you only felt sick in the morning, and you being sick in the mornings falls exactly under the conditions of morning sickness… and that means…

Swallowing down his thoughts in a thick gulp, he reaches for the pharmacy bag. “Well, I bought another test just in case,” he rushes out quickly, moving to take out the good part of his shopping haul to lessen the blow if the test somehow pisses you off. “—and I also bought you—”

“Liquorice! Oh my god and popcorn,” you say excitedly, interrupting him with the loud crinkles of you grabbing for the package of candy, quickly ripping it open. 

Eddie watches you closely, the way your eyes light up for some of your favourite foods. He was taking a risk, buying you snacks when he knew that you’ve been sick but it was that or flowers and flowers seemed a little too… forward?

Your reaction to the snacks though, it’s not abnormal, but it’s not exactly normal either… a bit too… ravenous? To be fair, you were sick and now you’re feeling better, maybe you are just extra hungry…. But then again, there's also your bad mood earlier and sure you felt like shit from being sick, but you were usually pretty happy whenever you talked to him. He wasn’t used to all of these… mood swings.

Symptom after symptom, his thoughts finally bubble out. “I think you should take the test again,” he says, interrupting you as you rip open the bag of popcorn. You pause and he holds his breath.

With a shrug, you resume your movements, reaching into the bag and grabbing a handful. “But I feel fine?” you say, waving Eddie off.

“I think… maybe just in case?”

“Here, sit down, I’ll get you some spaghetti,” you ignore him, standing from your seat. “It’s so good, I swear. This is my second plate full.” You grab a dish from the cupboard, serving some up from a pot on the stove top without waiting for a reply from Eddie— not that he had one, he was too stunned by your unconcerned mood to think of one. 

Adding a slice of garlic bread to the side of the dish, you place it down in front of him, quickly moving back to your own seat to dig into the popcorn and finish your own meal. 

“You didn’t go to work today?” he asks after mumbling a polite thank you.

“No, I called in. When I got the promo, I got like six extra sick days, plus vacation time, so I figured I might as well use them,” you shrug indifferently.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, taking a quick glance at you before looking back to his plate of food, moving his fork around the plate absentmindedly. “Do you happen to have… better insurance with your job now?” he asks, attempting to match your aloofness.

You pause your fork before shoving it in your mouth, opting to turn to look at Eddie. He purposely avoids your eye contact, continuing to swirl his fork in his food.

“Why?”

“Just curious,” he shrugs. “Whenever I get my promo—” he pauses. “—if I get the promo, Coop gives out some shitty insurance plan. Was just wondering what you were getting these days,” he continues nervously.

“I have insurance.”

“Good.”

“Why’s it good?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him.

“Is it not good? You get sick, you don’t have to pay as much— I think that’s objectively good.”

“Fine,” you relent. You stare at him for another moment, but when you finally go back to your food, Eddie lets out a long breath that he was holding in before going back to his food.

He finishes his plate while lost in a daze of thoughts. There’s no way you weren’t pregnant. Absolutely no way. He doesn’t know much about pregnancy, that’s for sure, but this is checking off every single box in his very limited knowledge of symptoms. 

He only withdrew from his head when he felt you staring at him yet again. You had pushed your plate back on the counter, head resting in the palms of your hands as you watched him intently with a particular glint of something in your eyes, something that he’s only seen two other times.

“Hi?” he says shyly, cheeks tingeing pink. 

“You kissed me on the cheek when you came in,” you state.

“Yeah, I did,” he nods, cheeks deepening to crimson under your close watch. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” you ask, stretching your leg out under the counter, running your foot along his shin.

Eddie chokes on his food before looking at you with wide eyes. Elbow bent to cover his mouth as he clears his throat from his sputtering, his eyebrows raise high, hiding under his bangs as he works through your suggestion. 

“Like stay the night or just stay the night?” he asks, eyes burning into you out of shock. 

“I just kept thinking about before… and, you know…” you say, shrugging, hooking your foot around his calf.

“So like, stay the night?” he asks, eyes glimpsing down at your outstretched leg. 

With a sly smile, you nod your head making Eddie’s eyes grow even wider.

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m really sure.” 

Eddie takes a final bite of his food before pushing back in his chair. You excitedly stand, taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to your room. 

Maybe it’s a stupid thing to do when you’re both still up in arms about being pregnant, but Eddie would be a fool to say no to you. He physically couldn’t, has never had it in him. It doesn’t help that he really likes you and might potentially love you. And after all, he’s just a simple man. 

────────────

“Harder.” 

Your desirous voice echoing off of wallpapered bedroom walls, airy moans embellishing every thrust, Eddie does his best to give you what you want. Round two and countless of your orgasms later, you’re still begging Eddie to keep going.

Round one was fantastic. Sincerely earth shattering and left him winded and full heartedly wishing he took up track in his freshman year instead of smoking cigarettes. 

The night started with you riding him, insisting that he laid back, and who was he to say no to that? He watched you intently, grasping at your hips with each rise and fall, feeling the way your body nearly trembled over his own as you made yourself feel better and better. He was completely enamoured by the way your mouth rounded into a perfect oval, the way your eyes welled as you rose up and down, enjoying yourself truly and utterly. Then, when he took over, you were begging, whimpering, and moaning for him. He swore he had never came that hard in his life. 

With the long day of worrying and his stress induced sleepless nights wearing on him, he was nearly nodding off when you were on him for round two. It was exciting— you needing him like this, and his cock was kicking up again before he could process it. 

You came again, adding another tally to the growing tab of how many times you’ve come tonight. This time, you were on your hands and knees, back in a deep arch as he watched the recoil of your ass with each of his thrusts. 

The only thing on his mind was you. How you felt so perfect around his cock, how pretty you sounded whining and begging for him to keep going, how beautiful you are, and how badly he just wanted to keep making you feel good, but then it was like a switch flipped in his head. 

He heard it once, how pregnant women would sometimes get really horny. Insatiably horny— and you just kept asking for more, begging for him to keep going. You were cumming and still managing to ask him to keep going. He had never had sex like this before.

His skin that had grown damp throughout the night, covered in a permanent sheen of sweat, now drew dry, just like his mouth. His thighs burned, his calves begged for a break, his balls were aching from staving off his own release, and now there was very little uncertainty in his mind that you weren’t pregnant. 

Mid thrust, you clench around him, stealing his already stolen breath, pulling from his meandering thoughts. He refocuses his gaze on the bounce and jiggle of your ass and the sweet noises singing from your lips before letting his palms slide down the slope of your arched back, giving himself better leverage to keep going. 

There's no doubt in his mind that he can finish this round. Not only would he feel like an asshole if he tapped out now, but he would also feel like the biggest idiot because this has been it for him. This is the orbiting thought in his mind, the exact scenario that he conjures up in his imagination during his alone time. 

Swallowing thickly and taking an open mouth breath, he moves a hand from your back to wrap around your torso, finding your clit with his finger tips. “One more. Gonna give you one more, pretty girl,” he rasps, voice horse and ragged from his near panting. Your back arches even deeper, hips pressing back into his as you let out a wavered moan. 

“Feels so good, Eddie. Love your cock, feels so good,” you cry, taking heavy, moaning breaths between words, your voice staggering with each of his thrusts that push you further up into the mattress. 

“Mhm, know you love it, baby. Sucking me right in, n' so wet for me," Eddie says through exasperated breaths, words coming out babbled from his focus on not cumming as your walls squeeze him harder and harder.

“Want you to cum inside me again,” you whimper out. Eddie doesn’t answer, he just thrusts harder, rolling his hips against your backside, making you moan louder and giving you the last of every ounce of energy he has left in him.

When he feels your pussy start to flutter, tensing, and pulsating around him again, he knows you're close.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he breathes, voice only getting lower and more ragged from the absolute marathon of a night.

“Gonna cum, Eddie.” Your voice rises so high in volume that Eddie's certain your neighbours can hear. 

“Cum for me baby, wanna feel you squeeze my cock one last time tonight,” he grunts, starting to feel delusional with the way his head spins. He grips his free hand on your hip, pressing his fingers into your skin and grounding himself to you, trying to push away some of the daze to think clearly. 

Eddie feels your tightness pulling him in almost immediately. He holds off his own release for as long as he can, bringing you through your orgasm until he can’t take it anymore. He pulls out just in time for his own release, sending his cum spurting over your lower back as his chest practically explodes, burning lungs having all the air expelled from them in a wheeze as he stutters through his orgasm. 

After taking a few, long moments to catch his breath, he reaches for the same towel he used earlier, wiping you clean before falling to your side feeling absolutely exhausted.

“Wanted you to cum inside,” you say pitifully, cuddling closer to him.

“Can’t, you're not on birth control, we didn’t have a condom.”

“You did it before,” you pout. 

“Yeah.” Eddie says, exhaling deeply. 

Yeah and now he's 99.9% sure you’re pregnant. 

“It’s late, got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, eyes unwillingly fluttering closed as you push your way closer to him, pressing your bare chest to his, speckling gentle kisses along his neck.

“Are you sure?” you ask, pressing another kiss to his skin. He barely has the energy to respond and you deflate against him with a sigh.

“Baby,” he coos, frowning when he looks at your lower lip jetting out in a pout. As much as he’d love to keep going, he physically could not go for another round. His cock might let him despite it feeling nearly raw from all the friction, but his aching body definitely would not. “Let me just hold you, okay? We can cuddle,” he offers to try to fix your frown. It only works the slightest bit, relaxing the crinkle in between your brows.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his hold. You let out a quiet whine at first, clearly upset, but you eventually relax into him, melding to his side. It’s not long before Eddie’s out cold, completely wiped clean of energy. 

────────────

You woke up, ripping yourself from Eddie’s grasp, hand over your mouth, rushing for the bathroom again. Eddie follows behind you, barely alert, but at your side, rubbing your back.

When you were certain everything inside your stomach was gone, you sat back, leaning against the edge of the tub.

“Think I should take that test.” 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

────────────

With the anticipation of waiting another painstaking twenty minutes, you sit on the ledge of the tub in your bathroom, watching Eddie’s back as he tinkers with the test again. The tailbone pain from sitting on the ceramic edge is nothing compared to the swirling nausea growing from your nervousness.

He had sat with you for a few minutes like the last time, but got up halfway through to get you water. He dallyed in the kitchen for a few minutes, and it was far too casual for you, especially too casual for the dramatic dungeon master himself. It was almost unnerving. 

At the fifteen minute mark, he sat with you again, throwing an arm around your shoulder, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into him. If his casualness was him disguised his nervousness, he doesn’t let on. 

This time, at the twenty minute mark, his watch beeped the grating default Casio alarm, and with the chime of a button being pressed, he stands, turning his back to you as faces the vanity. You don’t follow him, you couldn’t at this point, you feel welded to the tub ledge. 

Unlike last time, he doesn’t look at the instructions. He doesn’t hum. He doesn’t make any noise, he just turns to you, his body blocking the test. You feel your heart rate pick up, but he doesn’t give anything away with facial expressions or body language. 

His mouth opens, he takes a breath, you hold yours once again. 

“Well…” he starts. “You were right.” His tone is flat and you blink, trying to clear your confusion.

“I was right?” 

“Yeah.” he shrugs. “About the last test being wrong.”

“No.” 

“Yup,” he affirms, putting a plosive pop at the end of the word. Too casual.

With your heart pounding in your chest, thumping miles in minutes, you couldn’t process this even if you wanted to, so you don’t. You deny it. 

“You’re lying,” you state, ending your words with a light huff of laughter. Surely, this is all a joke. Eddie’s a comedian, right? Ill-conceived jokes left and right over the last month, this has to be one of them.

He doesn’t smile. His eyes don’t light up. He doesn’t laugh. “Come look,” he says, beckoning you over with a tilt of his head. 

You sit up from the ledge of the tub, moving to stand next to Eddie at the counter. He pulls out the instructions, pointing to a diagram.

“If the liquid turns blue, that means pregnant."

You look at the test, not bothering to look where Eddie points. Blue liquid sits where any other colour should be.

“It’s blue,” you state.

“Pregnant.” 

Pregnant.

The moment is eerily still. In the movies this is where the happy couples jump with excitement. In TV shows, they call family and let them know their good news. In commercials, they celebrate. They hug, they smile, they cry happy tears together. 

Eddie’s your best friend, but you’re not a couple, this wasn’t planned. So you both stand in silence, staring at the positive test.

“What do we do?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“We could go get something to eat? I can call out and we can rent a movie or something?”

“Something to eat?” you laugh. It’s positive and he’s thinking about eating?

“Yeah, you should try to eat something,” he shrugs, turning to look at you. 

“Eddie. I’m—” Pregnant, you go to say but the word dies on your tongue. “Why are you not freaking out?” you say, staring at him with wide eyes trying to understand how he’s not affected at all by this. You’ve known Eddie a long time and he’s not exactly the calm and collected type. 

“Well…” he shrugs. “When you said that you thought the first one was wrong, I trusted you more than the test. Believe me, I’ve been freaking out, but now… it’s, kind of, settled in already, I guess.”

“Settled in?” you say, jaw dropping in shock. It’s your body, you were mostly certain you were pregnant— in denial at times, yes, but you knew, yet having it confirmed is still shell-shocking. How has it already ‘settled in’ for him?

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “If you want to keep it, I’m happy. If not, I’ll support you.”

“Happy?” you say, bewildered. 

“Well… yeah. We’ve... we've been friends forever. A kid that’s part you and part me? That’s fucking awesome, how could I not be happy, y’know?” he says, moving backwards to sit on the ledge of the tub. He leans forward with his hands on his knees, watching you with eyes that are too calm. Too, too, too calm about this. 

In your quiet mental chaos, you take a final look at the blue liquid before moving to sit next to him. Your skin prickles with cold shivers but you feel hot all over, like there's a flame of nerves in your belly and a hot air balloon in your chest making each breath feel laboured. 

“I’m…” you stumble over your words. “I— pregnancy is so— Eddie,” you breathe out. Your eyes inevitably start to water.  

“Pregnancy is so Eddie?” he laughs before turning towards you, noticing your eyes turning glossy. His face drops immediately, features turning soft as his brows turning up in concern. “Hey,” he hushes. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine, remember? Everything will be fine,” he assures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder again, bringing you closer to him in a hug. 

“I know, I just—” you force a breath in your lungs. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You can cry, it's okay,” he says quietly, and unfortunately, each of his nearly-whistled, whispered consonants pulls out a wave of fresh tears from you. His hand rubs over your shoulder and your cheeks only grow damper. “It’s okay to cry,” he repeats and you press your face to the cotton of his shirt. He pulls you in tighter, rubbing your back in long, steady strokes. 

Eddie’s seen you cry more than a handful of times— more than several handfuls of times, but this is substantial— it just feels different. Different because you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby. A baby with Eddie. Your best friend Eddie. Eddie, who you’ve had sex with three times. Eddie, who you’ve known forever, who you’ve spent day after day with, as a friend. Friends. You’re pregnant. Holy shit. 

Your mind races and you divert your thoughts before you stray down that road. “It’s gonna be half you and half me,” you say, mostly to yourself, repeating his earlier sentiment. 

“Half you, half me,” he echoes. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and yeah, this is different— different because Eddie doesn’t kiss you on the top of your head. He doesn’t give you kisses on the cheek either. Eddie’s given you noogies, he’s butted foreheads with you, even flicked you on numerous occasions, all particularly during your shared middle school years, but kisses? Kisses are unheard off. What you guys have been doing lately is unheard of. 

“We had sex and now we’re having a baby,” you state plainly, trying to bring any coherency to the situation, desperately needed to hear the unheard of.

“We did and now we are,” Eddie laughs. 

“You came inside me and now there’s a baby in there,” you continue, hearing every syllable of your own voice.

“That’s—” Eddie laughs quietly again. “Yeah, that’s how it works.” 

“I had morning sickness.”

“Yes you did. And mood swings.”

Pause.

“No I didn’t!” you gasp, pulling back from Eddie to look at him with a scowl. 

“You kind of did,” he smiles, dimples set deep in his grin.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You were also insatiably horny. I was getting leg cramps all night because of you,” he says, bopping your nose, making you scrunch it. Asshole.

“I was not ‘insatiably horny,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Well… if it’s any consolation, if you wanted to have sex again, I could cum in you now, ‘cause you can’t get any more pregnant than you already are,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, purposefully batting his lashes, playing up a faux coyness just to get a rise out of you. Such an asshole.

You respond by hitting him in the stomach, followed by pushing him until he almost falls into the tub, grabbing onto the shower curtain to stop himself. 

“Hey— hey, you were the one asking for it!” he defends, corners of his lips turned up in an untimely smirk. 

“I’m never having sex again,” you shriek, burying your face in your hands. 

“Well, let’s not make drastic choices right now,” he says amusedly, bringing you back in for a hug.

“I’m serious. Never again. Not with you, not with anybody. Ever.” 

“Let’s just get some fresh air, maybe we’ll start thinking straight about this,” he laughs, pulling you to stand up and guiding you out of the bathroom.

Pregnant.

tags: @princesatracionera @venuslayla23-blog @mastermindmiko @tlclick73 @yujyujj @josephquinnsfreckles @uselessnewt @animechick555 @prestinalove @sluggzillaa @daisyridleyss (if you want to be tagged for the next part I kindly ask that you please reblog!)

thank you for reading! <3

[screampied]

HOW JJK MEN DEAL WITH YOUR ATTITUDE….

sukuna, nanamin, toji, getō, gojo. jujutsu kaisen men vs your bratty attitude in bed.

2.7k words of pure filth, not yet proofread srry! ☆ total wc ☆

☆ tags ☆ afab!reader, brat-taming, unprotected sex, dirty talk, facefucking , overstimulation, hair pulling , hitting it raw, semi-public sex, 18+ mdni!

☆ a : n ☆ I just wanna get dicked down by fictional men

SUKUNA ☆ RYŌMEN

“ya got some nerve, woman,” sukuna spits, watching you with bright eyes as you just bounce up and down on his lap, your dampened lips tremble as his dick squeezes past such a sweet spot. two hands of yours gripped onto both sides of his thighs, the top of your teeth softly bites down on your bottom lip once a moan slip out from sukuna gifting your pussy with a single spank. “all that talkin’ and ya can barely ride me without me guiding your hips.”

“fuck you s-sukuna.” you’d hiss out, and his base just slams back into you, your weight shifts a bit as you’re growing more stupid, a gasp leaves your lips once you feel him reach a rough hand between your legs, slowly, just to rub circles against your clit. “you’re.. fucking small anyways.”

his warm breath wafts against your neck once he lets off a laugh, watching you struggle to keep up with his pace. yet, grows a bit stern for a second, grabbing ahold of both of your hips to make you stop - do nothing but sit in such dismay. “repeat that again for me, girl?”

“i said-” you started, and he’s stuffing you full of thick inches, your nails dig and dig into his thighs, and sukuna brings a hand up to your mouth. “you’re small, k-kuna.”

“i’m small yet you still fuck me, in case you forgot about that part.” sukuna mutters, his tone was full of rasp that it was a bit sexy, especially when you’re taken by surprise once he shoves you lightly on your chest and the very palm of his hand smacks against your ass, “i’m small yet you probably couldn’t even take both of my dicks if you tried, whore.”

a hiss leaves from your lips again, and you start to whimper once you feel the tip of his swollen head swipe against your achy entrance. “just.. stop talking and fuck me then.”

“mm. no. i’ll fuck ya when i feel like it,” he replies immediately, and you’re just stupidly enough laid flat against your chest, facing forward while sukuna’s entire frame is against you, just barely. just as he’s about to go in, he stops, leaving you with the biggest pout imaginable. “and right now, i don’t feel like it.”

“wha-”

you feel the weight of the bed shift a bit, hearing sukuna pull up his pants, readjusting his belt and you sit up with your eyebrows curling up in disappointment. “where are you going? i didn’t even g-get to cum yet.”

“that sounds like a you problem, princess.” he says, staring down at you with red slick eyes. bastard. his tone carried such arrogant tease, it made you throb and it was so annoying, even still. “don’t think i’ll be able to make ya cum with a dick this small. go ahead and use those fingers of yours. you’re a big girl.”

and sukuna leaves the bedroom, leaving you, naked, confused, and even more horny than you already were before.

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“my love, thought i told you to wait, i’m in a… call.”

his words slow for a moment once he looks down, seeing you buried underneath his home office work desk, on your knees and giving him that needy look of pure want and desperation. your eyes was just begging, he stares with near widened eyes once he sees you playfully unzip his black slacks. “little.. minx.. okay, fine. just.. try to control yourself for me?”

you and nanami both knew how you’d get though, especially whenever you were to go down on him. you wanted him to touch you, let alone fuck you but he just had to have a stupid important business company meeting. he relaxes for a moment, giving you one final glance before averting his attention towards his bright screen on his laptop as if you weren’t taking him in your mouth at that right given moment.

“fuck,” he groans, leaning back against his black cushioned chair, he can’t help but stare for a bit at seeing his fat tip disappear after each inch. your tongue swirls against against the plump head, tasting his pre-cum and moments later you gag from feeling him reach way back against your throat. “…you.. better wipe that damn smile off your face.”

he was half right, the tiny smile poking against thet corners of your lips as your head started to slowly bobble up and down, taking him with tears already starting to form in your eyes from how good it was. “uh.. kento. are you listening? we need your input for the week's product.”

“p-pardon?” he groans, and his tip continues to hit against the back of your throat, your mouth’s happily being stuffed full, wet sloppy noises of your throat getting fucked, by this point nanami’s got a fist full of your hair, shoving you with ease yet just enough force to where his dick tickles your uvula, making you gag again and again. “i’m listening.. sorry,” he huffs out, and you’re being pushed against him again and again, it’s so sloppy and messy you’ve got drool pouring down the sides of your mouth, “my um.. pet, keeps distracting me, you know?”

the other employees on the call laugh at nanami’s poor attempt of a joking lie, and momentarily his thigh bounces and he bites his lip while trying to maintain focus on his screen. “right, right. anyways, as we mentioned…” and the boring conversation continues, nanami’s staring at you, you’re being a good girl taking him fully, that sloppy tongue of yours just toying with his tip and he’s close - you can tell from the way his grip tightens in your hair, dragging you closer against him and you’re breathing through your nose.

nanami grows quiet for a bit, you keep a long gaze towards him as your knees dig into the ground, probably marks on them by now and moments later he shoots in your mouth, warm ropes of his cum coat on your tongue and it catches him off guard. “….y-yeah no, that sounds good.” he swallows thickly, squeezing the small black mouse that connected to his laptop—just eager to click the red decline button to end the meeting call.

you sucked him dry, his eyes close for a moment and he’s still holding onto your hair, swaying his thumb against your mouth once he takes his dick out to rub and smear his erected cock against your lips. beep. he left the call, and he lets off a sexy low grunt, finally staring at you again. “show me your tongue, baby. let me see the mess you made.”

you stick out your tongue, and nanami gets hard again even though he’s flaccid at the moment, he slaps his fat tip against your tongue and your reaction is so enthusiastic, he watches his own cum nearly pour out your mouth and he brings a hand towards your chin to cup your cheeks. “swallow,” and you do, eager enough and he gives you a head pat before you gasp, pushing you closer towards his crotch area again. “need to feel that mouth of yours again, love. make me cum at least two more times and i’ll think about touching that pretty needy body of yours, okay?”

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

“am i goin' deaf or did ya really just say that, brat?” toji says, and you moan once he’s got you bent over the armrest of the couch like some slut. in this case, you were from how loud you were from each thrust he gave you. you’re just screaming out his name practically from how good he’s hitting you from the back. deep deep strokes that makes your back go up a bit. “still think your ex fucks better than… me?”

“you h-heard me,” you shot back, barely being able to keep up your act, his dick has you stupid and feral, mouth watering, it was just so filthy. he’s so big and thick, stretching and molding out your walls with each second, you feel him throb inside you and his base smacks back against your pussy, he groans from it before chuckling at your broken words. “he can.. last longer than you.”

toji scoffs. “tch,” and your mouth opens a bit once he deepens the angle, getting more thorough with his hits against your cunt. you get dizzy from how good he fucks you, you’re whimpering from his cock at this point, whimpering for more and toji grows cocky. “now girl, let’s not lie.”

his sassiness throws you off, and you’re basically being fucked into the mattress, face being shoved against the cushions.

“f-fucking asshole,” you whined, and he spanks your ass, you let off a soft noise once you feel him pin your wrists behind your back, he’s so deep you can feel his thrusts kiss against your pussy numerous times, you get shivers.

“…sayin' that yet here ya are slutting yourself out on me, that’s…kinda ironic sweetheart,” toji smirks, and he’s got your pussy losing itself, he was right, he and you both knew that. no one could fuck better than toji, especially with a size like his—he could fuck you right to sleep, his dreamy strokes would ease about anyway. “how ‘bout i pump this cunt full and show your little boy toy what he’s missin'.”

you’re too fucked dumb to reply, and toji’s pace grows more and more erotic. the couch creaks and creaks, and your head’s just spinning.

“f-fuck.. cum- gonna cum toji.”

“not on me you aren’t,” he mumbles back, and you’re mood immediately shifts to confusion once he flips you on your back, his hovering over you with a fixated witty grin. “oh don’t give me that look, sweets. you brought this on yourself, and my feelings are hurt so it you think i can’t last, maybe your ex can do better.”

“h-huh?” you whimpered, watching him grab your phone from the nightstand. “what are you doing? finish fucking me..”

“callin' mr. lover boy,” still balls deep yet stopping his thrusts, with a few clicks, toji dials a number before pressing the phone against his ear. “hey buddy. hope ya aren’t busy. but you remember your girl right? i’m-fucking-her-by-the-way-but-that’s not-important. but she says you last longer than me. ain’t gonna lie, man to man, quite frankly, i’m offended.”

SUGURU ☆ GETŌ

“fucking…” he cursed, kissing his teeth in annoyance, he pulls over the car to a more secluded area away from public eyes, he gets you out before staring at you with an annoyed expression. even pissed off, geto was still heavily attractive. “trying to.. get me off while i’m driving? you wanna get us both killed?”

“maybe…” you fake whined, a smile going on your lips, striding towards him to playfully run your hands up his shirt to feel his toned abs.

geto gives you a glare before with a swift arm movement, he turns you around and pins you against the hood of his car. “you just woke up and chose to be a brat today, huh. someone needs to get put in their place again. you never learn, do you.”

he had no shame fucking you out in the open, despite no cars were driving nearby, anyone could probably stumble upon the two of you though. it was so filthy, your boyfriend fucking you rough and deep against the hood of his car, lazily pulling your skirt up, not having the decency to pull down your panties. “s-suguru,” you moaned, not expecting him to be so worked up, your panties were pulled to the side and he’s pumping your sweet tight cunt full of his dick. “someone’s gonna see us.”

“someone’s gonna see you,” he corrects, giving your ass a mean spank and that makes you moan later before you start sputtering cute whiney little sorry’s before he continues to spank you ever few seconds, grunting from his deep strokes that made you almost go limp against his hood. “what are you sorry for?”

he was teasing you, your hands remained planted on top of the the warm over-heated vehicle, you feel your mouth grow dry and you feel yourself coming close. “for- for trying to stroke you while you were trying.”

“that’s sweet,” he says, and you’re just getting pounded from behind, he’s a perfect fit for your smug entrance, using a rough hand to spread your legs a little wider for him. you could sort of feel the soft fabric of his halfway pulled down sweats against your ass each time he hits himself against you, “but i don’t believe you’re sorry. you’re just saying sorry so i can let you cum, is that right, pretty?”

you squeezed your eyes close for a split second and you hear geto hold back a giggle once he gives your ass another spank. “n-no i’m serious suguru, 'm sorry- please let me cum.”

“pretty please,” he adds, hearing you sigh in frustration. he found it so cute whenever you didn’t get your way.

“…….pretty please, suguru.”

“good, good girl.” he groans, his balls were so heavy, very thick you’re just hungry for him to pump you more, your mouth watered just imagining him over filling your pussy with ropes and ropes of his cum until it’s dripping down your thighs.

but a ear-wrenching siren appears, and you freeze up once you spot a police car pulling up towards the both of you. let’s just say, the both of you were busted.

GOJO ☆ SATORU

“so it’s like that,” gojo frowns, and it’s fake nonetheless, of course it is, it’s gojo. he’s never serious, especially while he’s intimate with you. you’re laid down on your back and gojo’s just so mean. he already came inside you but now he’s just teasing you, admiring his own cum overflowing your cunt with the stupidest grin spreading on his face. “we may not be together anymore but you’re the one beggin' for more all the time.”

“don’t be stupid,” you grumble, giving him a returning glare - and oddly enough, that only turns him on. “you’re only good for a quick f-fuck.”

“oh. soooo you’re just using me,” he pouts, leaning in to give you a kiss, but pauses and that’s when he goes back inside you, barely giving you time to adjust and your nails find its way into the edges of his back. his dick was so lengthy, a perfect fit for your pussy and you whine once he leans into you, body to body, and he’s so warm.

“who knew you were a such a player, baby,” he utters, moving in close to lick a stripe up your neck. “but we both know that isn’t true. you keep comin' back to me 'cause you’ll never find someone who can fuck you deep as good as me. i mean, i don’t blame you…. i’d be pretty pissed too. especially with a size like mine. there there.”

gojo goes on to ramble mid-fuck, like he always does and he’s so annoying, but his heavy size makes up for it entirely.

“i hate you-” was all you managed to spit out, and you moan once you feel gojo press a hand against your tummy, he’s feeling the slight bulge and it makes him smile knowing how big he is. “cocky bastard.”

“ehhh but you love this cocky bastard though.” he sings, pursing his lips together in a mocking way, and he’s fucking you again with his hips rocking and swaying against you, gojo grabs onto your hands, playfully squeezing them before noticing your lip starting to tremor. “oh? you gonna cry for me, princess? forgot how much of a crybaby you were whenever you get close.”

you don’t reply, just lock your legs around his slutty waist and he chuckles at your clinginess.

“….speechless… just… like… that, that’s so cute but sad. thought i taught this pussy better,” he mocks, and you moan right up against his ear from his dick going against your clit repeatedly, you take a few stops to smear your lips together or control your breathing and gojo’s sliding in and out of you, preparing to gift you with another dump of his cum to fill you full.

his inches nearly have you drooling—you want more and more but you’d never flat out say that to gojo satoru of all people. he smooches your cheek and flashes that cheesy cocky grin, before giving you more ropes of his cum, admiring the way your legs shook before spreading your legs open to get a good enough view of the way it drips down your thighs.

“oh…. damn. you’re on the pill…. right?”

“……”

“RIGHT?”

[megalony]

Make It Stop

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine I had an idea for, and there will be a part 2 soon. I hope you will all like it, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: Eddie is married to Bobby's daughter, and things take a bad turn when they have to take her to the hospital in the middle of the night. And the doctors can't find out why.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reaching a hand up, Eddie tiredly rubbed at his eyes and pushed the base of his hand across his eyes and the bridge of his nose to try and wake himself up. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness around him and liven himself up but once he did, he realised why he was suddenly awake.

There was an empty space beside him in the bed.

He was laid out on his back, Iris tucked under his right arm and Mavis flat out on his chest, crushing down in him in the most comforting way. But (Y/n) wasn't laid beside him on his left.

When Eddie went to sleep he knew (Y/n) had been in the bed with him. Mavis had been with them too, but Iris had snook in at some point during the night and wormed her way into Eddie's side.

He kept his arm around Iris and lowered his other hand down to rest on Mavis's back and he tilted his head forward to kiss the top of her head. All he needed was Chris to come wandering in and he would have all the kids in bed with him. This was how Eddie usually woke up after he came home from a long shift at work. He somehow found himself smothered by all three kids. And (Y/n), of course.

He took to smoothing his hand up and down the toddler's back while he tiredly waited for (Y/n) to come back. Eddie didn't sleep well without her and he wanted her to come back to bed so he knew she was alright.

When the bedroom door finally pushed open, a glimmering warmth of orange light basked through the end of the room and Eddie finally looked up to see (Y/n) walking in. But his arm tightened around Mavis and he frowned when he watched her.

(Y/n) walked in like she was stumbling and she wasn't moving very fast or well.

He watched in confusion and building fear as (Y/n) didn't climb into bed like she should of. Instead, (Y/n) moved to sit on the end of the bed near Eddie's feet. Her head flopped down and her arms coiled into her chest as she doubled over herself.

"Mi amor, everything okay?"

When she didn't answer, Eddie carefully unravelled his arm from around Iris and let her snuggle down into his pillow, still fast asleep. He turned to the left and carefully laid the one year old down from his chest and onto the middle of the bed. Once Mavis curled up and burrowed into the cover, Eddie climbed out and crawled over to the end of the bed.

He swung his legs over the edge and sat down beside (Y/n), wrapping one arm around her lower waist while his other hand moved to hold her thigh.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Eddie rested his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder and leaned over to kiss her neck, but that's when he realised something.

She wasn't wearing her pyjamas anymore. She was sat in her bra and underwear, something she didn't usually sleep in and something Eddie knew for a fact (Y/n) hadn't been wearing when they went to sleep.

He was taken by surprise when (Y/n) grabbed his hand on her thigh and moved his palm to press into her chest.

She turned her head to face him and in the damp light from the hallway, Eddie could see she looked panicked. Her eyes were watering, her lips were parted and she was breathing oddly. Each breath was ragged and deep and she was wheezing as if her lungs were clogged with water.

"Hurts… Eddie, c-can't breathe." (Y/n) kept her hand deadlocked around Eddie's wrist but she couldn't stay sitting upright. Her shoulders sagged forward and she leaned over like she was about to fold in on herself.

All evening since before Eddie came home, (Y/n) hadn't been feeling great but she brushed it off as the cold Chris was just getting over. But when she woke up tonight feeling like something was weighed down on her chest, she began to panic. (Y/n) had spent the last ten minutes in the bathroom trying to cough and take sips of water and see if she was just tense or panicking, but something was wrong.

She couldn't take in a proper breath and now she felt like her chest was tightening and closing up.

Her watering eyes followed her husband as he got up from the bed and turned the bedroom light on. Eddie moved his hands to her thighs and parted them so he could stand between her legs and lean over her as both hands moved to cup her face and tilt her head back.

"Try and take deep breaths for me baby, I know it's hard but just try." His thumbs brushed across her cheeks before his fingertips pressed into her neck.

He felt her pulse for a moment and dragged his fingertips down her throat and pressed into her muscles like he was trying to give her a massage.

Eddie then crouched down so he was level with her chest and pressed a hand in the centre of her chest just beneath her bra to feel each breath she tried to take. Her airways were clear and her throat wasn't tightening up, she wasn't having any reaction. She didn't have any obstructions in her chest that he could feel, and Eddie knew his wife didn't have asthma and she wasn't suddenly developing asthma overnight.

(Y/n) moved her hands to grip the edge of the bed to stabilise herself, but she was feeling lightheaded from how horribly she was starting to croak and wheeze.

"Baby I'm calling for help." Eddie knew it was bad when (Y/n) nodded. If she was feeling more like herself she would have refused to call the emergency services. (Y/n) hated ambulances and she hated being ill or admitting that something was wrong. Giving in to help this easily told Eddie this was bad.

He grabbed his phone from the side table, looked to check the girls were still fast asleep, and then crouched down between (Y/n)'s thighs again.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"This is firefighter Diaz from the 118, I need an ambulance… my wife's having breathing problems. She's barely breathing at all now."

(Y/n) tried to lean forwards and press her forehead into Eddie's shoulder but he shook his head and gently nudged her back up. He pinned the phone between his ear and shoulder and held (Y/n)'s hands, pressing them to the back of her head so her elbows were pointed out.

"Big, deep breaths as deep as you can, lungs expanded, see?" He needed her to stay upright and try to keep her chest open and her lungs expanded to get her breathing properly again.

"Okay, what's your wife's name? Has she had an accident or an asthma attack?"

"(Y/n) Diaz. She hasn't had an accident, she just, she can't breathe."

Eddie had no idea why this was happening. He didn't know what was going on or why (Y/n) was suddenly having such breathing problems. He just needed any team they could send him and their equipment because Eddie couldn't do anything here at home.

It didn't take long for a team to arrive and Eddie sighed inwardly and stared up at (Y/n) when they heard who came in through the front door.

Her dad.

"Eddie? Eddie what's going on?"

"Wait- Eddie? This is his place?" Evan reached forward and tried to grab Bobby's shoulder to get some answers but Bobby didn't pause in his stride. He stormed through the house and down the hall with his team following behind in confusion.

Eddie had just been on a double shift, he left the station at five this afternoon while Evan only came on shift at one in the afternoon and was on until lunchtime tomorrow.

What was happening at Eddie's home? Why were they here? How did Bobby know this was Eddie's place, had he been here before?

There were children's toys scattered around the house and toddler's shoes and pacifiers and blankets and coats as they passed through the house. Did Eddie have kids, and if so, why hadn't he told any of them this before?

"In here." Eddie waved his hand near the door and beckoned them into the bedroom. He was surprised Iris was still fast asleep, although he knew she would wake up soon. And Mavis was wriggling and whimpering as she started to stir at the commotion.

"Hi sweetheart, what's going on, hm?" Bobby bent down on his knees at the foot of the bed and rested his hand lovingly on (Y/n)'s knee. He smiled softly up at his daughter and brushed his thumb across her bare knee. But the moment she looked down at him, tears flushed (Y/n)'s face and she began to gasp even worse than before.

She dropped her arms from behind her head and clenched her dad's wrist in her hand. Her chest shuddered back and forth, her shoulders quaked and her body shook horribly as she felt her breaths get even thinner and scarce than before.

"Kids," (Y/n) croaked, looking between her dad and her husband until they got the message.

If everyone piled in here, they would wake and terrify the girls and she knew Chris would wake upon hearing the commotion. She didn't want to terrify any of them.

"Let's get you on the gurney in the hall and we can assess you."

Bobby took (Y/n)'s left hand and held her elbow while Eddie stood on her right with an arm around her waist and her other hand clenched tightly in his. Eddie kissed the top of her head as they slowly guided her out of the room and into the hall where the rest of the team were waiting patiently.

Both Chimney and Hen wheeled the gurney back near the living room to have more space and Evan stood patiently with a medic bag in hand which he just knew Eddie was going to take from him soon.

"What's happened?"

"She woke up with breathing trouble, no obstruction I can find and airways aren't blocked. There we go, baby, sit down." Eddie helped ease (Y/n) down onto the stretcher and swung her legs up so she was propped up but she shook as soon as she leaned back into the gurney.

Terror pooled in (Y/n)'s eyes and she grabbed Eddie's arm with urgency, pulling his hand to her chest as she started to gag and croak. She really couldn't breathe now. Her jaw dropped and her stomach sucked in but she couldn't find any air and her chest felt horribly tight like it was about to pop.

Eddie leaned over her and pressed his fingertips back down on her chest before he looked across at Hen.

"She's breathing into her chest cavity, lungs are collapsing. Get me a needle!"

Spinning on his heels, Eddie rummaged through the bag Evan was holding and snapped on a pair of gloves before the team could stop him. He took the needle Chimney held out to him and crouched beside the gurney. His fingers pressed against (Y/n)'s ribs and pushed down on the right side before he slowly pushed the needle between her ribs.

He cringed at the way her body shuddered and slammed down and how Bobby had to pin her down so she didn't move or rupture anything.

Air flooded through the end of the needle and deflated her chest until (Y/n) could start gasping and clawing for breath. Her lungs were no longer breathing into her chest and they weren't getting compressed with air. She could begin to breathe now.

Chimney placed an oxygen mask over her lips and an oxygen mask on her finger as she slammed her heels down into the gurney and started to cry.

This wasn't how (Y/n) wanted the team to meet her. Laid in her underwear, gasping and effectively drowning in her own chest with her dad and husband fluttering about in panic. she didn't want them to see or meet her like this, seeing her in distress for their first meeting. It wasn't right.

"Cap?"

"Let Eddie ride in the ambulance, I'll stay here and call May to come and watch the kids so I can meet you down there. Go get dressed." Bobby clasped his hand on Eddie's shoulder and nodded towards the bedroom. Eddie couldn't very well go down with them only wearing his boxers, he needed to get dressed and grab his phone, wallet and keys.

Bobby would watch over Chris, Iris and Mavis and he would call May and see if she could come down and babysit them so he could stay with Eddie and (Y/n) at the hospital. Then he would get hold of Athena and see if she could come down as well since she had practically become (Y/n)'s mother since they got married.

When Eddie bolted down the hall, Bobby leaned over and kissed (Y/n)'s temple. He took her hands in his and held them against his chest, rubbing his hand up and down her arm to try and keep her calm.

"You uh, you know them, his family?"

Bobby turned to face Evan with a tired smile and nodded. "(Y/n)'s my daughter."

He hadn't divulged to the team that he had a daughter from his first marriage. He didn't tell them that his daughter was married to one of their team, or that they had three children together.

Bobby never found the right time to tell them and he didn't want it to compromise anything or cause any problems. He would never want the team to think he would ever favour Eddie in situations because they were family. And Eddie had never talked about (Y/n) or the kids with the team, it was just something he kept to himself and he held his family very close to his chest.

He sighed at seeing the shock plastered all over their faces.

***

"She's bleeding into her lungs."

“No she’s not.” Eddie tried his best to control his tone and keep his expression calm, but he was losing his temper now.

His team weren't listening to him. They thought they knew better when they didn't. And none of the doctors on this ward were listening to him either.

Eddie had seen the chest X-ray the emergency room had sent (Y/n) for when the team brought her in and Eddie had looked at the MRI results himself. His wife wasn't bleeding into her lungs and there was no bleed around her lungs either. There had to be a problem somewhere else in her chest to cause the sudden breathing problems and the puncture that left her breathing into her chest cavity.

"There is, it will just be too small to find." Hen folded her arms over her chest and looked over at the doctor who was watching their little meeting in the corridor.

The team had stayed at the hospital and waited for Bobby to arrive who was currently sat inside the room with (Y/n). While Evan had gone to get drinks, Hen, Chimney and Eddie waited outside and were now speculating and arguing over the problem.

"Drug misuse could cause blood to leak from the veins. If we give your wife aspirin and put dye in her veins, we can see if there's a leak.

"My wife doesn't take drugs." Eddie snapped his jaw like a crocodile and turned his back on them to look through the window.

He knew his wife. He had been married to her for almost five years. (Y/n) didn't take or misuse drugs and she didn't mess around with prescription drugs either. This wasn't some random person the team were trying to help, this was family. This was Eddie's girl, the person who held his heart in her hands every single second of every day.

"There are other causes, we need to do this test-"

"If you thin her blood she could have a mass haemorrhage and die. You will not kill my wife for some little experiment. Find me some fucking evidence then we'll talk."

Not only was (Y/n) not doing drugs, but there was no sign of a bleed in her lungs or any artery or vein in her chest. Thinning her blood would put her at risk, it could damage her brain and if she started to bleed she wouldn’t clot properly and could have a mass blood loss. There was a huge risk because if they ruptured a vein or an artery then she would bleed out.

Eddie wasn't risking her health because the doctors couldn't find an explanation and his team were clueless on helping.

"She still isn't breathing properly, Mr Diaz and we suspect a leak. Even if there isn't one, she needs blood thinners as her blood pressure is rising too quickly. She isn't going to get better if this is a leak and we do nothing."

Eddie folded his arms over his chest and looked between the three people stood in front of him who he didn't want to be around anymore.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to rewind the clock back to when he left his shift and be back home with his girls and his son. He wanted all of them to be fine and to go back through their nightly routine and not wake up to his wife suffering breathing complications.

Why did this have to happen to his girl?

"If you do this, I want to be in the room."

"Are you ready?"

(Y/n) looked between the doctor, the nurse and her husband who were all crowded around the bed. She found herself nodding even though, deep down, the answer was no.

She was laid out on the bed on her back as straight as a board, trying to remain still and calm. They had given her a relaxant and some anaesthetic so she wouldn't feel anything but (Y/n) didn't like being awake for this procedure. But she needed to. She had to be awake so they knew she wasn't suddenly going to decline or have any complications during the procedure.

At least Eddie was allowed to stay in the room with her. She knew her dad and Athena were waiting outside the room, and she wasn't sure if the rest of the team had decided to stick around or not. But having her family here with her was comforting.

"You're gonna be fine," Eddie murmured softly while he brought their entwined hands up so he could kiss the back of her hand.

His fingers feathered up and down her arm and made (Y/n) smile, despite the discomfort she felt. She tried to keep her eyes focused on Eddie instead of the procedure that was about to take place. (Y/n) had never been great with needles or blood, she didn't know how Eddie could deal with it as good as he did.

Her shoulders tensed and pulled inwards every now and then when she tried to take deep breaths but they ended in coughs. Her breaths came out laboured and raspy but (Y/n) tried her best to control them, she didn't want to give Eddie any more reasons to worry about her.

Eddie let his eyes look down to (Y/n)'s right leg where the nurse was threading a thin rubber tube into a vein in (Y/n)'s thigh. It was easier to go through her leg and worm up to her lung and see if there was a leak or maybe a blood clot which seemed more likely to Eddie.

"What's this for again?" (Y/n) croaked, trying to keep her eyes on Eddie and the tender smile on his face that she knew was there to calm her down.

She understood the X-ray and MRI she had when they arrived about four hours ago. But (Y/n) thought they had been clear and showed she didn't have any bleeding. She couldn't understand why she still couldn't breathe properly.

"They inject dye into your veins, if your blood goes anywhere it shouldn't, we'll see it on the screen."

(Y/n) hummed in response and dared to look up at the screen, but the blurs and grey lines meant nothing to her. She wouldn't be able to tell if there was a leak because (Y/n) couldn't tell what was normal and what wasn't. She looked back at Eddie instead.

It didn’t hurt due to the numbing medication, but it did feel funny. She could feel the wire tube tickling against her thigh, it was like a travelling itch she was desperate to scratch but knew she couldn’t.

"I- I don't like it… Eddie?" (Y/n) could feel her chest tightening and she tried to arch her back up from the bed but she felt the doctor place her hands down on her shoulders. She carefully eased (Y/n) back to get her to lie down. They couldn't have her moving and causing the needle to puncture through her vein, any movement could cause a bleed and (Y/n) was already in a critical state.

"Baby what's wrong?"

Eddie watched the nurse pause, leaving the tube where it was for a moment so they could find out what was wrong and see if they could continue.

He could feel (Y/n)'s hand tightening around his and her breathing started to become deeper and laboured and her body was subtly trembling. She was becoming distressed. But Eddie was watching the screen. There wasn't a leak or a clot or anything to suggest why (Y/n) was suddenly in pain or discomfort.

"Eddie, it hurts," (Y/n) sniffed quietly as she moved their tangled hands down and pressed them down onto her stomach. Her eyes closed and her head moulded back into the pillow as she whimpered in agony.

"Just try and stay still, just a few more seconds mi amor." Eddie moved his free hand to cup her cheek and he leaned down, pressing his wet lips against her temple to try and calm her down. They were almost done, if she could wait just one more minute they could inject the dye and make sure everything was okay in her lungs. Then they could sort whatever else was wrong.

"Injecting the dye now."

The nurse pressed the bottle attached to the end of the tube and injected the dye. All eyes fell to the screen, even as Eddie kept his lips smothering (Y/n)'s temple, he darted his eyes to the left to look up.

The screen turned a darker shade through the white lines that were (Y/n)'s veins and arteries and they zoomed out on the image to see the dye travelling along her blood vessels.

(Y/n)'s body bashed down into the bed and she cried out, smothering her face into Eddie's shoulder when the nurse pressed the base of her hand down on (Y/n)'s upper stomach. She tried to be careful but she couldn't assess (Y/n) without causing her some pain and discomfort.

"There's a blockage in her liver."

"Make it stop!" (Y/n) spat hoarsely as she dug both hands into Eddie's shoulders and cried into his neck.

Trying to breathe in his scent and listen to his heartbeat wasn't calming her down like she hoped and she knew she had to stay still. But it was so hard when all she wanted to do was writhe around and make the pain stop. She wanted to push up into Eddie's arms and wrap herself around him to make the pain go away. It was becoming unbearable.

The nurse carefully retracted the tube from her thigh and as soon as it was out, (Y/n) moved. She pushed around so she was sitting up and flopped forward into Eddie's chest as he slumped to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"Shh, shh I've got you baby." Eddie moved his hand to cup the back of her neck while his other arm wrapped tightly around her waist. He let her pin her chest into his and bind her arms around his neck so tightly it was him who was starting to have the breathing trouble.

His lips pressed against the side of her head and he started to sway them back and forth. Cringing when he felt (Y/n) crying into his neck and shuddering as she gasped for air.

He wanted them to make it stop. Why weren't they helping her?

***

"How do you feel?" Bobby reached out and took (Y/n)'s hand in his as he sat down in the chair beside the bed. He kissed her temple and smiled across at her. She looked a lot better than when they brought her in last night. She was breathing much better and she was a lot calmer and more lucid and relaxed which was great.

He hated to see his daughter in distress like that.

"Better," (Y/n) nodded and leaned her head to the left on Eddie's shoulder when she felt his arm curve around her waist and reel her back into his chest.

She was more than grateful that Eddie hadn't left her side since they turned up here. He only left her to go to the bathroom or to call and check on the kids.

"So the granuloma's gone, completely?" Bobby looked over at Eddie who nodded with a look of relief on his face.

There had been a granuloma in (Y/n)'s liver which caused the blockage. And somehow, the medication that dissolved the blockage had made (Y/n)'s chest a lot better. That meant there must have been a small granuloma in one or even both of her lungs that the scans had missed.

(Y/n) could breathe properly now without rasping or feeling like her chest was crackling with static. She didn't have an oxygen tube under her nose and no more forced air pushing through her system making her throat dry and sore.

"No bleeding or clots and liver is clear, another day in observation and then we can take you home, hm?" Eddie pecked the top of (Y/n)'s head when he felt her smile into his neck.

She just needed another day on the ward so they could be absolutely sure that the granulomas were the only issue she had. And then they could take her back home and Eddie could look after her with Chris and the girls rather than (Y/n) staying here where she wasn't comfortable. She would much rather be back with her family in her own home, in her own bed.

"Are the kids okay?" (Y/n) moved her hand to run up and down Eddie's thigh while she looked across at her dad and squeezed his hand.

May had spent the night with them while Athena came down to check on (Y/n), and then Athena had gone to look after them this afternoon into the evening. Tomorrow Carla was taking them to school and having them in the afternoon and then Eddie would hopefully be taking (Y/n) home and could look after them all from there.

"They're fine, Athena's taken them out to the cinema."

Bobby and Athena were more than used to looking after the kids, they had the three kids every weekend they weren't on shift. They would go to the park, watch the latest movies in the cinema and go on long walks and hikes.

Chris and Iris had been distressed to wake up with May and find out their parents had had to take a trip to hospital during the night, and Mavis wouldn't settle at first. But Athena had calmed them all down and taken them out, promising they could visit (Y/n) soon and Eddie would ring them later and check up on them.

"Can you bring them down later, please?" (Y/n) looked between them both with a tender smile that made them both crumble.

She wanted to see her babies.

She wanted to cuddle them and hold them and show them that she was okay and would be home with them soon. Leaving in the dead of night without telling them wasn't something (Y/n) or Eddie had ever had to do before, they didn't usually have emergencies like that.

"I'm sure Athena will bring them down this afternoon, if you promise to get some rest."

(Y/n) nodded and closed her eyes, tucking her face more into Eddie's shoulder as she shimmied closer to him and wrapped her arms around his middle. She nuzzled her nose against his neck and the touch made him smile, until he realised she was trying to smother a whimper into his skin.

He stayed still and silent, listening intently and watching the way (Y/n) wriggled from side to side like she was trying to get comfy. But when she quietly groaned into his neck, Eddie moved his hand to cup the side of her face. He leaned back and gently moved her head so he could look down at her.

"Everything okay?" He murmured quietly, leaning down to steal a kiss from her lips, but he didn't like the whimper she let out. Or the way she pulled back to press her face into his shoulder.

"I… just feel uncomfy."

(Y/n) kept one arm looped around Eddie's chest but she pressed her other hand against her abdomen and applied some pressure to see if it would help.

She wasn't exactly in pain, but something just didn't feel right.

She lifted her head and opened her eyes, watching with spiking worry as Eddie shuffled off the bed. He tried to keep a calm smile on his face so (Y/n) wouldn't panic and he gently moved his hands to her shoulders and nudged her to lay back against the pillows so he could take a quick look.

"What doesn't feel right?" He asked tenderly and when (Y/n) pressed down on her abdomen again, Eddie pulled back the cover so he could examine her. He was a medic after all and there was no point calling and waiting for a nurse if he could examine her first.

Eddie felt his throat go dry and his eyes instantly moved to look over at his father in law.

Blood was pooling between (Y/n)'s legs.

When Bobby pressed the emergency button, (Y/n) looked down and a broken cry left her lips. Her eyes snapped closed and she dug her head forcefully into the pillows, arching her chest up off the bed as tears began to fall down her face.

What was wrong with her now? Why couldn't she just be okay and be sent home to be with her family? What had she done wrong?

Her hand scrambled out to grab her dad's hand and deadlock his fingers tightly with hers when Eddie examined her.

A quiet groan left her lips and she tried not to pull up her knees when Eddie began pressing his fingertips around her abdomen. He moved from left to right, pressing in tender places until he stopped beneath her bellybutton and applied pressure until (Y/n) cried out. She scrunched her other hand around Eddie's bicep and squeezed, yanking her knees up to her stomach to see if it would lessen the pain.

"Oh baby, you've got a bleed in your bladder. It's okay, shh, we're gonna sort it."

Eddie sat down on the side of the bed near (Y/n)'s shoulder and leaned over to press his lips against her flushed temple. When she looped her free arm around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder, Eddie curled his arms around her back and held her chest up against his.

He knew the nurses were going to have to give (Y/n) an injection. She needed clotting medication to stop the haemorrhaging and she would need an ultrasound to find out where the bleed was coming from in her bladder, and why.

But when he looked across at Bobby, he could see the pain and fury swirling around in his eyes.

What was happening to her?

[lovebugism]

shy! reader & eddie -  “are you okay? is the heat getting to you?” 

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

hi angel! thanks so much for your request!! — the one where you have a hard time telling eddie when you feel bad and he nurses you back to health (hurt/comfort, shy!reader, 1.5k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

You felt a little like the sun was microwaving you.

The golden rays beat down on you most mercilessly, sucking all the energy from your body while simultaneously burning you alive. Once you sprawled out on the quilt Eddie brought for your little trip to Forest Hills Lake, you just laid there — too tired and too sick to do anything else.

The boy stood over you after noticing how uncharacteristically disinterested you were in feeding the ducks. His shadow shielded you from the sun as he poked your thigh with his foot. “Are you dead?” he joked with a lopsided grin you couldn’t see. Your eyes fluttered shut minutes ago, and you didn’t have the strength to open them again.

He knew something was off when you didn’t smile back. He knew something was really wrong when you muttered something vaguely in return that only came out in slurred mumbles. 

Eddie manages to get you up with little help from the you in question. 

Your suddenly exhausted frame leans heavily into his side as he leads you back to the trailer. Though the lake was quite literally in his backyard, the walk home took several minutes longer than usual. Your feet were made of brick and your swimming head had turned the world on its side. It took a world of strength to ascend the three steps of his rickety wooden porch. 

“Here, c’mon,” Eddie hums as he follows you through the squeaking screen door. He walks you the short distance to the couch, putting both hands on your waist to steady you when you start to sway. “Sit down before you give me a heart attack, alright?”

You listen to him, though you don’t exactly hear him. Through your pounding headache and the rushing ocean in your ears, he might as well be talking to you underwater.

“I don’t feel good…” you slur quietly, eyes squeezed shut as you descend slowly onto the couch cushion. Eddie holds onto your elbows as you sit, watching you with attentively wide button eyes.

“I know, doll,” he coos empathetically in return. “I’m gonna go get you some water, okay?”

Your clammy hands grasp his wrist when he lets you go, your grip weak with a barely-there touch. You peer up at him with glassy eyes that swim with unshed tears and leftover sunlight. 

“Don’t go,” you plead in a whisper. Your voice isn’t strong enough to be much louder.

You feel eerily close to passing out. Your head fills with static and you feel dreadfully far away from the world around you. Feeling this sick is scary in itself, but having Eddie so close makes you feel much safer in comparison.

“I’ll be right back. I promise,” he tells you with a soft, pink grin. He slides his palm out of your trembling grip to hold your hand. Your fingers are sweaty and uncharacteristically warm, almost burningly so. “You need some water in your system, babe. That’s probably why you feel so shitty right now.”

You’re too weak to protest any further.

The boy rushes into the kitchen. You vaguely hear his receding footsteps, glasses clattering together, and the hiss of the faucet — but it all sounds so far away. You’re just a countertop over from him, but it feels like lightyears.

Eddie stays gone for exactly four slow blinks. 

Time has become a big ball of nothingness in your nauseous state. It feels like he’s gone for a lifetime and zero seconds flat at the same time. Either way, you’re equally grateful when he returns to you.

“Here you go,” the boy lilts quietly when he’s back in the living room. He ushers the cup of water into your weak hands but keeps a hold of it for a moment or more, just to make sure you’ve got it. “Drink up, doll.”

Your face scrunches in disdain at the thought. You know you’re thirsty, but you feel so queasy that your mouth has started to water. 

“I’m scared I’m gonna puke,” you confess in a nearly inaudible slur. 

“You won’t. I promise,” Eddie assures with a quiet smile. His fingers smooth over your forehead to push away the sweaty tendrils sticking there. You’re hot to the touch — and not even in the way figurative way he always jokes about, like genuinely burning. He singsongs to quell heavy tension, “And even if you do, I’ll clean it up for you, okay?”

The thought of him washing up after you is as heartwarming as it is stomach-churning. 

You sip at the glass just to appease him. The water sloshes gently in the cup along with your trembling hand. It’s not cold, but it’s not warm either — it’s the perfect temperature for someone so fragile suffering from an acute bout of heatstroke. The liquid is soft in your mouth, piercing you somewhere in your soul and making you feel almost instantly better when you swallow it down.

“How’s that?” Eddie coos, still standing over you with a loving sort of concern.

You make an unintelligible noise into your water.

“Do you feel any better? Still feel faint?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble with a feeble shrug. Because you don’t. You still feel weak and burning, but less distant than you had just moments before. You’re not sure what that means, though. “Maybe a little…”

Eddie puts a hand to your forehead, at a loss of what else to do. You’re still hot to the touch, but certainly not as warm as you had been earlier. The whirring A.C. and tap water must be doing the trick, he figures. 

He spreads his palm along your clammy cheek. “You still feel a little sticky…” he tells you.

The words make you feel queasy. You blink up at him with a heavy, glassy gaze. “I feel gross…”

“You’re just sick, babe. It’s okay,” he assures you, laughing softly as he swipes his thumb over the apple of your cheek. His chocolate eyes sparkle when he looks down at you. “I’d hug you if I thought that wasn’t the worst idea in the world.”

The bridge of your nose scrunches at the thought. 

You need Eddie around, but the thought of him touching you any more than this makes you want to be sick. You’ll kiss him absolutely stupid the second you’ve cooled down, though. He won’t be able to peel you off of him, then.

You shake your head in response to his implication, slow and sloppy like a child.

Eddie chuckles. “Exactly. Keep drinking for me, ‘kay?”

He sits down next to you, careful not to jostle you too much. He leaves several inches of agonizing distance between you and finds keeping his hands to himself is a most incorrigible feat. He watches you take ginger sips from the cup and wants so desperately to hold you to his chest until you feel better again. 

He hopes that moment isn’t too far away now.

You feel considerably cooler once the water’s all gone. The leftover sunshine has nearly exited all your pores, allowing the air conditioner to formally pierce your skin. The tap water refreshes you from the inside out.

“Better?” Eddie ponders with raised brows.

You nod lazily.

He exhales in relief through his nose. “Good. You were starting to scare me for a second there.”

You flash him a sheepish glance. “Sorry…”

“It’s not your fault, doll. Don’t apologize,” the boy chuckles. Only you would apologize for feeling so sick — as though it wasn’t something as forced upon you as it was upon him. “I should’ve known better than to take you out today. It was way too hot outside.”

That’s not what he really wants to say. 

If he’d said exactly what he meant, it would’ve gone something like, “I should’ve known better than to take you out today because it was way too hot, and you never tell me when you’re feeling bad.” 

But that isn’t really your fault either. 

Eddie knows how you are. He should’ve checked in on your more. If he hadn’t gotten so distracted, he probably could’ve gotten you inside before the sun almost killed you.

“It’s not your fault, either, Eds,” you tell him rather pointedly, as though you could hear his thoughts.

“No,” Eddie concedes with a shake of his head. “It’s the stupid sun’s fault for making my girl feel so sick.”

And even though he wasn’t exactly trying to make a joke, you laugh at him anyway. It’s just a weak exhale through your nose, but Eddie beams when he sees you finally smiling. 

When his hands start to ache, he finally wonders, “Feel like being touched now?”

You don’t. Not really. Not in the way you’d like him to touch you, anyway. You’d love to be wrapped up in his arms and melt with him in totality, but your swimming head and warm skin disagree with you. 

You reach for the wrist in his lap and put his hand on your thigh — for the sake of feeling him, but not overwhelmingly so.  

It makes Eddie laugh. His palm smoothes over your knee before squeezing you there. “The water did the trick, huh?”

You nod. 

He beams. 

“I love being right,” he lilts, only halfway serious.

“I know you do,” you grumble in response. 

You love him and his smug grin far too much to be genuinely annoyed with him, though. The understanding of this unsaid fact makes his smile widen.

[joelscruff]

name (javier peña/reader)

woke up with this idea in my head and had to write it. it's just a short little thing but hopefully the javi stans like it ~~ rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: smut, doggystyle, dirty talk word count: 628 (this is just a drabble)

You don't even know his name.

He's got you bent over the edge of his bed, the tips of his fingers pressed firmly into the soft skin of your hips. You're completely naked, laid out in front of him bare while he towers over you still fully clothed, his cock hanging heavy through the zipper of his jeans and pressed ever so gently against your wet core. And you can't remember his name.

All you can remember is that he's a DEA agent and that he'd offered to pay you for some information. You'd spoken to him briefly at the bar for about twenty minutes, told him what he needed to know, tried not to be too obvious as your eyes scanned the length of him in the booth. He was a lot older than you, had a mysterious but friendly quality that made you feel safe with him. He smoked during the whole conversation and you'd been drawn to the way his lips wrapped around the filter of his cigarette, the way his gaze dropped to your mouth every so often as you answered his line of questioning.

He'd slipped what you were owed beneath the table then placed his hand, solid and firm, on your thigh.

"How about you come home with me for a little bit?" he'd murmured, tilting his head and stubbing out his cigarette, eyes dark.

And now here you are, hands gripping the sheets in his bed tightly as you feel the wet tip of his cock at your entrance, silently seeking permission as he leans down and presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

"I d-don't remember your name," you gasp out as the head slips inside, wide and hot.

You feel him smile against your skin and he clicks his tongue, leaning back so he's standing over you, the end of his cock laying still inside your cunt.

"You don't remember my name," he echoes back, then slowly begins to slide his cock further inside you, long and thick.

Overwhelmed by his size, you bury your face in the fabric of his duvet, inhaling his masculine scent. You feel his hand on your back as he presses his palm flat against your spine, pushing you down further into the mattress.

"I've got my cock buried in your sweet little pussy and you don't know my name, huh?" he finds this funny, chuckling to himself as he continues to push inside.

"I f-forgot," you whimper, fisting the sheets.

He bottoms out then, his full length stilling inside of you. You moan at the fullness and release the material from your grip, upper body suddenly relaxing now that you've taken all he has to give you. He leans down again and kisses the tender spot behind your ear.

"My name is Javier," he whispers, "But you call me Javi when I'm fucking you good like this, yeah?"

You remember now, remember the way he shook your hand and told you what it was, but you'd been too distracted by how large his hand was compared to yours that you'd barely registered the name. Even then, in those first few seconds of meeting him, you somehow knew you'd end up in his bed.

"Please move," you whimper, shuffling back a bit and whining at the sensation of how stuffed you are with his cock, "Please."

"What's my name, baby?" he murmurs, hands gripping your waist as his thick fingers splay against your lower back, "Whose cock do you have deep inside this pretty pussy right now?"

"Javi," you breathe, closing your eyes.

"That's right," his hips suddenly snap back, cock leaving you completely before slamming back inside so deep that you see stars, "And Javi's gonna take care of you, baby."