#but the muscle in the back of my jaw hurts so bad

[heyclickadee]

Back to wanting to eat that bacta gel.

[belovedmusings]

Am I Playing All Right Now?

Kento Nanami x You

Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’. 

Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion

Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)

A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)

Read below cut:

The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks. 

You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–

He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–

“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners. 

“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”

His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”

Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”

He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”

“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”

“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”

“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”

That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”

It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”

“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”

The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”

“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”

“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”

He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”

“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”

“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.

Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”

He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.

“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained. 

“Maybe I want dangerous.”

He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him. 

He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.

Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Expensive?”

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”

A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.

He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.

Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.

“Can I?”

Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.

Oh.

No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.

You nod.

“Words.”

Oh, damn.

“Yes, you can.”

“Good girl.”

You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.

“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.

“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.

Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”

A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”

“Yeah.”

Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.

“Still good?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your next breath is shaky. “More.”

He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.

“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”

“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”

“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”

He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing. 

You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.

“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”

“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”

You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.

What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?

Wait. Just a little bit.

“What about just the tip?”

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.

Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.

Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”

Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out. 

“Let me decide that.”

His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you. 

As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.

You want more. 

You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.

Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes. 

It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.

Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.

In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”

The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.

You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins. 

You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.

A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.

“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.

All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you. 

“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.

“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.

“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”

The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”

“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”

Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts. 

“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”

“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”

You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”

He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way. 

“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.

The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it. 

“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.

His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.

It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.

You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure. 

Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.

Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.

“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”

You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out. 

“Don’t do that again.”

The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to test your limits.”

__

A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.

[milo-is-rambling]

Why am I so tempted to lay flat on my bedroom floor instead of just laying in my bed

[evie-sturns]

mornings - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when your best friend matt sleeps over for the night, the last thing you expected was him waking up with a boner the next morning.

contains: nsfw, sub!matt, handjob, fluff, bestfriend!matt.

---------------------------------------------------------

10:32am

i stir in bed with a small groggy groan, wiping my eyes as i come to conciouseness.

my best friend matt had slept over last night, hes now lying next to me in bed, wearing a pink baby tee, and some pyjama pants.

i roll over in bed, my leg brushing against his. my hand flops lazily onto matts thigh.

a sharp gasp from matt fills the room. followed by frantic shuffling.

i slowly open my eyes, to see matt.

his pants are at his mid thighs, his shirt is bunched up around his small waist and his hand is wrapped firmly around his cock.

my eyes widen instantly, i sit up on my elbows as my jaw goes slack.

"matt!?" i exclaim,

he frantically tugs up his pyjama pants, a grimace on his face.

his cheeks are now a deep red as he lets out a small whine of embarrasment.

he's still visibly hard through the thin fabric of his pyjama pants after being interrupted...

"i am- so sorry-" matt coughs out,

he palms his face, squeezing his eyes shut.

"its- its okay." i breathe,

"that is so embarrassing i swear to goddd.." matt groans,

i laugh slightly, "definitely unexpected." i smile.

matt covers his face with his hands, silence filling the rooom.

"you should finish the job." i blurt out, breaking the silence.

matt drops his hands from his face, his eyebrows raised. "what?"

i sit up on the bed, matt sits up against the headboard, watching my every move.

i trace my fingers over his waistband, "you're still hard, it hurts doesnt it?"

matt nods shyly, his hands shaking slightly.

i dont even know what i'm doing at this point, i guess after seeing him so exposed, i want to see him do more... so bad to the point my desperation is just taking over my normal thoughts.

my hand slides down the fabric of his pyjama pants, just above the large tent in his pants.

"please?-" matt breathes, his eyebrows knit together.

his pale cheeks are a deep hue of pink, small beads of sweat start to form on his harline.

"please what?" i question teasingly.

"please touch me." matt chokes out, his eyes fixed on my hand.

"tell me what you want me to do to you." i tell him,

matt starts to speak, but i cut him off.

"look at me when you speak matt."

he nods, swallowing harshly before looking over at me nervously.

"i need you- i need you to touch me." matt says, his eyes fixed on mine.

i grin, nodding slightly.

i tug down his pyjama pants back down to his mid thighs, his erection springing out instantly.

"why didnt you tell me you were so big?" i whisper, staring into matts eyes.

i hold my palm up to matts chin,

"spit."

matts eyebrows furrow, "what-! what?"

"you heard me, spit." i repeat myself.

"thats disgus!-" matt starts, but i cut him off.

"i guess i wont touch you then, because that would be even more disgusting wouldnt it."

matt looks up at me with puppy eyes, before spitting into the palm of my hand.

"good boy" i whisper.

i gently take his length into my palm, a sharp gasp escapes his red lips.

i squeeze the base of his cock lightly,

"oh my god!" matt squeaks, his brown hair flopping down infront of his eyes.

matts wraps his hand around my own, urging me to go faster.

i move his hand off of mine, placing it by his side.

“i need to- please just do it.” matt rambles on,

i slowly start to stroke his length,

“oh-“ he gasps, matt keeps eye contact with me the whole time through his half shut eyes.

his brown hair sticks to his pale forehead, and the muscles in his lower stomach tense.

i run my thumb over the slit on his tip, he sucks in a sharp breath, his veiny hands gripping the sheets harder.

“you’re doing so well for me.” i praise matt, continuing to run my hand up and down his dick, i squeeze him harder as i go higher up.

“thank- thank you-“ he squeezes out breathlessly.

"yeah?" i smirk,

i run my nails over his lower tummy, gently lifting his pink shirt up his torso to reveal his stomach more, mainly so he doesn't make a mess of his shirt when he cums.

"im so close y/n-!" matt whimpers,

he bucks his hips up into my hand, a loud whine escaping his pouty lips.

"let go matt, 'm right here." i say softly,

matt squeezes his eyes shut, a guttural moan escaping his mouth.

he finally releases,

spurts of white hit his lower stomach and just the bottom of his shirt,

i continue to slowly pump him through his orgasm as he rides it out,

matts hands let go of the bedsheets, his face completely flushed and his leg shaking slightly.

suddenly it hits me.

this is my bestfriend, that ive just made cum. he probably wasn't even fully thinking he was just horny and-

my thoughts get cut off by matts croaky voice,

"that was- so 'fuckin hot." he mumbles groggily,

"that was normal right? like friends do that all the time for eachother-?" i ramble nervously, anxious that ive crossed a boundry,

"yeah- totally normal." matt instantly replies, not sounding too sure of himself.

"yeah.." i respond,

"even if its not a 'normal' thing for friends to do, can we make it normal? 'cause i dont think i've came that hard in years."

-------

THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR 7K THATS INSANITY!! hope you liked this one!!

@downbad4reid

sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s@ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonly @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72

[myfamilycrestisthedemonofdeath]

I'm thinking of how the 141 men react to you cracking your joints, either purposefully in Price's case, or accidentally on the others. Suggestive towards the end , MDNI

~~~

Like with John, you do that trend where you put pretzel sticks inside your mouth and ask him to pop your back and then bite down into the pretzels as you act limp. He'll immediately pick you up and start rushing you out of the door to bring you to an ER, panic evident in his face, jaw clenched, but his eyes are focused. He looks at you sternly when you explain to him what happened before bringing you back inside the room, still in his arms, and you can still feel his heart racing, muscles still tense but calming down as you soothe him, feeling bad about your prank.

You're laying on your stomach on the floor in Simon's case, just being in the way of where he wants to move, maybe with various objects around you as you are occupied with your phone. He'll ask you to relocate your activities, but you refuse to get up, and so he warns he'll just walk over you. He nudges your side with his foot, and when you just grunt at him, he places his foot on your lower back and exerts slight pressure, eliciting a groan from you until you both hear a loud pop from your back. He'll drop immediately to his knees, not minding if some of your stuff is digging into his legs as he worriedly checks on you, checking multiple times that he didn't hurt you. You just tell him how good that felt as you lay limply, assuring him that you are okay, that was a good pop. He'll then carefully pick you up and move you to your bed even with you protesting, and then comes back with all your stuff and rearranging them around you.

Maybe in Johnny's case, you two are sparring, he's got you in between him and the ground mat. Both of you sweaty as he tries to subdue you while you are doing your best to fight him off. He gets you into a headlock with his (strong, meaty) biceps, and you twist your head a little. Both of you froze as you hear your neck joints pop, and he quickly loosens his hold on you, cradling your neck with utmost gentleness, worriedly asking if you are okay and if you can still feel your limbs. He'll lay you down gently and refuse to let you get up until you assure him multiple times that your neck just popped, it didn't hurt and you are fine. He'll beam his worried blue eyes over you and refuse to continue sparring, opting to just hug you protectively into his chest after, leaving you with no choice but to be sticky with both of your sweat cooling off.

Or you are making out with Kyle, his big, warm hands roaming over your body, your curves, as you grab at his slender neck, both consumed in fiery passion. You gently push him off you, away from the wall where you both heatedly started when your simmering gazes and coy words weren't enough to dampen the heat in between, and you guide him towards the sofa, him falling back on it with your nudge, his brown eyes roaming over you appreciatively. You slot your lips with him again, trying to clamber over and straddle him, when you hear not just one but both of your knees pop as you try to settle. He pries his mouth off you urgently, moving you to relieve pressure off your knees by sitting you sideways in his lap, inspecting and checking over as you laughingly told him it was just your joints cracking. Oh you best believe he will be the only one on his knees when he picks you up and brings you to your bedroom.

~~~

Power is out in my house since last night due to thunderstorm, which is apparently when my creative juices start flowing. I'm glad I'm a prepper who has a powerbank for my phone as well as a battery-powered fan, a bunch of flashlights, and a hand-crank emergency radio/flashlight/charger

[sleep-0-deprived]

dimitriii i have an ideia !!

could u write a dom!toji x bunny! younger reader smut? where the bunny boy its just so cute and toji wants to fuck him silly and breed him all the time

Cuffing season~

A/n I like the way you think! Cause some bunny boy breeding is exactly what Toji needs so I hope I did your fantasy justice and enjoy ;]

Female aligned and mdni this is an 18+ blog with nsfw below the cut

Mating season, the bunny version of cuffing season was here for you and here you were needy desperate with your bunny ears laying flat as you hump toji’s pillow all hard leaking pre cum all over it while he’s gone.

“Someone’s in a mood isn’t he?” Toji asks as he stands in the doorway raising a brow watching you try to please your self with his pillow as your purr with your bunny tail wiggling above your ass cheeks “y-out back early!” You quickly stop rutting into his pillow pulling away flushed “no no, don’t stop cause I’m here baby?”

Shutting the bedroom door he walks closer pulling his shirt off showing his muscular chest as he grips your hips pulling you closer as he places one hand on your bunny tail rubbing at it as he lifts you up with ease pushing you up on the bed further gripping your bunny ears shoving your face into the pillows flipping you on your stomach “Toji please~”

“Does bunny boy need a cock in em that bad?” Toji grunts out pulling his sweat pants off then pulling off his boxers as you lay face down ass up wiggling your ass back and forth trying to get him to fuck you but instead only reviving a harsh slap to your right ass cheek “o ow hurts!”

You yelp out “cmon stop actin like a slut or ill treat ya like one bunny~” he groans smacking your other cheek as he massages them pulling your cheeks apart and spiting on your ass hole.

“Mhm Toji~” you moan reaching your hand back when he pulls his boxers down as you grab his cock while laying face down ass up, your hand guiding his tip to your rim pressing him to it rubbing around his spit as he holds your hips up “fuck, boy” he moans as he snaps his hips forward without warning filling you up “o-Oh hah~!”

Your eyes going wide pulling at the bed sheets your jaw slack as you feel his whole girth stretching you out just like your body craves as you lay in heat turning dumb off his cock with your fluffy bunny ears flicking letting your head droop down “see that all ya needed bunny? A cock to stuff ya wide open”

Toji speaks lewdly one hand gripping your hip tightly as your rim stretches out wide around his cock and your gummy walls clenching sucking his cock back in as you picked around him.

“Fwuah! To—ah” you arch you back as your body heats up feeling his tip rutting right against your prostate making your breaths rigid feeling his pressure inside you “such a sloppy bunny look at ya!”

Grinning as he fucks you with you as dripping and creating your own slick from being in heat, your juices coating his shaft while he slaps your ass cheek hard then pulls on your cotton tail “nhg~ so full~”

“Just like that boy” leaning down into your ear as he pulls you back on his cock further taking a mounting position with him on your back shoving your face into his pillow as he harshly pulls on your bunny ears “m mhm!”

Screaming into your pillow and crying out gripping the sheets feeling his muscle mass on top of you pinning you into the bed fucking you harshly making your ass hole start to burn for being stretched so long but your too cock drunk to care.

“Always so tight aren’t cha?” Grunting in your ear being condescending as his tongue licks over his scar while snapping his hips forward making his groin slap your ass cheeks hard enough for them to turn red while you lay in a daze blabbering incoherently lost in the feeling of getting your heat handled by him “ofhm ohm T-o-Ji~”

drooling and pressing your face in the pillow all fucked out and fisting your sheets as the bed rocks back and forth with toji’s force and weight on top of you.

“Aww already close? And here I thought my bunny could last longer, tsk” Toji says with disdain as he keeps fucking you making your cock jump all hard and neglected as your tip drips needs of pre cum into the sheets before your stomach tightens up shooting cum all over yourself as you gasp loudly drooling into the pillows arching your back like a cat crying out as your hole convulses around him milking him.

“O-ahh Toji~!” Crying out as his cock twitches one last time slamming into you hitting up agaisnt your prostate making your bunny ears droop down on your head lewdly and your bunny tail stop twitching as his cock throbs.

Toji keeps shooting his load deep inside you shooting white ropes painting your insides in a thick coating making your heat feel satisfied as you start relaxing your fists no longer gripping harshly,

“Good bunny, just needed to be bred didn’t cha?” Toji hums in your ears as he gives them a few rough pets kissing on your neck slowly pumping his hips back and forth making sure his load goes deep putting pressure on your prostate as your heat starts to rise back up again

But oh well you were a bunny and bunny’s have high stamina right! Looks like you and Toji are in for a long night of breeding.

[kooberryfields4ever]

lucky

hello !!!!!!! was not expecting this to get as long as it did nor did i expect the turn but what can i say i am a creature driven by self satisfaction……… :( anyways originally this was gonna be like a 1k max drabble bc i rewatched jks sleepy eepy sweetie live and he was twitching and looked so pretty that i HAD to write something domestic !!!! but i am an ANIMAL and thinking about jungkook sleepy in the morning made me feral😇 hope u enjoy!!!!!!!!

wc: 2500+

content warnings : fluff & smut below the cut, light nipple play, fingering, jungkook has a cute panty kink(?), jungkook is an unstoppable force, unprotected piv sex, gendered terms (the word “girl” is used & detailed desc of female anatomy), messy orgasm

MDNI !

You’ve been awake for ten minutes now, just watching Jungkook twitch in his slumber. It’s early morning – a little after 8:00AM – and he looks so unbelievably beautiful under the gentle sunlight flittering through the blinds. With a soft smile on your lips, your eyes trail over his eyebrows, paying attention to how they raise and drop in his unconsciousness, moving down to his relaxed jaw and the divots of his shoulder blades when your gaze lowers. The gentle rise and fall of his back as he breathes and the fist that keeps clenching and unclenching while you lay beside him makes your smile widen. Jungkook is a breath-taking sight, looking so at peace while you observe him. His muscles are softer in their unflexed state and you can’t help it when your finger finds his right triceps and paints shapes over it. His tattoos are next on your list of targets, and soon your wandering finger is tracing the inked motifs like you’re re-carving them into his skin, following the lines and curves of the patterns as if they were new to you.  

They are very much not new to you, though. You think you’ve studied them over a hundred times, committed them to memory, made them so indelible in your mind that you’re sure you could redraw them perfectly if he ever asked. You chance at moving your touch to his fingers, watching his face amusedly when you lift his hand to inspect them and he furrows his brow. The soft letters adorning the bones of his joints are met with the pad of your thumb as you stroke them adoringly, fighting the desperate urge to kiss his calloused palm when the tips of your fingers press against the rough skin. Your fingers don’t get to explore for long before he opens a single eye suspiciously, curling his fingers around your hand to stop you. 

“Good morning,” his voice is deeper, sluggish, yet gentle still through the rasp. “You having fun?” 

“I was,” you smirk, intertwining your fingers with his instinctually, “until you so rudely interrupted me.” His thumb rubs your knuckles sleepily, bringing them to his lips for a chaste kiss, turning onto his back, pulling you closer to his chest and tucking his other hand behind his head. 

“Mm, my bad.” Comes his short reply, blinking his eyes open once again to find yours. His fingers card through your hair when you sit up on your elbows, leaning against his solid frame. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip while you allow yourself to continue observing him from above now that he’s awake.  

“Do you know you twitch a lot in your sleep?” You ask, reaching over to rub some sleep from the corner of his eye. Your thumb runs over his cheek, then down to his lower lip, dragging it down playfully and watching it bounce back when you let go abruptly. He shakes his head slightly to answer your question but sits quietly, content to just let you fiddle, fondly mirroring the smile you offer him when you lean forward to press your foreheads together. “I should’ve filmed it. You almost knocked me out.” 

“Instead of leaving me in peace?” He quirks a brow, tilting his head back to press a kiss to your lips quickly before lowering it again. “I don’t think I’m capable of hurting you, even if I’m unconscious. It’s written out of my biological code.”  

You giggle, shaking your head. “As if I would’ve let you anyway, we both know I'd win in a fight.” 

Your lips chase his naturally, and he hums sweetly when you connect them again, smirking. “Is that a challenge?” He mumbles into your mouth, you feel his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer still before flipping you onto your back effortlessly. He continues kissing you like that. 

“Because I really beg to differ,” he ruses, trailing a hand down to the back of your thigh to hold your leg up against his hip. “Think I’d win in a heartbeat.” Another kiss. “How easy was it for me to get you like this?” His hips move against yours in a slow motion, making you very aware of a growing presence between his legs as it presses against you through all your layers of clothing. 

“You play dirty, that’s why,” you joke back, pushing your palm against his forehead. He moves away from your lips to attach his mouth to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone delicately, the same way your fingers did to him minutes ago. “Caught me off guard, that’s- that’s not fair,” the small moan that leaves you after your stutter is unintentional. Curse Jungkook and how easily your body gives in to his ministrations. You loathe the way he seems to revel in it too, snickering when he moves his hips again. 

You lean your head back against the pillows when he pushes your tank top up over your tits and you can feel his lips enclose around your nipple. It’s not a fair fight, Jungkook knows that. Knows that when his teeth brush against the darker flesh it’ll pebble against his tongue. Knows that when his hands slip down past your waist and hips, your legs will spread instinctually for him. Knows that when your fingers tangle in his hair, he’s got you.  

“Could die between your tits,” His muffled voice knocks you out of your pleasured trance, and you hum in acknowledgement. He’s resting his face between your breasts rather lovingly now, kissing the skin between them with a hand on your waist. The hand tangled in his hair falls to his nape, scratching at the baby hairs grown out from his last haircut.  

“I wouldn’t encourage you to.” 

“Couldn’t be the worst fate.” 

His response has you rolling your eyes, “No, a worse fate would be me beating you to a pulp because you thought you’d win in a wrestling match against me.” He chuckles, looking up at you and resting his chin on your chest with a soft pout. 

“Seemed to like my approach a second ago,” he murmurs, crawling back up your body to kiss you again. There’s no underlying motive behind it, he just really likes your lips on his. You give in because, despite your argumentative nature, you like his lips too. He kisses you lazily, knee slotted between your legs, half-heartedly holding his body up to stop himself from leaning all of his weight on you. Your arms drape naturally over his shoulders and around his neck to keep him there, and you can feel his smile against your lips. 

“You still hard?” His only response is the subtle grind of his hips against yours in affirmation and a slight lowering of his hand on your waist, on a slow but steady mission. 

“Should I be offended that you don’t seem to be doing anything about it?” 

“Gettin’ to it, jus’ let me kiss you.” He licks into your mouth sweetly, chasing the taste of you. Tries to pull you impossibly closer when you chuckle, spurring him on even more. He bites your lower lip, his wandering hand finally slipping past the waistband of your pyjama pants and brushing over your underwear. You can feel him smirk when he finds the small bow on the front, parting from your lips to slip your pants down to get a good look at them. They’re childish, pink and polka dotted and old; you’ve had them since before you and Jungkook even started dating but hardly wear them anymore. 

“Cute.” Is all he says, and you roll your eyes before reaching down to pull them off. He grabs your wrists, meeting your eyes sternly. “Keep ‘em on.” 

You slip your hands from his grasp, nodding hesitantly but obediently. You watch him curiously when he focuses his entire attention on your clothed pussy, entranced by it, pressing his fingers against the damp fabric to watch it cling to the shape of you, darkening with your arousal. 

“Fuck, they’re so cute, baby,” he babbles, not really even speaking directly to you, just thinking out loud, “can I fuck you with them on?” He asks sweetly, kissing your chest and keeping an eye on you as he waits for your answer. You nod, combing your fingers through his hair when he peppers more kisses across your tits as a thank you. He pushes the fabric aside slightly to gain access to your pussy with no restrictions, not hesitating to sink his middle and index fingers past your opening. He knows you’re wet enough, preening when he hears your breaths turn to soft moans. He’s so familiar with your body now that curling his fingers up against your g-spot is second nature to him. You encourage him wordlessly, watching him work while his head still rests on your chest.  

He knows you, so when you start to tighten around him and your moans turn into held breaths, he withdraws from you. You go to protest, furrowing your brow annoyedly, but he shushes you.  

“Gonna have you come on my dick, baby.” There’s a brief pause while he separates from you to push his boxers down and take your pyjamas bottoms fully off too, grunting when he strokes himself languidly above you before rubbing his tip between your dripping folds, still fascinated by the panties he made you keep on. 

“So pretty,” he coos, and for lack of better judgement, you nod. “So fuckin’ wet, love when you get like this for me. All for me.” He’s egging you on, coating himself in your arousal and pressing his forehead to yours when he sinks the mushroom tip of his cock past your opening. It’s calculated and slow, you think it’s to tease you, to prolong your frustration even longer; truthfully, it’s because Jungkook is embarrassingly close and wants to make himself last as long as he can. 

“You wore these the first time I fucked you,” he admits, sinking deeper into your walls and breathing against your lips, “all I could think about for the rest of that week was getting to fuck you again, you were so perfect.” He pulls out slowly, before pushing back in, deeper this time. You let out a half-moan, half-breath, and he repeats until he’s fully seated inside of you. 

“Wanted to fuck you with them on then, too, thought they were so cute.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Thought it was pervy, thinking your panties were cute and wanting to keep them on,” he chuckles, kissing you gently and quickening the pace of his hips to fuck you faster, “think you would’ve thought I was a creep, wouldn’t have let me. Was easier to make you think I just wanted to take my time undressing you.” 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have.” 

“Mm, you’re well trained now.” 

His words get him a slap at the back of his head, and he laughs with you. The amusement doesn’t last long however, and soon he’s hiding his face in your shoulder to piston his cock in and out of you. You curse under your breath, letting him grip your thigh to guide your knee to your chest, wanting to fuck you deeper. He tuts, frustrated at the fact that he can’t get as deep as he wants, and soon your knees are over his shoulders with his hands holding your hips while he fucks you vigorously. He’s grunting animalistically, his tip prodding your cervix over and over, the corona of his cock rubbing deliciously against your g-spot every time he pulls back.  

“Touch yourself.” He instructs from your shoulder. It’s gentle, you know he doesn’t mean to come across as commanding but you like it anyway. You’re quick to obey, of course, and soon you’re trailing a hand down to your own pussy to start rubbing at your clit. He wants you to finish, that much is apparent, and you assume it’s because he’s trying to hold off his own orgasm for you. It’s wordless between you when you feel the familiar band in your stomach begin to tighten, and your free hand wanders across his broad back, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades in such a contrasting way to how you were so gentle only ten minutes ago. He grunts, knows you’re close because you’re clenching around him and he can feel you holding your breath. He kisses your collarbone as silent encouragement, and a few more strokes has you coming undone around him, finally releasing your breath and pulsing around him in a way that has you nearly pushing him out. 

“Gonna come, where you want it?” He asks quietly, knows your answer but wants to hear it. You always want it inside, and Jungkook is always more than happy to oblige. 

“On my panties.” Comes your surprising reply, and Jungkook’s pupils dilate to proportions you didn’t think were physically possible. He stops moving, dropping his grip on your hips to brace his hands against the sides of your head and hold himself up above you.  

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” he jokes, dipping down to kiss you fervently, picking up the pace of his hips again, “you’re so fucking perfect, you want me to come all over your panties, baby? Want me to make a mess?” 

You’re not stupid, you know as much as the next girl that if there’s anything a man likes more than coming inside, it’s staking his claim. Of course, semen washes off - but the thought of Jungkook painting your panties white even makes your stomach flip. You nod, and he doesn’t need any more persuasion before he pulls out of you and sits up in order to stroke himself, a singular goal in mind. Your panties are still tucked to the side so he can see all of you as his fist pumps his cock quickly. You observe him, his cock is still wet from your arousal and his tip is so swollen and red that you’re unsure how he lasted even this long. As expected, he doesn’t last very long, and soon thick white ropes of come are shooting from his tip and coating your pussy and the fabric of your panties. He’s shuddering, curling over on himself before collapsing beside you on the bed. 

“C’mere,” he pants out, slipping his arms around your middle and pulling you toward him, “this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” 

“Really wasn’t, I was doting on you.” 

“Feeling me up is ‘doting’ now?” 

You push him away playfully, but he keeps his grip on you, laughing when you turn around to get away from him. He pulls you back towards him and spoons you.  

“I was being cute and you made it pervy, like always.” He can hear the pout in your voice, so he mumbles something in agreement. Knows there’s no winning here when he just came all over your panties like some kind of neanderthal. He rubs his hand over your belly, kissing your shoulder blade affectionately to keep you close. Your own hands cover his, intertwining your fingers once again and snuggling sweetly into him. 

a/n 🗒️ as always tysm for reading !!! if u have anything to say pls do i love to hear from ppl and reflecting on criticism is my driving force 💆‍♀️ reqs/asks are open !!!!

[zwhoreo]

can i request some slutty luffy? just fuck me up fam ☠️

AHH i think this is so beautiful and one of my fav smuts i’ve written!!! :’)

hunger - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: luffy gets incredibly horny, and he’s confusing lust with hunger

contains: mating press, praise, marking (reader receiving)

words: 2.4k

_______________________________

Luffy’s alone. He thinks, right now, of touch. And his body is sweaty from the day and from his yearning mind, he’s shirtless because an hour ago he lit on fire beneath his skin, he’s been simmering ever since, and it’s healed, somehow, by touch. So his fingers dig into the grooves of his abs, he likes to feel them flex and shift as he traces every corner, mouth open, drooling onto the glass of the porthole. He left his bed an hour ago when he lit on fire beneath his skin. His blanket became too hot, his mind too full to fall asleep. He’s thinking about food now, juicy fruits that drip down his throat, melted cheese, the greasy, fatty pieces of steak that slide so slowly along his tongue.

He rubs his stomach because he’s hungry, that’s it. There’s a burning within him, starvation but if it was beautiful. He needs food right now but he knows, somehow, that food won’t do anything for him, not really. And if he rubs his stomach because he’s hungry then why does his hand go lower, down beneath his waistline, tugging at the hair down there because, why? Why does this feel good? Why is he moaning, little whimpers that fog the glass, what does he need? He thinks of touch. Skin on skin. That’s it, skin on skin.

You’re probably alone. Moonbeams sail one by one from the east with the wind and blackening sky as the sunset turns lilac, fading, gold waves turning silver, copper. Translucent silk the color of the sunset hangs from your shoulders, a slip so loose it barely covers your chest. It isn’t cold tonight and you’re not tired. You saw dolphins this evening and you wonder if you can see them again before the water disappears in the night. Everyone else is already asleep. You hope that when you’re tired you can find Luffy, who’s probably asleep, and curl up with him as everything drifts away.

But as the ocean laps at the ship and you’re calmed by the gentle rocking you feel, suddenly, arms from behind. Arms that run over yours, hands massaging your wrists up to your shoulders. A distinct smell, the feeling of hot rubber, this is Luffy and he’s so, so warm. And his breathing is so heavy in your ear. He places his chin on your shoulder and it’s covered in drool, he begins to slowly lick your neck as he pulls you closer. You haven’t even said hi before he has you in his lap, squeezing your waist from behind. His licks turn to kisses, and then to bites, all over your upper back and then a wet, raw trail up to your jaw. He’s groaning with want, no words yet, he has too many things he wants to say.

“Hi Luffy,” you murmur with a little smile, reaching back to pet his face which is burning up and flushed. His tongue laps your cheek, he’s an excited puppy, you feel his teeth now so you ask gently, “what’s up?”

“Gonna eat you,” he says in a quiet, gravely voice, right into your ear. He whines after this in desire, in hunger, he’s lustful and desperate.

“Yeah?” You lean back against him. His arms are so tight, he’s trying to wrap you up and crush you like a python. And you can feel his heartbeat race in every muscle.

“Mh, ‘cause you’re real pretty. And I’m hungry so I’m gonna eat you.” He’s almost trying to take a bite out of your neck now, his teeth are sharp but his tongue is soothing, he moans because he likes the flavor. “Real pretty…” he hisses again beneath his breath.

You turn so you’re facing him. He needs a kiss right now and he doesn’t hesitate to grab your face and dive in, writhing tongue slipping greedily between your lips. And there’s a gentleness here too, his hand moves to the back of your head, stroking your hair adoringly. He isn’t going to hurt you he just needs you so, so bad and he doesn’t really know how or why or what he should say.

“God, Luffy.” You’re quiet, muffled by his mouth. And just hearing your voice again clouds his mind.

“Love ya, love ya so much,” he says in between moans and kisses. His nails scrape at your chest, delighted by softness, something to grab onto, more to squeeze. “I wanna play, please can we play?”

Trying to get on top of you he’s leaning over you and pulled by instinct, he wants you straddling him but he wants to be on top at the same time. He’s just a tangle of limbs right now, saliva dripping messily onto your neck.

“Of course I’ll play with you.” You’re blushing, eyes closing but he’s squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him, huge sparkling eyes as deep as the Mariana look down on you.

Luffy begins to laugh. Just a breathy giggle at first, blowing air between his teeth in a little joyful hiss. And then his mouth opens, he laughs more, louder, that’s what he does when he’s excited and when he knows he’s about to get something that he wants so, so bad. And then it fades to giggles again, and he stills for a moment, no movement except his chest. Rise and fall, rise and fall. He’s just looking at you.

And then he licks his lips. He dives in.

You make a small sound, surprised and unable to react in time, as Luffy plants his feet firmly on the deck, your thighs slamming his stomach as your legs are thrown over his shoulders. And you’re bent, folding tighter and tighter as Luffy crouches over you. His arms encircle your legs and your back and your waist and constrict again, his legs are spread and ready, twitching, hips pressing yours. He’s forgetting, probably, that you aren’t as flexible as he is.

“This is good, Lu, this right here,” you manage to choke out because you often have to remind him what your body can and can’t take.

He mumbles a little apology and does a once over with his eyes, he wants to make sure that you aren’t hurt but, at the same time, he’s letting his gaze linger on your body, on the silk slip that’s fallen as your waist curls upwards and your breasts are bare now, so delicious, he’s drooling again. You’re tasty, you’re his.

This must take so much strength, the way he’s perched on his toes over your body, his thigh muscles clench and ripple against yours. Shared sweat, shared warmth. His balance is perfect even as he reaches for your chest, rubbing, holding, kissing, now he’s kissing your lips, now your neck. He doesn’t want this ever to be over.

And he says, “I love ya so much.” That’s the third time he’s said it.

“I love you too,” you say with such joy even as you’re breathless still, but before you can finish he’s pressing his mouth to yours hungrily. You said you loved him and he wants to taste it — the flavor of those words — it’s all-consuming.

“Tastes so good, mmh,” Luffy gasps as he takes you into this hot, wet kiss, “can’t wait, wanna play now.”

You’re not sure how he did it from this position, but his pants are off, kicked to the side. His cock is aching and leaking already and smoldering against your stomach, you can see it from here, throbbing and waiting, skin so smooth and thin and perfect like auburn moth wings over red-hot iron.

His chest crashes against yours in a tidal wave now because this new vulnerability makes him want to be closer. Now you can’t see it anymore but god, it’s so hard it feels like he’s denting you, so long and thick like a python, he’s still holding you, and squeezing more and more. Like a python.

With so much pressure he wraps his hands around lower, lower, snapping your panties, thrusting against your stomach in a way that shakes your body but he’s got you. You’re in his arms.

Begging eyes so close to yours, mouth on your lips and cheek, breathing so fast and so warm and he whispers, “can I?” And it’s so scratchy and kind and needy so deep in his throat.

So you pull his hair, you kiss him, yes.

Rolling back on his heels he finds his way, sloppy thrusts that don’t quite make it but god when they do, he isn’t going all the way even though his every nerve craves you but you’re his baby and he can’t hurt you.

Thick tip so soft and gentle, butterfly wings and flowers, impossibly hard and aching in heartbeat rhythms against your clit, moving you with every pulse, searching and desperate like a moth to a flame he finds you.

Shivers that make you clench your legs against his shoulders as he rubs and rubs back and forth and hugs your body and bites your cheek and murmurs, “that feel good? Ya like that?” with such curiosity like he really wants to know, he wants an answer.

“Perfect, so perfect. Please, I need you.” Words in his ear like shooting stars lighting up his body like the darkening sky. He’s made of ochre sunbeams.

He smiles and laughs and with another quick kiss he’s finding you more. Muscles flex and as he leans forward onto you he’s there, right there. He starts to moan loudly and whisper about how happy he is but it’s Luffy so it’s not a whisper, really. He’s not even inside you yet. He’s just so, so excited.

“Feels so good, so good. C’mere,” he giggles against you happily and makes sure he holds you as he’s pushing into your body, you’re filled in an instant and more and more every second.

Amid the panting and moaning you can almost hear that heartbeat and those pulsing veins buried in you. You’re dented again but from the inside now. With a little mh, Luffy finds his home so, so deep. You’re in a cocoon of warmth, wrapped in the sun, filled by the sun, melting.

“My girl’s so pretty, gotta bite, gonna bite.” Those teeth again and their practiced, hungry chewing. He swallows on instinct, abs vibrating and tightening against your skin as his stomach purs. And he’s rocking into you, back and forth on his toes, enjoying that deep, tight massage. He’s inside you, he’s trying to eat you, trying to get you inside him, too.

You’re going to be covered in marks but that’s ok. You like hearing him groan and laugh against you, and something about that swallowing, his throat flexing against your shoulder, that’s so beautiful to feel.

“Mine, ‘kay? Mine.” Luffy’s talking the whole time through his laughter and you’re swept away by him as he continues to crush your body from the inside over and over, tidal waves on a cliff’s edge, he makes whirlpools in you.

“This is so fun, you’re so fun, so pretty,” he keeps huffing and you hear this over and over as he squirms and wriggles on your body, thrusts shallower because he can’t bear to pull out of you any more than he needs to. Luffy wants to be close and never leave.

He tries to have conversations with you that just spill into unending praise. You’re too dizzy and lost in this world of feeling to respond most of the time but you kiss him whenever he wants, you tell him he’s beautiful and that he feels so good whenever your voice is there.

He’s swelling in you, veins bulging and rubbing so far up inside you that you feel him throbbing in your stomach, his twitching cock encouraged by your clenching, leaking, every muscle wracked with craving and overstimulation.

“Gonna fill you up ‘cause you’re real pretty,” he laughs against your lips, twisting into you deeper still, “gotta make ya all mine.” He still sounds so sweet and so soft, just a playful little puppy.

Even as he groans and begins to pump you full.

Love feels like this, love is raw and endless like this, love makes you float away. You close your eyes and now he lets you, you just hold him, you let the rhythm carry you and it feels like so long until he’s done. He doesn’t want to pull away but his legs give out. His knees finally hit the deck, he squeals in delight as he’s pulled from you with a wet little sound. But he’s still hugging you, of course.

“Heh, felt so good.” Luffy’s smiling with all his teeth, his chin sparkles with saliva, and your neck is dripping too, “thanks, darlin’. Love ya so much”

“Love you too. I love you, Luffy.” You don’t want to ever leave from his arms and you feel so empty now. But you’re soaked in him, neck and thighs both shining.

His hand rests gently on your back, helping you sit up, your slip falls back down over your body and it’s all wrinkled now. Luffy smooths your hair, he pets you, now is when he just wants to stare at you and not say a word. But when he sees the blooming red and purple trailing from your ear to your collarbone he starts to shake a little bit.

“Aw, this ain’t hurtin’ right?” he murmurs, tracing the bruises and teeth marks with his fingers so softly, carefully. There’s no blood, it’s just glossy with layers of drool, he’s proud but he needs to check on you first.

“No, it’s not bad. Don’t worry, I like it.” You kiss him right next to his mouth but he turns, quickly, because he wants your lips. “Whole crew’s gonna know I’m yours, that’s all.”

This makes him smile. He sees no reason for embarrassment or shame, you’re his so he can bite you when he wants. You feel his muscles twitch against you again as he laughs. And he’s flushed all red, hibiscus on his warm honey skin. Those eyes, dark brown eyes melting with that lavender of the sunset which is almost gone now, fading silently. So orchid blue then, on loving, deep Bulgarian rose.

“Good! I want ‘em to.” he rubs his head against your cheek, still biting just a little. And now he’s moving like he wants to pick you up and carry you, even though you’re both tired. But it’s because he’s hungry, and in that throaty little voice he asks, “wanna go get snacks?”

[princessbrunette]

john b made puppy!reader cum a whole bunch of times. no, not to overstimulate her — he’d thought about it, many times with his cock in his hand, but it was early days. today, he just had to be certain that she was slicked up enough to even get him inside that snug cunt.

he drags the tip through your puffy folds, watching each and every way your body jerks and twitches — audibly soaked, your arousal clicking and oozing with each grind of his hips. you were still sensitive, naturally — the taste of you still on his tongue, so he was being patient. even when he watched your hole clench around nothing and you placed a smaller hand on his wrist.

“please, i still want it daddy.” you groan, tearful and demure.

“look, i want you to know that we don’t have to do anything today if you don’t —”

“i still want it, daddy.” you suck in a breath so sharp you nearly choke on it and he raises his eyebrows, nodding in yielding.

“okay, okay. take it easy sweetheart. i’ll give you what you want.”

he watches the way his fat tip presses against your puffy pussy lips, spreading them obscenely from just the slightest pressure. john b always knew he was big, bigger than average atleast. curious eyes had decided that for himself upon taking shy glances around all-male changing rooms and locker room conversations about dick size that had friends saying ‘you’re a fucking liar, bro.’ the girls in his past had a little more experience than you, and welcomed the stretch — but looking at you below him, he wondered if this could potentially scare you off. he was about to do something he never thought he’d do, chicken out.

“bubba…” he cradles you, sliding hands under your back to hold you close and press kisses to your hot skin. john b’s voice was filled with sympathy, and if you weren’t so hazy in the head, desperate for his dick — you might’ve picked up on what he was about to say. “i don’t think it’s gonna fit, puppy.” he coo’s.

“no!” you whine petulantly. it wasn’t like you to be spoiled or demanding — but you had been preparing all week to take your boyfriend and you’d be damned if you didn’t get to atleast try to feel him inside you. “no, john b!” crestfallen, you let the hot tears race down your cheeks and his brows crease, feeling awful about it.

“i don’t want to hurt you, okay? i just —”

“make it fit, please— please make it fit john b, need it so bad!” you babble out a beg, snot pooling beneath your nose and all. he’d seen desperation, and he’d seen you cry — but never had he seen you cry in desperation for his cock. it twitches involuntarily against you, the heavy pink tip thumping your clit making you jerk, shuddering.

“heyheyheyhey— okay, okay. sweetheart, look at me. look at daddy. riiiight here.” he presses a wide hand to your chest to still you, the warmth of his palm proving to serve as some comfort as you suck in a shaky breath, bottom lip still wobbling. “thaaats my girl. breathe, okay?” he feels the thudding of your heart slow ever so slightly against his palm as you suck in slow trembling breaths. “i’m… i’m gonna try okay? but you… you need to breathe. gonna give me a heart attack, pup — jesus.” he sighs, lining himself up once more.

he decides one fluid motion might be better, so once he starts pushing in he doesn’t stop. slowly, but surely he feels your walls contract and stretch around his thickness — your jaw tense in determination as you put every muscle possible into lax, allowing john b to do what needs to be done.

“that okay? talk to me puppy how does it feel?”

“feels full.” you say through a strained tongue. you didn’t know you’d stopped breathing.

“what’d i say, hm? breathe.”

you suck in a long hard breath at this permission, and as you do so john b takes the opportunity to bottom out completely, dropping his forehead to your shoulder to let out a gravelly groan as you squeak. you feel as though you can’t even clench. there’s no space. he feels your glossy walls fluttering and trying anyway.

“happy, pup? that feel nice?”

he lifts his head, warm brown eyes searching your watery iris. there’s a softness to you suddenly, like you’d completely let go and you nod— a clammy hand pushing his wavy brown hair from his face.

“i wanna stay like this forever.”

[coryosbaby]

Who Has a Face Like Smarty Does?

—“Why don’t you just listen?”

Fandom: “Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse”

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Spider! Reader

Summary: You don’t know when to follow orders.

Cw: dubcon/cnc, nsfw . spanking, daddy kink, age gap, spitting, size kink, biting, marking

🩷🤍

“You’re such a fucking brat.” Miguel pounds into you at a restless pace, fangs bared sharp and scraping against your jugular. “Why don’t you just listen? Huh? Are you that fucking stupid?”

Your eyes roll back as his incredibly thick length bruises your walls. You know you’ve been bad; going directly against his orders to help Miles is probably the worst thing you could do. And getting sassy about— having an attitude— definitely didn’t help. So when he threw you into his office and ripped the crotch of your latex suit, exposed your puffy cunt to the room, and bent you over his desk, you knew you were in deep trouble.

It hurts, the way he’s fucking you. But you know he doesn’t want you to feel pleasure. You know he wants to break you. Blood coats your tits in thick red stains, bite marks running along your neck and jaw from where he sunk his fangs into you. Aphrodisiacs, they are; and when they sink into you all you can think of his thick, hard cock, bulging muscles and handsome face. You’re like a bitch in heat.

“‘M sorry, daddy!” You cry out. It’s too much, but you know he won’t stop.

“Oh, you’re going to be sorry, little girl.” He growls. “Daddy’s gonna fill this fucking cunt up. That’ll teach you to mind your manners, won’t it?”

“Yes daddy- fill me up! Please fill my pussy up, need it s’ bad..”

It’s all you can say. His hands curl up into the position they make when he’s about to shoot the webs from his wrists; the sound of the sticky substance landing on your shoulders makes your mouth gape as he uses his own webs to lift your body firmly off the wooden desk. Your nipples barely graze it as he speeds his pace up. A damn near impossible speed for a normal man, but Miguel O’Hara is not normal.

He moans when he looks down and sees your creamy spend leaking down his cock and balls. His thick thighs are hitting your ass as he ruts into you. “mi amor, estás chorreando…” translation: My love, you’re dripping.

Other harsh disgusting words spew from his lips. Your gaping snatch is closed tightly around him as he sinks his fangs into you again.

Your eyes roll back, a pained but also pleasured cry leaving your soft lips, legs shaking and cunt drenching him. His claws dig into your sides and then he reels back and slaps your ass. You gasp, and begin fucking back onto him when he does it again.

“Oh, look at you,” Miguel teases. “You want more of my slaps, little one? Do you want to be punished?”

You nod, and his hands come down onto you again.

“Miggy..”

“I want you to cum, mi amor.” He states breathlessly. “Rub your clit and wet my fuckin’ dick.”

You don’t understand why he’s letting it happen so soon. Wasn’t this supposed to be a punishment? But you listen to him anyway, and begin to rub the swollen nub with harsh strokes. Your orgasm has you practically screaming— and afterwards, Miguel doesn’t let up. He abuses your womb over and over until you can’t even breathe. It’s borderline painful, and your body feels completely spent and used.

By your tenth or eleventh orgasm, he’s got you pinned to the wall by his webs with his arms holding your neck in a chokehold. He eats your cunt out with his bloody mouth, and your eyes are rolling back, little nghhhs sighing out of you as he slurps your sopping wet hole. Your vision is going fuzzy, but you don’t care.

“Are you learning your lesson, mami?” He groans, as he pulls away from your cunt and rubs harshly on your clit with his thumb. You sob, nodding, drool leaking out of the corners of your plush mouth.

“‘S.. ‘s too much, miggy. Please, I can’t take it anymore..” you whine, but his fingers harshly slap your pussy and you jolt with a cry.

“You take what I give you.” He says, and then he’s ripping the webs from your body and letting you slide down the wall onto the floor with the help of his strong hands. You cry, legs trying to run away from him; you know you want it, but your body is drained.

Miguel growls, his claws grabbing you in a loose grip and dragging you back to his cock.

“Don’t run away from me, little bitch. You need to be fucking disciplined! This cunt is going to cum again whether you like it or not.”

You pant against his crotch as he shoves your face into his pubic hair. The smell of his pheromones makes your eyes roll back.

Your cunt pulses again.

—fuck, you’re in trouble.

© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!

[eiightysixbaby]

older! eddie finally having enough of reader calling him old man and he decides to show her how much of an old man he really is😏😏😏

“old man yeah?” he says grinning ear to ear when you whine pathetically underneath him, “wanna say that again?” he coos

18+ only pleaaaase!

The ball rolls down the lane, heavy and awkward, knocking into the pins and only sending a couple falling.

“That was possibly the worst throw of the night, Munson!” Robin says, smiling proudly when Eddie glares at her.

He groans, swiveling his arm to stretch out his shoulder.

“Not fair, this shit used to be easy. ‘S fuckin’ killing my shoulder tonight,” he comments, picking up his bottle of beer and clinking it with the top of Steve’s in a sort of pity toast to his bad turn.

“Oh, come on, old man!” you tease, standing to take your turn. You pick up your bowling ball from the bunch, giving Eddie a devious glance. “Let me show you how it’s done, sans any shoulder pain or back pain or pain in any other body part,” you smirk, earning a laugh from Steve.

“Ouch,” he says. “She’s got you there, Ed. Shoulder pain, really? When we’re not even halfway through this game.”

“Oh fuck off, Harrington. Wasn’t it two nights ago I saw you buying Epsom salts complaining about sore muscles? From a day at the pool with your kids?”

“Listen, the amount of times I had to pick them up and toss them into the water—”

You giggle, letting the two of them bicker as you take your turn. You let the ball go in a more elegant manner than Eddie, standing at the end of the lane as you wait to see the outcome. Sure enough, all ten pins fall with a scattered crash, and you bounce up and down eagerly.

“Woo!” Robin and Steve cheer, Eddie rolling his eyes as you high-five them.

“Alright, sweetheart, so you think you’re the superior bowler?” he asks, pulling you against him.

“I know I am, old man,” you draw out the last two words, pressing a polished finger to his chest. “Unless you really think you can show me up. But I wouldn’t want you hurting that shoulder while you try,” you pout, seeing the way the look in his eyes changes at your teasing. “Can’t have you doing too much… physical activity.”

“Alright, so that’s how you want to be, hm?” he asks, his voice low. “Just wait ‘til we get home, darling.”

The comment makes you shiver, his figure slipping away from you as soon as the words are out of his mouth. You watch him leave to get another drink, your mouth slightly agape as film reels run through your head, showcasing the activities that probably await you when you return home. Chewing on your lip, you return to your seat next to Robin, knowing full well you’re going to get under Eddie’s skin as much as you possibly can before the night is over.

Stumbling through the door just before midnight, a couple shitty bowling-alley-bar mixed drinks in your system, Eddie’s got his finger hooked in the waistband of your too-tight jeans, pulling you into him.

“That was real fucking cute, the way you kept mocking me all night,” he rasps, his warm breath fanning your ear, his lips barely grazing the shell of it. “If I had to hear you call me an old man one more time, I swear I was going to put you in the car and fuck you right there in the parking lot,” he says, kissing at your jaw.

You whine a little, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access.

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks, knowing the answer.

“Ed—” you pant, trying to paw at the buckle on his jeans.

“It is, god of course it’s what you wanted. I know your angles, baby,” he purrs, his voice dripping with lust.

He presses a hot kiss to your mouth, his tongue licking against your teeth. Your hands climb up his back, clawing at the fabric of his shirt as if your plan is to rip it off of him. He picks you up, carrying you down the hallway without breaking the kiss. He’s tossing you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off, exposing his modest muscles from years of hard work at the shop. You never tire of looking at the tattoos that decorate his pale skin, the ink fading with time.

He’s undoing his belt while you’re stripping bare on his bed, feeling your face heat when you catch him staring at your tits.

“Damn, I’m going to fuck the absolute shit out of you tonight,” he breathes, smiling boyishly, betraying his age despite the soft wrinkles in his face.

“Are you?” you ask, one final taunt, pushing him over the edge.

“Oh, sweetheart. G’na have you crying for me,” he says, moving to hover on top of you on the bed. “You’re not gonna be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe.

It’s quick and without warning when he slips two fingers inside of you, making you mewl as your hands tangle in his hair. He curls them expertly, he knows your body like the back of his hand by now, knows exactly what to do to have you screaming for him.

His eager mouth licks and sucks on your breasts, tugging your nipples gently with his teeth as your back arches. Your body accepts a third finger from him easily, sucking him right in as wet, filthy noises fill the bedroom.

“Eddie,” you whine, already on the edge of your orgasm. Your breathing is heavy, eyes pinched shut beneath him as he works you to your breaking point.

You cum around his fingers with a cry, body shaking violently as he works you through it. You feel like you’re on fire, his touch igniting every inch of you. All you want is more.

“Old man, huh?” Eddie muses as you come down from your first high of the evening. “Looks like this old man still knows how to please. So do you wanna call me that again, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, knowing you’re already in for quite the night.

“Good,” he says, dipping down to kiss your lips, your jaw, your neck. “Cause we’re just getting started.”

[literaila]

i need more of gojo's dopey grin and reader cooing over him when they're alone

“hey.”

to anyone else, this position might look a bit… concerning.

but laying face down in your bed, head smushed into the pillow, fingers clinging at the sheets underneath the duvet, uniform still on—well, this is normal to satoru.

because of course it is.

you don’t bother to move, or breathe, or really even comprehend that gojo is back several hours later than he’d told you he would be.

no, your feet hurt a bit too much, and your shoulders feel pinched. whoever invented nerves and muscles anyway? and how can you travel back in time to murder them?

“why are you home?” you ask satoru, voice muffled into the pillow.

but he must understand you well enough because the weight of the bed shifts at your waist, and there’s a hand on your back. “i don’t know… thought i might try going to bed a bit earlier.”

“no, you didn’t.”

he must be smiling. “no, i didn’t. i did miss you though. tired?”

“i think i died.”

“mmm…” and then there’s a weight—at least a billion tons—covering your body, and an ear in the middle of your back as gojo lays on you. “ah, nope! there’s your heart. it’s very happy to see me.”

“my eyes are closed.”

“the heart knows no bounds, darling.”

you scoff and then remember that your lungs are being crushed. “gojo,” you cough out, lifting your head finally. “i can’t breathe.”

“then how are you speaking to me?” he asks, bravado evidence in every inch of him, but he lifts himself off and you relax once again—or relax as much as a person who might never be able to get up again can.

but then there’s a hand at your shoulders, and a blinding light in your eyes as satoru flips you over, his knees finding their place on either side of you, hands right by your neck.

“ugh,” you try to move back, but he’s on top of you. so, yeah no, nothing happening there. “i hate this thing,” you say, reaching around him to mess with the knot he’s tied at the back of his head.

usually you don’t mind the blindfold, but today it has potential to ruin your entire relationship.

satoru only laughs, pushing your hands away as he does it himself. his eyes are there, after that, focused on you even as he leans over to set the blindfold somewhere unimportant.

“the kids asleep?” he asks you, staying above you—where he’s most comfortable.

“tsumiki came and said goodnight an hour ago. and megumi might be in a coma because he fell asleep at six and probably won’t ever wake up again.”

“oh, good, so we’re off the hook.”

“yup. for at least seven more hours.”

satoru grins, his hair in your eyes as he leans down. “that’s enough time,” he tells you, kissing the side of your jaw, and then your neck, and then—

“i’m too tired,” you tell him, kind of pouting, kind of wishing you had any energy to push him off. “why are teenagers so fast?”

he kisses back up, still smiling. “endurance training?”

“i think it was more ‘let’s practice killing our teacher’ training.”

“aw, that’s my favorite,” his eyes meet yours. “did you at least kick their asses?”

you scoff. “are you kidding?”

gojo shakes his head, mostly just to taunt you.

“of course i did,” you huff, kneeing his stomach so he’ll get off.

satoru complies, just to show that he can be sweet.

and it might take all of your body strength, but as soon as he is on his side, you curl up beside him, leg swung across his hips.

you ignore satoru’s silent laugh and make an effort not to comment on the hand that wraps around you, keeping you secured to him.

“good?”

“hmm.”

satoru swallows, hands finding their way to the hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric. “i had another meeting today.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“how’d it go?” you ask softly, grabbing his hand instead. you intertwine your fingers, allowing his subtle teasing of his thumb on your skin.

“fine. good. bad,” satoru sighs. “i need to take another trip soon.”

“hmm.”

“not until the end of the month, probably. but soon.”

“okay,” you whisper to him, looking at your hands. “that’s fine.”

he makes a noise, nuzzling his nose into your forehead. “that’s what took so long. i didn’t mean to miss dinner.”

you laugh, squirming away from the ticklish feeling. “it’s okay. at least megumi was more pleasant than usual. no one to tease him.”

“i’ll double it tomorrow.”

you groan, turning so you can look up at him—because if you’re going to convince him of anything, you’ll need your face to do it.

but satoru is already grinning back at you.

his eyes are entirely soft. his skin as always been so perfect, the planes and edges of his face a mesmerizing configuration.

you must be really tired, because you pause for a moment. satoru looks at you like that often enough but it—

it doesn’t make it any more bearable.

so you groan again, shaking his hand from yours. “stop smiling at me like that. i can’t focus, and im trying to argue with you.”

he laughs. “i thought you were tired.”

“i am. i cant be dealing with you and your face right now.”

“my face?”

“your stupid eyes.”

“stupid?”

“shut up, gojo,” you tell him, shaking your head. “i’m closing my eyes. don’t look at me.”

“but i just can’t stop,” he murmurs, sweetly.

and against all judgement you look at him again—and he’s still smiling.

this time, you swallow, looking a little bit more.

no one ever said you weren’t allowed to admire him just a little bit. it’s not like it’s illegal.

satoru hums and leans down. he kisses you softly, both of your necks straining, and you can still feel the damn smile. can taste the exuberance, smell the sincerity.

he adjusts both of you then, moving so that you’re laying all the way on the bed, no longer bending your neck to see him.

satoru pulls away with a smack, eyes very close to yours. “your lips are warm.”

you close your eyes. “stop,” you say to him, so quiet it’s almost inaudible.

but satoru doesnt.

[barbies1shots]

☆- slow - rough sex, featuring GETO SUGURU, whiny geto, pathetic geto, slight feral geto, overstimulation, condescending reader, werewolf!geto x vampire!reader, implied fem reader but anyone can read, use of pretty girl, biting, riding - mating press

werewolf geto who ran most of your little errands. grabbing your clothing from the dry cleaners, picking up your shoes from the polishers, grabbing your supplied bloodbags from the bank. even with the crude way the other vampires look at him. the only thing on mind is pleasing you.

you looked at him from the corner of your eyes when he said he wanted a reward. that he deserved something since he was a good boy.

you, of course indulged in him and gave him what he wanted. a kiss. he nudged you to lay down on the couch, wanting you to be comfortable before he leaned down and kissed your lips. incredibly greedy for any affection. he pulled you impossibly closer from the waist and he moaned into the kiss. his tongue pushes into your mouth, licking everything. not even caring if it was a proper kiss now.

he whines once he trials his lips down your jaw and on your neck. he whines that he wants to finally mark you as his. that all the disgusting vampire smells were making his head hurt.

"What did you do to deserve more than a kiss, huh, pup?"

she giggled at his blunt answer, nothing but i want it. Want my pretty girl so bad. he didnt even know what he was saying. just babbling along with what his heart wants. you granted him permission, and he hurried to find the junction between your neck and your shoulder and sunk his teeth in. his canines hurting the most but he soothed it over with his rough tongue.

you let him strip you out of your clothing, helping him with the straps that his bigger fingers couldnt properly hold. see, he wasnt a virgin, no where close but your cunt makes him feel like one. the tightness, softness and warmness felt like he could come at any moment once he pushed in. with his head tilted back, he let out a groan from the back of his throat, his hold on your hips tightening so much that there will be brusies in the morning.

he leaned down to your neck, licking at the bite mark before he jerked his hips back and pushed them in. easily pressing into your g-spot and making you quiver. he reeled his hips back untill just the tip was grazing the outside muscle and snapped his hips, sending a horrid crashing wave of pleasure through your bones. yet suguru was already on the edge of tipping over, he couldnt keep his breathless moans to himself as he hid himself in your neck.

but as time grew on, his thrusts began to falter. the pleasure, for him, growing too much as he just focused on grinding into you.

"Are you struggling? Do you need my help? Its okay to cry for help, puppy,"

yet he just whined and pitifully nodded his head. he let you switch positions, your pillowy thighs caging his hips in and you lifted yourself up and sunk down onto him. this position takes him deeper, deeper into your tummy where it feels like hes in your throat.

a loud whimper escaped his lips once the back of your thighs met his hips, his chest was rising and falling incredibily. he placed his hands on your hips and you started to ride him. lifting yourself up and dropping yourself down. pressing down and grinding against him. your clit catching the dark hairs resting on his pelvis.

with every movement his thighs jerked and trembled as he struggled to keep his composure. he would gasp, his eyes fluttering shut, Damn, pretty girl, yes- please, just like that, yes-

with every movement it felt like you were riding him for his literal life. that he had to grasp onto his very soul so you couldnt fuck it out of him. your cunt felt like heaven itself, something so precious that should be taken for granted. he arched his back, feeling his canines grow with the sudden need to be even closer to you. a strong wave of possessiveness that reeled him in, a primal instinct.

every movement had him gritting his teeth as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. every movement of your slutty hips-

suddenly you were on your back, flipped over and pinned under the large mass of your werewolf lover, with him growling visicously down into your face. he didnt let you catch your breath or even ask questions before he filled you up again. the pace brutal and unfeeling as he just rutted into you like a filty dog off the street.

he pressed his dick so deep there was a bulge in your tummy, the action forcing a sob to escape from your throat.

he hoisted your thighs onto his arms and he pressed down untill his head rested in your neck, and your thighs are pressed into your tummy, his lips brushing your mark as he fucked you. every rut felt like someone was taking a rock and smashing it into your lungs before purposly taking their finger and stabbing your g-spot. he fucked you and it hurt.

it hurt so good.

he growled possessivly when you ran your fingers through his hair to calm him down, he growled when you pressed your lips into the side of his neck, by his ear. he growled- no he howled when you sinked your fangs into his neck, far deeper than anything has ever gone before and he whimpered patheically as he came. the bite suprising him but feeling so good where he saw white spots around as he came.

the pup filled you up so good and just continued to rut into your body like a mindless doll, not knowing when to stop or even how to stop. he didnt hear your distant voice crying out for him to get ahold of himself when he leaned down to bite into the opposite side of your neck. all he felt was blinding white pleasure and not your hands slapping at his chest and pelvis to give up.

poor puppy..:(

@aizawasbarb

[moonstruckme]

Hey bestie!! I broke my neck yesterday so I was wondering if you could do something with EMT!marauders where reader falls or something and so they have to put a cervical collar on her and just a lot of comfort? I completely understand if not and I hope you have a wonderful day!!!

Hi lovely, hope you're doing okay!! That sounds so scary, wishing you the best and thank you for requesting <3

cw: injury, restrained movement (reader has some anxiety around feeling trapped)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

You wake with hands on your face. 

“Easy—no, don’t move, please. My name’s James, I’m with NHS.” You take a breath, and the head attached to the hands nods encouragingly. He keeps you pressed firmly to the headrest of your seat. “That’s good, just breathe. I’m gonna pass you off to my partner behind you, okay? This is Remus.” 

Another set of gloved hands plants itself on either side of your face, fingers splayed along your jaw. You swallow, and James gives you a smile. You can’t fathom how it reaches his eyes, deep brown and magnified by a set of glasses with thick lenses. You’ve only just woken up and you already feel like you could cry.

“He’s just going to keep your head still for us. Don’t try to move, yeah?” 

You think to nod, but Remus’ grip is tight, and the mere activation of the muscles sends shooting pains down your neck. You gasp. 

“Yeah, don’t do that,” James says. He takes your hands in his. “Can you squeeze my fingers, sweetheart?” You do. “Good. Wiggle your fingers?” You do, but it feels weird. “Good.” James gives your hands a squeeze of his own. His gentleness makes something hot and panicky press at the back of your throat. 

“Alright, this is my partner Sirius.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see another man climbing in the passenger door. He grins at you, flashing canines. “He’s gonna help me put you in a brace to hold your head still.”

“Okay,” you say. Your voice comes out quiet and squeaky, but still James smiles as he opens up the plastic collar. 

“Hey, there she is. Can you tell us what’s hurting you, sweetheart?” 

“My neck.” You try to take a breath. It shakes going out. “And my hands feel tingly.” 

“Alright, that’s alright,” Remus says from behind you. His voice is low and soothing, a bit of rasp to it. “Anything else?” 

“No.” 

He adjusts his grip to let the other two put the collar around your neck, but then his touch is back. It’s starting to feel less constraining than grounding. 

“That’s not bad, all things considered. We’ll have to get you some scans to know for sure, though.” 

“Hold on, is that optimism from you, Remus?” Sirius grins, securing the velcro on one side of your neck. “He must really like you, doll.” 

“Sirius,” Remus says warningly. 

“Just making an observation. Jamesie, can you bring us the backboard?” 

“Yup.” James gives your knee a little pat and disappears from your vision. Oddly, you’re a bit nervous to be without him. 

“I’m gonna get your pulse here,” Sirius says, taking your wrist in hand. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” 

“He means don’t move,” Remus clarifies. “You’re really doing quite well.” 

The pressure of Sirius’ gloved fingers on the inside of your wrist feels more intimate and vulnerable than it has any right to. You’re suddenly aware that you’re trembling. 

“Thanks,” you manage. “It’s not a hard job.” 

Remus chuckles behind your ear, and Sirius lets out a sharp laugh, looking up at you in surprise. 

“We don’t usually get comedians on these sort of runs,” he tells you, eyes studying your face with something between bemusement and admiration. “Remus is understating things, gorgeous. As far as horrific car accidents go, you’re killing this.” He sets your wrist back in your lap. “You’re definitely in shock, though. Are you afraid of needles?” 

“Um, not very. Why?” 

“No reason.” 

Sirius looks past you, and then James is back on your other side. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Miss me?” 

What’s humiliating is you almost had. You keep your mouth shut, smiling tersely. 

He blazes right past the joke, fiddling with things out of your view until there’s something hard poking into your thigh. “Okay, on Remus’ count Sirius and I are going to lift you so I can slide this backboard under you. Your only job is to keep being good and still for us, yeah?” 

You don’t get to respond before Sirius and James are wrapping their hands around your thighs. And then you’re not sure you can respond. Your breath freezes with the rest of you, caught in your throat, you can feel fingers digging into the soft undersides of your thighs even through your jeans. Remus counts down from three, and their grips tighten as they lift. You hiss as the muscles in your neck and back tighten instinctively, but James quickly slides the plastic board underneath you and they set you down again. 

“That’s it, well done,” Sirius murmurs as James settles his hands carefully on either side of your face. Remus lets go. 

“You doing okay?” James asks you, ducking his head a bit to see your eyes. You hope you don’t look quite so petrified as you feel. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

James’ expression doesn’t change, but his thumb makes a couple of quick, soothing strokes at your temple. “Alright, sweetheart,” he replies. “After this is the easy part, we’re just gonna get you lying down.” Remus gets out of your backseat, squeezing in your passenger door with James to grab hold of your shoulders. James looks to him and Sirius before counting down, “Three, two, one,” and they’re turning you. 

Your neck blazes with a pain that’s so sudden and acute you nearly choke on it, a strangled whimpering sound escaping you as they lower you backwards. Your back meets hard plastic. Soft shushing sounds are falling from Remus’ lips, his grip on your shoulders easing now that you’re in a more secure position. 

“We’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the way one might to a stray kitten. “You’re alright, love, you did so well.” 

If you talk now you’ll cry. You’re sure of it. So you settle for giving him a watery smile you know isn’t believable, and he returns it nonetheless. 

You hear the ripping of velcro, and then Sirius is standing over you, passing the other end of a strap to Remus. James is still grasping your head. They start placing the straps over your chest, careful, businesslike hands lifting your arms and pulling the material taut against your sides. Your hands are lying awkwardly at your sides, and Sirius pauses to take them, placing them atop your stomach with one folded over the other. Soon your upper half is strapped down. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears.

“What are they doing?” you ask James quietly. 

“They’re just restricting your spinal movement,” he explains. “We have to make sure you don’t hurt yourself by moving, and once they’re done I can let go of your head.” 

“Oh.” You take a breath. “Okay.” 

You know they’re really helping you, just doing their jobs, but even still every tug of the straps feels like it’s restricting your airflow. You feel tight and tense. Trapped. You try to fill your lungs, but it’s useless. 

“Hey.” James’ voice is tender, and you don’t want to look at him but you don’t have much choice when he leans over you like that. You feel like a child, breathing through your mouth to try and keep tears from spilling. “Hey, it’s okay. What’s going on? Does something hurt?” 

You want to shake your head but you can’t, and that makes you cry harder. “No,” you squeak out. 

“Just scared?” You press your lips together, inhaling deeply to try and suppress the next sob that’s trying to break free from you. Down by your legs, you can feel Sirius and Remus moving faster to finish up. “I could certainly understand why. This is a lot, you know? But really, you’re being so great about it. We’re almost done here.” 

You close your eyes embarrassedly, you feel a strap tighten snugly around your ankles, and then James is letting your head go, wiping your tears with careful fingers. Another hand lands on your shin, rubbing soothingly. 

“We’ve gotta keep moving,” James says quietly, “to get you to the hospital, but if you need anything from us you can ask, alright?” 

You hum brokenly. 

“Alright, sweetheart.” He brushes a finger under your eye. You open it, and he gives you a reassuring little smile before looking to Remus and Sirius. “Ready?” 

“Yup.” Sirius’ voice is teeming with faux pep as they snap up the handles of the cot, starting to wheel you towards the ambulance. 

They lift you and all the equipment like it’s nothing, and then the sky is gone and you’re looking up at a plain gray ceiling. You’re working to steady your breathing now, counting both ways. You start to feel better. 

“There we are.” Remus sits down on a bench beside your head, stroking a knuckle over the teartracks his partner didn’t get. Sirius climbs in behind him and starts to mess with something on your other side while James swings the doors shut. “Just keep breathing like that, love. You can relax, alright? We’ve got you.” 

[avis-writeshq]

heyyy omg I love your writings so much! congrats on your latest milestone, it's DESERVED 👏 can I pls request track one with spencer reid where he gets an epiphany and decides that he wants to propose to his girlfriend? just superrrr cute and fluffy 😍 thanks a lot!!

glue song – spencer reid

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

“Careful watch your– no, pivot a little, pivot–” 

“I am pivoting! There’s nowhere to pivot to! Why is it so messy?”

You suppress a grimace as you manage to somehow squeeze your way through Spencer’s tiny doorway and into his apartment, the shoe rack on the side dangerously close to his damaged knee. You stumble a little as Spencer grips your shoulders tightly for support, his other hand holding onto a crutch. 

“Maybe we should move into a bigger apartment,” you muse, helping him to the couch. Your gaze shifts to his injured knee, your face falling. “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I think about it. Which is pretty much all the time,” Spencer says, wincing as he finally collapses against the cool leather cushions. “Thank you for doing this.”

You look almost offended at his words as you brush his hair out of his face and into a makeshift ponytail. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

He hums as he feels the way your fingers pull lightly at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. “Thought you’d get tired of me. After, you know, everything.”

“None of that was your fault,” you remind him swiftly. “This–” you gesture to his knee– “isn’t either.”

He softens, leaning his cheek on your shoulder. You’ve been there for him through everything and he knows what specifically it is you’re referring to. He could see it from the moment his doctors informed you that he wouldn’t take the vicodin they had prescribed to him to soothe his discomfort. His thought process makes sense; he didn’t want to risk it. Regardless, he was left with a growing pain in his leg that didn’t shake even after taking toradol. 

“I’d never get tired of you,” you clarify, squeezing his hands. “You’re too pretty to get tired of.”

He lets out a proper laugh as he squeezes back. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!”

He laughs again, shaking his head adamantly. “Liar.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Spencer beams in your direction, pressing kisses against the soft of your jaw. “You’re right.”

A triumphant smile spreads across your face at his words. “Exactly.”

*** 

From his spot on the couch, Spencer watches guiltily as you hustle and bustle about in the kitchen, grabbing plates and filling them to the brim with the food you ordered from the Chinese place he loves. He feels bad seeing you work so hard looking after him; especially when you have your own workload to take care of. He doesn’t even notice that you’ve already placed his portion of food in front of him until you whack him lightly on his head with some napkins. 

“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” You shoot him a half-hearted glare as you snap open your chopsticks. “I want to do this. I truly don’t mind.”

“You’re already doing so much,” he insists, “I’m okay, angel, I swear.”

You are not easily convinced and you point to the list of things the doctor suggested you to do in order to ensure Spencer’s speedy recovery. “I have a responsibility, Walter. What will your team do without you?”

“They’ll live,” he assures, reaching a hand out to massage the muscles by your shoulders. “I think you’ve seen me naked more the past two weeks than you have our entire relationship.”

“Well it’s not my fault that you need to bathe,” you argue, stabbing at your noodles. “You love it really.”

His cheeks burn with embarrassment at the accusation. “I do not! It’s humiliating.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you soothe, smiling at him. “Besides, it’ll only be like this for a little while longer.”

“If you consider five months to be ‘a little while longer’,” he quips as he shovels food into his mouth.

You let out a laugh, not finding offence is his sarcastic blow. He thinks you’re a blessing and he figures that you definitely are. Who else can deal with the problems of him being, well, him aside from you? Spencer doesn’t know what he would do without you. How could he when you manage to push all the darkness and negativity away?

“I’m lucky to have you,” he says finally, his gaze on your face. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum in response, wiping your mouth and curling into his good side, draping an arm over his middle. “That’s true. You’re good to me, too.”

He brings his hand over your waist and kisses the side of your face in an act of reciprocation. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears at the sudden compliment and you can’t help the silly bashful smile that pulls at your lips. Your mouth opens and closes, deciding on what to respond with before you settle with a simple, “Thank you.”

It’s the honest truth. There’s a look about you that tells him that you don’t believe it, but he doesn’t say anything more to try and convince you. He tells it to you everyday; he’s sure that you’ll end up accepting the compliments more readily. Your being beautiful might have been what had drawn him to you in the first place. Although he isn’t entirely sure. He recalls a certain folktale about invisible stings and how it was tying him to you. There’s something pretty about that thought, the mere idea that you were made for him and he was lucky enough to actually hold you in his arms. 

You’ve turned the television on now, a romance movie playing on the screen with familiar actors. It’s supposed to be a comedy, at least that was what the description on the DVD said, about the main male lead reminiscing about his year that he spent with some manic pixie dream girl. Spencer doesn’t understand how that could be comedic but you seem to enjoy it. 

Spencer has tuned out the movie now, finding entertainment in the reactions you have. Your face morphs into different emotions with each dramatic scene and in that moment Spencer realises one very important thing. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. 

“What was that?” you ask obliviously and you lift your eyes to look up at him. 

“Nothing,” he dismisses, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Just keep watching the movie, angel.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

events page

[justagalwhowrites]

Bane of My Existence - A QZ Joel Miller One Shot

You and Joel Miller have never gotten along, always at odds whether working together or avoiding each other. But when a smuggling job goes bad, you discover that there might be more to his harsh demeanor than meets the eye.

Pairing: QZ Smuggler!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers; Joel is bad with emotions; hurt/comfort; canon typical violence; injury that's probably poorly handled because I don't medicine; vague threat of SA (not by Joel, not made to reader); unprotected vaginal sex. Joel carries reader but look... My Joels are all 6'5" and strong as hell, especially in life threatening situations. Man can carry anybody. I'm in love with him because he's a big strong man. No description of reader.

Length: 8.9k (sorry)

A/N: A lil one shot gift for my beautiful bestie @dundienominee :)

Full Masterlist | AO3

“Hell no.” 

Of course Joel Miller said hell no to working with you. Of course he did. 

You weren’t surprised at Joel’s reaction when his smuggling partner, Tess, brought you to their safe house in the QZ. He’d never been the president of your fan club. 

“Joel,” she sighed. 

“Fuck no,” he said. “Not bringin’ her anywhere, she’s a goddamn liability.” 

“Joel,” she said again, sterner this time. 

You, however, just smirked, watching him pace and glare at you, his face getting flushed as he did. 

“She takes stupid fuckin’ risks,” Joel said. “She’s cocky, she’s…”

“Saved your ass from infected?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

You knew you were adding fuel to the fire. Tess glared at you for it. Your smirk grew. 

“Wouldn’t have been near the fuckin’ infected if it weren’t for you,” he snapped. “Not. Goin. With. Her.” 

“Well, you don’t have a choice,” Tess said, standing up a little straighter and crossing her arms, staring her partner down. “She’s the one with the contact, they agreed to two people meeting them and she has to be one of them…” 

“How the hell’d you make a contact?” Joel turned his full attention to you, his eyes molten hot and angry. “Anyone you touch ends up fuckin’ dead…” 

“Oh fuck off,” you snapped before you regained your composure. “Don’t get pissy with me because big bad Joel Miller isn’t the top of the smuggling heap in the QZ…” 

“I ain’t pissy!” 

“…Not the top of the heap in anything at all, really…” 

“That’s it!” Joel stalked over, looking like he wanted to slug you. Instead, he just put his finger in your face, a slightly unhinged look in his eyes. “You think I’m doin’ a goddamn thing with you…” 

“You don’t have a choice, Texas,” Tess came and stood beside you, her arms crossed as she looked to Joel. “You burned the bridge we had with the FEDRA officer I need to buy off to get our next round of pills inside, I can’t go on this run because I have to deal with the mess you made when you couldn’t keep your shit together. We want to actually be set before shit gets snowed in for winter? We need her connection. So. You’re going, you’re leaving tonight, and you’re not going to fuck this up. Got it?” 

His jaw tightened. 

“Got it.” 

“Good,” she looked to you. “Your contact knows you’re coming?” 

“They do,” you said, serious now and completely ignoring the wall of muscle who was still standing uncomfortably close to you. “The walk back is going to fucking suck but it should be worth it. Good with the split?” 

“Good might be a strong word for 60/40,” Tess said, shaking her head a little but grinning all the same. “But I’ll take it.” She looked between you and Joel. “Trusting you two to not kill each other out there. Don’t make me regret it. See you in a few days.” 

She left the two of you there in the threadbare apartment without another word, Joel’s glare practically drilling a hole into your skull. 

“Together again, eh Miller?” You smirked at him. 

He didn’t respond. He just went and sat heavily on the worn couch before lying down and closing his eyes. 

“What, didn’t get enough sleep?” You asked, going and standing over him. 

“Slept fine,” he said, eyes still closed. “Just would rather spend the few hours we have before we leave the QZ not listenin’ to you.” 

You rolled your eyes but took a moment to look at Joel when he wasn’t glaring at you. 

It was a rare occurrence, seeing him when he wasn’t scowling and pissed. He let himself relax down into the cushions and the lines in his face eased. As much as you hated to admit it - and you did hate it - Joel was beautiful. Frustratingly so. What’s worse, he’d somehow gotten better looking in the years you’d known him. Jerk.

You’d first met him before you came to the QZ, almost 10 years ago now. You were holed up in your own little corner of Boston, doing your best to stay out of the way of FEDRA, infected and raiders alike. 

It was basically a full-time job, even more so since you’d become the last person standing. A job that you failed at the day you met Joel Miller. 

And, as much as he liked to blame you for it, he was the one who showed up in your corner of town. You’d been napping through the worst of the afternoon heat in mid-July when you heard a clatter: someone tripped one of your alarms. 

“Fuckin’…” 

He swore loud enough that you heard him from your perch and you watched him shake glass out of the wrinkles of his shirt. 

“Someone’s here,” the second man said, much quieter. “That ain’t no accident…” 

The two men moved slowly, cautiously, their rifles raised as they searched for whoever it was who set that trap. When you thought they were far enough away, you started to move, slowly and quietly, going to sneak up on them and take them out before they could do the same to you. 

But as you drew close, you heard it. The clicking. 

You gasped, close enough to the strange men that they heard it and close enough to the clickers that they did, too. 

“Move!” The larger man snapped out of his moment of shock first, shooting forward and grabbing you and throwing you to the side before shooting at the incoming infected. You scrambled to get back up, fumbling to get the knife you’d been readying to thrust into that man’s back. 

It turned out, you didn’t need it. At least, not for the infected. The two men made quick work of the clickers and turned to you, your knife raised and ready to take at least one of them down with you. 

“The fuck are you doin’ out here?” The larger man said instead. 

“The fuck do you think?” You snapped. “Go on, do it! Kill me, take my shit, whatever it is you’re going to do…” 

“Don’t much like killing women,” he said, looking to the other man, their guns still in hand but pointed to the ground. They looked alike, these two. Like they could be related. 

“What, because I’m a woman you think I’m not a threat?” You asked, brows raised before realizing that you probably shouldn’t be egging on the large, armed men in front of you. 

“Not really, princess,” the younger man said, voice teasing, and you considered throwing your knife at him. 

“Should count yourself lucky that we don’t,” the older man said. “Why don’t you come with us, out pickin’ up just a few things and then headin’ back to the QZ…” 

“Right,” you scoffed. “Because I really wanna live under fucking FEDRA.” 

“Guessing you want to live,” he said. “Got news for you, princess. Even we’re steerin’ clear of this area of Boston after this. Lot more infected than we bargained for. Your little hideout ain’t gonna be safe much longer. Assuming you want to keep on living, QZ’s your best bet.” 

“And you’re just, what, inviting me along out of the goodness of your heart?” You scoffed. “Please.” 

“Don’t much like killing women and don’t much like leaving people to die, either,” the other man said. “Seem capable enough. Come with us, at least out of this part of the city. Would rather not have you added to the infected population.” 

You ground your teeth for a moment, considering. They could easily over power you. You were out numbered, out gunned and they were both large and strong. 

But… you had been noticing more and more infected lately. You hadn’t left your hideout in almost two weeks and you were low on supplies. Part of the reason you hadn’t dared venture out in so long was the seemingly constant press of infected you could see from the best vantage points in your building. You’d been starting to worry that you wouldn’t have a good opportunity to leave for supplies again. And, if you did, you were starting to worry your home would be overrun when you got back. 

These two were the closest thing you had to a safe option out. 

So, you took it. The pair introduced themselves and you were right, they were related. Joel and Tommy Miller, smugglers who lived inside the Boston QZ. They were strong, smart, capable. Handsome, too, not that it really mattered. What mattered much more was your ability to keep each other alive. 

And, it turned out, you were useful to them. Enough that they wanted you around as help for other runs outside the QZ. It made sense, you knew certain corners of the QZ better than anyone else seemed to. It had been your territory - at least, in some way - for a long time. 

Then, it happened. You’d taken to calling it ‘the incident’ for lack of any better word. You were out on a smuggling run with Joel and another man, Harvey. In spite of the fact that you’d been working together for years, Joel had never really warmed up to you. He tolerated you at best and it seemed like growling was his preferred form of communication where you were involved but you always made it back to the QZ in one piece when you went out together. You watched each other’s backs - you were proud that your kill count was higher than his and that you were almost positive he’d be dead by now if it weren’t for you. 

The three of you were at the edge of the city, heading to rendezvous with someone from a small settlement in New York State when you heard it, the first, distinctive shriek of infected. 

Suddenly, there were dozens of them, maybe more than 100, far more than you were capable of handling even if you had unlimited ammunition. 

And, like a fool, you froze. 

You’d scouted ahead and saw no signs of them, no indication of anything more than one or two strays that had been ambling around. You had no idea where they’d come from or how they’d come to be here but that didn’t matter. They were here, they were bearing down on you and you couldn’t seem to make your body move, the shock of the sight making you completely shut down. 

It was Joel who saved you. 

“Move!” He’d grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and thrown you behind him as he fired at the infected, pressing back as quickly as he could while laying down cover fire. Harvey joined him, their guns up and blazing as you tried to force your body to listen to you. “Fucking run!” 

Your limbs decided to obey then and you moved as quickly as you could, turning and firing behind you when it felt like you had a moment to spare. 

But you misjudged that moment once. Just once, but that’s all it took. Infected were closer behind you than you realized and Joel dove in between you and the reaching, groping thing. 

“Joel!” You shrieked, desperately trying to get a shot off that wouldn’t hit Joel as he strained to hold back the runner who was snarling near his throat. You were about to shoot when Harvey tackled the creature, knocking it off of Joel but into the mass of infected that was closing in quickly. 

They swarmed him and he screamed and you took aim as Joel scrambled to his feet. He shoved you on before you could fire and you stretched to shoot around him but he nearly threw you away from the swarming monsters and your screaming companion. 

“He’s gone!” Joel yelled as you stared at him, aghast. “He’s gone, we have to fucking move, now go!” 

You kept turning, looking back toward the sound of the snarling and the screams. 

“We have to go back!” you said. “We can’t just leave him like that, we have to at least shoot him we can’t just leave him, we…” 

“You should’ve thought of that before you fucked up!” He kept pushing you forward, toward the QZ. “No point in gettin’ us killed to save a man who’s already dead.” 

Joel had gone from seemingly finding you to be a nuisance to hating you then. He refused to even be in the same room as you let alone leave the QZ with you again. 

It took you a long time, after that split, to figure out how to survive. You’d become dependent on the cards you got from smuggling to get by but you couldn’t leave the QZ on your own and expect to make it back in one piece, not with how things had devolved with raiders and infected in recent years. You found a small group who was going out from time to time - which is how you met Tess - and you cobbled together a living. 

You never worked with Joel again. 

At least, not until now. 

You sighed and perched in the window, watching the QZ go by and thinking of the best way out of the city once the sun went down. You tried not to think about the likelihood that Joel would kill you while you were outside. 

It was a long walk ahead of the both of you, 30 miles each way through infected no man’s land, not that raiders hadn’t been trying their damndest to get a foothold. But you had a connection there who had been growing marijuana and had a hell of a crop they were willing to trade for plenty of ammunition and antibiotics. You’d been orchestrating this trade with Tess for weeks, both of you carefully avoiding the sore subject of Joel. The initial plan had been you and her heading out but then Joel beat the shit out of a FEDRA guard for some imagined offense and they were suddenly without the connections they needed and suddenly, Joel became part of the plan. Lucky you. 

Once darkness started to fall, you picked up a little stone that was stuck in the frame of the cracked window. You took careful aim and flicked it, watching it sail to hit Joel square on the forehead. He twitched in his sleep, grimacing, but he didn’t wake. 

You looked around a moment, searching for something else to use against him. You found it in the form of a wad of paper that you had to stretch to reach but you did. You tightened the ball and aimed, throwing it. It didn’t make it quite as far, bouncing off his hands as they sat folded at the base of his chest. He didn’t even flinch at that. 

“Dammit,” you muttered, looking around again. You found a rubber band then, perking up a little as you picked it up. You arranged it carefully on your fingers, pulling it back and aiming it like a gun, targeting Joel’s nose. His oddly beautiful nose. Not that you ever really thought that way about him, of course. You shot the rubber band and it flew, snapping right where you’d aimed it. He jerked awake and you turned quickly so it seemed like you were just looking outside into the night. 

“Wha…” He mumbled. 

You turned your head to look at him as he sat up, seemingly disoriented. 

“You hit me with somethin’?” He asked. 

“What would I hit you with, Joel?” You asked. “I was about to come wake you up, though. Can’t get a late start because of your lazy ass…” 

“Show you lazy…” he muttered, hefting himself up off the sofa. “Let’s move.” 

You gave Joel this much, the man was efficient. You’d forgotten just how efficient in the years it had been since you’d last worked together. He cut through the QZ quickly and smoothly, the knowledge of routes run by FEDRA guards seemingly innate as he knew exactly when and where to avoid and how to do it. In what seemed like no time at all, you were outside the walls and starting into the ruins of the city. 

“Got a safe house about an hour’s walk,” he said, setting an almost punishing pace as you moved alongside him. “We get there, wait for daylight, press on in the morning.” 

“Oh, because you’re the decision maker?” You asked, brows raised, even though you agreed with him. “Just expect me to fall in line…” 

“You know what, princess?” He rounded on you, forcing you back into the wall of a building you were passing. “You’re lucky I came out here with you after the shit you’ve pulled…” 

“Shit I pulled? I fucked up!” You all but yelled at him. “I know it! I think about that all the fucking time, that he’d still be alive if it weren’t for me! I don’t need you to fucking remind me, I know what I did and I’m sure you’re fucking perfect and that no one’s ever died because you fucked up…” 

“You don’t know a goddamn thing,” he growled, pressing closer to you for a moment and his eyes were dark and dangerous. For a moment, you thought he might kill you. Or kiss you. He didn’t do either. Instead, he just stepped back, looking you up and down once. “Keep your shit together this time. Don’t want to die because of you.” 

Tears burned your throat and eyes and you swallowed them and walked a few steps behind Joel, trying to keep an eye out for signs of infected and raiders and trying to make sure that Joel didn’t die. Even if it was just out of spite. 

The next day was easier than you expected, too. You made it quickly out of the safe house in the morning and dodged a hoard of infected, skirting around the writhing mass of them lying on the street. You didn’t really feel like you could breathe until you were outside the city, where the air was cleaner and you didn’t feel the specter of what happened years ago looming over you. 

You and Joel mostly ignored each other, watching the tree line as you kept an eye out for whatever might be lurking for you there. But, every now and then, you thought you caught Joel looking at you out of the corner of your eye, his head snapping around the moment you seemed to take notice. 

After walking for most of the day and covering 20 miles, the two of you stopped and made camp, Joel deeming it safe enough to make a small fire. You watched him after the two of you had eaten and settled, the light casting flickering shadows on his face. 

Joel, you were almost loathe to admit, was an incredibly good looking man. There was a roughness to him that you found almost comforting in the world you were both trapped in but there was beauty to him, too. The symmetry of his features, the plush of his lips, the cut of his jaw. You wondered what he was like before all this, not just when he was younger but before this world had a chance to sink its teeth into him. Maybe you would have been friends then. Maybe something more than friends. 

“How’d you end up smuggling?” You asked, not able to keep sitting here in silence any more. 

“What?” He asked, looking up from where he was cleaning his gun. 

“Smuggling,” you said. “Doubt you were born a smuggler and you don’t seem like you were a drug mule or something in the before times. How’d you end up doing it?” 

“How does anyone end up doin’ anything?” He asked. “Needed cards, people needed drugs. If people want to pay me for ‘em, I’m not about to argue.” 

“So that’s it,” you said. “You woke up one morning and thought to yourself ‘I think I’m going to tell FEDRA to fuck off today by running drugs’ and started a whole new career.” 

He sighed but didn’t say anything. 

“I don’t buy it,” you continued, sitting back against the tree you were propped against. “There’s something else…” 

“Not your business if there is.” 

“So there is something else!” You said, almost smug. “I’m on the right track, excellent.” 

“You always this nosy?” 

“Usually,” you said. “Let’s see… Maybe Joel Miller just likes an excuse to hit things.” He scoffed but didn’t say anything. “Not that? Interesting… Maybe Joel Miller gets off on breaking the rules. Is that it? You have authority issues?” 

“Can we go back to not fuckin’ talking?” He asked. 

“Not authority issues then,” you nodded, ignoring him. “Well, that leaves just one other theory.” 

You were quiet, looking away from Joel and fighting the urge to smirk as you did. It only took a minute of silence before he sighed. 

“Goddammit,” he said. “What. What’s your theory.” 

You let the smirk happen then, looking back at him. 

“That Joel Miller doesn’t feel alive unless he’s about to die,” you said. “And that Joel Miller needs to feel something so he decides to do the thing that almost kills him because what else is there to have?” 

He watched you for a moment, his eyes hot and angry, before he looked back at his gun. 

You laughed once. 

“So predictable…” 

“And why do you do it?” He asked, looking up at you, the rage barely contained on his features. “Must have a reason, right? Livin’ outside the QZ as long as you did, fuckin’ around outside it now, what is it? You got some kind of death wish?” 

“Yes,” you said, looping your arms around your knees. He blinked at you in surprise for a moment and you laughed a little. “I’m not nearly as mysterious as you, it’s not some secret…” 

“Why?” He cut you off, gun set aside now. You frowned but he pressed on. “You got a life, why do you want to just throw it away…” 

“You call what I have a life?” You asked, brows raised. “Never thought you’d be so generous in regards to anything related to me…” 

“Ain’t it?” He asked. “Sure, it’s not what it was before, can’t just do what we did then but…” 

“You think that’s it?” You gaped at him. “That I miss being able to go to fucking happy hour with my coworkers or grab dinner at Chili’s so I might as well drop dead?” 

“That’s not…” 

“I lost people, Joel,” you snapped. “I know everybody did but when I say I lost people, I mean I lost everyone. By the time you and Tommy found me, there wasn’t a single person left on Earth I knew. My parents turned in the outbreak, they bit my brother and his wife and their daughter. I survived with my fiance for a while but he got shot by a FEDRA officer when we were trying to make our way to the fucking QZ and then I was alone. I stayed out there because, what, was I supposed to go live with the people who killed him? No thanks. What the fuck is there? So yeah, you know what? I smuggle shit. I like the risk. I like telling FEDRA to fuck off. I like being able to handle myself because I’m the only thing I can count on. Don’t act so fucking surprised that I’m not thrilled with life in the QZ just because you brought me there.” 

Joel was quiet for a moment and you just squared your jaw and looked away, arms crossed tightly over your chest. You knew you shouldn’t let Joel get to you the way he did - especially not after you’d picked at him and pushed him here - but he got under your skin the way no one else left alive really seemed to. You hadn’t spoken to anyone about your fiance, not in years. It was a wound you’d long set aside, a casualty in the war on humanity that had hollowed you out so much that it seemed like you couldn’t really feel anything unless you were on the edge of your own destruction. Or, apparently, picking a fight with Joel fucking Miller.

“Could be worse,” he said eventually. 

“Yeah, well.” 

“M’sorry.” 

You looked at him then, brows knitted together. 

“What?” 

“Said I’m sorry,” he said, voice a little gruff. “Didn’t… didn’t know. Wasn’t trying to… I’m sorry.” 

You blinked for a moment, trying to get your bearings. Of everything you’d expected to hear out of Joel Miller’s mouth, I’m sorry wasn’t it. 

“I’m sorry, too,” you said eventually. “If you want to talk…” 

“I don’t.” 

“Right,” you nodded. “Well…” 

“I got first watch,” he said, picking his gun back up. “Get some sleep.” 

The next day, you reached the trade you’d arranged, the woman you’d run into a few times when outside the QZ there with her partner. They hauled so much marijuana out - wrapped tightly in old newspaper - that they had to use wagons to carry it all. You unloaded your haul and the trade went smoothly, Joel lurking toward the back and standing guard, keeping a surly watch over the whole proceeding the entire time. It took some doing to pack all the pot into your bags but you managed it, thanking the couple and starting back toward the QZ. 

You were close to where you’d stopped the night before when it happened, the snarl of infected crawling over your skin. 

“Fuck,” you slung your rifle down from its place over your shoulder and turned to where the sound was coming from, seeing a cluster of at least a dozen infected moving for you. You shot, catching the first in the head and you watched it drop. 

“Go!” Joel yelled, planting his feet and taking aim. 

“Fuck you!” You snapped, ignoring him and shooting. “I can handle myself.” 

He growled at that but didn’t say anything else. Instead you stood with him, side by side, trying to pick off the group that was charging for you. For a moment, you thought you’d done it, that you were in the clear. 

And then, Joel’s gun jammed. 

You realized it when you didn’t hear any more gunfire coming from beside you as the remaining infected drew closer. 

“Joel!” Your eyes darted his way and you saw him trying to force the lever back, to no avail. He looked to you and the infected and back to you, his jaw squared. 

“Get back to the QZ,” he said, not giving you a chance to respond. Instead, he charged forward, gun held not like a firearm but a staff and he swung it, hard, so the butt of it slammed into the skull of an infected as three others dove for him. 

“Fuck!” You yelled, ignoring him again. Like hell he was going down out here like this, like fuck you were letting this asshole die for you. You took careful aim, taking down infected that you were confident you could headshot without putting Joel at risk, just one bullet going wide and exploding on the bark of a nearby tree, the rest finding their mark. And then he was on the ground, just one infected left, too close to him for you to be able to shoot and it wasn’t that you chose to do it, not really. It was more like instinct, flying forward, shedding your backpack and dropping your gun as you did, wrenching your knife from its place at your hip and jumping onto the back of the creature, your arms going around its neck as you yanked back on it, hard. 

Your weight threw it off balance and it shrieked, starting to claw at you, twisting in your hold to see if it could sink its teeth into your skin. It bit as best it could at your arms but the thick of your coat kept it from getting any further and you struggled to adjust your knife to drive it into the thing’s neck but you couldn’t get it, not without letting it go.

“Goddammit!” Joel was panting for breath and you could barely see him out of the corner of your eye as he scrambled to his feet. You tightened your grip on the infected, the stink of the rot of it from the inside out making you gag, and it slammed you back into a tree, catching you off guard. You barely registered the sound of your skull hitting the wood before you passed out. 

***

You didn’t listen. You never fucking listened, why could you never fucking listen? 

You were the single most infuriating person Joel had ever met. Stubborn as hell, independent to a fault, seemingly desperate to pick every fight you could find. Of course you didn’t fucking listen to him. You never had before, why would you start now? 

Seeing you that close to infected - again - was terrifying. 

This was why he didn’t want to go out like this with you. This, right here. Because he knew you wouldn’t listen, he knew you’d wind up in this situation, knew he’d have to deal with the fear and the pain of you dying when it was his fucking fault why couldn’t you just fucking listen?

He’d thrown himself at the infected to give you a chance. One of you was probably going to die out here and he wasn’t about to let it be you. Not when he’d already done so much, gone so far to try to make sure you fucking survived. Because dammit, if he couldn’t make sure one of the few people he actually cared about actually lived, what was the damn point? 

But did you take the chance he was giving you? No. Of course you didn’t. 

And all he could do was watch in horror as the thing you’d jumped on top of slammed you into a tree with a sickening thud, one he could hear above the snarling and snapping of jaws. Your body went limp and you slid from its back to the earth, landing in an unnatural looking way. No one who was in control of their limbs fell like that. His blood was ice and he moved without considering, roaring as he ripped his knife from his belt and tackled the infected who was turning to go after your throat. He hit it so hard he rolled with it, the creature’s mouth reaching for him as he held it back. They came to rest on the ground, that thing on top of him and Joel slammed his knife into its neck again and again, until it went quiet and still and Joel was bloodied and panting for breath. 

He shoved it off him and he half crawled to you as he got to his feet, not willing to wait until he was standing to start moving. You were still when he reached you, your head thrown back, half on your side, mouth open. 

“No, no, c’mon,” he pulled your coat open to get at your chest to try to do what he thought was CPR - not like there were fucking certifications for it in the QZ - but, when he did, he realized you were breathing. He lowered his head near your mouth and could hear the soft, shallow sound of your life and he sat back on his heels, taking a deep breath. 

So he hadn’t gotten you killed. Not yet, anyway. At least there was that. He let himself sit with the relief for a moment before checking you over, looking at your throat and wrists for signs of a bite but didn’t find any. Another lucky moment. 

“Alright princess,” he said, tapping your cheek lightly. “C’mon. We gotta get movin’, let’s go.” You stayed still. His stomach twisted. “Know you like to fuck with me but now ain’t the time, we need to get out of here, time to wake up…” 

He half expected you to respond then. You’d love this, the fact that he was damn near panicking because you were hurt. He knew you’d want to draw it out. 

But you wouldn’t be stupid about it. You wouldn’t put them at risk, not really. 

“Fuck,” he swore, adjusting your limp body as best he could before lifting you to his chest. The hair at the back of your head was matted with blood. He tried not to think about what that might mean. “S’alright. You’re gonna be fine, just… You’ll be OK.” 

He kept thinking that, over and over, as he carried you, looking for somewhere he could protect you for a while. 

It took him time to find it, a farmhouse with overgrown fields that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. The door was hanging open, creaking on its hinges, and Joel brought you to the kitchen island, setting you gently on the dust-covered formica. 

“Stay there for a minute,” he said, leaning against the counter to recover his strength and his breath for a moment. “Gotta… gotta make sure we don’t got company.” 

He went through the house room by room, barricading the doors on the ground floor and pleasantly surprised to find most of the top floor intact, no holes in the roof or broken windows. He gathered some blankets from the main bedroom and carried them down to where he’d left you. He propped your head up gently, pouring some water on a cloth and cleaning the cut there with care before covering you with a quilt and pulling a kitchen chair up beside you. He checked to make sure you were still breathing before sitting down, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, hands folded almost in prayer. 

He should have told Tess to fuck off. He knew better, when it came to you. There was a reason he’d avoided you ever since that day everything had gone wrong. Hell, he’d been avoiding you before that, too. 

From the moment he’d met you, he liked you a little too much. You were the exact kind of woman he’d gone for before, one who was capable and strong and a total fucking smart ass. He liked a woman who challenged him, one who made him think. You did those things, you did those things like it was second fucking nature, all while being one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, before the outbreak or after. 

He knew he had to keep his distance from the beginning, that he’d get too attached if he let himself. But you were a valuable partner, so he did his best to keep you at arm’s reach while going on runs with you and his brother. He thought that had been enough, that he’d done a good job of protecting himself from the disaster that waited at the end of any form of attachment in the life he led now. 

And then he saw you freeze in the face of infected. 

He was so afraid in that moment that it shocked him how fast he made the call. The decision to put his body between you and the infected was an easy one. He wanted to make it back to the QZ, to his brother he’d found some reason to live for over the last few years, but he wouldn’t want that if you didn’t come back, too. But you didn’t fucking listen then, either, too busy trying to do the same damn thing he’d have done in your position. If you hadn’t been with him, he’d have tried to save Harvey. He was a good man, he’d watched Joel’s back plenty, Tommy’s too. He deserved a better end than the one he got. 

Joel just couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk you. 

He let himself rage at you about it. Even though it wasn’t your fault, none of it had been. He’d known it then but even more so after. Years later, outside the QZ, he watched as a large hoard worked its way south for the winter, just passing through. You couldn’t have seen them coming, no one could have. 

He never told you that. Because, after the day you froze, he was far enough away from you that he wasn’t going to have to watch you die and he wasn’t going to have to carry the blame if you did. He couldn’t do that again. He knew that much of himself, he knew what he wasn’t capable of surviving. If you were out of reach, he’d have room to breathe. 

But you were still leaving the QZ. He hadn’t known that, at first. He’d just assumed you’d stay put and take the shitty jobs FEDRA offered to get by. He hadn’t even known that Tess knew you, not for years. It wasn’t even her that told him you were still smuggling, it had been a FEDRA guard. He’d overheard your name when Tess was handling a trade and put two and two together. He damn near marched over to your apartment that second and demanded to know what the fuck you were thinking. But he didn’t. He kept it together, he kept listening for news of you, kept waiting for the day that he knew was waiting for him, the one where you didn’t come back and he’d find out about it from some other smuggler or some asshole guard who found out when you didn’t show up with his supply of pills.

And then your name came up when he was trading with a FEDRA guard. It was a small deal, some pills for cigarettes and liquor, just enough for one guy. He was a new client of Joel’s, one he was happy to have. His demand was low and he was good leverage for bringing shit through the gates, turning a blind eye for a good deal on drugs. He just hadn’t seemed to learn quite yet that Joel wasn’t a friend. 

“You know other smugglers, right?” He asked, glancing at Joel as he counted the pills out in his palm. As though Joel was stupid enough to short change a fucking FEDRA officer. 

“Suppose,” Joel shrugged. “Why?” 

“There’s this one…” he talked about a woman who was coming and going, one who was cocky and beautiful and hadn’t caved to his demands for sex the last time she came through and he tried to blackmail her. Joel ground his teeth but kept quiet as he prattled on, eventually pocketing the pills and handing over the cigarettes and booze. “Anyway, wondering if you think she’s the type who’ll give in or should I stop wasting my time and just take it?” 

Joel’s hands curled into fists. 

“Take it?” Joel asked. “Take what, exactly.” 

He looked at Joel, incredulous. 

“C’mon,” he said. “You know. They never fight too hard against a uniform but it’s more fun when they’re at least a little willing.” 

Joel’s punch came so quickly the man didn’t have time to put his hands up. He took him to the ground fast, blow after blow raining down on the man’s face until the air smelled like copper and his knuckles were split. The man gargled on his own blood below him, desperate gasps that sounded something like “please” but he couldn’t be sure. Joel grabbed him by the collar, his head lolling limply to the side as he tried to breathe. One of his teeth was hanging on my a thread.

“Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” Joel panted. “Tell your fuckin’ friends. I hear about any of you messing with women around here? I’ll kill you.” 

Joel dropped him back to the ground and flexed his fingers. He thought he might have broken part of his hand. Wouldn’t be the first time. At least this one was worth it. 

“Pleasure doin’ business with you,” he said, fishing around in the man’s pocket and taking a pill from him. He popped it in his mouth, chalky and bitter on his tongue. “For my trouble.” 

He left the man there in the alley, knowing full well that he’d just shot his whole team in the foot. He didn’t much care. 

The irony that it had landed him here, outside the QZ with you unconscious and your haul on the forest floor was almost too biting. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he’d been doing this wrong all along. 

You groaned and Joel’s head shot up as you started stirring on the counter, your hand going to the injured part of your skull. 

“Easy,” he said gently, getting up slowly so he wouldn’t startle you. “Took a nasty hit to the head, you were out for a while.” 

“Ow.” 

Joel laughed a little at that. 

“Glad you think it’s funny,” you said, sitting up. He rushed to help you and you gave him an incredulous look as his hands found your back and your hand. “Jesus, I feel like I got put through a meat grinder…” 

“Well, s’long as you ain’t bitten, think we can handle that,” he said, taking his hands back now that you were sitting up. 

“Amen to that,” you said, stretching a bit before looking him over and then looking around, a small frown on your face. “Where are we?” 

“Farmhouse,” Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets just to give them something to do. “Think about a mile from where we were. Can find our way back OK. I’ll have to, your pack is still out there.” 

“Shit,” you said. “Yeah, we can’t afford to come back without it, I traded my entire stash for my share of the pot…” 

“We’ll find it,” he said. “Don’t think anyone else is comin’ through here any time too soon.” 

You nodded slowly before looking back to him, your eyebrows knitting together before you flinched, your hand going to the back of your head again. 

“Will you actually listen for a change and take it easy?” He asked, going to check the wound. “Jesus, bane of my fuckin’ existence, not doing a goddamn thing I tell you…” 

“Why are you still here?” You asked, ignoring him yet again, fingers finding the gash on your head and tugging at it until it started bleeding again. Joel sighed before pulling your hand away. “Hell, why’d you bring me here at all? You just said I’m the bane of your existence, why the fuck did you go through this much trouble? You could have just left me there, taken my pack, kept all the haul for yourself…” 

“You really think I’m capable of that?” He asked, brows raised. He knew he hadn’t exactly been kind to you over the years but fuck, he didn’t think it was that bad. He pressed the wet cloth to your head again, watching as the red filtered over it. 

You shrugged. 

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Yeah, alright, you piss me off more than… shit, about anyone else I’ve ever met. You’re the bane of my existence…” 

“So…” 

“Will you let me talk?” He snapped. “Fuck, woman, always gotta be right, always gotta have the last damn word, always gotta do whatever’s gonna get you into the most trouble…” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I managed to save your fucking life today,” you snapped back. “Please forgive me!” 

“I don’t want you saving my life if it costs you yours!” He yelled. 

You pulled back from him sharply, eyes wide as you blinked at him in shock. He shook his head and pulled the cloth away from your skin. At least the bleeding had stopped again. 

“Don’t fuck with it anymore,” he said, dropping the bloody fabric to the counter. “Gotta leave it alone so it can start to heal, head wounds bleed like a motherfucker…” 

“Joel,” you said quietly, watching him. 

“What.” 

“Joel,” you said again, eyes still on him. “You… What did you mean you don’t want me saving your life if it costs…” 

“I don’t…” He cut you off before he took a deep, centering breath. “I don’t want anybody dying for me but… Christ, it can’t be you. Yeah, you’re the bane of my existence, you piss me off so much sometimes I swear it’s like you got a goddamn degree in just how to do it but you make me feel more alive than anything else left and I can’t…” His heart was pounding so hard it felt like a bruise. “I can’t lose you, especially not when I could stop it. Not when I could save you. I need you to stay alive, OK? I don’t want anyone else to piss me off the way you do, I want you to be the one getting under my skin every goddamn day…” 

“Joel…” 

“Still not gonna let me finish?” He gaped at you. “Fuck, I’m tryin’ to…” 

You didn’t let him finish that time, either. Instead, you kissed him, your arms going around his neck and pulling him roughly against you, your lips so soft and warm and demanding on his that it felt like you were trying to swallow him whole. 

It was like the logical part of his mind only worked for half a second after that. He knew, in that moment, that he should probably hold you back. Talk things out, make sure you didn’t hurt yourself - you’d just had a head injury for fuck’s sake - but that part of him vanished, consumed by you and the way you kissed him like you were trying to climb inside his skin. 

His arms went around you, pulling you to the very edge of the island so your pussy was pressed tight against his quickly hardening cock. 

He couldn’t help but grind himself against you, the zipper of his jeans harsh contrast to just how soft he knew your pussy would be and the last bit of resolve he should have held snapped. Your fingers fumbled at the snaps on his coat, pulling it open before going to the buttons on his shirt and he did the same, desperate to get at your skin and suddenly not caring that it was nearly freezing or that the two of you had nearly died not all that long ago.

His hands found your breasts, sliding inside the cups of your bra to cradle the soft warmth of them and you moaned into his mouth when his thumbs found your nipples, gently brushing them before working them in little circles as they pricked against his skin. 

Joel had tried to not think about this with you. It was tempting, always tempting, but he knew better. He tried to limit his thoughts of you to frustration and anger but he often failed at that. He had failed at it often enough that he had an idea of how you would feel in his hands, how you would taste on his tongue. He thought he would have known enough to be prepared for it if it ever happened. 

He wasn’t. 

You were, somehow, so much better than he’d ever let himself imagine. You were so goddamn soft, like the whole of you had been spun out of silk, tenuous and tender. There was something almost inherently wrong in how he was touching something as soft as you but he shoved that nagging guilt aside, too obsessed with feeling more of you. If this was how your tits felt in his hands, how your lips felt on his, how your hands felt in his hair, he had to feel inside you. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think about anything else if he didn’t get to be inside of you, his mind would always be trying to create the way you would feel, to know how warm you would be, how safe he would feel in you and how calming it would be to know that you were safe, too, because nothing could reach you if he was there inside you, nothing. 

His hands reluctantly left your breasts and slid down to your waist, finding the button on your jeans. You quickly, clumsily kicked off your boots and lifted your ass from the countertop so he could slide your jeans and panties down, leaving you all wet and swollen and bared for him. 

“Fuck,” he panted, looking down at you for a moment before reaching one callused finger forward and almost reverently tracing your dripping slit. You groaned, your head going back in pleasure, your hips almost jumping toward him. 

“Joel,” you whispered, voice so goddamn needy. The sound went straight to his cock, skin stretched tight and balls aching. “Please…” 

“I’ve got you baby,” he said, opening his pants and tucking his jeans and underwear below his throbbing sex. “Make you feel so good, just…” 

He took his cock and brushed the head against you and you looked down to where he was about to push inside you and gasped. 

“Holy fuck,” you panted, looking at him, your eyes wide. “Joel, you’re… Are you going to fit?” 

“I’ll fit, baby,” he said, looking down again and notching the head of him inside your wet heat. You groaned as you stretched around him, fingers digging into the skin at his nape. He pushed the first inch of himself inside and stopped, looking back to you. He took your face his hand and your eyes searched his, desperate longing written there. “Just watch me, I’ve got you.” 

You didn’t say anything, you, just nodded quickly. His other hand went to the small of your back, angling you just so as he started to thrust into you, pushing in a little and then pulling back before going again, claiming more and more of you with each stroke until he was fully within you. He stilled inside you and pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes on his own, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. 

He’d been right. Inside, you were fucking perfection. He could feel how you stretched over him, how your body perfectly took and held his own. You were so soft there it seemed impossible, like the world should have destroyed anything this delicate and supple. But you felt so like you, too. The heat of you was almost overwhelming, the strength of you sharp and clear when your cunt fluttered over him, already nearing your orgasm with telltale little spasms holding him tight.  He wanted to consume you and be consumed, devour and be devoured and he needed to fuck you deep and hard and leave part of himself inside of you or he might never think of anything else ever again. 

“Fuck, Joel,” your breaths were sharp and shaky. “I’m so… you’re so big, I’m so full, I… You have to move, I need you to fuck me, please fuck me, please, I need…” 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said, gently angling your head just so. “Give you just what you need.” 

He kissed you as he started fucking into you, setting an almost punishing pace as he moved inside you. He drank down your desperate groans, savored the way your fingers scrabbled over his shoulders and neck and back, got lost in the spread of your thighs as you kept trying to take him somehow deeper. As if there was more of you for him to take, as if there was more of himself to give. 

Your channel grew tight over him and he knew he wasn’t going to last once you came but he was afraid he wasn’t going to even make it that far. He’d already given up on pulling out, he’d deal with the whatever fallout came from filling you up, but he had to feel you come when he was inside you. He was desperate for it, needed to feel how you’d draw so tight over him and pull his come from his body into yours, he needed it. He drove deep and found the spot inside you that made your legs clench a little tighter, fingers clutch a little harder. He pressed into it and held himself there, more rocking into you than fucking into you, grinding the head of him into the very softest part of you as your cunt drew tighter and tighter over him and you pulled away from his lips to cry out as you came. You throbbed around him and he could feel every part of you there, the pulsing of your body and the satisfaction of your cries damn near ripping his own orgasm from him. 

He pulled you close and tight as he came, feeling like his whole being was pulled down low and sharp inside him as he spilled deep into you. Your arms loosened on him but you still held him gently as he all but collapsed into you, his head on your shoulder as he panted for breath. 

“Fuck,” he managed after a moment, still deep inside you. 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. 

He sat back from you, eyes searching yours again now that you’d both started coming back down to Earth. You reached up and ran your fingers through his curls, brushing them back from his face as he started to notice the cold air again for the first time. 

“Bane of your existence, huh?” You asked, teasing lightly. 

“Yeah,” he said, smiling a little. “My whole damn existence.” 

You smiled a little back. 

“Think I can work with that.”