#drunk! y/n

[eveningepiphany]

far from sober | H.S

my masterlist

part II

summary: you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.

warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk people (including close family members), fluff, sexual tension, brothers best friend, drunk crying lol

a/n: sorry I haven’t posted properly in a while! here’s a shorter piece while I work on some more stuff <3 plenty to come x

———

Saying you were a bit drunk was a drastic understatement.

You were stumbling all over the place, heels becoming impractical now you were so intoxicated.

Harry, who knew you were going out with some of your family and friends tonight at the bar, had no idea what he was coming back to.

You don’t remember actually intending to get this drunk, but your Aunty had been egging the group on to do some shots, and before you know it you’re well past tipsy. Even your mum was getting drunker than you’d seen in years.

So all the other boys who’d gone out— including Harry— walk into the hotel bar. It was as chic as the lobby, just adorning some more neon signs and rustic bar stools.

Harry had gone out with them to look at a heap of shit that you and your female family members had little interest in. They’d insisted you all stay and just have a couple cocktails, since it was a holiday after all.

It was to their surprise when your same eager aunt bounded up to them when they popped through the door to the bar. They had expected tipsy, but not hammered.

“Oh my god!! You guys will not believe how good the cocktails are here!” She swooned, and they all glanced at each other with an amused chuckle.

“I think I just might believe it.” One of the boys piped up.

Most of them dispersed to find their significant others, family or friends amidst the bar, and see how much chaos was being caused.

But you’d b-lined straight for Harry, regardless of whether he was seeking you out.

His brows shot up when you collided with his side, “Harry!”

Your arms wrap around his middle and you end up latching onto him, practically using him to keep yourself upright.

“Oh!” He speaks in surprise, hands jumping up to brace around your lower back.

“Are you absolutely hammered too, love?” He chuckles and you bury your face into his chest.

“Yeaaaaa…” you drawl, a smile spreading onto your face.

“Everyone else is rounding up their partners. Suppose I’m in charge of you, yea?” He suggests, rubbing your back.

“Wanna—“ you hiccup, “have a drink with me?”

He shakes his head with amusement, “I think you’ve had plenty, sweetheart. We should get you back to your room.”

Most of your drunk family were getting escorted out by their respective people, being taken up to their hotel room before they can drink themselves any sillier.

This included your brother, Leon, who had his longtime girlfriend pulled into his side, holding her half up and laughing a little at her drunken slur.

He came to a stop when he seen both of you, eyes flitting between your two figures. A small twitch of his brows suggested he wasn’t sure of how he felt about the sight.

“You got her?” He asks, a protective edge to his voice. One that drunken you missed easily as you stayed plastered against him— which is something sober you would not do in general, let alone in front of your brother.

Harry nodded straight away, understanding his defensiveness over you since he feels the same about Gemma. He said softly, “Of course, I’ve got her mate. I’ll take her up to her room.”

Leon glanced at you again. Harry and him met when they were 9, and they’ve been best friends since then. He trusts Harry with his own life, and knows he’d never ever do anything that would hurt you, but his protective side is still flaring up.

Only when his girlfriend, Brie, complains of feeling nauseous he curtly nods, and continues heading for the door.

You are again, oblivious to all this, running your fingers along the tattoos exposed on his forearm— his sleeves rolled up to his elbows— putting his gorgeous skin out on display for you.

“I loveee your arms.” You slur, and his eyes shoot from the door back down to you.

He rarely sees you this drunk, and you’re suddenly very close— making comments that for many reasons are bringing a flush to his face.

“Y/N, Jesus you’re hammered.” He shakes his head, still smiling.

He slowly starts walking, “Cmon, let’s go. Y’brother is expecting me to get you back to your room in one piece.”

“You definitely won’t have a drink with me?” You whine, taking a few steps backwards trying to tug him in the direction of the bar instead of the door.

“Nope. Maybe tomorrow if you can even stomach alcohol.” He pushes the doors from the dimly lit bar open, and leads you into the back of the lobby that it’s connected to.

You squint at the dramatic change in lighting, which is hardly helping your sense of perception, or lack thereof, from the alcohol.

Harry’s hand has taken yours though, leading you to an elevator.

You noticed how warm it was, smooth against yours, aside from the rougher pads of his fingers from the years of playing guitar.

Being so off it, you could not keep that thought to yourself.

“Your hands are so soft, H. Like silk.” You say as you walk into the first elevator to open, squeezing his hand.

“First time anyone’s ever told me they feel like silk. I’m flattered.” He smiles, squeezing back.

“what floor are y’on, by the way? D’ya even remember— or are we a bit too wasted for numbers?” A teasing lilt is in his voice.

You half-laugh half-hiccup, “it’s… 7…?”

“You hardly sound certain about that.” He nudges you with a laugh, “It’s 12, we’re on the same one, remember.”

You laugh much harder than any sober person would, which makes it funnier to him. Since it was a mediocre joke at best.

You’re still laughing as you touch his chest with your palm, “you’re not funny.”

His gaze travels down to it, and he’s shocked at how touchy you are. You never do shit like this when you’re sober. His own amusement quickly takes the back seat, even though you’re still giggling.

However your face falls shortly after, laced with a curious gaze as you slide the neck of his long sleeve to the side, in search for the swallows inked onto his collar bones.

He watches as your eyes wander the small expanse of skin there, and how your fingers brush the tattoos.

“Having fun?” He asks, trying to joke again, but really he’s undeniably a little worked up.

“Yah, heaps.” You snap your gaze back up to him as you enthusiastically nod.

He hates the fact he’s blushing so hard right now over this, since you’re drunk and not completely in control, but he at the end of the day is a man with a very pretty girl— which happened to be you— pulling at his top like she wants it off him.

You hum to yourself, “Have such a pretty neck.” And you trail your hand up it, running a finger over his adams apple.

The elevator door opens like a blessing, and he quickly moves to make distance between the two of you.

“Can you remember your room number, darling? That’s one thing I actually don’t know.” He looks to you as you follow him out with clumsy moments.

“Uh… I dunno— wait I think the keycard is in my purse.”

He laughs at this— wondering if it will come to you in time once you sober up.

“Fuckkk.” You groan. “My purse is in Molly’s big handbag.”

The groan soon turns into a whine, because drunk and being slightly inconvenienced is not a good pair.

“It’s ok!” He amends quickly, trying to keep from having a drunken meltdown on his hands, “We’ll just got back to mine, only if you’re comfortable?”

He quickly prepares for you to not want that, “otherwise— I’ll call her, she didn’t seem too wasted, I’m sure she can—“

He’s interrupted by you, “I don’t mind going back with you.”

You say it with a confused look on you face, a tiny pout on your lips.

“Why would I be uncomfortable going with you?”

“Because… well— I’m not sure. I just wanted to leave you with other options.”

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone together before— you’ve actually spent plenty, but just never with you drunk.

And so touchy.

“No. It’s ok. I love being with you!” You chuckle.

He leads you down the hall, pulling the keycard from his back pocket once he reaches his room, 3313.

The door clicks open, and he holds it open for you, following you in shortly after.

You’re still unstable on your feet, and one look at those heels, he’s surprised you haven’t ended up on the floor in the last ten minutes

They’re practically a health and safety issue. He can not imagine you getting them off right now— which is exactly what you’re about to bend over and attempt.

Before you can throw off your centre of gravity, he quickly says, “Go sit on the bed.”

You glance back over your shoulder, face only lit by the light from the lamp in the corner of the room.

“That’s a little forward, don’t you think, Harry?”

He toes off his own shoes, shaking his head immediately at your drunken misconception of what he asked.

“So I can take your shoes off.”

You make the few steps left to the bed safely, and you sit at the edge of it, still giggling as you say, “just my shoes, huh?”

“Yes.” He walks over, kneeling down on one knee, pulling your heeled foot up onto the strength of his thigh.

He fiddles momentarily with the laced up string, warm hands splayed on your calf, and choosing to ignore the way your dress is riding up your thighs.

Christ. This is harder than he thought.

“I forget how hot you are sometimes.” You deadpan, and his jaw goes a little lax.

You’re usually playful, yes, but never do you breach into territory like this.

It was only others, like those at a family gathering, or your close friends, that would push to get stuff like that out of you like they were matchmakers.

There were many times that barbecues or some kind of event held at yours, Leon would invite Harry over. And if the two of you even interacted for just a second, someone in your family circle would tease you. Especially your own damn brother— it was a constant streamline of snarky comments from him.

“You are so drunk.” He mumble while pulling up your other foot.

You ignore his statement, thinking back to when he was a boy to now. He was cute— always was— but the way he looks now is just unmatchable.

“Have you always looked so… like… this?”

He chuckles, almost nervous, “what does question that even mean?”

“So pretty.” You clarify after a moment of trying to find the word.

“Ah, you’re only saying that because you’re plastered up the walls.” He laughs, and a dimple popped on his cheek, and your hand jumped into action before you could even think about it.

“Noooo, sober me thinks that too. She thinks you’re more than pretty.” You say, cupping his jaw, gently tracing the dimple that popped up.

He doesn’t know how to interpret any of this. His heart is jumping in his chest, and he’s trying to reason its genuinely just the alcohol in your system.

He holds eye contact as he slips off your other shoe, placing in neatly next to the other.

He stays there for a moment, unprepared for your next question.

“Can I kiss you?”

She’s drunk, she’s drunk, she’s drunk…

“You’re drunk, sweetheart.” He says, and it’s painful— because he wants to, so fucking bad, but you’re not in a state to consent to literally anything at the moment.

And especially not in the mind frame to be making decisions like this.

You lean forward anyway, before he has a chance to avoid it, managing to meet his lips on your own terms.

He caved for a brief flash of time, and allows a second for himself to feel it, no longer than that though. Just a mere moment to take in the warm, soft feeling of your lips on his. It takes so much strength for him to not kiss you back, he has to focus on the task at hand— sobering you up and getting you safely asleep.

He pulls back after that single moment, leaving his forehead against yours, “baby, I know, I really…” he cuts himself off.

A deep inhale and he stands up, “Not tonight. Cmon, let’s get you out of your dress. You can wear something of mine.”

He walks over to his suitcase, anything to remove you from his sight for a moment, to reset his thought process. He pulls out a tshirt and pair of gym shorts, hoping they won’t be too big on you.

Turning back around, he convinces himself he’s fine. Placing the clothes from his bag on the bed beside you, his hands come under your arms, helping you stand up on flat feet for the first time in hours.

You lean into the touch, turning around so he can undo the back of your dress.

The feeling of his fingers brushing your back have you going wild, and the way they gently slide the zipper of your dress down.

His eyes lock with the back of your lacy bralette and he chooses not to follow your skin any further down.

You use your hands to slip the straps off your shoulders— and very quickly the dress is pooling at your feet.

A shaky inhale passes through his nose as now you stand in just your underwear and a seemingly very pretty bralette.

He reaches and picks up his shirt from the foot of the bed.

“Do you want to… take this off before��?” He gestures to your bralette when he catches your eyes.

You nod, reaching behind you to undo the clasp and allowing it to slip from your shoulders to the floor.

Harry puts all his focus on getting the tshirt over your head to cover you up.

Once it’s over your whole frame, you can’t help but smile.

He’s so nervy and cute around you.

“Thanks, Harry.” You smile, suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of adoration for him hit you.

It inflated up in your chest, and bubbled deep into the pit of your stomach.

It killed Harry to watch it happen, and although he had no idea what kind of thoughts were going on in your head, just seeing you light up like that…

You wrapped your arms around his middle again, just like you did when you ran up to him in the bar.

He placed his hands in your hair this time, taking in your scent— which was mixing with his own now that your were in his shirt.

“Love, if you were sober right now. God.” He confesses.

“Im sober enough.” You beg, even though it’s such a lie.

He still shakes his head against you, “‘M not gonna be that guy, Y/N. I have waited years just to have you. I can wait another night. Or week. Or a whole ‘nother year if that’s what it takes.”

This hits you hard.

And it felt like your 15 year old self could hear it up in the confines of your head it rung through you that loudly.

She loved him then, more than she’d ever admit. And sure, you’ve grown up from 15, but yet never once did you grow out of him.

As noted earlier, being drunk and inconvenienced is not a good pair. But being drunk and having someone say or do something sentimental like that is another level.

Tears immediately start to fall from your eyes, and he feels your chest shake at the sudden outburst of emotion.

He pulls back, thinking he’s done something wrong, or said the wrong thing, and an apology was immediately on the tip of his tongue.

But relief thrums through him as you tug him right back into the hug, “that’s— that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“The nicest thing a boys ever told me.”

“Sweetheart.” He coos as you cry, his own voice wobbly with emotion.

He feels like he’s on a roller coaster. 5 minutes ago it seemed all he could think about was the unspeakable things wanted to do to you, and now he just wants to lay you down and hold you until you fall asleep.

He forgets the shorts on the foot of the bed, shuffling the two of you up to where the head of it is— which was still unmade from last night when he’d slept in it.

He tugs you into it, pulling you tightly too his chest as your heads hit the pillows.

And he just hugs you.

Eventually, your crying subsides off, and you enter an indescribably calm state.

“I love you. I don’t even know if you’re going to remember this in the morning.” He sighs, “but fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry.” You whisper, before your eyes begin to fall heavy, and those words were the last to leave your lips before you fell asleep.

———

PART II, found here

a/n pt2:

back again guys, hello!

this is like an extended a/n, but I have a lil update. I saw harry for the very first time live 3 weeks ago. it was so so incredible, and the experience was by far the best time of my life. I miss harry so much i just feel sick ugh. he is perfect. auslot was amazing, he absolutely gave us his all.

that’s why I’ve been so absent on here, literally coping with my pcd a day at a time. I’ve written heaps but nothing I’m 100% happy with haha.

but anyways I just thought I’d share, thank you so much for your continued support and know there is plenty in the works x

all my love, <3

[xxsabitoxx]

Drunk!Satoru thoughts ~ 18+

Drunk Satoru would get wasted off of half a spiked seltzer. This bitch would be white girl wasted, sobbing in the corner of the room asking you if you’d still love him if he was a worm. He’s gonna be a whiny little bitch and so utterly sensitive. Even you caressing his arm will have him whimpering and whining.

You could ask drunk Satoru to sit on your lap… no better yet STRADDLE your lap and he’s doing it with enthusiasm. Doesn’t mater that he’s taller and bigger than you, he will put all of his weight on you and nearly crush you with the force of his love.

Sloppy make outs with drunk Satoru will always lead to sloppy fucking. Sloppy because he’s too far gone to actually be on top in any capacity, he’s relying on you to ride his dick till you’re done and will not be able to assist you in any capacity.

Sloppy because you’re equally as drunk and cannot bounce on his lap without his assistance after a while. So it turns into this wet mess of just half heartedly bouncing while primarily grinding your hip down on his.

Drunk Satoru is practically sobbing as you ride his dick, not stopping even after he has cum because he’s still fucking hard and you want to milk him for everything he’s worth. Either that or you’ll pass out first.

[ryukatters]

drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love

⟡ wc: 1.4k

Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.

The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.

He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.

Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.

It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.

Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…

…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.

You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.

“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.

“That’s what you get,” you laugh.

“You’re mean.”

“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”

His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.

Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.

“My head hurts,” he whines.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.

Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”

“What?”

“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.

“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”

“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.

“Wan’…wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.

“Satoru…”

Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”

He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”

“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”

You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.

He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.

You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.

He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.

Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.

His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”

You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.

Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.

“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.

You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.

Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.

“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”

a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎

[buckyalpine]

Bodyguard Bucky x Drunk reader

This little drabble is for an idea from one of my favorite angel babies, its SO CUTE. Might make a longer version of this at some point but for now: 

“Buckyyyy” You clung onto him like a koala, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the heady scent of his cologne. After a drink too many, you were happy to crawl into his lap, tipsy enough to happily wrap yourself around him, though still mostly aware of your surroundings. He remained silent, a classic grumpy scowl on his lips, keeping his eyes straight to the SUV. 

He wrapped his strong arms around you, carrying you and walking to the car, his broad frame keeping you snug against his chest while moving through the crowd with ease. No one stood in his way, immediately moving aside from his facial expression alone. Piercing blue eyes and a clenched jaw daring anyone to make the mistake of coming near you. 

“M’so sleepy” You whined against his neck, letting your hangs cling around his neck, squeezing your legs tighter around his tapered waist. 

“It’s okay pretty girl, I’m taking you home” He murmured, not wasting a second getting you outside and into the all black SUV that was parked at the club entrance. He swallowing thickly when he felt your soft lips press gentle kisses along his neck, the warmth of your breath tickling his skin as he slid into the back seat, nodding to the driver to get going. 

“So handsome” Your nose nudged into his shoulder, burying yourself into him as much as you could, refusing to let him move you from his lap. He spent the entire ride letting you cuddle into him while he held you securely, carefully holding you as he stepped out once you’d reached home. He carried you right to your bedroom, setting you down on your bed. You whined when he tried to pull away, pulling him back, giving him your sweetest pout, glassy and wide. 

“Please don’ go” You mumbled, tucking yourself into him, “Stay? Please?”

How was he supposed to leave you when you were so sweet and cuddly and so utterly adorably drunk. 

“Alright babygirl” He whispered, kissing your forehead, “I gotta get you clean up first through, okay?” He went to you bathroom, well versed in what your night time routine was, making note of the smallest details in everything you did in a day. He found some wipes, and your lotions, bringing them over and gently rubbing the makeup off your face while your mind was still stuck on the name he called you. 

“M’your babygirl?” You asked hopefully, noting the way his cheeks blushed, trying to ignore the way his heart fluttered but it was impossible around you. 

“Always, you’re always my babygirl” He smoothed the cool lotion onto your skin before helping you out of your heels. He convinced you to get changed out of your dress, staying stationed outside of the closet in case you fell over but you were changed seconds later. You came out in an oversized tshirt- his oversized tshirt to be exact, that you’d stolen unbeknownst to him. 

So that’s where it went he shook his head to himself, biting back a smile while you flopped back onto bed, stretching on the covers like a kitten before giving him grabby hands. 

“What is it princess” He knew what you wanted but it went against what he was there for. He had to protect you and to do that he couldn’t ever let his guard down. Not one moment of vulnerability, not when he had to protect you. 

But fuck, you were so utterly irresistible and he’d be lying to himself if he thought there was nothing he felt for you. He came down to tuck you in, hoping the warmth of the blankets would help you sleep but you tugged him into bed instead, wrapping your entire body around him. 

“You’re blushing” you giggled, cupping his scruffy cheek, letting your thumb trace his pink lips. He could help but chuckle, hoping you’d forget all this by morning, letting his fingers trace over your delicate features. 

“You act all grumpy but you’re actually a teddy bear”

He cocked an eyebrow while you tried to copy him, scrunching you brows together instead making him grin. He smoothed the line that formed between your brows, loving the way you continued to contort your face trying to match his grumpy face. 

“A teddy bear, huh?”

“My teddy bear” You sighed contently, snuggling into him, a yawn slipping past your lips. You let the warmth of his arms drift you off to sleep, still smiling as you snored softly. 

“My babygirl” He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, allowing himself to fall asleep with you; after all you’d always be safest in his arms. 

[hllfireclb]

+18 mdni, sorry for any writing mistakes!

"Guess I lied“ | e.m x fem !reader

"Eddie it- fuck! It hurts!“ your voice is nothing but a loud, high-pitched whine and the only sound in your boyfriends messy bedroom. Well that and the sounds of him licking and slurping at your sensitive, already overstimulated pussy. It‘s been a good hour since Eddie started eating you out, since he told you "It’d only be 5 minutes, promise“.

Well you should‘ve known it. Once Eddie starts eating you out, he can’t just stop after you came. He needs more. He almost gets obsessed with your taste on his tongue, your shaking legs around his head, the way your body reacts to his touch and good god your voice. He loves your voice so much. It’s the prettiest melody he‘s ever heard.

" 'M sorry baby but you just taste too fucking good. I need more. Just one more round 'kay?" His eyes meet yours from between your legs. His mouth and chin are covered in your juices, arousal and his spit. God he’s so messy. It’s so hot. But it’s never just "one more round“ he keeps getting greedier, greedier and greedier for you. A soft sigh escapes your lips and you let your head flop back on the pillow beneath you. "You said 5 minutes Ed‘s. You even promised“ you pout slowly even though you think Eddie can’t quite see it.

You expect him to answer you with a low "sorry baby“ followed by a soft kiss to your inner thigh, but instead you feel his tongue flick your sensitive bud. A devilish grin takes place on Eddie‘s lips when he sees your reaction, as he kisses your pussy again.

"Well, guess I lied ;)"

masterlist

[thepastdied]

No Filter

eddie munson x fem!reader FLUFF

18+ because some sexual themes. Overall, just fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Eddie is drunk and whiny because he's jealous of Steve. Not my gif. Would have tagged if I knew.

part 2 out now

A heavy arm clad in leather slumped around your shoulders.

You turned your head and were met with your alcohol reeking best friend, Eddie.

"Well helllllloo there, pretty girl. Come here often?" He winked at you, eyes hazy and body swaying.

"Eddie, this is my house." You laughed through your nose and wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

Music thumped throughout your house, and people were scattered in each corner. You weren't necessarily popular, but it was you and Eddie's idea to throw a party so he could make some quick cash. With the help of King Steve, of course. Seeing how he was already drunk, he must have already made his rounds. Unfortunately you had to work and didn't arrive until around 9 pm, about 3 hours into the party. Eddie was absolutely wasted and probably was on something else, too. You never knew with him.

"Steve.. the fuck is in this?" You took a sip of your drink and cringed. He laughed and shrugged, taking a sip and mirroring your reaction.

"Huh." Eddie huffed next to you, eyes narrowing and darting back and forth between you two.

"Should we whip together a new punch? May have put a little bit too much rum in this one." Steve pinched his thumb and pointer finger together, taking a couple steps back in the direction of your kitchen.

You were about to follow him when Eddie's arm tightened around you, leather squeaking against your shoulder. You looked at him quizzically when he let out a whiny groan.

"Eddie.. What's up? Do you feel okay?" He pulled his arm off you so that you could face him.

His cheeks were flushed and eyes hooded as he gazed down at you.

"Jus' want you to stay with me 's all.." He clumsily placed a hand on your waist and pulled you toward him. "You always gotta be aroun' King Steve… hmph." His lips turned down into a pout.

Your brain short circuited and you stared at him trying to piece together what's making him so mopey. Of course you were often around Steve. Though he hasn't asked you out yet, there was definitely something going on between you two.

You nervously laughed and gripped the front of his leather jacket as he stumbled back a bit. Your head was getting fuzzy yourself and you wished you were able to think a bit clearer.

"I think you should take a rest, Eds.." Your eyes trailed around the living room, pushing him toward the half empty sofa.

His fingers tightened on your waist as he was about to sit down and you pulled yourself from his grip gently. His lips turned down even more and he slumped his shoulders before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Fine. Go with your new boyfriend 'cause he's just s' cool with his cool hair and his cool coolness." He waved you off as he dramatically crossed his arms like a kid and huffed.

"Stop being a baby. I'll be right back." You gave him a deadpan expression and stuck your tongue out, tapping your shoe against his before going into the kitchen.

Steve was sitting on the counter with his arms crossed, various bottles of liquor, mixers, and other drinks littered across your island table.

"Soo.." He kicked himself off the counter to stand beside you, eyes scanning over all the ingredients.

"Is Eddie alright?" He itched the back of his neck as his eyes peeked through the doorway to where Eddie sat, still grumpy but now playing with a glowstick that someone left on the coffee table. Him and Steve were friends, actually, but he was so blasted that he was letting his feelings show a little too much.

"He's fine.." You laughed, shaking your head. "Such a big baby."

You both made the new punch and talked about random stuff, almost an hour passing before Eddie waddled in the kitchen.

"You two lovebirds done yet? I'm thirsty." He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, seemingly a little less drunk than before as he scowled at Steve.

You gave him an annoyed look at his comment before filling a cup and handing it to him, which he just took from you and set it on the counter.

He stared at Steve with his tongue in his cheek before kissing his teeth and grabbing his cup before disappearing again.

You opened your mouth to call for him as Steve put a hand on your shoulder.

"You should uh.. go check on him." He nodded his head toward the door.

You clenched your teeth as you weaved in and out of people. You were pissed, to say the least, because it felt like you were babysitting instead of enjoying the party. It took you almost twenty minutes to find Mr. Crankypants laying in your backyard. You trudged over to him, fists clenched by your sides and the water bottle you were holding crunching in your grip.

"Eddie, what is wrong with you?" You looked down at him, crossing your arms.

His eyes left the stars and met yours, widening as he stuck an arm up and pointed at you.

"Ah! My favorite star just appeared!!" He yelled, hand flapping in excitement.

You struggled to keep the scowl on your face, failing miserably as Eddie beamed at you, laughing at himself.

You sighed as he stood up, dusting himself off and eyes looking into yours fondly.

"You okay?" You stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm.

He let himself fall forward and stuffed his face into your neck, arms clenching around your waist.

"Woa-"

"Miss you, sweetheart.." He mumbled, lips brushing up against your neck.

"You're the one who ran off, silly." You hugged him tighter.

"Y-yeah but…" His voice cracked and you pinched your eyebrows together.

"Don' go with him, please." Eddie stuffed his face further into your neck when you tried to pull away.

You'd never been this close before, aside from his side hugs.

"What are you talking about, Eddie." You whispered.

He sighed, hot breath warming your throat. You pulled back and looked into his eyes, waiting for an explanation.

"Uhm.." He furrowed his eyebrows and puckered his lips.

"What're we talking about?" He quirked an eyebrow up. "Too much vodka-"

You rolled your eyes and pinched his cheek.

"Eddie. You don't want me around Steve." You blurted out, patience wearing thin.

His mouth opened and closed, lips turning downward and eyes glazing over with tears. You gasped and put your hands up.

"H-hey, it's fine- we don't have to talk about it." You hurriedly tried to change the subject.

He bowed his head down and sniffled as a tear rolled down his nose. Your heart sank when you tried to grab his hand, his whole body shrinking away from you. You said his name again but he only shook his head, huffing as more tears came out.

"Jus' wish I had a chance 's all." He hiccuped and angrily wiped his face with his sleeve, hair covering his face from your view. "- don't know how t'do this sorta thing like him." Another sniffle escaped him as he stepped further away from you.

The lump in your throat grew as you realized what the problem here was. He liked you and didn't want you to go with Steve. You mentally slapped yourself for being so blind to it.

You hopped forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward you and walking further into your yard, away from the several nosey eyes that were in Eddie.

You pushed his hair from his face, all wet due to his tears. He felt so embarrassed, confessing his feelings in this drunken state. But he just couldn't control what came out of his mouth. This wasn't planned. He never intended to tell you, was going to let you be with Steve because he knew deep down he was better for you. His low self esteem was what truly kept him from actually asking you out.

Your own eyes watered when you saw his tear stained face. His eyelashes soaked with fresh tears, face red and puffy. He took a deep breath and swallowed the saliva that collected in his mouth before lifting his hand to take a sip of his drink.

You giggled when his eyes quizzically looked at his empty hand and head turned to see his cup empty on the ground. His eyes met yours again, pinching at the corners as he lazily smiled at you. You handed him the water bottle you'd been holding.

"I think we should talk about this when you're not drunk, okay?" You leaned your head forward to peek under his curtain of hair that he suddenly flicked in front of his face.

"Mhm.."

"But… don't be sad. We are on the same page here, okay? I.. I won't go to him. I know what you're trying to say." You gently whispered and sighed in relief when he simply nodded back.

You pulled him into a hug and he hummed as he let the water bottle fall to the ground, his heart hammering against your chest.

"Look so pretty tonight.." He mumbled as his arms snaked around your waist, lower than they had been before.

You felt tingles run throughout your body due to both the tone of his voice and the path his hands were on. Eddie's palms smoothed over your lower back as he pulled you in more, if that was even possible.

You hummed and thanked him for the compliment, your face feeling hot.

"-always look s'pretty. But never seen you in a dress like this before.." Your lower belly began to feel hot as his lips brushed against your neck while he talked. He could have moved his head so his chin was resting on your shoulder. He knew what he was doing.

"T-thank you, Eds.." You gulped and his eyes shot open, smirking as he continued moving his hands.

"Hmm.. love it when you call me that." You could feel his teeth in your neck now, mouth fully on your skin as he spoke.

Your breath hitched when he placed the most gentle kiss behind your ear, lips barely touching your skin as they trailed down your neck and placed another peck before he sloppily began to mouth at the flesh there. He panted as he nibbled and kissed messily all over your neck, the night air feeling cool against your wet skin.

"E-eddie." You breathed out.

Eddie grunted and laughed when you tugged on his hair, pulling his head back. Your face felt like it was on fire and you were grateful it was dark.

"S-sorry." He snorted out a laugh nervously and started to shimmy off his jacket, getting annoyed when it got stuck on his arm. " s'hot out."

Your chest raised with each breath as you watched him. How the fuck could you even allow yourself to go out with someone else after the one you truly liked confessed to you? And he went at your neck like a fucking vampire-

"Mmm.. miss you." He croaked up at you, his voice weak from when he had been crying.

You blinked down at him to where he was now sitting, arms reaching out to you.

"Please don' go back to him." He pouted again and a laugh bubbled in your throat as you sat next to him.

"Well how am I supposed to after that?" You wiped a hand over your face and sighed.

He stared at you, eyes struggling to stay focused on yours when your neck was so visible.

"Need to do this side too-" He quickly scooted so his body was pressed against yours and latched his lips onto your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth and letting his tongue dart out.

"Eddie!" You gasped loudly as you pushed him away and laughed incredulously, slapping a hand over where you know a hickey is.

"Don't… don't tell me there's a mar-"

"Uh-huh there's mos' definitely a mark." He snickered at you and clumsily made his way onto his feet, eyes filled with lust as he watched you lick your lips and squeeze your thighs together. His legs stumbled a bit as he didn't have you to hang on to and he looked toward the house. Fuck, he was so hard.

"Gotta piss- be back in like.. fifteen." He held up 4 fingers.

You stifle a laugh and nod, wanting him to leave so you can fan your face. You were fucking sweating.

" 'f I wasn't so drunk… hmph." He put two fingers down out of the four he still had up and made a V, sticking his tongue out and obnoxiously laughing when you covered your face at the gesture.

" 'm actually going to jack off, I lied-"

"Eddie! Can you please leave!!" You laid on your back and covered your face, still laughing.

"Alright alright, sorry- no filter right now, sweetheart."

Your friendship will definitely never be the same.

Next part (18+) ->

updated 5/5

[kakushino]

I'm married, Miss

Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader

Your husband is a changed man when drunk.

Tags: fluff, alcohol consumption, post-Muzan era (so minor KNY spoilers?) Word count: 0,8k

Masterlist

Giyuu and you had gone on your customary monthly date night - to the lively izakaya you had first met at, introduced to each other by Tengen. It was a place that also served good food, other than the good alcohol, which was a definite bonus, but you were not thinking about any of the details of how or why you became a couple.

How could you, when Giyuu seemed to be deep in his cups and looking cute enough to eat?

A slight flush overtook his face some time ago, making you admire him with a bright smile. Your husband was so handsome, wasn’t he?

He took a small piece of food from the shared plate of assorted meats you shared, still a little clumsy with his left hand. He had an adorable frown marring his brow, his lips set in a pout, before he finally managed to successfully bring the bite to his lips, his expression relaxing as he chewed. 

He truly was a changed man when drunk.

“I love you,” you told him, still staring at him with a wide smile on your face.

Giyuu paused, blinking a few times, as if he’d just noticed you were there. “I’ll have you know I’m married, Miss,” he retorted neutrally, stumbling over his words a bit, the frown from earlier returning.

His answer surprised you. How much had he had to drink? Before you could tell him you were his spouse in question, he started to speak.

“I’m afraid you have no chance against her. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He jabbed his chopsticks in your direction, as his coworker Obanai used to do with his finger, accusatory. “You might be pretty but she’s prettier.”

Laughter bubbled from your throat. “Is she? Tell me more about her, please.” 

Giyuu’s frown was replaced by a completely neutral face, the only indication to his intoxication the blush on his cheeks. He was dead serious about ‘his wife’, it seemed. “She’s amazing,” he said breathily, adoration clear despite his expression. “My pearl, gods, what I wouldn’t give to hold her right now…” He looked down on his hand, still holding the chopsticks as it rested on the table, looking like a sad puppy. “She’s so-” he gestured oddly in the air, snapping his chopsticks as he concentrated, “she’s so comfort-shaped.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, your smile turning lovesick as you took in your drunk husband. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? He loved you as much as you loved him. 

“She’s my treasure, flashiest treasure - she’s always got this glow, you see?” Giyuu leaned forward as if he were telling you a great secret. “She’s beautiful.” He nodded sagely, agreeing with himself.

You couldn’t help but to ask him a personal question that had weighed on your mind for a time while he was out of it. “Oh, what about her bad traits? Surely, every human has a bad trait? Like, does she snore, or is she annoyin-”

“Absolutely not!” Giyuu looked offended at that. “My wife- my wife and annoying? No, never. Never ever-” he slurred his speech a little, waving his chopsticks threateningly in your face. “And how dare you say she snores! My pearl only ever releases the sweetest sounds known to man, but you-” he pointed at you angrily, “-you are hurting my wife’s honor, and I will fight you for that.” As if to prove a point, he jabbed his utensils into one of the meats on the plate and ate it, glaring daggers at you.

You were pleasantly surprised at the valiant defense of your character; it only made your husband more endearing, and you really, really wanted to continue teasing him - especially knowing he would remember this in the morning - but your bladder felt too full to sit still for much longer.

You excused yourself, which Giyuu ignored, still munching on the food with vigor. You kept giggling under your breath as you went to the lavatory, a sense of light schadenfreude making you grin wide, knowing he would suffer in the morning and regret his choices. Now however, you would enjoy the situation.

When you came back, your husband greeted you warmly, recognizing you at last. “Heyyy, my pearl,” he smiled warmly, leaning forward against the table to be closer to you. “I missed you - so much.” 

“I just had to go to the toilet, dear,” you reminded him with a soft laugh.

His flushed face scrunched up into a pout. “There was someone insulting you while you were gone. I defended you though.” Giyuu sat up straighter, preening a little, waiting for your compliment.

“Thank you, dearest,” you could only grin at that. Oh, you so would enjoy him remembering the night come morning.

dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear

Network: @enchantedforest-network

[dizzybizz]

ms jay herself (and apple)

[talaok]

The Mask

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You ask your husband Joel to buy a Ghostface mask to wear during your "alone time", and he’s more than happy to comply

Warnings: smut| mask kink, sir kink, degradation, threats of anal (but no actual anal), unprotected p in v sex, choking, Joel has a bit too much fun fulfilling your fantasy... but then also aftercare and soft husband!Joel cause ill always go back to my fluffy roots (also i don't specify it but obv they've talked about all their boundaries and everything, so they know each other's limits)

It had been such a stressful day that the last thing you had in mind was what had happened yesterday.

With Sarah wanting to change costume last minute because apparently she now hated the idea of being a princess and wanted to be a witch, with Molly's helicopter of a mom constantly calling you to make sure your daughter wouldn't get to the sleepover with lice or carrying a snack that god forbid had gluten in it... it had been such a hectic day that, once Joel finally managed to ride Sarah to her Halloween sleepover, all you wanted to do was lie in bed and hide under the covers... which is what you did...for twenty minutes, before you surrendered to the inevitable task of cleaning up the mess you'd made on the vanity from doing Sarah's makeup.

And it was then, as you were huffing and sighing loudly into what you thought was an empty house, that a figure appeared behind you, making your body run cold with fear, and your heart start to beat out of your chest.

You remained immobilized, frozen in your spot, watching from the mirror as the figure approached, backing away from where he was leaning on the door to walk towards you slowly...

And then you got it, your brain recovered from the scare and you pieced it together.

Such a quick conversation, such a quick decision you'd made as you shopped for Sarah's costume, that in all the chaos, it had managed to slip your mind.

"Ghostface?" he'd frowned once you handed him the mask "I don't think Sarah's even old enough to watch that movie"

And at that you had smiled, looking up at him with that devilish smile you got whenever you got a special idea.

"it's not for her"

his brows knitted in puzzlement again

God, for being such a smart man he sure was dense sometimes

"You wanna dress up too sweetheart?" he asked, making you inevitably snort.

"No" you'd laughed "it's for you"

"for me? what would I need to put this on f-"

And that was when he got it, watching you bite your bottom lip, as that particular spark lighted your eyes, then, he finally put it together.

"ohhh" he he breathed, a smirk making its way to his lips as soon as he realized "Oh yeah, we're definitely buying this"

And that's how you ended up here, watching your masked husband grab your waist to host you up so you were flashed against him, against his tight black t-shirt and black jeans.

You couldn't feel his breath, but you could hear him breathe heavily beside your neck, right against your ear, looking at you from the mirror and studying you as if you were a pray.

Now this wasn't the first time you'd asked him to do something... kinkier, you had made him buy a blindfold, you had your fair amount of toys locked in your bedside drawer, and you were sure some rope and one of those little leather whips you'd purchased once were still somewhere in your wardrobe, but this, the dressing up, the putting on a mask... this, you'd never done, this was all new...

And god were you excited.

"so..." he spoke, his voice huskier than usual, a giveaway of just how much he was enjoying this too already "You've got a boyfriend?"

Now if he got to play the part, so wanted you. 

What fun would this be otherwise?

"I've got a husband" you murmured, your voice faint, seemingly scared.

"mh..." he hummed, his head tilting downwards as if he was looking at you up and down "Lucky husband"

You wanted to say something, anything, but before you could even breathe he had turned you around, his strong, veiny hands gripping your waist.

"P-please" you shut your eyes "Please don't hurt me Mr. Ghostface"

A faint chuckle came from beside the mask

"It's sir" he corrected

Oh he knew you so fucking well

"I-I'm sorry... sir" you whimpered, trying to get used to not getting to look into his hazel eyes, but instead into two big black holes. 

"A-are you gonna hurt me, sir?"

His thick fingers caressed your sides, as he took his time answering you

"no" he finally said "Not if you behave" he explained, his grip tightening, a simple gesture, a simple threat "Are you gonna behave y/n?"

"y-yes" you nodded, actually believing it now, actually losing yourself in the fantasy.

He didn't need to say anything, all he did was tilt his head, and you had realized your mistake.

"yes, sir"

"good girl"

Just two words, and your panties were drenched.

He didn't speak, all he did was break away from you to walk backward until he could sit on the edge of the bed, watching you expectantly.

"go on"

that's all he said, and fuck but that's all you needed.

Your eyes remained on him as you took off every piece of your clothing. You started softly tugging your shirt off, listening to his breathing falter, then you got rid of your pants, then it was time to undo your bra, and then finally, finally you were shuffling your panties down your legs just to step out of them.

A whispered groan fled his lips at the sight, and he couldn't help but stand up to meet you.

His right palm landed on your asscheeks before you even realized what was happening, and a soft whimper escaped your throat in response

"real lucky husband" he growled

An hour ago, you were trying his daughter's Halloween costume on her in this exact room, and now there you were, naked, in front of your masked husband.

"please sir" you pleaded

"What?" he hushed "What do you want?"

He was slowly rounding you, bringing a hand around your torso with him, sending shivers everywhere they could be

"I-I"

"I want to hear you say it" he purred, right against your ear now "I want to hear you beg for my cock, beg for me to fuck you, I know you want it"

"I- Sir, I-"

"I want you to admit just how much of a slut you are" he murmured, now in front of you "I want you to admit just how much you want it"

“Please Sir-i need you”

“Mhh” he hummed, “what do you need?”

His left hand started a slow path down your belly, igniting shivers with his touch, until he was right there, and all he did was cup your pussy and he broke you completely

“You, I-inside of me” you whimpered

"is that right?" he taunted, tilting his head

"yes" you nodded "yes, please sir-"

But once again, he had turned you around like a doll, powerless to his strength, and stole your words from your tongue.

The table rutted from the impact once he pushed your back down on it, your head almost hitting the hardwood.

"Is this what you want?" 

His rough jeans and hard bulge were flashed against your bare ass, making you squirm.

"answer me" he demanded, gripping your hair to yank your head back so you could look at him from the mirror "I asked you a question"

"yes" you murmured "Yes please"

A snicker made its way to your ears as you heard the familiar sound of his zipper undoing.

"aren't you the little whore..." he growled, his insult only rendering you all the more desperate as he slapped his cock on your asscheeks "You'd let me put it anywhere I want?" he mocked, his tip infiltrating between your crack and probing at your other entrance "even in this pretty little hole?"

You gasped.

"I bet you would" he teased "I bet you'd let me do anything I want with you" his head tilted to the left, watching you biting your lip as you tried to keep a straight face, and failing miserably "you're just a poor slut that's desperate to be filled, you don't care in which hole, do you?" he asked now, "answer me"

"y-yes" you stuttered "I-I'm a slut, I'll take anything you'll give me sir, just please-"

"please what?"

"please put it in"

you couldn't see the smirk on his lips, but you sure as hell could hear it.

"Since you asked so nicely..."

And it was then, it was then that he trusted his whole length and girth inside of you with one single push, making you cry out into the thick air and forcing the whole table to shake just for him to not even wait a second, he didn't give you a moment to breathe, a moment to recover, no, he did the opposite... he started splitting you in fucking half.

All the remaining makeup on the vanity was tumbling down onto the floor one by one, but he didn't show signs of slowing down, or god forbid stopping.

The sound of his skin slapping with yours bounced off the walls with each merciless thrust, and you... you were fucking gone.

"look at that" his grip on your hair tightened as he forced your head back even more "I want you to see how much you like this" he groaned, his digits on your waist definitely leaving marks "How much of a slut you are" he spoke "how much you enjoy getting fucked by a stranger"

You wanted to say something, anything really, but as you watched your reflection, your eyes spilling tears, your cheeks wet and your mascara smudged all over... all your mouth could produce were moans, or whimpers, or curses not even belonging to the English language each time his dick hit that spot inside of you that made you want to scream.

"Look at that" Your scalp hurt as he fisted your hair more "Look at how fucking pathetic you look" he spit as you gasped for air and as you felt your belly tighten in that way it did before your release.

"you're gonna cum already?" he realized, his tone mocking "The slut likes it so much she's not even gonna last a minute?"

"Mh-mh" you hummed, "y-yes, I-it's too..." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you gripped the edge of the table until your knuckles went white as the orgasm unexpectantly overtook your whole body, only letting you moan out a "good" before you were back to a non-verbal state and cried in pleasure.

He let you ride out your high, but as soon as you came down he had manhandled you and threw you on the bed back down, not even giving you a moment to realize what was happening before he had slipped his cock inside you again.

His hand took hold of your arms and pinned them above your head as you arched your back at the feeling of this new angle. It wasn't as deep but the way his pelvis rutted against your clit with each movement of his hips, made it all just as breathtaking, and speaking of which...

His other hand sneaked up your chest, diverting a moment to grab at your boobs before he was wrapping his fingers around your throat, first gently and then applying more and more pressure, until you were completely in a sensory overload and all you could feel was pleasure in its purest form.

"fuck-look at that, you're so desperate for this cock that your pussy's sucking me back in"

He taunted, his thrusts remaining as unforgiving as ever. 

you had lost all touch with reality, this wasn't your husband, this wasn't you, this wasn't your bedroom this was- you didn't even know what it was, you just knew your brain had stopped working long ago, and you were on the verge of another mindblowing orgasm

"what would your husband think seeing you like this?" he purred as he forced your head to the mirror again, and this time, the image you were met with was only more of a mess, your cheeks red, your mascara nonexistent, and your mouth parted, desperately looking for air that it wasn't gonna find any time soon...

"drunk on another man's cock" he continued, his grip on your neck tightening to the point you were seeing black dots staining your vision "Not even able to speak anymore" he groaned "Look at yourself... such a fucking whore"

And then inevitably, as fucked up as that may be, those words sent you over the edge, your legs shaking and your walls tightening around him as you moaned louder than you'd ever had.

And at the feeling you were granting him, he couldn't help but follow suit, filling you up with a loud groan, until his juices and yours mixed as they ran down your thighs.

It took more than a moment for either of you to get back to reality, but as always, Joel managed to beat you to it, pulling out of you and taking his mask off, revealing his flushed and fucked out state as he whispered a low "fuck"

"sweetheart?" he called, stroking your cheek once you wouldn't open your eyes "Are you ok?" he asked "Did I go too far?"

"n-no" you murmured almost inaudibly as you shook your head "You were... perfect, I'm just" a yawn interrupted your words

Tired. 

he didn't need you to finish the sentence, all he did was pick you up and place you softly on your side of the bed, positioning your head gently on the pillow

"stay here, I'll clean you up"

As if there was any chance you'd get out of bed after that

And he did, he cleaned you between your thighs with a wet cloth, gave you a tall glass of water to drink, and then set you under the covers just to join you a moment later, watching you crawl closer to him until each part of your body was touching one of his.

"Better?" he asked, petting your hair as you looked up at him with your head on his chest 

"yes" you smiled "Thank you"

he stroked your back as he leaned down to kiss you "I love you" he promised

"I love you" you vowed back

He smiled too now as he leaned back on the headboard

"you wanna watch something?"

"sure"

"mhh" he hummed, pointing the remote at the tv "Got anything in mind?"

And there it was again, that dangerous dangerous grin

"How about Scream?"

[viviaj]

you’re housing a glass of something brown.

it’s definitely alcohol and it’s definitely strong. which isn’t surprising, since it’s kiyoomi’s.

kiyoomi is tall amongst his team mates. black slacks and a black shirt loosely tucked in to his frame; he looks vampiric as his skin glows in the shitty house-party lights.

his waist is slimmer than the other’s around him. the curve of his shoulders into his stomach and down to his hip bones are perfect.

you watch him snort and cover his mouth as he laughs at something, quickly waving it off as shoyo asks to do a shot with him. kiyoomi rolls his eyes, and they take the shot.

it’s maybe half an hour later when you see kiyoomi stumble his way back to you and your couch. his hair is sticking to his face, and his shirt looks like it’s been untucked in places.

the sunken-in brown leather couch dips when kiyoomi slides into your side.

“you having fun?” you ask as kiyoomi presses his nose into your cheek, you giggle a bit as his breath tickles your skin.

“so much fun,” he says as he’s pressing open mouthed kisses on the side of your face, his lips moving towards the base of your neck, and all the way up to the bottom of your ear.

“you’re so cute over here, jus’ sittin’ by yourself,” he mumbles, “holdin’ my drink for me.. so sweet and kind,” he’s talking nonsense.

you nod along because what do you even say to that? it’s hard to argue with him as he’s sliding his hand up and down your thigh, teeth nibbling at your ear.

“can’t stop touching you,” you squirm as his hand sinks higher up your thigh, “i want you so badly baby, please.” he’s practically begging you, with his hand moving towards your inner thigh you can’t help but inch closer to him— he’s so close.

“not here omi,” you turn to try and return his kisses but he just whines.

“no, no you don’t— you can’t say that,” he presses his hand in further, all whiny, “please just— baby just let me do this, i can’t help myself.”

there’s an insatiable feeling coiling in your stomach.

“people are looking.” you try to calm down, slightly pushing against kiyoomi’s hands.

“i don’t care,”

you can see his cock hardening in his slacks, and he looks so good.

there’s a distant whoop and cheer in the distance and you have half a mind to think it was aimed at the two of you.

“kiyoomi..” you sigh.

“don’t. just stop talking— please,” he grabs your hand and slowly places it on his clothed cock. his hips immediately buck up into you. you’ve never seen him so needy before.

“you’re so hard,”

“yeah? you feel it?” he’s mouthing against you, “it’s all for you. you know that, yeah?”

and no. you didn’t really know that. kiyoomi has never been so vulnerable. usually the quiet and stern type during these moments, this is the first time he’s ever been so open.

you slowly rub your hand up and down, enough for kiyoomi to whine his way to your lips, pressing light kisses in a way that can only be seen as desperate.

“i love when you touch me. so much. shit,” he mumbles, “i don’t say it enough. i swear,” his lips are so warm.

“kiyoomi, let me take you home,”

he shakes his head no against you, “no. need you now.”

“i cant give you what you need here,” you mutter, embarrassed at even saying anything like that in public.

“you don’t need to,” his slender fingers move over your underwear, slowly touching you. your chest gets caught in your throat and you’re suddenly aware of everything in the room, “feel good?” he kisses your jaw.

he slips his hand under your clothes, his fingers tracing over you and your thighs. your hand covers your mouth as kiyoomi feels you.

“guys?”

you jerk back into the seat as shoyo approaches the two of you. to your horror, omi doesn’t even pretend to stop, his fingers moving over you like it was his job.

“yes?” he sounds bored.

and at that point their voices are gone. all you can feel are his fingers and his breath and his body. it’s just him him him.

and then it’s not.

kiyoomi’s stroking your cheek slowly, “gonna get another drink,”

“wait. what? kiyoomi? why did—”

he looks devilish as he presses a small kiss on your forehead.

“i’ll be back.” voice full of sweetness as you’re writhing on the couch, “i’ll take care of you at home.”

[wolfstardaughter-jj]

~new year's eve party at the Weasley's~

Y/n, who's extremely drunk: Harold, I have something to tell you but it's a secret okay!

Harry who is very sober: Y/n, I won't tell a soul.

~later on~

Harry: RON! RON! RON! Y/N HAS A CRUSH ON ONE OF YOUR BROTHERS!

Ron who is also very very drunk: BLOODY HELL! SERIOUSLY?!? ohhhh I wonder who it is... Percy? No he's a git...Charlie?! No, she doesn't really know him that well... BILL?!? Wait no, he's engaged... George? Wait or is it Fred? Wait which one of them is which....oh crap....*big gasp* WHAT IF ITS GINNY?! Wait no, she's my sis-

Harry:... It's Fred

Ron: OHHHHHH!!!

Ron:

Ron: which one of them is Fred again?

[cambion-companion]

How woud Aemond react to his wife cheating... in chess?

Every time he looks away, she steals a piece off of the board and just smiles when he looks back at her. Like she isn't even trying to win she's just doing this to mess with him a little

Oh wow, I found another drunk drabble prompt! Thank you Anon, this is a hilarious follow up to the message I answered "How would Aemond react to his wife cheating" haha

Aemond x wife!reader | tipsy reader | cheating at chess | Aemond indulging his lady, teasing ensues

"It's your turn, Y/N."

You continued sipping on your wine, your mind already fuzzy from the drink, swirling the bitter liquid around in your mouth as you studied the chessboard in consternation.

Aemond sat back in his chair, his lips pressed together as he watched you with a mixture of impatience and amusement.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but you held up a hand to shush him. "I'm thinking."

"A demanding endeavor, it seems."

"I'm not losing to you again, Aemond."

"Perhaps more wine would help." He smirked, catching your eye as you shot him a withering look, taking another deliberate swig from your goblet.

"Fine." You moved your rook forward several spaces.

You winced as Aemond immediately took your piece with his knight. "Fuck."

"Check."

You groaned, holding the rim of your cool glass against your aching temple.

A servant bearing more drink arrived, drawing away your husband's attention for a few crucial moments. You reached forward, surreptitiously removing Aemond's own rook from the board and stowing it in the cushions beside you. "Ah, thank you." You beamed at the servant as he refilled your cup.

Aemond was studying his board with a raised brow, his violet eye flicked up to your studiously neutral expression. "Your move, Y/N."

"Oh yes, of course."

This went on several more minutes; you losing your pieces to Aemond's keen strategizing and him losing his own pieces whenever he was sufficiently distracted enough for you to steal them.

As Aemond turned his head to observe a group of guards moving across the hall, you tried to take away his queen without him taking notice. Long fingers caught your wrist as Aemond turned swiftly back to you, aware the whole time of your ruse. He pulled you toward him, unseating you and causing you to tumble onto his lap, scattering the remaining pieces across the board.

"You tried to take my queen?" He rolled his eye, snorting a short laugh. "You do know cheating at chess is nigh impossible."

"I'm the only queen you need, my king." You giggled, feeling his dexterous fingers begin probing at the ticklish part of your sides.

Your face was flushed from the wine and the sudden proximity of the Targaryen prince you called husband.

Aemond sighed, hoisting you so you were more securely seated against him. "I've always thought it interesting the queen is the one with the most power over the board." You watched him with soft adoration as he continued his musing. "She is the one with the most power to protect the king."

"I'd protect you with my life too." You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, feeling the low vibration of his chuckling, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"My ember." Aemond said affectionately into your hair before placing a gentle kiss to your crown.

The warmth of his arms encircling you combined with the heady heat of the wine caused your eyes to droop with sleepy contentment. "Take me to bed, Aemond." You murmured, your lips brushing the soft skin of his neck.

"As my lady commands." He rose with you in his arms, your arms coming to grip around his shoulders as he strode toward your chambers. "Remind me to not play chess with you while you're drinking."

"You're just a sore loser." You smiled, kissing his temple. "My strategizing prowess is clearly too much for you to handle."

"Hmm." Was your terse answer, Aemond shaking his head in fond bemusement as he carried you to bed.

[poisonlove]

can you write a fem reader x tara fic where reader is anika’s best friend or sister or something and anika wants to introduce reader to the group

Oh yes, I really like the idea, haha. I just hope you like what I've come up with. Sorry for the delay, but sooner or later, I'll write every request. 😊

The night we met | t.c

tara carpenter x reader

"Excuse me, sorry," I uttered with difficulty, trying to navigate through the crowd.

I found myself at the fraternity party in New York, immersed in the atmosphere of loud music and an air filled with a mix of sweat and grass. It was Halloween, and the guys were dressed up, adding a touch of eccentricity to the party. The noise of laughter and music served as a background as I struggled to make my way through the crowd, eager to reach my destination amid the festive chaos.

I released a sigh of relief as I made my way through the crowd, and finally, in the center of the party I saw a familiar scene. My best friend, Anika, was sitting on a small couch with a girl. It was clear that she was Anika's girlfriend considering how Anika had her legs stretched over hers, and the girl's hand was absentmindedly caressing Anika's leg.

I approached with a smile, happy to have found my destination amidst all the festive chaos.

"Hey," I said smiling at my best friend. Anika gave me a beautiful smile as soon as our eyes met.

"Mindy... this is y/n, my best friend," Anika introduced, pointing in my direction. "y/n, this is Mindy, my girlfriend," she announced, smiling broadly and giving a playful look to her girlfriend.

"Pleasure to meet you," I said in a loud voice, trying to make myself heard amidst the party's noise.

"The pleasure is mine," Mindy replied with a smile, looking at me with curious eyes.

"Cute costume," she noted immediately, looking me up and down with a mischievous smile. "Certainly... frightening," she added laughing under her breath.

"Thank you," I replied, slightly embarrassed. Perhaps Harry Potter wasn't the most suitable choice for this situation, now that I think about it.

"I'm going... going to get something to drink," I said, leaning toward Anika, who nodded in agreement.

I made my way through the crowd again, heading towards the drink counter a few meters away. While walking, a girl who was dancing accidentally elbowed me, making me lose my balance and collide with someone.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," I immediately said after regaining my balance, looking up to apologize to the person I had bumped into.

When my eyes met hers, I was mesmerized. Before me stood a girl dressed as a pirate, with brown hair cascading to her shoulders.

"Don't worry, it's fine," she said calmly, indicating that she was unharmed by our collision. Her eyes, glazed from alcohol, analyzed me more closely.

I responded with a slightly embarrassed smile.

The girl with a smile on her face approached me even more causing my heartbeat to quicken. The height difference between us became evident as we looked into each other's eyes. Her presence, heightened by the festive atmosphere and the effect of alcohol, created an aura of curiosity and excitement.

The pirate, tilting her head, raised her hands to my face. With a confident and gentle gesture, she adjusted my round glasses.

"There you go, much better," she said laughing softly.

"TARA!"

The voice resonated in the chaos of the party and I immediately turned my gaze towards the sound. I saw Tara turning, revealing her well-defined jaw, upturned nose, and full lips.

"Everything okay?" Mindy asked, directing the question to Tara and showing a slight concern as I turned to see.

Tara's brown eyes turned back in my direction, radiant with brightness and fascination. "Let's go get something to drink, Pottah," she said, smiling widely, and a slight giggle escaped when she pronounced "Potter" with an English accent.

"That's what I wanted to do, Elizabeth Swann," I replied, amused.

Tara raised an eyebrow with curiosity, her scrutinizing gaze fixed on me. "Swann?" she asked with genuine curiosity. "Oh... it was a reference to Pirates of the Caribbean, you know... like a matching costume to your pirate outfit,"

I was grateful that the room was relatively dark, allowing me to conceal my embarrassment.

Tara chuckled softly. "Got it, I was teasing you." She raised a hand, shaking it timidly while she spoke.

"Could I have another?" she asked the person behind the counter, genuinely smiling. It was only then that I realized Tara already had a glass in her hand.

"There's none left," the guy behind the counter replied.

And that's when a certain guy approached with a flirtatious smile. "Hey beauties... I'm Edward," the guy said, but he only looked at Tara. "Y/n," I said, annoyed. "Tara," the girl replied with a smile on her lips.

My eyes rolled slightly without making a sound.

"In the kitchen, there's something to drink... if you want," Edward affirmed, giving me a dazzling smile t

Tara and i along with Edward, made our way to the kitchen to get something to drink. As I took a sip, the strong, bitter taste of alcohol made me scrunch up my nose. Meanwhile, Edward was openly flirting with Tara, creating a tense and uncomfortable atmosphere that made me wish I were elsewhere.

The guy put an arm around Tara's waist, causing clear discomfort to the brunette.

It was clear that the guy wanted to take Tara upstairs. With a pleading look, Tara asked me to help her in that embarrassing situation. Her expression reflected a mixture of discomfort and hope as she sought a way out of that embarrassing situation.

"Hey!" I said seriously, putting my hand on Edward's arm.

The guy, obviously tipsy, looked at me confused, smiling mischievously. "If you want to come too, I won't complain," he chuckled quietly.

"Let go of Tara," I said seriously, tightening my lips at the disgusting proposition. "She doesn't want to," I added, shooting a glance at the pirate.

"Potter..." Edward muttered weakly. "I'll make her change her mind," he concluded, smiling.

"Tara! Let's go home," Anika intervened, looking at the guy attentively.

"He won't let her go," I said nervously, noticing how Tara looked at me with bright eyes, perhaps trying to hold back tears.

"Tara stays here," a guy intervened. Mindy was next to him.

a statuesque cowboy.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion thinking that maybe he was the pirate girl's boyfriend.

"Come on, Chad... we just want to have some fun," the guy said, his face red from alcohol.

"She stays here," the guy reiterated seriously, approaching the stairs.

Edward, climbing two steps, made Tara lose her balance, clearly not wanting to follow him. The sudden movement surprised her, and her expression reflected a combination of fear and disorientation as she tried to maintain stability. Edward's firm grip on her arm seemed more like an attempt to drag her than a supportive gesture, adding an element of constraint to the embarrassing situation Tara found herself in.

Tara grimaced, trying to hide the pain as Edward insisted on dragging her up the stairs.

In the blink of an eye, the situation escalated as Chad grabbed Edward by the shirt, attempting to force him to step down. Edward, trying to retaliate, eventually let go of Tara. With a swift motion, the pirate sought refuge in my arms, trying to regain balance after the unexpected turmoil. The tension in the air was palpable as gazes clashed, with Tara still a bit disheveled but clearly grateful to have escaped from that unwanted aggression.

"Take her outside," Anika said seriously. Without saying anything, I found myself walking with Tara against my body toward the exit of the house.

Outside, silence reigned supreme, broken only by the occasional passing car. The starry sky shone, and the full moon illuminated the night. The cold made Tara shiver slightly, enveloped in the quiet of the evening.

"Are you okay?" I asked with concern.

Tara looked at me, smiling and nodding.

I decided to take off my tunic, a sort of jacket I was wearing, and offered it to her. In short sleeves and jeans, I noticed the cold was starting to be felt a bit.

"Take this, it might help you warm up," I suggested, offering my tunic to Tara in the hope that it could give her at least some comfort.

Tara raised the corners of her lips, putting on the coat I had given her and looking at me with a grateful expression.

She swayed slowly towards me, resting her hands on my shirt. Her gaze was directed at me with her chin slightly lifted. A mixture of vulnerability and gratitude reflected in her eyes.

"Thank you," she said timidly.

My cheeks tinged with red due to the proximity, and Tara smiled sweetly. With a sloppy attempt, the girl tried to stand on tiptoe, causing a laugh from me for her effort.

Tara pouted, but it was amusing to see the slightly tipsy girl.

Tara's hands moved gently on my face, removing my glasses.

With a smile on my lips, I watched as the girl pushed her glasses up on her head, looking at me curiously. My smile faded when I saw Tara lean forward, eager to press her lips to mine.

"Tara... you're drunk," I said, smiling amusedly. "And I'm a girl," I clarified, not wanting Tara in her state to overlook the situation.

For heaven's sake, I was gay, but I didn't want to kiss a drunk straight girl.

"And so what? I've noticed," she replied, smiling, biting her lower lip. "I just want to kiss you," she affirmed, amused.

Her hand caressed the lightning-shaped scar on my forehead. "You're extremely sexy with this costume," she murmured.

"You have a boyfriend," I said with a slightly irritated tone, remembering a certain Chad. Tara gave a wide smile, shaking her head. "I don't have a boyfriend," she said amusedly.

"In any case, you're drunk," I reiterate, amused, sensing how Tara smelled of alcohol and most likely a perfume."Maybe you can give me a kiss when you're conscious of your actions," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

"Pottah, kiss your Hermione," she blurted out with a smile on her lips, and I rolled my eyes at her comment. "Actually, it's Ginny," I said, smiling slightly. "Whatever it is," mumbled Tara.

"Another time," I added, smiling at her amusing behavior.

Tara sighs loudly and leans against my chest, wrapping her arms around my body in search of warmth. My eyes curiously scanned the exit of the house, but the smile faded from my face when I saw Anika's eyes looking at me mischievously from a distance. Her girlfriend did the same, and the only one confused was the guy next to them.

Oh, crap. I'm in for an unpleasant interrogation.

[neteyamsyawntu]

I Need You, But I Don't Want You

Drunk!Neteyam X InHeat!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Based off a request by @athenachu I hope you like it, love! Original request here

Warnings:🔞MINORS DNI🔞 Mentions of Intoxication/ being under the influence of alcohol, SMUT, P in V, Fingering, Brief mentions of spitting, masterbation, Heat, Knotting, Mean!Neteyam, lil bit of dom!reader(lemme know if I missed anything) (lightly proofread)

Neteyam is 26, Reader is 24

“There… that should do it. Just remember to replace the bandages and add some of this ointment to the wound, twice a day.” You instruct the young na’vi hunter who was rising from his spot in front of you, taking the ointment from your out stretched hand. That was it. The last of the members from the hunting party had been tended too. Taking a deep breath of relief you began to clean up your mess in efforts the leave the Tsahìk’s tent better then you had found it. Mo’at gazed at you from across the room, a pleased smile swept across her face, “you learn fast my numeyu(student)”. You beamed at this. You were fond of the Tsahìk and were more than eager when she offered to train you personally about a month and a half ago, “I had a pretty good teacher” you shrug as if your success was obviously accredited to the Tsahìk herself. Throwing the last of the bloody bandages in the fire at the the center of the tent, you raise your arms over your head, arching your back in efforts to stretch out your stiff muscles with a gratified sigh. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning, Mo’at” you call collecting your belongings, making your way toward the entrance of the tent, “Actually I’d like you to stay a while longer, Y/N…” Mo’at spoke candidly, “…I am expecting some guests and I want you to be here when they arrive”. Guests? This late at night? Surely most of the clans members were off at dinner or asleep by now. Nevertheless you obliged her wishes, moving to the table on the far side of the tent, beginning the task of organizing any stray herbs to busy yourself. Before long your ear flicked to the sound of the tent flap being pushed open, eyes still focuses on your work, “Ah- there is my handsome grandson” Mo’at gushed rising to her feet with her arms stretched out. Your attention now moved to gaze over your shoulder, your lack of formality now seemed unbecoming as you registered that the Olo’eyktan and his eldest son were present. Turning swiftly on your heels you immediately gesture to Jake with your fingers to your forehead, “I see you, ma Olo’eyktan. I see you Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan” the pair of men reflecting the same gesture back at you. 

“I have good news for you my grandson, I have found you a Tsahìk!” Mo’at mused proudly, moving to stand next to Neteyam with a hand placed on his shoulder, leading his gaze to where you now stood. Locking eyes with the future Olo’eyktan you couldn’t help, but blink confused slowly shifting your gaze to Mo’at, “M-Mo’at I don’t think I understand..” you say smiling uncomfortably at the elder na’vi, somewhat relieved as you noticed Neteyam was just as flabbergasted . “Grandmother this really is not necessary..” he gulped, now determined to keep his eyes off of you. “It is, and the arrangements have already been made. Your father agrees that Y/N will be a fitting match for you”. Neteyam now shot a menacing glare at his father who only met him with his own stern glance, “Father how could you-“, “I don’t wanna hear it Neteyam. You’re 26, about to be 27 and you haven’t even tried looking for a mate.” Jake interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest, his brows creasing in annoyance. “That is my choice to make, not yours” Neteyam shot back, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “The people need a Tsahìk, Neteyam” Mo’at urged, “I am an old woman…Eywa will not wait for any of us to be ready. We must prepare while there is still time”. Neteyam scrunched his nose, his mind feeling heavy in thought. Taking a single glance back at you, Neteyam storms past his father, his shoulder aggressively bumping into the Olo’eyktan’s as he rushes out of the tent. 

Jake called after his son, his voice booming in the small tent making you shiver at the wrath of the Olo’eyktan. Your head began to spin, so much so you found yourself catching your breath as if the air around you was thinning. You had to find a way out. Anything that could get you away from the tension that now harbored the Tsahìk’s tent. “E-excuse me, um… I will try to talk to him” you squeak, sliding past both Mo’at and Jake who were firmly planted in their spots, making a hasty exit out the tent. Luckily Neteyam hadn’t made it too far, his pace steady with heavy strides making it easy for you to catch up to him, “Neteyam! Wait a second!” You called out to him, now trailing directly behind the young warrior, “I do not want to talk, just leave me be” he growled, his eyes focused on the path ahead. You had to get his attention even if it was just a moment to sympathize with him a bit, seeing as you both were thrust into the same situation. Grabbing his arm securely you only now noticed how clammy your hands were. Did this whole ordeal really stress you out that much? “Neteyam please I know-“, a quick brush of air blew across you as Neteyam hastily turned to glare down at you, “Do not tell me that you understand, this has been my entire life-“ Neteyam was fuming as he gestured back toward Mo’at’s tent, “always being told what to do, how to act- now who to marry? No I will not let them decide my fate like that” with a rough tug of his arm Neteyam shook himself loose of your slippery grasp, “This cannot happen. It will not” he growled, his finger shifting between the two of you. You tried your best to take in everything that was happening, your head beginning to throb the harder you worked your brain to focus. That’s when you felt it. The familiar burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, growing hotter and hotter. Panic immediately surged through your body, as you took in to account that you were out in the open. You had to get back to your tent quickly, before your pheromones began to waft out enough to lure in hungry males, “Finefine, y-yes not h-happening” you stutter as your composure began to steadily crumble, briskly walking past Neteyam with your only goal being to get back to your tent in one piece.  

Throwing open the flap of your tent, you hurriedly enter the familiar space, ripping all pieces of clothing off your body, desperate to cool yourself down as you settled down on your mat. “Shit shit shit, not now”, Your body now trembled with need, the fire lit inside your core burning at its peak. “Ahg..fuck…” you groan, as your cunt begin to throb and clench around nothingness, feeling your heavy slick begin to drip down your leg. You shift to lay on your back, spreading your legs wide, allowing your hand to fall down to your neglected hole, eagerly inserting two of your digits inside, moaning out at contact. Yet it wouldn’t be enough. It never was. This of course wasn’t your first heat. Typically you preferred to hide yourself deep in the forest until the cycle had passed for the month, but this time around it had come a week early, leaving you with no time to prepare. 

——————————————

Neteyam found himself with his back pressed against the trunk of hometree, his head slung back as he downed heaping mouthfuls of alcohol, the liquid burning his throat with each swallow. Neteyam was never big into drinking, only really seeing it fit during celebrations and even then he would hardly partake in the act. Now however he decided to indulge himself and drown his anguish in the haze of the fermented juice. With a loud exasperated groan Neteyam dropped the bottle to his side, holding it loosely by the neck as his chin made contact with his chest, the world around him already spinning due to the intoxication of the burning liquid searing itself into his brain. He tried to think of the positives, maybe this arrangement wouldn’t be so bad? Neteyam did admit you were cute, a clearly a skilled healer, but what did that mean to him? How could he expect himself to mate with someone he hardly knew? That’s when Neteyam decided he would confront you about it, not taking his drunken state into account when creating his plan. He would seek you out and put an end to this arrangement. Make it clear that the two of you were never meant to be. 

As he neared your tent, Neteyam quickly picked up on your scent. The pheromones practically assaulting his nostrils, not failing to draw a thicker haze over his mental state. Neteyam was swaying with every step, breathing heavy as he drew closer to your home. His mind swirled as he stood at the entrance, heart aching once he heard the little strained whines that came from inside. “Has she been crying?... I have to make this right”, Neteyam thought to himself with his gaze locked on his feet, Neteyam lifted the flap, sheepishly entering the tent. “Y/N I’m sorry for intruding, I wanted to apologize for-“ a faint squelching noise halted his next words, his eyes now lifting to lock on the scene taking place in front of him, processing the sight of you stretched out on the floor drenched in sweat, your three fingers buried in your sopping heat, hips bucking against them desperately. “-Oh shit..” Neteyam whispered to himself, raising his hand to protect his nose from your raging pheromones. He watched as your body trembled and shook uncontrollably, yearning for the emptiness in your core to be filled. Your head snapped back and forth against the mat, whimpering out distressed pleas to make it stop, before your eyes finally settled on the male standing stiff ahead of you, his eyes locked on your soaked cunt. How your slick rolled down your knuckles and onto the mat below you. “Oh! Neteyam!” You moan out in relief, continuing to grind yourself against your fingers, “It hurts…ack- it hurts so bad, p-please make it stop” you beg, your heat now fully taken over your consciousness, now having completely forgotten that this was the same man who practically told you he wanted nothing to do with you. The sentiment was now starting to grow on Neteyam, becoming engulfed by the chemical war-fair your body was producing. If he were sober, Neteyam would’ve marched straight back out of the tent the moment he realized what was happening to you, but with the current influence he was under, his lack of judgment led him astray. 

Taking a deep swallow, Neteyam swayed his way over to you kneeling down in front of your spread legs, his hands pressing against your knees pushing them further apart, in attempts to balance himself in his woozy state as his gaze fixed on how your fingers worked themselves in and out of your drenched pussy, “I-it is your heat?” Neteyam asked looking for confirmation to something he already knew. He could feel the way his body reacted to your scent alone, how his cock now pressed firmly against the inside of his loincloth. You could smell the faint wafts of alcohol from his breath, but prompted to ignore that fact for the time being, “Ahh please Teyam… I need to feel you- here” trailing off you allow your fingers to draw out from your hole, now rubbing the digits along your slit, knowing his eyes were following every movement. Without a second thought Neteyam reached out to grab your wrist, bringing the soaked digits up to his lips, before licking the sticky substance off each individual finger. His eyes were heavy as he looked down to catch your lustful gaze, watching him suck each of your fingers clean. Your hips bucked eagerly at the site of him tasting your nectar so casually, “Please please Teyam, give me your cock, I wanna feel deep you can go” you moan, as your unsullied hand moved to grope the large bulge threatened to rip through from his loincloth. 

Neteyam chuckled down at you with heavy eyes, “You really are in heat huh? We’ll get to that darling, just be patient.” He mused releasing your wrist from his grasp, leaning forward to shadow over your form. Drawing his hand between your legs, his finger teasingly graze your folds, invoking another needy buck of your hips, desperate to insert his fingers into your empty cunt. “Fu-fuck..N-Neteyam please I can’t take it anymore” you whine wrapping your arms around to claw at his backside. Neteyam let out a shaky groan, smirking at your vulnerable state, “You want it that bad tìyawn? Open that pretty mouth of yours” Neteyam purrs licking his lips hungrily. You obediently part your lips, labored gasps breaking through your throat in anticipation before he spits directly into your mouth, simultaneously plunging two of his fingers into your aching pussy. “Swallow it yawne…” he purrs softly, having leaned down to whisper into your ear, the hairs on the back of your neck standing at the sensation of his hot breath tickling the sensitive nerves there. Again you follow his orders without hesitation, coaxing out another chuckle from the warrior, “So dirty… my dirty little syulang” with his wishes appeased, Neteyam drove his fingers deeper into your heat, massaging your clit with his thumb in firm circles, as his fingers curled themselves inside you. You threw your head back, moaning out in ecstasy, continuing to buck yourself against his fingers, trying to drive them deeper into your cunt to fill the void that remained dormant there, “M-more more!” You whine, tears cascading down your cheeks as the fire burned deeper into your core.

Sitting back on the balls of his feet with a groan, Neteyam one-handedly removed his loincloth, removing his fingers from your core to drag the sleek cum up and down his shaft, “Is this what you want, yawntutsyìp?” He growled slapping his cock against your clit, causing your body to jolt with each hit.  Nodding rapidly you scoot yourself closer to his hips, grabbing onto his cock trying to insert it yourself, mewling when you feel his tip begin to poke your opening. “Schhhhhtt easy- easy baby…” Neteyam groans sucking in his breath, his body overly sensitive from the booze. With another shaky breath, Neteyam hooks your legs around his waist before slowly pushing his cock further into your pussy, “Oh! yes, yes, yes!” You scream, securing your legs around his hips, rocking your own against his, ensuring that your pussy takes the entirety of his length in one go, “Ah- fuck Y/N…” he choked out, leaning his forehead against yours urgently trying to catch his breath, in efforts to prolong his limit. Slowly reeling back his hips, Neteyam descends back in at an equally agonizing pace, continuing like that for what seems like eons, completely lost in the feeling of your pussy clenching and unclenching around him, the burn in your core zapping you with longing, “Fuck this..” you groan, shoving the intoxicated na’vi onto his back with a harsh push. Gazing up at you in astonishment, Neteyam watched as you straddle his hips, completely taking his cock into you in one swift movement, throwing your head back as his tip rests against your cervix, the two of you releasing synchronized moans. Neteyam’s hands immediately press into your hips holding you down against him, “Oh fuck yawne, such a needy little syulang… look at you trembling on top of me, taking my cock like this pussy was made for me...” Neteyam growled sending a harsh thrust into your cervix, “AHh fuck yes! Like that- please keep fucking me like that Teyam…” you beg, rocking your hips onto his cock. Neteyam released a hoarse chuckle sending a rapid array of strong thrusts into your core, nearly knocking you off balance in the process causing you to claw into his chest for stability.

The squelching noises that emitted from your drenched cunt became louder, mixing with that of pleasured moans and sighs from each respective party, echoing through the tent. Neteyam’s breath began to pick up, the growing bulge at the base of his cock becoming more eminent with each thrust poking the your entrance, only enticing you to grind hard down on his length, “Shit Y/N, easy- I could knot you if you aren’t c-careful.” Neteyam grunted trying to lift your hips off of his ever growing knot, “I want it!” You purr, “please give it to me Nete. Give me your knot, fill me up with your cum. Breed this pussy, it’s yours- just please..” your voice comes out strained and whiny as you near your orgasm, desperately fighting against his hold to take his knot into your aching cunt. Neteyam’s ears flatten against his head as lust takes over his mind once more, “fffuck… you’re trouble, yawne..” a growl rumbles deep within his chest, before digging his finger tips into your hips in a bruising grip, forcing his knot inside of you, you’re body jolting at the welcomed intrusion. Pleasured tears streamed down your face as your orgasm boils over and bursts, finally feeling the fullness you’ve been longing for. “Perfect…”you sigh, leaning your head against his, spent from the extinguished fire. The burning beginning to finally subside. Neteyam continued to hold your hips down on his knot, grinding circles into your pussy eager for his own release that was building up, “Mmm look at me, yawne… I want to see your face when I fill this pussy with my cum.” Neteyam groaned, leaning back to watch your face slowly morph into one of exotic bliss as he released his hot load into your womb. 

Officially exhausted, you collapse onto Neteyam’s chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist. The two of you heaving to catch your breathes. Your brain finally becoming silent for the first time of the night, you nuzzle into Neteyam’s hold, tracing the dark stripes along his arm. The thought than dawned on you, pulling your kuru forward looking to Neteyam, only to find him passed out in a deep sleep. With a small sigh you release your braid, giving the mighty warrior a small peck on the tip of his nose before adjusting to snuggle into his embrace.

___________________________

Waking up to the sun’s rays breaking through the thin open seams of the tent Neteyam groaned, as the pounding of his head set into his conscious state. Becoming more a-tune to his surroundings Neteyam noticed the weight on his chest, his heart dropping when his eyes drop on your sleeping form, strands of hair stuck to your face from dried sweat. Anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach, Neteyam shifted his hips slightly, confirming his fear of being firmly lodged inside your cunt, his knot having finally gone down, “Fuck…” Neteyam groaned under his breath annoyed, more so at himself than anything. How could he let himself get in this situation? He wrecked his brain trying to remember the events of the previous night, the only thing he could remember was stumbling as he made his way up hometree to find you. His heart stopped feeling you stir on top of him, letting out a soft yawn before opening your eyes, gazing up at him lovingly. Upon letting your eyes focus, you realized Neteyam was not returning your soft gaze, instead his jaw was tight and his brows pinched, “What happened?” Neteyam spoke sharply and directly. You sighed laying your head back down on his chest, tracing the thin stripe across his pec, not awake enough to deal with his direct line of harsh questioning, “What do you think happen?” You hummed, shifting your hips against his softened planted cock, causing Neteyam to grunt, grasping your hip to quickly halt your movements, “How” he glowered, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment. You let out another sigh, pangs of hurt and guilt mixing together in your chest. You hadn’t meant for him to catch you in the midst of your heat, and you definitely didn’t account for the fact that he wouldn’t remember the following morning, “You walked in on me during my heat cycle… clearly drunk, yet you didn’t leave, and now we are here. That about sum up what you wanted to hear?” It was your turn to scowl at him, pushing his hands from your hips to rise off of his form, allowing his cock to fall with a slap onto his abdomen. 

As you bent down to pick up a clean loincloth, a rough hand quickly caught your arm, “Did we mate? Did we make tsaheylu?” Neteyam spat, holding your gaze. You merely rolled your eyes, the hurt in your chest manifesting, “No. We, did not” you shoot back, yanking your arm out of his grasp, before sliding your loincloth over your hips, securing the strings around your tail. Neteyam seemed to relax a bit, until the itch in the back of his mind craved another answer, “but I knotted you” He spoke not so much as a question, already knowing the answer. Looking at him from over your shoulder, now fastening a clean top over your breast, you huff shaking your head in disbelief, “You did.” Was all you gave him. Neteyam, giving an annoyed hiss he drew his kuru from behind his head, bringing it to his front, waiting for you to do the same. You turned to face him fully, eyeing Neteyam up and down as if confused at his actions. “Let us finish it” he stated, his voice still ringing in agitation. “Finish it?” You questioned cocking your head to the side, while crossing your arms, “We are meant to be a mated pair for the sake of our people, if you are carrying my child it is best we get this over with and fulfill our duties”. The words stung more than you thought they would, hissing at his suggestion in response, “Get this over with?”. Approaching him slowly you prod his chest with an accusatory finger, your features darkening, “Ha.. you are a funny man, Neteyam te Suli, to think that I would mate with someone who does not want me… and you’ve made that plenty clear.” you hiss pushing your way past him, making your way out of your tent, leaving Neteyam dumbfounded in your wake.

You guys don't understand how horned up I was over this prompt all day, just itching to write it while I was at work. I hope you all enjoy this! Take this smut as my peace offering before traumatizing you with chapt 5 of ASSDWD. I hope to make good progress on it this week, I can't promise it will be finished, but keep on the look out for updates!

Tag-List&lt;;3 @tiredmamaissy

@jakexneytiri

@neytris

@jake-sullys-whore

@live-laugh-neteyam

@zynn4

@eywascall

@christinechickiee

@fanboyluvr

@afro-hispwriter

@iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic

@bigdikzaddy

@aonungsmate

@pandorxxx

@arminsgfloll

@netemoon

@innixyly

@im-in-a-pansexual-panik

@blackchim3ra

@crazy4books1

@neteyamforlife

@bajadotcom

@kiri-tuk

@samiiistarss

[buckyalpine]

Drunk Bucky wants uppies

Fluffy crack drabble. Bucky wants uppies.

He's drank the teams entire body weight in alcohol and he's never felt happier. His flushed cheeks almost hurt from the dopey grin he has on his face. He keeps giggling to and snickering to himself, twirling around the straw of a pink fruity drink, deciding it doesn't count as alcohol when it looks so pretty. He's basically drinking water, just as Steve instructed.

After a few more glasses of his spicy water, he stands up and immediately lands face flat onto the floor with a muffled -oof

His current state is more amusing than concerning; Steve and Sam howl with laugher at the super soldier who is currently making no effort to get up.

"You good tin man?"

"wanupy" His voice is muffled, mumbling something with his face still pressed to the soft carpet of the compound living room while you go over to kneel beside him to see how he's doing.

"What is it Buck" You whisper, carding your fingers through his soft locks, smiling at the way he hums, rolling around to flop on his back instead.

"Uppies" He looks at you with outstretched grabby hands, puppy eyes wide, hoping you'd scoop him right up and take him to his room. Never mind that he's over a foot taller and probably double your weight, he wants to be carried right now.

"Uppies?"

"Uppies" He nods with confidence, blinking and waiting patiently to be picked up while you giggle.

"Did he just say uppies?" Sam stares and Steve before looking back at the 6ft+ man acting like a baby on the floor. "The former Winter Soldier, scary assassin, the man that threw me off the edge of a building just said he wants uppies?"

"Yes. Yes he did" Steve ran a hand over his face, debating on helping or watching this play out. He decided on the latter.

"I can't carry you Buck, you're too heavy" You coo, running your finger over his pouty lips pulled into a frown.

"M'not heavy" Bucky huffed in offence, throwing an adorable tantrum, refusing to move. In all fairness, at this point he wasn't able to get up himself anyway. "Uppies please"

"Alright, c'mon punk" Steve snorted, getting up from the stool he was sitting at along with Sam, both men picking Bucky off the floor and walking towards the elevator.

"Fuckin' uppies, how much do you weigh" Sam grunted while Bucky let out a sleepy yawn, his head resting on Steve's shoulder. Both men waited for you to open the door before helping him into bed.

"Wan cuddles" Bucky mumbled, reaching out for you to join him with his best pout.

"Okay I'm out, cuddles is where I draw the line" Sam playfully pushed you into Bucky's outstretched arms while Steve threw you a wink, both men softly closing the door behind them leaving you two alone.

"You want cuddles?" You whispered, squeaking when Bucky flipped you onto your back with ease, deciding to use you like a human pillow.

"Cuddles" He nodded, quickly falling asleep afterwards, blissfully unaware that Sam would never let him live this moment down.

[saleeba]

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off. 

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person. 

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad. 

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends. 

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for. 

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.” 

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it. 

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words. 

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though. 

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other. 

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel. 

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests. 

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again. 

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude 

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late. 

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole  – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry. 

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head. 

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home. 

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up. 

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision. 

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs. 

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now. 

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely. 

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy. 

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s. 

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.” 

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release. 

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,” 

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste. 

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once. 

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions. 

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones. 

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.  

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail. 

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.