#just give the man a bubble bath

[dawnstarranger]

I get that the little make over scene is for the sake of Cattie-Brie learning to be okay with being more than just a warrior and all of that, but I really think it would have been nice if Wulfgar got a make over, too. Give this man a flower crown and some fancy clothes. Put the barbie back in barbarian. Let his inner Swedish supermodel shine through. He’s been through a lot and he deserves it is all I’m saying

[strang3lov3]

Seeing Red

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)

Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too

I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚

You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.

“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 

You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”

“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 

Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 

“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 

 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 

Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 

“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.

“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 

He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 

You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want this,” you grouse.

“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 

Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”

“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 

“I said yes,” you snap. 

Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”

“Just okay.” 

‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 

Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 

-

He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”

“Mmm, no.” 

Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 

Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 

-

“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 

“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 

“What’re you talkin’ about?” 

“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 

Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”

“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 

Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 

“The other one.” 

You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 

So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”

“JESUS,” you yell at him. 

“What?”

“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 

 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 

“No. It was burning me.” 

“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 

You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 

“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 

“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 

“You can ask, you know.” 

But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”

“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 

“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”

“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 

“Yes.” 

He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 

“It’s not your business.”

 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 

“I don’t want to,” you whine. 

“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 

“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 

“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 

You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 

“All of it.” 

You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 

“Yeah. I see that.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.

“Right.” 

“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 

“Somewhere else.” 

“Right. Somewhere else.” 

He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 

“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”

Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 

“Yes.” 

Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 

“Good.”

Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 

Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 

-

My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 

“Joel.” 

No answer. 

“JOELLLL,” you yell. 

Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 

He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”

You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”

“Hm,” he hums.

“What’s hm?” 

“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”

“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 

Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”

“Try what again?” 

You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 

“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.

“Yeah, but-” you begin.

Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”

He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.

Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 

It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.

“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”

You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 

He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 

There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 

“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 

He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 

“Where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 

 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper. 

“Exactly.” 

Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 

You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 

“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”

“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”

“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”

“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 

“Figures.”

Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 

Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 

He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 

“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 

Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.

“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”

“Joel, I– ”

“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 

 You obey his rule and nod, yes.

He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

Yes. You nod again. Quiet.

“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”

With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 

With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 

He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…

“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 

“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 

With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 

And fucks you, and fucks you. 

And keeps fucking you. 

It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 

This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.

 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 

It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 

“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 

“I’m - I’m–”

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”

 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 

He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”

“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”

“I don’t think I can, Joel…”

“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 

That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”

You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.

He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 

Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 

“Super, yeah. Sore.” 

“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 

If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷

Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.

[yaymiyas]

THE HUSBAND

warning: female reader, saer being….saer, yan!isekai!crown prince

a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯

the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.

in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.

“now, saer..”

gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—

“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”

slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.

“im finished with my breakfast”

the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?

“madam,”

lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?

“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”

[tender-rosiey]

i need more dad!gojo pls 😔🙏🏼

sulking — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: there was an anon that requested this scenario specifically but for some reason I genuinely can't find their ask so anon if you see this, i hope you will like it! <3

“s/n! get your tiny naked butt over here!”

your son squeals as he waddles away from his chasing dad and goes towards you, “mama!”

“yes, honey?” you reply, before turning towards your son and finding him all naked. at least, he didn’t escape from the tub, since he is still dry.

you giggle and pick him up, “what are you doing you little trouble maker?”

he kicks his feet and points upstairs, “pa!”

“oh, you’re escaping from papa?”

your son nods eagerly, looking around for any sign of said man.

“found you!”

your son squeals and hides his face in the crook of your neck. you pet his hair and look towards your husband who is…also butt-naked. you sigh, “satoru, at least wear your boxers before you chase the kid.”

“aw come on, wifey; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smirks, leaning towards you and lovingly kissing your cheek, “plus you deserve a show every once in a while.”

you pinch his nose, making him abruptly pull back with a pout, “if you want to give me a show, don’t do it in front of our son, you over-grown pack of hershey’s.”

“do you mean the cookies and cream one?” satoru says, eyes shining at the mention of one of his favorite snacks.

“yes, and I hate it.”

he gasps audibly, before taking s/n from your arms and into his own, “let’s go, s/n! we shall not tolerate mom’s slander for the hershey’s again!”

and so your husband marches back with his (still butt-naked) son to the bathroom.

satoru sets s/n on the sink, and looks down at the tub, “hey, at least the bathtub is full now,” he puts his hand in the water, “and it isn’t too cold for your small butt.”

s/n gives satoru his angriest look, before looking away with a huff.

satoru chuckles before tickling him, “you’re so cute,” s/n breaks character and starts giggling, and satoru starts cooing, “you act like your mama when I annoy her.”

satoru swiftly picks him up in one arm and points at the stash of bath bombs, “which one do you want to use?” he walks towards the box, and s/n instantly holds it with his strong hands.

satoru laughs, “oh you want all?”

s/n doesn’t respond. instead, he aggressively pulls the box towards him, luckily, satoru is able to hold it in his other hand before it fell.

he looks at his son with a pout, “you were going to create a mess, little guy.”

“mess!” your son claps and your husband can’t find it in him to scold him.

so your husband joins in on his chaos and raises him up high, “yes, big mess!”

your son squeals, reaching for his dad’s cheeks. then he starts rubbing his face on satoru’s the moment he is low enough to reach him.

he starts biting satoru’s cheeks and screams, “love you, baby!”

“love you too, my little buttered cookie,” satoru coos, unfazed by the baby eating him alive. he doesn’t let him linger though as he pulls him off his face, “time for a bath, stinky.”

s/n frowns and tries smacking satoru, but your husband quickly gets into the bath. the moment s/n touched the water, he started clapping and trying to dive deeper into the water.

satoru held him just above the water so he doesn’t fall into the bathbomb-filled water, “nuh-uh, you’re not going to fall face first into the water,” satoru spins s/n so he can settle him into the bath butt-first.

s/n wastes no time in playing with the soap foam and starts splashing everywhere.

your son is sat on the stair of the bathtub—a huge bathtub by the way, satoru specifically ordered this one for other activities though. s/n is beyond the moon and almost treats the little stair like his throne.

your husband can’t stop smiling, to the point his face starts aching, and he starts using the bubbles to form two little cat ears on s/n’s head.

your son’s curiously keeps trying to look up, but starts huffing when he can’t see the top of his head.

satoru then decides that the best solution is—“y/nnnnn! can you come over here with a camera?”

“okayyyy!” he hears you yell and shifts his attention to s/n to keep him entertained until you appear.

he leans down a little, exposing the top of his own head to his son and challenges him, “do your worst.”

your son’s—clearly inherited—competitive nature fuels him into gathering as much as bubbles as he can to place it on his dad’s head.

after that, he starts diligently molding the foam into the shape he had in mind. satoru just keeps on humming quietly, letting s/n do his magic.

once s/n finishes, he retracts his hand and clumsily mimics his dad’s proud pose, and satoru feels happier and happier as he spends time of his little ball of joy.

caught up in his emotions, he picks up s/n to hug him, but s/n slips from satoru’s grasp and into the water.

your husband is panicked right away, hands frantically searching and splashing around to get hold onto anything of his son.

he has half a mind to blast all the water away, but quickly decides against it, especially when he hears a “boo!” behind him.

your husband turns to s/n, who is giggling at finally getting to his father, and hugs him tightly, “papa’s sorry he dropped you, s/n.”

s/n, ever the empath, starts imitating what he see you and satoru do when the other is sad: he starts patting his dad’s back with a murmur of “’s ‘kay.”

satoru thinks he is going to sob right then and there, but you finally enter the bathroom, and satoru and s/n quickly perk up at your presence.

“mama!”

“wifey!” satoru grins and starts scrambling to make a new pair of cat ears on s/n.

and so you’re met with one of the cutest sights of your baby that you have ever seen. he is beaming with a smile so contagious that you don’t even notice one being instantly on your face.

he is also sporting a pair of bubble cat ears, so, of course, you get out your phone and start snapping away.

“s/n, look at mama!”

“yay!”

after a couple of photos, you hear someone clear his throat, and you look to your side to see a very pouty satoru. he huffs and looks away from you, “imagine ignoring the love of your life for a small mochi.”

“we made this small mochi, ‘toru.”

“exactly!” he declares then locks eyes with you, “that means I am the original and I should be appreciated more, anyway—what do you think of his cat ears?”

your husband’s tone switches almost instantly and starts fangirling about s/n, taking him into his arms and lightly bouncing him on knee, “he is so cute! almost as cute as me, right?!”

“you’re so right! he is the cutest cutie to ever exist!” you coo, arms reaching out to s/n, and your son throws himself into your arms with no hesitation.

you secure in your hold before chuckling, “you’re mama’s cute boy, right?”

you feel satoru stare daggers at your soul, but ignore him for the time being, “did you actually shower or do anything to clean, s/n? you smell stinky.”

your son frowns at that and buries his face in your shoulder to sulk. you stifle a giggle and question your husband about something that has been on your mind since you entered, “also, satoru—“

he perks up.

“—what is that blob of bubbles on your head supposed to be?”

and that, my friend, is how you got stuck in the bathtub with your two boys, each burying their face into your shoulders and—you guessed it—sulking.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[emisloves]

DESPERATE ✦ P.SH

pairing: bf!hoon x fem!reader

genre: established relationship au, explicit content (mdni)

warnings: lots of fluff in the beginning, making out, smut, dubcon/noncon, unprotected sex (a big no), pulling out (please just use protection instead), nicknames (baby, doll, slut, etc.), bondage (handcuffs), oral (f!rec), clit biting, fingering, oversensitiveness, multiple orgasms, cum eating, creampie, clit pinching, pussy slapping, backshots, doggy (yes backshots and doggy aren't the same), reverse cowgirl, mating press, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, passing out, basic aftercare, mentions of further aftercare, let me know if i missed any!

word count: 4.3k

The benefits of having Sunghoon as a bf were many, the most prominent one being that he wasn’t very demanding.

Most of your previous boyfriends always wanted something or the other. Whether it be sex or simply your attention, they needed it. All the time.

Sunghoon on the other hand? He didn’t pester you for either. At least not often.

The two of you first met at a party that had been hosted by a mutual friend of you both. Both of you had been drinking in a random corner by yourselves, before he struck up conversation. Under the influence of alcohol, the simple conversation had escalated to something more, a passionate night filled with the interlocking of hands and lips, sweat and saliva mixing together, your bodies intertwining with each other’s. He had asked for your number the next day, asking you to hang out sometime. You agreed.

The hangout soon turned into a date, one date turning to two, and so on. Soon both of you were out of college, looking for jobs. The plus point of being excellent at academics was that it didn’t take both of you much time to land one.

Your jobs required you both to work nine to five, which neither of you minded since it was something both of you enjoyed doing.

The only problem? Both of you barely had time for each other.

Fights weren’t uncommon during the first month of both of your jobs, leading you both to sleep in separate rooms way too often. It was only after your boyfriend randomly surprised you with a date night on a weekend, both of you stopped fighting. Needless to say, that night was once again filled with the raw passion that was present when you guys first met. So yea, a big ‘fuck you’ to whoever said make up sex wasn’t good.

Sunghoon was a good boyfriend, really. He hardly ever bothered you, except for the occasional sex. Which, by the way, was valid, given that neither of you got to spend much time with each other, other than the times when you both got intimate. What is the problem then?

Well, there isn’t much of a problem exactly– other than the fact that you feel extremely fucking guilty.

It wasn’t exactly your fault that you couldn’t give your boyfriend enough of your time and attention. Your job required you to work overtime now-a-days, sometimes even having you work on weekends. You barely got time for yourself, always coming home late, too tired to even walk properly. It wasn’t your fault that you barely had any energy left in you, your simple ‘no’s always coming out breathy, that’s how tired you usually were.

Initially, he accepted it. He was super sweet about it too, massaging your shoulders and the expanse of your back, rubbing softly to loosen the knots in it. He would prepare a warm bath for you, filled to the brim with bubbles. He would cuddle you to sleep, pressing gentle kisses all over your face. He would even prepare breakfast for you, serving it in bed. 

Now? Now the situation is extremely different.

You see, despite being understanding of your tiredness, a man also has his needs. One can only hold out for so long. Any man is bound to get tired of the constant rejection of intimacy with their lover. And Sunghoon is also a man at the end of the day.

If the same thing continued, he would have no choice but to seek intimacy elsewhere.

But Sunghoon loved you too much for that.

It was around 12:51 am on a Wednesday, you had just arrived home. The house was– extremely quiet. That’s strange. Sunghoon usually came to greet you when you came home, taking your bag out of your hand and slipping the coat off your shoulder. Where was he?

As if hearing your thoughts, your boyfriend came out of the direction of your shared bedroom. He smiled at you, quickly walking over and grabbing the bag out of your hand. He kissed the top of your head, slipping the coat off your shoulders and helping you take off your shoes. He held your waist, guiding you towards the bathroom. “I’m sorry for not greeting you immediately baby, I was preparing something for you.”

You looked at him with surprise, your tiredness momentarily forgotten. “A surprise?”

Sunghoon smiled at you. “Yes doll, a surprise. Go take a shower, then I’ll show it to you.”

You gave a small smile to him, nodding, entering the bathroom, having failed to notice the subtle smirk on his face.

You took your sweet time showering, making sure to feel as relaxed as possible, before going to bed. Once you were done, you wrapped a bathrobe around yourself, using a towel to dry your hair as much as possible, before walking out of the bathroom.

Surprisingly, Sunghoon was waiting for you outside. He smiled at you, before extending his arm towards you. Although you were a little confused by his actions, you extended your arm towards him as well, holding his hand. He pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist, before kissing your forehead. He then kissed your nose, your cheeks, and finally your lips. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, before breaking the kiss gently. You stared at his eyes, smiling softly. “What’s with the sudden affection?”

Your boyfriend nudged your nose with his own. “Nothing, I just missed you.”

You laughed softly. “Missed me? But you saw me this morning itself.”

He pouted slightly. “That isn’t enough. I need you by my side 24/7 darling.”

You smiled, pecking his lips. “Well, you have me now, all to yourself, don’t you?”

He nodded, smiling. “That I do. Come to our bedroom baby, let me show you the surprise I told you about.”

Your breath caught in your throat, once Sunghoon took his hands off your eyes. You had never seen your bedroom look anything like– like this.

There were rose petals randomly strewn all across the floor, the lights turned off. The only source of light being the innumerous scented candles all around the room. Your shared bed had a large heart of rose petals in the middle of it, with petals of white roses spelling out ‘I love you’ inside the heart. It was the most romantic gesture your boyfriend had ever done.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing his lips next to your ear. “Do you like it baby?”

You turned your face to the side, quickly pecking him on the lips. “I love it. So very much.”

He smiled, nuzzling his face into your neck, before planting soft kisses all over it. “Let me take care of you baby.”

You bit your lip. It's not that you don't appreciate his efforts to have an intimate time with you, it's just that you didn't have the energy for that. You could already feel your eyelids starting to droop from the tiredness, your legs were sore from walking. All you wanted right now was to cuddle in your lover’s arms and fall asleep. “I'm sorry baby, I'm really tired right now. Can we just cuddle instead?”

For the second time this night, Sunghoon surprised you. Usually, when you denied him, he would immediately relent and take you to bed, spooning you and cuddling with you, making sure that you get a good night's sleep. Today however, he simply wrapped his arms around your waist tighter, his soft kisses on your neck becoming wetter and hotter, open mouthed kisses, ones that had you stifling a moan. “You say that everyday baby.”

You gulped, trying hard to swallow down the moans that were induced by his unrelenting assault on your neck, barely able to utter a word. “I– I know babe– but I'm just r– really tired–”

He ignored your words, biting down on your neck and sucking it harshly, trying to leave as many hickies as possible. You were unbelievably tired, but that didn't mean his actions weren't making you feel good. But you couldn’t let him know that, or he would take it as a sign to continue.

“H– Hoonie please, I’m so tired–”

With one swift motion, your boyfriend undid your bathrobe, quickly spinning you around and smashing his lips on yours, muffling your gasp. He ignored the way you tried to hit his shoulders to push him off, holding the back of your head in one hand to push your face towards him, trying to deepen the kiss. He held your waist tightly in the other, his thumb kneading the flesh there.

Sunghoon brought both of his hands down to your hips, lifting you, forcing you to wrap both your arms and legs around him. He quickly carried you to the bed, setting you down on it. Without breaking the kiss, he leaned your body back slightly, using one hand to roughly shove the beautiful heart that he had spent hours making, using a bunch of red and white roses, away, out of the way. He pushed you down onto the bed, quickly using his hands to tightly pin your own protesting ones above your head. He used his knees to shove your legs apart, settling down in between them.

You continued to protest weakly, your body too tired to handle him. It was starting to frustrate him with how much you were struggling against his hold. He briefly broke the kiss to glare down at you. “Why won’t you keep still? I told you I would take care of you, didn’t I? Why are you making this difficult for the both of us?”

Your eyes were glazed with unshed tears, your entire body sore from how hard you had been working the entire day, and how much you had been struggling against him for the past few minutes. “I’m too tired for this baby– can’t we please do it some other time?”

He rolled his eyes, before snapping at you. “Too tired? Isn’t that what you have been saying for the past two months? I have waited a long time for you, haven’t I? How long do you plan on leaving me like this? Do I not have needs? If you won’t satisfy them, who else will?”

Your lower lip trembled from his harsh tone, trying your hardest to not break down. You replied in a shaky voice. “Baby, you have to understand that my job has been extremely demanding for the past two months– it’s hard for me to not be tired, my love–”

Your boyfriend had enough of your excuses, quickly leaning towards the nightstand, fumbling about in the drawer. He produced a pair of handcuffs from it, causing your eyes to widen, your struggle against him increasing.

But tonight there was no escape for you. Sunghoon was desperate to be close with you today, causing him to quickly cuff your hands to the bed posts. Your tears had broken free, as you desperately tried to break free from the cuffs, pleading with him desperately to spare you for the night.

Your boyfriend held your hips down tightly, preventing you from moving too much. He once again smashed his lips on yours, silencing your pleas.

His kisses traveled south, leaving hickeys all over your jaw, neck, shoulders– trailing down to your chest and stomach. His lips ghosted over your pussy, blowing air on it, causing you to whimper and clench around nothing.

Your struggle against him increased two-fold, causing him to hold your hips down with both hands. He kissed your inner thighs, before biting them, harshly sucking the bitten area to leave more hickeys, before finally deciding to give attention to your pussy. Even if he desperately wanted to fuck you into the next week, he still loved and cared about you, and wanted to make you feel better, despite his actions suggesting otherwise.

He kissed your folds, before licking a stripe upwards, causing a whine to escape you. He smirked, before repeating his actions. “I thought you didn't want this, princess? Why are you so wet?”

More slick gushed out of your exposed hole at his words, your pussy clenching around nothing. You gave up on fighting back, realizing it was of no use right now. Sunghoon chuckled, realizing your resignation, the sound vibrating through your cunt. He circled your clit with his tongue, causing you to whine, trying to close your legs. He held your legs down tightly with both hands, preventing you from moving too much.

Without warning, he harshly bit your clit, causing a choked scream to escape you. The scream turned into whimpers and moans, as he flattened his tongue over your clit, before sucking it. He gave your clit a kiss, before sucking over your slit, slurping down the slick like his favorite drink. You whined at the loud, wet, lewd slurping noises that were filling up the room, your boyfriend paying no attention to your sounds.

Abruptly, he thrust his tongue inside, causing you to cry out. He kept thrusting his tongue as deep inside as he could reach, causing loud moans to escape you, filling up the entire room.

He kept alternating between sucking your clit and thrusting his tongue inside your hole, as if unable to decide which one to give more attention to. His dilemma however, was quickly solved, once he shoved two digits inside your cunt, his long and slender fingers dragging across your walls, giving attention to every nook and cranny of your pussy. Your moans increased, spurring him on greatly.

You could feel the band in your stomach tighten, signaling your impending orgasm. Sunghoon could tell you were close, judging by the change of pitch of your voice. The speed of his movements increased two-fold, his fingers curling up every time to hit your spot, causing you to see stars.

With one final cry of his name, you came undone, cumming all over his fingers and the lower half of his face. He came up, giving you the perfect view of his drenched face, causing heat to creep up your neck. He leaned upwards to engage you in a messy lip lock, exchanging saliva with you, the taste of your slick prominent in his mouth. He broke the kiss. “Feel any better, doll?”

You exhaled, your chest rising up and down as you took slow and steady breaths. Even if you were tired beyond comprehension, you couldn't deny that he made you extremely good, way better than how you usually felt at night. “I do. Thanks to you.”

Now, don't get him wrong, your boyfriend was extremely happy he could make you feel slightly better. But clearly, he could do way better, since you were still able to form a comprehensive sentence. Which is why, he immediately got to work to make you feel even better.

Sunghoon went down again, once again attaching his lips on your pussy. You cried out, whimpering and thrashing around from the oversensitiveness. Once again, he held you down by your legs to prevent you from moving too much. He harshly sucked on your clit, quickly thrusting three fingers deep inside your pussy. He slowly, deliberately dragged his fingers across your walls, making you whimper and thrash in his hold, the sensations starting to completely fog your brain.

He flicked your clit with his tongue, before swirling it around the bundle of nerves. He curled his fingers, hitting your spot, causing you to cry out. He increased his pace, thrusting his fingers in and out quickly, curling them every time to hit your g-spot. The band in your stomach tightened once again, your vision starting to blur. The band finally snapped, causing you to arch your back, your head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream. Your orgasm crashed over you, your boyfriend quickly slurping up everything, not letting a single drop go to waste.

He leaned up, looking at your face. Your pupils were blown out, eyes hooded, your chest heaving slightly, as you tried to catch your breath. The sight of you lying there in that state was his last straw, as he quickly leaned down to engage you in a messy lip lock. Without breaking the kiss, he made quick work of his shirt, unbuttoning it and throwing it somewhere in the room. He did the same with his pants, before breaking the kiss.

Your boyfriend reached out above your head, uncuffing your hands. Sensing no struggle from your side, he placed a small peck on your lips, before manhandling you onto your stomach. You could barely balance yourself, your entire body, especially your legs feeling extremely sore. Sunghoon grabbed your hips, pulling your ass up. He spread your legs apart, holding your hips tightly. He aligned himself with your entrance, his cock standing tall and angry, his tip a violent red, leaking with precum. He slowly pushed his tip inside, both of you moaning in unison, before he buried his entire length to the hilt, bottoming out.

Sunghoon swore that he was in heaven. A month without your pussy was pure torture, his hand was nothing compared to your beautiful cunt. The way your pussy was sucking him in right now? He was damn sure you missed him the same way he missed you, or at least your pussy did.

He pulled out almost completely, leaving only the tip inside, before slamming his entire length inside, his balls slapping against your clit. You whimpered at the sensation, your head buried into the pillows, the sound coming out muffled. He kept repeating the same process, making sure to drag his cock against your walls, the tip repeatedly hitting your cervix. Your whines turned into mewls, as you tried to fuck yourself back onto his length. Your boyfriend chuckled at the sight, giving your ass a nice slap, watching it jiggle. He repeatedly smacked your ass, watching it jiggle and turn red. His spanking turned you on even more if possible, your back arching, slick starting to seep around his cock and make a wet puddle underneath them, onto the sheets. He gave your ass one last spank, before leaning towards you, his chest almost pressed to your back. He whispered in your ear. “Getting wet from a few spanks, baby? Didn't know you were this much of a whore. Making such a big mess on the sheets…”

You whined, your sweet little cunt clenching around his length deliciously, causing a groan to escape him. He gritted his teeth, before leaning back up. He gripped your hips tightly, before pistoning his hips into yours without mercy, giving you barely anytime to adjust properly. Not that you needed it, he thought, with the amount of slick that was gushing around his length.

His heavy balls continued to smack against your clit with every thrust, stimulating it. You whined, pushing your ass towards him slightly, trying to get more pressure on your clit. He noticed what you were trying to do, bringing a hand down to your clit, harshly rubbing it. You let out a choked gasp at the sudden pleasure, your mind starting to cloud from the overwhelming sensation. The way his cock kept drilling into your pussy, hitting your cervix every time, along with the way he was rubbing your clit, your orgasm wasn't going to take very long.

For the third time that night, a familiar sensation built up in your stomach, causing you to clench around him tightly. Before you could warn him, you had already come all around his length, causing a white ring to form around his base. Your boyfriend groaned at the sight, fastening his pace. Once he felt his orgasm starting to near, he spoke hurriedly. “I'm near baby– Where do you want it?”

Your mind was starting to go into overdrive, but you still heard him somehow. In a shaky voice, you answered. “I-Inside–”

He groaned, before quickly pulling out, causing you to cry out at the empty feeling. He ignored you, using his hand to jerk off, before spilling his load all over your ass cheeks. He put both hands on the side of your hips, using his thumbs to spread his cum over all your ass, admiring it. He landed a slap on it. “Stupid slut, did you really think your pussy deserves my cum? After you made me wait for two whole months?”

You whimpered, the degradation going straight to your cunt, causing you to clench around nothing, a sight that did not go unnoticed by him. He landed another slap on your ass. “Such a whore, of course you get turned on by this.”

You let out a muffled whine, clenching your thighs. He bit back a groan, his cock still very much hard and leaking. He grabbed your hips, pulling your ass up again, once again aligning himself with your entrance. He pushed inside, immediately bottoming out. He gave you no time to adjust, immediately slamming his hips into yours, cockhead repeatedly brushing against your cervix. His grip on your hips was so tight, it was surely going to leave bruises, but neither of you cared about that. Not when he felt so good inside you, repeatedly hitting that spongy part of your walls, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He suddenly wrapped a hand around your waist, pulling your body upright, your back flush against his chest. The new position gave him a better angle, cock almost bruising your cervix with the amount of force that he was using to drill into your pussy. His other hand reached down to your clit, pinching and rubbing it, rolling the hardened nub in his fingers. Your moans turned into pleasure filled screams, as he slapped your pussy multiple times. With one last slap, you spilled all over him once again, a white ring forming on the base of his cock.

Your orgasm triggered his own, as he sheathed himself deep inside you, shooting rope after rope of hot cum inside your awaiting pussy, making you moan at the sensation. He kept chanting curses, before he finally stopped cumming.

Your boyfriend slowly pulled out, watching the mixture of both of your cums dripping out of your pussy, into the sheets. He groaned at the sight. “Look at you baby, such a pretty little cum dump for me.”

Your face was shoved into the pillows, your brain not registering his words, as you tried to catch your breath. He slowly turned you around, looking at your fucked out face. He scooped the cum that was dripping out of your pussy, pushing it back in, causing a weak whine of protest coming from you, as you felt too sensitive.

He ignored you, focusing on trying to keep the cum inside. It was useless, the sticky amalgamation continuing to drip out. Frustrated, he grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him. He once again aligned himself with your entrance, using his cock to try and fuck the cum back inside. Your legs twitched a bit in protest, but it soon died down because of how firmly he held your legs down.

He increased his pace, balls smacking against your ass with each thrust, his mind solely focused on pushing the cum back in. He picked up your leg, throwing it over his shoulder, before doing the same with the other. The new angle allowed him to hit deeper, his cock drilling deep inside your pussy, fucking the cum inside. He nearly folded your body in half, cockhead almost piercing through your cervix, pushing the cum impossibly inside, into your womb. You whimpered at the feeling, both your body and voice too sore to protest.

He groaned at your state, picking up his pace. He felt a little too good, no longer caring about your comfort anymore. He kept blabbering to you, his words ranging from sweet nothings to the most vulgar nonsense.

“Looking so cute like this, taking me like a good little slut–”

“My personal cocksleeve, made to be mine and mine only–”

“God you're so beautiful– taking me so well–”

“Gonna knock this slutty pussy up, gonna make sure everyone knows you're mine–”

“Would look so pretty carrying my babies– gonna wife you up too–”

His words caused your brain to short circuit. Your back arched, your mouth open in a silent moan. Your mind turned foggy, vision going white, ears ringing loudly, as a familiar, yet unfamiliar sensation built up in your stomach. Your orgasm crashed over you in tidal waves. You didn't stop cumming, your squirt splashing all over his thighs and abdomen.

He groaned at the sight, his own orgasm getting triggered by yours. He sheathed himself deep inside your pussy, head thrown back, jaw going lax. He kept on shooting load after load of cum inside you. He didn't think he ever came that much, your pussy milking him for all he was worth.

He kept coming till he was spent. He pulled out, his cock starting to physically hurt from how sensitive it was. He laid down beside you, chest heaving in exertion.

Your mind kept flickering between being conscious and then unconscious. In your hazy state, you felt Sunghoon wipe your pussy and the rest of your body with wet tissues, before you felt him whisper a faint ‘We should take a bath.’

You felt him pick you up, bridal style, before your vision went completely black.

[babybluebex]

needs and wants | eric aqpdo x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in the direct aftermath of the apocalypse, you meet a man who's worse for wear in just about every regard. even though you can't do too much to heal his injuries, it's possible that you can heal his heart. wc 10.6k (she's a doozy) 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: eric (a quiet place: day one, 2024) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: SPOILERS FOR AQPDO, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT THE FILM SPOILED!, mentions of death/general apocalypse things, panic attacks, mentions of suicidal thoughts/actions (if you know eric's backstory that ended up cut from the film, he talks ab it), far too much intimacy for what this is, smut (minors dni): p in v, tit sucking, condom use 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: umm... i have no excuse for this... other than i need eric on a carnal level lol. hope you enjoy!!

It was funny how your whole world could change in a single day. And it was supposed to be a good day too; you had racked up enough PTO to allow yourself a full day off of work, and you had plans. You were going to brunch with your girlies that you hadn’t seen since nursing school, you were going to rent a movie at home, watch rom-coms in your underwear— you looked forward to sleeping in, taking a bubble bath, going to sleep early. You only achieved one part of that: you hadn’t even received the mimosa pitcher you had ordered when you heard the noise outside, as loud as a rocket taking off on the street just outside the hip brunch place, and you had hardly turned to look out the window when your world fell apart. 

Silence became your norm. Fear overtook you at every turn, giving your hands a perpetual shake that you weren’t certain would ever wear off. You didn’t know too much psychological or neurological stuff— you were a trauma nurse, emergency room and ICU type stuff, you were more concerned with stopping the blood flow and stabilizing vitals than ever caring about the after-effects of shit— but you wondered if the shaking of your hands was forever part of you now. You were good under pressure, never scared, but whatever the fuck those creatures were out there had changed the makeup of your being in a single second. 

When the helicopters buzzed overhead, drawing the monsters toward them and away from the city, and they announced that boats were departing from a nearby dock, you knew you had to go. More than saving yourself, you knew some very hurt and very sick people would gather there. You were sure that FEMA people would be swarming the boats to take care of the sick and injured, but you didn’t know what else to do. Your brain went on a sort-of autopilot, and you did the only thing you could think to do: you followed the crowd out to the docks. 

You had never gone that long without talking. Your throat was so dry from debris and dust anyway that you weren’t even sure that you could talk. Your clothes were torn, various small injuries that weren’t anything some disinfectant and a Band-Aid couldn’t fix, along with a gash on your calf that you had determined would be fine for now but could definitely use some tending-to once on the boat, plus your shaky hands, but otherwise you were fine. When the windows shattered and the monsters invaded, your table had overturned from the force of the sonic blast, and your animal instincts kicked in, throwing yourself behind the table and barricading there. You were one of the lucky ones— you lived. Sure, glass cut up your knees and palms, and you couldn’t even breathe without worrying that your breaths would alert the monsters, but you had lived. That was more than some could say. 

You felt packed out like sardines on the boat. Standing room only, except for the few exceptions of the people who were hurt or passed out. You had meager belongings in your pockets, although you weren’t sure how helpful your dead cell phone or essentially-useless credit cards would be in a time like this, but at least you had your work badge in your purse when you went to brunch. You found someone who looked like they were in charge, dressed in all-grey, not a military uniform but not civilian clothes either, and you silently showed them your badge, declaring yourself as a trauma nurse at a hospital in Brooklyn, and you gestured around, trying to ask if there was anything you could do to help. The woman shook her head, but folded her hands in a sort of ‘thank-you’ gesture.

You managed to stand towards the back of the ship, against the railing, next to the ladder, and you flinched at the loud chug of the boat casting off from the dock. Surely the monsters heard that. Everybody around you seemed to hold a deep breath, anticipatory, awaiting the worst to come at your final moments of salvation, but thankfully the monsters weren’t concerned with you all— maybe you were too far out in the water and, if the announcements from the helicopters were to be believed, the monsters couldn’t swim, so they didn’t care too much about the boat. Or maybe, the sudden sound of glass shattering from the shore, followed by shrill car alarms, captured their attention better. 

You watched, horrified, as you spotted a woman racing down the street, hardly noticeable from the distance, but the sun glinted off of a silver metal pipe in her hand as she raised it in the air, and she smashed the window of the car next to her as she raced away. 

“Hell’s she doing…?” The man next to you mumbled, and you instinctively put your hand on his shoulder to silence him, even though there was no need. The world had changed in a day, habits had formed in 24 hours, and you wondered how long it would take to shake the new habits. You watched the woman flit between cars, trying to outpace the monsters as she smashed windows, but then something else caught your attention. On the dock, there was a man. Wearing a yellow sweater, carrying something that you couldn’t identify, running like his life depended on it towards the edge of the dock. And maybe it did; a few straggling monsters had started after him instead of the woman, and he had to have known as well as you did that the water was safe. 

Your heart rammed up into your throat as he ran, faster and faster, white sneakers hitting the metal dock, and he looked over his shoulder for a moment at the monster that was meters, feet, away from him, before he righted himself forward and hurtled himself off the edge of the dock. Everyone on the boat was watching now as he flew for a brief moment, suspended in the air as time stood still, and then plummeted into the water below. The monsters skidded to a halt at the edge of the dock, one curled claw extended out, a scrap of yellow cardigan stuck on its talon. 

By now, everyone had come to the same conclusion, and started to gather at the ladder onboarding right next to you— the man would need help coming aboard. You all watched anxiously as he surfaced from the water, frantically looking around and gulping air as he tried to keep his head above water and orient himself. Finally, he looked towards the boat, and you could have sworn that he looked at you instead of anybody else. He gained his senses quickly, starting to swim out towards the boat, and you caught sight of the little white whatever-it-was he was holding: a cat. The cat seemed safe and unharmed, definitely soggy but no worse for wear, and you crouched down, extending your arm down the ladder to meet him. 

You didn’t have the strength to help pull him aboard, but the man who had spoken next to you gently moved you, and he grasped the wet man’s arm and pulled him up the last few rungs of the ladder. He heaved breaths, his eyes all big and round as he took in his surroundings. Then, if you were unsure whether he was looking at you before or not, he extinguished any doubts you had this time around, because his eyeline landed on you. He was startled, hurt, traumatized— those wet eyes had seen some things, worse than you had seen. 

You helped him move away from the ladder and back towards a more secluded part of the boat, and the FEMA woman you had “talked” to before came to your side, a first aid kit in one hand and a heavy wool blanket in the other. 

“Sir?” you croaked. Jesus Christ, speaking really was a challenge. You cleared your throat, hoping that would improve things, and you said, “Sir, are you hurt?” 

He shook his head quickly, clutching the cat in his arms, and you spotted the gash on his shin. The leg of his pants was torn and shredded, and you could bet that the wound was pretty fresh. “You can speak,” you told him gently. “We’re safe here.” 

He looked at you, tears streaming down his face, and in a hushed voice, said, “How can you be so sure?” 

They said the boat ride would last through the day and you would arrive by nightfall, but FEMA assured you that the destination would be worth it. A little island, they said, off the northern coast of the state, that used to house a summer camp but was abandoned however long ago. The buildings there, houses, old camp cabins, would take some sprucing up, they told you, but it was safe, and it could turn into home. As night fell, factions were made, and people divided as best as possible— the vulnerable ones, the hurt ones, the kids, went to the inside part of the boat, and the healthy stayed outside, huddled under the wool blankets and trying to forget the cold November ocean air berating their faces. 

The yellow-cardiganed man was moved inside, and you moved through the small crowd in there, doing what you could to help. Passing out crackers and water bottles, winding gauze around bloody injuries, squeezing hands and offering small words of encouragement. It wasn’t a lot, but it felt good to help. 

Eventually, you couldn’t ignore your fatigue anymore, and you sat down on the floor against the back wall with a sigh. It was a low din inside there, so you felt relatively safe making a little bit of noise, and you sniffled and zipped open the inside pocket of your coat. The stuff you had stashed from your purse was in there, and you frowned down at your brick of a cell phone, the screen shattered. You cast it aside, then pulled out your wallet, rifling through it to see what went missing. Thankfully, your license was still there, so if anybody needed identification at any point, you had that covered; an old fast food gift card that you were sure still had money on it but was useless now; and an old paper movie ticket that you had saved with the intention of putting it in a scrapbook. Your heart panged with hurt, and you checked every other section of your wallet, but it was empty. 

Your house keys were certainly back on the floor of the restaurant, and you thought about the key to your mother’s house that lived on the ring. You hadn’t been able to contact her since the monsters came— the last thing you said to her was a text the morning of brunch, telling her to have a good day, and she had sent the classic mom :-) emoticon to you. Was she still alive? Had she managed to escape the monsters? Even though she didn’t live in the city, you wondered how far the monsters had traveled. Her neighbors were a family, with a high-school age son who played basketball and mowed your mother’s lawn; for your sanity, you chose to believe that they had taken her in (along with her prized African violets). 

A little noise came from in front of you, someone clearing their throat, and you looked up through your welling tears to see him. Damp yellow cardigan, wool blanket loose around his shoulders, curls wet and flat to his forehead. He stood still, watching you for a moment, before he spoke, a little louder than the first time but still a whisper. “Never caught your name,” he said. An accent. Not a native New Yorker. 

You told him with a shrug. Your eyes canvassed his frame, watching him shiver a little in what was probably an adrenaline rush, and your eyes landed on that nasty cut on his shin. It wasn’t actively bleeding, but still very red. It looked maybe a little inflamed, a tiny bit swollen, and you started to reach out for it, but stopped yourself. Your hands were filthy and, if infection was already setting in the way you suspected it was, whatever germs you had probably weren’t good for the wound. You withdrew your hand and settled in your lap, and you cleared your throat. “One of the FEMA people can help with that,” you told him, nodding towards his leg. “Bandages and anti-inflammatories and shit.” 

“Aren’t you a nurse?” the man asked, now his turn to nod at you. You had clipped your badge to the collar of your coat and, even though the plastic flower that had once surrounded the metal clip was shattered and long gone, the clip still served its purpose. 

“I am,” you said. “But I don’t have bandages.” You cracked a loose smile, and you winced at the bottle of water and pile of crackers next to you on the floor. “I’ve got crackers and water.” 

“I’m starving,” he told you, returning the small smile. “May I?” 

You nodded, and he worked himself down to the floor (he seemed to be favoring his left ankle a little, the same leg with the gash). He settled back against the wall, sighing heavily, and he took a pack of crackers into his hands and read the label for a moment. “‘Peanut butter’,” he read. “D’ya like these?” 

“They’re alright,” you said. “I used to buy the same ones, shove ‘em in my work bag to eat between patients. Kinda bland and gross, but they get the job done.” 

He nodded, and he tore the corner of the plastic sleeve and extracted a peanut butter cracker. “I used to like the ones with, erm, cream cheese and chives,” he said. “A quick snack at work. S’never what I wanted to eat, but sometimes I’d be at the office ‘til late, and at that point, take what you can get, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “What did you do?” 

“Lawyer,” he said, popping one of the crackers into his mouth. 

“Oh, shit,” you chuckled. “Yeah, you had some long nights… My sister’s husband is a paralegal, he used to tell me all about it.” 

“Cool,” he told you. “And you, Miss Nurse?”

“And me what?” you asked.

“What’s your husband do?” he asked. 

You laughed. You couldn’t help it. “I’d have to have one of those for him to have a job,” you said. “No, being a nurse is very, like… If you’re not married by the time you leave nursing school, all hope is lost. You won’t ever have any free time to go on dates or even think about that sorta stuff.” 

“Same with law school,” he told you. “All my mates were engaged or married when we graduated, and everyone always told me, ‘Oh, Eric, you’ll find the right girl! She’s out there somewhere’, and it’s like… If she’s not in my office building or on the subway home at 2AM, I’m not meeting her.” 

“You went to school around here?” you asked, and he (you assumed his name was Eric, based on his anecdote) nodded, then shrugged. 

“Cornell,” he said. “Then got hired at a firm in the city, and just… Never left.” 

“Well, that’s cool,” you said lightly. “I’m assuming you’re not from around here?”

He shook his head. “Kent,” he said. “About an hour out from London.”

“Wow,” you said softly. “That change must’ve been… A lot.”

Eric shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “It was alright, I suppose. At that time, I was sorta fighting with my dad all the time, really wanting to leave and go somewhere but he didn’t want that…” He trailed off, letting the conclusion form by itself. “Haven’t seen ‘em in-person since then. I always said I was busy, or it was too expensive, or… I was supposed to go back home at Christmas… My sister had a baby and I was supposed to meet him then…” He trailed off, obviously at a loss for what else to say, and you sighed.

“I’m sure they’re okay,” you told him, even though you yourself doubted it. “I mean, maybe the monsters are only here. They don’t like water; if they came from here, they can’t get over there.”

Eric nodded slowly. His eyes scanned the room, looking and listening, and he reached his hand out in front of him, making a small noise with his tongue against his teeth. You followed his gaze and found his cat, all furry with white and black spots, being adored and pet by a little boy sitting on a cot close by, and Eric tutted at the cat again. The cat turned their big dark eyes to their owner, and dutifully trotted over, snuggling in-between Eric’s criss-cross-applesauce legs.

“Who’s this?” you asked.

“Frodo,” Eric said, stroking the cat between his ears. Frodo began to purr, his eyes closing blissfully, and Eric said, “He was my friend’s, but she… She told me to take care of him.”

Your mind brought back the image of the woman running, distracting the monsters away from Eric. “Was that the one who…?” you started, and Eric nodded.

“He was her service animal,” he said. “She had cancer, he sort-of alerted her whenever her pain medication was going out… Also kept her company in hospice. He’s quiet, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Well, none of us have to worry about that,” you said, and Eric took in a breath. “Not anymore. Not with the island.”

“Right,” Eric sighed. “Almost forgot.”

“I’m worried I’ll never go back to normal,” you admitted. “Even just two days of thinking like this… Trauma’s so fucking weird.”

Eric nodded in agreement. You caught him staring at your hands, shaking and shivering as they laid in your lap, and he started to unwind the blanket from around himself to settle over you, but you shook your head. “M’not cold,” you told him. “Just… Nervous. Y’know?”

Eric watched you for a moment, making sure that you weren’t bullshitting him (you were a little; your coat was wet through, and you definitely could do with a dry coat, but you would live), and he said, “I think you need to pet my cat.”

“Do I?” you asked with a chuckle.

“You sure do,” Eric nodded. “He doesn’t bite or scratch— he might nibble your fingers a little, but only ‘cause he’s curious.”

You reached out for Frodo, letting him sniff your hand a little before he shoved his solid little head under your fingers, squinting his eyes as you started to scratch behind his ears. You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, and you said, “He’s very sweet.”

“He’s smart too,” Eric said. “He can do maths. Look’it: Frodo, what’s one minus one?”

Frodo, of course, responded in silence, and Eric smiled, cocking his head. “I think that’s impressive,” he said, and you huffed out a laugh.

“Silly,” you mumbled under your breath, moving to scratch Frodo on his chin. “When’s the last time he’s eaten? I can try to find something for him.”

“Last night,” Eric said, his smile faltering. “Sam might’ve given him something earlier this morning, but I didn’t wake up until later.”

That’s how you greeted the island, petting Frodo and sharing light stories about your past lives. Nothing too heavy or sad or emotional, even though it felt like any story about your past life held an air of sadness and mourning. You could try to go back to normal, but normal was long gone. As everyone departed the boat under the dusky stars, there was a large team of FEMA workers to greet you with big, heavy bags and send you to an empty cabin for the night. You and Eric (and Frodo) stuck together, and you received your bags and moved down to a cabin. To your surprise, the lights worked, as did a small space heater in the corner, but you can tell it had been running for some time, because the inside was already warm. Several beds were set up and made with thin, government-issued bedsheets, but it was far better than nothing.

You went about unpacking the bag as Eric moved to the small bathroom and shut the door. There was a change of clothes, sweatshirt and pants and underwear and socks, basic toiletries like a toothbrush and shampoo and a small bar of soap, two bottles of water, a plastic packaged MRE (you had Menu 3, “chicken, egg noodles, and vegetables in sauce”), and some things like Band-Aids and small packages of Advil like what you kept stocked in the ER, along with a sanitary napkin, and, the piece de resistance (courtesy of the American government, you’re very welcome), a condom. You frowned at the last thing and slid it into your toiletries bag underneath the bar of soap to hide it; to be frank, sex was the last thing you wanted or needed. Your brain was still in survival mode, and you didn’t even feel like you could settle down enough to sleep, let alone to fuck. Could anybody here?

You heard the shower squeak on in the bathroom, and the pipes creaked as water rushed through. You stripped off your clothes, exchanging them for the warmer and drier and less dirty option, and you sniffled as your fingers began to warm up, becoming less stiff but considerably more sweaty. The bed creaked under you as you sat down, the springs screaming at you, and you rubbed the paper-thin blanket between your fingers. It reminded you of the quality of the hospital, where you might as well be using copy paper instead of fabric. If you had known that your last night in your bed, with your memory foam pillow and weighted blanket, would truly be your last, you would have savored the experience far more. Would you even be warm enough under those blankets?

You couldn’t ponder it any longer, because Frodo suddenly caught a bee in his bonnet, and he skittered from atop the second bed, where Eric had settled his things before he went to the shower. He careened to the closed bathroom door, and he got up on his hind legs, pawing at the door handle. Wordlessly, he craned his tiny head to look at you, and he made the first cat noise you heard him make, a sort of “mrrow” chirping groan. As you got up and went to grab him (“Eric’s just taking a shower, Fro, he’ll be right back”), Frodo turned back to the door and began to bat at the handle, like he was attempting to turn it.

And then you remembered. Frodo was a service cat. He had been trained to alert for certain things, and Eric had mentioned rising pain levels, but what else could Frodo alert for? Suddenly, your heart jumped into your throat, and you knocked on the door. “Eric? You okay?” you asked, but you received no answer. “Eric? Hey, man, Frodo’s freaking out, are you alright in there?”

It was hard to hear too much over the sound of the running shower, but you heard the unmistakable shaking breath of a gasping sob, and, maybe against your better judgement, you turned the door handle. The door wasn’t locked, and the hinges squeaked as you opened the door. Eric had shed his blanket and cardigan and loosened his tie, but he was backed into the far corner of the bathroom, staring at the porcelain bathtub with eyes as big as dinner plates. The faucet was running, the tub filling up, but Eric was frozen. Quickly, you turned the tap and shut off the water, and you gave him his space as you asked “What’s wrong? Can you tell me what happened?”

Eric shook his head, his mouth contorting into an ugly sob, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears leaked out, and he just kept shaking his head over and over. “No, no,” he mumbled. “No!”

“Hey, easy,” you told him gently. “What’s going on? How can I help?”

“Th-The water,” Eric gasped. “I—I—” His knees gave out, and he slumped against the wall with a sob. He began to claw at his shirt, at the topmost button; even though it was undone, he still seemed to want it looser.

You rushed to his aid, pushing his hands aside and starting at his shirt buttons. His eyes were still shut tight, but you needed to see his pupils— if he was in shock, or if something else was happening, the dilation of his pupils could help tell you. “Eric,” you said softly. “Open your eyes, please. Please? I need to see your eyes.”

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and you saw his pupils so big and dark, they almost overtook the brown of his iris. His face was pale, his chest heaving as you undid his buttons, and you pressed your fingers to the side of his neck to check his pulse. Fast, hard, heavy. You had been by his side all night, he hadn’t taken any medication that he could be having a reaction to, and he had been eating the same crackers and water that you had. There weren’t many other conclusions to come to— a panic attack. But at what?

Eric sank down to the floor, sobbing and shaking, and you followed him, putting a gentle but controlling grip on his wrists. You didn’t think he would, but you needed to control him if he started to get violent. “Eric, take a breath,” you told him. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you, okay? Everything is alright.”

Eric sucked in a breath and doubled over on himself, and you kept your hands on his wrists as you shifted away— if he got sick, you didn’t want it on your clothes. Although, you were sure you could get different ones somehow. But he didn’t get sick, he just kept crying. You felt awful and tasted bitter in your mouth. Typically, at this point, you would be paging the mental health wing to come by and evaluate him, and you’d move on to the next person waiting in the ER. You didn’t know how to talk someone down from a panic attack. You didn’t even know how to do that for yourself, let alone for Eric.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Okay, it’s okay. What happened? Did something happen?”

Eric’s eyes glazed over you and settled behind your shoulder, and you looked back to see the bathtub. It was hardly half-full, but everything clicked into place. “The water,” you said. “You’re afraid of the water. Is that it?”

Eric sniffled and nodded weakly, and you blinked away tears. “That’s okay,” you whispered. “That’s totally okay. I mean, you had to jump into the water to get away from the monsters, I don’t blame you for being afraid—”

“I was down in the subway,” Eric blurted out. “When the monsters came. I was there, and I couldn’t stop thinking, I just kept thinking, and I… I didn’t have the guts to do it. I wanted to do it, I wanted to! But I was too scared that it would hurt. Was scared I’d looked too fucked up and they wouldn’t be able to tell who I was, and my-my mum, thinking about my mum being told, it would kill her, and I was just thinking… And the water came rushing in. Filled everything up, there was no air… I had to swim, and I can’t swim, I never learned really, but I was swimming and I just thought ‘I don’t actually want to die’. But I started feeling spotty, all lightheaded and fairy, and I think I was starting to drown, but I saw the light and came up…”

You were at a loss for words. If you were understanding him, he had been trying to kill himself before the monsters. It sounded like he was moments away from stepping in front of a train. His saving grace was the flood in the tunnels. You had trouble swallowing as your throat went thick, and you lowered your eyes for a minute before you loosened your grip on his wrists. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be alright. Do you want to take a shower instead?”

Eric shook his head. “Doesn’t work,” he mumbled. “Only the tub does.”

You sighed heavily. “Do you want me to stay?” you asked. “Or I can wait outside the door?”

Eric seemed edging into a catatonic state, just shivering and blinking, and you frowned. You finished your abandoned job of undoing his shirt buttons, and you loosened his tie until it came off completely, and you gently pushed off his stained and ragged buttoned shirt. His undershirt wasn’t in much better shape, the underarms and neck stained with sweat, and you started to take it off, but paused. “Is this okay?” you asked. He didn’t react to your question, just staring at your neck, and you carefully angled his head up to look you in the face. “Eric. Is it okay if I undress you and put you in the bath? I’ll be right here the whole time, I won’t leave you alone.”

Eric weakly nodded, shifting his arms a little to better help you pull his undershirt over his head, and his hands went down to his pants to finish the job. You quickly considered what the next steps were as Eric fished his belt from his pants loops, and you pushed the sleeves of your sweatshirt up to your elbows to free up your hands. Eric, now only in his boxers, gave you a pathetic look, and you took him by the hand and helped him to his feet. You figured that he had forgone removing his boxers for a reason, so you didn’t push it, and you held him stable as he lifted a shaking foot over the edge of the bathtub. He was silent, but you watched tears run down his cheeks as he settled both feet in the water, his grip on your hand so tight that it almost hurt.

Slowly, he sat down in the tub, and the water splashed your hand. It was warm but not hot enough to hurt, and you sat by the edge of the bathtub, watching Eric as he sniffled. He certainly was dirty after two days in an apocalyptic city, and you were sure that you weren’t any better off, and you started to get up to retrieve the toiletry bag that he had brought in with him, settled by the sink, but his tight grip only became more vice-like as you tried to depart. “Don’t—” he choked out, and you shushed him gently.

“I’m not leaving,” you told him. “Just getting the shampoo and stuff, just by the sink.”

“Can you get in?” Eric asked softly, almost at a whisper. “When you come back?”

“I-In?” you repeated. “Like, in the bath?”

Eric nodded. He was watching you with his big, intense eyes, and a shiver ran down your back.

“Okay,” you told him. “Umm… I don’t know if I can. I don’t have any other clothes, and I can’t get these wet.”

“Please?” Eric whimpered. “Need… Just need help.”

Maybe it was because you felt bad for him, or maybe you were feeling something that you didn’t want to consider yet, but regardless of the reason, you nodded. You got up from the floor and retrieved the bag from the sink counter, and you came back to the tub. The sides of the tub were curved, not allowing for you to settle the stuff on the edge, and you quickly handed the shampoo and soap to him. He held them gingerly, and he averted his eyes down to the water as you put the bag down and started to pull off the sweatshirt. “Eric,” you said softly. “You can look. You’re gonna see everything in the next few minutes anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

Slowly, Eric raised his eyes up, but he still didn’t look staright at you. At least now it wasn’t obvious that he was avoiding looking at you like before, where it felt like he would be burned alive if he looked. You carefully pulled the sweatshirt over your head and set it by your feet, then you pulled down the sweatpants and stepped out of them. Your heart was beating quickly as you lowered yourself into the bathtub, sitting with your back to Eric, and he nudged his legs a little wider to allow you to sit comfortably. The water felt good on your aching muscles, especially your back, and you sighed lightly. You sat for a moment, trying to drum up enough courage to turn to him and start to help, but he beat you to it.

Eric’s hands were warm, his palm a little rough, as he touched your shoulder, sliding his hand down a little to reach your back. His fingers played with the ends of your hair, and he lowered his hand back to the water. He cupped his palm and let water flow in, then he brought it up to you and wet your hair. Was this his definition of help? To help himself, he had to help others? It made sense, but it still took you a little by surprise. You don’t think anybody had ever washed your hair for you, not since you were a kid. But this was different, in just about every way possible. It was intimate in a way that made your breath catch in your throat, and you swallowed thickly as Eric lifted a hand and tilted your head back to lightly pour water over the front of your hair. He was careful in his work, making sure not to get it on your face or in your ears, and you listened to his breathing even out as he diligently did his task.

The shampoo was some cheap, basic crap, didn’t smell like anything and was only good for getting the oil out of your hair, but the way that Eric worked it into your hair made it seem like it was made by the gods. You felt relaxed, the first time in a long time, and your eyes slipped close as his fingertips worked into your scalp. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that good, especially by someone else’s hands— maybe years, it was hard to say. You knew that, no matter how good it felt, you couldn’t sink too hard into the feeling of it. Eric just needed to help you, and this was his help; nothing more, nothing less.

He gently poured water from his palms over your hair, rinsing it out as best as possible, and you felt that hot streak shoot up your nose. You wanted to cry. You hadn’t cried in… You had no idea. It certainly had been a long time, and you frowned and gulped as you held down the tears. Unluckily for you (or maybe luckily; it was nice to know Eric was so attentive), he noticed your catched breathing, and his hands gently settled on your shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Are you?” you answered, almost a knee-jerk reaction. Don’t worry about yourself, worry about your patient, your friend, anybody else. You came last in your mind, everybody else was more important than you.

“That’s not what I asked you,” Eric said firmly. “Are you okay?”

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that nothing was wrong. He didn’t need to worry about you, you were tough, you could handle yourself. You watched as water filtered through your own fingers, pooling in your palm but escaping out of every little break and crevice possible, and you pursed your lips as you slowly rubbed your face, trying to wash away to grime and dirt. You shook your head lightly, trying to come up with any words to express yourself, and you wiped off your cheeks as you sniffled. “I don’t know.” You couldn’t come up with any better explanation; you just didn’t know if you were okay or not. Your hands slid down your face and flattened up against your neck, and you sighed. “Are you okay?” you tried again.

“I’ll be okay,” Eric told you. His hands smoothed down your shoulders to your arms, and he squeezed your upper arm for a moment before he went for the soap, starting up a lather between his palms.

“Well, sure, we’ll all be okay eventually,” you replied. “But are you okay right now?”

Eric waited until he was washing your back to answer. His sudsy hands slipped over your skin easily, but he dug his fingertips into your muscles, offering relief. “I’ll be okay,” he repeated. “I don’t know what I am right now, to be honest. Head’s just full of… I don’t know. A whole lot of noise, but not any one thing. It’s all quiet out here, but in there, it’s just…” He sighed, and his hands halted at your sides. He obviously had been on track to move to your front, doing his job on autopilot, and he only thought about what he was doing as he was about to do it.

Silently, you shifted your weight back just a hint, closer to him, trying to tell him that it was alright without saying the words. He quickly caught on to what you were telling him, and his hands slid around your body to your front. To your relief, he avoided where you had expected his hands to go, instead wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging himself to you, setting his chin on your shoulder. “You make it quiet up there,” Eric whispered, barely above a breath, like he was afraid of saying it out loud. “I don’t know how, I don’t know why… But you start talking, and it’s like everything else fades away.”

That was your breaking point. Tears started to fall from your eyes, and you sniffled as your hands reached up to your neck and clutched his wrists, looking for anything tangible to hold on to while you cried. And cried you did, your face contorted as you sobbed, your shoulders shaking and chest heaving, and you squeezed Eric’s wrists. He was quick to move impossibly closer, molding his front to your back, and his arms slipped down to your middle, squeezing you tightly as he buried his face in your neck and began to cry as well. He was much quieter than you, not having nearly as much that he held back and needed to get rid of, but it felt good to have someone commiserate with you.

You weren’t sure who moved first— maybe there wasn’t a first to move, maybe you both moved at the same time— but somehow your foreheads came to touch, and your crying pettered down to a sniffle and watery eyes. Your hand came up to touch his cheek, scruffy with a few days’ old beard trying to grow in, and your thumb stroked his cheekbone. He keened into your touch, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. His big brown eyes, so full of every emotion, hidden just so but easy to see if you knew where to look, locked on yours, and your lips fell open in anticipation of his mouth on yours.

Instantly, though, you shifted away and lightly cleared your throat. This wasn’t the time for that. You didn’t know if there would ever be a time for that again. Quietly, you splashed water on your face, and stood up, carefully getting out of the bathtub and going after the towel that sat on the countertop. You scooped your clothes up off the floor as well, and you escaped from the bathroom without a word. You were sure he was confused, maybe even wounded, but you didn’t care. On some level, you did want that— you wanted to feel wanted, to feel adored, cared about, and Eric was a great guy for that, but you didn’t want just that. You wanted a life, you wanted a partner, you wanted love— not just some trauma-borne fuck that you forgot about as soon as it happened.

You dried your body and slipped into your full outfit, pants and sweatshirt and underwear and socks, and you sat on your bed as you dried your hair. You listened as, inside the bathroom, the water sloshed against the side of the tub while Eric moved around, and you watched as Frodo calmly stalked the perimeter of the room, seeming to check every nook and cranny. You put your damp towel to the side and tutted out at the cat, and Frodo looked up at you for a moment before he scampered over to you, hopping up onto the bed and settling himself in your lap. “You’re a good boy, Fro,” you whispered, stroking his back. “Such a good boy.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Eric’s voice floated to you, and you turned to him. He was now all clean as well, his hair soggy and his face free of grime, wearing the sweatpants and sweatshirt. His hair was pushed away from his face, and you could see, even in the dim light, freckles dotting his forehead.

You sighed. “No,” you replied. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

“Did you not want me to…?” Eric began.

“No, no, it’s not that,” you told him quickly. “Not that at all, I did want you to, I just… I don’t know if I can do all that.”

“All what?” Eric asked. “What did you think was going to happen if I kissed you?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “I don’t know, I assumed more would come of it. And I just don’t know if I’m ready for more. Even before the world came crashing down, I wasn’t ready for more. That’s why I didn’t have anyone; not because I didn’t have time, although that was true. I’m just… Scared.”

Eric quietly moved towards you, bypassing his bed and settling at the extreme edge of yours, as far away as possible while still occupying the same space. Frodo looked at him with thin eyes and he slowly blinked at Eric, and his tail flopped in an indignant half-wag. “Scared of what?” Eric asked.

You sighed. “That I won’t be right for anyone,” you said. “Even back when I was on the market, people always… I don’t know. Wanted more, and for whatever reason, I could never give more to them. I was always so afraid of what would happen when I finally gave all of myself to someone that I never did, and by the time I figured out that someone did want all of me, it was too late and I’d already lost them. I can never win— I’m always never enough or I’m too much. I’m never just right.”

Eric thought on your words for a few moments, and he moved closer to you, just an inch. “Yeah,” he said. “But that was back then. Everything has changed. Everything is different now. You don’t need to be afraid of being what’s right, because what used to be right is just… All sorts of fucked up now. Nobody knows anything anymore. I certainly don’t. But I know what I want, more than I ever have before.”

“And let me guess,” you said. “You want me?”

You hoped that calling him out on his cheesy cliché would have him back down. You liked that he wanted you, and you wanted him too, you wanted him so badly that it hurt, but you didn’t want him to mistake wanting you for wanting a connection with someone.

“I want to be okay again,” Eric told you. “But I need you.”

That was the most magical word of all. Need. It punched a hole in your heart and took your breath away, and you watched him as he watched you, just seeing who would dare to break first. Frodo seemed to know something you didn’t, because he jumped up out of your lap and skittered across the room with an uncharacteristic yowl, and you frowned as he sped away, but your frown was quickly wiped off your face as Eric bridged the gap and kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He held your face as his lips moulded to yours, a perfect fit as you kissed back, and you wound your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. It felt good to kiss someone, to hold someone and be held by someone. You forgot how much you missed the feeling of another person, and you melted into his body as he claimed your hips in his strong hands. His knuckles were scuffed up, but he held you so gently, and you easily fell back onto the bed. He followed you, settling over you like he had done it a thousand times before, but the way his hands slowly slid up the sides of your shirt to touch your bare skin showed you how much it meant to him. Slow and gentle and sweet, he was everything you had wanted from a partner and a lover for as long as you could remember.

But you could tell, even though he was being sweet, how badly he wanted to have you. His kiss was greedy, shifting away from your mouth to kiss your chin and jaw and neck, almost feral with his need for you, but you welcomed it. Strong emotions like that were flattering, especially here and now, and you didn’t waste much time before sliding your hand past the elastic waistband of the sweatpants nestled around his hips. Your palm found his cock instantly, and you held in your gasp of surprise at his size— he definitely had something to be proud of. His skin was warm through the layer of his underwear, and you paused and widened your eyes at him, a quiet question of how far he wanted you to go.

“You don’t have to be quiet anymore,” Eric whispered. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You shivered underneath him at the sweet name he had bestowed on you, and you quietly asked, “Do you want me to…?”

“God, yes,” he moaned. “Haven’t done this in so long…”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile as you slipped under his briefs, and your fingers wrapped around his thick length. His skin was hot to the touch, his cock rock-hard, and he moaned softly into your neck at the contact. Whether he meant to or not, his hips rolled forward, pushing himself further into your grip, and he quickly whispered, “M’sorry, fuck—”

“Don’t apologize,” you told him. Your free hand went to cradle his cheek, and you shifted his face so that you could kiss his plush lips again. “It’s hot.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eric asked. “It’s hot how…” He paused to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip with his front teeth, and he continued. “How desperate I am?”

“I am too,” you told him. “I just hide it better.”

Almost as if he was checking if you were lying, his hand skated down from your side and into your pants, letting his fingers mold to your cunt, and he chuckled lightly. “God, you’re wet,” he smiled. “That makes me feel better.”

“Were you worried I wasn’t?” you asked.

“Just a little,” Eric whispered, wrinkling his nose. “But I figured you’d tell me if something wasn’t working for you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you told him. You chased him into another kiss, and his tongue invaded your mouth. It had been so long since you had someone make you feel like that, and you whined softly into his mouth. “Eric, please.”

“What do you want?” he asked. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

“Anything,” you whimpered. Your legs shifted, coming up to anchor around his waist, and you slowly started to stroke his cock, teasing his soft head, just to see his reaction.

Thankfully, his cheeks went red, and that pretty pink mouth of his opened in a moan, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he mumbled, “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m already too close for you to be doing that.”

“Already?” you asked. You sounded a little more surprised than you meant to, and you quickly added, “That’s really attractive, Eric, I hope you know that.”

“What is?” he chuckled. “That I’ve got a short fuse?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged sheepishly. “I think it is, anyway. How can I help you?”

“Umm,” Eric said, then swallowed thickly. “Can I… Tits?”

You smiled at him, and you laid a gentle kiss on his lips before he shifted away, letting you pull up your sweatshirt. Your little survival packs hadn’t provided you with a bra of any kind, and you watched Eric’s already-wide eyes flare out at the sight of your chest. He didn’t say a word before he moved down your body and started to kiss everywhere he could reach, taking time and care on your tits. Your hand fell out of his pants at the angle shift, and you settled your fingers to twist in his damp curls as his own hand replaced yours, jerking himself off as he gently licked at your hardening nipple.

“S’that okay?” he whispered, casting his doe eyes up at you, and you nodded quickly. “’Cause if it’s not, I can stop—”

“I promise it’s okay,” you whispered. “I swear.”

Eric smiled. “She swears,” he whispered under his breath, and you giggled. “She swears she likes when I suck her tits. Aren’t I a lucky guy?”

You could hardly ignore the hot pressure between your legs, and you snaked your hand in-between your bodies and started to push down your sweatpants, but Eric noticed what you were up to, and he tugged his hand out of his own pants to capture the waistband of your sweatpants in his grasp. “Please,” he said. “Allow me.” You could tell that he intended to be funny, but his flushed face and fucked-out pupils made it seem a lot more pathetic than you’re sure he meant to be, but that just made a rush of heat strike your core, and your head fell back in bliss as you felt your hot skin slowly exposed to the air.

When you lifted your head back up to look at him, you watched as he shed his own clothes, finally matching you, and you bit your lip as his heavy cock rose to lay against his tummy. He had the thinnest trail of hair coming from down his belly button, smatterings of hair on his chest, a nicely-groomed bush of hair at the base of his cock; he clearly cared about the way he looked, and you loved that. You wondered if the Eric you knew was anything like the Eric before the monsters came, and you watched as he leaned back and began to gently place kisses down the length of your body. He was soft and gentle with you, although you were nearly certain he wanted to take you then and there, and you wiggled a little under his lips. “Can we…” you started. “Do that later?”

“Do what?” Eric asked.

“The whole ‘sweet and kissy’ thing,” you said. “Not to sound, like, sex-starved or anything, but I am, and I think my heart’s gonna explode if you’re not inside me soon.”

Eric chuckled, obviously not expecting that level of honesty out of you, and he pushed his damp curls off of his forehead. “Whatever you’d like, sweetheart,” he told you. “As long as you promise to let me eat your cunt eventually. I can only go so long seeing you like this and be expected to not put my mouth on you.”

“Sure,” you replied, secretly excited that he was expecting a second time.

Eric swiped a quick kiss on your mouth, and then he furrowed his eyebrows. “Umm…” he began. “I— Do you… Are you on any birth control or anything?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “No,” you sighed. “I was, but all that’s back in my apartment in Brooklyn. Haven’t taken my pill since, like, three nights ago, so I’m basically fucked for the whole month.”

“Fuck,” Eric whispered, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “I guess, are you alright with this, then? We can figure something else out—”

“There’s, umm,” you winced. “A condom, in the bag with the shampoo and everything. There’s one in mine, and I bet there’s a second one in yours too.”

“Oh, shit, really?” Eric laughed. “That’s… That’s pretty funny.”

“Apparently, FEMA knows what people do in times of crisis,” you smiled.

“So, what I’m hearing,” Eric started, moving himself off the bed and going to your toiletries bag on the floor. His back turned to you, and you felt your eyes widen in shock at the state of his ass. Jesus Christ, this guy had a great ass, smooth and plump and perfectly rounded; you almost wanted to reach out and bite it. “Is that we can fuck twice, and then we’ll need to figure something else out.”

“Is that so?” you asked, and Eric came back to the bed, deftly tearing open the condom wrapper. You leaned up on your elbows to watch as he got back up on his knees, caging you between his thick thighs, and he made quick work of rolling the condom down his thick length, making a quiet grunt as he got it situated the way he wanted. “What makes you think there’ll be a third time? Or a second, for that matter?”

“Won’t there?” Eric asked. “You seem pretty into it right now. Or least your cunt is; look at how wet she is for me.”

“Well, yeah, now,” you teased him, biting the tip of your tongue, trying to will your thundering heart to go back to normal. “But what if, when everything is said and done, you’re actually a terrible fuck and I don’t want anything else to do with you?”

He laughed deep in his chest, and he took your thighs in his strong hands and opened your legs, smoothly settling himself so he could rub his hard cock against your weeping cunt. You felt blood thrumming under your skin, making every inch of you pulse and surge, and you whined high in your throat when the head of his cock caught at your hole, threatening to slip in with ease. “I doubt that, sweetheart,” he told you. “I’ve been told I’m a fantastic fuck.”

“Are you sure they weren’t trying to keep your ego intact?” you asked, and Eric tilted his head curiously at you.

“Well, they weren’t telling me much of anything,” he said. “Usually, by the end, they’re so fucked-out and brainless that they can hardly string a sentence together.”

Then, without a word of warning, he gripped your hips and slid himself inside of you, and you gasped. It had been so long that you had almost forgotten what sex felt like, but this was something entirely new and different. You could feel every ridge and vein on his cock, even through the condom, and he gave a delicious throb as you tightened your thighs around his hips. “Fuck!” you yelped, and a shade of worry passed over his face for just a moment. “I-I’m okay,” you told him quickly. “Just… Fuck, Eric, you’re so big.”

“You flatter me,” he chuckled. Slowly, he began to rock his hips into you, moving shallowly at first, just letting you get used to his size, and his dull fingernails buried into the flesh of your hip. You couldn’t help all the little noises he caused you to make— you could feel every inch of him, burying deep within you, stretching you and filling you like he was made for you, and he leaned down and ghosted against your lips with his. “Feel good?” he whispered, and you nodded quickly.

“Do I?” you asked softly. Your arms went around him, holding him close to you, and you pressed your fingers into his shoulders. He felt like a lifeline, his warm skin keeping you grounded, and you didn’t even care if you sounded pathetic or insecure. He made you feel good and safe, and that’s all that you cared about.

“Fuck, so good,” he grunted out. He was picking up speed, gaining a good rhythm that made you wonder how prolific he had been before his career got in the way, and you listened to the bed squeak under you as he mumbled, “So warm… So wet… You feel like a dream… Remember that short fuse I talked about?”

“Really?” you smiled. “Already?”

“Listen, woman,” Eric started, and you dragged him into a messy kiss. You loved him talking like that, and it made you realize just how close you were as well. He tugged away from the kiss to take a deep breath, and he went in to kiss you again, hungry and wanting you. He was going fast now, pumping in and out of you, leaving pleasure and sparks in his wake, and your legs twitched and tightened as the knot in your belly twisted closer and closer to its end. “I haven’t had sex in years,” Eric continued, finally tearing himself away from your lips. “And my right hand can only do so much after a while. So excuse me for being a little quick to the draw tonight.”

“How many years?” you asked.

Eric sighed. “I dunno,” he said. “At least since I graduated law school, so… Five years, maybe?”

“God,” you chuckled. “That’s… A while.”

“No, wait,” Eric said. “Three years. My birthday a few years ago, my mates took me out to a bar, and I met a girl, I spent the night at her place… And she never answered my texts after that.”

“Ouch,” you hissed. “That must’ve hurt that ego of yours.”

“Not gonna lie, it did,” Eric laughed. “But it’s for the best. I didn’t have time for a girlfriend anyway, I would’ve been an awful boyfriend to her. Or to anyone, not just her… What about you?”

“Umm…” you started. “Sex… Yes, I know what that is. Definitely a thing I’ve had before now.”

“Don’t play with me like that,” Eric started, jokingly wide-eyed and startled, and you laughed.

“About the same, I guess,” you said. “Three-ish years… It was back a few years ago, I was feeling bad about getting older and having a career but no partner, so I… I went on a dating app, found a guy, and we talked for a little bit and hooked up, but I got a bad vibe from him, so I broke it off.”

“I’m sorry,” Eric said. “Did you like him?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “And he wasn’t even that great in bed.”

“So, I’ve got him beat in every category, right?” Eric asked.

You kissed him again, cupping your hand across the back of his neck, and he smoothed his hands up your body lovingly. “You’ve got everyone beat, baby,” you told him.

“I think you’re an angel, actually,” Eric told you, and you shyly shook your head. “No, no, I think so. I don’t care if you don’t agree, that’s what I think.”

“Whatever you say,” you told him. “Can you, umm… Maybe a little faster?”

Eric obliged, pistoning his hips quicker to fuck you to your liking, and his hand floated to your pussy, his thumb gently rubbing at your throbbing little clit. You whined and scratched at his back, tightening your legs and digging your heel into that ass he had, and the electric shocks that ran up your toes and into the rest of your body started to become too good, too much. “Eric!” you gasped. “Eric, fuck!”

“I’ve got you, angel,” Eric whispered in your ear. “I’ve got you. Let me see that pretty face when you cum, yeah? Wanna feel your cunt squeeze me, fuck, I need it.”

You looked down at yourself, watching as his hard cock plunged in and out of your hole, leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock, and your whining and whimpering almost had the wet squelch of your bodies together beat. Then, almost against your will, your whole body relaxed, every muscle feeling like it went slack, and you sobbed out your final moan, your head falling back as your nails went hard into his freckled shoulders. You felt your wet cover your inner thighs, and you panted as Eric chased his own end. You didn’t have to wait too long before you heard him choke back a moan, and he spilled himself inside the condom. You felt the warmth of his spend inside you, and he slowly pulled out of you with a hiss at the sensation on his sensitive, softening cock.

He was quick to take care of the condom, and he came back to the bed and settled in the small, empty space beside you. His red chest was heaving, his cheeks flooded with pink color, and he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you close to him. You melted into his warmth, mashing your cheek against his hard chest, and he let out a breathy laugh. “Fuck,” he gasped. “I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t eaten real food all day or what, but I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” you giggled. “I think you were just that good.”

“Once again, angel,” Eric whispered, settling a soft kiss on your head. “You flatter me.”

You fell into a comfortable silence then, listening to each other’s breathing even out, and Eric cleared his throat after a while. “Typically, at this point,” he started. “I’d be smoking a cigarette.”

“Oh my God, Eric, no,” you groaned. “Don’t you know how unhealthy that is?”

“Oh, right,” Eric chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Miss Nurse. So concerned for my health.”

“Right,” you told him. “I care about you, and I don’t want you to have breathing complications or worse early in life from smoking.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Eric told you. “I think I need another shower after that, though.”

“You do sorta stink,” you giggled, and Eric rolled his eyes. “If you shower, I can be making food.”

“Food?” Eric asked. “There’s food?”

“Yeah, an MRE,” you told him, and you grunted as you got out of bed, going in search of the plastic-packaged meal. “Chicken and noodles. I didn’t see what yours was.”

“Fuck,” he laughed. “I’ve got a sexy woman making dinner for me? I might keep you around after all.”

“You have to keep me around,” you told him. “Who else is supposed to help you raise your cat?”

Frodo seemed to know his cue, because he revealed himself from behind a bookshelf, batting a bit of cobweb on his nose, and Eric smiled. “I suppose you’re right,” Eric said. “Just don’t feed him too much; he’ll get fat. He’ll also try to attack your hand if you pet his belly, so don’t do that either.”

“Noted,” you told him. “Go shower, handsome, this should be done by then.”

Eric took a moment to wrap his arms around you and press a kiss to your temple, and he softly said, “I wish we could have met any other way. But, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Me too,” you told him, turning in his arms to give him a real, genuine kiss. “I’m so glad you found me.”

[lev1hei1chou]

A What?

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: You ask for a baby out of nowhere Masterlist Requests open!

"Hey, Satoru, I want a baby."

The man choked on his cereal. Milk splattered across the table, and he coughed, looking at you with wide, incredulous eyes. "You what?"

You grinned, loving his reaction. "I want a baby."

Gojo blinked, processing your words. "Like...a human baby? With diapers and all?"

You laughed. "Yes, Satoru, a human baby. Not a cursed spirit baby or a baby goat. A tiny human."

He leaned back in his chair, still stunned. "You can't just drop a bomb like that while I'm eating my Froot Loops, babe. Give a guy some warning."

You shrugged, leaning over to wipe a speck of milk off his cheek. "I thought you could handle anything."

"Yeah, curses and evil sorcerers, sure. But this...this is a whole new level of scary." He ran a hand through his white hair, making it stand up in more directions than usual. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." You sat down across from him, your expression softening. "I think we'd make great parents."

He looked at you, eyes softening. "Of course we would. I mean, look at us. We're awesome."

You snorted. "Modest, as always."

"Hey, it's not arrogance if it's true." He grinned, then grew serious again. "But...a baby? That's a big deal."

"I know. But I want to start a family with you, Satoru."

He was silent for a moment, then his lips curved into a smile. "Okay. Let's do it."

You blinked. "Really? Just like that?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I've always wanted kids. Didn't think about it too much because, you know, job hazards and all. But if you want a baby, then I want a baby. Simple as that."

You laughed, feeling a wave of relief and excitement. "Simple as that, huh?"

"Yep." He stood up, suddenly energized. "Alright, let's make a baby right now."

Your eyes widened. "Satoru, we can't just...it's the middle of the day!"

"Details, details." He waved a hand dismissively. "I'm the strongest sorcerer in the world. I can make time for baby-making."

You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "How romantic."

He waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, I can be romantic. Just you wait."

The next few days were filled with Gojo's attempts at being "romantic." You came home to rose petals scattered all over the living room (which the cat was now batting around), a candlelit dinner (where he nearly set the kitchen on fire), and a bubble bath for two (where he splashed so much water that the bathroom flooded).

"You're really trying, aren't you?" you said, toweling off your hair after the bath fiasco.

He pouted. "I'm trying to set the mood."

You kissed his cheek. "I appreciate it, Satoru. But we don't need all this. Just you and me, together. That's enough."

He smiled, pulling you into his arms. "You're right. As always."

That night, lying in bed, he turned to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "So, about that baby..."

You laughed, swatting his chest. "Okay, okay. Let's do this."

A few weeks later, you found yourself holding a pregnancy test in your hand, heart pounding. Gojo was pacing back and forth in the bathroom, looking more nervous than you'd ever seen him.

"Okay, okay, okay," he muttered. "It's fine. Whatever it says, it's fine."

You glanced at the test, then at him. "Satoru, you need to calm down."

He stopped pacing and looked at you, taking a deep breath. "Right. Calm. I can do calm."

You held up the test, a smile spreading across your face. "We're having a baby."

For a moment, he just stared at you, then he whooped, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. "We're having a baby! I'm gonna be a dad!"

You laughed, holding onto him. "Yes, you are. And you're going to be amazing."

He set you down, his eyes shining. "We're going to be amazing."

Months passed in a whirlwind of doctor's appointments, baby shopping, and Gojo's over-the-top preparations. He baby-proofed the house, even the ceiling, "just in case the baby is super strong and starts climbing walls."

"Satoru, that's ridiculous," you said, watching as he padded the corners of the coffee table with foam.

He looked up at you, serious. "Safety first, babe."

When the day finally came, Gojo was more nervous than you. He held your hand in the delivery room, eyes wide as he watched the process.

"You're doing great," he whispered, though it seemed like he was saying it more to himself than to you.

Hours later, when the baby finally arrived, Gojo stared at the tiny bundle in his arms, tears in his eyes. "Hi there, little one. I'm your dad."

You smiled, exhausted but happy. "And I'm your mom."

He looked at you, his expression full of love and awe. "We did it."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion. "Yeah, we did."

[yvvxs]

Physical Touch...‎ ‎

‎ ‎↪ ft. argenti. arlan. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng & imbibitor lunae. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. luka. luocha. sampo. sunday. welt.

Argenti brushing your hair, making sure to gently undo any knots found in it. He would help you clean up any dirt from your skin and clothes, making sure you looked even more beautiful than you already were. You were his beloved, and he'd make sure to make you feel like it was so all the time through soft moments just like these.

Being in the infirmary with Arlan, who bandages up any wounds you got. He places soft kisses over small band-aids or bigger scars, making sure to help you feel better. He wouldn't want to let you hurt any longer than you already did. He promises that it'll be all better with him by your side.

Aventurine would hold you close to himself as you both roam the casino. Winning every single game he played, as always. Letting every other patron there know that you were the only one allowed to be so close to the luckiest man in the building. No one would be able to catch his heart just as you have with him as he places a kiss on your forehead, silently reminding you with a smile.

In between missions, Blade would hold you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing soothing patterns into your back. Elio hadn't assigned him to the next thing in the script yet, so he still had time to be with you, to give you some attention before he has to set off for whatever dangers he'd be going through next.

Despite not being able to feel much, Boothill gives you so much love. An arm wrapped around your waist, tight hugs which brings you closer to himself. Whenever he feels like he wants to feel your touch, he just nuzzles his face into you, chuckling gently with a smirk on his face. Knowing you're too good for someone like him.

Caelus clinging onto you while the Crew watches a horror movie together in the Astral Express. He yelps at the smallest thing, holding you close to himself for dear life. Despite going through life-threatening things, he still was a little scaredy-cat underneath all of that, your little raccoon boyfriend would never change, not like you'd want him to.

Laying your head on Dan Heng's shoulder as he types out something on the Data Bank after your last mission. All of you were tired from what you had experienced, but he diligently writes more information for everybody. Also, gently caressing Imbibitor Lunae's horns, placing soft kisses on them as his tail wraps around your hips, silently trying to pull you closer to himself.

Bathing with Dr. Ratio, he thoroughly washes your body, touching you in places only he can. The bubbly sensation relaxing the two of you as you clean up together. Enjoying the soft, alone time, just for the both of you. With no other people to pry or disturb either of you.

Gallagher guiding your hands as you two work at the Dreamjolt Hostelry. Making sure to help you find the correct ingredients to serve to your different customers. Handing you something he was previously using, your fingers grazing over one another's and feeling the small and short touches that you two share every now and then.

Sitting in the Silvermane Restricted Zone with Gepard, as he lets you bandage his wounds he got from the battles with the Fragmentum. He wasn't fully invincible, and him getting hurt would be inevitable. He knew that his job was dangerous, but letting you at least know he was okay, and that you can make him feel better would make himself feel better.

Jing Yuan letting you sit on his lap as he works. His work was usually boring most of the time, but when you were there with him, it made it so much more interesting. He nuzzled into your neck every now and then, smirking against your skin as he inhaled your scent. He could never get sick of these times with you, and no one could take you away from him, not even the Master Diviner.

Cuddles with Luka after he wins his last match at the Fight Club. It's his little reward from you that he always looked forward to. Even if he did lose, which we all know would barely actually happen, he would always be spoiled like this. He would always love having your warmth and comfort after hard work put into his fights.

Luocha's fingers intertwined with yours as the two of you go through the Luofu together. He wasn't anyone else other than your lover when he was with you, and he'd make sure you know it. Kisses on the back of your hand or playing with your hair when the two of you were alone, or even when there was a man secretly watching from behind the scenes.

Holding Sampo's face in your hands as you gently scold him for conning another person. He just wanted to get money for you, but that didn't mean he had to get it through means like this. You remind him not to do that again, though we both know that he would do it again, all for you.

You were the only one who was loved enough by Sunday to be able to touch his soft wings, other than his own sister. He would let you clean them up, touch them up and even preen any loose feathers that stuck out from the rest. Normally, he'd do it himself, but if it made you happy to help, then he'd let you do what you want.

Laying down with Welt on the couch in the Astral Express' Parlor Car, cuddling with him after a long day of missions at your current stop. He would brush his fingers through your hair. Your head on his chest, his other arm wrapped loosely around your body. Resting for the next day that would be full of exciting adventures for the two of you.

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Extreme Fluff!! Sweet Intimacy!!! A little canon cannibalism

Description: Different ways Alastor likes to be pampered by Wifey!Reader

When it comes to his wifey...Alastor is super spoiled and he knows it, craves it like nothing ever before

He's a glutton for your attention and everyone knows it

Every little act of kindness, every drop of affection and loving gaze just melts over his (shriveled black)heart like a sugary glaze

Mmmmmm glazed hearts

Great now he's hungry

ANYWAYS-

Even the normal everyday things make him feel warm and fuzzy inside

Like when you bring him his favorite tea in the mornings, giving him a soft kiss on the side of his face as you drape your arms around him

"Mm...good morning my dear..."

Or when you smooth over an unruly hair for him or fix his bow tie before he leaves the hotel

You can't have your snookums going out looking like some scruffy strawberry clown

You always make sure his staff is clean and polished, suit flawless and pressed, shoes shiny before he has an overlord meeting

You're NOT going to let your pookie bear hang around the other overlords with smudged shoes

Just. No.

Loves the days that you drag him off to the bathroom to coax him into a hot bath

"You've been so tense lately... let me take care of you..."

How can he say no to you?

He just relaxes and closes his eyes, letting your gentle fingers massage his scalp as you lather shampoo in his hair

The candles and bubbles 🫧 were a good touch too 👌

He almost always falls asleep by the time you're done massaging and cleaning him up, once you start scrubbing under his nails then he's OUT LIKE A LIGHT

Not that you mind, he's so attractive when he's sleeping

WAIT HUSBAND DON'T DROWN

Wakes up to an empty bathtub and a warm towel being wrapped around him by his delicious boo

You're so good to him how did you know he needed this

Always finds himself in a better mood after that, like his problems have all been washed and scrubbed away by your gentle pampering

He secretly loves it when you come by his radio tower with a fresh lunch, interrupting his set just because he needs to eat

Though he pretends it's a big hassle

He savors the food you bring him either way, walking you to the door afterwards and thanking you for thinking of him

Bby boy that's all you do is think about him

He locks the door on your way out tho

Alastor loves the way you convince him to come to bed with you, knowing he needs to sleep but also armed with the knowledge that he'll fight bedtime like a child

You leaning on the doorway already in your sleep attire, giving him a soft pout as he tries to continue his work and ignore you

"Alastor..."

Not his ears flicking up at the sound of your voice

When whining doesn't work, then you slink your way over to him, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you

He's trying so hard not to though, the moment he looks at your face then he knows he's done for

"Look at me, darling~"

Okay maybe just a quick glance-

Alastor you are a strong man, you are cruel and sadistic and you are an overlord with very important business!! You can handle telling your wife no-

Ffffffffuck.

Not the gooey goo goo doe eyes

Immediately leans into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers stroking his cheek

Not his tail fluttering

"Come to bed already~ I can't sleep without you, you know..."

And that's how you convince him to get to sleep every single night, a full 8 hours or whatever is recommended in Hell

Getting out of bed is hard for him because you look so delectable asleep and curled into him

Maybe he should take more time to pamper you too

But he's a selfish, greedy man who likes being spoiled by his wife so that thought is gone as fast as it came

He gets out of bed just to watch you whine and blindly reach out for him, so adorably pathetic

Okay just five more minutes of snuggles then I gotta go-

If he's cranky then you manage to convince him to nap, patting your lap and stroking his hair once he lays his head down

Your soft singing lulls him into a light sleep as you scratch and rub the ends of his ears

Wakes up drooling

Wakes up with his face buried in your stomach, arms locked around your waist as he sleepily breathes in your scent

How is he supposed to get any work done with you around????

Alastor loves all those things but his favorite way that you spoil him?? His number one fave?? That he would never admit to anyone??

When you give him your special smile, the one that's always been his to see and his alone

The smile that conveys enough warmth and love to make all of Hell seem like Heaven, at least for him anyways

The same smile that he first saw when you told him that you loved him, the same smile that tells him you still love him

You spoil him

Alastor thinking of his wife:

[vibingandsimping]

Randomly assorted headcanons (sfw+nsfw) for randomly assorted characters… pt. 2

I have yet to make a pinned post with some sort of navigation/rules guide but I will state in all my posts. Asks and Submissions are always open and if you have trouble with it comment!

Not proofread cause that’s for the weak 🥰

Characters involved: Gale, Halsin, Karlach

Tags/Forewarnings: AFAB + AMAB genitalia mentions, use of magic to enhance sex, size differences, breeding, general worshipping, oral (receiving + giving), temperature play, fingering, penetration.

Gale

Y’all love pathetic men… I support. Anyways… Tell me i’m wrong but he’d love to spoil you. We already know he practically worships the ground you walk on. You entered his life full of strife and paved a way for him to have a more hopeful future. His eyes are practically hearts when he gazes upon you. As such, he’d love to buy you and craft you things when he can. He’d buy you a gorgeous dress/vest/suit and enchant it to your liking. It feels, quite literally, like magic when you wear it. He presses kisses to your ear as he sings about how downright breathtaking you are. You hate the fact that the words make a giggle bubble in your chest.

He holds you at any opportunity he gets. In truth, he cannot fathom that you two are lovers. He’s been with a goddess before but even she did not compare to you. His pinky grazes yours as you two stand near eachother. When someone’s back turns, he presses kisses onto your cheek until you forcibly push him away. Which he always uses his puppy eyes as a retaliation to show his hate. Curse those big brown eyes. If you’d let him, he’d be more intimate without being inherently sexual. His hands glide along your skin as he helps you bathe in a nearby river or lake. Occasionally he whispers about how perfect you are to him, inside and out.

Personally, this man is the male version of a wine aunt. Once he feels that he can unwind in the camp without facing repercussions, he likes to get delightfully tipsy. Enough that his skin warms and his tongue loosens. He laughs along with the companions and makes chatter in the quiet camp. If you happen to grace him with your presence, he sings out your name and beckons you forth. To his surprise, you settle next to him on the bedroll and he wraps an arm around your waist. Squeezing you tight as he presses his nose against the pulse in your neck. He murmurs almost incoherently but you can tell from the tone of his voice it was sweet nothings.

When the camp is silent and everyone is asleep, he enjoys the thrill of seeking you out. He finds you in your bedroll and gently shakes you awake, claiming he desires you and cannot sleep. If you are so kind to spare your sleep and indulge him, he promises he’ll make it worth your time. You two trail off to somewhere more secluded before he grasps you by the waist and presses his lips onto yours. His lips aren’t too rough against yours but pleasantly warm. His fingers dance along your skin, trailing the expanse of your stomach. Suddenly, he’s whispering against your lips. You can’t tell if he’s worked you up properly or if he’s genuinely speaking nonsense. Then, a sudden and intense shiver runs through your body. He smirks at you slightly and you cannot help the excitement in your veins.

You’d nearly forgotten about the strange shiver that encompassed your body until you were on your knees in front of him. His expression held a soft intimacy yet a deep desire. He was anything but pure… just so willing for your attention and love. His cock would throb before you in a silent plead for touch. You wrap your hand around the base before wrapping your lips around the tip. He gasps softly at the sensation whilst your eyes widened. As you touched him, there was a tingle in your own loins. It was shockingly intense and you mentally cursed this man for the effect he had on you. Steeling yourself, you began to work on his shaft. Suckling, licking, stroking… all while breathy gasps and whimpers escaped his chest. The tingle in your body didn’t dissipate- no, it only grew stronger. That’s when you gazed up at him in realization. His gaze was knowing and a little dark. The bastard charmed you… so that all the pleasure he experienced you’d experience and vice-versa. So that you two were properly intermingled for all the pleasure indulged that night.

He takes a certain pleasure in finding the spots on your body that make you shake and moan. Especially those that aren’t explicitly between your thighs. If he finds a spot on your neck, or thighs, or chest that makes you whimper and grasp his hair? He’s showering it with all his attention and love until it’s practically numb. His beard tickles your skin and causes you to occasionally squirm from the sensation. He wants you as turned on and into him as he is you. You can feel his erection against your thigh as he covers your neck in hickeys. His hips occasionally grinding for some sort of friction as he focused on you. If your hand trails down to his bulge, he grabs it swiftly and holds it beside your head. His lips are swollen and wet from his kisses and his pupils are blown wide. “Not yet, please, I’m not done. Not ready for this to be over yet…” He whines and gazes at you with a certain twinkle. Who are you to tell him no? Or, maybe that’s what you want to see?

Halsin

He adores the size difference you two have. He towers over nearly everybody he knows and gotten used to being large. Honestly, it was kind of a nuisance at times. He envied others who could bed anyone without the worry of repercussions. Yet, that is a topic for discussion later down this list. Point said, he loves the feeling you provide in his chest. A protective instinct overwhelms him. No matter how soft, rugged, muscular or chubby you are. He wants to hold you and ensure you’ll be safe. The look in his eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to even reach him bending over for a kiss shows the thrill he finds in it. It’s even better when you two are cuddling and you can rest your body so comfortably ontop of his. He’ll encapsulate his arms around your form and keep you close, enjoying the thrum of your heart as you sleep.

He’d teach you how to carve wood, if you’d like. It was one of his hobbies and for you to show interest in it only reminds him of how fine a specimen you are. He’s careful as he teaches you, watchful eyes constantly glancing and staring over your shoulder as your thumbs turn the wood and the knife makes shavings. His hands wrap around yours and guide you when you struggle or use improper technique. His chest slotted against your back as he hums softly, paying no mind to how flustered you’d get. When you finish your first lesson, you both show off the sculptures you made. He’s thoroughly impressed and praises whatever you decided to carve. Later, you find it on a table in his tent. The sight makes your chest tighten and heart soar. He loves you so utterly deeply.

He craves you so desperately it is almost amusing. Your touch, your voice, your presence. He doesn’t outwardly express it but there’s a certain air around him when you approach. His gaze softens as his chest puffs and he watches you expectantly. Despite all the lovers he’s taken in his years, you’d swear he looks like he’s fallen in love for the first time. He’s nearly whipped by you. No-one has seemed so enraptured by you before. Each word you speak he’s hung unto, he watches all your movements so closely. Halsin makes sure to wrap you tightly in his hugs. Both to show you that he loves all of you and to remind you of the fact he wishes to protect you. He knows his boundaries and doesn’t follow you like a lost puppy… but when you seek him of your own accord he’s utterly thrilled.

This man is a breeder. Don’t argue with me on it. He seeks all the thrills and pleasures of nature. Regardless of if you can or cannot get pregnant, he stuffs you so full that in your haze you are sure you’ll carry his kid. He tries so hard to be gentle with you and to some degree he is. His hands trail your skin softly like you were fine china. Though, he allows himself the pleasure of gripping your curves, dips and muscles. While he holds you so gently, you cannot say the same for where he’s pushing his length into. It’s vigorous- almost mind-numbing. He groans into your ear shamelessly and with the knowledge you find it attractive. If you’d let him, he’d give into his desires and fill you til he was sure he had nothing else left to give. He’d pick you up after and bathe you. Washing you of the forest dirt and sweat accumulated on your skin. All while whispering about how he adores you and you’ve done so well for him.

We all know he’s a munch/dick eater. It’s literally confirmed in his sex scene that he immediately goes down on you… and for that I will write for.

AFAB. He’ll hook a thigh over his shoulder and press his nose against the bump of your cunt. His tongue lavishes your clit in licks and suckles as his gaze remains heady on yours. If you can even look at him, that is. One hand trails on the leg you’re standing on before teasing your parted lips. He gathers your wetness and pushes a singular finger inside. He watches as your body tenses and relaxes from his ministrations. His tongue does not stop it’s assault. Then it’s two fingers, hooking and searching for the spot that he knows will make you abandon previous care. Once he finds it, you’re crying out to the woods. His large fingers practically abuse your walls as he sucks your clit like a madman. You began to whimper and shake in his hold. His strength became apparent when he pushes your hips against the tree to keep you still. To show that you cannot escape his pleasure and act of love. Pride swells in his chest and he keeps going until you’re shuddering in his hold. The coil in your belly snapping as hands fly down to grasp his hair, hips rocking against his face.

AMAB. There’s a smirk that engraves his face when he sees exactly how hard you’d gotten for him. His hands wrap around your thighs as he trails kisses along the skin of your stomach. Then, as soon as you open your mouth to protest, a kiss is placed on the tip. You tense and he begins to show your length some attention. One hand abandons your thigh to favor your sack, gently fondling as his kitten licks and kisses turn into something more intense. Lips wrapping around the head before taking you in one gulp. Your head throws back and your thighs quiver. Either he had tons of experience or you were simply smaller in comparison and he could do it with ease. Either way, the warmth of his throat is nearly overwhelming to your senses. He looks up between your legs when he could, bobbing his head as you began to melt into the pleasure. His nails gently scratched the skin of your thigh while his other continued it’s undivided attention to the sensitive skin of your balls. He continues like this, humming and suctioning around your cock until you either spill down his throat or pull him off of you. Either way, he has a cocky smile on his face as he wipes spit and precum from his lips.

Karlach

She is a very passionate woman. She burns bright, literally and metaphorically, and is a flame that will forever burn by your side. She is especially passionate about her companions and most importantly you. She supports you in nearly every decision you make and if she doesn’t agree, she tries to understand anyways. She’s loud and speaks so highly of you to those she meets. Almost like a mother showing off her kids accomplishments in life. She’d likely be such a good mother if she ever had that opportunity. Until you fix her mechanical heart she supports you with just words and actions. As much as she craves to pull you into her grasp or press her lips on yours, she’s a ticking bomb and is capable of hurting those. When you do fix it? She can barely keep her hands and lips off you. Ten years of forced abstinence nearly drove her MAD. While she doesn’t outright burn you, she’s so, so warm.

She loves jamming out. Dancing, playing an instrument, singing… it gives her an excuse to release her pent up energy. Bard or not, she gives you those puppy eyes and nearly begs you to join her. She’ll dance with you and wrap her arms around your waist or hold your hand as you two dip and twirl. Her laugh is an angelic sound and any reservations you held melted away in her intense heat and passion. She had a way of lighting the room up and bringing out the best in those around her. You admired her for it. She eventually slows the rhythm between you two and smiles against your skin (hunched over or not). She whispers against you, light and full of emotion. “You have no idea how thankful I am to have met you. I feel complete.” The breath you take is shaky as her words fill you with such fullness. This tiefling had wormed her way into your heart like the tadpole your mind. Except, this was a worm you wished to keep. You both would do anything for each other and you both knew it.

She absolutely seethes when anyone does you dirty. The girl is quite literally growling when someone hurts you emotionally or physically. Even a wrong look can have her hackles raising and her all pissed. You sometimes have to sit her down and remind her that you’re fine. She assures you’re safe and you appreciate it. After losing so much in her life, the control of her own body and mind, she cannot imagine losing you. Small threats alarm her and she feels guilty that she cannot contain her emotions. This time you assured her that you weren’t going anywhere because she was passionate and hot-headed. You two had your own issues… and she wants nothing more than to work through them together and be the biggest supporters for each other. She pulls you into a bear hug afterwards, nuzzling against your jaw as her horn tangles in your hair. She plants kisses along the skin til you’re laughing and the air is less tense between you two.

As much as she so UTTERLY wishes to touch you, she’s so touch deprived. You know that she needs the attention after she’s had her heart repaired. You lay her down on the ground and trail kisses from her lips down to her throat and to her chest. She watches you with an excitement. It appears as if she was ready to jump out of her skin from the pure joy of being able to enjoy the sensations of flesh once more. You pay extra attention to her breasts and nipples before continuing further down to her navel. At this point, she’s squirming and whimpering desperately. “Come on, babe. Don’t tease me. I need you- so badly..” Her tone was pathetic if anything. There was no true fight or bite in her words. She liked giving her submission to you for once, letting her mind shut down. You wished nothing more than to give her what she deserved after all this time.

Once you finally reach further south, your hands slot around her hips and hold them down as you plant a few kisses against the inner of her thigh. All the teasing between you two was so worth it when you hear the wanton moan escape her lips as your tongue finally met her most sensitive parts. The heat of her cunt was intense- just like the rest of her. It was nearly overwhelming… almost burning your tongue. Yet, you ached for that warmth. To finally enjoy her moans and provide her with such pleasure. She has claws in your hair, tugging and tickling your scalp. One hand on her chest as you begin a rhythm with your tongue against her clit. Once she was beginning to properly fall apart against your mouth, you released a hand from her hip and trailed betwixt her lower lips. Your fingers sought her warmth and was pleasantly surprised with how she burned even hotter inside. Truly a creature of the hottest hells. Yet, it didn’t quite burn you… certainly was a different sensation compared to the crisp air around you. You know that she’ll return this pleasure tenfold to you. It’s her nature… and you couldn’t wait til you two were properly intertwined later in the night.

[hischokehold]

tw: könig being the biggest pervert ever, watersports, anal, non-con.

Perv!König commiting the most atrocious, disgusting acts to you, his precious girl, knowing you'd let him get away with it♡

Perv!König who coerces you into bending over his desk, tight baby cunt sprawled out for him while he films you, telling you that it's normal for little girls like you to let their boyfriends inspect their privates "It's my right as a man, maus. Don't you trust me?"

Perv!König who only lets you wear skirts and dresses for easy access, slipping his thick, heavy cock in one of your tight holes whenever he so pleases.

Perv!König who gets hard over anything and everything that involves you, rubbing his clothed dick against your cunt like a dog in heat because he saw you sucking on a lollipop. And you don't get to complain, liebling. It's your fault for being such a tease! He can't help it! What's a man like him supposed to do when a pretty girl like you is practically begging to get fucked? You should be thanking him.

Perv!König who one day randomly drags you to the bathroom, yanking you down the toilet, and making you hold his flaccid cock as he pisses, angry red tip twitching as his urine dribbled down the bowl.

Perv!König who gently slaps your flushed cheeks with his dick. "Open wide, darling." His calloused thumb brushes over your cheeks, dragging over your plump lips to part them open. "What's wrong, maus? Don't wanna taste daddy's piss?" He chuckles as he squeezes out the remaining urine from his cock and inside your warm, wet mouth.

Perv!König who absolutely adores the utter confusion on your face, torn between disgust and pleasure. "Good girl. Takin' daddy's cock so well."

Perv!König who uses you as his personal little toilet, taking it upon himself to piss in all your holes, randomly yanking your panties to the side to piss in your cunny- don't think that tiny puckered hole is safe from him either. But you're just too tight for him at the moment maus, he's working on it.

Perv!König who comes home after a long, grueling day, body sheathed with sweat and musk. Then impatiently unbuckles his belt with his calloused hand, letting his big, heavy, musky cock fling free from their confines.

Perv!König who forcibly shoves your nose deep in his heavy balls, nostrils pressed against his pubes, keeping you trapped and smothered with his scent.

Perv!König who ruts his balls against your pretty face, "Oh fuck, takin' me so well, angel -fuck, didn't take you for a fuckin' ballslut." Deep, guttural grunts escape from his parted lips, head thrown back in pleasure.

Perv!König who forces his cock into yourunprepared holes, bouncing you on his dick like a fleshlight, ravaging your poor, tiny body.

Perv!König who can't help but utter words of assurance as he fills your fertile womb with his potent cum. "Love you so much, sweetheart. Did so well for me. Daddy's give you a reward for being so good, yeah?"

Perv!König who despite his vile acts is so so so irrevocably in love with you and gives you the best aftercare; preparing a bubble bath for you, washing your body and hair so tenderly, giving your dazed form little kisses to keep you from falling asleep in the tub. "Does it hurt anywhere?" You shake your head. "Nuh uh."- "Good."

Perv!König who spends the rest of the night making it up to you, drying your hair off and even putting you in his your favorite bunny pyjamas. "I love you, Kö." Shit. Your words make his heart skip a beat and he feels his dick harden in his boxers again. But he holds off, too focused on taking care of you.

Perv!König who takes you out shopping to do all your girly shit the entire day, going to your favorite brands; getting you a purse from prada, some dresses from Miu Miu, and of course, Victoria's Secret. A treat for both you and him. You do a little fashion show for him, twirling around all pretty. Which ended up getting you dicked down in the changing room, tits pressed up against the mirror while he covers your mouth with his big, veiny hands.

Perv!König whose face contorted to a pout when you scolded him for fucking you like that in public and nearly getting caught by the staff. It's okay! Even if you got caught he would've paid them to keep their mouths shut!

Perv!König who sighs happily when his darling clings to his arms, tired from the long day. He shifts the shopping bags to his left hand to hold yours, bending down to giving you a kiss on the forehead. "I love you, sweetheart."

[sttoru]

Toji and bath time with baby Megumi. That is all 🖤

mhm mhm i present to u the life toji deserves,

ෆ tags. dad!toji x female reader. toji being a good dad & bathing megumi on his own. fluff.

“hold on, buddy.” toji mumbles as he holds megumi in one arm, the other stretched out to dip his fingers in the water. he quickly checks the temperature of the filled tub and after confirming that it’s lukewarm, he moves on to kiss megumi’s cheek.

“mama said you’re a real crybaby if you get in alone, so daddy will join ya. consider yourself lucky, kid— i don’t do this just for anyone.” toji lets out a breathy chuckle at his own jokes. despite megumi being way too young to understand what toji was saying to him, the man still got a kick out of teasing and playing around with his son.

toji carefully gets into the tub, holding megumi in his hands and slowly lowering the small baby into the water. this causes megumi to kick his chubby legs around while squealing loudly. the drops of water splashed onto toji’s face and he shakes his head with a small smile because of his son’s actions, “hey, hey, easy now, kiddo.”

once megumi was settled in the tub, toji hums thoughtfully as his eyes dart around the bathroom, clearly trying to recall the instructions you gave him beforehand. he couldn’t really remember the order of the things you told him, thus he decides to freestyle this new experience of giving megumi his bath.

“oh, hold on.” toji gets an idea and reaches over the edge of the tub to the near counter, sliding open a drawer and grabbing a bottle of bath foam which he doesn’t even bother reading, “i’ve seen your mama put this in whenever she bathes you. it creates bubbles or somethin’ like that.”

toji pops the cap open and pours the fluid in the water. he doesn’t pour only a little, no, he pours a lot. “should be enough,” he shrugs and tosses the bottle aside, grinning down at megumi who was too engrossed at the way the clear liquid moved between his small fingers.

and it turned out that it was more than just enough in the end. in a couple seconds to a single minute, the entire bath was overflowing with bath foam— it even threatened to spill out of the tub. in a blink of an eye, megumi was gone and engulfed by a sea of bubbles. not that the little boy minded it; toji could hear a few curious babbles and saw his son’s fingers try to move the foam out of his face.

toji couldn’t help it and started laughing his ass off at the sight of megumi disappearing behind the wall of foam (totally not trying to help his kid at the moment). he hadn’t had a good laugh like that in days.

after calming down—though still wheezing a bit between words—toji finally pushed the foam aside and picked megumi up, also wiping away the possible bubbles that got into his eyes, “heh— c’mere, buddy. can’t let ya drown in those bubbles.”

megumi was holding onto his dad’s face, two tiny hands patting both of his cheeks while toji was clearing the foam from megumi’s body, making sure that nothing got into the boy’s eyes. once thoroughly checked, toji kept laughing a little, chuckling at the way megumi was just innocently staring back at him.

the poor baby didn’t even understand what had happened to him seconds ago, yet was still smiling and giggling once he saw how happy his dad was.

at that exact same time, you were passing by the closed bathroom door. the muffled laughter made you curious as to what was going on, though just by hearing the sounds of joy, it seemed like your husband and son were having a great time. the fact alone made a smile appear on your own face.

[ariestrxsh]

*˖ ݁𖥔.𓀏·:*¨༺ .♱.✮.♱. ༻¨*:·𓀏.𖥔 ݁ ˖*

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, use of handcuffs, use of butt plug, degradation, humiliation, rough blow job, first-time anal, dacryphilia, hair-pulling, double penetration, creampie, mean!roughdom!matt, mean!roughdom!chris

📝 author's note: 📝 this is part four of she thinks of me. 💖 here are parts one, two, and three. inspired by the fact that there's not enough dp in chratt fics. 🫦 there will not be any more parts to this

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Chris and Matt finally give you what you've been starving for - both of them at the same time.

*˖ ݁𖥔.𓀏·:*¨༺ .♱.✮.♱. ༻¨*:·𓀏.𖥔 ݁ ˖*

she thinks of me part four 💖

Matt drew me a bubble bath that night while I recovered from the intense session we'd just had, and he sat next to me on the ledge of the tub, caressing my cheek and looking in to my eyes.

The bath water was hot like the mug in my hands. Matt had made me a cup of chamomile lavender tea, and I sipped on it slowly while we sat in the candlelight.

"You know, there's one more toy I bought for you," he smiled at me. "What is it?" I asked, shifting around in my bath. This sparked my curiosity. What else could he possibly have bought? "You'll find out," he smirked at me. I glared at him while I held the mug up to my lips, taking another drink.

"You know, I love being in a relationship with you. I love the way you make me jealous and the way you keep me on my toes. I'd be bored if I were with anyone else," Matt told me under his breath while he brushed the back of his hand up against my face.

I was really happy to hear this, because until Matt and Chris had made this bet, there seemed to be a bit of passion lacking in the relationship, and it felt like this little arrangement we had going with Chris was breathing life back into our connection.

"I love you," I whispered, silently wondering what I did to deserve such an incredible man. "I love you, too," Matt responded warmly. "I can't get enough of you," I replied softly.

"Can't get enough of Chris either, huh?" He asked his voice saturated with lust. "It really turns you on, huh?" I questioned, biting my lip. Matt nodded.

"I mean, it's weird. At first, I was so jealous, but watching how good Chris made you feel.." Matt's voice trailed off. We could both feel the sexual tension in the air. It was strange how inviting Matt's brother into our sex life was bringing back the fervor into it, but we weren't going to question it.

He leaned in, and his lips enveloped mine into a deep kiss. Despite how tired I was and how many times I had finished earlier in the night, I felt myself full of desire again for both of them. "You're gonna love what Chris and I are going to do to you," Matt promised, and my mind swarmed with all the possibilities.

After my bath, I sat on the couch downstairs, completely naked, wrapped in a cozy blanket. Matt had told me not to even bother putting on clothes through his smirk before he'd gone to retrieve the last item he'd bought while he was out.

Matt and Chris reappeared in front of me a few minutes later. They were both in nothing but their boxers, and Matt was holding something behind his back. They both had shit-eating grins on their faces. "Why don't you bend over, sweetheart?" Chris cooed gently.

I shimmied out of the blanket and did what  Chris told me to do, laying my head on the armrest of the couch and sticking my backend up in the air. The anticipation was getting to me, desperately needing to know what they were going to do to me.

I heard the sound of the handcuffs from earlier, and I grew ever more excited as Matt grabbed both my wrists, pinned them behind my back, and clicked the restraints shut around them "This is gonna hurt for a minute, darling but I promise we're gonna make you feel so good," Matt promised, and I heard the sound of a lube bottle opening.

All of a sudden, I felt a lubed up pair of fingers teasing my hole - but not the one I was used to. I let out a pained sound while Matt poked and prodded around, beginning to stretch out my backdoor for the first time.

I'd expressed to Matt my curiosity about anal before, and he certainly never seemed opposed to it, but I didn't know it would be happening now and in front of Chris. A part of me was humiliated to have Matt exploring such a taboo part of my body, especially in front of his brother. The other part of me was dreaming about having both my holes filled at the same time by each of them.

Once I got used to Matt's fingers, I felt the tip of what felt like a butt plug lining up with my back entrance. He slowly started working it into my tight hole, and I let out a few sobs. "Shhh, it's almost all the way in, princess," Matt hushed me.

Finally, I could feel the toy all the way inside me, and I started to get a bit used to it. "Such a good girl for us," Chris whispered, coming around to the other side of the couch until he was in front of me. He grabbed ahold of my hair and yanked my head up so that my big eyes were locked on him.

I admired his body, how angelic he looked towering over me, and the way I could perfectly see the outline of his cock through his underwear. I could tell where this was going.

I heard the sounds of them both removing the last bit of their clothing, and my stomach did turns and flips as I felt Matt's tip brushing up against my sore cunt while the butt plug stayed in place.

Chris held his dick in his hand and gently pressed it up against my bruised lips, silently asking to be let in. I let him sink into my mouth while Matt sunk into my pussy, and the sensation of my new toy elevated the whole experience.

They both began thrusting in and out of my different holes, filling the room with their harmonic moaning. "Such a fucking slut. This is your dream, isn't it? Being used by us both at the same time?" Matt growled from behind me, and his words made me weak, but I couldn't answer him with his brother's cock stuffed into my drooling mouth.

I looked up at Chris, who was staring intently down at the way he disappeared behind my lips every time he'd rock his hips forward. The expression on his face gave away how much he was enjoying himself - his jaw was tensed, his lips barely parted, his blue eyes filled with need, and his eyebrows pulled together in a way that might have looked like concern or anguish in any other context.

I loved that Chris looked like that because of me. I loved the grunts that would escape his gorgeous, pouty, pink lips while he relaxed into his sexual desire. All while admiring how handsome Chris looked while I sucked him off, I could feel Matt's strong thrusts from behind, jerking me forward to take more of his brother's cock into my mouth.

"Fucking whore. Choke on it," Chris urgently whimpered while I started to gag on his length. His hands wandered into my hair, holding my head still so he could face fuck me again, but before he could get too carried away, Matt pulled himself out of me, and he removed my plug as well. "I want you to ride Chris' cock, sweetheart," Matt requested with his voice full of desire and lust.

Before I knew it, Chris was beneath me, my wrists still cuffed behind my back while I rode him, his hands tightly gripping my waist.

I thought I heard the sound of Matt opening the lube bottle again, but I figured I was imagining things until he said, "Stay still, you little slut," and I stopped bouncing up and down on Chris' length for a moment.

Then I felt it - Matt's tip brushing against my other hole. I sharply inhaled and let out a cry as he slowly pushed it in. The pain at first was excruciating, but Chris caressed my face, wiped away the tears that started to roll down my cheek, and hushed me as Matt entered me further.

"Take it all for me, baby. I know you can," Matt cooed. He took his time, allowing me to get used to him before sliding in another inch. The sensation was insanely powerful, the feeling of two men in my different holes, and not just any two men, but my incredibly hot boyfriend and his incredibly hot brother.

It felt like it took ages to acclimate to Matt's girth filling me from behind, but once it started feeling good, it was impossible to contain my satisfaction. My eyes rolled back, and my whines filled the atmosphere. They both moved together in unison, bucking their hips at the same fast and powerful pace, sending waves of pleasure through my whole body.

"You love getting fucked in the ass, don't you?" Matt grunted in a low voice, gripping your hips. "She loves it. She's our little cock slut," Chris whimpered.

"Love using all your holes, naughty girl," Matt breathed. "Poor girl. So dumb for our cocks, she can't even speak," Chris relayed in a faux sympathetic tone. Their hand placement, the way they spoke to me and about me, and their animalistic ways of fucking was enough to have me reaching the point of no return.

I started to tremble and loudly moan both of their names. My orgasm ripped me with incredible power like a force that couldn't be stopped. I felt myself clench around each of them while I rode out the rest of my climax.

They laughed at my desperation and high-fived each other as my pleasure washed over me. My legs grew weak as I struggled to hold myself up, but Matt and Chris steadied me on their cocks with their glorious hands running all over my body.

They both continued pounding away, chasing their own sexual satisfaction, but what they didn't know was how expertly they were hitting all my favorite spots over and over, and how I couldn't take it for another moment.

A second orgasmic feeling cascaded over me, the knot in my stomach coming unraveled and releasing all my pent up energy back into the air around us. The two boys penetrated my five senses, my thoughts, and all of my orificies.

In unison, both Matt and Chris started pumping each of my holes full with warm spurts of their white, sticky substances while they each called out my name. I could feel each of their dicks pulsing inside of me while they finished, loving every second of being filled by them each back-to-back.

And as they each pulled their cocks out of me, their cum started dripping out of me at both ends, and they both watched in awe at the messes they each made. "Look at that," Chris whispered, smiling at the sight before him.

"Fuck, naughty girl. I can't believe you let us both fill you up like that. Such a little whore for us," Matt smirked, releasing me from the handcuffs. "Thanks for letting me put it in your backdoor, princess. That was hot as fuck.."

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[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT BATHING WITH SIMON.

cw: fluff, comfort, slighty suggestive, established relationship, female and male anatomy, sleepy and soft simon, maybe slighty ooc simon because of his behavior, hard on, intimacy, kisses, bits of a clingy behavior, hints on sex. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

periodically, getting simon into the bath was a bit of a challenge, not because he was against showering on a schedule, but because he was terribly tired.

being at the base, running around on various missions that, at best, took several weeks, incapacitated any person, and he was no exception, especially once he finally returned home.

he was incredibly glad to return to the warmth of your common harbor only because he could finally rest, without unnecessary noise, without one open eye in case the enemy was unexpectedly close, without annoying and depressing experiences — just a soft bed, you, and your soothing scent.

the slight smell of cologne and ingrained gunpowder tickled your nose when simon buried a slightly uneven line of his nose into the back of your neck, blowing it with periodic warm sighs and thus tickling your skin, while his voluminous, heavy hand was thrown around your waist, literally pressing you into the place near him, he wasn't sleeping, at least not completely, at the moment he was just silently enjoying your presence.

you toss and turn, causing him to pull away from you with a slight dissatisfied growl so that you change your position, facing him when he was already in a hurry to bend down to bury his face in your chest, but you intercept him, the roar of chesty growls is heard throughout the room, frozen in the morning silence, while his light stubble pricks yours warm palms, and you lift his face, seizing the moment to examine his dirty blond hair, which would be nice to wash, his stubble has grown, gunpowder has eaten into his light eyelashes, turning them black to match his bottomless, equally dark brown eyes.

simon frankly doesn’t understand why you don’t let him rest, and you are driven by sincere concern when you stroke the line of his cheekbones, tracing the edges with your fingers and scratching him like a cat, forcing his already barely open brown eyes to close with fluttering eyelashes, snuggling into your warmth and comfort closer, looking for more affection, but you are in a hurry to interrupt him with a whisper from which he frowns, practically jerks back like a dissatisfied kitten, so incomparable to a strong soldier, but this is no less charming, because such a reaction is caused by one simple invitation — «need to clean up, si, you're home already second day and just sleep all the time, i can't even recognize my man anymore»

— «no wanna» he interrupts instantly, childishly leaving the warmth of your palms and immediately turning over to the other side, showing you his bare, wide, slighty pale back, a scattering of scars, barely noticeable moles, even freckles that seem to appear to the eye as a homely canvas when he folds his hands on his chest, slightly tensing his muscles, which immediately go limp when you giggle at his behavior, pressing closer, wrapping your arms around his torso and reverently leaving a warm kiss on the curve of his shoulder, feeling the tense muscles as if under the lips themselves.

— «come on, si, i'll help you, hmm? would make you a warm, bubbly bath, help you wash yourself, give a massage to those aching muscles of yours?» you mumble rather purring, quite seductively, running your fingers along the curve of his muscle and shoulder blades, practically tickling, and he is unable to deny the craving for the way you describe it, making him growl and rise, brushing the blanket off his hips and standing in nothing but in boxers, stretching on the corner of the bed.

— «bloody woman» the only thing he mutters, not at all out of resentment and hostility, but from the realization of how much power you hold over him, forcing him to overcome all laziness and fatigue in order to finally reach the bathroom, shuffling his feet on the floor not even in slippers, throwing open the door when you follow behind him, nothing more than giggling from gloating and his domesticated appearance, just like a lazy, well-fed cat, with crumpled strands of hair, a slight softness on the sides and belly.

the smell of scented bath foam and some kind of scrub caresses your nose with soothing smells when you sit with simon, settled in a slightly narrow, but at the same time comfortable bathtub, he reclines with his arms outstretched on both edges of the snow white ceramic, looking at you sleepily through the flutter of his light eyelashes when you gently rub his chest, washing everything thoroughly, sitting in front of him in a complete nakedness and focusing on his comfort as he traces your every move.

his muscles relaxed, the hot water doing its job of softening him while you rub the scrub into his rough, scarred skin, doing deep cleansing, and he doesn’t even resist or turn his nose, allowing you to absorb the sweetish aroma into him, making his skin completely soft to the touch, as if he had just been born, leaving his hairy chest and strong muscles to go lower and down to his legs.

simon lifts one leg, following your movement, allowing you to stroke it with a washcloth that was floating nearby, applying even more foam on top of the one that was already there, while he only followed with his eyes, looking at your naked breasts and wet nipples, covered with the same foam with warm water and unable to look away, starting to pull his hand, crumpling your hip under the water and pulling you towards him, making you squeak, losing focus — «simon! what's happening, love?»

he simply grumbles, arranging you on his lap to press closer to your wet, warm skin, outlining your waist with his heavy hands, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers with pleasure, burying his nose somewhere in the intersection of your shoulder and chest, limp and relaxed, without raising his head, to which you sigh and just stroke his shoulders, moving to the back of his head and going down to his neck, scratching and purring — «talk to me, si»

he remains silent, as if on purpose, continuing to breathe measuredly into the area of your collarbone and fidget with his lips against the soft flesh, before you feel his limp cock rise slowly, rubbing against your bodies and softly hitting his lower abdomen, straining slightly, thick veins run along the length of his hard cock, the tip slowly gets wet not only from water, but also from sticky precum, and now you understand his excessive clinginess to you, giggling quietly before kissing the top of his head.

he finally raises his head in response to the light touch of your lips to his wet hair, brown eyes look absolutely calm and puppy like, moving to softly kiss your breasts, while his slippery hands change position from your hips to your thighs, stroking, as if silently asking for green color and resolution to go further, but when you tsk, he snorts in disappointment, hitting his forehead against your ribcage.

— «no, si, first i continue to wash you, and then we'll see about this» you tut, taking up the stroke of the back of his neck again, sliding down his back with pressing fingertips, stroking and pressing on the tense muscles before he mumbles — «fine, love..» and lifts his head again, tilting it back along with his back, letting you move on to washing his hands, rubbing in the shower gel and a slightly tingling scrub, as simon's head tilts slightly to the side with quiet breathing, his eyelids growing heavier with a fleeting movement of blonde lashes before he settles into a sensual sleep, his slightly hairy chest heaves with each breath.

as long as you continue to groom him, focusing back on washing his body with the still hot water, moving slightly on his lap before scooping even closer, reaching out to stroke his wet hair and squeeze the shampoo into your palm, rubbing his scalp, massaging and scratching, causing him to growl contentedly and flutter his eyes, seems that he won't be able to continue other activities after such a bath.

[strang3lov3]

Bath & Body Works

Mall Rats 2! Can be read alone. But if you want-- read Mall Rats 1 here

Summary: You'll drag Joel kicking and screaming into your bubble bath if it's the last thing you do.

A/N: I am stoked about this one!

Warnings: smut, fingering, handjobs, oral sex (f receiving), rubber ducky, joel is extra cranky, dirty talk, forced bubble bath with a grumpy old man, soapy tiddies, rubber duckies, country apple scented bubble baths

WC: 3.2k

You’re going through your bag of goodies from your first trip to the mall with Joel. You’ve got your undies and bras from Victoria’s Secret, along with some candles and stuff from Bath and Body Works. 

You would have picked out more, but Joel was throwing a bitch fit about how you were taking too long to pick out body sprays and whatnot.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…just fuckin’ pick one already. They all smell like chemicals and girl. I’m gettin’ a migraine.”

“From all the smells?”

“No. You.” You ignored him and searched for body wash to match your body sprays and lotions. “C’mon. Shake a leg, sweetheart.”

“I need body wash. I can’t find it.”

“Here” Joel grabbed a random ass bottle, shoved it in your bag, wrapped his hand around your forearm and dragged your ass out of Bath and Body Works. “It’s all the same shit anyway.”

Now you’re pulling out that random ass bottle of what Joel had deemed as the same shit as body wash. And it’s not the same shit. At all. 

Relaxing Bath Bubbles

Country Apple 

Awh, shit. Guess you’re about to give Joel another migraine. 

You walk over to his house and knock on his door, your backpack full of your Bath and Body Works goodies. Rubber duckies too. You snagged them from a broken claw machine in the mall. 

Knock knock knock knock knock

“Joel, open up.”

You knock some more. Joel opens the door clad in nothing but plaid boxers, his eyes squinting and his hair wild. “The fuck do you want?”

“Need to use your bathroom,” you say. “Now. It’s an emergency.”

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Why? You know what, I don’t wanna know. Just make it quick.”

He’s perplexed, but he leads you to his ensuite bathroom anyway. He says Ellie’s bathroom downstairs is heinous. You enter the bathroom and shut the door, and Joel lays on his bed as he scribbles in his book of crossword puzzles.

The first thing you notice about Joel’s bathroom is how nice it is. Spacious, a deep and wide circular inset bathtub. How he scored this, you don’t know. You strip, leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor then fill up the tub with hot water. You toss your duckies in the water, dump some Country Apple bubble bath in the tub and watch the bubbles emerge, then light your Bath and Body Works candles and turn out the lights. 

The water is soothing and the bubbles smell nice. You lean back in the tub and relax, watching your little rubber duckies float through the bubbles.

Only when half an hour goes by does Joel realize something’s up. He’s been stuck on his puzzle for the last ten minutes and completely forgot that you’re in the bathroom. He shuts his crossword puzzle book in frustration, sets it on his nightstand and turns out the light in his room. 

The flicker of your candles through the cracks of the bathroom door catches his eye. Confused, he decides to investigate. He’s about to knock on the door when he hears a splash. 

Joel doesn’t have time for this. He barges in to find you soaking in his tub, surrounded by candles and rubber ducks. He looks like he’s gonna have a conniption fit.

“Oh, finally,” you say excitedly. “Been waiting for you.”

Irritated doesn’t even begin to describe the expression on Joel’s face at how shockingly cavalier you are about bathing in his tub. “The fuck are you doing in here?”

“Using your bathroom.” 

“You said it was an emergency.”

“Correct,” you reach for the bottle of apple scented bubble bath and toss it to Joel. “Emergency indeed.”

“We need to go over what constitutes an emergency, then. Because this shit is not an emergency. Not in the slightest.”

“It is, actually,” you counter. “That’s bubble bath. Not body wash. They are not the same.”

 Joel looks at you and he’s not sure which of you has a screw loose, but clearly something’s not right here. You fill one of your rubber duckies with water and squirt him on his tummy “The fuck is the matter with you?” he snaps. Joel snatches the toy from your hand and tosses it behind you, so you fill another ducky with water and squirt him again. “Get your ass out of my tub and go home.” 

“Take it up with Tommy. My tub’s broken. He said he’d fix it but he never did. He said to use yours.”

“Tommy did not say that.” 

“You weren’t there. You don’t know.”

“You know what? M’not doing this. Out. Now,” Joel takes a step forward and reaches his arm through the bathwater to find the drain stopper. You grab hold of his arm, biting your bottom lip as you smile mischievously. Joel glares at you. “Don’t.”

You squeeze his forearm tighter and pull with all of your might. Joel tumbles forward into the bath, water splashes over the edge of the tub and floods the floor below. Joel emerges from the water gasping. “God bless it,”  and pushes his hair out of his face, then wipes his eyes and turns to you. The look on his face pierces daggers right through you. 

In a ballsy move, before he can stand up and step out of the tub, you slide over and sit your ass on his lap. You lean back to force him against the edge of the tub. “That’s better,” you say. “Need you to be my pillow. Your tub’s uncomfortable as fuck.”

“Not gonna be your anything. Get the fuck out of my tub or so help me god I will–”

“Joel, shut up. I’m trying to relax. And you should too, because you’re kind of a crankerpuss.”

Joel scowls. “Do not call me that.” 

“Well, you’re being very hostile right now.”

Oh, he’ll show you hostile alright. You don’t know the first thing about hostility. Joel’s about to pick you up and throw your ass out of the–

Nope. Bad idea. 

It’ll make an even bigger mess on the floor. You’re not worth the water damage. And then you’ll slip and fall, crack your skull open and there’ll be blood everywhere. Hiding the body will be Joel’s next step and he’s not in the mood for that. And of course, inevitably, you’ll knock over one of your candles and set Joel’s bathroom ablaze. 

So Joel shimmies off his boxers and tosses them over the edge of the tub. They land with a wet plop. He leans back with you still on his lap, accepting his fate as your human pillow. 

“Isn’t this nice?” you ask sweetly.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Shut up.”

So you quiet down and settle against Joel’s torso as best you can. Except as the minutes pass, he still won’t relax. He’s stiff as a board. His hands are in fists, resting on either side of his thighs. He’s practicing his deep breaths and going over the serenity prayer in his head. Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

“You seem tense,” 

“Mm,” Joel says. “Wonder why. What a mystery this is. I’m stumped, truly.”

“You tend to run hot. You know. Short fuse,” 

“You tend to drive me fuckin’ nuts,” he counters. You scoop up some bubbles in your hand, and Joel grabs your wrist and shoves it back underwater. “Knock it off. S’not playtime.”

You turn so you’re facing Joel and straddled on his thighs. You lift up on your knees, reaching behind Joel to grab a couple of towels. You drive him nuts, but at least he’s getting a nice view of your soapy tits. Pros and cons. 

You fold the towel and set it behind Joel to support and cushion his neck. “Is this nicer?” you ask. 

“It’d be nice if you weren’t here. See enough of ya already.”

“Get used to it,” you reply. “Got a whole lotta mall left to explore.”

“Don’t remind me.”

You don’t bother responding. Instead, you reach for a rag and a bar of soap and begin to lather it. You lift Joel’s arm up and begin scrubbing his skin gently. 

“Quit it,” he snaps, yanking the rag from you. “Washed earlier.”

Your feelings are a little hurt and you frown. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“Don’t need you to be nice to me. Need you to get out of my house. Now finish your bath.”

You grab the bar of soap again, this time without the rag. You lather it between your hands and reach for Joel’s arm once more, this time putting more emphasis on massaging him and less on cleaning.

This, he seems more receptive to. He lets out a little sigh and his head falls back on the towel you folded for him. You massage down his arm, letting your fingers squeeze and work his biceps, then his forearm, the palm of his hand and even his fingers. Your hand accidentally nudges his half hard cock, but he doesn’t startle or move you away. 

You’re thinking about his cock. You haven’t really seen it, hardly felt it. In a seamless transition, your hand leaves Joel’s and you reach between your bodies to play with his member. He grows hard with your touch, you can feel it. In your palm, he’s thick, heavy, and long. You trace your finger over the prominent vein that climbs up his length. 

Joel sighs and reaches for your hand that’s working his shaft. “What are you doin’,” he sighs. 

“Rub-a-dub-dubbing you.”

You think your eyes deceive you as a flicker of a smirk graces Joel’s face. It’s gone in an instant, but you saw it. You’ll have to alert the media. 

“Charming,” he mumbles. 

You continue massaging his member. You’re thankful that the bubble bath led you to this moment here with Joel, but disappointed that the bubbles are hindering your view. You slide your hand up and down, letting your thumb swipe over his swollen tip. 

“Feel good?” 

“S’good, honey. Yeah, so fuckin’ good. Keep it up.”

Joel’s leaning into it now. Melting like a candle. Eyes fluttered shut, lips slightly parted as a symphony of curses and pretty noises escape his mouth.

“Fuck, darlin’. Squeezin’ me s’good.”

 His chest is rising and falling unsteadily. The flickering candlelight bounces off of his skin and gives his face a warm glow. He’s got both hands on the globes of your ass cheeks, sliding over the expanse of skin. Up your waist and down your thighs, loving every inch of your body. 

You lean forward and hold onto his shoulder with your free hand while you stroke him with your other. You dip your head lower to kiss and nip at his jaw and neck. His skin is warm and fragrant like the bubble bath. 

One of Joel’s hands slither between your bodies and he cups your mound. His fingers reach lower to trace lazy circles into your clit. You pump him faster as he plays with you, soft breaths and groans falling from his lips. “Y’got it, sweetheart. Just like that. Just like–ohh, fffuck.”  He squeezes your ass tight as he finds his release, his body tensing and twitching under your touch. He lets out deep and guttural groans, music to your ears. 

He’s coming down from his high, still mindlessly tracing your pussy with his thick fingers. You’re watching as his breathing slows. He’s finally relaxed. And they said it couldn’t be done!

And just then, one of your little rubber duckies floats between you and Joel. The duck wears a mischievous smile. It’s like it’s thinking what you’re thinking. 

Subtly, oh so subtly, you reach for the ducky and squeeze it, then open your fist slightly and let it fill up. Joel’s eyes are still closed and he’s breathing peacefully as you hold the duck level with his face. You squeeze the ducky once more, and a thin stream of water squirts from the duck’s beak and onto Joel’s cheek. Got his ass. 

Joel opens his eyes slowly, his previously soft expression now harsh and irritated. Joel reaches for the duck. “You squirt me with that thing one more time…” he takes it from your hand, “Watch what happens.”

You bite back a smile. 

“Keep it up,” Joel growls. “Now sit back down and spread your legs. Water’s gettin’ cold.”

He’s got a soft spot for you, believe it or not. His brain is telling him to kick your country apple scented ass out the door, but his heart’s telling him to let you stay a while longer. He is a gentleman with principles, after all. A lady should always finish. 

“Wider,” he says. “Open up.”

He uses his strong, masculine hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart, but he doesn’t have to do anything. You oblige to his request immediately. He toys with your clit, circling and swirling his fingers over the sensitive bud before dipping his middle finger inside of you and chuckling. “Hmm,” he hums. “Selective hearing.” “What?”

“Nothin’,” he mumbles. “Just think it’s funny how ya only listen t’me when you’ve got my hand or my cock between your thighs.”

You answer him with a soft moan and scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as he pumps his finger inside you, feeling how warm and wet you are. 

“So this is what it’s gonna take, hmm? To get you to be a good girl for me?”

“More,” you breathe. 

Joel inserts a second finger and you gasp. “Jesus, girl. M’gonna get carpal tunnel tryna get you to behave yourself.”

“Carpal what-el?”

“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl. S’nothin’.”

You whimper as his thumb swipes your clit and his fingers pump inside you. You hold his shoulders for stability as you grind your pelvis against his palm, rocking the water all over the place, over the tub. The waves bounce high and into Joel’s mouth, he’s annoyed as he spits out some bubbles. You may have overfilled the tub. 

“Y’need to sit still,” he says. “Makin’ a goddamn mess.”

“Sorry,” you rasp.

But the splashing continues. Joel gets an idea then. He pulls his hand away from your core. 

“No,” you whine. “Don’t stop, Joel, please–”

“Lookit that, usin’ your manners. Bein’ so nice,” Joel praises you. “You’re fine,” he coos softly. “Not goin’ anywhere. M’right here with you.”

Joel adjusts a few towels on the tile surrounding the tub, making a nice little bed for you. He lays you on the towel, watching as beads of water fall from your body and your legs dangle in the tub. He pulls you close, then licks one long stripe up your pussy.

“Yeah, that, keep doing that,” you beg.

“Not plannin’ on stoppin,” Joel chuckles, his low voice sending vibrations through your sex. “Gonna take my time with your sweet pussy.”

Joel does just that. He licks from bottom to top, top to bottom. He tastes every inch of you, from your slick folds to your clit and back down to your entrance. He flattens his tongue wide against you, lapping at your cunt and savoring the taste of your arousal. He loves the sinful, wet noises your pussy makes. 

You tug on Joel’s wet strands of salt and pepper hair, pulling him as close as you can get him. “I know, gorgeous. I got ya,” he whispers. 

Joel pushes two fingers inside you once more, this time curling them upward to find that sweet spot inside you. You kick your legs, splashing even more water than before. You’ve got an iron grip on his damp curls, twitching and shuddering with every flick of his tongue and sending water flying. 

This whole eating you out to keep you from flooding the bathroom thing didn’t go as planned. But Joel’s a trooper. He’ll soldier on and mop up your mess later. He firmly grips the area behind your knees, lifting your legs from the water and pushing them apart. They sit high at your hips, he has you in a vulnerable position. He devours you and holds you close with a certain tenderness, and you know you’re in good hands. 

“Mmmm,” you moan. “S’good, fuck.”

“Got a dirty mouth, hon. You know that?”

You do know that, but you can’t respond. The only thing you can do is whimper and make those sweet, sweet noises that Joel loves so much. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises, sweetheart.” he whispers as you squirm against him. He holds you tighter, keeping you still as he brings you to the edge. His fingers and tongue working relentlessly to make you dizzy.

“Gonna, fuck. M’gonna come, Joel. Please, please–” 

“Come on my tongue,” Joel tells you. “Let go f’me. Give me a good one, sweetheart. Wanna taste it. Wanna taste all of you.”

With his words and ministrations inside you, along with his tongue dancing on your clit, you dissolve under him. Pure pleasure courses through your veins, beginning deep in the pit of your stomach and washing over you, your torso and thighs. Joel’s name is the only word you know at this moment. You sing it like a hymn, worshiping the man who makes you see stars. 

Your head feels fuzzy. You’re hardly aware that Joel’s now kissing his way up your body, over your tummy and your ribcage. He kisses one of your breasts, then the other. He flicks his tongue over one nipple and lightly pinches and twists the other. “Didn’t get to give these tits of yours enough lovin’,” he mumbles. 

It’s touching. He’s such a good lover, but such a forgetful man. Guess what’s sitting right next to you.

Yup. Rubber ducky. 

Joel’s still kissing and massaging your tits, and you quietly reach for the duck. You squirt him right between the eyes. 

Joel snatches the toy from your hand. “Where do you keep finding these fuckin’ ducks?!”

You shrug and giggle, then Joel pulls away from you. He pulls the drain stopper, then dries you and himself off with fresh towels. “Alright,” he says. “You had your bath and then some. Get lost.”

You pout. “You’re not gonna walk me home? It’s late.”

“Nope.” Joel bites his cheek, knowing he’s not actually gonna kick you out to walk home alone. You’re making him soft, and he hates it. “Fine,” he concedes. “Get in bed.”

You giggle and make your way to his bed, watching Joel mop up your mess in the bathroom. He blows out the candles and returns to you. “M’way too fuckin’ nice to ya,” he grumbles. 

“Eh,” you shrug. “Could be nicer.”

Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed! Send me asks! Your interaction means the world and keeps me going!

Part 3

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[literaila]

kid megumi and gojo definitely took bubble baths together while megumi washes his hair and satoru's just yapping about how much he loves reader

“megumi,” gojo says, not even bothering to knock on the door.

it’s the boys fault, really, for leaving it open in the first place.

megumi stills, brows furrowing as his hands stop foaming the soap in his hair. “gojo?” he asks, a bit disbelieving.

he might be going crazy—it’s not uncommon for sorcerers. and megumi barely thought he would make it to fourteen and here he is, so. he should probably tell someone about the hallucinations but—

“you got it,” gojo answers, predictably, sitting on the toilet seat. “i need to talk to you.”

megumi peaks his head around the shower curtain slowly, blinking a few times to make sure the man is really there.

but he is, grinning at the tiny bit of megumi he can see, tapping his fingers on his knees obnoxiously.

megumi points a hand towards the door. “this is an invasion of privacy.”

“megumi,” gojo gives him a bland look. “i’ve seen you naked.”

“that’s creepy.”

gojo sighs, hanging his head. “we’ve known each other for so long now, and you still don’t trust me.”

“you still haven’t given me a reason to. can’t this wait? or not happen? i don’t want to talk to you.”

yes, megumi is still hanging halfway out of the shower. yes, his hair is dripping water on the floor. no, he does not care—it’s gojo’s house anyway. he can fix the ruined floorboards.

“it’s about your mother.”

at that megumi blinks. “what’d you do?“

“i didn’t do anything.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, i’m sure,” gojo scoffs, reaching out to pull his ear—which megumi expertly deflects (he almost slips and dies in the process). “am i crying on the floor right now?”

megumi considers it. then he recalls the last time you and gojo had a fight. he had to check gojo’s pulse every time he walked past the couch.

“good point. what is it?”

“as you know, her birthday is coming up—“

“are you serious?”

“megumi.” gojo’s eyes are dubious, his voice is disapproving. “your mothers birthday is very important.”

megumi rolls his eyes. “i know. i mean, are you seriously asking me about this right now? im in the shower. there’s shampoo in my hair.”

gojo nods very seriously. “it’s the only place she won’t hear.”

“she’s not even home.”

“she’s hidden cameras, megumi, i know it.”

“no she hasn’t.”

gojo pouts. “i want it to be a surprise. she always finds out about her gifts before i can give them to her.”

“that’s because you tell her.”

“the suspense is too much. i need you to buy her something for me and hide it so i don’t know what it is.”

he sounds absolutely serious, which might be the worst part of that request, actually.

and when has megumi ever done gojo a favor?

“gojo,” megumi gives him a little smirk, tilting his head. “i’m not doing that.”

gojo groans, falling onto the floor. “c’mon, megumi, we’re supposed to be friends.”

“you’re my teacher, if anything.”

“and your father,” he juts his chin, “favoritism is not cute.”

“good.”

megumi finally turns around. gojo was never going to leave, even if he’d attempted to tackle him out of the door.

and he’s used to this, anyway. there hasn’t been a day in seven years that he’s gotten some peace.

“okay,” gojo begins again, sounding like he’s won—which he hasn’t. “i was thinking some jewelry, but you know how picky she is. and besides, she’s too rough for something small. tsumiki is already getting her that chibi mug we saw in that corner store last weekend, and whatever you’re getting is off of the table too.”

“i’m not listening to this.”

“i could take her out to dinner, but that’s not a gift. and i do that anyway. maybe i should buy her a car—what kind do you think she’d like? something blue, like my eyes—“

megumi groans.

gojo pauses. “did you get soap in your eye?”

honestly, banging his head against the wall might be better than this. at least they have pain killers at the hospital.

megumi doesnt answer, no longer entertaining this, but gojo continues anyway.

“maybe we should re-do the bathroom, you know how she’s always saying that—“

god, when will it end?