#please read the voice lines they took so long to write </3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dernier-mystere · 2 months ago

Text

! SPOILER WARNING FOR 2.5 UPDATE! READ WITH CAUTION ! summary: the yaoqing trio returns back to the yaoqing, though things are a little different, being an alchemist in the alchemy commission, you receive the instructions and diagnosis from the cauldron master of the luofu, lingsha, about jiaoqiu's condition and what needs to be prepared for him and his treatment plan. despite being someone who worked a few times with the healer, you find yourself assigning treatments to him for once, despite his stubbornness and negligence when it came to his own health. pairing: jiaoqiu x alchemist!foxian!reader (afab) warnings: slight gore, injury descriptions word count: 3.4k a/n: how are we feeling jiaoqiu fans? a mess? :,) me too <3 so we need some comfort yes <3 the idea is based on an idea oc that was an alchemist and as the xianzhou yaoqing is mostly foxians, it makes sense right? hope you enjoy it <3 sorry for the medicinal rambling too! sorry if this may seem ooc, I feel so rusty with writing these days... ^^; I plan to write some proper fluff, I apologise this isn't lovey dovey, if anyone has suggestions please send them please support me by following or sharing! it's much appreciated! <3 twitter/x: @derniermystere ao3: Dernier_Mystere

The diagnosis was almost painful to read, you knew the trio was reckless, and a part of you thought it would be the Merlin’s Claw that would come back with the injuries, not Jiaoqiu. Even Moze who lingered in the shadow of the General had his incident report of injuries, most of the events that had occurred on the Luofu remained on the hush, so unfortunately, it left you and numerous other healers in great distress when the commission received the outpatient details and care instructions for the pink-haired foxian. Toxins in the wounds have caused surrounding flesh to decay and atrophy… acute shock from severe blood loss…? Disturbed blood circulation from Tumbledust results in disturbed blood circulation, massive internal bleeding, neurological atrophy and optic neuropathy, leading to… blindness. These were just a few lines written in his injury reports, you felt your eyelids flicker in concern at the words, each description made your lips crease further into a frown, your heart wavering as you could only imagine the pain he would’ve struggled with in that short period, not only ingesting a lethal amount of Tumbleweed but also baring the injuries sustained by the Borisin Warhead, Hoolay. Not to mention there were found traces of Lupotoxin still present in his bloodstream, in short, he danced on the thin line between life and death, a second too late, and he would have died an agonising death.

As you sat in the cool room of your examination office, the rhythmic ticker a counterpoint to the steady hum of the medical equipment in the room still trying to convince yourself how Jiaoqiu remained in such good spirits, and oddly with a good appetite despite his situation… his calmness and sly exterior made you fear the worse, after all, he hid a lot of his emotions, using his fox-like smile as a mask to pretend all was fine, even if inside he could have been begging for a semblance of hope. Your e/c gaze flickered up to the Foxian who hummed softly, sitting on the examination table with a Gaiwan* in his hands, as he curiously took in a whiff of the scent of the tea, swirling it occasionally in his hand as he tried to depict what herbs were in it. “Not much to say honestly, I feel quite fine besides the fact, I have been told not to eat spicy food… it’s truly a torturous treatment,” his voice was calm, yet the mention of not being allowed to eat his favourite food made him click his tongue, one of his long ears flicking in annoyance, “But, other than that, I am quite alright,”

Your eyes squinted as you observed him talking to the pot plant in the corner of your examination room while you were seated on the other side of him, yet… you felt your insides soften that, he was still adjusting to his new condition after all. “Master Jiaoqiu, you know ingesting amounts of spicy food will only increase inflammation of your wounds.” You spoke softly, choosing not to comment further that he was talking to the plant rather than yourself. Jiaoqiu’s ears flicked in your direction rapidly, as he quickly adjusted himself to face the direction your voice came from, acting as if he knew the whole time you were seated there, it made you softly giggle in amusement as you slowly lit a stick of Dreambranch Incense in the office, in hopes of providing calmness to the mind during his routine follow up examination.

“You always say you’re quite alright to avoid unnecessary long appointments, who dropped you off today? Was it the Merlin’s Claw or Moze?” You teased, prepping the small station beside him with all the necessary tools and treatment needs. Jiaoqiu’s tail flicked in annoyance as he crossed his arms, followed by a tiny pout on his lips, “I will have you know, no one dropped me off, Thank you.” His tone was almost childish and petty, “I came as instructed by the Cauldron Master of the Luofu, nothing more than a routine check-up.” He clarified, yet the creases in his brows seemed to convince you further that someone made him actually arrive at his scheduled appointment. “For a healer, Master Jiaoqiu… you should always look after yourself before treating others.” You commented, your fluffy tail swaying behind you in amusement as you spoke, enjoying the small amount of petty banter with the Foxian healer who had left the field a while ago now. Being a long-life species, a mere few years seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, but when one formed friendships or any kind of relationship when they left or moved on, it felt as if they had left for centuries, this was no different to Jiaoqiu. His sassy nature and his usual greeting with a cunning smile were oddly something you missed, but deep down, you knew the losses on the battlefield tore and ate away at his heart, leaving nothing but emptiness, a path of Nihility to creep in. Some days, you found yourself sitting on the stairs of the commission, looking at the fake night sky of the Yaoqing, wondering if your research and treatments meant really nothing in the end. Countless patients slipped between your fingers like sand, no matter how hard you tried to grab the delicate granules, it would still slip through. The many nights where you prayed to Lan or any aeon to hear your pleas and silent begs to help a young patient that was slowly succumbing to the effects of Mara, the way their limbs twisted un-naturally, root-like appendages growing from his body like a deformity as they slowly lost their mind day-by-day, yet none of them cast their gaze on you or your pleads… they always replied in a numbing silence. You felt his pain… you sympathised with his feelings for those who were lost in battle… You could treat a thousand patients, but what was the point if they returned to the battlefield and lost their lives in the end… was their sacrifice in vain? These were the many questions that went through your mind on a daily, and something you assumed most alchemists thought.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you shook your head to dismiss the darkening thoughts, you forced yourself to read over the letter submitted by Lingsha. As written in his treatment plan, you were to clean his wounds with Pathovore bugs, before applying liberal amounts of medication and dress them up firmly. As well as take a deeper examination of his blindness and relay any suggestions to her for possible treatments of his blindness. “Well, I know you want this to be done quickly, so I will start with the treatment of the wounds, Master Jiaoqiu, then if possible, I would like to examine your eyes…?” You asked hesitantly, your h/c ears pinning back against your head as you cautiously asked him, you honestly didn��t know why you were nervous, it was your job… but he had only recently just lost his vision, was it a touchy subject? Or maybe would flat-out refuse and say it was nothing.

Jiaoqiu simply remained silent as he continued to hold on to the delicate clay cup, he gave the tea one last sip before he gently pressed the edge of his hand along the surface of the table to confirm he could safely place his cup upon it, “Why are you concerned, Y/N? it’s your job after all. Do what you need. For once, I am simply the patient, and you’re my healer now, are you not?” He spoke up, turning to face in your direction, though you could hear the slight hesitation laced in the last few syllables of his words but you slowly nodded in reply, not that he could see it.

The initial examination was rather simple, you had to look over his wounds, the deep lacerations on his chest, the state of his collarbone, checking him for any signs of Lycanthropic symptoms which came in the forms of excessive hair growth, elongation of the canine teeth, hostility (namely to Foxians) and a heightened increase of Lupitoxin which are evident in a blood rage. Further examination of his red blood cell, Platelets and the protein count in his plasma, to gauge how well his blood would coagulate over time, while the effects of consuming Tumbledust has significantly lowered the count, he was slowly making progress as there were some improvements. While it wasn’t much, it was better than none…

“So far, you seem to be on the road of recovering… slow, but I am sure we can get there eventually, there has been a minimal increase in your plasma counts, and platelets, but not much to say you can return to handling sharp objects… I am hoping you’re not, Master Jiaoqiu, and you have no signs of Lycanthropy so that rules out any further conclusion of you becoming a borisin.” You explained, all while scribbling on his patient forms that would be sent back to Cauldron master Lingsha, and further approval by Head Alchemist on the Yaoqing, Yingyue. “With this, I would like you to be placed on a higher dose of anti-inflammatories, to help reduce the swelling in your wounds. That, or need I remind you that you are not to ingest spicy foods, Master Jiaoqiu.” You slowly raised a brow at him as he turned to you, pulling out his fan that was underneath his alchemy commission uniform that he had removed so you could treat his injuries. He delicately fanned himself a few times, before hiding his lips behind the coloured feathers.

“I would never betray the doctors’ words, no knives or spicy food here. Are you insinuating that your patient ingested spicy foods? Y/N you wound me… I would never,” He stated with a cunning smile pulling at his lips behind that fan, his tail swaying behind him as he took in the results of his examination. “But is it really my fault that Moze had hotpot, I couldn’t turn down such a request, even Feixiao was there.” He soon added, nodding his head innocently as his ears twitched in your direction.

“So you did have Spicy food, is that what you're telling me?” You pressed, raising a brow as he kept fanning himself, concealing his smile.

“I never said that, I just said that Moze might have offered it to me. But as such a good patient, I never touched a drop. I instead had to sit and watch my so-called friends enjoy a hotpot in front of me, it was quite cruel, really…” His fluffy ears drooped down, as he dramatically acted as if it had taken a toll on him that he couldn’t have some. Your expression fell into a deadpanned glare as he kept innocently fanning himself, humming all innocently, you knew that this sly foxian had made the hotpot himself and threw the blame at Moze to get off any kind of lecture. You feigned a sigh in defeat as you allowed him to win at his little game, “Alright, whatever the patient says… but know your slight increase of white blood cells, and redness on your laceration tells me otherwise,” You simply pointed out as you began working on removing the now loosened bandages around his shoulders and chest, you had seen your fair share of injuries and wounds, but the deep claw marks along his chest with lingering parts of decaying flesh seemed to leave a deep pang in your heart… reading about his injuries were bad enough, but seeing them in person was just as bad.

The audacity he had as he simply hummed in reply and with a nonchalant shrug, “I have no idea what you’re insinuating here, doctor,” He added, placing his fan down to reveal that sly fox-like grin, as he lifted his head proudly, more so that you could work on his wounds better. But upon sensing your concern with his wounds, Jiaoqiu slowly fell into silence as he turned away, “This is nothing. I can handle this, there is no need to look at me with… pity.”

You felt an all-familiar annoyance stir inside you as if small flicking flames lapped at the insides of your chest as your movements slowed down, “It isn’t pity… it was concern Jiaoqiu when the incident reports were handed to us, it was worrying… especially when there was no news or context from the Luofu. I knew something was covered up, and it involved Hoolay, something for sure went wrong… it may not be my place to ask what happened, but… You shouldn’t bare yourself to a wolf's fangs… and ingest Tumbleweed… even if you had a plan.” you whispered, gripping the bundle of bandages in your hands that you had removed, “You could have died, then what-”

“I would have died fulfilled and content, Y/N.” He cut her off, a heavy sigh ruminating from his chest as he still refused to face you entirely, his brow furrowing in annoyance as he refused to accept your concern for him.

“Would you really say that?” You pressed, your shoulders slouching as you continued to remove the last of the bandages to fully observe the wound in its entirety. Yet unlike before, you weren’t phased, instead, your heart simply felt like it was crumbling at his words. However, Jiaoqiu remained silent when you pressed him, his ears folding back a tad, it was a sign that you were right in some way. Despite the deafening silence, you continued to work on him, applying the Pathovore Bugs onto the rotting parts of his wounds, all while she delicately ran her scalpel over the unhealthy flesh to promote excess skin growth. Jiaoqiu grunted softly, leaning back onto his arms as he tried to push himself through the uncomfortable sensation, he didn’t want to be seen as weak or vulnerable, even though he was the one knocking on death's door. Yet his stubbornness to admit anything or the fact that for once he required treatment was unyielding, even when he was in pain.

The silence continued to hover between them, once playful banter turned to a darkened cloud of tension, but, Jiaoqiu managed to face Y/N once more, parting his lips as he tried to find the words to say something, “Why do you care so much. Don’t they say laying your life out on the path of the hunt is a blessing…?” He managed to whisper out, his voice almost weak and one could even say vulnerable. Y/N glanced up, but unlike the look of annoyance or a frown, she offered him a compassionate gaze, “We are both healers, different kinds sure, but in the end, we are here to help those in need. I know you have lost many patients, as have I… I may not have been through or seen what you have on the Front Lines… but we share the same burdens of what we do is the right thing…” Your voice was soft, yet anyone could hear the way your words seemed to break through the ragged breaths you took in as you tried to formulate each word with sincerity, “But… we… no, you shouldn’t allow yourself to go through such measures… General Feixiao is already strong on her own, and your patient can only go as far as they can if their healer is also healthy, I have seen too many people die over nothing to claim they did so in the name of The Hunt… but it felt like they were throwing themselves away.”

You gently removed the bugs, placing them in a glass beaker as you kept talking, “As I said… I don’t know what happened on the Luofu… but I know, you shouldn’t have risked yourself at such a high stake. There is always an alternative, another way to do things, picking the dangerous path isn’t always the right way.” You whispered, head now falling downwards as your ears drooped once more. You had seen so many soldiers come back from the battlefields injured and proclaiming proudly that if they died, they did so for The Aeon Lan, but, it more so felt like they were throwing themselves at the denizens of Abundance without another thought of a better strategy. Y/N slowly bit on her bottom lip as she continued with the treatment by applying liberal amounts of the ointment onto his wounds, before securely wrapping them up in bandages.

During the quiet moment as Y/N worked, Jiaoqiu found himself sighing once more, shaking his head as his expression softened slightly to that of contentment. “You might have been right, I could have found another way… but I made it, did I not?” He replied in a lighter tone, even if you swatted his side with the flick of your fluffy tail, “You’re just as reckless as the Merlin’s Claw, she is rubbing off on you. You know… there would be a lot of people upset if you had died… I am sure even Moze would be upset in his way… you may have been fulfilled as you say, but what about the others that care for you?” you added, making sure that each one of his wounds was fully covered, before you soon sat back in your chair, your mind also wanted to add ‘what about me?’ yet, you didn’t. The Foxian offered you a sad smile, as he turned to the direction of the pot plant, “You’re not wrong, Y/N.” He reluctantly whispered, his voice holding a sense of vulnerability yet again, each word spoken like a prayer, with an ear twitch he turned back to you, this time with a more genuine smile.

“I am sure you would have been deeply hurt. To think during your training you said you hated me and my spicy food you could smell from a mile away…” His demeanour shifted to his usual self, sly and jabbing, which seemed to stir you up, evident as your tail swished around in annoyance as you finished up with his wounds, giving him the space he needed to change back into his clothes. “Stop being snarky… you seriously need to take better care of yourself.” You huffed as you turned to clean your instruments, all while he resumed fanning his delicate face once more, his soft pink hair flowing with each motion of his fan as he continued that same mocking smile. “I know. I can’t promise anything.” He hummed, for once he spoke truthfully, “But, I will do my best, I have no guarantees.”

“That's all I wanted to hear, Jiaoqiu.” Your shoulders eased up and relaxed at his words, her heart feeling ever so lighter.

“You know, you dropped the formalities halfway, this is quite intimate, Y/N, I am almost flattered, after many years and now you call me by my name and not Master Jiaoqiu,” As usual he tried his best to get under your skin, still calmly fanning himself. He expected you to retaliate or shoot back another snarky comment, yet you did something that surprised him… You gently hugged him, wrapping your arms around his lower torso to avoid touching his wound, as much as he wanted to open his eyes in surprise, the Foxian instead felt his expression melt into a soft fondness, one that wasn’t all that often seen. “You were that worried?” He finally admitted, moving one of his hands to delicately brush against your back soothingly.

“Just promise me you will be more careful next time,” you whispered faintly, near one of his long ears that twitched at your words, his tail swaying side-to-side.

“I can’t guarantee anything… but, if I get hugged like this, I might consider it.” He purred, still fanning the two of you with his fan, blissfully unaware of the edge of the fan catching a lit with the sizzling of fire lapping at the tips. Jiaoqiu quickly moved the fan to stop the fire from continuing with a silent huff of annoyance, “Maybe we could even go for some hotpot sometime?”

You wanted to say he wasn’t allowed spicy food, but you were content from his words, you simply hoped that one day, he would take your words to heart, if not for your own sake, but maybe for those that were close to him…

#jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #foxian #x reader #y/n #x y/n #hsr jiaoqiu

341 notes · View notes

anakinstwinklebunny · 2 months ago

Note

hiii

so idk if your requests are open but could you please write some hcs about clayton Beresford as a husband and dad

Thank youuu ❤️

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

HUSBAND/DAD!CLAY HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: of course my requests are open! I just LOVE seeing notification from my inbox, so thank you very much <3 hope you like it

MARRIAGE

Clayton Beresford who after two delightful years of your relationship proposed to you. He took you to the fancy restaurant, and since it was something you did often, you hadn't have any suspicious. But have you thought about marrying him? Of course, yet, you wanted to give him time. You knew how his earlier marriage ended so it'd be out of your character to even suggest him taking your relationship to another level. But the ring you got was out of your wildest dreams - 4 carat round cut diamond ring that seemed to shine more than every star in the sky

Clayton Beresford who got even more all-about-you after wedding. Even more love making with no care in the world, long honeymoon, even more spent time together just more everything

Clayton Beresford who, despite his demanding job, always makes time for you. He’s the type of husband who will surprise you with small gestures; like leaving sweet notes in your purse or sending you flowers (mostly to your workplace) randomly just to remind you that he’s thinking of you.

Clayton Beresford who loves planning spontaneous weekend trips to your favorite places. Whether it’s a cozy cabin in the mountains or a luxury hotel in the city, Clayton enjoys these escapes to focus solely on you without any distractions.

Clayton Beresford who's big on surprises. He might book a last-minute trip to Paris (or any place on earth), arrange for a private dinner on the rooftop of the restaurant's building or just in the place you'd not be able to pay by yourself. Or buy you that piece of jewelry you casually mentioned months ago.

Clayton Beresford who has a strong protective instinct. He always ensures you’re safe, and anyone who might pose a threat to you or your happiness would have to face his wrath.

Clayton Beresford who depended on you doing the grocery shopping since he had never done that before (however after a few times he gained knowledge);

Clay glanced away for just a second, but when he looked back, you were gone. His brow furrowed as he scanned the immediate area, stepping away from the cart to see if you had wandered behind another display. But there was no sign of you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in as he quickened his pace, determined not to lose you. Not in this place.

He began weaving through the aisles, his eyes darting around in search of you, listening intently for any sound that might be your voice. But the supermarket was huge, and the weekend crowd made it even more overwhelming.

With a groan of annoyance, Clay pressed on, moving faster now, his heart racing a little at the thought of losing you in this sea of people. Then, suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of you between rushing people. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he turned sharply toward the sound.

You were standing by the dairy section, casually chatting on the phone as you picked up items. Relief washed over him, and he silently thanked whatever forces led him to find you.

Like a lost puppy or a child who had been separated from their parent, he hurried over to you, his earlier frustration melting into a quiet sense of relief.

Reaching for a carton of milk, you sensed someone close behind you. Turning around, you found Clay standing there, his expression a mix of worry and boyish vulnerability that made you smile. It was as if he had been a little kid lost in a big mall again.

You handed him the shopping list, tapping the line where it said 'bananas' with a knowing look.

Clay accepted the list with a determined nod. He was a grown man—he could handle picking up some bananas.

But when he reached the produce section, his confidence wavered as he stared at the six different types of bananas on display, his frown deepening in confusion.

It was supposed to be a simple task: grab the bananas and return to you. Yet here he was, staring at the display like they were some exotic species he had never encountered.

He didn't recognize any of the types, and he had no clue which one you wanted. So, with a loosing sigh, he carefully picked a bunch of yellow bananas, added some mini ones, and then tossed in a few green ones for good measure. Feeling a bit more confident, he placed them all in the cart and made his way back to you. A small, proud smirk forming on his lips as he approached.

“I got them,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice as if he had just completed a great feat.

You glanced down at the cart, noticing the remarkable assortment. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at him. "Baby, but... they're all different kinds."

His smirk faded slightly as a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. He glanced at the cart, then back at you “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and a bit self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just… grabbed a few to be safe.”

Your heart melted at his effort, and you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "C'mon, we'll figure out these bananas together."

His cheeks flushed a deeper red at your affectionate gesture, and he looked down at you with warm, loving eyes, a shy smile curving his lips.

“Okay,” he murmured, feeling content as he started pushing the cart again, this time with you walking beside him.

PREGNANCY

Clayton Beresford who was shocked yet thrilled when he found out you're pregnant. He was always gentle with you but from that day he got on another level of doing everything in his power to make sure you're safe, happy and comfortable

Clayton Beresford who seemed to be hypnotized by your changing body (so obviously loved to have his hands on it, and you loved when he did)

Clayton Beresford who had to deal with your neediness for attention/affection;

"Baby, I'm already late. You know I can't stay longer," he sighs, slipping on his black cloak, the fabric rustling as he moves with familiar urgency.

"Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?" you pout, leaning against the doorframe of your mudroom

He chuckles softly and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest "Baby, I'd love nothing more than to stay," he murmurs "But…" he sighs again, the weight of responsibility heavy in his voice, "you know I can't be late twice in a row."

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his muscles firm against your softer frame. The warmth of his embrace makes you want to hold onto him just a little longer.

"But I thought you'd make love to me all morning," you tease, your voice soft and playful "and then spoil me with a big breakfast."

His eyes softened after his large hands roam over to cup your pregnant belly, his fingers gently tracing over the curve "That was the original plan," his lips formed into a knowing smirk. His hands linger on your body, as if memorizing every inch before he has to let go. "But you know I've got to go to work…"

"But what if the baby comes out while you're not here?" you pout, feeling the warmth of his knuckles as they gently trace over your swollen belly.

He chuckles softly at your worry, his lips curling into a reassuring smile. He steps back slightly, his hands slipping from your waist to admire the sight of your pregnant form. "Babe, we've talked about this. The baby's not coming today," he says with a confident grin, glancing down at your round belly before meeting your concerned gaze.

"Yeah... right," you mumble, still not entirely convinced.

He can't help but smirk at how endearingly moody you are, especially when you pout like that. With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around your chin, tilting your face up so you're looking directly into his smiling eyes. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against your lips.

"I'm gonna miss you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as the reality of his departure sinks in.

His gaze locks onto your big, sparkling eyes as he gently cups your cheeks. "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I have to go to work," he murmurs with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once more.

"I love you, you know," your voice lingering, trying to stretch out the moment just a little longer.

His smile deepens, touched by your efforts to keep him close, but he's all too aware of the ticking clock. "I love you too, more than anything. But if I don't leave now, I'll be late for a meeting with the board... and I can't afford to do that again," his tone a mix of regret and urgency as he gives you a sympathetic look, hoping you understand.

"But you're their boss," you protest softly, a pout forming on your lips.

He sighs, knowing that leaving without giving you something special will likely leave you moody for the rest of the day. Even though he’s pressed for time, he quickly pivots. "How about I give you a kiss for the road?" he suggests, a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts the mood.

"Okay," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, his hand finding its way to your cheek once more, tenderly cradling your face. He pauses, taking a moment to get lost in your sparkling blue eyes, savoring the connection before slowly closing his own and leaning in. His lips meet yours in a slow, loving kiss

Clayton Beresford who makes sure to lift up your pregnancy mood;

His heart sank at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Instantly, worry fills his eyes and he kneels beside you, his voice soft and full of concern. "Baby, what’s wrong?" He gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I feel so huge..." you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.

"Baby, you know I love every part of you. Nothing could ever change that," he says tenderly, his words full of sincerity.

But your insecurities linger, and you turn to him, searching his face. "So you think I’m huge?" you ask, misinterpreting his silence as agreement.

He sighs again, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable you are right now. Quickly, he tries to soothe your worries before they spiral. "No, no, love..." he insists, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the traces of your tears. "You’re not huge, you’re beautiful."

You glance down at your growing belly, frustration evident in your voice. "I barely fit into my pants."

He smiles softly, his gaze never leaving yours, understanding the deep-seated concerns you have about your changing body. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But that’s just because of the incredible little life you’re carrying."

"You look absolutely radiant when you’re pregnant," he adds, his words filled with admiration, careful not to say anything that might upset you further.

"Yeah?" you sniffle, your voice small and uncertain.

He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, full of love and reassurance. "Yeah, baby," he repeats softly. "You’re glowing, and you’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you, pregnant or not."

"But what if after I push the baby out, I still look pregnant? And... and I have all these marks, and my body doesn’t go back to the way it was? And you'll leave me?"

His heart aches as he listens to your fears, unable to bear hearing you doubt the body he cherishes so deeply. "No, no, no, shhh, baby, no..." he murmurs urgently, his voice soothing as he tries to calm your spiraling thoughts. "I would never, ever leave you for that. My love for you knows no limits, nothing could change that."

His hands continue to tenderly stroke your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he speaks. "I love you so much, sweetheart. The marks on your body from carrying our beautiful child—they'll only make me love you and your body even more."

"Yeah?" you sniffle, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

his eyes filled with admiration and love as he nods "Yeah, baby. Because those marks are proof of your incredible strength, of the life you’ve nurtured for nine months.. and only an absolute goddess could manage that"

Clayton Beresford who every day remaided you how beautiful you are, what a treasure you are in his life that nothing could replace

Clayton Beresford who got more cuddly with you;

"Look at that… he’s a little boxer" his lips curved up as he felt the baby’s tiny movements beneath his fingertips. His voice was filled with awe, and there was a boyish excitement in his eyes that made you smile.

"He?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced up from your book. "How do you know it’s a boy?"

He shrugged, but the cheeky grin that spread across his features betrayed the certainty in his heart. He leaned closer, letting his chin rest on your bump. His touch was gentle, almost tingly at times while his long fingers made sure to memorize the path over your swollen skin

"Father’s instincts," he whispered

"Oh? Didn’t know you had those," you chuckled, your fingers threading through his tousled curls. There was something endearing about how intensely focused he was on your belly - his brow furrowed in concentration as he searched for more signs of the baby’s movements.

Clay still kept his, this time less wider, smile over his lips. He seemed to calm down under not only your touch but the feeling of your belly with his child right in his reach and right before his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing his lips gently against your tummy. His lips lingered for a little longer, his expression changing to more surprised;

"Hush," he murmured softly, his hand stilling when he found the spot where the baby seemed to be resting. "I can sense him…"

Yet, the baby had quieted, and clay's lips formed into a pout. The frustration knitting his brows before he nuzzled to your belly "Can’t you encourage him to kick or something? I want to know that he’s alive…" he mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of concern and childish impatience (that you rarely saw before)

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnestness. "Clay, how am I supposed to encourage him? Maybe he’s sleeping."

He groaned softly, looking up at you with those soulful eyes, making it impossible not to find him utterly endearing. He looked like a grumpy child who hadn’t received the attention he thought he deserved and it was both cute and hilarious

"Well, I don’t know," he muttered, his hand still drawing small circles on your belly. "Talk to him? Tell him how cool I am… maybe he’ll be excited then and want to say hi."

You rolled your eyes playfully, still stroking his curls. "Baby, don’t be ridiculous… he's probably sleeping."

He huffed in response, still pouting but clearly knowing you were right. The baby was just asleep, and there was nothing he could do but wait. Still, the idea of his child not acknowledging his presence seemed to tug at something deep within him.

"I just want him to know that I’m here too," he mumbled

You smiled down at him, your voice soothing as you reassured him. "I bet he does, clay."

"Just imagine how cute he’s gonna be," clay mused, his voice softening as he let himself drift into the fantasy of fatherhood. "A baby version of me, running around, being a menace to everyone…"

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What if it’s a girl?"

His hand paused for a moment, the weight of the thought catching him off guard. For a few seconds, his expression was blank as he processed the idea of having a daughter. Then, slowly, his usual cocky grin reappeared, but with a touch of tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

"A baby girl," he echoed, as if trying out the words. "She could get your looks, though. I wouldn’t mind that. The second most beautiful girl in the world… and daddy’s little princess."

Just then, he felt a light flutter beneath his palm. His eyes widened in surprise, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, the pout completely erased by a wide grin "There you are…"

The baby seemed to respond to his voice, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his father’s presence. He continued to rub gently over your belly, his touch loving and protective, showering the area with soft kisses.

"Already responding to me," he whispered, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he felt the tiny movements beneath his hands. "Smart baby…"

clayton continued to soothe your belly, his hands and lips moving in a calming rhythm until the baby settled back into stillness. Even as the baby quieted, he wasn’t ready to let go. He lingered, enjoying the feeling of being close to both of you, his heart full and content.

"Guess he’s asleep again…" he said softly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Or maybe he’s just tired of you," you teased lightly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

His eyes widened in mock offense, his pout returning as he looked up at you, clearly not appreciating the joke. "Very funny," he grumbled, his frown deepening. "I am the most interesting person this baby will ever meet—"

But despite his grumbling, you could see the love and excitement in his eyes, the way he couldn’t wait to meet the little life growing inside you. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be the best father this baby could ever ask for.

Clayton Beresford who spoiled you way more during your pregnancy. More presents without occasion, more affection, more cuddles, just more everything there was to give

Clayton Beresford who was there on most of your doctor appointments. If he had a busy schedule, which happened often, he then couldn't appear (but you didn't mind, since it was just doctor appointment to check on your and the child's health, nothing more so much important for him to be there everytime)

Clayton Beresford who was obsessed with making love to you during your pregnancy;

"youre-youre so big--" you mewl underneath him

"I am, aren't I?" he panted, his hands gripping your plump hips tightly. "And you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words spurred him on, pushing deeper inside you to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

your eyes barely could keep themselves open from the sensation of having him again in your hole. Who would have known that your pregnancy hormones would make you so horny you would cry to Clayton about it. And him, being such a generous gentleman who loved his wife with all his being, how could just leave you like that? When you sobbed, begged for his touch

"Don't close your eyes," he commanded softly "Open them. Let me see the look on your face when I'm inside you."

your eyes reluctantly opened, at least they lingered between half opened and half closed. A moan rumbled through your throat as you took in the sight of his muscles that ripped whenever his hold grew too much

"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear you." Clayton's breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him. The way you moaned and your completely swollen breasts jingled with each thrust was driving him wild. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned you, picking up the pace even more.

PARENTHOOD

Clayton Beresford who was there for you for the whole childbirth. Encouraging you, giving you support, etc. He'd insist you'd hold the baby first, not him. And before he'd even hold the newborn, he'd make sure you're all safe and everything's okay;

After making sure you held the newborn first and you were all okay, he had time to take the baby close to his chest, his large, strong arms cradling the fragile newborn bundle with a tenderness that belied his powerful frame. The baby’s skin was a delicate shade of pink, still wrinkled from the birth, and Clay couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of emotion as he gazed down at the tiny life nestled against him. The baby was so small, so impossibly vulnerable, and it made something deep within him tremble and break.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he gently stroked the baby’s cheek with a trembling hand. His touch was feather-light, his fingertips barely brushing the baby’s soft, downy skin and his hand looked enormous in comparison to the baby’s minuscule features.

“He’s so small…” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His throat tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Are you crying?” you asked softly, a tired smile playing on your lips as you rested after the long and exhausting delivery

He glanced up at you and he felt a single tear escape and trail down his cheek “…No—yes… maybe…” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickly wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but it was clear that his composure was unraveling. He returned his gaze to the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he ran a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how delicate and perfect it was.

When the newborn's hand wrapped around clay's finger, he felt like his new heart might explode from overwhelming feeling. It was so cute, the baby’s grip firm and warm

“He’s holding my finger…” he murmured, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered awe

The baby continued to cling to his finger, his tiny hand gripping the large digit with a determination that was both heartwarming and humbling. Clay smiled through tears and a mixture of pride and amazement shined in his eyes as he gently caressed the baby’s hand, utterly mesmerized by the strength in such a small being.

“Such a tight grip… I’ve already created a little warrior,” he mused with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with pride. He looked down at his son, his heart brimming with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. “You’re going to be strong, just like your momma” he added, his tone filled with admiration.

“…You have your momma’s eyes, you know?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as a fresh wave of emotion washed over him. There was a hint of pride in his voice, but also something deeper, something reverent. The sight of those eyes, so familiar and yet so new, made him feel as though he was looking at a piece of you—a part of the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy.

As if sensing the weight of the moment, the baby cooed softly, his tiny body wriggling uncomfortably against the confines of the blanket. You watched the first interaction between your husband and your child and it was the most endearing thing you experience. Delivery was hard, damn it hurt like hell, as if devil himself teared your insides but as soon as the baby was out, all the pain was forgotten

“You don’t like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he gently traced soothing circles over the baby’s cheek “I don’t blame you… I’d hate being swaddled too.”

Clayton Beresford who is the kind of dad who’s always one step ahead when it comes to the safety and well-being of your children. He’s vigilant about who they spend time with and ensures they grow up in the safest environment possible.

Clayton Beresford who, despite his often serious demeanor, has a major soft spot when it comes to his children. He’s not afraid to get down on the floor and play with them, and he’ll often indulge them in things other might not—like staying up a bit past bedtime for just one more story.

Clayton Beresford who enjoys spoiling his kids, whether it’s with the latest toys, gadgets, or extravagant birthday parties. However, he’s careful to balance this with teaching them the importance of gratitude and not taking things for granted.

Clayton Beresford who, if you have a daughter, is wrapped around her little finger. He’s the type of dad who will attend tea parties, help with ballet practice, and learn how to braid hair just to make her happy;

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost finished," he murmured, his voice a soft yet deep rumble as he focused on working his fingers through the strands of your daughter's hair.

"Maybe we should just ask Mommy," she whispered, her small voice carrying a hint of doubt.

"No, no," he shook his head gently, a determined glint in his eye. "We don’t need Mommy for a braid. Daddy can do it just fine."

Clay's fingers moved clumsily but with care, tugging her hair a bit too tightly at times. His brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully looped the strands together.

"But Mommy always likes to help," she insisted, her tone hopeful.

"Daddy likes to help too," he replied, his voice tender but resolute, wanting to prove himself to his little girl.

He paused for a moment, examining his work with a critical eye. The braid was far from perfect—slightly uneven and a little messy, held together by a hairband that seemed to be doing more of the work than the braid itself. But as he looked at it, a small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"See? Not so bad, huh?"

Clayton Beresford who is big on teaching his children responsibility from a young age.

Clayton Beresford who made sure to pay attention to your kids after he came back from work. Even if he was extremely tired, he'd rather fall asleep with your baby boy in his arms than leaving you alone to deal with the children

Clayton Beresford who found you as his inspiration. You, with kids most of the time, still having energy to take care of him and the house. So, as soon as he changed his clothes after work, he replaced you in duties so you'd have your alone time.

Clayton Beresford who, if you had a son, played all the games the boy wanted. Like toys where the boy came up with some plot, plastic cars, playgrounds outside;

Clay sat on the floor, carefully stacking blocks into a tall tower while his son sat comfortably on his lap, his tiny hands occasionally reaching out to help—or hinder.

"What do you want to eat?" you asked softly from the kitchen doorway, watching the two with a fond smile.

Clay glanced up at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "You?" he teased, genuinely curious about your preference.

But before he could say more, the boy clumsily knocked over the tower with an excited shove, sending the blocks tumbling in all directions.

“Hey! You just destroyed Daddy’s masterpiece,” Clay said in mock offense, though his voice carried a warm, playful tone. He looked down at him, who was dissolving into giggles, his face scrunched up in pure joy.

"Well, I was thinking pasta... I'm really craving it," you said, your giggles mingling with theirs.

Clay's heart swelled as he watched you enjoy the moment just as much as he was. Turning back to the toddler, he gently poked his son’s side, earning more bubbly laughter from the little boy. “We don’t normally allow such behavior in the tower-building world,” he joked, his tone still light before turning his gaze to you "But pasta sounds good tho.."

With a grin, Clay stood up from the carpeted floor, scooping the boy up by his armpits and swinging him side to side, much to the toddler’s delight. "C'mon, you little silly guy, let's go help Mommy with dinner,"

Clayton Beresford who, no matter what interests or hobbies your kids have, is fully supportive. He’ll invest in lessons, equipment, or anything else they need to pursue their passions, always encouraging them to follow their dreams.

Clayton Beresford who, no matter how busy his life gets, always prioritizes family. He ensures that you and the kids know that you’re his number one priority, making time for family dinners, vacations, and just spending quality time together.

Clayton Beresford who propritazed your time together. His kids were important but you were more important. So, regularly he hired a babysitter (a trusted one), and took you out on dates (or on a vacation but then your parents took care of the children) so you could focus on each other and on the bond you share without screaming kids

Clayton Beresford ho didn't mind making you pregnant again (if you even wanted to be pregnant again);

"Fill this beautiful cunt with my seed once more?" He growled, plunging back into you with a single powerful thrust that made you both cry out in pleasure "you want that love? Be pregnant again?"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

357 notes · View notes

kurogane2512 · 8 months ago

Note

HI KURO I LOVE YOUR WORKS SM CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE CHIORI AND G!P READER WHERE READER FUCKS THE HELL OUT OF CHIORI AFTER BEING PENT UP FOR SO LONG 😓😓

In celebration of Chiori's release, here you go!

18+ CONTENT

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: Chiori x g!p reader

Type: Smut (blowjob, table sex, creampie)

It was a pleasant evening when you went to Chiori's boutique to ask for a new set of formal clothes as you were to attend a gathering at your workplace in a week. You didn't expect the shop to be so filled to the brim even at this hour, but you knew it couldn't be helped.

"Welcome to Chioriya Boutique. How may I help you?" Chiori's assistant greeted you at the entrance, you glanced around and saw Chiori attending to a customer hence decided to wait for her. Chiori also saw you walk in but paid no heed and focused on her work at hand, that's just how she was and you had problems. You sat in the waiting area and watched her diligently work with the customers around her, admiring her style and ethics.

You didn't expect her to tend to you first just because you were her partner; and frankly, you preferred to be tended later when there were less people around. Hours passed as you sat and waited, occassionally helping yourself to some tea and snacks and reading some magazines. You realized you were the last in line since nobody else came in after you and Chiori was still quite busy with others.

At last, Chiori was finally free to tend to you but to her surprise, you had fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for her. Her expression remained steeled but she felt slightly guilty inside for making you wait so long, it was perhaps due to the fact that she knew you won't force yourself in the middle that she rested easy and decided to come to you last.

She sent her assistants home for the day and closed the blinders of the shop then walked up to you and extended her hands towards your face to cup it but quickly retracted it and cleared her throat.

"Y/n, wake up. It's your turn now."

Her sharp voice rang through your ears and you jolted awake to see her standing in front of you with her arms crossed over chest. You hurriedly stood up but looked around to see the shop was empty and she had pulled out the blinders in the front, finally realizing it was quite late.

"A-Ah, I'm sorry. It seems you are closing up now, I'll come tomorrow morning."

Chiori stared at you with her usual straightforward expression then held your wrist and pulled you towards her work table before grabbing her tools.

"Don't waste time. What clothes do you want?"

"Um... I wanted a formal suit for a workplace gathering, something elegant and simple but enough as a party wear, if that makes sense."

Chiori nodded and took out a few fabric pieces to make you choose, you hesitantly went over the choices then finally picked one of them and she grabbed her measuring tape then came in front of you.

"W-Wait, don't you already have my measurements....?"

"Hmph, and what if you have changed in some areas? The measurements are almost 4 months old now, and with your eating habits I'm certain you have lost a few inches here and there."

"H-Hey, don't put it so bluntly. I try to eat well now..." you spoke in an embarrassed tone and looked away. Chiori smiled to herself for a moment then donned her usual expression and began taking your measurements.

"Hmm... I knew it, your shoulders are thinner by 3 cm.... and your waist by 8 cm... Seriously, what are you even eating?"

Chiori mumbled as she went all around your upper body then kneeled down in front to take measurements for your pants. You blushed all of a sudden looking at her in such a tempting position and felt your cock twitch in your pants, hoping she would be done soon and doesn't notice. Chiori then placed the tape on your pants' button and aligned it till your crotch point, noticing a small bulge as soon as she pressed the tape on it.

Chiori grinned and pressed the tape once again, earning a startled gasp from you. "Hmm, seems one part of you has grown at the very least. Looks like all that you are eating is going here~"

Chiori teased while palming your crotch, vibrations going up your body. She then zipped down your flyer and fished out your semi-erect cock, pumping it slowly and languidly.

"Ngh~ C-Chiori...."

"....I'll make it up to you for the wait." Chiori whispered then kissed your tip, your face becoming flushed at her actions.

"But first, take off your clothes. I don't want any fabrics getting dirty."

You couldn't do anything but comply, you swiftly pulled off your shirt and pants then stood in front of her and watched her pull down her kimono followed by her tights, keeping her underwear on. She dropped to her knees again and began pumping your cock like before, the length fully erect now. She placed her lips around the head and swiped her tongue over the slit, sucking and licking your cock.

Your groaned and gently held her head to stabilise yourself, she began bobbing her head up and down your length now. You thrusted your hips into her with a rhythmic motion, your tip brushing the back of her throat every time. Her hands massaged your balls and pumped your base as she continued bobbing her head, you sighed at the feeling of her warm and wet tongue slurping along that one vein and the way her cheeks hollowed as she sucked.

"Gah—! Chiori! T-Too fast—!~"

"I have to... close the shop soon.... hurry up and cum." Chiori moaned around your length, sending shivers down your body and you gripped her hair tighter.

Chiori eagerly bobbed her head and sucked your cock as if she was starved, perhaps she really felt bad for making you wait this long, or perhaps she simply wanted this so much. Your cock twitched as you formed a perfect rhythm with your thrusts, lightly gripping her hair and pulling her closer to plunge deeper.

"I'm close....nggh~" you moaned and Chiori hummed then swallowed your cock entirely, your eyes rolling to your skull as you instantly released inside her. Your hips jerked forward and you pulled her mouth flush against your abdomen, sending small thrusts inside her as you spurted your load. Chiori barely managed to swallow all your load, some drops dripping down her chin onto her breasts that she scooped up and licked.

"How messy. Good thing we removed our clothes." Chiori teased with a grin as she stood up and you suddenly pushed her to the table before turning her around and bending her body on it. Chiori gasped in surprise then moaned feeling your throbbing cockhead rub against her own drenched folds.

"Hmm.... you are slow, Y/n. Put it in already."

"I'm slow? Did you forget you are the one who made me wait for hours?~" you husked in her ear and licked the shell, your body resting on her back as you continued grinding your cock between her thighs.

"H-Hmph! Don't consider yourself special just cause you are my girlfriend—!"

"Oh, but I do. After all, you wouldn't accept this payment method from anyone else, right?~"

"Heh, do you want to be thrown out of my shop?~"

"Oh, try me~"

You immediately sheathed inside her in a swift motion, a loud gasp leaving her mouth as her body arched off the table. Your groaned at her tightness, her walls clenching you so well. You rutted into her in slow and shallow thrusts at first, making her more restless as she chased her release.

"I told you to get on with it! It's already so late—Mhm!~"

You suddenly slammed deep inside, prodding her sensitive spot. You then continued hammering against that same spot with a fast pace, your thighs slapping against her ass eliciting erotic noises in the shop. It was a good thing she put the blinders on the window, otherwise the Thundering Seamstress' dignity would be in trouble. You pounded at an animalistic pace, her body arching into you with each thrust and a moan filling your ears.

"Gonna cum again... damn, you are so tight for me, Chiori~"

"Mhmmm.... s-stop talking.... just fuck me....!~"

"My, such crude language is unbecoming of you, Ms Chiori~"

You smiked and pushed her further down by her lower back, making a beautiful arch of her body. You gripped her hips and drilled forward, your thick cock splitting her open. Her mind was hazy fron the stimulations, and soon after she felt a surge of hot and gooey liquid filling her up. She moaned as her walls clenched your cock and she released too, a ring of cum forming at the base of your cock.

You pulled out and watched some of the cum drip down her folds while she laid panting atop the table. You turned her around and held her up in your arms, her hands wrapping around your neck and legs around your waist. You kissed her deeply and passionately, then carried her to the couch and plunged your cock inside her again.

"H-Hey! Let's go home and— aaah!~"

"No, we do it right here. You made me wait for so long, you have to compensate me right~"

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #genshin women #genshin x reader #chiori #chiori x reader #g!p reader

503 notes · View notes

eddiesxangel · 4 months ago

Text

Take Me to the Lakes 6/6

cw: angst, hurt/ comfort, smut, dirty talk, daddy dom eddie, oral (f &m), p in v, anal play, use of y/n, MDNI 18+

wc: 8.4k

AN: it's been a long time coming, but the last chapter is here! I've been writing this fic for a year since I posted it as an OCx Eddie. But it deserved to be a reader insert, so I revamped it for you guys. Thank you all for taking the time to read the first Eddie series I ever started. ily all. I hope you enjoyed it <3

As the last days of camp dwindled, for the first time, you found yourself overwhelmed by an intense longing to be back in Hawkins. Each day passed in a blur, leaving you feeling numb and disconnected. Despite the efforts to maintain a composed façade for the children, you were merely going through the motions.

You couldn't shake off the weight of the final exchange with Eddie, and the girls' attempts to help were in vain. Regret consumed you as you grappled with the realization that your actions had caused Eddie unnecessary pain. The thought of losing Eddie forced you to confront the need for change in your life, as you could not bear the prospect of living without him any longer.

The drive home seemed quicker than in previous years. The four hours it took to get home felt like nothing as your mind raced about how to make up for your mistake. You got over your pride quickly as you yearned for Eddie's company. You had everything you ever dreamed of, and you ruined it.

The time spent falling for one another all went to waste as you tore his heart right out of his chest when you told him this was just a summer fling. Not only did you break his heart, but you also broke your own. How could you have done this to him? How could you have let your pride take over what your heart was screaming at you to take?

Eddie was the only good thing to happen to you, the right person for you. He was kind, caring, unapologetically himself, funny, generous, looked out for others, and was light and love. You had to win him back. He was everything to you; he was the end game. So you devised a plan to get him back.

You’ve been home for two weeks and still have not heard from Eddie. You called him as soon as you got home, but he would let it go to the answering machine each time you called. You must have looked pathetic, begging him to talk to you. Every day, you would call once without letting up. Your sorrowful words flooded the machine so much that Eddie’s uncle Wayne was about to block your number, but Eddie stopped him.

“What’s going on with you and this girl needs to be addressed, or I’m getting a restraining order,” Wayne huffed.

He didn’t mean it, but your calls in the middle of the day woke him up since he was on the night shift. For the fifteenth day in a row, you called, the anticipation building up with every ring until you finally heard someone on the other line answer.

“Hello?” The voice was weathered and rough, nothing like your Eddie.

Have you been calling the wrong number this whole time? You got his number off Ash; she wouldn’t have had it wrong?

“H-hi,” you stuttered, not expecting any time to pick up the call, “is Eddie there?”

“No, darlin’, he’s at work. Doesn’t wanna talk to you, though. I know you keep calling, but he's busy, and I'm trying to sleep, so please stop calling.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir! Won’t happen again.” Your heart sinks at the reality of his words.

“Thanks”

“Sir, before you go, can you relay a message to him?”

“Sure.”

You can tell he's annoyed.

“Can you tell him that I’m so sorry and that I love him?” your voice cracked at the words.

“Sure thing,” Wayne’s voice softened. He had no idea what transpired this summer between you and Eddie, but he didn’t know love was involved until now.

“Thank you… it’s y/n, by the way.” You tried to keep your sniffles to a minimum.

“Goodbye “y/n”

When Eddie got home that night, Wayne was already making his version of nighttime breakfast.

“Boy, sit down,” Wayne instructed as Eddie entered their shard trailer.

“Can’t I shower first?” Eddie looks at his greased-up coveralls and hands.

“Nope, you’re going to sit and listen.”

“Feel like I’m twelve again,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you and that girl who keeps calling, but you need to work it out, son.”

Eddie doesn't respond, but Wayne can see the wheels in his head turning.

“She called again.” Wayne sighed heavily. “I spoke to her.”

“You what?” That caught Eddie’s attention.

“She asked me to tell you that she is sorry and that she loves you.”

“I-“

“No, listen here,” he pointed the black spatula at his nephew.

"Never in my lifetime did I think you would be able to find a girl in this town who would finally see what I’ve seen your whole life? I’m not going to let you throw that away for some stupid argument.”

“It wasn’t stupid, old man; she’s embarrassed by me.”

“Didn’t sound like that to me; she was crying. She’s been calling every day for a fortnight. I think it’s time to hear her out. Clearly, she ain’t giving up without a fight. You don’t get that kind of love nowadays.” He turned to flip his fried egg.

“She’s too good for me; the princess of Hawkins can never be with the freak.” He rolls his eyes.

“Show her you are growing! You’ve got a real job, boy, a good steady one. None of that selling drugs bullshit, keep in line with the law, don’t fuck this up.”

“She hurt me, old man.”

“I don’t disagree that she did, but she had a reason for her doubts…” Wayne trails off, knowing well that his nephew has been slacking when it comes to growing up. Three repeats of his senior year, selling drugs, getting caught for petty crimes, and people thinking he worships Satan.

“Clearly, you care for this girl; I can tell you’re moping around.

“I’m not moping.”

“Don’t talk back.”

“Sorry.”

"Fix it, Ed. Now you can go shower. You stink”

Three weeks into the fall semester, you finally gave up on trying to call Eddie. The day you spoke to Wayne was the last day you called, but it didn’t stop you from repeating his phone number in your head for some source of comfort.

Ash had seen him here and there and told you how he was doing even though he had asked her not to say anything; her loyalty lay with you.

She told you he had played her the messages, so he had received them, but he was choosing to ignore you even though, in her words, “he looks like shit.”

You try to keep a brave face before your parents and classmates, but you’re starting to break. Ashley saw it the second she laid eyes on you.

She consoled you as you broke down in her arms. You apologized over and over again because you knew that she was also friends with Eddie and had already heard his side of the story.

“I can’t stand seeing you like this,” Ashely sighed as she walked into the dusk-lit trailer with Eddie.

“Well, you can thank your best friend for that.” His tone was sharp.

You had already called Ashley that night to tell her what had happened, and the second she hung up the phone, she raced over to the Munson’s.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it; she is under a lot of pressure.”

“She did mean it. She meant it and didn’t even have the decency to tell me straight up. Then she had the nerve to tell me she loves me.” Eddie scoffs.

“She does love you, Ed. She’s loved you since she accidentally burst into the Vecna campaign.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way. She has always had a thing for you; she was too scared to do anything. A) because she didn’t think you were into her and B) the pressure her parents put her under to be the perfect student, child, dancer, or valedictorian should be borderline child abuse..."

"Her parents would disown her, they would stop paying for her college, and they would probably kick her out if they learned their perfect angel was with you. So yea, what she did was awful and shitty, but it isn’t because she wanted to. It was because she had to.”

“She never told me much about her home life…” Eddie turned back to face Ash, leaning back against his amp.

“Because she is too proud. She feels this need always to be perfect, to always be on. Have you noticed how she ensures everyone around her is cared for before herself? Have you taken the time to sit and really watch her? She is the one person I know who is actually so kind-hearted and has no altered motives behind her actions.”

“She still ripped my heart out and stomped on it.”

“And she regrets it all, Eddie. I’ve never seen her like this. Please just take some time and think hard. She is sorry, and she loves you truly. I don’t know why. I don’t see the appeal, but she’s head over heels. Trust me. I’ve heard enough about the two of you to last me six lifetimes…”

“She’s told you about…that?” Eddie’s eyes go wide.

“And then some. She’s my best friend. What did you expect?”

“I dunno? You’re not into men, so I thought she wouldn’t share those details?” He chuckles awkwardly.

“No, Daddy.”

“Get out.”

A cackle fills the room as Ash tries to escape before Eddie physically pushes her out himself.

“Ok, ok, I’m leaving. Just think about things, okay?

“Yeah, whatever.” Eddie shrugged and closed the screen door behind her.

“He’s never going to forgive me.” You lay back on your bed. You and Eddie have been broken up for a month and a half.

“I think he will come around; he is stubborn.” Ashley joins you.

“This town is so small. How have I not bumped into him yet?”

“Probably because he got a new job, he’s always there. We haven’t had time to come up with a date for the next campaign.

“Do you know what the new job is? Wayne mentioned he was at work when I spoke to him but didn’t say what it was?"

“Beats me,” Ash struggled, letting her head hand off the edge of your bed as she inhaled the smoke from the joint.

Your parents were away for the weekend, and you had the house to yourselves.

“You got any snacks?”

“No, you know my mother doesn’t allow any of the good stuff in the house, and I haven’t had the time to go to the store since school started.”

“Let’s go get some.”

“Ok,” You hadn’t taken a hit yet, so you were okay to drive.

Things were going according to plan. They had exactly what you both wanted at the store and now you’re both on your way back to your place when suddenly, your car stalled at the fork in the road.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" you cried.

"It's okay; there's a payphone up the road. I'll call my dad; his buddy is a mechanic. He can ask for a tow," she reassured you.

"Uh, okay, here," you said as you passed her some change to make the call.

A few minutes later, you saw a baby blue, beat-up-looking truck headed your way.

"Oh, thank God."

The relief was short-lived as you watched the driver jump down from the cab.

Ash flinched when you grabbed her hand and squeezed it so tight that her fingers started turning purple.

“Owe, what the-“

“Hey Ash”

“Eddie?” She chuckled as a sick and twisted grin grew on her face.

“You called about a tow?”

“Yeah, her car stalled.” She gestured over to you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.

Eddie chose to ignore you were there, and you felt like you would throw up.

“Ok, well, I'll hook it up to the rig; you can get in.” Eddie only spoke directly to Ash, choosing not to look at you.

You stood there frozen, unable to speak as Ashley pulled you along with her to the tow truck.

“Well, this is awkward.” She chuckled uncomfortably as you got in after her.

“He’s a mechanic?” You whisper.

“Looks like it.”

“What am I going to do?!” You’re panicking. Out of all the scenarios in which you envisioned bumping into Eddie, this was not one of them.

“Breathe,” Ash instructs. “He is freaking out just as much as you are right now. Trust me.”

“O-oh, okay.” That didn’t settle your nerves in the slightest.

You jerked when the driver's door swung open, and Eddie got in without as much as clearing his throat.

“As much as I would love to catch up, I need to get home. Ed, is there any chance you can drop me off?”

“But your stuff is at my place.” You give her a look.

“I’ll get it tomorrow; we are almost there anyway.”

You’re going to be best friendless in about ten minutes if she really thinks she can ditch you now, in your most desperate time of need.

“Whatever,” Eddie mumbles and makes a left.

“Thanks, Ed! Bye, babe!” She blows you an obnoxious kiss and turns to her house.

The cab is eerily silent, and not even the radio is on, which is very unlike Eddie.

“She is so dead,” Eddie mumbles under his breath.

“You’re telling me.” You agree.

It’s the first thing you’ve said to him in a month.

Eddie doesn’t respond, instead he keeps his eyes locked on the road while you try and make yourself smaller, as if that would make you a less of an inconvenience for him.

You were jerked out of your internal screaming when the car jerked into park.

“We’re here.” He mumbles and gets out.

Still uncomfortable, you take a second to gather yourself before opening your door.

You jerk once again as the door is pulled out from under your grasp.

You stare blankly as Eddie steps aside to let you out of the car.

“T-thanks.” You don’t know what to do.

He didn’t talk to you or even look at you, but he’s opening doors for you?

You follow him inside, and he opens the door for you again and tells you to wait until he’s finished.

You anxiously wait for about forty-five minutes before Eddie returns to the waiting area. He looks devastatingly sexy like this. His coveralls are wrapped around his waist, showing off his black tank top, which clings to his sweaty body. Grease marks cover his alabaster skin.

“When’s the last time you got this checked out?” His voice is stern.

“I dunno? A year and a half? Maybe more?” you shrug innocently.

“No wonder it’s so fucked up.”

“Can-can you fix it?”

“You think I can’t fix it? I’m not a moron. I can do my job, y/n”

Hearing him call you by your name was like a knife to the heart.

“What, n-no?”

“How could you be so irresponsible!”

“I don’t know Eddie!” You scream back.

“What if this happened on your way home from Murdock? You’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere!”

“Well, good thing it didn’t!”

“God, you’re infuriating”

“Why do you even care!”

“Woah woah woah… ok kids take it easy.” A much older mechanic came to step between the both of you.

“Sorry, Mac,” Eddie steps back.

“Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?” The older man, now known as Mac, asks.

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head with a sniffle.

“Ed, get back to work.” He ordered.

“Your car might take a while, Miss. Do you want us to drive you back and pick you up when it’s ready?”

“No, thanks, I’ll wait here.” You didn’t want to leave without your car.

“It’s up to you. If you change your mind, let us know. Ed can drive you back.”

Sitting here for hours in silence was better than being trapped back in a car with Eddie for 15 mins.

“Thanks.”

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the horizon, you could feel your impatience growing. The tension in the air was palpable as if it could be sliced with a knife. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts as you grappled with how to approach him.

The mechanics left one by one until only Eddie and you remained. Unable to contain your restlessness any longer, you stuck your head into the garage area. The overpowering scent of motor oil and dirt floods your nostrils, hitting you like a wall. You struggled not to gag, but Eddie’s notice of your disgust did not escape.

“Sorry, this place isn’t clean enough for you, Princess.”

His inflection on your usual pet name was so harsh that you physically jerked back.

“I was just wondering how long it will be?”

“Almost done.”

“O-ok. Thanks”

“I’m not doing you a favour. It’s my job.”

“You never told me you like working on cars.” You don’t know why you’re trying to keep the conversation going. Maybe you missed the sound of his voice, or maybe you’re a glutton for punishment? Maybe you missed him so bad you thought your heart would leap out of your chest if you didn’t touch him.

“Like is a strong word. I’m good at it.” He shrugs.

“You’re good at a lot of things,” the compliment slips out.

“Whatever.” He sniffs and gets down on the creeper to take a look underneath.

You choose to stay and watch him work; no one else is around to tell you otherwise.

When Eddie reappears, he is surprised to see you sitting on the stool watching him work.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Eddie, can you please talk to me?” You feel the lump in your throat start to suffocate you.

“I’m working.” Eddie lets out another sigh of frustration.

“Ok, fine; you don’t have to talk, but will you please just listen?”

Eddie chooses to ignore you and rolls back under the car. You don’t care you’re going to talk anyway.

“I got scared, baby.”

The term of endearment tugged on Eddie’s heartstrings as much as he didn’t want them to.

“I’m so scared. I’ve never felt like this before about anybody, and the thought of it being stripped away from me was too much. I don’t talk about my parents because they put me on this pedestal. I knew they wouldn’t accept you no matter how unbelievably wonderful and beautiful you are. So I panicked…” you take a deep breath to compose yourself.

Eddie rolls out from under the hood and sits up on the creeper.

“I’m an embarrassment then? I can’t possibly be good enough, so you strung me along all summer like a pathetic, lovesick idiot for thinking you could actually be with someone like me, so you could what?…”

“I didn’t string you along! I didn’t know this would happen between us, but I know I love you, Eddie!” You didn’t think you had any more tears left to cry, but you were wrong. Your eyes started to well.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Please, baby, believe me, I don’t care what anyone else will think anymore! I’ll get disowned. I don’t care. I need you to understand, even if you don’t love me back.” You slip off the stool onto your knees so you’re face to face with the man you love.

“You don’t think I love you?! You really believe that?”

You shake your head no, ashamed to look at him.

“I hurt you; I understand that you don’t want me.”

“You really think I could spend the whole summer with you and not fall in love?” He shook his head in disbelief.

“What are you saying?” You want to reach out and touch him, but hold yourself back.

“Of course I love you! I’m changing for you! I’m staying out of trouble; I got this job to get on my own two feet! To prove to you that I can be that guy!”

Not caring anymore, you launch yourself at him, connecting your lips and arms around his neck.

Eddie couldn’t help himself. His body acting on instinct, he fell back into routine and kissed you back immediately.

Not thinking about his dirty hands, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in closer until your bodies pressed up against one another.

The moment your bodies touched, you felt like you were on fire. Everything felt so right like you were whole once again.

Regretfully, Eddie pulled away first.

“I’m so sorry,” you plead once more.

“It will take some time, but I want you more than I want to be mad at you.” He cups your face and smears some grease on your cheek as he tries to wipe away the tear stain.

“Really?”

“I love you, I never got to say it. I would tell you our last night before things blew up in our faces.”

“I love you, Eddie.”

A small smile creeps from his lips.

“Oh shit, you’re so dirty.”

“You know I like it dirty,” you can't help but smirk.

“No, no, your shirt and your,” he motions to your cheek.

“It’s okay.” You shrug, and an awkward silence settles between you.

“Um, so,” Eddie clears his throat.”

“Kiss me?”

“Your wish is my command, Princess.”

Your car was fixed by 9:00 p.m., and you offered Eddie a night, but he felt it was too soon to jump back into things. It stung a little, but you understood that not all was forgiven just yet. So you parted ways at the garage but saw a light at the end of the tunnel.

Things between you and Eddie have been better—not great, but better. He calls you on his days off, but you haven’t fully been forgiven by him just yet.

You haven’t spent any one-on-one time since he fixed your car two weeks ago because he’s been that slammed with essays, and you have to get ready for midterms.

“I was down at the mechanic yesterday, and you won’t believe who is working there.” Your dad huffs.

“Who?” Your mom replies.

You can’t help but overhear as you study at the kitchen table.

“The Munson boy.”

Uh-oh.

“Really?”

“Wouldn’t want him fixing my cars, probably mess it up even more.”

“He fixed my car two weeks ago.” You interjected.

“What?” Your mom snapped her head to you.

Ok, guess this conversation is happening now.

“He isn’t like what people say.”

“How exactly would you know this?” Your father squints at you suspiciously.

“Because I worked with him all summer at camp, and I learned a lot about him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” You nod point blank.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” your dad asks, and your mother scolds him for such a question.

“I’m an adult,” you bite back.

“What are you saying y/n?” Your mom asks.

“Eddie is good, and kind, and gentle. He isn’t a devil-worshiping deviant that everyone thinks.”

“Sounds like you’re very fond of this Munson kid.” Your dad was not amused.

“I am. I’m in love with him.” You swallow your fear.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Eddie. I have been for a long time, and this summer, we were together.” You breathe.

“I will not allow this!” Your father booms.

“Calm down, let’s hear her out.” Your mom was much more level-headed about this than you anticipated.

“What?” Your father and you both look to your mom.

“Have we not raised her to make her own choices?”

No way your mom was on your side?

“I will not have my child tainted by that scoundrel!”

“We’ve been together all summer! Have I changed at all?! Have I not done everything by your book? I was valedictorian! I was homecoming queen! Prom queen! A cheerleader! I was on the debate team! I was on the student council! I’m in college for business! I have been the perfect child for you, and you don’t have the decency to hear me out!”

Your father and mother were shocked. You had never spoken back to them before.

“This is bullshit.” You walk away from your studies, grab your purse and walk out.

You drive, you drive until you reach the trailer park on the other side of town.

You didn’t even know what one was Eddie’s, but you were hoping that you would see his van.

You drive down the gravel road, and you hear nothing but your heart pounding and the crunch of the rocks beneath your tires.

You almost reach the end of the park when you take out a breath of relief when you see the van on the right side of the lot.

You pull up and park behind it before you breathe heavily.

Would he even want to see you? You weren’t sure but needed to see him, no matter how selfish you were.

You tentatively give the screen door a few knocks and wait anxiously.

A few moments pass before you hear footsteps, and a figure appears from behind the small window of the door.

You freeze when you see the older gentleman standing on the other side of the frame.

Shit. You woke up his uncle…. Again.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Munson,” you apologized before you went to go back to your car.

Stupid, why don’t you ever think before you act? You knew his uncles would be sleeping.

“Hold on now, are you that girl my boy has been hung up on.”

“Uh- yea, I guess so.” You stop in your tracks.

“The one who keeps waking me up?” He chuckles, and you physically cringe.

“Look about that. I am so sorry, I completely forgot, didn’t realize the time-“

“It’s ok, hun. Do you want to come in? Ed isn’t home, but he should be shortly.”

“Really?”

“Please.” He waves you in, and you walk back up the porch steps and inside Eddie’s home.

“Haven’t had a guest in a while; sorry about the mess”

You look around, and you can’t spot the mess he’s talking about.

“Don’t worry about me.” You stand in the room awkwardly, not knowing where to go.

“Have a seat, darling,” he offers a kitchen table chair.

“Want anything to drink? I’m making myself a coffee.”

“Coffee is nice”

“How do you take it?”

“Two sugars, one cream please”

“Coming right up.”

You fiddle with the hem of your sweater, not knowing what to do with your hands. Usually, you’re good at talking to people, strangers or not, but in this case, you can’t find the right words.

“I really am so-“

“If I hear you apologize one more time, I’ll ask you to wait outside.” He chuckles again.

“Oh- sor-,” you catch yourself and just stop talking altogether.

“So, I see why Ed is head over heels for you”

You blush as he sets a Garfield mug in front of you.

“You think he’s really head over heels?” you air quote.

“You have no idea. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone. Was starting to get worried.” He laughed again. He was happy Eddie was finally happy.

“I still think he’s mad at me for what happened.” You take a sip of the sweet liquid.

“He will get over it. He tried to hide it, but I’ve known him from the time he popped out of his mama. He is in love.”

You can’t help but feel the rush of heat travel to your cheeks again.

“I hope so.” You sigh just as the hinges to the front door squeak.

You both look over, and Eddie’s large frame fills the hole as he enters the living room. He’s changed out of his coveralls, but his hands and face are covered in grease.

“Princess?” He questions before a smile breaks his face.

He hasn’t seen you since the garage.

“Hi,” you stand up to hang him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks surprised.

“I told my parents.” You pull back.

“You what!” You didn’t think his chocolate eyes could get any bigger.

“I don’t want you to be a secret.” You cup his curious face in your hands.

“R-really?”

“No, baby. I love you. I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too.”

“So, do you forgive me?”

“After I talked some clear sense into the boy, he’s forgiven you.” Wayne nods his head.” You forgot for a moment that you weren’t alone.

“Shouldn’t you be hitting the road, old man?”

“Trying to get rid of the old guy so you can have quality time together… I see how it is.” He nods solemnly.

Your face heats up with embarrassment at the innuendo. You bury your face into Eddie’s chest to hide, and Eddie waves off his uncle to leave for his shift, and his uncle laughs menacingly as he shuts the door behind him.

“So…” you fill the silence now that you’re finally alone for the first time in months.

“I’m going to shower,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder and heads to the bathroom. You know, dirt and all,” he motions down his body.

“Ya-of course! I’ll uh, I’ll wait here.” You stand in the middle of the room, trying to take up as little space as possible.

“Relax, Princess, I’ll be right back.” he kisses your cheek before turning for the bathroom

As Eddie showered, you couldn’t help but snoop. You saw a door at the end of the hall, and you could only assume it was Eddie’s room based on what you saw through the crack. You slowly pushed the door open and realized your assumption was correct.

It looked exactly like you thought, and there were no surprises there.

You investigated further to find a lion costume, and you giggled to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” You jumped when you felt Eddie’s damp fingers graze up your arms.

“Oh my god! You scared me.” You clutch your chest.

“Couldn’t help myself, seized the opportunity.” He flipped you so your chests met.

His chest was bare and damp; only a towel was wrapped around his waist as he caged you in with his strong arms.

You suddenly realized how badly you wanted him. You craved him every second you were apart, and now you’re so close you could lean in and lick his tattooed chest.

“Like what you see, princess?” He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes.

“Yes,” you sigh unabashedly.

“Good. Daddy’s missed you, baby.” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you. His hands roam your body, he missed your soft skin, your breasts, your ass.

You fight back a moan as your pussy clenches at his words. Your body is on fire; you want to do everything to please him, to make him feel good, wanted, and needed.

Eddie’s hands made their final destination as his kiss deepened. His thick fingers slip into the pockets of your jeans and squeeze, making you roll your hips into his.

“Need you,” you moan as you pull him in closer by the towel, making it slip.

“Oops,” you giggle innocently like that’s not exactly what you wanted.

“Naughty girl,” Eddie chuckles darkly before he bends down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you over to the unmade bed.

You kiss his neck before he places you down on the mattress. A small growl leaves his lips when you lick his sweet spot.

You can feel his hard cock pressing into your lower stomach, only making your pussy weep for him.

Weeks without his touch have been punishment enough for your trepidations. Eddie’s hands found the button of your jeans and popped it open without struggle. The sound of your zipper was so loud as you waited for his hands to touch you. You saved time by taking off your top garments, but you needed to feel him on your skin.

“You’re so ready for me already, aren’t you, Princess?” His hands cupped your pussy over your sodden panties. Eddie watches your face as his fingers played with your clit. The look on your face was what he loved most. Your eyes glazed over, your mouth agape, and he hasn’t even started. The way you submit to him made him feral.

“Yes, daddy.” Your pussy was throbbing for him.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He stretches out like a cat as his head dips lower as his hands reach up your body to cup your breasts.

His hands mould themselves to your tits, and his tongue licks a hot wet strip up your soaked slick, basking in your taste.

He’s craved it ever since that day he left. He wants to devour you, to consume you until he is high off of you.

You grind your hips into his face; you can’t help it.

“Greedy girl,” he spoke into your pussy, making you quiver beneath him.

“Ohhh,” your back arched. Your hand gripped his long locks as you tugged them tightly. Eddie knew your body so well; it was like he was designed for you. All of your senses were ablaze, and his name fell from your lips.

“Not allowed to cum until I say so,” he growls. He knew you were close as his fingers slipped up into your cunt.

“W-what?” You stutter.

“You’ve been a bad girl”

“Daddy, please,” you begged, but Eddie didn’t like how whiney you’d become.

Before you cry at the loss of Eddie’s mouth in your cunt a sharp slap strikes your pussy.

Your body jerks, but you like it.

“You will listen to me.” You met his gaze, and you understood he wasn’t playing around.

“Sorry, Daddy.” You whispered.

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say with more confidence.

“Good girl, now give me what I want.”

He sits up, and you follow suit. You knew he wanted your mouth; it’s the least you could do for what you put him through.

You wanted him. Needed him, yearned for him.

The way Eddie has you revelling for him was exactly what he wanted. To see you like this, on your knees, begging to take him in your mouth.

“You want it so bad, don’t you, baby?” He asks as he’s laying on his back, you're between his knees.

“Yes,” you don’t dare touch him yet, but you want to.

“You’re going to beg for it, baby”

Now he was just being mean

“But-“

“Are you talking back to me?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Beg.”

“Please let me touch you.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, even though he had you beat in that department every time. “I want you in my mouth so badly, baby; I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. I crave you. I want it so bad, please. I want to make you feel so good, baby. I can make you feel so good if you let me.”

“Good girl. Now suck.”

Your mouth watered at the way he spoke to you. You loved how Eddie’s could get so commanding when you fucked.

You had his cock in your mouth within the second he stopped speaking.

You licked a long strip up the underside of his shaft that lay flat against his stomach. His cock was so hard for you it only make it all that more pleasurable, knowing he was also yearning as much as you were, if not more, even if his words didn’t show it.

“Take it’s that’s my good girl,” he praised.

His hands gripped your hair as he guided your mouth at his desired pace. Your saliva pooled in your mouth, creating a sensation so good that Eddie can’t help but fuck your mouth.

You loved it, and you wanted him to use you to remind him that only you can get him this way.

The feeling of his head almost hitting the back of your throat was exhilarating.

Eddie knows your limits and wouldn’t push your boundaries; he can’t do that to his princess.

Just before he’s about to cum, he pulls you off to let you breathe; his chest heaves as he waits for you to collect yourself.

“Come here.” He beckoned you to lay parallel with him.

Eddie takes you in a kiss that makes your world stop. A kiss that lets you know he truly does love you. The way he was so firm but so gentle, his soft lips moulded with your own. Your taste on his tongue and his taste on yours melded together as one. You roll on top of him; you want your bodies to be connected.

“Can you fuck me now? Please?” You grind your wet pussy overtop his hard cock, threatening to slip it inside.

“Is that what my princess wants?”

“Yes, so bad”

“I love it when you beg for it,” Eddie says, flipping you over. You let out a squeal at the unexpected movement.

“Gonna fuck you until you beg for me to stop” he slowly guides his hard cock into your tight wet pussy.

Your fingers grip his shoulders as he slips into you. You pull him down so his weight is fully on top of you; you need to feel close to him again.

Eddie’s lips attach themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until the mark of possession is dark and purple.

The consequences of having a large hickey when you get home are the last thing on your mind. The way he is making you feel trumps all.

His hips begin to pump his cock in and out of you. Finally, the sensation you’ve been yearning for is finally reality.

“Fuck yes!” You cry as his hips slap into your own, and his hand travels to your swollen clit.

“You like it when I touch you there, don’t you? Dirty girl can’t get enough of Daddy’s cock can she”

“No, Daddy!” You cry.

Eddie pulls up so he can watch his slick covered cock disappear inside of you with each thrust. His eyes are deranged with lust as he can’t look away. His hands gripped so tightly on your hips, moving your body to match his strokes as if you were just a fleshlight.

“Pl-please,” you stutter as his cock hits your g spot without warning.

“Please, what? Tell Daddy what you want”

“I want to cum”

The price Eddie felt that he already had you quivering under him, and it’s only been a few minutes since his cock had entered you.

“Babygirl, what’s to come already?” He mocks.

“Yes, please,” you seethe through your teeth.

“Not yet.”

“I can’t hold it.” Your eyes well up; it felt so good; the pressure built up in your lower stomach was wound so tightly you were about to explode. No way you could hold off.

Your pussy clamped on Eddie like a vice. He almost couldn’t pull out by how tight of a grip you held.

“Oh-oh,” he stuttered. You caught him off guard.

“You wanna be in charge, princess?” He cupped your face.

“No, I just want to cum” you continue to beg as his thrusts didn’t still.

“Cum for me” his hand continued to curl your bundle of nerves, and you fell apart. Your feral moans filled the room as your body was washed over in a wave of euphoria. You came so hard you think you blacked out for a moment.

“That’s it; there’s my girl; you fuckin came so good” Eddie still pumped himself into you. He didn’t want it to be over just yet. He was having so much fun playing with you. You were like his little doll.

“Come on, baby, ride me.” He helps lift you up even though your whole body feels like jello.

“Gonna bounce on Daddy’s cock like a good little bunny,” he praises, and your pussy floods itself once more.

When you sink down on his cock you see starts. The new angle was so much more filling than when he had you on your back.

“Oh my god,” your eyes roll back, and your jaw hands slack. Eddie seizes the opportunity to push his fingers into your mouth to suck on.

“Such a good girl. You like all your holes filled, huh? How about this one? We are missing one.” His free hand wraps around your ass and toys with your other hole.

“Yes,” you frantically nodded your head.

“Mmm, you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you? My little bunny. Just love to hop on this cock, huh?” He takes the fingers that were shoved in your mouth and slowly stretches you out. “That’s it, that’s my girl. Taking all of me so well. You like being so full, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Your legs burned, but you didn’t dare stop until he came. The sound of your wet skin slapping and moans filled the empty bedroom. The only two people that exist right now are you and Eddie. Eddie’s pleasure was at the top of mind, but you were getting close to that breaking point. Your second orgasm was getting closer and closer with each pump.

“You’re so tight, pretty baby; you gonna come again, f’me?”

You nod your head frantically as the words get caught in your throat.

“Awe, my pretty bunny can even speak, huh? You’re just sooo cock drunk for daddy’s cock, aren’t you, baby?”

Eddie’s words only aided your impending orgasm to crash through your whole body. You collapsed down into Eddie’s body as yours quivered in excitement over his. The way your pussy clamped down on Eddie’s cock had him cuming right along with you. Eddie’s head tingled as his hot load shot up into you. He couldn’t help but jerk his hips up on instinct to make sure you took all of him.

With a sigh of relief, Eddie hugged you closer to his body, not letting you pull off his softening cock just yet.

You let your weight fall on Eddie as you come down from your orgasm. Eddies tattooed arms wrapped around you and pulled you in your head to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, and your heart fell in sync with his soothing beat.

“You okay, Princess?”

“Mmmhhhmmmmmm,” you hum as you nuzzle your head deeper into the crook of his neck.

You could cry at how happy you were at this moment. Finally, you have everything you want wrapped in your arms.

“Good.” he kisses the top of your head, and you both fight the urge not to fall asleep like this.

After Eddie begrudgingly got up because he insisted you both had to clean up you both fell asleep and didn’t wake up until late in the evening.

Eddie ordered you both pizza, and you fell right back into your old ways. You can’t seem to wipe the permanent smile from your face.

Simple ‘I love you’s’ slip past each of your lips. It was disgusting to anyone who would be looking from the outside in, but you and Eddie were in your own bubble that nobody could break until you both jumped when there was a pounding on the front door.

Eddie shit up from your arms and ran to see who it is.

“What the?” He jerks the door open, and Ash makes her way inside.

“Dude, your parents are freaking out.”

“What?” You sit up.

“They called me, yelling about how you’ve lost your mind, that the Munson boy has you brainwashed and stormed out of the house.”

If you could roll your eyes any more, they would fall out of your skull.

“I know.” She agreed.

Eddie stood behind her nervously, biting his nails. Would you rethink everything? He couldn’t come between you and your parents.

“They will come around; they just need to meet him; they’ll see how good he is,” you plead.

“I don’t know, Princess.” The thought of him meeting your parents terrified him.

You get up off the couch and walk to Eddie. You cup his face to look him in the eye, and he melts in your touch.

“We will figure this out”

“You guys are gross.” Ash can’t help but smile. She’s so happy for both of you.

“Thanks, babe,” you smile at her.

“Okay, well, I know you’re okay. I’ll let your parentals know that you’re safe, and you’ll come home when they’re ready to talk to you and have calmed down.

“Thank you.”

After Ash left, you tried to get Eddie to calm down and relax. Eventually, he could do it when you slipped off the couch and sank between his legs.

The second your tongue touched his sensitive head, he was sufficiently relaxed. And once your mouth was dripping with his cum he thinks he couldn’t be more in love with you. The thought of meeting your parents wasn’t as scary. He will do everything and anything to keep you.

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” You wipe the corner of your mouth.

“I’ll meet your partners.”

“Are you sure?”

“If I get head like that? I’ll do anything you ask of me”

You giggle softly, and he takes you in his arms. You agree that tomorrow when you go home tomorrow.

With bated breath, Eddie and you walk into your childhood home, hand in hand.

“Hello?”

“Sweetheart! We were so worried.” Your mom rushed down the foyer hallway.

“Mom, I’m fine.”

Your mother spots the large and abrasive bruise on your neck. She stiffens up immediately when she also sees Eddie standing beside you.

“I see.”

“Mom, please.”

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

“Where is Dad?”

“I’m his chair.” She rolls her eyes.

The three of you walk to the living room, where your dad is reading the paper, unbothered.

“Dad,” you greet him.

“Nice of you to return your little tantrum faster.

“My tantrum?” You couldn’t believe how childish he had acted yesterday.

You feel Eddie’s hand tightening in yours, and you squeeze it back.

“Can we please talk?”

He tips the corner of his pepper to finally look up and realizes Eddie is in his house.

“What is he doing here?”

“If you won’t treat my boyfriend respectfully, we are leaving.”

“Sweetheart, wait, we can talk about this.” Your mom was trying to keep the peace.

“Good.” You lead Eddie to sit on the couch, but he doesn’t follow.

He walks over to your dad and reaches out his hand.

“Sir, I’m Eddie.” You watch as Eddie’s hand is held out firm.

Your dad stared back at him for a moment until you warned him.

Surprisingly, your dad took his hand and shook it, and you sighed a breath of relief.

“Hello, Edward.” You tried not to roll your eyes, but your eyes betrayed you.

“Y/N,” your mom warns.

“Sorry.”

Eddie also reaches out to your mother. He hands her the bouquet of flowers he had for her.

“Thank you, Eddie.” She smiles and sets them on the coffee table as they both sit. Your parents are on one side, you and Eddie are on the other.

“So,” your dad speaks.

With a deep breath, you start to speak.

“Over the summer, Eddie and I got really close, and we are together as a couple.”

“And now what? You’re going to live happily ever after?”

“Sir, with all due respect, your daughter can make her own choices. She has been the golden child her whole life. She respects and loves you both so much that he actually broke up with me in fear of what you both would say or do…

“ I don’t know if you noticed, but she is the best person everyone who has had the pleasure of knowing her has ever met. You and your wife have raised a wonderful person, and I am so lucky and grateful she chose me.”

“I’m doing everything in my power to make sure I live up to her standards. She is the most important person in my life, and I will treat her as she deserves. If that isn’t enough for you both, so be it, but she doesn’t need me to support her. She knows how to handle herself, and that’s all due to you guys.”

You held back tears as you listened to Eddie speak so highly of you. It was so nice to be validated.

“Is that right?” Your dad spoke.

“Yes, Sir.” Eddie nods and takes your hand in his.

“That’s very honourable of you, Edward.”

Were pigs flying? Did your dad just say something nice?

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Those are very kind things of you to say, Eddie. I’m sorry we jumped to conclusions about your intentions.

“I understand I have a reputation; I wasn’t dealt the best hand, but I love your daughter, and she loves me. I haven’t done anything to disrespect her, and I never plan to.”

Your parents stay silent and give one another a look. You held your breath until one of them spoke.

“We are going to have some rules for when you come over-“ you dad starts but your mom cuts him off.

“Eddie, would you like to stay for dinner?” Your mom offered.

“Yes, I would love to, ma’am.” Eddie smiled, and so did you.

You mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to your mom, and she gave you an assuring smile.

“What?”

“They are adults. Clearly, they have been safe over the summer; I'm sure they will keep it that way.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Eddie cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

Your eyes went wide, and cheeks flared up with embarrassment.

Your dad sat back with a grumble and flicked his newspaper, flustered as ever.

“I’ll go start dinner. You kids can go; I’ll let you know when Im finished.

“We did it!” You jumped into Eddie’s arms, and he spun you around once you entered your bedroom.

You celebrated with a kiss, and you slipped down his body, and your feet made contact with the floor.

“Can’t wait to show off my girl.” He cupped your face in both hands, “need to let all of Hawkins you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, Eddie Munson.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

~End~

tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths

@siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson

@taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie

@seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @usergeta @snowflowersstars246

@micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @ezzynf

@oneforthemunny @brxkenartt @ktiutsa @sofiaadela @guineveresghost @nabiiturner @eddiesguitarskills @comeonatmebruh @sky-full-0f-fl0wers

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie musnon smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson series #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #daddy!eddie munson #eddie munson #take me to the lakes

215 notes · View notes

coffeeshades · 3 months ago

Text

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART II

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 9.1k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). explicit sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! here's the second part, finally. i had lots of fun writing this one, happy reading <3

part one

After staying at Cillian's for awhile, you decided to go to the place you had rented. The truth is, you didn't want to leave, but you had already extended your stay longer than planned, and you wanted to give him space with his kids. And you also wanted to give him time to process the event that took place four nights ago in his bathroom. Or you wanted to give yourself time to process it.

At this point, you weren't sure who needed the space more.

It was all very confusing because, yes, you've had feelings for him for God knows how long, but you've squashed them down like a stubborn bug for the sake of your friendship and, most importantly, his family. Those two things were always at the forefront of your mind, guiding every action and decision. But now that his family is no longer a factor and the two of you almost crossed a line, it's hard to ignore those feelings.

Those feelings that crawl up your spine every time he smiles at you or brushes against your hand accidentally. Those feelings also make you feel like the worst person in the world, as if you're betraying his ex-wife and their children by even entertaining the idea of something more with him.

It's all so delicate.

The cottage is nestled between rolling green hills and the glimmering blue of a distant sea. The place is like a warm embrace. The floors are laid with wide, honey-colored wooden planks, their surface worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Exposed wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, their rich, dark wood adding a sense of history and sturdiness to the space. The walls are painted in a soft, creamy white. The master bedroom is a haven of tranquility, with white linen curtains billowing softly in the breeze from the open window. The bed, with its wrought iron frame, is piled high with quilts and pillows in soft shades of blue and green. It's the best sleep you've had in months.

It rained earlier today. You've stayed inside all day, not wanting to venture out into the wet weather. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the window was a soothing backdrop to your day, but it stopped around mid-afternoon, leaving behind a fresh, clean scent in the air.

Now you’re sitting at the rustic wooden table beneath the pergola, one leg tucked under you, grapevines overhead casting dappled shadows on the weathered wood. The garden around you is alive with color—wildflowers in every shade imaginable sway gently in the soft breeze, and the lavender and rosemary release their fragrant scent into the air.

Bon Iver’s voice drifts softly from your phone, which lies next to your notepad on the table. The music is haunting, its melancholy tones matching the weight in your chest. You’ve been here for hours, or maybe it’s only been minutes—time seems to blur together lately.

The notepad lies open beside you, filled with half-written lyrics, fragments of thoughts and emotions that you can’t quite bring yourself to finish. The pages are messy, scribbled lines crossed out, some words barely legible, as if your hand couldn’t keep up with the rush of thoughts.

You’ve been chasing this dream for so long—touring, recording, performing in front of thousands of people—but somewhere along the way, you’ve lost sight of why you started. The music that once brought you so much joy now feels like a burden; the words that once flowed effortlessly are now tangled up in doubt and frustration. The applause, the fame, the success—it’s all there, but it feels hollow. It feels lonely.

The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the water, but you’re too tired to move. You prop one leg up the chair and rest your chin on your hand. You focus on the water, trying to find some solace in its steady flow. But all you can feel is a deep, gnawing sense of unfulfillment, a yearning for something you can’t even name.

How pathetic.

You’re tired, so tired, and the dream that once seemed so bright now feels like a chore.

The door creaks open behind you, and you catch the faint sound of footsteps on the stone path. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. Cillian moves with a certain quietness, a soft presence that you’ve come to recognize. The footsteps grow closer until they stop just to your left.

"You should lock your door," he says, his voice low, carrying a hint of amusement but also concern.

You let out a small, tired laugh, not bothering to look up. "Didn’t think anyone would come by," you reply, your gaze still fixed on the stream; its gentle flow is the only thing that seems to make sense right now.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there, his shadow blending with yours. Then he pulls out the chair next to you, the wood scraping softly against the stone, and sits down. You can feel his eyes on you, but he doesn’t press, just lets the silence settle around you both.

You hear him shift beside you, and from the corner of your eye, you see him glance down at the notepad on the table. His gaze lingers on the unfinished words, but he doesn’t say anything about them. Instead, he just leans back in his chair, looking out at the water with you.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice softer, almost reflective. "I know that look. The one that says you’re miles away, stuck in your own head."

You don't respond, knowing that he understands you more than most people. The music on your phone shifts to another Bon Iver song, this time Beach Baby.

He continues. "You know, sometimes I think about all of it—this life, the fame, the roles I play. It’s bizarre, isn’t it? I spend so much time being someone else, living in someone else’s skin, that it’s easy to forget who I am when the cameras stop rolling."

His words hang in the air, and you turn your head slightly to look at him. His expression is thoughtful, his blue eyes distant, like he’s lost in his own memories. "It’s like… sometimes, I feel more like myself when I’m acting, when I’m being someone else. That's what made me fall in love with it in the first place. I just loved being somebody else. It’s easier, somehow. But then there are those moments, when the lights go out, and I’m just… me. And that’s when the loneliness creeps in."

You nod, understanding more than you’d like to admit. "It’s the same with music, I guess," you say quietly. "There’s this rush, this high, when you’re on stage, when everyone’s looking at you and you’re giving them everything you’ve got. But then it’s over, and you’re left with the silence, the emptiness. It’s like… who am I when it stops?"

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you can see the shared understanding in his eyes. It’s a strange comfort knowing that someone else gets it, that you’re not alone in this feeling of being lost.

You take a deep breath, the weight of the words you’ve been holding back suddenly becomes too heavy to keep inside. "I guess that's why I'm here. To escape. To escape the pressure, the expectations and…just be," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Everything is a performance. Everything. When we're out in the world, we're expected to act a certain way, to fit into a mold. We have to edit ourselves. As honest as we try to be, there's always a part of us that remains hidden. And it's exhausting."

Cillian nods, his gaze never leaving yours. "And when you’re alone, you can let go of that and let your mind just be still," he says, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s thought about this a lot. "It’s quite peaceful, isn’t it? But it’s also… terrifying. Being alone with your thoughts, with no distractions, no one to perform for. It’s like staring into a void sometimes."

You swallow hard, the truth of his words hitting you square in the chest. "Yeah, it is. But it’s also when I feel the most myself. When it’s just me, and I don’t have to be anything for anyone. Just… here, in the quiet, letting my mind rest."

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The garden around you is alive with the soft sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the gentle murmur of the stream, the distant call of a bird. Bon Iver’s music still plays from your phone—Holocene.

You break the silence. "Sometimes I think about it. I think about letting go of it." It's a terrifying thought but also strangely liberating. You don't know what it means completely yet, but just saying it out loud brings relief. Cillian just looks at you, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy.

It was so easy, existing with him.

In this moment, you feel a little less lost, a little more understood. And as the sun dips lower in the sky, a mix of orange and pink hues, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought.

The next day dawns softer, brighter. You wake up with a sense of calm that had been missing for a while. There’s a lingering warmth from yesterday, the conversation with Cillian still playing in the back of your mind. As you sat at the same wooden table this morning, you found yourself scribbling lyrics that flowed easier, more naturally. They’re different—slower, more deliberate. There’s a depth to them that feels right, as if you’re finally tapping into something real, something honest.

Last night had ended quietly. After that heavy talk in the garden, Cillian stayed for dinner. The two of you kept the conversation light, avoiding the unspoken tension. It was there, hovering between you, but neither of you brought it up. Instead, you talked about mundane things and watched Punch-Drunk Love in the quaint living room. He pointed out every little detail he liked in it, and you listened, soaking in the emotion in his voice.

When the movie ended, he promised to see you the next day, and you reassured him it was fine, that you understood his absence. You meant it, even though a part of you always ached for more of his presence.

Today, with that newfound energy, you decided to venture out. An early morning walk turned into a drive to the nearby town. You pulled on a cap and sunglasses—a funny and somewhat ineffective disguise, but it was something. The town was charming, with narrow cobblestone streets, quaint shops, and a relaxed pace. Most people didn’t give you a second glance, and for that you were grateful. It was nice to blend in, to be just another person out enjoying the day.

You wandered through the market, admired the local crafts, and even picked up a few things—a handmade bracelet, a small painting of the Irish countryside. Lunch was at a cozy little café, tucked away from the main street. You ordered a hearty bowl of seafood chowder, rich and warming, with fresh bread on the side. As you sat there savoring the meal, your phone buzzed. It was Cillian, asking if you wanted to grab drinks tonight. You hesitated, your mind running through a dozen reasons to say no, but in the end, you agreed. You wanted to see him again, even if you couldn’t quite admit how much.

Back at the cottage, you took your time getting ready. You set the atmosphere, lighting a few candles, playing some soft music in the background. It felt good to take care of yourself and put a little effort into how you looked. You chose a pair of jeans that fit just right, a black top, and your favorite leather jacket. Casual but confident. A swipe of red lipstick added a touch of boldness.

You didn’t know where the night would take you, but you felt ready.

Cillian arrived right on time, his car rolling up the gravel drive just as you slipped on your jacket. When you stepped outside, he was already out of the car, leaning casually against the door. He smiled when he saw you—a warm, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes flicking over your outfit with an appreciative glance.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, a hint of nerves bubbling up but quickly pushed aside.

The drive to the pub was easy, the conversation flowing effortlessly. You talked about your day, the town, the little things you’d picked up. He told you about his new movie coming out later this year, based on a novella set in the mid-1980s in a small Irish village. There was a comfort in the exchange, in the way your words mingled with the sound of the tires on the road.

When he pulled up outside the pub, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. It was a small, unassuming place, the kind of spot that felt like a well-kept secret. The sign above the door was weathered, the windows glowing warmly from the inside. It looked cozy, inviting.

“Do I need to bring out my disguise?” you asked, amused, as you glanced at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you’re safe here. No one’s going to bother us. I’ve been coming here for years. They don't give a shit about me.”

He was right. The pub was perfect—dimly lit, with a mix of old and new music playing in the background. The crowd was relaxed, more interested in their conversations than in who might be sitting at the next table. You found two empty stools at the bar and settled in.

Close to the drinks. Perfect.

You ordered beers—the kind that tasted awful but somehow fit the atmosphere. Cillian took a sip of his beer, and the reaction was immediate. He groaned, his head falling back as if in defeat, eyes closed as he savored—or perhaps endured—the taste. The dim light from the pub’s old-fashioned fixtures cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the shadow of stubble that had begun to form. His lips, still wet from the beer, parted in a wry smile that spoke volumes of his disdain for the drink. His brow furrowed slightly as he kept his eyes closed, letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh as if the beer was the worst thing he’d ever tasted.

It was a dramatic performance, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how absurdly handsome he looked even in that moment. There was something endearing about it—the way he could make something so ordinary seem so intense. His dark hair, slightly tousled, fell over his forehead, and you found yourself staring longer than you meant to.

“Bloody hell, that’s awful,” he muttered, finally opening his eyes and giving you a side glance. His blue eyes sparkled with trouble, the corners crinkling as he caught the expression on your face. “You should’ve seen yourself, though. Looked like you were trying to swallow glass.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, please. You looked like you were about to keel over from one sip,” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your voice.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and the amusement in his eyes deepened. “Can’t argue with that,” he admitted, taking another sip with a grimace. “Piss beer, this is. I’d almost prefer water.”

“Almost,” you teased, lifting your glass to take another drink. The foam clung to the rim as you sipped, and you made a point to keep your expression neutral, though you could feel the bitterness spreading across your tongue.

Cillian leaned in a bit closer, his Irish accent growing thicker with each drink. “But then, what would we have to complain about, eh? I think the shite beer is half the charm of this place.” His voice was smoother, more relaxed, and you noticed the way his words seemed to roll off his tongue, rich with the lilting cadence of his heritage. It was endearing, undeniably so, and you found it increasingly hard to focus on anything else.

“Is that what they call charm here? I must’ve missed the memo,” you quipped, smirking as you met his gaze. The clever back-and-forth felt natural, easy, and it warmed you more than the alcohol ever could.

“You’re lucky I’m here to explain it to ya,” he said, leaning in just a bit more, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Otherwise, you might’ve gone your whole life without knowing the joys of terrible Irish beer.”

“Oh, I’m so grateful,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words, but your smile gave you away. “I’ll add it to the list of things you’ve taught me.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter, and you noticed how close he had gotten. His arm was now resting casually on the back of your seat, and every so often, your knees would brush, those accidental touches sending a small, electric thrill through you. The pub’s atmosphere, once filled with distant conversations and the clinking of glasses, now seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The world outside the booth blurred away, and all that was left was Cillian’s presence, the sound of his voice, and the faint, intoxicating scent of him that mixed with the pub’s woody, earthy aroma.

The more you drank, the closer you both seemed to get, each sip loosening the barriers that had been in place. His laughter grew louder, more infectious, and his accent, more pronounced with every word, sent a shiver down your spine. It was more than just the alcohol—there was an ease between you that you hadn’t felt before, a sense of connection that went beyond the usual playful exchanges.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in even closer. “I think I’m starting to like this beer.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk, feeling a little more brave. “Is that so? Or is it just the company?”

He chuckled, his breath warm against your ear as he replied, “Maybe a bit of both.”

A familiar flutter stirred in your chest—the undeniable pull that you’d been trying to ignore for days. But tonight, in this pub, with its terrible beer and terrible lighting, you decided you didn’t want to fight it anymore. Not here, not with him.

You moved on to something stronger, whiskey that burned going down but left a warmth spreading through your chest that felt as intoxicating as the alcohol itself. With each sip, the edges of your nerves smoothed out, and you felt looser, braver, and a little sexier. You sat on the bar stool with your body angled slightly toward Cillian. The leather of your jacket creaked as you shifted, the red of your lipstick standing out against the dim light. You felt his gaze on you, not just looking, but really seeing you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck down to where your top dipped, lingering just a moment longer than usual.

His look was hungry, but it wasn’t just that—it was curious, intrigued. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning closer, his knee brushing against yours as he picked up his glass, watching you over the rim as he took a sip. The whiskey seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes, making them sharp and piercing, but there was softness there too, an openness that had grown.

“You know,” you began, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. “I was just thinking about the first time we met.”

His eyebrow arched in curiosity, and he leaned in a little closer, his interest piqued. “Oh yeah? That was… what, 7 years ago? At the Globes, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, taking another sip of your drink, the liquid courage giving you the confidence to broach the subject. “Yeah, that’s right. And you… well, let’s just say you weren’t exactly my biggest fan.”

Cillian looked taken aback, a surprised smile curving his lips. “What? I don’t remember it like that.”

“Oh, come on, Cill,” you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “You kind of hated me."

He laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t hate you. I just… I guess I had some preconceived notions about you."

“Preconceived notions?” you asked, a teasing glint in your eyes.

He hesitated, looking almost sheepish as he ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I thought you were this… I don’t know, shallow, self-absorbed person. Just someone who was there for the attention, you know?”

You let out a mock gasp, placing a hand over your heart in faux offense. “I’m wounded! I can’t believe you thought that about me, really.”

He chuckled, but there was a hint of regret in his voice as he added, “But I was wrong. I figured that out pretty quickly.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, leaning in a little closer, your voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “When exactly did you figure that out?”

“The first time we really talked,” he said, his voice equally soft, the words carrying a weight they hadn’t before. “After I saw you in the hall, crying. I don't know. You were so real, and I realized you weren’t what I thought. Not even close.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Wow, so I had to have a full-on breakdown just to convince you I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed diva? Good to know, Cill. I’ll make sure to cry more often around you.”

He laughed, bringing his fingertips to his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Not quite what I meant, but I guess it did the trick, didn’t it?”

You remembered that night vividly, how everything had seemed to spiral downward so quickly. “I was having the worst night,” you said laughing, a slight bitterness creeping into your tone as the memories resurfaced. “I’d just been dumped by the world’s biggest asshole that morning, and then there you were, tearing down everything I said with some esoteric joke.”

Cillian winced slightly, the regret more pronounced now. “Yeah… I wasn’t exactly charming, was I?”

“You were a bit of a jerk,” you admitted, but there was no malice in your words. “But you made up for it with that burger offer.”

A grin spread across his face as he remembered. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

“Well, I figured a burger with you was better than sulking alone,” you replied, smiling at the memory. “And it was. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was exactly what I needed.”

His expression softened. “I’m glad I asked, then.”

The bartender interrupted your conversation to ask if you wanted another round, and without a second thought, you both nodded in agreement. It seemed neither of you were ready to call it a night. The place was warmer now. As you waited for your drinks, your eyes drifted to the ceiling. Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" played softly in the background, the gentle melody weaving through the low murmur of conversation.

You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that a few couples had begun to dance, swaying gently to the music. There was something so natural, so easy about it, that you couldn’t resist the urge that bubbled up inside you. Turning back to Cillian, who was taking a sip of his drink, you couldn’t help but smile. “Come on,” you said, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Dance with me.”

Cillian raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. He muttered something in reply but you couldn’t quite make it out. It only made you more determined.

“I didn’t catch that,” you teased, leaning in closer as if trying to decipher his words. “But I know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh, do you, piano woman?” he shot back, his tone light but with a challenging edge.

“Yes,” you said, grinning. “You’re going to say that you don’t dance.”

Cillian chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “You’re right about that. I don’t.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a low, persuasive tone. “I know, but you’ll indulge me anyway.”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if weighing his options. Then, with a small, resigned sigh, he downed the rest of his drink in one go and set the glass back on the bar with a decisive thud. Before you could react, he grabbed your hand and stood up, pulling you along with him.

It caught you by surprise, the suddenness of it, especially considering he had just insisted he wasn’t the dancing type. As he led you toward the makeshift dance floor, he leaned in and said with a grin, “You’re lucky I like you.”

You laughed, a loud, genuine sound that felt as freeing as the night itself. “Oh, am I now?”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, because otherwise, there’s no way I’d be making a fool of myself like this.”

You shot back with a playful, “Well, let’s see just how much of a fool you really are, then.”

As you reached the space where others were already swaying to the music, Cillian took your hand and pulled you in close. You could feel the warmth of his body, the solidity of his frame as he moved with you, the two of you finding a rhythm that was surprisingly in sync. It wasn’t anything fancy—just simple, slow movements to match the easy tempo of the song—but it felt intimate, like you were the only two people in the room.

Cillian leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Did you know I'm a failed musician?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“Failed, huh? So, what happened? Couldn’t hack it with the rest of us rockstars?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. "Something like that. I was in a band, actually."

You leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “You? In a band? Color me shocked.”

It was kind of hot, imagining him on stage with a guitar in hand.

"We even had a record deal and everything."

"What happened?"

Cillian’s expression softened as he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of nostalgia. “My brother was still in school at the time, and my parents basically told me I could fuck up my life if I wanted, but I couldn’t take him down with me. So, it fell through.”

As you continued to sway together, the story of his past unraveled between you, each word carrying a hint of regret mixed with fond memories. “Those were great times, though,” he continued, his eyes distant as if he were seeing it all again. “I’d be out late, drinking, playing music in small pubs, thinking we were going to make it big. It was a bit of a rush, you know?”

You could imagine him there, young and reckless, with that same intensity in his eyes that he carried now, but wilder, untamed by the years. “So music was your first love, then?” you asked, your voice soft, genuinely curious.

He nodded, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I suppose it was. I had been playing instruments since I was little. There’s something about it that just… gets into your blood. But then, acting came along."

“When exactly did you know that's what you wanted?” you asked, wanting to peel back more layers of him.

His smile turned almost bashful, as if recalling a secret he hadn’t shared in a while. “There was this guy who ran the Cork theater company—had a huge man crush on him. He was brilliant, and I ended up doing a workshop with him. After that, I just pestered him for an audition until he gave in.”

You chuckled softly at the thought of a young Cillian, determined and probably a bit of a nuisance, chasing after something he wanted so badly. “And that was it?”

“Well, there was a drama module in school when I was about 16, 17—during the transition year. That’s when I first got the bug. Ended up starring in A Clockwork Orange. It was sexy, dangerous, unlike anything I’d ever seen. I loved playing someone else, losing myself in the character.”

He paused, then flashed a self-deprecating grin. “There’s not much to look at, but if you give me a minute…"

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his modesty. “You’re selling yourself short,” you teased, leaning in closer, your bodies moving in sync to the music. "Cill, you literally have an Oscar."

“Ah, the Oscar... just a glorified doorstop, really,” he quipped, his tone light but with that familiar undercurrent of humility.

"It's the work that matters, blah blah blah," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully. His eyes were crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Exactly," he agreed, before pulling you into a twirl.

"Do you miss it? you ask, hands circling his neck as you sway. "Music, I mean."

Cillian blew out a slow breath, his eyes growing thoughtful as he considered your question. “Sometimes,” he admitted. "But life has a way of taking you where you need to be, not where you want to be.”

His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and heavy, as you mulled them over. Is this where I need to be? The question echoed in your mind, reverberating through the deeper corners of your thoughts. You weren’t sure you had an answer. You were a successful artist, living the dream so many could only imagine, but there was always that lingering sense of something missing, a quiet ache that you couldn’t quite place.

Where do I need to be?

The thought spiraled, unfurling like an endless thread, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. You started questioning everything—your choices, your path, the very essence of who you were. Those words seemed to tap into something deep inside, a reservoir of doubts and desires that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, almost like you were talking to yourself more than to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, swaying slowly. See, this is the thing about Cillian, he had a way of making you feel seen and understood, even when you didn't fully understand yourself, even without saying a single word.

The warmth of Cillian's arm around you, the subtle way he moved—it all felt so natural, like this was where you were supposed to be. But then, the memory of four nights ago crept in—the way his breath had hitched as you said you weren't going to stop him from going further, the tension that crackled between you both like a live wire.

The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Heat flushed through your body, a dizzying sensation that made it hard to focus on anything other than the way he was looking at you. A knot formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing pulse.

The memory was like a current running through you, making you hyper-aware of every point of contact with him. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Your mind was swirling with thoughts, the alcohol making you bolder, more aware of the things left unsaid.

"I can't stop thinking about what almost happened the other day."

“What almost happened?”

He let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle, his lips dangerously nuzzled in your hair. “Don’t play coy with me, love. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your body reacted to his nearness. “I’ve tried to stop thinking about it,” he continued, his voice a hushed murmur that only you could hear, “but I can’t.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken desire. You wanted to let go of the restraint you’d been holding onto all night, but you were still aware of where you were, of the people around you—even if they weren’t paying you any attention. The thought of crossing that line, right here in the middle of the pub, was both thrilling and terrifying.

But Cillian, sensing your hesitation, didn’t push.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression serious but laced with that familiar smirk. “Wanna head out of here?” he asked, his voice low but with a note of urgency.

You didn’t need to think twice. “Yes,” you breathed, the word escaping your lips before you could stop it.

The night air hit you like a shock to the system as you stepped outside, the cool breeze carrying with it the faint scent of rain. The streets were quieter now, the lively noise of the pub fading into the background. You were drunk, the world tilting slightly with each step, and neither of you could drive.

Cillian pulled out his phone, his fingers deftly dialing the number for a cab. You watched him as he made the call, the way his jaw tensed slightly as he spoke, his voice low and calm despite the alcohol humming through his veins. There was something undeniably attractive about the way he carried himself, even in this moment of mundane practicality.

“What about your car?” you asked, your words slightly slurred but still coherent.

He glanced over at you, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll pick it up in the morning,” he replied smoothly, his accent curling around the words in that familiar, endearing way. “Don’t worry, love.”

The cab arrived not long after, the headlights cutting through the night as it pulled up to the curb. Cillian opened the door for you, and the two of you slid into the backseat, sitting close together but not touching. Not yet. The space between you crackled with unspoken tension, the thrill of anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

You found yourself playing with your ring-clad fingers, the cool metal a small distraction as the silence stretched out between you. The driver turned up the music a bit, and the opening chords of Inhaler’s "Dublin in Ecstasy" filled the car. The song was somehow fitting, its pulsing beat and haunting lyrics adding to the electric atmosphere.

It started to rain, the droplets tapping against the windows and turning them foggy, adding a sense of intimacy to the small, enclosed space. The outside world became a blur of lights and shadows, the city fading away as the cab sped through the streets. You could feel Cillian’s gaze on you, the weight of it almost tangible as you sat there, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

You turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The music became more intoxicating, the beat syncing with the rapid thudding of your heart. He noticed you bopping your head slightly to the rhythm, and a small, surprised smile crossed his face.

“You know this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you replied with playful confidence, “I know every song ever made, actually.”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Is that so? A human jukebox, then?”

“Something like that,” you teased, the conversation light but charged with something more, something neither of you could ignore any longer.

The cab’s interior felt smaller, more suffocating as you neared your destination. When you finally arrived at his place, Cillian paid the driver, and the two of you got out, raising your jackets over your heads to shield from the rain, which had grown heavier. You both ran to the entrance, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night as you giggled like teenagers, the spontaneity of it all making you feel light, carefree.

He fumbled with his keys for a moment, the sound of metal clinking against metal filling the air before he managed to unlock the door. You stepped inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the chill of the rain outside. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the faint glow of the night sky through the large windows. The shadows played across the walls, casting everything in a soft, almost ethereal light.

You tossed off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, your clothes clinging to your skin from the rain. You could feel the fabric sticking to your body, the dampness making you shiver slightly, but the heat in the room—and the heat between the two of you—kept you from feeling cold. Cillian wandered off somewhere for a moment, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, the anticipation almost unbearable.

When he returned, his eyes locked onto yours, a predatory glint in his gaze that made your breath hitch. He took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing as he asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of something dangerous, “What should we do now?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with suggestion, and you felt a rush of heat flood through you, your pulse quickening. You moved toward him, your steps slow and deliberate, closing the gap until you were inches away. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly despite the bravado in your words.

His hand reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek before trailing down to remove a stray piece of hair stuck to your face. His touch was light, almost reverent, but it sent sparks of electricity through your skin, making you feel like you were on fire. His hand continued its path down your arm, and you followed it with your eyes, watching as his fingers traced the outline of your veins, the simple action making your breath catch in your throat.

He moved his hand up to your shoulder, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your top before slowly sliding it down, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your skin burned under his touch, a mix of desire and something else—something that felt like shame, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It felt too good, too right.

His hand slid up to your neck, his grip firm but not painful as he held you there, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. You clung to his black t-shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as you tried to steady yourself, but the room seemed to spin around you, the intensity of the moment making you dizzy.

Cillian’s eyes bore into yours, his expression dark and filled with an unspoken promise as he whispered, his voice rough and filled with desire, “Tell me what you want.”

You wanted him—every part of him. You wanted to forget everything else, to lose yourself in this moment, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for days. And as his grip tightened slightly on your neck, pulling you closer until your lips were just a breath away from his, you knew there was no turning back.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

So he did. He kissed you, long and slow. His lips were soft yet urgent, and you melted into his touch. Your hands found their way to his damp hair, tangling in the strands as you deepened the kiss, savoring every moment. His breath mingled with yours, warm and laced with the faint taste of whiskey, his hands still cradling your face as if you were something fragile, something to be cherished.

But then the kiss deepened, the restraint unraveling as the need between you grew too powerful to contain. His hands slid from your face down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The kiss became more urgent, more demanding, as if he was trying to consume you, to lose himself in you. You responded in kind, your own hands gripping his t-shirt, pulling him closer, wanting more—needing more. The heat between you intensified, the tenderness giving way to something hotter, something that felt like it had been a long time coming.

The rain continued to patter softly against the windows, a distant sound that seemed to fade into the background as your focus narrowed to just him—to the way his hands gripped your waist, to the way his breath hitched when you bit down softly on his lower lip.

You started moving backward, the need to feel him against you overwhelming any thought of where this might be going. Your feet stumbled slightly as you both moved toward the couch, the dim light from the windows casting your entwined shadows across the floor. He guided you, his hands firm and sure, but there was a tenderness in the way he led you, as if he was still holding back, still trying to keep a grasp on the control that was slipping away.

You reached the edge of the couch, and he paused for a moment, his gaze intense as he looked at you, his chest heaving with the effort to catch his breath. “You're in control here,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, thick with the weight of the question, with the possibility of what was about to happen. "We stop whenever you want to, okay?"

Ever so polite, you thought. You answered him by pulling him down with you, your lips finding his again with a renewed urgency. The cushions gave way beneath you, the soft fabric enveloping you both as you sank into it. His body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding you.

As the kiss deepened, became more frantic, more desperate, you could feel the tension in him—the barely restrained control he was struggling to maintain. His hands roamed over your body, landing on your jeans and slowly playing with the button, a silent request for permission.

"Don't stop now," you teased, your voice barely audible against his lips. He responded by deepening the kiss even further, his hands moving with purpose as he unbuttoned your jeans. He stopped for a moment, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, his hands taking off your shoes before sliding your jeans down your legs. He positioned himself between your legs once again, kissing you rough this time.

The couch was vast and soft underneath you as one of his hands traveled up your thigh—still not as high as you wanted it. You let out a needy moan, encouraging him. When his fingers brushed against the edge of your already wet panties, you couldn't help but arch your back in anticipation. He pushed them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. When his fingertips made contact with the wetness of your folds, he groaned too, in a way you found very satisfying.

"I've thought about this…a lot," he murmured, slipping a finger inside you, making you gasp with pleasure. "What you might sound like. What you might taste like. What you might feel like."

He pulled away from you swiftly, and you moaned at the loss. He kneeled down in front of you, his gaze intense as he leaned in to kiss your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine. He pulled down your panties. You went stiff, suddenly aware of how exposed you were. He opened your thighs a little more, as if he wanted to see more. "I want to make you feel good," he whispered. "Let me taste you."

"Yes," you breathed out.

You couldn't stop looking at him as he pleasured you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. Each flick of his tongue and gentle bite made you arch your back in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. He groaned in pleasure, and you opened your thighs wider. His tongue was thorough and deliberate, exploring every inch of you with precision. Your hands grabbed the couch cushions, trying to ground yourself as you felt yourself spiraling into pure bliss. And just when you started to roll your hips, he slid two fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you gasp and moan uncontrollably.

It was too much. Pleasure consumed you as you arched your back violently against his touch and you moaned his name over and over again, letting go. You were drunk on him— his touch, his mouth, his scent—lost in the euphoria of the moment.

"Fuckin' incredible."

Well, yes, fucking incredible indeed. But not as incredible as it would feel to have him inside you completely, filling every inch of you. To reduce him to the whimpering mess he had just turned you into.

Before Cillian could do anything, you sat up and pushed him flat to the floor. You were both drunk and too eager to make it to the bedroom, so you might as well just do it right there on the living room rug.

He grunted in surprise, but his hands quickly found their way to your hips as you straddled him, pulling you closer. You removed your top, your breasts spilling out as you leaned down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as you pull away from his mouth, pulling his black t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

He stopped breathing as you worked your way down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and you eagerly slid them down his legs, revealing his growing arousal.

When your fingers wrapped around it—fuck—his skin felt hot and smooth against your touch, his breath hitching. You positioned yourself to take him in your mouth, savoring the taste of his desire as you licked a slow, teasing path along his cock. Cillian let out a ragged moan, his hands tangling in your hair.

You lifted your eyes. He had propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with his lips parted, pupils blown.

You had him.

You took him deeper, relishing the way he arched into your mouth, his groans spurring you on. With each flick of your tongue, you could feel him losing control, surrendering to the pleasure you were giving him. "Fuck, stop," he gasped, his voice strained with need. "I need to be inside you."

“Condom?” you asked, the question hanging in the thick air between you.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice rough, almost pleading.

You hesitated for just a second. “I don’t mind… if you don’t.”

For a moment, he froze, his blue eyes darkening as they searched yours, as if to make sure he’d heard you right. Then, with a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, he nodded.

You released him with a smirk and sat up, swung over him. You positioned yourself so that his hands were on your hips, guiding you down onto him. The anticipation was electric, every nerve in your body alive with the need to be closer to him, to feel him, completely and without anything between you.

As you sank onto him, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, a low moan escaping from both of you. The feeling of being filled by him sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire between you that burned hotter with each thrust. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you matched his rhythm, lost in the intensity of the moment.

This was going to end you.

His movements became more urgent, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name. The room was filled with the sound of your mingled gasps and moans, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo off the walls. He felt so good, so right. His thrusts became more deep and harsh—you wanted even more. As if he read your mind, he sat up against the couch and kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Bloody hell," he murmured against your lips, both his hands grabbed your face as he looked deeply into your eyes, and you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and circling your hips in rhythm with his. Your breasts pressed against his chest, the heat between you both rising as your bodies moved in perfect synchronization. He was close—you were close. His hands roamed your back, your ass, and your breasts, and you threw your head back when his mouth found its way to your nipples.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, "Yes, oh—" you screamed as white-hot pleasure shot through your body, causing you both to reach the peak of ecstasy together. You felt his cock swell, filling you completely as he released with a guttural groan.

The intensity of the moment left you both breathless, bodies entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. He had leaned back to the floor, and you had gone with him. He was rubbing your back, and your face was pressed to his chest.

"You okay, love?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You hummed, feeling content and safe in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

You stayed like that for a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, the quiet rhythm of his breathing syncing with yours. His fingers kept tracing those gentle patterns on your back, grounding you, reminding you that you were still here, still connected. The afterglow wrapped around you both, a warmth that made you feel safe, cherished. You could still feel him inside you.

“How bad would it be if we just stayed here?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the moment. There was a part of you that didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the spell.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you could feel the rumble against your cheek. “Well, love,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, “I’m not sure how comfortable the floor will be in about twenty minutes, but I’d say it’s worth a try if you are.”

You laughed, the sound light and free. “Fair point,” you conceded, shifting slightly to look up at him. His eyes were warm, a little teasing, but there was an underlying tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“Come on,” he said gently, his hands sliding down your sides as he carefully helped you up. “Let’s get cleaned up. I promise the bed is much more inviting.”

He rose to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. You accepted, your legs feeling a little shaky as you stood, still a bit lightheaded from everything that had just happened. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the care in his touch.

Together, you made your way upstairs, his arm draped around your shoulders as he guided you toward his bedroom. The space was warm, cozy, with a lived-in feel that made it undeniably his. The bed was unmade, sheets rumpled, as if he’d just gotten out of it before coming to find you.

He led you to the bathroom, where the soft glow of a single light illuminated the space. He turned on the shower, testing the water temperature before gesturing for you to step inside. You did, letting the hot water cascade over you, washing away the remnants of the night, though the memory of it clung to your skin. He joined you a moment later, his hands gentle as he helped you rinse off, his touch tender, almost reverent. You stood under the water together, letting the steam envelope you both.

When you were both clean, he handed you a towel, wrapping another around his waist. He left the bathroom for a moment and returned with a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, offering them to you.

“Here,” he said with a soft smile. “This will do.”

You took the clothes, slipping them on. The fabric was soft, worn in, and it smelled like him—woodsy, with a hint of something earthy and warm. You found yourself breathing it in, the scent comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

When you were both dressed, he led you to the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping in beside you. He held the blanket up for you, and you slid in next to him, the cool sheets a welcome contrast to the warmth of his body. He immediately pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist as you nestled into his side, your head resting on his chest once more.

The room was dark, but the faint light from outside filtered in through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the walls. You could hear the rain still pattering against the window, a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy between you. His hand found yours under the covers, fingers intertwining as he held you close, his breath warm against your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat under your palm, steady and reassuring, and it lulled you into a state of deep relaxation.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. You don't know for what exactly you were thanking him, but it felt like the right thing to say in that moment.

He responded with a gentle squeeze of your hand, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

You didn’t need to say anything more. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. You both knew that tonight had changed something between you, something profound and unnameable, but for now, it was enough to just be here, together.

a/n: there you have it, i hope you guys liked it!! please like, reblog and comment. i wanna hear your thoughts! and as always, thank you for the support <3

#cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian fic #cillian murphy fluff #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #my writing

192 notes · View notes

im-just-a-boy-guys · 3 months ago

Note

Would you be willing to write something along the lines of a female human getting bred by some minotaurs? The idea of being used like a breeding cow for those massive creatures just sends me in a dizzy (and the size difference *swoons*)

I absolutely love your work and would love to see your take on this ❤️

This is so HOT. ESPECIALLY bc one of my system members has a huge hucow kink. MAKE SURE YOU TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS IF YOU SEND AN ASK. you won't be notified unless it's non anonymous.

PART 2 IS OUT NOW!

(This story is kinda long, but I got excited, and there's lots of sex :3 if you want to scroll down to the juicy bits, the bg changes from pink to green.

If you want part 2 I'd be happy to oblige!

FEM! AFAB READER ON MINOTAUR BREEDING FARM. MILKING/BREEDING/DRUGGING!

(Psa, I do my nest to correct spelling, but some things may be misspelled. :] )

You had just signed up for a summer job working on a farm. You're relatively strong and have managed to build muscle while you were doing other forms of work and heavy lifting. You'd been trying to bulk up to make this easier and had gained a little but of weight that had mainly gone to your chest.

This made you slightly insecure because it made it harder to shop for good bras, but hopefully that could be changed when you had enough money from this job to do so.

You receive a phone call, the voice heavy and gruff.

"Hello? Is this (y/n)?"

"Yes it is!", you answered in your bubbly work voice, though you were very exited, hoping it was one of the places you'd applied for.

"Wonderful. This is the dairy farm Cali Dairy? I'm looking at your application, and you look like you'd be a perfect fit for what we're looking for."

He sounded so sweet, and both this and the acceptance made your heart race. He was a good sign that the company would probably be good to its employees.

"That's amazing! When and where do I meet you? Is there an interviewing process for information or will that he sent to me?"

He chuckled softly into the phone at your eagerness.

"Yes. The information will be sent to the email attached to your resume."

"Thank you so much! Have a great day!"

"You too."

He replied as you ended the call. You squealed into your pillow and anxiously awaited the email.

A ping sounded on your computer and you clicked on the notification. The email reads,

___________

"Dear applicant,

We are happy to welcome you to the Cali Dairy family!

Please meet with the supervisor, Daniel, at 477 Milky Whey, Sacramento, California. 95872. On Monday, August 5th at 10.30 AM.

(This is not a real place, and I hope you like the pun.)

You will be moving to one of our in-house apartments. You will be shown around and be given ample time to move and adjust.

If you have any questions, please reply to this email and we will get back to you soon.

Sincerely, Cali Dairy.

_________

When you applied, you saw something about comfortability moving for work and had selected yes, but you didn't know the extent of it. You didn't think much about it and figured that anything you needed to know would be explained on Monday when you met the supervisor.

You wondered if the supervisor was the same kind of sounding man on the phone but passed the thought off to the side as you began to plan on packing.

The coming week and a half passed as you began to pack up your own apartment, you wanted to make the move as easy as you possibly could to work sooner and you figured you'd just unpack after your shifts.

You prepared your outfit for the next day excitedly, deciding on a baggy older shirt with a bike design on it and a pair of your straight leg work jeans. You didn't expect to work on the first day, but you wanted to be prepared just in case.

The next morning, you woke to your 8 am alarm, your body vibrating with excitement. You took a 30 minuite shower, making sure to use extra of all of your various coffee scented soaps and scrubs. You topped it off with a heavily scented, "whisky and coffee" lotion and dryed your hair, and put it up in an old soft tee shirt, a trick you'd learned from your mom.

You slipped I your clothes, by now 8:45 and pulled the tee shirt off of your head and list let your hair down, de-tangling it quickly before grabbing your phone, keys, and anything else you'd need.

You shoved the various things into your bag and drove to the address you were given. The further and further out you got from the city. The open roads lead into fields of various crops and trees. Redwoods were tall and towered lightly along the road side and you enjoyed the scenery. If this was where you were going to be, you'd be happy about it. The drive was so peaceful, and much better than the traffic you were used to.

You arrived at a large, farm house- looking building and pulled into a paved driveway full of a few other vehicles. As you looked around, there were various small walking trails to other buildings with various lables and signs scattered almost like a college campus. The sign on the building you pulled up two read, "reception and Managerial office."

You smiled and gathered your things, turning the car engine off and stepping out. You could feel the energy charging through your veins as you walked over to the steps of the quaint building.

As you entered, there was a front desk, no one was there but there was a small paper taped to the front of the desk.

"New hire, the office is down the hallway, the supervisor should be waiting for you."

You meandered down the hallway and gently rapped ( a soft knock, usually with two out of your 4 main fingers) softly on the door.

"Come in." You heard the low voice through the door, deep but still light. You entered and looked around the office before your eyes landed on the bigger -man? Behind the desk.

You'd seen many other species in your day to day but you'd never met a Minotaur, but there one sat. His thin coat was shiny on the parts that weren't covered by the sizable black polo shirt he was wearing. You could see just below his waist to the brown leather belt and blue jeans he wore.

They squeezed lightly around his large thighs, you couldn't help but stare and hadn't noticed you were.

"Hello, y/n?"

You smiled as you were snapped back to reality.

"Yes, that's me!", your face flushed. He looked kind of nice in what he was wearing.

"I hope I'm not under dressed - I sincerely thought I might be doing some lifting today or just starting work, so I wanted to be sure -"

He cut you off and smiled - "It's alright. I don't blame you. I'm just a manager so don't let my atire fool you. I'll show you around if you'd like."

You beamed and nodded, clutching your bag over your shoulder. He stood, and you could hear the wooden floor creak under his weight. He was huge, at least a couple of feet taller than you.

"My name is Daniel, by the way. It's very nice to meet you."He held his big hand out to shake.

You were just now looking at his features, a slightly humanoid bull head sat on strong shoulders, the colors of his fur were so beautiful, deep browns blending into whites around his nose and eyes. His eyes were a deep brown and they shown in the sun as he looked down at you.

You took his hand to shake it, and he gripped your hand very softly and shook once. He held your hand so gently for such a bug creature. He was so beautiful, it was all you could think about. As he passed you, you realized that you were only chest hight, the thought made you blush deeply.

"You coming?" He chuckled as he walked out of the office.

You scrambled to get behind him as he led the way, and you were happy to follow. As you two walked along the path ways. You passed a smaller building that read "Medic" and locked your head.

"First thing, you go into this building. This is where you will have your physical, where our nurse will check you over and make sure you're fit to work."

You nod and walk into the building. He doesn't follow.

It's a one room doctors office. You walk in and see a slender red head turned away from you, facing a counter. She seems to be investigating a sample of some kind.

She must've heard you walk in as she turned around halfway.

"Hey! How can I help you? You need a bandaid or something?"

She didn't recognize you hut was clearly preoccupied.

"I'm a new hire - I'm here for my physical?" You offered this answer shyly. She was very pretty. You saw her fully as she turned around, her face was thin and her nose slightly pointed. She turned to the side to grab something, a Greek nose. She was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, even more than the burley man you'd left him outside.

Her eyes were a bright, shining blue. "A physical, huh? It's been a minute since we've gotten a newbie. Alright, sit on the table." She gestured to the doctors table.

You hopped up onto the table, which caused your large chest to bounce and recoil. You blushed and gently put your hand on your chest to hold them still.

She looked to the side at you and smiled.

"Yeah, big chests are so much fun-" she gestured to her own chest, which was actually now that you looked. Almost just as big as yours.

"That being said, we're going to do some measurements and get you a special support bra. The world you do is going to have a lot of moving, so we want you to have the maximum posture assistance and comfort that helps protect your back and chest. This does mean that I'm going to have to touch your chest. Are you alright with that?",

You nodded, and the blush spread from your cheeks to your ears. "Yes, that'll be okay -"

She nodded and pulled out a clip board and readied it. With one hand. She gently felt across your chest, very gently squeezing and prodding in different places. She would ask if you could feel a touch here and asked if it hurt when she pressed in another spot, all of this caused your pussy to scream. Her hands were so gentle, and your chest was so sensitive.

She began to pick up on it and would grab harder here and there. She finally stopped and wrote down a few things on her clipboard.

"Bra size looks to be a double or triple D? Thirty-six, maybe?"

She was right, "yeah, 36 DDD." The woman nodded and waved her hand.

"Alright, we're done. You can go. My name is Dr Sylvia. It's a pleasure to meet you, and you are?"

"(Y/n), nice to meet you too."

"Alright, you can go now."

You thanked her and left the building, finding Daniel leaning against the wall to the side of the door.

"You done already?"

"Yes."

"Alright." He continued to lead you around

To various buildings, one of which reading "Spa" as you passed it.

"Oh there's a spa?", Daniel nodded.

"We take good care of our employees here. We make sure they're all relaxed. Relaxed workers work harder and better. Science fact." He smiled proudly.

He showed you around until about 2:30pm and asked you if you had any questions. You asked about your moving situation and what was paid for and what wasn't. He informed you that in a couple of days or when you were done packing, moving men would come help me move my things if I call him to ask.

Once everything was sorted, you made your way home, through the beautiful fields and trees just kind of talking in your own head.

Your mind and heart raced as you thought about your attractive new coworkers. They were both so incredible looking and both seemed so genuine and sweet.

Once you arrived home, you found your cunt drooling and a light buzzing in your clit, you needed to get off so badly. You wandered over to your drawer, undressing from the waist down with one hand as you fumble with the buttons. Once that gentle hum starts, you practically shove it between your legs, crying out as the vibrations sent pulses through your throbbing cunt.

You fought to get out of your underwear, desperate to shove something inside of yourself. You were just desperate to have something in you - God anything.

You thrust your index and middle finger into your wet hole, moving them around right up against your g spot. Your moans fill the room, not caring much about your neighbors. It was one of your last nights anyway.

This turned into hours and hours of teasing and edging yourself. Rolling around in bed and imagining the two beautiful creatures tossing you between the two of them, choking on the Minotaur's cock while the Dr ate your pussy, this thought alone was enough to make you ruin your sheets with cum, squiriting violently and crying out.

You breathed hard as your orgasm shook you softly as it fizzled out. "Fuck-", you mumbled to yourself and cleaned up, changing the sheets.

You weren't required to come into work until your things were moved so you spent the next week finishing packing and called Daniel. You found yourself giddy to talk with him.

"Hello?"

"Hey! It's (y/n) everything is all packed up and I'm ready to move officially whenever."

"Alright. Make sure you mark boxes fragile, then come here in your car and bring a bag for your essentials, I'll show you your apartment and give you your key."

You giggled softly,covering the mouth peace of the phone. "Yep! No problem!", you excitedly grabbed a marker and made absolutely certain that anything you COULD carry you would. Any small things you would need were transported to your car and you drove to the place you had met the larger man the week prior.

Once she arrived, the sun was setting and she walked to where she knew the man's office was and found the door open. He stood, and she once again remembered her size.

"Alright. I'm going to drive my stuck, you follow me in your car and I'll show you where the apartment is."You followed him out and started up your car. You watched him get into his and follow him around the plot of land to a set of nice-looking buildings with balconies.

He parks in front of building number 256. Daniel smiled as he stepped out of His car. He tossed me my key and you cought it, smiling smugly. He raised an eyebrow to you as if to playfully question your ego. Daniel walked foward and you followed him to aparrtment 27,, thankfully one of the upper apartments. this meant you wouldnt hav an upstairs neighbor. when you unlocked the door, you walked in and gasped at how big the space was.

"Do you like it? We'd be happy to change the room if it's not to your liking.", You gasped and shook your head.

"No no no- it's amazing! This is the biggest apartment I've ever seen!"

You walked in to a large, light hardwood floor, that space leading into an open kitchen across the room from the front door. In the far left of the living room, a hallway that probobly lead to the bed and bathroom. You wandered across the room and into the hallway, to the left was the bathroom, showcasing a large walk- in, rain shower. in the corner, a large round bath tub.

You gasped more in awe. These people had to be some sort of loaded - you'd figured being it was 26 dollars an hour, at least that was the most you'd ever been paid.

As you walked through, Daniel watched you carefully, watching your expression and smiling to himself. You walked into the bedroom, which was carpeted and ginormous. On the far side, right-hand side of the room, there was a door to the balcony.

In the middle of the room, there was a mattress up against the wall.

"I've just received a text that the guys are at your place, and I have them grabbing your bed frame in a separate car. We supply the mattress because we like to ensure your comfort. This brand has been proven to be the most comfortable."

You nod absentmindedly, just excited you were at the new place.

"You start Wednesday, I'll leave you to unpack and get as comfortable as you can." He bowed his head lightly as a goodbye and left the apartment.

You were honestly pretty tired from all of the excitement and just fell asleep on the empty mattress, which wad infact the most comfortable one you'd ever laid on.

Over the coming three days, you unpacked and built your bedframe, turning your apartment more and more into your own every day. The movers had brought your things unto the living room area while you were asleep, which only worried you slightly, but nothing had happened, so you brushed it off.

It was now your real first day. You hear a ring at your doorbell and see a package on the ground. You take it inside and unpack what looks to be a new braw, the one the Dr was talking about assumedly.

You slip it on and adjust yourself as needed, finding joy in the comfort and support. There was an adjustable posture corrector built in with small straps to help adjust from under your arms.

You slipped on a tee shirt over the bra, just another one of your old vintage tees you used for work and your work jeans. You receive a text telling you to meet the Dr at the 'stables' in 15 minutes.

You were super excited. You loved form animals and wondered which one you'd be working with, saying stables would probably mean horses or just a holding for cows.

You drove over to the stable section and parked your car in the small lot in front of the building. You could see a pen that stretched around the back side of the building, but you couldn't see what was in the. The Dr Sylvia met you at the door and smiled.

"Well well. So I see the bra came in. Looks good on you if you don't mind me saying. Is jt comfortable?"

You smiled. "Absolutely! I love it."

A sly smirk slipped across her face. "I'm going to be honest, "You're not going to wear it more in your free time to help build posture and, of course, for when you go out. But this job is alittle different from most. "

This confused you, of course, because in that case, why make the bra and say it was for work? Regardless, she followed her into the building as we're met with an incredibly loud wiring and another sound you couldn't quite place because the sound was so overiden by the machine noise.

The Dr showed you to a small stall that was to your surprise, empty aside from a few things you weren't paying much attention to. The Dr smiled and pulled a small syringe out of her pocket full of a clear liquid.

You cocked your head slightly. "This is an ati-biotic that will help with possible issues with the bulls. Just incase there's anything that we don't catch in time it keeps you from getting sick."

This made sense, so you held out your arm for her, and she shot it into a vein. Within minutes, you felt lightly energetic and then very euphoric. Sylvia smiled as she saw this take effect, and your mind fogged.

She led you into the contraption you hadn't really seen until now, a small bench with arm and leg cuffs. "Undress please", you knew better but couldn't help it. Whatever this was was a truth serum on steroids or something.

Except, instead of telling the truth, you just did everything you were told. You stripped down sheepishly, and she helped you straddle the bench and lock your limbs into place. She adjusted the bench so the back was slightly higher than the front.

Your breasts hung over the front, and a separate arm slipped into place around them, holding your nipples to be aimed down at the ground.

You could feel your chest begin to ache, yout tits felt- full? You were just coming to terms with the possibility of what was about to happen and began to panic internally, though with no real affect to your body, which felt heavily sedated.

You could hear the machine noise start to get quieter, and moans radiated from the stalls around you. Your face flushed as you came to further terms with what was going to happen, then it clicked - bulls. Was there going to be more Minotaurs?

Just then, a door opened up behind you, and you heard huffing as a solution was spread across your entrance, sticking gently between your lips.

"Alright. You are perfectly safe, and all of our bulls know to be gentle with our newcomers. This doesn't mean they won't be exited, but you'll definitely adjust. This Gate behind you will open, and the bulls will be let in."

Sylvia smiled softly and gently ran her fingers through your hair. "You're gorgeous." She winked and left the stall. You heard a latch lock into place, and a buzzer sound as the gate behind you opened

You tried to listen, but it was harder and harder to stay focused. You were feeling less and less sentient by the minute, and God did your tits feel heavy.

You heard scuffing against the hay that coated the wooden floor and tried to listen harder, not knowing what to expect. There sounded like multiple creatures stepping.

The big hulking creatures investigated you, groping softly at your flesh.

"She's perfect," one of them grunted.

"I call first dibs!" You heard what sounded like impact and assumed they were pushing each other around.

Were they fighting over you? The idea made you swoon.

Soon, you felt something wide pressing gently against your entrance.

"Fuck she's so tight!-", one of them moaned out softly as he began to gently tease his tip into your hole. You moaned out softly. You'd had sex a few times, but it was nothing special, but these creatures were so huge. Their tip felt bigger than most toys you'd used if you stacked them onto each other.

He was infact very gentle at first, the other Minotaur walked over infront of you, his cock was room hard and the size of your head, you couldn't help but drool as he gently opened your mouth with his thumb.

"She's pretty too- can't wait to fuck her throat. Her lips are so plush she looks like she gives good head-", He chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your lips, slipping it into your mouth. You sucked softly, you couldn't help it.

Your cunt grew wetter and tried to stretch, gripping desperately at the other creatures' tip. You moaned over the Minotaur in front of you, and he raised his tip to your lips, pulling his thumb out.

You found yourself opening your mouth for him, though not sure if any of it would fit. He chuckled.

"Adam, this one's very eager to please - she might be my new favorite."

"Mine too - fuuck I could do this all day with just my head. I can't wait to feel her pussy when I'm all the way in-"

You blushed softly. You were so watery, but you did feel happy to be used to be useful. He gently pressed his head against your lips, and you tried to greet him with your tongue, licking softly around the exposed head.

You even tried to lean forward slightly to accommodate you. He smiled and stepped forward.

"Oh my god, her tongue is god send-"

"Were gonna have to swap - I wanna try -"

This must've been normal to them. They talked and bickered like this is a daily occurance- favorite? Maybe they'd pick you more- his cock feels so good and it was barely in at all.

As time passed, they began to push themselves further and further into your holes, making themselves fit. Soon enough, adam was keeping a steady rythem and fucking you, his tip alone tickled your cervix without even trying, while the other held your jaw gently while he fucked into your throat.

"Just breathe through your nose and relax your throat, sweetheart. Makes it hurt less."

You found yourself blushing. He was so kind of considering. You listened to his advice, and it made the experience more heavenly. You had been trying to figure out how to do it comfortably for a while. You had a tough oral fixation that you'd been trying to fulfill.

This was everything you never knew you always wanted, your cunt dripped wet around Adam's cock and you drooled on the others, taking them both as far into you as you could.

"How's her mouth feel, Erin?"

"Fucking amazing, she's so good at it!"

You smiled to the best of your ability around him and tried to move your tongue as he thrusted.

Erin's hands moved to the back of your head to steady it as he moved, yiu could feel his cock throbbing in your throat and even swallowed around him to help him finish, moaning lewdly anyway from Adam's roughness with your pussy.

"Fuck I'm so close!", Erin called out and his hips picked up speed, your brain went almost entirely foggy, this was the best thing you'd ever experienced, Adam groaned and he picked up speed aswell, you could feel his knot pressing up against your entranced as he desperately tried to fuck it into you.

Within five minutes he'd managed to shove his knot in your drooling cunt and Erin pushed his knot to your lips as he came harshly down your throat, you choked lightly but tried your best to swallow.

Adam spewed cum what felt like right into your womb and you cried out and coughed slightly against Eric's length. He pulled out of your mouth and you gasped for air.

"You're stuck here for a minute, doll. Gotta make sure you get bred properly."

You nodded and gripped at his shaft with your walls. During the wait period, Erin smiled and petted your head gently, playing with your hair.

"You did such a good job for us. We're gonna swap out and have s'more fun with you, and then you'll get your pretty tits milked." He chuckled and gropped one of your aching breasts. You whined and struggled lightly against your restraints.

"I'd better not. Dr Sylvia gets irritated if we milk you and waste it."

You were confused about the milking, but you truly felt like a breeding cow. It was your favorite thing.

After a moment, finally Adam's knot swelling went down, and he was able to pull out of you. His cum spilled out of you and slipped down your thighs. It was so warm. They swapped places and you finally were eye to eye with the cock that had filled you to your cervix and allyou could think about was getting it into your mouth.

You opened your mouth for him, sticking your togue out. He pressed his head to your tongue and immediately shoved unto your throat. As Adam plunged unto your throat, Erin pushed violently into your stretched, swollen pussy.

They both let go of being gentle, fucking you roughly from both ends, your brain just melted into what you now knew to be affection from the two bulls. If you were turned into a cow for them. So be it.

You were reeling and losing your mind as they used you, your cunt gripped at Eric harshly as you came violently and squirted against the bench you were against.

This caused Eric to shove his knot in you, he cane quicker than he thought he could, he'd never had a pissy so good and he was so sensitive from the first use that it was so easy.

Adam, however, was not satisfied so easily, gripping your head and absentmindedly fucking roughly into your throat, his knot pressing against the your mouth. You did everything you could just like with the other, massaging his coks with your throat as you moaned and swallowed against him. He groaned and gripped your hair as his cock throbbed.

"Fuck- fuck- right there, fuck your tongue is so good!", He grunted as he pushed into your throat as far as he could and came down your throat, you swallowed against him, sucking on him like a straw.

He pulled out of your mouth and chuckled, petting your head softly. Both of the creatures bent down in front of you and littered your face with licks and kisses, both of them groping you softly and affectionately.

"You were wonderful, love. Thank you for your time." They left through the gate. They came in and pressed a button that closed the gate, a soft alarm sounded, and the Dr came in.

"Well, did you have fun on your first day?"

She smiled and carried a machine into the stall, a pump of some kind and attached the sucker's to your breasts.

You nodded haphazardly, and she turned on the machine. Your tits were so sensitive, but them finally being drained from being so heavy was so relieving. Your legs quivered and sme smiled up at you, crouched on the ground.

"Look at you! You took them so well. And you'll do this every day and be driven back to your apartment by an assistant. We'll have someone take your car back to the parking lot, and you can be picked up as well to make it easier. We just have to assign you a caretaker. If you don't mind, I'd like that to be me."

She looked up at you with those beautiful eyes, and how could you say no? Your tits were empty before you knew it, and she detached the sucker's.

"Look at all the milk you made! Wow!"

She sat it down to the side and gathered your clothes for you and wrapped you up in a robe shed briyght, helping you back to the little golf cart she used to get around. She helped you in and handed you your clothes to hold and put your milk container on the back.

She drove you to your apartment, letting you rest quietly. Once you arrived at your building, she helped you up the stairs and into your apartment, which she was given an extra key to. Sylvia helped you into your room and laid you down on the bed.

"You should rest for an hour and then take a bath to help relax your muscles and, of course, clean up. Have a good night."

She left you alone to your dazed thoughts. You sobered up from whatever shot she gave you and cleaned yourself up. You were so excited for tomorrow.

328 notes · View notes

wilbursprincess · 9 months ago

Note

Superstar bur or simpbur dealing with a bratty bottom w/ a breeding kink?

No I'm not calling myself out

💕

“We Both Know Who’s In Charge, Darling”

Superstarbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Dom!Superstarbur, Sub!Reader, Brat!Reader, blowjob, brat taming, breeding kink (use protection, kids), spanking, begging, praising and degrading, plenty of aftercare, is this the unholiest fic yet?

Hi anon… you called me out too <3 ANYWAY I’ve been wanting to write something along these lines for quite some time, but now that I have an ask… I have my coffee, new Hermitcraft to watch, and I am ready :D

I took a lot of inspiration from @clitsuckerer for the blowjob scene (her fics are some of the best I’ve read on here! Apple Of My Eye, Gamer Fingers, and Mommy Vibes are my favorites).

Fic below cut!

“Aww, look at you, all dressed up for me,” Wilbur coos, admiring the tight red dress hugging every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination. “Don’t you think it’s a bit long, though?”

I reach behind me, tugging at the hem barely covering my ass. “Very funny. How long until our dinner reservation?”

Standing behind me, I feel his hands trace down my waist, out to my hips, palming and squeezing my ass. “Long enough. What do you say?”

“Aw, someone can’t control himself.” I murmur sweetly, giggling as his gaze hardens. “Why don’t you try asking nicely?”

Wilbur smirks, lifting me onto the kitchen counter and nudging my legs apart with his knee. “Why don’t you try asking nicely?” His fingers slip up my thigh, tracing lazy circles. “We both know who’s in charge, darling.”

“Do we?” I retort, tugging on his tie.

Two fingers nudge past my thong, slipping inside me and curling to hit the perfect spot, making me swallow down a groan. “We do,” Wilbur says sternly. “I can feel how wet you are all over your thighs, darling. You really like to run that little mouth of yours, hm?”

“Whatever, you love it,” I say sweetly. “Or is that just something in your pocket?”

Wilbur doesn’t reply, just pumps his fingers in and out of me faster. My forehead falls onto his shoulder, his other hand reading behind me to help me ride his fingers.

“There you go, darling,” he whispers. “There you go. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

I’m too far gone to do anything else, my kisses turning into nibbles and bites as I get closer and closer. Just as my core tightens, the pleasure reaching a peak…

He stops.

“Wilbur, c’mon,” I whine. “Why?”

“Did you really think it would be that easy?” He says, amusement clear in his voice. “No, I just thought that since you like to run your mouth that much, you should be putting it to better use.”

I’m too frustrated to reply, letting myself be scooped into Wilbur’s arms and carried into our bedroom. He sets me on the floor, just in front of the edge of our bed, sitting in front of me and loosening his tie.

“Go on, you know what to do,” he says sweetly.

“And why should I?” I retort with a sly smile. “If you didn’t let me finish, why should I get you off?”

“Because if you do, then I’ll reward you.” Wilbur replies, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Reward me how?”

“By railing you so hard into the mattress, all you’ll be able to say is ‘Yes, Wilbur.” He says, crossing his arms and looking smug. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

I oblige.

“Good girl,” he praises me, unbuttoning his fly and tapping his cock a few times on my tongue. “Aww, I love seeing you so eager to suck me off.”

Wilbur roughly grabs my hair, tugging on it as I bob my head up and down. My eyes water as he slides deeper into my throat, but I keep going, desperate to please him.

“Look at that,” he observes once I’ve got all of him in my mouth, not a small feat by any means. “You were being such a brat earlier, and now you’re desperate to take me all in your throat.”

Obviously, I can’t reply, face burning from how smug he sounds.

I let him use my mouth however he wants, his hand on the nape of my neck letting him set pace and thrust. I fight my gag reflex, spit dripping down onto my chin as he nudges deeper into my throat.

“You take my cock so well,” Wilbur murmurs, moaning in satisfaction. “Damn, it’s almost like you were made to, my God.”

The praise makes me wetter, squirming around on the floor of our bedroom.

I pull back a little to start stroking him, too, which, depending on how you see it, was either a mistake or a genius idea. A few seconds later, he groans and explodes, coating my throat, lips, and chin in sticky white.

Panting, I lick everything off my lips, wiping my chin, looking up at Wilbur and waiting for my praise.

“Fucking hell,” he gasps, smiling at the remnants on my face. “Get on the bed and take off your clothes.”

You don’t have to tell me twice.

I unbuckle my heels and tug off my dress and thong, groaning as I watch Wilbur’s shirt hit the floor, followed by his pants and underwear.

“Turn around, baby,” he murmurs, and when I do, he slides his arm into the curve of my waist and rubs himself through the slick between my thighs. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

“Says the man who came about 5 seconds after I started using my hand in a blowjob,” I giggle, pressing my ass against him. “Go on, you were saying something about ruining me?”

His hand harshly slaps the smooth skin. “You little brat.”

“You love it,” I retort. “And you know I’m into getting spanked.”

Stinging pain hits the left, the right, and the left again. “You sure you want to play it like this?”

“Always.” I give Wilbur my biggest, brattiest smile over my shoulder, letting out a moan when he gives me another harsh spank. “Be careful, you don’t want to hurt your wrist.”

“Your ass is going to be red raw when I’m finished with you,” he says, giving me the hardest spank yet and smiling when I yelp. “It might not make you learn your lesson, but it sure is fun.”

I sigh happily. “Sure is.”

After one last slap, he slides his cock through the wetness coating my thighs, pushing himself inside slowly, the two of us moaning in unison until he’s fully buried inside me.

“So wet for me, baby girl,” Wilbur says, pushing on my lower back so my ass arches higher. “You look so good from this angle.”

“You sure it’s all in?” I coo. “Not sure I feel anything.”

He thrusts into me so hard I gasp, burying my face in my arms. “What was that?” Wilbur says dangerously, tugging sharply on my hair. “Say it again? Didn’t quite hear you.”

All I manage is a moan, and he snorts in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”

I hate how smug he sounds, but my head’s too fuzzy to complain. The only sounds filling the room are Wilbur’s groans, my soft moans, and the sound of bare skin on bare skin. He’s got a firm grasp on my hair, letting me bounce back against his thrusts so he hits me even deeper.

“Can’t run your mouth when you’re getting fucked dumb?” He taunts, tugging my hair to make me nod. “That’s my little cockslut.”

My legs feel like jelly, the only thing holding me up is Wilbur’s arm firmly in the curve of my waist. My knees are shaking so much that it looks like my entire body is quaking under him, and it’s clear he’s enjoying how much of a shaky mess I am.

“I’m close,” I manage to sigh out, groaning when Wilbur slows down. “What are you doing?”

He chuckles. “Since you couldn’t bite your tongue earlier, it only makes sense you want to keep talking. Beg for it.”

“Wilbur!” I say indignantly as he lets go of my hair and rests a thumb on my clit. “Please!”

“Please what, baby girl?” To really rub salt in the wound, he circles my clit a few times. “What do you want?”

“I want…” I swallow down the moan threatening to spill out of my mouth. “You.. to let me-“

My sentence cuts off as he lays yet another harsh spank on my ass. “What was that? You cut off.”

Frustrated tears prick the corners of my eyes. “You cut me off!”

“Life isn’t fair, princess,” he says lightly, flicking my clit a few times and laughing as my knees shake. “What were you saying?”

“Let me finish!” I finally cry out. “Please, let me finish!”

Wilbur pretends to be surprised at my answer. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

I’m too exhausted to even balk at that, not bothering to muffle the noises I’m making as he finally pushes me closer and closer to my climax.

“You want me to fill you up, darling?” He whispers, holding himself back from finishing before me. “You want me to breed you?”

“God, yes, please,” I moan out, practically screaming as he tips me over the edge and I ride out the waves of pleasure. Just as I’m slowly coming down from my shattering high, I hear Wilbur let out a long, low moan and bury his head in my shoulder as he spills inside me. The warmth fills me from the inside out as he makes no move to pull out.

“Wouldn’t want to let any of this go to waste, huh?” He murmurs softly, flipping me onto my back, replacing his cock with his fingers and thrusting his cum back into me. “There we go, sweetheart.”

His lips meet mine in a gentle, tender kiss, all the dominance gone in a heartbeat. “You alright? I wasn’t too rough?”

I sleepily shake my head. “You’re good. Are we late for the reservation?”

Wilbur nods. “We are. It’s ok, though, I’d rather spend the evening in bed with you.”

“But it’s with so many music producers!” I gasp, trying to sit up. “This could be monumental for you and your band-“

“No, baby, it’s fine,” he promises. “There will be plenty more chances for my band. Spending time with you is far more important.”

The soft glow of love washes over my entire body, and I nestle closer into his chest. “Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure about something in my life,” Wilbur murmurs. “How about we go have a shower together and polish off the rest of that chocolate cake in bed afterwards? Maybe watching a movie as well?”

I kiss his forehead. “You’re speaking my language.”

233 notes · View notes

luvvyouforever · 7 months ago

Text

starcrossed - azriel shadowsinger x reader

-> in a world in which the cauldron grew tired of mates never finding each other, faeries are born with a constellation of stars on their skin that match only one other faerie. after years of never finding your match, everything snapped into place.

-> acotar soulmate au! some sweet fluff mostly with a little action in it :) i just have something for writing about azriel meeting his mate i can't help it. i also don't know how i feel about this writing so don't judge it too harshly please <3

rhysand's town home was packed with the night court and the utter largeness of their presence. azriel and cassian did not bother to tuck their wings in and instead let them drape over the back of the couch where they sat with legs spread. mor and amren took up arm chairs on either side of the couch, feyre was seated calmly next to rhysand, and you were perched on the edge of the couch closest to azriel.

an emergency meeting was called and within seconds of the communication going out, the living room was filled and heartbeats were racing. emergency meetings were reserved for dire cases only as each member of the court was impossibly busy with their own duties.

"there's a lot of movement happening in hybern right now and we don't like the sound of it," rhysand said with a serious, grave voice. "things are going to happen sooner than we would like, but we need to be prepared. knowledgeable."

azriel shifted in his seat which made you straighten out your back and prepare for your duties. you had an odd position in the night court as both healer and spy when need be. you worked and trained with azriel to assist him in the field and when he shifted in his seat, you knew that you were about to be gone for several days once more.

"azriel and y/n will go to hybern to listen in and try to figure out what they are working towards. mor will stay here in velaris in case what they are preparing holds danger over our people's heads. cassian, feyre, and i will go to illyria and alert them of new information. amren will continue to read these books because it may just be our last line of defense," rhysand called out orders with the grace of a high lord who was made for this job.

you noticed how feyre's hands trembled with nervousness and her fingers ran over the small pattern of stars on her wrist. rhysand's hand intertwined with hers and as an act of reassurance, he flipped his hand over, revealing his own pattern of stars to feyre again.

watching the interaction, your own hand traveled up to your collarbone where there rested your own little constellation of stars. the stars that would signal to you that you had found your mate, the one for you, forever. and yet, the years pass and you had yet to find that person with the matching constellation along their collarbone.

suddenly, azriel's hand touching you shoulder brought you out of your reverie. "come on, let's go get ready," he said. you stood up and followed him up the stairs of the town home to the roof where he held his arms open for you to climb into so you didn't have to walk to the house of wind.

"do you think this'll be a bad mission?" you asked azriel over the whipping of wind around your heads. his wing subtlety closed in on you so that you wouldn't have to strain to hear his words.

"i don't know. hybern could be planning anything. we need to be on our guard at all times," he answered back. even his shadows seemed to be nervous about what was coming. they whirled around your figure, one coming to rest on your collarbone, just above the stars.

azriel's feet landed with a soft thud on the shores of hybern. with gentle movements, he released you from his arms where you adjusted your clothing after so long spent flying. you were dressed in illyrian fighting gear, blades strapped all along your chest. down along your waist, however, were not more weapons but rather healing supplies that would prove important in a dire situation.

azriel was a vision of coldness. his gaze was fixed upon the land before him and despite the wind from the sea messing your hair, he was perfectly fine. on his body was matching illyrian fighting gear with his blue syphons gleaming brightly. truth-teller was sitting on his torso, gems glinting in the sun.

there was a second where you felt something deep down flutter, an unexplained notion that azriel was attractive but it was squashed upon entry. you had a job to do and that job was not staring at the high lord's spymaster despite the odd urges in your chest calling you to do so.

azriel sent his shadows ahead of the two of you as scouts, whispering in his ear of the things they saw ahead. you followed behind him silently, feet carefully stepping on the ground and eyes scanning every inch of what lay before you.

suddenly, a shadow perked up and pointed azriel to the left of both of you. there, a soft hum sounded from something and you weren't sure what it was which was all the more terrifying. azriel didn't dare to move an inch closer and your feet held the same pause.

"what is that?" you whispered as quietly as possible.

"i don't know," he whispered back. "stay alert. i don't want anything to happen to you."

later, when you were safe, you would wonder what prompted him to say that. was it the fact that you held the healing supplies which he knew nothing about? was it because you were his best partner in these missions? or was there something else? the pull that you had felt earlier?

none of that mattered right now though. right now, there was a mysterious hum coming from the left of you on territory that it is growing more dangerous to be on by the minute. azriel thought for a second, his careful eyes trained to his side. slowly, he went to grab a small blade from the holster around his hip when his large wing brushed against the ground. within a matter of milliseconds, hundreds of ash daggers shot from the origin of the humming.

you rolled, dodged, ducked, and winnowed all to avoid the attack. in the midst of the chaos, you lost sight of azriel which petrified you.

"azriel!" you shouted with little care about who on hybern heard you.

in just a few short moments, the ash dagger swarm stopped and in the silence, you heard a faint male groaning coming from behind you. with a turn quick enough to make your head spin, you found azriel on the ground, clutching at his sides which were rapidly spilling blood. with a whisper of a swear, you dropped to your knees to examine the damage.

your hands found the buttons on his gear, but with great effort, his hands stopped yours. "you gotta get out of here," he choked out.

"no, i'm not leaving you here. i won't," you whispered back, shrugging his grip on your hands off. it would be difficult to do, but you could winnow the two of you out of here, at least off of hybern's land. your palm found azriel's shoulder and for a second you felt like you were falling, but then you appeared on the shores away from hybern. the mortal lands, you realized. it was a risky manuever, but the beach seemed clear of humans. despite azriel's groans, you dragged him back from the ocean and to the forest line.

the fighting gear you had on was impossibly heavy and only inhibiting your ability to efficiently help azriel. with a quick flourish, you tugged off the leather, revealing the thin tank top you wore underneath. there at the top of your collarbone peaked the tattoo of stars which you had completely forgotten about. azriel made no noise, but his eyes immediately fell to the patch.

"i have to take these off of you so i can see where you're hurt," you told azriel. if he protested, you would still have to do it. the wound was too deep and too messy to heal from the outside.

gently, you pulled the leather away from azriel's body which caused him to groan more. with one final wince, he laid on the rough ground shirtless. there, at the top of his collarbone, was a littering of stars. in the same pattern as your own. there was no notice on your part as the wound your hands were currently working on healing took up your attention.

but then, just as you reached for an ointment tucked in the pocket of your pants, there was a touch to your hand. you looked up finally with a wild look in your eyes that told azriel how panicked you were about losing him.

that moment of eye contact, while azriel is slowly healing himself, while you were breathing deeply to calm your worry, is when it snapped. your eyes shot down to his collarbone where the tattoo of stars seemed to shine. azriel reached out a weak arm to trace your own version of the stars on your collarbone.

"i really didn't expect that, you know?" you whispered.

there was that pull again, the one from earlier. and then azriel's shadows reached out to you again, dancing around your form, circling the spot on your collarbone as they had before. they knew long before you did.

"there's no better time like the present," azriel shrugged but immediately followed it up with a groan.

you were shook back into reality and continued your healing. your eyes kept flitting back and forth from the wound closing on azriel's side to the stars on his collarbone that matched yours.

the man that you had spent so long side by side with. the man that you learnt everything from. the man that was your closest companion for years. when he felt strong enough, you would winnow him closer and closer to the night court before he could fly into velaris. there, you'd take him to your kitchen, make him dinner, and accept the bond.

for now, you appreciated this feeling of quiet understanding in both of you that you had found the one you were meant to be with, no matter if the bond snapped into place on a beach in the mortal lands with your healing hands tirelessly working on your mate.

#acotar #acotar series #fluff #fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #i don't know how to feel about this #but i think i like it #i don't know

271 notes · View notes

bouncybongfairy · 7 months ago

Text

Caught Dead

The Creature x Fem Reader

Summary: Your homecoming date leaves you for another girl. On your sad and drunk walk home, you come across a memorial service for a Victorian man. Honoring his music, you wander in and play a score he wrote. The creature is so moved by your playing, he comes back from the dead and witnesses your talent first hand.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Tooth Rotting Fluff

Not Proof Read

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Usually homecoming is a night that everyone raves about. Prom is always so pretentious and stressful. Whereas homecoming was more carefree; at least that’s how it’s depicted in romance novels and fanfiction. The guy you were originally going with ended up ditching you for another girl. Your best friend was with her boyfriend and third wheeling wasn’t something you're interested in. The best course of action was to walk home, stopping at a liquor store on the way. The old woman behind the counter looked you up and down, this didn’t offend you though. Mascara stained tears left streaks of gray lined down your face. Wearing a big pink dress that you used to feel really good in. Now it felt more like a cone of shame, drawing attention to what a hot mess you were.

“Can I please get a dutch honey and small bottle of Skol,” you ask, setting a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

“Normally I would laugh and send you away. You’re lucky I only have fifteen minutes until I clock out and how pathetic you look right now,” she said, taking your money and bagging the items.

Even though it was a little back handed, you were grateful for her kindness. Chasing the vodka down with cigarettes as you walked. Humming tunes to yourself, enjoying the crisp night air. The sound of classical music caught your attention, a funeral home. It was one of the only places that had its doors open still. You sit outside on the steps, gutting your wrap before rolling the blunt.

“Were you coming in?” a voice came from the doorway.

“Oh um, yeah just give me a second,” you say.

“Take your time,” the older gentleman gave you a warm smile before heading back inside.

You tucked the blunt behind your ear, shoving the half empty bottle into your purse before walking in. It wasn’t an open casket funeral but more of a memorial service. There was a piano in the corner of the room, a vase of red roses sitting on top of the beautiful wood. The funeral director explained that a bunch of this young man’s music was recently discovered. A museum recently bought the music and discovered he was never given a proper funeral so they wandered to give him a proper memorial.

To honor him and the beautiful scores that were never showcased the way they deserved. Apparently the party from the museum didn’t stay for long, the director said they mostly took pictures for their website. After reading more about his story, you felt more connected to him. Apparently his girl left him for another man. Similar to what happened at the dance tonight. Grabbing one of the scores and sitting at the piano. It could be because you were drunk but as the sorrowful melody filled the room tears pricked into your eyes again. Imagining how his feelings of betrayal and grief probably poured through his pen while writing this song.

Not being able to shake the fact that you just learned first hand how being left can feel. Bitter because deep down your biggest fear for the night came true; lonely from being too embarrassed to admit you were someone's second choice. Tears rolling down your face as you let yourself drown in sorrow. Unbenounced to you, The Creature not only heard his music so beautifully remastered but your cries. So moved by feeling and hearing your broken heart crying from your chest, he begins to stir. Pushing himself out of the ground and making his way towards the music.

Lighting your blunt inside the room, you were tipsy and didn’t care if there were repercussions. Letting it hang off your lips and you played, trying not to let the smoke in your eyes. Meanwhile the creature was getting hung up on the mechanics of his body. Slowly stumbling towards the illuminated building, stopping dead in his tracks once seeing you. The light above the ceiling was casting down on you. Highlighting your eyelashes and flyaways, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. How expressive your face was while playing the notes, looking up every once to let tears run down your face. Showing how the mascara ran down your neck. His daze was broken once he saw the worker coming back in the room, pointing his finger and yelling. This enraged him; stomping over there to stop the man from approaching you. Having some trouble with the stairs but after finally made his way in.

Grabbing the sides of his old man's head and snapping his neck. You gasp, the blunt dropping out of your mouth and onto the floor. Going to pick it up but being taken back but The Creature. He stepped over the body and slowly inched towards you. You pull your knees up to your chest and press your back against the wall. He was now hovering over you, staring at you before leaning down. Getting on one knee and picking up the blunt, standing back up.

Now closer, his lower stomach pressed against your knees. Putting the dutch between your lips with one hand and brushing the hair out of your eyes with the other. You put your knees down and pulled him onto the bench. Starting to play his score, focusing on keys and not his… appearance. As you played he grunted at a specific measure every time which led you to investigate why,

“What? This part?” you replayed it a couple times. He pointed out a certain note and then to another, shifting his finger back and forth. In your interpretation, he was prompting you to switch the notes. Him humming in satisfaction at the change.

“Yeah that does sound a lot smoother,” you point out.

Remembering the body, you both leave in order to avoid responsibility. Walking home together, playing your music out loud for him to enjoy. Before the dark felt scary and daunting but now you were enjoying the night air. Completely ignorant to reality but never feeling better.

#lisa frankenstein fanfiction #lisa frankenstein fic #lisa frankenstein imagine #the creature x reader #lisa frankenstein the creature x reader #the creature x y/n #the creature x you #the creature x fem reader #lisa frankenstein #cole sprouse

256 notes · View notes

pipsyy · 3 days ago

Text

roommate! hamzah, part 2

hamzah x f!reader smut! lowkey sub!hamzah.

hi everyone! i wasn't expecting this much support on my first story, so thank you so much for all the kind words and likes <3. if anyone has any requests for me to write about, please message me!

summary: this is a direct continuation, right from where part 1 left off, and i hope you all enjoy.

warnings: smut! smut! smut under cut! please do not read if you are under the age of 18.

word count: 1100

“Hi,” you say, giggling breathlessly as you came face to face with his growing length.

“H-hey,” he managed to stutter out. Hamzah’s eyes were wide and glossy. He let out a small whimper as you touched his sensitive cock. It twitched once, then twice, as you caressed it in your hand. You dropped to your knees in front of the dark-haired man and he looked as though he was about to faint. His mouth was dry in anticipation and he licked his cracking lips. You placed a soft kiss on his tip, already dripping in pre-cum. He whined.

“Is that good, baby?” you asked him, in a soft, sultry voice that you didn’t even know could come from your throat.

“Mmh,” he responded, nodding his head aggressively. You licked the underside of his cock once and he shuddered, already almost threatening to spill his load everywhere. You began kitten-licking his tip, grabbing the rest of his length in your hands. Hamzah didn’t know what to do with his hands, but opted to put one in your hair, tying it up into a make-shift ponytail. Slowly, you took his entire length into your mouth. He was big and you were unable to take him all without gagging. You began moving your mouth up and down his length and Hamzah led out a heady groan, head tilted backwards towards the ceiling. You ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, feeling the thick vein that ran from the tip to the base. You suppressed the gag that threatened to escape your lips as you nuzzled your nose against the thick, curly hair at the base of Hamzah’s cock. You inhaled his scent, as you let him begin to use your mouth however he wished.

His hips were beginning to stutter, as he grabbed your hair tightly, guiding your mouth along the length of his cock. He let out a flurry of groans and whines, eyes alternating between squeezing shut and staring down at you taking his length. Doe eyes wide and innocent, you held eye contact with him, hollowing out your cheeks, and he let out a long moan. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth and you knew he was close. Abruptly, you pulled your mouth off of his length with a pop, and he let out a whine at the lack of contact.

“W-why’d you stop?” he asked, voice high-pitched and breathy. You didn’t respond, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand and standing up. You pushed Hamzah towards the bed, pushing him down to sit on the edge. You moved to straddle his thick thighs, rubbing your uncovered pussy on his hard, wet length. His hands moved to roughly grip your waist and you intertwined your fingers in his hair.

“I want you inside of me,” you whispered into his ear. Hamzah shuddered at the contact of your soaking wet pussy moving along his sensitive cock. The way he was so turned on from not even being inside your cunt made your core throb with desire.

Arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly close to him. You rub your wet folds along his member, before reaching behind you and lining his tip up with your soaking hole. You slowly sank down on his length, the stretch was blissful and you let out a long whine. Hamzah groaned into your chest.

“Holy fuck,” he stuttered out. “S-so good. You feel so good, baby.” You slide up and down on his cock, feeling the stretch deep in your core.

“O-oh my god,” you whine. “You're so big, Hamzah.”

“How the fuck have we never done this before?” he whispered into your chest.

“You never asked,” you responded. Hamzah tugged at your t-shirt, reaching underneath it to caress your bare waist. His touch was like electricity, sending tingles throughout your back and down your spine.

“I wanna…” he huffed out. “I wanna-”

“Use your words, baby,” you responded, enjoying how fragile and delicate he was beneath you.

Hamzah’s face reddened, and he spoke, mouth buried in your shirt. “Wanna see your tits.” You giggled, before reaching down and tugging your t-shirt over your head. The air was slightly chilly and your nipples instantly hardened. Hamzah’s eyes widened as he came face to face with your tits.

“H-holy shit,” he said. “They’re so much prettier than I imagined.” He grabbed them in his big hands, massaging them slightly.

“You’ve imagined my tits?” you say, laughing slightly.

“Hell yeah,” he responded. “The other day, when you wore that tight little shirt out to dinner and your cleavage was showing…shit. The second I got home I had to jerk off. Fuck…I came so quick, imagining cumming all over your pretty fucking tits.”

Your face instantly reddened at his breathless confession. He began thrusting up into you, making your tits bounce with the sheer force of it. You let out a long moan, head tilted back, as he hit a particularly sensitive spot deep within your cunt. “S-sometimes,” he continued. “When I jerk off to you, I’m loud on purpose, hoping that you’ll hear me and come help me.”

“S-shit, Hamzah,” you whispered. He latched his pretty red mouth onto your tits, sucking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. You let out a high-pitched whine as your hips undulated against his. Hamzah reached down to rub your clit. You felt yourself coming closer towards release. “I-I’m close,” you whine.

“Me too, baby,” he responded, voice rough with desire.

Your breath became heavy. Hamzah rubbed your clit harder and faster, at the same time hitting that sweet spot deep inside. You came with a cry---white, hot light taking over your vision. Your orgasm washed over you and you clung onto Hamzah’s broad shoulders. Seconds later, Hamzah gripped your waist tightly and you felt his cock twitch inside you, spurting his seed deep within your cunt. He groaned deeply, head buried deep in your chest. His hips stuttered to a stop and you both sat there, completely still, coming down from your conjoint highs. Hamzah looked up at you, pure adoration present in his completely fucked-out expression. He smiled up at you, reaching up to wipe away the traces of saliva that adorned the corners of your lips. You smiled back.

“Hi,” you said softly.

“Hi,” he responded, breathless. You giggled, moving your hand to sweep his curly hair back from his sweaty forehead. “Are you okay?” he asked, hands still gripping your waist.

“Yeah,” you responded. “I’m more than okay. Are you?”

“Never better.”

#hamzahthefantastic #slushynoobz #slushynoobzvirus #hamzah x reader smut #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzahthefantastic x reader smut #youtube #youtuber x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzahfic

95 notes · View notes

whimsyfinny · 9 months ago

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.

Dean.

My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.

I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.

“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.

“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”

I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.

“Or is this a pizza man situation?”

“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.

“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”

“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.

“What?”

“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.

“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”

“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”

My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.

“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.

“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.

“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.

“I smell no pie here.”

“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.

“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.

“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”

“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”

“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”

“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.

“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”

He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.

“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.

“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”

Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.

“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.

I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.

“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.

A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.

“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.

“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.

“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.

“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.

“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”

“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.

“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.

“Sure I’m in.”

“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.

“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”

I scoffed.

“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”

I turned back to Charlie.

“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.

“Absolutely!”

———————————————————————

Taglist: @justjensenandhisalteregos @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lanassmarty @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hell0-ki11y111 @hobby27 @lilcuutiee @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @viridiesa @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @ilikw @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @vsplanet @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @raven-red10 @feyresqueen @lori69 @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @qinnroki @winchestergirl82 @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @lazygrungekid

Some of the tags haven’t worked so please check your settings if your name is highlighted!

——————————————————————

Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 2

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #enemies to lovers #supernatural smut #slow burn #supernatural #spn

280 notes · View notes

spectersgirl · 8 months ago

Note

heyyy!! so i just started s5 of suits and (spoiler if you haven’t seen it!!!!) harvey’s panic attacks were introduced after donna left and IM HURTING FOR HIM. but i think that’s such great angst material lol so if you’re still taking requests maybe something with that?

Hiiiii friends!

I know I've been gone for... quite a while... but I'm hoping to start writing more frequently again! I've undergone some massive life changes over the last few months and the stress of that basically caused me to completely burn out creatively. That being said, I have a TONNN of requests in my inbox and a few of them are generally in this same realm, so I will be using all of them for this piece, I hope that's okay with you all <3

The other requests were

"soft harvey just around his girl in a tense moment?!"

"hiii! i love your writing! i was wondering if you could write a fic where harvey had like a bad day at work and he just goes home and collapses onto the reader. like just hugs and softness and cuddles galore!"

I referenced actual events and lines from the show but changed up the context a little bit, obviously.

I appreciate you all for reading my work and liking it enough to request anything from me. I've never had such a positive response to anything I've created before, so this all means the world to me. Truly, thank you :')

Be With You

Harvey Specter x Reader

--------

It was nearly 11pm and you were teetering on sleep, having worked all day and come home to do a much-needed cleaning of your apartment followed by a glass of wine, when your phone loudly pinged on the nightstand. You fumbled for it and turned on the small bedside lamp next to you. You smiled when you saw it was your boyfriend, probably just saying goodnight, you'd assumed.

"Hey, can I come over? Please? I really need to see you right now."

A pit formed in your stomach reading the words on your screen. Though you hadn't been dating Harvey all that long, you'd spent a lot of time together, but he'd never sent a message like that.

"Of course, is everything okay?"

You couldn't help but worry, it was simply in your nature. You stared at the bubbles that indicated he was typing, which seemed to take an eternity.

"Not really, it's been a rough day and I just really need you."

Your heart lurched, Harvey had rough days all the time as a lawyer, but none had caused this response from him. You wondered what could've possibly happened. You got up, going back out into the living room and took a seat on the couch as you lit your electric fireplace with a remote.

"I'm sorry :( come over whenever, I'll unlock the door for you."

You did just that and looked down at the pajamas you'd chosen, just some shorts and a tank top. You decided they were fine enough for Harvey to see you in. You busied yourself with some TV to pass the time until he arrived. He was there in 20 minutes, and you immediately clocked the visible exhaustion on his face as he walked inside.

He dropped his jacket onto the couch without saying a word. You opened your arms for him as he walked to you and wrapped himself around you in a hug that felt like he was clinging to you for dear life. You stroked the hair at the back of his neck as he breathed you in, and you felt that he had been sweating.

"Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" You asked hesitantly, still cradled in his strong arms.

He shook his head before pulling back, allowing you to really look at him now. His eyes looked like he'd been crying, and his cheeks were flushed. Your heart plummeted into your stomach.

"Not right now, I just need to be with you." He said, his voice slightly hoarse.

You nodded and sat with him on the couch, laying your head on his chest while you listened to his heartbeat. He absentmindedly stroked your hair while staring into the fireplace, debating on whether he wanted to fully open up about everything that was on his mind.

When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with nerves, and you sat up at full attention.

"I... A while back, right before I met you, Donna had left my desk to go and work for Louis. When that happened, I started having panic attacks. It felt like I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, it just completely took over my entire body until it passed. She came back to work for me, and then I met you, and I think that combination helped me tremendously."

You nodded, listening as he continued.

"I didn't want to tell you about it because I didn't want you to worry or make you think I was weak, and since I stopped having them, I didn't think it was important anymore, but today... I had another one."

"Harvey, I would never think you were weak for being honest about your feelings or your struggles. I'd like to think you'd be understanding and supportive of me if I was going through the same thing."

"Of course I would!" He said definitively.

"Exactly. So, do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to sit some more?"

He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.

"Donna told me she didn't want to be on my desk anymore, she said she wanted more. I get that, but I just don't know how I'm going to do what I do without her help."

"Did she say what she meant by 'more'?" You asked softly.

"She said she didn't know."

Harvey hung his head slightly, looking down at the floor. You could tell how much this was affecting him, normally he had all the answers and didn't sweat about getting what he wanted, but this time felt different. You knew how much he and Donna had been through for them to get to this point, so it never occurred to you that someday she might want to leave her position. You idly rubbed circles on his back.

"Maybe you can still give her more and keep her at the firm with you?" You suggested, desperately trying to come up with a solution to soothe the pain you knew he was in.

"I'd love that, but ultimately if she wants to go, I have no choice but to let her."

You sighed and laid your head on his shoulder, you yawned and briefly closed your eyes as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"You tired?" Harvey asked softly, suddenly noticing that it was long past the time you normally went to bed.

You nodded, sitting up again.

"Yeah, but I knew you needed me." You answered, looking up at him as you grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to keep you up." He replied, feeling guiltier than he had when he walked in. The time hadn't even registered to him after the day he'd had.

"No, no. It's okay, this is what partners do. You should be able to lean on one another, it's a balance. I'm glad you trust me and our relationship enough to want me to be with you for this while you process. Now, are you sleeping here with me or are we going back to your place? Because I know you, and I know you won't admit you don't want to sleep alone tonight."

Harvey smiled weakly before he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

"I love you, Y/N. So much." He whispered against your lips when the kiss broke.

The admission made your heart skip a beat. Neither of you had said the L word yet, but you knew from the moment you saw him that he was it for you. Harvey had felt the same but didn't want to come off as some crazy boyfriend that knew you for all of five minutes, so he buried those feelings deep down for as long as he could bare.

"I love you too, Harvey." You said, a smile growing on your lips.

"Let's stay here tonight, I don't want to spend another second not in a bed with the wonderful, gorgeous, brilliant, selfless woman that I love." Harvey declared, standing and taking you with him.

"Uh oh, you're gonna make me cry." You warned, sensing the impending waterworks.

"I'm just getting started."

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter x reader #suits fics #harveyspecter #request #suits #we're so back

219 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year ago

Text

Epinephrine

Summary: Bucky races to win as you watch with anticipation.

Pairing: Motocross!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Nerves, K-I-S-S-I-NG, swearing, POV switch, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @saradika. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. A/N: My third Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 3) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse for @buckybarnesevents! Set in my Dialed In AU, but can be read as a standalone. Apologies for any inaccuracies, but I'm human and still had fun writing this.❤️ Thank you @targaryenvampireslayer for the POV switch suggestion! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Epinephrine. Both a hormone and a neurotransmitter, the chemical messenger transmits nerve signals to prepare your body for fight or flight. Most call it adrenaline. Some liken it to pre-race jitters.

Bucky considered it his own personal fuel.

Just breathe.

It amazed him how so many wrote off motocross as just another sport without considering the physical and mental training they put into it or how dangerous it was. Position, weight distribution, and correct form on the bike were all things to consider when practicing and racing. Not to mention no two tracks are alike, the conditions constantly changing. You had to take the hills, jumps, turns, and distance for your own safety and those around you.

He mentally wished Steve and the others a safe race, even Rumlow. Prick or not, he didn’t want the guy to get hurt. He sure as hell didn't want to lose to him either.

"For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t hit him. Because he would have won and guys like him don’t deserve to win."

No, he doesn't.

His heart raced a little faster, his right palm starting to sweat as the nerves and excitement clashed in his chest. The knot in his stomach settled as he waited for the race to start, his focus on the path in front of him. The rough terrain ahead called to him, urging him to unleash whatever anger, fear, joy, and anything he had built up inside. He would go all out, leaving no regrets in his path.

All leading to you after he crossed the finish line.

"Good luck."

Gave me all the luck I need, Spitfire.

With your voice in his mind, it quieted any doubt that lingered. He knew his strengths and even his limits when it came to the sport. Getting back on the bike after his accident already proved that he was a winner. He didn't need to prove himself to anyone else.

But he hoped you would see his worth.

And as the gate dropped, he smiled behind his helmet.

You grabbed Natasha's arm as the riders took off, keeping an eye out for Bucky. She didn't pull away or make a comment when you dug your nails in. You appreciated her a bit more because of that. You also didn't understand why you were nervous when you weren't the one on the track.

I've seen plenty of races, but I didn't have anything at stake before.

"Sorry," you muttered as you let the redhead go.

"It's okay. He's got this," she assured you.

You nodded, doing your best to give her a smile. A mile and a half long course and likely a twenty to thirty minute race and extra lap, you knew it was standard. But watching the dirt fly as you focused on Bucky's helmet, your heart felt like it was in your throat. You didn't just want him to win, you wanted him safe.

Just breathe. He knows what he's doing.

"If he gets hurt, I'm kicking his ass," you said, sucking in a breath as another rider got close to his back wheel.

"And nurse him back to health," Natasha teased.

"Yeah. With a uniform and all," you teased, actually kind of into the idea.

Down girl.

You got uncharacteristically quiet after that, your stomach dropping when Maddox gained on Bucky. He was still in a good position, his friend, Steve, up there with him. It was almost like witnessing a roller coaster ride, the ups and downs, the twists and drops. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you could only imagine how the guys out there felt actually experiencing it.

Exhilarating.

As the riders got close to the final lap, you jumped up. You somehow stayed on your feet when your head spun, but you weren't going to miss this. Bucky and Maddox were almost neck-in-neck, but Maddox probably thought he had it in the bag. That kind of cockiness didn't always pay off.

You sure as hell didn’t want it to pay off today.

"Come on, Hothead," you whispered.

While Maddox turned his head to look at Bucky, the latter kept his head facing forward and elbows up. As if he didn't care that his competition was there. He raced smarter, not harder, as you watched with bated breath. He kept his lead toward the finish line as you couldn’t help but smile.

Bucky Barnes won the race.

He won. He fucking won.

"Fuck yes!" you shouted, uncaring of your language as Bucky took first, his left fist pumping in the air. The way everyone else cheered, they probably didn't notice. But you finally felt like you could take a proper breath, the mental ride coming to a stop. "For the record, I'm just happy he made it across the finish line. This has nothing to do with the date."

I can actually smell my own bullshit.

"Wow. You managed to say that with a straight face. Impressive," Natasha said, nodding toward the course as the race wrapped up. "Come on. Let's go congratulate him. And by we I mean you."

"He raced a good race. It was very exciting," you said evenly, but you eagerly pulled her along to get out of the stands and through the crowd.

You weren’t sure if you were actually allowed to go up to greet him, but people moved to let you through. Was it your strut or Natasha’s subtle stare that made everyone jump out of the way? As you got closer to Bucky and the other riders, you felt like your heart was going to race out of your chest when you stopped at the edge of the course. Especially when took off his helmet, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he shook his hair out.

Fuck me in the dirt, please.

“Go,” Natasha encouraged after some of the guys congratulated Bucky, except for Maddox who stood feet away with a glare on his face.

Sore loser doesn’t look good on him, but he’s not why I’m here.

Holding your head high, you locked eyes with Bucky when he looked your way. Seemingly forgetting the others around him, he walked toward you to meet you halfway when you stepped in the dirt. The two of you stood there for a long moment before he smirked. A slight one, but still a smirk.

“Looks like I won,” he said, his voice rough.

“You did. Congratulations,” you said, stepping back to hold out your hand. “And it looks like you get to go out with me, so double congratulations,” you simpered, previous annoyance that he bet a date with you completely forgotten.

“Are we shaking on it?” he chuckled, his gloved hand reaching for yours. A spark of electricity moved up your arm once he took it and you refused to deny your attraction at that moment.

“You could say that,” you smirked, yanking him close. “But I prefer to seal it with a kiss.”

You took a moment to appreciate how soft and warm his lips felt when you initiated the kiss this time. You allowed his tongue to slip inside and explore when you parted your lips, feeling the beat of his heart as he pressed his chest against your body. It wasn’t hard or urgent, but excitement and passion consumed you. It didn’t matter if he got your clothes dirty. Or that a few of the riders whistled and cheered at the display.

He smiled against your lips when you had to take a breath. “I thought you said you weren’t a prize.”

“And I thought you said your ass was all mine after you win,” you reminded him, almost wishing you reached around to squeeze it. Even dirty and sweaty, he still looked and smelled amazing. It was a phenomenon.

“I did and I meant it,” he said, sneaking in another kiss before he had to pull away. “You sticking around?”

“I’ll be with Nat. Go do what you have to,” you said, turning away to back to your friend. She had a smile on her face. You had one on yours, too.

“I still have to get your number, so don’t go anywhere!” Bucky called after you.

“Who said I was giving you my number?” you asked over your shoulder. “I never agreed to that.”

“How am I supposed to take you on a date without it?” he asked.

“You seem like a smart guy. You’ll figure it out, Hothead,” you teased, egging him on just a little.

“Want me to get on my knees, Spitfire?”

Yes and split me open with that talented tongue of yours.

“She’ll give you her number,” Natasha said, waving Bucky on as you laughed. You may have checked his ass out again because he did say it was yours. And he no doubt checked yours out as you walked away. “You are giving him your number before we leave.”

“I will,” you promised, giving her a small smile. “I’m glad you introduced me to him,” you added gently, looking forward to getting to know him more.

“And I’m glad you put a smile back on his face.”

Hearing that felt like a victory.

I guess we’re both winners today, Hothead.

Yay! He won! Was there ever any doubt? More to come. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

655 notes · View notes

fictoculus · 1 year ago

Note

Could you do Alhaitham and Zhongli voice lines about reader?

౨ৎ their voicelines for you; part 3...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

part I┊part II┊part IIII┊part IIIII

FEAT... alhaitham, zhongli, ei

A/N... hellooo anon, thank you so much for the request! i apologise it took so long for me to get to you, i completely missed your request and then went on a "hiatus" of sorts, but hopefully i'll be writing more content soon ^^ i'm the opposite of experienced when it comes to writing for zhongli or al haitham, so i apologise if they're slightly ooc ♡ also, i just wanted to say thank you for all the attention and love that went towards my character voicelines ♡

✧ alhaitham.

"hm? *he turns to face the doorway, throwing a towel over his shoulder* oh, good morning, traveller, i wasn't expecting any visitors today. [name] invited you? alright then... take a seat, i'm just finishing up breakfast, i'll go wake them up once everything is ready *a small smile creeps onto his face, his eyes softening at the thought of you curled up in the covers* w- what? no, of course i'm not blushing, ridiculous... just- make sure this pan doesn't burn, i've decided to wake them up now instead *he scoffs* unexpected visitors, they better have a good excuse"

✧ zhongli.

"where could they be... *he mutters to himself, pacing with a stern expression* oh, traveller, what a pleasant surprise. say... you haven't seen [name] around, have you? no? ah, that's alright. what i'm doing? well, i'm waiting for [name], hence why i was curious as to where they are, we planned to go for a stroll together along the harbour, then perhaps continuing along the coast to pick- *his eyes seem to light up as he catches sight of you, his stone-cold gaze softening* excuse me, if you will, traveller my date has arrived..."

✧ ei.

"ah yes... [name] *she smiles subtly, yet without restriction* their name brings me pure joy. tell me, traveller, how did you come across such a name? why yes, i do know them. in fact, me and [name] are quite close. it feels as if it's been an eternity since i've seen them last... *she sighs, not in sadness but more so at the wave of nostalgia washing over her* the plane of euthymia has felt emptier than ever without their visits, why don't you tell them to drop by next time you see them?"

part I┊part II┊part IIII┊part IIIII

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

432 notes · View notes

theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

Text

"l’amore è cieco" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

back to the ti penso universe!!! finally!! did you guys miss it? i know i did; i am utterly obsessed with these two. i've had this sitting in my unfinished wip pile for way too long not to share.

our lovebirds have gotten the wedding all wrapped up with, so we're a solid four years past them reuniting in italy....and surprise! they're expecting!!!!! i could literally scream just writing that; the grip dad!eren has on me will never let up, i fear......anyways, this one's a little rough because i've picked it apart a thousand times and i'm just tired of editing, so you guys enjoy!!! sorry if it's not quite up to par :/

pairing: eren x reader

wc: 4k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, reader is pregnant, use of names (baby, mama, pretty, beautiful, etc), swearing, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, lactation kink, creampie, crying, tooth-rotting fluff

title means "love is blind" in italian, per tradition w this verse <3

Right on schedule with your new daily, depressing routine, you stand in front of the mirror running your hands over your body, examining the recent changes. On second thought, scrutinizing might be a better word.

You’re grateful your job has allowed you to work from home for your entire pregnancy, editing articles from the journalists who can actually travel while snuggled up on your couch, but the downside of it is that you’ve had far too much time to mull on all of the ways your body has stretched and warped to accommodate the growing little girl in your stomach. You thought pregnancy was supposed to be beautiful, and sometimes it is, but more often than not, you just feel like a swollen, hormonal mess.

You “popped”, as all the mommy podcasts say, about two weeks ago, and thin stretch marks have begun to appear on your stomach. Eren calls them your “tiger stripes”, having been in full-blown cringe dad mode since the day you took the test. Bizarre cravings control you at all hours of the day, evidenced by the little black crumbs you’re picking out of your sports bra, left behind by your fourteen-Oreo breakfast today. You gaze longingly at the jewelry box on your bathroom counter; you haven’t been able to wear your wedding band in weeks, the tan line already beginning to fade from your finger. Before you can get a hold of yourself, the hormones have you in their grip, and hot, frustrated tears are spilling down your cheeks.

“Babe, have you seen that tie with the red–” Eren materializes in the doorway with absolutely no warning, as he’s prone to do, but cuts himself off at the sight of you, “baby, no, again?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you say, reluctantly allowing him to take you in his arms.

“Like what?” Eren’s voice is sweet, but hesitant. He’s been living under the constant threat of getting his head bitten off for mundane reasons because of you. It makes you feel worse, makes you shove him away and glare at him accusingly.

“Like I’m always fucking crying.” You are always crying, but you wish he would at least muster up some semblance of surprise at finding you in tears yet again. You turn away from him, wiping your face in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Your flight leaves in like, three hours.”

“I’ll cancel,” Eren coos, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, picking your belly up in his hands.

It’s some hack he got off Tik Tok, supposed to take the weight off of your back for a precious moment, and as much as you don’t necessarily want to be touched right now, it actually helps. You’ve been alternating between thinking Eren’s overenthusiastic parenting research is adorable and mind-numbingly annoying, but for the moment, your back has stopped aching for the first time all morning, and you sigh, leaning into him.

“You can’t cancel,” you murmur, momentarily soothed, “‘s a big client. Where is it again? France?”

“I just got back from France, Miss Pregnancy Brain,” Eren chuckles, quieting immediately upon catching your lethal gaze in the mirror. “It’s just over in LA, and honestly, I could have Hitch go if you need me.”

“No, I can take care of myself, it’s just like…” a fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks, “fuck, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

Eren nods into your shoulder, letting you sniffle. It’s not a new trait, your outright refusal to ask for help, but it’s been exacerbated by your pregnancy, especially considering exactly how much help you actually need now.

You’ve taken custody of all of his sweatpants, not yet able to bring yourself to buy maternity clothes. You’d walked in sobbing and humiliated the other day because you’d peed yourself on the long elevator ride up to your apartment in front of the neighbors. You can’t sleep on your stomach anymore; Eren has to prop himself up just right beside you and sandwich you between himself and a wall of pillows to stop you from turning. You know it hurts him seeing you miserable, and you try to suck it up and enjoy the positives of pregnancy as much as you can, but you can’t muster up that strength every day.

“Hush,” Eren pulls your wet face to his chest, letting you stain the Number 1 Dad! t-shirt he had bought himself. “I’m not going.”

“Eren–”

“I’m not,” he says firmly, rubbing small circles into the bottom of your spine, “you need me here, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You grumble complacently, nuzzling into him. You do need him, as much as you want to think you can tough it out on your own. Eren’s bought book after book, not just for the baby, but for you. Most nights you find him reading titles like You’ve Made the Baby…Now What? or How to Survive Pregnancy: A Guide for Men with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a habit that, despite your efforts, you cannot nag him out of. It’s cute, honestly, how over-the-top he’s gotten with baby prep, especially when you’re often too exhausted to wrap your mind around reading a parenting guide.

“I feel ugly,” you admit quietly, sticky and snotty against his shirt. “I feel disgusting.”

“What?” Eren’s reaction is one of genuine confusion. He pushes you away from him so he can search your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate.

“I’m gaining an obscene amount of weight, my ankles are the size of my knees, I can’t wear a single one of my rings, what am I supposed to feel like?”

Eren frowns. “Those things are supposed to happen. I read last night–”

“I don’t care!” Your voice cracks under the weight of your frustration, and you press your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to regain control of your temper. “I don’t care that it’s supposed to happen. It still sucks.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” Eren sounds earnest, but you scoff at him anyway.

“We’re married. You’re supposed to say that.”

“I don’t have to.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “If you want your head to stay on your shoulders you do.”

Eren laughs at that, tugging you over to stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. “So, you’re serious? You genuinely don’t think you look good pregnant?”

“No,” you rub at your nose, “I don’t.”

Eren looks up at you, cupping your face gently. “I disagree.”

“Do you really?”

“I think you look better than ever.”

“That’s an insult to non-pregnant me,” you roll your eyes, moving to step away, but Eren holds you tight between his legs.

“It’s not,” he insists, “there’s just some things your pregnant body has that you didn’t necessarily have before. Some things that I like.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Cankles?”

Eren chuckles breathily, shaking his head. “I adore your cankles, but they weren't exactly the first thing that came to mind. Take these, for one thing.”

Eren presses his nose into your sports bra, hands moving up underneath to palm at your swollen tits. You let out a breathy laugh as he explores, already feeling a low heat beginning to simmer in your core. That’s one perk of entering your second trimester; your hormones might turn on a dime, but your sex drive has skyrocketed.

Eren shoves your bra up to free your tits, groaning appreciatively as he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You watch as he feels his way around with his mouth, humming contentedly under your breath, when suddenly, his eyes fly open and he shoots away from you.

“What?”

Eren shushes you, bringing a hand to the breast that had been in his mouth and squeezing lightly. White liquid beads on your nipple, and you cover your face in shame.

“When did that start?”

“A few days ago,” you admit, trying to push his hands off of you, cheeks burning. Eren swats you away, leaning back into your nipple, sucking harder. You can feel a small stream of milk leaving you, relieving some of the pressure in your tits; a moan rumbles deep in Eren’s chest, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Eren releases your nipple with a loud pop and looks up at you panting, eyes blown wide.

“Is it weird that that’s kinda hot?”

“Probably.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” you hum, threading your hands through his hair and urging him back to your chest, “feels good.”

That’s all Eren needs to hear, diving back into your chest with renewed vigor. As he continues, you realize it doesn’t just feel good, it actually feels incredible. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, but with the pregnancy, sensation has increased tenfold; you can feel your panties getting wetter as the weight of your full breast decreases. When Eren’s gotten all he can from your left nipple, he moves to your right, replacing his mouth on the now-abandoned nipple with his hand to twist gently at the wet skin.

The combined sensation makes your knees buckle; Eren saves you smoothly by wrapping an arm around your lower back, yanking you to him to straddle his leg. It’s the perfect angle for you to roll your hips against his thigh slowly, feeling the much-needed friction of his sweatpants against your cunt.

“Eren…” you breathe out, voice nothing more than a wisp of air.

“I know baby,” Eren speaks directly into your flesh, not willing to back away for even a moment, “feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Feels so good,” you whimper, clutching him to you with fistfuls of his hair.

“Told you this new body’s not so bad, hm?” Eren closes his teeth down on your nipple lightly; you almost keel over from the shockwave it sends through you.

You nod, rubbing yourself against his thigh faster. It’s awkward and cumbersome with your belly in the way, but it’s enough for now, enough to light your nerves on fire in that way that only Eren’s ever been able to.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Eren mutters, grabbing onto your hips to help you get your rhythm right, “you’re so perfect, and you don’t even see it.”

Your fingers dig into his arms as you moan. “But my stomach–”

“But nothing,” Eren kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “love your stomach, love your tits, love all of it. You think it doesn’t make me so fucking hard, watching you walk around with that big belly and knowing what it came from? I did that. We did that, didn’t we baby?”

“Mhm,” you bite into his shoulder, the friction on your clit through your sweatpants is getting to your head, making you dizzy. “Eren, Eren–”

“Sh sh sh,” Eren shushes you, moving so that he can look you in the eyes, “what do you need? Tell me.”

“I don’t– I don’t know, I just…” you can’t find the words, so in need of him that you can’t even decide what sounds best. His mouth? His fingers? All of it?

“Okay, okay,” Eren says quietly, standing you both up only to lay you against the pillows, “I’ve gotcha.”

He nudges his sweatpants down your legs, bringing your panties with them, spreads your legs so he can see the most intimate part of you. Eren brings his hand to your clit, rubbing tentatively, but you’re so desperate for him that it’s enough to make your back arch, a long, throaty moan ripping out of you. He lays beside you, gently playing with your clit and watching in awe at the reaction you give him, already a blubbering mess after only a few minutes.

“So sensitive, aren’t you mama?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you at the name, “s-so sensitive. Need to cum, I need, n-need–”

“I’ll make you cum,” Eren promises, sinking a finger into you, “I’ll make you cum, baby.”

“Fuck, Eren, it’s– I can’t–”

“Feel good?”

“So fucking good,” you’re basically sobbing at this point, fingers clenched into the muscles of his bicep, clinging to him and humping his hand. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sex over the first trimester (“What if I hit the baby’s head?” Eren had asked nervously whenever you approached him) or the rawness of the sensation against your over-sensitive body, but you’ve never been so close to your orgasm so quickly.

You don’t hold out long; Eren’s skilled with even just one finger, and before long, you’re crying out his name, gushing all over his hand. Eren presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss despite having utterly destroyed you less than thirty seconds ago.

“Ready for me?”

“Sit,” you pant, pointing to the massive stack of pillows against your headboard. Eren raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does as he’s told, only pausing to pull his clothes off. The loss of the stupid dad t-shirt is a relief as much as feeling his bare chest under your hands. Due to your hormones, you’ve thrown Eren out of the house several times, and you’ve demanded to be alone enough to where his only solution is to go to the gym downstairs and work out until you’ve calmed down. It shows: his chest has grown broader and stronger, and the veins on his arms are nearly popping through the skin. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” Eren offers a shit-eating grin, flexing his bicep ever so subtly. “You should see yourself.”

“You seriously think I look good like this?” You’re straddling his hips now, rubbing your clit on his bare cock. It’s a lewd sight, his cock drooling on his abs, glistening with your cum; your cunt clenches around nothing, more than ready to be filled.

“Mhm, you look so fucking good like that,” Eren grunts, hands finding your hips again and lifting you up to sink you down on his cock, both of you letting out loud, satisfied groans, “but you look much better like this.”

You grind your hips against his, not possessing the energy to bounce your now-heavier body, but it makes you see stars. Eren rarely lets you ride him, much preferring to bend you over or pin you to the bed himself, but with your bump, you now have an excuse to hop on top of him whenever you like. It’s been close to a decade of fucking him, but the full stretch of him never fails to shock you, the way he pushes into you until you’re positive he’s in your stomach. With Eren sitting up, his cock stays firmly nestled against your g-spot, pushing little bits of squirt out of you with each movement of your hips.

“Eren–” you whimper, holding your breasts as you rock into him.

“Shit- you’re so tight like this,” Eren says through his clenched jaw, throwing his head back against the headboard, “why don’t you ride me more often?”

“You don’t let me,” you say with a watery giggle.

“Stupid,” Eren gasps, “‘m so fucking stupid.”

You’re too fucked out to voice your agreement, opting for sliding a hand down your body to flick at your clit. You can’t quite reach it around your bump, though, a discontented noise leaving your lips. Eren opens his eyes, takes notice of the way you’re hunching your back, and swats your hand away.

“I got it, I got it,” he pants, tucking his hand underneath your swollen belly to rub your clit just the way he knows you like it.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you choke out, throwing your head back.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss, “‘s perfect.”

“Take what you need, mama,” Eren’s watching you intently, a glimmer of admiration in his eye, “take what you need.”

You’re moaning pitifully, loud and wanton as Eren’s cock moves inside of you. Your cunt tightens around him desperately as the bubble building in your stomach threatens to explode.

“Think you get wetter like this, all swollen with my baby,” Eren muses, leaning forward to latch his mouth around one of your nipples where more milk has already started to pool. His words have a visceral reaction on you; you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you spiral towards your release.

“I think–I think I’m gonna– oh fuck, don’t stop,” you croon, rocking your hips as fast as you can manage. Eren mumbles around your nipple, something about how beautiful you look, and you come undone around him, grinding your hips hard against his and cradling him to your chest. He might have a point- there’s damn near a puddle of your arousal at the base of where you’re connected, slicking up the skin on his hips and the inside of your thighs.

“Better?” Eren pulls you in for a kiss; you can feel him grinning through it.

“Maybe a little,” you admit, laughing light and watery against his mouth.

“Mmm,” Eren hums, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you only to drop you down again and turn your laughter to a quiet whimper, “not good enough. Need you to be much better.”

“Fuck me, then,” you nip at his bottom lip, earn yourself a deep groan.

“Can you— can you hold yourself up like this?” Eren scooches both of you down, albeit, a little awkwardly, so that he can lay flat on the bed. He moves you up until you’ve only got him halfway inside of you, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I–I think so.”

“And you’re sure I’m not going to hurt–”

“Jesus Christ– no Eren, it’s fine, just– fuck,” he cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips up into yours, grinning menacingly when your eyes roll back.

“Like that?”

“Just like that,” you moan, annoyance wiped from you with one clean stroke. Eren takes that for the green light that it is and starts pistoning his hips up into you, swearing under his breath. Even though he’d instructed you to hold yourself up, he makes good use of his new muscles, suspending you at the perfect height to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” Eren growls, “all swollen with my fuckin’ baby. Gonna keep you like this, give you as many as you want.”

“Eren–” you choke out, suffocating on the way he’s fucking you, his words, him. For the first time in months, you feel amazing, holding your chest and groaning long and loud as Eren thrusts up into you.

“Baby, I’m- fuck, not gonna–” Eren cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, throwing his head back.

“Cum in me,” you pant, nodding urgently at him, “want it so bad.”

“Oh fuck,” Eren groans, hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers are digging into your hips near to the point of pain, and that little frown he makes when he’s about to cum is crumpling his face. You do want it, badly.

“Please Eren, I need it,” you gasp, legs trembling on either side of his hips.

“Fucking love you, love you so much,” Eren slurs, hips stuttering. With a long, throaty moan, he slams you down one final time, cumming deep inside of you. You grind against him as he does, moaning along with him at the familiar warmth in your belly. Exhausted, you momentarily forget about your bump and try to collapse facefirst on him- that’s enough to snap Eren out of his post-orgasm haze.

“Whoa, whoa,” Eren shoves you back upright, lifting you under your shoulders and laying you on your back, “careful.”

You wince. “Shit, sorry. Sometimes I forget. It’s still sort of new.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, eyes locked lovingly on your baby bump, “love it, though.”

“Really?”

Eren cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “If that didn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”

You giggle at that; he’s always been good at this, cheering you up and diffusing your worries like it’s second nature. After ten years, it probably is at this point.

“I don’t mean to be so down on myself, really,” you sigh, tracing a finger over where his hand’s splayed on your stomach, “it’s just…so much harder than I thought it would be.”

Eren nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable. But you’re so good at it.”

“I haven’t even– what?” The insecurities that you’ve been successfully masking under good natured teasing and occasional annoyance come slipping from between your lips. You’ve thought it for weeks; how Eren’s so into all the baby stuff, so enthusiastic about learning everything he can, while all you’ve managed is trying not to gag when he cooks eggs in the morning and picking out some onesies. “What about all of your books and your podcasts and crap? You’re the one doing everything.”

“That’s all I can do,” Eren scoffs, “you’re doing all the hard stuff, like carrying the baby around and puking every morning and crying all the time–”

“Hey!”

“I’m serious,” Eren shushes you, “you’re putting in all the legwork. I mean, you’re literally growing our baby. You’re a fucking rockstar mom already. If anyone’s not doing enough here, it’s me.”

That’s one thing about Eren that will never get easier; his deep, unwavering admiration for you, no matter what you’re doing. Sure, it’s endearing when Eren spins you around in his arms for something as simple as finally getting that croissant recipe to come out well, but when he’s praising you for something that’s actually difficult? It’s sweet enough to give you a cavity, warm your heart, and turn your cheeks pink all at once, even after all this time.

“Well, if you’d like to take a shift carrying her around, be my guest. She’s a chunky little thing already,” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into Eren’s ribs to mask the flush rising to your face.

“I’d do it for you if I could,” Eren sighs in faux-thoughtfulness, “but I wouldn’t look half as hot.”

You giggle furiously when he lands a slap to your ass, swatting at his chest. “God, it still doesn’t feel real, does it? A little girl that’s half you, half me.”

“It does and it doesn’t,” Eren shrugs, bringing a hand back to your stomach, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about it since Italy.”

You gape at him. “That long?”

“You know I’m always ahead of you on this stuff,” Eren teases, squeezing your cheeks together, “knew I wanted you first, knew I wanted you back first, knew we should get married…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his bragging, “it’s just, like…are we ready? To do this?”

“This?” Eren cocks his head.

“The whole…‘parents’ thing.”

“Putting aside the fact that you're way too late to be having those kinds of thoughts,” Eren says, rubbing your lower back, “of course we’re ready. There’s no perfect parents, but I believe in us– believe in you. Gonna be the best mama any baby’s ever had, I know you will.”

“I don’t even…oh, Eren.” You’re tearing up again–damn hormones. Eren wipes at your tears, planting a big kiss on your forehead.

“I mean it. You’re going to be great, already are,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you just like that for a few moments, letting you nuzzle into his chest, until his little grin grows wicked. “Although…the only thing I can say I am worried about is which one of us is going to accidentally teach her her first swear word. Should we bet on it?"

Even through your tears, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that’s going to be Jean. Especially after what you taught Clara the last time we babysat.”

Eren barks out a laugh. “Hey, hearing her call Jean ‘Daddy Jackass’ was funny, and you know it!”

“Thanks for reminding me,” you smirk, “now I know what I’m teaching our little girl first.”

“No way!”

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fanfic #eren jaeger fanfiction #ti penso universe #ti penso uni

896 notes · View notes