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shouyuus · 2 months ago

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─── ハイキュー!! INSATIABLE

kenma, tsukki, kageyama, hinata; 2,472 words; smut and fluff, porn w/out plot, oral (fem!receiving), oral (male!recieving), throatfucking, multiple orgasms, tipsy!sex, fingerfucking, cumming inside, cowgirl, morning sex, almost cockwarming, needy!kenma, meanie!tsukki, wine drunk!tobio, and truly insatiable!hinata

summary: they always want more, more, more.

a/n: rmbr when i used to write mostly fluff and plot? yeah. me too. this, sadly, is not one of those instances. i guess in the spirit of kinktober... hooray?

─── 研磨 KENMA

it is never enough — even though at first glance, you wouldn’t think of kenma as the kind of person to be so needy. but something about you sets him off — something about the way you fist your fingers in his hair, or the way your voice always hitches over the syllables of his name —

“ken — ma — ah - hah…”

“mm? wh-what is it?”

he licks his lips, reveling in the tang of your juices currently coating his tongue, his darkened eyes flickering over the length of your body; there’s sweat beading at his temples, but years of being in sports has desensitized him ever so slightly to the sticky discomfort. and plus, this is exactly the kind of strenuous activity he doesn’t mind participating in once in a while.

you squeeze your eyes shut, the strain in the backs of your thighs burning as he casually presses you knees back and back and back, dipping down to lick at your sopping cunt.

"ken - ma — ngh!” you ruck up against his mouth, only for him to grin and pull back, wiping a hand along his lips to gather the slick.

“think you can come again for me?”

you whine, peering up at him through damp lashes, your body still buzzing with the remnants of the last two (or was it three?) orgasms he’d pulled out of you just with his fingers and mouth. your mind fizzles white at the edges, your thoughts disjointed and static.

“wanna — want your cock kenma —”

“mm,” he hums, pressing a soft, placating kiss to your knee as he runs an absent thumb over your clit just to watch your hips jump, “i know but… i like watching you cum like this. so…” he drops another kiss at on your inner thigh before dipping back down to lap softly at your puffy folds, “gimme one more and i’ll give you whatever you want, yeah?”

─── 月島 TSUKKI

so everyone knows he’s just a bit childish, just a bit petty, just a bit vindictive. so everyone knows he likes getting his way, and is a bit too stubborn.

so, when you swallow over the length of his cock as he bullies it down your throat, a hand fisted in your hair, his gaze almost cool as he watches you struggle to keep him in your mouth, you can’t say you didn’t kind of ask for it — mouthing off the way you did, pushing all his buttons from the second he’d gotten home till he’d dragged you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom and told you to get on your goddamn knees.

you’d dropped like a good little girl, a thrill tingling up your spine, because isn’t this what you’d wanted? missing him all day, a delicious, delirious heat curling at the base of your tummy, itching for the way he’d fuck you till your vision blurs.

“c’mon, i know you can open wider than that,” tsukishima runs an appraising thumb along the curve of your cheek, thrusting his hips forward even as you struggle to catch a breath. he thumbs at a tear, a smirk twisting the edge of his lips, a sadistic glint flashing behind his bespectacled eyes.

“there we go — that’s it — nngh — shit —”

you revel in the way his hips stutter, in the sting of pain that comes from his fingers fisting your hair too tight. you brace yourself and lave your tongue along the underside of his twitching cock, feeling the veins pulse angrily beneath your touch. he hisses above you, color pluming in his cheeks as he resorts to taking you by the back of the head and fucking your throat proper.

you hum around him as he jerks into your mouth, your own cunt clenching around nothing, the material of your panties sticking uncomfortably to your skin as you shift your thighs. above you, tsukishima narrows his eyes and tuts.

“quit that.”

you whine, going still even as he continues to fuck your throat, his breath going shallow, the faintest fog tinting up his glasses before he shoves you down on his cock and you feel him pulse over your tongue for a second before he yanks back and lets the white ropes of cum splatter across your face. you squawk slightly, licking at your lips before pouting up at him.

“you got cum in my hair!”

tsukishima only scoffs, wiping a bit from your cheek to press a finger into your mouth. you shoot him a half-hearted glare before sucking the digit clean, your nipples now straining against the materials of your shirt, feeling rubbed raw with sensitivity. there’s a damp patch on your panties and you tug at his hips eagerly before he swats you away.

“oh now you wanna be nice?” he asks, squinting down at you as he jerks your chin between two fingers.

you purse your lips, “i just missed you, okay?”

tsukishima scoffs, but he doesn’t deny you as you push him back onto the mattress and straddle his thighs.

“fine then, show me how much. and i might let you cum tonight.”

you pause halfway through kicking off your panties. he chuckles, laying back, propping both hands behind his head, his long, lanky form stretched out like a five course meal over the material of your sheets.

“you’re being mean,” you say, finally ridding yourself of your panties to crawl over his body, settling yourself over his hardening cock one more.

“you started it,” he hisses, even as his palms land on your hips, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass to shift you along his length, your lips falling open at the friction.

“s-so if i ask nicely enough…” you say, circling your hips if only to hear him gasp, “will you finish it?”

─── 飛雄 TOBIO

you should’ve known, you should’ve known what you were getting yourself into when you’d decided to send him a cute little mirror-selfie, dressed in nothing but one of his huge t-shirts, the hem hiked up just enough to let him see that you’re wearing nothing underneath, your nipples tenting the fabric in the wane light, your face half-covered by the phone — you should’ve known.

“m-mm—fuck —!” your heels kick uselessly against the bedsheets as tobio holds you to his mouth, his eyes sharp and dark and focused, his fingers holding your thighs open, his grip pressing divots into your skin as he sinks his tongue into your greedy cunt, sucking on your clit with a loud, gratuitous moan. there’s a flush working up his cheeks, and a glassy, glazed-out look to his eyes, amplified by the half-finished bottle of chianti sitting on the bedside table.

“one more —” he pants out, his breath hot against your twitching clit, your thighs straining against his hold as you whine, glancing down to find him running his tongue over his lips, his chin glazed with your sweet slick, bangs stuck to his forehead as he presses his cheek to your leg and smiles up at you.

“jus’ gimme one more, i know you can do it —” he drags his mouth along your skin before lowering his mouth back to your puffy lips, sinking his tongue into you far enough to make you scream. pleasure frissons up your body, making your toes and fingertips tingle — you can’t help but whine at the fact that he hasn’t even put his cock into you yet tonight but you can’t find it in yourself to complain. he’s made you cum more times than you can count, and still he’s relentless.

once, you’d asked him, jokingly, if he kept a sex journal — like his volleyball journal — where he meticulously tracks his progress, successful sets vs. unsuccessful ones, wins and losses, game strategies and various attack and defense formations. he’d cocked his head, his mouth half-full of a flatbread, that yes — he does. and did you want to see?

“i — i thought i’d just… keep track because…” he swallows his mouthful of food and looks anywhere but at you, “i want to make sure ‘m always making you feel good.”

and right here, right now, you can’t find it in yourself to do anything but fist your fingers in his hair and moan his name into the humid summer air as he works you towards yet another climax with nothing but his mouth and tongue.

“t-tobio — fuck-fuck — fuck — !”

he moans against you, grazing his teeth along your swollen clit just hard enough to push you over the edge, and when you cum around his tongue again, he pulls back with a savage, blissed-out grin, licking his lips even as he cages your body below his, trailing delicate fingers along your sides till he’s cupping your cheek.

“so pretty…” he mumbles, more to himself than anyone else, his gaze flickering over your face, down the length of your now sweat-slicked body, your knees falling open for him, your stomach rising and falling with the weight of your uneven breaths.

“tobio — tobio — n-no more teasing — please —”

he grunts, puffing out a laugh against your lips as he leans down to kiss you, sucking your tongue into his mouth as he nudges your legs apart with his knees.

“look so good like this… gonna fuck you now, yeah?” he asks, reaching down between your bodies to tease at your entrance with his cock, groaning as you whimper and ruck up against him, sensitive from the overstimulation. you make an abortive noise as he pushes into you, your knees jumping slightly as your abused hole flutters around the intrusion, his cock stretching you out the way his fingers and tongue hadn’t before.

“s-slow — tobio —” you tug weakly at his arms, your mind a hazy mess of pleasure and pain and the feeling of tobio’s lips trailing along your neck.

“nnph… sure… we’ll go slow… but we’re not done till i say we are.”

─── 翔陽 SHOUYOU

too much — it’s like he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. or, maybe he’s nothing’s ever too much when it comes to you, because like this, with you trembling above him, your thighs shaking on either sides of his hips, your hands braced against his chest, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough, let alone too much.

“mm — so — so good —” he soothes, panting slightly as he digs his heels into the mattress and fucks up into you, bouncing you over his lap, licking his lips at the way your mouth falls open, “so cute — fuck — s-so wet —”

he bites back another groan as you clench down around him, head falling forward as he shifts beneath you, reaching up to tug you down, catching you in his chest as he chuckles by your ear.

“a-ah… tired?” he asks, his pace never once faltering even as he strokes your hair, his thumb kneading at the nape of your neck as he presses a soft kiss into your shoulder. he feels your thighs clench as he adjusts his angle and your whole body tenses.

“sh-shou — mmngh —”

“f-fuck — so tight —” he grunts slightly as he twists his whole body to swap your positions, lying you gently on your back so he can hoist your knees up and fuck into you proper, letting out a pitched whine, when he feels you fluttering around him, the unmistakable signs of yet another orgasm coursing through you. he fucks you through it, leaning down to mouth at your tits, the nipples hard and raw from his fingers just minutes before.

he’d woken up with a prickling want twisting his gut and he knew nothing but an entire morning in bed with you would sate it. outside, the brilliant brazilian sun is already slating into the hotel room from the wide, drop-floor windows, and he considers — briefly — that later, the pair of you might go for a dip in the ocean, just to cool off. he grins at the thought, pushing your legs up till he’s got you folded in half.

“c’mon — c-cum for me again —” he coaxes, rucking down into you till your eyes roll back, fucking into you so deep you can nearly feel it in the back of your throat, the white, pin-prick flashes of pleasure popping behind your eyes as he hooks your knees over his arms to hoist your entire lower half off the mattress.

“c-can’t — can’t shouyou — ‘s t-too much —!” you’re almost babbling, tears caught in your lashes as you try to look up at him, but you can’t help squeezing your eyes shut every time he teases his cock against your g-spot, pulls back slow just to fuck back in fast, make you feel each ridge and bump and vein as he rocks down into you.

“mm… i know, i know…” he coos, biting his own lips with a rough pant, “but… you look so good cumming on my cock — i just — wanna — wanna see it again — hm?” he leans down to press a sloppy kiss to your mouth, sounding at once somehow whiney and demanding both, “just — just one more —” he says, nosing along your jaw to suck a hickey into the junction of your throat.

you arch up into him, fingers scrabbling at his back as he starts to pick up the pace, whimpering as another orgasm rockets through you, leaving you squirming beneath him as he chases after his own orgasm, groaning as he watches you fall apart for him, his cock twitching inside you before he’s dropping his head into your shoulder with a hard shudder.

“mm… good morning, yeah?” he asks, even as he pulls back and you pout up at him, swatting weakly at his arm.

“d-don’t move so fast — m’still sensitive…” you make to cover your eyes with your arm but he tugs it away, leaning down to kiss you.

“i like you sensitive,” he murmurs, shifting to keep his cock pressed inside you, chasing shivers through your limbs at the friction.

“don’t be mean…” you say, letting yourself be pulled into his chest even as he laughs softly.

“sorry waking you up so early in the morning — will breakfast in bed make up for it? i think the room service at this hotel’s pretty good!”

you peer up at him with a tiny grin, “yeah?”

shouyou smirks, cocking his head, “mhm! i mean… you’ll need more energy for our second round later, right?”

taglist: @yaoduriaa @ominouslywritinginmyhead @naomihatake @cheesypuffkins87 @crispynutella @stunies @phroggii @fennecnco @yogurtkags -- join the taglist

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hunnidmilly · 4 months ago

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that back. |R.R|

heyyyyyyyy. this is dedicated to @harmshake for inspiring me. love ya twin. ty always <3 ty for getting me out my funk and inspiring me.

and @shes2real. loveeeeeee ur fics. gotta go check em out if you haven’t.

warnings: pure smut. no plot. nun. just freakayyyyy. no one under 18.

parings: roman reigns x black!reader

“ah!” your fresh manicured white toes popped as your leg laid over your man’s shoulder

“i know, babygirl, i know…” he sighed into your neck as his hips continued to snap towards your pussy, “been a good girl all day for me…gotta give my baby her reward.”

roman loved being vocal during sex. he loved making your head spin and your heart swell with his words making you speechless. well…you were already speechless but yk what i mean.

he grabbed you other leg hiking it up further around his waist allowing you to feel him deeper, “why are y—you fucking me like this?” you strain latching your hand onto his back, digging ur nails into it attempting to relive the pressure in your center

“why not? tight ass pussy always ready for me. you hear her crying for me? let me show her daddy’s home.”

squelching noises echoed from around the room. you could feel yourself dripping down roman’s dick right onto the bed sheets creating a wet spot. your pussy swollen and worn out yet still squeezing down on him pulling him back inside for more. he loved you like this for him—a babbling, dizzy, dick drunk mess. you loved it even more.

he pampered you in and out of the bed room; this all starting from coming home to a hot bath waiting with candles and pink rose petals scattered around. you let him wash your body down, an intimate act all too familiar, before his washcloth covered hand got closer towards ur aching pussy—washing rubbing you there letting the heat from the cloth bring you towards your first orgasm of the night. you both quickly took it to somewhere it wouldn’t turn into a slip n’ slide…well?

that familiar feeling for the 4th time tonight pulsed inside your belly again ready to gush out onto your man’s dick.

“shit! You gotta stop scratchin’ me baby…” he hissed before throwing ur legs over his arms, pushing them towards either side of your head

his movements sped him, continuing to dig at your pussy making a mess in the middle of your thighs. bad choice.

you lived for your man’s back. the way his body loomed over yours like a shield felt nearly romantic. and it was beautiful to say the least. you knew if you kept leaving marks, he’d kill you for it in the morning. he’d have to cover up again, which would make him loose out on money. roman knew his fan base, the ladies wanted what they wanted. but fuck those hoes…you’d give them something to stare at for-sure now. you’d carve ur name with your nails if you could.

your nails caved inwards again in his skin dragging all around to relieve both the pain and pleasure your man was creating with the swivel of his hips. the vein in his dick pulsing against ur spot with the new stroke. your hips attempting to buck into the mattress to escape the new rhythm.

“you feel me baby? right in that pussy? right where i need to be, baby. you wetting it up so good baby. i’m not stopping till you cum on it.”

“f-fu-uckkk! i can’t roman, ah!” you sobbed out sinking ur teeth into his shoulder. your pussy clenching and unclenching, his dick desparate to find its hiding place in your pussy.

“why not baby? fuckin’ good ass pussy. gimme what i want, babygirl. get that nut.” he roared into your ear

not for the first time, you felt the white flash behind ur eyes as heat radiated from ur toes right towards your pussy. with a loud whine of incoherent words, your cum gushed out around roman’s still thrusting cock now with a new layer of your cum coating it, fucking your through it. you let out a mixture of screams and sobs as he chased his nut, fucking into you faster, the stimulation becoming too much to bare. your nails scratching roman anywhere it could, clawing at him.

“where can i cum baby? where you want it at?”

“in my pussy..” you whimper out hoarsely

“nah, speak up. Where you want it at, baby? i can come in this pussy? My pussy?”

“in my pussy! fuck! cum in meeee, roman. cum in me, pleaseeee.” you beg with a pout, he leaned down connecting your lips together. his strokes becoming erratic before you felt the long hot spurts of his cum spraying your walls.

“shit! fuck! i can’t stop, baby. ahh!” he moaned in your ear as his thrust slowed down. your breaths both racing to pull it back into your lungs

roman continued to feed you small soft thrust before pulling out. he eased your legs of your shoulders to watch the mixture of your cum oozing out of your pussy and dribble onto the bed sheets. he lowered a thumb to your clit to rub small circles, causing your pussy to convulse and push his cum out in bubbled pools. after, he used his thumb to finger fuck it back into you with a small whimper, he got up to grab a towel to clean you off.

“damn, baby!” you hear him call out from the dark bathroom

“what?” you strain out, still trying to catch your heart rate back to normal

“we gotta invest in some gloves or something for you, when we fuckin’ baby girl.” he reemerged from the bathroom with a towel in hand. you took the time to notice all the bright red scratches that coated his tanned arms, and the teeth marks in his neck. he did a small spin, to show you his back.

he damn near looked fresh out of a TLC match.

“shouldn’t have been fuckin’ me like that than.”

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hypnagogics · 4 months ago

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Bro I literally eat up ur writing every time😭can u do ellie using a vibe on u?

before you read.

☆: KILLING 3 BIRDS W ONE STONE HEHE. i feel these all go well, so why not. sorry for the insane wait, and the wildly lazy writing...me putting this off forever only to bang out a crappy blurb in like 2 mins...also can't stick to a single aesthetic WHATEVA.

◇: vibrator use, fingering, porn w/out plot (sawry), dom-ish ellie (but she's still kinda silly), overstimulation, squirting, aftercare at the end (all r! recieving).

"you can take it, doin' so good." she murmurs under her breath, her face contorted in concentration.

you squeal when ellie presses the vibrator hard against your poor, overworked clit, the sensations almost too much to bear. but no matter how overwhelming it may be, it's still so mind numbingly good. the device has been set on a mode midway for the past...however long, and you've completely lost count of how many times she's made you cum thus far. for all you knew, it could have been well into the double digits, and she didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

ellie’s eyes were dark, low with blown out pupils. they remain trained on you, flickering between observing your facial expressions, your squirming body, covered in a shiny layer of sweat, and what's going on under her hands. "...ellie, hold on...wait." you gasp out, struggling to catch your breath.

she detaches the device from you, her tattooed hand traveling up your body, settling on the side of your face to cup your cheek, and wipe away a stray tear that had escaped from your eye. "need a break, babe?" she says, her gaze softening. that honey voice she puts on, featuring a light domineering timbre, it immediately makes you wet all over again and you whimper quietly, bucking your hips up in pursuit of more stimulation. she notices—of course she does, observant as a fox—and her lips stretch into a sneer, "yeah that's what i thought, still need more." she chuckles, before thrusting the tip of the toy back onto your swollen clit, biting her lip when she watches you arch backward, mantras of her name and pleas falling from your lips.

her free hand, which was previously resting on your knee, flies down the inside of your parted thighs, grazing the heated skin, and she teases your hole with two digits, eagerly observing the reactions. she quickly stuffs her middle two fingers inside with ease, slick and pearly cum leaking down her slender knuckles. curling upwards to massage your g-spot, the pleasure is causing explosions of colors to appear in your vision, your eyes are filling with tears once again.

"just gimme one more, okay?" ellie orders gently, clicking buttons to increase the intensity of the vibrator even more, and you nearly shriek. out of instinct your legs fight to close around her hands, but she's quick to push your knee to the side again, tutting. "nuh-uh, don't do that. just one more. say the safeword if you really want me to stop, alright?" you open one eye and nod meekly at her, and she resumes. within no time at all you feel the brink of orgasm swell in your lower abdomen once more, your legs trembling at every purr of the toy. and she can tell as well by the way you're whining and panting, all with a fucked out, lazy smile playing on your face.

silent moans trapped in your throat, you feel the blinding ecstasy overtake your body, blacking out your senses for a moment. she has lessened the setting to work you through it effectively, all while muttering sweet praises throughout.

"god, look at that." she whispers in awe once it's over, discarding the device on the floor and rubbing her hands across your legs to ease the tension in your thighs, making sure you're okay. she hovers over you to press a tender kiss to your forehead, then over your entire face, grinning when she hears you laugh.

her goofy tone returns, "fuckin' squirted all over me, baby. we'll clean up just gimme a sec." she cuddles up to you, nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck, sighing and softly stroking the top of your head. "next time we'll do a couple more, make a new personal best, whaddaya think?"

tags (idk why some didn’t work): @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @flowrmoth @liddysflyer @fortune777 @claude999 @brunaedn @lanabaezzzz

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 8 months ago

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Words: 6,924 Daryl Dixon x Reader reader pronouns: she/her Era: the prison Summary: Daryl realizes how touch-starved he’s been and exactly who he wants to satisfy that with. Really just sweet, vulnerable Daryl.[he is baby in this fic 100%] Warnings: none really? Language? Fluff?

Daryl startled awake, shooting straight up on his bed.

“Wow! Sorry! I was trying to wake you up gently!”

He looked up at her with a steely glare. Then he let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped, the frantic alarmed feeling passing quickly as he realized it was just Carol. “The hell ya wakin’ me up for at all? I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was nearly up,” he growled, swinging his legs down over the edge of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. He still had his boots on.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry… but I really could use a hand. The water line is clogged up with mud again. The others are going to keep the herd on the fence occupied and thin the numbers down while I try to clear it. I could use you to watch my back.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, alrigh’. Just gimme a few minutes. I’ll meet ya out in the yard.”

“Okay, Pookie” she teased him, smiling. She reached to affectionately smooth a hand over his tousled hair but he deflected it hurriedly and shot her another look that made her laugh. “I’ll see you in a minute,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, go on and get outta here… Pain in my ass,” he grumbled, climbing to his feet.

As Carol’s footsteps retreated outside his cell, he glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror hanging on the cell wall. His hair was a mess and he did what he could to hastily smooth it with his hands before abandoning the effort with a grunt. He hurriedly grabbed his crossbow and fixed his knife in its sheath at his hip. Relacing his boots to make sure they were tight, he called it good and made his way through the prison.

As he stepped outside into the sunlight, he could already see that things were busy despite the early morning hour. Rick and Carl were in the garden plots with Hershel and everyone else seemed to either be chopping and stacking firewood or working down on the fence. It was rare for Daryl not to be the first one awake and it left him feeling off-balance. He hadn’t been sleeping hardly at all and it must have finally added up to pure exhaustion since he’d actually caught a few hours until Carol woke him.

His blue eyes, squinted against the light, searched for you out of subconscious habit. He spotted you alongside Glenn and Maggie on the fence. He felt his heart skipping a beat.

The gravel crunched under his boots as he headed to meet Carol who was waiting at the gate that led to the alleyway between the fences. She greeted him with a tight smile. “Ready?”

“Yep. Good to go,” he replied.

Carol opened the gate and Daryl followed her in. Soon they were passing by you, Glenn, and Maggie putting down walkers through the chainlink.

“Are you alright, Daryl?” Maggie called out, shading her eyes with a gloved hand. “I thought maybe you were sick or somethin’,” she said.

“Yeah, unusual for any of us to be up before you,” Glenn agreed, leaning on the metal rod in his hand.

“Christ, ev’rybody’s got somethin’ to say about it,” Daryl retorted. “Can’t a man get a couple hours of sleep for once?”

You turned after putting down a particularly large and loud walker, gore dripping off the end of the sharpened makeshift spear in your hand and you wiped at the stray strands of your hair that were sticking to your face with your arm. You skin was already glistening with sweat despite it being far from the hottest part of the day. You smiled at Daryl, squinting against the sun. “I didn’t say anything,” you laughed.

“Yeah, well thanks for that,” Daryl said, meeting your eyes. “Yer the only damn one…” He gulped, always a little nervous when your full attention was on him.

“Alright, alright,” Carol said, laughing. “I think we’ve teased poor Daryl enough for actually sleeping. Just keep the herd down this end, away from the water line, okay? We’re heading out to clear it now.”

You all nodded and returned to the task at hand. Daryl couldn’t help glancing back at you over his shoulder a few times, until he slipped out of the hole to the outside behind Carol and closed it back up behind him, lacing the sturdy wire back through the fencing and pulling it tight.

Carol pulled the water line up out of the creek and began twisting apart sections of it to clear out the mud and muck. “Yuck… no wonder we were hardly pulling any water in,” she said, shaking a particularly large chunk of red Georgia clay out of the nozzle.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes scanned the surrounding tall grass and trees for any approaching stray walkers, but he found that they continually seemed to return to you on the fence almost on their own.

“Hey. Hey!” Carol was suddenly laughing. “Did you hear me?”

“Huh?” Daryl’s eyes snapped back to her. “Sorry.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him and a small, perhaps slightly knowing, smile curved her lips. “Distracted?” she asked.

He shifted. “Are ya done?”

Carol laughed to herself again and dusted off her hands. “Yeah, I think so.” She walked back to the stream with the end of the hose and dropped it back into the creek. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked as the two of them started back up the slope toward the fence.

Daryl shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe work on my bike. Probably due for a tune-up,” he drawled, slinging his crossbow back over his shoulder.

She nodded. “Sorry I woke you up. I was shocked you were still sleeping to be honest. I waited around a bit but—"

“Nah, s’alrigh’. I probably needed to get up anyway,” he replied, glancing ahead toward the fence again. The herd of walkers was dwindling with the efficient work of you and the others but the bodies were piling up on the outside now. Clean-up duty would be needed.

“Well, you should head inside and eat something,” Carol said. “I know you haven’t had anything yet today.”

He ran a hand back through his hair and nodded. “Yeah… maybe in a bit. I think ‘m gonna start pilin’ up those carcasses. We’ll need to burn ‘em later and it ain’t no good havin’ ‘em up against the fence, attractin’ new walkers.”

Carol stopped. “Oh. Yeah, true. I’ll help. Looks like they’re about done anyway,” she said.

He nodded and they strode over, dew down in the longer tufts of grass wetting their boots and hems. There were maybe six walkers left clawing at the fence and they were quickly cut down to three as he and Carol approached on the outside. Daryl pulled his gloves from his back pocket and tugged them on as Carol walked over, watching the last upright body fall onto the pile a moment later.

“How’s the water line?” you asked, gripping the fence, the tips of your fingers poking through.

“Should be all cleared out now,” Carol said. “Nice work,” she said, referring to the pile of bodies at her feet. “Daryl and I will start pulling these away from the fence and piling them to be burned.”

“Alright. I’ll come help,” you said, setting down the metal rod you’d been wielding and briefly wiping at the sweat glistening on your forehead with your forearm again.

“You sure? You’ve done more than your fair share of hard labor today,” Carol said. “Looks like Maggie and Glenn are already heading back up to rest.”

“Yeah, it’s alright. I don’t mind,” you said. “It’ll go faster with three of us.”

“Alright. Come on out! Thanks,” Carol said, giving you a grateful smile.

You nodded and hurried to let yourself out the makeshift opening to the outside. Daryl had already dragged away four bodies in the time it took for you to make your way over. You offered him a wide smile that had his heart jumping and he paused before he grabbed another walker, lacing the fingers of his gloves together in a nervous gesture. “Ya alrigh’?” he drawled. “Ya ain’t gotta help with this. Ya did a lot of work on them from the other side,” he said. Your cheeks and chest were flushed red with heat and effort and the cotton of your t-shirt was clinging to your damp skin.

You shrugged. “I’m all good. It’ll get done sooner this way,” you said. He watched your eyes flickering up over his face a couple times and he became suddenly self-conscious.

He cleared his throat. “What?”

You laughed lightly. “Oh—it’s just—you’ve got this one piece of hair sticking up—it’s been defying gravity since you first came out here. I’m just a little surprised it’s still hanging in there,” you joked. You pulled your gloves off and stepped up to him. “It’s just sticking straight up,” you laughed again, attempting to smooth it gently.

An electric shiver ran up Daryl’s back as your fingers combed through his hair. “What’s it matter?” he drawled, attempting to sound gruff and not what he was actually feeling… which was completely jittery. “Ain’t like ‘m tryin’ to win a beauty contest out here.”

“Oh, so you want to be a unicorn? Got it,” you teased him, redoubling your efforts and using both hands and your fingernails to try to combat the stray strand, but it only sprung right back up. You laughed again, your eyes crinkling at the corners. A fluttery feeling burst between Daryl’s lungs. You sighed and shook your head, stepping back and crossing your arms, surveying him. “Nope. Won’t cooperate. I guess you are stuck as a wild unicorn today,” you said. “At least until it comes in contact with a wet comb.”

“Comb? I dunno if I’ve even got one of those,” he joked. “Thanks for tryin’,” Daryl said, half-sarcastically. You only flashed him another grin. You pulled your gloves back on and headed back to the fence to grab a walker. Carol stopped beside Daryl and he grabbed the body she was dragging by the ankles and helped her swing it onto the newly-formed pile. She gave him an appraising look when she stood up, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “What?” he asked.

“No, nothing,” she said, smiling vaguely. But it certainly wasn’t lost on her that when she had attempted to ruffle his hair, her hand had been pushed away brusquely.

Daryl ducked his head and went back to work. You were still at the fence when he walked up beside you. You were attempting to untangle a disgusting mass of limbs to pull a single walker out. Your nose wrinkled and you let out a noise of disgust. “I don’t think I will ever get used to the smell of them,” you mused aloud.

Daryl looked up, about to respond, but suddenly your feet went out from under you and you were landing hard on your back, all the breath pushed out of your body. “Y/N!”

There was a surprisingly strong hand that had emerged from the pile of bodies gripping your ankle and low, muffled growls emanated from a walker beneath the heap that was not quite dead.

Daryl jumped into action immediately, stomping his boot down onto the grasping arm until it released you and then quickly tugging you away by gripping you under the arms. He collapsed down on the ground behind you and you came to rest partially against him, still gasping for air as your lungs had not yet returned to normal, still seized up from the fall. You found yourself completely unaware that you were laying back against his chest as you just focused on trying to breathe. Daryl didn’t dare move.

Carol came running over at full speed. “Oh my God! Are you okay?!”

All you could do was nod urgently, unable to talk still. You pressed a hand to your chest and willed your lungs to start drawing in air again. Your heart was pounding.

“Fucker didn’t scratch ya ,did he? Please, tell me he didn’t…” Daryl gasped. “Carol, check her ankles quick!”

Carol quickly bent over you and looked, sighing with relief. “No, she’s clean.”

It was about that time that your lungs started working again and you realized you were sort of on top of Daryl. “Oh, shit,” you breathed, sitting up and turning. “I’m sorry. I—I’m leaning on you,” you said hurriedly.

Daryl shook his head, his brow still furrowed deeply. “S’alrigh’. Are ya okay? Ya sure?”

You nodded, trying hard to slow your breathing and heart rate. “I’m okay. Just startled me more than anything.”

Daryl climbed to his feet and offered you his hand. He pulled you up. You both watched as Carol kicked a body aside and plunged her knife into the head of the walker that had grabbed you and was still moving. “Got him,” she said, straightening up, her knife dripping blood onto the grass.

It was then that you realized your hand was still in Daryl’s. He hadn’t let go. You could feel the calluses on his palms from digging with the shovels the week before and the calluses on his fingertips from drawing back his crossbow. His thumb was closed gently over the back of your hand. He seemed to have realized then that the moment had passed when he should have relinquished his gentle hold on you and he suddenly drew back, wiping his hand on his pants as if that would rid it of the electric tingle on his palm. “Are ya sure yer okay?” he asked again.

“Fine. I’m fine… just knocked the wind out of me for a minute,” you said.

“How was that one not dead?” he growled, moving to peer down at the body.

“Here,” Carol said, pointing at the neck. “Looks like whoever was trying to put it down just missed the back of head.”

Daryl straightened up, looking worried still. “We’ll have to remind ev’rybody to be more careful on the fence. What if somebody had gotten bit ‘cuz that fucker wasn’t quite dead?”

“It could’ve been my fault,” you said quickly. “I was working the fence too.”

“Well, I doubt ya need the reminder now,” Daryl said seriously, giving you a concerned look. You only nodded. “Look, why dun ya just head back up to the prison for a bit. Get outta the sun and get some water.”

You cocked your head as you looked at him. “What? No,” you laughed. “You think that’s enough to scare me off? Hell no, Dixon,” you said, already smiling at him again. “Let’s get this shit done.”

Carol smiled and shrugged. “You heard her, Dixon,” she teased, leaning down to grab another corpse by the wrists and pull it away.

The pile moved away from the fence and ready to be burned, you and Carol were about to start back to the prison when there was a rustling in the brush nearby. A scraggly looking walker wandered out and started toward the group of you, reaching up with hands that were missing several fingers.

Daryl unsheathed his knife with a well-practiced movement. “I got it,” he said, jogging over to put it down with a skillful stab to the head. He paced back, wiping his knife on his pants. “I’ll ask Rick where he put the gas/oil mixture for burnin’ this later. Ain’t no reason we gotta do it in this sun. Let’s head back up,” he drawled.

You nodded in agreement and pulled your gloves off, glancing at him with a half-smile. “Hey, do you have your bandana on you?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he said pulling it out from his back pocket and offering it to you. “Why?”

You took it, stepped in close to him, and dabbed at a spray of blood on the side of his neck from the walker he’d just put down, wiping it away. “You didn’t feel it?” you laughed. “Apparently it was a juicy one.” You held his bandana out to him again.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling his face flush a little with heat. He noticed Carol watching the interaction with that same vague smile on her face. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Alrigh’. Let’s head back inside them fences… One close call is more than enough for today.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

When Daryl saw you again in a few hours, he could tell you’d cleaned up after your morning shift on the fence. Your hair was down, framing your face and was shining in the sun. There was no more sweat or grime clinging to your skin anymore. You waved as you caught his eyes already on you and he gulped as you made your way over.

Daryl, on the other hand, was still just as filthy as he had been when you all left the pile of walkers outside the fence behind, perhaps moreso. His hands were covered in oil and grime from working on his bike. He felt suddenly self-conscious as you stopped beside him in your fresh clothes.

“I was looking for you,” you said.

“Me?” Daryl straightened up next to his bike.

“Yeah. Carol said you haven’t eaten anything all day,” you said pointedly, your eyebrows lifting.

He shrugged. “Just ain’t gotten around to it yet, I guess,” he drawled, fiddling with the tool in his hands.

“I see. You’re just entirely too busy to take care of yourself?” you retorted. As you talked, you reached out and wiped away a smudge of oil on his forearm casually.

Daryl, however, couldn’t be casual about the spark he’d just felt from that little touch of your fingertip. It jumped up to his arm and seemed to have made its way to his heart, because it was now racing. He gulped.

“Well, what if I fix you a bowl of something and bring it out? You worked hard this morning. You should eat,” you said, cocking your head at him. “We can’t have you suddenly passing out out here and faceplanting onto the cement,” you teased him.

He fixed his blue eyes on you for a long moment. “Ya ain’t gotta do that. ‘M almost done out here. I can come in and—”

You grabbed his arm again and Daryl almost stepped backwards from the way his body seemed to react to your touch again. It was nearly overwhelming. “Daryl, what I asked was if you would eat it if I brought it out. It’s a simple question,” you said, shooting him a playful look. “So?” Your hand was still on his arm. It was light and gentle, but he could feel the softness of your skin. He stared at it for a long second and then managed to clear his throat enough to respond. “Y—yeah, I’d eat it, I guess.”

“Good,” you said, nodding. “I’ll be right back then.” You disappeared back inside.

Rick happened to wander by carrying the gas can for burning the pile of walkers just a minute later. Daryl was bent over his bike, muttering expletives under his breath. “Ho—watch out!” Rick said suddenly, and Daryl shot up as he felt Rick’s hand brush his back.

Daryl jumped, spun around, and shook him off. “What the hell, man?” Daryl growled.

Rick laughed and held his hand up, palm out. “Sorry! You had a huge horsefly on your back! You’re welcome.” He shook his head. “With that reaction next time I might just let you get bit,” Rick joked.

Daryl shook his head. “Sorry. Ya just startled me is all.”

“It’s alright,” Rick replied. “I’ll go take care of those bodies.” He gestured with the gas can.

Daryl nodded. “Alrigh’. Be careful out there. Fire will probably bring more of ‘em in.”

“I’ll take Glenn out with me,” Rick said, and then he was off.

A moment later you were back with a bowl of food for him. It was some kind of noodles with some venison and a few fresh tomatoes from the garden. “Alright. Break time, Daryl,” you demanded. “I need to make sure you actually eat, since apparently you won’t.”

Daryl tugged his bandana from his back pocket and mopped at the oil on his skin the best he could.

You set the bowl in his hands and your fingertips brushed his skin. You didn’t seem to notice. For Daryl it was impossible not to. “Thanks,” he murmured, grabbing a seat on a nearby concrete block.

“No problem.” You came and sat down next to him, sighing good-naturedly and looking out over the green grass of the yard. Rick was just lighting up the pile of walkers outside the fence. A breeze was blowing the tops of the trees around, sending the leaves fluttering and changing their hues. Fluffy clouds drifted by lazily.

Daryl dragged a hand across his mouth. “Mmm. S’good. Thanks,” he murmured, hurriedly taking another bite. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he’d started eating.

You smiled at his voracious eating habits and leaned your chin on your hand, your elbow propped on your knee. You reached over again with your free hand and attempted to smooth that same stubborn strand of his hair that had been sticking up all day. Goosebumps rose up Daryl’s back.

“Thought ya gave that up as a lost cause,” Daryl said through a mouthful, holding absolutely still while your fingers were in his hair.

“I did. Was just… I don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling. “I kind of like it.”

He shot you a look like you were crazy.

“What?” you laughed. “It’s endearing!”

“Yer nuts,” he joked, ducking his head again and turning back to his food. He didn’t see you biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, a fond and soft light in your eyes.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That evening, most of the group was gathered around a bonfire out in the yard. You’d all roasted scraps of venison from a deer Daryl had shot the day before, supplemented with vegetables from the garden and everyone was full and happy. Carol was rocking Judith and cooing over her. Maggie, Glenn, and Beth were playing a rowdy game of cards. Rick and Carl seemed content to watch the people they loved enjoying themselves and you and Hershel were off to one side talking about plans for fall crops when cool season time rolled around again.

Daryl was the only one who had wandered away by himself and seemed to be standing watch on one of the guard platforms. You noticed his broad-shouldered silhouette against the sky and excused yourself.

He turned at the sound of steps on the rattling metal stairs and straightened up when he saw you come around the corner.

You looked up and smiled at him and his heart jumped. “Hey,” you greeted him.

“Hey. Everythin’ alrigh’?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. You came to stand beside him at the railing and leaned forward on your forearms. “You okay? Were we all too rowdy down there?” you asked.

“‘M good. Just thought somebody should be on watch, ya know?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nodding.

“It doesn’t always have to be you though,” you said. “You take on a lot. You’re allowed to relax too. Your worth as a person isn’t tied to what you can do for the group.”

He looked at you with a semi-startled expression on his handsome face.

“And I see now that you needed to hear that,” you said your eyebrows lifting. “It’s true.”

You turned and looked back out over the shadows settling into the yard and the warm orange glow illuminating your found family.

Daryl was chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. He lifted a hand to rub at his right shoulder, wincing a little as he rotated it.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nah, s’nothin’. I must’a tweaked it when I was movin’ my bike this afternoon. Tha’s all. S’fine.”

“Hmm. Alright. Turn around,” you said, straightening up.

“What?” Daryl asked, one of his eyebrows quirked up with the question.

“I said turn around,” you said again.

“Why?”

“Just turn around!” you laughed. “What, are you scared of me?”

“Maybe a little,” Daryl replied, a half-smile turning up one corner of your mouth.

Your hands landed on your hips and you cocked your head at him with attitude. He surrendered and turned so his back was to you.

Your hands landed gently on his shoulders and you worked your fingers into his stiff muscles. They seemed to melt beneath your touch. “You are tense,” you said. You moved to massage his sore shoulder and you could feel that one specific spot seemed particularly tight and inflamed. Your touch became gentler and Daryl’s eyes shut. He was almost leaning into the light workings of your hands. “How’s that feel?” you asked him.

All he could get out was a satisfied hum which made you smile.

“You definitely pulled something over here. You’ll have to go easy on it for a bit.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Maybe ya can just keep doin’ that ‘til it’s all better,” he drawled.

You laughed lightly. “I take it this feels okay then,” you said.

“Mhm,” he hummed again.

You smiled to yourself. The man deserved a little TLC. After all, you had scared the shit out of him when that walker grabbed you. You’d never forget the sound of his panicked voice yelling your name.

Just then, there was more clattering on the stairs and your hands left Daryl’s shoulders as you both turned to look. Carol came around the corner and stopped short. “Oh—sorry. I hope I’m not interrupting, um, anything,” she said, smiling.

You felt your cheeks flush and Daryl was feeling the same thing in his chest and face. “No. Not at all,” you said, leaning back against the railing.

“I was just looking for Daryl,” she explained.

“You found him,” you said. “I should head back down and see if Rick needs help getting Judith down for bed anyway.” You glanced back over at Daryl and gave him a small smile. “Night. See you in the morning. Night, Carol.”

Daryl watched you go until you disappeared into the deepening darkness. Then he felt Carol’s eyes on him. He turned at looked at her and her expression and postured, crossed arms and all, could only be described as smug. “What?” he asked, nestling the edge of his thumbnail in between his teeth and biting down.

“I’m really sorry if I did interrupt something,” she said pointedly.

“Interrupt what?” he drawled, a little irritated.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. “Let me just ask you something. How come eight out of ten times if I go to ruffle your hair or wipe a smudge of something gross off you, I get my hand smacked away, but Y/N always seems able to make contact, hmm?”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. He simply stared back at her. Internally though, his mind and his heart were working in overdrive.

Carol laughed. “You don’t have to answer. I think we both know why,” she said with a satisfied smile.

Daryl sighed and ruffled a hand back through his wavy hair before resuming his position leaning on the railing next to Carol.

“You do like her though, don’t you?” Carol asked.

Daryl only continued to stare out over the dark yard, chewing on his bottom lip in that signature way of his. Carol’s smile widened and she nodded.

“I thought so.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Well, you beat all of us awake again today. I guess everything is back to normal,” Glenn said, kindly reaching out to give Daryl a friendly pat on the shoulder as he passed him. The archer flinched and Glenn gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

“Oh—nah, s’alrigh’,” Daryl drawled. “Just startled me… And yeah. Hope ya slackers had a good snooze. Some of us gotta get shit done around here,” he joked, shouldering his crossbow and heading toward the door to leave.

You happened to be coming back in with Judith in your arms and Daryl nearly ran into you, stopping short to avoid the collision. You laughed and greeted him, one of your hands reflexively landing flush in the center of his chest and staying there until the two of you had side-stepped around each other.

Glenn came to sit beside Maggie again, handing her the cup of tea he’d just gotten for her. “Did you see that? How he flinched?” he asked, a little sadly, his head indicating Daryl before the archer slipped out the door.

“Mhm,” Maggie nodded. “But did ya see that?” she asked, a faint smile tugging on her lips now. She nodded toward you across the room where you were sitting with Judith.

Glenn shook his head. “No. What? I was at the stove.”

Maggie’s smile widened. “Daryl nearly ran into her. She put her hand out and it landed right in the middle of his chest and it stayed there until they made their way around each other. And it almost seemed like Daryl didn’t want to step away from her. He didn’t flinch. He may have even moved in closer. He couldn’t stop lookin’ at her,” Maggie said.

Glenn nodded slowly, his eyebrows lifting as realization dawned on him. “Well, last night… the two of them disappeared from the bonfire... You don’t think—?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie laughed jovially. “But if they aren’t, they should. Daryl needs that. And he’d be good for her too. He’s always been so protective of her and you can just tell there’s somethin’ there.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was late afternoon when you spotted Daryl taking a break out in the yard. He was sitting on the stump used to chop wood, the axe leaning up against the wood pile nearby. Having just finished sorting some of the newly discovered supplies with Carol, you were ready for a break yourself.

“Hey,” you greeted him, tugging another round of wood over next to him.

“Hey,” he returned, watching you take a seat beside him. He found himself wringing his hands a little nervously.

As you settled in next to him, your arm floated behind him for a moment, your palm gently rubbing across his shoulder blades, almost giving his back a gentle scratch, and then tapering off down his spine in an affectionate gesture. Daryl froze, fluttering bursting to life in his chest again. Electric tingles ran up his back. He swallowed hard. “Why d’ya do that?” he asked suddenly.

You turned and gaze him a questioning look, the small smile dying on your lips. “Do what?”

“Ya know, ya rub my back or—or try to smooth down my hair—”

Your eyes went a bit round and then your brow furrowed, casting shadows over the rich color of your irises. “Oh. Does it bother you? I’m—I’m sorry, Daryl. I probably should have asked you if you were okay with me breaking the touch barrier like that with you. I’m really sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I won’t—”

“What? No. No, it doesn’t—I, uhh—I just mean—” Fuck. How could he explain this without having to confess all his deeply held feelings for you on the spot? “It’s—it’s nice… is all,” he finished lamely.

Your expression relaxed. “Yeah?”

He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. “I just—I ain’t ever really had anybody that—that did that kinda stuff with me, ya know? I mean—” he broke off. He didn’t want to go there. He’d had sex. He wasn’t completely inexperienced, but it had never felt anywhere near as intimate as your fingertips brushing his arm did.

Your lips formed a soft pout and the worry lines in your forehead reappeared. “You mean, touched you… affectionately?”

He nodded a little, keeping his eyes fixed toward the horizon, unable to look at you in that exact moment. “Yeah.”

Your heart ached. You nodded. “I see…” you breathed. You paused thoughtfully for a moment. You thought of all the people in your past who had touched you with love of all kinds—your parents, your best friend, hugs from extended relatives and friends, playfully holding hands as a child, touches with past partners… To think Daryl had never really had any of that broke your heart. You turned toward him and your fingers landed lightly along his jaw, gently turning his face toward you so you could see his bright blue eyes. You clasped his face for a moment and his eyes closed for just a split second. He actually leaned into the touch of your palm and you felt another pang in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, your fingertips trailing off his skin. “You should have had people your whole life touching you with love and friendship and care. And I’m so sorry you didn’t. We all need touch. It’s something fundamental to us as humans.”

You were close together, your knees almost bumping together.

Daryl’s eyes flickered between yours. “Yeah… I dun think I realized that until—pretty recently,” he said. “But ya don’t, uhh—I mean, I’ve noticed ya don’t… do the same thing with ev’rybody. I mean—not—not exactly the same,” he ventured.

“You noticed?” A small smile came back to your face. “No. You’re right. I don’t,” you agreed. You gave him a significant look and his heart began absolutely pounding in his chest, like he was running for his life, hard and fast.

“Oh…” he drawled, his eyes going suddenly unfocused.

“Yeah,” you said with a laugh, your cheeks heating with a blush. “Um, listen—come find me after dinner tonight. I’ve got first watch in the guard tower. Alright?” You stood and Daryl found himself looking up at you, wishing you wouldn’t go.

He could ask you to stay… but he just nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Alright. Tonight.”

“Great,” you said, flashing him a smile that made him glad he was sitting down already. You would have nearly knocked his knees out. How was he going to make it through the rest of the day? The waiting would be excruciating…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl looked up at the guard tower and could see your silhouette out on the platform against the warm splash of color from the setting sun. Inside the tower, a lantern glowed softly, illuminating the windows. He made his way up the winding stairs, trying to swallow his nerves to the best of his ability, but he found it wasn’t much use. He wiped his hands on his pants, suddenly aware that his palms were sweaty.

He pushed into the tower and found the door out onto the platform standing open. You looked over your shoulder at the sound of his boots and smiled at him, before returning to leaning on the railing, staring at the hues of salmon and orange and deep reds blazing across the sky as the sun sunk behind the trees at the horizon.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” you asked, meaning the sunset.

Daryl licked his lips nervously, but he was looking at you. “Yeah,” he drawled.

“I like how the sky is never the exact same. No two skies are alike. Something is always different with the colors or the clouds or the particular shade of blue. It makes me feel like even though the world has gone to complete shit… it hasn’t really. You know?”

Daryl leaned onto the railing beside you on his forearms and drank in the scene, humming his agreement. “Mhm.” He nervously shifted. “Um… why’d—why’d ya ask me up here?” He couldn’t stand the strenuous anticipation and wondering any longer.

You turned giving him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. You’ve probably been wondering all day. Well… I was wondering if I could kiss you and this seemed like a nice place to do it—private, nice view, stars will be out soon, unlikely to be interrupted…”

Daryl thought he must have heard you wrong. “Wait—what?”

You smiled at him, your eyes sparking with light. “I’d like to kiss you, if that’s alright?”

He stared at you. “Ya wanna kiss me?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Huh… well—what if I wanna kiss you first?”

You gave him an amused look, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Then, I’d say this works out for both of us?” you laughed.

He ducked his head for a moment. “Cuz I’ve wanted to kiss ya for—for a long time now. Prob’ly longer than you’ve wanted to kiss me,” he admitted. He shot a cautious look at your expression but you still just had that serene smile on your face.

“Daryl—” you said, stepping in toward him and gently taking hold of the front of his vest, “I don’t care who initiates it, but I’d like it to happen n—”

You didn’t get the last word out, because Daryl’s lips landed flush on yours and his hand was tangling into your hair, the other landing lightly on your waist. He seemed a little tense at first, nerves maybe, but quickly you melted into each other, your knees weakening, and he tugged you against him as your arms looped around his neck.

Your hearts were racing in time together and you were both breathless when you broke apart, pulling back only enough to breathe. Daryl’s fingers drummed anxiously on your lower back.

“Was… that alrigh’?” he asked.

“Alright?” you repeated. “It was perfect,” you said.

He looked relieved. “Good. ‘Cuz… it was for me too,” he said softly. “And I’d like to do it again, if tha’s alrigh’?”

You grinned and arched into him, crashing your lips against his. This kiss was fiery and hungry and you didn’t break apart for a long time. Daryl held your body firmly against his and the two of you moved without any clumsiness or reticence, reading each other easily and sinking into it.

The sun was now nearly completely gone and the first stars were appearing in the inky sky. The moon was rising. You bit your bottom lip, looking up at Daryl. “I was hoping you’d stay until my shift is over.”

“Mmm,” Daryl nodded, his hands still on your waist. “Alrigh’. But s’gonna be hard to keep watch with ya distractin’ me.”

“Well, there are two of us… only one of us really needs to be watching at a time,” you joked, laughing lightly. You stroked your fingers through his wavy hair, brushing it away from his face, and his eyes closed at your touch. “I brought a blanket up to sit on. Come on.”

Daryl settled down on it first and then nudged his head in a way as to request that you sink down against him. His arm draped behind you and landed on your hip. His fingers moved a little absently, feeling your softness and angles. “Thanks,” he said suddenly.

“Hmm? For what?” you asked, looking over at him and catching his eyes for a moment before he ducked his head and shrugged.

“For bein’ you and… bein’ the way ya are with me,” he drawled. He didn’t know how to voice that as long as he’d known you, every little touch you gave him, innocent or maybe more, felt like nothing he’d ever felt before, and he found himself craving it, craving you. But he’d never known for sure, beyond the doubt instilled in him, if it was one-sided or not. Now, he knew.

You smiled at him and then tucked yourself against him, your head resting under his chin, your hand moving softly on his bare arm, leaving tingles in its wake. The last light of the sun disappeared and was replaced with the cool glow of the moon and endless stars, and the two of you soaked in each other. Daryl seemed more confident as the minutes passed and drank you in, slowly touch-starved no longer and hoping he would never be again.

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hitomisuzuya · 16 days ago

Note

Secret admirer+neighbour reader that allows Scara to stay over in her room whenever shit gets rowdy at his home for whatever reason. She leaves letters of encouragement in his locker and snacks and stuff. He found it stupid at first but gave up 'reluctantly'.

But like, pls, he knows it's her. The way she looks at him, hopefully, every time he scowls a certain way, he gets a more expensive snack (within the budget of a little middle-class lady, of course), and he starts liking her a bit too...

And anyway, they get into a cute little confrontation when she cares about him a little too much, with a bit too much honesty with the cutest outfit and he's turned on and- you get the idea.

Please, praise kink. Praise my hubby🥺🥺 maybe a bit of degrading from him.

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with some plot. fluff. degradation. praise for scara. cunnilingus. for narrative purposes, college has lockers for people who live off campus.

i grinned when i read this ask. legit scaramouche would fall in love kicking and screaming reluctantly about it the whole time🤣 this is a little long.

if scaramouche had it his way, he would've chosen to live on campus at the dorms. but no, being so close to the college made his bitch mother suggest he might be more comfortable just living at home. incidentally, it was over just that issue that you meant scaramouche officially for the first time.

you swore he slammed the door loud enough to rattle to every window of his house. and yours. naturally, it startled you, being out on the porch looking at the orange and purple painted clouds of the sunset. you'd seen him around campus before, but social anxiety often came into play. and he sort of treated you like a nuisance when you tried to talk to him.

"you okay?" you asked, giving him a soft look of concern.

"huh? do you need something?" scaramouche snapped, glaring at you in a way that would've made anyone instantly fuck off.

anyone wasn't you, though. "no, it just sounds like you were fighting with someone," you replied, his glare making your cheeks flush.

"yeah, bitch mother," it was like he didn't want to dedicate the extra few seconds of time to string together a longer sentence to mention her in.

"you can come hang out with me in my room for awhile until things cool down. no one is home right now but me," you said shyly, playing with your hair in an annoying way he absolutely couldn't miss.

"uh, sure. yeah whatever, gimme a few minutes," scaramouche grumbled, turning to go back inside the house. back inside to tell his mother to fuck off one more time. he was automatically suspicious. why were you offering? what did you stand to gain from it?

he thought about these questions while he unplugged (ripped the cords out of the outlet) his xbox, and slammed the door again. threw the door to your house open, and sort of stomped up the stairs. he promptly hooked his xbox up to your tv like he was automatically entitled to it.

but you didn't mind. scaramouche always made you feel weak in the knees. you even got him to tell you what he wanted for dinner so you could make it for him.

this became almost something of a daily occurrence. an occurrence that scaramouche was startled to find how comfortable he was becoming with.

you sure are a strange one. you even sat and watched him play video games late into the night, monopolizing your tv and not really giving a shit if there was something you wanted to watch. you never said a thing if there was. dvrs exist, after all. you would cheer him on and praise him when he was playing good. you looked stuff up on your phone to help him if he got stuck on a part somewhere.

you would remind him about tests tomorrow. he told you whatever and ended up not studying. he didn't really need to honestly. thing is, though, you started leaving notes of encouragement tucked into his folders or notebooks. or left them in his locker with some sort of disgusting sweet treat. "for you to enjoy now or later. it's up to you. good luck today."

he thought it was incredibly stupid. what could you possibly gain from this nonsense? "i don't like sweets," he said, tossing a baggie of oreos on your desk. "disgusting. absolutely no thanks."

your posture stiffened a little, like you'd just been caught red handed doing something secretive. in a way, you had been. "wh-what are you talking about?" you stammered shyly, "who left you those?" you paused for a moment, twisting lock of hair around your index finger. "incidentally, what would you want for something like that?"

scaramouche almost snorted. god, you are so transparent. he knew it was you, but you are still trying to play it off like it wasn't, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. it was disgustingly adorable so he let you carry on with it in his own way. stop it.

"salted rice balls with sea weed in the middle. i like those, not the toxic waste that is chocolate. or rather horse shit," he replied, rolling his eyes.

sure enough, a few days later, salted white rice balls with seaweed in the middle appeared in his locker the next morning. "please, eat these. sorry about before. you try so hard and deserve a good treat."

fuck, fuck, fuck!

he was starting to tuck your notes into his pockets to keep with him throughout the day. some of the snacks you make him looked expensive. and you were the type to buy the ingredients and hand make them yourself. you had to have been getting up super early in the morning to make them or staying up late the night before.

and every time he called you out on it, you shyly played it off. even joking with him about him having a secret admirer, though he swore you looked a little sad at the thought of someone else liking him like you weren't talking about yourself.

even worse, scaramouche started looking at you and thinking; shit, she looks really cute today. those are thigh highs she's wearing cup her thighs perfectly. it makes me wanna..

he'd had enough when he started jacking himself off after he left your house for the night. thinking of you, the innocent girl next door who doted on him and gave him attention. who is way too sweet for her own good. with this stupid crush on him that you refused to say anything about.

how dare you make him fall in love.

you started wearing thigh highs when he mentioned casually he likes them, tempting him with a garter belt. a garter that his eyes strained to casually get a peek at if the pleats of your skirt bounced in just the right way.

he caught you on your way out the door to go the convenience/grocery store that stayed open all night, a list of ingredients and a recipe in your hand to read on the way.

"why do you do this nonsense?" scaramouche asked, snatching the slip of paper out of your hand. he couldn't help but smirk. just like he thought, there was a recipe for rice balls with eel in them and miso soup. you were even going to stop by the coffee shop and get his favorite coffee.

...

fucking hell, you are way too sweet for your own good but damn it, he enjoyed soaking up every bit of your attention now. his bitch mother even "accused" him of dating someone a few days ago. the nerve!

"i..i." you stammered shyly in a way that made him want to kiss you. really really badly. you knew you were caught. "was i that obvious?"

scaramouche snorted. "you are so obvious that you could've landed plane without waving your arms. it was actually a little pathetic," he sighed seeing your reaction. why did you do that? why did your cheeks flush when he flat out insulted you?

and that was how you ended up on your back on his bed, your legs spread and stripped almost entirely of your clothes as he crawled between your legs. "these stay on," he insisted, hooking his finger under the top of your thigh high, letting it snap back on your thigh. he'd angrily kissed you all the way up to his room, pawing at your clothes and swallowing your moans into his mouth.

you always took care of him in your room. and now he was taking care of you properly in his room. it was a chore to fight his pride, anyways. and he didn't want to fight it anymore.

having his hands holding your thighs apart while he licked slow, hungry stripes up and down your pussy was much more preferable. "desperation is good color on you, slut," he groaned, teasingly kitten licking your clit before sweeping it down to swirl around your hole. youclenched on the tip of his tongue like he imagined that you would.

"i..i can't help it," you moan shakily, squirming as you grind on his mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm so in love you with it hurts. i just..just," you are cut off when scaramouche latched his lips around your clit, letting out a gasp of pleasure. your clit tingled and throbbed as he sucked, prodding and swirling his tongue in a way that made a dizzying warmth spread through your core. "i wanted your attention."

you sound so fucking cute it made his cock ache almost painfully. did you have any idea how unbearable you made it all the fucking time? "i saw right through your pathetic attempts to woe me. praise me more, slut. it's making me hard," he groaned, drunk on the taste on your pussy soaking his tongue.

he held your pussy against his mouth as you grinded on his tongue, your fingers finding his hair and pushing his mouth down. "you are perfect, scara!" you cry out, your clit throbbing twice as hard underneath his tongue. "your tongue feels so good! you are all i ever think about!"

he could edge himself on your words praise, soaking up every word. "go on. keep going while i tongue fuck you," he moaned, focusing his tongue on your clit again.

his tongue working your pussy over like a starved animal was making you start to babble nonsense. "your so smart, and handsome and strong. your fingers are beautiful, so beautiful i want to suck on them. don't stop, please. please," you have the cutest sounding whimpers when the jolts of pleasure rocketing through you were too much for you to process.

your precious babbling spurred scaramouche's tongue on, one hand reluctantly leaving your thigh to palm and rub his cock outside his jeans. you deserve to cum hard on his tongue for sounding so sweet.

you twitch and spasm in bliss, tugging urgently on his hair. your hips bucked up to rub and grind on his mouth. you writhed on the bed, relaxing into his possessive squeeze on your thighs. it wasn't long before you couldn't keep it together anymore. or at least as together as you thought you had it. you'd broken on his tongue a long time ago.

you whimper weakly behind your shameless moans, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you. it was so strong it nearly even made your fingers fall limp in his hair. his tongue lovingly fucked you through your orgasm until you were panting and shaking on the cusps of overstimulation. he lapped at your release.

"i think i found the only sweet i will enjoy," satisfied, he sat up and wiped his mouth. you are practically passed out on his bed, exhausted and overloaded. neither of you were making it to your evening classes. he planned to spend that time further devouring you once he let you sleep a little.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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elliesgaythoughts · 9 months ago

Text

Take it

MDNI

SubEllie x FemaleReader

Warnings: strap e!receiving, fingering, chokehold e! Receiving, fucking Ellie in prone, Ellie passes out(kinda🤷‍♀️), squirting, spit (once), mama kink goes both ways, reader kisses Ellie’s bewty cheek🩷

No plot! Just straight (not really) fucking!

You admire the view of her in front of you, the sight of her auburn head pressed against your white pillow, the porcelain skin on her back that arched perfectly, the light glisten of her slick drooling down her thighs “please” she whispers, her pink lips brushing against her pillow, eyes closed.

You’ve been ogling at her for only a few seconds but for her probably felt like eternity “please” she repeats herself.

“Gimme a second baby, you look so pretty like this”

“For fuck sake” she mutters as she turns her head on the pillow and deepens the arch in her back, trying lure you in.

Your palm lands harshly against her asscheek and you see her shiny clit twitch at the impact “the fuck did you just say?”

“Nothingg” she whines.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought.” Your palm gently massages the sting of your slap and she sighs, relaxing.

The tip of your index finger trails down her ass, down her slit and stops on her clit “you wouldn’t talk back, right?”

She’s pulsing around nothing “n-no never”

You land a stingy slap to her clit causing her to yelp in pain and try to close her legs but your hands land behind her knees pinning them in place and you swear you almost hear a little sob come from the dainty girl “that’s righhht” you coo “because you’re a good girl Ellie” she hums in agreement.

You kiss her cheek and stand straight again, leaning your pelvis forward, your cock resting between her pussy lips and she whimpers.

“Say it” you instruct her sternly.

“Um I-I’m a good girl”

“Mhmm such a good fucking girl” you start sliding your length up and down her pretty pussy and it quickly getting covered in her slick, you slide your tip across her clit then press your tip against her entrance “you want it?”

“Yesss yess” she pleads.

“Of course you do, you fucking slut” you say dismissively, Ellie’s squeak of surprise is cut off when she feels you spit onto her tight little hole.

She realeases a gutteral moan as you barely push your tip in and she loses the arch in her back.

But you weren’t having it you press your hand onto her spine and push her belly to your mattress “Nuh uh, you know how I like you” you say pushing juuust the tip into her entrance, you watch as she restlessly turns her head, laying on her left cheek then right, her nails sinking into your duvet.

“You gonna do whatever I say?”

You’re slowly working your way inside her

“Yess! Please mama”she begs then cries a shattered “please” aww you’ve already broken her and you aren’t even halfway inside her yet.

You push into her deeper just over half way “make yourself cum”

She whines patheticly as she holds her weight on her palms and starts to push her hips onto your cock but you stop her, leaning forward and grabbing both her elbows and pulling them up till they’re right besides her waist, her face falling into the pillow weakly.

“Not like that” you drop them.

She sobs patheticly again, rolling her hips against your length.

“Want you to play with your pussy”

“Mama no-” she’s cut off when both your palms land harshly on each of her asscheeks and start to slide her off your length.

“Waait!” Ellie squeals, as she struggles to lift her hand, bringing it to her lips and weakly spitting on them before reaching down to her clit, sighing in relief as she starts to lazily massage small circles into it “see baby” you coo “just want my pretty girl to feel good”

She nods stupidly, mind in the clouds.

You lean forward causing her to moan at the feel of your tip hitting her sensitive spot “such a good girl” you whisper in her ear and begin kissing down her spine, pulling out more with each peck, all the way till you reach her right ass cheek and peck her there, you look down to see her entrance empty but a line of slick connecting your tip to her throbbing entrance and her fingers still working at her clit desperately.

Without warning you push two of your fingers inside her thrusting gently and curling them down just right to hit that spongy spot inside her.

You lower yourself to your knees, face to face with her perfect cunt admiring how her and your fingers both work to bring her so much pleasure, it’s almost poetic, you close your eyes, still massaging that spongy spot inside your girlfriend and place kisses all down the back of her thigh, feeling the little hairs there tickle against your lips, you’re gone, completely lost in the woman in front of you, thanking whoever or whatever it was that brought her into your life, but she yet again pulls you outta your trance by whispering “so c-close nghh” her walls closing in on your digits confirm it as you pull out of her and she starts to whine in protest but you cut her off “want you to do it yourself, remember?”

“Mhmm” she whines as her fingers glide frantically across her clit.

You lick a strip up the back of her thigh as Ellie chants your name repeatedly, your hands wrap around her legs your fingers digging into the front of her thighs, feeling the muscle there tremble, she’s writhing in front of you as you peck gently at her skin, she mumbles something incoherent, her voice high, her legs shaking as little cute spirts of liquid leave her, you grab her wrist pulling her hand away “that’s enough baby” you take her whole clit into your mouth sucking on her gently, your tongue rolling over the soft skin, broken pleads leaving her lips as a steady stream of her release starts to leave her while she squeals, reaching between her legs trying to push your head away, you slap her hand away and lightly trail your fingertips up and down her outer thighs, feeling the goosebumps there and when you decide you’re done you hum against her clit in satisfaction before placing a kiss on her pearl and pulling away, she just sighs and falls forward.

You silently stand up and scan her body, watching her lay flat, arms beside her loosely as she lays limp on the bed.

You gently climb over her, your arms caging her in as your strap lays against her pussy as you whisper praises into her ear, she slowly grinds against you and your heart melts at how cute she is, you watch as you drag your tip along her folds, finally reaching her leaking hole sliding into her again, she tries to mumble something in response but she’s already too drunk on you to function as you slip into her a bit easier now, her hips are bucking away from you as you continue to stretch her out, your palm on her spine presses her to the bed as you continue to push yourself into her, you know she can handle you, she’s took you countless times before.

She sobs while squeezing her thighs together.

“Aww is it to much baby?”

She just whines into her pillow her face resting in her own drool.

“Yeah it’s too much, you can’t handle it.” You start to pull out but she arches her back hurriedly, trying to take your full length back in squealing at the stretch.

“Oh, you want it baby?”

“Mhmm” she squeeks into the pillow.

You kiss between her shoulder blades “so greedy” you laugh.

You start circling your hips to open her up, slowly easing yourself out at the same time till you’re barely inside her anymore, “love you Ellie” you mutter into her ear as your palm presses into the bottom of her spine to still her again and your forearm wraps around her throat.

You ram your full length into her and she cries out as one of her hands come up to your arm and claws at it “shh, it’s okay mama I got you” you slam into her again, hearing her pussy squelch “mhmm taking me so well angel” you coo as you slowly pick up your pace, slamming into her at a steady rhythm, your pelvis slapping against her ass.

At this point her legs are moving in all directions, her back arching then rounding just trying to get some space in her pussy that’s so full, you only ram into her faster, wet slapping sounds filling the room as you tilt your head and place a kiss onto her neck “doing so well for me mama” you fuck into her firmly with each word in your next sentence “so. so. well.”

Her eyes roll to the back of her head and she squeezes them close, her lashes glistening, you instantly missed her pretty eyes.

“Open your eyes, wanna see you” and you watch as she slowly opens her heavy eyelids, her glossy eyes meeting yours as you pick up your pace even more, your headboard beating against your wall as a cute pout forms on her lips her eyes close again letting cute little tears steam along her blushed cheeks, she’s gasping for air as she stutters out “c-close, so u-uh so so-” her stupid babbling is cut of when you lift your hand from her spine, holding your weight on your other palm as you reach down to rub her clit.

Her body is jerking as she mumbles fuck under her breath over and over. Your movements are met with resistance as her cunt clamps onto you, the base rutting against your clit has you moaning against her neck.

“Fuck fughh fffuck” she’s grunting out as her finger wrap around your wrist as you continue to toy with her clit, her other hands fingernails digging into the back of your hand besides her head “take it, take it, fucking take it” you’re babbling out as she literally sobs beneath you into your pillow, screaming in pleasure and in an instant your fingers are soaked in her release, she squeals as you continue to ram into her, tears still flowing from her eyes as her cum continues to spill out her like a faucet, soaking your sheets and harness.

You eventually slow down, gasping for breath as you lay against her, cock still inside her, your breasts pressed against her back “did so good for me baby” you mutter into the back of her neck. SILENCE. You trace your lips side to side on her skin “Ellie” you whisper. NOTHING. You pick your head up and look down at her face and she’s out, she’s alseep or passed out, you don’t even know at this point as you lean back pulling out her and see her soft features scrunch up and a little whine leave her lips.

You stand off the bed and admire the huge wet spot on your bedding, finally having peace to take in her pretty self as you take your harness off and crawl back onto the bed, laying besides her, tapping her cheek lightly, she only hums in response.

“I gotta change the sheets baby” you coo.

“No” she breathlessly whispers, eyes still close.

“No?” You laugh.

“Mhm” she hums, smiling and snuggling into her pillow.

You sigh crawling behind her and snuggling into her, smiling and placing a kiss on the back of her head, she giggles and wiggles her ass against your crotch as you roll your eyes, blushing and drawing soft circles into her waist, drifting off to sleep with her.

2nd pic cred to @astralnymphh , I found it on her Pinterest, check it out, it’s so cutee🩷(it’s the same name as her account)

@elliemontana @isitadinosaur @nibislily

#ellie williams #abby anderson #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x black!reader #ellie tlou #abby the last of us

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megumiluvv · 5 months ago

Text

Making You a Mommy

Cont: Choso x fem!reader, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it 😉), praise kink (duhh), no plot just smut, use of “pretty” and “baby” for reader, aftercare mentions, pussy-drunk Choso!! mentions of “making you a mommy” like a lot

Word count: 593

Masterlist

A/n: this is NOT part of my babysitter au, I just remembered that I could write smut lolll. I wrote this at 3 AM so don’t judge too hard </3

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ❀ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

“Fuck, pretty, you’re sucking me in,” Choso groans as he thrusts into you. You’re spread out and laid on your back in missionary, legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “Think she wants me to stay forever.” He smiles and whispers through another groan, referring to your pussy as “she”.

“Choso, fuck- right there!” You whine and wrap your arms around his neck as he peppers kisses onto your neck.

“Yeah? Feels good?” He thrusts harder into you and holds himself up, seeking your praise as he continually hits your sweet spot.

“So fucking good, Cho, it’s so good!”

Your praise goes to his brain and dick as he keeps pounding into your sweet little hole, his hands no longer holding himself up as he gropes your plump breasts and imagines them even fuller as his breeding side takes over and he imagines you pregnant with his babies.

“Yeah, you love it, huh? Love it when I pump you so full?” He seeks more of your praise, knowing the filthy words are only working you up more.

“Yes! Cho, I- fuuuck, I fucking love it, Cho!”

“Gonna cum again f’me? Gonna make a mess?”

“Yes- fuck! I’m gonna cum again, just keep going!” You whine and pull him impossibly closer.

As your nth orgasm hits, your body goes rigid and a silent cry seems to make its way into your expression as he keeps up his relentless pussy-drunk pace.

“You’re so tight, so perfect, pretty,” he groans into your ear and nibbles at your earlobe.

His praise affects you the same yours does to him. You clench tighter around him and your eyes practically have hearts in them as you look at him and his pussy-drunk expression.

“So so pretty, baby,” he whispers and kisses you, sloppily twisting his tongue with yours only to pull away and pant as he thrusts impossibly harder.

“Gonna cum again, put some pretty babies into your womb. You want that? Wanna be a mommy?”

You can tell he’s just babbling to turn you both on even more, the thought of him breeding you only making you tighter around his cock.

“Fuck- yes! Yes, Cho, wanna be a mommy! Make me a mommy!” You cry into his shoulder and claw at his back.

“I’m gonna, just gimme a few more minutes, okay baby?”

“Cho, so deep, gonna cum again! Can’t cum any more!” You cry, the overstimulation causing your mind to slowly start to blank.

“I know, pretty, just let it out, I believe in you.”

His encouragement causes you to cum again and your juices only make him slide faster and deeper into you as you become somehow tighter around him. He groans and finally cums as well, fucking the seed deep into you.

“Fuuck, pretty, gonna make you a mommy, cumming so deep into you,” he groans and stills his hips reluctantly due to his own overstimulation, opting to just lay on top of you and relish in the moment with you.

You both slowly come down from your highs and he pushes your sweaty hair out of your face.

“Did so good, pretty, let’s get you cleaned up,” he whispers.

“Tired…” You whine.

“I know, baby, but we gotta get this sweat cleaned off and your juices off our thighs. I’ll run a bath so you don’t have to stand.”

“Fine…”

He chuckles as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom. He doesn’t know if he truly can make you a mommy, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try every time.

#this was written at 3 am lollll #choso kamo #choso #jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk #choso smut #choso kamo smut #choso x female reader #choso kamo x female reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut

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heartsforvin · 4 months ago

Text

DRUNK ON LOVE

you guys are fuckin SLUTS for wanting this so bad (literally me too i love the idea of this man actin this way)

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral ( f receiving), praise, mild hair pulling, cum eating, cum play, kinda porn w no plot, overstim, spit play, if i missed anything lmk !!

summary: vinnie loves the taste of you on his tongue and can’t help but get lost in the moment

the position you were in was nasty — bent over the arm of the couch as your boyfriend ate you out from behind.

all that was heard from the two of you was the loud sounds of vinnie’s mouth on you and your moans.

he needed this, craved it like it was some drug. you knew vinnie’s favorite thing was to eat you out, but you didn’t know he loved it this much.

“pussy s’fuckin’ good, baby.” you hear your boyfriend slur as he laps up your wetness.

he moves one of your legs to rest over the arm of the chair before spreading your asscheeks apart.

he shakes his head back and forth as his tongue prods at your entrance at a fast pace.

you grip at the couch in front of you, needing something to steady yourself.

your legs are shaking, the movements of the blonde’s mouth is almost too much for you to handle.

“doin’ so good for me, pretty girl.” vinnie praises against you, his chin covered in your wetness.

you couldn’t see him, seeing as you’re facing the other way, but you could definitely feel him, and it felt amazing.

vinnie continues to suck at your clit while also grabbing a fist full of your hair and pulling it slightly.

a moan escapes your lips and vinnie smiles against your clit. no words are exchanged, just the filthy sound of his mouth on you.

vinnie watches you clench around nothing when he removes his mouth from you. he smirks, moving his hand up to you, gliding his finger against you.

his mouth attacks your clit again as he carefully pushes a finger into you, eliciting a whine from you.

“baby.” is all your able to get out before vinnie flips you around.

he smiles at you as he moves you to lay on the couch while he kneels in front of you.

he spreads you apart again, taking a real good look at you before kissing your clit.

“look at you,” his voice is deep, he’s completely submerged in this moment, in you. “prettiest fuckin’ pussy.” he doesn’t even finish his sentence before he’s back on you.

you fist his hair in your hands as his skilled mouth sucks at you again.

you squeeze your thighs around him which instantly makes vinnie moan into your heat.

he can’t get enough of you, you’re just too sweet. his nose nudges your clit and that’s what pushes you over the edge, not being able to warn vinnie beforehand.

you squeeze your thighs around him as you cum, making him moan into you once again which only spurs you on more.

“vinnie, please.” you’re a whining, shaking mess as he continues to not let up on you.

he’s too into this moment, almost like he’s drunk on the taste of you.

“c’mon baby, gimme another.” he rasps against you as he lifts his hand up to you, pushing the substance that slid out of you back into you again.

it was filthy really, but so hot at the same time. vinnie wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you up just a bit as he helps you grind your pussy into him, riding his face.

the stimulation of his mouth and you grinding into him, it’s all too much as you moan out for him again.

“that’s it baby, i know you’re close. give it to me, mama.” he encourages you.

your breathing is heavy and skin is glistening in sweat as you move your hips on him one more time before you cum again on his face.

vinnie takes it all with a satisfied groan once he feels you let go. you look down at him as he looks up at you through his lashes.

he’s not done with you yet, he’s only gotten two orgasms out of you so far, that wasn’t enough for him.

“n-no more vinnie, please.” you try and plead with him as you feel his fingers on you now.

vinnie tsks, looking up at you with the sweetest eyes. “sensitive?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

you nod as you feel his lips on you again, he kisses you once more, making you clench your legs.

“can’t stop now, princess,” vinnie mutters. “pussy’s too sweet, i can’t get enough.”

you buck your hips up against his face again when you feel him suck on your clit. you grip his hair, tugging as you feel his tongue on you.

the taste of you is too good he can’t let up, even if he wants too.

“love when i have you like this, don’t you baby?” he asks as you tilt your head back. “love feelin’ my mouth on your sweet pussy, huh?”

you moan at his words as they go in one ear and out the other at this point. you don’t know anything besides the feeling of vinnie’s mouth on your cunt.

the wet sounds are filthy as they merge in with your and vinnie’s combined moans.

he grips your thighs, absolutely with no doubt creating bruises that’ll appear the next day.

he moves his mouth from your cunt to the inside of your thighs, creating hickeys along them before continuing what he was doing.

“f-fuck, mouth feels s’good vin.” you whine out as you feel his tongue against you once again.

vinnie moans into you at the praise which spurs you on and you instinctively buck your hips up into him.

he lifts his face mere inches as he sees the white substance leak out of you. he smirks, his fingers find your pussy again and he spreads them along your folds.

he pushes the cum that has spilled out of you back inside, making you moan when you feel his finger inside you.

“gonna-“ you cut yourself off with a moan when you feel not only his finger but his moth on you. “shit!”

vinnie hums, loving the effort he has on you as you do him. “one more pretty, c’mon.” he urges.

you grind against him as you moan out profanities along with his name as you cum on his mouth for the third time that night.

you’re completely spent but vinnie doesn’t seem to care, too drunk and lost on your pretty, glistening, pussy.

he looks up at you as he glides his finger along your folds, collecting the substance.

“open,” he says once he’s face to face with you. you see your juices on his chin and smile.

you open your mouth to happily invite his index finger into your mouth. vinnie hums as he watches you suck his finger clean.

“good girl,” he praises as you keep the smile plastered on your face. “did so good f’me.”

he kisses you properly and you melt into it before pulling away after a few seconds.

vinnie tells you he’ll be right back and goes to grab a warm washcloth.

he carefully wipes up your thighs as you watch him. you gasp when you feel his fingers on you again, the sensitivity skyrocketing.

“vinnie.” you say warningly, making him look up at you with a smirk.

he finishes cleaning you up with one finally kiss to your cunt, making you whine. he helps dress you for the night before dressing himself.

his mind is a bit hazy still, so you help him come down by laying in bed snuggled together as you trace meaningless patterns on his chest.

before the two of you know it you’re both asleep in each others arms.

PUSSYDRUNK!VINNIE PUSSYDRUNK!VINNIE PUSSYDRUNK!VINNIE PUSSYDRUNK!VINNIE 🫦🫦

i hope you guys loved this as much as i loved writing it !! <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @khackerr , @sturnioloshacker , @native2princess , @visualbutterflysworld , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @leqonsluv3r , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @kriissy4gov , @louloulemons-blog , @defnotayonna , @supabhad , @kayleighh , @hallecarey1 , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @jpg3 , @violet0182 , @khxna , @eddieslut69 , @miilzzy

#vhackerr #vincent hacker #vvhacker #vinniehacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie x y/n #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vinniehacker headcanons

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taintandviolent · 8 days ago

Text

Regular ; Oz Cobb x Reader

summary: You live in Gotham City and are a waitress at a little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant. Oz is a regular and you've developed quite the crush on him.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 6.4K | older man/younger woman, semi-established history, making out, cockwarming, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering (female receiving, dirty talk, smut with a teensy bit of plot (but not really).

a/n: to the 99.9999% of my followers... I'm so sorry but I am begging you guys to hear me out about him!!!! I thoroughly expect this to flop, but I needed to write it for my own sanity. absolutely massive thank you to @redravenblogs for beta-reading! banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Ah, Tuesday night.

In Gotham City, every night is a good night for an Italian restaurant. Especially one that’s been in business since 1964 and acquired a hefty lot of aging locals that know the food is good, and a possibly even longer list of trendy, younger foodies that have heard that food is good because of the aging locals.

There’s also the… criminal side of the patrons. Have a place with delicious food and wine, and Gotham’s elite underground is sure to follow. You’ve seen your fair share of men who look like they’re here to discuss a deal over a good meal, and a number of elected officials with them. You know better than to meddle, though. You just do your job, and hope for a good tip. Usually, you get one.

Tonight, it’s raining. Heavily. Surprise, surprise. People flock in from the street as an escape from the deluge outside and the restaurant is filling up quickly. Your section is about three quarters of the way full, and you’re busy. You hear the door open again, followed by the momentary rush of the sound of tires on wet pavement outside. You straighten up, throwing your glance in the way of the entrance.

There he is. A warm smile spreads across your face as you watch him amble in, shaking the rain from his leather coat. Though his appearances aren’t regular, his habits are. He always sits at the same table in your section, towards the back and next to the corner window. Once he figured out it was in an area you attended to, he never sat anywhere else.

You only know him as Oz, the big sweetheart of a man who comes in and always orders the chicken parmigiana. Says it’s the best in town. After seeing him a few times, and sneakily taking note of his last name, you took it upon yourself to do a little digging and found out that he’s known for running with Falcone’s gang and that he’s also the owner of the elite Iceberg Lounge. You never bring those things up to him in fear of starting a conversation he doesn’t want to finish. It’s really none of your business, anyway. You give him a moment to settle into the booth, but once he does – you’re immediately headed that way.

“There she is,” he starts with a smile, watching you as you make your way over to the table, pulling your order notebook from your apron pocket. “There’s my girl.”

A blush hits your cheek – it does every time. From day one, he flirted with you, harmlessly and has continued it ever since. You’re used to patrons being a little flirtatious, but something about the way Oz does it makes your stomach tighten.

“Buonasera, Oz…” you say, your lips curling into a warm smile. In the year you’ve worked here, you’ve picked up a little Italian, but the appropriate greetings are mandated by management. “How you doin’?”

“Better now.”

You smile again and dip your chin to your chest shyly. He’s always so affectionate, so warm. For being a guy who meddles in Gotham’s seedy underbelly, he’s one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met.

“The usual?”

He nods. “The usual, sweetheart. But gimme’ a side of fettuccine tonight, huh?”

You scribble the order down, and snap your book shut. “You got it.”

“What time you off tonight, doll?”

“Same as every night, Oz. In about an hour.”

“They keepin’ you late every night, huh?”

“Yeah, but a girl’s gotta’ eat.”

He scoffs, shaking his head and shifts in the booth before looking up at you. “I keep tellin’ ya, I could take care uh ya, baby.”

The running joke, but sometimes you wonder if he’s serious. He always tips you generously, alarmingly so, and it’s always put directly in your hand, as though he doesn’t want anyone else knowing that he takes care of your groceries for the week.

“And I keep sayin’ I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Ahh–!” He jerks his head to the side, dismissing those words.

You reach forward to touch his broad shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Let me put your order in, honey. I’ll be right back with your wine.”

With that, you walk proudly off towards the back, swaying your hips. You can feel Oz’s eyes on you as you go and maybe the way you move is intentional, because you know he’s watching. So, what if it was? Can you really blame a girl for liking the attention?

As you round the corner to the kitchen, you clear your throat and call out to the cooks. Angelo is working tonight, and he’s one of the few guys who knows about your little affinity for Oz. As soon as you pin the ticket, Angelo spins the wheel around, looking at the order. He recognizes it, and gives you a knowing smile.

“Oh, look who’s back, eh?”

“Quiet,” you hush, looking back towards the table. You can’t see it from this angle, but you know he’s there, sitting, probably on his phone, or tapping his big knuckles on the wood of the table.

He looks at the sheet again, noticing the addition, and raises an eyebrow. “Boyfriend’s hungry tonight.”

“Angelo, will you quit it? He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sugar daddy then, eh?”

You scoff, giving him the finger before reaching for one of the bottles of wine – Oz’s favorite.

You return to his table with a skip in your step. It’s been about a week since you’ve seen him, and you can’t help the giddiness in your gait. As you bump your plush hip into the corner of the table, Oz grins crookedly at you, his gold teeth glinting in the low lighting of the restaurant. You reach into your apron, pulling out a corkscrew.

“So, whatcha’ been up to, Oz?” You say, as you twist the prong into the cork. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Ah, y’know… business as usual.”

He usually gives you an answer like that – something that doesn’t reveal too much about what he does. You wonder if he knows that you’ve looked into him. You suddenly furrow your brow at the cork – it’s being stubborn – and quickly situate the bottle between your legs, squeezing it tight between your thighs. This action isn’t lost on Oz, who watches you with a deeply interested grin, watching how your skirt rides up just slightly at the front, not enough to reveal anything aside from some of your creamy soft thigh flesh. Everything you do is done with such innocence, but there’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing to him, he thinks. After a moment of yanking, the cork finally gives way with a hollow POP and you grip the bottle, bringing it up to the table. You mutter a quiet apology and fill the glass, pulling the bottle back to wipe the edge on your apron.

“Well, it’s good to see you. Always is.”

Someone calls your name from behind you, and it’s one of the other tables, looking for refills. You offer Oz an apologetic smile, and head in that direction. Sadly, you don’t return until his food is ready. He’s extra present tonight; your eyes meet every time you look in his direction, giving him a timid smile and going about your tasks, but your heart flutters with an adoration for the older man. You’re attentive too, and go over to his table a million and a half times to ask how the food is, if he needs anything else.

“Only you, doll.”

You swat playfully at his shoulder, though the little quip has heat pooling in your core. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about him taking you over the table a handful of times; lustfully imagining what his hips would feel like rutting against your ass as he sunk himself inside of you. You constantly wondered what his cock looked like. He was a big man, and you assumed that rang true for all parts of him – but the hunger to find out was terrible.

He’s one of the last ones to leave, lingering as long as he can before it’s considered rude. Tonight, something’s different about him, like something is on his mind, something he wants to say. Each time you’re at his table, he looks like he’s about to ask, but never does. Finally, as you return to clear his table, reaching for the empty plates on his table, he downs the rest of his wine and clears his throat.

“Listen, sweetheart,” he says, pivoting slightly in the booth with some effort. “You uh, you busy after work?”

“N-no.” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You straighten up, holding the stacked plates with one flattened palm.

“Why don’t you come down to the Iceberg Lounge? Unwind a little.”

“Oh, Oz, I’m not much of a clubbing girl.”

There’s a glimmer of disappointment in those dark eyes of his, but he sets his jaw, and gets to his feet. This puts him in your proximity, and you can feel the heat rolling off his large body. Your stomach aches to lean into him, press yourself into his gut, and lace your arms around his neck.

“Just think ‘bout it.” He reaches in his pocket.

The tip he gives you tonight almost makes your knees give way. It feels thicker than usual in your left hand and when your fingers close around the bills, you swallow down the protests. You don’t dare count it, not in front of him or anyone else. You’ve stopped telling him no, or that he doesn’t have to, because it’s almost like it offends him. He always hushes you, and acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You tuck it in the pocket of your apron, and swallow hard again.

He smiles and steps around you. Your eyes are glued to the visual of him leaving, watching him through the windows as he limps down the sidewalk. God, you want him. It’s a lethal hunger, something that claws and rips at your insides.

Once the restaurant is empty, you and the rest of the crew make quick work of cleaning up and closing up shop. It’s about forty-five minutes later when you’re slipping your arms into the sleeves of your black, wool overcoat and heading through the door. The rain hasn’t stopped. If anything, it’s gotten worse. You heave a sigh. You’ve got a walk ahead of you, but it’s something you’re used to.

“Doll!”

You stop walking, poised just at the end of the sidewalk. You hoist your bag up on your shoulder and pull your jacket right around your neck, squinting into the rain.

“Oz? That you?” You take a step in that direction, knowing full well it is. Your casual act is embarrassing to you, but you persist, pretending you’re surprised to see him getting out of his car. It’s a nice one, too… a Maserati. Was he… waiting for you?

“Yeah,” he grumbles. “You ain’t walkin’ home in this, are ya?”

“Just to the station,” You defend.

“Nah. C’mon.” He limps around the front of his car, rain splattering against his leather coat. “Lemme’ give ya’ a ride.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Really. The rain is brutal and you’re cold, a chill settling into your bones. You hurry towards the plum-coloured car, your high heels clacking against the wet pavement as you do. Oz opens and holds the door for you, waiting patiently for you to make your way over. You get in the car gracefully, making sure not to flash him, though, you doubt he’d mind if you did. It’s warm inside, the heat is on, and the leather interior has absorbed some of that heat. You snuggle into the seat, watching in the rearview as Oz makes his way back around the car, and for a moment you’re surrounded by nothing but the sound of rain on the roof and the shlick of the wiper blades as they whisk the droplets off the windshield. The driver’s side door opens, and he tucks himself in. Droplets of rain decorate his shoulders, and he smears his hand over his hair.

“Where to, sweetheart?” He asks, a familiarity in his voice. He’s used to driving people around, but he’d drive you around the whole city if you asked.

“The complex on the corner of 7th and Onyx…” you say, almost sheepishly. Sure, it’s not the best part of town, but your little apartment is cozy, overlooking the city. You imagine he’s used to much nicer, and is probably silently judging the location.

“Oz,” you start, looking at the girth of his fingers as they wrap around the steering wheel. Your mind starts to wander, but you quickly reign it in with a hard blink and an inhalation of breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, doll. Anything you want.”

“Were you waiting for me to get off work?”

“Gotta’ look out for my favorite girl, y’know?”

It’s an indirect answer, but an answer all the same. You smile to yourself as he eases his foot into the gas pedal, the car moving forward. His right hand departs from the steering wheel to turn on the radio. Frank Sinatra’s crooning voice fills the inside, and for the rest of the drive, you’re silent, occasionally stealing looks at Oz as he drives. He handles the car beautifully, and you wonder if he handles a woman as well.

Oz is sweet. You know this. Despite his constant heavy flirting at the restaurant, he’s sweet, charming and at times, awkward. Endearingly so. But you aren’t taking pity on him. Your interest in him is purely selfish, driven by your lust for older, dangerous men. You inhale a deep breath and turn your attention to the road. You’re close to home. A few minutes later, he pulls up next to your building and puts the car in park.

You reposition yourself to face him, shifting your feet underneath you. He’s watching you, those smoldering, dark eyes following your every move. Carefully, you lean over the center console, enough to close in the distance between you two and press your lips against his warm, scarred cheek. His aftershave wafts into your nose, and you take a deep breath of it, remembering it. You think you hear his breath hitching.

“That’s for the ride, Oz.”

“Shit, I oughta’ drive you ‘round more often if that’s what it gets me, huh?”

You hesitate a moment, looking into his eyes. There’s that look again – like he wants to ask something. You fill the void with another question.

“Is our chicken parm really the best, or do you just come for me?”

Oz’s thick brows flick up on his forehead and he lets out a throaty chuckle. “Sweetheart...”

“Do you come for me?”

Now he’s really looking at you, squinting at you. Hearing that question repeated has him twitching in his goddamn slacks. He looks out to the rain, then back to you and you’re still staring at him, waiting for an answer.

“If you only fuckin’ knew,” he chokes out.

“Well.. what if I wanna’ know?”

“Doll,” he grins and laughs, almost nervously. It’s loveable and you can’t help but smile, your gaze fixated on his scarred mouth as he speaks. You aren’t staring negatively, quite the contrary. Like everything else unusual about him, you find his scars sexy.

“You don’t gotta’... y’know, do that.”

You smile again, letting your lids close slightly. He thinks you’re doing this because you’re what? Paying him back for all the tips? Treating him like a charity case? Hysterical. If he only knew.

“Answer my question, Oz. What if I wanna’ know?”

He shifts in his seat. Uncomfortable? You can’t tell.

“Then uh… I ain’t gonna’ deny you that. Find out.”

You lean back over, and instead of kissing his cheek, you tilt your head and go for his mouth, your soft, plush lips pressing against his. He doesn’t respond… not right away, at least. He’s stunned, but also trying not to devour you like some goddamned hungry animal. Finally, his lips twitch to life, pressing back against yours.

He ain’t used to this. But, fuck, it feels good.

As his mouth opens, his large hand comes up to the side of your face, holding you where you’re at. The cool chill of the band of his ring is a stark contrast against the warmth of his digits. His fingertips graze the edge of your hairline, massaging gently. The taste of his tongue in your mouth is intoxicating, the wine lingering on his breath mingles with his own personal notes. You let an open-mouthed moan fall from your throat, into his, and he reciprocates, moving his body slightly towards you. Your tongue slips along his bottom lip, pausing to nibble at it softly. He groans deep, his eyes rolling back in his head. You’re getting him stiff, worked up and all you’re fuckin’ doin’ is kissin’ him.

This is getting heavy. You feel your own arousal burning between your legs, a fiery, throbbing heartbeat that gets more incessant the longer his tongue is in your mouth, tasting you. Oz is practically taking you in mouthfuls, and your hand crawls over the center console, just far enough that your fingernails scrape against the fabric of his slacks, over his thigh. A desperate attempt to get closer to him without just straddling him in his front seat.

A deep rumble of thunder and a crack of lightning pulls you two from each other. You lurch away, panting, and look out through the front windshield. The rain comes down harder, and you can hardly make out the outlines of the buildings in front of you.

“I should… probably go inside before this gets any worse.”

You aren’t sure if you’re talking about the rain or the mutual arousal. Maybe both. He clears his throat in response; he wants to tell you that you’re a cruel woman, leaving him like this, but with the taste of you still on his tongue, he ain’t about to push his luck and get greedy. He unlocks the doors from the panel on his left. You open the door and get out, dragging your bag with you. You lean back inside, looking at him with dreamy, half-lidded eyes.

“I’ll see you, Oz. Thanks for the ride.”

But not the kiss? You cringe at your words. There’s that look again – but this time, you know he wants to ask you if you’re coming down to the Lounge later. You know it, and you’ve already made up your mind.

Instead, he shrugs with both of his shoulders. “Sure, sweetheart. Any time. I mean that.”

With butterflies in your stomach, you exit the car, and shut the door, careful not to slam it. You hold your purse above your head as you run to the front door and you hear the roar of Oz’s engine as he speeds off. The second you’re inside, you kick off your heels at the door and hurry to the back of the apartment. You flip the lightswitch, illuminating the modest bedroom. You pull the dress from the back of your closet, half expecting a cloud of dust to come with it.

Thank god it still fits.

You catch a cab downtown, which is much less luxurious than your previous ride. It drops you off in front, and the line to get in stretches down the length of the building. You knew it was a popular place, but you hadn’t expected this. The rain, nor the fact that it’s a Tuesday evening, deters these patrons – whatever’s inside must really be something. You pull your dress down your thighs, and walk carefully up onto the sidewalk. Deciding to try your luck with the bouncers, you bypass the line, trying not to look at anyone to your right. If you stand in line, you won’t be inside for hours.

Two men – identical twins – stand in front of the door.

“Can we help you?” One of them asks, sternly. You don’t take offense, they’re only doing their job.

“Um…” You blurt out your name, adding, “Oz asked me to come.”

One of the men speaks into a small mic attached to the lapel of his jacket, covering it with his hand. It’s only a moment before one of them opens the door and the music goes from muffled to booming, vibrating your bones. You mutter a quick thanks, and step inside, feeling like you’ve just cheated the system. The visual that meets you truly overwhelms you at first, and you hesitate.

It’s a staggeringly massive venue, filled with undulating bodies. The building itself is industrial in nature, all steel and flashing red lights. The dance floor stretches as far as your eyes can see, a literal sea of human beings, all grinding against each other, feeling the music in their veins. You stand, stunned at the start of the crowd, unsure of where to go.

After a moment, you lift your gaze and your eyes meet for the hundredth time that night. Oz stands on the second floor, on almost a catwalk above the crowds. He looks like he did at the restaurant, save for the leather jacket which was replaced by a white suit jacket; he’s wearing the same purple shirt and black slacks. Your shoulders relax, knowing that whatever happens next will be something you remember for the rest of your life.

He doesn’t make it a secret of how he’s checking you out, a devilish sneer on his face. He’s only ever seen you in your waitress outfit, which let it be known, is sexy enough on its own, but this plunging number that gives him a peek at your cleavage, and hugs your hips in ways he could only dream of… He deepens his grin and jerks his head to the side, urging you up. You follow his gaze and clock the staircase to your left. You make a beeline for it, holding the chain of your purse in a fist and climb the steel staircase carefully, until you get to the platform that Oz is standing on.

“Hi!” You shout over the pulsing music. You’re giddy, like a schoolgirl. It’s embarrassing, really.

“I gotta’ be honest, doll, I didn’t think I’d see you.” he confesses, leaning into your ear. His voice is rough, but enticing. He pulls back, gauging your reaction. You stare at him for a moment, saying nothing, prolonging the moment and torturing him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and your eyes flick down to watch. Something he does a lot, you notice.

“What?” you ask, leaning into him. “After what happened in the car?”

When you pull back to look at him, there’s a bemused smile on your face. Confident. Cocky. Like there was an unspoken contest of who would mention it first and you won. He shrugs lightly, huffing out a laugh. You reach for his cheek, palming it softly. Oz keeps his composure, even though inside, he wants to lean into it and whimper like a dog. He’s glad he doesn’t though.

“I’m the one who kissed you, remember? It’s not like you did anything to offend me, Oz.” you coo.

“I ‘spose not, huh?”

You nod, slowly, coyly.

“The chicken parm,” he says suddenly, shrugging with his hands. “It ain’t bad. But I guess you’ve figured out the real reason why I come there, huh?”

You laugh brightly, looking over the railing at the throngs of people below you, neon red lights washing over them in time with the music. You smile softly, feeling special. It’s not every day that you get private access to an elite club in Gotham City and get to schmooze with the owner.

“Come upstairs with me.” Feeling like your attention is drifting from him, Oz takes your hand, guiding you in the direction of yet another flight of stairs. Your eyes trail up the steps; they lead to a loft, glass windows on every side.

You’re stone cold sober, so you can’t blame the alcohol, but the second you’re in his office, above the crowds, above it all, you’re on him like a bear on honey. Your hands smear over his chest, fingers grazing through the hair that peeks out from his open shirt. He smells like cigars and an expensive cologne that you take lungfuls of.

“You're an eager girl, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah, Oz… I am.” You reply breathlessly, kissing a path along his bottom lip and chin.

“How long have you felt this way, huh?”

You finally pull back, and lick your lips, watching him intently. You knew he was a talker from the restaurant, always chatting. But right now, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. “Uhm…” Your chest heaves visibly, and Oz has to fight to keep his eyes on yours. “The first or second time you came into Bellini…”

“Ah, c’moooon!” he says, incredulously.

“No, I’m serious!” You laugh a little, moving your head to try and keep Oz’s gaze. He looks off behind you for a moment, and when he returns his attention to you, his expression is serious.

“Chicks like you don’t go after guys like me –”

You bristle and take his face in your hands. “Chicks like me? What do you know about chicks like me, Oz? You think you’ve got it all figured out, huh?”

He sidesteps that with another question. “What, you like older guys or somethin’?”

“They’re better…” You say in between tiny kisses. “They know better. They’re more experienced. Guys my age…” You pause to run a finger along his lip. “They don’t know how to take care of women.”

Oz smiles. It’s a dirty, devious smile, and it sends a pulse to your core. There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, and he brings his hand up to the curve of your shoulder. “You want me to take care of ya, baby? Is that what you’re sayin’?”

You nod. A little too enthusiastically, maybe.

“It’s a busy club, sweetheart.” He says, almost nonchalantly, as though his slacks aren’t tenting in between both of you.

But… he has a point. You hum quietly.

“Later, then? Give me a tour of the club and – “ Your voice trails off because Oz looks like he’s just gotten an idea. He smirks, and his hand grips your hip, pulling you close to his gut. “What?”

“How’s about you sit on it, huh?”

Your head turns, gaze heavily resting on the room across the way. You assume it’s for the dancers of the club. Whatever it is – it’s right there. You glance at it nervously, and your expression reads strong, apparently, because Oz chuckles next to you, and brings his hand to your jaw, forcing it back in his direction.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. It’s okay. They ain’t gonna’ know a thing.”

His hand drops from your jaw to your waist, where his thumb swipes circles over your dress. His hand sweeps around to the back, where your skin is exposed, and begins stroking patterns over the skin, igniting tiny fires wherever he touches. You lean forward, pressing your mouth against his again, hungry for his taste again. After a few minutes, Oz pulls away, ending the foreplay. He turns and ambles to the leather sofa angled in front of the window and you follow, taking slow, careful steps. One foot in front of the other.

Once he’s seated, you lift your dress just enough to grip the delicately stretchy lace of your panties on either side, and carefully pull them down the curve of your ass. Oz is watching, his brown eyes locked on the tantalizing visual in front of him. You discard them on the sofa cushion, not thinking about where they land. Oz watches though, and his large hand snakes out, fisting them and discreetly tucking them into the pocket of his slacks. If you asked, he would’ve told you that he didn’t want anyone fuckin’ seein’ ‘em. The reality was that his perversions were too loud, and he was going to take a token of this dream he was experiencing.

Oz reaches down, unlatching his slacks, and pulling the zip down just enough to reach in and pull his aching cock free. As you lower yourself, he lines it up, watching intently. You whimper his name, feeling the cockhead nudge your entrance.

“Easy, sweetheart, easy. That’s it, nice n’ slow.” He licks his lips.

At first, you nestle yourself down onto his thick cock gradually. The fat, leaking head pops in first, sending a shockwave through your core. Your breath hitches in your throat, and instead of sliding yourself down his shaft slowly, with a huff, you slam your ass down hard. You’re sitting all the way down on Oz’s wide lap, stuffing the rest of him in. He’s thicker than he is long, but god, it’s everything you thought it would be. He vocalizes, surprised at your determination. You still, letting your walls accommodate the girth of the man beneath you.

“Hoo, baby...”

The tiniest little movements have him clenching his jaw, hissing through his teeth. And then… with his hand casually holding onto your hip, Oz starts to rut his hips up into you. It’s just enough to rock your body up and down and move his cock inside you.

He grunts underneath you, his grasp tightening on the satin of your dress. He craves skin, and his hand slides into the space between your dress and your back. You can’t help but let out the tiniest of whimpers at the feeling of being so full – you don’t remember the last time you were stretched like that. Your dress pools, hanging heavy between your legs and concealing your leaking core.

Abruptly, the collective sound of high heels approaches, and your eyes snap up to the glass windows. A group of girls crowds the room parallel, and the second one of them spots you two, they’re heading your way. Oz stops moving.

“Alright… quiet, doll.” He slaps your hip a few times. It’s a warning, and one you immediately heed, straightening up, tucking your hips into a more natural sitting position. His cock twitches inside you, and you swallow back the noise that bubbles up your throat.

“Ozzy,” the girls coo in unison. One of them has a martini in her hand and asks who you are. God, they’re all so beautiful, you think. Insecurity threatens, but the stretching between your legs calms it.

Leaning to the side to meet their gaze, he tells them your name, proudly – the bastard – and you wave, sheepishly, trying not to allude to the fact that Oz’s girthy cock is buried inside you. Maybe they know. Maybe he’s done this before. You swallow hard, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“We was just havin’ a meeting. She’s thinkin’ of workin’ here.” A bold faced lie, but it distracts the women from looking too hard at the scene in front of them. They all titter excitedly, delighted by the prospect of having another friend to play with.

“Oz takes real good care of us,” one of them chimes in, earnestly. “You’d love it here.”

You clench around his cock as hard as you can, your internal muscles squeezing him in a vice. You smile as naturally as you can at the girls as Oz continues speaking casually. The man’s poker face must be insane because he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t give away a single thing.

“Alright, alright. Girls, what am I payin’ ya for, huh? Get down there.”

In a flurry of nods and apologies, the women disperse, heading back down to the throbbing club below them. The sound of their high heels clicking down the stairs fades away, replaced by the dull, muffled thrumming of the music below. As soon as you two are alone again, Oz bucks his hips up into you hard, almost painfully, pulling a low groan from your throat.

“Tell me how good that feels, sweetheart. Tell me.” The roughness of his voice, the harshness of his accent makes everything sound intense, but the desperation in which he asks that isn’t lost on you. He’s practically begging you to tell him, revealing a deep-rooted hunger for praise. You wet your throat, and lean your head back onto his shoulder, bringing your hand up around to the back of his wide neck; the flesh is warm and damp with sweat.

“It feels so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah…” You close your eyes, wincing slightly at the way his cock bullies you and stretches you open. “So good, Oz. I’ve thought about this… so many times.”

His hips rut up into you, finding a hungry, incessant rhythm and your slick walls clench around him. The action brings a choking grunt from his mouth, and your ego swells with the control. An idea blossoms. You straighten up; setting your hips and grinding them back and forth on his lap. Beneath you, Oz moans, his grip on you tightening. You feel his large body shudder, and a cocky smile curls its way around your lips.

“You like that, Oz? You like me fucking you like that?”

He nods, breathlessly, reaching up to palm the sweat that drips into his brow.

“Tell me,” you whisper, arching your body against his.

“I l-like the way you’re fuckin’ me. It feels real fuckin’ good… ” He grumbles, pleased. “Feelin’ that tight pussy uh yours… like heaven, doll.”

You whine at that, loving the way it sounds coming from his mouth. Your hips gyrate, continuing their ruthless pattern on his cock. His hand strays from your hip and juts between your legs, finding your cunt. His thick fingers slip between your folds, stroking you just enough to drive your orgasm closer to the edge. You whimper, tossing your head back.

Oz’s gaze drops from your back to your ass, watching as the flesh swells when you push back against him. God damn. It’s a perfect fuckin’ view, and he sucks in a deep breath. Every muscle in his body tightens, even if he ain’t ready for that.

“Aw, fuck–” he grunts, low. Deep in his stomach, his muscles clench, trying hard to stave off the oncoming orgasm. His eyes open, focusing on the ceiling, the sound of the music, anything except for the way you’re ridin’ him. It ain’t workin’, because he feels his whole body tense up. Fuck.

His hand goes slack between your legs and you grit your teeth, bringing your brows together in a pained expression. The dual stimulation was nice, but the way his cock massages your walls, stretching them out and filling you in a way that has you gasping is enough to drive you mad. You’re thankful that the music is so loud beneath you, because your desperate mewls and whines are getting higher and higher in pitch. Oz mutters something, something filthy about filling you and you drive your hips back against him. And with that, he loses it. He thrusts his hips up into you a few times, with a frenzied sort of desperation. You feel the heat painting your insides, coating your walls in his ecstasy. Underneath you, Oz’s thrusts have turned languid and lazy. He’s silently justifying the too-quick orgasm with the fact that he had to; anyone could’ve walked in at any time. It had nothing to do with the fact that he’s been like a slobbering dog for you for months.

Chest heaving, your hips continue rutting back and forth, and Oz shifts underneath you, still panting heavily. It’s tender, but he doesn’t complain. His thrusts continue to slow and you desperately reach between your legs, tapping his hand back to life. “D-don’t stop Oz, please… don’t stop…”

Behind you, Oz chuckles under his breath and straightens up, having sunk back into the sofa a little too far when he lost it. His thick index finger strokes your clit upwards, and a shiver rips through your body. The coil in your stomach winds tighter as you settle into the oncoming feeling. Still full of him, your slick walls shudder around his cock as the first wave hits. The coil snaps, your thighs clamp shut around his hand, and you look down, sighing loud as he continues flicking between your folds. One of your hands is situated on his thigh, and the other comes to grip his wrist, feeling the cuban link chain beneath your palm.

“That’s it, sweetheart… that’s it…” As you ride it out, bucking your hips against his groin, he coaxes you through your orgasm, both vocally and with the way he massages your clit, the pad of his index finger pressing into it. You can hear the pride in his voice, it’s absolutely dripping with it. “Atta’ girl. Feels fuckin’ good, don’t it?”

You try to speak, but nothing comes out. You furiously nod your head as your legs begin to tremble. He doesn’t stop, and your immediate reaction is to dig your nails into the flesh of his hand, silently begging.

“You good, doll?”

“Y-yeah. I’m… wow.”

Oz removes his hand from between your legs, and strokes the side of your thigh, gently. Tenderly. For a moment, you stay like that, just enjoying all of the post-coital sensations. Eventually, you get to your feet, curious about how the patrons downstairs are faring. Speaking of dripping… You swallow hard, and press your thighs together.

While still in front of Oz, you straighten yourself out, pulling your dress back down over your hips. Now, you’re suddenly aware of the throbbing beat beneath your feet and make your way over to the window.

“How about that tour?” You ask, running a nail along the glass that overlooks the dancefloor below you. After a few moments, you feel Oz’s presence behind you, his stomach pressing into the curve of your back.

“I thought you weren’t a clubbin’ girl…” he murmurs throatily, in between kisses to your neck. You tilt your head, allowing more space for him to smother.

“Well,” you confess, honesty tinging your voice. “I’m not. But it’s not every day you get invited to the most elite nightclub in Gotham City.” You shrug. “Might as well.”

#i am so hysterically down bad for this man.... he is terrible and i hate him for what he's done but i also wanna [redacted]#nobody fucking look at me #Oz Cobb x reader #Oswald Cobb x reader #The Penguin x reader #Oz Cobb #oswald cobblepot x reader #Oswald Cobb #Farrell Penguin #myfics #x reader #reader insert #female reader #fem reader #The Penguin HBO #The Penguin

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