#was not in the mood to draw a skirt

[okartichoke]

Milesune edgwku(Miles Edgeworth Miku)

キラキラ💖 Hatsune Mitsu(rugi)

POV: you are miles's mirror the morning before a convention

(btw, i don't know if this was your inspiration to suggest this, but i'd feel remiss to not mention chipothydipothy's drawing from a few days ago :])

edit: heheh i drew him again >:3

[soundcrusher]

Okay, these memes/sketches will only make kinda sense if you read my newest story, but they were just too good not to share.

Also, small bonus:

[loves2spwge]

GOOD BOY❣️ 🐶

💙commission by @mipilord / 🔞@omo_hm on twt💚

uncensored ver

[papercutsmp3]

got into a fight with my friend over the most hilarious reason ever but it's a rly bad one help

[delirious-donna]

tw: kento x female reader, breeding, kitchen sex (because when is that not hot?), kento speaking his mind (yeah it’s filthy 🫦)

Kento found you in the kitchen, guided to you by the sweet lilt of the tune you were absently humming. He loosened the knot of his tie and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, exposing the corded muscles in his forearms.

Everything was right with the world once he had returned to your warm presence. Nothing could sour his mood now that he was home, and he watched from the doorway as you prepared cookies for baking, leaning against the frame with arms crossed and his cock twitching to life.

It was amazing how the tiredness, that only moments ago had pressed against his eyes, lifted as he admired your figure. The summer dress that showed off the plush of your thighs and thin straps that would be far too easy to push down to reveal your beautiful breasts.

You really were perfect for him. Nanami knew you would be a wonderful mother, but that thought startled him as he had not thought himself ready for such responsibility—not yet.

… but maybe?

How could he deny the pleasure thrumming through his body when he thought of you round with his child? His cock strained painfully against his expensive tailored trousers and a sudden tightness forced his balls to draw up, ready and aching.

It only took three strides and he was behind you. You startled with a high-pitched yelp at his unexpectedly sudden presence, jumping in the heat of his body as he crowded you against the counter without uttering a single word. His strong capable hands made hasty work of pressing beneath your dress to find the waist of your underwear, tugging them down until they pooled around your bare feet on the floor.

“Kento!” you giggled, slapping playfully at his hands, but he was not to be dissuaded and you weren’t really putting up any resistance. There was an urgency that surrounded him—thick and consuming. The air seemed to ripple with tiny vibrations that had not been there moments earlier and you eased into the sensations like sinking into a perfectly hot bath.

His strong forearms flexed as he pawed and massaged your breasts through the thin material of your dress, pinching at your budding nipples until you were fervently grinding against his prominent erection.

You barely had time to draw breath as the sound of his belt being unbuckled was followed by the drag of metal teeth being eased apart. Kento’s cologne enveloped your senses, the familiar warm notes tickling your nose and had you reaching back a hand to thread your fingers through his perfectly parted hair. Your toes curl against the tiled floor, expectation bubbling low and hot in your belly.

“I’m a lucky man,” he murmured into the soft curve of your neck. His lips left wet spots in a pattern only known to him, sucking marks that he would later finger and examine with that faint little smile that never failed to make your heart stutter in your chest.

“Then I’m a lucky woman,” you countered, ending on a gasp when the straps of your dress eased off your shoulders and fell to your elbows.

Kento hummed. His brain couldn’t stop conjuring the image of you growing with his seed, of the glow that would accompany such a venture and the flutter of kicks he would feel when laying his palms over your stomach. You stilled; the gears in your head whirring when he touched your belly and his hips rutted forward to saw the thick impression of his cock through the cleft of your backside.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart. That’s it… good girl.”

The skirt of your dress lifted to reveal your bare behind, forcing you to brace a hand atop the counter and you twisted your head to watch as he pulled the weight of his cock free from his underwear, purple and leaking fat pearls of precum. Your mouth watered, jaw falling slack when his fingers trailed the length of your slit, thumb rubbing gentle circles atop your throbbing clit. Kento pumped his impressive length, once twice, but he was more than ready to be accepted by your body.

The height difference made it a little awkward but Kento was a man on a mission, widening his stance and bending his knees until he notched at the flexing entrance of your cunt and pushed in on a grunt of exaltation. A shudder rippled down his spine, his teeth set whilst he fought the primal urge to let go immediately. He was wound nearly to breaking point with the need to pump his load into you and keep it there, but the fraying strands of his manners persisted.

Your toes barely touched the floor as he forced you to bend against the counter, your face right next to the sheet of cookies you had been ready to bake. The stretch of his girth made you hiss and writhe like a snake but he held you firm until he could bottom out and soothe the burning need you both felt.

Kento was still, his chest heaved as he fought down the urge to pound you stupid until your cunt was drooling on the floor and saliva pooled from your mouth.

“I think it’s about time I bred this sweet little pussy. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Kento!”

He threw back his head; the rhythmic clench of your velvet walls betraying the shock of your voice. He smiled into your hair, kneading the fat of your breasts with rough hands and pistoned his hips harder and faster.

“Mm, I thought so. Let’s see how many loads you can take tonight. Then we can start all over again in the morning…”

[mrsbarnesblog]

I always get what I want

masterlist

requests are open

summary: when you're not in the mood to go out of the house, you find a way to change Rafe's mind

words count: 1.8k

warnings: smut, established relationship, unprotected p in v, one use of a word 'slut', spanking, hair pulling, slightly mean Rafe

a/n: for anyone wondering how the said dress looks like

“I’m not in the mood to go out today, Ray. Why can’t we just stay home, hm?” You yawned, stretching your body on the king-sized bed and then turning around to look at your boyfriend. 

“It’s just a dinner and everyone is going to be there. I already promised that we’re attending, baby.” He crossed his arms over his chest, immediately drawing your attention to his tanned biceps and the way his fitted shirt stretched around them. “C’mon, get up.”

“But you didn’t even ask me about—No-o-o!” You whined when Rafe’s hands wrapped around your legs, dragging you out of bed. As he playfully patted your ass and manhandled you into standing, you gave him a furious glare. “Fine, asshole. I will get dressed.” You pushed past your boyfriend, already knowing one trick that will send him over the edge and that will guarantee you a quiet and peaceful evening. 

“Mhm, find something cute, but don’t take too long, ‘kay?” You rolled your eyes, going into the wardrobe attached to your bedroom.

You had never dressed quicker, and when after a few minutes Rafe heard you going back into the room with your heels clicking on the wooden floor, he was ready to joke about it, until he looked up from his phone and saw what exactly you were wearing. 

It was probably the shortest black lace dress in existence, which barely even covered your ass cheeks and had a slid from both sides of your legs as if there were something more to show. Rafe’s eyes slowly went up, only a few seconds later noticing that besides the “dress” itself, you wore only thongs, which meant that your tits were basically on full display.  

You bought it just for fun, for a few dollars during one of your shopping sprees, hoping to surprise Rafe with it, but it turned out even better than you imagined. He was speechless, to say the least. 

“You are not fucking wearing it.” He jumped up from the bed, looking down at you with wide eyes. You tried to hold back a smile. Rafe was so predictable and you loved every second of it. 

“Why not? It’s cute and goes perfectly with my heels. Give me like fifteen minutes to do my makeup and we can go.” You turned around but Rafe quickly caught you by the wrist and pulled you back to face him.

"You know I like your short skirts and sexy dresses, but I will not let you go out looking like that. Your whole ass is out and I can literally see your tits.” Rafe looked you up and down again; his eyes were full of hunger mixed with his usual grumpiness whenever you didn’t listen to him. 

“Stop saying what I can and cannot wear, Rafey. I always get what I want. And I hate when you think that you can boss me around. I am wearing it, whether you like it or not. You asked me to go somewhere at the last minute, and this is the only outfit I have not worn yet, so don’t complain." Giving his cheek a soft pat, you headed to your vanity, but was again dragged back, but this time it was different.

Your back hit Rafe’s chest. One of his arms found its place on your stomach and the other one took a gentle yet firm hold of your throat. Your breath hitched when you felt a growing bulge pressing against your ass, and Rafe began pushing you toward the bed. 

“Always have to be so fucking stubborn.” He mumbled as he bent you over, shamelessly pushing your face into the soft blanket, making you stay in a not-so-comfortable position with your ass up and still in your heels. 

“My heels. Take it off.” You whined, not even trying to fight your boyfriend back. 

“If you decided to play on my nerves today, then you’ll be good just like that, babe.” Rafe suddenly slapped your ass, making you hiss and twitch forward. Because of your position, the hem of your dress slipped even higher, leaving nothing for the imagination. 

Rafe licked his lips, soothing the irritated skin of your ass and enjoying the beautiful view in front of him. With the dinner long forgotten, he was completely focused on you and painfully hard in his jeans. While his left hand still stayed on your lower back to keep you in place, he pushed your legs wider away from each other and took off a skimpy piece of fabric that you called underwear. 

You moaned as the chill air of the room touched your bare skin, subconsciously moving your hips back to feel Rafe’s touch. He chuckled as he quickly undid his pants and shoved them down his thighs, revealing his already hard cock. 

“Why can’t you just listen to me, hm? You are insane to even try to go out in that pathetic excuse of a dress." Rafe mumbled, more as if he were talking to himself, too focused on looking at the way his tip was sliding up and down your pussy, already glistering with your juices. “Don’t get me wrong, you definitely can wear it around the house; I won’t mind. But just for my eyes only.” 

As much as you tried to concentrate on Rafe’s words, it was hard to do so when he slowly sank into you, making you whine and grip the fabric under your hands. He rarely did it without giving you a proper preparation with his fingers or mouth, but it was his way of showing you that he wasn’t happy with your behaviour. Rafe gave your ass another slap, before reaching his hand to gently grab your hair and yank your head back. 

“Pay attention to what I'm saying, baby.” You were stretched to the limit, still sensitive to the size of him every time you two had sex. Rafe set a steady pace, fucking you like he did whenever he was pissed off—fast, deep and rough. “You’re mine to look at. So, you better save that little thing for when I get home from work, do you understand?"  

Your eyes rolled back in your head as whimpers slipped past your lips with every push of Rafe’s cock in your tight cunt. He gripped the hair in his hand a little tighter, still waiting for an answer from you and you had no choice but to try to nod and mumble something incoherent. 

When two fingers of Rafe’s free hand suddenly pressed on your clit and started moving in a circular motion, your hips jerked forward, squeezing him inside of you even harder. If Rafe knew one thing for sure, it was how your body worked and all the little tricks that made you see stars. He held you firmly in place, feeding his cock to your hungry pussy and not caring about you trying to get away from the overstimulation. 

“Don’t fuckin’ move or I’ll edge you till you cry. Don’t want to do that again, do you?” Rafe mumbled, effortlessly sliding his cock deeper into you, noticing the way your ass was jiggling with every deep thrust. He felt your wetness spreading on his fingers and sliding down your thighs, probably making a mess on his clothes too. 

“That’s too much— Rafe, Rafe, Ra-afe!” You cried out loud as he pushed your head backwards more to have a look at your face. That famous smirk appeared at the sight of your fucked out face with tears in your eyes and swollen lips. 

“If you want to dress like a slut, you’re gonna be treated like one.” He spat, then finally released your hair, instead pushing your head into the bed. 

It felt like Rafe’s cock was now even deeper, and the pace that he was using was too hard to handle. You whined his name, fisting the blanket and crying in ecstasy at his magical work with your pussy. 

“That’s right.” His praise came with a hard slap on your ass. “Same my name when you cum on my dick.” 

“Rafe! Oh god, Rafe! D-don’t stop!” He didn’t stop abusing your hole even when you reached your orgasm. Neither when your body literally started shaking from overstimulation and you were begging to let you go. 

It didn’t take him long to get to an end, suddenly pulling out of you and spilling his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. “Fuck, yeah! Lookin’ so pretty covered in me.” Rafe chuckled, gripping your ass cheeks and shamelessly looking as his release was sliding down to your flattering pussy. “Sorry, sweetheart. I guess I stained your dress and panties too.” He made a fake pout, moving away from you to admire his work from afar. 

“Asshole.” You grumbled, fully falling on your bed and hissing at the pain in your legs. Your eyes were closed, enjoying the tingles that still went through your body when you felt Rafe wiping a mess from your skin and then kneeling on the floor to take off your shoes. 

You looked at him when you felt bed moving under his weight. Rafe drew you closer with a smirk, resting your head on his naked chest. You smirked at him, and he raised an eyebrow at the strange sparkle in your eyes. 

“Whatcha smiling for, hm?” His hand sneaked down your back, reaching the irritated skin that he slapped multiple times, and gently rubbed to soothe the redness. 

“I always do and get what I want, Ray.” You giggled, tracing lines on his abs. 

“Well, not today, apparently.”

"Oh, baby, you are so naive to believe I was planning to attend the dinner in the first place." You bit your lip, holding back a smile at the confused look on your boyfriend’s face. “All I had to do was make you think with your dick and now we’re staying at home. Just like I wanted to.”

He shook his head in disbelief, with a smirk and tongue poking his cheek. “You’re such a brat.” A squeak escaped from you when your body suddenly changed positions and was pushed back on the bed as Rafe hovered over you. “Get ready for round two since you wanted to be so goddamn smart.” 

[vanillamatchadove]

i feel frustrated with my art. :/

[mariasont]

Parent-Teacher Conference - A.H

a/n: inspired by the show the nanny! major lover of mr sheffield and fran fine

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

summary: you are not happy with jack's teacher flirting with your boss

warnings: hotch staring at your ass!, jealous reader, flirty reader, would prob def get a complaint against her in the real world, but alas!

wc: 0.8k

I'm terribly sorry, but my cat died before I got here.

I actually was in a car wreck on the way. I know I look fine, but it was super traumatic.

Mr. Hotchner you look so good today! Me? Late! Never.

These were the series of apologies and excuses that you were rehearsing in your mind as you navigated your way through the school hallway. In your defense, your tardiness to the parent-teacher conference wasn't without reason. Jack's newfound rebellious phase had him ruining your pantyhose with deliberate runs. He found it hilarious. You found it anything but.

You mentally prepared for that all-too-familiar, intimidating glare from Mr. Hotchner, the kind that could make you feel like you were plummeting from a cliff. Not only were you running late, but you also anticipated a less-than-glowing report from Ms. Thompson about Jack's recent antics. And in the back of your mind, a nagging voice whispered that Mr. Hotchner would somehow find a way to blame you.

"Oh, Aaron, you're something else!" 

You stopped dead in your tracks, gaze locked on the scene unfolding before you. Ms. Thompson's voice took on a higher pitch, full of animation, her elbows subtly drawing her tits together, leaning into Mr. Hotchner's space with an ease that bordered on disrespectful. At least in your eyes.

Aaron? The casual use of Mr. Hotchner's first name sent your mood from sour to downright acrid. You strode into the classroom, inching your skirt higher and affixing a practiced, beaming smile to your face. It was all charm and no sincerity.

"So sorry I was late," you began, allowing a gentle sway in your step as you glided into the room, your heels clicking a measured tempo against the linoleum floor. You mustered all your willpower to not shoot daggers at the blonde headed teacher. "I didn't miss anything did I?"

As you stepped into view, both Ms. Thompson and Mr. Hotchner turned their eyes to you. Ms. Thompson's showed a flicker of surprise, while Mr. Hotchner's were like slits, scrutinizing. But even his discipline gaze dipped, albeit briefly, to the curve where your skirt ended. 

"Oh, I... I didn't realize you were married, Mr. Hotchner," she mumbled, her hands fumbling gracelessly with the papers on the desk, her lips pinched in a straight line.

You could nearly hear the thoughts churning in Mr. Hotchner's head as his lips parted to correct her. Hastily, you cut in, "An innocent mistake, I'm sure."

He raised an eyebrow, a wordless question hanging in the air. Ignoring it, you flashed a saccharine smile and took the seat by his side, linking your arm with his. His muscles tensed, a reaction that almost coaxed a giggle from you.

It was all too easy to get a rise out of him.

"My wife, the epitome of timeliness,"Mr. Hotchner states dryly, his grip of your arm tightening just a tad more than called for. 

To your astonishment, the remainder of the conference proceeded seamlessly from that point on. Ms. Thompson restrained herself, both in wardrobe and word, and unexpectedly showered Jack with praise.

Exiting the classroom alongside Mr. Hotchner, you noticed he paused just long enough to ensure Ms. Thompson was out of ear shot. That's when you felt the squeeze of his hand on your side, coming to rest on the curve of your lower back, the pressure didn't move even as you found yourselves alone in the hallway--and you were far from objecting.

"Really?"

Your shoulders rose and fell in a pretense of innocence, well aware that his perceptive eyes weren't fooled. You tilted into his shoulder, doing a mental victory dance when he made no move to distance himself.

"What?" you asked, clutching your purse tighter against your side as you paced forward. "I was just helping you out. She looked like she was about to jump your bones at any second."

Mr. Hotchner's face was unamused, per usual. "Your generosity knows no bounds."

"Right?" You were aware of his sarcasm, but that didn't deter you. Your shoulders bumped together as you made it to the exit. "Consider yourself lucky."

An eye roll was his immediate response, but you could almost sense the smile he was staunchly holding back. He would never admit it.

"Yes, how could I ever manage without you?"

He paused to open the door for you, following behind as you stepped outside. You squinted against the sun's harsh kiss before giving him a teasing wink over your shoulder. He looked really good in the sunlight. He could use more of it.

"You wouldn't."

You caught his eyes lingering not on your face, but lower--fixated on your skirt, more specifically your ass. You raised your brows in question. 

"I think you sat in something."

You let out a startled gasp, hands flying to the material of your skirt. It was your favorite. "What? Where?"

His hands found their way to your waist, gently pivoting you for a better view, while your eyes settled on the stretch of road before you. "Oh, nope, my mistake. Looking good."

Your laughter spilled out uncontrollably, realizing just what he was doing. Cheeky man. And completely out of character, but you liked it. "Mr. Hotchner!"

 "I take my role as husband very seriously."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[hungharrington]

Steve realizing his gf is stressed and forcing her to take a mid day break and she's just like babe I'm not in the mood and he's like ok let's take a break for 5 min a mere 5 min like u can def afford that and she's like fine and she sets a timer but by the time the 5 min r up Steve is already eating her out and he's like the timer is up and she's so into in and forgotten that she's like the what?? And Steve just chuckles smugly and goes back down

bro.... did u send this cos u know i've been stressed with grad school??? either way YUM i ate it tf up this was delicious thank you for gracing my inbox with it <3 fem!reader, 1.2k, MDNI this entire blog is 18+

As Steve sets his watch, your thoughts drift to the assignment sitting on your desk, due by the end of the week.

You really shouldn't be taking a break — you're not sure you can actually afford to. Well, your stress certainly makes it feel that way.

But Steve had badgered you lovingly with his wandering hands around your waist, fingers skirting beneath your shirt, and his hot kiss mouthing softly against your neck.

You probably shouldn't be taking a break but also, you're only human. Steve knows just how to press your buttons.

"I've set the timer," Steve murmurs, his voice somewhere behind you on the bed. His big hands smooth up your calves, pressing in his adoring intent. You can't see the heavy-lidded gaze he has, betraying a different intent. "Five minutes, okay?

"Okay," You agree tiredly, voice muffled into the pillow of your bed. "Work your magic, babe."

You're laying on your front, face pressed into pillow, your arms caged around your head. You're well and truly enjoying a moment to rest your eyes and you're betting it'll only get better when Steve starts his massage.

I mean, that's what you expect he meant when he begged you to let him 'help you relax' for five minutes.

Steve makes a little amused noise from behind you, fully intending on working a certain kind of magic.

His hands continue their slow peruse, his fingers spread wide and exploring the expanse of your thighs as they continue to slide up. He presses and soothes the muscles, getting you more relaxed with each touch. You huff a little sigh into the pillow, eyes sliding closed, and your body grows more pliant.

His hands keep moving up, up, up, until the fabric of your skirt is getting bunched up beneath them. Something nervous rises in your chest at the sudden new display of skin. Still, you don't move, almost eager to see what he does next.

Your face is still hidden away in the pillow when his hands begin to knead the skin where your thigh meets your ass. A soft, pleased noise wiggles loose in your chest.

Then—a ghost of a touch pulls a sudden small gasp from your lungs. A finger drags down the centre of your panties, just the slightest pressure.

"Yeah?" Steve probes gently, his voice low and raspy. The weight of his finger remains but he doesn't move it, waiting for your answer.

You're in two minds about it for only a split-second before your hair scrunches up as you nod your head against the pillow. The finger moves again, drawing down to trace over your clit lightly. Your face simmers with heat, even if you've done much nastier things with Steve before.

"Good girl," Steve praises. "Letting herself relax,"

His words sink into you, sweet as honey and warm as a sunbeam. Something twists low in your stomach and you have to resist the urge to readjust your thighs. If your face was simmering before, it's burning now.

Steve's hands move with a precision of well-known love. He knows what you like and he knows exactly how to get you riled up.

"Been working so hard, baby," He murmurs. "Know you have."

He continues his absentminded massage, hands rubbing and kneading the flesh of your ass. One finger always remains pressed against your core, petting against your slowly dampening panties in a way that makes you want to quiver. You bury your stuttering breaths into the pillow beneath you.

"Y'stop taking care of yourself, don't you?" You can barely focus on the questions as they drift out of Steve's mouth. Your eyes are closed again but this time in that growing lull of pleasure that's building up within you. "That's why I'm here though, isn't it? To help my girl relax,"

The damp spot on your panties grows under Steve's masterful strokes and soon, it's wet and sticky. You can't help but wonder if they're translucent but now—fuck, what pair are you even wearing? The thought melts away as Steve's skillful thumb finds your clit and draws a perfect circle around it, teasing you in just the way you like.

"Feelin' more relaxed?" Steve asks. You can't tell if you're imagining the smug tone in his voice but either way, he's a bastard for touching your clit and asking you a question at the same time.

You open your mouth to give an answer and let out a pitiful moan instead.

Glorious heat flames your face but you can't help how it fuels your mounting lust. He's driving you insane with these little touches.

"Good girl," Steve coos, as if your moan is the perfect answer to his question. You make another pathetic noise in response, feeling your hips rock back, desperate for a little more friction.

A disappointed whine creeps out when the touch is suddenly gone and Steve chuckles at the sound of it. "Won't be long, honey. Can you prop these up for me please?"

His hands have shifted, spread across to hold your hips lightly. You kick your legs up without question, enough to move them up, elevating your hips off the bed just barely.

Steve still gives you as praising noise, running his hands down your ass reverently. "That's it, baby. Doin' so good for me, aren't you?"

You're beyond words at this point so you answer him with another pitiful whimper. It's heaven to Steve's ears.

You hear the comforter on the bed rustle as Steve readjusts behind you and get all of a few seconds to wonder what before the heat of his breath ghosts along your inner thigh. Your tummy twists up in anticipation and you clench without thinking.

Steve chuckles again, his hands landing delicately on your either side of your hips once more.

He moves to grip a cheek in each hand and a lust-tinged embarrassment burns your face as he spreads you, your sopping cunt on display, shielded only by your soaked panties. A soft groan of appreciation pulls from his throat without permission.

"God, look at you," He murmurs.

One of his thumbs dips in, pressing beneath the elastic of your panties and moving to pull them to the side. A string of slick sticks to them and Steve groans again as he watching, this time louder. "Fuck, baby, you're soaked. Look at you, practically cryin' for it, aren't you?"

You whimper into the pillow, breath held as you wait in agony for Steve to do anything.

Faintly behind you, there's a small beep of a watch. Steve makes a disgruntled noise and shuffles for a moment, til the beeping stops.

"Five minutes, honey." He says, that almost smug tone to his words once more.

The words reach your ears but mean almost nothing to you. You have to resist the urge to arch your back and whine for him to keep going. But Steve won't have said that for nothing.

"W-What?" You manage to say, the word muffled into the pillow.

"Never mind, baby," He says, words dripping in a smugness that only drives up your body temperature. Your nipples peak in response and you feel your cunt aching for some touch. Steve obliges almost instantly, his thumb tracing down your folds. "Don’t worry bout it. You just sit there and take it like a good girl."

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: NSFW, derogatory dirty talk, spanking, angsty but with a fluffy ending

♡ fem reader

You hadn’t fucked in a while. 

Katsuki would come home late – where being an intern only landed him with shit patrols and shit hours and shit pay – leaving him in a foul mood almost constantly.

You'd put on your most supportive charm and try your best to cater to his needs – being the designated one going grocery shopping and the one to do the laundry as well as clean the house, take the trash out, and make the bed – making sure he’s got nothing to worry about when he comes home. 

You don’t really care if it doesn’t align with the rules of feminism – you doll yourself up for him and wear only nice things – making dinner the way you know he likes, with extra spice – asking him about his day.

Being the best, most perfect housewife you could be.

But like always... he's tired and replies only in grunts with a sour scowl on his face – doing his routines seemingly on autopilot – eating, showering, going to bed – leaving you alone in the dark with the dishes.

You sighed, boxing up the leftovers before packing him a lunchbox for work. Tying a handkerchief around it to make sure it wouldn’t accidentally spill in his bag, also so he had something to wipe his mouth with after finishing – and as you centered the corners, knotting them together into a neat little flower, you couldn’t help how your hands began to shake followed shortly but tears slipping down your cheeks.

You slid down the kitchen counter into a thud on the floor, pressing your sleeve over your mouth to try and muffle the small cries that soon spilled over. You don’t want to wake him up. You don’t want him to see you like this. He works too hard; he shouldn’t be bothered by his girlfriend breaking down over nothing.

You just miss him – you miss him so much your whole body aches – even though he’s right there in the next room. You clenched a fist over your heart, feeling it strangle itself inside your ribcage – making your throat seize up, dry where you choked down sobs. 

You thought today would be the day. You’d gotten yourself extra ready. Wearing the dress he likes, even the lingerie he likes – not that he’d be able to tell without undressing you first.

You banged your head softly against the cupboards behind you, eyes closed as you calmed down your weeping. Still, you kept your sleeve pressed against your mouth, scared to let even your snivels reach him.

The hand covering your heart dropped into your lap. 

You let out a sigh, then thought about his big hands – imagining them – strong and sturdy and warm on your skin – roaming your body in greedy touches. How he manhandles you with his lips pressed against your ear – speaking filth in that awfully low teasing rust of his.

Your hand slipped between your thighs – under your skirt and beneath your panties – with two slim fingers sliding between your lips to gather the needy slick that had pooled there before bringing it up to rub your pearl.

You bit your sleeve, wanting to moan but needing to stay quiet. You can’t let him find you like this. You can’t wake him up over something so unimportant, not to mention embarrassing.

You’re so pathetic. It stung your heart, but still, you kept your fingers working – drawing wet circles into your clit that had become a hard bud under the attention it had been seeking for so long. 

You don’t often touch yourself. You just leave it to Katsuki. Your hands are so different it’s nearly impossible to even imagine it’s him – and besides, he does it differently – a specific way you struggle to replicate. Suppose he's gotten to know your body a little better than you over the years.

Still, you get there. Albeit a numb and rather boring high, you still shook as it took you. Though, it didn’t come close to how Katsuki makes you feel.

You just end up feeling ashamed…

Crying and cumming on the kitchen floor while your boyfriend’s in the other room fast asleep after a hard day's work. 

You freed your mouth from your sleeve and pulled your other hand out from inside your panties, laying them both in your lap as you mulled it all over. It’s cold and silent and dark, and you wish you’d just rushed along and gone to bed with Katsuki when he’d muttered his goodnight.

You banged your head once again, then picked yourself up from the floor a moment later, releasing a sigh that turned into a yawn while dragging your feet quietly across the floor. You put the lunchbox in his bag before walking yourself to the bathroom. There, you splashed cold water on your face, looking your reflection dead in the eyes. You’d made yourself so pretty today, but he hadn’t touched you at all… he’d barely even looked at you…

You almost cried again but managed to suppress it – washing your face free of mascara and lipstick, then brushing your teeth. You slipped out of your dress and fished one of his worn shirts from the laundry bin. It smelled sweetly musky, like him – fitting you like a tent, reaching longer down your thighs than most of your skirts. It felt nice. You could almost trick yourself into thinking it was him who’d made you cum earlier and not yourself – and that delusion itself was enough to make your chest flutter with warmth. 

You snuck into the bedroom and quietly shut the door with a soft click before sneaking under the covers on your side of the bed. He was already asleep. Deep breaths left him steadily while you studied his back in the dim light. He was tense. Maybe you could give him a backrub tomorrow – and maybe he’d fuck you in return?

One can dream…

The thought put a small smile on your face as you soon followed in sleep yourself.

.

He took out the lunchbox you’d made for him, wrapped in a silly handkerchief with a Pomeranian print. His lip quirked up for just a second. You’re such a dumbass. 

He and Eijirou had picked a tall place like usual – atop an office building with their legs dangling over the edge. It had become standard procedure.

They didn’t like being bothered during lunch – it prevented them from talking about the things they wanted to talk about, if and when they wanted to talk, and otherwise roped them into meaningless small talk they had no interest in. Eijirou could fake it when he had to, but Katsuki didn’t ever feel as inclined. So it was best for both of them to find someplace exclusive.

Which, more often than not, ended up with them atop a rooftop somewhere along their route.

Katsuki popped the lid and found your note. 

Burn it up, Boo!

You’re such a geek. You’re so silly it made him blush sitting there. 

Fuck... he misses you...

His nose stung a bit just thinking about it, but he stifled it with a sharp sniffle before it could get any worse.

Unclenching his teeth with a huff, he picked up his food before chomping down on it. How long had it been since he’d held you? Must be since he started his internship, which is what? A month ago already?

He couldn’t wait to run his own agency. He’d own a building just like the one they're sitting on right now – maybe even taller. You could work there as well – you already act as his personal assistant, after all – or maybe that’s just what a girlfriend does. Either way, if you would work with him, he wouldn’t need to miss you so fucking much all the fucking time.

“Mina told me to tell you something- but you need to promise you won’t tell your girl that my girl ratted. Okay?” Kirishima broke through his daydreams. He was holding a sandwich from the cafeteria. Looks like Mina didn’t pack him lunch, Katsuki thought with a small smug smirk. Poor loser. 

“What are you blabbing on about now, Shitty-hair?” He asked, taking another bite from his homemade lunch with pride. It couldn’t really get any better than you. Surviving the last few months of his internship wouldn’t be too exhausting with you as his cheerleader.

“Mina told me-” Eijirou started anew but broke himself off before finishing. “Ah fuck it– doesn’t matter. Just listen.” 

 “I am. Spit it out already.” Katsuki said, unfazed. Not much could annoy him when he was busy thinking about you.

Eijirou hesitated for a moment longer, unsure how he should phrase it. But if memory served him right, blunt honesty had always been rewarded with the impatient ash-blonde – so he decided to be straightforward with it. “Your girl’s gonna leave you if you don’t dick her down soon.” 

That got his attention.

“The fuck?” Katsuki barked, whipping his head to the side to glare at him – unchewed food still in his mouth, making his words come out muffled.

He had his mask lifted like a headband, pushing his hair out of the way and allowing Eijirou to see every angry furrow creasing his face.

“Don’t shoot the messenger-” He excused, arms raised with his half-eaten sandwich in his hand. “I’m just tryna help you out.”

Katsuki’s grimace didn’t ease up.

It looked like he was going to say something, but instead, there came a long pause of them just staring intensely at each other.

It was normal. Katsuki had become better at processing things quietly without the need to fling curse words. But still, the frown didn’t lift – only deepened.

“Tch-” He scoffed after a while – looking down at his lunchbox again – fingering the happy Pomeranian handkerchief quietly before muttering, now calmly. “Fuck does Pinkie know…”

Eijirou put his hands down again, turning to look at the city below them, taking another bite of his sandwich – speaking with it in his mouth. “Uhm- she says it’s been a while since the two of you fucked- and that your girl’s trying her best to keep you happy- mh- but that she’s at her wit’s end ‘cause you won’t talk or touch her-”

Katsuki’s frown softened a bit, eyes scanning your handwritten note again. It’s such a small thing, but without it, the day would have still been grey and sour. It was just a piece of paper, but it had felt like a warm kiss on the cheek and turned his mood from annoyed to giddy so seamlessly.

Losing you might just kill him, he thought.

A weak “Fuck-” left him then, along with a sigh. The feeling of dread ripping his chest was nearly enough to make him cry, but he clenched his fists and grit his teeth, and the sting in his eyes relented almost as quickly as it had come.

“That’s girls for you, man...” Eijirou continued. “Talking out their frustrations over coffee and cakes instead of throwing fits.” He laughed, turning his head to look at his unusually still and silent friend. Grinning at the sight of the cute pout that had taken shape on his face. “We could learn a thing or two.” He nudged suggestively.

Katsuki threw him a glance, spotting his shark teeth pulled into a friendly smile. He sighed again, this time with a bit of a bothered groan, knowing that was Eijirou’s way of telling him to open up.

“Not much to complain about…” Katsuki mumbled in an effort to brush the subject off. But the feeling of Eijirou’s round red eyes staring at him intently in wait – goading him into telling more – didn’t relent.

Katsuki wanted to ignore him, but at the same time, there was something inside him that told him he shouldn’t waste the opportunity. In the end, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to share. After all, Eijirou had been beside him for over a decade already, and they weren’t planning on ending their camaraderie any time soon. 

He smacked his teeth as though surrendering, offering yet another groan of annoyance. “If she wants me to fuck her, she should just fucking say so-” He spilled. “What am I supposed to do? Read her mind?”

Eijirou laughed again, shaking his head. “Nah, man- this is a proper lady we’re talking about. She’s not gonna be so brazen. She wants her ~man~ to make those demands.” He explained, keeping his smile before quirking his brow at the blonde. “Speaking of… why haven't you?”

Katsuki threw him another glance, but he couldn’t feel more awkward sharing such things, even after such long years of friendship. 

Not that Eijirou cared if he was a little rigid. Actually, he found it amusing. Katsuki just needs a little time, but sooner or later, he always cracks. It’s just lucky that Eijirou has the endurance for it.

“I haven't been ‘cause-” Katsuki started, visibly struggling. “I don’t wanna be too-” He stopped again.

“What?” Eijirou pushed, slanting his head.

The blonde threw his head back with yet another groan. “She’s all up and down the house doing chores- I didn’t wanna be a selfish prick asking her to put out as well.”

“Wow, man…” Eijirou chuckled, smacking his hand down on the explosion hero's slumped shoulder. “That’s so manly.” He praised.

But it didn’t take long before his smile turned a little sharper – now with not-so-altruistic intent.

“But uhm…” He snickered. “If not your girl... what have you been doing?”

“None of your fuckin’ business,” Katsuki snapped back with a growl, shaking the makeshift redhead’s hand off his shoulder – his scowl returning to its original glory.

“Oh, come on, man- give us a little something to laugh about~” Ejirou drawled, still with his playful smirk – eagerly waiting.

Katsuki brooded for a moment longer.

But then finally gave in. “The shower… sometimes the car…”

Eijirou laughed, now loudly – boisterously and long enough to make the blonde punch his shoulder. But the assault wasn’t even registered by the sturdy hero, who continued laughing until he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “That’s not manly.” He said, still with amusement in his voice. “That’s just sad, man.”

“Shut up,” Katsuki grumbled in return, refocusing on his lunch as the other male continued giggling.

“To think you’ve been holding back while your girl’s been pining for it.” Eijirou rubbed salt in the wound, adding insult to injury, before stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. “Mh- that’s why communication is key.” 

Katsuki also took his last bite before repeating his last words. “Shut up, Shitty-hair...”

.

He came home to the smell of cooking and the hefty sound of the kitchen fan. The door swung closed with a loud bang, and you soon walked around the corner – spatula in hand with your apron on.

“You’re home early!” You exclaimed, a smile spreading on your face while rushing over to him. Lifting your heels on your toes to plant a quick kiss on his chin. “Oh-” You gasped, surprised when he enveloped you in a hug instead.

Stunned still for a moment, but then you smiled.

“Welcome home~”

He sighed into you, big hands pressed at the small of your back, swaying you snugly against him – the spatula in your hand smushed between you.

You smelled like sweets, and he smelled of smoke, and you both closed your eyes at the familiar but almost forgotten scent – bodies relaxing, realizing how much they’d missed the other's touch.

He held you there for a while, nuzzling his face into your neck with a low rumble – almost like the purr of a cat – before letting you down slowly.

“Is everything alright?” You asked, looking up at him.

He kept his hands at your sides for a moment longer, his usual unreadable expression donning his face. “Not really.” He revealed, then pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Talk about it later, I’m starving.”

You wanted to ask but didn’t want to pry – trusting him that you’d talk about it later.

He set the table while you finished cooking, and you thought it a very nice change of pace – smiling with a giggle when he pulled out your chair for you. He was acting strange, but still, you wouldn’t complain.

Dinner went quietly. You kept waiting for him to talk, to tell you what it was that was bothering him, but he never did. You were both done not before long, and you got up to start collecting dishes.

He got up as well. Walking around the table, he stood behind you as he grabbed your wrist softly. “Leave it.” He said – his voice gentle, just above a whisper. 

“Katsuki?” You asked, before feeling it – gasping out a surprised “Oh-”

His hand rubbed the silk on your hip, messaging your skin through your dress as he pulled you back against his crotch, where you felt him – fat in his slacks – and nudging into the soft welcome of your butt.

Your chest fluttered with a giddy thrill, flustered and hot already.

“Right now?” You asked in a flushed rush. Bowed with both palms laid flat on the table – cheeks burning and eyes wide. 

“Yes.” He replied simply – voice still gentle but sturdy – perhaps a touch strained.

“Here?” You gushed, swallowing your spit.

“Yes.” He repeated, his lips hot on your throat, with kisses and licks and heavy huffs – his chest stiff and weighty with brawn, beating against your back where he haunched over you.

Your breath warbled, rendering your voice to just an unsteady whisper. “Oh- okay-”

He hoisted the skirt of your dress in quick tugs, bunching it over your hips before molding his clothed bulge neatly into your ass – squeezing your hips and pulling you back to meet his movements as he started rolling into you with need.

You let him – waiting with knees somewhat shakey. It had been so long since you’d last felt his lust for you that now it made you nervous. Your cunt was already weeping at the promise – so wet you soaked through your panties. Even your mouth had pooled with water, desperate for what was to come.

You closed your eyes, listening to him buckling up his belt, followed by the heavy sounds of his pants dropping to the floor – then the warm feel of his hefty manhood resting between your asscheeks. You moaned just at the feel of it. Veiny and warm and soft. Your breaths turned even thicker in your throat – so excited you nearly started wagging your butt to urge him into taking your panties off.

He did. Hooking his fingers beneath the lace, he pulled it down your thighs and knees and let it pool around your feet – giving your ass a wet bite on his way up again.

His fingers then found your puffy cunt, giving it a featherlight feel and releasing a strained grunt at the drippy mess discovered there – bathing his fingertips in your arousal. You heard him swallow thickly at your ear – his breath baring hints of something heavier from his gut – almost heaving as he grabbed his shaft and slid himself down through your thighs.

You nearly started whining boohoos, feeling his girth glide between the fat of your inner thighs, glossing itself in the slick from your cunt. Your insides screamed for it. It was all too sadistic for you to handle – you needed to push back into him – a wanton whimper escaping you even as you had your lip tugged between your teeth.

He answered the prayer, his movements controlled yet strained as he steadily guided it between the split of your pussylips until his head caught on your entrance. He hissed, pressing inside you without any prepping – and you sucked in a gasp, stinging at the stretch, taking the fat mushroom-shaped bulb inside you slowly – so overwhelmed your vision blurred with spotted light. 

Then you released the prettiest moan – whole body tense with anticipation as he eased the fat length all the way inside your pretty cunt – filling it so good, your thighs quaked with curled toes, sinking your teeth into your lip with eyes squished tightly shut – sighing with a needy whimper once his head nudged deep into your cervix.

You and your body both had forgotten his size. Feeling tunneled. You nearly had the urge to climb away as it rested inside you – every meaty inch stretching you out – but he held you steady at the hips, keeping you still as he nestled deep and completely within your walls – making you pant out like a needy bitch in heat. In the end, you couldn’t do much more than curl your toes into the carpet, eyes flickering with arms nearly giving out beneath you.

You didn’t expect the slap to your ass. “Ah- Katsuki-” You yelped with a buck, clenching down even harder around him.

He gritted his teeth at your pretty cry and did it again – planting his hand down hard into the doughy flesh. Pulling back with his hips and thrusting in again.

You clawed the table, picking up the tablecloth in balled hands – struggling to make breaths – insides fluttering and wavering between the delight of finally being filled and the flighty dread of being split in two – crying at the pain, being stretched so awfully good.

He smacked you again, and this time, you whimpered, reeling from the pain of it – feeling the skin sting and prickle – hot beneath the squeeze he made after, gripping the fat like putty. 

“Katsu- s’too rough-” You cried, shaking on his shaft – but also from the pleasure – feeling your head cloudy and hot where your brows cinched up.

He ignored your cry, giving it another hit with his palm. Backing up until only his tip remained inside, then running you through again – pelvis clapping your rear. So deep it choked you, making your tongue loll out of your mouth with your moans. So robbing, you needed to bow down until your tits rested on the table to avoid your arms giving out beneath you – panting as you held onto the feel of his every inch sliding in and out of you. Fucking you so well, you drooled.

“What's this I hear about you leavin’ me, huh?”

A cold rush flushed your body then.

The burn of pleasure suddenly went tense – still there, but vulnerable now. Your heart flared, beating fast – so loud you heard it in your head.

You weren’t able to answer before he’d snuck a hand up your chest and grabbed your throat, lifting you from the table and pressing you back against his chest where his lips could graze the shell of your ear. “I had a lil’ chat with Eijirou earlier. Care to know what he said?” He whispered now, feeling your breath turn thin beneath his hand. 

He held you tight, fingers sinking into your jugular – but more so in threat – not rough enough to choke you. 

Still, it made you squeeze on him harder. 

He didn’t wait for an answer. “He told me that Mina told him that you’ve been having ditzy thoughts about ending things… That true?”

“N-no- that’s not what I said-” You denied with a stutter – chest tight with a need to moan out, feeling the plush bulge of his cock-head knead into your cervix – making a mean outline on your tummy – burrowed so deep it made your thighs shake at the pressure – feeling the onslaught of that tightknit rope within your core begin to fray, soon to snap and let go.

“It's so like you.” He accused coldly, making another harsh thrust into you – cock punching your stomach in the perfect spot. “To go run your mouth with no plans of backing any of it up.”

“B-but I-” You didn’t have your wits with you to defend yourself – busy rubbing your thighs together, chasing the sweet release you felt pursuing.

“Buh-buh-but nothing.” He dismissed – his other hand making way down past your belly button, his fingers soon running over your clit – beginning to rub tight and slow circles into it – making your moans spill past where his hand kept your throat in a lock. “If you wanted me that badly, you should have just asked. But I guess that’s too much for you, isn’t it? You’re just too innocent, aren’t yah?”

You were nearly there until he spun you around. Quickly gathering your thighs, he picked you up and made you straddle him – pushing your back against the wall with a bang that almost had the pictures falling down.

You only moaned, going dumb from the thrill, wrapping your legs around his torso as he sunk back inside you. 

“I don’t buy it, sweetheart. Be honest now-” He breathed with a grunt, pressing his forehead against yours, and you slung your arms around his neck. “You’ve been touching yourself without me, haven't you?”

You bit your lip under his interrogating glare, looking into his red eyes through your lashes only to look away – flighty with a tiny whimper before squeaking out a hesitant but honest, “Ye-yes-”

“When?” He pushed with a hiss – wasting no time.

You burned with embarrassment – fingernails denting the swole and sweaty muscles of his back, feeling him dig inside you so deep and hard and fast you couldn’t help but spill with the confession. “Yesterday- after dinner- when you were sleeping-”

“Where?” He added, clenching his jaw at the shy way you nibbled your lip, telling him all your dirty secrets while pinned against the wall, taking him inside your tight wet cunt with such a face that just coaxed him into going harder and faster.

“H-here, on the floor-” You answered, moaning it for him with your breath in your throat.

“Tch-” He scoffed with a groan and a grin – feeling you clench on him, recognizing your mannerisms – you were getting close. “I didn’t know I was living with a little slut.” 

“I’m not-” You protested with a whine – giving him the cutest pouty face he’d ever seen.

“Don’t lie.” He barked, slamming into you – making you squeal with a moan, fingers pulling the locks at his nape while clenching on him tight – your breath shuddered, stomach tightening up like a knot before suddenly snapping. He chuckled hotly, feeling you shake from it. “Don’t you fuckin’ try it when you’re cummin’ on my cock like that-”

His lips mushed yours with another groan while you moaned from the release. He gripped your ass tighter, pulling you to meet his rhythm, riding it out of you – biting your lip to finish the kiss. 

“Be honest-” He seethed, his voice tight – low and gravelly, thick with arousal. “Where do you want it?”

You quaked at the question, head full of cotton from your orgasm. You looked at him with hearts in your eyes. “Inside me, please, Katsuki~”

“Fuck-” He stuttered – that was the last he could handle before burying himself deep – gripping you tight and keeping you snug against him as he emptied himself with hips jutting – pressing you firmly against the wall behind you.

He kept you there, forehead to forehead, holding his breath down to the very last drop – then let out a long and relieved sigh. But still, he held you there – with sweat running down his temple as he huffed air until both your breathing calmed down. And even then, he didn’t let go.

Instead, he carried you off toward the bedroom – leisurely in his steps as your legs dangled over his arms before placing you both down in the soft bed.

He helped you out of your dress, shimmying it off over your head with your hands lazily raised in the air – then he tore his own shirt off over his shoulders, flexing his back with a stretch and groggy yawn before laying down with a complete sigh. 

Throwing an arm over your midriff, heavy and thick with muscles – his hand splayed on the small of your back – holding you snugly – limbs tangled together with your heads propped on the same pillow.

“Next time you’re thinking about touching yourself when I’m asleep, just wake me up.” He grumbled, his eyes already closed. 

You gave a breathy giggle, murmuring an “Okay~” with a smile. Looking at his face and the cute blush dusting his cheeks with dew.

He had that small scrunch between his brows like always, twisting his handsome face into something so adorably moody even in his sleep. 

His warm breath puffed slow and steady against your face – dewy from his slightly parted mouth.

“Katsuki?” You whispered after a while, tapping your finger on his peck with a soft bite to your lip. 

He opened his eyes, sleepy but awake still – blinded by your wide-awake eyes eagerly staring back at him.

“One more time?”

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[whatswrongwithblue]

At a costume party Alastor is dressed as a pirate, and you're dressed as a bar wench... You find yourself drunk and fumbling desperately in a dark closet, him holding the door shut so no one walks in, while pinning your to the wall, while you work yourself up and down his cock.

💜😘😈

You know me, I had to make it just a teensy bit darker and rougher than the prompt required, but I think you're gonna like it.

Summary/TW: possessive Alastor, oral (both receiving), vaginal fingering, cock riding, creampie, alcohol consumption, biting/blood play.

Trick or Tease

You had been with Alastor for a while now and while it wasn’t exactly rare that you two were intimate, you had never seen him openly stare at you like he was doing that night.

Sex with Alastor was always an event that required lots of buildup prior and sometimes it had little to do with you.

If the two of you had spent hours of quality alone time together – dancing or talking – he might make love to you in a slow, tender fashion. The kind of long, sultry love-making that made your toes curl, your heart sing, and left no room for doubt of the depth and intensity of Alastor’s affection for you.

Other times he would return to the hotel in a quiet, seething rage and you would slink off to your room, knowing he would come and find you, and take what he needed from you. Those were the times he fucked you. It was always a brutal act and he took you in such aggressive, carnal ways that there was always a touch of fear in your heart for him then. With his cock slamming into you, drawing out each of your orgasms almost against your will, he reminded you of the sheer power imbalance in your relationship. And when he came, he always bit you, filling himself with your blood as he likewise filled you with him cum; marking you and devouring you so that you knew you were his. Reminding you that you should feel lucky to be in such a position; because if you weren’t, you’d likely be dead.

But outside of your most private moments, he rarely touched you. A chased kiss to the back of your hand before he left on the errand was the only real show of affection he would perform in front of others.

So when you had come down the stairs in your costume and he continued to stare you down from across the room, you weren’t sure what to make of it. In fact, you assumed wrongly as first that he was angry at you for your choice of costume.

Your bar maid outfit was far from slutty as far as Hell’s opinion on the matter went, but it certainly had more cleavage than your day to day outfits showed. Those tits of yours were pushed up high and looking round and inviting, sure, but otherwise the outfit was fairly modest. With a long, heavy skirt, and an apron designed to look well used and authentic, you were hardly the most scantily clad member of the hotel. Even Charlie, in her bunny costume, was showing off the entire expanse of her legs and even her lower ass cheeks and Vaggie certainly looked like she had no complaints about her girlfriend’s attire.

Again, you caught Alastor’s attention and with an irritated flush, you tried pulling up the ruffles of your shirt just a little more.

You shouldn’t care what he thought. It was your body and you still had autonomy in this relationship, or so you had been led to believe. And for fuck’s sake, the vamps and flappers of his day showed off more skin a hundred years ago.

After adjusting your clothes, you looked back up at him in time to see his eyes narrow even more as he watched you over the rim of his whiskey glass.

You huffed and grabbed your drink from the bar and down half of it in one swallow.

Fuck this.

You should be enjoying yourself. This was a party, for Satan’s sake, and it was suppose to be a rare fun night in Hell. And Alastor was looking way too yummy in his pirate costume to be acting like such a bastard when all you wanted to do was enjoy the eye candy that was your lover for the evening.

Instead, you avoided him, not wanting him to sour your mood any further. So you drank and danced, usually with Charlie, but often with Cheri or Angel, and whenever it was with the latter, you ended up with another drink in your hand.

As the night went on, you almost forgot about Alastor and his stupid, angry face. But then you realized you had gotten far more intoxicated than you intended to and you stumbled your way from the dance floor, your drunken, lonely heart searching for him as your irritation with him was washed away by the booze. All you could remember were those tight pants and the eye patch that had been traded in place of his usual monocle. You wanted to run your hands through the ruffles of his shirt before ripping them off of him.

But then you couldn’t find Alastor. As much as you searched through the crowd swarming the hotel lobby, you couldn’t find those familiar red ears and little antlers. Even through your drunken haze, trepidation began to bloom in your stomach, twisting your organs into knots of anxiety.

You remembered his anger then and in a rush of regret, realized avoiding him had been the wrong course of action.

Feeling flushed with alcohol and guilt, you swept your eyes over the dance floor one last time, no longer able to absorb the happiness and light atmosphere in the room. All you could see were the mistakes you had made that night. So you left without saying goodbye to anyone, wandering down the empty hallway that would lead you to your room and hopefully some form of reconciliation.

You blinked in confusion as the hallway suddenly went dim, the lights flickering to low before going out completely. In your drunken stupor, you weren’t sure what was happening, until a pair of arms grabbed your roughly from behind.

And then you were dissolving, falling, flying, spinning . . .

You came to in a tiny dark room, illuminated by a singular, pathetic lightbulb dangling above your head, as Alastor loomed over you, pressing you against the wall.

Your head spun for a moment longer as you got your bearings. Transporting you by shadow had been a mean trick as you often got a little motion sick from it even when sober. But your breath caught in your throat, stalling your nausea, as you looking up with shaking pupils to see Alastor’s blazing red eyes boring into you.

Before you could speak, he had a clawed hand on your jaw and pushed you harder into the wall behind you.

“Did you really think teasing me all night was a good idea?”

“I’m sorry- ” you squeaked out as he lunged at you but then his mouth was at your neck. As he sucked and kissed your flesh down to your shoulder, a mix of confusion and arousal began to course through your muddled mind. “Teasing you?” you stammered. “You think I was teasing you?”

“Wearing this?” he said, leaning lower and forcing the hem of your blouse lower to expose more of the swell of your cleavage before he took a mouthful of your curves, the sharp edges of his teeth digging in enough to feel the sting. “Not speaking to me,” he said when he let go of your breast with a pop. “Dancing with others. Always keeping me in your line of sight.”

“You – you liked the costume? I thought . . . I thought you were angry?”

“Angry?” Alastor yanked the loose collar of your blouse off your shoulders and you obediently pulled your arms free of the sleeves, exposing the strapless bra beneath. “Why would I be angry at you showing off a bit of your beauty?”

He reached behind you, unhooking the back of your bra and made you watch as he burned it in his grasp before turning his attention to your breasts.

“Your only mistake dear, was not making it clear that beautiful body belonged to me,” he said as he cupped your mounds; massaging and pinching your nipples between his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back to the wall behind you, arching your chest into his hands. “It is, it’s all yours.”

That heavy skirt was being lifted now as Alastor brought it higher and higher, exposing inch after inch of your thighs until he had the fabric bunched up at your hips. He bent down on his knees and you leaned your hips forward as he pressed his face into you, leaving teasing, tender kisses along the top band of your lacy underwear.

“Hold this,” he directed and you took the folded fabric of your skirt in both your hands as Alastor hooked a careful claw under your thong and pulled it down your legs. “I think a little teasing is in store for you, don’t you agree?”

You only nodded as you stepped out of your underwear and he guided one leg up onto his shoulder and felt him continue his path of kisses along the inside of your thigh and all around the outer edges of your lower lips.

Whimpering at the close contact of his lips and the heat of his breath ghosting across your moist opening, you clutched onto your skirts and ached for more.

His tongue darted out, dragging a long but feather light lick along your slit, making your hips rock as you tried to ground into him.

“So wet for me already,” he hummed and praised you with one hard suck on your clit before returning to his tongue to its torturous administrations. Slow, light, cruel strokes along your cunt that had you nearly crying out for more.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Think about me?” he asked as he slipped a single finger inside you, just past your entrance. “While dancing with others?”

His long, slender digits stroked your insides in a come hither motion, making your legs tremble in pleasure.

It wasn’t enough to let you come, just enough to keep you on the edge, begging for more, and he knew it. Alastor was going to make you work for it, make you apologize and beg for more before he let you finish.

“I came looking for you. I wanted you. I was just scared.”

“Scared?” He brought his lips back to you, swirling his tongue around your clit, giving you a small reward for your admittance of fear he clearly liked hearing about. You whined and rocked your hips into his mouth, only catching your breath enough to reply when he pulled away; only touching you with that solitary finger still inside you and stroking you along to a release it refused to give.

“You looked so angry.”

“Hmmm, your mistake,” he said and looked up at you with a mischievous smile. “Though I suppose anger and desire are cousins at times.”

“Let me make it up to you.”

He finger left you and he stood, once again towering over you.

“And how would you like to do that, darling?”

You stood on tip toe and kissed him, pulling his head down to you with one hand while the other cupped the bulge that you could now see, even in the dim light of the closet.

“How I usually apologize to you, of course,” you teased, feeling a little bolder and more relaxed now.

Those ruby eyes of his flashed brighter for a second and you got on your knees as he unzipped his trousers and pulled them down with his underwear, letting his cock bob free and guided you by the back of your head onto his considerable length.

Letting your skirts drop around you, but keeping your breasts exposed for him to enjoy, you settled in before him and parted your lips for him.

You moaned as he filled up your mouth, taking him down inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat and you pulled away, leaving a tantalizing string of saliva between your lips and his throbbing tip.

Then you licked along his sides and the venous, pulsing bottom of his length, coating every bit of him until he was wet enough for you hand to pump at his base and you could focus on sucking what you could fit into your mouth easily. Keeping your own demonic teeth at bay, you worked his cock just how you knew he liked it; alternating between taking him fast and deep, and swirling, pleasant flicks of your tongue along his tip.

You performed to the very best of your abilities, meeting his gaze the entire time with the widest, most sorrowful doe eyes you could muster, until you heard the two little words you had been waiting for him to utter.

“Good girl,” he sighed as he cupped your jaw, thrusting his cock into your mouth with an appreciative slow tenderness, allowing you to do most of the work he trusted you to do so well.

You hummed in agreement and pulled your mouth away from him, though you still slowly worked your fist along his length. “I’m your good girl. Can I have my reward now?”

“And what should that reward be?” he asked, twirling a lock of your hair around his fingers, an innocent look on his face despite the fact that you were still stroking his cock.

You kissed his tip and then several times along his length before you looked back up at him.

“Something this big and gorgeous deserves to be ridden.”

And that was how you found yourself on the floor of the supply closet, with Alastor seated beneath you, both of you still half dressed, as you rode him just like you promised, hard enough that the door behind him kept threatening to swing open until he finally wrapped a shadow tendril around the doorknob to keep it in place.

This wasn’t the sweet and gentle lovemaking you two usually shared. And it wasn’t the forceful, urgent way he took you when his inner demons needed an outlet. This was something in between; lips lingered on skin in heated but delicate caresses, full of reverence and worship for each other. Your bodies joined and met in a harsh rhythm, creating a slapping cacophony of sinful noises that filled the room and likely could be heard if anyone else made the journey down that dark and lonely hallway.

The alcohol coursed through your veins, pushed along by your undead hearts that beat together in a rapid rhythm. Each push and pull of your blood sending more intoxicating substance to your head, and your nervous system, dulling and sharpening your senses all at once. You felt every wet slide of your depths as they clenched and ached around Alastor’s cock, heard every static filled groan and whispered filthy words of praise that spilled from his lips, and yet it took an immense amount of effort for you to finally come.

You were drenched in sweat and out of breath, your breasts heaving with your struggle for air and the desperate rocking of your body into Alastor’s.

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw and you could tell he was close and fighting off his own end until you met yours.

The memory of dozens of other nights, with his essence filling you up and coating you with silken warmth sang through your thoughts, spurring you on and finally bringing you to the cliff’s edge of your pleasure.

“Come for me,” you whispered and his eyes shot open at your plea. You pressed your knees into the floor as hard as you could, impaling yourself until you took him as deeply as you possibly could. “Please, Al’.”

Begging. You were properly begging, nearly in tears at how close you suddenly were, feeling yourself already lose control of the muscles in your core as they began to tighten and spasm. “Give it to me. Please.”

He pulled you down to him and bit into the fullest pulse point of your throat, and you screamed a vibrato of ecstasy as you came together. Alastor let your blood spill down your throat and breasts, watching the trickles paint your skin a vibrant red as he twitched inside you, giving you that full and claimed feeling you had been after. As his cock softened and your movements slowed to a halt, you left him nestled in you warmth as he finally began to lick along the crimson trails until you were lapped clean. The bite mark remained, inflamed and clotting, and you arched your throat for him and he kissed along its edges. You practically purred as you laced your fingers through his hair, nestling him to you as you stroked his ears and antlers in the aftermath of your bliss.

“Oh my sweet darling, that was wonderful. Just what I needed.” He sighed and hugged you to him, reduced back to the secret devoted lover you usually had in your bed.

“Will you dance with me now?” you asked, letting your voice slip into something sugary sweet.

With a snap of his fingers, you were both standing and fully dressed. You could even fill the band of your bra digging into your ribs again and the mess between your legs was gone.

Well . . . almost gone. As you stood there, you felt the slightest of trickles leak out of you and dampen your underwear. That, and there was the lingering pang of overworked inner muscles and a rather conspicuous toothy wound on your neck.

You knew all these things were purposeful. They would be a reminder throughout the rest of the night, as Alastor showed you off to the crowd of Sinners, spinning and dipping you across the dance floor, that you were completely, unabashedly, and wholly his. And that you should never, ever, try to avoid him again.

[hijackalx]

MALE BG3 COMPANIONS TEASING YOU +18

characters included: astarion, gale, wyll

FEMALE COMPANIONS

ASTARION

teases you like it’s his JOB. he likes to be able to coax reactions out of you— seeing your cheeks go red/averted gaze/fidgeting gets him excited

will even try to agitate you on purpose so he can fuck the attitude out of you later. he can be SO irritating and he knows it. acts all smug after you tell him off too because he’s already fantasizing

gives you a lot of sneaky touches in public, especially when he knows you can’t react. the type to touch you under the table while you’re with company just to watch you squirm

if he’s in a teasing mood during sex just know you’re gonna be in for a long night. will draw out EVERY TOUCH and move agonizingly slow. also laughs at you when you whine— he’s a BULLY 😫. makes you cry from frustration so he can “comfort” you after

WYLL

has a really cute way of teasing. he can’t contain his smile when he does it, you always know right away that he’s messing with you

very playful with it; he wants you to tease back. loves it if you can get a good banter going. only teases you with dirty stuff occasionally, so it REALLY flusters you when you hear it

not super into saying/doing sexual things with you in public. teases you discreetly— it’s usually minor but it’ll occupy your thoughts for the rest of the night, he literally plants a horny seed in your mind and lets it grow lol. by the time you guys are finally alone clothes are being RIPPED OFF !!!

tries to tease during sex but gives in so fast lmao. he likes when you tell him how badly you want it but he just can’t deny you 😹😹 he wants to give it to you too badly

GALE

KING of dirty talk. will say the nastiest things to you in the most poetic fashion. sometimes it’ll be so graphic it’ll make your jaw drop and he’ll just look at you like “what? 😃” BOY YOU KNOW WHAT !!!!

will tease you with magic. blowing a gust of cold air up your shirt/skirt or inappropriately touching you with mage hand and then trying to look inconspicuous after

teases you in public with zero shame as long as no one calls him out on it— and most of the time everybody is too flabbergasted to say anything LMAO. i think he tries to be discreet sometimes but just fails so badly at it. he’s probably kind of into the idea of other people knowing though

such a talkative tease in bed. likes to make you wait for him to tell you everything he wants to do to you first, but once you’ve reached a certain level of neediness he gives in. not a sadistic tease, just a playful one

[nikkento-writes]

“What are you doing here?”

You let out a sigh, knowing instantly who it is breathing down your neck as you peruse the refrigerator for a can of beer. If it isn’t his voice, then it’s his massive, overwhelming presence that’s a dead giveaway. No matter where he is, how many people are in the room with him, Toji just knows how to draw attention.

Without a rush, you reach deep inside for a can, not caring what brand it is. When you resurface, you turn to look at him, opening your beer with a snap, unbothered and unfazed to see your ex-boyfriend here, glaring at you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he repeats, with emphasis.

You take a sip, shrugging. “Drinking a beer.”

He crosses his arms, eyes narrowing at you. “Smartass,” he mutters under his breath. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Rolling your eyes, you argue, “Says who?”

“This is my fraternity. Us breaking up means you’re no longer invited.” He looks you up and down, gaze particularly focused on your very, very short skirt. “Especially in that.”

There he goes again, clearly unchanged since the breakup. He always liked to police what you wore out, even though he had no issues parading around in skin-tight t-shirts and sweatpants showing off his big, bravado self. It’s no use arguing with someone who refuses to see the hypocrisy in himself. Feeling especially spiteful tonight, you say, “Well, Shiu seemed to think it was okay.”

He hides it well, but you know you’ve struck a nerve. There’s the slightest twitch in his lip, right where his scar is. “Kong invited you?” The words come out through gritted teeth, his fist clenching the beer bottle so tightly you think it might shatter. On second thought, maybe he doesn’t hide it so well.

You give him a shit-eating grin. “Yeah. And he told me to wear his favorite skirt, so I did.”

Now you’ve really done it. But Toji being the tough guy he is will never show you how much you get under his skin. He scoffs, leaning in so close to you that you feel his hot breath as he speaks. “You really piss me off, you know that?”

You don’t back down. In fact, you challenge him, pressing your mouth to his ear to whisper, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m wearing your favorite panties.”

As it usually goes with you two, the mood switches from seething anger to intense erotic energy. It takes less than a minute for Toji to grab you by the wrist and push his way through the crowd, stuffing the two of you into the frat house laundry room. He props you up on the washing machine and eats you out, the panties he bought for you on Valentine’s Day wrapped around his cock while he strokes it.

The story about Shiu and the skirt is totally false. You made it up to rile Toji up, knowing he’d want to make his mark on you once he heard it. He rips your skirt off, tearing it at the seams. “Toji!” you yell at him.

“Oops,” he smirks, tossing it behind him. “Guess you can’t wear those anymore.” He bends down to lick your clit again, slurping and sucking until you come, moaning his name. A few more pumps and he’s coming too, shooting his load all over your panties. “But you can still wear these,” he purrs into your ear, making you put them back on, soaked with his cum.

Despite everything that happened that led to the breakup, fighting and bickering over the stupidest shit, acting like assholes just to spite one another, you and Toji just can’t seem to stay away from each other.

[bunviie]

"wear this dress just for me,"

pairing .ೃ࿐ eren jaeger x black (chubby) reader

synopsis ༊*·˚ your best friend eren can't handle the thought of you going out on a date, let alone in a dress he bought for you. so he distracts you from going!

contains ೃ⁀➷ oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, cum eating, overstimulation, soothing ass massages, lovesick eren just wanting to make you feel good.

this wasn't planned..and was super late. sorry.

you spun around in the mirror, eyes dancing along your plump figure. you sigh feeling defeated. throwing your skirt onto the floor with other articles of clothing you previously tried on, shadowing your current emotions. you were beginning to lose hope. nothing in the moment seemed to flatter you and you’re growing more frustrated by the second. 

the formerly clean room now stood in utter disarray. items scattered, dressing the ground suitable for the mood. your playlist wasn't of any help as it played more upbeat music. contrary to what you're feeling.

you walk over the small pile of clothes and head back over to your suitcase which has very few options left. you grabbed whatever you could before throwing them on the bed. earning an exasperated mumble.

“seriously?” your best friend sighs, removing a stray pair of underwear from his arm. his voice instantly reminds you of his presence. you forgot you invited him over for a second opinion.

“sorry eren, i'm just losing patience here,” you mutter, removing your off-the-shoulder top, leaving you in just your underwear. unaware of the intense gaze following your every movement. 

the male ponders staring at the clothes thrown to the side of him. a mix of bottled-up emotions coursing through the pit in his stomach. you were preparing yourself for a date. 

you were out with your group of friends, having a good time as one does when they're on spring break when an attractive man approached you at the bar, claiming his move on you first. eren grits his teeth recalling the previous night. 

you had been keeping your friends company on the dance floor, giving your worn-out body a few minutes of rest at the bar. you were deciding to satisfy both your thirst and prickling feet. eren had his focus on you the entire time. despite having enticing women surround his table. his lips tugged into a smile, far too many times he can count, watching you enjoy yourself. he waited until you were alone. all the while, trying to spark up the courage to talk to you, unaware of his forlorn expression that wore on his group of friends. they all bashed him for killing their mood with his obvious distress. one of them offered him words of encouragement to talk to you until ultimately garnering enough strength to walk over to where you sat, he quickly stopped in his tracks when he saw a random guy sit beside you. he was only a few words in and already had you laughing at whatever it was he said. eren could only stare blankly at you both before returning to his seat. crushed he lost the chance to speak with you. he folds and bends his fingers and hands, a habit he grew throughout the years. his joints crack and twist at every will. the sound of it springs your attention to his distracted one.

“eren?” you called him again, hoping to draw his attention away from whatever had been occupying his mind.

 he hums softly and looks up at you, acknowledging your new choice of outfit.

“what do you think?” you tug at the much shorter skirt, seeking helpful input.

“it’s too much.”

his answer lacked the usual spark and interest, much like all the other responses he gave you.

you huff displeased. “you’ve said that for ten outfits straight. it's either too much or i'm not putting in the effort,” you retort. expressing your blatant irritation.

eren’s gaze returns to the carpet, not having anything to say back. the silence speaking for him. he continues to fiddle with his hands, at a loss for words, unable to articulate the turmoil building inside of him.

“if you knew you weren’t going to be helpful, why did you agree to this?” you pull the blouse over your head, tossing it into the other pile of rejected clothes. 

eren just remains silent. his line of vision pursues your hasty movements. you approach the bed and sort through the remaining options. a white garment in particular captivates both you and eren. your eyes practically gleamed at the flowy material. you might have just found something to wear for your date.

eren’s breathing misses a beat, resulting in him inhaling unsteadily. you're oblivious to his new state. as you always were. it was no different this time so why did eren feel himself getting riled up? he could only watch hopelessly as you threw the dress. it was a perfect fit. of course, it was. he was the one who bought it for you after all.

it was a gift. he had promised you one if you managed to pass at least three of your exams. he remembers the day quite fondly. he had just finished his shift, paycheck in hand when you sent him a text asking him to pick you up some food. later defending the text, explaining that it was a joke when you sent it.  you weren't expecting him to show up with food in hand at your door thirty minutes later but he got it for you. besides, it was thanks to you that he got the chance to see such a fitting dress for you. he had passed by the store so many times on his way home from work. that day, some workers had put up new sets on display, grabbing his attention. he stopped to take a good look through the slightly smudged glass window and knew right away which dress was made for you. his heartbeat races at the thought of you potentially wearing his gift.

you squealed, your excitement not being able to be contained. it snaps eren back to you. a wave of resentment rose in his throat.

“you're not wearing that.” 

the disapproving comment leaves you taken aback. it came out of nowhere. you spun around, your mouth curving into a wry smile. and as if on cue, your playlist ends. signaling just how quiet the room was without it. 

“yeah okay, you hater,” you brush him off, heedless of his sincerity. eren doesn't take this lightly and stands up, walking over to the mirror where you stand, admiring the dress. his reflection grows closer to yours, though you don't pay him any mind.

“i mean it,” he mumbles. focused on the soft warm carpet beneath his feet. you glance behind you. he had gotten closer to you in the last few moments. his proceeding steps make you back into the wall. his body towered over you, casting a shadow over your shorter height. his arm presses against the wall, his concentration remaining on the ground. his mouth moved reluctantly as if he wanted to say something. you stared intently anticipating his next move, noting the trouble in his eyes, despite the stray hairs trying to hide them. they fall nicely, adorning his adamant features. 

“you’re not wearing it,” he repeats.

“b..but wh–”

“...you’re not gonna wear it for some other guy,” he mutters. his mind seemed to travel a million miles an hour. struggling to make sense of his words, vision darting frantically in the process. instinctively, your hands move up to cup his face,

“eren, what are you saying?” your voice was so soft and soothing. your first instinct is to comfort him. to hold him and tell him that everything is going to be okay. it's always been like this. his stare shifted to your own, his face softening naturally. you affect him so easily. his mind stops for a mere second, and his thoughts which were once a jumbled mess quickly fall into a much more coherent path. 

“i'm saying don't go out with him,” he speaks in one breath.

you stutter. not sure where all of this is coming from. saying you're stunned is an understatement. his raw honesty surprises you.

“stay here with me, please,” his hand rests on yours, his face seemingly leaning closer. for a moment, everything is brought to a pause, from the air around you to the very last breath leaving your lungs. it all comes crashing down in an instant. suddenly things happened all at once. he had gripped onto your waist, pressing his lips onto yours. your eyes widen and remain open as your lips are jostled to their own will. the kiss was sweet. there was so much longing behind it, you feel like you're being told a story.

eren pushed you further into the wall, his body closing the cruel short space between you both. you can practically feel his heartbeat humming against your chest.  his hand staggers, raising and hesitantly landing back onto your waist. as if he didn't want to push his limits. he’s holding himself back.

you stood there stupefied, your emotions welled up on their own before you could even make sense of it all.

eren pulls away, giving your hand leeway to drop back down to your sides. his eyes are again telling you a thousand things at once.

“i have feelings for you,” is what he says but you can’t fathom that you possibly heard him right, your fingers linger on the edge of your lips, mind absent to his tangent.

“i’ve had them for a while now...i just…didn't know what to do with them. at first, i thought it was affection for you because you were my best friend, but i found myself doing things i wouldn't usually do at just the mere thought of you. i feel things i don't ever want to stop feeling…” he rambles, wanting to get the mountain of words off his chest while you’re losing focus, your mind growing dizzy from everything happening. your heart swoons and you feel your face heat up. you had no idea he felt this way about you.

“and you were gonna leave with this dress on and i couldn’t le–”

“oh, eren,” you mustered out, breathlessly. reciprocating his affection, you propel yourself onto him and he catches you effortlessly, your plump lips falling on his. he kisses you back unwavering. warm emotions flow out through his entire body from your bodily consent. he isn't super sure of how you’re feeling so he pulls away again.

“wait, are you sure?” he stares at you intently. his eyes grew hazier by the minute. scanning yours for absolute certainty. the last thing he wants to do is ruin his relationship with you.

you nod and initiate the exchange again, pulling him to your height. with your assured response, his body wastes no time. it moves in a way that neither of you can process properly. his hands slide up your legs, gripping at your supple flesh. your skin is so soft and smooth, he wants more of it.

you figure out what he wants and jump at his please, thighs intuitively wrapping around, he once again catches you without difficulty. the kiss progressed into a much more heated make-out session, his tongue prodding at yours, it slipped in easily. saliva in the clash between your mouths, signifying the yearning amongst the increasingly desired-filled air.

he carried you both towards the bed where he sat on the edge of it, continuing to explore your cushioned body. you push further into the kiss, ultimately straddling his lap as he lays flat on the mattress. he groans, hands sliding under your dress to the swells of your ass. he gropes, massages, and fondles the soft flesh. he can't get enough of you. 

you guide him to the elastic underwear band, and he grasps immediately at the task, stringing the material down your legs and you two come up for air. having a mutual agreement on letting go of any remaining inhibitions that held you back, lost in the intoxicating embrace. his cold fingers graze your burning skin. you visibly shiver at his touch.

he slides himself between your thighs and warm slick greeting his prying fingers. you gasped when he began to circle your entrance, subconsciously clinging onto his shirt. his blood had already reached certain places, your subtle noises amplify it times ten. you can feel the twitching beneath you and you grind against it naturally, eren curses, bringing his hand up to have a taste of you. his eyes flicker, grappling with the effort to stay open. your face just heats up even more, embarrassment brewing deep down.

eren sucks his fingers clean before snaking back between your legs, carefully plunging into you, teasingly slow. your head lowers shamefully when there’s an audible squelch after the insertion. eren only laughs faintly. his laugh comes off as more of a breathy exhale if anything and you feel your heart and hole clench at the sound. you are lying on his chest when his free hand spreads your ass cheeks for deeper penetration. you whimper into his white t-shirt and eren is dejected from how muffled it is, urging into sliding a second finger in. you cling onto him tighter as his digits continue to work their way into stretching you open. he explores your cunt skillfully at touch, causing immense pleasure. in and out, thoroughly reaching places and sending you over the edge. your insides only get more lewd with every thrust. furthering your shame, you start to whine because of it. your intriguing sounds once again stifled by the cotton material.

this prompts eren to sit up. he adjusts you as such, fixing you snugly in his lap, your legs caging either side of him. his fingers remain plunged deep inside of you. your arms come up and rest on his shoulders, your head buried into his neck. you didn't want him to see you become his heated mess. he is well aware of your shyness but doesn't mind it too much.  instead, he tries to provoke more of your sweet cries, increasing his pace as more of your essence leaves your sopping cunt.

eren suddenly clears his throat. the rumbling in his chest makes you flinch.

“were you really about to wear this dress for him?”

you almost missed it. the question was so soft, so low, you’re nearly positive that it didn't happen.  you raise your head to look at him, already meeting his stare glued on you. his eyes were darker than usual. you can identify a bit of hurt behind them but the lust that stood front and center hid it all. his softened glare lingers on yours before dancing back down on your body. 

you sat up tall in his longing embrace. words that you wanted to say, you couldn't even think of. your mind was boggling with pleasure, you’re not sure if you're even thinking at all. your mouth opens and closes a few times. words failing and turning into pants and whimpers. and as if to encourage you, eren smooths his hands over your ass, giving you a soothing encouragement boost.

“i– i….i d–didn’t…kn–”

hearing you try to form a proper sentence and epically fail, did something to eren. it was pathetic in a way. the tears that leaked into the corner of your eyes. the drool that stood teasingly on the edge of your bottom lip, and the constant cute moans he heard ignited something deeper. his mind too is boggled with pleasure. the pleasuring thought being you, in his veiny arms, taking his fingers like the good girl you are. one of his many desires he gets to fulfill. he was living it in this very moment. making you feel good. he couldn't wrap his head around it still but here he is, drilling his long fingers inside of you, causing a fat glob of cream to escape. he also thought you would be on the verge of tears right now or begging him to fuck you with his pretty cock that sat confined in his shorts. his balls hung heavy under his raging erection. it honestly was really achy but then again, he didn't mind it. he preferred your pleasure over his. it's always been that way. 

even if the tip of his dick was oozing the sticky stuff and was ready to pounce on you at any given moment, he fights against it. 

this is not about him right now. it's about him showing you how much he treasures you.

and with this, he moves his hands between your thighs at immense speed. wanting to bring you to tears from his aforementioned thought, he felt like wasn't doing too much. you lose your breath because of this, hands gripping onto his shirt tightly as you feel your stomach tie up knots. you looked down to find the cause of the sudden increase in pace. his hand moved so fast, that it resembled the look of vibrations. your eyes close shut feeling your body beginning to tense up. your toes curled and your eyes prickled from the oncoming tears. your body practically pleading for that sweet sweet release.

eren removes his hold from your ass cheek, using his now free hand to dart slow strokes onto your clit and this sends you over the edge. your body shakes on impact. your cries come to a temporary cease as your climax washes over you. eren only slows his pace by a little, wanting you to ride out your high entirely. it wasn't until you shuddered that you reached between your thighs for him to stop. he picks up your hand and places a tender kiss on the back of it. his gentle touch makes you flinch, the result of the aftershocks. he removes his other hand, laying his fingers flat on his tongue, his upper lip coming down to secure the flavor, the flavor of you. you watch him lazily, occasionally jumping. that orgasm had ripped so much of you, your eyelashes met the skin of your warm cheeks many times. you feared that you might just fall asleep in your best friend’s arms. your head dozed onto his shoulder and eren rubbed your back. a subtle praise, a good job, for you. 

he can feel your short breaths on his skin. they soon become better paced, signifying that you have calmed down. your arms cling around him tighter, drowsiness eating away at your consciousness. you sigh contently. thinking about how great the night could end this way.

eren then grips the bottom of your thighs and lifts himself off the bed before placing you on it and for a moment you're sad. thinking he’s leaving after the intimate moment you two just shared. you want to stop him. ask him to stay and keep you company for a little while but don't find the energy to. instead, you ready yourself to turn over and cover yourself with the blankets when a sudden force yanks you to the end of the bed. your sleepiness almost immediately dissipates with shock.

eren stands where your feet lay, quickly lowering himself onto the ground. you sit up on your elbows and watch as he bunches your dress around your stomach, only to pull you further to the edge of the bed. his arms swiftly wrap around your thighs, letting your legs hang off his shoulder. he’s engulfed in your softness.

you open your mouth to detest anything and everything he’s about to do but you're too slow. eren’s head dips closer to your core, his tongue out to flick at your clit. you flinch, your swollen bud buzzing with sensitivity. eren sees this but doesn't care. he only goes in again and you hiss this time. 

“i think i'm sensitive, you don’t have to–mmm,”

you suck on your lips when he puts your clit in his mouth. mouth enclosed on the tiny bundles of pleasure as his tongue mercilessly laps at it. you start trembling early on, your hand slapping over your mouth. it's too much. holy shit, it's too much.

the fleshy muscle works wonders along your slit. he removes his head and one of his arms momentarily, fixing two fingers to part your slick-coated folds. he’s visibly salivating before spitting onto the area. lathering it up, his touch grazing your clit ever so lightly. you wince, flipping your hand over to nibble on the skin, your other hand helplessly holding onto the edge of your dress.

he teases your cunt cruelly, the tip of his thumb moving lazily. 

“i love your pussy so much,” he breathes heavily on your core. seemingly enamored with your very being. he spoke as if it wasn't his first time. he had dreamt of being between your thighs far too many times for far too long. and now here he was, cuddled up tight with your noticeably succulent writhing body above him. there's nowhere else he would rather be. he blows on your tiny nub once more before going back at it, skipping the bothersome foreplay.

you shiver when his tongue slips inside your entrance, the overstimulation beating on your body. you held back the tears that threatened to fall. you try to remove your thighs from around his head but the grip around them only tightens. your feeble attempt at pushing his head away fails, earning low groans from eren. your effort appears like you were only just guiding him rather than trying to grow distance.

“e–eren..” 

you call but he’s too immersed. his eyes remained closed, head moving in a frenzied state, wanting every last drop of you. stray strands of his hair stuck onto his forehead. looking at it, his hair was a mess but it was not like you had room to speak–

his tongue repeatedly prods your leaky hole, gaining a plethora of pleasant sounds from your deserted mouth. your once busy hand was now clutched tightly onto the bedsheets. the oversensitivity turns into vast bliss, and you promptly wish he gave you more of it.

he comes up for air, “i’ve wanted this for so long,” 

he dips back in and eren is so focused on you, nothing you know about because your mind is growing dizzy. you can feel your body begin to shut down with each pump, irregularly grinding your bare cunt against his face, your same hand used to push him away was now tangled in his roots. you muttered lines of gibberish, feeling that familiar warmth form in your lower stomach.

he slips back up and gives you words of encouragement.

“please yn, cum on my face,”

he says, your stomach wrenched over from how easily those words left his lips. it was so breathy yet so gentle on the ears. you wanted nothing more than to give him what he wanted. eren keeps his eyes on you, using his free hand to rub relentless circles on your clit. you continue to writhe and shake, your best friend’s name keen on your mind. he filled your entire being, as you did to him. the entire room smelt like him and he smelt like you. which he loved.

he uses his other hand and applies pressure on your lower stomach, urging an abrupt release. you call out to him raggedly, voice nearly hoarse. your body spasms and induces minor tremors everywhere. it's something you won't ever get tired of. neither will eren.

he slips his finger inside your throbbing hole, the slow, deliberate thrusts are there for easing rather than causing more of your suffering. each movement is a mixture of pleasure and pain, love and lust. and in that moment something ignites within you deep down.

you sniffle, finally coming down from your high. only to cower when you feel eren lick a fat stroke of you. your hand pushes his hair back and retracts quickly.

“sorry, it was dripping on the bed,” was all he said and you felt a flutter in your chest.

he sighs contently and stands up, heading towards your bathroom. you hear him run some water for a few minutes before he returns with a towel in hand. he doesn't say anything and squats down to his previous position, gliding the towel gently between your legs, he cleans you up fondly. his eyes hold so much affection for you. 

your flushed cheeks flare up timidly and eren, who had eren watching you intently, smiles.

“you don't have to be shy around me anymore,” 

“who said i was shy before?”

he quirks a brow, leaving his expression to say the rest. you glower and lay back on the mattress.

eren had left and returned, this time returning shirtless with a few articles of clothing in hand, tossing them over your face.

your attention shifted to the direction of the clothes.

“i figured you would want to sleep comfortably..” eren states the obvious.

you stare sheepishly at the choice of underwear he chose for you.

“ah…thanks,” you nod, picking up the clothes. he stands by the bed and observes your every move.

“you gonna watch me change?” you ask him.

“i mean yeah, that’s the plan,” he responds coyly.

you sat still for a moment to see if he meant what he said and he did. eren kept his stand, arms folded and everything, awaiting your next move.

you chuckle nervously and remove yourself from the bed cautiously, pulling at your dress to cover your sacred areas until you get to the restroom. eren only laughs and allows you space for your privacy.

after changing, you leave the bathroom and walk hesitantly over to eren. he lay on the left side of the bed, his back facing you. you had spent a while in there despite only going in there to change out of your dress. you had sat down on the toilet to think back on everything that happened tonight. making your mind up on certain things, you struggled for solutions for the rest. you didn't take into account how long you were in there.

“eren?” you call out meekly. your steps slowed down as you got closer to the bed. “about what you said, i–”

“it's okay yn, we can talk about it tomorrow,” 

his sudden response startled you seeing how you thought he was asleep. either way, you nod and walk over to the other side of the bed. you get in, unknowingly keeping your distance. 

eren tries to ease your discomfort by pulling you closer to his chest. you sigh. this act seemingly wipes all your worries away…at least for now. his embrace is the one sure thing you are sure about. you close your eyes and drift off into sleep. hoping a good night’s rest will leave your mind filled with answers tomorrow.

[punkshort]

i’m the anon who asked about the request! if you decide to do it, i’d absolutely wait forever😂 it’s very angsty tho, so the idea was for outbreak joel who doesn’t get the happy ending. reader who was head over heels in love coping with his death, maybe flashbacks to show the moments of reader seeing him die? idkidk the idea is very vague, sorry if it’s too sad!! if so maybe reader seeing him die was just a terrible nightmare & he’s there waking them up & helping them through a meltdown?

i’ve been craving for some emotional torture for wtv reason😭😭 thank you for even considering requests!🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Thank you for this request! It's my first one, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I had to take the out you gave me and make this a nightmare because I am a big ol' softie and I won't apologize for it, but I will apologize for taking so long to write it 😂

I hate when you're right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

Warnings: major character (Joel) death - but it is just a nightmare - don't read if you think that will still upset you, angst, language, violence, descriptions of blood/gore/death scene

WC: 2.5K

dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

You knew it was childish. You knew it wasn't essential. But you also desperately wanted to feel more comfortable, and was that really such a crime? To want to feel like yourself again? To want to wear clothes that you liked? That fit you properly? Jackson was well stocked with essentials, clothes included, but the clothes the men picked up on patrol were... utilitarian, to say the least. They grabbed the biggest and the warmest clothes so that it afforded more people the opportunity to use them, but you were beginning to grow tired of tucking men's oversized shirts into your pants, the material bunching up at your waist and twisting around as you walked, constantly trying and failing to feel comfortable in your own skin.

You thought Joel would be more open to the idea of heading outside the walls on your day off. You even teased him with the promise of picking up some new underwear, but he didn't fall for it. He fought you tooth and nail the whole evening, his voice lifting over yours angrily to explain how there's been an influx of raiders the past few weeks, that everyone agreed to lay low until they passed through, not wanting to draw attention or pick any unwanted fights. But you persisted. You always did, and you eventually wore him down when you threatened to leave without him.

Why was it such a crime to want to feel comfortable? It was just two people, you could lay low and go unseen, no problem. You've done it countless times before.

You had hoped he would have gotten over it by morning, but you were wrong. He hardly made eye contact with you during breakfast, skirting expertly around you in your kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he sipped his coffee and only shooting you angry looks when your back was turned.

The air was crisp and the woods were peaceful. You thought that would surely turn his mood around. He always appreciated being out with nature, living off the land. As much as he loved living in Jackson, he couldn't deny that part of himself that felt useful, that felt a sense of accomplishment by surviving out in the wild.

"C'mon, are you really gonna act like this all day?" you teased as you held up another shirt against your body before determining it was the right size and then tossed it in a pile with the others.

He was standing at the storefront window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. "Don't know what you mean."

You rolled your eyes and looked around the store, spotting a table of underwear with a grin. You lightly skipped over and tossed to the side the pairs that looked far too dusty so you could look at the ones underneath. Clearing your throat, you held up a pair of bright red stain underwear. He turned around and you saw it: it was fast, he hid it well, but you still saw it. That all too familiar excited look in his eye.

"Don't you like them?" you asked with a playful pout. He furrowed his brow at you like he was annoyed, and maybe he was, but you still saw the heat beginning to crawl up his neck.

"They ain't practical."

You gave him a defeated sigh and strolled over to your pile of clothes, your fingertips daintily holding the undergarment out to him. "No? Then what are they?"

His eyes shifted from yours to the red material in your hand and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Useless," he croaked, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You got a little closer, letting the soft fabric glide against the back of his hand when you dropped your arm to your side.

"Oh, yeah?" you said breathily, and you watched his eyelids flutter at your tone. "Then I guess it wouldn't matter if I brought them home and let you rip them off me."

He stepped forward, a growl emitting from his chest, low and deep, when at the exact same time, you both heard shouting outside the store. Swiveling both your heads towards the glass storefront, your blood ran cold when you saw six heavily armed men advancing towards you.

"Shit," he muttered, his arm pulling your shoulder down just in time to avoid the cascade of bullets that rained down upon you. You laid face down on the rough carpet, covering the back of your head with your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the shooting to stop. Joel tugged on your arm and you opened your eyes in a panic.

"Follow me!" he shouted, army crawling towards the registers, and you dutifully followed behind, your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Once you made it, the counter offering some, but not much, safety, the both of you pulled out your guns and double checked your ammo.

"Alright, when they stop to reload-"

"I know," you said, cutting him off. You've both been in this situation before. You knew what to do.

Holding your rifle upright and against your chest, you breathed deep, trying to steady your hands until the bullets slowed and you heard more shouting. Joel nodded to you and you both sprung up from the floor, pulling your rifles against your bodies in sync and lining up your targets.

Patience is a virtue. The amount of ammunition they wasted on the two of you was laughable when you each caught one of them between the eyes, leaving four against two.

You thought you would be able to get another shot off but Joel tugged your arm and you slinked back to the floor as a shower of bullets rained over you once again.

"You good?" he asked, and you nodded, gasping for air. Your hands began to stabilize when the shock wore off. You were in the zone.

Pressing both your backs against the small counter, you remained calm and waited out your attackers. Glass shards tinkled and scattered behind you. Bullets pinged against the metal shelving, ricocheting into the drywall.

"Assault rifles for two people? Really?" you muttered, more so to yourself, but Joel heard you.

"Told you this was a bad fuckin' idea," he said angrily.

When there was another brief pause, he looked to you again and nodded. At the same time, you rose up and took aim, firing on your attackers once again. Joel made his shot, you didn't. Three down, three to go.

"Fuck," you grumbled, reloading your rifle even though you still had rounds left.

"Focus," he scolded.

The men sounded like they were getting closer. Their voices were louder. Clearer. The shots were deafening. You prayed they weren't inside the store, because you hadn't planned an exit strategy. Without warning, Joel stood up and fired a shot. You heard a man scream and then a loud thud. It sounded like the man was just on the other side of the counter.

"That's not the plan," you seethed at him when he dropped back down next to you.

"Didn't have a choice, he was 'bout to jump us," he sneered.

Two against two.

When the shots slowed down, you held your breath, looking at Joel from the corner of your eye. He held his palm up to you silently, signaling for you to stay where you were. You heard boots crunching slowly against glass and your heart leapt into your throat. They were in the store.

You shot Joel a panicked look but he just shook his head, focusing on their footsteps, calculating how far away they were.

"Come out now and no one gets hurt," a man's deep voice called out. He was close.

Joel clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. You knew that look. It was the look of a man who was about to do something stupid. But before you could stop him, before you could reach out to him and hold him back, he stood up and took aim.

One shot. That was all you heard when Joel slumped to the floor next to you, clutching his stomach as dark red blood poured from the wound. Your eyes went wide and you saw red. Without thinking, you stood up and shot, taking one of the two men down with a yelp. The remaining raider ducked behind a display, and you dropped your rifle in favor of your handgun. Crouching low to the ground, you inched forward, careful of any broken glass that would give your position away. When you were on the other side of the display, you heard the man's labored breaths. He was scared. He was out of his element. And you had him right where you wanted him.

Silently tucking the gun in the back of your pants, you slid your hunting knife out from your ankle holster. You took a deep breath and lunged forward, driving the knife deep into the man's chest.

He dropped his gun and clutched weakly at your hands, but it was no use. His blood poured from the wound when you yanked your knife out with a grunt, and you watched as his hands slowly slid back down to his sides, his eyes still wide open and staring up at the ceiling.

You smirked, feeling victorious for only a moment before you remembered Joel. Dropping your knife, you rushed back to his side, only to find his face pale and his hands stained dark red.

"Joel!" you cried out, pressing your palms against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. His eyes drifted towards you, softening when he saw you were alive and unharmed. That you were going to make it.

Panic consumed you. Your heart was slamming against your ribs as you fumbled with your backpack, trying to find your first aid kit through the tears.

"I love you," he whispered, and you shook your head.

"Don't start with that, you're gonna be fine."

"Baby," he said weakly, and you choked back a sob.

"Hold on," you told him, still searching in your pack.

"Look at me," he said, and your hands stilled for a moment before you dragged your eyes back to him, your lower lip trembling as you took in his deteriorating state.

"I need to-" you began, but stopped to take in a shaky breath. "I need to patch you up and get you to the horses."

"No, you don't," he said softly, and more tears spilled from your eyes.

"Yes, I do. I gotta-"

"I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart," he slurred, and you could see by the amount of blood he was losing that he was right. But still, you pressed your palms against the gunshot wound, your fingers slipping through his thick and sticky blood.

"Don't say that. I can't do this without you," you whimpered, and closed your eyes for a brief moment. You felt his fingertips weakly grip your chin and you forced your eyes back open.

"Yes, you can," he said as firmly as he could. He was so pale and weak and it was making your stomach turn.

You shook your head, about to argue with him, but he stopped you.

"You keep goin', you hear me?" he said, and still, you shook your head from side to side, small sobs slipping past your lips. "Don't let this world win. You... go on and keep fightin'. Please. Be happy, baby. For me."

"No!" you cried out, spittle dripping from your lips now, mixing with your tears. "I won't! I-I can't!"

"You can," he repeated, and gave you a weak smile. "I'm ready, baby. It'll be okay."

You squeezed your eyes shut tight, the tears leaking out, hot and angry on your cheeks as you sobbed over him, clutching his hand in yours so tightly, like if you squeezed hard enough, you could give him your lifeforce. Give him your breath. But moments later, his grip weakened and when you opened your eyes, his head slumped to the side and his lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.

"Joel!" you screamed, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat with tears still streaming down your face. You looked to your side, where he normally slept, but he wasn't there. Panic squeezed your throat, your chest fucking hurt, but you flung the blankets off you and ran towards the door. Still not hearing any sounds, you raced down the stairs, almost tripping in the process but you had a grip on the railing to keep you steady.

When your eyes finally landed on his familiar form stretched out on the couch, his back to you, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Reality came back to you now. You had your fight about leaving Jackson, but he won and you slept apart. You never left. He never got shot. It was all just a horrible dream.

You stumbled over to the couch, your tears unstoppable, the nightmare too vivid, too real. Your trembling hands clutched his shoulder as you fell to your knees on the floor, shaking him awake.

"What?" he grumbled, clearly still pissed off about your fight.

"I'm sorry!" you sobbed loudly, and when he realized something was wrong, he whipped around to face you.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

"I-I had-" you began, then you hiccupped, cutting yourself off. His face was etched with concern as he forced himself up and cupped your face.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, the fear in his eyes reflecting back to you as you looked at him, still not sure what was real and what wasn't.

"I had a nightmare," you finally managed to get out. "About our fight. That we... we went out like I wanted and-and-" you collapsed into another fit of sobs, your shoulders shaking violently.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, pulling you up and into his lap and rubbing your back. You pressed your tear stained face into his neck, inhaling deeply, grounding yourself. He was alive. He was here. Everything was fine.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your throat still tight but your tears were slowing down. "I'm sorry we fought. I don't wanna go out anymore. I don't need new clothes, it was stupid, I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," he said, pulling you tightly against his chest, "I'm sorry we fought, too. I just wanna keep us safe."

"I know, you're right," you said, pulling back a bit and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Will you come back to bed?"

"Yeah," he replied with half a smirk. "'Course I'll come back to bed, baby. Don't cry, it's alright."

You let him lead you up the stairs and to your bedroom, your side of the bed still damp with sweat but it didn't bother you. Joel was safe and sound and in your arms and you didn't care if you had to wear a potato sack for the rest of your life, as long as you had Joel, nothing else mattered.

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[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

You Love Me for Everything You Hate Me For

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cock warming; insinuated breeding kink

Summary: You knew better and Daryl would remind of that.

A/N: Inspired by @retroellie headcanon regarding submissive vs dominant Daryl and @thewalkingdilf headcanon on cock warming. 🩵

*gif is not mine

You choked on another whine, body vibrating with fine tremors of barely contained arousal and a desperation for relief. You had lost track of time, stretched and molded around Daryl’s cock buried to the hilt inside you. The hunter was on his third cigarette, taking ample time to enjoy each long draw while his sharp blues remained locked onto your face. 

How the fuck was he able to be within your velvety walls and remain completely still, completely lucid, completely fucking hard?

“Daryl, please.” You took the risk, bit the bullet, even after you were ordered to remain unmoving and silent. Turning his head to the side, he let the smoke billow from his mouth in a cloud that blocked his eyes from you for a moment. 

“Knew better than to wear that shit out where that creep could stare atcha like a piece’a meat.” In his defense, the skirt really had been a bit on the shorter side, barely covering the curve of your ass. Spencer had followed you around like a lost puppy, ensuring he stayed behind you. You weren’t stupid and neither was Daryl. You knew where the man’s gaze had been drawn. 

“You brought me the skirt from your run. I wore it for you.” You knew your backtalk would get you absolutely nowhere. Truth be told, you were probably earning yourself more time without the fucking you yearned to receive. 

You both were well aware that Daryl didn’t care one bit what you wore outside. It made him proud for you to show off. Everyone knew you were his, so completely and utterly and helplessly his. He just wanted a reason to toy with you, not that he needed one. 

“Don’t matter.” His index finger moved from where his hand rested on your thigh, flipping up the edge of the fabric in question the slightest bit. “Need remindin’ who this is for.” 

You did whine then, shifting your hips in the smallest motion to seek friction against your swollen, throbbing clit. His large hand left your thigh to grasp your hip tightly, squeezing in warning. 

“Don’t be a brat or I’ll keep ya here all day.” The cigarette was left hanging from his chapped lips so that his free hand could glide under your top, the rough pad of his fingertip carving a line over the swell of your right breast and down to your nipple. The little bud pebbled beneath his attention, your pussy clenching around him. There was a twitch inside of you but your archer’s expression remained indifferent. 

“God, Daryl, please let me move. I’ll be good, I swear.” Your hands left his shoulders to lay flat against his chest, itching to unbutton his shirt and feel his skin beneath your palms. “You can cum inside me. Fill me up if you want.”

His finger stilled over your areola, a dark brow arching. “That’s temptin’, sunshine. Real temptin’.” He moved his hand to your other breast. “Too bad I ain’t in the mood to bargain.” 

You fell forward, your face buried against his neck. You thought for sure that would break him. You knew the risks. So did he. Fucking a baby into you had been discussed but ultimately placed on the back burner. He wanted it. He’d made that clear. You wanted to give him that, a little family of his own, but Alexandria was just too new. You could always see it in his eyes, though. The subtle disappointment when he pulled from within your tight heat to empty himself on your skin. 

“Please! I’ll do anything!” You pleaded, sitting up to grind your hips down again. His hand squeezed your hip at the same time that he pinched your sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Anythin’, huh?” His eyes met yours while he tilted his head, considering your offer. “Alright.”

The sound that burst from within you was the most desperate, embarrassing keen you’d ever let slip. Your walls hugged him again, preparing for the fucking of a lifetime. His smoke was dropped into a glass of water on the table, joining the ones that came before it. 

“What do you want me to do?”

The grin he gave you induced goosebumps all over your skin. “Wait. Wantcha to wait.”