🐱🐱🐱- She’s Purring Fr

So glad we brought it back to The Horny. You’re getting so worked up and only over his fingers, I mean Peter really has you desperate for anything he’ll give you. And you’re grasping onto his arm, trying to ground yourself but a thought comes to mind. Two can play at this game. You place a hand on his thigh, sliding it up just to barely graze his crotch. You hear a small gasp from him and it eggs you on. You’re palming him through his sweats, feeling him grow and twitch under your touch. He’s groaning your name and picking up speed with how he fingers you. But neither of you have acknowledged each other, the both of you have your eyes glued to the screen. You guide your hand under his pants and wrap your hand around him. It’s turned into a competition now, who can get the other to come first. He knows he's close, but so are you. You're faltering, and he knows exactly what to do to make you come undone. With his thumb rubbing circles on your clit and his fingers curling up to hit that sweet spot that has you clenching tighter around him. You're coming while chanting his name and the action is enough to send him over the edge too.

fwb tasm!peter x reader and peter just wants to fuck but you won’t until you clean up his wounds and he’s trying so hard to ignore how his heart skips a beat. all he brings is pain to the people he loves, which is why he only tries to bring pleasure to you instead because he can’t bare to think what could happen if he came to accept his love for you. 🥲🥲🥲

@buckys-estrella …help

i should be bent over on a balcony rn but ok

FERAL. INSANE. LOSING MY MIND. THIS WAS EVERYTHING ‼️

under my hands

pairing: adrian chase x reader (gn pronouns, afab sex descriptions (vaginal/breasts))

rating: e+

word count: 4,334

one-sentence synopsis: from the moment you let a little secret slip in the bar, you're driving adrian out of his mind.

author's note: i got a bunch of very feral requests that made me so unhinged i combined them into one and then went completely bonkers so ENJOY!!!!!!!

read on ao3!

“I do, too,” Chris argues at the top of his voice, slamming his glass down on the bar tabletop. “What, you don’t fucking believe me?”

“No,” John replies. “I genuinely, honestly don’t.” He seems almost delighted that Chris’ face is going red with anger, even as he’s getting agitated himself. “You seem to forget that I, like, watched you in the hospital. I studied you. For a while. It was my job to know you. I know you don’t have any.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Chris says. He shoves away from the table, pushing up to his feet with such force that every glass and pitcher on the table rattles, making everyone shout and reach out with steadying hands.

“What are you doing?” Emilia asks, suspicion heavy on every word she speaks.

“I’m showing you my fucking tattoo,” Chris says, and starts unbuckling his belt.

“Whoa!” John shouts, as Leota calls, “Hell no, Chris!” across the table.

“What?” Chris demands. “You don’t fucking believe me, then I’ll show you—”

“You can’t pull your goddamn pants down in here right now,” Emilia hisses at him, like he somehow needs to be told that.

“Wait, dude, hold up,” Adrian says. “I think I have a pic on my phone.”

“Why?” you ask, and Adrian, already scrolling through his phone gallery, glances over at you.

“Because I took a picture,” he replies, returning his attention to his phone.

“You know,” Emilia adds, “I actually have a tattoo.”

“What?” John scoffs. “You do not.”

“You do?” Chris asks. If Emilia was trying to distract him, it’s working, because he’s reaching back between his legs to haul his chair in again, retaking his seat, leaning halfway across the table towards her. “Where?”

“Somewhere I am not going to show you right now,” Emilia replies.

There’s a beat.

“But maybe later?” Chris asks, and Emilia gives him a look that could have killed him if she had been slightly better trained.

“I have a tattoo,” you add.

Adrian’s head snaps up. “What?”

You thought that might get his attention back on you. His eyes burn through yours before they start skimming over your face, then downwards, coasting over your collarbones. He goes further before snapping back up to meet your eyes again.

“Where?” he demands, before insisting, “No, you don’t,” then asking, “Where?” again.

“Jesus, put your eyes back in your fucking head,” John admonishes him.

“You didn’t see it?” you ask him. It’s only a small tattoo, a tiny design you let your friend do on your hip. You’re not surprised he didn’t notice it, since you’ve only been together a handful of times and your hip is usually either covered by something— his mouth, or his hand, or his leg, or his own hip— in those times.

“No,” Adrian exclaims. “Where is—”

“God, please, not here,” Leota insists.

“Tell me,” Adrian insists immediately. “Tell me. You have to tell me. Where is it? I’ll—”

“We should probably start heading out soon,” John suggests, keeping the coolest head as designated driver and still managing to look halfway certain Adrian’s about to get them kicked out. He jumps to collect cash from everyone for their shared tab.

The entire time, Adrian’s eyes and heated gaze are fixed on you. Only briefly will they flit away before returning back. You’re finding yourself glad John’s the designated driver, because you’re sure Adrian would crash the car— or make you crash the car— if one of you were the ones driving back to the motel.

It’s only when you’re all actually back out at the cars you rented for this mission that you realize you can only ride in one together if there’s only one designated driver.

“Fuck,” John says, staring at the car. He sighs, then steps around the car to examine it from another angle. He sighs again. “Okay, well. Anyone willing to walk?”

“No,” Emilia immediately stops anyone from volunteering. “We can fit. We’ll just— We’ll share.”

“Sorry, we’ll share?” Chris asks.

Adrian turns to you. You can see the intention in his eyes in the moment before he speaks, leaping on the suggestion with, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll just— Harcourt, you sit with Chris, and— (Y/N) can sit with me.”

“Gross,” John comments. “No way.”

“I can sit with Chris instead, I guess,” you say. Adrian’s eyes snap to yours, blazing with a sudden snap of surprised anger.

“No,” Emilia responds first, too quickly, before Adrian even can. “I’m okay sitting with Chris, that’s fine.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, smiling at Adrian. His eyes are fixed on yours before they skate down again, still seeking. If only he knew what else is under here.

“Only if you promise not to do anything fucked up,” Leota warns all four of you. “I mean it, sickos.”

“Cross my heart,” you reply.

“Isn’t this illegal?” John asks Adrian, who waves him off.

“That’s not applicable here,” he tells him, already climbing into the car.

There’s barely enough room for you all, even with your stacking arrangement. In order to fit everyone in the tiny vehicle, John and Leota take the front seat— little more than a bench in front of the steering wheel— while Chris and Adrian are side-by-side in the back. They’re so broad that the spread of their shoulders practically stretches window to window. Chris, especially, is so huge that Emilia probably has the most space to sit just for sitting on him.

You don’t have a lot of attention to pay to Chris and Emilia, though. They’re focused on themselves— and John on the road, and Leota on her phone— so you can dedicate yourself to being as covertly gross as you want to be.

From the moment you climbed into Adrian’s lap, he was completely full-body tense. One of his hands holds your hip, keeping you in place, unknowingly stroking his thumb in tiny sweeps just over the small marks of your tattoo. His other hand is held over your thigh, fingertips stretched to the inside.

Underneath you, in the little rattling rental car, you can feel the initially half-hard line of his cock. He’s pressing up into your entrance through your clothes and his. Every time the car shifts even a little bit, the two of you even slightly jostled, you can feel him getting harder and harder. The thick line of it only gets more solid beneath you, his grip tightening with each passing second.

You can feel yourself getting more and more soaked in response. You clench our thighs together in his lap, desperate for any kind of friction you can get, but it’s not enough.

When John hits a pothole, Adrian accidentally shoves up into you, a quick there-and-gone grind that has you biting back a soft noise in the back of your throat. Adrian’s hands tighten so hard you can feel the indents of the bruises they leave.

You twist slightly, your eyes flying up to meet Adrian’s. He looks up at you from the other side of his glasses, a burning green fire that surges into your mouth and down your spine without a word being spoken.

Beside you, Chris makes a slightly-too-loud grunt of a noise, and Leota calls from the front seat, “That better not be what I think it was.”

“We’re here, anyway,” John says. You’re wedged against Adrian’s front still, arms tucked together, the hard, hot line of his cock striking just against your center, sending a jolt through you as the car comes to a stop. The heat of the car feels impossibly heated. You almost wish the ride wasn’t so short.

When you climb off of Adrian’s lap, all you can feel is how wet you are, how on edge you’ve become. Your underwear is soaked, and you haven’t even shown it to Adrian yet.

“Alright, here’s the room assignments,” Emilia says, fishing a bag of motel keys and a little notebook out of her bag. “John and Leota, me and Chris, Adrian and (Y/N).”

“Just because we’re not fucking one of y’all,” Leota grumbles. “We should get our own rooms for putting up with this.”

“Seconded,” John agrees. “I don’t mind, though.”

“I don’t mind,” Leota says. “I’m just saying. Why should we have to share just because they’re using it as an excuse t—”

“Goodnight,” Adrian declares, taking the key for your motel room with him from Emilia’s hands. Your bag and his have already been removed from the car’s trunk and slung over his shoulder.

“Goodnight,” you echo. You offer them a wave before jogging after him. It’s obvious— to you, and probably to anyone who can see him— that he’s rock hard right now. You follow him without hesitating, practically sprinting up alongside him to catch up with his long strides.

“You need to get in this room right now,” Adrian tells you, as soon as you’re within earshot. “I am going to lay you out, and I am going to find that fucking tattoo, and I am going to fuck you into the mattress,” he informs you, fumbling with the key in the motel room door. “And then I am going to—”

“I actually had a thought first,” you suggest.

Adrian all but breaks the door to the motel room in. He flings his bag aside, sets yours on top of it before he’s whirling on you to pick you up and haul you over his shoulder. Kicking the door shut behind himself, he locks it twice, the knob and the deadbolt.

“Put me down,” you insist, so he takes you to the foot of the only bed in the room and throws you down on it. You laugh as he tears his jacket backwards off his arms, already starting to climb up over you. “No, wait—”

“I waited long enough, I think,” Adrian argues. He takes you by the hips and drags you down to meet him, ducking down to press his smile to the hinge of your jaw. “Don’t you think I’ve been so good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Don’t you think that’s why you should get a reward?”

Adrian lifts his head immediately, eager, excited. “What? Did you actually get me something or are you just teasing me? Like, obviously you’re a present in and of yourself, but—”

“Get up,” you tell him, and Adrian scrambles backward, up and off the bed.

You stand, hooking your fingers in the collar of his shirt so you can spin him, swapping your places. With your hand flat against the center of his strong chest, you push him to sit down at the end of the bed.

“Here or in the chair?” you ask him.

His excitement impossibly seems to double, triple, as he reaches up to skim his hands up your thighs. You push him away, stepping back and out of his reach.

“Decide,” you tell him, and start unbuttoning your shirt at the highest button, up by your throat. “Bed or chair?”

Adrian turns to look at the armchair by the curtains covering the windows at the front of the motel room. He’s clearly torn, but the novelty of the chair seems to win out for him, because he points towards it and answers, “Can we—”

“Yup,” you tell him, and he’s already scrambling. He nearly vaults over the length of the bed to get to the armchair, dragging it out and setting himself in it. When he turns back to you, he’s all eager anticipation and aroused confusion, waiting for your next move, trusting that you have a plan for him.

You do very much have a plan for him. You slip the next button loose on your shirt, threading them down one at a time. You have an undershirt under this top layer, so you’re not too concerned about revealing skin, not just yet.

“Are you going to show me your tattoo?” he blurts out, hands gripping the meat of his thighs as he watches you, struggling not to just reach out and touch. “Please, please, please, show me? I’ll do anything, anything you say, I’ll— I’ll fuck you,” he tells you, pleading, “I’ll fucking— I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t fucking believe it, just— Just show me, just— I have to know, I have to—”

“Shh,” you quiet him, reaching out to set your fingertips over his lips. He’s silenced, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “I’ll show you if you don’t touch until I say. Okay?”

“Yes,” he agrees. There’s no moment of hesitation. His nails dig into his jeans, tight in his hold of his own thighs. His knuckles are going white, he wants to hold you so badly.

You smile as you reach the last button on your shirt and slip it back off your arms and onto the ground. Adrian’s eyes are already coasting down your body, searching every newly exposed bit of skin for a mark, though there isn’t much yet to see. You reach next to untuck your undershirt, taking the edge of the fabric in your hands so you can ease it up and over your head in one long, sinuous roll. Your muscles all work together to reveal you from the waist up.

“Oh— Motherfuck,” Adrian curses automatically. “N— No, you fucking did— not, where did you get that?”

“I just came across it,” you tell him, reaching for the button on your jeans, pushing them apart.

“Can I?” Adrian asks, grinning, and you laugh.

“Maybe.” You ease the zipper down, then spread the fabric so he can get a glimpse at your underwear before you lean to push your pants down in a curl that has Adrian leaning forward, hands sliding forward to hold tighter the joints of his knees. “When I saw it, I just thought, you know— That looks so familiar.”

You kick your boots off, then remove your jeans, letting them join the rest of your clothes. When you lift yourself back up, shoulders back and spine straightening, you can feel the heat working over your expanses of exposed skin just the way Adrian’s eyes are.

“And then I thought,” you tell him, stepping closer. “‘You know who would enjoy this?’ You lean in a bit to whisper, grinning, “‘Adrian.’”

“You were right,” he insists.

“I figured,” you reply.

His grip slides up his thighs and back down again. His cock is impossibly obvious in his jeans, a hard, thick line you can see from here. He’s studying the lingerie set you’ve been wearing under your clothes all day in preparation for this moment. The set is mostly black, sheer enough that nothing beneath is concealed, but both the top and the bottom of it each have a thick teal v stripe cutting in with a thinner silver stripe matching just above, following the sharp lines in wrapping curves around your body. It’s a near identical match for his Vigilante armor, practically painted onto your skin.

The v cuts across your chest on both sides, streaking across your nipples. They’re visible through the sheer material still, and the budded peaks of them grow obvious as you become more flushed under Adrian’s unrelenting stare. The v on the panties cut down in stripes across your hips, laced in a scoop down your waist. It looks like the v is pointing downwards, as if Adrian needs more direction than he already has.

“Fuuuck,” Adrian draws out in a long curse before he whines. “Please, I— Fuck, you look so hot, motherfucker, nobody’s going to ever fucking believe me—”

You laugh, and Adrian’s words cut off, flying up to your mouth, then your eyes again. He tracks your every movement as you draw closer, taking a step nearer, then another, then another. You pause before him, considering, just barely in touching distance but not yet touching.

It looks like he’s actually sweating. You lean in nearer, letting your hands come to grip the arms of the armchair, holding you up without touching his body. Adrian’s nearly shaking, trying to keep himself still. It’s an impossible feat for him on a good day. You haven’t told him yet, but he’s already held out longer than you expected him to, which means he does get his handsome reward.

He is my handsome reward, you think to yourself, a thought so absurd and sappy you resolve to tell him— but later, when he can appreciate it properly.

“Do you like it?” you ask him.

“Do I— Sorry, do I fucking like it?” Adrian demands. “I want to— Can I—” He groans, insists, “I have to fuck you, please, plese, please—”

“Hold on,” you half-laugh. It’s impossible to be fully humored when you’re clenching around nothing, wanting friction on your clit, wanting him to fill your cunt, aching for him. You take the last step closer to him, reaching to brace yourself with a hand on his strong shoulder.

His face is burning red as you climb up onto his lap again. You have a much better angle this way than you did in the car, settling your knees on either side of his thighs, wedged into the armchair with him.

You let your other hand come up to thread through the hair at the back of his head, guiding him into tilting backwards to look up at you. He looks like he’s about to fall apart, his hands trembling where he’s gripping the arms of the chair, now. His heart is racing so quickly that his pulse is visible rabbiting in his throat, an obvious pound-pound-pound you can see throb.

You drag your hand down to cup his jaw, tilting him up into a soft kiss. You just barely press your lips to his as you lower down onto his lap again. He’s so hard now that, even through his jeans, you can get friction on him through your panties.

The fabric is soaked, and drags against Adrian’s denim over his cock to make him cry out your name, teeth biting into your lower lip.

“I’m trying to do something here,” you tell him against his mouth, half-mumbled before you draw back again. “I watched YouTube tutorials on lap dances, let me do this.”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t think I’m going to make it that long,” Adrian tells you in what sounds like mostly a genuine apology. “Please, can I touch you?”

“Soon,” you promise. You lift up off of his lap, missing the touch as soon as it’s gone, but you’re dropping down again only a moment later. You grind down on his cock in rolls, gripping his thick hair in one hand, his strong shoulder under the other.

“Oh, my God,” bursts out of Adrian’s mouth. “Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my— Oh, my fucking God—”

He comes forward, seeking the closest piece of skin he can reach. The flat of his tongue drags up the curve of one breast, moving to mouth at your nipple through the sheer fabric of the black-silver-teal bra. His teeth scrape up over the hard bud of it, and a shock shoots through you.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes in a rush, his words hot and wet against your skin through your lingerie. “I’m sorry, I forgot you said not to touch, I had to touch, I’m so fucking sorry—”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, smiling. You reach between your bodies to push open the button on his jeans to open them yourself. “You can touch now.”

His hands fly upwards, grasping your waist and tugging you inwards in a sharp jerk. Your breath whooses, tightening your hold in his hair. “Where the—”

His mouth glides up your throat, his hand following, He’s cupping your breast in his hand, thumb brushing over your nipple. Your back arches, and you grind down over him, desperately seeking friction.

“Where the fuck is your tattoo?” Adrian demands, pulling back enough to start searching over your skin again, trying to find the mark.

You don’t answer with words, but you do guide his hand to your hip, and he gets the hint easily. Before you know it, he’s grabbing you up by the hips, hoisting you to throw you down on the bed all over again. He yanks off his clothes so hastily his shirt half-rips, but he doesn’t even seem to notice, dropping them in scattered piles across the floor.

It must be such a relief for him to get his cock out; you watch him finally slip the last of his clothes off to leave him bare, taking himself in hand, and he moans out loud in the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” Adrian bites out. He jumps back up onto the bed over you, shoving you up the mattress, diving into your throat to suck a rough mark there beneath the cut of your jaw. He rolls his hips into yours, then glides down, searching. He’s kept his glasses on, focused as he examines every inch of your skin.

He follows his eyes with his lips, tongue following, teeth biting, mouth sucking. He’s practically fucking your leg by the time he reaches your hip, tugging the fabric down, and cursing, “There you are, motherfucker—”

You huff a breathless laugh as Adrian bites your inked skin, laving his tongue over the mark to soothe you when your back arches, a cry ripping up out of your chest. He rises up on his knees, eyes stroking up over you as he frantically strips his own cock at the sight of you.

“Holy fucking shit, I want to— I want to take fucking— I want to take, like, fucking boudoir photos of you and frame them and put them up all over my fucking house but if anyone else ever saw them I’d have to fucking kill them so maybe I shouldn’t—” Adrian’s babbling, and he only stops when he drops down to take your nipple in his mouth again over the fabric. He makes a half-whine, half-moan that shoots straight down to your cunt.

Adrian’s free hand wriggles down between your thighs to tear the fabric of your lingerie aside. He doesn’t bother taking off the panties, just getting them out of the way so he can drag his fingers up through your slit. There’s wetness everywhere, slicking his path; he dives deeper, finding your entrance, pushing in just a bit.

He takes your wetness to his cock, uses it to ease his glide. Within seconds, he’s dragging his mouth up to the hinge of your jaw, biting in as he pushes into you in a hot slide, his hips meeting yours.

“I think I’m going out of my fucking mind for you,” Adrian mumbles into your skin. “Oh, shit, I think I’m losing it, I fucking— I think I love you—”

“Adrian—” you say, your heart jolting as your cunt tightens, feeling his cock pulsing inside you. You’re impossibly filled, pushing up to roll into the friction of him, grinding up frantically to get the last shocks you need to push you over the edge.

Adrian drags you in closer, fucking you up in his lap before he shoves you back down onto the bed. He’s already losing his rhythm, the teasing you drew out for so long— from the night at the bar, to the short ride here in his lap, to everything you’ve done since you got into the motel room— finally coming to a head. He can’t stop saying your name, begging you, face flushed, glasses knocked askew as he drags you into another kiss.

He’s gasping, then, and his lunatic pumps into you and the crazed way he’s grinding against you has you knocking over the edge. You collapse into a melted pile in the bed, his arms the only thing holding you together as his cock splits you apart.

You tell him, “I love— I love you, too,” because it’s all you can feel, your chest and heart and cunt full of the emotions. You’re coursing with it, and he slides his hand up to guide you into a biting new kiss.

“Fuck,” he says, from his throat into yours, more a vibration than a word or even a sound. In the next instant, he’s over his own edge, holding you tightly in place on his cock as he fucks you through his orgasm. You’re overstimulated in the best way, completely dissolved, chest heaving, aftershocks rattling through your mind and body like white lightning that takes you over in rattling waves.

You reach out for him, bringing his throat to your mouth. A gust of a sigh breezes out of your chest when you brush your lips over his throat, then drag your tongue up the strong cut of muscle to his jaw, working lazily and sloppily at his skin.

He huffs a shaky laugh, murmurs, “I can be ready to cum again in, like, ten minutes at the most if you keep that up.”

“That’s not incentive for me to stop,” you mumble, working aimlessly against his skin.

He turns to face you, letting his face drag along yours until he can pull you into a long, open-mouthed, loose-jawed kiss, licking behind your teeth. You let out a shaky moan, and he smiles into the kiss before separating you. He pecks the corner of your mouth, then the tip of your nose.

“Maybe I don’t want you to stop,” he tells you. His eyes skim down again, a blaze of heat down your body before his calloused fingers trail up to grip your hip again. “You are— Oh, fuck— I love you—”

You smile, drawing him into a long kiss that has him grinding up into you again already starting to fill thick and hard again before he’s even pulled out of you.

Against his lips, you ask him, “Do you mean it?”

“Do you?” he replies quickly, and you nod, grinning. He flushes up to his ears, says, “Hell yeah,” and dives in, threading his fingers through your hair to drag you in again.

-

requests used:

"Hiii hope you're great. DRINK WATER💕💕 anywayy I was hoping you can write a one shot of the gang in a bar after a mission and they started talking about tattoos and reader has a hidden tattoo. Adrian wants to find it so badly. He begs and talks so dirty he'd do anything to see it 😭🥴 thank youu" (anonymous)

"Adrian chase/vigilante x reader (has a vagina) >explicit Ok but what if you all have to take a smaller vehicle and he offers to have you sit on his lap because it's either him or someone else and he cant let you sit on anyone else's lap and you end up sharing a room (optional: oblivious mutual pining + oblivious cuddling + awkward mornings) and some like rough Adrian. Please 0nly do what you feel comfortable with" (@delirious0pandemonium)

"Help! I’ve fallen into an Adrian Chase shaped hole and I can’t get up (nor do I want to). Just wanted to say I have been LOVING your fics and present to you an idea - showing up to Adriana place with a coat on, then opening it up to reveal a lingerie set in his colours/matching his armor (like black bra with the teal v stripes) and him going feral. That’s it, that’s the ask." (anonymous)

"i would take pictures of you like this so bad but if they got leaked and you were exposed without your consent i would rip out my own eyes out in retaliation" (@nobodys-baby-now)

"Could I have an Adrian x reader, where he comes home and the reader surprises him with a lap dance? I would love to see how you write his reaction. :)" (anonymous)

-

adrian chase taglist:

@violetrainbow412-blog @bigassbisaster @amysuemc @sunflowerfive @papitas-con-sal @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @violinchick @r3tr0sp3ct @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @x-milf-hunter-x @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @jaysfav @themartiansdaughter @dallasvakarian @missscarlettangel @pieriinova @samantha24015 @hillaryroadheadcllinton @ohmybubbletea @buckys-estrella @witchywcmans @ladyrebel25 @eviejune @vigilantesluvr @bb-skyrunner @qjuiq-odakyu

Maaaannn hearing harrison whine out your name while hes in the shower aaaaaaaa

NO WAIT NOW WE’RE TALKING

just after he helps you out gardening next door, you go back round to his to drop something off he forgot. “harrison!” you call out into his house.

you can hearing the shower running and you go over to the bathroom door. you obviously don’t want to go in (although at the back of your mind you’re picturing it so clearly), so you part your lips ready to let him know you’ve left the drill on the kitchen table.

but you don’t get that far because you hear your name being panted, no not panted, whined out behind the noise of the water running over his body.

you remembered harrison’s door didn’t have a lock on it. you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t. but God you’d beat yourself up if you never just even peeked. inching the door open you thought your heart was gonna jump out of your chest, the heat rising to your cheeks.

you were greeted with the view of harrison slumped against the cool tiles, palming his cock and gently rubbing his thumb over his red and aching tip. his eyes where screwed blissfully shut and his hair damp hair moped over his forehead. chest heaving up and down as his lips continually parted to whine your name.

i gonna S(CREAM) 🫠🫠🫠

thank you so so so much for this wonderful thot my dear anon!!! 💌💖

this tweet just screams bob 😭

THIS IS TOO REAL

HE GETS OFF ON EATING HIS PARTNER OUT SO MUCH!!! like it’s never a chore for him, if he could live between your thighs he would. you hated that the first time he ate you out he wanted the lights off but when you felt the mattress shift and move, you knew what he was doing and it turned you on that much more.

the way I wanna fuck venom so bad😭

28 "i’m just getting comfy" with Steve Harrington ? 🥺

warnings: smut (oral m receiving, grinding, semi-public fooling around), mutual pining, steve being a little rough/impatient

It started out relatively innocent: movie night, with a bunch of your friends, on the couch in your basement. Every blanket and pillow from upstairs you could find, popcorn, Junior Mints, all that-- you wanted this to be perfect.

The one thing you kind of forgot to anticipate was that your couch was just not big enough for this many people.

"You look uncomfortable down there," Steve noticed as you shifted around on the pillow on the floor; you'd offered the couch to your friends, but a little decorative cushion wasn't really enough to protect your poor butt from the hard basement floor.

"It's fine," you insisted, "I want you guys to have the couch."

"Shh," someone hissed, apparently (rightfully) annoyed that you were talking during the movie. Steve, sighing, grabbed the remote and paused the tape; some of the group groaned a little bit.

"Seriously," Steve frowned, "it's your house and you're on the floor. There's room for you on the couch."

"Uh, where?" you motioned to the already-full sofa: Stacy and Kyle were squished up next to Evan on the end, who had Claire on his lap since they were dating and all.

"Come on up-- everybody will scoot over," he promised. You sighed and stood up. But, of course, when you approached the couch, nobody moved. "Guys, come on," he instructed them, waving his hands to motion for them to move.

"We never said we were gonna make room," Stacy noticed. "Because there isn't any."

"Then one of you guys sit on the floor!" he decided.

"No, no," you interjected, "you're all guests."

"Why don't you just sit on Steve's lap?" Kyle suggested, looking a little too proud of himself; you knew what they were doing, they'd probably planned all this... the whole group had been trying to wingman for you and Steve for a while now. It irritated you because, one, you told Claire about your crush in confidence, and two, because you were sure Steve didn't feel the same way. Why would he? He had his pick of the litter of the girls at school and you were just his friend. Not that you minded that. It was just a little crush, nothing you couldn't get over.

"I... isn't that weird?" Steve mumbled.

"No, it's fine!" Evan insisted.

"We're doing it," Claire pointed out.

"Yeah, but you guys are, you know--" Steve explained.

"It's not a big deal," Stacy rolled her eyes, "can you guys just work it out so we can watch the movie, please?"

Hesitating for a second, you gave Steve a look. "I mean, if it's okay with you..."

"Y-yeah, I mean, it's fine with me, I just wanted to make sure it wasn't gonna be weird for you," Steve replied.

"Why would it be weird?" you wondered.

"I... I don't know," he shook his head, "just sit down and I'll hit 'play'."

You did, gingerly, hoping to not go too fast and slam into his thighs; when you relaxed, it wasn't super comfortable, but it was certainly making your body react. It felt like everywhere he touched you-- his hips near yours, the top of his legs on the back of yours, your feet bumping together-- you felt warm and sensitive. "Are you good?" you asked him.

"Yeah, totally," he nodded, "you don't have to sit so far forward-- lean back so I can see the TV--"

When you leaned back, your back pressed into his chest, and you found yourself biting your lip... good thing he couldn't see it.

"Okay, here we go," he mumbled, grabbing the remote again and unpausing the film before tossing it onto the table and getting comfortable under you.

You expected him to be... bonier? But his thighs were strong and soft and not as bad to sit on as you thought... that said, you had to adjust once or twice to make sure your legs didn't fall asleep. Each time you moved, you heard his breathing change; wanting to lean back a little more, you gently moved your hips back, and you heard him suck in a breath quickly.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he whispered under his breath.

"I'm just getting comfy," you whispered back.

"Could you... do it less?" he hissed.

"What's the problem?" you asked.

"I... you're just getting kinda close to... stuff," he explained awkwardly.

You really didn't mean to move again, when he just asked you not to, but for some reason you did-- and that was when you felt it. Actually, what you felt first was his hand shooting out to grab your hip and keep you still. Only then did you process that the shape you were feeling pressed against your ass was his erection. Your face heated up in an instant; that's what it was right? Could that be it?

...It almost felt too big to be his cock, but then you shifted again, and you heard him choke out a little noise, and you smiled. Oh god... am I grinding on Steve Harrington right now?

He dug his fingers harder into your hips, and it hurt, but it didn't deter you as much as it should have; it just made you bite back a moan and glance over at your couch companions to make sure they were still paying attention to the movie.

How were you supposed to make it through this whole 90-minute experience without getting caught, or getting so worked up that you had to do something?

Whether it was intuition, good luck, or just a case of being less subtle than you realized, it was Stacy that saved you by pausing the movie about a half hour later. "Who else needs a pee break?" she announced.

"It's your own fault for crushing three Cokes in the first act," Claire noticed.

"So? You had two," Stacy replied.

"Yeah, I didn't say I didn't have to go, too..."

"Okay, uh," you tried to remember the layout of your own house, "there's a bathroom in the hallway by my room, and one by the living room, and another at the end of the hall on the left."

"Great!" Stacy hopped up first, Claire following her. You stood up, too, just to stretch your legs and not look too suspicious, but didn't have anywhere to go. After a quick moment passed, Evan got up, too.

"I could actually use a glass of water," he decided, "mind if I get one from the kitchen?"

"No, go ahead!" you smiled, and he made his way to the stairs as well.

Quickly realizing that you were one person away from being left alone with Steve, who was currently staring at you which you were trying to avoid openly noticing, you decided you needed to make a break for it.

"Uh, you know, I bet there's still a bathroom open... I'll go, so we don't have to pause again later..."

You dashed away and bounded up the stairs, finding the bathroom by your room thankfully unoccupied; you went in and shut the door, running the sink to splash your face when Steve barged in.

"Steve, what the fu--" you frowned, but he slammed the door behind him and spun you around, pinning you to the counter.

"What were you doing back there?" he hissed.

"I... I was trying to get comfortable," you defended.

"Bullshit," he sneered. "What was your plan, huh? Make me bust in my pants during the movie, and then what? What did you think would happen?"

You chewed your lip, glancing away. "Uh, I dunno..."

"Yeah, you weren't thinking, were you?" he sighed. "You didn't think you'd have to deal with the consequences of getting me hard in front of everyone and leaving, right?"

You swallowed as he stepped back, just enough to start opening his belt.

"Get on your knees," he demanded.

"Steve!" you gasped.

"Or you can leave," he offered, "and we can pretend nothing happened-- but I don't think that's what you want, is it?"

Just then, he reached into his jeans and pulled his cock out; just as thick as it had felt against you, hard and flushed and dripping precum already... you absent-mindedly licked your lips.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he scoffed smugly. "Get on your knees, finish what you started."

Carefully, you obeyed, kneeling on the bathmat in front of him. He kept his eyes trained on you, watching you carefully reach out and take his cock in your hand, before delicately licking a stripe over the tip. He only reacted with a twitch of his mouth, a ghost of a snarl, and you nearly whimpered. Opening your mouth wider, you took the head inside and swirled your tongue around it.

"Fuck," he breathed, reaching out to rest a hand on your head-- not forcing you to take it deeper, yet, but guiding you gently.

With each bob of your head, you fit more and more, letting your spit soak him and glide with every motion. He tasted good, maybe it was just because you could smell his body wash, but it was nice; sweet and musky in perfect contrast to the little doses of salt you got each time more precum smeared on your tongue.

"Mm, that's good," he praised softly, grabbing your hair a little more roughly-- not rough, but forceful. A pang of arousal hit right between your legs, making your hips rock in the air against nothing. "Shit-- where'd you learn to do that? I thought you were a good girl, guess not..."

You whined, the sound reverberating through his shaft, and he groaned.

"F-fuck, do that again," he pleaded, and you hummed around him; he let his head fall back, putting his hand on the back of your neck to push his cock right up to your throat. "Oh, we waited way too long to do this... I've been waiting so long for this."

Gently, you ventured deeper, the tip of his cock making you choke at first-- but then you swallowed around it, and it worked. With patience, you took more and more, until both of you moaned when your lips were wrapped around the very base of him.

"You're so good," he whispered, "I'm pretty close-- keep going, we need to get back out there soon..."

Of course, 'keep going' was kind of a moot point when he was fully fucking your throat at this point, keeping your head still as he thrust his hips back and forth; you know, you'd been a little offended when he said you weren't a good girl, but considering the way your body reacted to him using your mouth like this, he was definitely accurate.

"Fuck, m'gonna come in your mouth," he warned you with a whisper. "You'll swallow it, right?"

You weren't sure if you'd be able to nod enough for him to notice it, but apparently he did, because he purred proudly.

"Yeah, that's my girl," he praised, and you whimpered around him again. You wanted to sit down further so you could grind against the floor and get some friction on your aching pussy, but he was too tall, you had to stay on your knees... you tried reaching between your legs to touch yourself, but it wasn't enough-- you needed him.

You could feel his cock pulsing just before he came, and you winced a little when the first spurt of come shot back into your throat just because you didn't see it coming. He breathed through his teeth, clearly trying to stay quiet in case the other people in the house could hear from wherever they were... oh god, you were trying not to imagine that. The idea of one of them walking in right now was humiliating, and terrifying, and sexy.

"Hnng, fuck," he groaned, pumping a few more times before he was apparently done and finally stilled with a sigh. You suckled on his cock while it was still in your mouth, making him wince and pull out. "Fuck," he panted, looking down at you again, "show me."

You opened your mouth and he bit his lip at whatever he saw in there-- it felt like he came a lot, you could feel it moving around your mouth. It didn't taste, like, awesome or anything, you weren't about to go spread it on some toast and dig in, but knowing it was Steve's come in your mouth was just so hot that you didn't care at all. You swallowed it all in one gulp, and he smiled down at you, fixing his hair before he put his cock back in his pants (priorities, right?).

"Okay, see you out there," he offered as he reached for the bathroom door, about to leave.

"W-wait, what about me?" you pouted, standing up.

"We'll take care of you after," he promised, "I think that's the least you deserve after pulling that shit."

Fair enough, but your body was so desperate for him already. "But Steve, I... I'm so wet," you whispered, and he smiled, letting go of the door to step closer to you.

"Really?" he smirked.

You nodded, and he tilted his head. "Well, you know what?" he said.

"What?" you asked coyly.

"That's your problem," he smiled, giving you a peck on the cheek and a 'boop' on the nose with his finger before he left, shutting the door behind him.

You stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the door as if it would make him reappear and say he was just kidding and he was gonna fuck you silly real quick. He was right, there really wasn't time, and this was the least you deserved, but shit... you didn't know Steve could be so mean.

But you liked it.

make me a... (hangman x reader)

masterlist

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x fem!reader

synopsis: family planning with jake

warnings: 18+ only, explicit language, explicit sexual content (strictly pwp, p in v, maybe slight degradation? daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, spitting, so sorry for my sins) 

wc: < 500

let’s all give a ranch water toast to may (seasonsbloom) for getting 500 followers and being so phenomenal!

also I promise I'm working on this is me trying lol currently fighting off a cold and honestly that video of glen powell with his niece & nephew really derailed me we love a man who's good with kids

“Fuck, you like that, huh? You want to have my babies? You want me to make you a mommy?” Jake grunts out as his hips slam into yours. He’s using one hand to prop himself up over you, while he presses the other into your stomach and you know he can feel the bulge of his cock plunging inside you and you know it’s driving him crazier. You moan in response to his question, turning your head to the side and squeezing your eyes shut, still reeling from the aftershocks of your previous orgasm. 

The heavy feeling of his hand on your stomach disappears. Suddenly, Jake grasps your chin between his fingers, turning your head to make eye contact with him. “Answer me, sweetheart. You gonna make me a daddy?”

You open your mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. Jake’s eyes are locked in on your fucked out expression and he moans out your name again, forcing your chin up with his hand. His eyes dart towards your open mouth for a microsecond. You feel his thumb drag upwards to hook onto your bottom lip, holding your jaw open. With a grunt, he spits into your waiting mouth, still pumping his cock into you, and releases his hand from your chin, letting your jaw snap shut so you can obediently swallow. 

Jake’s moan is a heavenly sound. “Good girl, I’m so fucking close. Answer me, please. No, no, out loud,” he insists when you start nodding your head like it’s held up by springs, like he’s fucked out every bone in your body and you’re just a bunch of limbs connected by coils and held together by Jake, Jake who wants to put a baby in you, Jake who wants to have a future with you, Jake who’s currently splitting you in half and loving every second of making you lose your mind. 

 “Yes, I wanna make you a daddy, please,” you finally manage out, and you feel it shake Jake to his very core as he shudders, driving his hips one last time into your poor cunt so that they’re flush with yours and you feel the warmth of his release inside of you. He’s gasping into your ear, reaching another hand up to brush away your hair from your face. 

Jake’s whole body slowly relaxes as he comes down from his high, slowly starts lowering his chest until he’s just a couple centimeters away from resting his entire weight down on you, but at the last second he holds you tightly and rolls over so that you’re on top, his cock still buried inside of you. He snakes both hands around your back to pull you into his chest, peppering featherlight kisses across your forehead. 

“Think that one took?” he asks you with a smirk, pressing one more hard kiss to your sweaty forehead.

no bc that Andy + pussy eating hc... maybe I'm having thots!!! MAYBE I'M THINKING HE STARTS GRIDNING JNTO THE SHEETS EATING YOU OUT AND CUMS WHILE EATING YOU OUT?! AND HES SENSITIVE AS SHIT BUT AS LONG AS IT TAKES YOU TO CUM HES GONNA KEEP GRINDING ND EVEN MAYBE GETS HARD AGAIN? MOANING AND WHINING INTO YOUR PUSSY BC HES SEBSITIVE AND YOURE GETTING CLOSER?? I-

maybe just maybe andy's hooked his arms around you, making sure to keep you locked to his mouth; his beard burns against your slippery inner thighs, but it only adds to the heightened, sensitive pleasure you're experiencing in that moment

and maybe you're too wrapped up in the feeling of his mouth on you...that you fail to notice his slow grind into the bed

you fail to register him whining into your folds as a side effect of his leaking cock ruining the sheets beneath him

the desperation to have you flood his tongue again is manifesting in him rutting into the bed, keeping your pussy spread so that it's easy for him to spit on your aching heat before diving back in like a man starved

honestly, you're going to wish that you captured this moment: andy between your legs, eating you like it's his final wish as he makes a mess of himself and the bedspread

hii friend, i read your tom grant fic and i’m obsessed with it!! would you ever write for joseph quinn the actor? if you can could you maybe write something about joe and reader trying for a baby? if not it’s totally fine :) have a great day or night <333

trying ~ joseph quinn x reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut ofc, 18+ only please <3, breeding kink, unprotected sex (duh), breeding press (aka my weakness), EXTREMELY fluffy and mushy, discussions of pregnancy, multiple orgasms, joe steals the reader's birth control for like 4 seconds, reader is into it but acting neutral because she wants him to beg more lmao, joe makes reader come up with baby names during sex... it's freaky guys

As you turned your head to the side to look at him— laughing gently as he raised his glass to his lips, listening to a friend's story about how she got kicked out of a pub over a complicated misunderstanding— you smiled, too, and reached to give his knee a quick squeeze through his jeans.  He looked back at you, offering a little smile just for you, and the conversation continued.

Later, when dinner was completed and the conversation had moved from the outdoor patio back to inside the flat, you were helping with dishes when the baby monitor went off.  It was just a little at first, just a strange groaning noise coming through it, and then you saw the lights flash brighter and heard a proper cry between bouts of static.  Drying your hands quickly, you popped your head out of the kitchen and saw the hostess first, thankfully.

"Jess, the monitor?" you informed her, interrupting a conversation as she turned.  

"Oh, thank you," she sighed, excusing herself and slipping down the hall.

Joe, a member of the abandoned discussion, gave you a little cringe: "I hope we didn't wake her," he said.

"Oh, I doubt it," you assured him, "babies just wake up often."

Jess came back a few minutes later, and to everyone's pleasant surprise, she brought baby Cleo with her.  Everyone was already in a chorus of "aww"s before she'd even explained why she was bringing her out; "I think she just wants some attention," Jess explained, and dinner guests began to gather around where Jess was standing with Cleo on her hip.

You waited until all the dishes were done to go out there and see the baby yourself, but by the time you came out, you were surprised to see her on Joe's knee— or maybe you were more surprised to see Joe acting a complete fool, making silly faces and noises at her to get her to smile.  

"Oh, just in time," someone else noticed your arrival, "your boyfriend's fallen madly in love with this baby."

"That's a shame," you joked as you sat down next to him, "he was supposed to come home with me tonight."

You gave Joseph a kiss on the cheek, noticing Cleo's massive blue eyes on you as you leaned in closer to him.  You mouthed hi! and waved at her, as she continued to examine you.

Her eyes followed your hand as you reached forward and hesitantly tickled her belly through the star-dotted onesie she had on, and she finally gave you a smile; you'd earned approval, for now.  "Hi Cleo!" you greeted her aloud, tickling her tummy again, and she kicked her legs as Joe held her up on his knee.

"How old did you say she was again?" Joe asked Jess, without looking away from Cleo until he actually heard her answering.

"Seven months," Jess replied.

"Oh," Joe nodded, "is it easier now than when she was born?"

"She sleeps longer," Jess decided, "and I actually have some vague idea of what I'm doing, so that's nice."

Joe smiled and looked back at Cleo, who was looking at you as you talked to her about whatever you could think of.  He moved her in closer to his lap, where her attention was suddenly taken by his necklace; he let her grab and tug on it for a while, until she yanked hard enough to be able to reach up and start pulling on his hair next.

"Ow," Joe frowned, and you laughed at his predicament— he was forced to stay hunched over in his own lap as she balled her fists in his curls.

"Oh, sorry, she's really into hair pulling right now," Jess cringed, reaching forward to try to help unlatch those little chubby hands.  Eventually she was able to get her free, but of course, like anyone forced to stop touching Joseph's curls, she started to get upset.  Just a little pout at first, then a whimper, then a proper cry.  "Oh no," Jess mumbled, lifting her out of Joe's lap— though he started to reach for her again, before he stopped himself.

"Did I make her cry?" Joe asked, the genuine heartbreak in his voice making your own chest tighten.

"No, no, she's just fussy," Jess promised, "she's probably wet— I'll go change her."

Joe turned back to you and you reached up to brush your hand over his hair.  "Looked like she was really going for it there," you noticed.  "She didn't actually manage to rip any out, did she?"

But he didn't answer your question, instead blurting out, "I want one."

You laughed a little.  "Well, when someone picks it up and takes it away to change the diaper, I'm sure it seems very appealing," you noticed.

He pouted a little, but the conversation changed before you could really press him on it— and all too soon, the evening came to a close.  Jess thanked you for your help with everything, you insisted you wouldn’t let her host a dinner party on her own when she had a baby to take care of; Joe asked if he could say goodbye to her, but Jess explained that she was down for hopefully the entire night but promised they’d have another playdate soon.

You could tell Joe really was enamored by Cleo, due in part to how silent he was on the ride home.  Then you got home, and he tolerated you making conversation about the party and the other guests, but there was that distance in his eyes.

“You’re still thinking about Cleo, aren’t you?” you noticed.

“Hm?  Oh,” he sighed, sitting down on the couch.  “Yeah, I am.  She was so little!”

You laughed.  “Yeah, I hear most babies are like that.”

“But she was so cute, god, you saw she looks just like Jess already,” he described, laying his head back on the couch, “but, you know, all fat and adorable.”

“Those blue eyes are her dad’s, though,” you recalled.

“Really?” Joe smiled— his cheeks seemed a little flushed, suddenly.

“C’mon, let’s get our teeth brushed and all so we can go to sleep,” you insisted, grabbing Joe’s hand and pulling him up off the couch, “some of us had a little more work to do tonight than just playing around with a baby.”

~

He was doing that thing he did, where he wanted to say something but he hadn't found either the words or the nerve yet.  But you could never get him to spit it out until he was ready, so you just sighed and let him stare at you as you got ready for bed.

Eventually he got in bed by himself, where he liked to wait for you until you were done with your routine, but you were having a hard time wrapping up since you couldn't find the final step.  I swear I left them right here…

You rifled through the medicine cabinet for a bit, frowning.  "Babe, have you seen my pills?"

"Um, yeah," he called back, "they're right here."

You came out to the bedroom to find him sitting up in the bed, holding the pack in his hand.  "Give me those," you instructed.

"I will— I just wanna talk first."

"Joseph."

He frowned and tossed you the packet, which landed in your hands with a rattle.  Before you'd even started to pop one out, he was jumping up to give you a tight hug.  "Please, darling?" he whined, bending down and laying his head on your chest.  "Please, please please—"

A second later, he was literally on his knees before you, clutching your legs, his chin resting on your hip as you looked down at him.  "You're serious?" you noticed.

"It'll be so great, won't it?  Our baby.  You and me."

"It'll be great—"

"Yes!"

"— and incredibly difficult!  You realize that they just keep growing up, right?"

"That's the best part!" he beamed.  "Kids are even better than babies!"

"And teenagers?" you prompted crossing your arms.

"No no, don't do that," he pouted, reaching up to gently pull your arms open again, "you do that when you're about to say no to me."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, letting him hold your hands down by his face as he squeezed them a little.

"Yeah, teenagers can be annoying, sure," he continued, "but they're fun— you can really talk with them then.  C'mon, I know you think I'm crazy but I really mean it.  I wanna have a family."

"It's all pretty sudden, Joe… you saw one baby today for, like, an hour— and then you stole my pills!"

"Okay, first of all,” he defended, “I just… borrowed them.”

“Right.”

“And second of all, it’s not as sudden as you think.  I've wanted this for so long, you have no idea,” he admitted.  “I mean, really— since we met, I've been thinking about this."

You raised your eyebrows.  "Really?  And did you plan to ever make me privy to those thoughts?"

"Well… I am now!" he smiled, batting his eyelashes up at you.  You sighed, and he stood up again, still clutching your hands.  "It's okay if you don't want this, but seeing Cleo just made me wonder why I've been waiting so long.  If I had it my way, you'd already be pregnant."

And it was impossible to keep hiding your smile when he said that.  "I've been thinking about it too, Joe."

"Really?" he whispered, and you nodded.  He hummed and gave you a kiss on the forehead; you wrapped your arms around his torso, laughing as he pulled you back onto the bed.  "What did you think about?" he asked as he started to kiss down to your neck.

"Well— I mean, I just thought about it sometimes," you sighed.  "What it would be like if you and I…"

"Yeah?"

"But it was just a fantasy!" you interrupted yourself.

"Let's make fantasy a reality, darling,” he purred, “don't take your pills tonight.  Actually, you can just throw them out."

You whined as he rolled you onto your back, pressing his weight into you.

"Please, love?  I want a baby so bad…" he whispered.

"I know," you breathed.

"You want it too, right?  I know you do."

"And you do understand I'm not going to get pregnant tonight just because I'm not taking the pill?" you pointed out.

"So you're gonna stop taking them?" he grinned.

"I mean… I'm thinking about it," you admitted.

"Yeah, it won't be right away— that's the fun part, right?  Trying.  We can tell people we’re trying."

"Ew," you frowned, "let's not tell people that.  It's just a socially-appropriate way of saying that we're constantly fucking."

"Yeah!  That's why it's fun to say," he laughed.  "Even if it won't happen tonight… we can still start practicing for when it really happens."

"Are you out of practice, suddenly?" you snorted.  "Seems like you've been getting some practice in a couple times a week for the last— how long's it been, two years?"

"No, darling, this is different," he explained.  "This isn't just fucking.  It's… making love."

You rolled your eyes.  "Oh, that's ridiculous."

"It's not!  It's supposed to be special, making a baby and all," he whispered.  "It won't be like what we usually do— no… hair-pulling, or anything…"

You frowned.  "Well what's the fun in that?"

"The fun is that I'm going to get you pregnant," he explained, lowering his voice.  "And it's gonna be my baby in you."

You bit your lip.  He smiled, tapping you on the end of your nose with his finger.

“Gimme those pills, love, I’ll go chuck them for you now.”

“Joeeyyy,” you whined, the way you only did when he was doing something that made you wet against your better judgment.

He reached for your hand to take them away, but you laughed as you turned on your side and curled up so he couldn’t get to them.  “You’re not going to make me take them from you, are you, sweetheart?”

“I mean, how bad do you want me off of them?” you challenged.

“Oh, don’t play with me now,” he warned with a purr, “you know I’m dead serious.”

You shrugged.  “Are you though, really?”

He growled and started to 

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you replied.

“Then why don’t we go ahead and make a baby about it?” he encouraged.

You laughed, but nodded.  “Okay.”

“Okay?” he beamed.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” you decided.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, kissing you hard as you kept smiling, “oh god, angel— I love you so much.”

He helped strip you of your pajamas— gently, but efficiently— as he kissed all over your heated skin.  He continued whispering praises and thank yous and promises to get you pregnant as soon as he could

“I can’t wait, I really can’t wait,” he rushed against your neck, hands tight on your waist, “can you?”

You shook your head.

“I just know you’re gonna look so pretty pregnant,” he breathed, one hand ghosting over your stomach.  “My baby, right here, making you all big— you’re gonna be fucking gorgeous.”

That was bad enough, and then his hand started moving lower and lower; of course you spread your legs for him right away, why wouldn’t you?  He still mocked you quietly, though, asking if you really needed him that bad.  You really did.

He just teased your aching pussy with his fingers for a moment, before he honed in on your clit and gave it a few slow circles.  You hummed, letting your head fall to the side.  “You feel ready for me,” he announced as pushed two fingers into you, making you whine and arch your back.  

“God, Joe, I am,” you agreed, “need you inside me.”

“Soon,” he promised.  “Gonna open you up a little more first, love, just be patient.”

He twisted his fingers around, curling them into your spot only for a moment at a time before pulling back and making you sigh in frustration

“Should I make you come on my fingers once, just to get you nice and soaked for me?” he wondered.

“N-no, fuck, wanna come on your cock,” you pleaded.

“Yeah?  You want me to feel it when you come for me, right?”

“Yes,” you groaned, “please… please fuck me.”

“Now, what did I tell you?” he grinned.  “It’s not fucking, darling.”

Funny how you were more embarrassed to say it the other way: “Please m-make love to me,” you whispered.

“That’s better, love,” he cooed as he kissed your cheek before climbing up on top of you; he was still wearing his thin golden chain, and it swung over your face.  “I’ll do more than that— I’ll give you a baby.  You want that?”

You smiled.  “I think I’m the one giving you a baby.”

“Fair,” he chuckled, “okay— I’ll make love to you, and come inside you, and you’ll give me a baby.  How does that sound?”

“Hmm,” you considered, “I mean, it sounds good, but—”

“Oh god—” he dropped his head onto your chest— “love, you’re driving me mad now…”

“I just want to make sure this is what you want,” you teased— and he knew exactly how full of shit you were, but he must have realized that he would have to play along anyway.

“C’mon, darling, I want this more than anything,” he breathed, lifting his head up again to look down at you closely.  One of his hands found the top of your head and stroked your hair, keeping you from looking away.  “I’ve never wanted anything like I want this— like I want our baby inside you now.  Something made from how much we love each other, isn’t it perfect?  And everyone will see us together and know that we’re in love, that we’re a family.”

You sighed a little, appreciating what that would be like; taking such a huge step from being partners, being boyfriend and girlfriend, to being parents together.  It was obviously daunting, but it made you feel all warm and happy inside.

“When it’s here, I can carry it on my shoulders in the park, or you can push the pram, won’t that be nice?” he imagined with a wistful smile.  “And our child will always know how loved it is, how much we wanted them— how desperate Daddy was that he told Mummy he’d do anything if they could have a baby together.”

“Anything?”

“Of course— you’re doing the most incredible thing for me,” he explained, grabbing one of your hands and squeezing it, before he pulled it closer and kissed your fingers.  “We can get married first, if you’d rather do it all in the normal order.  But that doesn’t really matter to me, if I’m honest— we’re a family either way.”

“You’re really into this whole ‘baby makes three’ thing, huh?” you chuckled, but he cut you off with a slow, gentle kiss.  It changed the mood entirely, especially once you relented to it and reached up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he finally agreed when he pulled away, leaving you blinking and trying to catch your breath after a kiss like that.  “I’m really into it.”

You only gave him a little breathless nod, but that was enough of an approval for him: he pressed himself into you, watching your face as your body gave way and took him inside.  He was as deep as possible in less than a second, keeping a focused expression as you moaned and wrapped your legs around his hips.

“Darling,” he breathed, “you feel so perfect— doesn’t it feel different, knowing it’ll really mean something?”

You nodded again, keeping your eyes shut as you focused on the feeling, on how perfectly he fit inside you, on how his hands felt holding you tightly and keeping you close.

He kissed you again, just for a second before he started to kiss different places on your face, moving his hips (finally) though keeping you on edge with how slow he was going.  “D’you want a boy or a girl?” he asked, pressing his smile against the side of your face.

“Boy,” you blurted out— something about the way he was moving inside you made all pretense fall away, and you could speak purely on instinct.

“No, no way,” he laughed, “our first has got to be a girl.  Think of all the sweet little things we can dress her in!”

“Our first?  There’s more?” you gasped— partially because of what he said, mostly because he was holding your hips tight and keeping you close so you had to feel every thrust in the deepest parts of you.  You could barely believe he was keeping up conversation this well while fucking you like this…

“At least two more,” he announced.

“Fuck, and who’s having the other two?  ‘Cause I only signed up for one,” you countered.

“I think you’re going to like it,” he decided, “and you’ll be the one begging me for a second.  For your little boy you apparently want.”

“I just said that randomly,” you insisted, feeling your cheeks heat up.  “Don’t read into it.”

“Yeah?  What would you name a boy, then?”

“Daniel,” you answered far too quickly.  “O-or James…”

“Hm,” he smiled, “I like James better.  They’re both pretty traditional— why not something a little more adventurous?”

“Such as…?”

“I dunno… Wolfgang,” he offered, seemingly off the top of his head, and you snorted.

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were having a German baby,” you laughed.

“Doesn’t matter ‘cause we’re having a girl anyways,” he decided, kissing you just beside your ear, picking up his pace inside you just a bit.  “I know it.  I already know it.”

“Could always name the girl Wolfgang,” you panted, hoping to sound composed even though you were on fire inside.

“Don’t give me any ideas,” he warned, gently biting on your earlobe for a moment.  “I always wanted to call a girl Agatha.”

“You’re joking,” you hoped, flatly.

“Or Penelope,” he added.

“We’ll go with that one,” you decided, whimpering when one of his hands grabbed your thighs and held your leg at a deeper angle— it made everything more intense all of a sudden.  You gasped and grabbed his shoulders tighter, digging your nails in, and heard him hum proudly.

“Do you just really like that name, or do you like what I’m doing to you?” he asked playfully.

“Please, just a little faster,” you begged, “jus’ need a little more, Joe, please, please…”

“Shh,” he soothed quietly, moving to hover above you again and lifting both of your legs this time, “m’gonna give you want you need, darling, if you just trust me, okay?”

He lifted your legs onto his shoulders, and leaned down over you— he hadn’t even moved yet and your whole body tensed up, your back arching and your eyes rolling back.  

“How’s that feel?” he asked with a knowing grin as you reached down to grab the sheets under you for dear life.  “It’s not too deep, is it?”

“Oh my god,” you moaned, “I— Joe!”

You couldn’t say anything else because he gave you a sudden, sharp thrust that made you feel like his cock was in your chest or something.  How could it be this deep, how could anything be this deep?

“Fuck,” you cried, toes curling where they were suspended in the air behind his head.  Apparently you were more flexible than you realized— and closer to coming, too.

“You’re so wet,” he noticed with a sigh, “my god, darling, you’ve really soaked my cock, just because I said I was going to get you pregnant?  That’s all it takes?”

Whimpering, you nodded while holding your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I will,” he promised, his own voice finally showing signs of his desperation— he could only keep his cool for so long.  “I will, love, I promise.”

His hands found yours, and pinned them to each side of your head as your fingers weaved together.  It didn’t take much more of that for you to come— intense and nearly overwhelming, yes, but sort of… comfortable, too.  Not as harsh and sudden as it had been with him before, not the kind to make you scream or sob or anything.  Those were like being thrown into the deep end; this one was more like laying on the beach and feeling each wave slide over the sand and wash higher and higher up your body until you were immersed in it— but without that pesky drowning thing.  It was much more pleasant than that.

“Beautiful,” he whispered to you as he watched you go under, “so fucking beautiful— I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“Love you too,” you gasped out.

He choked a little on his groan; “Again,” he demanded, “say it again.”

“I love you,” you promised, “Joe, I love you so so much…”

He squeezed your hands, and you were too weak and limp now to properly squeeze them back.  “I-I’m gonna come,” he stammered between heavy breaths, “please, darling— I can come inside, right?  Let me come inside you, love, I need to…”

“Yes,” you breathed, back arching deeper, “yes, fuck, of course you can.”

He bit his lip, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes that captured you completely.  “I’m gonna come inside you,” he promised, speaking in a low voice that made a shiver run up your spine, “but I’m not gonna stop.  Okay?”

Fuck.  Was that even physically possible?

“Can you take it, love?”

You whimpered, but nodded confidently.  You could hardly tell he was coming when he did it while still fucking you just as fast— his hips rutted into yours and each flex of his cock seemed to be timed just right with when he was deepest inside you.  Even when you thought you were totally spent, you managed to arch your back a bit more without even meaning to.

He’d been putting more effort into keeping himself partially upright than you realized, because when his strength gave out and he partially collapsed onto you, it forced your legs even closer to your chest— and then you were both delirious from the feeling.

He was just as loud as you, moaning into your neck and the pillow under you as he moved way faster than before, letting go of one of your hands so he could grab your thigh instead to keep you still.

“Fuck,” he grunted, “fuck, darling— I can’t stop until I give you everything.”

“Don’t,” you agreed, “don’t stop… that’s what I want, I want everything.  I want e-every drop of you inside me…”

He hissed through his teeth briefly before he kissed you again; this kiss was a lot more feverish than the last, so much more desperate and filled with moans and gasping breaths against each other.

“Oh, fuck!” you whined when he shifted his hips a little lower and forced his cock right into that spot— the one that was all swollen and sensitive from the last time you came.  “Fuck, baby, please—”

Maybe if he were a little more conscious he would say something all witty and mocking like, is that a pet name or a request?  But he was fighting to keep from falling apart already, fucking into you desperately and quickly even though you were both overstimulated and there was a mix of your and his come starting to make a patch on the silk sheets.

His mouth was slack and open right above yours, and he was getting louder and louder as his hands held yours so tight it was almost painful— it would’ve been very painful, actually, if your hands and feet weren’t already going numb.

When you came again, it was the last straw for him— he let go of your hands to grab onto your shoulders, for some reason, and let out a shaky whining sort of noise; he stopped moving and you really felt it now, the pulsing of his cock inside your sore channel.  You felt full and dizzy and sleepy, the outside of your body entirely limp while your insides kept flexing in spite of the exhaustion.

He let go of your hands, slowly, and used his new freedom to carefully guide your legs down— around his waist, instead, and not held up on his shoulders.  You hissed from the soreness in your hips, but relaxed as he trailed slow, gentle kisses along your cheek.

“So,” he began with a sigh, “that was…”

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement.

You both returned to catching your breath for a moment, while his thumb stroked the upper part of your thigh gently— it did more to soothe you than you expected.

“You came twice,” you noticed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“H-how…?”

His face came back up so you could get a proper look at him— flushed and sweating, a loose curl sticking to his forehead, glassy-eyed and wearing a tilted smile— and you felt yourself clench inside again at just how pretty he was.  “I guess I was just feeling… extra inspired,” he grinned, kissing the tip of your nose as he brushed hair away from your face with his hand.  “Did you like it?”

“Like it?!  Fuck, it was so hot,” you laughed.  “I mean, you barely even slowed down…”

“What can I say?  I really, really want to get you pregnant.”

You shivered.  “Well now I really, really want to be pregnant.”

“I bet it won’t take us too long,” he decided.  “But we should start tracking your cycle and everything, make sure we’re doing everything right… here, while I’m at it—”

He reached past your head and grabbed a pillow, lifting your hips to slide it underneath them before he set you back down— all without pulling out.

“I’ve heard it helps it all stay inside,” he explained.

“You’ve really prepared for this, haven’t you?” you noticed, and he looked at your face carefully.

“If you’re really not sure, it’s not too late to just take the pill tonight and go back to normal,” he reminded you, leaning down closer again.  “I won’t be mad or anything.”

“No, this is what I want,” you promised.  “So, so much.”

He smiled and kissed you quickly, though you reached up and weaved your fingers into his curls so you could pull him back down for more.  “Are we trying again tomorrow?” he wondered, speaking quietly into the kiss.

“First thing,” you smiled.