#COME HERE. COME HERE. LET ME FUCKING STRANGLE YOU

[xesiarah]

𓏵 Sickly Affection

Yan!Mafia Boss x Reader

Side notes: started ts when I was taking a shit + I wrote this to cure my wattpad loving younger self leave me alone teehee

Summary: You got sick and your hot obsessive macho bomshakalaka mafia boss husband decided to make it everyone's problem 😈

—

—

You've never thought you'd be paying for your sins this early.

It's as if every single opp you've had in life is suddenly granted a free reign to beat the shit out of you.

You're currently bedridden, at this point, basically anticipating death to arrive, to take you out of your misery and drag you to the depths of hell where you'd honestly feel way better in.

Well, would you look at that. Your husband enters the room with a commanding presence, almost making the sickness dissipate from your body. Almost. He gracefully kneels to check your temperature with his hand. His gaze carries a blend of innocent concern you'd think he didn't slaughter individuals for a living. "Are you absolutely certain you're feeling alright? If you need anything else-" you cut him off, looking at him dead in the eyes, literally and figuratively. "I need ibuprofen and a will to fucking live."

Actually, you were never one to fall ill easily; in fact, you're 100% positive you're as healthy as a horse. But on rare occasions, the severity would escalate to the extent that you would be confined to bed for over a week, or even worse, to the point of hospitalization.

Nothing truly scares you; it's just that ever since you started dating Damon, everything began to feel like your mom's most delicate china dishes, one wrong move and this dude's patience will snap just like that. And he's never one to fuck around with. — Especially when it comes to the one he treasures the most.

So, when you did fall sick, Damon is in need of someone to take his anger out on, and naturally, he targets his own men.

Those incompetent little shits. He has always made sure to have his men watch over you, whether it be in public or when you desire a sense of privacy. He ensures they stay out of your sight. A week ago, he granted you permission to go out, under the condition that you were accompanied by at least three proficient bodyguards, strong buff men somehow turned into your little ladies-in-waiting. — Later on, when he found out that the cause of your illness was just fuckass rain, he was furious. And all because the 3 dimwits in charge failed to bring an umbrella, like, has not one of them thought about waltzing into the nearest store to buy one!? Stupid buttfucks. Seriously, you'd assume that with the amount of money he pays them, they would come together hand in hand.. and with the power of friendship! Manifest an umbrella in order to shield you from the rain.

At present, the three men who looked after you are trapped in the confines of his office. The tension is so thick, it's like leather or rope, which Damon himself could use to strangle these wastes of air. "Why do you fuckers think I hired you?" He's menacingly seated at his desk positioned in the center of the spacious room. The men were paralyzed by fear, just like your forgotten cup of soda left in the freezer - completely frozen. "Answer me," he calmly stated, and by "calmly" I mean he's pointing a gun at them and didn't shoot immediately. That's quite peaceful, don't you think?

"Or none of you will survive out here," he added, his tone dripping with hostility. As if he even had the intention of letting that happen in the first place. The moment your temperature spiked was the precise moment these three idiots were declared deceased. "N-none of us thought it was gonna rain-" The taller of the three spoke, making the unfortunate decision to try to reason with the devil's incarnate, — lil bro didn't even have time to regret it because his brains were blown out almost immediately. "You think being prepared isn't part of the job!?" Damon could feel himself age ten fucking years. How stupid can you be!?

"Leave." He gestures with his hand. With a heavy heart, both survivors were relieved to finally leave. But, they weren't able to even take a few more steps out the door when two gunshots struck them in the head. Their dead bodies fall to the floor in a loud thud. "Assholes." He muttered, messaging his temples and turning to his second-in-command, holding the gun. "You have been so kind in granting them a lengthy existence, boss," he remarked with a smile. Without even sparing the dude a glance, Damon mumbled, "I need y/n."

Of course, he does. You're literally the only one who could reduce this life-threatening man into a lovesick puppy.

[yanderefarm]

I NEED. another part of that achilles x sadistic make reader thing PLEASEEEE

cw;; nsft language, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort, suffocation

ok i wanna write this idea i had so im putting it here bc im attaching the actual part 2 to another ask.

this was supposed to be filthy femboy achilles sending you sexy videos. it got away from me bad.

your lovely partner is a hard worker even with his proclivity for perversion he very rarely ignores work to get off. usually you two maintain a healthy balance, work and play and on weekends you get him for the more extreme play, but he's out of town. his father needed him to go take care of somethings in another city a plane ride away leaving you without your lovely boyfriend's company for the time being.

the first few days coming home without him being there was strange. it was strange to not have him on his knees at your feet, or curled up in your arms, or tied to your metal slab. you hadn't even realized how much your life had become entangled with his until he was gone. you still texted him every day but you were really starting to get lonely. i mean... his texts leave something to be desired.

'good morning.'

'good night'

'i had an avocado and banana smoothie for breakfast.'

'im working'

'please don't call me at this time.'

it's bad enough that in person he looks like a lifeless robot sometimes, why does he text like one too? you could get more emotion from an alexa. you've been trying to be understanding because you know he's just that kind of person but it didn't help your loneliness. you were trying to call him at night before he went to bed just to hear his voice.

'please don't call me at this time.'

that message was really starting to piss you off. you couldn't be nice anymore.

'answer your fucking phone or im going to bleed you.'

it took a few minutes, about 10 to be exact, for your phone to ring. you immediately picked it up about to scold him for his lack of communication when you heard his harsh breathing on the other side. you could recognize it as how he usually sounded after something intense.

"chilles? are you ok?" your brow furrowed in worry.

"m okay" his words slurred slightly which usually meant he was fucked out.

"... you wanna try again? maybe this time tell me what bitch you're fucking?" your eye twitched in anger.

"m not-"

"im not stupid. you've been barely talking to me this whole week, you won't answer my calls, and now you sound like you just got your ass pounded. so you wanna try again? one more chance before i start sharpening my knife."

you heard him struggle to take a breath before finally letting out a pathetic little whimper. "m sorry, sir."

you let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through your hair, gripping a handful of it as your anger became overwhelming. here you were being lonely and worried and missing him! and this stupid whore was out in another city running around with some bitch.

".... so. is this another attempt to get your throat slit or do you just.. not... care?" fuck you hated how your voice started to crack at the end.

"i.. i would gladly accept your punishment. i tried to resist for as long as I could."

"you fuckin-! yeah! you poor thing must have been so fucking hard for you to resist that!" you were messing up your hair as you rubbed at your head like you were trying to scrub him from your mind.

"im sorry sir. i know im a disappointment."

"disappointment?! that doesn't even begin to describe it!"

"im... im sorry... i didn't realize you would be so angry." you heard him make a hesitant sound before he spoke again. "we'll be here another week and I'll try to behave until we return."

you dropped your hand from your hair instead rubbing the bridge of your nose. tears were starting to gather in your eyes.

"don't bother coming back here. next time i see you you'd be lucky if i don't actually kill you."

you heard a strangled noise on the other side of the phone.

"no... please please, i know im bad. im the trash beneath your shoes. im disgusting and vile. but please please please" you could hear his voice cracking as he started to quietly cry.

you hated how it pulled at your heart.

"you should have thought about that before you 'couldn't resist'." you heard your own voice sounding rough and raw.

"i... i didn't think a toy would make you this angry i-"

"a what."

"a -a toy? the-the toy i bought..."

".... im gonna fucking murder you. you bought a sex toy??"

"yes-! im sorry. im sorry i knew i shouldn't have. i should have just waited. im sorry."

"you..." you couldn't help but laugh as tears fell down your cheeks. "fuck you're stupid."

"im sorry i know. im sorry."

"shut up. jesus... i thought you were cheating on me moron."

"i would never?? i-??" he sounded so genuinely confused.

"you've been avoiding me all week, chilles. you won't take my calls, you text me like a robot, and when I finally hear your voice you're all... horny."

"ive been very busy... every night ive had to go to different nightclubs for meetings... you always manage to call when im trying to be intimidating and I know i wouldn't be able to compose myself if I heard your voice."

"and tonight? you did it again."

"i... i should have answered but i knew i was misbehaving. .....and it would have been hard to speak."

"what were you doing? don't spare the details. i don't want room for more misunderstanding."

you heard him swallow hard.

"i bought the largest... silicone penis... they had at the store. i used some spare rope to tie a noose to the closet and then i put a chair with the toy in it underneath the noose. you called right when i started..."

"you're such a freak. jesus..." you wiped the last of the tears from your face. you let out a sigh of relief and relaxed into the couch. "you shoulda just answered i would have talked you through it."

"i was embarrassed and ashamed of myself... i knew you would be angry"

"yeah i think being convinced you were cheating on me is much better."

"i would never cheat on you. you're the only thing that holds meaning to me. you are my god, i only continue to exist by your will."

"there you go saying weird shit again."

"i mean it... my whole being is only for you. you're not my soulmate you're the owner of my soul. i wish you would carve me open and live inside my skin only then would i be close enough to you." you heard him whine softly.

"freak. ...i miss you. so much. i guess it's getting to my head not being able to hear you say your weird shit and worship me every day."

"i miss you so deeply... i feel empty and purposeless without you. even sexual gratification was empty..."

"did you finish?"

"yes... im.. im still sitting on it. i just removed the noose so i could talk to you."

"perv. c'mon baby boy drag yourself off that thing. it's bath time."

you heard him shift slightly most likely shivering.

"will you... guide me through bath time?"

"yeah. it'll help me relax too."

"thank you, sir. i love you."

you let out another sigh. you could feel your heart swell at his words spoken so softly with only the slightest of warmth. it was like you were freezing because his slight warmth seeped into your heart and spread through every inch of your body.

"i love you too."

BONUS;;

achilles: i don't really sound like a robot do i?

sadist darling: sorry babe. you're super roboty.

achilles: ive been trying to be sweet and text you everyday....

sadist darling: .... just add 1 emoji babe. it'll do you wonders.

achilles: like this..? ⛓️ good morning ⛓️

sadist darling: .because you're chained to me? is that right?

achilles: yes. 🧎

sadist darling: i take it back no more emojis.

[sonofatoasterwaffle]

Tidbit Tuesday

the wonderful @playinginthunderstorms tagged me to share something I've got in the works (thank you, charlie!), so I bring you the freak4freak buddie/nde/blood kink/buckfidelity monstrosity that's been occupying my brain as i try not to freak out about the us election.

pls enjoy

He pulls himself up to sit while Buck crouches in front of him, hands fluttering everywhere like he’ll be able to tell if Eddie’s hurt from touch alone. Eddie knows what he’s taking in. Wet, shivering shoulders, hair plastered to his forehead, blood all over his face from a cut high on his forehead– a split lip.  Hen and Chimney work on Hattie behind him, one of them yelling that they’ll be right over. Eddie doesn’t mind. He’s fine.  But Buck is– he’s–  Eddie’s own hands come up to Buck’s jaw, shaking with adrenaline. “Buck–” he starts, starting to panic. “Your neck–”  It’s cut. He’s bleeding.  It’s sluggish and red, sluicing down his neck. Eddie can hear it, like he’s been hearing the relentless crash of the waves under him, behind him, building up to take him under and make him disappear for good. He can’t disappear. Not now, not when Buck’s here and warm and safe and alive.  He needs–  His own blood rushes loudly in his ears, and he knows Buck’s trying to say something. Trying to talk to him, but all Eddie can hear is the blood. just like before.  Out on the street in front of Charlie Manning’s apartment, the bullet slicing hot through Eddie’s shoulder. The blood spraying all over Buck, his open mouth.  Buck, confessing in the dim light of Eddie’s kitchen. I tasted it, Eddie. tequila sour on his breath as they traded the bottle again. Another horrible day without Chris. Another shift ended with Eddie’s bandaged wounds. It was all I could taste for days. Now, when you get hurt— i- I can taste it all over again. Eddie returning a lie for the admission. I didn’t know that. Really don’t remember much.  If Buck knows– If he’s already—  Then Eddie needs to. He needs it like he needs to breathe. Like he needs Buck against him. Like he needs to keep him.  “Hey, hey, no,” Buck is trying to assure him. “I’m fine, I promise, just let m-”  The blood rushes louder in Eddie’s ears and he pitches forward, fits his mouth to the wound. Warmth explodes on his tongue and he might moan or he might just try. Either way, Buck makes a strangled noise above him, and he doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t tell Eddie to stop, so he doesn’t. He drags his tongue over Buck’s pale skin, trying to clean up what’s already staining him, taking in the taste of copper and warmth and Buck.  He’s shaking with it, needs Buck all over, inside him, filling him up. Buck’s already his, right? All Eddie has to do is ask.  He told himself he was going to ask.  “Eddie,�� Buck says, his voice thick. “Fuck,”

no pressure tagging a few writer mutuals if y'all wanna share! @divine-victory @semperama @littlefreakbuckley @dracculaura

[watery-melon-baller]

average adobe experience

[quietwingsinthesky]

of ten’s companions, if the doctor couldn’t handle losing them and crossed his own timeline to trick them into traveling with future!him instead of past!him so that he’d have a little more time with them:

rose would do it. first because bless her but she has the situational awareness of a rock, and legitimately would not realize this isn’t her doctor until his facade starts to break down and he starts bleeding grief-laced love for her at every turn. but once she does realize it, she’s both deeply sympathetic and a little scared that she could make him into this. it’s a lot to be confronted with having that much power over someone, to break them so thoroughly. rose would try to get back to her doctor, but while she’s with the future version, she tries to do what she can to ease his pain. (she also tries to figure out a way to subvert her fate. she fails.)

i think martha would be harder to trick. she can smell desperation on the doctor like a bloodhound. she is so tapped into the fact that this man wants to off himself so bad and that she’s 90% of his self-restraint, so present her with a doctor who is lacking that and she’s onto him immediately. however, assuming he gets her to come with him, explains why he’s doing this, there’s like. a minute where she’s kind of. not flattered exactly, but surprised, giddy with the realization that he’d come back for a little more time with her, especially if this is early season 3 martha. which would all come crashing down around the time that he reveals that he wasn’t pushed to this by losing her to some tragedy or her death or anything- but that she chose to leave. that is the point at which martha goes ‘oh i need to get the fuck off of this tardis right now’ and ghosts the past!doctor that she was also traveling with because holy shit, man.

donna, like rose, is easily bamboozled into following the wrong doctor home, provided that he shuffles her along into his tardis too fast for her to argue. but she catches on far quicker than rose does. like, three minutes tops of watching the doctor move through the tardis in a way that’s definitely not enthusiastic piloting and looks more like guilty panic. and then she yells at him for lying to her. and she yells at him for kidnapping her. and then she stops yelling because he’s gone sort of still and quiet and his eyes are just broken. and he doesn’t explain himself, he confesses. donna is going to try to stay with him after this btw. because how do you go back to looking your best friend in the eyes when you know he’d take everything you’ve become away from you, even to save your life? and this is still the doctor, he still did that to her, but he regrets it. regrets it so much that he can’t live with it, he’s breaking time and space just to hear her say his name again. and donna doesn’t want to lose him anymore than he wanted to lose her.

[vaguenotions]

I know it's because I'm single and bitter. But I swear to fucking god if my roommate and his boyfriend don't stop talking about the messages they get on Grindr I might fucking explode.

[gutsby]

Make It Stick

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (I’m sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldn’t go with a gun.

Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk

Word count: 4.7k

He should’ve gotten snipped when he had the chance.

Should’ve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctor’s offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:

‘Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, DON’T—’

Words like those normally worked. With women that weren’t you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.

But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t seem to think straight when it came to this fixation he’d developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:

“J-J-Joel—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—I’m gonna CUM.”

And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.

Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldn’t even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.

If he had it his way, he would’ve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasn’t giving him too much trouble.

But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.

With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above you—‘Sweet girl, you’re so fuckin’ good to me’—and watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.

Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.

No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.

Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.

Where the FUCK was his cum?

In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simply…cum without noticing. Shit like that just didn’t happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when he’d wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.

He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.

“No, Joel!” you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, “Another round and I’m gonna combust, you old perv!”

But Joel wasn’t looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, ‘What the hell, Joel?!’ hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.

You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.

“Last time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,” you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.

Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.

“Hold still,” he grunted.

“How come?”

“‘Cause I said.”

How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.

“Wanna sleep,” you groaned, about to roll your eyes.

But you couldn’t deny you liked being doted on by him.

Joel’s touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.

He appeared to be deep in thought—a rare sight for anyone who’d seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time he’d blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.

He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:

“Jo-el—”

“Can ya…push, baby?” His eyes flitted up quickly.

“Push?”

“Yeah, just…” With a look you couldn’t quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, “Like this. Like you’re squeezin’ somethin’ out.”

You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.

Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely would’ve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.

And twisted even further when you ‘pushed’ like you did.

At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretched—no novel concept to you, who’d spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasn’t until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.

You let out a low, tender, ‘Mmph’ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joel’s face turned grave.

He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.

You were young—too young to know better. Too sweet and naïve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore he’d be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear he’d relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was old—too old to be doing this shit.

Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.

“Joel, what’s—”

“When’s the last time you— you— uh…bled?”

Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasn’t talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.

“Like two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?”

Well, fuck.

Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sink’s edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.

“Why?” you tried again. Softer this time.

An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.

“You see this?” Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, “Y’know what it means, right?”

You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.

“Yeah. But…you’re old,” came your answer at length.

You’re old.

Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasn’t quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.

“What’s me bein’ old got to do with anything?” A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, “‘m sorry, baby, just— gotta get this out of you.”

You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?

For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.

“Maria says old folks are, uh…infertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,” you said, breaths labored.

Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.

“Menopause,” he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, “is a woman thing.”

What the hell were they teaching in Jackson’s sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasn’t the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasn’t exactly the community’s highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.

He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.

“S-So, you—” You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, “You’re sayin’…men can make babies…whenever?”

You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicament—of being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.

Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.

Deeper, Joel, keep…pushing in…dee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if he’d just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you should’ve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbing—

“—whole lotta problems for us if you’re, uh…ovulating,” Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadn’t heard the first part of that sentence and didn’t care to.

“Ovulating,” you repeated slowly. Indifferent.

Joel carried on without a hitch.

“Kids just ain’t fit for this world. I know you know that.”

You nodded along, not hearing a word.

“And if you’re— if y’ever did consider, maybe…”

Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joel’s fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.

“…y’oughta start a family with someone your own age—”

That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:

“My own age?”

Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that weren’t just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler source—your foot.

You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.

“What?”

“What?”

Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joel’s shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.

“When’s that ev…ever stopped us from doing it before, hm?” you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, “Thought you liked sayin’ you’d make me a mama.”

Joel’s face flooded pink at the recollection—as a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: ‘That’s different.’

And it was, to some extent. Joel wasn’t blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, you’d loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissed—‘Can we please go home now, baby?’—that Joel was certain he’d been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.

This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.

“Baby, hey, hey, no—” Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.

No, no, no. You weren’t thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.

Smiling a little, too.

“What are you— no, honey, don’t— you can’t,” Joel’s words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth he’d just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.

“What are you doin’? This ain’t…no, baby, it ain’t…safe.”

Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.

“What’s wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.”

You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.

“I just told you,” he huffed, “You’re too young—”

“I’m plenty old, Joel,” you returned, eyes snapping open, “You’ve shown me that more times than I can count.”

Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.

“Baby…”

To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He would’ve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.

Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legs—eyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.

You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as they’d go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.

It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.

Feels nice.

Tastes alright, too.

You’d licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.

“Maybe I don’t want babies with someone my own age.”

Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldn’t get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didn’t stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.

And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old man’s happy trail—your favorite ones—you smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, you’d repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didn’t have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.

“Don’t you think I’d look pretty?” You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joel’s cock—of course he’d grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.

Joel cursed under his breath.

“‘Course I do…” he said, voice hoarse, “Y’always look—”

“I mean…with your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.”

As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again

“You don’t—” Joel choked out, nearly incensed, “—don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’, baby. What that means.”

In truth, there wasn’t a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by him—a man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.

He communicated as much by moving to pull out.

You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.

“I know more than enough, old man—” Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, “—who do you think taught me all this?”

Of course, it had been Joel.

Always, always him—the only one, in fact.

Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:

‘Make her full. Make her yours. Tell any man who’d even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.’

He couldn’t.

Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.

But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.

“You like this…don’t you, Joel?” Your voice was tiny.

“I do.”

In fact, he loved it.

“Then why can’t we?” Why shouldn’t we?

Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your face—and out of Joel, all common sense from his brain—leaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.

Idiocy.

“Just once?” Joel croaked.

Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.

“Just one?” you murmured back.

He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joel’s hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.

“Once,” he repeated, not thinking too deeply.

“One,” you said, with a world of more purpose.

Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.

“One?” Joel panted. Confused.

He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joel’s shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.

“One more of you, I mean.” You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell you’d actually meant it.

Joel’s cheeks flushed again, but he didn’t stop, either.

“Baby…” he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an ‘o’ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheek—maybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: “One’a me takes and I’m givin’ ya fifteen more, y’hear?”

The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldn’t have believed it even if you’d said the words yourself. Joel’s thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.

In disbelief, “Wanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?”

Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.

“Make your old man a daddy, is that it?”

Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.

To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joel’s brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as she’d let him in and told him no, that’s gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, that’s likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.

“That is what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”

Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.

That’s all he’s ever wanted.

Let the neighbors talk.

Let them say what they wanted to say—it was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naïve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:

“That what you want, too, darlin’?” More serious now.

The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasn’t just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.

Something to stick.

“Please say it, baby.”

Someone to call yours.

“I want it,” you said, sounding desperate.

A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joel’s and begged him for more.

“Want what?” He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.

“Want you,” you breathed, “Inside me, Joel, please.”

As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadn’t even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmured, “Right here?”

“Ri— right there. Right there.”

Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joel’s release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Hope our baby has your eyes,” you murmured to him.

It shouldn’t have had such a strong effect—but of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.

Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. He’d clear his whole schedule for it

“That right?” And now he couldn’t stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, “What about their nose?”

He kissed the tip of yours.

“Hope they get this.”

He kissed either one of your cheeks.

“These too.”

You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.

The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joel’s spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldn’t stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, ‘Are you sure?’ and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldn’t be more eager to finish now if he tried.

Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.

There it is.

[tonycries]

Exes who…

Synopsis. Showing up to a party looking like that. What's a man to do when he just can't stay away?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, desperate boys, unprotected sex, NSFW, cunnilingus, pet names (my girl, babe), swearing.

Word count. 1.0k

A/N. This was supposed to be shorter, sorry lovelies. Art by @_3aem on Twitter.

Exes who know they should stay away, but one whiff of your perfume at some dingy party and he’s dragging you to the nearest bathroom. 

He’s pathetic, he knows, but right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he spreads you on that bathroom counter and dives face-first into your dripping cunt.

Greedily lapping at your juices, the taste of your pussy on his tongue was so addictive. Fuck, he missed this so much. 

He feels feral. Groaning lowly at the tug of your hand on his hair which hurts so good. He flicks his tongue harshly over your throbbing clit. More. He needs more.

“Hah- Fuck- Feels so good!”

“Yeah, jus’ like that, my girl.”

Making out with your pussy was almost as addictive as fucking you. You were a drug he couldn’t let up - he couldn’t get enough of. 

Nose-deep in your cunt, he tastes you over and over the way he imagined when he fucked his fist on those lonely nights.

Fingers digging into your thighs, he moves your legs so that they wrap around his head, bringing him impossibly closer to your hot core. He breathes over it - teasing - mouth watering at the sight of it getting wetter just for him.

He’s pretty sure your sinful moans and the squelching sounds could be heard above the overplayed pop on the other side of the door. Good, let them hear. It’ll teach that scrub outside that was eyeing you a thing or two about what he can’t have.

“Hngh- Baby, I’m gonna-”

Once you cum around his tongue, hips bucking wildly and clit catching on his nose as you ride his face, he thinks he’d be happy to die here if it was in-between your legs. 

A final peck to your quivering cunt - not a goodbye, no, he’ll be seeing this pretty pussy again - but a prelude for what was to come. 

Amidst heated kisses, he lets you taste yourself on his tongue as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. Fucking trousers - they come with too many fucking buttons. He wants to feel you now. Have your wet cunt pulsing around his painfully hard cock as he gets drunk off of your pretty moans.

So he does.

He only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but already feels like he’ll fucking pass out. He teases your entrance - willing himself to wait like he did all these past few months. This won’t be the last time - he knows - but he sure as hell is going to treat it like it is. 

“Tell me what you want, my sweet girl.” he huffs out, eyes boring into your dazed ones. Beautiful. You were always so beautiful.

“Please. I need you in me so bad.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Please, baby.”

Your lustful whimpers are what makes him snap. You were going to be the death of him. 

Fully sheathing himself in you, he fucks your pussy with a merciless cadence that has your nails digging into his shoulder at how painfully good you were stretched. Tight. So tight.

He feels himself losing his sanity as your cunt struggles to adjust to his size, walls clenching down on his throbbing erection. It’s animalistic - the way your pussy tries to suck him back in when he pulls out fully, only to ram inside you again.

“Shit- Pussy made jus’ for me. Only me.” he moans. 

One strong arm steadying himself on the counter, and the other with an almost-painful grip on your hip, he keeps up a pace that has his abs burning. Heavy balls stinging as they smack relentlessly against your ass. 

He bites down on your exposed neck to muffle the strangled groans ripping from his throat at the ethereal feel of your snug cunt - he needs to better drink in your fucked out yelps at his harsh thrusts.

His dick twitches inside when you start whining out his name as you reach closer and closer to your climax. He could do this forever. You were heaven on Earth.

In his hazy mind, he distinctly registers the jingle of the doorknob. Annoying fuckers can’t take a hint.

“Fuck off.” he barks out, “I’m fuckin’ my future wife in here.”

His heart clenches as you push your face into the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Pulling you closer to him in response - strings of slick and precum connecting you to him - he hopes whoever’s there up above strikes him down if he doesn’t wife you up. 

Ah…he’s so close.

There isn’t even a hair’s breadth between your two bodies as he fucks into you mindlessly, not even a trace of thought for the poor soul on the other side of the door. He’s got more important things to do - you.

“Baby- Shit. I’m so close.” your exhausted mewls are music to his ears. His balls tighten and cock aches for release. 

Teeth clenched and brows furrowed at how your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly, he grits out “Me too, my girl. Me too.”

Your legs tighten around his toned waist as your cunt clamps down on his thick length - sending both of you over the edge. 

He sees stars as he cums. Thick ropes painting your walls white and shaky whimpers of your name leaving his mouth like a prayer. You really were heaven on Earth.

Cum drips down the side when he slows down to shallow grinds of his hips, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he pulls his sensitive cock out of you.

With a long finger, he gathers the cum now slowly dripping out of you. Pooling it at his fingertips before popping them into his mouth, half-lidded eyes looking right into your fucked out ones. He moans around them as if tasting a delicacy, elated at the way your mouth drops in disbelief at his lewd act. 

He feels barely lucid as he snaps your panties back on you with a devilish grin and tucks himself back into his trousers. 

Unlocking the door to pointed looks he couldn’t care less about, he can’t keep his eyes off the alluring curve of your hips as you walk away back to the party - pretending like his cum isn’t making a mess of your panties right now. 

Dick twitching to life again, he pulls out his phone - unblocking you once more. 

– GOJO, Choso, Geto, Suna, ATSUMU, KUROO, Oikawa, Sakusa, JEAN, EREN

A/N. …Gimme a min I’m cooking up something for Suguru…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[6esiree]

Accidentally Sending Them Your Nudes

Imagine sending Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Adam, and Vox your nudes on accident?

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, Swearing, They all make poor choices and take matters into their own hands, literally—they jack off to you. Lucifer’s and Adam’s parts mention videos instead of nudes. There’s some angst in there + I decided to do a quick reaction before the actual details.

Alastor:

Why did technology have to be so complicated? That’s what Alastor wondered as he pulled his phone out of his breast pocket, the wretched thing interrupting his dinner with Rosie with all the vibrating it was doing. Unfortunately, he never figured out how to silence it, and he didn’t plan to do anything about it out of sheer stubbornness.

“Is it alright if I take this?” Alastor asked Rosie, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Oh, no! It’s no problem with me, darling” Rosie said, putting her fork down and waving him off. “Go on, now—it may be somethin’ important!”

Alastor chuckled, getting up from his seat and pushing it back into the table before making his way to a more private area: the restroom. What a wise choice he had made, especially as he opened what you’d sent him, whatever irritation he previously felt vanishing almost instantaneously. Alastor hardly ever spoke to you, so he was definitely taken aback.

“Hope u like them, daddy Xx.”

——————

Knock, knock, knock!—a hushed curse seeped through Alastor’s lips, his forehead plastered against the cold bathroom tile as his fist eagerly stroked his weeping cock. The man couldn’t answer the rapping at the door, not with his belt unbuckled and his pants unfastened, the series of lewd photos you had mistakenly sent driving him to do something so…uncharacteristic of himself. But, fuck, you had such a pretty cunt.

“Is everything alright with you, Alastor?” Rosie’s voice penetrated the thin, wooden barrier, the only thing preserving his dignity. “You’ve been in there for quite a while.”

You had warned Alastor just a minute too late, your missed calls stacking up in his notifications as he stared at a photo of you in a compromising position. What a whorish thing you had done, but how could he have resisted the sight of your glistening, wet cunt spread apart by your dainty fingers, practically begging whomever you had meant that for to breed your hole?

“I believe there was…something in our food that made me fall ill,” Alastor responded weakly, his fist coming to a halt, making his cock throb in disappointment. “Feel free to leave if you’d like—I’m afraid I’ll be stuck here for a little bit longer.”

The silence Alastor was met with was nerve-wracking, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to stifle his labored breaths while he waited for Rosie to say something—anything. Eventually, she did, a disappointed ‘Oh, alright’ gracing his ears, the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway his cue to continue with his ministrations. Alastor felt so relieved, but also utterly weak over his lack of self-restraint.

“Hey, uh, if you’re listening to this, call me back,” A voicemail suddenly played from his phone, but all he could focus on was the desperation in your voice, his knees buckling as he neared the edge. “Please, Al. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Cum spilled through the gaps between his fingers at the sound of your plea, dripping down and staining the tips of his recently-polished shoes. Alastor did not let up on his cock, however, bracing himself on the wall. A strangled groan escaped his throat as he stroked himself to overstimulation. In his twisted mind, that’s what he deserved for abandoning Rosie to jack off in a public restroom to lewd pictures of you.

Lucifer:

With an annoyed sigh, Lucifer pulled his phone from his back pocket, wondering who could be contacting him late at night. Downing whatever was left of his drink, he spotted your name in his notifications as his lock screen lit up, blinking in confusion. Out of all the residents in his daughter’s hotel, he interacted with you the least.

“Want anotha one?” Husk asked him as he grabbed his empty glass, cleaning it.

“Uhh, hold on for just a sec,” Lucifer said, unlocking his phone to see what you possibly needed from him.

Husk merely grunted in response, turning away from him to tend to somebody else. And oh, was Lucifer grateful for that, a blush creeping up his neck as he was met by the sight of something so…filthy. Underneath several short, boring texts that consisted of pleasantries, you sent him a video and the first interesting thing you’d ever told him.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about u <3.”

——————

God, did Lucifer feel depraved as he pressed the replay button on the video you had mistakenly sent him for the fifth time that night. While the true essence of your breathy moans and your squelching cunt were muffled by the putrid static his phone emanated, they were still audible enough to have Lucifer scrambling to his room, freeing himself from the confines of his pants with a gratified sigh as he lay in bed.

“Fuck, I know you didn’t mean to send this to me,” Lucifer whispered, slowly smearing his precum down the expanse of his cock as he shakily held his phone. “But I just couldn’t help myself—please forgive me.”

But what use was Lucifer’s plea for forgiveness when he was locked away in his room? He bit his lip, guilt enveloping his heart as your texts poured in, obscuring the part where you teasingly circled your clit through the thin lace of your panties. Still, instead of responding to you, Lucifer put his phone on airplane mode, the video already saved in his gallery. How wicked of him.

“Yes, show me that pretty little pussy,” Lucifer panted, his cock excitedly jumping in his hand as you tucked the fabric into the inside of your thigh, revealing your wet cunt. “Good girl—fuuuck.”

He thrusted up into his hand, imagining it was his cock pushing past your folds when you plunged two fingers inside of your hole. Lucifer had never thought about you that way before—well, until now of course. He wouldn’t be able to look at you the same, and that’s exactly what you must have feared, he thought as he picked up the pace, tossing his head back into his pillow.

“Lucifer, are you there?” He suddenly heard your voice penetrate the door, but how could he answer it when he was so close to finishing? “Husk told me you were here—come on, I just need to make sure you didn’t receive—it’s about something important.”

By placing his phone against his ear, Lucifer managed to drown out the sound of your knuckles desperately rapping at the door, your virtual cries of ecstasy sending him over the edge. Oh, how he wished he could have watched your cunt flutter around your fingers, or the way your cum dripped down your ass as you pulled them out. But Lucifer would have to do that after he dealt with the real you…including his newfound shame.

Husk:

Before Husk headed out to the bar, he emphasized that he wanted to be left alone, only taking his phone in case of an emergency. Husk wasn’t an asshole, he just wanted to spend what little free time Alastor spared him to do the things he enjoyed, especially without feeling suffocated. But, of course, someone had to disrupt his peace.

“Gotta be fuckin’ shittin me,” Husk sighed as his phone vibrated on the table, the contents of his drink moving along with it.

“Better be somethin’ important,” He mumbled.

Turning over his phone, Husk lifted a brow as he saw a few texts from you sitting in his notifications. None of them communicated any sort of urgency, but he liked you, so he decided to see what was it that you wanted. Husk blinked, the blush on his face accentuated by the alcohol in his system as he stared at something unexpected.

“Look at what u do to me...”

——————

Slumped against the furthest booth of a dimly-lit bar, Husk palmed himself through his pants. ‘Nobody’s looking at you,’ he told himself, yet his eyes continued to dart to nearby patrons as he held his phone below the table. The sleazy tendencies he thought he had abandoned long ago were awoken by a mere picture of your cunt, and with the whiskey clouding his judgment, Husk couldn’t help but indulge himself.

“Christ, is this what ya been hidin’ underneath those baggy clothes?” Husk groaned, taking in the sight of you sprawled on your bed, legs parted and cunt on full display. “So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

In his drunken haze, Husk couldn’t believe that you’d mistakenly sent him these photos, not even as your texts poured in, his thumb casting all of them aside except for one. The phrase ‘I made a mistake,’ stared back at him, and the longer Husk held the notification as he unzipped his pants, the sleazier he felt. In his defense—no, nothing could justify his actions. Nothing at all.

“No wonder I was damned for eternity,” Husk sighed, releasing the notification and freeing his cock in the cold, musty environment that was this shitty rundown bar he had chosen. “Ah, fuck.”

With his eyes glued to your wet, puffy cunt, the inside of your thighs glistening with your juices, Husk surrendered himself to the sight of you as he slowly pumped his cock. How many times had you made yourself cum? He wondered, scrolling to the next photo—oh, your breasts were in this one, and they were so pretty. Husk let out a grunt, feeling one of his suspenders slip off his shoulder as he picked up the pace.

“You’re probably busy drinking right now, but when you see this, give me a call,” It was another text of yours, a curse seeping past his lips as he read it. “Please, Husk…it’s important.”

Yeah, Husk wouldn’t be calling you back, at least not until he was sober. He feared that if he responded to you right now, he’d admit to jacking off to you, or worse, he’d admit to envying whomever was supposed to have seen you in such a crude display in the first place. Husk’s mouth fell open with a long groan, grateful for the music blaring in the background as cum cascaded down his fist. And despite his guilt, he kept your photos.

Adam:

Even though you worked with Adam five days a week, you kept contact to a minimal with him, especially when he started expressing interest in you. That’s why when you realized you accidentally texted him, you were absolutely horrified. But Adam? Oh, he was delighted to see your name in his notifications as he pulled out his phone.

“Hey, Lute, look after the girls while I take this!” Adam said, stepping away from the training grounds.

“Got it, sir,” Lute simply said, her obedience something Adam admired.

You had taken the day off, so Adam wondered what is it that you needed. Maybe you missed him? Yeah, probably, because you never contacted him outside of work. He opened your texts, his breath hitching in his throat as he realized you had sent him a video, referring to him with a pet name instead of ‘Adam.’

“Hi baby, sorry I kept u waiting for so long.”

——————

In a flurry of feathers, Adam left the training grounds, locking himself away in his office with his phone clutched tightly against his chest. There was no way you had mistakenly sent him a video of your nude body, right? You were Adam’s assistant, and he swore there was some tension simmering between the two of you, this supposed accident being your silly little way of admitting your attraction to him.

“So that’s why you took the day off, huh?” Adam huffed, practically tossing himself onto his swivel chair as he hastily undid his robes. “Sick my fucking ass.”

How many times had you rejected Adam? One, two, three—far too many times for him to think that you were playing hard to get, but his ego was just that big. That and his cock, which pulsated at the sight of your hand slowly dipping underneath the waistband of your panties, the outline of your dainty fingers running through your folds. God, you were such a tease.

“That should be me touching you,” Adam muttered, squeezing the base of his cock, precum dripping down the head. “Fuck, maybe tomorrow…”

You tried to call Adam, but all you did was interrupt the moment you lowered your panties, your contact popping up on his screen an utter inconvenience. Decline—his thumb didn’t even hesitate, putting his phone on Do Not Disturb as he resumed the video. Adam stroked his weeping cock with a renewed fervor when he finally saw your glistening cunt, so, so eager to be filled.

“Oh, you’re really gonna get it, baby,” Adam panted, his brows knitted in concentration as he watched you plunge your fingers into your slick hole. “What a greedy fucking pussy.”

You wanted him, you actually wanted him—that’s what Adam tried to convince himself as he finally came, even after you moaned out somebody else’s name at the end of the video. ‘Fuck, what have I done?’ He sighed, trying to ignore the feeling of rejection that threatened to envelop him during his post-nut clarity. As Adam reached for a tissue to clean himself, he secretly hoped that you had done this strictly for monetary reasons.

Vox:

When it came to Vox’s love life, it was virtually nonexistent, filled with possessive sex and mind-numbing arguments. So what did he do? He sought you out, a private escort who had a reputation for filling the emptiness in sinners hearts. Yeah, you dealt in the carnal stuff too, but that’s not what Vox hired you for.

“Hey, baby, my eyes are up here,” Valentino said, placing his elbows on the table, leaning in as Vox pulled out his phone.

“Yeah, I’m well aware of that, Val,” Vox replied dryly, his interest piqued as he saw several of your texts sitting in his notifications.

While Vox paid you the most out of all your clients, he still couldn’t take up most of your schedule, either. There were two days out of the week that you spent elsewhere, and you just happened to be contacting him during one of them. Vox’s heart jumped at that, but then he saw what you’d sent him, inspiring some hope in him.

“Maybe it’s time for something more Xx.”

——————

Thump!—Vox cursed, spilling his drink all over himself as his knee hit up into the table. What a goddamn inconvenience that was, but not for him, no. He used it as an excuse to escape the long overdue, monthly date Valentino had forced him to attend, anxious to deal with the issue in his pants…including the photos you had mistakenly sent him just a second earlier, paying no attention to the ‘Oops’ underneath them.

“Fuck, doll. You finally came to your senses, huh?” Vox groaned, locking himself away in the furthest stall, his fingers shakily unbuckling his belt. “About time…”

While you were a private escort, the attention you provided Vox was just too good for it to be strictly professional; and he clung onto it like a lifeline, abandoning Valentino for you even when he was in the mood for sex. Goosebumps littered his skin as he recalled your fleeting touches, even though they had never dared to visit the area between his legs.

“Ah, fuck,” Vox sighed as he freed his cock, precum dripping down into the crevices between his fingers as he stared at your wet, puffy cunt. “Can’t believe I’ve been missing this all along.”

Vox imagined that it was your dainty hands wrapped around his cock, your chest pressed against his back instead of the cold steel door of the restroom stall as you slowly pumped him. If Vox simply paid you, he wouldn’t have to use his imagination. However, he wanted you to pleasure him without the promise of money, because then that would mean that you wanted him.

“Hey, baby, I know you saw what I sent you,” A voicemail of yours suddenly played out loud, his heart jumping at the sound of your voice. “You know they weren’t for you, right? It was an accident.”

‘An accident? No, it couldn’t be,’ Vox thought, a groan escaping his throat as he finally came, his cum staining the tile between his feet. While he felt relieved, it was only for a bit, the disappointment quickly settling in his stomach soon after. But it wasn’t until Vox cleaned himself up and replayed your voicemail that he accepted he was just another one of your clients. Valentino was the best he’d get when it came to love.

[evie-sturns]

open up - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after a long day of matt basically ignoring you, and being too grumpy to even get out of bed, you finally get him to open up to you.

contains: crying, anggstt?.., boyfriend!matt, comforting, fluff.

----------------------------------------------------------

10:28am

"matt we have to go baby, chris nick and i are all going to the cafe." i say softly, ruffling matts messy hair.

hes refused to get out of bed this whole morning, hes woken up in a horrible, grumbly mood.

i stand beside matt's bed, his body intertwined in the tangled duvet.

he shakes his head with a groan, i let out a soft sigh. "matt, they're waiting for us."

"bro- just tell 'm that i dont wanna come." matt croaks out, i furrow my eyebrows at the new nickname he has for me.

i fold my arms, letting out a small huff. "alright, ill be back in a couple hours." i mumble.

matt nods, tugging the blanket back up over his body.

i walk out of the room, closing the door behind me.

what is going on with him?

-----

(3 hours later)

its now 1pm, i decide to go check on matt again.

i sit up off the couch and walk down the hallway towards matt and i's room.

i approach the closed white door, knocking twice before slowly pushing it open.

all i see is a large lump under the covers, which must be matt.

i walk over to the side of the bed before peeling back the sheets. matt’s on his phone, lazily scrolling.

“hey, you okay?” i ask, running my hands through his hair.

he nods his head with a small hum,

“matt i’m a bit worried about you sweetie, you’re never like this.” i sigh,

“don’t be worried.” he mutters, still endlessly scrolling through his phone.

“you’ve not left our house in a solid week, that’s not like you.” i state,

matt tenses, putting his phone down next to him.

“i’m just tired okay!?” matt attempts to raise his voice, but it comes out as croaked and weak.

“shh- sh.” i attempt to shush him, which he doesn’t react well to.

“don’t shush me! can you just leave i’m so done with this-“

matt sounds like a whiny teenager, i feel like his mom, trying to get him to open the curtains for the first time in years.

“get up.” i mutter, tugging the sheets off him.

he pushes my hand away, “i don’t want to.”

i scoff, “matt stop, stop acting like an actual child!” i raise my voice slightly, trying to get my point across.

“can you please just leave me alone?!” matt groans,

i sigh, no longer trying to wrestle him to get the sheets off him.

i sit down on the bed beside him, i’m sat up against the headboard.

we sit in silence for a few minutes.

matt’s breathing is laboured, he’s getting so irritated by everything i do.

“what’s going on matt.” i whisper, reaching out and running my fingers up his temple.

“it’s just- i’m trying to sleep and you keep coming in here and fucking annoying me-“

matt’s sentence is cut off by his voice cracking,

“i’m- i’m sorry- i don’t mean that.”

tears start to roll down his flushed cheeks,

i’ve never seen matt cry.

i sit him up against the headboard next to me, i grab his shoulder and tug him to my chest.

“it’s okay, i’m not mad at you.” i coo, pressing kisses to the top of his head

he nods, his small sniffles turn into full sobs.

“do you wanna open up and talk to me about it?” i ask softly, running my nails up his back.

matt nods through his strangled sobs,

“i’m so- confused.” matt manages to squeeze out.

i nod, lifting the back of his shirt up and dragging my nails up his bare back.

“i don’t understand why- why you put up with me“ he sobs,

“and i know i sound like an absolute pick me saying that, but you’re just an- an infinitely better person than me.” matt speaks, rubbing his eyes with his fists,

“i feel like i’m not a fun person to be around- and you’re the total opposite like, everybody likes you-?”

i nod, letting him spill his words out.

“literally just being around you and knowing how you are in comparison to me makes me feel so shit.” he mumbles,

“the feeling i get in my stomach, it’s so bad.” he sniffs,

“i’m sorry- i genuinely sound like such a attention seeker.” matt half laughs.

i continue to stroke his back, he frantically tries to wipe his eyes everytime a new tear falls.

“you’re allowed to cry, i’m right here.” i whisper,

he nods, soft crys falling from his lips as he buries his face further into the soft fabric of my shirt.

“you know i love you so much, honestly i think i’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.” i sigh,

he shakes his head, “that’s not true.”

“it is, you make me feel so safe, you’re honestly my bestfriend ever.” i tell him, my voice full of sincerity.

matt’s crying gets worse as he hears me talk, his hands clutching my shirt, his brown floppy locks spread across my shirt.

i let him express everything he’s been feeling, letting him cry.

i think matt bottles a lot of shit up, and every couple months it all comes out in sudden bursts like these.

“i love you, i don’t want you to ever feel like this.” i sigh,

“you can tell me anything, anytime.”

matt nods again, slowly peeling himself away from my chest.

his eyes are red and puffy, his lips are swollen and his hair is sticking up in 8 different directions.

i laugh slightly, “sorry-“

a grin grows on matt’s face as he attempts to fix his hair.

“oh- oh, your making it worse.” i giggle,

i reach a hand up and try to flatten his hair,

“you’re gonna flatten it!! i’m gonna look like a pancake.” matt laughs hysterically,

“i’m a trained hairstylist, if anything i’ll make it 10x better!!” i protest.

—-

@starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l l l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll l @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour r @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnn n @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya a @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmelbaesunpostre @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise se e @sturni0l0tripletzz z 0 @ratatioulle @sturnsforlife v @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos s @downbad4reid @strniololoverr @obvisturns

@ellizzyy @colorthecosmos444 @mattspolitank @sturnblog @gabssturniolo @mattstromboli @sierrraaaasturn @milliegvrl @sturniolo-wife @ilovecats0402 @zayyluvz @urfavmattgal @eyelovedher89 @ireadstoriss @princesseva @edgemaster696 @itztimeeee @savvyratatouille @yourmama1 @kaisturni @angel4matt @arianatheway @mattsfavbigtitties @livelovelaughlanadelray @iheartblueyesxoxo @gloomy-ghoulz @megamorgan44 @stasiesturn @sturnzyolo @enemiestolovershoe @yomamaslays4lyfe @sturniolostrawberry @lizzysmith110 @jetaimevous @sturniolotripletsfandom @m4rriii @mayax2o07 @stellasturnzz @venusxsturnio @ana-sofia00 @flouqiis @lovekaiya @stayingstromboli @sturniolo-luv @theyluvme-2315 @annedebeijer @ashleysturn @flouqiis @bellaloves-drpepper @tpvmz @mattsbrowser @sturnrn @starchrisnam @rafecameronsbitch @zosturns @ashlishes @skysturniolo @littlemisswhore @olivialovessturniolo @1c3b4th @jmendez04 @melschapstick @starsturniolos

[ang3l0fthursday]

author note: i couldn’t come up with a name!

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: first time with matt😴

warnings: | p in v | first time together but NOT virginity loss | sub! matt x soft dom!reader | no use of y/n | slight overstimulation? | riding | hand job |

lmk if i missed anything! (pretty please!)

word count: 1.5k

matt is blue

reader is pink

you and matt had been dating for around a month now, you were both comfortable with each other but everything was still very new.very new.

you had yet to be intimate, sure there was kissing and making out but nothing passed clothes.

it’s not that you hadn’t ever done anything, you have experience, not a lot but enough to know what you were doing.

—— first person

matt and i were watching a movie, i had tuned out what it was, deciding to go on my phone instead. matt had switched back and forth, ultimately deciding on his phone

“this movie kinda sucks huh” matt sighed, his hand that was wrapped under my lower back started mindlessly stroking my side

“i wouldn’t know i quit paying attention a long time ago” i laughed

he simply smiled before lowering his head down to meet me, his lips landed on mine in a soft kiss

i leaned up slightly to get a better angle and matt’s hand slipped to the back of my head, pushing me into kissing him deeper

his hand left my head and made its way under the bend of my knee, bringing me forward onto his lap

i pulled away and simply smiled before leaning back in for another kiss

i adjusted my hips, making matt let out a groan

i pulled away to look at him with a curious look, his cheeks flushed in a soft apple-y color

i moved my hips again shyly

matt’s eyelashes fluttered shut and his breath hitched

my hands found their way to the sides of his face and pulled him back in for yet another kiss

i slowly started to move my hips back and forth across his length

matt let out soft noises against my lips

holy fuck.

i let a hand slip down to his waistband

“can i?”

i hadn’t stopped my movements so he struggled out an “uh huh”

his eyes were shut tight and his mouth hung open as i slipped my hand below both his sweatpants, and boxers waistband

i shuffled back slightly, allowing myself room

“sit up a little for me baby”

he pushed himself up a little, while he did so his hands gripped tight down beside him

“thank you baby.. are you sure?”

“i’m sure”

i pulled his length out of his boxers, hesitating a little at his size

“you’re so big matty” i giggled

he grabbed the neckline of my shirt, pulling me into him, and placing his lips on mine. as he did so i stroked slightly up his length, he shuddered underneath me.

my hand slowly started speeding up, grazing over his tip

he let out a whine when i let go

“come here baby”

he leant forward and i grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head

“don’t wanna messy up one of your shirts do we?”

he simply shook his head, i grabbed his length again and his head flew back when my thumb when over his slit. he let out a strangled moan and i tilted his face forwards me while i started stroking him faster

he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me forward, his forehead laid down on my shoulder and his whimpers and moans got louder.

“fuck m-“ he started, before going silent again

oh?

“what was that matty?”

“fuck mama f-feels so good”

his arms gripped tighter around me, he bucked his hips up

“shh it’s okay matty”

he panted and panted and i stayed the same pace, not wanting to change the way he was feeling.

“please- please please oh- my god!”

“please what matty?”

“fuck don’t stop”

“i wasn’t gonna baby”

he lifted his head up to kiss me before laying his head in the crook of my neck, he bit down only slightly before bucking his hips up again

“i’m so close please don’t stop- fuck oh my god”

“shhh it’s okay matty you’re doing so good”

he bucked his hips up one last time before white spurts flooded out of him and onto his chest

he panted and whimpered and i slowly let off of his pretty cock,

as soon as i let go he pulled me in for a kiss, the kiss felt as though it was filled with more. with want.

before the kiss ended i felt something at my pants, i let go of him and looked down to see his soft fingers tugging at my pants

i looked to his face to see him already looking up at me in a sort of plea

“please”

“what’s wrong matty?”

“want you to feel good too mama”

i glanced down at his length to see he was already hard again

oh.

“okay” i smiled

“are you sure?” he asked, his demeanor changing as if there was no way i’d agree

“of course matt, i promise you im sure”

i kissed him before standing and pulling down both my bottoms and my panties, as well as my shirt. After, i pulled matt’s pants and boxers down all the way off of him and threw them next to my own clothes.

i got back on the bed and hovered above matt’s lap

i pecked his lips before grabbing his cock and moving his tip in a line through my folds.

he gasped slightly as his head leaned back and his jaw went limp

i slowly slid down his length and he immediately let out a loud moan.

i settled in and breathed before slowly shifting my hips causing matt to whimper out loudly

“shit! oh my god”

i sped up my movements,matt’s arms went to wrap around my waist and i wrapped my own around his head, bringing him into my chest.

he panted into my breasts as i moved my hips back and forth. i could feel his length pulse inside of me

“f-fuck im so s-sensitive” he whimpered into my chest

“it’s okay matty- fuck!”

i couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, he just feels so good.

“god you belong inside me matty”

“fuck- mama i’m close”

“not yet matt you can hold out for me can’t you?”

he nodded his head against me and bucked his hips up. he moaned out, begging for his release

“fuck please mama please i need to- to cum so bad please”

“im almost there matt hold on”

i sped up my hip movements, my clit bumped against his skin, causing me to let out a loud noise

everything was so tight inside of me, i clenched down onto his cock and threw my head back.

“fuck cum with me matty”

as soon as i uttered those words i felt him cum inside me, i clenched down unintentionally from the wave of pleasure that came over me, my mouth hanging open silently

matt on the other hand was being anything but quiet, he moaned and whimpered incoherently, i could only make out quiet curses and he slowed his movements, as did i.

i kept my eyes closed as i calmed my breathing

i carded my hands through his soft hair for a minute before kissing his head and going to pull off of him. As i tried doing so he held his arms around me tighter

“i gotta get off matty” i giggled

“just- just give me a minute” he spoke through deep breaths and pants

“okay matty” i smiled and kissed his head a bunch before wrapping my arms around his head once more

i waited a few more seconds, and as i was about to ask matt why we wanted to wait to pull out, i felt him move in my core and shuffle slightly

“matt? are you h-“

“uh huh” he admitted shyly

he was hard. again.

“please ma one more- just one more”

he faded out of his sentence as he kept moving my hips down onto his

he lifted my hips up his length before slamming me back down onto him

“fuck! matt- oh my god!”

his hands made no attempt at pausing as he sped up his movements on his cock

“oh shit matt”

i felt like i was in bliss. the way his hands gripped at my sides, the way his cock fluttered inside me, and the way he whimpered and moaned my name.

i suddenly noticed that matt had been doing all the work this time so i grabbed his hands and placed them together, holding them down on his chest and moving my hips and the same rhythm that matt had already set. my face was inches from his, his face looked so pretty with his eyebrows knitted and his jaw slack

“god- fuck! mama you make me feel so good- i’m so close oh my god”

“me too baby- fuck” i muttered under my breath before i snapped my hips forward a little quicker then i had before, and at that- matt struggled out a moan and came inside me, my walls fluttered down onto him and the band in my core snapped with his

matt’s hips twitched and kept bucking up as we both came down from our highs together,

he panted before kissing my neck and biting down, holding back one last whimper.

he panted against my neck before pulling back and just looking at me as i took my own deep breaths

he smiled giddily and just giggled. his hand came up and slipped my hair behind my ear and pulled me in for a kiss

i pulled away, “do you think chris or nick heard?”

[jji-lee]

he likes your tits .

(MINORS DNI)

haechan x reader , nipple play , breast play , overuse of the word baby , unprotected sex (stay safe) , riding , basically hyuck just likes ur tits , creds to this request !

haechan looked the prettiest like this, back up against the headboard, hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed. he looked up at you through his lashes, a pout on his lips.

“why’d you stop?”

you giggled as you looked down at him from your seat on his lap. your hands coming up to push his hair back, revealing his forehead,

“just wanted to get a good look at you hyuck.”

“well that's enough looking, come here baby.”

he pulled you down by your shirt, hand coming up to gently hold your neck as he placed his lips on yours. his lips were soft, his teeth coming out occasionally to bite your lip. hyuck was good with his tongue, licking and sucking every crevice of your mouth.

goosebumps rose on your skin as his hands came up under your shirt to play with your tits. his cold fingers teasing the sensitive nub. he removed his lips from yours, moving his hands to pull up your shirt.

“fuck baby take this off, i wanna see you.”

you helped him take your shirt off, arms immediately coming up to cover your breasts, shy under his gaze. his hands came up to move your arms, a soft tut leaving his lips,

“stop that, i said i wanna see you.”

as soon as you moved your arms his head dipped down to taste you. he kissed and sucked along your chest leaving light marks on his way down to your nipples. he lapped at the sensitive bud, swirling his tongue around it. you moaned at the sight of haechan desperately licking your breast, hands coming up to pull on his hair,

“fuck hyuck you look so pretty like this.”

he chuckled, looking up at you and smiling wide so you could see your nipple trapped in between his teeth. you gasped feeling him gently bite down, teasing you. your fingers gripped his hair tighter, tugging him away from your breast.

“as much as i love seeing you like this, i might go insane if you don’t fuck me right now."

you held onto his shoulders as you lifted yourself from his lap, but his hands held you in place, tight against your hips.

"like this, lets do it like this baby, ride me, please?"

he looked up at you with pleading eyes, the pout on his lips turning into a smirk as you nodded quickly. you kept your hips raised as he pulled down his boxers, thick cock springing free, the tip pink and shiny. he groaned as you held him in your hand, using your thumb to press down gently on the head, watching as the precum stuck to your finger, before bringing it up to your lips to taste.

"shit baby, don't tease me, come here."

you scooted forward on your knees, hovering over his length, watching as he lined himself up against your entrance. he slid along your folds collecting your juices, stopping at your clit to rub against it gently. you bit you lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to spill.

"now you're teasing, stop it."

you swatted his hand away, replacing it with your own as you guided it back to your entrance, slowly sinking down. you weren't even half way before you felt that familiar burn, choosing to lift your hips again, slowly bouncing on his tip.

"oh my god baby, fuck, feels so good. look at how wet you are baby, look."

you hid you face in hyuck's neck, embarrassed to see your juices coating his length. haechan placed his hands on your hips, fingers digging into your skin,

"i'm sorry baby, i'm sorry, i can't wait anymore. not enough."

you threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut, as a strangled moan escaped your mouth. haechan pushed your hips down roughly, his cock deep inside you.

"shit, oh my, baby, fuck, baby, you're so tight, fuck fit s' good, like you were made for me."

all you could do was moan as you felt haechan's grip on your hips tighten, holding you in placed as he thrusted up into you. you opened your eyes to watch him under you. his lips were in between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes focused straight on your tits, watching as they bounced with each thrust. you threaded your fingers through his hair pulling him towards your chest. his eyes rolled back as he latched onto your nipple, savoring the feeling of you in his mouth. your free hand sneaked down to your core, your fingers gently working into your clit as haechan pistoned into you.

"hyuck, hyuck, i'm gonna, shit hyuck!"

you felt yourself come undone, slightly riding out your high before, jerking your hand away from your core, overstimulation too much to handle. but haechan didn't care, his movements relentless as he worked to reach his high. you dug your face into his neck, whimpering at the sensitivity.

"fuck-"

he moved his neck away from you,

"look at me, look baby, play with your tits, fuck, i'm so close, baby please."

you moved away from his neck, your hands coming up to grope your breasts, using your fingers to circle your nipples. you gasped at the sensitivity, your walls tightening around him.

"shitttt y/n, fuck mama, you're so hot, keep doing that, i'm so, fuck, i'm so close."

his eyes were trained on your tits, mouth slightly open as his tongue peeked out.

he sat up straighter, hand wrapping around your back to pull your chest against his. you could feel his breath against your neck small whimpers coming out of his mouth as he came inside of you.

"fuck baby, fuckkkk, so fucking good for me, so good."

he let out a sigh as he laid back against the headboard, chest shiny with sweat. you giggled as he winced from the sensitivity, pulling out of you, cum dripping out of your core and onto his tummy.

he looked up at you dazed,

"babe have i ever told you how much i love your tits?"

he might've mentioned it once or twice.

[distantdarlings]

HIS OWN MEDICINE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your core pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt delicious inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

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[hazbinwhoree]

ADAM WITH A HEAVY BREEDING KINK WHEN???

Come Inside

Part 1/2 Part 2

A/N: This shit is absolutely sinful.

Adam’s breeding kink, much like his virginity kink, was rooted in his abandonment issues.

Normally, (Name) would feel a need to address that (therapy friend), but she couldn’t really care when he was inside of her, fucking her like he hated her.

Adam’s sex drive never failed to impress her. They’d already had sex that morning, and they were just watching a movie when suddenly he was on her again.

“Adam,” she giggled as he sucked on her neck. “We literally had sex two hours ago.”

“Not my fault you’re so fuckin’ sexy, babe,” Adam said against her neck. He continued marking her, one hand slipping under her shirt and fondling her breast, and one hand travelling down to rub between her legs over her sweatpants.

(Name) moaned. Adam removed his face from her neck and connected their lips in a passionate kiss. (Name) slipped her fingers under the base of Adam’s mask and pulled back. She looked at him, the question in her eyes. Can I? Adam nodded after a moment.

(Name) pulled his mask up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. (Name) smiled, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head forward to kiss him again. Adam kissed back with vigor, forcing his tongue into her mouth.

The hand fondling her breast pinched her nipple, and the hand that was rubbing between her legs suddenly slipped under her sweatpants and panties.

(Name) gasped, throwing her head back. Adam licked down the column of her neck. He slid two slender fingers into her, and (Name)’s breathing became heavier. He scissored his fingers experimentally before adding a third.

(Name) sighed, her head falling forward and resting her forehead against Adam’s.

Adam didn’t spend long loosening her up before shedding his own pants and boxers. (Name) began to tug her sweatpants down until Adam got impatient and yanked both her sweatpants and panties down to her ankles. (Name) kicked them off.

Adam sat down on the couch, manspreading and showing off his dick. “Come here, baby,” he patted his lap. (Name) crawled over and into his lap, his erection pressing against her pussy. She briefly realized they both still had their shirts on.

Adam seemed to realize it too. “We’re fucking like Winnie the Pooh.”

(Name) giggled, but it quickly became a quiet moan when Adam squeezed her tits, swiping his thumbs over her nipples. She ground down against his dick and they both moaned. She raised herself on her knees to allow Adam to line himself up with her opening.

Once he did, she sank down, letting out a gasp as he stretched her once again. “Ride it,” Adam demands, grabbing her ass. (Name) did, for about a minute, before her pace slowed down as her legs got tired. Adam got impatient, squeezing her ass and thrusting up into her, fast and hard.

It caught (Name) off guard, who cried out. She held onto his shoulders like her life depended on it, as Adam fucked her like he was mad at her.

So was his pace usually.

Tears brimmed at the corners of (Name)’s eyes. “Fuck,” she hissed. Adam stared at her intently. “Yeah? Does this feel good, babygirl?” (Name) whined. She loved when Adam talked during sex, he was always so dirty.

“Is my cock filling your pussy just right? God you’re so hot, you make me want to put a baby in you.” (Name) gasped, nearly reaching her peak. “Gonna cum so deep inside you.”

(Name) came, clenching around Adam’s dick. His thrusts slowed as she squeezed him, the tightness pushing him over the edge. He snapped his hips upwards, burying himself to the hilt, and came inside of her.

(Name)’s stomach grew warm. She panted, moving to get off of Adam, but he grabbed her hips and pushed her back down on his dick. (Name) let out a strangled moan, overstimulated. Adam held her in his lap, keeping her plugged with his cock.

“Can’t waste any of my cum,” he told her, smirking. “I was serious. I’m gonna put a fucking baby in you.”

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss him with chocolate lips

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @biillys

word count: 1,837

warnings: swearing, some sexual references/themes, allusions to sexy adult things, play-fighting, reader and billy being in love and that love language is being little shits to each other (also acts of service), smooching and one use of the word saliva

synopsis: you decide to bake cookies, and billy decides he must be included, but you’d never let your cookies perish in return for an insatiable man.

a/n: hii!! i came up with a few lines of dialogue for billy a little bit ago, and then they just sat in my notes app because i couldn’t think of what to do with them. halfway through writing this, something i wanted to be sweet and silly, i felt lost and didn’t know how to end it or where to go with it, and started looking for inspiration. but then it came to me! and i’m very happy with how this turned out. i hope you like it! happy reading <33

————

Your hands are buried wrist deep in cookie dough, because you got sick of the shitty spatula not doing its job. 

You keep folding it in and over itself, trying to get all the chocolate chips and dry ingredients properly combined. You feel like the cookies just don’t turn out right if you don’t get in there and make sure it’s the way it’s meant to be. 

You reach over and grab a handful of mini chips to toss in your mouth. You have this mixture of regular size ones, minis, and chunks that you swear by. 

“You missed the bowl.”

A pair of large, warm hands slide over your waist, pinkies grazing over that spot where your pelvis dips because they know that’s your ticklish spot and just want to see you squirm. 

“Fuck off, prick.”

Billy smiles into the soft and slightly sweaty skin of your neck, peppering kisses in a trail from your collarbone to your earlobe. You nudge him with your shoulder, trying to ward him off. 

He licks a stripe up the back of your neck. And if you weren’t making an effort to look annoyed by his presence, your eyes might’ve just rolled back into your head. 

Instead you let out a sort of strangled howl to emphasize your agony. You are busy, after all. Making cookies you know he’ll eat before you can have any for yourself. You’ll have to hide some this time. 

You elbow Billy in the stomach, but his hands never leave your hips. He’s chuckling lightly, enjoying every minute of teasing you and being the biggest nuisance he can be.

“I should castrate you,” you say, rubbing your nose with your forearm to avoid spreading cookie dough all over your face. 

Billy laughs into your neck, the tip of his nose cold against your warm skin. “Oh, but you like that part of me too much, baby.”

You scoff. “Dick.”

He places a finger on your chin so that you’ll meet his gaze. “Exactly.” 

“I hate you,” you say, your eyes boring into his and saying anything but. They’re practically twinkling just looking at him. 

He hooks another finger under your chin and coaxes you closer, “I know,” he smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that tastes like chocolate chips. 

The flavor being on his mouth makes you pull away in shock. You put your hands on your hips and feign being absolutely appalled and ashamed.

“You come in here, on my ass, when yours has been fillin’ up on chocolate for how long?” You raise up on your tippy toes, trying your best to get in his face. He bends slightly to make it easier for you. 

His gaze drags over each of your pretty features in that way he knows gives you goosebumps. “You think you just get to eat ‘em all or something?”

You press your hand to his chest. “I bought the damn things, Hargrove. And I think, as the woman making the cookies, I’m entitled to eat as many chocolate chips as I want.” 

Billy leans in again and kisses you, but this time it’s slow, too slow, and sensual. The kind that feels like it lasts forever but in reality was a few seconds. One that really should last forever. It makes your brain go all fuzzy.

He drags his hand up your spine and pulls back. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Your stomach flips, your blood rushing to all the important parts of your body because he knows just what buttons to push and you despise him for it. Cocky little shit. 

“Now look who can use his manners,” you say, your voice taking on a sing-songy lilt. Billy grins at you, biting his lip, and then returns to his place behind you. 

You both settle down, quieting and melting into each other's presence. Billy watches over your shoulder as you pour in more chocolate chips. He knows you always hate it when people cheat you out of your chocolate. 

“I need a tray, B, can you get one for me?”

He pats your ass and moves to the designated cabinet without answering. He rips out a sheet of parchment paper without you having to ask. You always say that the bottoms don’t burn as easily that way, or you quote something from a cooking show you watched on tv that morning. 

He brings the cookie sheet back to you and then pushes up so he’s sitting on the counter next to you, bare thighs pressing into the cold stone. 

You pass him the rest of the chocolate chips to snack on and bend to kiss his knee. He blushes. You’ve been together for a few years now, but each time you give him affection in small, uncommon ways, it makes him feel like teenage boy. 

Billy watches you separate the dough into even-ish chunks before sliding it all into the oven. He tilts his head back and tosses the rest of the chocolate chips into his mouth before hopping down from the counter. 

He grabs your hips when he sees you move toward the sink. “Uh, uh. Go sit, mama. I’ll take care of it.” He knows you’re going to push back, and before you can he picks you up and places you in the living room. 

You let out a small huff and walk right back to your starting point. There aren’t even that many dishes to wash anyway, but what’s the fun in cooperating with him?

“Billy.”

“Hm?” He’s squeezing soap all over the dishes you’d already pre-rinsed. 

“Go sit your pretty ass down and let me do this.” You hear him laugh over the sound of the tap running and roll your eyes. He feels it. And he ignores you, squeezing out a sponge. 

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull, trying to lift him up the way he had with you just moments before. You manage to heave him up just enough that his toes leave the tile and he cackles at your effort to be such an adorable irritant.

He looks at you over his shoulder, your brow creased in concentration, the tip of your tongue sticking out just slightly. “How’s that workin’ out for ya, princess?”

“It’s not my fault you’re so big and heavy and strong.”

His ego practically skyrockets, his brain picking out any bit of flattery you’ll offer him. 

“Big and strong, huh?”

You cross your arms and spin around, hiding your wide smile before he can catch a glimpse at it. At how pleased you are to have riled him up. You let out a little petulant “Hmph!” and start to pad away. You know what’s coming though, and you try to pick up speed before you can be captured. 

Billy’s arms are around your thighs in seconds. He’s managed to turn you around and lift you up, throwing you over your shoulder like it’s nothing, like this is a normal daily task. “I’ll show you big and strong, pretty baby.”

You beat playfully on his lower back, fighting off a fit of giggles. “Billy! Put me down motherfucker!” He’s laughing too, all too pleased with himself for being able to get you like this. 

He pulls you down so you’re hanging onto his front and starts maneuvering you onto the couch. Your every nerve ending lights up when you feel Billy’s hand at the crown of your head, cradling you as he sets you down. 

The gentle manner in which he handles you does not correlate to the way he kisses you. 

Billy settles between your legs, grabbing your arms and coaxing them around his neck. He’s giving you a job, giving you instructions, and it makes your brain go quiet. Honing in on him, and nothing else. He’s all you can see, all you can smell, all you’re capable of thinking about. 

One of his hands slips beneath your t-shirt and settles against the dip of your spine, allowing him to pull you upward, allowing him to mold your body to his without you even having to put in the effort to arch your back and meet him. 

The other slips into the hair at the base of your neck, fingernails scratching over your scalp to get the goosebumps going, the heel of his hand rubbing determinedly at your skin, massaging it and reveling in the heat radiating off of you. 

Each time you try to say something, Billy kisses you harder, laughing into your mouth. He’s getting sloppy, losing himself in the taste of chocolate and lip balm and you. 

He sucks on your bottom lip, nips at it with his teeth, and it makes you let out a small, quiet moan. Billy slaps your thigh and you pull his hair. He groans, loud and unashamed. He shoves his knee in between your legs, meets the hottest, softest part of you and—

The timer on the microwave goes off.

Your cookies are finished. 

You pull back from Billy’s warm mouth, because you can’t let your cookies burn. What kind of monster would you be, letting cookies perish for a man? Absolutely not. 

His lips are still in a pout and there’s a string of saliva connecting the both of you. 

Instead of laughing like you want, you groan, “Oh dear Christ, ew, Billy.”

While he’s processing that you just said “ew” to him, you slide out from underneath his arms and race to pull the finished cookies from the oven. 

You’re carefully picking each cookie up and setting them on a cooling rack so they’ll become edible—without burning the skin off the roof of your mouth—sooner rather than later. 

Billy finally appears in the kitchen and puts a hand against the counter. His brow creases like he’s just been told something very serious, though his mussed hair and flushed cheeks say otherwise. 

“Did you just say ew to me, baby?” An evil smirk starts to appear on his face and he closes in on you. “You definitely don’t think it’s gross when I spit on your—” 

You shove a warm cookie into his mouth before he can finish that sentence. His face takes on a comical expression of his surprise, but he happily chews on the melting chocolate chips you’ve provided him with. He does like the warm cookies the best. 

You reach for a towel to clean off his face, but he moves too fast. 

Billy is kissing you all over, your neck, your collarbones, your cheeks and forehead. He’s doing his damndest to get chocolate all over you as payback for your teasing little attitude. 

“Billy!” you squeal, giggling and shrieking with joy. 

“Take it back! Take back that fucking ew, princess, and you can go!” He’s cackling, tickling your sides. 

“Okay, okay! I love your nasty ass, I do! Let me go!”

He removes his fingers from your hips and starts to wipe off your face with a wet cloth while you both catch your breath. 

“Damn right you do.”

————

tagging: @clovermunson (i got you bestie)

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[sourcherryandsprinkles]

boob obsessed ethan!!

I have very few smut requests for Scream characters and I'm in that mood to write that... Please send more for Ethan and Billy (I can do Billy x reader x Stu too)

Warnings: 18+, boobs touching/sucking, Ethan being obsessed

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It all started clicking one night you and Ethan were studying for finals. He was having difficulty concentrating, easily distracted by flipping his pen or even whistling, so you decided to give him a little bit of motivation.

‘’If you get five answers right, I’ll show you my boobs.’’ 

Automatically, Ethan’s eyes lowered to your boobs — still covered by your shirt — and bit the inside of his mouth to not moan. 

‘’And if you get ten right,’’ you added, ‘’I’ll let you touch them.’’ 

His jaw almost dropped. There was no way you were being serious. No one ever made deals like that and honored their part of the deal — except in his late night fantasies.

‘’Y-you’re playing,’’ Ethan said, shifting on the bed, feeling himself harden just at the thought of your breasts.

You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘’I’m not. You helped me when I was struggling last semester, now it’s my turn to help you. Do we have a deal?’’ 

Seventeen minutes later, you put the pile of flashcards down and Ethan held his breath, knowing what was coming. He got five answers right. It was an understatement to say he was nervous, however he was also so excited — very excited. 

You grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, then unclasped your bra, nipples hardening from the cool air of the dorm. 

Watched intently, Ethan let out a strangled moan, his eyes wide with wonder and staring directly at your chest. ‘’Holy fuck, those tits are so nice. Way better than what I imagined through your shirt,’’ he said, his blunt honesty making you laugh. ‘’Shit. Did I say that out loud?’’ His face flushed, embarrassed at himself. He really wanted to crawl into a hole and die right here.

‘’You did,’’ you confirmed. You gave Ethan a soft smile, pulling him out of his trance by placing your hand on his kneecap. ‘’Let’s not get distracted. If you want to touch, you gotta give me five more good answers. Remember?’’ 

Ethan nodded, shifting again to cover the slight tent in his pants. Controlling that part of his body was impossible. He took a deep breath and you hit him with the next question. 

It was harder to concentrate this time, his eyes dropping back to your chest every three seconds, but he did it, successfully correctly answering five more flashcards.  

‘’Can I touch them, now?’’ he asked shyly, his fingers tingling with excitement. 

‘’Go for it.’’ 

That's exactly what he did. Ethan placed both of his hands over your boobs, covering them with his palms and splayed fingers like a kid discovering something for the first time. He squished them both, his fingers sinking into the softness of your breasts. 

Ethan could feel his cock twitch slightly in his pants as he continued to feel you. ‘’Oh my god. Oh wow,’’ he said, breathing heavily. His finger tweaked your nipple, experimentally pinching at it and rolling it between his fingers, drawing out a soft gasp from you when he used more pressure than you were expecting. ‘’I could cum just from touching them—’’

‘’Ethan!’’ you gasped, shocked by his words. 

His eyes snapped up and he mumbled apologies, but you just laughed.

—

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