#Filthy dirty bass line

[falling-down-the-scroll-hole]

[should-know-better]

Thinking about Bad Habits

Have we ever properly considered the lyrics to Bad Habits? I mean, we know the story about how the song came about from the Zane Lowe interview:

Miles: Al had that bass line.

Zane: Hell of a bass line

Alex: I played that for about 45 minutes and he did the thing that ends up being the song; and probably didn’t repeat himself at all… Bad Habits, Large Rabbits,

Miles: Blue Door [laughing]

Alex: He could have done that for like 72 hours…

And then James helped them to edit it down to make the song. But when you actually look at what they used - whew 😳 (!)

I have googled some of the definitions to double check the expressions and I don’t believe for one second that naughty Miles wasn’t aware of these alternative meanings.

“Bad habits” - okay, this is a negative behaviour

“Sick puppy” - in my naivety I originally pictured a poorly dog, but this isn’t a bad habit. It is actually ‘a person who is crazy, cruel or disgusting’ so yes, it fits.

“Thigh high” - if you’re kneeling in front of someone and they’re standing, where would you be looking?

“Knee deep” - part of the phrase ‘knee deep in trouble’ which if repeated could be a bad habit (and also ties in with the previous line)

Skipping to:

“Deep trouble” - see knee deep.

“Red lollipop” - could be a sexual connotation for sucking cock

“Pale faces” - this line had me most confused. I would have thought flushed faces made more sense. Could refer to our Northern boys having pale skin that doesn’t tan. You can become pale from fear or worry, but this doesn’t really fit. Urban Dictionary says it’s ejaculating in the hand, then slapping with that hand!!! Make of that what you will!

“Delicious” - refer back to Red lollipop (!)

I personally think that the lines:

“Should have known little girl that you’d do me wrong / Should have known by the way you were showing off”

were added later to make it more in line with record company policy, ie heterosexual.

Then we’re left with Alex singing, “c’est sur le bout de ma langue” (translated to ‘it’s on the tip of my tongue’) - which again could refer back to the ‘red lollipop.’

Finally,

“Do you want to hold hands? / Should we get back down? / Do you want a slow dance?”

These lines may or may not have been part of Miles’ original freestyling, we’ll never know, but in other words, ‘do you want to do something romantic or shall we carry on having sex?’

So there you have it. Two blokey mates are together creating a song, and Miles thinks about these images and sings them to Alex. Not gay at all. And these are the bits they use! Imagine how filthy the rest of the 45 minutes could have been; Alex has said Miles is no innocent! Obviously the lyrics could be about sex with a girlfriend but hmmmm - why is that then a bad habit?

Apologies if this is just me interpreting the lyrics this way with a dirty mind. Also apologies if I’m stating the obvious 😉. Any alternative thoughts are welcome. x

[gojos-thot-patrol]

This can be SFW or nsfw or both, whatever you fancy hehe, but can you do turn ons and turn offs for the jjk men? Plz and thnx o holy one ☝🏽

Oh reader, Don't call me Holy, I might just fuck around and start a cult ♥️

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, and Ryomen Sukuna

Satoru Gojo

You existing is his main turn on.

Jk.

…..But not really.

When girls with enough hair tie it up OR let it down? That's his drug.

When you let out a little giggle at his stupid jokes? Heroin 

That look you give him when he’s being actively dumb? It’s going to make him act up even more.

The look on your face when you're concentrating? Begs him to break that concentration.

Also just like…dominant people. 

Honestly I feel like Gojo is a little bit of a masochist, ngl. So like, little pats on the back that are just a bit too rough do it for him

Honestly, say anything with a little bit of bass in your voice and he’s hooked

Thigh highs, he fucking loves thigh high stockings.

Thighs in general really, thick thighs save lives

The little dimples at the base of your spine? Drive him fucking wild. 

And your moans are basically an aphrodisiac for him.

Blindfolds on him? Eh. On you? Next level. 

Edge him, please edge him, he’s begging

As for turn offs

Spit, blood, piss, bodily fluids of that nature, off the table.

I’m going to keep it real with you, I do think he’s at least a little turned off by condoms. He thinks his pullout game is that strong enough and he’s so touch starved, that when he does get to that point with you he wants zero barriers between you.

Feet. He hates them. Keep your grippers to yourself.

Suguru Geto

He is verrrryyy….musically motivated. 

Certain songs really get him going, and no it’s not what you're thinking. 

You’re thinkin’ Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter, I’m talkin’ Animal by Nine Inch Nails

Concerts in general are a turn on for him. The energy goes straight to his dick.

He takes you to a concert and half way through he’s fucking you in the filthy ass bathroom

For similar reasons, you singing is a major turn on for him.

Also, when you stretch to try and reach something and your shirt rides up and he can see your tummy?

He’s going to go feral. 

Stripteases are also a major turn on for him. 

You begging him to fuck you is far better than opium as far as hes concerned. It scratches his corruption kink 

Honestly? This may be controversial but he loves it when you say you hate him.

Cause that just gives him a reason to show you why that's bullshit. 

Head is another major turn on for him, both giving and receiving he is ALL ABOUT IT

Also he’s into voyeurism. Look at him. 

Call him sir and watch him lose all control. 

Call him daddy and watch him walk away LMAO

Vore is a major MAJOR turn off for him. It reminds him of swallowing curses and makes him GAG

Honestly anything relating to the jujutsu sorcerers or work turns him off ngl

Actively trying to be sexy is another turn off for him. Like, just let it happen naturally and be in the flow. He thinks people trying to force “being sexy” (Like thirst traps for example) Are often stilted and awkward and maybe even a little funny?

Nanami Kento

Some of Nanamis turn ons include:

A stable income

A 401k

A retirement plan!

Nanami is the most turned on by STABILITY. 

Nanami is more than willing to take care of his partner, but he does want to feel like this is a partnership. 

Now, all jokes aside, Nanami is a man of taste. 

He finds hip dips intoxicating, and loves the spine line along your back.

The way you laugh is an aphrodisiac to him.

But, he's not all fluff. If we’re talking nsfw…

He loves a solid matching set. Lingerie in general really is a huge turn on for him.

If you’ve read my NSFW headcanons (See: Here) you know why 👀

Dirty talk is another turn on for him, as he uses it to get consistent consent from you

Call him daddy. Call him daddy, I dare you, watch him ACT UP

He also l o v e s  LOVES  to see you covered in marks. He’s all about it.

Now, As for his turn offs..

Nanami is big on smells. This isn’t even like a “Bad hygiene turns him off” because, yea fair. No, I mean things like, Coconut or pear smells actively turn him off. Buy the wrong shampoo and face the consequences.

Also, blood. I don’t see him as a period sex guy, his job is too bloody for him not to be turned off by it.

Forcing your voice to go up in pitch. AKA: The uwu voice. If that’s naturally how you talk, that's one thing, but putting on a voice is another. 

Call him Daddy in the UWU voice, that will really confuse him. 

Ryomen Sukuna

Ryomen is fucked up dude, I’m not gonna front LMAO

Lets start light before we get fucked up.

It turns him on when you need him. When you need him to get something off the top shelf or open a jar or whatever. That shit turns him up to 10 because he loves feeling like you’re dependent on him

It turns him on as well when you try to question his authority. He loves to see that feistiness in you...and also cause he knows that he’s about to get to punish you.

In kinda the same vein, it turns him on when he sees you being bad, but not defiant against him.

Like, if he catches you being particularly mean to one of the servants? That scratches his corruption kink, he’s gonna lose his shit.  

Now, on to the main event

Remember when I said blood was a turn off for Nanami? THE EXACT OPPOSITE FOR RYOMEN.

He will purposely bite you until you bleed.

In the same vein, crying. You crying activates the predator part of his brain and he loves it

He’s a sadist, there I said it.

He also loves watching your tits bounce when he’s fucking you, that shit will make him go feral.

He loves when you get cock drunk for him, seeing you desperate for him to fuck you strokes his ego in all of the best ways.

He’s got a praise kink, but he won't admit that.

This is about to be so vulgar…watching his cum drip out of your pussy makes him want to fuck you full again. Yep, take that line in

And like, if he ever knocks you up, god help you both cause his breeding kink will not let either of you rest.

Now, turn offs for him?

Honestly I see Ryomen as constantly horny so there's not many.

You flirting with someone else would be a turn off for him, but he’s also going to kill you for it.

Getting food involved in any way I feel like would be a major turn off for him, that's the  vibe I get.

If you tell him you love him in the middle of the act it might scare his boner away, ngl.

….that's it.

[colorisbyshe]

Tinashe's tiny desk performance has won me over, is there an album if hers you would recommend for a new potential fan?

Oh man, all of her albums reinvent her entire sound, so it's hard to pick just one.

I think if you had to stick to just one album, 333 is my favorite of hers, with highlights like "Unconditional" which really shows off her vocal chops while "Bouncin'" and "X" show her sensual side. The Bouncin music video is actually what got me into her as a more serious fan because I loved how she made sexy look so fun and easy

The fact that's on the same album as "The Chase" and its cinematic, soaring greatness is incredible. "Naturally" is only on the deluxe edition but it's pure addiction.

That said, as great as 333 is, Songs for You mmight represent her range of sounds much better, even if it is a bit more juvenile lyrically.

"Save Room for Us" and its remix is incredible--rhythmic and desperate, it shouldn't be missed. "Die a Little Bit" is a club banger. "Link Up" has the hard edge that is more common in her earlier music. "Perfect Crime" has more of the beautiful vocals over a beat that draws you in.

Just listing these two albums is leaving off many great tracks (2 On, Needs, Ghetto Boy, Treason, All Hands on Deck, just to name a few!!!) but it also leaves out her COLLABS!!! "The Worst in Me" with Kaytranada has divine production, "Disco Pantz" with grouptherapy and Reijjie Snow gives her a classic, nostalgic dance track, "Love Line" is pop perfection that should've owned the radio, and Machinedrum's "Zoom" puts her over a drum & bass sound she was exploring in her newest album BB/Ang3l.

TO SUM IT UP:

Pick up any album and you'll find stan worthy songs.

If this list of songs is too overwhelming, to give a perfect sampler of her sounds, here are five songs to check out (sorry if any are redundant with her tiny desk performance!):

"Bouncin" has the perfect summation of her flirty sound that is dirty but never feels... filthy. It's a sleek type of horny. 333.

"Gravity" is ethereal and shows some of her dabbling in Drum and Bass. BB/Ang3l

"2 On" is one her (many) songs dedicated to getting fucked up at the club, hell yeah. Aquarius.

"Sunburn" is slower, more experimental. Gravity may feel ethereal but this song feels like an angel falling off the edge of a cloud. Nightride.

"Throw a Fit" is a single off a scrapped album but it represents her "Nashe" persona, so I couldn't leave it off!! I'm not in love with her voice sounds on it but if you can, watch a live performance of it, really elevates it and helps it fit more smoothly into her discography. Here's a mashup up performance:

I'm in this video though, if you want a non-mash up but farther away video

[ugh-yoongi]

hello, congratulations my beautiful funny grandpa friend on your follower milestone! as discussed, i have a drabble request: namgi, a blowjob, and a happy ending. yours to do with what you will - as explicit or vague as you like and you don't have to use my favorite ao3 tag if u don't want. okie, love u - good job being awesome on tumblr and reminding me it exists

yeah, hi, we're not gonna discuss how long this has been sitting in my ask box. we're gonna pretend that this showed up within the last two days.

flow job

pairing: yoongi x namjoon genre: underground rap scene au, fwb au; pwp warnings: this is obviously gay mxm stuff, so please do not interact if that's not your thing. swearing, public sex, oral sex, unedited. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 1k listen to: cypher pt.3 by bts

it's bee's birthday! send me yoongi requests and/or fic recs!

There’s something about the way Yoongi raps.

It fucks Namjoon up a little. (A lot.) Has him standing far enough in the side-stage shadows to adjust his jeans. Has his fingers twitching at his sides, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch, but he has to remember where they are. Who they’re around. Has to remember that this is part of the routine.

Because it’s not the first time.

Won’t be the last, either. Yoongi likes knowing Namjoon’s watching him, that he’s strung tight and a little desperate by the time Yoongi’s done. Likes feeling Namjoon’s heated gaze on him every time he wordplays some filthy line; every time his tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip. Likes taking the last slot of the night because it’s always the longest, and god knows Yoongi likes to draw it out, prolong the game.

The beat Yoongi’s rapping along to is dirty. Namjoon can feel the bass in his chest, but Yoongi rides it well. Better than anyone else in this grimy club. Looks better than anyone, too, but it’s the competence that does it for Namjoon. What had him approaching Yoongi to begin with, a little awestruck and inspired and a lot horny, and Yoongi had smirked out of the side of his mouth and that was the end of life as Namjoon had known it. Had him shoved in a disgusting bathroom stall with his pants pulled taut around his thighs, Yoongi on his knees in front of him.

Now it’s a thing.

Only ever here. Only in these seedy underground clubs where they’re known only by their stage names. Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi only exist here to one another.

Yoongi spits one more line right as the beat cuts out and he drops his microphone on the floor. There’s screaming, thunderous applause, but Namjoon hears none of it. All that exists to him is Yoongi and the way he finds him in the dark immediately, knows all his hiding places, and the hunger evident on his face.

Namjoon is a man that needs little instruction. Smart as hell but just as clumsy, yet always seems to know exactly what to do when it comes to Yoongi. Namjoon might call it intuition if the promise of Yoongi’s wet, hot mouth didn’t have his brain short-circuiting, but, well.

They’ve only played this club once before, but Namjoon has the layout memorized. Knows exactly where to go. Knows all the turns, how many steps. Hasn’t thought of much else since the last time he had Yoongi’s mouth on him. Two weeks, and he’s been fucked up and on fire ever since.

Sometimes Yoongi is gentle and teasing, but tonight he moves like he’s possessed. Slams a stall door open and pushes Namjoon inside of it with little regard for his well-being. No regard for anyone who might play witness to this, either, because he’s back on his knees before Namjoon can blink. Has his belt undone and his jeans pulled down while the crowd is still chanting his stage name.

“Hy-hyung,” Namjoon tries to choke out, but it comes out all breathy and stuttered. Tries to tangle his hands in Yoongi’s hair, too, but he swats his hands away.

“Shut up,” Yoongi replies, and it’s all heat but no disdain. “Fuck, I thought about this the entire time.”

Namjoon’s briefs get tucked beneath his balls and he braces himself for the feel of Yoongi’s mouth—sucks in one breath and then another, steadies himself against the stall door—but there’s… nothing. He cracks one eye open and looks down. Whimpers at the sight of Yoongi there, cheeks flushed, looking at Namjoon the same way Namjoon knows he looks at him.

“Are you gonna…”

It’s all gums when Yoongi smiles. Seems to laugh despite himself. “Suck your dick? Yeah, I’m working on it.”

“Doesn’t seem to be the case, hyung.”

“Give me a fucking second, Namjoon, I’m thinking.”

“Can you think later? My dick hurts and your knees are gonna bruise. Not to mention this club is probably the nastiest one we come to—”

Yoongi scoffs. Spits in his hand and pumps the length of Namjoon’s cock just to shut him up. It works. It really works, because Namjoon’s moaning and thrusting his hips into Yoongi’s hand like no one’s ever touched his dick before. Pathetic. Namjoon knows it is, but he can’t help himself. When just a look from Yoongi can have him unraveling, it’s unrealistic to expect him to be able to withstand this kind of assault.

“I was thinking,” Yoongi continues, replacing his hand with languid, slow licks from the base of Namjoon’s cock to the tip, “about how to—” Sucks hard at the tip just to laugh when Namjoon swears. “—ask you out.”

And because he’s a bastard, Yoongi doesn’t give him a chance to reply. Just swallows the entire length of Namjoon’s cock, and whatever sounds and words come out of Namjoon’s mouth are no longer his responsibility. Whatever he does with his hips isn’t, either, because he’s been keyed up since he first laid eyes on Yoongi hours ago. Has exhibited impressive restraint, so he figures he’s allowed to let go. He’s allowed to fuck Yoongi’s mouth in shallow strokes until he’s snug in his throat.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groans. The chase is mindless, now. Nothing exists beyond the feel of Yoongi’s mouth. “Hy-hyung, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Yoongi pulls off long enough to roll his eyes and say, “Jesus, already?” before Namjoon finally tangles his hands in his hair and feeds his cock back into his mouth. Then it’s just instinct.

Namjoon comes with a long, drawn-out moan. The kind of orgasm that has his legs trembling, no longer able to support his weight, and he wants to sink to the floor and ride it out but he refuses to put his bare ass on the grungy tile. “Oh my god,” he says, swallowing hard to try and catch his breath.

Yoongi is completely unbothered. Stands to dust off his knees. “Am I allowed to think now?”

“Sure,” Namjoon concedes, “but I can’t. I think you sucked me stupid.”

Yoongi scoffs, rolls his eyes again, but Namjoon can see the shy smile that’s threatening to break through. Can see the blush spreading across his cheeks. “You’d think you’d be used to it by now. You wanna go grab a drink with me?”

Namjoon falters. Isn’t sure he’s hearing correctly. Knows, logically, that Yoongi had mentioned it just minutes earlier but thought maybe he’d misheard, like some mirage in the horny desert that’s Namjoon’s brain. Gets distracted by Yoongi’s spit-slicked lips, the way the yellowed, fluorescent lights of the bathroom glint off his mouth, the way he swipes his tongue at the corner, and blurts out:

“Is this why your stage name is Gloss?”

Yoongi’s stunned. Just blinks owlishly. “You really think I’ve made a habit of blowing people in club bathrooms and named myself after it?”

“Well, I don’t know, your mouth just looks—”

“Just shut up, Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi says, and Namjoon decides it’s advice worth taking. “Do you want to go out with me or not? I’m not asking again.”

He nods.

[falling-down-the-scroll-hole]

Ha! Someone has that Friday feeling. May the club tunes commence!

[aquarianshift]

thanks so much @two-gurus-in-drag for tagging me in the:

ao3 first lines tagline!

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway (spoiler alert: rules are made to be broken…)

i haven't written ten either, and one of the ones i have written isn't a fanfic but a collection of limericks so. not gonna hit ten. but, in order from newest to oldest:

See you 'round, George had said.

If Ringo had known he'd meant See you in an hour when I drop by your house, he might have tidied up a bit. (Might have put on a shirt, even.)

Ringo considers crossing his hands over his breast, damsel-style, when a door shuts and George appears in the front room, though the sight of him's hardly front-page news to any of them. Besides, George barely gives him a glance before dropping himself onto the sofa, face-first, with a faint sigh.

"Make yourself at home," says Ringo. (I Can't Tell You But I Know It's Mine)

2. There's a look that a man gets when he takes a good pull on a cigarette: hollowed cheeks, brows drawn together. It makes him look sharper for a moment. It has an equalizing effect, too, across classes; done right, the poor man can look like a prince and the prince like a longshoreman when he smokes. It's dirty, really. Filthy habit.

John's problem was that George looked like that all the time. (Mojo Filter)

3. The first time they came close to kissing was during that whole Shakespeare business. (Suffer Fools Gladly)

4. "Bit tighter, George, go on. Pull on your end a little more."

"That's..." George grunted with effort as he tugged on the rope. "...tight 's it'll go. He can't get out of that. Can you?"

"Try and get out of that," said Ringo.

Paul reached to try and untie himself, but his bound wrists stayed snugly behind him. He shifted his arms, straining, trying to stand, but the knots held fast. He wasn't getting out of this chair in any hurry. He beamed and shook his head. (Bound and Determined)

5. Paul put down his beer to fully brace himself against the table laughing. Their set had ended minutes ago, and he and John had quickly descended upon their favorite table with a couple of pints. Then just a couple more, then maybe one more. At some point, the beer had combined with his sleep-deprived delirium to make everything unbearably funny. John had smelled blood in the water and set about making Paul laugh too hard to get a good drink. He'd choked and spit all over the table, but John didn't show mercy. Now, he leaned in even closer and doubled down on his last joke, giving Paul's shaking ribs a sharp jab for good measure. (The Bass Lesson)

next one isn't strictly beatle-centric (it was supposed to be about bob dylan, but john found his way in somehow lol)

6. This wasn't the first time she'd seen a Beatle-- in London, 1966, it wasn't exactly unheard of. But it might well have been the first time she'd seen just one by himself.

John Lennon approached her as she wheeled an empty luggage cart down the hall. She politely avoided eye contact, having heard enough stories about the young men being mobbed by fans in hotels, often enough by people dressed as staff. But he stopped in front of the cart, called out to get her attention.

He had a job for her. (Land of Paradise)

these next two aren't beatle-related at all. this first one is an AU for It's a Wonderful Life where George was never born.

7. Mary was still shaking when she locked her front door behind her-- and not from cold, though it was a bitter cold Christmas Eve night, all wind and no snow. (Lady Madonna)

this one is for the remake of All Creatures Great and Small:

8. Eleven o'clock on a Sunday morning cast a lazy glow on Skeldale House. With Siegfried away on business for the night and Mrs. Hall visiting a friend, there was nothing for James to do but drape himself over the sofa with a thick book.

Tristan seemed even more determined to relax. He had no newspaper, no book, no pad and pencil for drawing. He lay quite still, with his hands behind his head, on the sofa across from James, who thought that he might actually get a chance at a quiet afternoon, this once.

But it wasn't to last. (You Take the High Road)

umm i can't tag ten people because i'd still be leaving too many out, basically if i've ever read and commented on your stuff i really wanna see yours lol. i know i need to tag at least @pauls1967moustache and @javelinbk though because 3/8 of these were written for you. and @theoldmixer is the only reason they exist. @surrealisticduvet i could probably quote yours back to you but i want to see them anyway :) oh please oh please if you got this far and i didn't tag you, yes i did i wanna see. give to me pls <3

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Top!Calum Masterlist

Bass and Drums (ao3) - boomercal Calum/Ashton, Michael/Crystal, Sierra/Luke E, 70k

Summary: [Sequel to The Bass Player]

Calum and Ashton just went public with their relationship, but they might have left a few things out, like how long they've been together and how it happened. But that's beside the point; Calum's trying to navigate social media, being allowed to hold his boyfriend's hand and the blurry lines between friendship and something more.

Birthday Cake (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance Luke/Calum E, 2k

Summary: Birfffday Cake

It’s Luke’s birthday and Calum decides to make it special.

Endlessly (ao3) - pxnkspace Luke/Calum M, 3k

Summary: Calum and Luke have been together for almost five years now and Calum just wants to show Luke that he is the right guy for him.

for you are not beside but within me (ao3) - elysianhood Luke/Calum E, 11k

Summary: Calum pulled Luke up with his blonde locks by his right hand and wrapped his left tightly around his throat, restricting his airway, and leaned in close to the teary blue eyes, hissing threateningly, ‘You never – ever – speak to me like that ever again, you filthy slut. Ever. You don’t fucking tell me what to do. You’re just a fucktoy, remember? A dirty, fucking whore. That’s all you’ll ever be.’

or; Luke was a bad boy and Calum isn’t happy.

Grabby Hands (ao3) - antisocialhood Calum/Ashton, Michael/Luke/Ashton N/R, 7k

Summary: Ashton likes wearing big sweaters, curling up with his daddy and sucking him off while they watch TV, and sometimes Calum likes to treat his princess to something special.

I Only Wanna Talk (ao3) - dafeedil Michael/Calum E, 16k

Summary: He thinks it should feel wrong, kissing Calum here in the dark, when the thousand dollars he paid to have this is sitting neatly in its envelope just feet away. But it doesn’t feel wrong, not at all. In fact, it feels unnatural not to be kissing Calum.

Or, more simply, Michael falls in love with a prostitute.

I’ve Seen My Neighbor Naked (ao3) - orphan_account Luke/Calum, Michael/Luke, Luke/Ashton E, 18k

Summary: Luke is a porn star. Michael runs across two videos of him with Ashton and Calum two really famous porn stars. When said boy moves into the house next door will feels come out?

I Wanna Make You Feel Good (ao3) - boomercal Calum/Ashton E, 3k

Summary: Calum and Ashton just go together and they're trying to figure out where they stand and are learning things about one another. Some of those things make Calum horny.

like a prayer (for which no words exist) (ao3) - satellitesunset (awkwardcaterpillar) OT4 E, 2k

Summary: It's overwhelming, being kissed, grazed, and revered in a manner not unlike worshipping like he's something divine and holy, someone worth praising and devoting to, he's both the saint and sinner, the painting and temple being venerated.

- or ashton-centric ot4 gang bang

Looking In Your Eyes And They’re Burning Fire (ao3) - fourdrunksluts Luke/Calum E, 8k

Summary: Luke doesn’t think he’s very good at sex, so Calum helps him practice, and maybe learns a few things along the way.

Midnight Memories (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance michael/calum E, 3k

Summary: It was Calum’s birthday and Michael wanted to be the first one to wish him. He also decided to wish him in a different way. In a different way meant in a way that Calum would not expecting. To carry his plan out, he got a few stuffs of his own that he was impatient to try.

No Equipment Required (ao3) - onlypanda Luke/Calum E, 3k

Summary: “We still gotta get a workout in,” Calum huffs.

“I’m pretty sure this will count,” Luke shoots back.

Taking Turns (ao3) - sonofneverland Calum/Ashton M, 1k

Summary: Boyfriend's Ashton and Calum try switching things up in the bedroom.

This Night, This High (ao3) - valiantnerd (arareads) Calum/Ashton E, 5k

Summary: He could stay in this moment forever. With nothing but the chill evening breeze coaxing the smoke away and the vast silence that only he breaks with every breath. Minutes go by, slow and thick, and he sinks into them like a warm bath.

Here, in the cabins, the rush can’t reach him.

Or, Calum and Ashton make the most of the nights at the cabin.

you drape your wrists over the steering wheel (ao3) - spaces Luke/Calum M, 2k

Summary: the one where calum and luke have sex. in a car.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson[6.1K] steddie smut, her boys, their girl, it was time to give in.

It had been a long time coming.

Too long, in fact, a couple of years, maybe three. It started at parties, when beer was involved, lukewarm and readily available. Cheap vodka, cheaper weed, lemonade and soda that had lost its fizz, mixed with tequila, the smell of smoke and the heat from dancing bodies.

It started with Steve, a friend who became more but not enough, a boy that you watched grow into a man, all lean muscle, tall frame, wild hair, stubble on his jaw that scratched at you when he pulled you into hugs. Then years ticked over and you broke down the barriers, ripped up the rule book and toed the line between best friends and more.

You looked at the boy for seconds too long, eyes lingering, his gaze fixed on yours, staring right back. You stopped blushing when he caught you, only raising your brows when he grinned, fond, appreciative, knowing.

‘Cause parties happened and you almost always found yourself on his lap, pressed to his side in a kitchen, sharing the same red cup and he let you move up against him when your favourite song came on, hips pushing back into his, his hands close to squeezing at your ass before he caught himself, cheeks flushed, eyes hooded.

It went on like that for a while, late night calls full of whispered secrets and what ifs, an edge of flirting, the promise of something filthy if the other gave in and let it happen. 

And then Eddie arrived, pushed himself into your circle with a dramatic flare, settling down amongst Steve and Robin and Nancy like he’d always been there. 

You liked the way he matched Steve’s height, how they both towered over you when they sandwiched you between them, all warm and solid, boyish teasing, rough hands, flirtatious remarks and kisses goodbye pressed to your cheeks.

And where Steve was soft - gentle with you, deliberate, so aware of how you felt, how you looked at him - Eddie was a little more wild. Messy curls, leather and ripped denim, a smile that told you that he knew how you looked at him, big brown eyes that matched Steves, a carelessness in the way he liked to accidentally brush past you, an arm over your shoulder when the movie started playing.

When Eddie found himself at the same parties as you and Steve, he took to standing with the other boy, their backs against the walls as they watched you move around the crowded living room, hand in Robin’s as you encouraged her to dance. And even when Robin gave up, the two boy’s kept their eyes on you, watched you move to the music with their shoulders pressed together, sharing the same joint that Eddie had rolled earlier. 

Steve and Eddie shared a lot of things, you’d noticed.

Steve’s car when Eddie’s van inevitably broke down, Eddie’s stash of weed, a lighter, sometimes clothes when parties got out of hand and everyone crashed at the Harringtons. They shared cassettes, mixtapes, the key to your back door, the way they looked at you.

Maybe it was the cherry vodka on your tongue that night, maybe it was the way the strangers living room was filled with smoke and the scent of weed and damp skin, the way it was so crowded that you could feel the heat of the other people around you. 

Maybe it was the music, a dirty strum of bass, slow drums, lyrics that made you think things you only thought about in bed, late at night and alone, hands pushed into your pyjama shorts. Maybe it was your short dress, the hem lifting every time you moved, the small strap slipping off one shoulder.

Maybe it was the two boys on the outskirts of the room, Steve sitting on the kitchen counter, a beer in hand, Eddie beside him, his elbow on the other boy's knee as he leaned on him. Maybe it was their eyes on you, roaming, greedy, wanting. Maybe it was the way Steve’s eyes went darker and hooded as he watched you, lips wet when he took a sip of his drink. Maybe it was the way Eddie’s jaw went slack every time you moved your hips a little slower than the time before.

Maybe it was the boys.

Your boys. 

It was unsaid, an unofficial title that no one had been brave enough to say out loud but you were at a party surrounded by drunk, horny strangers and the other boys there were staring, hands twitching, eager to crowd into you and tell you how pretty you looked in that damn dress. But they were all sensible enough to know that wherever you were, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson weren’t far. 

It’s why other girls didn’t get a look in, why the hands on chests, lips pressed to ears and coy smiles went ignored. Your boys were only looking at you, heads tilted towards each other, whispering things you couldn’t hear as they kept their gaze on you, smiles curling into smirks.

It only took you to lift your chin and smile at Eddie for him to come to you, squeezing between the writhing bodies, a ghost in the smoke, the shine of the red and purple glow that flashed from the fairy lights strung up around the room.

He took your hips in his hands, your back to his chest as he guided you against him, moving to the music, the smell of cigarettes and something spicy, Eddie’s cologne lingering on the collar of his shirt. But you were greedy, wanted more, wanted Steve and the other boy was still on the kitchen counter, legs spread, leaning back on his hands as he smirked, watching you both.

He was making you wait for it, an unnecessary unkindness because all three of you knew that Steve couldn’t say no - not to you. Never to you. But he wanted to see you make those eyes at him, all doe like and pleading, bottom lip pushed out into a pout as you let yourself fall back into Eddie, your head against his shoulder. 

It was only when you threatened to turn in Eddie’s arms, to give the longer haired boy every ounce of your attention, that Steve moved. He snuck between the party goers, slipped between grinding bodies to find your own, his hands half covering Eddie’s as he held onto your waist, pressed you between him and the other boy.

It was something new. 

You were well used to dancing with both boy’s, bodies pushed together, toeing that invisible line and pretending you didn’t see the way the other watched from the sidelines, hungry. 

But this? This? 

You were warm all over, the width of your sides covered by the expanse of two pairs of hands. Eddie’s hair was tickling your neck, his head dipped to brush his cheek over your own, your ass pressed into the denim of his jeans and god, he was hard, you could feel it. 

Your own hands went to Steve’s chest, muscles flexing under your touch, a sharp inhale of breath that you could feel under your palms when you smoothed them up and over his shoulders, holding on for dear fucking life. He tucked his own face down to yours, caught your gaze in a silent question, a raise of his brows, one that asked ‘is this okay? Is this what you want?’

You answered by threading your hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him to you a little tighter and Steve tugged you into him in response, your tits pressed up against him and shit, you wondered if he could feel your heartbeat, if he could feel the way it rattled your fucking bones. 

Eddie’s lips skimmed your shoulder as you stared at Steve, goosebumps rippling across all that bare skin you had on show and Steve dipped his head, let his nose brush against your own, let it nudge at your cheek and Eddie was closer, brushing your hair away from your face so he could watch.

His hand squeezed at you, encouraging, his lips at the shell of your ear, his breath heavy as the three of you moved to the beat together. If people were staring, not one of you noticed.

You didn’t move when Steve crowded you further, pressed you into Eddie until you tipped your head back for him, let it fall back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder, throat exposed for Steve to blow cool air over. The tip of his nose nudged at you again, drew a line up your throat until he hit your jaw and you were fisting your hands in the front of his shirt. Desperate. 

He hadn’t put his mouth on you. Not yet. A line still uncrossed. 

But then Eddie was tucking your hair behind your ear, eyes dark as he looked down at you, ringed fingers catching through your strands, cupping the back of your neck and coaxing you forward. Towards Steve. The bass dropped, the chorus kicked in and Eddie was looking at the other boy expectantly, lips parted, waiting. 

His other hand left your waist, cupped Steve’s jaw instead, a thumb decorated in silver soothing over the line of his cheekbone and he was bringing him forward too. 

‘C’mon,’ his touch said, ‘you know you want to.’

Steve’s forehead touched yours, skin slick, hot to touch and Eddie’s wide hands were back around your waist, hips grinding against your ass, a slow, dangerous burn.

Unholy, you thought.

He took his time, like he always did. Kept you waiting, teasing, needy. Steve held his lips over your own, hovering so you were breathing in what he was breathing out, sharing everything. His hands were still holding your waist, holding you steady for the other boy to move against you, holding you upright so he could wedge a knee between your legs, letting Eddie push you to grind up and down his thigh. 

Then, when you were panting, when he felt your breath hitch, a missed huff of air over his lips, Steve kissed you. 

It was innocent in the most awful way. A slip of his lips between yours, a slide of his top one, the curve of his bottom catching at yours. Teasing, testing, asking. One hand found your jaw, big enough that his palm covered most of your cheek, his thumb pushing at the plush of your cheek until your mouth fell into a pout for him and he could press his own over yours properly. 

Eddie’s chin was hooked over your shoulder, nose pressed to the spot under your ear, watching the way Steve’s tongue licked over your lips, teeth catching. Eddie’s breath hitched when you opened for the other boy, tongues touching, a wet slide over each other, mouths chasing kiss after kiss. It was slow, controlled by Steve’s hand on your jaw, keeping you from taking too much without asking.

Then he was pulling away, nudging your face towards Eddie with his thumb, smiling at you like this was what the three of you did every Saturday, like he was telling you it was okay, that he wanted to share.

The crowd of drunks around you melted into a blur. The lights danced, changed from red and lilac to aqua and lime, a flash of colour of skin. Steve’s fingers hooked into the tiny strap of your dress, his knuckles running over the bare skin underneath. 

You were too warm. 

Where Steve tasted like tequila and beer, honeyed, sweet,  Eddie was all smoke and spiced rum, deep and dark and he was greedier than Steve was, catching your lips with his own the second you leaned back into him. His hand covered Steve’s, both boys holding you as Eddie chased the taste of his friend from your mouth.

If someone had told you that there were other people in the room, you wouldn’t have believed them. 

“Can we take you home?” Steve asked, voice low and soft, Eddie’s lips on your cheek, pushing sweet kisses to it. 

“Wanna come home with us, princess?” The other boy asked, Steve’s hands curling around the dip in your waist, thumbs smoothing over your stomach. 

You nodded. 

It’s how you ended up with Eddie’s leather jacket draped over your shoulders, the hem of it almost as long as your dress. Steve took your hand in his, led you through the crowd with Eddie’s hand on the small of your back and then you were walking home. 

Step by step under the street lights, under the inky night sky, leftover over summer heat and the flirt of a promise in the air. The boys touched you all the way home, nothing too much, just enough to be considered a normal Saturday night. 

Steve kept his hand joined with yours, teasing at how small your fingers were compared to his. He spun you this way and that, let you wander an edge too far before tugging you back to his side, grinning proudly at the way he made you laugh. 

Eddie wasn’t far away, skipping around you both, mumbling a song neither you nor Steve knew but he’d grab at your waist from behind, nose at your neck until you squirmed, humming a beat into your hair as the three of you managed to get yourself back to Steve’s permanently intertwined. 

And when you all reached the empty Harrington household, Steve flicked on the lamp by the sofa and watched you drop yourself onto it, kicking off your shoes and leaning back into the cushions. Eddie mumbled something about something, slipping away into the dark of the kitchen and you wondered if it was deliberate, it this was already planned. 

Because Steve was coming to stand before you, nudging your knees apart with his own so he could drop between them, crouching between your thighs. His hands were hot on your skin, lips still swollen from how he’d kissed you before. 

He looked pretty. Messy in a scandalous way, hair wild from your own hand, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. So, so pretty. 

Your pretty boy. 

“You okay?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin just above your knee. “With this?”

You weren’t sure what he was referring to. His touch? What had happened back at the party? What you were sure was about to come?

Either one of those had you nodding your head, brows knitted together because you were so desperate, so pent up, that you thought you might actually cry. But then Steve’s hand was on your jaw, your throat, thumb soothing over your cheek as he let you pull at his shirt , pawing at him. 

“Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” Steve’s voice was honey, sticky sweet with an edge of the same neediness you felt. ‘Cause it had been years of skirting around each other, toeing the line that only Eddie seemed to be able to help you both cross. “Need to kiss you again.”

You pushed your mouth to his without any hesitation. 

The boys hands ran up your thighs, pushed at your dress until his thumbs were pressed to the line between your legs and your underwear, palms curled around you so he could drag you to the edge of the sofa. 

His tongue licked over you, licked into you, a slow, soft burn of a kiss that almost felt lazy. Like he knew he had you now. That there wasn’t any rush. There was no going back from this. 

Eddie’s jacket still hung from your shoulders, a reminder of the boy who was only just coming back from the kitchen now, quietly entering the room to sit on the armchair across from you both. 

He sprawled out, legs spread wide, ringed fingers playing with his bottom lip, like he was trying to feel what you both felt. 

“You both look so pretty like this,” Eddie’s voice was only a whisper, but it cracked through the room, rolled over you like a storm. 

It made you shiver, clench your thighs and drag your mouth from Steve’s. 

You knew what he meant, ‘cause if you looked anything like Steve did - eyes drooping with pleasure, lips slick and glossy from each other, skin flushed and hair a mess - well, what a pretty picture, indeed. 

Your dress was hitched high, splayed around the tops of your thighs with Steve’s hands half hidden underneath, legs spread wide with the boy kneeling between them, your greedy hands curling at the nape of his neck. 

“Is that right?” Steve asked and his voice was just as low and flirtatious as when he spoke to you. 

Eddie smirked and you couldn’t help but ask. 

“Have you and Eddie-” Steve turned back to you, brows lifted, small smile, knowing. “Uh, have you guys done this? Before?”

The boys both grinned and Eddie leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes roamed over the way his jacket was still slung over you, Steve between your thighs. “With each other?”

“Or with another girl?” Steve finished. 

You shrugged, suddenly feeling a white hot burn of jealousy flare in the pit of your stomach. Your fingers turned gentle as they played with the ends of Steve’s hair, his lashes fluttering at your touch. Surely no one else could make Steve feel the way you did? Right?

“Either.”

“Oh pretty girl, Steve cooed, voice fond, “you think we’d do this with someone who wasn’t you?” His mouth found your cheek, sweet kisses pushed to the apple of it, lips trailing to kiss over your lashes, the tip of your nose, your temple. “Don’t you know that we’re yours?”

Yours. Your boys. 

“Both of you?” You felt shy, silly for asking, but Eddie was still out of reach, despite the way he was eyeing you. 

He nodded, “of course, sweetheart.” Eddie meant back in the chair, eyes glittering dark in the low light. “Doesn’t mean we haven’t looked after each other though.”

Heat looked in your stomach, between your legs. You wanted to whine. 

Your nose bumped Steve’s as you turned back to him, lips parted, watching how he smiled. You swallowed hard, chest moving too fast to go unnoticed. 

“Yeah?”

Steve nodded, hands pushing into the dough of your thighs, a soft touch that kept you on edge, kept you grounded and you were waiting for him to talk, to tell you the dirty, pretty things that him and Eddie got up to when you weren’t around. 

“S’real hard sometimes,” Steve murmured, “both of us havin’ to watch you in your pretty little dresses, pretending like you don’t see us staring at you.” A kiss, sweet and quick, on the line of your jaw. 

“When you wanna come sit on my lap and I’ve gotta pretend that I’m not hard as a fuckin’ rock when you wanna cuddle into me.” Steve’s voice was syrupy, warm and sticky. “‘Cause you smell so good and you’re just so sweet, and you look at me with those damn eyes. I can’t ever say no to you.”

“Poor Stevie is wrapped ‘round your little finger, princess,” Eddie crooned from the corner. “You got us both feelin’ like we’re seventeen and ready to make a mess in our pants every time you get too close.”

“So sometimes,” Steve explained, “when you go home and leave us all alone, we gotta help each other out.”

You were panting, eyes fluttering shut as Steve mouthed over your throat, teeth grazing, tongue licking dirty at the line of your jaw. 

“We talk about you,” Eddie continued, “how lucky we are to have you, sweetheart, such a cute little thing. A miracle you like hangin’ out with us so much.”

You whimpered, eyes opening and looking over Steve’s shoulder to see Eddie with his hand on his own thigh, thumb running lines over the outline of his cock.

“Oh yeah,” Steve whispered into your hair. “We talk about you all the time. What we wanna do to you, what we think you’d sound like, what you’d taste like. Bet you’re as sweet as you look, baby.”

Baby. 

“Then we just can’t help ourselves,” Eddie sighed dramatically, grinning at the way you were tilting your head for the other boy, Steve’s mouth sucking a lavender coloured bruise on your throat. “You have us fuckin’ ourselves into each other’s hands just thinking about you.”

Fucking hell. 

You imagined it, the two boys side by side in Steve’s bed, you and your other friends long gone as they got desperate with it, cocks hard, jeans shoved down just enough to wrap a fist around the other. Heads thrown back, lips on throats, jaws slack, pumping the other to the thought of you between them. 

“Do you like the sound of that?” Steve asked, softly. His hand nudged between your thighs, fingers slipping under lace and he swiped a digit through your folds, felt and heard the wet slick there and he groaned into your shoulder. “Oh, fucking hell.” 

He brought his finger back to his lips, sucked it into his mouth and smiled. Behind him, Eddie cursed, gripped his dick through his jeans and lay slack against the armchair cushions.  

“Oh, I think she likes that, Eds,” Steve confirmed, not waiting for you to reply. 

“Dirty girl,” Eddie laughed quietly. 

It was the same teasing they gave you when you got too squeamish over a horror film, when you complained it was too cold just so you could steal Eddie’s hoodie and burrow into Steve’s arms. 

“Does she taste as good as we thought, Harrington?” Eddie was lazing back, all faux calm composure because you could see the way the muscles in his jaw ticked every time you looked at him. 

“Better,” the boy answered, voice wrecked, rough. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

Steve kissed you as Eddie pushed himself from his seat, wandering over to the sofa so he could sprawl on the other end of it, his knee pressed to your hip. Steve’s tongue was curling around your own, making your gasp, little noises falling from your lips that he licked up like they were just for him. 

They were. 

Then his fingers were exploring again, thick and calloused as they nudged at your cunt, thumb spreading you apart a little so he could rub little circles over your entrance, huffing into your kiss as you tried to clench down on him. 

“How long have you thought about this?” Steve asked you, but you could answer because you were too busy staring at how he offered Eddie his fingers, middle and pointer sliding past the other boy's lips. 

Eddie hummed, lashes fluttering, sucking your wetness off of his friends' digits, sucking until Steve pulled them away from his mouth with a dirty ‘pop.’

“Huh, baby?” He prodded again, Eddie crowding in so he could fit himself into the space behind you, legs caging your hips, your back to his chest once more. “D’you do what we do? D’you touch this pretty little clit at night and think about Eddie and I?” Steve cooed. 

You nodded, keening when Steve pressed his thumb to you, all swollen and slick already. He slid his touch over your clit, soft and constant, staring at you the whole time, smiling at the sounds he was getting from you, the glassy look in your eye as you clung to his shirt. 

Then Eddie was pushing your hair back, hooking his chin over your shoulder to look down at the way Steve had your legs spread, lace underwear hiked to the side. He mouthed at your neck, matching Steve’s gentle pace, nothing too much, not yet. 

You felt like you were already on fire. 

“So pretty,” he gushed, curls falling over your face. He slid his jacket from your shoulders, chucked it to the floor and scattered kisses across your shoulders, using one ringed finger to make your dress straps fall down your arms. “Prettiest little thing, with such a pretty, pretty pussy.”

“Eddie,” you whined, arching into him, hips thrust towards Steve, chasing his fingers. “Fuck.”

“Oh sweetheart,” the boy replied, “what d’you need, huh? Want Stevie to be nice to you?”

“Steve’s always nice to me,” you mumbled, face burning with shyness despite the way your two best friends had you caged between their bodies, cocks hard for you, your underwear pushed to the side so they could see how wet they got you. 

Steve made a soft noise for you, sticky and fond, a tap tap tap at your clit for your sweetness. You wriggled, pushed yourself into Eddie’s lap a little more. 

“Hmm, he is, isn’t he?” Eddie replied, voice low and in your ear. He looked at the boy through his lashes, winked at him when you couldn’t see and said, “I think he could be so much nicer though, princess. ‘Cause I just know he’s fuckin’ dying to get his mouth on you.”

You made a strangled sound, a whine and a moan, maybe there was even a ‘please’ mixed in with it and your hands fell from Steve’s shirt to grab at Eddie’s curls, body stretched out between them both as you braced your arms on either side of his head. 

“Yeah? You’d like that?” Eddie cooed, “s’good, ‘cause I really wanna watch that. Fuck, you gonna let me watch Steve eat you out?”

You nodded furiously, tilting your head to the side for Eddie, his mouth biting down on the same mark that Steve had already left. 

“We wanna hear you,” Steve murmured, bending down over you to press a line of kisses along the tops of your thighs, curling his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and dragging them down your legs. “C’mon, sweetheart, let us hear how pretty you sound.”

“Please,” you were begging, unashamed, eyes fluttering shut at the way the cool air hit your cunt, “please Steve, please Stevie, want you so bad, please.”

They were both smiling when Eddie cupped his palms under your legs, spreading you more, your thighs draped over his knees, creating more space for Steve to settle into. 

“That’s it,” Steve cooed, “let Eddie help you, hmm? There’s a good girl.”

It was an electric buzz, his words, those words, the way they made you feel. And let it be known that your boys always paid attention, ‘cause Eddie was laughing and Steve’s lips were parted into a surprised ‘o.’

“She liked that, didn’t she?” Eddie snorted, hands wide and warm as they held your thighs open. “Felt her twitch, wonder if she got a little wetter, huh?”

Steve dragged his fingers through your folds, slid his fingers up and down a little messily so all three of you could hear the dirty slick of it. Eddie groaned and Steve was looking at you like you were his last meal and he was a man starved. 

“Soaked, baby,” Steve whispered, crowding into you to peck at your lips, leaning past you to give Eddie the same sweet treatment. His lips were at your ear, Eddie’s hands stroking across your ribs, thumb tracing the underside of your breast, nipples peaked for him. “You wanna be my good girl, s’that it?”

He pulled back, watched Eddie drag your dress down until the material was shoved underneath your tits, back arched and chest pushed out for him to play with. 

“Our good girl?”

You whined, nodding, hands pulling at Eddie’s curls before they landed on top of his hand on your legs, needing something to ground you as Steve blew warm air over your cunt. 

“Been thinkin’ about this for so long,” he told you, letting the pout of his lips just graze over your folds. He pushed a soft kiss just above your clit, ran a finger down the seam of you, never pushing any further. “You drive us goddamn crazy, d’you know that?”

“Steve,” you cried out, wiggling in Eddie’s arms, trying your best to push yourself closer to his mouth. 

“Ah, ah, princess,” Eddie scolded, “you gotta be patient. Steve’s gonna make you feel good, s’alright. Aren’t you, Harrington?”

Steve didn’t answer, not with words. He just sighed all dreamily as pushed his tongue out to taste you, flat and soft as he dragged it through your cunt. He groaned when you gasped, breath hitching and Eddie chuckled as he held you down against him, cooing softly in your ear. 

“Oh baby, s’good yeah?” He whispered, wild curls tickling your cheek, your neck. He caught your chin with a finger and thumb, turned you so you were panting against his mouth, his own tongue coming out to lick across your lips. “I know, I know, Stevie’s just so fuckin’ good with that mouth, isn’t he?”

 Steve hummed, thumbs coming up to pull at your folds, helping Eddie spread you out nice for them. He suckled at your clit, dipped the tip of a finger against your entrance and groaned at how wet you were. 

It was almost too much. Almost. 

He kept that up, that soft, slow, wet drag of the flat of his tongue against you, sucking at your clit when you started whining, arching up against Eddie. The other boy laughed, not all that unkindly, petting at you to get you to settle back down for him.

“S’wrong?” He asked, rocking his hips against your ass. Your dress had worked itself into a mess around your waist, chest bare, ass against Eddie’s crotch as he rutted himself into you. “You getting greedy, princess? You want more?”

You nodded, gasped out a ‘yes please,’ and tugged at Steve’s hair, made the boy moan so pretty as his nose bumped against your clit, his tongue dipping inside of you. 

Eddie hummed, ran guitar string scarred fingers over the stiff pebbles of your nipples, trailing a palm down your tummy. “I could just slide my cock inside of you,” he mused, grinning when you whimpered. “Could fuck you nice and deep in my lap whilst Stevie boy keeps eating that pretty little pussy of yours.”

You were seeing white, stars and bright flashes of pleasure behind your closed eyelids, Steve’s tongue doing wonderful things over your clit, that same soft, push of his mouth on you. He sucked, gave you a little kiss and you wanted to cry. 

“You think you’d like that?” Eddie kept talking, running his mouth in the same tone of voice he used for Hellfire, that low, gentle commanding cadence that made your toes curl. “Think you’d like my dick inside of you while our best friend licks at your clit? M’sure he’d let me feel his mouth too, huh? Bet you’d come real fuckin’hard for us, sweetheart, bet you’d look so fuckin’ pretty coming for us.”

You were squirming, both pairs of hands holding you down, holding you open as Steve lapped at you, his own cock hard in his jeans, rutting into the air trying to find some sort of release. He moaned into you, lashes fluttering, lips shiny with you. 

“But you see, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed, talking to you like he was trying to explain why you couldn’t have another piece of candy, like he was taking away your favourite toy. “I can’t do that yet.”

You whimpered, eyes brimming with tears, gathering at your lash line because of how overwhelmed you felt. 

“I can’t do that ‘cause Steve’s gotta feel that sweet, little pussy around his cock first,” Eddie’s voice was like chocolate, smooth and rich against your neck. He kissed the spot under your ear, sugary sweet, so lovely to you. “S’only fair, right? How fucking long you’ve both wanted each other.”

You nodded, jaw slack, eyes rolling ‘cause Steve was getting a little rougher, as if listening to Eddie talk was affecting him as much as it was you. He licked at you a little quicker, pushed his lips to your clit in a dirty kiss, sucking hard. You squealed, fingers yanking at his hair, his eyes wild for you when they flicked up to watch Eddie’s hands cup at your tits, pushing them together all pretty and obscene. 

“S’alright, sweetheart, I know, I know,” he mumbled gently. “You’re Stevie’s girl, you were his first.” 

Steve sucked in a breath, ragged, ruined. His fingers slid into you - two, thick and wide - too easy with how wet you were. He started curling them, a hot drag against you, in and out in and out in and out. 

“M’so fuckin’ lucky he lets me share you, aren’t I?” Eddie leaned over, hooked his chin over your shoulder, smiling at how your head lolled against his own. He let a little line of spit drip from his lips onto your tits, over one nipple so he could get it nice and wet between his fingers. “You’re so good to me, letting me touch your boy, aren’t you? Such a good girl, princess.”

“Oh, fu-uck,” you cried out, skin warm, chest flush, Eddie’s big hands still pushing at your tits, cold rings catching at your nipples. “Steve.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh, kissed cutely at your hot cheek and Steve moaned his response, finally bringing his mouth away from you to talk. He looked wrecked, a little wild with it all, lips swollen and glossy and so, fucking pretty. 

“Yeah, baby?” He murmured, voice rough and hitching, his fingers still slipping in and out of you, catching and dragging at all the right spots. “S’good? Like it when Eddie talks to you all sweet, huh?”

You nodded, gasping, legs trying to close themselves around Steve’s hand now that Eddie was preoccupied with touching you elsewhere but Steve tutted, tapped at your knee and hitched a thigh over his shoulder to keep you where he wanted you. 

“Yeah, I like it,” you have told him, and god, you’d never sound so needy in your life. 

“Oh, I know, baby,” Steve cooed, lips pouting for you, smiling when your eyes crinkled, closing in pleasure when he thumbed at your clit again. “Y’gonna put that pretty mouth around Eddie’s cock when I fuck you? Hmm? Think he deserves it, no?”

“Yeahyeahyeah,” you were babbling, hands wandering, one curled around Steve’s jaw as he leaned back into you to press open mouthed kisses along your thigh, the other intertwined with Eddie’s as he dragged his palm and yours over your tits. “He deserves it, Eddie’s so sweet, so pretty.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Steve mused, eyes on the other boy as he smirked, hand ghosting over the hard ridge of Eddie underneath you. Eddie jerked his hips, let out a rough moan at Steve’s touch and hissed when he rocked into his hand and your ass. “Hey Munson, d’you think our girl needs some practice first? Think we should make her feel nice and full?”

It was like he was asking if Eddie wanted to stay for dinner. He said it so casually, so softly, it made your toes curl. 

Eddie didn’t answer, just laughed softly and kissed your neck, let two fingers graze across your bottom lip until he was tugging at it softly, digits slipping into your mouth and settling heavy on your tongue. You whined around them, sucked and flicked your tongue around the silver of his ring.

“Atta’ girl,” Eddie breathed, “so good for us, huh? Y’gonna come for Steve now, yeah?”

Both boys watched your lashes flutter, watched you nod and wrap a small hand around Eddie’s wrist. Steve hummed, dipping his face back down, mouth an onslaught on you, tongue flat and wide as he lapped at you, fingers a punishing pace as he fucked them in and out of you. 

You fell apart in seconds. 

Back bowing, biting down on Eddie as Steve kept his face pressed into you, fingers coaxing white hot pleasure out of you. He licked it all up, kissed your clit so sweetly, murmuring dirty, soft words the whole time.

You slapped at both boys, body pulsing, cunt throbbing, eyes glassy. They both laughed, not all that mean, more fond and Eddie let Steve pull you from his lap, bundling you into his own chest as you curled up there, face pressed to his neck as you panted.

“Y’alright, baby? Hmm?” Steve whispered, “still with us?”

“Yeah,” you gasped, “jus’ need a minute, Stevie.”

He nodded, grinning at Eddie over your head, pressing his lips to your hairline, smoothing soft kisses over you as you came down from your high. Eddie leaned forward, brushed back your hair, scratched nicely at the slope of your bare back. 

“Oh, princess,” Eddie mumbled, “he got you good, huh?”

PART TWO: DIRTY, DIRTY BOYS

[warystares]

the way she g l i d e s through swathes of designer suits & diamanté-encrusted dresses with a COMMANDING sort of grace, it becomes difficult to envision angel cardona existing anywhere else ; draped in liquid jewels that catch & reflect light in dazzling fractals that scatter the room, she exudes an OPULENCE far beyond her humble rhinestone roots. but they've always been a chameleon, haven't they ? able to swiftly shed their skin for something shimmery & new ; a carefully curated costume for every room they enter !

they've already been told to remain on their BEST behavior here ― something about leashes, but they'll admit they were preoccupied by the chain lux was wearing ― and for the most part ? they have. but angel is not quite so VIRTUOUS as their holier name might suggest, and they can only be expected to behave for so long ! like a crow, he's drawn to SHINY things. and this particular ship, on this particular night, is rife with them ― angel himself being the BRIGHTEST of all ! a fact played to the entertainer's benefit ; their presence alone is a distraction, dazzling & deceptive.

so she hasn't scavenged too many trinkets ; angel knows better than to be reckless. she's careful. that said, she knows her WORTH. wasting her time is not an option. manicured hands admire the links of a diamond-studded bracelet in the warm light ( no matter how they came about it ! ) until a silhouette approaching catches the corner of a cat-winged eye. and, no, she's got ZERO peripheral vision in this mask ― nearly blinded by her own luminescence at times tonight ― but she could spot TEDDY NOVAK in the darkest corner of a basement rager with her gaze lash-glued shut.

. that's her baby boy !

an endearment that does not come lightly, but one that the musician has EARNED at least a hundred times over so far as angel is concerned. it's something akin to ADORATION, the way she regards him ; a purveyor of intimacy, an entrepreneur in the market of the fleeting flush of LUST, theodore novak is angel's right hand man ― he is the HYPNOTIC NEON STROBE that illuminates skin slick with glitter & sweat, the FILTHY BASS LINE that reverberates in her heart, her limbs, her hips ! even in the most intimate of dances with strangers, his p u l s e permeates every inch of the air around her. if they are close, it is by design. KISMET ! two sides of the same spinning coin, luring in eyes with each hypnotic revolution.

if angel disentangles herself from teddy only seconds after he appears at her side, it's not to create space ; she's listening to every word he says, in fact, and it's a rather IMPRESSIVE feat, the way she maintains contact with his gaze even as both her hands move to take one of his and push back his sleeve so she can clasp the diamond bracelet around his wrist. ( it's silver, and she's worked too hard on this outfit to CLASH over mixed metals ! ) a brow lifts from behind ornate disguise and glossed lips twist into a grin caught at crossroads between curious & confused. ❝ i'm sorry, baby, you said there's a what ? ❞

to be fair, angel is with him regardless ! he just wants to make sure he heard that right. and clearly, he did. ��� okay, no, but let some dirty ass ocean-dweller say one bad word about me and it will be be PETA reading me for filth ! i'll turn that bitch into a SEPTAPUS, slap her with her own tentacle. ❞ is he serious ? probably not. maybe ? there's not a chance for either of them to deliberate before angel is hooking his arm through teddy's again, setting her sights on the staircase a few dozen paces away. ❝ i'm not worried about getting in― ❞ the truth for a duo rarely denied access wherever they desire, ❝ ―but i have no idea how we're going to find it. what do you think ? start at the top and work our way down ? ❞

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂 … 𝚃𝙰𝚁𝙶𝙴𝚃 . *     ◟    :    𝗳𝗼𝗿 : 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹 .

𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 , even in the press of bodies. of course he does; what's the use of intimacy, if not this? he's lost more nights with angel than he's remembered with pretty much anyone else. teddy knows how she moves in a crowd like he knows his own name. well - poor point of comparison.

truth of the matter is, he can scout angel from a wasteland of suits and sequins for many reasons. take your pick. partly because, you know, look at her. they're all movement, all dynamic circles. in a room of calculated turns and closely held elbows, they stand out like a track turned twice the reverb of everything around it.

partly, sure, it's because teddy has danced with her long enough to read her body in the air. like wavelength; like forecasting. by this point (and what has it been? three, four years at the gravity?) he recognises the way she seesaws her way through open space. it used to be that he could time his music by it.

intimacy, see. who says the world above has a monopoly on it? gravity invented its own way of knowing. the only element that could've made this harder to guess - because there is a catch, always - is that, right now, they both have more clothes on than usual. theodore novak and angel cardona have a fucktruck of things in common, chief among which: forgettable they are not. on average, decent they are also not.

she is toying with something, when he spots her. a glass or a trinket; it catches the light like a lesser pair of eyes. teddy sidles up to them and hooks his arm around their elbow. ″ready, set, go? I heard there's a tarot-reading octopus on the higher floors. and like, I don't even care, ange. you're with me? we have to find a way in.‶

he clicks his teeth. somewhere behind him, chairs get pulled out. cards get pushed in. people's futures get timber-chopped at the poker table. not waiting for an answer, teddy fixes him with a levelled stare. ″have you, angel amadis, ever had a marine creature read you for filth? no? fucking thought so. what's the plan?‶

[mllechartreux]

Catches you Reading Smut

Summary: Reading the nasty around them.

Content: Suggestive themes, very meta. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Levi.

W/C: 1.5k

A/N: This was fun and cute to make, please enjoy!

Masterlist

Eren

Eren was sitting on the floor playing video games, his head resting between your legs on the couch. He had been playing Halo for the past hour while you scrolled through various social media sites before settling on reading fanfiction. Now while you weren’t specifically looking for smut, it was always a welcome bonus. In this one, the main character went home with the tattooist, and to top it all off, the tattooist was the tsundere type. Can you hear her purring? You squeezed your lips together to keep from squealing and smiling too hard, no other story could have scratched this itch better. You were scanning the screen, so engrossed in the hot, rough foreplay the characters were having you didn’t notice your thighs rubbing together. Well, it was assumed they were rubbing together. 

“The hell, Y/N?” he was in the middle of a campaign and couldn’t look at you, but it didn’t matter, you barely acknowledged him.

“Right babe,” completely unaware your thighs were rubbing against his cheeks while your core sat like a furnace on the back of his neck. Your characters were finally getting to the pentrative sex part when you started reading the lines on your hands. This would’ve been cool if you knew palmistry, and if you weren’t reading dirty, filthy smut just a second ago. Your entire body except your head froze as you looked up to see Eren had paused the game and was reading the fanfiction under his breath. 

“So what I’m getting from this is you’re so horny you have to read porn now too,”

“First of all, why are you snatching phones?” hoping your deflection would take, he chuckled darkly, it definitely didn’t take. 

“No, no, no baby that's not what we’re talking about,” green eyes hungry with lust as they stared at your poorly concealed nervousness, “matter of fact, you got more of these?” he asked, waving your phone in the air. 

“Yes,” you drawled, your breath getting shorter. 

“Well, since you treated my head like a watermelon why don’t you read more of these to me, it’s the least you can do for giving me a headache.” You couldn’t decide whether to groan at how dramatic he was or agree obediently with where this was headed. 

Mikasa

The two of you decided to do a cross country train ride. It was two weeks long, there were multiple stops and for some you even stayed in the city for a day, hotel included. The scenery was beautiful, the ambience calming, and the two of you were in bliss to be in each others’ company for such an extended amount of time. Currently, both of you were in the train sitting next to each other, and while she was occupied with painting Youtube videos, you were finishing a slow burn fanfic you’ve been savoring for the past 3 days. 26 chapters of ‘enemies to lovers’ goodness, filled with comedy, humiliation, and the teeniest bit of angst, and of course you can’t end an ‘enemies to lovers’ fic without smut. Your headphones were in, playing a playlist you had created the day you started reading this fic. So, the background music coupled with the heavily descriptive, sultry sex scene immersed you into its world, placing you as the main character. Next to you, your girlfriend was humming appreciatively at the different techniques and especially the cartoon inspired paintings. In one video, someone had drawn an impressively vivid portrait of the Steven Universe cast. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ as she watched the time-lapsed video, sweetly inspired to produce something similar.

“Love, do you think I could make this,” voice sweet and hopeful, yet still projecting down into her lap where she watched her phone. You didn’t hear her with your mind in the gutter and the bass booming in your ears from the slow, sensual song. When you didn’t answer she glanced over, noticing your eyes were slightly widened and the hand not on your phone was lifted to your face with your pinky nail in your mouth. Seeing you so concentrated piqued her curiosity, leaning into your side, her eyes drifted down to read what had you in such a daze. Your side warmed up and the hairs on the back of your neck tingled causing you to dart your eyes up to her face, looking like a deer in headlights. She continued to read for a moment before meeting your gaze and bringing a hand to your cheek, “I wish you would’ve told me earlier, we should share recs.” 

Your face softened and a glint in your eye accompanied the sly smile peaking through.  

Armin 

You joined Armin in his dorm room claiming his presence would help you focus better on ‘studying’. He was sitting at his desk, turned away from you, looking down at his laptop. He was always so studious and attentive, sometimes too much, but he did hold you accountable when you really wanted to get something done. However, you were really there to focus on writing a smutty fic for a new character you were obsessed with. You probably should’ve been working on homework but you gotta get it while the inspiration is flowing and the motivation is motivating. It was a childhood friends to lovers fic with A/B/O dynamics. You didn’t write A/B/O often but when your breeding kink got the better of you, it was the only thing you could write. You were already 4k words in when it was supposed to be only 2k but you were flowing. You even caught yourself laughing at some parts, “Ooo now that’s good.”

“What’s good babe?” he asked absentmindedly.

“Just how easy it is to work with you around,” smiling at him, it wasn’t really a lie. 

Armin had picked up on every time you made a comment, or flinched so hard you made a noise, or even the few times you squeaked. At first he didn’t put much thought into it, but he got suspicious when he figured you couldn’t be reacting this way towards a class you would've never given attention to if you weren’t here. He took a few peeks over at you lying on your stomach on his bed, finding it cute when your legs wiggled in the air. He didn’t really have a plan to find out what you were doing but it all worked out for him when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. When you came back and saw him sitting on the bed with one hand on your laptop and the other resting on his bulge, you stilled. Without looking up, “I didn’t know you were so filthy starfish.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself you replied, “It tends to come out when I’m feeling… needy, do you like it?” 

“I think you’re a genius, when you finish with it I’ll help you take care of your needs.”

Levi 

Levi had noticed for the past couple of days you weren’t getting as much sleep, and he didn’t know why. You were starting to move slower, your dark circles and eyebags could be seen from a mile away and worst of all you were making simple mistakes. It was after 9pm when Levi found you in the kitchen, sweeping with a mop. He was too stunned to say anything at first but quickly snatched the mop from your hands and replaced it with a broom, furrowing his eyebrows, “There can’t possibly be a sane reason for sweeping with a mop.”

You smiled at him sheepishly, eyes droopy, mouth opening to answer before closing and going back to sweeping.

“Y/N.”

“You said there wasn’t a sane reason,” you replied, still sweeping, unbeknownst to yourself you had been sweeping the same spot for the past 3 minutes. 

He snatched the broom from you, “Go get some sleep, you’re looking and acting shitty.”

You looked at him softly, giving him a peck on the cheek, “Eye eye captain,” making your way to your shared bedroom. 

These past couple of nights you couldn’t bring yourself to fall asleep until after 3am, you were currently engrossed in a story about a bodyguard pining after their charge. At first the bodyguard hated their charge but feelings started to develop between the two until they could no longer contain their love, and lust, for each other. It was delicious, and it was so hard to put down at night so of course you woke up tired and slightly delirious. You would read during the day but you had so many responsibilities so you took to reading during the night, on the plus side Levi didn’t go to bed until 4am so you weren’t bothering him with your reading. 

You sunk down beneath the covers and opened your phone ready to get a few more chapters in. An hour later, Levi walked into the bedroom expecting to see you sleeping or to help you if you were still awake. Thankfully you were asleep, laying on your side with your phone open and in your hand. He went to plug your phone into the charger when he caught a phrase on the screen, ‘tight hole’. He finished the chapter all while standing beside the bed before turning off your phone and plugging it up. He wondered how you would react if he recited such things to you, definitely determined to find out.

[wandsandwheezes]

Brat | G.W

George Fabien Weasley is a Brat tamer. This is not up for debate.

WARNINGS // SMUT 18+, rough sex, oral, throat fucking, brat, cheating, consensual relationship, breeding kink, dirty talk, degradation kink, daddy kink, dom/sub, brat taming, Husband!George <3

A/N // I can only apologise to my vanilla beans on this one... its pure, raw filth. 

The bass was pumping through your veins as you danced, swaying your hips to the beat against some poor man’s crotch, liquor glazed eyes locked only, however, on your boyfriend from across the dancefloor. He sat with his legs spread on a bar stool, his full body turned towards you as he observed your every movement. George wasn’t mad yet, you hadn’t quite pushed him far enough to get there but he could already feel his own possessiveness begin to creep up on him, while a part of him loved watching other men (and sometimes women) throw themselves at you, another part ached knowing full well he would always be the one to take you home.

Your hand was on the man’s chest as you leaned up to speak into his ear, shouting over the music. The way you pushed up onto your toes with that movement made your ass stick out perfectly, the skirt you were wearing riding up just enough to give your husband something to think about. You liked this game just as much as George did, having set out the clear rules of the relationship, way before you would have let things get this far; he didn’t stop you from kissing other girls at the clubs you went to, he couldn’t deny the way it made his cock twitch when he caught your lips locked with another girls. It would always drive him crazy, seeing you so needy but knowing that the true ache was only for him. You both drew the line at kissing other men however, unless you were searching for a particularly rough punishment, which tonight you were not; only wanting to play. 

Your hands were threaded in a gorgeous brunette’s soft shoulder length hair as you pulled her in for a kiss. She smelled divine, like the strongest flower in a whole garden and in that moment you were shocked to feel her pull a more dominant rank in the kiss, her hands firmly cupping your cheek as her tongue explored the dip and curve of your own. It was an unusual experience to be dominated by a woman but it was something you enjoyed, her touch more feminine than George's, but still just as firm, making you weak at the knees. She pulled away, ears pressed against your ear as she spoke.

“Guy in green by the bar can’t take his eyes off you, wanna give him something to stare at?” Your breath hitched in your throat as her lips trailed along your jaw, watching from across the dancefloor as he twiddled with the wedding band, no expression on his face but his eyes were locked on you. You breathed out a ‘yes’ in response to her, her hands coming up to grope at your ass as she went back in for another kiss. Something bubbled up inside George, wanting to tear you away but he was far too pleased with the show. So it seems, a few other men in the club, ogling at the sight of two gorgeous girls causing a scene. 

You loved the way other boys would stare, It drove George mad; making him all the more possessive and commanding. When you broke away from her lips again, you caught your husband’s eyes once more, watching as he lazily beckoned you to him with his middle and pointer fingers, his elbow resting against his knee. 

“Mm sorry, I’ll be back.” you whined against her lips as she tried to pull you back in, focused now only on George. She gave you a wink as you slipped from her grip, the burning eyes of your lover drinking in the sight of you, making his heart beat out of his chest in sync with the bassline of the pulsing song playing.

“What was that all about, doll, hm?” his hand found your hip as you nestled between his thighs, your head resting innocently on his shoulder as you caught your breath, still winded by the intense kiss. 

“You know I like it when other boys give me attention, daddy” your fingers raked delicately through his hair, knowing you’d pushed him to the right space, your eyes trailed away from him, causing you to tilt your chin up so that your eyes could lock, he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips. It was all too sweet for now and it seems he was easing you in gently. 

“And other girls it seems, is my cock not good enough for you, princess?” You were fully aware that you were surrounded by other people, but the dirty looks the two of you got never seemed to deter either of you, knowing full well that you loved each other deeply, trusting of one another so much that you could do things like this. His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out your wedding band, slipping it back onto your finger. The sign he was ready to take you home, already riled up enough by what he’d seen. 

“It really is such a shame you’re such a disobedient little brat, we could’ve had lots more fun tonight” His hand held yours as he pulled you through the crowds, slipping past the bodies till you reached a hall, making you stop in your tracks, crossing your arms. 

“I don’t want to go.” you pouted at him, feet planted firmly to the ground in protest, you'd gotten this far and you were more than ready to push your luck. He instead stood there waiting, not even attempting to continue to entertain your charade, no matter how bratty you wanted to be. You stood with silence between you as the thump of the bass filled the air, elevating the tension. 

“Ready to behave and be a good girl?” He spoke softly as she shoved his hands in his pockets, watching you shake your head as you stood your ground. 

“No? Wrong answer” He mocked, while he quickly spun on his heel, heading towards the exit, leaving you to call after him, stopping dead in his tracks when when you yell his name at him. "Where are you going, George?" 

“Where am I going? I’m leaving you here, daddy doesn’t take bratty girls home, since you want to stay so much.” His tone made you rethink your action, quickly falling to his heel as your arm wrapped around his, pressing yourself into his side to steady yourself as he guided you out of the club. 

“That changed your tune quickly, still… you need a lesson in obedience, I think.” You walked along the bustling streets of London, finding a small secluded alley to hide away before you are apparated back to yours and George's shared home. He wasted no time, having you pinned against the wall as he kissed you hungrily, showing exactly who was the dominant one as his grip tightened on your jaw. You let him kiss you like a filthy whore, even let him pull away to observe how your lipstick smeared so perfectly with his rough kisses. 

It wasn't long until he had you on your knees for him, hand wrapped around his shaft as you stroked him gently, but your teasing touches weren't enough for him, holding your jaw open with one hand as he slapped the tip of his cock against your begging tongue. His eyes burning into yours with every passing moment. 

"Does my desperate little brat want her mouth fucked, hm?" You nodded eagerly as you began to take his length in past your lips, attempting to bob your head, but every time he pulled back, tutting at you. His fingers running through your hair to pull it out of your face into a makeshift ponytail as he used his other hand to tease your mouth in the same way he did your cunt when you desperately wanted him, pushing his head just past your lips before pulling back out and repeating it 

"Open that throat up for me, doll, you ready?" you hummed a quick please off of your tongue before his cock was pushing into your mouth, hardly managing half of his length as the tip hit the back of your throat, causing the sound of a gag to echo through the room. His hand was on the back of your head, pushing your mouth to take him a little deeper before pulling out completely. Leaving you gasping for air as a trail of saliva connected his cock and your lips together, mouth open and ready again to take his length. 

"Just like that, princess" He praised as you took him in once again, this time gagging as he held your head in place to push himself as deep as you could take down your throat once again, you were getting there, you just needed the training before he could really make use of your mouth. You were eager this time he pulled away, taking another gasp of air before spitting into your hand, pumping his cock before letting him slip inside your mouth once again. You let him push, let him sink his entire length in your mouth, feeling his cock slipping down your throat with every push.

"That's my girl, take it all in darling" The symphony of moans that fell from his mouth were hidden by the fact that he could hardly function. He slowly began bucking his hips as he fucked your mouth, the room filling with wet gagging sounds as you choked over him, saliva falling from your lips whenever he gave you a breather. His hand was smoothing down the hair at the back of your head gently while his hips set their relentless pace. You enjoyed this as much as he did, moaning over him as you looked up at him with begging eyes. 

"You look so pretty with your mascara running down your cheeks, baby." he cooed as his thrusts grew rougher and slower, causing more tears to spill from your eyes, drawing his favourite gagging sound from your lips more and more often. 

"Fuck, I love your Throat." He moved you to the bed, letting you lie down on your back before he was fucking your mouth again, at first his slow thrusts were to watch the way his cock made your throat bulge, hand coming down to press against it, the sensation made him twitch but he held himself strong as he fucked your throat until you were begging between every breather. 

"Use your words, brat, what do you want?" 

You were taking deep breaths as you tried to voice what you needed from him, reserved only to needy whines and moans for him, causing him to stuff his cock inside your mouth once more. 

"Daddy doesn't understand whimpering, Princess, words only." He pulled from you again, this time you found the breaths within you to attempt to ask for what you wanted. 

"Fuck me, Please." You begged, eyes desperately searching for his as you reached for him. Still you took deep shallow breaths as you watched him walk around you like a predator stalking its prey. 

"You think bratty girls get their cunt fucked? You've been a very good girl tonight though, I may have to oblige." He didn't take much convincing before he was buried deep inside you hands gripped possessively to your hips as he set his pace, begs falling from your lips every time he hit your back wall. 

"Want me to fill you with my cum, angel? Fuck a baby nice and good into your belly?" His delicious words ripped a moan from your throat as his hands brushed your hair out of your eyes, it didn't take long for you to be on edge, thumb rubbing across your clit as he fucked you. The way you squeezed around him as you came helped milk him of his cum, feeling it drip from your cunt as he pulled out. 

"You've been such a good girl, let's get that makeup off your face, hm?" He reached into your bedside table drawer, grabbing the makeup wipes, using one to glide along your tear stained cheeks, part of him guilty to remove such a stunning mark left on your face. He took extra care in gently caressing your skin as you came down from your orgasm. 

He ran you a bath, sitting outside of the tub as he helped clean the sticky sweat from your skin, massaging your scalp as he washed your hair and making sure that you were comfortable, relaxed and feeling safe. He had pushed you far this evening and it was only fair to check in and make sure you were happy and satisfied. 

He carried your clean body to bed, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you. you snuggled into your fresh, clean sheets that your husband had prepared, waiting for his presence in bed patiently, immediately feeling safe the second he was next to you. 

"Georgie, I was thinking… What if we stopped using the contraception spell?" His eyes went wide, pulling you into a cuddle as he hummed in satisfaction, fingers finding yours to tangle together. Bringing your hand up to press a kiss to your wedding band.

"I love you, If you're ready to be a parent, we can try for a baby, as many times as it needs, if you want a baba, we'll have one, Princess."

TAGLIST // @starlightweasley​​ @slytherinsunrise​​  @gcdric​​​ @theweasleysredhair​​​ @whiz-bangs78​​​ @vogueweasley​​ @minty-malfoy​​​ @vivianweasley​​​​ @feetoffthetablee​​​ @thisismynerdyself​​​ @witch-and-a-half​​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​​ @rip-us​​ @hopemalfoyweasley​​ @pigwidgexn​​  @pansydaisy​

[lunapaper]

Album Review: 'HOLY FVCK' - Demi Lovato

Holy fvck really is the perfect way to describe the past few years for Demi Lovato.  

In 2018, the singer suffered a near-fatal overdose, which left her legally blind. She came out as non-binary, preferring to go by she/they pronouns. She became the ambassador for a conspiracy theory website. She revisited past trauma on 2021’s Dancing with the Devil... The Art of Starting Over. She had beef with that frozen yoghurt store, which drew criticism from fans and critics alike. 

Lovato now channels all their fear, longing and fury into big, chugging, metal-inspired riffs and snarling pop punk on her eighth album. But while everyone and their mother seems to be jumping on the bandwagon, trying to score a collab with Travis Barker in the hopes of becoming the next Olivia Rodrigo, Lovato’s love of rock, metal and emo is true. Not too long ago, they recounted the time she crowdsurfed at Norwegian black metal band Dimmur Borgir’s show as a teenager in an attempt to evade the moshpit. 

And Lovato wears her influences proudly on her sleeve. 

First single ‘SKIN OF MY TEETH’ is a formidable tribute to Hole’s ‘Celebrity Skin.’ ‘Demi leaves rehab again/When is this shit gonna end?’ Lovato drawls as she longs to be free of her much-publicised demons (‘but I can’t ‘cos it’s a fuckin’ disease’). ‘SUBSTANCE’ owes a lot to Jimmy Eat World’s ‘The Middle,’ the singer searching for meaning in an increasingly shallow and fragmented world. Though it’s kinda ironic that Lovato would decry a lack of substance in the world while choosing to align herself with a platform that pushes misinformation… 

‘EAT ME’ is vicious and ragged, with Royal and the Serpent’s Ryan Santiago providing the sickly-sweet yin to Lovato’s raspy yang. It wouldn’t have looked too out of place on Poppy’s I Disagree, at the same time maintaining a Muse-like grind. The title track has a slinky groove and dirty, filthy bass akin to The Pretty Reckless, with riffs like flames licking at the walls and Lovato revelling in the leather-clad melodrama. Standout ‘BONES’ has ‘Trouble’s Coming’-era Royal Blood in its blood, an underrated cut of salacious disco punk that has the singer wanting to jump a lover’s bones (natch). 

HOLY FVCK is as preoccupied with the sexual as it is the sacramental, Lovato making her desires known while burning down the toxic purity cult that Disney kept her imprisoned in for so many years. 

‘HEAVEN’ is a dizzy, wailing ode to self-love channelling Marilyn Manson’s ‘Beautiful People,’ with Lovato trying to reconcile the deeply-held Catholic beliefs of their family with masturbation, inspired by Matthew 5:30 (‘If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off, because it’s better to lose one part of your body than your entire body to hell’). She plans on christening every square inch of LA in every position possible on SUM 41-style filthfest, ‘CITY OF ANGELS.’   

’29,’ however, is a much, much darker.  

‘Thought it was a teenage dream, just a fantasy/But was it yours or was it mine?’ Lovato spits back, allegedly at their ex, Wilmer Valderrama, a grimy, gasoline rainbow of a rock banger that’s since become an empowering catch-cry for hundreds of women on TikTok who’ve also been preyed on by older men. The singer doesn’t hold back, offering up skin-crawling lines such as ‘Just five years a bleeder, student and a teacher/Far from innocent, what the fuck's consent?’ But it’s definitely among the most cathartic of HOLY FVCK’s tracks, its chorus thrashing like a wild animal that’s burst out of its cage. 

The crux of the album, though, lies with ‘HAPPY ENDING.’  

‘Am I gonna die trying to find my happy ending?’ Lovato wonders, ‘And will I ever know what it's like.’ It paints a brutal portrait of the realities of addiction, never truly free of her demons. It also has a lot in common with her 2018 track, ‘Sober,’ released after suffering a relapse, but this time, Lovato seeks to turn hopelessness into something hopeful. ‘The feeling I hope that people take away from listening to this song is that I hope they don’t feel alone,’ she told fans via her website. ‘In this song, it’s talking about feeling so hopeless but I want my fans to know they’re never alone and someone has felt this way before and made it out of it.’ 

Then we reach the halfway mark, and the album’s tension begins to wane, Lovato soon retreating into the inoffensive Disney pop rock of years past (bar ‘DEAD FRIENDS,’ of course). The scuzzy sleaze rock of ‘HELP ME’ (featuring Emily Armstrong of LA rock trio Dead Sara), however, is a bright spot, taunting and swaggering back at the listener ‘thanks for your useless information’ and shoving their pointless opinions back in their faces. 

If you’re gonna go full rock and metal, complete with the metal-style V in the album title and the bondage and crucifix imagery to match, then commit. Why hold a ‘funeral’ for your pop music if you’re just gonna end up getting cold feet halfway through and end up resurrecting its corpse? 

HOLY FVCK is a long overdue burst of anger from Lovato. Rather than wallow in her pain, she revels in it, entices it and grabs it by the fucking throat – at least for the first half of the record.  

It could also do with a little subtlety: For every stark confession, there’s a cliched platitude or goofy lyric. Lovato’s boasts of being ‘ungodly but heaven-sent' can also come off as trying too hard at times. 

Still, ‘[y]ou can’t have light without dark,’ Lovato recently told the LA Times. ‘The dichotomy was really important to me, and I had to take my anger out of the shadows in order to heal. I am owning my dark side, and it doesn’t have to take me down.’  

And by doing so, she’s never sounded better. Hopefully Lovato keeps fvcking things up like this… 

- Bianca B. 

[quixotic-writer]

I’m Always On Top

Request: Anon(s)

Summary: It started out as a fun game between Sal and Q at the gay bar they found themselves at: get as many drinks and as drunk as you can. Jealousy soon takes over Sal and it leads to the two going home. But Sal decides to try and put Q in his place by playing dominant and taking the role of top for the evening. But as Q had always said: “i’m always on top.”

—————————————————————————

They had come to the bar together with friendly competition in the back of their heads: get as many free drinks as they can. It wasn’t just any bar, it was the local gay bar. It didn’t matter who won, the only thing they cared about was that they go home together.

The music was flooding the club and people of all walks of life from anywhere you could imagine were swaying and moving in tune with the music. Those who were sitting at the bar or leaning against it were engaged in their own social exchanges. With a shot in their hands, they toasted to each other.

“May the best man drink.” Q said. Glasses raised and it was down the hatch in a second. A shot of confidence burned their throats and they split from one another and made their way through the bar. Q had found himself sitting at the bar and someone was quick to approach him and give a little bit of sweet talk while flagging a bartender down. Sal felt a pinch of discouragement when no one was as quick to approach him, but he would soon find his confidence once he worked his personable charm.

As Q was in his seat, his eyes wandered and saw Sal across the bar. He was talking it up with a bunch of people, eyes hungry and eating him up as his hands moved around as he talked. One hand held a drink and there was another one sitting in front of him along with a little shot glass. Q felt proud of him in a weird way, managing to finesse that many drinks in such a short period of time was truly a feat. He would have thought that he would have been jealous, but for some reason he didn’t. He was absolutely crazy for Sal and he knew had those same feelings, but within Sal, that crazed love was something magnified to significant levels.

Sal was the one who got jealous, probably because he knew of Q’s vast and diverse fan base that would thirst over him and would often be all he saw online. Q could have anyone he wanted really, and he often worried if he was enough. This led to fits of jealousy and clinginess for Sal, a reaction he wished he could better control but it always got the better of him.

The night continued and drinks flowed endlessly. Q was on his 7th or maybe 8th drink and he was off on the dance floor, completely forgetting about the little competition he had agreed to for the night. Sal had totally lost track of his drink count as shots were poured endlessly. He was absolutely intoxicated, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been bought so many drinks, it made him feel special in a way. His eyes looked around for Q as he decided to slow things down a bit and sober up a little with some water. When his eyes found his boyfriend, hot anger filled him in a second.

Q was out dancing with guys all around him, not a care in the world. In his drunken brain, Sal believed that Q didn’t care about him at that moment. He was quick to leave his spot at the bar and make a bee line over to his boyfriend. He quickly grabbed him by his shirt collar and smashed his lips against his. When he pulled away, Q was excited to see him.

“Hey Sally! Surprised you don’t have a drink in your hand.” Sal glared at every one that was feeling up Q and they all quickly backed away. He reconnected their lips and quickly darted his tongue into Q’s mouth and Q moaned at the sensation, bringing Sal in closer to him. The tempo and bass of the music was vibrating in them as they flowed to the tune, hips sinfully close and grinding together. Sal finally pulled away just to catch his breath and Q was left almost speechless, hungry for something else.

“I think we’ve had enough to drink… Let’s go.” Sal said in a very demanding tone. It took Q aback a little, but took it as Sal being needy for some sexual relief after their little stunt on the dance floor together. He agreed with his lover and they called a cab.

When they reached home and made their way to the bedroom, Sal was quick and rough with his movement. He ripped open Q’s button down, exposing his chest and his lips were quickly attached to the skin leaving hickeys all over and everywhere his lips could reach as fast as possible.

“Fuck, Sal. Slow down baby.” Q felt Sal attempting to overpower him, and he didn’t even know what brought this on. But, if he kept this up, Q wasn’t afraid to put him back in his place.

Sal ignored Q as clothing was shed away. Layer after layer until they were in nothing but their boxers. Q was sitting at the edge of the bed, Sal was straddling him. Lips were intertwined, only occasionally leaving when each of them were painting the other’s skin with bruises. Their lips were smacking together, moans loud in their throats, and then Sal made the next move. He shoved Q back into the bed and was over him.

“You’re fucking mine.” He mumbled harshly before he bit down onto the flesh of Q’s neck earning a groan from him. The next thing Sal knew, there was a hand on his throat. Q sat up straight with Sal’s face mere inches away from his and a hand was gripping the sides of his throat, nothing threatening or endangering in the slightest, but something to earn dominance back. It showed signs of working as Sal let out a little whimper.

“What is your deal tonight?” Sal’s dominance quickly began melting away as Q began taking control, “I try to have fun tonight and you cut in, and now you’re trying to top me?”

“They were all over you Brian.” He mustered out trying to keep a brave face. He tried to resist falling into submission, but the way Q was looking at him, the way his hand was on his neck, the posture he was holding, he knew this momentary bliss of being in the dominant role would soon dissipate.

“Because you’re being a little brat you think you’re all of a sudden dominant sweetheart?” Regret filled Sal as he felt an impending punishment coming clear into view, and it was, once again, because he let his jealousy get the better of him. The rush of momentary power was exhilarating, but not worth the cost of the punishment he was about to receive. “I’m always on top.”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry, what?” Sal was now backed down to lay in the bed as Q hovered over him with lust filled eyes.

“I’m sorry daddy! Please!” Q chuckled as he watched Sal squirm beneath him. He rubs his hand over his clothed erection earning more whimpers as his back arches, seeking more contact from the dominant.

“You’re only saying that because you’re in trouble.” His lips made contact with Sal’s bare skin and littered the untainted skin with marks of his own. His hands were delicate, finger tips tracing over his skin making goosebumps form wherever he touched. Sal’s skin felt like it was on fire. The juxtaposition of Q’s careful hands and his rough mouth made him strain painfully against his boxers, aching for more as he tangled a hand into Q’s hair, physically begging for more sensations, and above all: friction. “You don’t get to cum ‘til I say. Got it?” Q reached underneath the bed and pulled out a box of toys that they had begun collecting since they had been together.

“Please just touch me, I'm sorry, please I need you! I won’t do it again, I'm sorry!” Q promptly removed Sal’s boxers, watching as he sprung free and was twitching like crazy already. This was gonna be fun.

“I don’t want to hear anymore. You’ll learn now. On your stomach.” Sal listened, not wanting anything to be worse. He dreaded what Q was about to do to him, but at the same time, it sent a pleasurable chill down his spine that made pulsate. He felt Q’s hands smooth over the curve of his ass before his cold fingers found their way to Sal’s entrance. He let out a shaky sigh before lube covered fingers found their way in him and stretched him out.

One finger, then another, then another was added. Each time he was stretched out more, the louder his pleasured noises became. Strained mewls, prolonged moans, throat wrenching gasps.

“You should hear yourself, you filthy slut. Making so many noises already and you only have my fingers in you.” The dirty talk only made Sal’s hips buck backward into the fingers that slid in and out of him. His cock was rubbing against the sheets below him and only added to his growing pleasure. His eyes were closed as he savored each sensation. “You take my fingers so well though, don’t you? I know just how to make you feel good, I know you in and out, and I know just how to get you off.” His hot breath was in his ear and it only brought him closer and closer to ecstasy. Truly Q was the only person that knew just how to pleasure him, and his confidence in knowing that as a fact was so hot.

“God, daddy. More! I’m gonna cum!” After that last sentence fell out of his mouth, Sal was left empty as Q removed his fingers. “No, please!”

“Remember sweetheart, you’re getting punished. If you cum at all, it’ll only be worse for you.” Q sat himself on the bed with a hitachi wand in his hand. Back against the headrest, he pulled Sal between his legs and had him resting against his chest. Sal could feel his hard on pressing against his ass, he was always impressed with the will power Q had when it came to being hard. When he fell into a dominant position, he held himself back. Q found more sexual gratification in pleasuring others than himself.

Q placed the wand aside for the moment, and instead, his hand took grasp of Sal’s now leaking cock. A shallow pump around the head of his cock easily made Sal’s hips jerk off the bed and hands grip at the thighs that encased him where he was.

“So sensitive already baby?” Q teased as his hand kept pumping Sal. Sal watched, hypnotized by the hand moving up and down, watching as the tip of his cock poked between the top of Q’s fist only to disappear once again as it rose again. Q would twist his fist, tighten his grip, and kiss and lick at Sal’s exposed skin as he pleasured him, savoring the noises that came out of the submissive. “Tell me baby, tell me how it feels.” Sal was gasping for air and almost felt like he would never be able to form a sentence with the amount of blissed out fog that clouded his brain. “Tell me or I'll stop now and go to bed.” The commanding tone forced Sal’s lips to part as he tried to form anything, something comprehensible.

“It feels… mmm… so… so good. I… I can’t… I–”

“Can’t what sweetheart?” The innocent tone felt mocking. It frustrated Sal as all he wanted to do was cum.

“I just… I just wanna… Cum!” Sal’s hips started bucking into Q’s fist, and Q kept his hand still for just a moment. He watched as Sal tried so desperately to please himself, but as soon as he knew that he was dangerously close, he took his hand away and watched again as Sal squirmed and whined.

“Not so fast Sally. Good things come to those who wait.” He lays tender kisses on the sides of his face and his shoulder as his hands smooth over the skin of his inner thighs, so close to being where Sal wanted them, but never giving him the satisfaction. A hand strayed away and took the hitachi wand that was set aside. “I know just how much you love this toy. The many times I've had you tied up,” he switches it on, low hum filling the room, “left you for hours just to see how much you had in you.” He glides it along Sal’s thighs, hovering around his most sensitive spots where he could sense the vibrations but feel none of the sensation he craved.

Q took the wand and ran it quickly on the underside of Sal’s cock and watched him moan and squirm. Sal kept trying to keep Q’s hand where he wanted it, kept trying to gain some control over everything, but it was no use because Q would simply overpower Sal and pull away, straying him away from climax.

“You’re so impatient.” The teasing went on for what felt like forever to Sal. Circles around the head of his cock, delicate strokes at the base, vibrator held under his balls. No matter how much Sal begged, whined, pleaded, and apologized, it seemed as though Q had tuned him out fully and was getting pure enjoyment out of the sadistic sexual torture he was putting his boyfriend through. He loved watching how much Sal’s cock was twitching at the faintest sensation, how much precum was slowly spilling out of his slit, and all the noises that made that made his own cock pulsate and twitch. He would let out an occasional moan or grunt whenever Sal would buck his hips, causing a little bit of friction on his cock that rested against his back, or whenever he made a particularly delicious sound.

After a while, Sal had once again lost all ability to remotely let out any words that would make any sort of sense. His speech skills had withered away as he drowned in his own pleasure as a means to reach his high that he knew he wouldn’t get to until Q gave him the word.

“Why don’t we have a little change in pace?” Q turned the vibrator off and Sal was yet again left to step away from the edge of euphoria as he was so close once again. He was panting and he looked at his cock; Slick with precum, the once rose colored tip was now red and begging for release, he could feel his crotch pulsating. He was panting and he felt spent but he hadn’t even gotten to cum yet. Q stepped away and reached into the box of toys once again, pulling out a decent sized dildo and giving it to Sal. “Go ahead, pleasure yourself for me.” Sal felt almost like it was a joke, that there was going to be something more. He didn’t question though as he teased his eager hole with the tip of the dildo, pushing himself up against some pillows on the bed and spreading his legs. Q sat across from him, legs touching Sal’s as he watched his lover’s movements closely.

Sal relished in the sensation of the dildo entering him. It didn’t feel nearly as good as Q does, but after the time spent left on edge and feeling empty after Q had removed his fingers, this felt like heaven for him. Slowly, he pushed it all the way in up until the base and he held his motions still, taking in the full sensation that he craved as his head rolled back and his eyes closed, a breathy moan and relieved sigh filled the quiet room.

“Go ahead baby, make as much noise as you want. You know I love it. Put on a show.” Per his request, Sal went on to make a sinfully gorgeous and pornographic display just for his lover. He kept his motions fluid and sensual, biting his lip but never holding back on any noises, mewling out a little ‘yes’ or ‘fuck’ here and there, eyes half hooded and going back and forth between eye contact with Q and his cock that he was stroking in a tight fist. “Tell me how it feels sweetheart.”

“Oh, daddy! It feels so… mmm… so fucking good.” Sal felt himself start to get close again and watching Q get himself off as hard as he was wasn’t helping him hold out at all.

“Yeah?” Q was close, he felt as though he had been teasing himself all evening, but neglecting his own pleasure for however long they had been encased in the bedroom was well worth witnessing the display of sexual torture he had been putting Sal through. He was sadistic, but he knew Sal loved it, it was evident by how much Sal was loving it now.

“Fuck yeah… But it doesn’t feel nearly… nearly as good as you.” He had to take pauses between his words to let out more pleasurable noises, hoping that if Q came, he would get to as well. “Your thick cock in my ass… tearing me in two… and you know… you know I love the pain.” Sal had hit a particularly sweet spot inside of himself and he almost toppled over. He started slowing his movements more despite wanting to cum so badly, but he didn’t want a worse punishment. He knew the next consequence would be not cumming at all or not being able to cum for a period of time no matter how often they had sex.

“I fuck you so good, huh, baby? Better than that piece of silicone you have in your ass? I know you love it rough, I know you love the torture. You just love being dominated, being played with, my little fuck toy.” Q’s fist tightened more and his hand was a blur as he chased his high.

“I want you to fuck me so bad daddy.” Q didn’t need to hear anything else, he was all over Sal. He quickly threw the dildo aside and locked lips with Sal, grinding their hard-ons together as tongues swirled about.

“I’m gonna fuck you better than you ever could with that dildo.” He grunted as he lined himself up with Sal’s entrance.

“Fuck me ‘til I can’t walk.” Q’s eyes met Sal’s in that moment, his normally tender cocoa eyes were gleaming with love, but now, they were filled with a fire ignited from within that spelled out one word: lust.

Q bucked his hips and almost knocked the wind out of Sal in that single motion.

“Gonna cum!” The dirty talk, finally feeling Q inside of him, and the (what felt like) hours of teasing is starting to send him into a spiral of blinding ecstasy.

“You fucking better not! You better hold it in, you do not get to cum yet.” Sal raked his fingers down Q’s back, doing his best to hold on and hold back for his own sake. Tears were streaming down his face, half of it was from pleasure, half of it was from pain because he had been holding back for so long already. Sal’s lips were parted as painful and pleasured cries fell out of his mouth. “That’s right, let the neighbors hear how bad you’ve been, let them know who owns you.”

“Daddy! Please! I… I can’t! I…” It started to become painful, he knew he could safeword at any time and it would be over, but he had come this far and he was going to deal with his punishment. As Q continued thrusting, he felt Sal tighten around him and he felt like he was seeing stars as he was just at the edge,

“Gonna… Fucking… Cum!” With a few rough, slow thrusts, Q buried himself to the hilt as he released himself into Sal with a long moan. Both men were panting, but Q knew that it wasn’t over just yet. He took Sal’s cock in hand and started pumping him hard and fast in a tight fist, “C’mon baby you wanted it so bad, take it. Cum for me!” Sal was practically screaming as he came explosively all over his chest in big thick spurts. Q kept pumping him and pumping him until Sal felt as though there was nothing left in him.

Once his orgasm had finished ripping through him, both were left on the bed panting, exhausted from their strenuous night.

“You Okay?” Q asked as he shifted his head to look at Sal. He didn’t say anything but nodded his head to respond. “You know I'm crazy for you and only you, right?”

“I know,” Sal spoke softly. “I guess it was a bit of the alcohol and my jealousy problems again. You’re just so good looking and I just feel like you could have anyone you want.”

“But I chose you. And I will always choose you.” Sal looked over and smiled. Their lips met in a soft kiss and they giggled together. “Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. I bet you’re tired as hell… You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I promise. Even though it was torture, one of the best orgasms I ever felt.” They got up off the bed and went into the bathroom,

“So good you’d want me to do it again?” Q teased.

“Not for a fucking long while!”

“Or whenever your jealousy gets the best of you again and you try to top again.” Q laughed and Sal felt a little ashamed because of it.

“I don’t even know what possessed me to even try and do that.”

“Jealousy.” Sal just rolled his eyes as he stepped into the shower. “C’mon Sally you know i’m just teasing. You love me.” He stepped in behind Sal and peppered his cheek with kisses,

“I guess I do.” He said with a smirk.

[1997devil]

magic, madness, heaven, sin

pairing: joshua x fem reader

w.c.: 2.5k (oops)

includes: one night stand!shua, mentions of infidelity in the beginning, mentions of alcohol, lots of dirty talk (praises), slight oral (male receiving), protected(!!!) sex

-

the strobe lights of the nightclub amplify the pounding of your headache from the shots you’d downed in succession. you welcome it anyways, for it succeeds in chasing away the visions of the man who you’d dumped just hours before this.

he’d been your everything, and your mother would account for how much you’d loved him, from all the gushing about him that you did during your weekly phone calls. it definitely was your fault for the breakup because it definitely was your fault you caught him kissing the girl he said was nothing but a close friend from work. you figured they were pretty close enough with the way he shoved his tongue into her mouth, hands ghosting over her chest.

the worst part was, they were doing it in your living room. the very room you’d poured all of your soul into, making weekly trips to ikea and antique stores to find the little trinkets you knew would shape the perfect ambiance. you’d flung the promise ring he had slotted onto your left ring finger at him, aiming directly at the crown of his hair you’d spent hours carding your fingers through. he only barely managed to catch a glimpse of you as you hurried back out of the apartment, needing to be anywhere but there, the very place you’d dubbed your safe spot. the taxi driver had only inquired where your destination was and was kind enough to offer you some tissues when you’d arrived at the nearest nightclub, after hearing sniffles from his backseat.

you can still feel the weight of the ring that had been on your finger, fiddling with it out of habit only to not find it in its place as it should be. anger rises at your throat and your fingers wrap around the glass to down the drink – gibson, dry as he liked it. your eyes glaze over the space, skimming over strangers’ heads dancing on the dance floor, the bass of the dj set resonating from the walls and into your ears. it lures you from your spot at the bar to the dance floor, not caring your drink is spilling everywhere from bumping into bodies swaying to the beat.

you find a space somewhere in the corners and you just casually nod along to the music, sipping from your cocktail. despite a part of you still clinging to the past, the other part of you feels free, like a bird set free from its cage. you feel yourself losing to the swimming feeling induced by the alcohol in your veins. you manage to bring yourself back to the bar when you fear your ankles might snap from the way you sway in your heels, safely disposing yourself on one of the plush chairs lining the marble-tiled bar.

you go back to languidly scanning across the cramped room until your eyes land on a man weaving in and out of your sight among the throng of the people on the dance floor. he seems to be with two of his other friends, one with dyed silver hair that seems to sparkle in the strobe lights and another one with cropped brown hair and a godlike facial structure you can pinpoint even from far away.

you keep your eyes trained on the first guy you spotted. something simmers within you as you not so equivocally check him out: is he wearing a sheer shirt? and is that the glint of a silver ear cuff on his right ear? all of a sudden you meet his eyes and the drunken fog in your mind seems to clear up in a snap.

the pitter-patter of your heart rings louder than the booming bass as you watch him whisper something to one of his friends before he turns away and walks towards you. he’s even more beautiful as he comes closer to you, what with his catlike eyes and pink lips that leave you dying to know how they taste. you notice there’s a swipe of eyeshadow on his lids as the hoods of his eyes drop as he finally arrives at his destination.

“hello,” the man starts, voice tinged with a drop in an octave that sends honey dripping down your spine, “something caught your attention?”

you preen at being caught for checking him out so blatantly but you manage to keep your composure. “if i say it’s you, what would i get?”

he chuckles. “you’ll see.”

you run the risk of being bold, and your finger goes up to play with the dangly cuff on his right earlobe. “this did.”

his hands – goodness they’re huge, wouldn’t that mean that – wrap around your wrist, and he leaves a light kiss on your knuckles before he drops it to your side, fingers still holding on.

“you can call me joshua.” you recall ever hearing this nickname being shouted in a grainy instagram story by one of your friends, and come to think of it, it was uploaded with a geotag that led to this same club. “what about you?”

––

there’s an odd flashback yet not out of place as joshua drags you by the wrist towards the restrooms somewhere near the back of the club. it makes you feel like a dumb university student once more, looking to relieve the stress of submitting essays and final assessments. the thick concrete of the walls mute the music a bit and you can hear the voice in your head sounding urgent alarms and telling you to stop. you don’t listen to the bells as your hands grip joshua’s belt to tug him closer to you.

joshua leans into you, and your arms travel to rest on his chest, unleashes a weight on him that’s dizzying and thrilling.

“is there a man i should be worried about?”

“was.” you can barely let a word out without choking at the feeling of him skittering kisses along your jawline. that’s all he needs to hear.

he shoves a leg in between yours, telling you to grind your clothed core on his thigh.

you harshly pant as you rut your core onto his leg, the friction of the material of his trousers against your bare thigh sending you into a frenzy. “baby’s already so needy,” joshua smirks before he dips his head and closes the distance to meet your mouth, effectively shutting you up, swallowing your gasps.

it’s filthy and sweet, tasting the cranberry juice from joshua’s tongue. he holds you firmly with his fingers on your jaw, lets you lick deeper into his mouth, swallows every whimper that drips from your throat. when you separate there’s a sheen on your swollen lips and joshua just wants to taste from it all night long. the desperation in your tummy grows tenfold the more he tells you to keep grinding, even bouncing his leg which sends jolts all over your body.

joshua shoves you off of his leg right before you come, and it takes all of your willpower to separate yourself. (joshua can hardly admit just how hard he got from hearing your sob at stopping you right before you hit your high.) both of you unanimously agree that fucking in the club bathroom is for college students who still have the shamelessness and suave to pull it off, so you manage to leave the place and hail a cab and joshua mutters his address before he turns to you again, hands heavy on your thigh as he presses kisses to your shoulder and cheek.

he grabs your hand once more when you palm him over his pants, and you can already feel how he needs it just as badly as you do. he brings it up to his lips, pressing kisses onto the knuckles which muffles his dirty words so the driver can’t hear. “you’ll be good for me, won’t you, baby? wait till i get home so i can fuck you like you were begging me in the club?” you think your voice will crack if you vocally respond so you just nod in an albeit urgent manner, letting him know just how desperate you are.

you manage to hand the driver the bills and thank him before you slip out of the cab and up the stairs into joshua’s apartment. joshua doesn’t know how he manages to unlock the door, haphazardly pulling his shoes off and take you to the bedroom with the way you’re pressing warm kisses to his neck, but he manages to do so and presses you against the door.

your cheeks are flushed even under the harsh lighting of his bedroom and soft giggles leave your lips, and a part of joshua that’s still sober even from all the drinks seungcheol shoved towards him at the club earlier flutters, thinking to himself just how beautiful you look even when you’re half wrecked from your ministrations in the club restroom.

joshua kisses you again, hands working to unzip your dress as he turns you towards the bed, before the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress and has you lay over his sheets.

he just about growls when he finally gets your dress off and sees the lacey white lingerie that frames and decorates your body. he’s entranced by the way the lace lines your chest to your stomach, no doubt the bottoms are ruined from how wet and desperate you were from riding his thigh. it’s enough to make him shudder, eyes growing darker at how he just wants to fuck you already.

“do you like it?” you ask, slightly muffled by your hand right above your mouth, shy yet with a wide smile.

he bends down, leaves butterfly kisses trailing from your tummy to your neck, where he sucks marks that your coworker will probably see. “you look beautiful, sweetheart. did you get all dressed up? hope someone would fuck you so good so you’d forget about him?”

“y-yeah,” you punctuate your answer with a high pitched moan when he suckles on your sweet spot.

his fingers press onto your clothed core, right where the wet spot smears the fabric. he rubs small figure eights, and it makes you grip onto his arm as a means of grounding yourself from the pleasure. under the clasp of your fingers on his arm do you realize he’s still clothed, and you tug on his sleeve as a signal.

he chuckles at feeling you tug and hearing you whine, so he straightens back up and takes his time unbuttoning his shirt. your eyes are glazed over when he pushes the clothes off of his shoulder, revealing his body you knew wasn’t so bad from the way your palms were running along his chest and back.

it feels like forever watching him unbuckle his belt and you know he’s purposefully dragging it out to tease you. you huff before you rise from the sheets, your impatient hands slapping his away so you can unzip his pants yourself. his trousers and briefs come off in one go, and his cock stands against his stomach, already hard and leaking pearls of precome right at the tip.

you’re overcome with the urge to tease him back so you slowly take his length into your mouth. joshua’s hand immediately comes up to tangle in your hair, and you whine at the delicious tug of his fingers finding purchase amidst your locks. you run your tongue at the underside of his cock, tracing the prominent veins which has him groaning so deeply.

you work him up even more than he already was, and he tugs you off right as he’s about to come. your lips are slick and cherry red from your act and joshua swoops to kiss you again, tasting his own release from your mouth as he slowly lays you back down on the bed.

joshua deftly unhooks your bra, and nearly rips your underwear off, laying you bare right in front of him. “my goodness,” he hums as he pushes you up towards the headboard, laying on his pillows. “you’re so pretty, sweetheart,” biting and suckling on your nipples as he keeps his glimmering eyes on your face, watching as you throw your head back from the pleasure. “i haven’t even put my cock in you and you’re already so wrecked, hm? so pliant, so desperate, all ready for me?”

he lifts himself from you again to grab a condom in his nightstand drawer, and your hands can’t seem to settle as he slips it on his length, warm hands pushing your ankles and thighs to widen your legs. “are you nervous, baby?”

“k-kinda,” you mumble, watching as he comfortingly runs his hand on your thighs. “h-haven’t done this with anyone else in a bit,” all the boldness in you from the club earlier simmering down now that joshua’s really about to fuck you.

“-ssokay, sweetheart,” his voice drops into a low rumble that makes your tummy flutter yet again., “i’ll take care of you,” he comes closer to you, pressing his lips to yours to distract you from the feeling of him pushing into your core. you’re so wet that he slides in with ease, and the burn melts into pleasure that tickles you all the way to your fingertips. your hands circle around his neck, keeping him close to you. the combination of his gentle kisses and the thrust of his hips rips sweet moans from your throat that joshua gladly drinks up.

“fuck,” he groans as your walls squeeze around him, “s-so tight, so g-good,” he slurs as he continues to thrust, “you take me in so well, don’t you, sweetheart? so nice and–f-fuck –so warm for me.” he continues praising you as you chase your high, his words getting to you, the hold of your arms around his shoulders tightening.

“you gonna come for me, baby? gonna come on my c-cock?” he grunts, pressing into you, not even an inch of space between your bodies.

“y-yes, please, make me come,” you cried out, losing yourself to how good joshua is making you feel. joshua thrusts a bit more until the coil in you finally snaps, not even needing to verbalize how close you are as you reach your orgasm, whining a mixture of joshua’s name and incoherent garbles masked as moans, joshua swallowing every single sound that comes out of your mouth. he fucks into you once, twice before coming, tipped over at your walls clamping down on his cock as you came, you curling your fingers in his jet black hair. you stay like this for a while, joshua riding out your orgasm languidly until you brokenly whine, practically crying at this point at how good he feels.

your vision blurs as he slips out, disposes his condom, before returning with a wet washcloth to clean you up. he slips a random t-shirt he grabbed from his closet onto your bare body, the hem coming down to right above your thighs. you feel like putty as he takes care of you, his voice lulling you as he speaks his last praises, keeping you awake until he slips to behind you underneath the covers. he presses a kiss and a “goodnight” to your temple before he drifts off. 

(you’re just thankful he doesn’t kick you out the second he’s done fucking you. maybe you could get used to this.)