#THE SMIRKS 🫡🫡

[issatalk]

best cc edit of the year

this is THAT cc edit

[isatoru]

oliver aiku is a “yes ma’am” ass boyfriend for those with the eyes to see

[aheathen-conceivably]

If Jo won't take him I will 👀

Oh! Wait a minute…I got Gio on the line. What’s that? ….oop, yeah. He said he’s not interested and will follow Jo to the ends of the Earth. Alright then, buddy. Your choice and your funeral 🫡🤣

[vehder]

Did the cm punk crossed arms pose to some guy that had a cm punk shirt on am I a loser

[dilf-c0nn0isseur]

can you write a smut where the reader rides logan's abs, i mean 😍

wishing this could be me right now🫡 enjoy!

riding his abs - logan howlett x fem!reader 18+

NSWF! MDNI!

Logan looked like he had been sculpted by God himself. I mean, those abs? Dude is cut.

You were currently lying in bed next time, admiring his perfect body. Your index finger traced lightly over the divots of his muscles. "God Logan, your body is unreal." No matter how long you'd been with him, his physique never fails to amaze you. Your compliment made the corners of his lips twitch up into a smirk.

"You like what you see Bub?," he teased with a flex of his muscles, putting his veins on full display. A puddle formed between your legs, the wetness seeping through the thin pair of underwear you had on. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. Cocky motherfucker.

"Holy shit Lo, you can't just tease me like that."

"Who said I was teasing?"

With one muscular arm, he lifted you easily up so that you were sitting on his abdomen. You gasped as he flexed with you on top of him, your soaking core pressed against his abs. He cocked an eyebrow up at you, smirk returning. "Is that really all it takes to get you going?," he snorted. "Dirty slut." With another swift movement, he ripped your panties off and flung them to the floor.

His confident, cocky attitude made you even hornier than you already were. Without even realizing, your hips bucked into his stomach against his rock hard abs.

"Pleasuring yourself on my muscles now?," he blew out a low whistle. You realized what you had been doing. An embarrassed blush crept up your face. "Sorry-"

"Don't apologize. I mean fuck, I could sit here all day and watch you get yourself off with my body."

His approval came as a surprise to you. "Really?"

His eyes grazed your body hungrily. "Yes, really, now get to work sugar," he ordered.

The thought of you pleasuring yourself on his abs with him sitting there and watching you brought another flood in-between your legs. Biting your lip, you began to grind on him slowly, pressing your hands against his chest for support. Fuck, even his chest was rock hard muscle.

Sure, he could just sit there and watch the show you were putting on, but come on, it was Logan. There was no way that man could keep his hands off of you. He grabbed your tits in both of his hands- his huge hands- and squeezed. "Fuck doll, you're so wet." His pet name for you made you buck your hips again, grinding your clit against his hard stomach. "Oh fuck Logan!"

The natural lubricant that seeped out of your cunt made it easy to slide back and forth on him. It was like when you were younger, an innocent, mindlessly humping a pillow, except now, it was a man beneath you, his muscles aiding you in your pleasure. Things really do come full circle, don't they?

The rough calluses of Logan's thumbs swirling around your sensitive nipples sent waves of pleasure through your body. You felt yourself climbing towards your peak.

"Getting close sweetheart?," his low, husky voice asked.

You nodded and responded with a high moan, unable to answer him with words.

"Good girl, finish yourself off on me. I want you to make a fucking mess of me."

The growl in his voice, the praise, brought you to your climax. Your hands moved to his hair and dug your fingers in, pulling at it as you lost control and came on him.

"Good girl, such a good, fucking girl," he talked you through your orgasm, somehow making you cum 10 times harder.

Once you came off of your high, you slid off of him, flopping down on the bed next time. You shivered. Then, you took in the mess you had made of his stomach. Your cum had pooled around his abs, glistening. "Oh, shit Logan, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't apologize," He cut you off, sliding a finger up his stomach to collect the mess you had just made, and stick it in his mouth to get a taste. He threw his head back and let out a throaty groan around his finger. "Y'Taste so good doll."

Logan lifted up your chin to bring his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself.

"You are the only person that could ever do that to me," you murmured.

He snorted and looked back at his toned abdomen, shining with your cum. "You did that to yourself, Bub."

[bi-writes]

Can't stop thinking about pregnant!reader constantly snapping at simon and being tired and him just being so understanding and everyone that sees them just don't get it? Because how is the Lieutenant that snaps at whoever being this soft🫡🫡

you've been bringing your own lunch to work because you hate the meals the mess hall makes. it makes your pregnant belly absolutely angry, and simon's held your hair up enough times to know that if he doesn't pack you something to eat before you go, it'll be hell on earth.

the rec room door slams open. everyone jumps, startled in their seats, and simon just stares, leaning against the wall by the open window as he puffs on a cigarette.

his eyes focus on you just as you angrily waddle your way over. he doesn't even flinch when you smack the cigarette out of his mouth, stomping on it with your boot as you glare up at him. all he does is smirk a little, reaching down and thumbing at your jaw.

"'ello, beautiful," he murmurs, his dark eyes roaming over your face. you let him touch for just a moment before you hit his hand off.

"don't try and butter me up," you snap, narrowing your eyes more. "you forgot...you forgot!"

he sighs, licking over his bottom lip.

"never seen anythin' prettier than ya," he whispers. he wants to shove down your pants and fuck your sopping cunt (he knows you're wet, you always are now), but instead he just lets out a soft breath and takes in how pretty you really are. just gorgeous--those big, pouty lips, all glossy and wet. those eyes--what drew him to you in the first place, that gaze that could stop a thousand bullets.

"you forgot my lunch, simon," you cry, and he cups your face, shaking his head. "i hate you. you're a sorry bastard! what's wrong with you?!"

he leans down and pecks your lips through the mask, and johnny, who's been slack-jawed and caught off-guard since you came into the room, turns to look at gaz--who's equally as confused.

"didn't forget, swee'eart," simon murmurs. "got y'some take-away. thought y'might fancy somethin' else."

your angry expression fades just a little, and you smooth both hands over your bump.

"you...you did?" you sniffle, and simon chuckles, nodding.

"y'r just tired, luv...aren't ya?"

you nod, closing your eyes. he soaks up your tears with the thumbs of his gloved hands.

"y'r feet oll swollen..." he kisses your jaw through the mask, and your eyes flutter a little. "c'mon, bubs. let's get ya off y'r feet, aye? get ya some food?"

you let him coax your face into his chest, and you settle there, taking a deep breath.

"you need to stop smoking," you whisper as you get a whiff of the scent on his clothes. "if i catch you again, i'll kill you."

"olright, luv," he agrees absentmindedly, turning you around to guide you out of the room. your food is in his room since he doesn't trust his sergeants not to pick at it if he left it in the shared fridge. "woteva ya say."

when you both close the door behind you, johnny blinks.

"i think i just saw a ghost, a real one..." he murmurs. "i must've just seen a ghost, gaz, have i gone mad? or did i just see our lieutenant with a lass? and did she just call 'im a bastard?"

"no," gaz turns back to their card game, dealing out another hand. "no, we didn't see anythin', soap."

"huh?"

"we didn't...see...anything."

[hxnbi]

⸻ ❀°。❝ SHORT STACK ❞

requested by @kuppuru: furin boys + togame with short reader

pairings. hajime umemiya, hayato suo, haruka sakura, ren kaji, kyotaro sugishita, jo togame x gn. reader (separate)

note: tysm for your request! sorry if it took so long to write, i was suffering with exams but im finally free now. this goes to all my fellow short ppl out there 🫡 i also just wanted an excuse to find these goofy photos of my boys lmao

𝄞 ─ HAJIME UMEMIYA ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

What do you mean by that? You’re his significant other and that's all that matters! If anything, that only makes you even more adorable!

UMEMIYA's natural inclination to be clingy and protective intensifies tenfold when he's around you. As you often find yourself enveloped in his arms, whether it's at home, out for a walk, or even at a crowded event. He towers over you, using his height—and admittedly effective intimidation tactics, thanks to him being the leader of Furin—to shield you from the world’s troubles. 

"Up we go!" he jokes, effortlessly picking you up from out of nowhere and spinning you around like a merry-go-round carousel.

“Ume?!” you yelp in surprise.

Without realizing it, his face lights up like a neon sign, and he lets out a loud, joyful laugh. You’re so sweet! How could he not adore you?

Umemiya goes into press his lips against your cheek and buries his face in your neck. "You’re my perfect little charm." His laughter and love are almost infectious. 

Umemiya’s protectiveness doesn’t just stop at physical proximity, but extends to every aspect of your life. He’s always looking out for you, making sure no one dares to mess with you (not that anyone with a half-functioning nervous system would, anyway). Your height didn’t matter and will never matter to him, not when he sees you as his perfect partner and his other half, just the way you are.

𝄞 ─ HAYATO SUO ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

Without a doubt in my mind, SUO's a person who's all for teasing you. In fact, he revels in it. Even after calling the relationship official, Suo’s playfulness doesn’t stop. Rather, it only increases with time. Suo is all for teasing you about your height, flaunting his own height difference with that characteristic closed-eye smirk of his.

“Oh dear, do you perhaps need help?” he teases, pointing at something on a high shelf with one hand while the other resting at his back. “Would you like me to get you a ladder?” he asks 'kindly,' making you deadpan.

Suo finds your petite stature irresistibly cute, and he never misses a chance to remind you of it. But, to the surprise of nobody, like everything else in his life, he’s not as shamelessly open about it in public as opposed to in private. Rather, I see Suo bringing your height up when you least expect it, in hopes of getting a reaction from you recorded in his mind.

Though his teasing is always good-natured, Suo knows your boundaries well. He can tell when you're uncomfortable, especially around others. That alone is enough to make Suo's usual mischievous brows furrow, and he stares down whoever dares to cross the line, especially when he's around. His protective instincts kick in without hesitation. That, despite his constant banter, it’s clear that he adores you deeply, his eyes filled with warmth and affection so unlike his public persona that he discloses to the world.

𝄞 ─ HARUKA SAKURA ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

Okay, and? What about it? Who the fuck cares? He’ll just deal with anyone if they even dare to give you shit about it. SAKURA's nonchalant attitude towards your height is evident. He couldn't care less what others think, and he's ready to put anyone in their place if they dare to give you any trouble about it.

"If anyone has a problem with your height, they’ll have to deal with me," he barked, a protective arm around your shoulders. "And trust me, they won't like it.”

Nirei and Suo could only deadpan in unison seeing this. ‘He’s just a big softie…’ they both thought.

Regardless, his feelings for you don’t change. Sakura has also been through a lot. The people who berated and made fun of him due to things he didn’t have control over—his unconventional appearance—why do they care? Why should someone ever care? He understands how it feels to be judged for superficial reasons and is fiercely protective of you because of it. As for you? You felt warm, knowing he always has your back. 

Your height has nothing to do with who you are as a person, and he’s learning that, step by step. He’s always ready to defend you, ensuring you never have to go through the pain and ridicule he did, and not just because of your height, something you never had a peace or sovereignty over. Perhaps, he sees a bit of himself in you.

𝄞 ─ REN KAJI ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

Doesn't treat you any differently. And why should he? Is there some kind of top-secret reason that he's unaware of? Why should such a thing as height matter in his relationship? Dude grills his vice-captain Kusumi to get the full story, until he realizes that there is none. Tch, do you think he cares about bullcrap like that? Well suck it up, you shouldn't and never have to worry about such an outrageous thing.

KAJI continues to be his calm and composed self (when he isn’t blasting music until his ears bled), offering you the same level of respect and affection as always. Because, after all, "Why would your height change anything about how I feel?" he scoffed, putting back his headphones and closing the conversation right there, making you crack a smile at how matter-of-fact he was. 

Kaji’s grounded nature makes you feel secure. Height, weight, appearance, all those superficial aspects of a person doesn’t matter to him. It never did, because you never judged him for how he was. All he's doing is returning the favour to the one he one he loves, nothing more.

…So why are you looking at him with those sparkling eyes like he just found a cure for cancer?

𝄞 ─ KYOTARO SUGISHITA ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

SUGISHITA is in the same boat as Kaji, and, in actuality, it’s even more pronounced, as, while Sugishita doesn’t say a word, he’s quietly observant. Your height is just another characteristic to him that he loves in you, nothing that affects his feelings or how he treats you.

He is but a silent trooper that stands at your side.  Admittedly, it gets funny at times, seeing the difference in height between you and Sugishita, apparently especially when walking side by side. But he doesn’t mind. To him, your height is just another thing that makes you uniquely you. And all with a stoic grunt and a subtle smile that he tries to hide, but the hearts in his eyes don’t disappear with such that. 

“They’re so cute, aren’t they? You just have to show it!!” Umemiya says. And show it, he does.

The way Sugishita pats your head and cheeks, similar to how Umemiya would to the same to him, is his way of expressing affection—all in the most awkward way possible, as Sakura would scoff while the trio of Suo, Nirei, and him would from a distance. 

“...The hell is he doing? Does he treat them like a puppy or something?"

“S-Sakura-san!! Y-You might want to—”

All Sugishita would see was red, and it wasn't just from Suo's hair. "YOU—"

But don’t let that fool you. The end was anything but pleasant, as yet another chair became a victim of Sugishita’s wrath, and was broken that exact day, much to the dismay of Umemiya. 

𝄞 ─ JO TOGAME ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

TOGAME's initial reaction to your height is one of surprise, with the way he would stare and drill holes into your skull, genuinely amazed at how someone could be so short and yet so oblivious, like you didn’t have a care in the world. But his curious stare quickly transforms into admiration. At first, you really thought that he was judging you, from the way his eyes would stare down at you for seemingly uncomfortable amounts of time, but to Togame, it was nothing more than fascination. You were so petite (to him), to the point of being even adorable… 

Togame ran his fingers through his locks of hair. Shit, if you ever knew.

His best friend Choji is a bit on the shorter side, sure, but you? You were like some kind of tiny sprite. Unbeknownst to you, he finds your petite stature almost endearing in a way. And unintentionally or not, takes it as an opportunity to be even more attentive and caring over you. Togame’s affection is shown through his actions, whether it's reaching for items you can’t, or holding your hand protectively in crowded places. Whether it’s out of a sense of curiosity or if he truly loves you, one thing is clear, he can't help but show his affection in every little gesture.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[hannieehaee]

something inspired by espresso by sabrina carpenter (excluding the arresting part ofc 🫡) like svt being obsessed with the reader?

18+ / mdi

content: simp!vernon, he's down bad tremendously it's actually a little pathetic, afab reader, very obvious references to espresso by sabrina, smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, etc.

wc: 1553

a/n: vernon was the first person to come to mind so i decided to do him hehe hope u enjoy<3

masterlist

vernon was aware of how pathetic he was acting.

it wasn't like everyone around him wasn't liberal in letting him know how borderline desperate his behavior seemed.

he knew through and through how much of a simp he was for you – and being honest, he did not mind it whatsoever.

chasing after you had now become an integral part of his life. catching sight of you at any mutual gathering was one of the things he looked forward the most as of late.

he'd notice the flirty looks you'd throw at him when you caught him staring. he'd groan to himself any time you'd add a suggestive wink just to mess with him. your effect on him awoke a part of himself that none of his exes ever had.

vernon thought of you every night, spending sleepless night after sleepless night with you in mind. sometimes he'd do unseemly things to himself as he remembered your seductive scent (which he had caught a whiff of once in passing and had become addicted to immediately). other times he'd simply imagine what it'd be like to simply get to hold your hand – as everyone else envied him for bagging the prettiest girl in town ...

after a few weeks of pining for you for afar, he finally grew the balls to respond to your provocations (the winks, the looks, the lip bites).

was he nervous? more than he'd ever been. how could he not be when you were staring at him even at this moment? when you were wearing the tiniest skirt known to man – also his favorite – as you made eyes at him? fuck, he felt lightheaded at the mere thought of you taking even the slightest interest in him.

and fuck, did vernon underestimate how much you liked him.

in no universe would vernon have ever imagined for you to grab him by the hand and wordlessly lead him to an empty room the moment he approached you.

much less would he have expected you to push him up against a wall and dig your hands in his hair, moaning into his mouth the moment your lips connected.

he wasn't an idiot, so of course he didn't question why the girl of his dreams was suddenly making out with him in such a thirsty and depraved manner. he simply decided to go along with it, letting you lick his tongue and pull at his hair.

his hands were shy at first, unsure as to what type of touching you'd be okay with. thank god that you took the reigns once more and placed his hands on your ass as a silent encouragement for him to touch you.

you made out for a good ten minutes, contorting yourselves against one another as you sought to leave the other breathless. that was when you decided to drag him away from the wall, walking him backwards into the bed and straddling his lap once he sat down.

"vernon," you mumbled into his lips, now pecking him sensually rather than full-on kissing him.

"hmm?", he was entirely distracted by the feeling of the plush skin of your perfect hips under his hands, hypnotized by the magnetic scent of your perfume.

"this is okay, right?," your lips disconnected, trailing down his neck and towards his ear, "saw you staring at me these past few weeks," you nibbled at his lobe.

"y-yes, of course. fuck, you don't have to ask. you can do whatever you want with me," he practically pleaded.

"oh? anything?", he could feel your smirk against his skin, shuddering at your clear excitement for his words.

"just want you so bad, you- i'm wrapped around your finger. i'll do anything you want," he hesitantly created a gap between your lips and his skin, looking up at you with wide and thoughtless eyes.

there was no response from you, simply a smirk and another connection of your lips as you licked into his mouth once more, this time with even more fervor. mindlessly, he followed your every move, kissing you and feeling you up with as much desperation as you did to him. vernon was willing to follow you anywhere if it meant he'd be on the receiving end of your touch.

lust filled his veins as you had your fun with him, dragging his shirt upwards and throwing it off, doing the same with your own. his hands fondled with your bare breasts, groaning against your lips at the feeling of your warm skin and your pert nipples. he ached to get his mouth on them, but he was too content kissing you to do anything about it.

"wanna ride you, nonnie," you whispered against his lips, getting up and pulling him onto his feet with you. wordlessly, you helped him pull off his pants as his lips trailed down to your neck and chest, breathing heavily against you.

pushing him back down to sit on the edge of the bed, he whimpered at being suddenly deprived of your skin against his lips, but quickly shut himself up when he saw you slip off your panties from underneath your skirt.

you didn't bother to remove your skirt as you sat back down on him, grabbing onto his cock and teasing your cunt with it. he groaned profanities at the feeling, digging his fingers into your hips as he attempted to hold back from fucking into you.

"p-put it in ... please," he pleaded with teary eyes. you had not teased him much, yet he was already desperate for you. putting how pathetic he sounded aside, he continued to beg for you, needing your cunt wrapped around him as much as he needed air.

you sighed at the feeling of his weeping tip against your clit, leading you to a level of desperation similar to that of vernon's (but, of course, not nearly as needy). finally, you lowered yourself onto him, gasping at the stretch and digging your fingers into his shoulder blades.

meanwhile, vernon was in what he could only describe as heaven. the sensation of your warmth embracing him so tightly had him breathless. the sight of your head thrown back as you bounced sensually on top of him made his eyes cross and his hands dig into your plush hips. he could make no noise other than pathetic whined of your name accompanied by endless chants of 'please, please, please' as he begged for you to continue and never stop.

"f-fuck, feel so fucking good ... p-please don't stop, shit. wanted you so bad ... been dreaming a-about – fuck – you every night. cunt's so good ... so pretty a-and soft and warm, fuck, it's so fucking warm," his rambles were never-ending, completely consumed by the feeling of the girl of his dreams finally giving him the time of day.

"tell me more, nonnie," you breathed as you leaned down to kiss him, giving him almost no space to respond, "tell me how – ah! – how much you like me," you encouraged despite being equally lost in pleasure.

"so much. you have no idea. you're so pretty, fuck. please ... please tell me this isn't a one-time thing. i-i'll take it, but, fuck, please," his words faded out as you began rocking your hips more and more aggressively, lips invading his own as he attempted to speak.

you smirked against his lips, ignoring his statement in favor of making him cum as fast as possible, as you were also approaching your high.

"you want me again, baby?" you enticed him with a languid kiss, "if you cum, i'll let you have me again. okay, nonnie? be good and cum with me."

he stared into your eyes, furrowing his eyebrows in what looked like a painful state as he nodded pathetically in affirmation. if you wanted him to cum with you, he'd do it tenfold. anything you wanted, he'd do as long as you even breathed in his direction. he was so horribly desperate for you. now and always.

"c-cumming, oh, fuck, it's so- shit, baby, i need- fuck," he stammered as your high took over, causing your cunt to tighten around him and making him lose his mind as a result.

the harshness with which he dug his nails into your hips couldve easily drawn blood. however, the pathetic cries of pleasure coming from the boy under you had you more distracted. even as your high invaded your senses, your mind was still fully focused on vernon and the desperate mess he'd become.

you played it up for him, moaning and sighing his name in ways you knew he'd remember every lonely night his hand made its way beneath his pants. there was nothing that fed you more than his sheer want for you, so you did everything in your power to amp it up, making your orgasm all the more intense.

he filled you up immensely, leaving you leaking by the end of it all. you panted against him as he held you tightly in his arms, enjoying the calm feeling of your chests pressed together, heavy breaths eventually synchronizing.

"does- does this mean i can get your number?", he mumbled when he recovered his breath.

you giggled, knowing that he'd call you endlessly if you gave him your number. yet the thought excited you far too much to deny him.

[lovebugism]

hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡

ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)

Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them. 

He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.

You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.

There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.

“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod. 

His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”

He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.

“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”

He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.

“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”

You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin. 

You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”

Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”

You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical. 

His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod. 

“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”

—————

He’s a menace.

Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.

He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life. 

Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.

“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”

If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.

His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.

“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”

He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.

“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more. 

“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.

Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”

You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.

Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”

[papaya-twinks]

wet race - l.n

Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, SEX

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - this video made me go feral sooooooo….smut 😫 also pretend the interviewer is a woman coz that’s y/n 🫡🫡🫡

“Lando,” you smiled at the driver in front of you, “your car really came alive in the wet today and…” you were cut off as the Brit leaned forward, the ghost of a smirk across his perfect features. “Car? Or driver?” you cheeks reddened at the words - maybe you were making it seem dirty, and besides, what did he mean? 

His eyes were firmly on yours as you sat back down in the seat, Lando’s gaze never leaving yours. “Jesus, Y/N,” your boss said, walking to you after the race, “what’s with the hiccup?”. You knew he was referring to the question that had you all flustered and you blushed again, looking down. “Sorry, sir,” you mumbled as he clicked his tongue.

You watched as he moved away, leaving you in the now empty media room as you collected your belongings from your chair. “So,” a voice said, making you jump and turn round, eyes meeting Lando’s, “got in trouble for that little moment, hm?” a smirk flicked across the driver’s face as you groaned. You had an interesting relationship with Lando. 

Most drivers liked you, actually, especially Lando, he’d usually be all smiley during interviews with you, when he knew you’d be there. But the past few weeks, you couldn’t help but notice the places his eyes darted during your questions, or the excessive chewing of his lips when he was around you - and it was driving you feral. “What were you thinking, hm?” he walked out you, his hands buried in his pockets. 

“Something dirty?” his words immediately sent a jolt through your body, your cheeks reddening as he smirked. “That’s what I thought,” he hummed, his chest pressed to your back as you inhaled sharply. “Did my driving make you wet, love?” Lando’s lips ghosted over your ear as you chewed on your lip. You gasped softly as his hand came to your skirt, his fingers brushing your panties, feeling the wetness between your legs. 

“It did,” he commented, moving his hand back. You nearly whined at the loss of contact, a smirk spreading across Lando’s features. “Needy,” he hummed, taking your hand and leading you to the usual sofa where the press conference took place. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as he sat you in the exact spot he’d been sitting. 

“Handle you just like I handled the car,” he mused, moving to push your legs apart, your cheeks red as he lifted your skirt. Your teeth sank into your lip as he licked a long stripe between your legs, your core throbbing with need. He hummed as you wriggled against him, his nose brushing your bundle of nerves as a moan left your lips. 

Lando hissed at the feeling, moving his large hand to your stomach, pushing you down as he tugged at your panties with his teeth. Your eyes widened as he immediately flicked his tongue at your core, purposefully rubbing his nose across your clit as you moaned. Lando dipped his long, thick middle finger into your wetness, pushing in deep as he moved your legs over his shoulders. 

Your eyes rolled slightly as he added another finger, pumping slowly as his tongue worked at your pussy, he moved his other hand to unbuckled his belt, pulling his trousers down, his other hand and his tongue buried between your legs hungrily, Lando’s throbbing length in his hand as he stroked himself. Your eyes were focused on his member, the long vein along the bottom, the thick head. 

“Want this, don’t you?” he mused, eyes on you as you nodded, desperate to feel him in you. Lando was more than happy to oblige, bringing his length to align with your entrance  before pushing in, your legs thrown over his shoulders, a small bump forming in your stomach.

Your moan was loud as he started rocking in and out of you, your eyes rolling slightly from the pleasure. “Lando,” you moaned as he grunted, his pace picking up by the second. He carried on, his fingers digging into your thighs as he sped up, the knot building up in your stomach. 

Lando could feel your high approaching as he stared keen at you, your body rocking with each movement. “Wanted to do this so long,” he groaned, his cheeks red with pleasure, “wanted to bend you over the damn media pen fence,”. His words spurred you on, your whimpers and moans fuelling his desire. 

Your orgasms hit simultaneously as he pulled out, his cum spilling onto your stomach, eyes wide. Lando pulled out slowly, pulling whimpers and whines from you as he did so, holding your hand through the way. “Gonna take so much self control to not just fuck you every conference,” he muttered, wiping his cum off of your stomach ad you nodded 

[ellecdc]

i come barring a request for a poly!marauders🫡📃

idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend we’re having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and she’s roommates with lily so she’s used to but then the boys see they’re all thrown off and slightly worried.

now i bid you good day my lady 🫡

I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for

poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat

Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.

“Sorry to disappoint boys.” She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.

“Oh, we’re always happy to see you, Lily.” James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled “you should be”, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.

“Hey!” Lily called down the hall. “The boys are here!”

Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. “Okay thanks! I’m almost ready!”

The boys were very excited, if James’ knee bouncing and Sirius’ impish smirk wasn’t obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought you’d get along really well with the group of friends, and she’d been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if you’d be at the next one.

Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.

The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.

“Where are you guys going tonight?” Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.

“We’re going to the pub on 42nd.” James answered readily. 

“The one with the board games and vintage video games?” Lily clarified. 

“Yup. That way there’s something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.” Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Sirius’ smaller frame.

“Don’t tease the lad.” Lily admonished playfully. “He’s already likely nervous enough. I don’t think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.”

Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lily’s comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.

“Would you stop that?” He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.

“Please don’t do this, I’m already late.” You begged before a big crash took place. “For fuck’s sa- why.” 

“You’re not allowed to get ready with me anymore.” You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You carried on. “If you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.”

It was quiet for a few moments. “No, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.”

They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. “I love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while I’m gone? Hm? Let’s go ask.”

Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement. 

And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.

You chuckled awkwardly. “How much did you hear?”

Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-head’s lap. 

“Enough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.” Sirius teased salaciously. 

You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.

“Don’t hide that beautiful face from us; it’d be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.” He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. “A bad cat, at that.” You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice. 

“Oi!” Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. “Don’t speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.”

“Princess Bernadette?” Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured “the Third?”

“Birdie, Lily. My cat’s name is Birdie.” You corrected, not at all amused. 

Lily raised her nose in the air. “When we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, she’s Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ball’s to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.” 

Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we, m’lady?”

You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted James’ elbow as you made your way to the door.

“Have fun you guys!” Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.

“You too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.” He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.

[illyrianbitch]

An Education in Malice

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, rough, angry, hate sex basically. sexual degradation (name calling), p in v penetration, sex in da woods, bickering and insults, inner circle slander

Word Count: 6.6k

a/n: i know technically we wouldnt be a princess... but we r a high lord family so were running with it for the sexual tension. also dedicated to my soulmate and the brilliant babe, @itsswritten who told me to write sumthin smutty like this. thank her 🫡

Series Masterlist | Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched at the sound. 

He’d almost forgotten how grating your voice was to his ears, how it made his body tense with an emotion he could never quite describe. He turned around slowly, taking you in where you stood leaning casually against a tree. 

The dress you wore was reminiscent of autumn court elegance, fabric cascading around you in rich hues of crimson, gold, and amber, like the vibrant foliage of the season brought to life, sleeves like flickering flames. There was a sense of wrongness in seeing such an elegant form amidst the wild, your commanding presence even more striking than that of your other family members. If he didn't know who you were, he would have been tempted to describe you as something of unparalleled beauty, a vision amidst a forest of wilderness.

But Azriel knew who you were. He knew what you were. 

He had noticed the similarities between you and your brothers quickly, from your mannerisms down to the curve of your lips. You and Eris shared the same snarky smirk– a smirk Az wanted to wipe clean off your faces. You were using it now, holding his gaze with the corners of your lips upturned and amused eyes. 

“You look thrilled to see me,” you said. 

Az did nothing to hide his disdain as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Where is your brother?” 

“Busy,” you responded, absentmindedly running the tips of your fingers along the tree you leaned on. You took a moment to observe the bark before you turned to face Azriel again, a small taunting smile on your lips once more. “I’ll let him know you missed him.”

Azriel held your gaze for a moment, a tick in his jaw as he let out a short exhale. Then, he was turning around to leave, a clear dismissal. A small flicker of anger rose in your body. Quickly, you winnowed in front of him, your sudden appearance setting his shadows into a frenzied dance around him, coalescing into a swirling mass around his neck like a collar of live snakes ready to strike. 

“Don’t be rude,” you said, “I’m here on Eris’ behalf. Give me information to report back to him.”

“Nothing to report,” Azriel said, voice flat. He stared at you for a moment, eyes scanning you. And then he was making another notion to leave, brushing past you with a small shove to your shoulder. You nearly laughed at the action, at how easy he was becoming to rile up— at how much your presence bothered him. 

“You don’t want to stay and chat?” You said over your shoulder. A flutter of triumph spread in your chest when you heard his footsteps come to a halt. You turned to face him, his back still to you, shadows swirling around his body like black flames. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

Azriel turned to face you, a small scowl on his beautiful features. “Not long enough.”

You laughed, the sound stroking his body in a way that sent shivers down his spine. You let out a sigh.

“I get bored in Autumn sometimes, you know?”

Briefly, something flickered in Azriel’s hazel eyes, but it faded faster than you could decipher what it meant or where it came from. He titled his head slightly, eyes taking you in fully.

“Not enough cruelty for you?”

“Something like that.”

You both held each other's stares, his icy gaze against your fiery one. He lifted his chin slightly, rolling his shoulders as if to straighten his already stiff posture. You didn’t miss the way his wings extended slightly from their tucked in position, just enough to stand as a warning, as a reminder of who he was— what he was. 

“This is a waste of my time.”

Yet, Azriel made no move to leave— not this time. 

“Because you have such important matters to return to?” You asked with a raised brow, “You said it yourself, nothing to report. So, are there some damsels in distress to be saved? Something to make you feel important?”

You made sure to pay extra attention to when you mocked his previous words, tone dropping slightly deeper to imitate his. Azriel’s eyes narrowed even more, a dark wave of evident anger washing through his face, nostrils flared, jaw clenched. You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin. 

You were playing with something dangerous, this you knew. But Azriel was so fun to rile up, so easy to. You understood, now, why your brother seemed to enjoy these meetings so much. You’d assumed Eris was some sort of masochist, somehow finding pleasure in the necessity of being allies with the Night Court, the same people who so commonly disregarded you and your family as evil and cruel— although, they were right to a certain extent. But perhaps Eris had found some sort of entertainment with this affair. 

“Stop talking,” was Azriel’s only reply. 

“Why?”

He took a step forward. You made sure to stay still, to hold his gaze as he peered down at you. 

“Because you’re trying to get a rise out of me,” Azriel responded, his voice cool, “and it will not work.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed. “Play the unphased act all you’d like, we both know its bullshit.”

He said nothing in response, his eyes remaining locked on yours. Azriel’s stare was harder now, colder. A clear warning was written in his features, carved out between his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes: do not fuck with me. 

But you welcomed the challenge. If he wasn’t going to admit it, you were more than willing to prove your point. 

“You put my brother in a chokehold in a public meeting. You have no self-control. You’re just constantly one spark away from igniting.”

Azriel growled. “Your brother deserved it.”

You raised your brow in a small taunt. 

“Because he called your precious Morrigan a slut?”

Whether Azriel wanted to admit it or not, you were very easily tearing at his resolve. He moved quickly, his hand naturally falling to the dagger at his hip. Shadows moved closer to you, but with a swift movement of your fingers, they were met with the spark of a small flame, quickly retracting back into their mass form near Azriel’s shoulders. You winnowed back to your original place, back against the rough tree bark. 

“Careful, Shadowsinger,” you sneered, “You’re forgetting your manners.You didn’t even let me finish.”

Azriel wore a clear scowl now, brows furrowed as he held your gaze from afar, hand still on his weapon. There was something deadly about the way you made him feel, the intensity of those feelings far surpassing any hatred he held for your brothers– Eris, specifically. In truth, the more time Az spent near Lucien, the more he saw him as someone good– and the less similarities he seemed to bear with you, his conniving snake of a sister. You opened your mouth to taunt him once more.

“I don’t agree with my brother,” you said, “Hell, I admire Morrigan for her freedom. I do love a pretty dress. So, I would have called her something else… a liar, perhaps?”

Those words were all it took to light Azriel’s fuse.

Within a blink, he was in front of you, the cold steel of a dagger, Truth-Teller you presumed, pressed against your neck. His wings flared out angrily behind him. Shadows surged around you, a suffocating darkness descending like a shroud, swallowing the sunlight and leaving only a void of darkness. You stared into Azriel's eyes— cold, and angry.

"Shut up," he snarled.

For a moment, a sense of fear flickered deep in your stomach, but you swallowed it down, the flame diminishing before it could properly ignite. Even as his shadows threatened to consume you both whole, you refused to back down, meeting Azriel's gaze with a defiant stare of your own. And then, you grinned. A cruel, wicked gesture that made his blood boil.

“Nice to see you perform without an audience, too.”

Azriel's voice was laden with disdain as he responded, words dripping with venom. "You and your brother are exactly the same."

But instead of flinching at the accusation, you maintained your smirk, unfazed by the blade pressed against your neck. "Which brother? I have quite a few," you countered, your tone teasing, almost playful.

Azriel's grip tightened, images of your family conjuring in his mind. Az could barely remember the names of your other brothers, their features blurring into a blurry mess of fiery auburn and copper. Instead, his mind focused on you– the female before him, under his grip and his dagger, standing next to the two males he despised for different reasons. 

“You can decide,” Azriel finally said, “they’re all equally terrible.”

“I’d say Lucien is a good male,” you laughed bitterly, “I’m willing to bet your sweet Elain would agree.”

A surge of fury rose within him, a deep primal instinct to lash out and silence your taunts once and for all. But even as he bristled with anger, he realized you were right.

He was constantly teetering on the edge, one step away from losing control. It had gotten worse recently, watching everyone around him find their place, their people; Elain growing closer to Lucien, his brothers spending time with their mates. Azriel was frustrated. He was angry. You’d done exactly what he told you wouldn’t happen– gotten a rise out of him. He hated it, hated you, hated himself even more.

Azriel took a deep breath, your heated gaze still on him, eyes narrowed, a small smirk on your lips that he filled him with a burning anger. It wasn’t as if he could kill you, no, he couldn’t even really hurt you. One mark on the Vanserra’s youngest and only daughter would be a mark for war. This was a battle Az couldn't win, indulging your provocations for the mere sake of your entertainment. He needed to calm down. Regain control. 

The shadows around you began to recede and sunlight filtered back into the clearing as Azriel  pushed you away with a snarl. You leaned your head back against the tree as you took a deep breath.

He studied you for a moment before saying,  "You'd think someone as pretentious as you wouldn't need to rely on irritating someone for an ounce of attention." 

There was a subtle shift in your demeanor—a swallowed response, a flicker of vulnerability. His gaze followed the movement down to the column of your throat.

“Pretentious?” 

You gave a bitter laugh.

"Yes, pretentious. All of you Vanserras," Azriel retorted with a bitter edge, “Every single one.”

"That's ironic coming from you. You think we're pretentious?"

Azriel's gaze hardened. "Yes. Cruel, evil, and vile. You think you're better than all of us."

Your mouth widened as you scoffed. And then you let out a laugh of disbelief. 

"Oh my Gods, does it ever get tiring?" you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wallowing in your own self-pity and then using it as a means to hate everyone outside of your incestuous little circle?"

"Do not speak of my family," Azriel snapped.

You smirked. “So you admit your family is incestuous?”

Azriel said nothing, a sudden realization that his anger, once again, had beat him to his rationality, somehow giving you another weapon to use against him.  He clenched his jaw, feeling a simmering heat building in his stomach. 

"You stand in front of me and pretend to be shocked when I call you for what you are?" he countered with a sneer, “Your family isn't quiet about their disdain for my family, for my kind, or for me."

You lifted your chin. “You don’t even like your own kind, Shadowsinger.” 

There was another flare of his nostrils and you knew that you’d gotten him once again. Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, a sight lost to you as his shadows covered them. You continued as he stayed silent.

“I will admit, my family can be a bit narrow minded. Why would I hate you for the things you can’t control? Where's the fun in that?”   

Again, Azriel remained silent. He knew if he made a move, if he said a word, it would likely be something he regretted, something that would come back to bite him in the ass. 

"I don’t hate you because you’re from the Night Court, or an Illyrian, or a bastard, or whatever it is you tell yourself at night," you continued, your words like a dagger aimed at his pride. "I hate you because you are hot-headed and arrogant. You’ve held a grudge against Eris for something that wasn’t his fault and have utterly screwed Lucien to no end. Your little family is a disease.”

Azriel’s resolve was cracking. He didn’t have enough self-control for this, for you. He’d barely mustered up the diplomacy needed to meet with Eris. 

“Stop talking,” he said through gritted teeth. He felt it again, the flicker of frustration that threatened to engulf him like an unattended flame.

You gave him a withering glare. “Or what, you’ll make me?”

Azriel blinked, his eyes scanning your body instinctively. There was something about the words you spoke, the way you had spoken them, that made his body shiver. A small jolt of electricity passed through his muscles. Unfortunately for him, you caught it as quick as it manifested. Your eyes widened as you let out a dry laugh, forming a small smirk on your lips.

“Oh my gods,” you said, taking a step closer, “I bet you’d like that, wouldn't you? Is that why you’re such an ass today? 

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him. You gave him a mocking pout as you stared up at him. 

“No one to torture, no sweet female to make love to? Poor, powerful, Spymaster.”

Azriel thought for a moment. He thought about the anger boiling in his body, how on edge he’d been, how every little thing had been setting him off. He thought about you, in front of him, a female he despised from previous meetings– loud-mouthed, vicious, and selfish. A female from a family he hated, a family that took things from his family, from him. 

And then he began thinking of how great it would feel to show them how wrong they were about him. To prove to them that they weren’t better than him, that he was just as, if not more, powerful than their damned bloodline.

You had been right again. He was pent up. He hadn’t taken a lover recently, hadn’t fucked anyone since that one almost-night with Elain– where she’d been sweet, sensitive, and gentle. But even before, with the females who’d asked for it rough, told him they could handle it, he hadn’t indulged himself too far. He still respected them. They were still wide-eyed and kind, sweet to a certain extent. He didn’t want to hurt them. They were ladies. Azriel respected ladies. 

“I said stop talking,” Azriel growled. 

There was a tick in his jaw. 

“And I said, make me.”

But you, you weren’t a lady. You weren’t sensitive, sweet, or kind. You were a viper. A snake with beautiful lips and a body he found incredibly inviting— not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. But standing in front of him, that defiant look in your eyes, the pride seeping off you, the smirk on your lips… Azriel felt hungry. He felt ravenous. 

So, he thought for one more moment. And then he was taking a step forward, one that you matched with an equal stepback. 

“Y/n,” Azriel drawled as he continued to take another step. You matched him again, moving back while you glared at him. “Are you not getting enough attention? Is that it?”

Your back hit the tree and you let out a small exhale as Azriel took a final step forward, inches away from you as he stared down with a dark gaze. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You bit out. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You attempted to regulate your breathing as his eyes drank you in, a clear and unashamed desire painted over his face. 

“Do I look like a fucking mind-reader?”

 Azriel gave a dry chuckle. You were unraveling before him, scrambling for control. “Such a vile mouth for a princess.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that why you came?” He brought a hand to your chin, roughly tilting your face up to look directly at him. “Do you want to be fucked, Y/n?”

The answer was yes, you did. There was a sickening sense of excitement that ran through your blood, a heat pooling between your thighs. But you wouldn’t admit it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction, weren’t about to prove him right. So instead you stayed quiet, pulling your face out of his hands and turning your cheek. 

“I came for intel,” you said through gritted teeth, “in Eris’ place.”

Azriel gave another chuckle, something dark and humorous. His hand trailed to the side of your neck, pushing the hair off your shoulders to expose the line of your collarbone. You swallowed.

“Interesting,” he said. He leaned in, lips against your ear. “Then what is that desire I smell?”

You let out a sharp exhale as he leaned away. Taking a deep breath, you looked at him, biting the inside of your cheek at your body's betrayal. You needed to balance this.

“Maybe its you that needs a good fuck, Shadowsinger. Like I said, you seem real pent up. Noone quite scratching that itch?”

But Azriel no longer seemed angry at your words, instead, he seemed amused– hungry. He was quiet for a second too long, simply staring at you. A sense of irritation prickled at your skin.

“What?” You snapped.

“I can admit that,” Azriel said coolly, “if you can admit something to me.”

“What, are we trading secrets now? I wasn’t aware this was a children's sleepover.”

Azriel didn’t respond. You registered the movement of a dark shadow as it fled from his body, slowly sneaking around your collarbone. You attempted to hit it away, but it quickly slithered back to Azriel, running up his chest to curl around his ear. He smirked. 

“When was the last time someone fucked you, Y/n?”

The air left your lungs as you let out a small gasp. You blinked. Quickly, you regained your composure.

“Excuse me?”

Azriel kept his smirk. “It must be hard getting anyone to touch you when you’re so sheltered by those males you call brothers.” 

He reached out a hand to your bare collarbone, but you caught his wrist in your hand, allowing it to hover in your grip. His eyes slowly trailed up to your face, heavy-lidded and darkened with a sense of attention that made your stomach clench. 

“What the hell are you getting at?” You sneered.

Azriel simply stared at you, the ghost of a smirk still plastered on his lips. His reactions had you gritting your teeth in anger and rubbing your thighs in anticipation at the same time— you hated it.

“Don’t ask questions you know the answers to.”

“You're pathetic,” you spat, “Save your games for a bitch who cares.”

But you still gripped his hand in yours, still felt the heat radiating off his skin. And you made no motion to move. No motion to let him pull back. Azriel didn’t fail to notice this, either. 

“That snarky mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. But I bet that's why you use it, right?”

Your breathing was heavier now. Azriel’s gaze flickered to where you still gripped his wrist.

“You can fool everyone, Y/n,” he said, “But not me.”

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the way his voice sounded on your skin, shouldn’t have felt a breathlessness filling your body as he spoke to you. But you felt it. And it was a burning, hungry desire that made your chest tighten. This was what you wanted, it was what you needed. 

Azriel was right. The bastard had read you like a book. Your family, your brothers, never let anyone near you for fear of embarrassment– fear of you bringing some sense of shame. But Azriel was right. You wanted it. You craved it. You wanted to forget who you were, to give up the control you always had to wield. 

Before you could overthink it, you loosened your grip on Azriel’s hand and pulled it towards you, situating it on the side of your throat. You let out a small gasp when he quickly wrapped his fingers around the base of your neck. 

And then he was pulling you into him with a deep and angry kiss. All teeth, tongue, and fire, mouths crashing together almost painfully, but neither of you stopped. With every movement of his mouth, of his tongue on yours, a dormant flame deep within you awoke. 

A primal desire surged through Azriel’s veins like wildfire, the scent of you– of your want, of your desire– filling his senses in a way that had his cock throbbing. There was no room for rational thought, only the raw, unbridled passion that engulfed him in a fiery embrace. His hand found its way into your hair, fingers brushing along your scalp as he yanked your hair to expose your neck to him. His lips wandered to your exposed collarbone, giving a harsh suck to the skin near the column of your throat. 

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Shut up,” you responded, reaching your hands out to fumble with his leather clothes. Azriel pulled back slightly, grabbing your wandering hands in his. You let out a sound of protest as he ran sloppy kissing along your neck.

“Oh how i’d love to fuck that foul mouth of yours,” Azriel murmured against your skin, his mouth reaching your ear. “But we’re short on time.” He took your lobe in between his teeth and you let out a small groan.

“I bet all you’ll need is a few minutes– and that's being generous.”

Azriel’s hand gripped at your waist, traveling up your chest to roughly grab your breast through your dress. 

“No wonder you’re so insufferable.” he said, his voice amused as he pulled back, his other hand tugged at your hair once more. “You haven’t been fucked properly.”

You snarled. "Fuck you." 

Azriel grinned.

"Oh, princess, I will.”

And then he was pulling the front of your dress down, exposing your bare breasts before him, nipples peaked in the fresh air. You let out a gasp as a small faint ripping sound traveled to your ears. Before you had a chance to react, Azriel was spinning you around, pulling your back against his chest, one hand bracketing your throat as the other traveled down your stomach, grabbing at the fabric at your dress. 

"But first, you're going to beg me for it,” he breathed into your ear, his voice so low you felt it more than you heard it. His words traveled straight to your core, leaving you dripping with want. Yet, you refused to let the words leave your lips. You gritted your teeth, bristled at the suggestion— pride and defiance warring within you. 

“Like hell I will.”

Azriel made a sound of disapproval, his mouth still running along your ear, “No?” he asked, hand slowly trailing from your throat to your chest, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. “So you don’t want me to touch you?”

His hand fell over your breast, cupping it in his palm as his thumb brushed over your nipple. You watched as black tendrils of shadow danced around his forearm, meeting where his fingers tweaked your nipple. Their cool gentle touch sent a ripple of sensation through you and your head fell back against him as you let out a small whimper. 

“Stop being a fucking tease.” 

Azriel found that he loved the way you whimpered, loved the tinge of frustration in your voice as he touched you. Here you were, melting into his touch, attempting to avoid admitting in words what your body was showing in actions.

“I asked you to do something.” 

He rolled your nipple between his fingers. You let out a deep exhale, pushing yourself back onto him, grinding into the evident bulge that pressed against you, the thin material of your dress doing nothing to disguise his hardened length. 

“Just fuck me already,” you turned your head to catch his gaze, darkened and pupils blown with lust. “I know you want to.”

You covered his hand in yours, molding his hand into your touch, urging him to grab your breast again– harder, firmer. 

The corners of his lips quirked up. “That doesn’t matter. Beg for it.”

Agonizingly slow, his hands roamed your trembling form, lighting flames of desire that you almost feared would consume you whole. Second by second, you felt yourself losing control. The heat of his touch seared through you, eroding the last crumbs of your resistance until all that remained was a burning need to be filled by him, to succumb to the primal urges coursing through your veins. You wanted him. You needed him. 

“Please,” you whispered, the truth spilling from your lips in a voice so meek you barely recognized it as your own. 

"Please what?"

With a trembling breath, you finally let go of the last shreds of your resistance, your voice coming out in a deep, frustrated plea.  “Please fuck me.”

Azriel's lips curved into a predatory smirk. 

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and sultry as he pulled away from you. In one movement he was pulling your ass closer to him, forcing your body forward to brace yourself on the tree. In seconds you felt the cool air on your body as Azriel pushed your dress above your hips. Naturally, you felt your body bowing at the sensation. He let out a groan at the sight. 

Then he was spreading your legs, baring you before him, glistening cunt on full display. His rough hands gripped your bare ass. He massaged it for a moment, but the motion was brief, and soon you felt a hard hand land on the fat of your cheek. You let out a small shriek, but it was followed by a low moan as he delivered another smack. Azriel smirked at the sound of it, at the sight of your ass reddening with his handprint. 

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You managed to grit out as you pushed your ass out further,  “I’m growing bored.”

“Bored?” He ran finger through the wetness that pooled at your core. “Your cunt doesn’t seem to think so.”

You moaned at the feeling, pushing yourself back against his hand.

“Too stubborn to admit anything,” Azriel murmured, “But your body gives you away.” 

Azriel took a step back, your body cold at the loss of contact as he freed himself from the confine of his leather pants, each movement filled with a primal urgency that would’ve made him unsettled— embarrassed even— if he had been in a more rational state of mind. But Azriel wasn’t being rational. All he could think about was you, and staring at your beautiful glistening cunt, all he wanted was to fuck you into oblivion, to let his frustrations out. To tame you like a wild animal— his most tantalizing challenge yet. 

He settled himself behind you and stroked his cock along your folds, allowing it to glide against your core until both of you were slick with your desire. He teased you slowly as he moved up and down your entrance. You pushed against him, urging him inside, inviting him to take you. 

Azriel only laughed darkly at the movements, and you whined in response, frustrated and irritated. 

“Remember this the next time you insult me,” he said, “Remember how you were begging for me to fuck you.” 

Half a breath later, he pushed himself inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. You exhaled in tandem, your cunt clenching him, pulsing around the stretch of him.  He adjusted his angle and picked up the pace, sending pleasure rising in a wave that you couldn’t hold back, your mouth falling open as he began to take you harder. 

You let your forehead fall against your hands, braced against the rough texture of the tree. You faintly felt the ridges under your palm, but there was no pain, no irritation that you knew you were bound to experience later. All you could truly feel was Azriel deep inside you, stretching you out and using you in a way you hadn’t experienced for a very long time. The lust Azriel felt, the experience of being with you, of claiming you as his, was no longer a desire, no longer a want. It was a need. An animalistic and primal need that he felt deep in his chest. 

Azriel's movements were relentless, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure rippling through your body, clouding your mind in a haze of ecstasy and melting away all coherent thought. There were sounds emitted from your lips, this you knew, but they were incoherent whimpers, quiet murmurs whispered towards the ground as your forehead dug into your hands with every buck of Azriel’s hips.

“You had so much to say earlier, Y/n,”  Azriel said, pulling out until he was barely inside you. He thrusted back in, resuming a hard and brutal pace. 

“Why so quiet now?”

Thrust.

“Did you just need the attitude fucked out of you?”

Thrust.

"What will your brothers think?” he taunted, his grip on your hips bruising in its intensity, “Your father?”

Thrust.

“If only your family only knew what their precious princess was up to. Taking it from the likes of me, like some common pleasure hall whore."

The mention of your family sent a surge of burning shame coursing through your veins, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, flushing against your exposed skin. But amidst the suffocating shame, there was something else, something primal and insatiable that stirred within you—a hunger born of defiance, of indulging in a forbidden ecstasy. It filled you with a sense of exhilaration that bordered on madness.

Quickly, that spark of defiance ignited within you, mingling with the fiery hunger coursing through your veins, an urge to bite back at him. You craned your head to look over your shoulder, catching his eyes as you let out a moan, taking your lips in between your teeth. 

"Do common whores get you this riled up?" you purred. There was a feigned innocence in your tone that made Azriel twitch inside you. His gaze burned into yours. "Do they make you this hungry?”

A part of you wanted the confirmation, wanted the triumphant feeling of knowing you could ruin him for everyone else— that you felt better than the females he had bedded, that you, the one he loathed so openly, were the only one to truly quench his thirst.

“Do they feel as good as me, Azriel?”

He let out a deep, guttural moan. The sound traveled through your body, lighting your skin on fire as you bucked back into his movements, meeting every roll of his hips. 

“Say that again,” Azriel groaned.

When you gave no reply, he twisted your hair around one fist and gave it a tug, pulling your body up to him as before. His thrusts never staggered, not even as his hand traveled to wrap around your throat, matching the reddening print from his earlier grip. The other hand remained steady at your hip, gripping into the fabric of your dress and the exposed skin of your body. 

“Say my name,” he growled and your cunt tightened at the sound, at the way he gripped your throat harder. You grasped at his arm with your hands, holding on to his skin as he bucked into you. 

“No.” 

Azriel growled, pulling out of you almost completely before he pushed back in a heavy, angry stroke. Your body arched in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your mouth instinctively.

“Don’t be a brat.”

“Fuck you.” 

“I am,” Azriel said, “And your cunt is swallowing me whole, princess. Like it's made for me, like its been begging to be fucked.”

He released his grip from your throat, letting you fall forward as he placed his hand on the small of your back, arching your body for him as he pounded into you from behind. You fell forward, hands planted on the tree before you, fingers clawing at the bark like an animal in heat. Azriel watched as his cock disappeared into your cunt with every thrust, watched how your ass bounced back on him with every movement, how your tits moved with every roll of his hips. He fought not to finish from the sight alone. 

You struggled to find your voice through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind, that seemed to twist and tie your tongue to where you could only gasp incoherent words of ecstasy

“Oh, fuck. Azriel.”

Azriel drank in your sounds of pleasure like a male thirsted for centuries, the sound of his name on your tongue sending a wave of pleasure through his body.

“Are you going to cum, Y/n?”

You let yourself surrender to his touch as he continued to ravage you with ruthless abandon, his voice caressing you in ways you never knew a sound could do. You wanted him to go faster, harder, rougher; wanted him to fuck you with all his might, with all that anger you saw. As if he could read your mind, Azriel’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you.

“Fuuck, yeah, you are. I can feel this pretty little cunt clenching me.”

He continued his pace, fucking you with long thorough strokes that left you completely pinned between him and the rough bark of the tree. You felt him heavy against your back, breasts pressed against his hand as he moved between gripping them both roughly, holding onto them for leverage as he fucked you from behind.

"Look at you," he taunted, his grip tightening around you possessively. "So desperate, so needy. You're nothing but a pretty little slut, begging for release, aren’t you?"

Azriel continued, moving deeper and faster, pumping into you with snaps of his hips that had you writhing underneath him. 

"And yet," you managed between breaths, gasps leaving your lips as he drove into you. "You’re the one pounding into me like a brute who can't get enough.” 

With a low groan, Azriel's hand tightened around your breast, his grip possessive as he leaned in to bite at your shoulder with a hungry intensity. He was beginning to think that you’d surely be the death of him, that he had created something, some beast inside him, that refused to be satiated by anything other than you— and that was dangerous. But he didn’t think too much about it, not now, not as he felt your cunt massaging him from the inside, felt your walls clamping onto him in a way that set his body on fire, his cock throbbing. 

Azriel railed you over and over, nothing slow or gentle about his movements. And with every thrust, you whined in ecstasy. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he kept pounding into you. He fell forward, grinding against you, pushing you further into the rough bark of the tree.

You could feel it, a deep pressure building in your stomach as his cock stretched you in the most delicious way. And you could feel him too, hot against your back, his deep breaths and the groans that reverberated through his body. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your ears, muffling out the sound of your moans as your whole body tensed.

Then you felt it, a cool trail snaking up your legs. Dark tendrils of Azriel's shadows slithered through your thighs, caressing your skin with a tantalizing touch that made you clench at the sensation. You gasped as they coiled around your clit, winding you up with a feeling you’d never experienced before. With a loud moan, your orgasm rolled through you in a violent convulsion,  white spots dancing at the edges of your vision.

Azriel hated to think it, hated to admit that the sound of you coming undone on his cock was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard, that feeling your cunt clench around him as the sound filled his ear was enough for him to unravel. With a choked moan, Azriel spilled into you, spurts of his seed coating your walls. You let out a final, breathy whine at the sensation of him spilling into you, feeling as it began to drip as Azriel slowly pulled out.

With a heavy breath, his gaze lingered on the glistening trail connecting the tip of cock to your cunt. The lust in his eyes faintly faded, and a moment of clarity washed over him as the reality of what he’d just done hit like a sudden, cold wave. He didn’t regret it, no, not at all. This was exactly the release Azriel had needed. In fact, a part of him nearly grinned at the realization, at the relief he now felt in his body. But the other part of him, the rational side afraid of disappointing his family, of fucking something up, awoke in a panic. What the fuck had he just done? And why was he so proud of it? 

You slowly stood up, straightening yourself out as you turned to face him, face flushed and hair a tangled mess. There was a ghost of a smirk playing on your lips as you took them between your teeth and bit down. Your breasts were still exposed, nipples peaked and reddened marks from his rough grip. Azriel's eyes traveled down your form, swallowing hard as he took in the sight before him. He could smell the desire that filled the air around you both, could smell himself on you— the image of him plunging in and out of you still fresh in his mind. 

The idea of it alone made his cock stir again. There was something intoxicating about this situation to him. The image of you returning home, covered in his marks, in his scent, in his seed. Eris smelling him on you, realizing that you’d not only fucked someone he despised, but sullied yourself with an illyrian– just as he’d told Mor. And you, you’d remember this. You’d remember him inside you, remember how you let him use you, fuck you like a common-court whore. And you’d have to live with that. Every insult you’d give him, everytime you sneered at him in the future, there would be a part of you that remembered falling apart on his cock as you begged him for more, for him to fuck you harder.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, your dress was perfectly restored, the fabric falling gracefully around your figure as your hair cascaded down your shoulders in silky, untouched, waves. You smoothed out the sleeves of your dress with a practiced gesture before turning your gaze back to Azriel, scanning him from head to toe. Your eyes lingered on his still-exposed cock, covered in the mixed fluids of your cunt and his seed. A smirk played at the corner of your lips as Azriel looked down, realization flickering in his eyes as he hastily pulled up his pants, stuffing himself back into them. 

"Well, this was fun," you remarked casually– almost bored. Azriel resisted the urge to frown at the words, at the tone you used.  "Catch you later, Shadowsinger."

Before he could respond, you were gone, leaving him standing alone in the forest, staring at the empty space before a tree.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Part Two

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

[mommynott]

Can you PLEASEEEE write anything, fucking anything about theo like making you get off on his thigh if that makes sense, like riding his thigh while he’s preoccupied but like he still throws in some praises yk? please i’m such a slut for theo🫡🙏 I LOVE YOUR WORK ALSO LIKE BRO YOU ARE HANDS DOWN MY FAVORITE WRITER.😛🤭

Ahhhhh anon! You’re too sweet, love and appreciate you bunches 🥰

But, my god….Theo would so do this, ESPECIALLY…mafia!theo 👀

When I got your ask I was mid writing my mafia!theo fic and immediately had the idea of him on a business call for the team while needy reader got off on his thigh, so I hope you and all my other beautiful smut sluts enjoy this one!💋

Needy

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Theo’s phone call seemed to drag on so you take matters into your own hands…the neediness taking over. Little did you know how much he enjoyed to see you in that yearning state.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, CHARS 18+, mafia!theo, dom!theo, mafiaboss!theo, thigh riding, degrading, dom&sub, orgasm encouragement, praising

The phone call felt like it was taking forever, each minute dragging out longer than the last. You sat on Theo’s lap, a familiar position that felt… comfortable for you. His strong hand gently stroked your back, the rhythmic motion both soothing and tantalizing. He spoke over the phone in his deep, rugged Italian, his voice wrapped around you like a warming blanket. You found it completely irresistible. There was something about the way the language rolled off his tongue that stirred something deep within you. Fuck. It also didn’t help that you had been feeling particularly needy since waking up, the tension…the sexual need building inside you with each passing second.

“Baby…”

You whined, gently tugging at the collar of his shirt. Theo threw you a sly smirk while nodding his head in agreement from the conversation happening on the phone. A pout formed on your lips, causing him to stifle back a low laugh. You shook your head before throwing one of your legs over his thigh, essentially straddling his thigh. Your mini-skirt flowing around you, leaving your damped lace panties to glide over the material of his linen Gucci trousers.

Slowly, you began to grind yourself against him, rocking your hips back and forth. As you moved, you let your dainty hand stroke over the material of his pants, reaching to the outline of his growing length. “Someone’s being impatient, hm ereditiera?” Theodore mumbled while he swished the phone away from his ear for a split second. “Keep going. And don’t stop til your cum soaks me.” He smirked, the glimmer of darkness in his ocean eyes that you loved so much took over. Almost like it was the ocean meeting the night, a beautiful yet alluring combination.

“Y-yes baby…..gods- yes.” Throwing your hands around the back of his neck for support, Theo flexed his thigh, giving your clit that extra stimulation it needed. His free hand snaking down to your hip, guiding your moves, encouraging you to go even faster. “Atta girl…Riding my thigh like the good little slut you are…My slut.” Once again, he had pulled the phone away from his face to praise you, that smug smirk never leaving his face.

His voice seemed to go deeper as he conversed over the phone. That damn Italian. It drove you mad. His hand guiding you seemed to grind you even faster, pressing you down against him harder. “Theo….I’m-fuck! I’m going to cum-“ Managing to squeak out, Theo smacked a few sloppy kisses along the side of your neck, leaving little love bites as he did. “That’s right…keep going, amore…keep fucking going.” His lips pressed up right against your ear. Hearing the heavy breathing leaving his throat along with the muffled voice on the other end of the call. Little did they know what was going on…

“Cazzo- riding my thigh so well…such a good girl. Finish for me…come on now...don’t make me wait,” He growled against your ear once more, muting the phone call as he spoke the vulgar words to you. And that was enough, your body began to tremble, biting back your moans that oh so badly wanted to escape. Feeling your wetness drip down Theo’s thigh. The smirk on his face was ever-growing. “Fuck…” You managed to heave out, your chest rising and falling with each breath, your eyes flickering between his while the post-orgasm bliss started to blossom.

One more thing was said in the foreign language before hearing the English leave his mouth, that damn accent rolling off his tongue with ease. “Alright, I have to take care of…something. Talk soon- bye.” With that, Theo finally hung up on the dragging phone call before lifting you onto his desk. Kneeling between your thighs while he placed teasing kisses along them. “That was just your warm-up, Cara Mia….Now the real fun begins.”

Ahhhh I had so much fun writing this small little Drabble!

Dividers can be found in my master list 🌙

Requests are open loves💋

[hysteria-things]

can you do a teacher!chris and a college student pleasee. (With smut. And if you want to!!)

PROFESSOR STURNIOLO

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!teacher!chris x student!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: this isn’t your first problem with this specific professor, but at this moment you’re fed up and want to put your foot down.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, p in v, degradation, spanking, masturbation (female), making out, stomach bulge, overstimulation, dumbification, squirting, cream pie

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,535

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we are locked in🫡

your professor dismissed class mere seconds ago, and everybody either has already left the lecture hall or is still packing up. “are you meeting us for lunch?” your friend says, zippering her bag and putting it on her shoulder.

you scoff, shaking your head. “can’t.” you say, ripping out the essay you wrote for this class that was due a few days ago. “professor sturniolo gave me an F on the essay.”

“again?” she questions genuinely shocked. “he’s got a bone to pick with you.”

this isn’t the first encounter like this you had with your professor. this class — your argument and persuasion class — is the only one you’re failing this semester.

not in your three years have you ever had this type of problem, and after many F’s, you’ve finally had enough.

“well, good luck.” your friend sighs, leaving the classroom with the remaining group.

now, that leaves you and him.

it would be a different story if you didn’t do the assignment right or didn’t try on the essay, but you’re one hell of a writer and you’re sure he knows it. you’ve always been good in school, ever since a young age.

normally you wouldn’t pick up fights with teachers, but your blood has been boiling for this dude for weeks.

“what’s your problem with me?” you say sternly, wiggling the paper in your hand as you step down to where he is.

he stops erasing the board and turns to you. “class is over, ms. l/n.”

yeah, no shit.

you roll your eyes. “so? i want to speak with you about my recent essay. you always give me F’s and never explain why. i would understand if it happened once before at the beginning of the year, but for every. single. one? it’s ridiculous.

he’s emotionless as he listens to your rambling, then he shrugs. “it wasn’t good enough.”

you crinkle the paper in your fist and slam it down on the desk in front of you. “wasn’t good enough my fucking ass, professor sturniolo. is it a favoritism thing? or are you fucking the other chicks in your class so they can have good grades? is that what i need to do? do i need to fuck you?”

the moment those words left your mouth, you knew that was a huge mistake.

you wouldn’t be surprised if he does, though. he’s not much older than you, and he is attractive.

he licks his lips, tilting his head toward himself. “bring it over.”

you gulp, feeling slightly intimidated. you uncrinkle the page and hand it to him, who is now sitting in the chair.

not even reading it, he stares at it and looks back up at you. “sorry. your paper didn’t meet the expectations.”

your pinch your lips together to keep you from screaming at him. “you didn’t even read it.” you shake your head. “i should’ve dropped this class when i had the chance. you’re cocky, and a waste of my time. i’m failing probably because your teaching sucks.”

as you start to storm out, he speaks up. “i’m going to have to clean that filthy mouth of yours.” he smirks. “teach you a much-deserved lesson, then afterward you can see if my teaching still sucks.”

you pause in your tracks, face turning beat red as you slowly turn back around. “w-what?”

he motions you to come over with his finger, and for some reason, you listen.

grabbing your wrist, he pulls you over his lap so you’re straddling him. again, you let it happen. you can’t help the wetness that starts to pool between your legs.

“you can admit it, you know,” he whispers, dragging his hand from your waistband to your mouth. he grazes his thumb over your bottom lip.

“a-admit what?” you stammer, shuffling in his lap which causes him to groan and hold your hips.

he chuckles. “deep down you want me to fuck you. i bet you touch yourself to the thought of me like a desperate little thing.”

you look away, face turning even redder than before if possible. “nuh-uh.”

“your face says otherwise.” his whisper shoots a chill up your spine as he starts to unbutton your shorts.

the way your fingers move quickly inside of you have your eyes shut with your mouth dangled open.

you were lucky enough to get a single dorm, so you can do whatever you want without being sneaky about it.

the way your legs are spread makes your fingers dig deeper, curling to hit the right spot. you grip onto your sheets tight, moans and other loud noises leaving your lips.

your previous orgasms make a mess below you or the back of your thighs, but you don’t stop. you’ve been at this for almost an hour because your mind is only focused on one thing.

your lecturer.

professor sturniolo.

“shit.” you pant, your orgasm building for the nth time. you let go of the sheets to massage your breast, pinching at your nipple from time to time.

you whine. “just like that.”

legs shaking, your fingers get coated with yet another orgasm, but you wish it wasn’t your fingers.

you wish it were his.

your shorts are now on the floor, along with your shirt, underwear, and bra. chris still has his clothes on except for his pants.

hovering just above his tip, your lips move in sync with each other. his tongue fights yours, and the erotic sounds of you two kissing fill your ears.

his hands rub along your back before spanking you hard, ruining the intimate moment. you pull away to gasp.

“sit,” he demands, mouth agape as he looks down to watch you try to sink onto his dick.

you grunt from the pleasurable pain, stopping just about midway. he’s probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. “it’s not gonna fit.” you whine.

“i’ll make it fit.”

with that, he grips onto your ass, hammering up into you without being able to adjust first.

you grab onto his shoulders for dear life. you moan uncontrollably, the feeling of him raw inside of you making you grin like a fool.

you’ve been wanting him to do this for a very long time.

“look at you.” he starts, smacking your ass to have you jolt. “having the professor you allegedly hate balls deep in you.”

“i-i do— ha-ate you.” you struggle to get out, a hand landing on your asscheek again.

“is that so?” he mocks, waiting for you to talk back but instead you moan even louder. he nods. “that’s what i thought.”

he bites his lip, looking at the way your tits bounce rapidly and at the bulge in your belly, eyes widening slightly. he’d never seen something like that before.

“i should keep you around more often after class.” he groans, seeing your face of pleasure.

eyes rolled back, mouth hung open, hair disheveled and sticking to your forehead from sweating.

“you make a pretty little cocksleeve.”

that sentence makes you clench around him, your body starting to quiver from the overwhelming feeling. “ngh— feels so go-od. y-you make me feel s-so good.” you whimper. “wanna cum!”

“not until you apologize.” he tuts, grabbing and then spanking your ass. “say you’re sorry, and i might let you cum.”

you whine, his cock now kissing your g-spot more than it did before. “i’m s-sorry.”

“for?”

“for— mm!” you squeal. “for being b-bad.”

“and?”

“and-and—” you can’t finish because of the sudden clear liquid squirting out of you, now making your pussy squelch more than it was before. your back arches even harder, your brain all dazed and dumb from the overstimulation.

you start to lose stability from being too weak, so chris has to hold you by your arms.

he groans, shaking his head at the terrible mess you are making. “come on. you can do it.”

tears spill from your eyes, sobs running past your lips. “a-and for t-talking back. fuck!”

his dick twitches inside, his thrusts getting sloppy. “i hope you’re on the pill because i’m going to fill you deep, baby.”

you can only make sounds, so a high-pitched moan echoes throughout. you’re seeing stars the closer your orgasm approaches before it finally snaps and you’re smearing the ring of white around his dick.

he doesn’t stop, causing your body to twitch in his grasp as another orgasm builds since he’s still fucking deep to your g-spot.

“close again?” he laughs fake. “scream for me. let people know how much of a slut you are; letting your teacher use you to get a better grade.”

your body slowly starts becoming limp, eyes fluttering closed as you moan.

he spanks you for the last time, not caring that his job is on the line.

“louder. they can’t hear you.”

screaming this time, you cum once again when he holds you down on his shaft. you collapse onto his chest, quiet sobs leaving your lips as you feel his cum start to fill you.

he peppers kisses on your shoulders, peeking over them to grab a pen and clicking it open. he scribbles over the previous grade on your essay to write a new one.

A+

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @catalina-island @mbsbaby @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopeno1

[harryslittlefreakk]

make me, darling 2

summary: harry takes y/n home and they continue to blur the lines between love and hate

warnings: PURE smut (oral - m and f receiving, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, overstimulation)

wordcount: 4.5k

a/n: a harry-centric piece!! i don’t think ive written this way before and it was fun <3 thank you for all the love on the first part, I appreciate it so much. enjoy!!

🫡 not proofread i can’t stomach any more smut rn

first part | masterlist | send me more prompts!

“Harry.”

“Don’t- don’t fuckin’ speak,” he groaned, holding a hand up to silence you. His brows knitted together over screwed-shut eyes, his cheeks stained pink.

He was painfully hard, and painfully aware of the likelihood of coming in his pants if you tried to argue with him again.

That glint in your eyes, the goosebumps his touch left on your skin, the anger that coursed through you before it evolved into something greater… he’d played the long game, waiting for you to buckle under the weight of your arousal. And now that you had, it was him that couldn’t hold back.

The blood was pounding in his ears, his cock throbbing, the veins pulsing like a ticking time bomb - he was so close to burying himself in you, feeling your slick around him, getting everything he’d ever wanted.

If only you’d just stop trying to talk to him.

“Harry.”

You said it louder this time, pulling his attention back to you as your hands went to his belt. The brief connection your knuckle made with his cock had his body rigid, his hands immediately pushing into your hair.

“You just don’t stop, do you?” Harry scolded, but this time his infuriating smirk had grown into a full grin, whiskey, arousal and lingering frustration mixing into something dangerously intoxicating as he stared down at you.

“I’m going to take the edge off so you can fuck me like I deserve,” you told him, a hard edge to your voice as you tugged his jeans down.

He was powerless as he sunk onto the edge of the bed, his legs giving way at just the idea of his cock in your smart mouth.

He swallowed hard, the air between you crackling like a live wire. It would be so easy for him to close the gap, to let the tension break and fuck you into total submission. But that would be giving in, letting you win, and he refused to lose to you in any way. He was going to watch you wrap those swollen lips around his girth, to fuck your mouth until it filled with his come, to leave you begging and pleading for him to do the same to your cunt.

As the cold air hit his bare cock, the late night breeze from the open window ghosting over his head, Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, his pulse racing. The game you both played, the constant push and pull - it was maddening. And yet, he couldn’t deny the thrill, the way his heart was pounding in his chest, finally having got you where you both needed to be.

You press wet kisses along his length, a murmur of pure delight vibrating in your throat. But as your hand wrapped around Harry’s cock, his palm made contact with your chest, pushing you away before you even got to taste him.

“Get naked,” Harry groaned, palming at the waistband of your skirt.

You let out a sigh of frustration, ignoring his demand and reaching out for his cock. “Let me do it, Harry.”

“I want to see you.”

When you ignored him again, he grabbed a hold of your skirt with both hands, pulling until the fabric strained and tore. It fell away from your body, your eyes darkening as you stared open-mouthed at the ruins of what was your favourite skirt.

“That’s better,” Harry smirked, knowing now that the more he winds you up, the better this will be for you both. As if he’d let another man see you in that skirt anyway.

“Fucking bastard,” you muttered, pulling your top over your head in defeat. “You’re paying for a new one.”

“‘M not.” He was as stubborn as ever, prolonging the torture for the both of you as you fall dangerously close into argument territory again.

He needed to make you come. You’d be putty in his hands after your first orgasm, a trembling wreck after your second. But he couldn’t even find your glares and comments annoying anymore, not with the way your eyes glossed over as you stared hungrily at his cock.

Then without warning, you pushed yourself from Harry’s grasp, sealing your lips around his head before either of you could annoy each other further.

You let the spit gather in your mouth, your tongue pressing flat against the tip of his cock. Harry could tell from the way your eyes widened slightly that he was bigger than you’d ever expected, and it sends a shot of pure dominance through his veins. His hips bucked into your mouth of their own accord, pushing your lips open around him and allowing more of him into your throat.

You wrapped a hand around the base and steadied yourself, breathless. Your hand pushed up and down his length for a minute, your tongue working fervently around his tip.

Then you looked up at Harry, spit dribbling from the sides of your mouth, your lips swollen and wet around him. Your eyes were narrowed, sparkling with something he hadn’t seen before, but it looked like it would be dangerous for him. “Do that again,” you murmured, lips popping off of his head.

“Do what again?”

You ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, your hand moving to paw at his balls. “Fuck my throat, Harry. I don’t know how I can make that clearer.”

Fuck. You didn’t need to ask him twice.

He pushed his hand into your hair, wrapping it around his fist, his cock finding its way back between your lips. He wasted no time in starting to jackhammer into your throat, your cheeks caving in around his girth as his cock hit everywhere it could reach.

The deep moans that vibrated against him turned into splutters and gags, your throat closing around Harry as his head pummelled the back of your throat, his eyes locked on your face, his hand tangled in your hair.

You were breathless, suffocated by his size as he fucked into your mouth, his hips snapping rigidly as groans and moans clawed their way out from his chest.

“Little cumslut,” Harry growled, tugging on your hair until your eyes met his. You were coming undone in front of him, your frosty exterior melting away to something more vulnerable, yet he could see the power in your eyes, the way you held his gaze as you gagged around his cock.

His thrusts became sloppier, his cock twitching at the back of your throat. You gripped onto his thighs, following his hips with your mouth, your lips and tongue and hollowed cheeks just moving and sucking and licking until his come poured into your mouth, a moan of appreciation trembling through your body.

You swallowed around Harry as he jerked and bucked into you, his head thrown back on his shoulders as he came, your mouth never ceasing until he was finally empty.

You waited for his breathing to slow before leaning back on your heels, biting down on your lower lip with a satisfied grin playing on your lips. Harry shook his head softly, pushing his hands under your armpits to pull you onto his lap, a needy groan falling from your mouth as his cock brushed your core.

His fingertip dabbed at the corner of your mouth, collecting the leftover come that hadn’t quite made it past your swollen lips, pushing it between them.

He chose to ignore how quickly his cock sprung back to life, his passion reignited by the way your tongue swirled around his fingertip as if it hadn’t just been his cock between those rosebud lips.

“I’m not gonna be so nice next time you talk back to me,” Harry whispered, his lips ghosting over your jawline, pressing rough kisses across your neck.

You tugged his head back to face yours, licking over his bottom lip with the unmistakable tingle of him on your tongue. “It doesn’t seem like you have the power you think you have,” you murmured, pushing your core onto his bulge, just enough to see his eyes darken.

So you still wanted to play games.

Harry wrapped his arms around your waist, rolling you both over until he was on top of you, one hand planted to the side of your head. The other danced over your belly and across your mound, two ringed fingers swiping through your slick.

“Seems like I do, sweetheart,” Harry smirked, his hand coming to rest on your cunt, so close to giving you what you needed and yet not close enough.

It was always going to end this way. He’d always been sure of it. The tension and the fights were a rubber band, pulling you closer and closer together, the anger and hatred morphing into something more until the band snapped and the two of you poured all that wasted energy back into each other.

What he didn’t know is whether this would be the start of something else, the first of many nights wrapped up in each other, or if this would be the one and only chance he had. So he’d made a conscious decision to savour it, to fuck you too well, to make it so that while you were sleeping with other men, you always thought of him.

He wanted to make you come. He wanted to bury his face in your pussy, to be the reason your thighs shook and your clit throbbed, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

“Harry. Do something, please,” you begged, reaching for his hand, your whine going straight to his cock. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding you tight as he pinned your hand beside your head, his jaw tense.

“Why the rush?” he whispered, his groin pressing into your writhing body, trapping you between his cock and the mattress.

“You got to come already,” you pouted, trying to wriggle out from under him.

“And you’ll get to come as many times as you can.” Harry leaned closer to your face, his lips brushing against your cheek. “Or maybe not, if you carry on.”

He waited for his threat - as empty as it was - to sink in, for you to stop trying to resist him, before he pulled his hand away from yours and used it to cup your chin, his eyes trailing over your face.

There had always been sharp glares, fire burning behind your eyes, your brows knitted and your cheeks hot with rage. But now there was a plea in your eyes, desperation that replaced the flames and burned a hundred times brighter, a softness that he’d never been privy to.

He’d never noticed the scar on your cheek, the faded freckles that dotted your skin, the specks of orange against the browns of your eyes.

His breath caught in his throat as he took you in, his gaze tracing over your features with a newfound reverence. You looked up at him, eyes narrowed and uncertain, your lips parted slightly. “What?”

“Fucking beautiful.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he watched as your eyes widened, your cheeks flushing a soft pink.

He felt his pulse quicken, desire unfurling in his depths like a tidal wave. His mouth moved to your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin with hunger and urgency.

“I hate you,” he whispered, his words peppered with a low growl as they vibrated against your skin. “I hate how much I want you.”

He moved to kneel between your legs, his hands moving almost of their own accord, sliding down your shoulders, then lower, tracing the curve of your waist, his touch rough, his brows furrowed as he waited to see what made you shiver, where he needed to focus to have you trembling.

His hands slid up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the thin mesh of your bra.

His hands pushed under you to the clasp of your bra, pulling the fabric from your body. His lips immediately found your chest, warm, wet kisses travelling over the curve of both your tits, your sternum, the peaks of your nipples. His touch was rough while his mouth was gentle, his appreciative purrs washing over your skin as he explored the peaks and dips of your upper body.

You let out a soft moan, your back arching off the mattress, something primal and explosive tearing through Harry and through all of the reasons he had to savour you. He needed to taste and touch every inch of you without wasting another second.

You let out a soft moan, your back arching off the mattress, something primal and explosive tearing through Harry and through all of the reasons he had to savour you. He needed to taste and touch every inch of you without wasting another second.

His fingers spread you open, his lips parting slightly at just the sight of you before him. You were coated in your slick, glistening under the glow of his lamp, looking fucking delicious.

His pressed his tongue flat to your cunt, his nose nudging against your clit, his lips quirking up into a smile. You were writhing already, your hands straight to his hair.

Harry pulled your leg over his shoulder, opening you up for him before swiping his tongue through your folds. You pulled his head towards your cunt, your ankle wrapping around his neck, burying his face in your slick.

He chuckled against you, your desperation not something he could ignore. “All this time…” Harry murmured, pulling away as his tongue rolled over his bottom lip. “All this time and you just needed me like this.”

His middle finger found your clit, rubbing circular motions on the nerves as you fought a losing battle against your arousal.

You were panting, your chest heaving as his tongue fucked into you, his moans reverberating through you both as he soaked up all your slick, your cunt grinding into his face. He was everywhere, his touch overwhelming you as you arched and writhed, his tongue never ceasing as it collected your wetness, licking and slurping until something in your core exploded.

Your thighs started to tremble around his head, your free hand clenching the sheets next to your body as the orgasm took hold of you, Harry’s moans shooting an extra level of pleasure through you both. He was rock hard again, in fucking heaven as you came into his mouth, his fingers and his tongue working nonstop to pull you through your high.

Only they didn’t stop. He couldn’t pull himself away from you after seeing how your body reacted to him.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to sit up in front of him, his face still nestled between your thighs.

His fingers replaced his tongue, one, then two, then three, until they were knuckle-deep in your slick, fucking into you until the thighs that had barely finished trembling begun to shake once more.

His cock was, once again, a ticking time bomb, throbbing and jerking against the cotton of the duvet as he watched his knuckles disappear into you - the same fingers that only ever wore elaborate rings, now sheathed inside of your sopping cunt.

“Harry, please,” you whimpered, your fingers tight in his curls. Desperation laced your words, the not-so subtle edge of restraint and need pulling Harry’s gaze away from your entrance and up to your eyes. Your cheeks flushed with desire, your lips chewed up and swollen. He let his eyes linger for just long enough to remember that face, to have something to hold onto when you inevitably fought again. He’d done that to you.

“What do you need?”

“I need to come, Harry, fuck,” you told him, practically demanding, your free hand grabbing a hold of his face and keeping it fixed on yours. “Please.”

And with one tiny movement, a barely noticeable curl of his fingers inside of you, he found your sweet spot, the one he’d known he would find, and you came apart.

He fought against your grip, desperate to get his mouth on you so that you could come onto his tongue again. But you were unrelenting, the eye contact never breaking even as he watched your vision blur. Your nails cut into his cheeks, his mouth falling open in the little space it had as you rolled your hips against his hand, his name mixing with the string of expletives that cut through your moans.

Harry could feel the smirk on his lips when you came around, your eyes locking back onto his with a subtle scowl. You hated him being the one to do this to you, he could tell. He could see your inner turmoil - the part of you that wanted this to be a one time thing, a way to get it out of your system, at war with the part of you that had realised that this isn’t the kind of sex you only allow yourself once.

He sat down on the sliver of bed between your thighs, pulling you onto his lap as your scowl deepened. The brush of his cock against your slick was maddening, but he could tell that you wanted to say something. Something that got in the way of every instinct he had, every voice in his head willing him to buck his hips into your slick.

Your anger had returned in the wake of your high, and the same frustration that he’d usually feed upon was now just a source of pure fucking irritation for him.

“What?”

“What the fuck are we doing?” your voice was as clipped as it could be with your arousal still dripping off the ends of your words.

"I dont know, why would I know?” Harry snapped, his hands loose around your waist.

“You did this! You kissed me, you wanted me.”

He reached up to push your hair from your face, your hand immediately swatting it away. “I still want you,” he murmured, locking his fingers around your wrist.

“And what happens next? You sleep with me, nothing changes and we carry on fighting?”

Harry’s gaze was stuck on your tits as you spoke, something he’d try to feel bad about later but he was doubtful that would happen. “No.” He replied after a beat, his eyes tracing the curves of your body until they landed on your face. “‘M gonna fuck you, if you’ll let me, and then I will keep fucking you, over and over, any time you'll let me, for as long as you’ll let me.”

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingertips starting to dig into the soft skin at the top of your hips.

You shook your head, pulling away from his grasp. “We hate eachother, Harry, we've always hated each other.”

“That’s a load of shit and you know it." His smug smirk was back, and he knew it. But he didn’t want to talk about feelings and after and what could happen and what tomorrow would bring. He was hard, and pissed off, and he wanted to fuck you. To let his cock do the talking and show you how he felt.

“Dont tell me-”

“If I hated you,” Harry started, cutting you off in the middle of whatever bullshit you were about to say, his hand moving around to the curre of your ass. “Then why would I lay in bed at night trying to figure out why the fuck I can't get you out of my head?”

“You’re impossible,” you hissed, leaning a little closer, your hands twitching with the urge to shove him, to do something to release the frustration. But Harry kept his grip firm, his eyes flashing.

“And you’re infuriating,” he growled, his voice rough. “Fucking infuriating.”

The space between you disappeared in an instant, and before he could think, before he could even register what was happening, your mouth was on Harry’s, crashing into his with a force that knocked the breath out of him. It was wild, desperate, filled with all the pent-up anger and frustration that had built between you. Your first kiss since he bought you home.

You gasped against his lips, your hands flying up to his chest, intending to push him away, but instead, your fingers gripped onto his shoulders, anchoring yourself on his thighs.

Harry’s hands were both on your ass, gripping you so tightly he knew you’d feel it later, but neither of you seemed to care. You kissed him back with equal force, biting at his lip, a mixture of anger and desire flooding you both, meeting in your mouths, a clash of wills that neither of you were willing to lose.

“Why do you always do this to me?” you panted, breaking the kiss for a moment, your forehead pressing against his as you caught your breath. “Why can’t I—”

“I don’t know,” Harry muttered, his voice rough, his breath hot. His hands moved up and down your back, pulling you impossibly closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between you. “I don’t fucking know.”

Then he was kissing you again, harder this time, his fingers digging into your hips. His head spun, his heart pounding in his chest as you kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging roughly in frustration. A low growl in your throat as though you wanted to hurt him, to punish him for you want him so badly when you should just fucking hate him.

Harry groaned against your lips, his hands sliding down to your thighs, pushing you down against his cock until you caught his drift, rolling your hips over his length until you were panting into each others mouths, hands roaming and raking across each other’s skin.

“Fuck me, just fuck me,” you whispered against his lips, your head rolling back on your shoulders as you finally gave in to him.

He lifted you up for a second, hissing at the loss of your touch to his cock as he lined up his head with your entrance. “My wallet,” he rasped, his head falling forwards. He couldn’t handle another obstacle in the way of fucking you. His cock was angrily hard, pulsating at your entrance as he waited for you to move. “Fuck, Harry. Just pull out,” you panted, tugging on the curls at the nape of his neck.

Just fucking pull out. That was his final straw. He pushed into you, his dominant hand trailing up your body until it came to rest at your neck, gripping you tightly as he bottomed out in one fucking thrust.

“So fucking dirty,” Harry whispered, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as his hand tensed around your throat, his self-restraint out the window. Your walls pulsated around his girth, your slick warm and welcoming, your juices mingling at the base of his cock.

“You can't handle it?” you teased, your voice strained as his thumb pushed against your windpipe.

Harry felt his eyes darken, his jaw tensing as the familiar cloud of pure, unbridled heat moved over him. “You can't handle it,” he rasped, pulling out of you before slamming back in, his thrust drawing a deep cry from the depths of your core.

It was the closest he’d get to heaven, he was sure of it. The chorus of slapping skin as he jackhammered into you, the pants and moans punctuating each thrust spurred you both on, your pleasure growing.

Harry ducked his head, his mouth finding your pebbled nipple, his tongue flicking over the bud, his teeth scraping the soft skin as the harshness of his thrusts jolted your body up and down.

Your hand wrapped around his, pushing it tighter around your neck. “I can take it, Harry. Don’t hold back.”

He paused when your words reached his ears, his mouth hanging open around the peak of your nipple. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he growled, his fingertips pressing tighter into your throat, your pulse strong against his palm.

He was mildly aware of how arrogant he sounded, but not in the headspace to give a shit. His arrogance was, after all, what had gotten you into his bed in the first place.

He shifted you on his lap, just enough for his thrusts to go deeper, his cock filling every inch of you.

You squirmed on top of him, the new angle just right for his groin to brush your clit with every movement either of you made. Harry’s mouth trailed across your sternum, his teeth clamping down around your other nipple, your tits bouncing against his face as he fucked into you. His free hand moved to splay across your ass, guiding your movements faster and faster until your walls started to tense around him.

Your eyes were clouded over when he peered up at you, eyelids heavy with the weight of an impending third orgasm. You threw your head back, your body arching into Harry’s chest as your cunt fluttered around his thrusts, his tip throbbing as you held him in a vice. The sound that came out of you was almost animalistic, a strangled cry of something that sounded vaguely like his name. Music to his fucking ears.

He let your high wash over you, barely allowing you the time to come back down to Earth before his hand landed a loud smack on the curve of your ass, the noise echoing around the room, filling the space that wasn’t taken up by moans and growls.

He flipped you suddenly, needing to feel you from a new angle, an easier way to pull out of you as his own orgasm crept up on him.

“Taking me so well, princess. So responsive,” he rasped, pulling your legs onto his shoulders so that he could fuck you harder, deeper.

He pulled his hand away from your throat, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the redness that he knew would bruise. A beautiful, purple hand-shaped mark that no one would know was his, but would let everyone know that you were being fucked the way you deserved.

His thrusts were getting sloppy, his resolve ebbing as you stared up at him open-mouthed, your eyes dark.

“Come, Harry. Come for me,” you whispered, your lips curling into a devilish smirk. He pulled out of you, cursing instantly at the loss of contact with your cunt, pumping his cock until his orgasm shot through his core, his cock jerking against his fist.

He exploded, ribbons of come spurting onto your front, pooling immediately in your cleavage and belly button. His breathing was hard, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, watching the last drops splash against your skin.

“Fuck,” he whispered, running a hand through his curls, well and truly spent. “Fuck.”

You flashed him a cheeky grin, swiping a finger through his come and slipping it past your lips, moaning appreciatively.

“We are definitely doing that again.”

please like & reblog if you enjoyed!!! 💖

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[miumura]

ᯓ VILLAIN NEVER DIES — HEESEUNG FIC ๋࣭

SYNOPSIS Heeseung was great at his job—you knew that as one of the biggest villains. So, without a doubt, he was going to have you cornered. At a weakened state, Heeseung tried to save you, rather than killing you. Why? Because he loves you.

PAIRING hero!heeseung x villain-gn!reader

𓍼 WARNINGS profanity, violence, quite graphic? ( blood /cuts / blade ; just more detailed ), both are in visible pain

GENRE a little enemies to lovers action, forbidden love, betrayal, angst, comfort (?) — WORD COUNT 1.8K+ ( 1855 )

NOTE no joke i woke up from a nap and started writing away 😅 BUT WOOOO FIRST HERO X VILLAIN FIC 🗣️ i actually had fun writing this one 🫡 !! maybe i should write more stuff like this … thinking about it !

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, taking a look at your surroundings once again. You took the wrong exit out of the building, feeling yourself panic. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Placing your hand over the fresh wound on your arm, you winced, uttering a series of curses under your breath. The footsteps drew nearer, and you found yourself trapped. "Oh, is our most dangerous and scary villain stuck?" You turned to see the city's proclaimed "best" hero, Lee Heeseung.

“Fucking hell,” you whispered, but it was loud enough for Heeseung to hear, making him break into a smirk. You backed away—only to fall onto the boxes behind you, making you close your eyes due to the stinging pain.

“You’re weaker than I thought,” You hear Heeseung’s footsteps approaching you, and you flutter your eyes open, only to see him with a huge smirk while holding a blade to your throat. “This is the villain everyone in the city fears about?”

"You're quite the cocky hero, huh?" You retort, maintaining unwavering eye contact. In response, he just offers a serene smile, seemingly unruffled by the exchange.

“Not cocky, just simply telling the truth. You’re less stronger than the other villains I’ve been able to take out myself.”

Now that pissed you off. Just as you were about to grab his arm, he pushed you down again, making you wince one more time. The pain from you colliding with the wall during the chase was coming back to you again.

You glanced at him, breathing heavily after your rough collision with the boxes behind you. The unmistakable sting of glass shards embedded in your skin added to your discomfort, each movement sending sharp jolts of pain through your body. “What makes me so different from the other villains?” you demanded, locking eyes with Heeseung as he stood over you.

Seizing the moment, you grabbed onto his arm with all the strength you could muster, pulling the blade he wielded closer to your shoulder. The sharp point of the weapon had already pierced your skin, drawing a thin line of blood. You pressed his hand down harder, feeling the cold steel bite deeper. Despite your effort to provoke him, Heeseung resisted, his grip tightening as he fought to stop you.

"Stop this," Heeseung said, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. His eyes searched yours, looking for something beyond the rage and defiance.

“I think we both know the answer to that, don’t we?” you said, pushing the blade even deeper into your shoulder. The pain was excruciating, but you refused to drop this act. “You love me.”

“Shut up,” Heeseung snapped, his voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation.

But you could see the truth in his eyes. Despite the pain and the blood, you pressed on, your voice trembling. “Admit it, Heeseung. You can’t stand the thought of losing me.”

“Stop it,” he snarled, trying to pull the blade away, but you held firm, forcing him to face the reality he was denying. “I can easily take you out now.”

His voice was filled with frustration, but also filled with conflict. You clearly knew he was faltering, he just didn’t want to admit it as the supposed hero he was.

"Then why don't you?" you shot back, your voice steady despite the searing pain. "You already have me here, clearly at a weak point."

Heeseung's grip on the blade tightened momentarily, his knuckles white. But instead of pressing forward, he hesitated, his eyes searching yours.

"Because," he finally said, his voice low and filled with emotion, "I can't bring myself to do it. No matter how much I try, I can't see you as just a villain. You're more than that to me."

"You're weak," you taunted, though your words lacked the usual venom. You needed to understand his hesitance, to push him to reveal the truth.

"The most wanted villain is in your hands, and yet you can’t take them out because of your feelings?" You scoffed, incredulous at how he continued to play the hero. "I didn’t know you were such a softie."

"Call me a softie then," Heeseung replied, his voice steady but filled with earnestness. "Throw all the insults you want at me—just remove the blade, please. I beg of you."

You hesitated, your grip on the blade faltering. His plea caught you off guard, the raw emotion in his eyes breaking through your defenses. For a moment, the lines between hero and villain blurred, leaving just two people caught in a complex web of emotions.

"Why should I?" you challenged, trying to regain control of the situation. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because this isn't who you are," Heeseung said softly, his eyes searching for yours. "You’re not just a villain. I see the conflict in you, the struggle. You don’t want to hurt people. And deep down, I think you don’t want to hurt me."

“Yeah right,” you said with a shaky breath, you slowly released the blade, the weight of it falling from your hand. The pain in your shoulder was still there, but the intensity of the moment overshadowed it. “As if you can change me.”

Heeseung immediately tended to your wound, tearing another strip from his clothing to staunch the bleeding. His touch was tender, careful not to cause you more pain. "Thank you," he murmured, relief evident in his voice.

"You keep letting me off easy. I know you’re a better hero than this," you said, your voice edged with frustration and disbelief.

Heeseung sighed, his expression conflicted. "Maybe I’m not the hero you think I am," he admitted, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. "Maybe it’s my tendency of wanting to save all kinds of people. Good or not."

You stared at him, caught off guard by his words. "What are you saying, Heeseung? That you think I can be saved?"

"I know you can be," he replied, his voice firm with conviction. "I've seen the good in you, and we both know that. You can keep lying to yourself, but we both feel something for each other.”

“Shut up,” you managed to wince as he wrapped your arm, the pain from your injury mingling with the turmoil of your emotions.

Heeseung paused for a moment, his fingers gentle but steady as he continued to bandage your wound. "Deny it all you want," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "But it’s the truth. And deep down, you know it too."

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?" you asked, your voice strained. "Why not just kill me, end this once and for all?"

"Because I can’t," Heeseung said, his voice breaking with the weight of his emotions.

"Then you’ll fail your mission. Your main goal," you coughed out, the effort sending a jolt of pain through your shoulder. "Getting rid of me."

Heeseung’s grip tightened slightly on the bandage, his eyes hardening with resolve. "No," he said firmly, shaking his head. "My mission is to protect this city, to save lives. And that includes you."

You scoffed, "You can’t save everyone, Heeseung. Sometimes, you have to let go."

"I’m not letting go of you," he replied, his voice fierce. "Not now, not ever."

"Why?" you demanded, frustration and confusion mingling with the pain. "Why can’t you just do your job and get rid of me?"

"Because," Heeseung said, his voice softening, "you’re not just a mission to me. You’re someone I care about. And I refuse to believe that you’re beyond saving."

Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his eyes almost too much to bear. "You’re risking everything for me," you whispered. "For what? A chance that I might change?"

"Yes," Heeseung said without hesitation. "I believe in that chance. I believe in you."

You shut your eyes, refusing to speak anymore. You knew if you continued, your facade would crumble, and you wouldn’t want to appear weak in front of a hero who claimed to have so much faith in you.

"You sure have some nerve to have faith in someone like me," you muttered bitterly, keeping your eyes closed.

"So what?" Heeseung replied, his voice unwavering. "Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of their past."

"A villain never dies," you retorted, your tone laced with defiance.

"What—" Heeseung started, but you cut him off before he could finish his thought. Without hesitation, you seized the blade he had discarded on the side and lunged at him, stabbing him in the side. He gasped in shock and pain, his eyes widening with betrayal as he stumbled back, clutching his wound.

For a moment, you stood frozen, watching as the reality of what you had done sank in. Heeseung’s expression was a mixture of shock, hurt, and disbelief, and each emotion felt like a dagger to your own heart.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. But your apology fell on deaf ears as Heeseung staggered backwards, his eyes never leaving yours.

You knew you felt terrible, and you usually don’t.

You can’t.

Emotions were supposed to be reserved for the weak, for those who had the luxury of feeling. All you had left in you was hatred. And you knew Heeseung didn’t believe that though. He just had seen you like everyone else, a person with emotions and feelings.

But you can’t listen to him. You’ve already fallen so deep in your ways. You couldn’t allow yourself to believe in that possibility. You had fallen too deep into your ways, too far gone to be saved, even if he claimed otherwise.

"YN, why?" Heeseung's voice rang out behind you, filled with hurt and confusion.

"A villain never dies, Heeseung," you replied coldly, steeling yourself against the emotions threatening to surface. You reverted to the persona you had carefully crafted. “Did I just not tell you that?”

"Next time, get me with no intentions to keep me alive," you added, your voice devoid of any warmth or remorse.

"But—" Heeseung started, but you cut him off, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Heeseung, you’re smarter than this," you said sharply, your tone cutting through the night air like a knife. Before you could lose your resolve, you turned away, the pain of your actions heavy in your heart.

But before you could disappear into the darkness, you paused, turning back to face him one last time. "You’ve built up this fantasy, thinking we could make things work just because I’ve opened up to you a couple of times," you said, your voice tinged with bitterness. "And even if you want to change things, no one can approve of us. I’ve done too much harm, and you have to stop me from hurting your people."

You looked at him, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "Villains and heroes are never meant to be together," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “You know that very well.”

💬 : too much angst lately sorry guys ive been going thru it 😣 fluff soon !!!! (maybe)

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