#but its too hot for tighter trousers

[cult-of-the-eye]

brooo it's literally impossible to be anything other than skinny during the summer

[philistiniphagottini]

16, 60, 66 and 71,,, for Aventurine if it's alright please? If you're still doing these ofc! Lowkey craving for soft femdom towards Aventurine Q__Q;;;

Hi yes, Anon, I am still doing requests for the smut prompts. It is a permanant list on my blog that you can request from whenever. Thanks for the request, it was fun writing for Aventurine again. Enjoy~

Smut Prompts

16 + 60 + 66 + 71

cw. smut, hand job, praise, soft femdom, mentions of aphrodisiac (Aven eats too many oysters lol), female reader, MDNI

With a soft sigh falling from your parted lips you crawled into Aventurine’s lap, plump thighs straddling and caging his slender legs. A slow smirk crawled over his lips as you settled, his body gently bouncing on the mattress as he peered up at you beneath the thick rim of his glasses, bright eyes shimmering beneath the pale bedroom light. 

"You really shouldn’t have eaten all those oysters at the gala" you said, fingers working the clasp of his belt.

A warm chuckle breezed past Aventurine’s lips as he rolled his shoulders with a nonchalant shrug.

"What can I say? I have expensive tastes" he replied with a charming smile.

You couldn’t help the soft snort of laughter that wormed its way up your throat. He gave you a sly wink as you popped the button of his trousers and with a pointed roll of your eyes you gently shoved his chest, coaxing him into leaning further back for you. Aventurine complied to your silent request, propping his upper body with his elbows as he watched you work with practised ease. The muscles in his stomach jumped as your fingers trailed along the wisps of fair hair of his happy trail, following it all the way down with tantalising touches until it disappeared beneath the band of his underwear. His cock was achingly hard even before you had crawled into his lap, the weeping head leaving behind a dark, wet splotch on the fabric of his underwear as his dick twitched in anticipation. He opened his mouth to offer a teasing remark but he immediately choked on the words when your fingers touched hardened warmth.

He had to swallow the budding saliva on his tongue as your fingers grazed against his sensitive cock, the aphrodisiac heightening his senses to an almost tortuous degree as it felt like your mere touch was pressing against the live wire of his nerves. A soft moan fell from his kiss-swollen lips as his cock sprung free from his underwear, the drooling tip glistening like morning dew as beads dripped from the tip. A pleasant heat licked at the base of his spine as a warm hum bubbled up your throat, a soft smile stretching your lips as your thumb circled the leaking slit of his dick.

"My, my Aventurine. You’re so big for me~"

A groan fell from Aventurine’s lips as he struggled to keep his eyes uncrossed and his gaze focused on your sumptuous body perched above him. His hands curled around your plump thighs, fingers sinking into the plush skin and squeezing generous amounts of your supple flesh. His gaze lingered on your chest, the rosy tips of your nipples peeking through the lacy material of your bra and tempting him to have a taste. Even if his head was spinning and stuffed full of cotton, he would remember to do that later, after you helped soothe his aching problem. You loosely curled your fingers around his cock, drawing a breathy gasp from him as you slowly pumped your fist along his shaft. You softly cooed his name as more of his creamy essence dribbled over your fingers as you stroked him, your grip turning firm as another loud moan was wrenched from Aventurine. 

"Good boy" you gently praised. "You’re already doing so well."

Your praise made his cock jump in the palm of your hand, his back arching as you stroked him a little harder. His usual silver tongue started to feel like lead in his mouth, drool gathering at the corners of his lips at the wet sound your fist made as you messily stroked him. The hot knot coiling in the pit of his stomach winched tighter as his hands squeezed your supple thighs once more, grip almost bruising as another sinful noise crawled out of the back of his throat. It felt like there was magic laced on the tips of your fingers as you rubbed your hand against his searing flesh, his cock twitching and aching as another pleased noise stirred in your chest, making his heart stammer frantically as you cooed his name so sweetly.

"Does it feel good, baby?" you asked, your voice dripping like honey as it warmed his throat. 

Aventurine nodded along to your words, long eyelashes brushing against his burning hot cheeks as he fought to peel his tongue off the roof of his mouth long enough to respond.

"So fucking good baby" he replied with a heady slur, saliva shimmering on his lips. "So good."

You hummed, pleased with his answer as your pace started to pick up. It felt like his blood was boiling in his veins as his cock kicked weakly against the palm of your hand, flushed tip swollen and aching for release. Your wrist curled around his cock as his hips snapped up to meet the delicious friction, almost bucking you from your seat atop of him. You gently hushed him as another hoarse whimper tickled his throat, free hand rubbing against his hip as you coaxed his lower half back down to the mattress. His entire body felt like it was on fire as the muscles in his thighs tensed, throat bobbing with each desperate moan spilling from his lips. 

"Please" he softly begged. 

Aventurine twisted between the sweat soaked sheets as you purred like a content cat. You leaned over him, engulfing him in your shadow as you peered down at him through thick lashes. 

"That’s my good boy. Cum for me."

Your words made him snap in an instant. Your hand stroked him to completion as thick ropes of his seed spilled over your fingers and painted his abdomen, his cock throbbing in your hand as he moaned your name like it was the only word he remembered. Your pace started to slow as you squeezed the last of his spend from the leaking tip of his dick, his overloaded nerves tingling as you milked him dry of every last drop. A thin sheen of sweat dotted Aventurine’s brow as he stirred beneath you, gulping down haggard gasps of breath as he stared up at you with eyes just as dazed as his mind. You rubbed your hand along his hip, eyes swimming with warmth as you gazed at him with soft eyes.

"Are you feeling okay?" you asked.

Aventurine hummed in response, tense grip on your thighs loose as he idly rubbed his thumbs in circles into your skin. The erratic beat of his heart started to taper off as he regained control of his breathing, his senses slowly crawling back to him under the warm touch of your hands. He gave you a smile, eyebrows raised as his hands curled around your hips. 

"Hmm, I don’t think the aphrodisiacs have worn off quite yet" he mused. "Care to help me again, pretty girl?"

[latoyalestrange]

heirloom

s. sallow x reader

summary: drabble based loosely on this request. to be honest i think if i wrote this with any angst at all it would be too painful lmao so here is a fluffy version where sebastian gives you his mother's necklace and its just a really sweet moment.

words: 630

warnings: fluff, establish relationship, sebastian being hot and dominant, aged up seb and mc, not edited!

you'd gotten an owl from sebastian during free period while you were studying in your dorm.

Meet me near the lover's lookout. Urgent.

S

you instantly smiled at his scribbles. you'd missed him all day, having a completely different class schedule than his. deciding not to waste any more time, you quickly fixed yourself in the mirror and left to meet him at your designated spot. it was a short walk across the hogwarts lush grounds before you could spot him pacing on a nearby hill with a small, cobblestone courtyard on top. the autum leaves danced in the breeze around him and the sunset made it look like his skin was glowing. you didn't notice the smile that instinctively appeared on your face as you quickened your pace. his expression mirrored yours as you caught his eye when you approached.

"ah, love. there you are." he sounded relieved as he opened his arms for you to curl into, kissing the top of your head when you closed the gap.

"i missed you all day," you mumbled into his chest, taking in his comforting scent. "what was so urgent?" you craned your neck to meet his dark eyes that looked like tiger's eye stones in the sunlight. you could see his face shift as he swallowed, his tie seeming tighter than before around his neck.

"i...have something for you." he patted his pockets frantically after stepping back, looking in his pockets nervously. a blush formed on your cheeks, he was always giving you little gifts to remind you of his love for you. he wasn't the best at writing poems but he was an incredible shopper.

"ah, here..." he dug in the pocket of his trousers and held the small contents out to you in his hands. you saw a delicate, sparkling chain with a brilliant stone pendant that changed colors when you shifted it in the light.

"oh, sebastian..." you were breathless as you stared at the gem in his hands. "it's stunning!" your hands covered your heart as if to protect it from the overwhelming sweetness.

"it was my mums." he looked down at the necklace in his hands adoringly, a sad, but content smile on his lips.

"oh, you don't have to--" you began to refuse, but he interrupted you.

"i want you to have it." his eyes finally met yours again, smile still unfazed. you couldn't find any words as he walked around you, brushing your hair to the side. his fingers ghosted over your neck, sending bumps across the skin around them as he wrapped the cool metal around your neck and clasping it together. he fixed your hair once he was finished and pressed a loving kiss to your temple, comforting you slightly. you looked down at the jewelry that now decorated your bosom with amazement, taking it in your gentle palm. he came back into your view, relishing in the sight of his family heirloom around your neck.

"i don't deserve this, sebastian." you shook your head, feeling entirely unworthy of such a beautiful and meaningful gift. he stepped towards you, palming the side of your face with his toned hand, forcing your gaze to lock with his.

"hey, none of that." his eyes trailed down to your lips, then to your chest. "you are to never take it off. understood?" you didn't have the courage to protest as you saw him looming over you with such a firm grip on your face. you nodded instead.

"understood." it was your turn to trace your eyes over his plush lips, silently begging for contact. it was visible in the way you bit down on your lower lip with anticipation. he granted your wish, your lips connecting tenderly. you huffed as he pulled away.

"good."

reblog if you made it to the end!

[fic--writer]

Crime in Ramazith's Tower

Fanfic Rolan/femTav 18+

Life went on as usual until a prankster appeared in the tower, who “played” with the master of the Ramazith tower, put everyone in an awkward position and disrupted all plans. Adventure novel with NSFW elements. P.S. This chapter is just over 2000 words I will be happy if you are inspired and make art inspired by this text. tag me.

Chapter 1

"Let's not talk about it"

The evening was cloudless, warmth permeating everything.

Tav was resting on the balcony of Ramazit's tower, gazing into the distant contours of the landscape. The sky was painted with the rays of the departing sun, surrounding everything in a golden light. It had been four months since the fall of the illithids.

Days went by, former allies now had their own affairs. As for Tav, she lived and worked in Ramazit's tower. After defeating Lorrokhan, Rolan had mentioned that everything that was his also belonged to her. Deciding to take advantage of this, she, as a seasoned mage, took Rolan as her apprentice and moved into his (of course, his!) tower. Her days mainly consisted of routine: assisting with Sorcerous Sundries, teaching Rolan, her own magical experiments, and overall, she was content with her now peaceful life. Everything would have continued in its own course if not for this.

Rolan stepped out onto the balcony after a day's work at the shop and unusually closed the door behind him carefully. "Hey," he greeted, leaning against the railing. "How was your day?"

He was dressed in a beige frilly shirt and dark trousers, seemingly in good spirits.

Their relationship with Tav had taken on an almost friendly tone but maintained a formal demeanor. Rolan treated Tav with respect, as one should treat their mentor. This was particularly appreciated by him, considering his experience with his previous teacher. He was sincerely grateful.

As for Tav, she didn't deny to herself that the master of Ramazit's tower possessed true charm. However, she didn't dare to tread on thin ice and spoil their relationship with flirtation. Sometimes Rolan allowed himself to linger his gaze on her slightly longer than appropriate, but nothing beyond the bounds of decency. Tav was delicate and respected the boundaries they had set.

"Oh, I've been experimenting with different ways of manipulating weaving. Everything okay?"

He just warmly smirked, "More than okay."

But his eyes slid past her, as if searching for something unsaid. Rolan moved abruptly closer to her, closing the distance between them. Tav looked uncertain, and before she could grasp anything, he silenced her with a passionate kiss. It started boldly, without any prior courtship. The one who had previously shown prudence and behaved decently had changed for some unknown reason, or decided to take a risk. His wild outbursts, which had been of a completely different nature before, confused her. He didn't give her time to think. Tav hesitated and resisted the thought of what was happening, but something inside her clenched and demanded the continuation of this forbidden dance.

She decided to allow herself to drown in this moment. His audacity startled her, but how could she know what tieflings were like in the art of passion? After all, she had never been with a tiefling.

At first, his kisses only felt on her lips, they were so hot against her human skin. Then his tongue ventured into exploring her mouth, and Tav felt something velvety and ridged on its surface, which made her marvel. He was literally consuming her, so impatient and unrestrained, yet once he taught her not to be greedy. But now he embodied greed itself. And the question of how long he had desired this haunted her.

He squeezed her waist tighter, his hands finding their way beneath the neckline of her emerald, suede dress. He unabashedly groped her thighs, lightly pressing his claws against her skin but not scratching her. His fingers almost reached her undergarments. Tav felt like everything was happening too fast. Did he assume she should just surrender to him at his first demand? Tav hadn't shared a bed with anyone since her breakup with Gale (ah, his ex and ambitions), but she hadn't lost all shreds of dignity. If she hadn't earned even a drop of respect from Rolan, then she didn't know how to earn it at all.

Finally, she pulled away from his kisses with effort, breathing heavily, and said:

"You know, Rolan, usually before diving under a woman's skirt, people say at least a few words. What's gotten into you?"

"Hmm, I thought after last night, we wouldn't need words."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Tav backed away slightly and looked at him incredulously.

"Pff... Really? You decided to pretend like nothing happened, huh? Did you really decide to laugh at me? - He looked at her incinerating, with a deep sigh. - How did I not realize it immediately. Oh, bloody people..." He instantly became agitated and stepped aside, his face changing, reminiscent of the time when, long ago, in the grove, he yelled at Lia.

"How did I not realize it immediately... Why like this, Tav... Did you decide to use me as your silly toy!? You can't just show up in the middle of the night and... make me think I mean something to you, and then just use me. Nobody! Damn it! Nobody deserves that kind of treatment!!! Have the guts to say to my face that last night was just a one-night stand!"

"You know what? You bastard!" Tav boiled over and raised her voice. How dare he talk to her like that? Especially since she really had no idea what he was talking about. "Last night!? We didn't even see each other, you son of a bitch, yesterday. I spent the ENTIRE day with Kal and Lia, we had breakfast, walked in Bloomridge Park, arranged books on the second tier, in the evening I gossiped with Lia about Alphir and Lacrisse, and then I went to sleep! And I have no idea what the damn master of Ramazit's tower was up to. Honestly, damn you, it would have been better if it stayed that way! And on top of everything, it was you who groped me as if nothing had happened!" Tav finished,

"Now you decide to make a fool out of me?" He met her gaze, and an indescribable sorrow shone in his eyes.

Tav adjusted her dress, grabbed Rolan's shoulder sharply, and under her confident hand, he quieted for a moment. If the bastard had lost all sense, she would have to act. She opened the doors he had locked. Right in front of the threshold stood Lia and Kal. So close that you could hear their breathing. Half an hour ago, they were busy with descriptions on this tier, and now... Of course, they were eavesdropping, ever since they heard the screams.

Caught, they remained silent. Everyone seemed to be waiting for someone to speak first. It was like waiting for the verdict in court. But now, in this absurd tangled situation, delivering a verdict could be postponed.

"To your brother and sister, I hope you still trust?" Tav glanced briefly at Rolan and then stared back at the troublemakers. "Both of you, please tell us what happened yesterday. In order."

Dumbfounded, they merely repeated everything Tav had already told.

"Wait, what are you trying to say?"

"Rolan, I really have no idea who you were with yesterday and what happened there, but I know for sure that whatever it was, it WASN'T ME!"

Rolan squeezed her hand and led her back. Closing the balcony, he sharply shushed his brother and sister and slammed the door loudly so they wouldn't eavesdrop anymore. Now he paced nervously from side to side, putting a finger to his lips.

"I don't understand, to be more precise, I'm completely confused."

"Just tell me what happened. Let's try to figure this out." Seeing Rolan completely bewildered, Tav cooled down a bit, realizing he was sincere.

"It's incomprehensible." He raised his hand up so that his beautiful long claws pierced the air. "Well. I was working in Sorcerous Sundries, nothing special, but I was more tired than usual, decided to skip dinner, I knew if you needed me, you would have called, but no one bothered. In the evening, I went to my room, and I was already lying on the bed, reading my notes. Suddenly, there was a knock. I opened it, and it was... well... you.”

"Speak."

"Next, you, I mean, it looked exactly like you. Well, how should I put it, um... hm..."

"Well, what?!" Tav was already beginning to suspect what could have robbed the master of Ramazit's tower of all eloquence. It was evident from what he had done to her just a couple of minutes ago.

"Well, you jumped on me."

"Jumped? What do you mean, Rolan? Damn it, just tell me how it all happened."

"Phew," there was something like a muffled snort. "When I opened the door, you offered me to become something more from the doorstep. You said... Well... Different things. Started kissing me. And then... uh..." At that moment, Rolan could easily have taken first place in the contest for "The Reddest Tiefling in all of Faerûn."

"Stop. What? You mean, you... You fucked my "form"?!" Tav was indignant, either from the speed of his decision-making, or from the fact that they had been used so easily (after all, she had personally taught him to detect illusions and enchantment schools), or from the fact that everything didn't work out for her. Just think, she could have just shown up at his place in the middle of the night, and all that arrogance of his would have disappeared in an instant.

"What? No, I, we, I mean, you... um... not exactly."

"What???"

A deep sigh from Rolan. "Let's not talk about it."

What's there to tell, that pathetic copy lured him, attracted him, and enchanted him, pulled him between her thighs and entertained herself with his tongue as much as she could. Afterward, he fell asleep like a dead man, and she vanished. And that would be the most modest interpretation of events. But how could he tell Tav about it, I mean, the real Tav. Moreover, now he realized that back then it really wasn't her, no, her body, but something in the look, behavior, way of speaking, was different. He felt a sense of guilt, how easily he was deceived, how fooled he was.

"And then? Anything else? Was there anything strange or was it just... um."

Now Rolan realized the full scale of what was happening, and anxiety gripped him. Someone had fooled him, an archmage, in his own home. This someone possessed knowledge of his vulnerabilities and could manipulate them with incredible precision. His only weak points - his loved ones, his family. His brother and sister, who were infinitely dear to him, might now be in danger, who knows what the criminal had in mind else. And, of course, his dear Tav, who had become so dear to his heart (although he was ashamed to admit it to himself). With whom he tried to be careful and cautious. The one who took so many risks for him, and now taught him magic. He regretted how unfairly he had treated her in the past, and now it was all repeating. "Oh, Tav.”

"Fool, what a fool!" Rolan shouts, slumping. "I pounced on you like a dirty animal, I didn't even listen to what you were saying, and then I yelled at you. Damn it! Why didn't you push me away right away?" He was filled with regret.

The lump stuck in her throat. "Just... Let's not talk about it," she said, shyly lowering her gaze. Of course, now he understood everything too. Now he knew for sure that she wanted him too. Oh, not like this, she had never imagined this moment like this. And this moment was torn away and spoiled by some creature, daring to steal her appearance. Hers, whose huge statue adorned nearby. Hers, the savior of Baldur's Gate, the legend of the Sword Coast. And if for someone it wasn't enough of an argument that they should never, (never!) cross her path, then she intended to convey that personally.

She changed the subject and continued:

"Do you have anything else to add?" Tav, observing Rolan attentively, asked. "Okay. Let's think about what it could have been. Something was able to assume my form, but it wasn't me, so it wasn't hypnosis. Perhaps some creature or magic. Was there anything else suspicious?" Tav was determined to punish these villains, whoever they were, no matter how difficult they might be to find, and whatever they might think of themselves.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Hi, could you do an NSFW for a sub male reader with Ayaka and Kokomi? I’m curious to see how the situation would play out when the roles are reversed :P

Kokomi & Ayaka x Sub!Male!Reader headcanons

A/N: Hi Anon! I didn't know how to bite into this request at first, but I decided on making a headcanon-like format. Sorry if this is a little chaotic because of that. Anyway, enjoy!

CW: Bondage, Male!Reader.

NSFW under the cut.

Kamisato Ayaka

Ayaka is a very gentle dom, which comes from her naturally shy nature. 

Constantly asks you if what she's doing is okay with you until she learns your preferences.

She's not really into hard domination, like using honorifics. She feels like calling her anything other than her name (endearments aren't allowed for subs) puts uncomfortable distance between you. 

Ayaka isn't into real bondage. The most she's going to do is tie your hands behind your back with a hairband or some silk ropes. 

Because it's not seeing you tied and vulnerable that gets her going - it's the knowledge that you do it willingly. 

She knows that, at any point, you could break the bindings, lift her up and take revenge for all that pussy rubbing and teasing she does. Yet you don't. And that's what's hot in it for Ayaka. 

Despite being the sub, you'll be the top in bed most of the time, because Ayaka likes being the bottom. But still, you'll have a nice collar or some soft rope around your cock, or even better - lightly stretching your sack. Just so you don't forget who's really in charge. 

She'll mark you outside of bed as well. You'll get luxurious clothing and jewelry, all containing some rendition of the Kamisato crest so everyone can see who you belong to. 

After some decent time, you'll get to see Ayaka's '"evil'" side. All of her life she had been jealous of other couples, and now that she has you, she's going to give everyone a taste of their own medicine. The clothes you'll wear will be custom made. More often than not the garderobe she picks for you reveals even a small part of your chest. All of this to make other girls jealous of Ayaka's 'snack'. 

Expect any trousers she'll get you to be a little on the tighter side. Not too tight, but small enough to make your bulge more visible. 

Ayaka will also make sure to hold your hand, so others know you're already taken. 

She loves you, and would like to show it by appreciating your whole body. She can do that now, since you're unwilling unable to resist. 

Expect three-hour long baths with Ayaka constantly hovering over you. She is the dominant here, so it's her duty to keep her little pet nice and clean. Also, it's a great opportunity to touch every single inch of your skin. 

She'll gently wash your hair, clean you up and down with a sponge, clip your nails and shave both your face and your cock to her own liking. 

These procedures could be done by you or any of her servants, but nothing gives her more pleasure than getting to take care of you. 

This lasts so long because poor Ayaka gets distracted two or three times during it. You're just so irresistible…

Sangonomiya Kokomi

Kokomi is the leader of Watatsumi, and the commander of its army. She has a lot of men under her command, willing to give or do anything for her. But having one of them, especially someone as special as you, to do with as she pleases is entirely something else. 

She prefers to be the bottom, as she likes being the one to lie back as you think for her. But if you like being bottom, she'll oblige. 

Don't expect your relationship outside of sexy time to change. Kokomi puts quite a thick wall between the two. 

Since she has power over you, it’s obvious she’ll make a few rules. 

Expect to lose the right to wear a shirt when you’re at home. Your chest, stomach and back, be they muscular or not, are her favorite eye candies. And if you spend a day inside together, the privilege of having clothes will be completely revoked. 

Good luck trying to do anything requiring more than an hour in that predicament. Kokomi reserved herself the right to use you whenever she wants, and she is willing to act on that. 

You’ll be cooking something, and suddenly you’ll feel a pair of hands roaming around your stomach under the apron, and a soft pair of lips on your back. 

Most of the time, you’ll have vanilla sex with Kokomi on top, doing most of the work and setting the pace. 

There are, obviously, times when she’s feeling a little kinkier. 

Kokomi loves the noises you make. She doesn’t get a lot of them during standard sessions of bouncing up and down your cock, and the priestess feels it’s a real shame. Nobody makes cuter sounds than you.

You’ll be on a first name basis with handcuffs. As your hands will be tied behind your back, you’ll become Kokomi’s instrument. 

Her tools? A bullet vibe and some lube.

God she gets so wet at your whines and moans as the vibrator buzzes away at your cock head. She loves how you cry when she pulls it away, just in time to avoid a cum leakage. 

Until Kokomi’s ears are pleased, there’s no cumming for you. And that can be a very, very long time.

If she’s not in the mood, but still wants to enjoy your body, she’ll grab some rope and tie you up very nicely. Shibari is quite the kink for her.

If you see no problem with that, Kokomi will snap a few pictures of your bound and gagged form. Don’t worry - they’ll end up only in her personal little album, to go through when you’re away.

Thanks for reading!

[racfoam]

be proud ch 1 NSFW graveyard scene what-if snippet

I spent 8 hours wracking my brain around this and I’m still not satisfied with it. Let me know in the replies how it is. Also, should I add it into chapter 2 but change the surrounding? 🤔

Notes: Harry is paralyzed for the entirety of this scene. Some things are deliberately kept vague because Harry is emotionally exhausted and has a sort of shutdown.

Warnings: Underage, Non-Con, Smut, Explicit Content, Improper Use of the Soul Bond

Voldemort readjusted Harry’s thighs in his hands, the sharp nails of his fingers digging into Harry’s skin. Harry whimpered at the press of them, deep and rough, tearing the barrier of cloth of the trousers, leaving crescent marks on her skin. No barrier seemed good enough now. It all turned into feeble shields that shattered upon the slightest touch of his fingers. 

Upon the discomforting sound, the grip softened, skeletal fingers spreading over the flesh, holding. The pads of his fingers started rubbing soothing circles on the places where they dug too deep.

Voldemort sighed, sounding in a deep state of bliss. The hands trailed up her legs, trailing up, over the shape of her hips. The touch left sunlight in its wake.

Harry whimpered. 

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to the side of her right cheek. His right hand dipped under her shirt, landing flat on Harry’s lower back. The coldness of it sent a surprised jolt over Harry. Another sob shook her body. She was so drained that she barely noticed it sliding up, the fingers gliding along her spine.

It felt like being in a trance. 

Teeth grazed at the skin of her earlobe. A hot, velvet tongue momentarily flicked out, gliding over the shell of Harry’s ear, trailing saliva, wet like poison. Harry could do nothing except take it.

The coil of fear inside her stomach was soothed and comforted by the soul bond until the cram was all but gone. The quickened heart rate was slowing down. The terrified heart melted into the embrace of comfort, calming down. 

“That’s it, Harry,” whispered Voldemort, caressing her ear with his voice. “Relax.”

Gold rushed through her blood. Something inside of Harry’s core clenched, liquified, and she felt a pulse of her heartbeat between her thighs.

Voldemort must have felt the pulse, the stutter of the mound pressed against his stomach, because the grip of his hands tightened on Harry’s back and right thigh. 

“Harry,” he hissed, dark, wanton and deep. It resounded all across Harry’s body, sending shivers down to her toes, hanging uselessly down his lower back. 

The hand on the back pulled her closer, pressing Harry’s pelvis tighter to his stomach.  The kisses turned open-mouthed, trailing down Harry’s throat, hot, touching vigorously. Teeth grazed at the skin of her neck, causing another shiver. Biting down, they dug gently — firmly — into the flesh. Then, the tongue glided over the indent shaped in the form of his teeth, soothing the little hurt away with its warmth.

Shudders juddered down Harry’s spine, heat flushing her face, and she was very glad her chin was laid on his shoulder, that he wasn’t looking at her with his piercing, red eyes. The mouth wrapped around the skin and sucked.

Harry whimpered.

It was the biggest mistake of her life.

Without warning, Harry’s back pressed against a hard, old stone. There was nowhere to go now. Fingers grasped her cheeks, dragged her unmoving head up. Momentarily, Harry made eye-contact with the cat-like, red eyes, simmering with hunger, want and fascination before the serpentine face closed the distance between their mouths. A mouth covered hers, the same velvet tongue slipping past her parted lips into the cavern of her mouth. 

Harry thought she went blind, breathing out as Voldemort kissed her. It felt like molten lava, like she was touching a star, bathing in sunlight. All Harry could feel was the sense of belonging, safety, and the strange electricity tingling everywhere Voldemort touched, flooding with the warmth of gentle sunlight. 

Somehow, Harry couldn’t process what was happening. She was incapable of feeling any emotion, having been dragged through each one in the last hour. Moving was impossible. Disgust burned inside her stomach.

Voldemort parted, nudged Harry’s head back to land atop his right shoulder, and continued kissing her neck, every inch of it, his kisses like melting snowflakes.

“Mine,” he whispered, hissing, sibilant, possessive, tightening his hold on her until it felt he would break her bones under his fingers. “You’re mine.”

The right hand slid down, out from her shirt, and Harry would have cried in relief was the hand now not sliding down her arse, four long fingers extending over the land of clothed skin before squeezing tight, and the thumb delving between her legs and pressing firm over the outline of her —

Voldemort distracted Harry with a kiss to the throat. It didn’t help. Harry felt violently ill. Suddenly, that lone finger was all Harry could feel, front to back, its end pressing against the clothed little flesh of muscle with nerves that was suddenly the most dangerous weapon against her.

Then, it started moving. Brushing against the clothed folds protected by two layers of thin fabric. Rubbing between them. Sending something unknown and pleasant to that same spot. A continous attention, an increasing burning, the length of his thumb rubbing tight across the trousers, over and over, and over again. 

The long thumb kept brushing between her thighs, up and down, up and down, gliding, pressing firmly into the thin barrier of her trousers and knickers. 

Voldemort sighed against Harry’s shoulder. He retracted his thumb and fingers, sliding his hand over Harry’s waist instead, pressing her harder into the stone.

“Do you remember, Harriet?” asked Voldemort, fingers and voice caressing reverently, preciously. “What I told you I would do once I have my body again?”

Harry’s heart beat in her ears, pounding a painful tattoo.

“I will have you,” he hisses, the promise coming back to shake the very core of Harry’s trembling body and heart. 

Voldemort pulled Harry lower, her pelvis sliding down his stomach. Lower. Lower. Lower. A short descent, but no less important.

Now, Harry’s pelvis was snug around his waist. Suddenly, Harry realized why Voldemort had kept her pelvis pressed flush to his stomach instead of his hips.

Something protruded beneath the cloth of Voldemort’s thin, black robe. Harry knew it because she felt it, pressing intimately against her pelvis, hard, upright and stiff.

Harry’s legs went numb.

It didn’t matter that they were both clothed. Voldemort made due with that, unbothered by the fabric between them. There were worse obstacles Voldemort conquered to hold Harry in his arms and taste her lips. 

All to fill his promise to her.

Then, a small rock of hips between the fleshy folds of tissue, the drag of him throbbing, powerful, across the clit, the inner skin folds. A thrilling surge shot between her thighs. Something inside her melted at the press of him, and everything up until that moment failed in comparison. 

Harry gasped into his neck.

Voldemort bucks into Harry, grabs her waist tight, and starts moving, repeating the motion, over and over again, sliding from the clit to the end, retreating the same path, thrusting forward and backward. It isn’t the entire length of him, which Harry is grateful for. 

Voldemort continued moving, a rhythm of his hips that Harry doesn’t follow. 

Voldemort continued grinding against Harry. He kept Harry safe and tucked into him, squeezing her tight and flush as he moved, stimulating more heat and friction with every stroke.

The lipless mouth hover over Harry’s lips, the red eyes pierce into her soul, half-lidded with desire, and he breathes a cold breath on the surface  before he delivers another roll of his hips, sensual and slow.

Harry closes her eyes and waits for him to be done, endures his kisses and his bites, and his tongue, trailing down her neck as he murmurs during the movement of his hips, pressing into her own, “My Harry, mine, mine.” and when Harry whimpers, he shushes her softly, the hiss resounding across her ear. “Shh, Harry. We’re almost done, darling.”

The almost done feels like another lie, because no matter how still Harry stays, no matter how she endures everything, grateful for the cloth of his robe and cursing the soft fabric of her pants, it feels like it takes forever before Voldemort hisses, “Yesss, yess…” and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder, grunting louder, a guttural sound of a monster taking his prize, the rebirthed taking his gift. “Harry, Harry…”

The thrusts become uneven, hard, fast, and then he pumps a few more times, shivers and throbs between her legs, his fingers digging bruises from the deep hold on Harry’s skin, the fabric of his cloak suddenly damp.

His hot breath fans against her neck, and he continues holding her, hip to hip, breasts to chest, as he softens against her.

Harry breathes. In, out, in, out.

Voldemort readjusts Harry, relocating his hands back on her spine and under the upper thigh of her right leg.

Harry sniffles, but refuses to release another sound not to trigger Voldemort to start comforting her again. 

After a few moments, Voldemort laughs. It is a warm, delighted sound. He sounds happy, pleased.

He kisses Harry on the cheek again, smiling all the while, and squeezes her close to him.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Oh hey what if you wrote anaroceit with one of them(extra love if its janus) having a bad day and so they cuddle and take a nap together?

Fit For Kings

----

Janus is stressed out and overwhelmed by a discussion that quickly devolves into arguing, Roman sets about helping him - and Virgil too - out in the most extravagant and perfect way possible.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: one or two suggestive comments (if there's anything i should add please lmk)

Pairings: Anaroceit

Word count: 1596

Notes: Thank youuu for the prompt!! This was really fun to write and really got me back into the spirit I think, if anyone else wants to send me fluff prompts (or... any prompts at all) please hmu :D

I really hope this is good! haha, enjoy!

----

If they were just going to ignore him, Janus thought, then there wasn’t much point in him being there.

So he left, sank out back to his room without a word, flung his capelet and bowler hat unceremoniously onto a chair and snapped his fingers. His outfit, while so familiar, had become too hot, too itchy and almost outright unbearable as the conversation had gone on. It changed into a far too large black and purple sweater he had stolen from Virgil at some point and looser, more comfortable trousers too. He’d crawled helplessly onto his bed and wrapped himself tight in a blanket he had stolen from Roman’s room because he was - as Remus described him - a thieving little goblin and rocked gently back and forth in his little ball. 

It was okay, it would be fine. It wasn’t like this was a super important issue that could hurt Thomas’ mental health even more if it wasn’t sorted right. It wasn’t like Patton and Logan kept advocating against him because despite his ‘acceptance’ they still thought he couldn’t suggest anything helpful. 

So they were arguing with Roman who - while he was on his side and Janus was eternally grateful for that - didn’t exactly know the ins and outs of the situation, it not really being his department. And Virgil had already been having a bad anxiety day and left earlier in the discussion because arguing with Patton got so repetitive and frustrating and - well Janus wasn’t even sure how he himself had lasted so long.

And not to mention Remus had been there, which wasn’t… the most helpful, with the circumstances. He’d been riling up both Patton and Roman, and freaking Virgil out as he did so and honestly no wonder Virgil left when he did. Janus wanted to summon him, since everyone else was probably still arguing, but… he couldn’t deny that he felt a little bad about doing so when Virgil wasn’t faring well himself.

Maybe… less of a summoning, more of a gentle tug? Just to… let Virgil know he could come if he wanted to? But if he didn’t want to come, would he feel guilty and come anyway? But-

Whatever, he’d probably summon Virgil anyway if he started overthinking it too much. He sighed, closing his eyes and gently tugging on the mental string that kept them all connected as sides, whispering Virgil’s name down the bond before closing his eyes and burrowing into the blanket that he kept himself wrapped in. 

“Jan?” Virgil’s voice said, his head immediately popped up from the blanket to find Virgil standing next to his bed, “You okay? You called…”

Janus shrugged, reaching a hand out of his blanket cocoon for Virgil, who took it only to be pulled closer onto the bed. He yelped in surprise, before sitting up properly and moving closer until Janus could wrap the blanket around him too. 

For a moment, Virgil just wrapped his arms around Janus and nuzzled his face into his shoulder. Janus smiled, finally relaxing a little as he buried his nose in Virgil’s hair. Soft and fluffy as it always was. 

“Where’s Ro?” Virgil murmured. 

“Totally not still stuck with the others,” Janus whispered back, feeling as though he would break something fragile if he spoke any louder. He felt Virgil frown against his shoulder and pulled the blanket tighter around them both.

“Did it get too much for you too?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said, “That’s why I’m still up there.”

Virgil chuckled and Janus thought that a win as the corner of his own lips tugged itself up into a small smile without him trying. 

“Is this his blanket?” Virgil asked after another moment of tense but comfortable silence. 

“What? No- definitely not - I’m no thief,” Janus denied reflexively. Telling the truth was always so much harder when he was overwhelmed. 

“And I suppose you’re no liar either?” Virgil asked with a small giggle, before gently tugging at the hoodie he was wearing, “Because this is definitely my hoodie.”

“You must be mistaken, Virgil,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “Because this is my hoodie, always has been.”

“Of course of course,” Virgil rolled his eyes, “That totally explains why you give it back to me after it’s been washed and then steal it again, every single time.”

“It- it stops smelling like you when it gets washed.” Janus said, cheeks flaming, he didn’t realise Virgil had noticed!

“It’s ok,” Virgil said, smirking and squeezing him a little tighter for a moment, “I know you’re a little schemer, I think it’s cute.”

“Shut it,” Janus huffed, “I’m not cute.”

“But you still called me because you were sad and wanted cuddles?” Virgil said, “and you built a nest on your bed of stuff you stole from us?”

“Only comfy things,” Janus protested, as if that would help. Virgil snorted. 

“You’re not denying the rest though?”

“I deny everything.” Janus said, pressing his scaled cheek to Virgil’s hair. 

“D’you think Roman will come join us when he wins the argument?”

“What makes you so sure he’ll win?” Janus asked.

“Cause he’s Roman?” Virgil said as though it was obvious, “and he’s arguing your point, which was right, by the way, sorry I wasn’t more helpful, but he’ll win.”

“I’m glad you’re so confident in me, Virgil,” Said Roman, coming in through the door that very second, “And you’ll both be glad to know that I did, in fact, win the argument.”

“Hurrah,” Virgil said, raising a fist, Janus breathed a quiet side of relief, so they’d been able to avoid the mental health bullet in the end, “Join us?”

Roman grinned, not moving closer, “I would love to, dearest Stormcloud, but I have a better idea.”

“What could be better than cuddles in a blanket nest?”

“How about,” Roman said with a grin, “A luxury castle break for three?”

“Benifits of moving from this very comfortable cocoon being?” Janus asked, “C’mon Ro, advertise.”

Laughing, Roman walked over and sat down just a little ways away from them, “Onsite sauna, a banquet for just the three of us with anything you could possibly want, the comfiest beds, fit for kings, grand clothes, a guarantee than no-one will bother us until we choose to come back-”

Roman wiggled his eyebrows and Virgil found out that he was just out of punching range from their blanket cocoon.

“You had me at sauna,” Janus huffed, reluctantly peeling himself away from Virgil’s side, “Can I bring this blanket?”

“I certainly have enough blankets there-”

“I’m aware, I totally don’t want this one specifically.” Janus huffed, holding onto it a little tighter. Virgil chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek before scooting over to whisper something to Roman, who’s eyebrows shot up before he went bright red and ducked his head with a smile on his face. 

“Sorry, sorry, you can keep that blanket,” Roman said, clearly trying not to laugh, “Promise, now, c’mon, we’ve got a palace waiting for us!”

“I can’t walk,” Janus said, flopping back onto the bed, “Whatever will we do?”

“Well I suppose the only solution would be to take Virgil and leave you here by yourself-” Roman said, putting a finger to his chin as though he was pondering the issue. Virgil rolled his eyes and scooped Janus off of the bed, tossing him over his shoulder as though he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. 

“Ah- hey!” Janus yelped as Roman picked up the blanket that had been left on the bed and gently draped it over him. Virgil laughed and patted his back gently. 

“This is what you get for trying to be slick.” Virgil said, before nodding to Roman, “Will you do the honours, my Prince?”

Despite the blush that once again overtook Roman’s face at the nickname, he stepped forward and put both hands on Virgil’s other arm, sinking the three of them out to the imagination together.

—-

Virgil put Janus down once they’d sank out, and Roman gently ushered them through the massive palace gateway. 

They’d gone to the sauna, taken a dip in the bath that looked more like a pool to Janus, with beautifully fancy tiled floors and modled golden faucets and so much bubblebath, afterwards they’d gone to the banquet hall to dine on a feast fit for kings. Janus almost forgot the upset from before, as Roman hand fed him chunks of some bread that tasted perfect - still soft and warm - and Virgil giggled as he drank soup straight from the bowl. He couldn’t help but think about how Roman had done such a brilliant job of distracting them and providing relaxation for all three of them, himself included. 

Something he definitely wouldn’t lie about was the way it made him want to kiss both his partners silly and he did just that the moment Roman brought them up to what may have been the most elegantly decorated bedroom he had ever seen. When they had later collapsed onto the fluffiest, most comfortable bed Janus had ever had the pleasure of lying in, both of his partners around him, cuddling each other tightly and Roman’s blanket from back in Janus’ room covering them along with heavy duvets that seemed to radiate the most comfortable warmth…

As he closed his eyes, Janus found he had forgotten entirely about the issue from before. Now as he drifted off to sleep alongside the sounds of their breathing, he felt nothing but safe and warm and happy as can be.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[charlottesbookclub]

Clean (General Armitage Hux)

Summary: Armitage has a particularly rough day and takes a depression shower about it

Warnings/Tags: Hux-centric (no pairing), angst, stress, memories of child abuse, Hux works too much, did I mention angst?, body image issues, insecurities, maybe just very slight SH implications?, ANGST (let me know if I missed anything!)

Words: 1,162

Author’s Note: apparently I'm on a roll with producing Hux content recently! This is just a short little fic building off a headcanon I wrote about in this post. It's an idea I've had for a while and just finally wrote it down. Hope you all enjoy even tho it's super frickin angsty and kinda sad!

(oh and the lines from Br*ndol are from the Hux comic and I think Empire's End?)

            The faint beep his door emitted as it recognized his credentials and zipped open for him sounded almost heavenly to Armitage. He barely made it into his chambers before he collapsed back against the now-closed door, sliding down until he was seated on the floor. He rested his arms on his bent-up knees, folding himself down as small as was possible given his height. There was a strange tightness in his throat, and not the kind caused by the unseeable grip of the damned Force. The passing thought of that frivolous magic snapped him back to himself, and he pushed up off of the floor in one fluid movement, knowing that if he slowed or hesitated at all, his exhausted body would decide that he would be sleeping unceremoniously slumped against his door.

            It had been a long cycle. Or was it two cycles? How long had it been since he had last rested? He shook his head minutely, trying to clear the fog of weariness that had finally allowed itself to settle in his mind. His chambers were dark except for the pale light of the stars creeping in through the large windows. He didn’t bother turning a light on. Instead, he made his way slowly to the refresher, discarding items of clothing one by one, each seeming to represent a problem that he wished he could cast off as easily as his uniform.

            First, the gloves – Ren destroying another expensive control panel. Greatcoat next – an unfortunate meeting with Snoke that left his project on a much tighter timeline than he had originally planned. One boot kicked to the side, then the other – the knowing glances cast between former Imperial officers on the bridge, sharing some joke he wasn’t privy to. His uniform top – the endless forms needing his approval and signature. The light undershirt next – the constant pinging of his comlink and datapad with requests for his time. Then his trousers – useless meetings with more insufferable Imperial veterans who just wanted to feel as though they were still valuable by giving outdated advice. Finally, his undergarments and socks – the biting headache that has been festering behind his eyes for the past… well… however many cycles it had been.

            Hux reached the refresher and didn’t bother to turn that light on either. Instead, he stepped directly into the dark-tiled shower and turned the hot water to its full capacity. Normally, he limited himself to cold showers. He felt they were more effective at waking him up – or, more often than not, freshening him up since actual sleep was something of a rarity for the general. Either way, despite the fact that his rank gave him unlimited access to hot water, he rarely indulged in the luxury. Right now though, it was what he needed more than anything.

            Steam filled the refresher, indicating that the water had reached a suitable temperature, and Armitage stepped under the current, nearly gasping at the shocking heat. For a moment, he could think of nothing else but the nearly unbearable warmth of the water as it coursed over his skin. When he had gotten somewhat habituated to the temperature on his body, he dipped his head into the stream and hissed as the water cut almost-scalding rivulets through his hair. After a few moments of exposure, his body became desensitized to the intense heat. He was left with a welcome warmth seeping into every fiber of his being. He began releasing tension he wasn’t even conscious of as the hot water unspooled it from his coiled muscles. His pristinely coiffed hair was soaked into damp strands, the gel dissolving and relinquishing its hold on his orange locks. For a few glorious moments, his mind was blissfully blank. He thought of nothing, simply absorbing the sensation of the hot water against his skin in the dark shower.

            They always crept back in though – the voices, the thoughts. What a waste of resources. How frivolous. How useless. Hux gritted his teeth then, hearing his father’s despised voice ring in his ears: “I’ve yet to find anything that Armitage isn’t utterly useless at.” He was glad he couldn’t make out much of his body in the steam-filled darkness of the refresher. He knew his pale skin was turning a humiliating shade of pink – both from the heat and from the unwanted memories. And he was thin. Scrawny. “Thin as a slip of paper and just as useless.” Armitage pressed his fist against the cool wall of the shower, putting enough force behind it that his knuckles began to hurt. Anything to drive his father’s words from his mind. As the insults and memories faded, Hux heaved a sigh. He exchanged his fist against the tile for his forehead, the press of the cold black stone bringing him back to reality. Despite his face no longer being under the current of water, he nevertheless felt warm liquid slipping down his cheeks. He scrubbed at his face with his hand, assuring himself it was nothing but beads of condensation, and situated himself back under the stream.

            He allowed himself just a few more fleeting moments under the warm water, trying to let it sap the last of the stress from his body, even though he wasn’t sure that was even possible at this point. Tension had settled deep into his bones and made itself at home there, untouchable even by the calming hands of heat that spilled over his body. Before he lost his nerve and stayed in the shower for the rest of eternity, he snapped the water off and was left suddenly shivering as the cool air of the refresher began to prick his skin. Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped himself in a robe. He caught a quick glance in the mirror, but any glimpse of his body was mercifully obscured by both the darkness and the steam collected on the reflective surface. He didn’t want to be reminded of his weak constitution now, not when he had only just banished his father’s unwelcome words.

            He stepped back out into the main room of his quarters, letting the pale starlight guide him as he inched his way carefully along the trail of discarded clothing items, collecting them as he went. On his way to his bed, he placed each in their assigned places: uniform and undergarments in the chute that connected directly to the ship’s central laundry facility, greatcoat carefully arranged on a hanger in his sparse closet, boots lined up neatly next to the door. That done, Armitage allowed himself to sink into bed, pulling the covers over his chilled body. He was almost ready to give into his aching head and sore body, to just allow himself to fall into the oblivion of sleep. Then a shrill ping interrupted that futile dream. He rolled over, pulling his datapad into bed with him to check the notification. He could always rest after responding to this message.

[poledancingdinos]

Where We Love It Never Gets Dark - Chapter 24

Pairing: Alpha!Eskel x Omega!OFC

Word count: 2423

Warnings: Discussion of past parental abuse

Catch up: Series Masterlist​​​

Masterlist

Eskel broke through a wall of trees, the Gniewek house coming into view, and was relieved to see a familiar bay mare grazing in the field. Not far away stood Eryk, brushing down Dahlia with the same attention his sister gave her beloved companion.

He whistled low and strong, hoping he could be heard from within the house. Sure enough, Geralt came crashing through the back door, Jaskier hot on his tail. When Eryk lifted his head, his legs gave out from under him, sending him falling to his knees. He covered his mouth with one hand, holding in his relieved sobs. 

After their last stop, Eskel had kept a wool blanket draped over Rebekah’s shoulders and now wrapped it tighter around her frame as the two other men approached. Eskel pulled Scorpion to a stop and Geralt immediately moved to help lower the omega. 

“I’ve got her,” he said once he fully supported her weight. He made sure to readjust the blanket, obscuring her body from any prying eyes. From the smell alone it was painfully clear to the white-haired witcher that she had a fair few wounds and that she was plunging deeper into heat with every passing moment.

“Are you hurt?” he asked his brother.

“‘M fine,” Eskel grunted as he stumbled down from his mount. He hadn’t eaten or slept since learning of Rebekah’s disappearance, too desperate in his search of fast transport to Lettenhove.

Jaskier took the reins from him, quickly walking towards the family stables to provide food and water to the tired animal looking to be in an equally dreadful state as its owner. Eskel immediately sought to take Rebekah back from Geralt’s hold, but the other witcher stopped him.

“I can carry her in. You need to wash up and change your clothes then you should discuss with her brother which room would be best to use for a heat.”

The shock had obviously subsided and Eryk was now by their side as they entered the home.

“There’s a larger room on the second floor that was meant for ruts.”

“I doubt very much that you wish for her to smell everything you’ve done in there in the past,” Eskel grumbled. “Is there a room that your father has never entered? We’ll move a bed into a pantry if that’s what it takes but I do not want her to smell him anywhere near her.”

“You may use her old bedchamber,” Lukasz spoke from the base of the staircase. He didn’t look at any of them, his eyes fixed on his sister’s unconscious form. Until that moment, despite what everyone claimed, he hadn’t yet truly believed that she still lived. “Eryk is the only one who’s entered it after our father burned all of her belongings.”

“The bed is old and small but it’ll hold the both of you,” Eryk added. “Lukasz and I will see about finding you clean linens.” He pushed past the witchers and ran up the steps two at a time with Lukasz in tow.

“How much blood did you spill?” Geralt asked when he was sure they were out of earshot.

“Enough,” Eskel grunted, peeling his chemise off his back. He hadn’t noticed the cuffs of his sleeves were caked in dried blood. He looked down at his trousers, which still had the stains of Rebekah’s earlier release and dark brown patches where her father’s blood had soaked the fabric as he knelt over him, plunging the blade in his abdomen.

Geralt set Rebekah down on the lounge, moving to pull some clean breeches and a chemise from his own pack before handing them to Eskel. They would need to gather a wash basin and some soap to clean the blood from his skin and nails but a proper bath would have to wait until later.

“There’s only so much Jaskier’s family can do for us. No matter what her father has done he can’t ask them to condone the massacre of multiple well-respected members of Redanian nobility… especially not by a witcher.”

“I don’t need them to spare me.” Eskel stepped closer to his omega now that he had finished dressing. “I only need them to delay my sentence until she pulls through her heat and I can see her off safely.”

Rebekah began to stir, whimpering in her unconscious state. Eskel gently stroked her hair, studying her scent for signs of another spike in her heat.

“I will not stand by as you let yourself be executed without a fight.” Geralt crossed his arms to keep from putting his hands on his brother. He wanted to slap some sense into the alpha but it wouldn’t do them any good to wrestle over their disagreement like young trainees. 

“Wouldn’t you accept the same fate for Jaskier?”

“No, absolutely not! I wouldn’t be resolved to allow my mate to mourn my death knowing I didn't do everything in my power to stay by his side!"

Eskel’s jaw clenched tightly, the hand not on Rebekah balling into a fist.

“The people of Lettenhove share tales of the deadly beast that roams their woods. The one who took a local girl and vanished without leaving a trace of itself or its victim.” Eskel shook his head, remembering the conversation in the tavern where he’d acquired the location of the Gniewek home. “They were all terrified that the beast would some day return yet this entire time that ‘beast’ has been right under their noses! ‘Killing monsters’ is that not what you always call it? They should fucking pay me for handing over its head!”

Geralt knelt by Eskel, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Eskel, calm yourself, you’re speaking in tongues. What are you saying?”

“He’s saying there was never any beast, aren’t you? He’s saying her father was the one who attacked her as a child.”

The witchers looked up to find Jaskier standing in the frame of the back door. At the same moment, Lukasz and Eryk reached the bottom of the stairs, freezing at the bard’s words.

“He didn’t only hit the boys, did he? He hit her, too.”

The brothers locked eyes with each other before promptly turning their gaze to the ground in shame.

“You knew? You knew he hurt her and you never told me! You let me leave her here in his care, all alone, thinking she would be safe! Did you even try to protect her?”

Eryk was now crying while Lukasz did his best to maintain his composure.

“Eryk tried though it was never much use. But you have to believe me Julian, we knew nothing of this. We never thought he would go so far as to kill his own child.”

Jaskier lunged at Lukasz but Geralt moved quickly, catching him by the waist and pinning him to his chest.

“Geralt, let me go! Let me go, damn it!” He fought in his mate’s grasp, but it was no use. He was tired and weakened from the last week of worrying and the Witcher was much stronger than he was.

“Jask’er?” The entire room stood still as the feeble voice called out again. “Jask’er ‘s that you?”

Geralt released Jaskier who rushed around the lounge to kneel by Rebekah’s side.

“It’s me, dear.”

Her eyes opened just a crack but as soon as they did her lips pulled into a small smile.

“‘Skel said y’were ‘ll right.”

“I’m perfectly fine, dear, don’t you worry about me.”

She nodded faintly as she began to squirm, the wool blanket feeling like a thousand needles across her skin.

“I will take her up. She needs some privacy.”

“We’ll gather provisions and leave them outside the door.”

Eskel gave Geralt a curt nod. “Thank you, Wolf.” He slid his arms below Rebekah who immediately curled into his chest, bunching the fabric of his shirt in her fists. Her nose pressed firmly to the skin of his neck, taking a deep breath.

“Where’re we?”

“At your family’s estate.” Rebekah tensed in his arms but Eskel’s voice immediately soothed her as he continued to speak. “Shh, don’t be afraid ‘Mega. Your father can no longer hurt you, I made sure of that. The only people here are Eryk, Lukasz, Jaskier and Geralt. No one will touch you.”

“Wha— What ‘bout m’ moth’r?”

Eskel winced, hating that he had to break the news to her in such a manner. “Lukasz said she passed a few summers ago. I am so sorry ‘Mega, this is not how I would have wished to tell you.”

“S’all right. Sh’was never h’ppy ‘nyway.”

Eskel hated that despite her being nothing but a child the last time she saw her mother, she had known how unhappy she had been. It was even more appalling that she had been groomed to behave as her mother had under the assumption that she would be a young omega bride to Jaskier.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Eskel looked down the long corridor, finding that a single door at the far end of the hall was left open. Inside, he found it to be completely empty save for an old bed with a plain wooden frame. Her brothers’ scents faintly lingered in the air, more so Eryk’s than Lukasz’s. The boys hadn’t been gone long enough to have swept the floors or dusted the window sill yet there was not a trace of dirt anywhere in sight. The young alpha had been periodically cleaning the room.

Eskel gently laid Rebekah on the bed, setting the wool blanket aside and shifting her until he could remove his gambeson from her one arm at a time.

When a gentle knock came from the hall, Eskel slipped out of the room, opening the door just enough to pass between it and the frame, making sure his body shielded Rebekah from any prying eyes. Geralt stood alone with a basin of water in his hands. At his feet were a few soft blankets, one of Rebekah’s light robes which she reserved solely for times when the two of them were in the privacy of a shared room, two apples and half a loaf of bread. The fact that Jaskier had thought to bring Rebekah’s belongings from Oxenfurt did not go unnoticed by Eskel but thanking the bard would have to wait.

Eskel must have stayed silent for longer than he realized because the next thing he knew, Geralt was setting the basin down on the ground and pulling him into his embrace. 

“She’s all right Eskel. She’s safe here. There is no longer any need to worry.”

Eskel hugged him back, closing his eyes. “I promised her that he would never harm her again. I failed her.”

“No one could have foreseen this.” Geralt took a step back, holding on to Eskel by his shoulders. “You are not to blame for his actions and you certainly did not fail her in any way.”

Eskel swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as all the emotion he had been pushing down in the last days came boiling to the surface. He moved to run his hand through his hair but stopped when he remembered the blood. He bent down, wetting a rag and rubbing it over his hands. 

“That whoreson is dead yet she is still suffering at his hand. This heat is his doing and there is nothing I can do but sit with her and watch her suffer. I would say that counts as a failure.”

Geralt frowned, his head tilting to the side. “Why the fuck would you watch her suffer? She’s safe here,” he repeated, “you can take care of her. You have four men here that you can trust and who would rather die than let any more harm come to her. If anything, one benefit of her being in heat at the moment is that she will forget everything in the outside world for a few days because her mind will be completely consumed with you and the pleasure you’ll bring her.”

Eskel finished removing the blood, managing to keep the water clean so he wouldn’t have to change it before getting to Rebekah.

“The only thing that would completely take her pain away would be a knot and I have no intention of taking advantage of her in this state.”

Geralt took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he felt a growing frustration towards his fellow witcher. He knelt down, clasping his hands together to keep himself from throwing the basin of water into Eskel’s face.

“Eskel, how many omegas have you partnered through a heat?”

The alpha winced, not wanting to think about his past lovers at that particular moment.

“A dozen maybe? You, others at the Keep and a few whores over the years.”

Geralt nodded. “And how did you know all of us were consenting?” he asked, encouraging him to continue.

“You know how. It was planned beforehand — we’d agreed to it before the preheat had even started.”

“Even with the ones from the brothels?”

“No, at the brothels the omega chose me. The first time, the Madam went to the back room to see which girls were available and when she returned she said that her omega had caught my scent and wanted to offer herself to me. It was someone I’d been with before so I knew she wasn’t uncomfortable or afraid of witchers.”

“So tell me, why were you willing to accept that a prostitute had enough wherewithal to choose you to share her heat but when the omega is your own mate, you see it as taking advantage of her?”

Eskel didn’t answer since doing so would reveal too many of Rebekah’s well guarded secrets about her past.

“And didn’t you once say that you had gotten run out of a town because you had ripped the mayor off his wife while she was in heat after you smelled she did not want him? You can smell consent on a total stranger but not on your own mate?”

Eskel couldn’t find the words to speak. Geralt was right of course but it had never occurred to the alpha to think about any of it so rationally.

“You are letting your insecurities cloud your judgment. Do not let Rebekah pay the price for them. You have already left her waiting long enough.”

The conversation was over and Geralt was headed back to his own mate. With a final sigh, Eskel moved the supplies into the room.

[dr4cking]

Bad Grade.

masterlist taglist

draco malfoy x reader | smut |

warning : professor!draco 🥵 reader is of age! and you can make up draco's age whatever you wanted.

y/n waited nervously in her class, she was early than the others and it makes her sitting alone in the class.

she had exams last week but she didnt really study for it and that was the exact reason why she was nervous today.

if she got a bad grades her parents would make sure to threatened her.

she looked up from her desk as a loud footsteps walking into the class, she found the youngest and the hottest teacher in hogwarts staring at her deeply, a smirk formed onto his face making her gulped.

"morning, miss y/n" she gets goosebumps when she heard his deep voice calling out her name.

"morning professor.." draco’s smirk get wider as he saw her body tremble in her seat, only his voice and she already like that.

"why so tense, miss y/n?"

"nothing, professor.." she replied, staying her gaze on her desk, trying so hard not to look up at him and get herself in more embarrassment.

draco clicked his tongue around his teeth making her turned her head at him instantly.

he raised his eyebrows at her sudden action.

but when he was about to taunt her more, the door burst open by the students filling the class one by one.

>>>>>

"miss y/n." she looks up at her professor as he called her name, her body jolted out at his voice echoed in the room.

"yes, professor?"

"come here, please." she gets up from her seat nervously, all her classmates already interrogating her by their eyes.

"care to explain to me why you get a P for my subject?" she swears she almost passed out at his intonation.

"i- i'm sorry professor, i wasn't study-"

"great, meet me after class, you need to fix your grade" y/n unknowingly rubbed her thighs together when draco said that, she secretly hoped he doesnt noticed that.

but he did and thats why he was trying to hide his smirk.

"yes professor, i'm sorry" she took her test and made her way back to her seat. hell, he's so intimidating.

>>>>>

after the class ended, y/n being the only one who stayed in her seat.

she sighs and stares at draco's back who was still cleaning the board.

"well, which part of my subject that you dont understand, miss y/n?" draco said as he takes a seat in front of her desk, opening her book.

"its the draught of living death potions, professor." she was trying her best to not let her voice getting shaky.

draco nodded and begin to explaining the subject to her, his fingers were pointing at her book.

but all she could think now is about the tension filling the air, and the more she stares at his fingers the dirtier her mind gets.

his hands-

merlin, even his hands are so hot. the veins decorating his arms suited him so much, and his long fingers are the perfect size to reach her spot when they're going inside her cu-

no.

y/n shook her head in disbelief at what she just imagined in her mind not realizing that draco has stopped talking.

"lost in your dirty mind, princess?" draco chuckles as he sees her cheeks heated in embarrassment, his eyes turned dark as he examining her face.

shit.

she forgot he has legilimency.

"i-"

"sshh.. i see you're not as innocent as the others think of you, yeah?" she gulped at his question, her face was flushed as the thick tension filling the room.

"no answer hm? tell me y/n, what is it that you want?" he rose up from his seat moving to stand beside her, looking down at her.

"tell me whats going on inside your dirty mind" he tilted her head to look up at him, his thumb running on her bottom lip making her shuddered.

"i- i want you, professor.." y/n said quietly not be able to look into his eyes much longer.

"want me? for what?"

"i want you burying yourself deep inside me, professor" she slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened at what she just said.

"filthy little thing." draco chuckles lowly before moving down his hand and grabbed her throat.

"earn it." she nodded at him before her hands shakily unbuckled his belt and his trousers letting it falls down to his ankle making draco gripped her throat tighter.

she pulled down his boxers making him hissed when his semi hard cock hitting his lower abdomen.

she quickly wrapped her hands around his length and squeezes him tightly causing him to pull on her hair.

"dont play with me if you dont wanna face the consequences." she nodded before spitting on his cock stroking it with her hand making him groaned.

y/n wasted no time and pulled him all the way in her mouth moaning when his tip hit the back of her throat.

she starts to fucked him in and out of her mouth. her hand pumping on what she couldnt fit in her mouth.

she pulled out for a second to rest her jaw then she swirls her tongue on his slit making him groaned and bucked his hips. she gagged instantly when draco pushed his cock back in her mouth, tired of her teasing.

"you look so fucking filthy, y/n. sucking your professor's cock now, hm?" she let out a moan to answer him making him whimpered at the vibrations.

one of her hands gripping on the back of his thigh pushing him deeper down her throat as she continues sucking him. her other hand playing with his balls giving them attention too.

"fuck- gonna cum down your throat til you choked out, shit- y/n" he moaned out loud as he shoots his thick cum down her throat, y/n swallowed instantly moaning at the taste. some of it dripped down onto her chin but she quickly wipes it and cleans it.

"get up" she obeyed at his order, now facing her professor at the same level.

draco leaned into her face and capturing their lips together kissing her roughly as his hands roaming around her body.

"get on your desk." she immediately throw away all her things on her desk and get on top of it, like he asked.

"you're my good girl, dont you?" he asked as he stands in between her thighs, his cock rubbing her inner thigh making her clawed on the desk underneath her.

"yes prof-"

"its draco" she nodded as she starts to unbuttoning her shirt showing him her clothed breasts.

"yes draco, i'm your good girl" she said seductively and taking his hands in her guiding them to her breasts.

"please, touch me draco.." draco squeezes her breasts in his hands and snatches her bra off of her making her winced, now she was exposed in front of her professor.

"such a pretty tits, all mine?" he twirled her hard nipples in his fingers, pulling and pinching it making the owner hissed in pain.

"yes, all yours draco.." with that draco latched his mouth onto her left nipple as his hand playing with the other one.

"mmh.. yes draco.." she tugged at his blonde locks as he continues assaulting her puffy nipples.

draco plopped out her breasts of his mouth, her nipples now red and swollen.

he gives her a smirk and he pushed her skirt up to her stomach, taking off her panties placing it in his pocket.

"souvenirs." he grins cheekily at her confused face.

he suddenly inserts his fingers into her, stretching her out a little bit making her breath hitched.

his fingers pumping her faster and when he curls them inside she screams his name out loud.

her legs spasmed when she feels her high approaching her, she dug her nails on his shoulder deeper.

but before she could reach her high, he abruptly pulled out his fingers making her cried out as her aching cunt clenching around nothing.

he quickly shoved his fingers down her throat letting her tasting herself, he moaned when he sees her sucking on her fingers delicately.

pulling her hips closer to him and lining up his now hard cock again on her entrance.

"now be a big girl and lead me into you." y/n whines as a protest but she quickly grabbed his cock and pushing it inside her.

she wrapped her legs around his waist and bucked her hips to get him deeper inside her and finally all of him was inside of her. they both throw their heads back in pleasure.

"you act so innocent yet here you are, burying my cock deep inside you." y/n moaned at his words starting to fuck herself on him.

"i'm not innocent draco, for you i'm not.. please just fuck me already" draco chuckles devilishly at her attempts to bounce on his cock.

"cant even fuck yourself properly, such a dumb girl" he gives in to her, snapping his hips forcing his cock hitting deeper inside her and starts to thrusting at steady pace.

"oh my god.. yes yes please feel so good.." she moans loudly, her body writhing on the desk. she propped herself on her elbows to support herself as she rolled her hips to meet his thrusts.

"so fucking tight baby.. never felt this good before" draco praised as he pounding harder into her, he guides her hips with his hands to meet his thrusts making both of them moaning louder.

her eyes rolled back when his tip brushed her spot, he noticed and pounding into her spot over and over again making her seeing the stars.

"draco please.. i'm so close!" y/n wrapped her hands around his shoulder to pull him closer and kissing his lips to muffled her screams as the coil tightened in her stomach.

"cum on me, you- pathetic- little slut" draco snapped harder leaving no space between their bodies.

his hand slapping and pinching her clit making the girl squirmed letting the coil snapped through her body. her legs are shaking and her vision blurry.

her body burns when she realized she just cummed hard on her professor's cock, she looked down and see that her juices coating him. then looking up at him making eye contact.

"fuck- you're a mess, gonna cum inside your tight cunt, stuffing you up full with my fucking cum- holyshit-"

he came to a full stop with her name left his lips as he spilled all of his warm thick cum inside her, spraying all of it into her filling her up like he said.

draco stay inside her for a few minutes, both of them are still catching their breaths and he pulled out of her gently as he softened.

he looked at her flushed face before cupping her cheeks and reconnecting their lips again. the kiss lasted a minute before they pulled away to redressing themselves.

"i'll change your grade. but in all seriousness, study harder, baby" y/n melted at the nickname he gave her, pecking his lips one more time.

"of course, thank you professor" she shots him a wink before leaving the class, making him blushing madly.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

i dedicate this to @angelic-bitxh cuz we have a deal of sharing ghost pics 😊🤝

tagging : @dracoscum @hellounicorn @onyourgoddamnleft @whoreforgeorgeandfred @turn-to-page-394-please @underappreciated-spoon-321 @youreso-golden @silverdelirium @littlemissnoname13 @dracmalf0y-dm @dlmmdl @f4iryluvy @starstruckgranger @yiamalfoy @lieswithoutfairytales @drxcolvr @black-repunzel99 @seriouslyinlove @slut4dracoo @alexthealexthealex

[blindingdutchy]

No but tom fucking me while he wears a hoodie is something I have spent a LOT of time thinking about

okay okay, i couldn't see this and NOT write something so...

lazy lover | t.holland

{boyfriend!tom x fem!reader}

word count: 2,022

warnings: smut... as expected

warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), oral (f receiving)

Moments like these were your absolute favorite. Just you and Tom, cuddled up on the sofa with the soft illumination of the television solely lighting the room. It was storming outside--loud, heavy rumbles of thunder shaking the house slightly, and you could just barely make out the startling flashes of lightning over the tops of the closed drapes.

Perfect weather for snuggles and scary movies, but Tom being the softy he is absolutely refused to watch anything of the sort. So, you'd resigned to watching some romantic comedy for the millionth time. If you were honest, you hadn't watched a single moment of it; instead, you had spent the past hour just closing your eyes in bliss as you carded your fingers through your boyfriend's messy curls and smiled each time he giggled at the screen.

He was your favorite movie, by far. You wished you could see his face, but from this angle you could just barely make out the adorable crinkle of his nose each time he grinned. Tom was sprawled out on top of you, his head nestled over the middle of your chest, and his legs were all tangled up with your own as he laid between them.

It was more than a little stifling in the room as you were caught up in the heat of his body radiating through his lavender hoodie and your own, both of your sweatpants clad lower limbs wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. Somehow, in both of your minds, the storm had translated to meaning cold, when in fact that was far from the case. It was cozy, though, and that made up for the slight dampening on your hairline.

"Princess?"

"Hm?" you hummed, that all too familiar flutter in your heart buzzing out through your body at the sound of Tom's sweet voice.

He nuzzled his face further into your chest, nose buried in the space between your breasts as his hot breathe scorched you through the fabric. "Mmmf yew," he mumbled, and you chuckled at the muffled sound of his words. Picking up his head, your breathe hitched at the darkened hue of his eyes beneath heavy lashes as he repeated, "Miss you."

Cozy turned to hot in an instant. In all the time you'd been dating Tom, you'd come to know one thing--miss you was not something he ever said when you'd been apart for too long. No, miss you was only spoken whenever the two of you had been too close for too long, and he was missing a little something more.

Tom's arms wrapped tighter around your middle, his face burying back into the bunched fabric between your breasts as he lazily pressed opened mouthed kisses through the soft cotton. He left a trail of wet patches in his wake, and your fingers froze in his hair as he found your hardened nipple under your shirt and wrapped his lips around it. "Tom." you gasped.

You tugged at his hair gently, coaxing his face away from your now dampened shirt to look at you. His lips were puffy and reddened from the fabric, a few pressure marks stretching across his right cheek, and he looked so... soft. He looked warm and inviting, like a mug of hot cocoa on a cold winter evening or a crackling fire during a snow storm.

Not a word had to be said for him to know what you wanted. He scooted up the sofa and further over your body until his center was pressed into yours, his lips coming down onto your own in a lazy, slow kiss. You sighed into him, parting his lips with your own as you abandoned his hair to slip your hands under his sweatshirt and trace your fingers over his bare skin.

It was languid and sleepy, like a fire that had burned itself down to a hot, glowing ember. Tom's arms were planted on either side of your head, caging you in place as he dragged his kiss from your lips and down to your jaw. He nipped at the sensitive skin behind your ear, swiping his tongue over the flesh until you whined and he sucked hard to leave a mark of his own.

"Tom, please," you whimpered, rocking your hips up into him, "I need you."

He grinned into your neck, leaving another mark for good measure before he sat up onto his knees between your legs. There was something so beautiful about him like that; this soft, sweet man bundled up in cozy layers that heavily contrasted the dark, heady burn of his gaze. His fingers tugged at the waistband of your pants, and you lifted your hips to help him drag them from your legs--panties too, leaving you bare aside from the baggy sweatshirt that had ridden up your stomach.

Eyes glued to the warmth between your legs, Tom licked his lips, "Fuck, I've missed you so much."

You bit your lip hard, shivering as his fingers ghosted over the chilled skin of your now bare thigh. Already knowing exactly what he was thinking of, you pleaded, "Please, I just want you--"

"Hush, darling," he simpered, "I want to have a taste."

Tom climbed off of the sofa, dropping to his knees on the floor beside you as he grasped your hips in his hands. Thumbs soothing over the skin, he pulled until your legs were dangling from the edge and your core was inches from his face. His eyes truly sparkled then, glimmering at you lustfully as he smiled to himself.

He didn't waste any time teasing, and your hands fluttered helplessly around you to try and ground yourself when you felt his lips wrap mercilessly around your clit. Diving in head first, literally, Tom gripped your thighs to keep them spread apart as he licked fat stripes through your folds. Sparks shot through your entire body each time he curled his tongue around your bud, swirling and sucking around the nub tirelessly.

It was a little pathetic how easily he pulled you to the edge, your stomach all twisted up in knots as you trembled all over. What else was to be expected though, when the two of you had been together for so long? Tom knew your body like the back of his hand, an expert in all the little things that made you tick--like the way his eyes flickered up to watch you watch him make you feel good.

The sight of his brown eyes watching you like a hunter watching his prey, dark and greedy, got you every time. Squeezing your thigh, Tom teasingly kissed your clit and pulled away with a cheeky wink at your groan of frustration. The tension in the pit of your stomach ebbed away, the quivering of your legs ceasing as he patted your hip and mumbled, "Slide up, princess."

Cooing at the name you loved to hear him speak, you scooted back up the sofa until your head fell onto the armrest once more. He didn't even take his pants off when he climbed back up between your legs, arms caging in your head once more. His lips tasted of you as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth as you tugged at his pants eagerly.

"Please, Tommy, I miss you."

Tom's breathe hitched at the sound of you speaking his words, and a little desperately he inched his pants down just enough to free his length from them. You moaned at the sensation of his warm skin falling against your thigh, his tip slipping across the slick mess dripping down your legs. Not wanting to wait for him to make the first move, you reached down to wrap your fingers around him.

He hissed at the contact, hips instinctively rutting into the contact as he groaned, "Fuck, princess--"

The words were lost as you dragged his tip through your folds, teasing your clit for a moment before lining him up. His eyes screwed shut as he sank into you, lips parted in a silent oath, and he crumpled down until his chest was pressed to your own. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you clutched the fabric of his sweatshirt in tight fists as you arched off the couch in pleasure.

Giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch, Tom buried his face into your neck with a muffled moan, "Always feel so perfect, princess. So tight f'me every time."

Tom rocked into you slowly, nudging deeper and making you whimper as you clenched around him. You didn't have to say a word for him to get the message--his hips pulling back before pushing forward again deeply. It felt as if you could feel every last bit of him; every line and ridge of his length dragging along your walls perfectly as you moaned.

You were clawing at his back, fingers slipping over the cotton that was somehow far more slippery than bare skin. If you had thought it was hot in the room before, it was nothing compared to the sweltering temperature between the two of you in that moment. Your hoodie was bunching further under your breasts with each of Tom's thrusts, the fabric of his own scratching at your bare skin from multiple angles.

Sure, you'd had sex with clothes on plenty of times. Rushed and risky encounters in pub bathrooms, your dress bunched up around your hips and his trousers pulled down to his thighs, but this? Tom, suddenly so desperate for you, fully dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants on the sofa? This was new, and it was hot.

The movements were lazy and slow, his lips sleepily suckling at your neck as he panted into your skin and moaned in your ear huskily. You were a withering mess, sweating all over and trying to hold onto him in any way you could to keep from drifting away in bliss. Each sloppy thrust into your heat had you calling his name, begging for that release to finally wash over you.

"Tom, 'm close."

He leaned further onto one arm, lifting the opposite shoulder to slip his hand between the two of you. His hips never faltered as he swiped his fingers through the slick mess between your legs, swirling around your clit smoothly. "Cum for me, princess, wanna feel you." he encouraged, dark eyes blearing down at you hazily.

His cheeks were all red, and his curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat. Lips parting, you panted desperately for air as your stomach began to tighten immeasurably. It was almost too much--the look of him, the feel of his cock languidly finding its home deep within you, over and over. His fingers still rubbing slow, deep circles to your sensitive bundle.

With a sharp inhale, you cried out, "T-Tom!"

The knots in your belly exploded, stars bursting in your eyes as you clenched your entire body around him. Thighs squeezing his waist tightly, fingers clawing so harshly into his sweatshirt you finally found purchase in the skin of his back, and your walls clamped down around his length. "Oh, fuck, princess!" he heaved, eyes screwing shut and nose crinkling as he stuttered in his movements.

Tom's lips parted in a guttural cry before he dropped onto you entirely, arm pinned between you as he continued to ride you through your orgasm with his fingers. He pulsed inside of you, and after a few seconds he gave a loud sigh as a warmth spread through you. Your legs were trembling as you dropped them onto the sofa again, smoothing over the fabric of his hoodie as you finally released your grip.

But, when he moved to pull away, you pulled him back and mumbled sleepily, "Can we just stay like this for a bit?"

Smiling with heavy eyelids, Tom nodded and kissed you softly, easing back down again. You groggily brushed the curls from his forehead and grinned back, humming in appreciation when he rested his head on your shoulder again. His lips ghosted over your neck as he murmured, "I love you, darling. S'much."

"I love you, Tom."

[bump1nthen1ght]

Forest Fun (Male!Reader x Tentacle Monster)

Pairing: Male!Reader/Tentacle Monster

Warnings: NSFT (18+ content) ahead, Dubious Consent, Breeding, Aphrodisaics

Word Count: 1448 Words

Summary: You encounter a creature in the woods, a creature all too eager to keep you to themselves.

Request: hi! can i request an nsfw tentacle monster x male reader? maybe dubcon and breeding if thats okay, i just feel theres a lack of tentacle nsfw on here. thank you and i hope you have a good day!

When you’re finally able to open your eyes, your entire body feels like solid cement. Each miniscule movement is tiresome, like swimming through a thick soup and drowning under the excess pressure.

You’re exhausted, but your senses are slowly returning to you. There's something moving, undulating, all around you. You can feel the muscles pushing and stretching across your body, caressing every nook and cranny. You’re so tired that it almost feels like a massage.

“Hnng...Hmm..” You moan, finding that only your face is untouched by….whatever it is that’s fondling you. The air is muggy and hot, your whole body coated in a light sheen of sweat. Your clothes rub uncomfortably against your skin. You want them off, you want them off now.

“Pretty….Pretty boy.”

A voice whispers, slow and raspy. The unfamiliar tone and it’s breath brushing against the back of your neck should send you running, but you’re so tired. The voice is so soothing, so full of adoration, you can’t help but sink into its tendrils.

The mass of tentacles begins to move you, pushing you further up and away from the ground. They continue to caress and fondle you, but a couple apply pressure; Spreading open your legs or sneaking under your work shirt.

That’s right, you were working. You had heard from your neighbors that the peaches from the forest were so juicy and delicious, they would fill your stomach for days. You had gone at the crack of dawn, heeding your Mother’s warning about the dangerous night, with a packed day-bag and your foraging clothes. After that, things are blurry.

You involuntarily gasp as a tentacle brushes against your crotch. The tiny touch sends shockwaves up your belly and down into your toes. A low purr vibrates against your back. The tentacles around your legs slowly move up your thighs, their grip growing tighter as they grow tantalizingly close to your growing bulge. You find yourself thrusting your hips upward, desperate for that fleeting sensation once more.

A tentacle slowly slithers up your shoulder and to your neck, affectionately squeezing at your jugular before coming up to pet your jaw. Your eyes lazily sweep down to it, lips parted as your breath grows heavier and heavier. That tentacle brushes against your bottom lip, pulling it down, admiring the color as your face grows more and more flushed.

In a quick movement, one tentacle wraps and boldly squeezes your erection, pressing through the pant’s fabric. You gasp and the tentacle near your mouth takes its chance; A thick, sugary liquid drops from it’s tip, right into your mouth.

The liquid glides down your throat like honey, leaving behind a thick coating and stirring a strong sensation in your gut.

You thought you were hot before, but the molten magma that shoots through your veins like adrenaline proves you so hilariously unprepared. Every nerve feels inflamed, your body burning but very much alive. The humid tentacles feel like cool aloe vera, temporarily satiating your overwhelming desire. You can’t help but moan around the tentacle which creeps into your mouth and begins playing with your tongue.

“....More…”

Two tentacles begin fondling your cock through your pants, one focusing on your balls while the other focuses on your sensitive head. The moan that leaves you is positively sinful, one which the tentacles like very, very much.

“Cute noises.” The voice whispers, echoing all round your head. It makes a sound very similar to a chuckle as you continue to groan from it’s ministrations, a damp spot forming at the center of your pants. “Want more.”

One tentacle leaves your weeping cock, deftly undoing your trouser buttons and pulling them down. It’s assisted by several other tentacles, which pet your thighs as they are revealed to the outside. Your underwear quickly follows.

Your moans devolve into whimpers and grunts as a tentacle wraps around the base of your cock, slowly working it’s way up to the head. It plays with the globs of pre-cum, massaging it into your shaft. The other tentacles resume fondling your balls, it’s sticky underside imitating the feeling of a tongue, sucking and tugging.

A cold wetness drips down your cock and into the crevice of your ass, forcing you to jerk  and clench your lower body. A smaller tentacle follows it, kneading the moisture into your skin before tentative poking at your asshole. Your body clenches once more and even the unabashed lust you feel doesn’t assuage your anxiety.

“Don’t worry.” The voice whispers, a tentacle soothingly stroking up your chest and shoulders. “Feel good, it will feel really good.”

You gag around the tentacle in your mouth, trying to voice your protests, but a tight squeeze to your cock silences it with a moan. The tentacle caressing your ass continues, rubbing the natural lube around your tight hole and lightly prodding it with it’s tip.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your shirt soaked through with sweat. Tentacles writhe underneath the fabric, pushing it up and over your nipples, tweaking them with a surprising amount of dexterity. The streaks of pleasure that run down your abdomen causes you to relax your muscles, your mind easily distracted by the delicious feeling. The tentacle groping your tongue leaves your mouth, uninhibiting your languid moans. In that moment, another tentacle pushes into your asshole.

“A-Ah!”

“See?” The voice laughs, slurred and drunk on lust, “Feels good.”

The voice is right; Although the shock had caused your lower body to tighten, the tingles of euphoria wracking your body quickly overshadowed any uncomfortableness. The pressure is foreign but the way the tentacle writhes and presses against your insides has your keeling for more. The tentacle widens in girth as it goes deeper and deeper, the pressure on your cock feeling more and more jarring as it stretches you open.

Your tongue rolls out of your mouth, saliva pooling down your chin as the tentacle writhes inside of you. Your eyes begin to lose focus, all your energy hyperattentive to touch, smell, the sounds of this creature gleefully pleasing you.

“Like that? Pretty boy likes it?”

You nod, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the tentacle around your cock squeezes your cock-base.

“Sooo...good.” You slur, hips lazily thrusting back into the tentacle, craving something more. “Faster, faster. Please.”

The creature acquiesces, the tentacle picking up its pace and fucking you harder. It leaves only the tip with each thrust, before shoving it and hitting your prostate. Another tentacle wraps around your cock, focusing on your shaft while the other fondles your head, almost savoring the taste of your sweaty dick. You feel your balls begin to tighten as the sensations overwhelm you, your noises devolving into hasty breathes and squeaks.

“Please, please-” You don’t even know what you are begging for at this point. You just know you need it and you need it fast.

“Yesssss.” The creature hisses. “Want our cum? Pretty boy wants us to fill him up?” You nod, nearly crying as the tentacles around your cock halt and the tentacle in  your ass slows it’s pace. “We will do it, fuck pretty boy full of us. But,” The tentacle around your cock-head pulses and you nearly jump from the pleasure, “We want pretty boy’s cum too. Want to feel it.”

You nod your head desperately.

“Yes! Yes, you can have it, anything! Please, just give me all your cum, please.”

The creature  purrs against your neck, it’s tentacles easily proceeding. You let out a cry of relief as the tentacle fucking your asshole grows sloppier and sluppier with it’s thrusts. The tentacles wrapped around your cock stroke you with a frenzy, that rising heat in your belly slowly reaching it’s apex.

“Fuck, fuck!” You shout.

“Yes, yes, pretty boy. Cum, cum for us.” The creature growls.

In a crashing wave, your orgasm washes over you. Your cum shoots through the air, covering your lower belly and even your chest. Tentacles quickly wrap all around your torso, lapping it up from your skin.

The tentacle in your ass keeps thrusting, pushing through the aftershocks of your orgasms, before it begins to spasm. A gush of hot liquid coats your insides, all other tentacles constricting around you as stream after stream of cum fills you.

It’s hard to catch your breath, even form a thought, as you sink into post-orgasm exhaustion. The tentacles continue to pet you,  but even their movements are sluggish as they massage your thoroughly wrecked body. Your clothes have been half-hazardly strewn about the forest, your naked bottom dripping and exposed to the elements. But neither you or the creature seem to care.

[wheelsup]

okay but can you imagine spencer washing your hair for you?

like, i never (ever) let anyone (at all) touch my hair, but i feel like he'd be really gentle about it, and there is just something so soft and tender to me about the idea of washing someone's hair for them 🥺

that’s my dream <3 ik you didnt specifically ask for a blurb but i think about this very often. i wrote two versions of this, but this one (with two bickering best friends who are v much in love) won my heart. 

wc: 1.6k   contains: friends (to crushes, maybe ;) ), injured reader. gn!reader

-

“Spence, I promise you that I can do it by myself,” you huffed, attempting to yank off your tank top as you walked toward the hotel bathroom, using only one arm while trying to keep the other as still as possible.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you didn’t sound like you were going to cry,” he snickered, following hot on your trail as you tried to escape his hovering. 

“You’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh really? Lift your arm up, then.” He leaned his hip against the marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to do it. One obnoxiously smug eyebrow arched on his forehead.

Sometime during the case, you’d gotten into a brief tousle with a suspect, who just had to run away when approached. If Morgan had been there, you wouldn’t have even batted a lash, but he wasn’t. So not only had you detained him by yourself, you also wound up with a minor pulled muscle in your shoulder. 

You shot him a sarcastic smile, toothless and irritated, and raised your right arm into the air. He let out an airy scoff. 

“Other one, smart ass.”

Your arm dropped down to your side, your smile falling with it as you turned sharply towards the shower. 

“Look, I’m disgusting right now. So either I suck it up and shower, or you’re going to smell me until the day we solve this case.”

Spencer’s nose crinkled at the gross truth. He wasn’t ungentlemanly enough to tell you, but sharing a bed with a coworker was quite a quick way to discover if they were in need of a shower or not. Your shoulder might be out of service, but both of you could agree that hygiene was a bigger priority. 

“You can’t even move. Just… just let me help you.”

You snorted. “Nice try, Reid. I’m not letting you shower with me.”

He rolled his eyes at your use of his last name. You only called him that when you were annoyed with him. He pushed off the counter and turned to the wall, hitting the light switch and earning a shriek from you as the room suddenly went dark. 

“I won’t look,” he shrugged, amusing no one but himself. 

“You’re a clown, you know that?” you muttered under your breath, drawing back the shower curtain and fumbling around, searching for the knobs in pitch black. “Absolutely fucking theatrical.” 

You found them moments later and ran the water, testing the temperature on the back of your hand. By the time it went from cold to warm, you noticed that he still hadn’t moved. From the sliver of light peeking under the door, you could make out just his silhouette in the corner, perched on the vanity. 

He was being stubborn about this. That, and the comforting fact that you couldn’t see a single thing –– thankfully, not even his face –– wore you down.

“Close your eyes,” you murmured. 

“It’s already pitch black in here ––”

“Close your eyes, Reid.”

Sighing through his nose, he did just that. To make sure you knew it, and also maybe just to be annoying, he made a show of getting off the counter and turning himself around to face the wall. You peeled out of your clothes as quickly as you could. In the process, you caught the long shower curtain under the heel of your foot and, as you stumbled over it, accidentally dragged it along, sending the metal curtain hooks screeching as they slid along the bar.  

The second you found your ground, you immediately shot daggers into the back of Spencer’s head, waiting for him to make a joke. As if he could feel them, he bit back his quip. Not without letting a barely contained cackle slip under his breath. 

“Okay,” you warned, stepping into the shower. Grabbing the end of the shower curtain, you pulled it tightly over your body to cover yourself as you poked your chin out to talk to him. “I’m in.”

Spencer turned and approached the shower, eyes still shut with his hands out in front of him, feeling the walls for guidance. He was still mocking you for making him close his eyes. You raised your brows; he must’ve thought he was quite funny. 

“You look like Velma when she loses her glasses.”

That knocked the funny bone right out of him. His hands dropped to his sides.

“Just get your hair wet and hand me the shampoo.” 

You drew the curtain shut again as you dipped your head under the shower stream, coming back moments later with sopping wet hair and a little bottle of complimentary hotel shampoo. 

He let you sit on the floor of the bathtub, just slightly removed from the spray of the water. Your back was to him, as he kneeled down on the tile floor, just outside of the bathtub so he didn’t have to get wet. You bent your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them.

Spencer first pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as far as he could before deciding to remove it altogether for the sake of protecting the wool against stray water. The cuffs of his work shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows as he got to work.

Taking a healthy quarter-sized amount of shampoo into his palm, he lathered it between his hands before running soapy fingers through your scalp. The pads of his fingertips softly dug in as he carefully massaged the shampoo in.

When he started working his fingers in patterns, putting pressure near your temples and increasing it as he dragged them up the curve of your scalp, you let your eyes close. He was getting rid of a headache you didn’t even realize you had. 

The tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders eased a little, and it made him think about how much you probably needed this. One of his hands came down to massage the muscle between your neck and your good shoulder, knowing it was best to just let the hot water do its magic on the bad one. 

When the shampoo had been sufficiently lathered, he stood up and detached the shower head, bringing it down to you so you didn’t have to move. You leaned your head back for him as he carefully rinsed the soap out.

You weren’t going to ask, but thank God Spencer told you to hand him the conditioner next. This, he slathered all over the ends of your hair, making sure all of it was sufficiently covered in conditioner before loosely twisting it into a low, makeshift pony for you. 

“Mm. I was about to ask how you’re so good at haircare,” you chuckled lowly to yourself, in a half-sleepy voice with your forehead resting on your knees. Dangerously close to falling asleep. “Then I remembered what you used to look like.”

You had a lazy smile on your face just thinking about the days where Spencer’s hair used to be down to his shoulders. He looked so pretty like that (not that he didn’t look pretty now, too), you always wondered why he got rid of it. 

“Remember when I got shot in the knee?” he hummed, returning to work your shoulder. He adorned a tiny smile of his own as he started to reminisce. “You came by my house at least once a week. Brought me meals, watched movies with me. Helped distract me from the pain. Even drove me to my physical therapy appointments.” 

You mm-hmm’d that you remembered.

“You pretty much did everything shy of helping me bathe. Though, I feel like you would’ve helped with that, too, if I asked.”

You both laughed at that. You hadn’t really noticed the parallels of your situation, being injured and needing his help for once. He was happy to repay the favor. 

“I’ll, uh. Let you wash your body yourself,” he said, coming out of his daydream for a moment. He rinsed his hands off and got up, patting down his wet hands on his trousers. With one nod from you to confirm that you’d be able to do it, he quickly exited the bathroom to give you privacy. 

You emerged seventeen minutes later, clad in pajamas with towel-dried hair. Spencer was still awake as you crawled onto the bed beside him, more than ready for bed after that. He looked to the side to ask you how the rest of your shower was, and before he could get it out, you shuffled up next to him, winding one arm around his and resting your head on his chest.

“I take it you had a good shower?” he laughed. This was one of his “I told you so” moments, and for once, you didn’t mind it. 

“Mhm,” you smiled, chuckling behind it as you shut your eyes. You were falling asleep fast. “Spence, the scalp massage…” 

“Was good, right?” he boasted, inflating his own ego a bit. 

You nodded against his shoulder, not caring if you helped blow up his ego another two sizes. Burrowing deeper into the covers, nestling tighter against Spencer, you got one more quip in before falling asleep. “S’good that I think I have a crush on you now.” 

Joke or not, he pulled the blanket higher until it reached your chin, holding you with both arms and kissing the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

*

*

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[sunder-soul]

For Now

A gift for @jujugentle​! Hope it does its job and cheers you up lovely 💖

Summary: A very fluffy, very smutty, very indulgent Tom Riddle one-shot, read at your own risk. Wordcount: 2k. Content warning: oral sex, toe-curling fluff.

PERMANENT TAGS: @jujugentle​​ @weirdowithnobeardo​​ @sweetgoodangel​​ @fromthehellmouth​​ @whoevenfrickenknows​​ @moatsnow​​ @voidmalfoy​​ @lucys-brain​​ @sunles​​ @arana-alpha​​ @tallyovie​​ @expectoscamander​ @nothinghcppens @itsjustfics

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“I’m excited for this year,” you say enthusiastically, piling food onto your plate. “All the classes are so interesting.”

“How optimistic,” Tom smirks, “you’re a veritable beacon of positivity.”

“Don’t you rain on my parade,” you say with mock sternness.

“My apologies,” he says softly, reaching out and gently lacing your hair behind your ear, “that wasn’t my intention.”

“Did you like Professor Dime?” you ask curiously, glancing at him.

He shrugs delicately.

“What?” you ask humorously.

“She’s exactly what I might expect from a Professor of Ancient Studies,” he says very tactfully.

You snort a laugh. “I didn’t like her so much. She teaches like she expects us to already understand everything.”

“I think that’s because she does,” Tom says quietly, smirking again.

“I love you,” you say, smiling.

Tom’s eyes flash to yours and there’s a brief moment of silence. “You do say that at the strangest times,” he eventually says, quite slowly.

You shrug. “I say it when I feel it.”

“Is that so,” he murmurs.

He stands very suddenly and steps out off his seat. “Come with me, I have something to show you.”

You arch a brow curiously, but you stand with him and take his proffered hand. He leads you around the table and out the door of the Hall, the chattering students not paying you the least attention. You frown as he begins to head towards the dungeons. “What are you showing me?”

“You’ll see,” he mutters, pulling you a little harder.

You blink at him as you quickly descend the stairs and round the corner on to the corridor that leads to the Slytherin common room – not that you make it that far. The door to a small broom closet bursts open at the wave of Tom’s hand and he pulls you inside, the door closing behind you as his hands flash to your face and he kisses you deeply.

You exhale, kissing him back as warmth spreads across your face and swells in your stomach, and Tom slowly steps you back against the door as you lace your arms around his neck. “Is this seriously what you meant?” you giggle, pulling back.

“I can stop if you want,” he murmurs, and you blink in surprise because Tom’s hands cup your jaw and brings you into a very slow, very soft kiss before pulling back and…

Tom kneels before you, looking up at you as his hands slip up your legs and gently push up your skirt. Automatically, you spread your fingers through his dark curls, heart racing at the sight.

“I didn’t say that,” you breathe, your head fall back against the door as you look down at him.

Tom smiles as his hands slide higher, his fingers tugging aside your underwear and anticipation thrums achingly in your core, unable to stop pushing your fingers through his hair as he leans forward, slowly, torturously slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours right as his lips press against you.

“Oh god,” you whisper, eyes falling shut, breathless already.

His tongue slides against you, gentle, hot, delicate, moving ceaselessly and smoothly and jesus –

You look down at him. Tom’s eyes are closed, his lips moving slick and wet as his tongue goads you further and further into the heat. You never want it to stop but you’re impatient too, feeling pressure coil in your core when he suddenly looks up at you, his mouth not stopping, his eyes dark and hooded, his cheeks flushed and his lips glistening and god you’re slipping, your fingers tightening in his hair as he smirks slightly, as he doesn’t stop for a second, as he watches you fall –

It breaks over you strangely softly, an ache that makes your head hit the wall again, sweet and blissful, your cheeks thrumming with heat and your stomach going tense in the best possible way before it slowly, gently fades away and leaves you warm and tingling. You breathe deeply, feeling Tom’s hands slip down your legs and your skirt fall, your eyes still closed as he stands again and presses his lips to your neck. “I love you,” he murmurs.

You wrap your arms around him and exhale a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

“We should probably go to dinner,” he says softly as his lips travel down to your shoulder.

“Didn’t you just eat?” you smirk.

Tom breaths a laugh that you feel on your skin. “You are so vulgar.”

“Can you even accuse me of that after what you just did?” you snicker, amused.

“Do you consider that vulgar?” he asks softly, kissing the slope of your shoulder and sending shivers up your neck. “I don’t.”

“Oh?” you say, suddenly a little nervous. “What do you consider it?”

Tom lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours. “Adoration,” he murmurs.

Your cheeks flush. “Oh.”

“Exaltation,” he whispers, smirking as he leans closer to your lips.

“Tom,” you say breathlessly, staring at him wide-eyed.

“You would put me on my knees for worship,” he says silkily, smirking right against your lips, “so that I might pay homage.”

You go very warm, your brain short-circuiting slightly. “And you?” you breath.

His brow furrows, hesitating. “Me?”

“Would you put me on my knees to worship you, Tom?” you ask quietly.

He goes very still.

“I think you would,” you whisper. “I think you like to be adored.”

“It’s impossible not to like your adoration,” he says quietly.

“Then let me,” you smile, kissing him very lightly, slowly, sweetly.

His hands find your cheeks and he exhales, his eyes closing. “How can you be mine?” he murmurs.

You slide your hands down his chest, watching his head tilt at the sensation. “I love being yours.” You slowly pull his shirt from his trousers as you lean in and press your lips under his jaw. “I don’t ever want to stop being yours,” you murmur against his skin.

Tom exhales again, his head tilting forward as you undo his belt, trailing your lips down his neck. “Will you let me?” you ask him quietly, and you lower yourself to your knees, looking up at him as you push up his shirt and press your lips to his hipbone.

“Don’t play with me.” he says darkly, watching you with heated, heavy eyes.

“But I like playing with you,” you smile, kissing across his stomach.

One of Tom’s palms flattens on the wall above you, the other resting gently against your cheek. “You like to torment me,” he amends quietly.

“Same thing,” you smirk, your eyes flicking up to his as you pull his trousers down an inch.

He exhales sharply.

“Would you show me how to worship you, Tom?” you murmur, taking his hand and moving it to the back of you head. He stares down at you tense and hot.

You pull his trousers out of the way, looking up at him. “Show me,” you whisper, opening your mouth and taking him slightly.

His eyes flicker, his whole posture taut like he can’t believe what you’re asking. You place your hand over his and push, watching his jaw tense, his eyes go darker still. His hand beneath yours just barely pushes your head a little deeper, slowly, carefully, like he’s seeing if that’s really what you’re asking him to do, if you’re really wanting him to take control like that.  

It is.

You let your hand slip from his, your eyes closing as he pushes you a little deeper, and you hear him take a slow breath above you as you rest your hands on his hips. You look up at him and watch his eyes flicker, and then, just as carefully, his fingers tighten in your hair and he pulls you back, his fingers right against your roots.

Arousal blossoms again in your stomach as you watch him, as his jaw tenses again, as he slowly pushes you back down.

You sigh as your eyes flutter shut again, the sound muffled by him in your mouth and Tom’s grip tightens in your hair and you know, you know it’s because he’s watching you enjoy this, that you love this, that it destroys him how much you like to belong to him like this.

He takes to it quickly. You listen as his his breath gets sharper, his grip tighter, his movements remaining steady but slowly becoming more assertive, and soon you’re having to hold back a gag as he guides you back and forth, and then –

Tom’s other hand drops from the wall to your head and you look up at him, watch his expression shift with pleasure, with desire, because he’s close and you’re letting him use you to get there, you like it, you want to taste him.

“Are you going to let me?” he murmurs, and he’s tilting your head slightly as he pushes you down again and god –

You can only moan, the smallest sound but it’s desperate and wanting and Tom’s eyes fall shut and then he pushes you so deep that you give a muffled gasp and then he’s pouring into your throat, his lips falling open as a low, breathy sound comes from between them and you’re swallowing as you look up at him, watching him come undone, his lips slick and expression in rapture.

You pull off him slowly, his hands remaining loose in your hair as you stand and take his face in your hands. “I’ll pay homage,” you whisper, “whenever you want me to.”

Tom’s head falls onto your shoulder and he presses his face into your neck, his touch suddenly turning strangely sweet. He takes a long breath and you lace your arms around his neck again.

“Skip dinner,” he murmurs, “Room of Requirement.”

You laugh once, very softly. He sounds extremely drowsy and it’s probably the least coherent you’ve ever heard him. “Why?”

“I want to lie with you,” he says against your skin, “on the couches. By the fire”

“Alright,” you smile, kissing his cheek. “Let’s go.”

The minute you enter the Room, Tom collapses with an uncharacteristic lack of grace onto the couch that’s appeared there by a crackling fire just like he’d said, one leg fully outstretched before him and the other bent with his foot still on the ground.

“Come here,” he says sleepily, waving at you.

You smile and sit down between his legs, lying back on his chest as he lowers his arms around your neck and takes a deep breath. “I could quite comfortably sleep like this,” he murmurs.

You believe it, looking backwards up at him to find his eyes shut and his face relaxed. “I love you,” you say softly.

He laughs, no more than a breath, cracking his eyes open to look down at you. “I love you,” he replies gently.

“Shall I sneak into your dorm to sleep with you tonight?” you grin.

“Don’t tempt me,” Tom chuckles, eyes shutting again as he lays his head down against the armrest of the couch. “That would be an incredibly reckless thing for us to do.”

“So yes or no?” you smirk.

“No,” he says dryly.

“You’re no fun,” you grumble, settling down against his chest.

“That is simply not true, I am a lot of fun,” he drawls.

You blink at the ceiling. “I’m shocked, but… yeah,” you deadpan, “wow, I genuinely can’t believe that’s actually accurate…”

“You are entirely too cruel to me.”

“I’m just mad that you don’t want to sleep with me.”

There’s a pause. “I very much want to sleep with you,” says Tom very softly, “I can imagine nothing would give me more pleasure.”

You blink again, feeling a blush rise on your cheeks.

“I do not, however, want Malfoy and Lestrange to discover you in my bed and ruin your life,” he continues lightly.

“I suppose that’s fair…” you allow a little playfully, closing your eyes and losing yourself a bit in the warm heaviness of his arms around you, the rise and fall of his chest beneath you, his smell in your head, his everything around you. “For now then, this is enough,” you say sleepily.

“For now,” Tom murmurs quietly.

The fire crackles behind you, and a very comfortable silence falls.

[subspencer]

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

.

.

.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

[hello-everyfandom]

“You are one fit bird.”

Warnings: Sex and Mature Themes. Oral and unprotected sex. Shield your eyes!

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Words: 3.5k

Summary: First loves and first experiences.

Remus Lupin despised his scars. Although throughout the years he had grown accustomed to them, he still cowered and feverishly flushed whenever he noticed someone studying them. His mates, Sirius, James, and Peter, never disclosed this information, however they still knew of Remus’ insecurities and would likely have murdered anyone if they said any nasty remarks. Attending Hogwarts as a lycanthrope was already difficult enough, but with every passing full moon Remus seemed to find another scar to his collection. Littering his body, Remus had scars that were new and swollen and some that were faded into his skin tone. Eventually, he got used to the uncomfortable stares, only squirming in his seat when eyes lingered longer than usual. The only stares he could withstand were yours.

Sitting next to Remus as he focused on the essay in front of him, you could not help but stare, longingly at him. Remus could feel your eyes as his ears reddened and cleared his throat.

“May I help you, little one?”

You were quiet and Remus bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if you were thinking of all the possible scenarios in which he could have gotten those scars.

“You are truly a handsome boy.” you said simply. 

Remus had never heard that before, at least from a woman other than his mother.

“Uh, uhm.” He stuttered, his face going bright vermillion. 

“Thank you.”

“Have I ever told you that you have lovely eyelashes?” you asked, propping your head onto the arm that leaned on the table. Remus could see that you were not staring, no, instead you were admiring. He had done the same thing numerous times to you when you ate or blew on your hot tea. He would blink and watch the way you dipped your quill into ink and sifted through your notes with the pads of your fingers. 

“Long eyelashes? Isn’t that a girl thing?” Remus placed down his quill to look at you. He held his hands in his lap.

“It’s a marvelous thing, that’s what it is.” you replied dreamily. 

Remus truly was a handsome boy. His hair was soft and fluffy. His lips were full and pink and when he smiled, they parted and you could see his cute crooked teeth. If you looked close enough, he even had small freckles along the sides of his nose.

“Is that so?”

You hummed, “Hold on, stay still.” you said, leaning forwards. Remus froze as your finger reached and brushed across his cheek, taking the fallen eyelash from its place. 

“Oh, thanks.” Remus laughed, his voice chiming.

“You know, in some cultures, people eat their significant other’s eyelashes.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, “No, I don’t think that’s true.”

You giggled in response, “Probably not, but imagine if, right?”

It was safe to say that Remus Lupin had fallen in love with you. He knew that more than anything. And you were quick to feel the same. His hand in yours felt heavenly and you rubbed the back of his hand with the soft of your thumb. When he kissed you, you could feel the warmth of his skin and the hesitation of his lips. To be someone’s first love is a privilege, a privilege the two of your were honored to have. And with teenage hormones, it was hard to keep your hands off of each other. Still, with months passing and several ‘I love you’s” Remus kept himself locked away in terms of the bedroom. He wanted to. Believe it, he wanted to bed you so badly, to see your chest heave up and down and his name moaned from your mouth. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you harder and faster and pull the skirt from your hips. But he was simply terrified of undressing himself knowing the map of scars he had everywhere. 

This night, like most nights, were spent tucked away in Remus’ corner of the dorm. The boys were out taking the piss out of each other and messing around with a bottle of Daisy Root Draught. Instead of joining in, you and Remus opted to stay in. What started as the two of you reading next to each other somehow turned into desperate grabs and longing snogs. You sat atop of your boyfriend, holding the collar of his sweater in your small fist to pull him closer. Remus’ hands were tangled in your hair and you nearly fainted with the feeling of his tongue between your lips. As you parted from his lips, you leaned and began to press kisses alongside his jaw and down to his exposed neck. The noises he uttered under his breath was enough for you to clench your thighs together, rubbing against Remus’ trousers. 

Wanting to be closer, your hands moved to tug off your own sweater, throwing it somewhere in the room. Remus’ hands moved down your back, feeling the smoothness of your skin and pressing kisses along the tops of your breasts and the bone of your collar. As your hand tugged on the bottom of his shirt, he froze.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, having felt him freeze under your touch. 

You leaned back as Remus looked at you, lips puffy and swollen and your hair messy from the tugging. 

“Nothing, I-”

“Rem, you have nothing to be afraid of, it’s me, yeah?” you whispered and moved to kiss him sweetly. 

“I love you.”

Remus felt his chest hammering away as if it were competing in a race against time. 

“I love you too,” he whispered back. He felt himself allow you to tug his sweater off and closed his eyes at the lack of clothing. He was exposed and terrified at the lack of words you said. He peeked his eyes open, worried he’d see your disgusted face. Instead, he saw the same admiring look you wore when you were looking at him before.

“Remus Lupin,” you said, pressing more kisses to his jaw, “You are one fit bird.”

He barked out a laugh that soon turned into a groan as your lips began to suck on the place between his ear and his collar. You could feel Remus’ hands on your back fumbling with your pesky bra.

“How the bloody hell-” he said under his breath,

“Having trouble?” you teased, reaching back to unclip your bra and letting it slide down your arms leaving you bare. Remus shifted in his seat upon seeing you and you could feel him becoming more swollen underneath you. His hands reached out to cup your breasts, the sudden touch of skin to yours made you gasp. His fingers rubbed over your sensitive nipples, rolling them softly. Remus Lupin decided to become more daring in that moment and placed one in his mouth, suckling and swiping his tongue over you. Hearing the moan you elicited created a burning in his stomach and his trousers became more tighter.

“Fuck,” your gasped, moving your hips on him. Each touch either of you gave created a heat, a warmth that was comforting and lustful. Leaving hickies on each other and racing your fingers through each other’s hair.

“Remus-”

“Hm?” he paused sucking on the tops of your breasts.

“I...” you swallowed harshly and suddenly felt yourself become embarrassed, “I think... I’m ready... if you are, if you want to, I mean, we don’t have to.”

Remus thought about undressing himself in front of you, but the embarrassment he felt thinking about that did not trump the want of seeing you underneath him.

“I know neither of us have ever...”

“I know,” you whispered, leaning to press a kiss to his lips, “But, I’d like to... if you want to.”

With that, Remus flipped you underneath him, pressing more kisses to your skin and pushing his tongue in your mouth. You moaned against his lips, feeling Remus start to slip off your skirt. You moved to help him with his own trousers and began to unbutton them. There was a fumble as the two of you battled your own clothing until you were both only in undergarments. You laid, looking up at Remus as he sat back and began to trail his fingers down your throat to the soft of your belly and finally resting at the band of your panties. From the dimly lit room, Remus could see the small patch of wetness against the white panties you wore. The sight alone could’ve made him finish right there and then, but he looked back up to you, his eyes watching to see if you were going to refuse or change your mind. Instead, he saw you nod quickly and lift your hips to his hand. 

Now, Remus had done something earlier that he was absolutely mortified about. He asked James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew for sex advice. At first they howled in laughter, James holding his stomach as he belted out. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder and Peter sent him a witty wink. Remus grumbled in reply before calling them all twats. At least the advice they came was worth the immense amount of teasing he received.

Remus slowly took off your pants, slipping the fabric down your thighs and off your legs. Gulping down nervousness, Remus looked up to you again for approval.

“Please?” you asked, desperate to feel him.Remus, trying to remember what Sirius had told him, pushed his fingers up the length of your slit.He quickly could feel the button of your clit and the soft moan you breathed made his boxers unbearable. Slowly, Remus moved his fingers in circles, the wetness and warmth made him groan.

“Is that okay?” he asked worriedly.

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, “It’s really good, it feels really good.”

He continued to move, feeling more brave as his fingers picked up speed. He began to slow down, looking up to see your head thrown back. He moved his middle finger down and slowly began to insert it. Remus cursed in his mind at the tightness around his finger and forced himself to be patient.

“Good?”

You moaned in response. It was only until you felt Remus lean quickly and place his wet tongue on the nerves of your clit did you gasp in shock. Your back arched at the sudden texture, feeling your boyfriend’s tongue swirl around your clit.

“I’m sorry!” he reached back, “Was that too much-”

Before he could finish you tugged on his hair and raised your hips impatiently. Remus’ head moved back in his place, between your legs where he could stay forever. The taste of you would soon become his favorite taste in the world as he sucked slowly, pushing his tongue in all different directions. Growing more confident, he inserted his finger again, curving it against the top. Your fingers reached down to pull on his hair and your mind was nearly blank and only focused on the immense amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

“I’m really... Remus, baby, I think..” your breath quickened, “How are you doing this?”

Those words made his eyes widen. He continued at his pace but instead looked up to see you become undone. Your chest moved rapidly, your breasts heaving as your eyes screwed shut. One hand gripping the sheets and the other atop your boyfriend’s head. The sight was something he wished to always see whenever he closed his eyes. He felt you clench around his finger and how more wet you became. The high pitched gasp and jerking of your hips and the curses that fell from your lips made him realize he had made you come. Coming down from the high, Remus propped himself up to look at his darling girlfriend.

“Was that okay?” he asked timidly. You peered down to send him a dazzling smile, grinning and pulling him up by his chin. You pressed a kiss to his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“I think I’m absolutely smitten by you, Mr. Lupin.” you laughed, “Who would’ve thought Remus Lupin was a sex god?”

Remus held himself up, and burrowed his face in your neck embarrassedly, “Stop it, please,” he whined. He jolted when he felt your hand wrap around him.

“Lay down for me,” you whispered.

“Love, we don’t have to- I’m happy enough just-”

“Please?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. The idea of you between his legs could’ve been enough for Remus to whimper. As you switched places, Remus grew more and more antsy.

“I’ve never really done this,” you mumbled, feeling just as nervous as Remus when he first began to touch you.

His finger lifted your chin, “You’ll be wonderful,” he assured, “We can stop anytime.”

He rested back on the bed, the pillows all messed about from your thrashing. Remus wasn’t sure whether or not to close his eyes, but when he felt your fingers graze across his hard length, he pushed himself against the pillows, eyes screwed shut.

“What should I do?” you asked innocently, curiously as well.

“Put your hand around-” he gasped as you did so, “shall I show you?” 

When you nodded, Remus’ large hand moved to cover yours, pushing your fingers tighter around him. He began to pull upwards, jerking around the length. Your hand followed him leaving him nearly breathless.

“There, that’s perfect, good job, baby.” He moaned, “Just like that.”

Moving on instinct, Remus removed his hand as you continued. He felt your fingers touch the veins along him and how your hand was perfectly squeezed around him. He jumped and shuttered when he felt your wet tongue atop the crown of his cock.

“Darling-” he tried to say, but you were entranced by him. How long he was and thick, your mouth watered at the sight and pulled the top of him into your mouth. Your tongue swirling in circular motions. The taste of Remus was sweet and salty and you wondered if Remus had thought the same for you. However, Remus, himself, could not focus on anything but your lips around him. Your lips engulfed him, lower and lower until you felt him at the back of your throat. The length made you gag a bit and to Remus’ embarrassment, he moaned feeling you gag. 

“Alright, darling?” he asked shakily,

You hummed back, the vibrations of your throat creating a string of moans from him. You enjoyed the taste, and attempted to bring him further, closer. Remus had heard about blowjobs from Sirius and James but had disregarded what they described as “beyond describable.” But as he felt you sucking along him, a hand in your hair as you moved up and down him. Your hand reached out and began to move in the way Remus previously showed you as he began to leak.

“Wait, Y/N,” he gasped, “I-”

“Hm?” you asked, coming up for air with a pop of your lips.

“I don’t think-” Remus blushed feverishly, “If you continue, I don’t think I can do much else tonight... if...”

“Oh,” you blushed as well and pressed a kiss to the top before climbing back up to him. “Was I good?” you ask in the same tone as Remus had.

“Better than good,” he struggled to catch his breath. “We don’t... have to go any further if-”

“I want to.” you replied quickly, “If you want to.”

Remus nodded as fast as he could. “But only if you want to-”

“For god sakes,” you laughed, kissing his neck whilst you straddled him, “I want to, please? Please?”

Remus’ eyes darkened upon hearing your begging. The small amounts of ‘please’ made him want to do nothing more than fuck your brains out. He cursed himself for thinking such impolite things but he couldn’t help but look at your drawn eyes, perfectly innocent and wanting, and flipped the two of you over. Remus’ hand found your core again, pushing with his fingers around your clit.

“I’m nervous,” you let out an embarrassed giggle. Remus looked up at you and cupped your cheek with his hand.

“Don’t be, it’s just me, yeah?” he repeated what you had said earlier, the sentence made your stomach flutter in nerves and anxiousness. Remus moved his hand from your wetness and wrapped his hand around himself, groaning at the wetness.

“We can stop anytime you want, okay, Love?” he assured, “If it hurts, please tell me and we can stop.”

“Okay,” you whispered. 

Remus lowered his forehead to touch yours after pressing a cute kiss on the button of your nose. From your heat, you could feel Remus brushing his tip against you, slowly up and down the slit, basking in the wetness and arousal. Remus begged himself for any sense of control as he began to push himself in. A gasp left your mouth making Remus stop in hesitance.

“It’s okay,” you rubbed his arm and cupped the back of his neck, “keep going.”

Remus continued to push in. He could barely... no, he absolutely could not describe the wondrous feeling of your tight pussy around him. He wasn’t even halfway in and yet he could feel you pulsing around him. 

Another gasp, a sharp inhale made him stop and look up towards you worried. He saw your eyes sprout tears and almost pulled out before you gripped his arm tightly.

“Don’t stop, I’m fine,” you said shakily, “you’re just bigger than I thought.”

He almost lost himself hearing that but pushed himself until his pubic bone was touching yours. The depth, tightness and the wet pulsing created a groan. He leaned on his forearms, pressing sweet kisses to your cheeks and said comforting words.

“So good, darling, you take me so well,” his voice was gruff and rugged as he controlled himself. “Can’t imagine doing it with anyone else,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you kissed his lips and said honestly. Remus whispered back before placing his face in the crook of your neck. 

It was extraordinary how full you felt and how you stretched with him. Though, you cannot deny the pressure and uncomfortableness of it all, you still wished for him to be inside of you forever. Remus basked in the warmth and his patience was wearing you thin.

“Rem, you can move, please move.” you pulled on his hair. With movement of his hips, he slid back and into you once again. He could feel you stretching along with him.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he let out before pushing in again. “You feel so good,”

His pace picked up, still small and slow, but enough for the pain to subside and enough for you to feel the rigid and hardness of his length. The feeling alone could make you go insane but you settled for sucking and biting on his shoulder. Remus’ hips snapped into yours, a little faster, and the bed beneath you squeaked along with the moans. 

“Faster,” you begged with a voice nearly fucked out. Remus connected your lips before shifting your leg on his hip, the sudden deeper feeling made both of you moan as you kissed frantically. Remus could feel your nails digging into his back and thought of the pain as the best pain he had ever felt. Burning came within both of your stomachs as hearts connected in breathlessness. 

“I’m” he struggled, “I’m close, love,”

“Please.” was the only word you could say.

Remus thought of your touches, shy and loving, he thought of your lips around him and the sucking of his tip. He thought of his head burrowed between your thighs and the naughty words you said. He thought of the way you wore his sweaters and how they were too big so it hung off your body. He thought of the loving, affection and every other emotion he felt for you and spilled himself full of you. The sudden motion of this newfound feeling made Remus shudder and with a high-pitched moan, he came. He stayed still for a moment, thinking if he made any movements he’d pass out. 

As he pulled away, the two of you whimpered with the loss of contact. He fell next to you, laying on his side so he could admire how properly fucked out you looked. You turned to look at him, pupils blown out, hickies littering your breasts and neck, he watched your nipples harden and the softness of your skin move with your breathing. The silence was comforting as the two of you smiled shyly at each other.

“Was I good?” you asked. Remus couldn’t answer, you were beyond good. You were any words describing amazing.

“Absolutely.” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Now I understand why so many people love sex,” you laughed humorly. 

“If it were up to me,” Remus finally had caught his breath, “We wouldn’t leave the bedroom.”

“Is that a challenge?” your eyebrows raised. 

“Don’t tempt me, my love,” he grinned back.

The day after, when Remus took a shower. He was sad to wash off the scent of you, but needed the comfort of the warm water. He looked into the mirror at the scars you had held and traced whilst he slept. When he turned, he saw his back drawn with marks of your nails written from the movements of love. Remus Lupin, in all his glory, realized the only scars he’d love were the ones you placed onto him.