#but the line that had me fucking reeling is

[fanwarriorfictions]

Help Me, Help You - Part Thirteen

Fenrys x f!Reader

Summary- Fenrys helps Y/n after her brother’s devastating revelation.

Warnings- Overprotective Fenrys, a little angsty, a little sappy, possessive Fenrys

Series Masterlist

Part Thirteen

   He’d heard her cries, heard her scream, and the panic that followed was so intense, so debilitating that he hadn’t been able to control himself.

   Fenrys ran, finding her scent like it was an extension of his own and honing in on it, running through the halls, leaping small distances with his power to get there faster, gods he needs to be faster. He barely registers the members of the Eridun clan diving out of his way, his friends shouting far behind him. He can only hear her heart wrenching cries bouncing around his skull, can only feel the need to get to her, to kill whatever caused her to scream.

   “Y/n,” he yells her name, turning sharply down a hall where her scent streams from, where this little voice in his mind tugs him along, here, she’s here, go this way.

   He sees her, and he leaps the final distance between them, putting himself directly between her and her brother. Fenrys snarls at the male, snapping his teeth at Vaughan, nearly tearing his throat out for making her cry. The shock in Vaughan’s eyes is brief, and Fenrys barely registers the way the male looks between him and Y/n.

   “Fen-“ she chokes on his name and Fenrys sees red.

   “I’ll kill you,” Fenrys snaps at Vaughan, “I’ll fucking kill you.”

   Vaughan stares at him, more emotion on the males face than Fenrys had ever seen in the near century and half that he’d known Vaughan. He looks completely destroyed, tears free falling, his mouth open as if to plead for her forgiveness.

   “Stop,” she cries behind Fenrys, gripping the arm he’d thrown behind him to protect her, to shield her from whatever was seeking to hurt her, “Fenrys stop, it’s okay, I’m okay.”

   There’s a war waging in his head, the wolf in him ready to tear apart anyone who dared to hurt her, and the part that heard her begging him to spare her brother. 

   “Please,” she says, “I’m okay.”

   Lies, gods she isn’t okay, not at all, he can fucking feel it. That aching sorrow in his chest that feels so gods damned cold he shivers despite his warm leathers. Fenrys tears his eyes from Vaughan to look back at her, and he sees those tears streaming down her face, the plea in her eyes, to spare the sorry excuse of a male behind him. He’d do it, for her, only for her.

   Still reeling from the rage and fear, Fenrys does the only thing he’s capable of doing in that state, he leans down and sweeps her into his arms, turning down the hall to take her far away, like distance would heal her broken heart.

   “What is this?”

   The sound of Vaughan’s voice nearly drives Fenrys back over the edge, only the weight of Y/n in his arms keeps him in check.

   “Stay there,” Fenrys snarls, “She’ll talk to you when she’s ready, and you will stay right in this room until she is, got it?”

   There is no room for argument, and the male nods, looking at his sister in Fenrys’s arms, heartbroken. She hides from his gaze, burying her face in Fenrys’s chest, her hands clutching onto his shirt like the fabric is her life line.

   “It’s alright,” he says, turning shield her from him, “I’ve got you, kitten. I’ve got you.”

   No, I wasn’t. She’d known, some distant part of her had known that her brother hadn’t intended to come home, to see her again, why else had he spent the past year running from her. She’d known, but to be faced with that truth, to hear it from his own mouth, was devastating.

   Fenrys carries her for what feels like hours, but perhaps only minutes, cradling her in his arms like she was a child, she feels like one. Feels like the child she’d been when Vaughan had found her, when he had carried her just like this away from the ice.

   Y/n doesn’t bother to look up, to pull her face away from his chest to ask where he is taking her, she trusts him. She knows he will take care of her, will protect her from any threat, including the ones to her heart.

   When a door shuts softly behind them, and Fenrys stills, Y/n finally peals her aching eyes open. They’re in a dimly lit room, similar to the one Vaughan had been trapped in, a single bed pressed against the far wall, a trunk open with their packs peaking out on the other. Her head aches and spins when she lifts her face to look at Fenrys. His face is still etched in that fury, his eyes dark and shadowed by it. 

   He’d appeared between her and her brother the image of a wrathful god, ready to strike down any foe. And she’d realized he would kill Vaughan without remorse, his friend, a male he had fought side be side with for over a century, for simply making her cry. 

   And suddenly she’s crying again, so overwhelmed by every word she’d screamed at her brother, at every year she’d spent alone, until she wasn’t, until this male holding her in his arms had taken her with him. He’d pestered her and teased her and fell apart with her, but he never left her, not like her parents, like Vaughan.

   “I’ve got you,” he whispers against her hair, tucking her beneath his chin as she sobs into his shirt, “I’ve got you.”

   He sat them on the edge of the bed, resting her in his lap so he could wind both arms around her waist. He had her, and he would never let her go, they would stay like this, bonded together by the pain and heartache they’d suffered, by this invisible string of fate that had tugged them into each other’s lives so that they could begin to heal, together.

   He holds her until her sobs turn to hiccups, holds her until she can finally take a full breath of air, holds her until the tears finally cease and she is left utterly exhausted. She’s practically limp in his arms, relying solely on him to keep her from falling to the floor. Fenrys carefully lifts her, enough to drag the sheets down the small bed, laying her down and climbing into the bed right beside her.  Taking her into his arms so that she lays on his chest, she’d end up there in her sleep anyway.

   “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse.

   His hand finds her cheek, lifting her face so she looks into his. She’s struck by everything she sees there, his eyes darker than the night sky, unguarded and fully open to her. He lets her see him, all the broken and healing parts, all the confusion and fear, all the raw terrifying emotions that mirrored her own.

   “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, “I am here, and I will stay here, right beside you through it all.”

   And Y/n reaches back, her palm resting on the invisible scar, where she could still feel the darkness raging beneath the skin, “I am here, and I will stay here, right beside you through it all.”

   It’s a vow, a promise more sacred and more eternal than if he slipped a wedding band on her finger right this second.

   Fenrys woke in the late evening, the smell of roasted rabbit drifting through the halls, setting his stomach grumbling. The last thing he wanted to do was get out of their bed, to not have her pressed against him where he could feel her steady beating heart against his skin. But if he was hungry, she must be starving.

   He hesitates, staring down at her, the soft features of her face that had been twisted in agony only hours earlier. She’s at peace now, and he wants to keep it that way, to keep her safe, content, and happy. He wants to keep her in his arms.

   “Y/n,” he whispers, “It’s time for dinner.”

   She stirs, her nose twitching up in a way that has Fenrys smiling. Y/n blinks at him, her eyes still swollen from crying, her hair still a tangled mess from their flight.

   “Food first or bath?” 

   They both needed to bathe, but he hoped she’d pick food for the sake of his own stomach.

   “Will he be there?”

   Fenrys doesn’t ask, doesn’t need to know who’s she’s asking about. Gods he wants to throttle Vaughan, his anger still hot in his chest. The only reason the male still breathes is because Fenrys knew Y/n would hate him for it. 

   “I don’t know,” Fenrys admits, “I can go while you bathe, bring you something.”

   She nods, “Okay.”

   Y/n pulls back, lifting herself off of him with shaking limbs, his hands move on their own, placing their steadying grip on her hips. He helps her stand, and he stays seated on the edge of the bed, keeping his hold on her.

   “I’m not going to fall,” she says, softly tugging at his grip.

   Fenrys nods, not letting go, “I won’t let you.”

   She rests her hands on his shoulders, and for a moment he thinks she’s going to push him away. But she doesn’t, and Fenrys can only stare up at her, his hands trailing down her hips, feeling the soft flesh beneath his palms. Her grip on his shoulders tighten, and her legs tremble as he grips the back of her thighs. And looking up at her like this, holding her like this, is the most intimate thing he’s ever done. 

   “Fenrys,” she says, a heavy breath dragging through her lips.

   He wants her, so damned desperately, but his wants came second to her needs.

   “The stairs at the end of the hall lead down to the baths,” he says, and he tries to ignore the gruffness in his voice, the ache, “I’ll get us some food.”

   He holds her for a second longer, memorizing the feeling of her. And when he lets her go, she takes a few careful steps towards the wooden trunk that holds their things. He watches her go through her pack, meticulously folding the clothes she drags out, like she needs the motion to calm her.

   He stands and she goes completely still, like her awareness has zoned in on him and she can feel him prowling towards her. Fenrys closes the distance between them, her back to his chest, and in a moment of weakness, he ghosts his hand over her arm, needing to feel her. He feels the shuttering breath she takes in, so similar to the one she’d taken on the ship, when all of this need for her started. 

   “I’ll be right back,” he says, and he leans down to press a soft, lingering kiss to her shoulder.

   Fenrys has to force himself to back away from her, especially when he hears her sigh at his departure. Each step he takes away from her is agonizing, and the door closing behind him is nearly unacceptable. But he keeps walking, finding his way through the maze of stone hallways back to the great hall. The cavern is packed full of riders, talking and laughter filling the air as Fenrys searches for his friends.

   He finds them seated around a large circular table, and sitting across from them, was Vaughan. Rage reignites in his chest and he’s glad Y/n went to the baths instead of coming here, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to see him lose his control and beat her brother to a bloody pulp.

   “I told you to stay put,” Fenrys snarls as he nears the table.

   Vaughan looks past him, “Where is she?”

   “None of your business,” Fenrys snaps, crossing his arms over his chest to keep from lunging across the table.

   Vaughan goes still and his gaze narrows on Fenrys, “She’s my sister, Moonbeam. You stay away from her.”

   There’s a possessive voice in Fenrys that growls, she is mine. He has to take a deep breath to keep from shouting the words, from declaring that to the world when she wasn’t, not yet.

   “You lost her the moment you left her,” Fenrys growls instead, leaning on the edge of the table to lean closer, “You. Left. Her. Alone for twenty years, and you ran away like a coward the second Maeve was gone.”

   Fenrys lowers his voice, his tone lethal, “She is not yours to claim anymore.”

   He can feel the eyes on them, his friends anxiously waiting for him to either back down or lunge across the table. He wouldn’t make a spectacle, wouldn’t cause mayhem in his friend’s home like this. So Fenrys pulls back, taking two plates from the center of the table full of roasted rabbit and whatever vegetables they could grow in this hazardous climate. He turns his back on the male, stalking back towards the hall.

   “Where is she?” Vaughan asks again, demands more like it.

   Fenrys stills, turning to look down at the male over his shoulder. And with a somewhat sick satisfaction he says, “She should be back in my room from the baths by now.”

   He doesn’t miss the way Vaughan’s eyes flare, rage lighting the usually calm male’s face. Fenrys revels in it, in whatever conclusions he was coming to, his baby sister, with the wolf of Doranelle. 

   “Now if you’ll excuse me,” Fenrys grins, “She’s well spent and needs to eat.”

   He knows how it sounds, can see the innuendo settle on the male. Fenrys doesn’t give him the chance to respond, to finally lose his temper and turn the great hall into a brawling pit. Let the bastard stew with the image of his sister and Fenrys together in his bed, doing much more than simply lying there, doing all the things Fenrys had dreamed of doing with her.

Let him wonder, Fenrys felt himself smile, let him suffer.

Tag list -

@emma-andrea1 @mgchaser @anxious-study @lees-chaotic-brain @girl-math-aint-mathing @mali22 @nikt-wazny-y @theworthlessqueen @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @lethargicluv @hannzoaks @batboygirlie @foxysouls @kiarathace @jesskidding3 @raginghellfire 

[farfromsugafanfic]

Rebound | Chapter Five: Switch

Genre: College AU, Basketball Captain!Yoongi, Basketball Captain!Reader, Idiots to Lovers, slight Rivals to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: smut, oral (f rev), mentions of police, "princess" pet name, alcohol consumption, mentions of drunk driving (but none occurs), references to underage drinking (Yoongi and OC are not underage)

Synopsis: You and Yoongi always catch each other on the rebound.

A/N: I'm so sorry this has taken so long to post. I initially intended to get it posted over the course of a few weeks, but life happened and the last semester of grad school has been crazy for me (I also studied abroad over the summer where I had little time for my personal writing). I'm going to get chapters queued up over the next few weeks and I am going to try my best to have it lined up before I return to classes.

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Yoongi reached up and grabbed your hand with his forcing it down against the bed.

"No," he said. "Keep it on. The door doesn't lock and if someone walks in..."

You smiled and responded by pushing your hands up Yoongi's T-shirt. His skin was warm and soft and utterly intoxicating.

His lips continued to move downward, placing sloppy, opened mouthed kisses down the fabric of your dress. Damp spots began to appear as he moved his way down, but you didn't care.

Yoongi was on his knees as he came to the hem of your dress and pushed it up catching sight of your black lace panties. You heard him hum quietly in satisfaction.

"You didn't wear these to the game did you?" he asked. "I imagine that would be uncomfortable."

You laughed. "No, I wore them just for this."

"You planned on getting laid tonight?"

"They match the dress." You smirked

Yoongi began to kiss your thighs, his hands working to keep them parted. He hadn't even reached your core yet, and you were already writhing and wanting to close your legs around his neck.

"Yoongi, we can just fuck if you want, you don't have to—"

He began to slide down your panties then at an agonizingly slow pace. His fingertips brushing against your leg with every inch. When he reached your feet, he tossed them onto the bed beside you.

"No," he said. "I want to show you how much I like you. Let me treat you, Princess."

The nickname nearly sent you into an orgasm by itself. You didn't have much time before Yoongi threw your legs over his shoulders and began eating you out.

His mouth focused mainly on your clit, but that alone was enough to feel the build up in your stomach. If his skill wasn't already enough, the small grunts and moans he let out whenever he came up for air sent you reeling.

You buried your fingers in his hair and pulled lightly, relieving some of the tension.

"I've been—I've been thinking about this since last time," you said, not completely cognisant of the words falling from your lips. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Yoongi never responded as he was too busy trying to satisfy you. He looked amazing on his knees in front of you. If it weren't for the way his hands held you down, it would almost seem like you were the one in control. As if he—the high and mighty captain of the boy's basketball team—was bending to your will.

The thought only got you off more and you were so near your release.

You weren't sure exactly how Yoongi managed to get you off with just his mouth, having kept his hands firmly planted against your thighs the entire time.

"Yoongi, I'm gonna—"

You expected the boy to move his mouth at the warning, but instead as you orgasmed your release covered his lips and chin. He looked beyond irresistible as he emerged and brought the hem of his shirt to his mouth and wiped off your cum, exposing his toned stomach. His white fabric now stained and you were getting wet just looking at it.

"Yoongi, can I—?" You were cut off by the sound of sirens and the flash of lights coming through the window.

"Shit," Yoongi said under his breath. He reached above your head and retrieved his jacket and helped you pull down your skirt. He reached down and picked up one of your heels, searching for its mate.

You could already hear the rest of the partygoers running and various indistinguishable shouts. You sat up and while having just a moment ago been ready for another round, the situation killed your vibe.

"Forget them," you said. "I'll run faster without them."

You took Yoongi's hand and rushed towards the back door. You were sure the police were just there about a noise complaint, so they most likely weren't going to rush into the party, at least until they realized that at least half of the partygoers were underage.

Your first time at the semi-finals party had ended in you spending a night in jail, although you never ended up being charged. It was a college town after all, and drunk college students weren't always the most pressing matter.

"Did you drive?" Yoongi asked, still slightly behind you, but his fingers wrapped tightly around yours.

"Nah, I planned on getting a ride back with one of the girls in the morning. Did you?"

Yoongi nodded. "But, I had a drink. We can't go anywhere."

You were relieved Yoongi didn't plan on driving drunk, but with the majority of the cars parked on the grass in the back were gone.

You immediately spotted Yoongi's dark colored sedan and headed towards it.

"I mean, we aren't underage. They can't possibly care if we just hang out back here? We aren't breaking the law?"

Yoongi shrugged as he took his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car. You climbed into the back wanting to lay down.

"I guess, we'll find out," Yoongi said, climbing in behind you and closing and locking the door. Despite the action still unfolding around you, the tires squealing away and the frantic screams of freshman attempting to run into the woods before they were discovered, the car felt quiet and you closed your eyes, already feeling a little sleepy.

Yoongi had somehow shuffled his way under you. Your back against the back of the seat and your side resting on his. His arm was loosely around your waist and his breath warm against your neck.

"We could just sleep here," he said. "I can take you home in the morning."

You nodded in agreement. You cuddled against his warmth and brought your legs up to rest in his stomach. With the movement, you brushed against his crouch, feeling that Yoongi was still hard and a sudden wave of guilt rushed over you.

"Oh, Yoongi," you said. "I'm sorry..."

"What?"

"You got me off, but you didn't—"

"Don't worry about me," he said, placing a kiss in your hair. His breath soon came to your ear and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. "I'm just happy I got to see you cum."

You knew Yoongi was just teasing, just wanting to rile you up a bit, but it made heat flood into your core and the guilt explode in your chest.

"I-I could suck you off," you said, trying to sound confident. You'd never given a blow job before, but if anyone was going to be your first, you were glad it was Yoongi. You trusted him to go easy on you the first time.

"No Y/N," he said. "Go to sleep."

"But, it's not fair," you said. "You were so amazing and I want to pay you back."

Yoongi's hands grazed over the fabric of your dress in soothing lines you were convinced was the outline to a beautiful work of art.

"Y/N, I didn't do it because I expected anything in return. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to."

"Yoongi, I want to!"

"Y/N," he said.

"Is it me? Do you just not like blowjobs?"

Yoongi chuckled slightly, probably cause it was obvious that you were a little tipsy. He smoothed down your hair.

"No, Y/N, the thought of you sucking my dick is possibly the hottest thing I can think of. But, I don't want you to do it because you feel obligated to."

You quieted and rested your head on his chest, not caring that your dress slipped up slightly or that your feet were now impossibly tangled with his.

Your mind raced at Yoongi's words. Part of you was touched and felt tears stinging and threatening to spill over. But, another part of you was worried. Did Yoongi care about you? More than in a friends who occasionally have sex way? Why else would he care if you felt obligated? Yoongi was a good guy—he always had been—but he has never been the type to turn down a woman freely giving her consent.

But, exhaustion soon overtook your worries. Your sleep was interrupted only momentarily by the bright shine of a light and the sound of Yoongi's deep, raspy voice. The one that emerged whenever he had just woken up or had been quiet for a while.

You couldn't catch what he said, but you felt his hands come to your body as he felt you shift on top of him.

"Yoongi? What was that?"

"Nothing, go back to sleep, Princess."

Taglist: @sarcasticsweetlara @vickvx @baechugff @wobblewobble822 @wmyoons @limiworld

Add yourself to the taglist

[sschizoid]

was wonderiiiiiiiing if you'd be up for any jimcurly hcs if they were in an au? I had so many idea and now that Im here Im blanking lmao- something fluffy please! Im dehydrated over here (there's so much toxic yaoi,- and don't get me wrong, im obsessed, but also- I want them to have some genuine moments yk TT_TT)

ohhh have I got LOTS of thoughts for you anon. wall of text inbound!

--

curly

curly has a naturally gentle, soft and nurturing personality. he's known jimmy for years, and despite his temperamental moments, he still welcomed him with open arms, even trusting him to live under his roof when he was down on his luck. simply put, curly loves jimmy, he always has. he just doesn't know where the line is drawn between them. but he's content with just being in the same room as him

curly's love language is acts of service, and preparing home-cooked meals is his favorite way to display that. he'll invite jimmy to a plate he's prepared, who he knows will most likely reject the offer, even though he's probably hungry, but he'll eventually cave in. he always does

they'll eat on the couch, their shoulders close together and knees idly knocking. curly will happily yap and get lost in a multitude of side tangents, while jimmy just listens, rarely chiming in. it used to drive curly crazy when he'd refuse to speak; he wanted to know what was going on in the other's mind so badly. but he's since accepted that that's just how he was. ever the observer, hardly the engager. and that was okay. he had enough thoughts to talk for the both of them

he often thinks about how jimmy was before everything, back when they were younger, before the world was big, and before his brain practically consumed him. it saddens him in the moment, but its fine, he doesn't dwell for too long. all jimmy needs is encouragement and love, and curly is happy to provide that. he would do anything for jimmy. and he wouldn't have it any other way

jimmy

jimmy wholeheartedly believes that he is incapable of loving or even caring about another human being, yet feels strange when in curly's company. he's always psyching himself out regarding this— his thoughts and senses aren't often reliable, his mind is always playing tricks on him, and he fucking hates labels. but curly? that motherfucker was an enigma

he'll never outright say it, but he enjoys when curly touches his hair or places a hand on his shoulder and gives it a quick squeeze. small notions that aren't overbearing, but still communicate "I'm in your corner". it's comforting, those touches that, if placed by anybody else, would probably irritate the fuck out of him. but coming from curly, they were bearable. more than that, they were welcome

one of the traits he likes about curly is that he doesn't helicopter. he knows how to speak jimmy's language, or at least, does his best, and jimmy likes that. but at the same time, curly doesn't enable. doesn't let him do stupid shit if he knows it'll be harmful or make him upset. and god fucking damn does it piss jimmy off in the moment, because who is he to criticize how he lives his life? but the morning after, he's more often than not begrudgingly appreciative that curly is stern enough to reel him in and keep him grounded. its a careful balance, one they've mastered well over the years

sometimes, and only sometimes, does jimmy think about holding him. when his brain is just a little bit calmer, often after a really good talk or meal. he usually lets those thoughts perish, but sometimes, he starts to fantasize. not even about sex, just about having a normal fucking domestic life. being in love, being loved, being intimate. he'll catch himself looking into curly's eyes and try to imagine some sort of future, one where he gets his shit together and learns to tolerate being alive. one where curly can say he's proud of him and have a reason to actually mean it. a nice house, a different city, maybe they'd even get a dog. the idea always feels like a far away pipe dream, but fuck if it isn't nice to think about, at least for a little while

--

WHEW sorry i got kinda carried away with this one, i just have so many feelings about them. also this is probably more of an, uh... melancholic fluff lol but I hope you like it anyway! ( ; w ; )

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Back Forty View (On Our Piece Of Ground)

1 - First Cast, When The Waters Glass

Pairings: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: EXPLICIT (MDNI!)

Warnings: Nothing spectacular just mentions of pregnancy and lots of swearing (as usual)

A/N: Here it is! The crossover that (maybe) you've all been waiting for! I'm so excited to bring this to y'all! As always there will be mature themes so please read at your discretion and please leave comments, likes and reblog as it's always appreciated! If you haven't read the other two parts, check them out as they give you background on both Tyler/Georgia and Jake/Sam's relationships. There will only be the link to the playlist on the masterlist. ALSO! I will be continuing to write parts for the other two parts in conjunction with this but it will not be as frequent as this for a bit. These chapters will also probably be slightly longer than what I normally write. Hope you enjoy! If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! I added anyone who was tagged on the other parts, already! Also, also, if you read on A03 there are spoilers in the character tags.

Tags: @djs8891 @mrsevans90 @gpsmississippihippie @barnesboo1967 @dizzybee03

Tyler sat in the bass boat, leaned back against the motor, his fishing line cast far out to one side, Jake’s to the other. Their dog, Dixie, was sitting smack in the middle of the boat, next to the cooler, watching birds land in the trees along the shore. Every once in a while she would twitch, as if she was going to launch out of the boat and swim back to shore to try to climb one of the trees for a bird snack. Jake had joked after the first time Kenny took them shooting that they should let Dixie be a bird dog too, but she just preferred to bark at shit more than retrieve stuff. 

Jake’s line bobbed and he began to reel his line in slowly. At the end was a brilliant, large bass, at least thirty pounds, plenty of meat on it for dinner tonight. He high fived Tyler, whose line had begun to bob soon after. 

“What the fuck is that? Bitch is heavy.” Tyler said, struggling to reel in what was on his line. Jake glanced over his shoulder and was about to grab the rod from his brother, which was one of his worst habits. Tyler had tackled him more than once trying to teach him to not do that. Jake was bubbling with excitement as Tyler reeled in his catch. He grabbed Tyler’s shoulders and shook him. Tyler laughed and cursed as the fish at the end of the line thrashed as it got closer to the boat. Tyler tried with all of his might to pull it in. Jake reached over the side of the boat and grabbed it, helping to get it into the boat.

“That’s a fuckin’ alligator gar you sonofabitch! Kenny’s gonna be fuckin’ siked!” Jake exclaimed as he pulled the hook from the fish’s mouth. It was almost double the size of his own fish. He gazed at its serrated teeth and Tyler opened the cooler to put both fish inside.

“Bruh, I think we’re done for the day. Any more weight and we’re gonna sink.” Tyler joked and Jake nodded in agreement. 

“I know usually we catch shitty little fish. What the fuck happened today?” Jake asked and then he glanced down at Dixie, whose long tail was pounding on the bottom of the boat excitedly.

“We brought Dixie! Our good luck charm!” Tyler chuckled and he reached over to scratch behind her ears. She whined as Tyler started the motor and Jake packed away their gear. Once he was done, Dixie hopped into Jake’s lap for the rest of the ride back to shore. They headed home with an excellent cache of fish and enough time and light to go practice roping some steers when they got there.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Jake was a ball of anxiety as he and Sam pulled up to the farmhouse. It had been too many months since his deployment, since being taken as a prisoner and tortured, and not enough since he’d met Sam. It had felt like such a long while away that Tyler had called him freaking out about Georgia maybe, possibly being pregnant. It had been exactly seven months since Tyler said “I wanna come visit.” And then Jake decided against that because he had been about to start his special detachment and all hell broke loose with Tyler’s life. No matter how long they were apart though, the boys always gravitated back to each other. It was Jake though who needed this more than anyone.

I need to see you, Ty.

The words echoed in his head as he stepped out of the rental truck, Sam climbing out of the other side. They’d landed in Little Rock and took the one hour drive toward Dardanelle so that Sam could meet his parents. From there, another four hours in the rented F-150 and a gas station stop or two later, they’d arrived in Stillwater, Oklahoma, at the cute farm that his brother had purchased not too long ago. 

He heard the squeak of a screen door that Tyler hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet, and Sam watched as her fiance’s eyes filled with tears for the second time that day. He nearly ran up the porch steps and slung his arms around his older-by-a-few-hours brother, Tyler Owens. A literal carbon copy with some exceptions. Tyler was about the same height, maybe slightly taller than Jake, give or take a half an inch, and his hair was a darker blond, almost brown. Tyler had a decent amount of fuzz growing on his face, not quite a full beard yet, but it was on its way. Tyler’s eyes were the exact same shade of sage green, but they were tired and his face looked much more sun worn than Jake. 

“Tyler, this is Sam.” Jake said, motioning for Sam to come up onto the porch. She does, and Tyler can only smile and hug her, not surprised at who Jake picked to be his wife. Equally as pretty as Jake, she looked nothing like a country girl, but she could if she wanted. She could definitely fake it and the surety in her steps told Tyler that she had given Jake a run for his money, and the challenge he needed to stay interested for life. Sam smiled up at Tyler and noticed that same warmth in his features that Jake often exhibited. Tyler just didn’t hide his.

“Come in, come in.” Tyler said and ushered them both in the house. It was cozy and a beautiful open floor plan had Sam planning for her future. From the hallway, a figure appeared, followed by three rambunctious puppies. As the figure came into view, Jake stepped forward and Tyler took a hold of his shoulder. He squeezed and Jake could feel every emotion in that one gesture. 

“Jake...this is Georgia.” Tyler said, as Georgia flashed a warm smile at the man who stood next to her husband. Jake stepped over and carefully hugged Georgia, noticing just how pregnant she was. He introduced Sam and she stepped forward and hugged Georgia as well. 

“You’re gonna have four babies real soon.” Jake mused and Tyler clapped him on the back.

“Funny, Jake.” He said sarcastically and Tyler led his brother toward the kitchen.

“Mind if we go get our ‘children’?” Sam asked and Georgia went with her to help. Sam carried Rocco, and Ballast and Muster followed her faithfully. They were excited to see Georgia and as they bounded into the house, it became apparent how big they had gotten in a very short amount of time. They were taller and lankier than the heelers, but in the open floor space between the living room and the kitchen, they exchanged face and butt sniffs and settled easily as if they had always lived here with the cattle dogs. Rocco looked out of place but as usual, he courageously walked into the middle of all the dogs and plopped his little red butt down in a sit, looking up at Sam expectantly. The little red dog exuded confidence that all of the other dogs couldn't put a paw to.

“Well, that was easy.” Georgia remarked as she motioned for Sam to follow her to the kitchen. The ladies joined their significant others in there, where Tyler was regaling Jake of the last big chase. The one where Kate’s barrels flew. Even with her being very pregnant, Georgia was still a good host. “Anything to drink?” She asked, placing a glass of iced tea in front of Tyler. Jake asked for the same and Sam just requested water. Georgia then went to sit in the chair next to Tyler, but he pulled her into his lap instead. Jake smirked, finally getting to see just how much Tyler loved this girl. Jake knew she broke his brother’s heart, but he also knew that the commitment she was making now was more than enough to make up for that. This was exactly what Tyler had always wanted. The life he dreamed of was right in front of him, and he was now sharing it with his brother. 

“So, how long do you think you’ll wanna stay with us for?” Georgia asked as Jake sipped on the tea. 

“Well, we wanted to stay through Christmas and into January. I wanted to see some snow again. I was hopin’ we would be able to be here for the birth though. I wanna see my nephew before I'm back up in the air.” Jake said, glancing at Sam. She smiled and nodded. She didn’t have a timeline in mind and she was fully remote for her work anyway. Jake was able to take some remote work too and Cyclone suggested he make the most of his medical leave. Take all the time he needs. Don’t rush to get back up in the air. He needed to get back in tip top physical condition and he wasn’t quite there yet. Jake was also still seeing a therapist once a week, so he'd be on Tele-Health calls while he was out here. He would continue to talk to Ryker regularly through text too.

“They're thinking March-ish is when he's due. Tyler and I are hoping he's a little early and healthy.” Georgia said and Jake watched as his brother nuzzled against his wife's neck. Tyler had always been the lovey dovey one of the pair so it wasn't surprising to see him like this. 

“You want him early?” Sam asked, the thought of labor weighing heavy on her mind. It was a thought that scared Sam a bit. She wanted kids with Jake but the whole thing unsettled her. It made her feel entirely too vulnerable. But as she gazed at Georgia, she thought maybe it wouldn't be as terrifying as she thought. 

“We'd love that. Tyler would be around longer.” Georgia said and Tyler nodded.

“Yeah but I've already got plans in place for the chasin’ season. Gotta be here for the little guy.” Tyler explained and that made Jake smile. They had similar thoughts on being away from their significant others. Jake didn't want to be deployed while Sam was pregnant, when that happened, because he wanted to make sure he was taking care of her. He also wanted to be there for the first few months because he figured those would be the hardest. 

“I'm excited for you guys. We're really gettin’ somewhere in life, huh T?” Jake said and Tyler could do nothing more than smile at his brother. He was right. Jake had matured more than Tyler ever thought he would. To even be thinking about marrying a girl would've been out of the question for Jake not too long ago. It was a whole other commitment that Tyler had always wanted, that Jake would always say up and down that he never did.

“How about all your pups? You're gonna have scary dog privilege.” Tyler mused and Jake glanced at Sam.

“It was Sam's idea. After the mission went south...a friend of hers offered them. And she already had Rocco, who's liked me from the start.” Jake touted, and Sam gave him a look of annoyance. 

“Having the dogs has really helped Jake with everything.” Sam said softly and Jake's brows furrowed. Suddenly, his outspoken and fiery fiance, was shy. It was a side of her that he was surprised, maybe even a little worried to see. He took one of her hands and squeezed. Her eyes locked with his for a moment and then she looked away. 

“We had a dog when we were in high school. She passed away last year from old age.” Tyler said and Jake straightened a little in his seat.

“Yeah, Kenny said he kind of regretted getting her as old as she was. But she was a good dog. We had a lot of fun with her. Got into a whole hell of a lot of trouble too.” Jake said and Tyler let a chuckle escape his lips and he shook his head.

“Not a bird dog.” Tyler said and Jake nodded. 

“Never.” Jake laughed a little and then there was a comfortable silence that filled the house. It made Jake take a deep breath and what felt like months, maybe even years of built up tension began to melt away. It had been too long that they'd been apart. Jake made a vow to himself, in his own mind, to never go that long without seeing his brother ever again. 

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“R’member when we used to do truck pulls?” Tyler asked, as he and Jake shared a glass of whiskey and a view of the paddock from the porch. Georgia had brought Sam for a tour of the barn, so the brothers were left to their own devices for a little while.

“Fuck if I don’t. Damn. That was wild shit we did.” Jake laughed a hearty laugh then and Tyler couldn't help the smile that reached his eyes.

“Member that rusted ole green Ford you picked up for five hunnit bucks? Fuckin’ thang was a tank.” Tyler's twang came out even more when he was in the presence of his brother. He was comfortable, in a different way than with Georgia. With her, there was a deep intimacy and an understanding for such primal things that went beyond any other bodily bond that Tyler had with anyone. Jake and Tyler’s souls were intertwined, in an out of body way. Something in the aether of the world connected them, giving them what seemed like super powers, but it was just that they were two halves of a whole entity. Nearly identical twins, they just felt things between each other than no one else did.

“Yeah it was. Shit. And I can’t believe you pulled with that square body. Whatever happened to that thing?” Jake asked, sipping on the whiskey. The burn seeping down his throat felt heavenly.

“Tornado got her. Rolled her the first chase Boone and I ever went on. We drove around in this crap Dodge Dakota for the longest time before the channel took off. Then I bought Ole Red.” Tyler explained and then motioned to the red dually, almost lovingly.

“They got sanctioned shit now. Take that big bitch and pull with it. You’d win for sure.” Jake said, making Tyler laugh again.

“Nah. Gotta keep it good for chasin’.” Tyler said, waving off the suggestion.

“You still gonna do that with a kid on the way?” Jake asked.

“Course we are. Well...I don’t know that Gee will. She’ll probably stay home with the kid and the pups. I won’t go out as much. Wanna be here to watch him grow up, y’know? And I don't think this'll be the last either. Gee is really willing to give me anything, Jake.” Tyler's voice sounded unsteady then and Jake examined his brother with concern. 

“Yeah...are you scared?” Jake asked, finishing off his whiskey. Tyler poured him a little more and poured himself more as well.

“Fuckin’ terrified, but...it’s all okay ‘cause I got her beside me and I got my wingman when I need him, right?” Tyler reached for Jake, taking a hold of his shoulder with a strong grip. Jake reached up and placed his hand over his brother's. Tyler's hands were rough and worn, just like Jake remembered them being. There was always a steadiness In Tyler's hands, even when he was going through it after Georgia left. Jake, for a moment, felt like a kid again, ready to go start some trouble.

Meanwhile, Georgia and Sam walked around the property together. They connected initially over having horses albeit very different types of riding. 

“You used to show the big fancy jumping horses?” Georgia asked as they stepped into the barn. Sam felt a grounding sense of comfort, smelling horse hair and hay. They stopped at the first stall, as all the horses were in and eating their dinner grain. Twist, as usual, walked away from her grain, hoping Georgia had a carrot or an apple for her, as she normally did. Georgia pulled a peppermint from her jacket pocket, unwrapping it and giving it to Twist. The mare crunched happily and nickered softly, as if she was thanking Georgia. 

“She’s gorgeous. This is the one that you went to the NFR on?” Sam asked as she reached up to rub the mare’s forehead. Twist leaned into Sam’s touch, closing her eyes. Georgia nodded.

“We did everything. The paint mare too. We even did a hunter under saddle class at the Quarter horse Congress.” Georgia said and Sam’s eyes went wide.

“Wow, you did some serious competing. Was Tyler with you for all of that?” Sam asked and Georgia shook her head.

“No, we had parted ways at that point. Tyler had a bull riding accident that ended his career and I couldn’t stay with him. I couldn’t stay at home either, so I went on the road for nearly five years. It was hard. It sucked and I don’t wanna do it again. I almost regret leavin’ Tyler, but at the same time, I’da never done everythin’ I did, and Tyler never woulda startin’ chasin’ storms. And then we probably never would’ve reconnected.” Georgia explained, as they continued down the line of stalls. 

“Jake hasn't told me much, but I know he was there for Tyler through all of that. It seems like the two of you were meant to find each other again. And you two seem to really love each other.” Sam said, as they passed Rascals's stall and he stuck his nose out to say hi. Georgia gave him a mint and rubbed his muzzle. They headed out the back of the barn and Sam looked out over the property and then she nervously turned to Georgia. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Georgia placed her hand at Sam's back and ushered her toward the arena. They stopped at the fence and Sam took a deep breath.

“Jake and I have talked about having kids...but I'm honestly terrified. I've never wanted kids. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about. I just cant't imagine growing a little human inside me and then having to push it out nine months later. It sounds like hell, but...despite all of that, I want to raise a family with him.” Sam explained and Georgia rubbed Sam's back gently. Sam gazed out over the arena and then turned her head to look at Georgia, who had an understanding expression. 

“So are you asking if this is every bit as terrible as it sounds or if it's all worth it? Yes...the morning sickness sucks, the cramps and not being able to do anythin’ sucks...but knowin’ that Tyler and I are going to get to raise this kid together and try to do it better than our parents...that does make it all worth it. I am a little scared of giving birth because I know it's gonna to be painful, but I know once we see Jaycen for the first time, all that pain is just going to melt away. And we're gonna love the shit outta that kid.” Georgia's point of view put Sam at ease then, more than she thought it would. Georgia had conviction that Sam admired. She was confident in her beliefs too, which made Sam feel a little less concerned about the entire prospect. Georgia pulled her into a tight hug that Sam didn't know she needed until it was happening.

“Thing is though, Sam, you should tell Jake how you feel. I have no doubt that he'll understand and I can tell by the way that he looks at you that he loves you a whole hell of a lot. Just talk to him.” Georgia motioned for her to follow and they walked back toward the house, where the boys were a couple whiskeys deep and feeling good. All the dogs had elected to stay on the porch with them, so they greeted Sam and Georgia excitedly. 

It was well through the afternoon at that point, so they all retreated to the warmth of the house for dinner. Tyler and Georgia made a Shepherd's pie, while Jake and Sam entertained the dogs and set the table. They lit the fireplace, the house warming up quickly. The nice thing about the living room was that there was no TV, only the couches and the fireplace. Tyler's laptop sat on the coffee table, as he mostly worked from there when he had to post videos, but other than that the room was a place of peace and quiet. 

Slowly, Georgia's sister had come in, here and there, and taken hers and her husband's belongings, so the house was beginning to empty, making room for Tyler and Georgia's possessions. There were now several more empty rooms in the house, which was great for Jake and Sam. They were able to take up a room, and Tyler would eventually set up an office inside for himself. He had plans to make an office space for Georgia too, even though she insisted she didn’t need it. The first order of business before all of that though, was to make a nursery for Jaycen, and Sam was very willing to help with that. Georgia didn’t want to do anything crazy, just to put the crib in there, a changing area, and a chair for her to sit in while she was nursing him. Tyler wanted to get as much done before Jaycen was born. 

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“Samantha...we shouldn't...” Jake said softly, as her lips touched his and then traveled down to his exposed collarbone. He was right, they definitely shouldn't be making out on his brother's couch, while he and his wife were just on the porch, enjoying the quiet of the newly minted morning. Jake knew immediately being here was going to ease a lot of tension that he and Sam were carrying, but it was also going to bring up other issues that they needed to discuss. 

“Oh come on, Jake, they're busy. We could just...” She chimed as her fingers reached under the hem of his shirt and tickled around his belly button. He sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed her wrist gently. 

“Sam...you're bad.” Jake's voice grew deeper, his eyes darker with lust as he let go of her wrist and gave in and over to her a little, running his hand up her arm, over her shoulder, to cup her cheek and pull her steady for a kiss. 

“You shouldn't have made me this way.” She mused, their warm breath mingling together. Jake sighed and smirked, his other hand wrapping firmly around her hip.

“You should learn some manners.” He growled, digging his nails in and making Sam moan softly into their kiss. He could feel her lips turn up in a naughty grin, one fit to make the devil jealous.

“Hey, seriously. Stop.” Jake said softly, no malice in his words, but they stung Sam all the same. She drew back and her jaw tightened. She folded her arms across her stomach and Jake immediately reached for her. His eyes filled with regret and his nose scrunched slightly, his mouth thinning. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out. Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry that I want you so bad.” Sam murmured as Jake tried to gently pry her arms from her body. She let him, her hands traveling to either side of his head. She smoothed over the hair behind his ears and let her thumbs run across his cheek bones. His eyes fluttered closed and he swallowed hard.

“Nah, that’s not it. I love you and I know by now you wanna tell me something when you’re like this. We both do this.” Jake said, as he crawled over the top of her, pushing her down against the cushions. She let him, feeling safe underneath him. Feeling like she could tell him. He was right too, that the most intimate conversations they’ve had were when they were making out or after they’ve just had sex. They both felt safety in the vulnerability.

“I...I...was...talking to Georgia...about them having a baby...and...I told her how I’m...terrified of that...but I want to do it anyway. Because of you.” Sam explained, her eyes leaving his and focusing on his lips. He spread Sam’s legs with his own, one of hers hanging off the couch with her foot resting on the floor. Jake settled there and leaned down to press his lips to hers before speaking.

“Why are you scared of that? If it scares you that much we can wait...” Jake said and Sam shook her head.

“It just seems so uncomfortable, and stressful, and I worry about you getting deployed again...but I also know falling in love with you, I signed up for all of everything that comes with you being in the Navy. Those are my insecurities...” Sam tilted her head away, offering her neck to him, but before he could move she looked back at him. “I don’t want to wait. The older we get, the more there’s a chance of...complications. And if we’re going to have kids, I want enough years with them. I didn’t get enough time with my father..and I’m fucking everything up with my mother...”

Tears filled Sam’s eyes and Jake breathed out, his brows knitting as he felt a heavy sorrow wash over him. His first instinct was to capture her lips once again and hold her close, which he did. 

“Sam...honey bun...it’ll be okay...I understand what you’re saying. I get it. But I think we need to take everything day by day while we’re here. We still have to talk about the wedding. I’ve still gotta get all better. Let’s enjoy some of this down time during the holidays. Let’s talk about this when you’re a little less upset. And if we’re gonna have a kid, let’s just let it happen. I think if we over plan for it, it’s only gonna make your concerns worse. Maybe we just keep it at the back of our minds. And whatever happens, you just know that I will fight to take care of you as hard as I have to. You know I would do anything for you.” Jake’s voice was comforting as his hands traveled over her body, down to her waist and under the hem of her shirt. He was so gentle and his touch nearly grabbed a hold of all of her fears and worries and brushed them away, at least for a little while. There was a lot they had to do, and a lot for them to think about, but for right now, they would enjoy the change in scenery, and this new feeling of family in Oklahoma.

[sitp-recs]

Flesh Memory by @citrusses

Harry/Teddy (Explicit, 11k)

Harry’s going to put a stop to this before it goes too far.

Fuck magic, fuck morphing. Harry can mold Teddy with his own two hands.

I sat to write down this rec while still reeling from everything this fic made me feel, all the brand new colours and layers it brought to the way I already felt - intensely - about this ship. Everyone who’s been following me for a while is aware that Harry/Teddy is officially my 2nd OTP. I adore them just as much as I adore Drarry, and am always craving for new takes on them so believe me when I say this is the fic I’ve been waiting for a long time.

I had SO MANY memorable quotes in citrusses’ exquisite prose saved in my notes, but as soon as I started typing I knew I’d pick the one above as it encapsulates perfectly the complex, breathtaking dubious morality of this story. We’ve seen badass Teddy, partners, identity porn, daddy issues etc etc before, but this is the first time I see a story deliberately choose to focus on the darker, toxic potential of this ship - the desolate desperation, the co-dependency, the reckless self-destructive behaviour on both sides. And citrus executes it magnificently with a deep dive into Harry’s mind, keeping him so very sad human and relatable, and by extension, making Teddy - young, capable and lost Teddy - just as lovely through his eyes.

It’s impossible to read this and not feel moved by Harry’s loneliness, or Teddy’s melancholy. It gives the story a mature, somber tone that I really loved, as it highlights the ultimate tragedy of them being a perfect match for each other (“orphans didn’t need teasing, they needed love”). Doomed lovers for breakfast, anyone? Another element that blew my mind was the vivid imagery (Teddy’s dimples, his tattoos!), the strong sense of place (love the Burrow sequence so much) and the idea of their physicality used to display moods and feelings. I found that fascinating and will forever think about brilliant lines such as “but his eyes are red and his skin is pale, and he’s curving in on himself like a collapsing star” and the ways it ruined me. And what could I possibly say about the fabulous smut without compromising myself? So damn hot and tender I thought I was gonna combust jfc 🥵

I cannot, will not spoil the ending but if you’ve seen the tags then you already know this is gonna hurt so brace yourself for the heartbreak but keep in mind that this is a perfect, brilliant ending to a perfect, brilliant fic. I am devastated but I love the possibilities it opened, and have already chosen my own interpretation of how things go (or went - depends on your point of view) from there.

Before being a love story, this is more a poignant character study. I am obsessed with Unspeakable Harry and could spend months detangling his inner thoughts, and learning about how his lonely, detached life has informed his complicated feelings for Teddy. This fic was the best way to start 2025 and got me sat and ready for whatever else citrus decides to cook, Drarry or otherwise. There’s a special kind of awe and gratitude you feel when a fave author explores your favourite rare pair. What a treat, what a privilege. Happy new year to me!!!!

Read on AO3 here!

[astranauticus]

finally had to read omelas for class after knowing for years what it's about and specifically seeing some people talking about it in the context of orv and. good lord. like im trying to sit here in this group discussion with NORMAL PEOPLE pretending to be normal and not just

[7roaches]

busy avoiding spoilers AGAIN if they dont kiss nasty whats the point + bonus doodle under the cut

also the quality got really fucked click to see it crispy

[lokissweater]

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

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oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

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“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

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[bi-writes]

idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

[undressrehearsal]

dare to be stupid

summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)

a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk

part 2

“Truth or dare?” 

It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.

And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 

She smirked when she said, “Truth or dare?” 

You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 

Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 

Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 

You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 

“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 

Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 

Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 

“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 

Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 

Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 

Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 

There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 

In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 

When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 

You grinned. “$200.” 

Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 

“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”

Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 

You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 

“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 

“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 

You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”

Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 

Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 

Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”

Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 

You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 

Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 

You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 

“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 

“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”

Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 

“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 

Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 

You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 

This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 

“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 

Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 

She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.

“Don’t-” 

“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 

“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 

“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 

“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 

Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 

Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 

Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 

“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.

And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 

“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 

You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 

“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 

You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”

You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 

“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 

It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 

So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 

She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 

“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 

And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 

You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 

You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 

You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.”

“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 

For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 

She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.

“How would you rate your last kiss?” 

You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 

Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 

“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 

Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 

Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 

Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 

Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 

You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 

“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 

Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 

And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 

You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 

And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 

Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 

Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 

That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 

“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 

And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 

Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 

And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 

Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 

“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 

She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 

The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 

Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 

“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 

“What?” 

“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 

“Truth,” you sighed. 

One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 

You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 

“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 

It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 

Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 

This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 

And you decided to play her game. 

“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 

Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 

You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 

She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 

But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 

“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 

You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 

The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.

“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 

Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 

“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 

You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 

She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 

Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 

Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 

You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 

You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 

Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 

“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 

And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 

Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 

Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 

You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 

You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 

And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 

And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 

And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 

Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 

It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 

Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-

A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 

Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 

When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 

The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 

Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 

You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 

Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 

You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”

The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 

Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 

You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 

When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 

Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 

You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 

Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 

“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 

She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.

You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 

You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.

Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 

[whelpimnauthuman]

Gotta love when somebody asks why I chose the username I did (on a different platform) and when I answer honestly ("haha, it's an attempt at trying to light-heartedly make fun of a bad situation with my disability") they. Chose to go from 0-100 and start making fun?? As if I didn't just say "yeah, it's been hard, we haven't even had a year since this happened"?

Like, I did my best to be light hearted, and get they were probably trying to get in on joking too? But there's a difference between "yeah, my brain don't work so I'm naming myself after it, haha" to someone I barely know doing a BrAiN dOn'T WoRk voice and asking if I stopped drawing because it affected my arms??

[steddie-as-they-come]

everybody talks

i could not tell you what this is. i wrote it all in one sitting. enjoy or whatever

It starts with the graffiti.

Scribbled in thick, permanent marker across the boys' gym lockers.

STEVE HARRINGTON FUCKS EDDIE MUNSON

The custodian tries half-heartedly to scrub it off, but he only manages to get about a letter and a half off the locker before his shift is over. It's back up by the next day anyway.

Half the school is walking on tiptoes around Steve, waiting for him to blow up and demand a manhunt for the culprit.

The other half is snickering and laughing as he walks by in the halls.

Steve doesn't give two shits. He holds his head up high and walks onwards, ignoring the laughs and the kissy noises. He needs to graduate. He needs to not get eaten by a terrifying monster from an alternate reality. More pressing things happen to Steve Harrington than grade school graffiti.

Until he turns the corner and sees Eddie Munson glaring furiously at his closed locker.

He doesn't speak to him. Even if the graffiti isn't a big deal, there's no need to add any fuel to the fire.

Eddie finally steps forward and wrenches open his locker door. The crowd milling in the halls begins to laugh.

Papers spill out, dozens of them, cascading over the floor and burying Eddie's shoes. One slides all the way to Steve's feet.

He looks down automatically.

There's an atrocious drawing of two stick figures bent over each other. The one on the bottom has two lines of curly hair, while the one on the top has a singular swooping line of graphite.

Great.

Steve swiftly scoops it up and crumples it in his fist, shoving it in his pocket. He'll toss it out later.

As he hustles past Eddie, steadfastly not looking in his direction, he thinks he hears Eddie mutter, "Every class period."

Steve turns a corner, and the train wreck that is Eddie's locker is gone.

He slides into his seat, knowing the band girls who sit in the back corner of the classroom are whispering about him, but finding he couldn't care less.

The teacher starts class.

He reaches into his pocket and slides the crumpled paper between his fingers, over and over.

Steve raises his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom?"

The teacher nods and waves him away, and Steve scrambles out the door, rounding the corner.

Eddie's still there, kneeling by his locker, trying to scoop up papers.

Steve kneels next to him. "Hey."

Eddie jumps like an alley cat that's been spooked. Steve could swear his hair starts bristling, puffing up.

"Your majesty," Eddie finally says, glaring back at the pile of paper like Steve'll disappear if he doesn't look at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure."

It's not really a question.

Steve answers it anyway. "Came to help," he says simply, picking up a piece of paper that has EDDIE MUNSON X STEVE HARRINGTON written on it in bold letters, surrounded by stupid little hearts. "After all, my name's on half this stuff."

"How kind," Eddie said. "Keeping me distracted while your buddies key my van or something?"

Steve reels back. "Huh?"

"I'm not dumb, Harrington," Eddie says, crumpling up another sheet of paper. Steve can barely catch EDDIE HARRINGTON on it before it's balled in Eddie's fist. "I get this is a prank or whatever. I just can't understand why you'd involve yourself with me. The King and the Freak."

"'Cause I'm not the King anymore." Steve says, standing to drag a nearby garbage can closer. It's already half-full of papers. "You sure don't listen to gossip, Munson. Billy beat my ass and I lost every friend I had. So. I think it's a prank on both of us."

"Oh."

Eddie, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, shuts the fuck up. Steve had seen people lose their meals to his impassioned school cafeteria rants, but it only takes Steve Harrington to shut Munson's infamous mouth.

Wait, that sounds wrong.

They keep cleaning in silence - relatively. Steve starts balling up the papers and tossing them at the trash can, unable to stop himself from hissing out a yes! if he makes the throw.

"Impressive," Eddie says dryly. "Can you do this?" He raises one hand in the air like he's about to take a pledge, and in the other he folds and rolls a slip of paper until it's shaped like a joint.

Steve chuckles. "Nope." He takes the fake joint, and it comes undone in his palm, revealing the same crude stick figure couple from earlier.

Right.

Steve had forgotten what they were doing here.

Evidently, Eddie had too. He looks down at the drawing, then snatches the paper from Steve, tossing it in the trash, two spots of pink high on his cheeks.

He scoops the last of the papers into his arms, dumping them in the trash can. "You can go back to class," he tells Steve, settling down with his back against the locker.

"What are you doing?" Steve says, slightly caught off-guard by the dismissal.

"Seeing if those pricks will try to do it again." Eddie says, folding his knees up to his chest. "They do it all the time. I think there's a jungle's worth of trees just being used to make shit for my locker."

"You're just gonna guard it?" Steve asks.

"Sure," Eddie says, picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. "What else have I got to do?"

Steve plops himself down next to Eddie. "I'll guard with you," he says stubbornly.

"Seriously?" Eddie asks, like Steve's particularly slow. Steve's gotten that tone of voice a lot in his life.

"Yeah." Steve says. He parrots, "What else have I got to do?"

"You're just gonna fuel the rumors, dude." Eddie says. "My name's mud around here. You know that damn well."

"Sure," Steve shrugs. "But it hasn't been half-bad hanging out with you, and I don't care what these jackasses think of me anymore. Bigger things to worry about."

They settle into a comfortable silence, watching the students pass by, their whispered comments and curious glances bouncing off the duo. Eddie taps his fingers rhythmically on the ground, humming a tune Steve doesn't recognize but finds oddly comforting.

He reaches into his pocket to feel the small paper, then tugs it out. Is it dumb that a stupid drawing is making him think about himself this much?

"Hey, Eddie," Steve starts, hesitating. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," Eddie says idly.

"How do you... I mean, when did you know you were gay?" Steve asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie's expression turns to one of suspicion, but he answers anyway. "I guess I always knew, deep down. But I really figured it out in middle school." He looks at Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"

Steve bites his lip, considering his next words carefully. "I think I might be... different too. I mean, I've only ever dated girls, but lately, I don't know. I feel... something."

Something means he worried for weeks when Billy beat the shit out of him because suddenly all these feelings were tugging at his brain. Feelings for people like Eddie Munson.

Eddie's eyes widen slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. (What? Steve's not looking at his lips. Huh?) "Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High, might not be straight? Now that's some gossip I'd actually pay attention to."

"Shut up," Steve mutters, but he's smiling too. "I'm serious."

"Well..." Eddie trails off. "We can try it out?"

Steve's heart skips a beat. "Huh?"

"We can try it out." Eddie repeats. "But, uh," he leans close, his breath ghosting over the shell of Steve's ear. "Just so you know, I prefer to be the one on top."

Weeks later, the school is overtaken by a new kind of graffiti. Papers plastered to every surface, a spiky handwriting (usually used to write setlists and D&D character sheets) adorning each and every one of them.

EDDIE MUNSON FUCKS STEVE HARRINGTON

[wild-jackalope]

summary :: the times things went wrong during sex! Featuring my favs; Gojo, Choso, Yuji, Megumi and Toge.

warning :: sex, awkward sex (it happens), safe sex!

note :: all characters are of age!

Satoru (the sound)

The two of you had been going for some time, your third round of the night. Satoru had done a particularly good job in making you utterly wet, which was now the cause of your chest threatening to burst with laughter.

Whenever Satoru buried himself deep in you, it caused an odd kind of squelching noise. You placed your hand over your mouth, giggling against it.

Satoru had come to a gradual halt, noticing your puffs weren’t the moaning kind. “You’re laughing?” He asked in a tone that conveyed he was judging your juvenile sense of humour.

“I’m sorry, it’s just funny! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood. Please continue.” It’d only taken a moment of silence before you laughed again, now joined by Satoru.

“Jeez, you’re stupid.”

Choso (too long)

It had been around 20 minutes, Choso was still panting against your neck with his dick buried deep inside you, rutting against your insides.

You’d already reached your climax 10 minutes ago, so now his dick felt like it was giving you an inside gut punch.

“Choso, you close?” You huffed, clawing at his back.

“Almost there, my love.”

You whined, staring up at the ceiling and debating how much longer you could keep up. You’d already tried clenching around him, but hadn’t seemed to help and making out only made him slow down to appreciate your kisses.

You tapped on his shoulder, sighing gratefully when he slowed to a stop.

“Can we take a break? I’m feeling a little raw.”

His eyes seemed to widen with the realisation and he slipped out of you. “I’m so sorry for not noticing.”

“No no, it’s fine baby just give me a little bit and I’ll be okay.”

Yuji (no protection)

You’d been making out for at least an hour, with Yuji’s body pushing you into his mattress and his hands cupping your rounded curves.

He’d barely even broken from your lips to pull out his desk drawer and feel around for a condom. However his hand failed to brush against any wrappers.

“Fuck, I forgot to buy my condoms.”

“Are you serious?”

The two of you were well horny by now, each reeling from the effects of arousal.

Yuji eyed you carefully, face flushed and expression needy. You leaned back into the bed defensively.

“We’re not doing it raw.” You stated. He exhaled sharply.

“I know, I know. Damn.”

Megumi (came quickly)

You straddled him, sliding carefully onto his cock before relaxing at his base. This was a position neither of you had tried before, both your excitement was palpable from the way his dick twitched and how your pussy gushed.

He breathed sharply, fingers digging into your thighs holding you still. He needed to pace himself, otherwise this would be over too soon.

Playfully, you clenched your walls around him.

“Shit.”

His hips bucked into you, humping out his orgasm. You felt warm cum pool into the condom, causing you to shiver. “Already?” You asked.

He only responded by palming his face, covering his embarrassment from you.

“You must really like me topping you.” You grinned, kissing the hand that covered his face.

“Shut up.”

Toge (poor communication)

“You want…”

“Bonito flakes.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, face red and utterly flustered. “Crap. This is really hard. I can’t tell what you want me to do.”

He wanted you to relax and not overthink things.

“I don’t know where I can touch you. Do you even want me to touch you? Do you even want to have sex?” You asked, fretting that you had gotten the wrong idea.

Toge rolled his eyes. One would think him making out with you until your lips were red raw and touching every sensitive part of your body was a good indicator that yes, he did want to have sex. “Salmon.”

His answer only further worried you. So instead of attempting to talk, Toge took your hand and placed it on his crotch, letting you feel how hard he’d gotten.

You flushed.

“Right, I think I understand now..”

[coconutdays]

imagine! ghoul sukuna catching a whiff of you while he's knee deep ravaging in some deserving creep's guts. you've just been dropped off home by a cab directly in front of your apartment, and he's right around the corner, hidden in an alleyway, perfect for perching up and getting a view of you.

what kind of human are you?

sukuna has never wanted to fuck a human. they're weak and incapable of pleasure the way ghouls are, boring.

but the sight of you...

his bloodshot eyes hone in on the sound of your heartbeat from so far, fuck even the way it beats is turning him on.

and, is that, fear? he smells?

you seem to be taking a bit long in tapping in the code to your apartment building.

"you wanna give me a taste cheeky!" a slurred and cackling voice jeers and suddenly sukuna's head reels to the forty some year old cat-calling you from the end of the street. before he can even process the thought, he feels his body tense and get ready to defend you, watching critically as your eyes widen and you fumble with the door again.

and right just when the creep crosses a distance that might get close to you, you quickly zoom inside after a low buzz of your door.

and it's then that the creep is at your door, starting to yell at the building for you to come out. you don't hear it considering your apartment was rather far from where his yells could reach. and you don't hear him stop abruptly either.

the next morning, on your way to work, you don't even pay much attention to the small splatter of blood stains near the entrance of your building.

but what does catch your attention is the large and tall meat stack of a man that walks by you while you're on the way back home that afternoon. he's immensely handsome, scarily so. but he looks so serious and as if he couldn't notice the blatant stare you gave him in awe.

and everyday, you see him again at the same point in time. as if his schedule perfectly lined up with yours. except he never looks at you and you feel as if he's destined to never do so.

maybe its your own small obsession over him, but you start seeing him in your part of town more often. at the grocery store he's always buying packs of instant coffee and and what looks like regular groceries for his pantry. whenever you're on the metro, he's barely just escaping to another destination and off to the stairs. if he's at a cafe, theres a cup of coffee in his hands, black, from the one time you got an intense whiff of it in passerby.

but his obsession with you is anything but small. sukuna prides himself in eating every single piece of scum that has made you uncomfortable. it's worked out, considering his hunger's grown a thousand times more ever since he laid eyes on you and you're such a beauty that a number of men flock to you.

a month of this behavior passes, and sukuna had thought he'd already reached rock bottom until he catches a whiff of you, on your period.

his right eye almost twitches when he passes by you.

and it gets his blood boiling when the precinct's famous sleazy ghoul also passes by you, pheromones screaming that he wants to devour you.

sukuna devours him later that night after he spied on him spying on you the entire day. if anybody was going to devour you, it'd be him. and you were going to scream for only him, pleasure or not.

you belong to him.

this fan art of him on the left corner with blood on his mouth got me bad :(

[satorusugurugurl]

JJK Men: Accidentally Finding Your Private Photos

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: language, smut, unprotected, sex, cream, pies, oral sex, photography,, consensual photography, minions of nudes

Word Count: 4,861

A/N: I finally finished one of the pool from so long ago! I have to be at work in the next six hours so I’m only gonna get about two hours of sleep, but it was well worth getting this written. Geto’s nearly took me out but Nanami’s MGBBGHBJNCRGHG yummy

Gojo Satoru:

“Oh wait! Wait until you see these pictures of Megumi!” Gojo laughed out loud, smacking his thigh as you both sat in your living room. “The kid got messed up!”

“You're such an ass sometimes.” you laughed, glancing over at his phone. “It was a grade two curse.” Gojo waved a hand before you as he flipped through his photo gallery. You grimaced, feeling nothing but pure sympathy for the young boy, while your best friend snickered. “Yikes, poor kid.”

Gojo put his phone down with a content sigh. “Shoko fixed him up; he's sleeping it off.”

“Maybe he wouldn't have needed to sleep it off if you weren't too busy grabbing kikufuku.”

You felt the couch shift as Gojo dropped one of his long arms around you. “Someone's just upset she didn't get any!” He pursed his lips together, bringing his other hand up to poke you in the cheek. “I ate them all on the bullet train home~!”

You could feel your cheeks flush as you shut your eyes tight, trying to make it seem as though you were pissed off by his childish teasing when in reality, you were resisting the urge to rub your thighs together as the smell of his cologne overwhelmed you. Gojo Satoru might be your best friend and boyfriend, but he was annoying and overly confident, which left most people with a sour taste when forced to be around him. But you liked that about him.

He was an egotistical little shit, but he was your egotistical shit.

“Hey, I'm sorry; I promise to get you a bag next time.” Gojo squeezed you against his side, allowing you to feel the warmth of his body.

“Whatever, I don't care, not when I went to that new sweet shop without you when you were gone.”

The gasp that left Gojo’s mouth was soap opera-worthy—as if you had just told him his twin brother, who had fallen down an elevator shaft, was still alive. There was something almost satisfying in how he reeled back, his eyebrows furrowing underneath his blindfold.

“You promised me that we would go together!”

“Yeah? Well, I promised the second year that if they could successfully make a talisman that could prevent me from crossing a line, I would take them out for ice cream. And I was promised kikufuku! So it looks like we both broke our word!”

“You Little shit! I can’t believe you went without me!”

“Yeah, I did, and guess what?”

Gojo leaned down, his eyebrows twitching under his blindfold. “What?”

“It was fucking delicious!” you watched with satisfaction as your boyfriend slumped forward, dropping his head down.

“You’re so cruel.”

“I wouldn’t have had to brag if some gluttonous idiot didn’t forget to bring me kikufuku to share as he promised!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Oh, you’re sorry?”

“No, not really?”

You scoffed as you scrolled through your photos. “Oh, you’re going to be sorry.” Before your boyfriend could question what you were doing, you turned your camera to him and showed him the photos of the different desserts you had ordered in the second year.

“Stop!” he slowly licked his lips. “What is that, and why can I taste it?!”

You zoomed in on the banana pudding Maki had ordered. “Southern banana pudding with vanilla wafer and whipped cream topping..” before you could flip through the rest of the photos, your phone was plucked out of your hands.

“I hate you.” snarled them, moving through your photos in your gallery. “ I hate you so much that I’m taking you back to that same café after work, and I’m not gonna buy you anything, and I’m gonna make you watch me eat the banana—” his words were abruptly cut off as he scrolled to another photo—one that wasn’t of pastries and cake but if you.

You were nothing but a sheer black Lacey bra and matching thong. The camera was pointed above you, getting a great shot of your beautiful body. The curves and dips were so gorgeous that the swells of your breasts caught his attention. He could see your nipples through the fabric, making his mouth and anticipation of a different kind of treat.

“Toru?” the snapping fingers drew his attention away from your phone screen. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m starving.” His voice was deeper than normal, and a certain tone behind it caused heat to pool between his legs.

“W-Well,” you cleared your throat. Do you know what you’re hungry for? Did you see anything else you liked from the café besides the banana pudding?”

“Oh, I saw something I liked but wasn’t from the café.”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to ask him what he wants. Instead, he turns the phone to you, much to your shock. There are no pastries on the screen. It is the photo you took the night before and the new set you bought at the store for tonight. You gasped, reaching for your phone only to have your boyfriend hold it up above his freakishly tall head.

“Oh my God! Why did you scroll that far!?”

“Why didn’t you send these to me last night?”

“I just wanted to see what it looks like on me!” hands grabbed your hips, pulling you back against your boyfriend's sturdy form.

His lips slowly trailed over your neck as he pulled you down one of the dark alleyways of the school, somewhere away from fellow sorcerers or students. “Do you want to know what I think of that pretty little set?” Gojo listened to you. I think you look delicious in it, and I just so happen to be starving.” His head tilted slightly, grinning so wide the dimple in his cheek deepened. So are you going to let me devour you?”

Both of you breathe heavily, your eyes roaming over his face breath, brushing over your bottom lip. The tension was so thick before you snapped, grabbing his face and both your hands smashing your lips against his as he growled, kissing you back with as much passion. That kiss shifted into something that most people would write as NC-17. Gojo was able to control him himself, but when he found out you were wearing the same set from the picture, he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground, pinning you against the wall. Your skirt was pushed up to your hips while your pretty panties were pulled to the side. His mouth pressed against your neck, muffling his moans. Your moans muffled as his right hand pressed firmly against your mouth.

“Shit baby, you’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart.” his left hand massaged your thigh, easing the ache that accompanied the burning sensation of you trying to keep your legs wrapped firmly around his waist as he pushed himself deeper inside of you, slamming you against the concrete wall.

“Mm~!! Mmm~!”

Your sweet, muffled moans against your boyfriend’s palm only had him moving faster to draw more out. “God, I’m so lucky to have a girlfriend is fucking sexy and stunning as you. Anything you wear looks fucking fantastic on you.” he snarled against your neck. “I want you constantly so fucking bad.” your legs tightened around him, giving him a gentle squeeze as your walls constricted around him, drawing out a louder groan from Gojo. “Oooh fuck, fuck, fuck~!!” you could feel him twitching inside of you. His little grunts and whines against your skin had your walls, stomach, and heart fluttering at the sound of his voice. “Fucck~ baby—haaah fuck yeah, keep squeezing me like that! Just like that!”

The head of his cock presses perfectly against your g-spot, making your eyes roll back, a telling sign that you are close. Gojo was thankful for this because he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last any longer. He sped up his movements, slamming into you, making you scream into the palm of his hand. That erotic sound pushed him further, making him move faster, harder, fucking you with all of his strength, and being the strongest allowed him to lose all his control. He was fucking you so good. The literal wall behind you shook under the force of his thrusts.

The combination of his monstrous thrusts had cock you squirting as you cried out against his hand. Your orgasm had soaked his uniform shirt and boxers with your release. Feeling you cum so hard left Gojo growling as he bucked even harder. Thick ropes of cum filled you, and he didn’t stop there. He kept going, fucking his cum further into you, pushing it as deep as it would go until he finally stopped. His breath tingled over your skin as he slowly pulled away, smiling drunkenly at you.

“Fuck sweetheart that— sweetie? Babe?” he chuckled as your head fell forward, hitting his shoulder. “You good there?”

“I-If I knew you finding my nudes would lead to you fucking me like that, I would’ve shown them to you sooner.”

“Them—?” his voice was very soft, but his cock twitched hard inside of you. “You have more of them?” the instant Gojo found out about the whole hidden album that was on your phone full of your nudes and private videos. He dropped the veil and teleported you back to the apartment. Seeing all your pictures and videos would be worth the lecture he’d be getting from Yaga the following day.

Geto Suguru:

The days that Geto got home early from a mission or some of his favorite days. These were the days he got to take a hot shower, sleep in his bed, and see you again. Whenever he was away from you from your home, he felt like a part of him was missing

When he walked into your shared apartment, he felt all the tension in his shoulders melt away. The familiar smell of homemade aches and pains vanished as if Shoko had healed him. God, he’d love getting home early. What would have made coming home even better would have been if you had been here with him. But from the side of your slippers by the door, it was apparent that you were still stuck at work.

Suguru had about three hours before you gave him more than enough time to shower, take a nap, and do the laundry. That way, whenever you did get home tonight, all you would need to worry about was cuddling with him on the couch. Geto did everything in that exact order, and by the time the last load had been folded, you texted him that you were on your way home with dinner.

Knowing that you would be coming home soon, I encouraged Suguru to move faster, hang up the laundry, and throw his boxers in his drawer before opening yours to put your folded panties inside. He was putting away your bras when an envelope underneath the lacy fabric caught his gaze. He had put your clothes away multiple times, but he had never seen that shoved there before.

Was it wrong to look at the contents hidden at the bottom of your underwear drawer? Maybe. Was it going to stop him from looking? No way in hell.

When he freed the trap envelope from under your flimsy sets, he was pleased to see his name written over it in your handwriting. It seems as though you wanted him to find this. Plop down on the edge of the bed, open it, seeing photos inside. They were Polaroids from small squares with black backs, white frames, and a glossy finish. Flipping them over, Suguru tried to think if you both owned the Polaroid, but all those thoughts went tumbling out the window as he stared at the pictures in his hand. Whether you owned the Polaroid camera or not didn’t matter to him.

All he cared about was the nude photos of you; he held his hands.

You were in different positions in the show, sprawled out on the bed, the blanket doing nothing to cover you. Well, other photos are arranged from you sitting on your knees, back slightly arched, pushing your breasts out to you facing down on the bed, the camera pointing at your face. Seeing you so naked, looking at the camera with a sultry expression, had all of the blood from Geto’s head went rushing to the head of his cock.

Why the hell were you hiding this from him? Was this a little treat for him after a mission, or did you want to get him all riled up?

Suguru didn’t have to wait for the answer because the front door opened as soon as he put the pictures down on the bed. “Sugu, I’m home!” You barely managed to put your keys in the bowl near the front door when your boyfriend rushed out of the room, his dark hair flowing behind him. “Welcome back; I picked up your favorite Zaru Soba good—aggh!!” Suguru scooped you up, putting you over his shoulder before rushing back to the bedroom.

Your boyfriend didn’t say anything as he threw you onto the mattress. You swallowed hard, sitting up on your elbows, only to have him reach down, ripping open your uniform jacket. Buttons went flying across the room as you fell back against the mattress. Your perfect breasts bounced the confines of your shirt, making your horny boyfriend feral.

“S-Sugu!”

“Found your pictures—”

Was all he said before tugging your shirt over your head, his hands frantically pushing down your pants as he worked at his gray sweatpants. “Fuck you look so pretty in them.” Pictures? Oh God, you found the images you had taken for your anniversary with him?! You found yourself wishing that the mattress would open up and swallow you whole so you could avoid the embarrassment that was itching at the back of your skull.

“T-Th—ahh~” his lips moved expertly over your collarbone while his hands gently squeezed your breasts, pushing your shirt up enough that allowed him to tag your bra down, freeing them. “S-Sugu—those—w-were—”

“Exactly what I needed.”

Your photos may have been what he needed to get his motors going. Or maybe you were the stress relief he needed after a very annoying mission. Your pictures were the fuel that he needed to destroy you.

Drool seeped out of the corner of your mouth as Suguru grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing your face down into the mattress as he fucked you from behind. Your back was arched, ass sticking up, allowing him to slide in deep. You loved this position; it felt so good to be manhandled like this.

His long, thick fingers dug into your hair, pulling you up just an inch and allowing you to take a deep breath before your face shoved back into the comforter. You cried your hips against his cock, forcing him deeper inside of you. As you did, the other sounds besides the slapping of skin, your moans and his, the clicking of the Polaroid camera he held in his hands.

“Fuuck~ yeah~ fuck yourself. Rock your hips back against my cock Princess.” Suguru watched as your weekly whimpered, rocking your hips back pathetically slow and allowing him to snap a few pictures. “Ooh fuck.” he hissed through his teeth, grabbing the developing film, shaking it before his hips picked up his pace again, slamming into you, forcing your face back into the bedding. “Gonna keep that one in my wallet.”

“S-Sugu~! Haaah fuck!”

“Yeah, do you like the idea of that? Me having a nasty photo of you in my wallet?” He pulled back an inch, taking another photo of his cock wet with your arousal, the tip still buried inside of your wet cunt. “ only you know that was in there. And you would be the only one to know that when I’m on a mission and at a hotel alone. You’re pretty pictures are what I’m stroking my cock to at night.”

“Hnngh!” You sobbed, fingers digging into the sheets, as you tried your best to rock back against him, chasing your orgasm that was coiling deep in your abdomen. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum!”

“Yeah, do it~ cum all over this fat fucking cock, baby~ make a mess.”

The orgasm snapped like a rubber band deep in your tummy. Your toes curled as you screamed as loud as your lungs would allow into your pillow. Suguru sucked in a breath, Following your body that collapsed on the bed, his hips still frantically moving against the fat of your ass, chasing his release that came just as fast and hard.

“Fuck~ oooh fuck yes baby! Cumming~ cummin’!”

Geto continued fucking you, not once slowing down, until he fully pulled out of you, loud pop echoing off the walls. You weakly protested as he repositioned your back arched ass out, you already knew what he was doing, but your body just wanted to slump back onto the mattress and fall asleep. But this was what your boyfriend wanted to do, and seeing that your pictures were the reason for his horny desires, let him do what he wanted if you listen to several clicks from the Polaroid behind you.

“Fuck—” Suguru whispered, shaking the photo as he set the camera aside, pulling you onto his chest. “This is Playboy material, babes.” he had the picture between his pointer and middle finger, turning it for you to see the photo he had captured of his cum running out of your pussy.

Seeing such an intimate photo of yourself like that didn’t leave you feeling dirty or embarrassed in any way, shape, or form. Instead, it had you feeling the returning burning desire in your stomach. And while your boyfriend, the pictures he had taken, adding to your collection. Suguru was so entranced he nearly missed the sensation of your soft kisses trailing down his stomach.

“Excuse me,” he scoffed, setting the pictures to the side. Just what do you think you’re doing there, princess?”

“Cleaning up my mess~ get the camera ready. I want you to take a lot of pictures. That way, I can reference what I have to do to improve my technique.” Suguru wanted to chuckle, but when you dragged your tongue over the underside of his cock, his eyes rolled back as he weakly searched for the camera that was on the side of his bed. He loved coming home early.

Nanami Kento

“Ken! Baby, I think something is wrong with my laptop!” you say before dramatically hitting the keyboard.“It’s banging for me to put it out of its misery. I think it’s finally time that I retire this guy.”

“Huh, it’s not that old model.” You pouted as your husband took your laptop from before you and plopped it down on his lap as he began typing at the computer. He looked as though he was some hacker from one of those cheesy nineties movies. “If you would keep it up-to-date like I’ve told you to do multiple times, you wouldn’t have this issue every time you opened it.”

“I hate waiting—”

“You need patience in your life; it can make things go a lot smoother for you in the long run.”

You puffed out your cheeks, knowing very well that your husband had always been right. You needed to take more time to find solace in your life. Maybe one of these days you would be able to do that. Today was not one of those days, though. You need to get on your laptop and finish the report, or your boss will surely give you an earful the following day.

“Yaga will kill me if I don’t get this report to him by the end of the day. Kento baby, what am I going to do? I’m too fragile to go up against, Yaga!”

Kento laughs, looking at you over the bridge of his glasses. “You and I both know you are more than capable of taking them out. Give yourself more credit, Love.” You appreciated your husband's honesty, but that didn’t help you with your current situation.

“Kento, that’s not gonna help me with my report.”

“Love of my life, it’s an easy fix. Just use my laptop while I try to get this up-to-date for you.”

Nanami rolled his eyes as you smothered kisses alongside his cheek. “Oh my god, thank you! I love you so much!” You grabbed your husband’s laptop and went to work on your report. Well, he clicked and tapped more gently at your keyboard than you had before.

He was able to update your system. The wheel constantly turned on your screen while he sipped on his wine. Nanami made a mental note to show you how to do this yourself once your report was submitted to Yaga; as your screen returned to life, it didn’t open on your lock screen, which was usually a picture of the two of you on your wedding day. Your laptop had decided to open up right where you had left it two nights before.

It was still a picture of you, but it was from your boudoir photo shoot for your wedding. Nanami choked on his wine as he stared at the screen, his cheeks flushing, and all the tips of his ears burned as he stared at the most intimate pictures he had ever seen. Pictures you had yet to show him after three months of being married.

The intimate photos of you are done so tastefully. Most range from different positions, like lying on a couch in your robe with your veil on. While the other was of you slipping your wedding dress on the backs, nagging against the fat of your ass, showing off the pretty lacy white underwear you had been wearing. But the photo that had Nanami choking was of you on your knees, your wedding veil falling over the swells of your bare breasts as your hands covered your nipples. Your eyes narrowed, staring at the camera while your lips parted slightly. Seeing you like that made him try to inhale his wine, which ended poorly for him.

“Oh! Did it go down the wrong pipe?” You asked, putting his laptop down. “At least it's white wine and not red. Red wine stains are bitch to get out of the carpet.” You stood up from your spot, stretching your arms above your head. “I'll go get you rag quick.”

You barely moved two steps before your husband was following after you. “Why didn’t you show me the pictures from your boudoir photo shoot?”

“Oh! Well, I didn’t care for how some of them came out, so I decided to pick through my favorites before I showed you. Why do you ask?”

Nanami didn’t need to answer your question because you got your answer the second your eyes darted toward your laptop. And, of course, he was looking at one of the pictures you even had a chance to look through. You just stared at the photo of yourself before running a hand down your face.

“They’re terrible, I know. I should’ve never let Shoko convince me to do it.”

Nanami gently took your hand, leading to the front of his pants. He placed your fingers over the hard bulge that was throbbing. You swallowed hard, glancing up at your husband, who was blushing just as much as you, and his very physical reaction twitched, letting you know that your husband liked the photos from your sexy photo shoot.

“I like them; I like them a lot.”

“I can tell,” you whispered, brushing your fingers over his erection through his pants. “Ken, you're so hard.”

“T-Th-hhngh photo.” he jerked his head toward your laptop, “really caught my attention.”

“Oh, it did?”

“Yes.”

Looking back at your screen, you truly took in the side of your photo. Your photographer had shot the picture in black-and-white, giving it a certain elegance despite the horny look in your eyes. You remembered asking for that specific pose for your husband. But in reality, it was for you.

You pushed Nanami back against the bed with a smirk. “Is there a reason why that picture cut your attention?” He huffed a sigh, blushing a darker shade as he watched you rub your cheek over the bulge.

“I like it because I love it when you’re on your knees for me, sucking my cock.”

Your fingers wrapped around his buckle, unfastening it. “Can I let you in on a little secret?” Nanami nodded, growling as you tucked his pants down. “That’s why I asked for her to take that specific picture. Because I know how much you love me on my knees for you.” You pressed kisses along his shaft from the base to the tip, your tongue ding over the pre-cum that was seeping through the fabric

“O-Oh—”

“Let me demonstrate.”

Your demonstration continued for what seemed like an eternity in heaven. Nanami gently stroked your hair as you slid your lips up and down, taking his cock further into your mouth. "Ohh fuck yes, those photos of you looked so good, baby girl. Makes me wanna devour you~" Kento gently grabbed the top of your head, pulling you forward until his cock slid across your tongue, hitting the back of your throat.

You hummed around him, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock before bobbing your head slowly up and down over him. Staring into the sea of lust, your eyes looked like how they had at done with the camera during your photo shoot. That submissive pose, the faux innocence in your eyes, was precisely what Nanami loved about this position.

"Ohh fuck. Perfect little mouth just for me, huh?”

You moaned in approval as you bobbed your head. Nanami was the perfect husband. If he was going to praise the photo of you, he felt like you didn’t look good, and he would get a treat. He was so kind, sweet, and considerate to you, so if you were able to spoil him once in a while as a thank you for all of his sweet words and for providing for you, you would not hesitate at the chance to do so.

Kento pushed you back by your forehead, groaning softly. "Fuck, you look so pretty~" He growled before thrusting into your mouth, his balls slapping against your chin. You whined around him, looking up at him into his eyes as he fucked your mouth. You could feel yourself getting wet on every ball of your head. He moaned low in his chest, looking back into your eyes. "Oh. I know that look~ You want me to make love to don't you honey?” Your eyes snapped wide as you blushed deeply. “Good girl~ Once I use your throat, then I'll fuck you like you need, darling~" Kento groaned, speeding up his hips.

Your eyes watered, streams of black trailing down your cheeks as he fucked your throat slowly. Watching him slowly lose control made your finger twitch as you slowly reached down, rubbing yourself. God, you loved him, and you loved how he made you feel!

"Ah-ah. What did I just say, Love. let me cum down your throat firat, then your pussy can feel good. I want to spoil you for being—ah—such a good girl.” He purred, speeding up slightly before stiffening as your tongue wrapped expertly around him, massaging his shaft in time with the bobbing of your head. “F-Fuck! Yes, j-just l-like t-th-hhngh! Haa! Fuck!” Kento snarled before cumming in your mouths, face fucking you through it.

With each spurt that filled your mouth, you eagerly swallowed it, only pulling off of him when Kemto was whimpering from the overstimulation. As you sat on your knees, licking your lips, Nanami watched you through half-lidded eyes. His lips slightly parted as he did something he had never done before. He pulled his cell phone out and held it directly in front of your face.

“Ken?”

“Stick your tongue out. Show me how you swallowed it all.” without arguing, you did as your husband asked, sticking your tongue out. As you did, he snapped a few pictures before growling and zooming in on each. “Fuck you're so beautiful.” He sighed, admiring his photos for one other second before he placed his phone down on the couch before yanking you up onto the sofa and flinging your panties off.

“Ah! K-Kento, what are you doing??!”

“You being on your knees in front of me might be one of your favorite positions.” He growled as he nipped and sucked on your inner thighs. “Well, one of my favorite positions is right here, between your thighs so sit back and relax, my love. I’ll take very good care of you.” You squealed as his tongue ran over your sensitive clit, before arching you back, eagerly bucking across his mouth.

Note to self: Get Shoko a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of wine for booking the boudoir photographer for you!

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[thef1diary]

DIRTBAG CARLOS? idea idea idea: he takes you to play golf. no panties. Itty bitty golf skirt. he slides his cock in you when he’s teaching you how to play.

— good god this had me reeling 😵‍💫 maybe he’s ruined your panties on the drive over, leaving you with two options: wear your cum stained panties, or don’t wear anything at all. You chose the 2nd option but dirtbag!carlos is very unpredictable. 18+ content below

Carlos stands behind you, his body flush against yours as he helps you adjust your grip on the golf club. The heat of him is everywhere—his broad chest pressed to your back, his hand firm on your waist, his breath teasing the sensitive shell of your ear. The small golf skirt he insisted you wear barely covers anything, and the breeze licks at your bare thighs, a constant reminder of what he’d done to you earlier.

No panties. He’d made sure of that on the drive over with his hand between your thighs the entire time, ruining the delicate fabric until you had no choice but to leave them off entirely.

“Focus,” he murmurs, his tone sharp but laced with amusement as his hand slides lower, brushing the hem of your skirt. “You’re shaking, nena. Don’t tell me you’re distracted.”

“Carlos,” you gasp, trying to maintain some composure, but it’s impossible when his fingers trail higher, grazing your inner thighs.

He hums thoughtfully, his hand pausing just short of where you need it. “I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” he muses, gripping your hips and pulling you against him. “I bet you’re already dripping for me. Still so needy, hm? I just made you cum in the car.”

You bite back a whimper as his other hand guides the club in your grip, pretending for a moment like he’s actually going to help you. Then, in a swift move, he nudges your legs apart with his knee, pressing himself closer until you feel the hard, insistent line of his covered cock against your ass.

“Hold still,” he commands, his voice dropping into something darker, rougher.

You don’t even have time to react before you feel him, the blunt head of his cock slipping between your folds, teasing. He doesn’t bother with any warning, just one smooth, deliberate thrust that has him buried inside you. The stretch steals your breath, and you barely suppress a cry, your grip on the club faltering.

“Fuck,” Carlos groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you in place. “You’re so wet, nena. I barely had to try.”

You shudder around him, your legs trembling as he pulls back slightly, only to thrust forward again, deeper this time. His pace is relentless, each snap of his hips sharp and demanding, the filthy sounds of your slick arousal filling the air around you.

“Carlos,” you gasp, your voice high and desperate as you fight to stay upright.

“Quiet,” he growls, one hand slipping under your skirt to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “You don’t want anyone hearing us, do you?”

The thought makes your cheeks burn, but it also sends another wave of arousal coursing through you, and Carlos notices. “You like that, don’t you?” he taunts, his breath hot against your ear. “You like knowing anyone could walk by and see you bent over like this, taking my cock.”

You can only moan in response, your body tightening around him as he drives into you over and over, each thrust deeper than the last. His hand snakes around to your front, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, merciless circles.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Your body obeys before your mind can catch up, your release hitting you like a tidal wave. Your knees buckle, and Carlos curses, gripping you tightly as you shatter around him.

He doesn’t stop. His pace turns almost punishing as he chases his own release, his groans growing louder until he finally stills, buried deep inside you as he spills himself with a rough, broken moan.

You tremble beneath him, legs shaky as you fight to stay upright, but before you can fully catch your breath, he pulls out. The sudden emptiness makes you gasp, and the warm, sticky sensation of him dripping out of you has your thighs clenching instinctively.

He takes a step back, adjusting himself and smoothing his shirt as if nothing happened. Meanwhile, you’re left reeling, flushed and half-dazed, gripping the golf club for balance.

“Carlos,” you whimper softly, your voice laced with desperation, but he’s already picking up another club, his focus shifting to the pristine green ahead.

“What?” he asks casually, his tone maddeningly nonchalant as he lines up his stance. “I told you we came here to play golf, cariño.”

You bite your lip, your body still humming with need despite the way his release trickles down your inner thighs. You shift, trying to steady yourself, but every movement reminds you of how full you are, and it’s impossible to focus on anything else.

Carlos smirks, clearly noticing your struggle. He turns his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. “What’s wrong, princesa?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Filled you too much to concentrate?”

Your cheeks burn, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “I need—”

“Ah,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening as he straightens up. “No whining. You want more? You have to earn it.”

“Earn it?” you repeat, breathless and incredulous.

He steps closer, leaning in just enough that you can feel the heat of him without him actually touching you. “That’s right,” he purrs, his voice low and teasing. “Play the game. Prove to me you’re paying attention, and maybe I’ll let you ride me in the golf cart.”

want more dirtbag!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days