#cw: voyeurism

[stale-trash]

It's Albedo's birthday, and it is Friday the 13th....allow me to humbly suggest creepy Albedo on this blessed day

cw: yandere, voyeurism

GN reader!

A/N: was in a bit of a rush to put this out on time so uh ignore anything that makes no sense (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)

I interpret Albedo as rather reserved emotionally. He isn't unfeeling, he just doesn't share much of what he is feeling to those not closest to him. Unless you can perfectly analyze his mannerisms, you wouldn't even know that he's upset or happy or troubled unless he explicitly tells you.

Most wouldn't call Albedo cold though; mysterious is their adjective of choice. He is holed up in his lab, conducting experiments day in, day out like any genius of his stature should.

That's why most give him some grace when he inadvertently insults them with that pleasant voice of his. You can't fault the guy, he spends most of his time in the middle of nowhere - it'd be weirder if he did remember how to properly socialize.

Albedo isn't a fool, he is acutely aware of how he is perceived. He doesn't bother changing it because it's convenient for him.

Especially when it comes to pursuing you.

He can observe you to his heart's content without consequence. From staring unblinkingly at you whenever you run into each other to suddenly noting down your responses, there is little stopping him from treating you like an especially fascinating specimen. Whenever he toes your bottom line too much, all you need is a bashful apology and an empty promise to break the "bad habit".

You get used to it, just like everyone else in Mondstadt. Yet, you can't shake this feeling of...wrongness about him. His stare isn't that one of innocent curiosity but one that burns. It's a stare you can feel from miles away with how it burrows beneath your skin, demanding to know every single thing about you.

It's a stare that desires to strip you bare.

Once you notice it, you can feel it whenever you're alone. It's as if there are thousands of those cerulean eyes trained on you. Sometimes, the sensation vanishes as fast as it arrived, and other times, it follows you for hours. It doesn't matter if you are in the safety of your home - curtains firmly drawn, windows bolted shut, and doors triple locked - or are out and about, it always finds you.

It somehow gets worse whenever you attempt to undress. You can feel it increase in intensity as if encouraging you to continue. You can feel it roaming your skin like a thousand hands. You can feel it memorize every single feature and meticulously transfer it to paper for your viewing displeasure.

You don't know what's worse: the crime, knowing the perpetrator, or the perpetrator knowing you know.

[arcaneacolyte]

Not me furiously writing this idea dump/ficlet on my phone at the kitchen table to get the idea down and then running here to post it 🤣 CW: Phantom (Aeon) Pillow Humping, Voyeurism, Unresolved and Resolved Sexual Tension, Polyghouls ⛧——————⛧ Thinking about Phantom coming into his Earthly sexual awakening while on his first tour. Everything leading up to the tour was so busy and chaotic and filled with him learning how to be the rhythm guitarist for the band that he didn't really have much time to look into or even really think about sex beyond a quick hand or a pillow hump when he gets too pent up.

But then he's in a tour bus with 8 other Ghouls, all whom have high libidos, and suddenly his body decides to really start waking up and making literally everything about his packmates attractive. There's not one of them that he isn't wildly attracted to, and it starts to become a problem because he's going to be spending extended time with them in enclosed spaces for the next six months.

This is where I think his humping tendencies come from. He's so dizzily attracted to them all, but he feels like he doesn't want to mess things up, move too fast or commit a social faux pas and then end up stuck in an eternally awkward situation for the rest of the tour. He'd honestly almost rather be sent back to the Pit than have to deal with his pack hating him for any reason.

So at night, he almost always rubs one out by laying on his stomach and either humping the mattress of his little bunk, or taking his pillow and shoving it up under his hips, almost biting through his lip to hold in his little whimpers and squeaks and moans. He tries to hold it in, but after a while he just can't help it, accidentally teasing himself to the point where he's so desperate that his hips just start moving without thinking about it.

Of course the others know. Yes he might be able to stay relatively quiet for the most part, but that has nothing to do with the smell of him. He reeks of pent up Ghoul more often than not, and the only reason why no one has pounced on him yet is that they see his hesitation, and also don't want him to feel pressured. It's a silly miscommunication thing, but eventually, I think someone has to stop Phantom from stinking up the bus and staring longingly at the rest of them with those big little puppy bat eyes.

I imagine either Dew or Swiss would finally think enough is enough, and hatch a plan. A way to show Phantom that the desire is mutual without having to confront him about it because the little Quint will just deny till he's purple (more purple) in the face.

Late night on the bus and all the pack is asleep for the most part, but the telltale desperation leaks from Phantom's bunk, and either Swiss or Dew's bunk is right across the isle. A little curtain on both bunks is the only thing visually separating them, and either Dew or Swiss start jerking off, being a little louder and perhaps a little more showy, letting the curtain on their side be open just enough that you wouldn't directly see what they were doing, but it'd be obvious by the movement of their arm and the soft moans from their lips.

Phantoms heard sex on the bus plenty of times, and bites on a whimper as he starts to grind a little against the mattress. But what's different is that after a moment he hears his name on a sigh and he freezes, eyes bulging open, thinking he's been caught. But no, there's no other movement besides soft 'schlicking' sounds. Telltale that someone is getting themselves off.

Phantom's body flashes with heat so strong he gets dizzy, his cock blurting wetly into his underwear, and he actually almost bites through his lip to keep his noises down.

He has to see if he can see, he just has to at this point. As carefully as he can, he scoots close to the curtain, and edges it open just enough so he can peek his eye out and look.

And there's just enough light of passing freeway lights that Phantom can see the profile of either Swiss or Dew; chin to chest and panting softly, gentle moans slipping past their lips every once in a while and of course poor little Phantom can't stop his hips now, not when met with such a vision. As much as his eyes want to slip closed he keeps them open, enraptured with the beauty of the Ghoul across from him.

After what could be seconds or hours—Phantom's mind cant focus on the passage of time of all things with this vision in front of him—the utterance of his name once more catches his attention, and this time he gasps when he sees the other Ghoul tilting their head to look towards his bunk, their eyebrows pinched in desire and longing. Phantom can't help it, he cums right then, an obvious keen slipping past his lips as the force of his orgasm causes him to curl in on himself. He empties cum all over the inside of his briefs, it soaking through and pushed into his sheets by his still humping hips.

Unfortunately he doesn't see the other Ghoul's orgasm, but finally comes back up to Earth after another period of time he can't account for. His bunk curtain pulls back suddenly, and he almost shrieks, but he watches at the other Ghoul leans back in his bunk, a satisfied look on his face.

Phantom watches, hardly breathing and petrified at being caught, but either Swiss or Dew just settles back down, a flush of pleasure and exertion still touching their cheeks. They scoot to the edge of the mattress on their side before reaching a lazy hand over the gap of the isle.

The small Quint Ghoul stares from hand to face and back again for several long moments, before the Ghoul across from him offers a fond little smile, and wiggles their fingers in invitation.

Tentatively scooting to the edge of his own bunk, Phantom reaches out with a shaking limb, just far enough to hook fingers with the other Ghoul. He gets a little squeeze and maybe a wink in return, plus a hushed little "we want you" with enough conviction that makes Phantom's heart pound and his face flush up a pretty violet.

Content with his message, the Ghoul across the isle smiles fondly again, and offers a small little peck to the air, and it takes Phantom a moment to realize it's for him. Before he can offer his own in return, the other Ghoul releases his fingers with one more squeeze, and settles down to go to sleep.

Phantom pulls his fingers back and pulls them to his lips, the pads of them still tingling from the contact.

They want him?? They want him.

The giddy little breathless giggle that comes out of his mouth makes the other Ghoul smile.

There, problem solved.

Afterwards Phantom becomes so much more comfortable. Not only does his pack want him physically, but he realizes that they actually do want him there on the tour, in their pack, part of their lives. It gets so much easier after that.

Not to say that doesn't stop Phantom's humping habits of course.

[swansworth]

My High Lady

A Darker!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: You are Rhysand’s mate and he is not afraid to make an example out of any who dare harm you. And you are more than happy to let him stake his claim in front of the gathered crowd. After all, he is as much yours as you are his and they all need to remember that. 

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, public sex, finger-fucking, rougher sex, mild breeding kink, semi-graphic torture and mutilation of a prisoner, biting/marking, Darker!Rhysand, mildly possessive talk

Word Count: 2,638

Author Notes: Just a really delicious idea that popped into my head and I had to get out. Considering this is my first time writing for Rhysand at length, I’m pretty content with this. Special thanks to @bubbles-for-all-of-us​ and @azsazz​ for being so lovely and encouraging me to write this. 

Can now be found on AO3 here.

“I have to pretend to be someone I am not when I’m in the Hewn City,” Rhysand had once said, “Though, I will admit, it’s becoming harder and harder to determine where the real me begins and the persona ends.” 

As you stared at him, his violet eyes almost black with fury, you wondered briefly if there had ever been a persona to begin with. However cruel the being before you seemed to be, you were not afraid. This being was born out of a soul-deep unconditional love for you; you would never be in danger of it. Your gaze returned once more to the elemental currently bound before you. He still smirked, as if he somehow had the upper hand in this twisted game he had thrust upon Rhysand. His mud colored eyes turned to focus on you and your fingers curled into a fist, ready to punch that smug look off his face if need be. 

The growl that tore through Rhysand’s throat then, clawing its way out of his mouth—with a ferocity that you could only describe as carnal—was a clear message that the High Lord of the Night Court was done playing games. Rhysand flicked his wrist in a gesture so slight that to the untrained eye, it would have looked as if he hadn’t even flinched. There was a pause, and the elemental laughed at him, and you, not for the first time, felt a desperate urge to tear the bastard’s throat out with your bare hands. 

The elemental’s laughter died suddenly, rapidly changing into a harsh series of screams as his body was overcome with a dark vicious-looking shadow that pulled and clawed at his flesh, tearing it slowly, mercilessly. Rhysand shot Keir a look and the Steward quickly stepped forward to put a small, opalescent, orb on a pedestal beside the restrained fugitive. A light burst from the orb, cutting through the shadow, projecting for all those present the crimes of the elemental and Rhysand’s violet eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“Elemental you may be, Aldric Firedagger, but surely they taught you not to touch that which does not belong to you in the Elemental Planes?” His tone was deceptively calm and you looked at him, watched rage swirl in those eyes that so often held nothing but love and adoration for you. “You tried to drag my love, my mate, back to that cave you call home, You dared to lay your tainted hands on her, hoping that you could steal her from me and then touch her, claim her, in the most intimate parts of her being. That right is mine. As payment for your despicable actions, we ask you to pay with your hands.”

Aldric pleaded, “Please! I need my hands for my work!” 

Poor thing. 

Rhysand’s voice was clear in your mind, as smooth as velvet and just as comforting. 

He hasn’t realized I’m not going to let him out of here alive. 

You know that he didn’t hurt me, Rhysand. 

You haven’t seen what was in his mind. Believe me when I say hurting you was the kindest thing he had in store for you had Azriel not found you in time. 

Then do what you must, love. 

There was a tug of affection through your bond and you offered a reaffirming tug in return. Aldric’s hands were gone an instant later; sliced neatly by the claw-like shadows. You barely noticed his screams, not when Rhysand was gingerly stroking against the wall you kept up, almost as if to distract you from what was happening. 

Rhys, I knew what I was getting into when I accepted the mating bond. 

I just don’t want you to see more than you have to. 

You said that we would do everything together. I intend to endure this together as well. 

You could almost see Rhysand’s smile in your mind. 

That’s my girl.

His attention shifted back to Aldric. For his part, Aldric had stopped sobbing as if he had accepted the weight and consequences of his actions. There was a look in his brown eyes you couldn’t quite place and it was only after he spoke that you knew what it was. “Do your worst half-breed.” 

Facing death had made Aldric bold. His challenging words caused a ripple through the court, a wave of gasped breaths reverberated against the carved stone walls. Fire elemental or not, you had never seen such a blazing look on Aldric’s face before and for a moment you worried that he was going to burst, to scorch you all to Hell. Rhysand, however, was unfazed. 

“They say that it is a sin to covet, Firedagger. Yet, with your eyes you have lusted after many beings, my mate included. Fantasies of passion, both sexual and murderous have filled your gaze and thoughts. I have seen it. It’s all there in your mind, unprotected and exposed. Tell me, Aldric, why is that?” 

“I have nothing to hide. I am not ashamed of my desires, no matter how dark and corrupted they may seem to be.” The burning was still there in his gaze as he lifted his head and squared his shoulders. He was emboldened and reckless and one quick glance to Rhysand’s carefully composed face told you that Aldric had just made his last move in this twisted game of theirs.

“For those crimes, we ask you to pay with your eyes,” Rhysand’s voice was deep, powerful, and you shuddered against him as the shadows made quick work of utterly wrecking Aldric’s eyes. His scream fell on deaf ears, none caring that this measly elemental was being torn apart by the High Lord. 

You supposed it said quite a lot about who you had become that rather than be disgusted by this torturous, public, punishment you felt aroused. There was an undeniable heat pooling between your thighs as you watched your mate’s stronger, darker magic—the magic that made him the High Lord—tear this insignificant being apart piece by piece. It was a graphic display, a goreish show, that had many turning away. Even there in the Hewn City, it was almost too horrifying. You, however, could see it for what it truly was. In the most twisted way, it was a demonstration not only of the High Lord's true power, but of the undying, unconditional love he felt for you, his mate, his High Lady.

Try as you may, you couldn’t ignore that burning heat within you, that flame of arousal. You worried your lower lip between your teeth as you debated what to do. The logical solution was to be as patient as you were able; Rhysand always took such good care of you, knew exactly how to use his mouth, fingers, and cock to make you sing in pleasure. However, a larger part of you wanted to have him right there, audience be damned. Let them see. Let them all see how well Rhysand claimed you and how he was hopelessly yours as much as you were undeniably his. 

It was a thought that certainly had its merits. 

Your fingers wandered down the expanse of your abdomen, around your hip to your lower back where the fastens that held your skirt together resided. With a practiced ease you worked them open, sighing in relief as the immense amount of fabric fell down, pooling at your feet. You stepped out of the skirt, pushing it aside with your foot, and were happy that the cloak Rhysand had insisted on wearing was large enough to cover your now nude lower half.

You brought your hand back around to the small patch of hair resting just above your slick folds, dragging your fingers down to press against your entrance. A low hiss escaped you as they slipped in with ease, surprised by how wet you were already. Your gaze locked onto the slowly diminishing form of Aldric, each scream that erupted from his mouth sending a shiver down your spine because you knew that he was suffering because he dared to look at and touch something that was forbidden to him.

The scent of your arousal was evident to everyone present; they could smell your slick as you worked yourself open, quivering against your mate’s side and moaning into the darkness. You felt Rhysand’s grip on you tighten and all but shivered as he turned dark, hungry eyes towards you. He flicked his wrist again, his gaze solely focused on your face, and he watched as your pupils dilated with a desperate need at the sound of Aldric’s tormented wails. You could so clearly see the depravity in his violet eyes and eagerly met it with your own. It was a look that said I see you and I love you and accept you and Rhysand let out an almost choked sound at the sight of it. 

You gasped as Rhysand turned to face you fully, pulling you close and grinding your bodies together as he bent down to lick his way into your mouth. His left hand wandered down the planes of your skin, joining your own at your dripping cunt. You cried out, using your free hand to grab onto the front of his tunic as he pressed one, two, three of his thick fingers into you, thrusting in and out alongside your own smaller digits. 

You chanced a look back at Aldric and watched as his arm slowly came undone in perfect synchronization with Rhysand’s own gentle touch to your arm. The same happened again as Rhysand dragged his hand up to grip your chin, forcing you to look back at him as he surged forward and captured your mouth once more, his other hand still fucking you open relentlessly. The knowledge that for every inch of you that Rhysand touched Aldric would lose that part simultaneously produced an especially delicious-smelling gush of slick from you and you moaned as Rhysand brought an utterly soaked hand to his mouth and licked it clean.

“Rhys,” you pleaded, sighing in relief when his fingers entered you once more, “Please. Claim me. Mate me again. Show them we are equals.” The implication of your words was understood by all in attendance and Rhysand, who normally took a pause to verify you truly wanted to be ravaged so thoroughly by him, unleashed a sound that was positively bestial as he gripped the corset and blouse you were wearing and tore them asunder.

His hands gripped your waist, dragging you down to the ground with him, into the dust beneath your feet. It was a filthy thing, one that to many would be seen as unfit for a fae of his standing, but neither of you cared. The ferocity with which Rhysand flipped you around, edging you onto your hands and knees—soaked entrance on display like a bitch in heat—sent a full body shudder through you, getting a thrill at seeing your mate so unhinged.

The sound of Rhysand untying the fastens of his trousers was familiar and you pressed back harder against him, hoping to feel some of the cock you knew he was freeing. You could feel yourself gushing, slick spilling out of you as Rhysand rubbed the head of his thick cock against your wet entrance. Rhysand’s normally calm outward appearance was ripped away as Aldric let out a particularly blood curdling cry, his body disintegrating as Rhysand fucked into you in one fluid movement. 

The lack of care you felt in that moment for Aldric should have, perhaps, frightened you. But the sight of his body blasting apart and then dissolving into ash and dust sent a shiver down your spine. It was a brutal, grotesque, thing, but it was a sign that your mate loved you, truly, madly, deeply. If the visual display from the High Lord of Night was not enough, the way he took you, claimed you, in front of all present, was another reminder. 

You took in that glorious cock, moaning at the curve of it. It was a proud, thick, thing and you shuddered as you felt it throb within you. Then, you rocked back against Rhysand, urging him on, wanting more. The base part of your brain, that seemed fond of taking over whenever Rhysand was more feral, was desperate to be glutted with his seed, to be bred and filled with a new life in front of the ashen remains of someone who thought they could have you.

Rhysand was a bestial thing, his grip on your hips firm, keeping you still as he pounded into you. Growls tore out of his throat as his mouth moved against your flesh, biting and sucking all over to mark you, to show any who dared look that you had a lover, a mate, and that he had staked his claim. You were helpless, only able to angle your body to make the slide of his cock easier, allowing him deeper. The speed with which he took you was nearly too much, yet you were thriving, your muscles convulsing around him as he drove into you. 

He thrust in deep and perfect and you threw your head back, exposing more of your neck to his mouth. You screamed your pleasure, and pleaded for him to continue, begged for him to finally claim you. He bit down and your’s eyes widened in surprise as you felt a sudden surge of his power course through your veins, pulsing through every inch of your being. His tongue darted out to lick at the traces of blood seeping out of his claiming mark and you hissed in delight at the sensation. 

“I love you. You rare, beautiful thing. My mate, my wife, my High Lady.” Rhysand’s voice was barely recognizable, more of a growl than anything else. His hips stuttered as he spoke and he bit down once more as he emptied himself into you. The feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, stuffing you full of him, had you screaming as you came at last. 

Rhysand’s mouth was licking and kissing along the mark he had made and you groaned as he shifted. You could feel him in every fiber of your being and finally felt complete. ‘This’, you thought, ‘this is what I was missing.’ Rhysand hoisted you up with ease, standing with you still stuffed full of his cock and seed. He moved you slowly, turning you so your legs could wrap around his waist and you wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it must have looked to your audience, but refrained. Instead, you gasped once more as Rhysand carefully pulled out, his cum leaking out of you and onto the ground below. 

What a waste. 

You couldn’t help but hum in agreement. Though that was a conversation for another time. 

Rhysand’s hands were on your rear, keeping you supported as he looked around at the group surrounding you. There was a dangerous look in his eyes again, silently reminding them all to stay in their place. 

“Someone clean up this mess,” Rhysand snapped, his voice rough and guttural and you delighted at the sound of it, “The High Lady and I are going to retire for the evening.” The High Lady. You grinned wildly at the sound of that. It was merely a title at the end of the day, but it spoke volumes and told all the fae in attendance that you were their ruler, that you were his equal and were not to be trifled with. 

“Thank you, my darling,” You whispered against the shell of one of his pointed ears, your tone sincere and full of the love you held for him. You peppered kisses along his handsome face, neck, and shoulder and Rhysand gave an approving hum before whispering a promise, “For you, my love, my life, anything.” 

[wtfdemother]

Give me a little love…

CW: Day 3 of Kinktober 👻🤝 fair warning for the following: dubious consent + non-con voyeurism + public masturbation + mentions of stalking. König is a lovesick dog. NSFW

The air is crisp and cold on the skin, the moon bathes the forest floor in a white, glowing light. The bitterness of autumn sets in.

He hates himself for this.

He hates that he’s so awkward in his ways that he can’t even come up to you and ask you out proper. You were a joy to be with, sometimes. Other times, he cursed your insubordination, often wondering how you got this far with all your quips and brashness. Perhaps it was because you ruled with an iron fist. “It’s my truth,” you’d say, “I say it as I see it.” He liked that, he respected that you stood your ground, loved it even. He cherished every bit of interaction he had with you.

His large frame stalks the dirt road, out of the tree line to your house. A lump forms in his throat and he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the slow descent of his saliva. You’re home, he can see it as he crouches, eyeing the window that frames you. He sneaks up to your porch, pressing his broad shoulders up against the white wood, his temple sweaty with nerves. König’s heart is in his mouth, nevermind his throat—he’s ready to vomit. His ears ring with discomfort, was the world always spinning so fast? What is he doing, spying on the one he loves the most? This is insane, he thinks, she’s your coworker, it’s immoral, it’s shameless; depraved even, it’s—

Wunderschöne.

It’s everything he’s wished for, hoped for in finding love. He stills himself in the bushes, captivated by you. Or maybe it was the way your living room light bathed your surroundings in a nice, warm, orange hue that gave you that extra hint of coziness he longed for. You’re dancing to love songs, singing with a wooden spoon in hand while something delicious simmers on the stove. Steam wafts through the air, transporting the smell of home cooked food to the porch door left slightly ajar. It hits König’s nostrils, going straight to his stomach. It pulls a longing sigh from him, you looked so at peace like this, pouring all of your love and attention into the things you do because you seemingly had an abundance of it.

He’d do anything to get a crumb. He’d stoop low, lick whatever you had to offer off the floor.

For now, he’s content pretending he was right beside you while you eat, huddled in the corner of the couch with your blankets and your bowl of food. He can’t see what you’re watching from this angle, how he wishes he could. How he wishes he was the one you were cuddling against and not some uncomfortable armrest. It was unfair.

It was unfair how he’d have to resort to fisting his cock in the cold, open air while you whine and fuss on the couch, legs spread wide as your fingers try to curl up against that particularly spongy spot in your weeping cunt. It was disheartening, your fingers brushing just barely, almost like a feather-like touch on the spot you so desperately wanted to reach. But you couldn’t, and it frustrate König as much as it did you.

He got off on it, his thumb carefully smearing his precum all over the tip, slowly pumping out more until his shaft was coated with slick and sheen. He got whiny, he wanted more; needed more. Carefully, silently, König rose from the bushes and padded his way onto the patio, getting closer to your muffled sounds. He nestles himself just below the large, wide window leading into the living room, where he can hear everything clearly.

“König…” His name. He almost topples over the edge. A hand quickly clasps over his mouth, a deep, wanting whine arose from his chest. You say his name like a prayer, it fell from your lips with such devotion. “König—König, I need you… I need you so bad…” Squelching noises and moans all travel straight to his ears and down his twitching dick, König begins to fist himself in fervour to the rhythm of your fingers plunging deep in your sopping pussy. Your cries like honey.

“I’m here, Liebchen…I’m right here…” His hips buck into his hand, lost in the image of giving you the release you deserved while chasing his. “But you don’t get to cum yet…not yet, meine liebe, not yet…! Liebling!” With a shuddering rasp, König comes undone, spewing thick ropes of his potent seed on your porch.

He had the time to collect himself, feel the breeze on his softened cock, and still he could hear your pleads for release above. He tuts, “Meine liebling… don’t worry, I got you…”

He decided to call you. On his knees peaking through the window, watching you squirm while you panic over where you last put your phone. Your eyes narrow on the buzzing device on the table, with your clean hand and chest heaving, you answer it.

“H-hello?” You try not to sound too out of breath, König’s baby blues land on your hand still cupping your mound.

“Coworker!” He’d say just to bug, revelling on how your shoulders would slump upon hearing his voice.

“König,” your voice was like a balm to his ears, his cock twitched in his hand. “It’s late, boss. What’re you calling me so late for?”

He’s caught in a box, he doesn’t know what to say. König’s at a loss for words, and the only ones he can think of are the truth. “I… I missed hearing your voice.” He admits slowly, his words hushed. “I miss being with you, ——.”

He rarely says your name, you take it as a sign. The syllables that fell off his lips pool straight into the warmth below your belly, you press your lips into a fine line. “Why don’t you come over?”

He’ll be on his way before you even know it too.

[duskier]

cw dubcon / noncon voyeurism

Ghost keeps fucking you in the safe houses at night. He swears none of the other men can hear you guys despite all uncomfortably packed into one small room, they all sleep like the dead. Just let him fuck you a little, he swears he can't sleep without it. Peeling your sleep pants off to pull you onto his lap, making you ride him reverse cowgirl.

Spearing you on his cock and you're clapping a hand over your mouth from how full you feel in this position, hips jerking when you feel Ghost grab your ass in the dark. He's thrusting his hips up and into you, all you can do is lean back against him and take it. Trying to keep your mouth quiet but you can't control the lewd schlicking noise that accompanies every thrust.

You're getting fucked too good, too deep to notice Gaz stroking his cock slow and thorough under his blanket, to see Soap’s eyes glinting in the moonlight staring you down as he ruts into his makeshift bed, to catch Price as he's cupping his balls and rolling his hips to thrust into his other hand.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ mine | tommy hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; texas chainsaw massacre remake/ the beginning

♡ characters; thomas hewitt

♡ reader; AFAB body description, second person POV

♡ cw; graphic sexual content, implied voyeurism, breeding kink, light daddy kink (just calling him daddy? wasn’t sure what to tag that )

♡notes; i feel the need to apologize for this one lmao. i didn’t intend for this to see the light of day but i felt we needed more smut around here and this was already sittin in my personal folder

i don’t know that I’ve ever posted detailed smut anywhere before? so lmk how i did, i still haven’t even asked to get my friend to beta read so I’m sure There’s Issues.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

“Oh fuck, baby,” You sighed softly, letting your head roll to the side as you ground on Thomas’ thigh - the mountain of a man pushing his leg up with a huff. Luda-Mae, Monty, and Hoyt had taken a rare trip to their cousins’ place upstate, and left Thomas and yourself in a…sticky situation.

It had already become a war of attrition with you living there, each of you testing the other’s boundaries as you tried desperately not to cross the line. Thomas was allegedly a good, Bible-following boy- and you a shy little virgin . But god, something about Thomas just made you crazy. You needed him- and you’d gotten so shameless that you’d let him do just about anything to you.

That’s what landed you there, trying to entice Thomas and only ending up a squeaky mess as you rode his thigh. He was steadfast for a man years pent up- seeming to find great pleasure in making you unravel without cracking himself. Of course, you had no idea of the hours he spent fucking into his own hand as he imagined you around him, stealing your panties from the laundry bin and palming himself to the sight of you splayed out sunbathing in the yard. Even now you seemed too hazy to notice his cock straining against his trousers, or his fingers dug into the couch to prevent himself from touching your body. The way he trembled as he felt you making a mess on him, the only thing between your slick cunt and his leg your already soaked lacy panties…

His laser focus was broken by something entirely unexpected. You whimpered and hid your face against his chest, mumbling “Daddy- please—“

He wasn’t sure if it was the phrase,the tone, or both that finally broke his resolve- but either way he pinned you against the floral sofa forcefully, snarling like an animal.

“T-tommy- what- I’m sorry—?” You squeaked, seeming utterly confused. Did you even know what you’d said to him?

He growled and quickly signed ‘Again’. You blinked, perplexed look quickly replaced with embarrassment. You whined and tried to hide your face but he snarled again and made you look at him. ‘Again. Now.’

“…daddy. Please. Please I need you. Please—“ You begged, panting weakly as you writhed uncomfortably and unsated.

He rutted against you quickly, moving and kissing your neck sloppily. “Mine,” He rasped quietly, a rare sound even for his partner “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“Oh my god Tommy- please- I need you to give it to me- I wanna feel you inside-“

He made quick work of his belt, pushing your dress up carelessly and making just as quick a job out of ripping your undies clean apart.

You yelped but replaced the complaint with a blissed out, shuddering whine as he finally rubbed against your bare pussy. “Oh fuck…please- put it in-“

He grunted and pushed your legs back, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours as you felt his weight pressed against you. Even in this moment, he tried his damndest to be gentle, looking your face over for the slightest bit of fear or apprehension. “Tommy, please. Fuck me.” You whimpered out softly.

He pushed in carefully , having to stop only halfway in as you squeezed around him. He was huge, long and girthy and a painful stretch even with you relaxed. He gave a grunt and nuzzled you, hips twitching as he reached between you. Clumsily, roughly, he found your clit and slowly rubbed, purring in approval as you mewled out his name.

He was able to jerk his hips and finally bottomed out with a low groan, face buried in your neck. He held still, taking a ragged breath to try to regain control- but you didn’t want control. You needed him to lose it completely.

“Daddy, please. I want you to fuck a baby into me,” You murmured, letting a desperate whine leak into your voice. It was a bit of a long shot- but he was so possessive. Why wouldn’t he want to breed you?

Thomas’ eyes darkened at the thought and he gave a low noise you could barely classify as he pulled nearly all the way out and snapped his hips, setting a brutal pace.

“Oh god-“ You yelped, bracing yourself on his huge arms as he pounded into you, the entire couch creaking and slamming into the wall at the force. You lost any coherence you had as he again teased your clit, mind blank. You got exactly what you wanted, and it was too much in the best way possible.

You came first- you didn’t know if it was because of his stamina or because even in a frenzy he still needed you to feel just as good. You were almost crying as he continued, overwhelmed and overstimulated - and wrapping your legs around his waist to make sure he didn’t stop for a moment. “Baby please- inside- I want you to finish inside-“ You mewled out in your haze- but damn if you didn’t mean it.

That was all it took, unsurprisingly, for him to thrust one last time and fill you with a snarl. He peppered your face in soft kisses, giving a heaving sigh as he relaxed. You tried to move but he growled, keeping himself firmly inside of you. You blushed a bit as you saw his intense expression “You ah…you really liked when I asked you to knock me up, huh?”

He nodded, huffing at you.

“…you know we have all night to try again, yeah?”

He grunted and finally relented, pulling out and smirking at the sight of his seed dripping down your thighs.

“Tommy baby? I love you.” You sighed sleepily

He looked up quickly and seemed shocked. Man of few words that he ways- and never having dreamed he’d need to learn the sign, he took your hand and pressed it against his chest. Right above the heart. In your mind, there was no better way he could have said it; he loved you too.

[matchingbatbites]

cw: non-con voyeurism

Listen, Steve hadn’t meant to see it.

He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary; going over to Eddie’s place unannounced was normal at this point, something to be expected really. Especially since Robin is out of town this week, gone with her parents to visit family out of state. It's become commonplace for Steve to come over after his shift, late enough that Wayne had already left for his own job.

Steve lets himself into the new trailer like he usually does, and smiles at the sound of Eddie’s music coming from behind his bedroom door. Toeing off his shoes is practically second nature, even though he knows the Munsons don’t care, and he drops his keys on the kitchen counter as he passes it on his way to Eddie’s room.

The music isn’t as loud as Eddie usually plays it, and there’s already a comment about it brewing in his mouth as he opens the door. Instead Steve freezes in the archway, is thoroughly held in place by the sight before him. 

Eddie is laying on his stomach, his cheek pressed to the plush pillow held tight in his arms, as his hips steadily grind into another slotted between his legs. Steve’s eyes are locked on the way he rubs against the pillow, the motion steady but with a desperate edge that makes Steve feel hot all over. 

He’s wearing boxers but his back is on display, a plane of smooth, pale skin occasionally interrupted by pink scars. Steve wants to kiss the knobs of his spine, wants to lick over his shoulder blades and bite into the back of his neck, hold him in place as he- 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie moans, the sound cutting though Steve’s thoughts and the music still playing. “Fucking- ah, please please please.”

Steve’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his grip almost painful as Eddie - all of him, the sight, the sound - goes straight to his dick. He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be seeing this.

He’s unable to move though, completely stuck in place as he watches the object of his desires dry hump a fucking pillow and somehow make it the hottest thing Steve’s ever seen.

Eddie is whimpering and whining, Steve can hear it when he focuses, listening for it under the music. He wants to shove his fingers in Eddie’s mouth, wants to know if he sounds just as needy with a cock down his throat.

A spike of terror rips through Steve as Eddie groans out a “Please, I’m- Steve,” and it takes him a second to realize that Eddie hasn’t noticed him, he’s fantasizing about him. It takes every ounce of Steve’s willpower to not just pounce, to not slot himself behind Eddie and rut against his ass the way Eddie is doing to that poor, lucky pillow.

Eddie’s desperate noises reach a peak and his hips stutter as he gasps, high and sharp. Steve only gives himself a second to watch Eddie come before he steps back, closing the door as quietly as he can. He stumbles away from it and fumbles to get his shoes back on, barely remembering to grab his keys on his way out of the home. 

Steve is burning with desire as he climbs back into his car, thinks vaguely about the time Dustin tried to explain spontaneous human combustion to him and wonders if this is how it feels, this crackling, sparking heat underneath his skin.

He’s thankful for the cover of night as he shoves his hand into his pants and strips his cock in short, fast strokes, too desperate to wait, the image of Eddie too fresh in his mind-

Steve comes in almost no time, paints the inside of his briefs because he hadn’t even bothered to pull his dick out. He slumps back into the seat as he tries to catch his breath, tries to figure out his next move.

He’s had a crush on Eddie for a while, one he’s refused to act on because he couldn’t tell if Eddie felt the same, if his teasing and flirting was genuine or just all jokes.

But now he knows. He saw Eddie come with Steve’s name on his lips and he knows.

[murdrdocs]

non con voyeurism; explicit sexual content & dark content MDNI

ghostface!luke who notices that your showers are often late and long.

he starts sneaking in there with you, lurking outside of your stall, ear as close as he can get so he can hear you over the sounds of water falling.

usually, your showers start off innocent, and luke is fine with waiting. patience has become a proficient skill for him lately. and his patience pays off because eventually you get to the part that takes up most of your showers. eventually, your fingers slide between your legs and you please yourself, letting every moan and whine and breath resonate off of the tile walls, fully believing that you’re alone at this point in the night. 

he palms himself while he listens. sometimes, if he’s brave enough, he’ll slip his cock out of his pants and shamelessly fuck his fist to the sound of your moans.

most nights, there’s no name woven in between your pretty sounds. but then there’s the one night, the one fateful night, where you’re whispering luke’s name in the prettiest chant. gods, he’s so fucking addicted to that sound. he had let his eyes close and imagined that he was in there making you feel good, instead of standing mere feet away from you in the shadows like a creep. but he was a creep, and he would continue his endeavors so long as it led him to being able to hear you in your most intimate moments. 

[sugurouge]

cw! slight stalking, obsession, yearning, minor voyeurism, jealousy

Yamato Endo has no interest in Hajime Umemiya. He doesn't care about meeting him in a fight, he couldn't care less about acknowledging the silver haired male and this new pristine glory. However, Endo has a raging interest in Umemiya's cute girlfriend. Piercing blues searching for you in the crowd whenever he feels like watching Bofurin and what they have now turned into from afar.

He dislikes the peaceful order they have established. Despises the serene atmosphere around the grounds as he witnesses the garden party. Hates how you stand with Umemiya, looking all lovey dovey all because you don't know what good awaits you once they've lost. You will have to choose Endo, you know that, right?

His hands could hold you just as good—, No, no, scratch that, he'd hold you way better. Much closer against him. He'd appreciate every inch of your body; nails digging, fingertips dragging, hands grabbing as much as possible of you. He'd kiss you in front of everyone to see. Long, deep kisses that would steal your rationality, he would never be too shy for that. He'd make a show for everyone to see, turning you into a babbling, begging mess with smeared lip gloss and clouded eyes. You'd look so fucking cute, his cute princess, not Umemiya's.

He'd make you say his name with the highest praises, moaning it for the world to hear every night. Yeah, that's what he would do, Endo thinks, hand palming himself through his jeans as he stands on this random rooftop, fully ignoring the guy beside you. He really needs to get you away from your restraints.

Yamato Endo has zero interest in Hajime Umemiya, but he is obsessed with his girlfriend, you.

my thoughts are all consumed but those two, take me out.

[miasmaghoul]

Considering the idea of quintessence ghouls being able to make themselves invisible. They can just sort of...shimmer out of view if they focus their power enough. Like how Swiss can melt into shadow, quintessence ghouls can bend and fold light to vanish themselves. Not an ability they make common knowledge, of course, but they all use it in different ways.

Imagine Omega, always at Terzo's side even when he can't be seen. A protector, a stalwart and silent companion devoted to keeping his beloved Papa safe from any who would dare to threaten. It makes them think that Terzo has power beyond what any Papa has had before - how else could you explain someone being thrown across a room with no more than a wave of his gloved hand? It's exhausting for Omega, requires a bit of a recovery period, but that's alright. Terzo cares for him in the aftermath every time, just as devoted to his ghoul as Omega is to his Papa. The only other person who knows of this skill is Sister Imperator, and Omega likes to keep it that way.

Imagine Aether, learning the same trick from his mentor but using it more to keep himself sane. It's not something he does frequently, he finds it incredibly draining and has too many responsibilities to make it a common occurrence. But some days the abbey is just too loud, and there's nowhere for him to go without being pestered by siblings, clergy members and anyone else who's decided they need his attention. So he just...disappears for a while. He could be sitting on the couch plain as day and no one would be the wiser. It's incredibly freeing, on the rare occasion he puts it to use. He does it even less post-retirement, most of his magickal resources poured into healing others, but once in a while he'll still indulge. Sneak off to the library for a quiet cup of tea and dissappear between the stacks for a bit. Copia, Dew and Aeon always know where to find him, though - but they don't go searching. They all know that, if Aether needs isolation, there is no reason to interrupt.

Aeon, though, is a different breed of quint.

Curious as a kitten and with more power than he knows what to do with, he frequently uses his invisibility for more nefarious purposes. Sneaks into the human wing for panty raids, scours the kitchens when he gets too high but has already hit his snack quota, even wanders into the parts of the abbey that are off-limits to everyone but the higher-ups.

His favorite thing, though, is his ability to be a nasty little freak with no one being the wiser. It makes him the worst sort of voyeur, sneaky and with no regard for privacy. He peeps on everyone, through cracked doorframes, keyholes and open windows, in plain sight but still unseen.

One day, mid-afternoon, he hears a familiar series of soft but drawn out moans. Aeon cloaks himself immediately, already chubbing up and giving himself a shameless grope. It's not like anyone can see, after all. He pads down the hall to find Rain's door halfway open, those lovely sounds pouring through the gap. It's accompanied by what can only be called a rhythmic squelching sound, and Aeon licks his lips as he peeks around the doorframe.

Where he finds Rain, knelt in front of the ornate floor-length mirror that lives by his closet, naked as the day he was summoned and flushed right down his pale chest. He moves like water, spread thighs tensing and relaxing as he rides what Aeon recognizes as one of Swiss' preferred dildos. Rain has his tail wrapped around the base, hands free to explore every inch of himself. He's beautiful always, but like this - admiring his own reflection while pinching his lovely pink nipples, elegant fingers tracing the lines of his own throat, sliding down to give his cock slow pulls that have him leaking a puddle onto the hardwood floor - Rain isn't just beautiful. He's lust itself, sin incarnate, and Aeon has to get closer.

He leans just inside the door, in a warm patch of sunlight that paints Rain in golden hues. Hard as a rock and pulsing in his boxers, Aeon presses the heel of his hand to his crotch and starts to hump. Matches the rolls of his hips to Rain's slow bounces, picturing his own cock sliding into that slick hole and biting his lip when a soft moan threatens to escape. He may be unseen, but he can certainly still be heard.

Rain's clearly been at this for a while, judging by the sweat glistening along his brow and making his luscious curls stick to the back of his neck, and soon enough he starts to bounce faster. Little punched out grunts fill the air, the slick sound of his hand and hole making Aeon's balls ache, and he feels himself drool down his chin when Rain gasps. Leans back on one hand so he can sink down fully onto that thick toy, getting it deep inside, just where he needs it. He's panting, hand flying over his cock, and Aeon has to lean harder against the wall lest his own knees give out.

With a half dozen more tugs, Rain's mouth drops open and they both watch him squirt his load all over that shiny surface. Aeon's right there with him, biting his knuckles until he tastes iron as he soaks a stain into his undies. He shivers through it, eyes crossing, cussing to himself when he watches Rain reach out to drag two fingers through the mess he made. With a soft chuckle he licks it up, sighing happily, and Aeon lets his eyes slip shut while he catches his breath.

"Want a taste?"

Aeon's eyes shoot open, jaw going tense, and in slow motion he watches the shadows in the corner by the window coalesce into something solid.

Swiss leisurely strides over to the mirror, the bulge in his jeans incredibly obvious, and takes hold of Rain's wrist. Laps up the last drops dribbling down his fingers as Rain leans in to nuzzle at his straining cock. Swiss' rusty purr kicks up as he sinks his own fingers into Rain's hair, scratching at his sweaty nape.

"Did such a good job, angelfish," Swiss lilts, Rain's tail giving a happy little swish as it unwinds from the dildo still inside him. "You just love bein' watched, huh?"

Rain hums his agreement, lazily mouthing at the thick outline of Swiss through his pants. Wraps an arm around his thigh so he can really rub his face all over it. Aeon heaves a silent sigh of relief; as much as he would love to watch Rain swallow Swiss down, he's all sticky in his shorts and getting less and less comfy as the moments pass. He straightens up, lets the debaucherous sight of the pair of them burn itself into his brain, and finally tiptoes back towards the hall.

"Leaving so soon?"

Aeon freezes, whole body flushing hot and cold at Swiss' words. It takes him a thousand years to look back over his shoulder, and he finds golden eyes sparkling with intent fixed on his invisible form. Aeon gawps at him, and Swiss grins. Rain doesn't seem bothered in the slightest, dragging his tongue up Swiss' fly.

"You're not as slick as you think, kid," Swiss chuckles, dark and with just enough of an edge to give Aeon goosebumps. Rain giggles, crooks a finger at his hidden form, and Aeon whimpers.

"Who else knows?" His voice cracks when he asks, and Swiss barks out a laugh.

"Lock the door and get over here," Swiss orders him in lieu of an answer, "but I don't want to see you until that cute little dick is nice and hard again."

Oh, he's in so much trouble.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 Only you can see me, but...

Voyeurism CW: Dub-con, yandere!ghost, public sex, invisible attacker, non-con , public humiliation

"Stop ignoring me." The spirit threatened, glaring at (Reader) with his one good eye.

(Reader) had begun seeing the spirit nearly a month ago after visiting a little antique shop, and since then he hasn't left their side. The bus jolted, and everyone rocked in their seats, bumping into one another. It wasn't the giant gunshot wound to the dead man's head, the missing chunk of skull and brain, that made (Reader) ignore him, but the fact that they were on a crowded bus. They usually did interact with the needy ghost, just not in public. However, whenever (Reader) was out of the house, the man acted like (Reader) was an awful, terrible person.

The man who refused to give his name groaned, unfazed by the standing people phasing through his form at the bus swayed at the red light. "Stop ignoring me, (Reader). It isn't nice."

They looked up at him and narrowed their eyes, silently trying to get him to take the hint. He wasn't having it, getting louder as he started throwing a fit.

"Fine. Let's see how long you can ignore me." He dropped to his knees and climbed inside of (Reader), nestling partially inside their body as though they were sitting in his lap. "Only you can see me, but they can all see you."

(Reader) let out an embarrassing noise of surprise, feeling a hard cock rub between their ass cheeks inside of their underwear. The squeak gained the attention of one of the older gentleman standing right in front of their seat, glancing down at them in mild interest. They slapped a hand over their mouth and squeezed their eyes shut.

The ghostly appendage began rubbing against their crotch, making (Reader) hot and flustered. They wanted to whisper at him, tell him to knock it off, but they were beyond mortified at the idea of someone assuming they were on drugs. So he continued, taking advantage of (Reader's) anxiety to spread his slimy ectoplasmic pre-cum in their underpants.

When the tip pressed against their hole their eyes involuntarily fluttered open, gasping as he effortlessly pressed himself into them, stretching (Reader) open. A woman sitting next to (Reader) shifted uncomfortably, looking over at the young adult pressing their thighs together and tearing up.

Although it was only two people side eyeing (Reader) it felt as though all eyes were on them as they were violated in front of them. Not restricted by physical constraints, the spirit was able to forcefully fuck (Reader) without moving their body at all, only feeling the hard intrusion of a dick ram into their sensitive spot and the strange feeling of his balls slapping against their ass as he pounded their twitching muscles.

They were horrifically aware of their uneven breathing; the way their eyes kept drifting whenever their supposed friend hit their swelling nerve; the sweat dripping down their burning flesh; and how the man in front of them looked like he knew exactly why (Reader) was a squirming mess.

"Ah, I'm getting close!" He cried out in their ear as his movements fastened and became irregular.

They had to bite their inner cheek to prevent themselves from begging him not to, wondering if anyone could hear the wet slapping noise of their ass rippling as his sex hit their deepest parts.

The man standing in front of (Reader) looked a little pink on the face, tugging on his pants. The shame of being seen by other people made (Reader) tighten up, exciting the spirit more. "Do you like being watched?" He teased, biting down on their neck.

"no.." (Reader) accidentally whined, feeling eyes on them from all sides as they fought to not orgasm themselves.

But their fighting was for nothing, cumming hard as a cold, sticky fluid shot up into their body, overflowing around the spirit's dick and coating (Reader's) underwear, drenching through the thin fabric and sticking to the inside of their pants.

The spirit pulled himself out, releasing the rest of his ectoplasm like pulling a plug, leaking out of (Reader's) swollen hole onto the public seat. He pressed his lips through their hand, kissing (Reader) directly on the lips as they released the tears that had been threatening to spill.

The worst part was seeing everyone around them, glaring at (Reader) with disgust or arousal, made their nipples erect, to humiliated to admit that their watching them climax in public felt exciting...

[honeysickledream]

i need laswell like the ocean needs water so here's some horny ramblings:

Pairing: Kate Laswell x F!Reader (you're her assistant) word count: 332 Tags / CW : smut, mentions of smoking, free use kink, established dynamic, cunnilingus, strap-on sex (idk how else to word it), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, office sex, implication of shower sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, aftercare, Kate refers to reader as ‘pet’ one (1) time | if i missed anything lmk

ngl I bet it would be amazing to be Kate’s assistant that she just uses whenever she wants/needs. She’s trying to stop smoking but her oral fixation (part of the whole reason she started smoking) gets too distracting sometimes and the end of her pen just doesn’t satisfy her need. She sends you a message and you’re darting into her office. You clear your usual spot on her desk and let her eat you out until the persistent need to do something with her mouth becomes manageable—but don’t stray too far, she’ll probably need you again in few minutes.

Oh, and if she gets too pent up to focus on her paperwork? She’s motioning for you to follow her as she hightails it to the bathroom she knows is clear (she put up janitor tape about an hour ago to dissuade anyone from using it, luckily there's another bathroom about a hallway down) and pushes you to your knees once the stall door is closed. Her hands grip the sides of your head, guiding you while she grinds against your face until she cums. She makes sure to wipe your face off with one of the wet wipes she keeps in her wallet for just this occasion (she's nothing if not prepared),

Bonus:

She takes you to her home when the usual office/bathroom shenanigans aren’t enough and fucks you with her strap until you’re limp and blissed out on her really comfy bed, then she has you watch as she fucks herself until she’s satisfied (she knows just how much it excites you, and how much it excites her). She cleans you up so sweetly and gently, too: praising you to heaven and back for being such a good pet for her, always so eager, always doing such a good job. You wake up to a full breakfast in bed and Kate off-handedly mentioning that she should bring you home more often before she hops in the shower. She leaves the bathroom door ajar and there's a towel beside hers on the counter--her expectations are obvious.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | let’s get kinky

♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, The Boy, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; graphic sexual content, kink content

♡notes; pretty much just kink lists babey

oh boy i hope this doesn’t reveal anything about me

also happy easter lol

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Micheal Myers

> Knifeplay and breathplay are a given with this one

> He likes to be in complete control

> And a hand around the throat or a blade ghosting the skin definitely help him achieve that

> He also loves both tying you up and being tied up, surprisingly

> Letting you ride him while he’s tied to the bed is just about the only way you’ll get the man to relinquish any of that control

> And even then he makes sure you know he’s still the boss- if you’re too much of a brat he’s slipping the restraints and fucking you so hard you walk funny after

> He loves marking you up, mostly through biting

> And he likes to keep the mask on- even if he’s at a point where he rarely wears it around you

> He’ll quietly degrade you if you’re into that- you have to earn praise though

> But if you praise him you may actually be able to fluster him for once

Thomas Hewitt

> Breeding kink breeding kink breeding kink you can’t convince me otherwise

> He loves pinning you down into a mating press and watching your face as he fills you

> He’s so rough and overwhelming

> He likes to lick away your tears when it’s just too much

>And sometimes he’ll keep you pinned there well after, keeping himself inside.

> He’d let you call him daddy- and god does he get into it, but he’d be too shy to suggest anything like that himself

> He loves praise and he loves letting you know how good you feel

> Not usually verbally, but he’ll growl and moan and purr shamelessly

> He’s the king of oral, he’s like a man starved and you’ll end up overstimulated 9 out of 10 times

> And he loves when you reciprocate, especially if you don’t mind him fucking your mouth

Bubba Sawyer

> He’s a bit vanilla, not having much experience or knowledge beyond sex for procreation.

> Insert Drayton’s “sex or the saw” quote here lol

> But he’ll try anything for you at least once, he’s so eager to please.

> Most notably he makes a wonderful little submissive

> Whether you want him to bottom or just power bottom yourself, he loves being used to make you feel good

> He enjoys any and all praise

> He’s rather insecure, so he loves compliments on his appearance especially

> If you call him a pretty boy he melts

> 100 percent would love if you called yourself mommy/daddy/any other dom titles

> He loves when you sit on his face more than anything else

Vincent Sinclair

> The softest dom. He wants to take care of you around the clock, but especially in bed

> He’s a service top- it’s all for you. So much more concerned with you getting off than even being touched.

> He’s into wax play (Because it’s funny but also bc it’s underrated)

> And he likes to restrain you so he can worship you completely uninterrupted

> He’s not afraid of using toys, especially when you’re all tied up and at his mercy

> He loves taking pictures of you as well

> At first he claims it’s for reference but you know better, baby has a documentation kink

> He loves just watching too

> Trying to keep control while you touch yourself and moan his name is his favorite pastime

Brahms Heelshire

> Huge brat in need of taming

> Only a switch in the technical sense- he’ll top if you beg/bribe/pester him enough. He’s just lazy tbh

> Love love loves being both degraded and praised

> “filthy little boy” “pretty little slut” etc

> Prefers calling you mommy/daddy but can work with master

> And he’ll be your puppy if you want him to be

> He wears a cute collar and leash and lets you yank on it while you make him fuck you

> He loves when you edge him too

> Until he’s nearly in tears and whining and begging you to let him cum

> If you have boobs he’s obsessed with them

> And even if you don’t he’ll give the area lots of attention

[crypticdesire]

some sub slasher thoughts

MINORS DNI

includes vincent sinclair, jason voorhees, bubba sawyer, michael myers, brahms heelshire, and stu macher (around 2.4k words)

a note from vern: i haven't posted any fics about slashers yet, but the recent asks about slashers on pallas's blog made me want to share some of my hcs for some of my fav slashers. it's really a jumble of some broader hcs and some specific fantasies, which ended up being longer than i intended... i think i could write at least 10 different fics based off the content in this post ^^'

ANYWAYS content warnings will be listed with each slasher so make sure you read those! mentions of reader are all gn and implied top reader. cw will state if there's a mention of the reader having specific genitalia

VINCENT SINCLAIR cw: hypno, dollification, period sex + blood (vincent being one menstruating), reader mentioned having cock

➵ vincent is always so stuck in his mind trying to create the perfect art or be the perfect brother, so he needs you to help him unwind

➵ loves taking baths with you where he can sit between your legs and have you play with his hair and his cunt

➵ he also enjoys hypno because he gets the rare chance to not think at all. he just gets to mindlessly follow your instructions, laying still as he enjoys your touch and experiences orgasm after orgasm

➵ when it’s that time of the month, vincent especially needs your help. not only is he suffering from cramps but he finds all the thoughts in his head are louder and harsher making it too easy to become frustrated with himself over the smallest things

➵ it feels so good to have your cock inside him, letting him sign what pace he wants to feel your length gliding against his walls. alleviating his pain and pushing his insistent thoughts to the edges of his mind. he’s embarrassed by the thought of messiness at first but finds that the sight of his blood coating your fingers or smeared across the bottom half of your face is its own form of art that entrances him

➵ it’s not the only new form of art you make him aware of. you show him that he himself can be beautiful art through dollification. you’re the only one that’s ever made him feel pretty and he enjoys it even more when you do it by dressing him in pretty clothes and braiding strands of his hair. you tell him he looks just as beautiful as the wax sculptures he makes and when hypno is added he can feel like one for an extended moment. it's only in a hypnotized state that he lets you pose his body in front of a mirror with his mask off, allowing him to see the way you caress your precious doll

JASON VOORHEES cw: chastity device, piss, reader mentioned having a cock, role play, mention of murder

➵ just wants to be praised. pls call him a good boy and tell him how pretty he is!!

➵ i think he’s so eager to please you that once he’s comfortable with you, he’ll practically try out any kink you introduce him to, especially ones that give you control over him

➵ he gets turned on just by the process of you guiding him through a new kink, patiently explaining why you enjoy it, what you’re doing, how it might make him feel, possible limits to establish, etc.

➵ specifically, I think about that scenario with a chastity cage. he gets so turned on by you talking about it and what you’re going to do that he gets erect before you even put the cage on him. he’d be worried he disappointed you and wouldn’t enjoy being shamed for it, so tell him how cute he is and how much you’d enjoy helping him get prepped for it

➵ i also imagine that he especially likes a chastity device with a urethra rod so he has to get permission from you to pee

➵ something he really enjoys with or without the cage is cockwarming! he loves the feeling of you inside of him and when you praise him for sitting still. he finds it especially thrilling when you’re cockwarming him out in the open having to remain still even though someone could come across you any second, his senses elevated as he becomes super aware of his surroundings

➵ another discovery he makes is that he loves engaging in role play, especially when it involves a future victim who isn’t aware they’re taking part in it. after they’re killed he is so so sensitive and wants you to tell him how well he did with the scene and how that person deserved it

➵ just constantly desperate to hear you assure him that all his actions please you!

BUBBA SAWYER cw: reader is implied to have cock/strap on, overstimulation, feminization, exhibitionism

➵ he gets so excited anytime you touch him, and when you kiss him he can’t keep his hands still or stop himself from sloppily kissing or licking your skin

➵ he never takes long to cum, and even though he easily falls into overstimulation he prefers for you to fuck him roughly and loves when you pinch his clit, spank his pussy, or leave hickeys on his inner thighs or stomach

➵ he wants you to call him your pretty girl! he gets so excited when you buy him dresses or lingerie he has to try them on immediately and have you fuck him in it

➵ you have to patiently help him build up to it, but he ends up enjoying exhibitionism! he’s frequently worried about trespassers that could be a danger to you or his family, but you help him face that fear by convincing him to let you fuck him outside in a semi open space.

➵ he wears dresses and his pretty woman face for your outside rendezvous. you shower him with compliments and praise as you always do; additionally, you tell him that if anyone did happen to see you fucking, the only thing they’d be able to think about is how jealous they were of you for being able to fuck such a pretty girl.

➵ if given the option, his favorite place outside for you to fuck him is in the back of a pickup truck, especially when you’re on your knees fucking him against the back window where he can see your reflections

➵ on days when you can tell he’s up for it you coax him to ride you. he’s so used to being submissive in different aspects of his life that it takes him a while to understand that you’re giving him control of his movements and the pace you go at

➵ you have to guide him a lot the first few times and help him find what feels the best for him. you also have to help him choose what to do with his hands because not knowing what to do with them in the beginning, he instinctively covers his masked face with them

➵ he still prefers for you to be the one in control and fucking him but occasionally wants to ride you finding that he enjoys it when he’s feeling sexy and wants to last longer, drawing out your intimate time together

MICHAEL MYERS cw: voyeurism, reader mentioned having a cock, pet play, mention of role play and masochism

➵ definitely a voyeur, watching people without them knowing being so natural for him. when he finds himself attracted to you, i can see him not only watching you masturbate for pleasure but, being inexperienced, he wants to make mental notes of what you like, and how he might touch you if he ever did

➵ in my mind, I can picture him watching the way you move your hand on your cock, and without even realizing he begins to mirror your movements with his own hand, at least the best he can with his knife as the substitute he’s unconsciously using for your dick

➵ idk i’ve always liked the idea of him doing pet play with you before he’s even comfortable enough to let you touch him. tho that is very cat coded ig

➵ it’s not hard to imagine how the idea of a bell would come up with him always lurking. like just thoughtlessly saying he needed to wear a bell when he catches you off guard one time, and then considering your words making an offhand remark that a cat collar would actually look quite cute on him. you don’t think too much about your words until you come home one day with mikey sitting on your bed with a cat collar on the bed beside him

➵ after that, the kitty comments you direct at mikey come frequently and it's not too long before you convince him to wear the cat ears you bought as well. in getting closer to you it's easier to add another layer than taking off his mask physically and metaphorically speaking. and he discovers he’s really turned on by the fact that you call him "my kitty"

➵ he’s also a silly guy though so he definitely takes off the collar sometimes so he can still surprise you. just tilting his head in that cute way when you point out it’s obvious he scared you on purpose

➵ fast forward to when he does let you touch him… i can see him, especially at first, liking when you give his unclothed cock a hand job with his overalls still on, him holding the top together so really just his cock and a bit of his happy trail are visible. I think it helps him ease into things and I also see him preferring not to have his cum on his own skin so he likes that it’s spurting onto his clothes instead

➵ some other things I think he likes but won't go into detail about are you using toys on him, role play, you playing with his tits, and him just being a general masochist!

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE cw: pet play, scent kink, piss, possessiveness, reader mentioned having cock, somnophilia

➵ really he could be summarized as a puppy boy and a brat, but let’s talk about it anyway!

➵ he has a major scent kink and being a puppy boy and a brat ofc that means he’s going to be pissing on some of your things

➵ it always happens when you’re gone - how dare you leave him alone! - sometimes it’s because he gets too carried away humping your pillow but other times it’s out of jealously

➵ oh? you bring something new home that someone ELSE gave to you? pisses on it.

➵ oh? there’s this scent of cologne that he’s never smelled on your jacket before? pisses on it.

➵ oh? you’re going to make him spend a night alone in your bed? pisses on it.

➵ i also like the idea of him putting on your undergarments when you’re not home from your bin of dirty clothes of course. he’s always struggled to look at himself in mirrors but it’s different when he can focus his attention on the way he plays with himself while wearing something of yours. he doesn’t even try to hide it, you undressing him that evening to find him still wearing your undergarments stained with his cum

➵ his actions require some form of punishment, which he only enjoys if you reward him for taking the punishment like a good boy.

➵ peeing on your things instead of his pee pad? well, you’ll just have to tie him up and make him watch you piss on it since he doesn’t know how to. it makes him so upset knowing that he could be your pee pad or urinal instead. he could have your scent on him. he only lets you tie him up because afterward, he gets to suck your cock, perhaps getting lucky enough to taste a small dribble of piss that was left in your bladder.

➵ he’s not allowed to sleep in your bed for one night? only if you let him ride you on it the next day. while he loves being roughly fucked by you, liking the thought that you can’t contain yourself, he also wants to ride you from time to time

➵ you often keep him in check making sure he doesn’t get too carried away, but when he rides you let him be as eager as he pleases. he can fuck himself on your cock at whatever pace he likes, for however long he likes, and touch you wherever he wants

➵ you have to give him permission on specific nights when he’s allowed play with your cock while you're sleeping because if not you’d wake up every morning with your cock being warmed by his mouth or his hole

STU MACHER cw: pet play, implied that you aren't exclusive, facefucking with reader implied to have cock/strap on, overstimulation, mention of stuffing + emetophilia, piss, one mention of reader who menstruates + period sex + blood, mention of drug use

➵ whew playful puppy boy that tries to hide how obsessed he is with you and how badly he wants you to be obsessed with him

➵ he doesn’t have to be the only one you play with, but if other pets are around he has to prove he’s your good boy, the best boy

➵ he’s always doing something to get some type of reaction out of you for his own amusement, constantly testing your limits when you’re alone trying to see how much he can get away with. and he likes it when you push his limits in a different way

➵ seeing how long he can let you face fuck him even when he’s gagging and tears dot the corner of his eyes

➵ seeing how long he can watch you fuck someone else without touching himself if he wants to fucked himself

➵ seeing how many times he can cum, which has to be at least until he’s overstimulated and crying

➵ seeing how much he can eat before he’s throwing up

➵ seeing how long he can hold his piss for you. though he’s not satisfied by just drinking water and holding. he only enjoys it if you’re teasing him or he’s teasing you by making it harder for himself to hold

➵ ways he likes you to tease him include edging him, straddling him and pressing on his bladder, not letting him press his legs together, making him watch you wet yourself, and pouring water onto his groin

➵ ways he likes to tease you and himself include always insisting he can drink more, showing you how many jumping jacks he can do, grinding against his puppy pad, and masturbating in front of you sometimes while on the phone with billy

➵ if you menstruate he wants to go down on you. he loves the mess and will go out of his way to make it as messy as possible

➵ he also just likes to go down on you in general. at a certain stage of being high, all he wants to do is have his head between your thighs, laying there for as long as you let him. he’ll rotate between moving his tongue against you languidly, kissing anywhere his lips can reach, and nuzzling his face into you

[matchingbatbites]

i'm a spy, but on your side

Explicit | 3.4k | Full tags + Read on Ao3 | Divider Credit CW: Accidental voyeurism, dubious consent

Listen, Steve hadn’t meant to see it.

He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary; going over to Eddie’s place unannounced was normal at this point, something to be expected really. Especially since Robin is out of town this week, gone with her parents to visit family out of state. It's become commonplace for Steve to come over after his shift, late enough that Wayne had already left for his own job.

Steve lets himself into the new trailer like he usually does, and smiles at the sound of Eddie’s music coming from behind his bedroom door. Toeing off his shoes is practically second nature, even though he knows the Munsons don’t care, and he drops his keys on the kitchen counter as he passes it on his way to Eddie’s room.

The music isn’t as loud as Eddie usually plays it, and there’s a comment about it already brewing in his mouth as he opens the door. Instead Steve freezes in the archway, is thoroughly held in place by the sight before him. 

Eddie is laying on his stomach, his cheek pressed to the plush pillow held tight in his arms, as his hips steadily grind into another slotted between his legs. Steve’s eyes are locked on the way he rubs against the pillow, the motion steady but with a desperate edge that makes Steve feel hot all over.

He’s wearing boxers but his back is on display, a plane of smooth, pale skin occasionally interrupted by pink scars. Steve wants to kiss the knobs of his spine, wants to lick over his shoulder blades and bite into the back of his neck, hold him in place as he- 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie moans, the sound cutting though Steve’s thoughts and the music still playing. “Fucking- ah, please please please.”

Steve’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his grip almost painful as Eddie - all of him, the sight, the sound - goes straight to his dick. He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be seeing this.

He’s unable to move though, completely stuck in place as he watches the object of his desires dry hump a fucking pillow and somehow make it the hottest thing Steve’s ever seen.

Eddie is whimpering and whining, Steve can hear it when he focuses, listening for it under the music. He wants to shove his fingers in Eddie’s mouth, wants to know if he sounds just as needy with a cock down his throat.

A spike of terror rips through Steve as Eddie groans out a “Please, I’m- Steve,” and it takes him a second to realize that Eddie hasn’t noticed him, he’s fantasizing about him. It takes every ounce of Steve’s willpower to not just pounce, to not slot himself behind Eddie and rut against his ass the way Eddie is doing to that poor, lucky pillow.

Eddie’s desperate noises reach a peak and his hips stutter as he gasps, high and sharp. Steve only gives himself a second to watch Eddie come before he steps back, closing the door as quietly as he can. He stumbles away from it and fumbles to get his shoes back on, barely remembering to grab his keys on his way out of the home. 

Steve is burning with desire as he climbs back into his car, thinks vaguely about the time Dustin tried to explain spontaneous human combustion to him and wonders if this is how it feels, this crackling, sparking heat underneath his skin.

He’s thankful for the cover of night as he shoves his hand into his pants and strips his cock in short, fast strokes, too desperate to wait, the image of Eddie too fresh in his mind-

Steve comes in almost no time, paints the inside of his briefs because he hadn’t even bothered to pull his dick out. He slumps back into the seat as he tries to catch his breath, tries to figure out his next move.

He’s had a crush on Eddie for a while, one he’s refused to act on because he couldn’t tell if Eddie felt the same, if his teasing and flirting was genuine or just all jokes.

But now he knows. He saw Eddie come with Steve’s name on his lips and he knows.

It changes things, for Steve. He can’t help but treat Eddie differently after that, can’t help leaning into his space or flirting at every opportunity. More than that, he can’t stop touching Eddie, little, casual things that slip into something more intentional; a hand between his shoulder blades that slides down to rest just above his ass, reaching around him to grab something and pressing his whole front against Eddie's back.

Eddie is so responsive to everything, always shuddering under Steve's touch or turning the prettiest shade of pink at the close proximity. It's kind of funny, actually, how Eddie's never had a problem flirting with Steve before, but as soon as Steve started to reciprocate it seems like Eddie can barely string two words together to respond. It's intoxicating, and every blush and tremble and squeak only encourages Steve because they're so out of character for the metalhead.

He doesn’t tell Robin about what he witnessed, but she can see the change in him. She’s watched him flirt with enough people, can tell how this is different from the rest, and aside from a snide comment - “I need you to keep the ‘I'm gonna destroy him’ eyes to a minimum whenever I’m around, okay?” - she’s incredibly supportive.

Her support doesn’t stop her from ragging on Steve after every group hangout, or lovingly teasing him about how gone he is for Eddie. They're hanging out one day a few weeks after Steve had his world rocked, just crashed on the couch while some daytime drama plays on the TV, when she stretches a leg out to kick at Steve's thigh.

“Hey, when are you going to stop playing with Eddie and actually make a move?”

“What do you mean?”

Robin rolls her eyes. “I mean the fact that you're torturing him? Like, you know he thinks you're straight, right?”

Steve didn't know that, actually. "He told you that?" he asks, and Robin shrugs.

"He tells me things. Like the fact that he thinks you're sex on legs but he refuses to say anything because you've only dated girls before."

"That makes no sense, I've been flirting with him for weeks!"

"Yeah, well, not everyone can tell when someone is flirting with them, dingus. Especially when you're convinced that the person doing the flirting doesn't actually like you like that."

Steve hums, because yeah, that makes a lot of sense. "So I just have to tell him, then. Be blunt about it."

"And soon, preferably. I'm tired of listening to him lament over your chest hair and shit."

Everything comes to a head only a week after his conversation with Robin, about a month since the incident. Steve and Eddie had spent the evening by the pool, sharing a six pack of beer and shooting the shit, before heading up to Steve's room. There they'd continued chatting and occasionally flipping or swapping the cassette in Steve's stereo, and at some point they must have fallen asleep.

When Steve wakes up, the first thing he registers is the familiar sensation of a warm body pressed up along his front, and his arms draped around a slim waist. The next couple of things he notices all at once: the sound of soft, breathy whimpers, a pair of hands clutching at his shirt, and most importantly, the hard line of a dick rubbing against the jut of his hip. 

Eddie is so close when Steve opens his eyes, their faces just inches apart as they cling together. There’s just enough light coming from the bedside lamp for Steve to see the little furrow between Eddie’s brows as he whines again, the sound so needy even in his sleep. It's all too much, too close to what Steve's been wanting for weeks. Having Eddie in his bed, in his arms, sounding so sweet…

Steve doesn’t resist the urge to slide his hands down, just palms at Eddie’s ass and uses the leverage to grind their hips together. Their dicks line up just right and Steve groans at both the pressure and the strangled sound Eddie makes.

It's better than he imagined, better than any of the fantasies he's had in the last few weeks (and the fantasies he's had even before then, too). The way Eddie's body feels pressed against him is perfection, like they were made to fit together. It makes his head swim, and Steve grinds them together a bit harder than he should.

Eddie’s eyes blink open and Steve can see the sleepy confusion in them, can hear it in his groggy “Steve?”

Steve doesn’t stop though, just uses his hold on Eddie to rub them together as he mutters a soft “S’okay, baby, don't stop. Wanna feel you, please, Eddie."

The whine Steve gets is better than any song he's ever heard, and he thinks he might go insane when Eddie starts rutting against his hip, when his hands move to scrabble at Steve's back. He seems desperate, almost novice in his motions, and Steve revels in it. A firm squeeze of Eddie's ass has him moaning a "Fuck, Steve," that's just as sweet as it was weeks ago.

"That's it, baby. I've got you, keep going."

It's over pretty quickly after that; there's a few more minutes where their grinding gets a bit sloppy and desperate, where the only noise in the room is their combined breathing and the whines Eddie fails to bite back. Eventually, Eddie's fingers dig into Steve’s shoulders and he trembles as he comes, surely ruining the boxers he's wearing.

“So good, Eddie. So fuckin’ perfect baby.”

The thought of stripping Eddie down and licking him clean - of sucking Eddie's spunk from the fabric so he gets every last drop - is what does Steve in, his own orgasm hitting him with a low groan. They lay there for a second, just holding each other until Eddie finally pulls away. Steve lets him go, watches Eddie flop onto his back as he tries to catch his breath.

“I can't believe that just fucking happened. Am I still dreaming?” he asks as he scrubs a hand over his face, and Steve shakes his head.

“Not dreaming. But, uh. I'm sorry for just- doing that, without asking," he says, feeling the sudden need to apologize, to explain. "When I realized you were grinding on me, I probably should have pulled away or something but fuck, Eddie. You're so irresistible, and I've wanted you so long-"

“You've wanted?” Eddie asks, clearly baffled. "You're- You- Irresistible?"

Steve grins and nods. "Yeah? I don't know if you've noticed, but I have a hard time keeping my hands to myself when you're around."

Eddie blinks and his eyes glaze over like he's remembering every interaction they've had recently. "Oh my god," he groans, finally seeming to get it. "I can't believe I didn't realize you've been like, blatantly flirting with me. Holy fuck."

"I also have to confess something. Before we get too far into this."

"I don't know if I can handle any more confessions," Eddie says, his voice thin.

“I uh. I watched you. Came to the trailer one night a few weeks ago and saw you fucking your pillow, and- shit Eddie. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, about you.”

There's a moment of silence while Steve lets Eddie process that, while he waits for the possibility of Eddie being revolted by his actions and leaving. He's almost surprised when Eddie asks, his voice barely more than a whisper, "What, uh- What've you been thinking about me?"

And god, Steve can't just not touch him when he sounds so timid, so different from his usual bombastic self. He rolls over so he's laying partially on Eddie, pressing their bodies together from chest to hip and slotting a leg between Eddie's own. He props himself up on an elbow so he can watch Eddie's face and pushes his free hand into that mess of curls.

"I've been thinking about how hot you look when you're desperate like that. About all those whiny, needy little sounds you were making. How you said my name when you came."

Steve can feel Eddie's dick twitch against his hip, can feel the way his chest hitches on a breath as he says “Steve…”

“What were you dreaming about just now?” Steve asks as he dips down, unable to resist pressing a kiss to the corner of Eddie's plush mouth.

Eddie's hands settle on Steve's sides, almost like he's afraid to touch, and he takes a shaky inhale before whispering “You, always you."

“Mm, and what was I doing, baby?”

“Shit. We, uh. We were at the Hawk, in the very back row, and you had your hand in my- in my pants jacking me off. You were telling me to keep quiet so no one else would notice us but it was so hard.”

God, what a fucking dream. Steve grinds their hips together, a silent encouragement as he says “Tell me another one?” and Eddie whimpers.

"Um, after game night. Everyone else left and you would- wouldn't even let me clean up before you were bending me over the table and pushing your fingers into me, seeing if I was still loose from where you fucked me earlier."

Fuck. "Were you?"

Eddie nods and his hands fist in Steve's shirt. "Still loose, still - fuck - still wet from you coming in me, filling me up."

That's what breaks Steve, what has him pressing their mouths together in a needy first kiss. Eddie moans into it, responding eagerly when Steve bites into his lip, when he pushes his tongue past the line of Eddie's teeth to taste inside him.

Steve's always loved kissing, but this- This is instantly addicting. He uses his grip on Eddie's hair to hold the other man in place as he devours Eddie's mouth, as he maps out every inch of it. Eddie's hips jerk up and Steve grinds down against him, slow and filthy as he swallows each one of Eddie's pretty whines and whimpers. It's only a couple of minutes before Eddie breaks the kiss with a gasping “Fuck, I'm gonna come,” and Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. 

“Already? You just came a few minutes ago, honey.”

“Yeah, well you try having all your dirty fantasies come true in one fell swoop and see how well you hold up."

"I mean, I'm clearly holding up pretty well," Steve grins, and sees when Eddie realizes yet again that Steve wants him. He kisses Eddie again, just a quick peck before he says "I want you to do something for me before you come, okay?"

Eddie gives a curious "Okay?" and Steve pulls back, reaching for his pillow and passing it to Eddie. “Show me again. Let me watch you properly this time, baby.”

A shudder runs through Eddie's frame and he nods before he flips over and crams the pillow under his hips. He glances at Steve and takes a shaky breath before he starts a slow grind, unsure but clearly eager to obey.

Steve is practically holding his breath as he watches the sinuous movement, as he tracks the way Eddie rolls his hips into the pillow. It's mesmerizing, and Steve is so engrossed by the fact that he's finally allowed to watch, that it takes him a second to realize that it's stiff. Each thrust feels a bit mechanical, and Steve is sure that Eddie is either holding back or overthinking it, most likely from nerves.

Steve gets that, but he really wants to see Eddie let loose, to see that almost primal desperation he had last time. He reaches out to grab the slight swell of Eddie's ass and pushes a bit in encouragement as he mutters "Come on, honey. Just relax, let me see you." Eddie whimpers and Steve revels in it as the man actually lets go and starts to properly rut against the plush pillow.

"That's it, baby, so fucking good."

Eddie keens at the praise and Steve moves his hand to his own dick, palming himself through his damp boxers. It's a bit uncomfortable, but he doesn't stop, needing a bit of relief where he's already straining against the fabric. Eddie must see the movement because he tips his head to get a better look and groans a soft "God, Steve," and his hips stutter.

Steve grins and grabs his dick, giving Eddie a better look at the shape of it through his boxers. "S'all for you, Eddie. Love seeing you so needy, so desperate for me." An obvious shiver runs through Eddie and his hands clench in the bedding.

"Fuck, Steve. Need you, sweetheart, please."

And how could Steve deny such a sweet request? He moves to straddle Eddie's thighs and grabs his slim waist, pinning Eddie down and stopping his motions. He rocks forward, his cock lining up with the crack of Eddie's ass as he starts to grind against him, and the noise that escapes Eddie is desperate.

Every thrust from Steve presses Eddie harder into the pillow below him, and though he wishes they were skin to skin - that he could really wedge himself between Eddie's ass cheeks and rub over his hole - there's no way he's going to stop and rectify it.

Eddie is whining again, whimpering in a way that goes straight to Steve's dick. He moves a hand from Eddie's waist to the back of his neck and uses the leverage to speed up, to make every thrust harder, like he's trying to fuck Eddie through their clothes.

"This is what I wanted to do last time when I saw you, when I watched you," Steve says, his voice nearly a growl. "Wanted to climb in your bed and rub my dick on you, just like this. Wanted to strip you down and fuck you until you were crying."

A hard shudder wracks Eddie's frame, and for a second Steve is sure Eddie just came again. He's proven wrong when Eddie reaches back to claw at Steve's leg as he gasps "Oh god, gonna come! Steve, please-!"

Steve thinks he growls as he presses down harder. "Do it, Eddie. Come for me, let me have it."

"Shit shit shit!"

Eddie shakes apart as his orgasm hits him, the noise he makes wordless and wounded, and Steve isn't far behind him. He grinds against Eddie's ass and thinks about next time, wonders if Eddie will let Steve stretch him open with his fingers, his tongue, his dick, and then he peaks.

Steve paints the inside of his briefs a second time before he falls forward, draping himself over Eddie's back like a blanket. He wraps his arms around Eddie's waist and rolls them on their sides, tugging him close until they're properly spooning. He dots kisses along the line of Eddie's neck as he waits for Eddie's tremors slow and then stop.

"You good?" he asks, voice soft as he nuzzles into the space behind his ear, ignoring the curls that tickle his nose.

"Never better, actually. Fuck."

Steve chuckles softly and tightens his grip slightly, again wishing they were naked so he could feel the warmth of Eddie's skin pressed against his own. He sates himself by sliding a hand up into Eddie's shirt and toying with the soft trail of hair that runs down into his shorts.

"So what happens now?" Eddie asks after a moment of silence, his voice soft.

"Well, we probably need a shower, but we could get away with just a wipe down for now."

"I mean like- with us. What happens with us? Because if you don't want anything serious from this, I need to know ahead of time-"

"I do want serious, Eddie. God, I wanna be serious with you. Yeah, I'm like, super horny for you-" Eddie snorts a laugh, and Steve squeezes him briefly as he continues "-but I also like you. Like, a lot a lot. I wanna be boyfriends, if that's what you want too."

Eddie turns in his arms, shifting until they're face to face, and even in the low light Steve can see his eyes shining with joy. "I like the sound of boyfriends," he mutters, and Steve beams as he leans in for another kiss.

He pulls away after a moment, just enough to mutter against Eddie's mouth, "How do you feel about going to the Hawk for our first date?"

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

"Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you..."