#dancing and making art and then going to the bar to get something to drink i just felt like

[bugmistake]

so transgender i could cry

[pinkboaclub]

Sweet Thing

Summery: You and Harry are best friends, despite your 15 year age gap. One night, when your blind date goes wrong, he wants to make sure your night still ends in pleasure. {Older!Harry}

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut, age gap (15 years), mention of alcohol consumption, fem!reader

“Oh, what’s wrong, pretty girl?” Harry asked, his voice warm with concern as you trudged over to him from the bar, exhaustion written across your face.

The music in the background blared so loudly that it felt like it was vibrating through your bones, drowning out everything else. Every Friday night, Harry rented a private room at the local club for your group of friends to unwind, drink, and let loose.

You collapsed into his lap, resting your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh.

“I’m just so tired…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the thumping bass.

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer with a gentle smile. He knew how alcohol always made you sleepy and affectionate, especially after just a few drinks.

“Poor thing,” Harry teased, his lip sticking out in a mock pout. He was used to giving you the same spiel every Friday—how he knew even a little alcohol would knock you out.

“I wasn’t even planning on drinking tonight,” you giggled drunkenly. “But then Eve and Clara dragged me to the bar, and I had one drink… and then two… and then three…it really wasn’t my fault.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll get you something to eat, at least. You need to balance out that alcohol.” He reached across the table to grab a small bowl of pretzels and nuts he had sent to the table the moment he saw you take your first shot, but the thought of eating made your stomach churn.

Despite the 15-year age gap between you—23 and Harry 38—you had always been close. You were just friends, of course, and had made sure to clarify that to everyone around you, but it didn’t stop people from speculating.

But could you blame them? You practically lived at his house, spent most of your free time together, and took care of each other like an old married couple.

You half-heartedly munched on a couple of pretzels, trying to settle your stomach. Just then, a waiter appeared with a glass of ice water, which you drank down in one go, the cold helping to ground you.

As your friends continued their chatter, some heading to the bar, others to the dance floor, you stayed in Harry’s lap, drifting in and out of sleep with your head tucked into his neck.

“We can head home if you want, bunny,” Harry murmured, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back.

“No, I’m okay,” you protested sleepily, keeping your eyes shut as you snuggled deeper into him. “Let’s stay for a bit.”

Eve, Clara, and a few others returned, laughing as they took their seats around the table.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever seen fall asleep in a club with barely any alcohol in their system,” Eve said with a teasing smile.

You managed a sleepy chuckle. “I can’t socialize without a little buzz,” you admitted, blinking your eyes open for the first time in a while as you sat up.

“As long as we get you on the dance floor later, I don’t mind,” Clara said with a wink, sipping on her margarita.

"Speaking of socializing," Eve began, eyeing you playfully, "Do you remember that guy we met at Jolie’s art exhibit? Elijah?" You nodded, though your memory of him was hazy.

"Well," she continued, "he kind of asked if I could set you two up on a date... but I told him I’d check with you first. It’s totally your call."

Maybe it was the alcohol, or just the idea of finally getting laid after months of dry spells, but before you could think it through, your words came tumbling out.

"Sure, why not? I think I remember him being cute. Is he nice?" You caught Harry’s gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as his jaw clenched.

"He’s a friend of Jolie and me from University," Eve said, her voice light. "He was closer to Jolie, but he’s sweet. Really into art and music. I think you’ll like him." Eve’s tone was upbeat, though the surprise among the other girls was palpable. You'd been known to avoid dating for months, and yet here you were, agreeing to a date in the blink of an eye. Without hesitation, Eve texted Elijah to let him know you'd accepted.

The next hour passed in a blur of laughter and bad jokes that were 10 times funnier thanks to the alcohol coursing through your system. After a couple more drinks, you, Eve, and Clara decided to hit the dance floor again.

"You’re coming with me?" you asked Harry, slinging your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Not really feeling it," he bluntly replied. "But don’t let me stop you."

You pouted, leaning closer to him. "You can go home, if you’re done. We could go home together." Your lips kissed all over his face, guilt creeping in as your drunk brain wondered if you'd done something wrong.

"No, no, sweet thing, I’m good. Just haven’t had enough to drink to feel loose enough to show off my moves," he chuckled, planting a quick kiss on your head. "Go have fun."

With that, you strutted away, immediately getting lost in the rhythm of the music. You couldn’t help but notice each of you was drunkenly dancing to a different beat.

"Hey!! Elijah texted me back!" Eve shouted over the thumping music. "He wants to take you out tomorrow!"

"Sounds good!" you yelled back, not even pausing in your wild dancing. "Any time after five works for me!"

When your legs finally felt like they’d given all they could to the dance floor, the three of you retreated back to your private room.

"I can tell by your face that you’re getting tired again," Harry teased, his voice warm as he glanced over at you. You sat down next to him, leaning into his side. "Time to go home?"

You nodded, already feeling the weight of your headache catching up to you.

"Okay, let’s go, sweet thing." Harry helped you stand, offering you a smile.

As was the usual routine after a night out—one of you sober, the other tipsy—the sober one would drive the drunk one home. When you were both drunk, however, it became a game of scissor -paper-stone to see who’d get the front seat in the Uber.

He gently assisted you into his car, a sleek black Range Rover, securing your seatbelt as you leaned back, closing your eyes in quiet exhaustion.

When you arrived at his house, he was there again, unbuckling your seatbelt and guiding you to the door with steady care.

“I’ll grab you some water and Ibuprofen. Why don’t you head upstairs and get ready for bed?”

You nodded in gratitude, your body heavy with fatigue as you slowly made your way up the stairs. Once inside his room, you went straight to the dresser, where you always kept a few pairs of pajamas for nights like this.

In his bathroom, your extra face wash, moisturizer, and toothbrush were neatly arranged….maybe people weren’t wrong to wonder if there was something more going on between you two.

Your hangover symptoms the next morning are what woke you up, head pounding and nausea. You opened your eyes, seeing Harry sitting up next to you, reading his book, shirtless.

“What a beautiful site to wake up to.” You groggily joked.

Harry looked up from his book, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he marked his place and set the book aside. His eyes softened as he noticed you, his hand gently your messy hair away from your face.

“How’s your head feeling?” he asked, his tone low and soothing.

You let out a groan in response, your mind scrambling for some semblance of clarity. Slowly, fragments of last night came rushing back. The dim, pulsing lights of the club. The laughter. The dancing. You winced at the ache in your feet, a silent reminder of how long you'd been on your feet. And then, a sudden, jarring memory surfaced—one that made your stomach churn in a different way.

“Wait… did I really agree to go on a date today?” You asked, barely believing it yourself.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle, his fingers still gently massaging your scalp as he looked at you with a mixture of affection and amusement.

“You did,” he said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You groaned again, sinking deeper into the pillow, willing the world to stop spinning. “Jeez, I can’t even remember the last five minutes, let alone a date,” you muttered, half to yourself.

Harry’s chuckle turned into a laugh as he shifted closer to you, his thumb brushing lightly over your temple in a comforting rhythm.

"I think you’re going to be just fine," Harry teased, his voice still soft with affection. "But I’m not gonna lie... I am interested to see how this date goes. Since you've been avoiding dating for so long"

"Yeah, well, let’s just say I’m not expecting anything amazing," you sighed, stretching your arms above your head.

Later that day, you found yourself standing in front of your full-length mirror, nervously adjusting your outfit. You weren’t exactly thrilled about the date, but you didn’t want to look like you didn’t care either. You settled on a simple black dress—something that was easy but still flattering.

You took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if you had something better to do. You could always call Harry afterward to complain about how terrible it went.

You arrived at restaurant where Elijah had suggested you meet. It had that typical artsy vibe—exposed brick walls, vintage furniture, and food that probably cost more than it should have. As you walked in, you spotted Elijah immediately.

He looked up as you approached, a confident, almost smug smile spreading across his face. “Ah, you made it,” he said, standing to greet you.

"Of course," you replied, offering a smile.

"So, what do you like to do?" Elijah leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table, his gaze more smug than ever. "What’s your thing? What are you into?"

The question hung in the air, a little too casually thrown at you. You hesitated for a moment, then smiled politely. "Well, I enjoy a bit of everything. Not really an expert in anything, though. I like books, music… anything creative, really."

He waved a hand dismissively, clearly not too interested in your response. “That’s nice. But honestly, I think everyone has their own version of what ‘creativity’ means. I think it’s just one of those things that gets watered down by society’s need to put things in boxes.”

You nodded, trying not to laugh at how seriously he was taking his own thoughts. The guy was talking in circles, as if he had an actual dissertation on his mind.

At some point during the evening, you realized that Elijah wasn’t going to ask about you or show any real interest in anything about your life. He kept dropping vague hints about how "complicated" he was, how misunderstood artists like himself had to suffer for their brilliance, and how he was just waiting for the world to catch up with him.

The only thing that really seemed to get him talking was his apparent admiration for himself.

Eventually, the awkwardness started to wear off, and he invited you to his apartment. Not that you were expecting anything from it—but you hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and the loneliness was starting to hit.

The two of you ended up sitting on your couch, sipping wine, your conversation moving toward more personal topics. It felt... comfortable, even though you knew it wasn’t exactly what you'd been hoping for. Still, you found yourself kissing him a little while later, your mind racing with that familiar nervous excitement.

Things moved quickly, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, both of you tangled up in each other in the dimly lit space of your apartment.

Time passed—minutes, hours, it was hard to tell. Eventually, you found yourself at the door, your dress wrinkled and your head spinning.

"Stay. Please," Elijah urged, his eyes softening slightly as he leaned in closer. “We could talk more. I really want to see you again.”

You bit your lip, your thoughts muddled. But, remembering the hours of excruciating conversation, you knew you needed to leave. "I have work in the morning," you said, even though it wasn’t true. The lie slipped out before you could even think about it.

Elijah’s face fell slightly, but he nodded. "Well, I guess that’s alright. But next time… Let’s make sure we have more time."

You smiled softly, but your mind was already elsewhere, already home and away from him.

You stepped out into the cool night air, pulling your coat tightly around your shoulders, feeling that familiar sense of discomfort slowly sink in. The date had been a total bust, and you couldn’t help but feel the sting of regret.

At home, after a quick shower to wash off the lingering feelings of awkwardness, you picked up your phone and texted Harry, hoping that he’d be up for a late-night rant.

"Can I come over to vent? This date was so annoying."

You didn’t have to wait long before his reply popped up. "Of course, pretty girl."

And so, you drove over, already thinking about how you were going to explain all the cringey moments to Harry, secretly hoping he wouldn’t say, “I told you so."

“You look like you had a blast,” Harry remarked dryly, opening the door for you.

You suppressed the urge to launch into a full rant. “Oh, yeah, great time,” you replied with equal sarcasm.

You both collapsed onto the couch— you sprawled out, Harry sitting up beside you like you were about to start a therapy session. Without missing a beat, you let the floodgates open.

“He literally talked about himself the entire time,” you began, voice dripping with frustration. “He asked me what I like to do, and as soon as I told him, he started lecturing me on his ‘interpretation of creativity.’ And it didn’t stop. For the entire date.”

Harry grinned, clearly entertained, as you continued your rant, eyes narrowing as you remembered every detail.

“And every conversation has to be this deep, philosophical, soul-searching dive— like, ‘We’re just floating on a ball in space,’ you know? The kind of thing you'd hear from the most insufferable kid in a first year psych class.”

You huffed, running a hand through your hair as the memory played in your mind. “Do you want me to continue?” You looked up at Harry. “It gets a little…18+.”

Harry's jaw slightly clenched, but he let out a chuckle. “Oh really? His personality wasn’t enough of a red flag?” He teased you, you burst out into laughter.

“Okay, okay, you have no right to judge, we’re both victims of making bad decisions when we’re horny.” You joked.

“Mm, I don’t know, I would’ve left after the ‘We’re just floating on a ball in space’ comment.”

“First of all, he didn’t actually say that…..that was just his vibe.” You corrected, both of you continuing to laugh. “And second of all, I KNOW you still would have slept with him, especially if you hadn’t been with anyone in four months.” You reminded him.

“Oh would I? No amount of horniness would have even made me go back to that type of person’s house.”

“You’re a liar. “ you said, dying of laughter. “Do I have to remind you of that girl you slept with, the one who kept saying ‘actually’ in front of very compliment, that you hated? ‘You’re actually funny. You’re actually kind of cute. You’re actually smart. What was her name? Lily? Lucy?”

“It was Laura.” He sheepishly corrected you

“And if I remember correctly, it wasn’t just one night, even after she described your sex as ‘actually good’, so I don’t want any judgment from you.” He surrendered, and let you continue.

“I’ll spare you the intimate details…I’ll just say, I didn’t necessarily leave satisfied.”

“Did you finish?”

“He finished. I didn’t.”

“Y/N.” He titled his head towards you in disbelief.

You stayed silent, almost trying to hide a smile out of embarrassment. He shook his head in disapproval.

“This is why I don’t go on dates. All I got was a shitty dinner and I still haven’t had a non-self inflicted orgasm in 4 months.”

He held his arm out as an invitation to invite you closer to him. Accepting his invitation, you leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder.

“Did you go home and…help yourself?” He asked, rubbing your back in consolation.

“No! I went home, took a shower, and then came straight here!” He chuckled, pulling you into his lap, making you straddle him.

“You don’t have to end the night unsatisfied,” he teased, his voice low with a playful edge.

“You promised no judgment,” you laughed, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. His silence, paired with the look in his eyes, made it clear he wasn’t entirely joking.

“I’m just saying... there’s an easy fix,” he replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Both of you laughed, though the underlying seriousness in your tones couldn’t be ignored.

“An easy fix? Like what?” you asked, your voice dropping slightly, the flirtation slipping into your words.

“Well, let’s say you wanted to,” He guided you off his lap, sitting you next to him. “You could lay down right here.”

You lowered your back onto the couch, your heart pounding harder than ever.

“Is this okay?” He clarified. You nodded and he continued. “I could come up here, make you feel better.” He crawled up to your neck, laying kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone.

He kneeled down on the ground in front of the couch. His hand shifted down to the button of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them and lowering them down your leg.

“You're in control here. Anytime you want to stop or do something else, you let me know, I want to make you feel good.” Your chest quickly moved up and down and you hummed in acknowledgment.

He grabbed your leg, placing it on one of his shoulders, kissing the other leg until he got to your inner thigh. Before he could continue you grabbed the ends of your top, quickly pulling it off to reveal your bra. Harry gave you a cheeky smile before he continued.

He kissed the insides of your thighs, sucking the delicate skin until a string of tiny purple bruises dotted your thighs.

“Please, Harry.” You whined in an impatient tone.

His eyes shot up to your face. “What do you need, sweet thing?”

“Everything. Your tongue. Your fingers. Please…please Harry.” The eagerness that had been building up in you for the past four months started to come up all at once.

“You need to learn patience, baby.” He teased you, lightly grazing his lips along your inner thigh. Finally, he grabbed your underwear and helped you out of them.

He planted his lips over your clit, expertly curling his tongue around the swollen area and flicking until your hips bucked. His arms curled around your thighs, pulling you to him and splaying a hand over your stomach to keep your hips still. He flattened his tongue against your clit to give you the pressure that you desperately craved.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny. So wet. Is this all for me?”

You hastily nodded, unable to speak.

Your hand tugged hard on his hair as his tongue worked delicately hard across your clit. Harry took one last look at your flushed face before moving his fingers at a punishing pace, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could tell that you were holding back a bit, since you two had been friends for a while, yet this was your first interaction past a simple cuddle. He lifted his mouth from you.

“It’s alright, sweet thing. I got you, I want to make you feel good.”

He went back to pleasuring you, his ability to make you feel this good felt so natural. You focused on him, trying to push any nerves to the back of your head. His hand that rested on your stomach grabbed your hand, wrapping his fingers around your hand, giving you a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

A shudder rippled through your body and a deep moan erupted from your throat as you came around his fingers. Harry focused on you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

He climbed back up to you, sweeping your hair from your face and kissing your forehead, your nose, and your cheeks. “It’s okay, sweet baby.” He cood, your eyes stayed closed as you catched your breath.

You mindlessly pulled him closer to you, hiding your face in his neck, needing immediate aftercare after your powerful orgasm.

“Wanna go upstairs…an-help you.” You breathlessly begged, kissing his neck and lowering your hand down his abdomen.

“Okay sweet thing, let’s go upstairs.”

[read part two here!] [read a prequel blurb here!]

[dealervel]

NEW POST FROM @munybagd

his prize possession ! idk what this really is yall… it’s a drabble ig …

His favorite kind of girls were the lonely ones who sat alone at the bars while their friends danced around with other men, gosh he could go for those all day - taking them to his home and molding them into his personal 'good little girls' before slowly getting tired of them and throwing them out. But the day he found you he just couldn't throw you out.. he wanted to keep you. You were his prize possession, he treated you like a trophy — everything you wanted he would get not matter what it was.

But if you want something you had to do something back in return and those 'returns' were movies for him... the once sweet man at the bar offering to pay for your drinks and making you giggle now had your hands tied up with a camera in your face. “Smile for me baby” his voice raspy but heavenly — the only thing you could do was smile. “Good girl” his ‘good girl ’.. his ‘ innocent girl ’.. his ‘ beautiful piece of art ’.

His friends were even jealous of him. His sweet girl who started to do everything for him — “ my love .. could you make our guest some tea? ” your sweet smile and cheerful voice made the other men crave you. “ you’re a lucky man ” , “ mmm i would love to be laid up with her all day ” , “ her innocence… it would drive me insane ” , “ she’s such a sweetheart ” .

Those were a few things his friends would say about you — sometimes they would be sweet and kind things but sometimes it would be very sexual things. Yet he never got mad but instead he would do some of the things with you … fucking you by a big open window, playing with you under the tables at restaurants, or even teasing you in front of his friends. You were his ‘ prize possession ’ and his only.

“shh.. shh you’re okay my sweet girl” he whispered in your ear causing a goosebump reaction to hit your warm body. pumping and pumping you felt your nails dig deeper into his back while his cold hands helped your body bounce on his thick cock — “ you feel it baby? is that why you are lost for words? ” the non stop pumping now had your legs twitching. You felt his breath against your skin .. it was heavy and yet steady. he wanted to please this his toy … because again you are his prize possession and soon to be the love of his life.

[girlkisser13]

going on your first date with the tvdu men would include

damon salvatore

• damon would likely choose a secluded and romantic location, perhaps the mystic grill for a drink, followed by a surprise trip to a hidden spot in the woods or a beautiful clearing with a view of the stars.

• he would pick you up in his blue convertible, making the journey to your date part of the experience, complete with playful banter and a perfectly curated playlist.

• expect witty and flirty conversation. we all know damon LOVES to tease, but he’d also be surprisingly attentive, showing genuine interest in getting to know you better.

• he’d most likely choose your drink for you, something you’d end up loving, showcasing his impeccable taste. if the date involves food, he’d make sure it’s something special, perhaps even cooking for you at his house.

• if the moment felt right, damon will suggest dancing. whether it’s a slow dance in the woods under the stars or a playful dance at the grill, he’d make it unforgettable.

• at the end of the date, damon would walk you to your door. his goodbye would be lingering, leaving you eager for the next time you see him. he’d probably leave you with a teasing comment or a promise of more to come.

elijah mikaelson

• elijah would choose an elegant and sophisticated location, a high-end restaurant with a stunning view or a private, luxurious setting that exudes old school harm.

• he’d OBVIOUSLY show up dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, reflecting his refined and timeless style. every detail of his appearance would be perfect, from his cufflinks to his neatly styled hair.

• elijah would send a classic car to pick you up, or he would arrive himself, ready to escort you to your date with utmost courtesy.

• elijah would be genuinely interested in your thoughts, opinions, and experiences. he’d share fascinating stories from his centuries-long life, offering glimpses into his past while keeping an air of mystery.

• elijah is the epitome of a gentleman. he’d hold doors open for you, help you with your coat, and ensure you feel cherished and respected throughout the evening.

• he would bring you a thoughtful gift, such as a bouquet of rare flowers or a book that he thinks you’d love, showing his attention to detail and consideration.

• elijah would choose the finest cuisine and wine, making sure everything is of the highest quality. he’d ensure the meal is a culinary experience, with each course carefully selected to delight your palate.

• he would engage you in conversations about art, history, literature, and culture, revealing his vast knowledge and passion for these subjects.

• while elijah is a perfect gentleman, there’s always an underlying sense of his power and ability to protect you. you’d feel safe and secure in his presence, knowing he’d go to great lengths to ensure your well-being.

• at the end of the date, elijah would walk you to your door, ensuring you’re safely home. his goodbye would be tender and sincere, perhaps with a gentle kiss on your hand or a soft brush of his lips against your cheek, leaving you enchanted and eager for the next time you meet.

kol mikaelson

• kol would choose a fun and unpredictable location for your date. this could range from a vibrant bar in the french quarter, to a late-night carnival, or even a spontaneous adventure like breaking into an abandoned mansion for some exploring.

• kol would either show up in a flashy car or decide to take you for a walk through the lively streets of new orleans, there’s no in between.

• kol is all about living in the moment. he might suggest impromptu activities, like dancing in the street to a nearby musician’s tunes or trying some exotic food from a street vendor.

• there’s always a touch of mischief with kol. he might pull a harmless prank or engage in a bit of friendly competition, such as challenging you to a game of pool or darts at a local bar.

• kol wouldn’t hide his vampire nature; instead, he’d use it to impress you. he’d show off his speed, strength, and compel the bartender to give you both free drinks.

• the date would be filled with energy and excitement. kol’s enthusiasm is contagious, and he’d ensure you’re constantly entertained and engaged, never a dull moment.

• at the end of the date, kol would walk you home, making sure you’re safely inside. his goodbye would be flirty and full of promise, perhaps with a lingering kiss or a playful comment about your next adventure together.

jeremy gilbert

• jeremy would choose a casual and comfortable location, like a cozy café, a local diner, or a peaceful spot by the lake for a picnic.

• jeremy is a good listener and would be interested in learning about your passions, dreams, and experiences.

• jeremy would suggest doing something fun and interactive, like visiting an arcade, going for a hike, or even attending a local concert. he’d want to create a memorable experience that’s enjoyable for both of you.

• jeremy’s an artist so he might even take you to a local art gallery, or he could even bring his sketchbook and show you some of his sketches (they’re honestly probably all sketches of you).

• jeremy would choose a place with good, hearty food— nothing too fancy, but something that feels comforting and satisfying. if you’re having a picnic, he’d pack a basket with some of his favorite snacks and drinks.

• he also loves being outdoors, so he might take you to a beautiful, secluded spot in nature.

• at the end of the date, jeremy would walk you to your door and make sure you’re safely inside. his goodbye would be sweet and sincere, leaving you feeling cared for and excited for the next time you see him.

malachai "kai" parker

• kai would choose an unconventional and adventurous location. this could range from exploring an old, abandoned building to a spontaneous road trip to a nearby town. he loves to keep things exciting and unpredictable.

• there’s always a sense of mischief with kai. he would definitely suggest something dangerous or illegal, like sneaking into a restricted area or trying out a thrilling activity. he enjoys pushing boundaries and seeing how far you’re willing to go.

• kai wouldn’t shy away from using his magic. he might perform small, impressive spells to amuse you or use his powers to enhance the date, like creating a magical light show or conjuring up something special.

• kai would take you to a unique, offbeat restaurant or café, somewhere with a cool vibe and interesting menu. he’d make sure the experience is memorable and out of the ordinary.

• at the end of the date, kai would walk you to your door with a mix of playful charm and genuine interest. his goodbye would be intriguing and magnetic, perhaps with a lingering touch or a cryptic comment that leaves you wanting more.

niklaus "klaus" mikaelson

• klaus would choose a sophisticated and exclusive location, like a private rooftop dinner with a stunning view of the city, a hidden garden, or a historic site. he loves grandeur and would want to impress you with a memorable setting.

• klaus would pick you up in a luxurious car, ensuring you travel in comfort and style. the journey would be smooth and filled with engaging conversation, making you feel at ease and intrigued.

• klaus is well-read and knowledgeable, and he’d be genuinely interested in your thoughts and experiences. he’d share fascinating stories from his long life, providing glimpses into his complex personality.

• klaus is a master of romantic gestures. he’d bring you a bouquet of rare flowers, arrange for a talented musician to play a private concert, or surprise you with a beautifully handwritten note expressing his admiration.

• klaus has a deep appreciation for art and culture. he might take you to an art gallery, a classical music concert, or even show you some of his own artwork. he’d love to share his passions with you and see your reactions.

• klaus has a penetrating gaze that can make you feel like the only person in the world. throughout the date, he’d often lock eyes with you, never looking away until you do.

• his protective nature would be evident. he’d ensure you feel safe and cared for at all times, subtly asserting his strength and willingness to defend you if needed.

• klaus is a gentleman at heart. he’d open doors for you, pull out your chair, and be attentive to your needs, ensuring you feel respected and cherished.

• at the end of the date, klaus would walk you to your door. his goodbye would be lingering and filled with promise, perhaps with a gentle kiss on your hand or a soft brush of his lips against yours, leaving you yearning for more.

stefan salvatore

• stefan would choose a charming, low-key location for your first date. this might be a quaint café, a scenic park, or a cozy restaurant with a relaxed atmosphere where you can talk and connect.

• he’d pick you up in his car, making sure the ride is pleasant and comfortable. he might even play a soft playlist to set a relaxed mood.

• stefan is thoughtful and would likely bring a small, meaningful gift, like a single flower or a favorite book he thinks you’d enjoy. he values the little things that show he’s paying attention.

• stefan would plan a thoughtful activity, such as a stroll through a picturesque park, a visit to a local art exhibit, or a casual outing to a farmers' market, where you can explore and talk.

• he’d pay close attention to your preferences and needs, ensuring you’re comfortable and having a good time. if you mention a favorite food or drink, he’d remember and include it in the date.

• stefan’s demeanor is kind and respectful. he’d open doors for you, offer his arm while walking, and be attentive without being overwhelming, showing his genuine respect and care.

• rather than grand gestures, stefan plan a quiet moment to watch the sunset together or find a peaceful spot where you can talk privately.

• at the end of the date, stefan would walk you to your doorstep. his goodbye would be heartfelt, leaving you with a feeling of warmth and anticipation for the next time you see him.

[kxsagi]

“𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐡”

a/n: for @levisgoonerr 

ALL I NEED IS ONE MORE DAY WITH HER 😫 GAWDDDD 

i actually wrote a chase atlantic inspired fic with rin and their song friends which is here if anyone wants to check it out 😗

(art credits go to immmso_ko on twitter)

suggestive content inside! 

he meets you in madrid, draped in versace and violet dusk. 

you smell like ysl and trouble, leaning against the bar like you own the city, like your daddy didn’t abandon you at fifteen and leave behind a mansion full of ghosts. the kind of girl who lights a cigarette just to watch it burn out between her fingers. 

sae knows girls like you. 

he’s spent his whole life avoiding them. 

and now he’s five minutes into knowing you and already offering you a drink. 

“you speak japanese?” you ask him, lips curled around the rim of your glass. 

he shrugs. “it was my first language.” 

you arch a brow. “and english?” 

“just enough to get what i want.” 

you laugh, and it’s a sharp thing, like broken champagne flutes. “that so?” 

you tell him you’re just visiting. something about needing a change, needing to breathe. you mention new york in the past tense, paris like it was a phase, LA like it tried to swallow you whole. you wear gucci, but talk like you clawed your way into it. 

“what about you?” you ask. “what’s a guy like you doing alone in a place like this?” 

sae doesn't answer. he never does when the truth is ugly. 

he doesn’t say he’s exhausted by fame, by expectations, by the echo of his own last name. doesn’t say he’s only ever been good at one thing and now that one thing is starting to feel like a cage. doesn’t say that love, real love, always seemed like a scam until you tilted your head and looked at him like he wasn’t some national treasure, but a person. a person with hands in his pockets and insomnia in his bloodstream. 

he just says, “i liked the view.” 

but he’s not looking at the skyline. he’s looking at you. 

so don’t be surprised when two weeks later, you’re wearing his shirt. 

balenciaga on the floor. sex on the walls. he’s brushing your hair back, and you’re telling him things no one else gets to know. 

you talk about your mother’s pills. your father’s mistress. the time you stopped eating just to feel something, anything. you talk like love is a loaded gun, and yet, there you are, pressing the barrel to his chest, waiting for him to pull the trigger. 

“i’ve never met a man who looks this good in silence,” you whisper, tracing his jaw. 

sae’s hand finds your thigh. “i’ve never met a woman who makes it worth breaking it.” 

you smirk. “so break it.” 

and so he does. 

even when you’re a hurricane in a hermès scarf. 

you pout when you don’t get your way, kiss him like you own his breath, leave lipstick on his collar and bruises on his ego. you fight, gosh, you fight. sometimes over nothing. sometimes over the way he forgets to say he misses you. sometimes over the way you disappear for hours with a louis vuitton tote and come back smelling like bergamot and danger. 

but you always come back. 

and he always lets you. 

his friends ask questions. sae doesn’t answer them either. not when they say you’re reckless. not when they say you’ll break his heart. 

he already knows. 

but when you drag him out of his head and into yours, into stolen nights and rooftop laughter and dancing barefoot to the 3 AM sound of chase atlantic pouring from the penthouse speakers, he doesn’t care. 

he’s never known peace like this kind of chaos. 

it’s all proven one morning, when you’re sprawled across his sheets, legs tangled, gucci slides on the carpet, saying, “do you think we’re bad for each other?” 

“definitely.” 

you smile. “good.” 

he brushes a knuckle over your cheek. “you want bad?” 

“no,” you say. “i want you.” 

and it’s terrifying. the way you say it like a confession. like he’s the only place you’ve ever felt safe in, even if you both know he’s anything but. 

even if there’s a photo on your phone. 

him in sweats, coffee in hand, barely awake. you in his hoodie, lips on his cheek. he doesn’t smile often, but in that one, he almost does. it’s soft. too soft for a man who’s spent his life hiding behind goals and gold medals. 

you keep the photo hidden. you only look at it when you’re drunk or lonely or both. and he never asks why, but he sees it once when your phone lights up at night. says nothing. just pulls you closer. 

but one night, you break down. mascara smeared, voice shaking, talking about how every man before him only loved the idea of you. the designer-wrapped, glass-skinned, thousand-dollar lie. 

“what if that’s all i am?” you whisper. 

sae tilts your chin up. 

“you’re a fucking disaster,” he tells you. “but you’re mine.” 

you kiss him like that’s the only truth you’ve ever wanted to hear. 

and months pass. you move in. kind of. your toothbrush ends up next to his. your coat in his closet. your perfume in his sheets. 

people still talk. 

about how you’re too much. 

about how he doesn’t do love. 

about how this won’t last. 

but when you catch his eye across a room, and he walks over without a word, cups your face like you’re something to be worshipped, you don’t care what they say. 

you never needed a fairytale. just a man who could meet you in the ruins and still choose to stay. 

and sae? 

he stays. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[minswriting]

MEDICINE - SPENCER REID X READER

About: The team goes out for drinks after a successful case and Spencer already knows that he’s going to end up taking you home.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, public handjob, public fingering (f), finger sucking, post!prison spencer, smallest mention of hand kink, brief bisexual spencer mention, reader gets fingered in the back of a taxi, spencer gets a handjob in the bar, oral (f), drunk sex, briefest mention of throwing up (doesn’t even happen, just a passing comment), rough sex, guys this is really just dirty porn. if i missed any warnings, just lmk!

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Hey guys! This fic is based off of Medicine by Harry Styles. The lyrics are out of order because they’re meant to go with the story lol. Please comment and reblog with your thoughts! Borders are by cafekitsune here on tumblr!

I'm here to take my medicine, take my medicine

Treat you like a gentleman

Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline

I think I'm gonna stick with it

It was a warm spring night as the team had just returned from a very successful case in Kansas City, Missouri. A case that had involved children being kidnapped had ended with all of the kids being alive and well, returned to their parents unharmed. Seeing the happy faces on the families’ faces was heartwarming and gave the team a sense of fulfillment with their positions, a consensus that not everything is always so traumatic.

When they had landed back in Quantico, the drive back to the Bureau was filled with chatter and laughter as everyone relished in their triumph. You and Spencer were sitting next to one another, thighs grazing as you both paid attention to what Luke and Tara were talking about.

“We should celebrate with a couple of drinks,” Tara exclaimed loudly enough for the rest of the team to hear.

“Oh, that sounds like so much fun,” JJ practically groaned in excitement, leaning her head back. “I haven’t had a night out in ages and the boys are at my mother’s for the weekend while Will is down in New Orleans.”

“We most certainly have to invite Penelope as soon as we arrive at the Bureau,” Emily said from the passenger seat, grinning through the rearview mirror. “What about you two in the back?” Emily asked, looking at you and Spencer.

Spencer gave you a subtle glance with a quirked eyebrow. An unspoken question as to whether you were going to go out or not. If you did, Spencer already knew that he would because you were very persuasive.

You were unsure of how this whole thing started. One day, after Spencer had gotten back from prison, the two of you were alone in the bullpen, and then the next moment you were in the elevator as Spencer fingered you so fast that you had cum in what felt like a record amount of time. That night ended with you in Spencer’s bed as he pounded you into oblivion.

Perhaps it had been a long time in the making. The glances you two shared, the way Spencer always looked at you as though you were an art piece that was to be admired, the way Spencer’s intelligence never failed to make you clench your thighs. Flirtatious comments passed as just comments about the cases.

“I’m down,” You said, smiling at Emily.

And that’s how Spencer knew he was spending his night with you.

If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive

You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it

The bar atmosphere was loud and chaotic with crappy pop music playing over the speakers and drunk people watching the latest baseball game on the television. It wreaked of alcohol, as bars usually do, and sweat with the random people that were dancing to the shitty music drunkenly. Penelope had pulled Luke to the dance floor, dancing stupidly to “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga with JJ following behind. Rossi was playing pool with Matt while Tara and Emily played Darts. Which left you all alone with Spencer in a booth that was in a quiet corner of the bar.

You were sipping some fruity cocktail that Penelope had made you order, exclaiming that it would taste delicious. She was right, of course, but you weren’t going to allow her the satisfaction of knowing that. Spencer had a beer in front of him though it was untouched. He didn’t like to drink much.

“I’m surprised you came out with us,” You said, putting your glass down as you glanced at Spencer. There was an unspoken tension between the two of you. One that told you that you were certainly going home with him tonight. You always do.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders, finally picking up the beer. He slowly brought the glass up to his lips, taking a small sip before grimacing. “Oh, that tastes so bad,” he cringed, putting the glass back down. He licked his lips, still grimacing.

“Now why did you order a beer when you literally hate them?” You asked, laughing as you took another sip of your drink.

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Because Luke told me this brand tastes good and I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt,” He sighed, pushing the glass away.

“Luke also doesn’t have taste when it comes to alcoholic beverages so I’m not entirely sure why you trusted him this time,” You giggled. You held your glass out for Spencer to try. “Here, try this. It tastes much better.”

Spencer looked at the glass in your hands as you held it up to Spencer’s face. He hesitated momentarily before putting his lips on your straw and taking a tentative sip of the cocktail. “That is pretty good,” he said after swallowing, nodding. “Did you know that the Daiquiri is one of the first iconic fruity cocktails as we know them today? It was invented around 1898. But it could be theorized that there were earlier versions of these cocktails.” Spencer rambled, using his hands as he spoke.

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips as you watched Spencer with interest. The way his voice sounded and how his face, which had become hardened from the trauma of prison, relaxed and looked more like himself again, and how excited he got talking about these facts, it never failed to make you swell with both lust and admiration for the genius.

As Spencer went on about alcohol, you ordered him the same drink as yourself. And the two of you enjoyed a nice conversation while drinking. It was always so easy with him, talking about anything and everything under the sun.

You both were on your third drink when you began feeling more flirty. While you guys were away on the case, you and Spencer hadn’t had any time to spend together in your hotel rooms. So of course, you were craving him. You were always craving Spencer.

I had a few, got drunk on you and now I’m wasted

And when I sleep, I’m gonna dream of how you tasted

You put your hand on Spencer’s thigh as he rambled to you about the different types of alcohol and where they derived from. It was an action that Spencer certainly didn’t miss but he didn’t question it either as he continued his sentence. Your hand stayed there for a few moments before slowly moving upward, inching towards his cock. And when you began palming him through his trousers, Spencer stopped speaking entirely, looking at you. “What are you doing?” He hissed out, unable to help the way his cock was immediately hardening under your light touch.

“Relax,” you murmured before looking around, ensuring no one was near you guys. And luckily, no one was. You moved your hand to Spencer’s zipper, unzipping it enough to slip your hand to palm him through his briefs. “No one is paying attention to us,” you said while smirking at Spencer.

Spencer sighed, looking around before looking at you. He should’ve known you were going to pull something like this with the way you’ve been looking at him all night. And in his tipsy and horny mind, he just sits back in the booth, allowing you to work your magic.

You slid your hand under his briefs, grabbing Spencer’s cock. You were careful not to pull it out, wanting to ensure that you could quickly pull away just in case. You began stroking him slowly.

Spencer tried his best to keep his face neutral and to not let any noises escape, not wanting to draw attention to the two of you. But it was hard when your hand always felt so much better wrapped around his cock than his own. He glanced around at the busy bar, grateful that everyone was so caught up in their own thing to notice he had your hand in his pants. “This is so risky,” he said shakily, swallowing as he looked at you.

You hummed in acknowledgment, nodding your head. You were close to him but to the people around it would look as though you were just flirting with one another. Underneath the table, however, was a completely different story. “And yet, you love it,” You giggled, moving your pace a bit faster as your thumb swiped Spencer’s tip.

Spencer gasped as he tried not to buck his hips into your hand. He bit his lip, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he opened them again. “You’re such a menace,” He rasped out, trying to appear as though he had his composure.

“I know,” You beamed, still moving your hand underneath the table. You leaned in to whisper into Spencer’s ear. “Just imagine what you can do to me tonight,” You whispered. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to my body.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, looking at you with a heated expression. It didn’t take long until he felt himself getting close, the way your hand was moving and your thumb swiping the tip, the thrill of the fact that this was happening in public, and the alcohol messing with his breath certainly added to the feeling. And you could tell Spencer was close with the way his cock stiffened in your hand.

“Atta boy,” You whispered into his ear. “You like this so much,” You cooed, keeping up the appearance that this was nothing more than a flirtatious interaction.

And that was all it took before Spencer was biting his lip so hard that he swore he drew blood as he came in his briefs, coating your hand and the fabric with his cum. You stroked him through his orgasm before removing your hand. You grabbed a napkin off of the table and wiped your hand, pulling away from Spencer in the process.

“Well that was certainly fun,” You exclaimed before taking another sip of your drink.

Spencer looked at you with a dazed expression for a few seconds before clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. “I suppose,” He said hoarsely before reaching for his own drink and sipping it.

The last time Spencer had gotten a handjob in public was when he met up with Ethan after school one day and they gave each other handjobs behind the bleachers at the football field. It was like his only sexual experience for the longest time.

Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes

Tingle running through my bones

The boys and the girls are in

I mess around with them

And I'm okay with it

You and Spencer had two more drinks before he whispered into your ear. “Let’s get out of here,” his breath hot against the shell of your ear. You were both thoroughly buzzed, making the situation even hotter.

You nodded your head, giggling at Spencer as your cheeks were warm from the heat of the alcohol. He was the same way, a smirk lying on his lips as he looked at you with reddened cheeks. He had taken off his sweater, holding it in his arms. Without bothering to say goodnight to the rest of the team, you and Spencer left the bar, stumbling as you guys were laughing and hanging onto one another. Nothing was particularly funny but you were both intoxicated which was a rarity for the two of you and of course, you were going to relish it.

You and Spencer managed to call down a cab, getting into the back of it as Spencer told the driver the address. The two of you were sitting next to one another in the back of the cab pretty close, whispering and giggling. Spencer draped the sweater over your lap, a seemingly innocent gesture if it weren’t for what he whispered into your ear. “You know, two can play at this game,” He whispered.

“What game?” You whispered back, glancing at the taxi driver, who was paying no mind to you, before looking back at Spencer.

He simply raised his eyebrows at you, that familiar smirk on his lips that he’s held for the past hour or so. “You think you can just do what you did to me in the bar without any repercussions, sweetheart?” He asked as he put his hand underneath the sweater on your lap, his fingers moved underneath your skirt to rest on your thigh.

Your eyes widened with realization as his hands touched your skin. You couldn’t deny your arousal at the idea, knowing that when you mess with Spencer, he will mess with you back. The only thing separating you and the taxi driver was a partition between the seats that was opened just a crack. “H-here?” You stuttered quietly, suddenly losing the confidence that you had earlier in the night.

Spencer nodded his head, looking at you with a teasing but also heated expression. His fingers inched up your thigh, causing you to instinctively open your legs as you looked at Spencer. Your lips were parted and your cheeks flushed from the heat. You knew you guys shouldn’t do this. You shouldn’t have even given Spencer a handjob in the middle of a bar. Perhaps it was the alcohol, the buzz making your brain fuzzy. Or perhaps it was just because of Spencer. You two always drove one another crazy.

Who cared about logic and reason when the sex was always so intense and amazing?

The two of you were quiet, not wanting to alert the taxi driver as Spencer kept your legs covered with his sweater. He moved his fingers to your pussy, feeling how wet you were through your underwear, making you bite your lip. He simply leaned in to kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear. “You’re practically soaking,” He whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded your head, not trusting yourself to whisper back. Spencer kept himself close to you, inching his fingers to move the fabric of your panties to the side. He used his pointer finger to touch your slit, spreading around the wetness. The feeling caused you to audibly gasp, making your eyes widen.

The taxi driver heard the gasp and looked at the two of you through the rearview mirror. “Is everything alright?” He asked, voice gruff.

Spencer spoke for the two of you, coming up with a lie that could satisfy the driver. “She had too much to drink so she’s feeling a bit queasy,” He said smoothly.

“Please don’t throw up in my cab,” The driver responded before looking back at the road.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Spencer reassured before looking back at you. His finger dipped between your folds and into your hole with much ease, causing you to bite your lip even harder. You tried not to make any other noises, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. Spencer watched the way you reacted, the way your body tensed at his touch. He slowly moved his finger in and out of you, trying not to go too fast as he didn’t want the sound of your slick to alert the taxi driver.

You were trying your hardest not to make any noise. It was always hard though. Spencer’s fingers were so long and always knew how to hit the right places even if he wasn’t trying. He knew how to finger you into a whining mess and with your intoxicated brain, it was even harder to control yourself.

Spencer added a second finger, keeping that slow but pleasurable rhythm. You were indeed soaking as Spencer had mentioned earlier. Your breathing was shaky as you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s wrist to hold onto something. You moved yourself a bit to rest your head on Spencer’s shoulder. The sudden curl of Spencer’s fingers, hitting your g-spot dead on, made you let out the tiniest of whimpers, muffled by his shirt, luckily enough.

And just as you felt that heat building inside of you, the taxi came to a stop right outside Spencer’s building, causing Spencer to pull away from you. “Thank you,” he said to the driver, grabbing a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket with his clean hand and handing it to the man before you both exited the car.

And as the taxi driver scurried off, Spencer looked around and then at you, that same smirk from earlier on his lips. “I didn’t get to see you fall apart, how sad,” he said with a mock pout on his lips. He brought the fingers still coated with your juices to your lips, an unspoken demand for you to suck.

You, being the wonderful person you were, obeyed without any hesitation, wrapping your lips around the digits and lapping your tongue as you tasted yourself. You looked at Spencer with doe eyes, appearing to be all innocent when you were anything but.

I’m here to take my medicine, take my medicine

Rest it on my fingertips

And up to your mouth, I’m feelin it out

I’m feelin it now

You felt like a whore, standing in the middle of the street with Spencer’s fingers in your mouth. Part of you was grateful that it was an ungodly hour and most normal people were asleep, meaning no one was in the street. Spencer watched as you sucked on his fingers. You were truly a sight to behold.

“Naughty girl,” he murmured, his other hand coming up to caress your cheek softly. To say he was addicted to you would be an understatement. Since that first day, the two of you slept together, he was hooked. Hell, he was hooked even before then. The countless nights he spent jerking himself off as he thought about fucking you would be embarrassing if you were to ever find out.

And now that Spencer has had you? He’s never letting go.

The two of you stumbled into the apartment building, holding onto one another. On the elevator, after pressing the buttons, Spencer began attacking your lips with his, kissing you so messily and hungrily, with both hands on your cheeks. It was the first kiss of the night, one that held all the pent-up emotions the two of you had been feeling. You kissed Spencer with the same veracity, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. Spencer gently nipped at your bottom lip, causing you to part them as he used his tongue to explore your mouth.

The two of you moved in sync, making out with one another. You could taste the alcohol that coated Spencer’s mouth just as he could taste it on you as well, the tastes blending. Spencer’s hands left your cheeks, moving down to your hips to pull you closer to him. You could feel his bulge pressing into you, causing you to clench your thighs. You two were lost in one another, dizzy from the alcohol and the endorphins being released.

If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive

You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it

We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh

La-la-da-da, da

We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh

La-la-da-da, da

The elevator dinging brought you both back to reality as Spencer pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. The look in his eyes showed need and want, your expression mirroring his as you looked back at him. Smiles crept onto your faces as you looked at one another. And when the elevator doors opened, Spencer simply grabbed your hand, the two of you stumbling and giggling as you made your way to his apartment down the hall.

Upon reaching his apartment door, Spence let go of your hand to grab his keys from his pocket, fumbling around with them until he grabbed the right one and put it into the keyhole. He opened the door, allowing you to step in first and Spencer followed suit. He closed the door behind himself, placing his keys in the bowl next to his door.

You placed your bag down along with the sweater of Spencer’s that you were still holding before turning towards him. And without giving him any chance to make the first move, you kissed him roughly, wanting to just consume him and be consumed by him. Spencer laughed against your lips, slightly taken aback by your actions but it certainly wasn’t unwelcomed. He kissed you just as roughly, his hands going to your hips once more.

Spencer took control of the kiss, his lips dominating yours as he gained control. As the two of you moved in sync, Spencer began gently pushing you around the apartment. However, he underestimated his coordination when he accidentally made you bump into his bookshelf, causing a few books to fall and for you to pull away. “Whoops,” you shrugged before kissing Spencer again.

The walk to the bedroom was an adventurous one, to say the least. The two of you had bumped into the table, the couch, and a vase fell onto the floor that Spencer will have to worry about in his hungover state in the morning. And when you eventually got into the bedroom, well, Spencer was more a bit grateful as he knew nothing would be in the way from the door to the bed.

As soon as you entered the bedroom, Spencer moved his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling away from the kiss to take it off of you, throwing the material somewhere in the room. Underneath your shirt, you were wearing a sage green lace bra that Spencer adored on you so much. “You’re so beautiful,” Spencer spoke huskily, licking his lips. “You know how much I adore this on you.”

“I figured I’d likely end up at yours tonight somehow,” You smiled smugly at Spencer’s reaction.

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment before reaching to the buttons of his shirt and unbuttoning them. He tosses the shirt somewhere around the room before moving his attention back to you. He leaned in to kiss your jawline, making his way down your neck as his fingers messed with the zipper of your skirt. He fumbled with the zipper for a moment as he licked your pulse point, nipping at it slightly, and causing you to gasp. He undid the zipper, allowing the skirt to fall to the floor.

You tilted your head to the side, giving Spencer more access to your neck as he kissed, nipped, and sucked, leaving marks along your skin. Your breathing was uneven with how turned on you were. You reached down to Spencer’s pants, palming his cock through the material and causing him to groan against your skin. He pulled away from your neck, grabbing your hand. “None of that,” he gently reprimanded. “Go sit on the bed for me.”

You frowned for just a moment but obliged, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress. Spencer followed you, immediately dropping to his knees in front of you and that’s how you knew you were in for an exquisite treat. Although, this was a treat that you indulged in very, very frequently.

Spencer didn’t speak as his fingers moved to the waistband of your panties, pulling them off of you and putting them into his pant pocket. You quirked an eyebrow at Spencer who, in return, gave you a cheeky grin. He placed his hands on your knees, spreading your legs for you to show your glistening cunt. His mouth instantly watered at the sight in front of him. “Fuck, you’re so incredibly wet,” He groaned, licking his lips with anticipation.

“Been wet all night,” You breathed out, watching Spencer with a heated expression in your eyes. “Need it so bad, Spence.”

“I know, baby, you’re going to get it, don’t worry,” was all Spencer said before he dived right in, licking a stripe against your cunt.

You moaned, lying your back on the mattress as Spencer worked his magic against your cunt. His tongue began running laps, taking in all of your juices. When you and Spencer first began this sort of friends with benefits situation, you didn’t know just how much Spencer loved eating your cunt. You figured he did it simply to make you feel good. But then, afterwards, when you saw that blissful and dazed look in his eyes, you knew he loved it just as much as you did, thrived on it even. If Spencer could spend the rest of his life between your thighs, you were sure he would die a happy man.

Spencer moved his arms to wrap around your thighs, pulling your cunt closer to his face. He began to practically make out with it, his lips playing with your clit and sucking on it. When Spencer ate pussy, he ATE pussy. The usual calm and collected man would eat you out like he had never had a proper meal in his life, making sure to bask in your juices. He was messy with it in the best possible way.

You reached your hand to intertwine your fingers into his brown curls, tugging at his hair as you moaned loudly. Your head was thrown back in pleasure, your other hand going to your chest and massaging the flesh. “Feels so good,” you whined.

Spencer moaned, sending vibrations against your pussy and causing you to jolt from the pleasure. His tongue dipped into your hole as his nose rubbed against your clit. He shook his head, burying it deeper into your cunt. You felt that familiar heat building inside of you, the one you had begun to feel earlier in the taxi but it had been ripped away from you so quickly. This time, however, it wasn’t going to be ripped away from you.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned, moving your hips against Spencer’s face. “So close, please don’t stop!”

And he didn’t. Spencer continued to eat you out, slurping, sucking, licking your cunt. Part of him wished he was underneath you, letting you use his face until you were satisfied, covering him in your juices. But this was great too as he got to control just how much of your pussy he got to breathe in. Spencer sucked your clit, sending you over the edge as you arched your back and clamped your thighs shut, squeezing Spencer’s face in the process as you moaned his name in that sexy way that never failed to make his cock throb. God, he needed to fuck you.

When you relaxed, breathing heavily as you opened your eyes to look at Spencer, he pulled away, licking his lips in the process. His face was absolutely glistening with your juices and his eyes were blown out. He was the embodiment of pussy drunk.

I had a few, got drunk on you and now I’m wasted

Spencer stood up, wiping his chin with his hand before moving to unzip his pants. His movements were rushed as he fumbled around to get them off. “Need you so bad,” he said, kicking his pants to the side before taking his cum-stained briefs off. His cock sprung out of the briefs, making him let out a small groan of relief. It was so red, angry from the lack of attention. Which is funny because he literally came just a few hours ago.

You looked at Spencer, biting your lip as you looked at his cock. Eight inches and not too girthy but he knew exactly how to use it. He always made you feel so good with his cock. Your pussy throbbed at the thought, ready to get railed by Spencer. It’s all you’ve been wanting the past few days.

You didn’t say anything as Spencer grabbed your legs, pulling you closer to him. He rested your legs on his shoulders before grabbing his cock, guiding it to your entrance. He didn’t bother to tease himself like he usually did by rubbing his cock up and down your cunt. The two of you were still woozy from the alcohol, that and the hormones, it was going to be quite a ride.

Spencer looked down at you, taking in your beauty as you looked up at him. It was a moment of softness between the two of you as you just gazed at one another. A tenderness that was rare. And just as quick as it had come, it was just as quickly removed as Spencer slammed his cock inside of you without warning, causing you to let out a loud gasp. He didn’t stop until he was fully in, only then did he allow you time to adjust.

It took you a few minutes to adjust to Spencer. He wasn’t always rough with you but you knew tonight that you both needed it. And after the pain subsided, you began squirming, unable to help yourself. You were needy and just wanted Spencer to fuck you.

“Why are you already squirming?” Spencer asked as he raised an eyebrow at you with a smirk on his lips. “Haven’t even started,” he said as he held onto your legs.

You let out a small whine. “Want you to move,” you said, a small pout gracing your lips.

Spencer hummed in acknowledgement. He didn’t give you a chance to say anything else when he pulled his hips back and then slammed back into you, pressing his cock deep inside of you.

You let out a choked moan, instantly gripping the sheets below you. Spencer moved his hips like that a few more times, his pace tantalizingly slow, before gradually picking up the pace. “S-so good,” you whimpered.

Spencer was never one to shy away from making noises. He moaned as his cock moved inside of you, feeling your walls around him. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned as he slammed his hips into you.

The sounds that escaped you sounded pornographic as Spencer moved inside of you. His cock was hitting your g-spot dead on. His thrusts were hard and rhythmic, exactly how you loved it. Spencer moved your legs, bending them towards your chest and holding them there as he thrusted into you more deeply. The change of angle makes your moans more high-pitched.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin as Spencer’s bed creaked from the roughness of his thrusts. The slick of your cunt was also heard as Spencer’s cock drilled into you. He began to pick up the pace. “You feel so good, baby, oh my god,” Spencer moaned, looking down at you.

You were truly a sight to behold. Your tits bounced with every thrust, your hair sprawled out on the mattress, your face was contorted with pleasure. Your whines and moans were truly like music to his ears. Spencer knew he wouldn’t last long at all, especially with the way your cunt was gripping his cock. He reached down, using his fingers to rub your clit.

“I-oh fuck!” You whimpered, throwing your head back in pleasure. “Spencer!”

“That’s it, princess,” Spencer let out a whine of own, relishing in the pleasure. “Gonna cum for me?”

You nodded your head pathetically as you looked up at the handsome genius. His curls were sticking to his forehead as he pounded into you. The feeling of his cock inside of you and fingers rubbing your clit was enough to have you feeling close again. “So close, Spence,” you moaned.

“Me too, baby, me too.” Spencer breathed out.

With a few more thrusts and rubs of your clit, you were moaning Spencer’s name so loudly as your back arched and head was thrown back, your cunt clamping around Spencer’s cock. That was all it took for Spencer to bury himself deep inside of you, cumming with a loud moan as he filled you with his seed.

And when you both were finished, Spencer pulled out before lying down on the bed next to you and taking you into his arms. You were both dazed and dizzy from all the different feelings. You both were also breathing heavily, coming down from the intense sensations. You snuggled into Spencer, unable to help the tiny giggle that escaped your lips which Spencer also returned.

When Spencer awoke the next morning with a throbbing headache, he was ready to just get up and take a bunch of acetaminophen to make it go away. But the feeling of having you in his arms made the thought dissipate when he could just spend the day sleeping next to you instead. Because you were the only medicine he really needed.

If you go out tonight, I’m going out tonight ‘cause I know you’re persuasive

[chlmtsdoll]

hear me out

reader and girl friends dancing and drinking at a nightclub after work when one of the girls says something like "holy shit, look at those two, they're hot"

when reader turns to look, she sees Patrick and Art laughing and having fun together

"i want the brunette one", one says, "are you crazy? look at the blonde, how hot he is", another responds.

"fifty bucks for whoever gets both"

reader smiles. it's showtime.

OH? IT’S GIVING SATC 🤭

This was supposed to be short but I got carried away I’m afraid ! 🎀 | 18 + smut, p in v unprotected sex, oral (m) receiving, heavy obnoxious flirting, kinda messy reader

When the club had been this crowded with a full dance floor and beautiful men nearly everywhere you looked, finally letting loose after a long work week with your girls was enough motivation to get the confidence pumping between the three of you.

Your friends were frozen. Facing the the bar area where this six foot blonde and brunette were standing, laughing like everything around them was funny. One had an infectious grin, hair untamed and a tight dark skirt that show cased his brooding arms. He was the tallest and had ‘a party girls wet dream’ written all over him. The other slightly more polished, could pass for the stereotypical Ken doll type with his charming smile, sterling blue eyes with golden locks combination. You couldn’t find why he would be here, he looked like the only interested in finding a wife type.

Either way, the two men had your thighs pushing against one another the second the girls began chattering about. And once you heard ‘fifty bucks for whoever can get both’ your ears were all game.

“Oh, I am so in. That brunette is scorching.”

“And ? Look at that blondes jawline, bitch.”

“Double the pay if they both finish.” You announce. Both of your girlfriend’s locks go up in the air as they whip around to see the smirk pulling at your lips. They quickly take upon one of their own as well.

“Oh… the competition just got serious.” One of them says.

“It’s been serious. Those guys are totally loaded..” The other comments.

Your eyebrow dips. “What makes you think that ?”

“Oh come on, what two guys that hot are going to come to the club and not be looking to spend their cash on a girl ?”

Her theory wasn’t too out of range. There was something quite different from the boys across from you all. Setting them apart from the other clueless guys around just trying to get as drunk as they possibly can. There was a more tamed and calculated aura to these two. Something that made them not only sexy, but stand out profoundly.

“..or, they could just be gay.” The other girl replies casually and the three of you burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, shut up!”

You giggle, slightly rolling your eyes to land on the two men occasionally eyeing the dance floor as if they’re considering joining in the crowd. And that’s when you caught the gaze of the one with the darker head of hair, he flashed you a smile that sent a thrill straight to your core. You tried not to blush so terribly your friends would be on to you and raise the stakes.

But you couldn't help but ponder if they’d been right too — not about the gay thing, but if they truly we’re packing bills.

And soon you found yourself worrying less about what was in you and your friends wallets, and whatever was in theirs.

“Okay. Let’s get in there. Game on.”

You and your girls were heading over to the bar, tight mini skirts and all with just the right amount of cleavage on display for your upcoming play date. And with hardly any nerves that you’d loose to the two, knowing you had it locked in with the way you just got checked out hard from the brunette all the way across the bar had your hopes high.

As you all were now getting ready to own that bar area, you let your friends have a try at playing with the men first — and it was certainly quite amusing to watch them try to flirt with both the blonde and brunette at the same time.

With fingers twirling in their hair, laughing a little too hysterically at whatever was said and trying to keep both of their attention, you wondered from observation if it crossed them that it wasn’t as easy as they’d think. One of the boys was either off staring at another cute girl or just looking for a drink when your friends hadn’t been trying to sweet talk them into a little more fun. The most they got was a couple flattering laughs from the two.. and you couldn’t help but chuckle yourself, their game play was adorable.

But they failed where you knew best. Multitasking.

So when it was your turn to get your head in the game, one of your friends walking past you in defeat from her attempt whispered, “totally gay.” in your ear post her rejection from the charming boys. You tried not to laugh in her face but you did crack and grin.

You were up next. And you wasted no time going in.

You played it all out in your head within a few minutes of taking note of the two and also of course where your friends lacked. It would be an easy job especially since you spent your week trying to sell to people at work. You knew charm like the back of your hand — soon enough you’d be making out with these guys in the back of the club in no time.

Hips swayed without any real effort as you found where the brunette had been standing nearby the vault of vodka and steely liquor at the bar. Purposefully leaning against the counter and close enough to his side for him to hear you call to get one of the bartenders attention, “Um- - could I get another drink ??” You attempted. But with it being rush hour, they'd all been too occupied.

And that’s when your plan started to make the magic happen.

The towering man beside you glanced over his shoulder at your presence, noticing you weren’t getting any luck with the attention of the bartenders and he inspected your soft and sweetened voice pretty quickly. But also with just how edible he thought you were from earlier, “what do you want, doll face ?” he turned to face you with a grin that was as overwhelmingly striking as they come. It could have made any girl want to drop her panties at the sight. And his voice sounded as if he knew that he absolutely could, “it’s packed in here, yeah ? I’ll get someone for you.”

If it wasn’t for your determination, you would have erupted into a melted pile on the ground after he winked down at you. “Oh- no, it’s fine. I’m sure my friends annoyed you enough.” You laughed lightly and he joined along with you.

“Nah, they’re cute girls… but I gotta admit, I was kinda hopin’ you’d be the one to come over and annoy me a little bit.” His eyes focused on the way your lips curled up into a swayed smile and your face was flustered quicker than the flashing lights on the ceiling. He could be bluffing. And he probably was. Even though that was supposed to be your job here — it was totally working.

You titter, “..really ?”

“Really.”

“Well than, I guess I stumbled into the right spot.” (You wanted to pat yourself on the back. You’d been farther ahead than you even assumed.) “What do they call you ?”

“Patrick, a hell of a fun time, Zweig. Your pick.” his tongue darted out to wet his lips before he took a swing of his drink, and you were all laugher as his green eyes followed you from over the rim.

This was when you could implement the gorgeous blonde to his right — eyeing off to a couple of girls on the floor. With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you step a little closer to Patrick, glance going from him to other handsome work of art beside. The space getting less and less personal between you two didn’t scare him either.

“Well, Patrick… who’s your friend- - ?” Your eyes darted to where he stood and the brunette hit his poor friend in the chest to get his attention on you, when he did, you noticed the uniqueness of his eyes up close. You could of seen it from across the bar — but this is another level. Some kind of otherworldly matter, it got you choked up for a moment.

He was about to make you bank.

“This is Art.”

Of course it is.

Your were trying not to drool as you took a little too long to examine the way Art leaned up with a miniature straw pressed against his pretty lips with a soft sideways smirk,

“I think he’s a cutie..” You sputter as you bit your lip with a cheeky smile. Trying not to get lost in Arts gaze — you had to remember the goal, get your head in the game to why you’d walked over here in the first damn place.

“I think you’re both pretty cute..”

“Yeah?” Patrick chuckled and grinned at his friend, they looked at each other like it had been some hidden kind of communication. Like they already knew what the other was trying to say telepathically. That was a signal to you that this was for sure a package deal — you’d have both of them tonight. Not only did they welcome it, but they’d probably been here for that exact motive.

Art gave you a little smile, “We had our eye on you the whole night honestly, so that’s good to know…”

There it is.

You laughed a bit and shrugged. Eyes following back to the darker haired one. “So I heard..”

“How come you aren’t out there?” Art nodded to the dance floor full of bodies, his eyes ran over you, “you’re a stunning girl.. no way none of these guys asked you to dance.”

You hoped to god you weren’t getting flustered. They’re just boys. Ones that you needed to be bedded by till the sun came up, but still.

“I’m- uh.. a bit shy.” (You weren’t. You had your fair share of men in and out of your apartment. Not as stunning as Art and Patrick although, so making them feel extra special wasn’t too much of a stretched truth.) “so it’s rare I even talk to guys.. but you two- - I just had to say something.” You giggled and they were leaning into your laughter with their own. You could swear you smelled Burberry cologne being sent your way from one of them, if not both. Maybe your friends had been right about the wealth.

Art and Patricks attention had been solidly on you. And you didn’t know if it was the way you decided to style your hair tonight, and the way you made sure to keep lustful but sweet eyes between them, or if your friends just sucked at flirting. But you were already yearning to keep this going.

It was time to throw them a curve to lock in their undivided for the rest of the night.

“Well- - I should get back to my friends, they probably think it’s way odd of me to even be over here..” you tittered with a soft goodbye smile as you began to turn away from the men and before you could even step away from the countertop, “wait!” was being called your way from over your shoulder.

A smirk was ridden on your lips once again. You turned back to face their pitch with curiosity.

“Stay a little longer?” Patrick asked of you with a beam.

“Yeah, let us buy you a drink.. what are you? An espresso?”

“No. Man, she’s a cosmo girl, trust me. You are- - aren’t you?” When the brunette corrected his friend, blue and green orbs focused on your answer in desperation you’d keep them a little more company. And you couldn’t help your decisive but giddy expression that was all too pleased with your work here.

“I am actually, yes.” You chuckled before taking a stand between the two tall and handsome men with much more than a quick fuck and collecting your rewards on your mind now. You actually sort of liked them. And that was rare with any man you’d meet doing an activity like clubbing, especially two of them.

As time went on, Art and Patrick were racking up on buying you drink after drink. As many as you wanted. Within as little as an hour that passed, you’d been with the two boys as if you’d known them your entire life. It could have been borderline love bombing with how fast you went from zero to a hundred. Both men simultaneously wrapping their arms around you from behind, laughing loudly as you’d been glued between the two of them. Even dancing in ways more than a couple flirts could have gotten you.

The boys were more than happy to keep tipping the bartenders with haughty smirks after getting you sparked up and hanging on their arms of course, even having one too many of their own. The three of you took it to the lounge area and your friends would be somewhere watching in disbelief and slight envy of how quickly you were able to get handsy with Art and Patrick.

You’d been passed back and forth on their laps as you chatted and even snuck a couple kisses by now. Totally giddy off their energy and the liquids they’d been giving you. The way Art had slipped his wallet back into his back pocket after buying you another drink, was a straight turn on to the point you’d been sticking sugary kisses to his neck as he did so with a couple playful bites, the man grinned at your bubbly essence. Your not so careful hands slid up his chest and slung over his shoulders, “Mmm- -You’re the sweet one aren’t you?” You giggle, finger tips run over his jaw and Art bit down on his peachy lip while he held on to your hips nice and easy, yet with a respectful distance. He couldn’t find the words to define the way he’d been enjoying the way you stroked his ego all night long.

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s actually a menace.” Patrick scoffed as he sat man spread in the seat across from you two with a cigarette in hand.

“Fuck off.” His friend defended lightly. It was the way you could tell he enjoyed the playful banter when Patrick poked at him tonight that solidified to you just how close they really were. You thought it was adorable.

“You two really do everything together, huh?” You toyed with Arts now loose collar, casually sipping on something clear with flirtatious eyes, and the man shrugged a bit as he glanced at the brunette across from him who was hiding a sardonic kind of look behind his glass.

“I mean, well- - somethings..” The blonde nodded with a soft smile, but you raised a brow. “Most things.” He corrected, he and Patrick narrowed eyes at one another. You noticed with a devious little hum at the way the blonde had still been holding back. It made your lips turn up with a grin, watching between the two as Art struggled to confess the obvious. “Okay. Yeah- kind of.. everything.” With a flustered look towards the brunette, Arts eyes trailed off with a sort of blush as you leaned into his shoulder. All close to the blue eyed man getting harshly coy now.

“That’s so cute. Like brothers..” you smiled in Patrick’s direction and he immediately let out heavy laughter.

“Not exactly.” The other man grinned. You tilted your head some, and looked at Art again with wonder in your eyes.

“Like.. lovers ?” Your eyes were wide as you focused on the blonde and he shook his head and drowned out his flustered expression with a swing from his glass. Patrick had smirked at your final conclusion, but still, the two gave you not a significant confirmation spite lingering looks and the newfound heat coming from Arts body.

Holy fuck

not just one, but both your friends had been right.

You were already one step ahead with more questions to coax out of the two if a bartender hadn’t interrupted with a new round of shots and your mind was quickly occupied as you ‘ooo’d’ at the tray being set beyond you. Patrick met your gaze and grinned. “Baby, come take one with me,” you were cheerfully being swapped from Arts lap to Patrick’s — bouncing over his way and also grabbing a shot with him.

A quick clink of your glasses filled the air along with your energetic giggles as the man who groped you with firmness in his lap contrast Art, drowned the substance at the same time. Patricks roaming hands were coarse and just as bold as he was when you straddled him after letting the liquor flow down your throat with ease, you wiped your stained lips with the back of your palm.

“Shit.. you took that so well, pretty girl..” Patrick took the glass from your hands, his hooded eyes stayed on you with a smirk. You brushed your fingers over the light stubble to his chin and leaned in close,

“I can take a lot of things pretty well.” You whispered so only he could hear with a smile, you scanned the area proudly as you were very aware of the show you’d been putting up all night. Patrick shifted in his seat with arousal, lips inches away from yours so you went in deep with a kiss.

The man groaned, “Is that so?” He pushed your hips farther into his lap as you’d been lipping off his jaw with a prideful giggle. You were messing with the hem of his shirt as you remembered you still had your own benefit of the deal to seal — getting the boys somewhere you could have your way with them. You came this far, why stop now when you’d been so close to victory?

“Mmhm… want me to show you how?”

Your words were music to the brunettes ears. His eyebrows rose as he watched you lean up with a grin, intertwining your fingers through his knuckles and Patrick stood as you were able to grab Arts attention too. Abruptly stripping him of his seat as well. “oh- - we’re going somewhere else..” the blonde rushed to follow where you’d been leading for a little more privacy. A secluded vip party section that you were a hundred percent not allowed in without a fee — but something about the trespassing turned you on even more. With a finger to your lips, you gave the two a silent “shh” along with your little grin and lustful eyes. They were all in with thrill and eager hands to get on you anyways.

You had gone to the nervously flattered one first. Taking his hands to wrap them around your waist, you stood on your toes to press your lips against his, carefully moving your jaw with Art’s and melting into the dance of it on instant. Your fingertips crawl through his butterscotch tinted curls like you couldn’t get enough. And Art went to a little bit of a risk, he didn’t stop his hands from slipping down to grip your ass beneath your tight skirt.

“Mmm.. easy blondie- -” you giggled with a soft push to his collarbone so he’d been a tad away from you once again, and Art finally let himself breathe with a mumbled curse coming from his lips.

You then made your way to the brunette beside him — but before you could even take your stance, the man pulled you in without a warning. Pressing his broad body against you as he collided his mouth with yours in one swift motion and your whimpers had been an immediate reaction by the way Patrick left sloppy kisses wherever he could. Down your neck, over the top of your chest. You grinned as you eyed the man next to him while Patrick tore into your skin.

You found the vile rising tent in Arts jeans quite cute.

You let your hand trail to where his button began and you undid it as quick as you could with the way Patrick had been holding your body like some kind of rag doll. Art helped you unzip them, and when Patrick had flung you around so your back was flush against his chest, your jaw was unleashed as you squealed.

“You really aren’t shy are you?” His voice was richer than before — full of the whisky and pent up from the foreplay of the last hour making you let out a loose laugh while the man pushed past your messy hair to kiss on your neck.

“I am- - but even the quite ones have our needs.. right, Art?”

The blonde let out a coy chuckle before his blush took over more of his expression and with that you had been hiking up your skirt to tuck your thumbs into the hem of your panties to pull them down your thighs. “Oh, shit.. shit” Art was already softly groaning as you used his undone belt buckle as leverage to get the lacy pair from your feet and he watched with overwhelming interest in the way Patrick caught your drift and started to get his own belt gone faster than you got them into that room.

“Fuck” Patrick, equally aroused, groaned when he had got his hardened dick out of his boxers. Your mind was so clouded from the tension of the way he grabbed on to your clothed breasts behind your top, rummaging to find your sensitive nipples — you were panting from the friction of his throbbing member that was far ready to fuck you senseless, just brushing against your upper thigh. You bit down on your lip hard as you looked up at the finely built man behind you who had a smirk stuck to his face before he toyed at your already slick pussy with his fingers.

“Go on… put it in- -” your drunken mind went fuzzy when the dark haired man started to slide through your walls, your hand went slapping against whatever you could reach in the confined space you’d been in as a full moan escaped you — your eyes fluttered from the way Patrick stretched you open on his cock. Keeping both hands on your hips so you didn’t fall over as your legs already begun to go weak. He didn’t even hesitate to plunge into you with a grunt. “I wasn’t- - even planning on.. fucking you tonight, but fuck, I knew you wanted it.” Patrick groaned out while he snapped his hips against your ass and you turned into a mess of whimpers. You’d been in a slight arch for his entrance, cunt clenching around his length so much so you were sure to turn into a stuttering mess within minutes.

Arts reddened cock was on your mind as he’d been right ahead of you just in reach of your sloppy fuck with the brunette. And as “Oh ! Fuck.. yes, yes” was being thrusted out of you, you still reached out to start stroking him. Art hissed on contact with your warm palms on his shaft like you’d been a pro. And he was gorgeous, eyebrows knitted away as he melted into your heavenly coax of his dick, stiff enough to cum right then just from the voyeurism of it all.

“Baby.. faster- - just like that..” Art groaned before putting a hand on your waist that was being rutted by his friend. You spit on your hand quickly before going back to use it on Art. Your legs were in fact giving out — but the bliss due to the man fucking into you was just too good to let go to waste.

“Patrick..keep fucking me- - mmm.. please, it feels so-so good.” You whine while your wetness sticks to the curve of your inner thighs, you could hear the man’s haughty snicker run through your ears. He was now digging his fingers into your hips, slowing his movements to watching himself pump in and out of your hole with rhythm.

“Hold still, sweet girl.. I’m gonna make you cum- -”

That wasn’t what you needed. But what the heck.

With Patrick pounding a couple cries out of you down the line, he'd been putting his hands roughly in your hair to push you over the ledge as you began to make a mess on his twitching cock. “Mmmh.. f-fuck- yes..!” You couldn’t give a damn at how loud you were being. Your creamy juices were left on the man as he wasted no time to pull out of you and start pumping away at his cock on your backside. Using the wall as a rest with his damp curls stuck to his forehead, he released ropes of his cum on to the dip of your back with a low grunt. By the time he tapped the last few drops on your ass, you had a teasing little hazy smile on your face and Patrick held you up again like used goods.

You got one down. You already knew with a few strokes of your tongue, Art would have that sweet release too. So you got on your knees without a question and attached your generous lips around the blondes member. He closed his eyes to feel the heated wetness of your mouth closing on him. “Oh god,” he panted as you suctioned your lips around his tip. Te naughtiest kind of sounds leaving you while you sucked a climax from Art at the same time. The feeling of his cock down your throat, mixed with the moaning through the moment his cum flows through, made your mouth feel totally full and fucked out. Art cursed at the way you looked so pretty taking him on your knees like this — but he thought you were far too comely to be down there for long, so as soon as you swallowed he helped you rise to your feet with a small stumble, but the man managed to keep you aligned as he grabbed hold of you with a soft grin.

“You’re too good, even drunk. I mean, shit..” Patrick panted as he observed your state. Just like before. Arms flung over Arts shoulders as you leaned into him with flirtatiousness.

“You fuck good.” You eyed him back, your voice was a little too impressed to the brunette, but he was appreciative of the acknowledgement. You had focused on the blonde again, whose chest was against yours, running your finger over his cheek in playfulness with a small giggle.

“And you have to play Ken in me next time..”

He looked down as he just couldn’t help himself but shy away from your compliment. “next time, huh ?” Art questioned with a soft chuckle, You nodded and kept your place temptingly close to the blondes lips. “Well then, we’ve gotta get you home first.”

After Patrick and Art insisted on paying for your Uber back to your apartment, they were also nearly begging for your number as well — and after a few waters to sober up, and a kind hearted snap of your seatbelt from one of the boys, you eventually did give in.

You nearly forgot you had a pay to pick up from your friends at your hangover brunch the next morning, and of course the girls wanted all the details about everything from the previous night while bills were paid to you gladly.

You planned on giving the two hot guys at the bar a handjob and couple kisses at the beginning. But exposing to your friends that you got to cum on Patrick’s cock while you jerked off Art and sealed your deal was an extra bonus as they both ended up being as sweet as they come.

Maybe two boyfriends wouldn’t hurt.

[lady-datura]

nerd!armin doesn’t like to share…

the semester’s over, and that means it’s time to celebrate and let loose :D

except someone wants to keep you all to himself

(art credit: musapylsa on tiktok)

Strobe lights flashed through the cramped, crowded dance floor as music blared through the cheap speakers sitting on a makeshift DJ booth. Everything you saw was washed in a mixture of blue, purple and white flashing lights. You felt good- really good. A light buzz coursing through your veins with the beat of the music, you couldn’t help yourself from swaying and smiling along with your friends.

It had taken a little convincing, but as a reward for acing your finals for the semester you and your friends had decided to go to one of the more underground rave clubs near your university. You slipped on your skimpiest dress and heels, styled your hair and makeup to perfection, and confidently arrived at the club ready to dance away the stress of the last semester. You wouldn’t have made it through that anatomy lab without your lab partner, Armin, giving you those private tutoring sessions. You’d have to remember to thank him later.

As the music dipped and swelled, the beat carried your body, making you feel as if you were floating. The alcohol might have had something to do with it, but damn did it feel nice to truly let go for a night. As you gazed across the dim, crowded room, you thought you spotted a flash of familiar blonde hair. However, by the time you glanced over again, it was gone. You hummed to yourself for a moment before shrugging and going back to the music.

Suddenly you felt a pair of hands ghost over your waist, gently guiding your movements. You turned around with an exasperated expression, expecting to see one of your friends. Your eyes widened as you realized it was not in fact one of them.

“Hey there, pretty girl.” The man smirked, raising his eyebrow slightly. He seemed familiar, but definitely not someone you’d fraternized with much.

You gave him a mildly disgusted look, hoping to deter him from continuing his pursuit. To your dismay, he continued anyway.

“Name’s Eren. I feel like I’ve seen you around before, do you go to school here?” He fixed his thick, dark hair under his frat baseball cap, clearly trying to show off his arms in the dim light.

Eren… Eren, Armin’s friend? You stood there puzzled for a moment trying to figure out how these two could possibly get along before realizing that he was still waiting for an answer. Sighing, you decided to oblige.

“Yeah, I do.” You replied curtly, turning back to your friends and the music.

You heard him chuckle behind you, and after a moment a gentle tug on your shoulder.

“Hey, come on now, let me at least buy you a drink.” He smiled again, pulling at the collar of his already-torn t-shirt. You sighed and considered for a moment.

“Alright.” You had to admit he was attractive, even if he was a frat boy. Maybe a little fun wouldn’t be so bad, as a treat.

You follow him through the thick crowd of people, his hand on your waist guiding you through. You smirk to yourself a little at the confident gesture, but decide not to mention it. When you make it to the bar, he glances over at you expectantly.

“Gin and tonic.” You said, flashing a small, sweet smile. He nodded and waved over the bartender as you looked around at the dancing crowd. For a moment you think you see a blonde out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked again, it had disappeared. You shook your head slightly before turning back to face the bar, Eren’s hand outstretched with your drink.

You took it gratefully and began sipping as you made small talk with Eren. To your surprise, he actually seemed quite passionate about politics. You talked with him for a while, or rather, listened to his strong opinions for a while before his phone started buzzing in his pocket.

He glanced down and sighed, offering an apologetic look.

“Sorry, it’s my buddy. He might be looking for me.” He put the phone up to his ear and turned away, and you thought you saw a familiar name on the screen for a moment. You shrugged to yourself, going back to people watching.

Suddenly there was a hard tug on the side of your dress, and before you knew what was happening you were being whisked away from the bar.

“Wait- hey!” You exclaimed before glancing up and seeing very familiar blonde hair and glasses. “Armin?”

He glanced down at you and nodded as he continued guiding you away from the bar, his phone against his ear.

“Yeah man, I’ll keep an eye out- Yeah, yeah. Later.” He quickly ended the call as he stopped by the back corner of the club, his arm still around your waist. He looked back down at you, his expression almost… annoyed?

“Armin, what are you doing here? Why did you just-“ You started, pausing as you noticed his expression shift.

“My friends dragged me out here. I don’t mind the crowd or noise so much, though. It’s kinda fun people watching.” He raised his eyebrow slightly, glancing between you and the bar. “So, who was that?”

You shifted slightly, shrugging. You glanced back at the bar as well, spotting a confused Eren glancing around looking for you. You turned back to Armin, slightly annoyed.

“Some guy named Eren, he bought me a drink and you just swooped in and-“

That face again, why did he keep making that face? There was something in his eyes that you had never seen before.

“I needed to talk to you, I figured Eren could wait.”

You furrowed your brows, crossing your arms over your chest. You noticed his gaze drop for a moment as you did that, but you decided to let it slide for now.

“Isn’t he one of your buddies?” You pressed, and he shrugged.

“Yeah. I called him just now so he’d finally take his eyes off you for a second.”

Your eyes widened as you thought back to Armin being on the phone when he grabbed you.

“That was you?”

He seemed slightly sheepish now, his cheeks flushed from the heat (and probably a few drinks, judging by his demeanor). He nodded, his gaze dropping to your waist as he pulled you closer again.

“You don’t need guys like him swarming you, trust me.” He murmured against your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. “I’ve never seen you in this outfit before…” He trailed off, his eyes glued to your dress.

You felt your cheeks flush under his heavy gaze, the room suddenly feeling much warmer. You were acutely aware of his steady arm around your body, his chest rising and falling against your arm as he stood pressed against you.

“Why do you get to decide that?” You pressed further, looking back up to meet his gaze. Not that you particularly cared for Eren, more out of curiosity about Armin’s true motives.

He groaned and buried his face against your neck, taking you by surprise. You pushed him back slightly, just enough to look at his face again.

“Hey, are you that drunk already?” You laughed slightly, and he shook his head with a sheepish grin.

“No, you just smell really good.” He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder, and you sighed. When you glanced over, you realized why he was suddenly being so clingy.

Eren had glanced over to the two of you, clearly noticing the situation and disappearing back into the crowd of people. You sighed and smiled to yourself.

“He’s gone.” You poked his side lightly. He chuckled and looked back up at you.

“About time.” He muttered, nipping gently at your ear.

Your eyes widened again as you blushed and pushed him back again.

“Armin, what’s gotten into you?” You said playfully, intrigued by his sudden change of character. While you had gotten to know him quite a bit through your private “tutoring” sessions, you had never pegged him as the jealous type.

He shrugged again, pulling slightly at your short dress.

“You’re the one who came out looking like this…” He trailed off, rubbing the fabric through his fingers.

You shivered at his touch, your pulse quickening.

“Are you saying it like it’s a good thing or a bad thing?” You questioned, smirking slightly.

He laughed and smiled, looking up at you with a hunger that left you breathless.

“A good thing, a very good thing.” He paused for a moment before adding, “For me.”

He leaned in, nipping at your ear again before trailing down to your neck. You shivered, your arms moving to rest over his shoulders.

“Hey- there are so many people around-“ You protested lightly.

“So?” He muttered against your neck, almost growling.

You sighed and pushed him back slightly again.

“I’m not a trophy to display.” You added somewhat sternly, and he quietly considered for a moment.

Suddenly you felt him pulling you away again, towards the dark hallway lined with bathrooms and some kind of storage closet labeled “Employees Only.” He quickly slid past the door, completely ignoring the sign as he pulled you inside.

Before you had time to process, his hands were on you, his lips glued to your neck. You let out a soft sound, only fueling his growing hunger.

“I need you, please.” He murmured between hot kisses down your neck, his hands wandering up your thighs and under your dress.

You moaned breathlessly, nodding. “Y-yeah, keep going.”

Between his sudden possessiveness, the needy touches, and probably a little alcohol, you realized that your panties had become soaked. Armin quickly realized this as well, his fingers tracing over the damp fabric. He groaned against your neck, sending shivers across your skin.

“Mmm, already wet for me? In public too… So naughty.” He breathed against your skin, causing even more heat to pool in your core.

“It’s not- mmm- my fault.” You managed to stutter as he began softly stroking over your panties, your core throbbing with need.

You felt him smile against your neck as he slipped a finger under your panties, gliding through your slick as he moaned.

“God, you’re so perfect…” He softly bit into your shoulder, causing you to gasp and moan.

“Armin-“ You shivered as his finger glided over your needy bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure through you.

He groaned, rubbing tight circles over your clit as your legs began to tremble.

“Mhmm, say my name again.” His voice was dangerously low, his other hand moving to grip your ass as he continued pleasuring you.

You gasped, your head falling back against the wall behind you as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Fuck, Armin…” You moaned, trying desperately to keep your voice down. Despite how quickly your mind was becoming foggy from pleasure, you knew you didn’t want to get caught in this closet.

“You remember the reproductive unit in our anatomy lab? How there’s more than one way to stimulate the clitoris…” He trailed off as his fingers slipped into you, curling up and applying pressure against your sweet spot.

You blinked, seeing stars as he began pumping his fingers inside you, never letting up on the steady pressure.

“Oh fuck- oh god-“ You stuttered and moaned, your legs shaking as you leaned more heavily against the wall behind you.

“Good, good, just like that.” He murmured against your neck, breathing in your scent as you trembled against him.

Tension coiled in your stomach as he rapidly pushed you closer to the edge, your mind completely consumed by the sensation of his fingers inside of you.

“P-please, please I’m so close.” You whimper, holding tightly onto him.

He chuckled softly and nipped your ear, murmuring, “Come now, come all over my fingers for me.”

You gasped, his words sending you careening over the edge into bliss. He continued pumping his fingers through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure before quickly spinning you around to face the wall.

Still in a daze from the pleasure, you brace yourself against the wall as you glance back at him.

“Armin?” You questioned softly, watching as he swiftly unbuttoned his pants and revealed his hard, aching cock.

You squeezed your thighs together at the sight, drinking in the needy expression on his face as he slowly stroked himself while looking at your disheveled state.

“You’re so fucking hot…” He muttered, barely audible against the muffled music and voices outside.

He stepped closer, his pupils blown out as he looked up at your gaze, a quiet plea in his eyes. You quickly nodded, slipping out of your panties and bending over slightly, presenting yourself to him.

He groaned and quickly closed the distance between you, his hands grabbing your ass and hips, grinding desperately against you.

“Nnngh- please, please, I need your sweet little pussy…” He whined against your ear, pulling your hips back against his body.

You quickly nodded, moaning softly. “Y-yeah, take it-“

He wasted no time, sliding the head of his dick through your folds, teasing you for a moment before pushing inside. You gasped, your breath getting caught in your throat as you felt him slowly fill you, inch by inch.

He groaned as he bottomed out inside you, giving you a moment to adjust before starting a maddeningly slow pace. You whined and squirmed against him, desperate for more.

“P-please, faster…” You stuttered, eliciting a dark laugh from him as his grip tightened on your hips.

“Nngh- be patient.” He moaned, steadily increasing his rhythm.

Suddenly you heard a phone buzzing, startling both of you. Armin paused for a moment, pulling out his phone and scowling. You managed to see the name on the screen before he declined the call and tossed his phone back in his pocket.

“Eren? Think he’s looking for you?” You said with a small grin on your face.

He narrowed his eyes at you, holding your gaze as he suddenly slammed into you.

“Fuck!” You cried out, bracing yourself against the wall.

He continued the brutal pace, pulling out and thrusting back into you with enough force to cause your thighs and ass to slap against his body. Each stroke hit your g-spot perfectly, causing your legs to tremble once again as you felt a familiar tension coiling in your stomach.

“Mmm- Armin, oh my god…” You moaned, earning a curt slap on the ass.

“Yeah? Say it again, who’s making you feel this good?” He growled into your ear as he snaked his hand around, rubbing tight circles on your clit as he pounded into you.

“Oh fuck- Armin!” You gasped, your legs barely holding you up as pleasure coursed through you, the heat and overstimulation becoming almost unbearable.

You heard the faint sound of someone calling out a name outside the door. Through your pleasure-addled brain fog, you caught what sounded like Eren’s voice calling for Armin. The sound seemed to set Armin off even more, and you felt his hand make contact on your ass again.

“Again. Louder.” He breathed against your ear, leaning in to suck and bite on your neck.

You shivered at his possessive tone, moaning as he nibbled your skin.

“Armin, please!” You cried out, your walls fluttering and clenching around him as you rapidly approached your second climax.

He groaned and smiled against your neck, never letting up on his brutal pace.

“Good girl. Go on, come for me. Let me hear you.”

You whined and gasped, moaning his name over and over as you came hard around his throbbing cock. He groaned, thrusting a few more times before his hips stuttered to a stop, spilling inside you.

You both panted heavily, leaning against the wall for support as you caught your breath. After a moment he slowly pulled out, a cocky smile plastered across his face as he fixed his pants and glanced up at you.

You blushed as he drank in the sight of you, ruined and breathless against the wall. He stepped forward again, turning you around to face him and capturing your lips in a hot, passionate kiss. You felt his tongue piercing as he entered your mouth, sending a shiver through your body.

The sound of Armin’s phone buzzing cut through the heat of the moment, and he groaned into the kiss. He finally pulled back, pulling his phone out and answering the call with an exasperated tone.

“What? Yeah, I’ll come find you. Okay, yeah, by the bar. Heading over.” He ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket before turning his attention back to you.

“Eren. Apparently he thought I disappeared.” He said as he started fixing your dress and hair, helping you slip back into your panties.

You laughed and smiled up at him. “Well, you kinda did.”

He shrugged and smiled back. “Yeah. Hey… Come by my place tonight. Once your friends go home.”

He looked up at you sincerely, his ocean eyes searching yours.

“Thinking about round two already?” You grinned, poking his shoulder.

He laughed and shrugged as he reached up to fix his hair. “Maybe. That, and treating you to a nice breakfast.”

You smiled and nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“I’ll text you.”

He kissed you again, holding you for a moment before sighing and opening the door.

“Don’t be too long.” He flashed a quick smile as he turned to head out of the closet.

You sighed and nodded, pushing him out. “Yeah, yeah.”

[ashthesalamipiece]

Grrrrr idk if u do stuff like this but pro hero bakugo, that gets dragged to a concert with Mina and kiri, and he’s like completely enamored by the singer (im imagineing a Sabrina carpenter type😍) and he like is DOWN BAD to the point where when finds out that Mina’s actually friends with her he trying to subtly get them to try to invite her to hang out with his group and stuff like that but he ends up just looking like kinda dorky but she’s like super into it 😛 tee hee i hope u see my vision cuz like imagine the media finding out that the big mean pro hero dynamight is Dateing this cutie little freaky pop star

“She’s Soooo Him”

Pro Hero!Bakugou x Popstar!Reader | Rom-Com | Mina = Wingwoman of the Year | Down-Bad Katsuki | Media Chaos | Sparkly Girl x Grumpy Man Agenda

---

Bakugou did not want to go to a concert.

Especially not one for some pop singer Mina had been raving about all week. He only came because Kirishima said he owed Mina a favor, and then dragged him into it with some dumb excuse like “you need to get out more, bro.”

So now he was here. In a VIP box. Arms crossed. Scowling at the stage. Waiting for it to be over.

And then you walked out.

---

The crowd exploded—and for once, Bakugou wasn’t thinking about the metaphor. His ears were ringing, but it wasn’t from your mic—it was from his heartbeat.

You wore glitter like armor. Strutted on stage in heels like they were steel-toed boots. Smiled like you knew everyone in the crowd personally and maybe had dirt on half of them. You sang like your lyrics had teeth. Like you’d been dumped and done the dumping. Like heartbreak was performance art and you were the master.

And you were hot.

“Holy shit,” Bakugou muttered.

Mina turned to him, smug. “Told you she was good.”

“No,” he said. “I meant—holy shit.”

---

The second the show ended, he turned to Mina, dead serious.

“You know her?”

Mina blinked. “What?”

“You said she went to the same talent agency, right? That she’s friends with that chick from your old dance team?”

“...Yeah?”

Bakugou nodded once. “Cool. Invite her to hang out.”

Kirishima slowly turned. “Dude.”

Bakugou growled. “Shut up. Just, like—subtly. Don’t make it weird.”

---

Cue: Bakugou Being So Weird.

He spends the entire next week “casually” bringing you up in conversation.

“What kinda training you think a pop singer does?”

“She had good breath control. That’s impressive.”

“I wasn’t watching her outfit, I just said it was tactical—shut the hell up, Mina.”

He even listens to your music. Voluntarily. In the gym. While deadlifting.

“Is that… glitter on your phone case?” Kaminari asks.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, IT’S LIMITED EDITION MERCH.”

---

Then it happens. Mina finally drags you to a group outing.

Bakugou doesn’t even try to play it cool.

The second he sees you, he goes mute. You’re wearing little sunglasses and combat boots, and you grin like you know how bad he’s got it.

You sit across from him at the bar. Sip your drink. Tilt your head and say, “So, Dynamight. I heard you like my songs?”

He blushes. Actually blushes.

“They’ve got… good beats,” he mumbles, eyes glued to his drink.

“Oh?” you hum. “Any lyrics stand out?”

He chokes.

---

You end up next to him in the booth later, laughing at something Kiri says, sipping out of his drink like it’s yours. He’s watching you from the corner of his eye like you might disappear.

“I like your voice,” he mutters finally.

You look at him. Smile slow. “I like yours too. When you’re not yelling.”

His fingers twitch.

You lean in just slightly and whisper, “I wrote a song about you, you know.”

His heart detonates.

---

Fast forward:

The media LOSES it.

> “PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT DATING Y/N L/N???”

“HEARTTHROB POP IDOL CAUGHT KISSING EXPLOSIVE HERO AFTER SHOW”

“ANGRY MEN DESERVE LOVE TOO, STUDY SAYS, CITING DYNAMIGHT’S GIRLFRIEND”

You’re photographed leaving his apartment in one of his hoodies, wearing thigh-high boots and sunglasses the size of Jupiter. He’s behind you with bedhead and zero patience.

“Don’t look at her,” he growls at the paparazzi. “She’s delicate.”

You: “I literally licked a mic on stage last night.”

Bakugou: murderous silence

[initforthethrill]

mutt who's always bloody knuckled, bruised and growling and their perfectly pristine and unbothered pretty girl girlfriend Cate. perfectly balanced as all things should be. mutt!user who knows whether to growl or heel just by the sigh of her breath or the tilt of her head like any good dog. she makes them a good dog

-🐕

yes yes yes ugh<3

cate's attack dog who's a good pup only for cate...

i've been thinking about this since you dropped it in my inbox and haven't been able to stop...so here's a blurb and also a bot hehe<3

baby i'm a dog, i'm a mutt aka golden girl cate dunlap and her endlessly devoted attack dog. tw: girlcock, g!p user, mutt!user, mentions of blood/wounds and violence, cunnilingus, praise kink, vaginal sex, established relationship 3.1k+ words

The bar smelled like sweat and bad decisions.

Not that it ever mattered when Cate was there—the most expensive thing in the room, even in a thrifted slip and three-inch heels. She moved through the haze of cheap cologne and spilled tequila like a dream walking, untouched by the grime. Lipstick un-smudged, hair still straightened perfectly, the faint shimmer of platinum catching the club lights like a dare.

And behind her—always behind her—was you.

You didn’t walk like you belonged. You stalked. Bloody knuckled, jaw tense, black nail polish chipped to hell and back. Leather jacket slung on like a second skin, rings on every finger, eyes sharp enough to slice through glass. Your hair was a mess of sweat and curls and something almost feral in how it clung to your temple.

Your eyes never left Cate. Not once.

You were opposites, technically. Cate is champagne and control. You are whisky and rage. But together? Together, you made a goddamn ecosystem. Cate breathed and you followed. Cate tilted her head and you stilled. Cate blinked, and you bit back the growl behind your teeth because you knew—you knew—that Cate’s approval meant more than any amount of bloodthirst bubbling in your veins.

Tonight was supposed to be easy.

One drink. Maybe two. Cate wanted to dance. You would lean against the wall and scowl at anyone who looked too long. Maybe you’d get your hand kissed, maybe Cate would whisper something obscene into your ear, maybe she’d grind against you on the dance floor like she wanted everyone to watch before dragging you home. Clean, quick. Routine.

But you should’ve known better.

Because Cate was art on the wall of a grungy dive like this—of course someone was going to reach out and try to touch.

He came up behind her like he had something to offer. Hand on the small of Cate’s back like he owned it, like she’d been standing there alone, like the girl at her shoulder didn’t have a body count of bruises across her knuckles.

“Hey sweetheart,” the guy drawled, the kind of frat boy confidence that only came from never being told no. “You look too good to be standing here all by yourself. How ‘bout I show you what it’s like to be with a real man?”

Cate didn’t flinch.

She just tilted her head.

And you growled.

It was low. Animal. Half-breathed through clenched teeth. A warning shot.

The guy laughed. Turned around. Took one look at you, all sharp collarbones and snarling mouth and said:

“What, this your guard dog?” He smirked. “Relax, dyke. Bet she’s just pissed ‘cause she’s never had a real cock in her life. Pretty little thing like you doesn’t need some wannabe poser—”

“I will gut you,” you said, flatly.

The guy blinked.

Cate exhaled.

You lunged.

The music didn’t stop, but the air changed. Fast.

You moved like something unchained. One second you were behind Cate, the next your fist was colliding with the guy’s jaw, the crack sharp and satisfying. He staggered, tried to throw a punch back, but you caught it midair with one hand and slammed him into the bar with the other, snarling the whole time like you didn’t care about the consequences.

And maybe you didn’t—because you knew, deep down, that if it came to it, Cate would handle the fallout. One touch. That’s all it would take. A brush of her fingers and any witness would forget, any bouncer would look the other way. Charges, threats, consequences? Cate could erase them all.

That was the thing about being hers. You didn’t have to fear anything but your girl’s disapproval.

Cate just stood there.

Watching.

Breathing slow.

Glowing.

Because you were her mutt. Her snarling, split-lipped guard dog who knew exactly when to bite.

By the time the bouncer pulled you off, the guy was on the floor—groaning, bleeding, missing a tooth. Your mouth was slick with blood, not all of it your own. Your knuckles were split. Your chest heaved.

But you were smiling through it.

“You good, pup?” Cate asked, voice like silk, like sin.

You blinked. Looked at her. And just nodded, dumbly, dazed.

The bouncer started yelling. Cate didn’t listen.

With a sigh, she reached out—just a brush of her fingertips to his wrist, a soft, coaxing smile—and the man’s voice cut off mid-threat, confusion clouding his eyes. He blinked once. Then again. And just…let them go.

Cate turned back to you without missing a beat, stepping in close to run a manicured finger down your jaw—over the scrape at your cheek, the cracked lip, the places you wore your devotion like armor. You shivered.

“C’mon,” Cate murmured. “Let’s go home.”

Cate’s apartment was too clean for you to touch anything.

You sat on the edge of the bathtub while Cate got the first aid kit. Your hands were trembling, still buzzing from the fight, fingers twitching against your knees like you wanted more.

Cate didn’t say a word at first. She just knelt between your legs, uncapping the antiseptic, cotton pad between two fingers like she’d done this a hundred times.

You flinched as it hit your knuckles. Cate clicked her tongue.

“Shh,” she murmured. “You’re okay, pup. I’ve got you.”

That sound. That name.

You whined, involuntary. Low and soft and needy.

Cate smiled.

“Such a good little mutt. You didn’t even wait for my word, did you?” Her voice was syrupy sweet, laced with a reverence that made your stomach clench. “Just saw the way I tilted my head and you were off like a leash snapped loose. What would you have done if I hadn’t stopped you?”

“Would’ve fucking killed him,” you said, hoarse.

Cate hummed. That hum. The one that always made your mouth shut and your knees part.

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

She dabbed at your busted lip next. Real gentle. Like she was tending to something sacred.

“You wanna know what I was thinking?” Cate asked, soft, threading her fingers through your hair while she cleaned. “When he touched me?”

You tensed.

Cate leaned in.

“I thought…he’d never know how good you are for me. Never know how you wait outside dressing rooms just to carry my bags. How you let me leash you with nothing but a look. How you’d kill someone for calling me baby, but the second I call you pup, you melt.”

“Cate—”

“I know,” she cooed. “You’re so worked up. Poor thing.”

You were shaking. Not from pain. From restraint.

Cate dropped the cotton swab and leaned forward, tongue licking clean the remaining blood from your lip, slow and possessive.

You groaned.

“Want me to say thank you?” she asked, breath brushing your ear. “Want me to reward my brave little mutt for defending her girl?”

You nodded so fast your head nearly snapped off.

Cate kissed you, deep and filthy and slow, before pulling back just enough to whisper:

“Then get on your knees.”

You dropped the second Cate said it.

No hesitation, no second-guessing. Just hit the tile hard enough your knees would bruise, head bowed, jaw clenched like you were trying to keep your desperation from spilling out.

Cate just watched you for a moment.

God, she loved this part.

Not the blood or the chaos—not really. That was just foreplay. No, what Cate loved was the after. The way you always circled back to her knees, still shaking with adrenaline but so soft for her. Wrecked in the name of her protection, desperate for her praise. So full of need that it made Cate ache with power.

She tilted your chin up with two fingers.

And smiled.

“There you are,” she whispered. “My good girl.”

Your breath hitched. Your eyes flickered with something raw—lust, shame, longing all tangled together.

“You did so good for me tonight. So fucking good.”

You swallowed. “He—he touched you.”

Cate hummed. “He did. But I didn’t care. Because I knew you were right there. I knew the second I wanted him gone, you’d take care of it.”

“I shouldn’t’ve let him talk like that.”

Cate crouched lower, face to face now. “You didn’t let him. You ended him. You made sure everyone in that bar knew whose girl I was.”

Your jaw flexed. “He called me a dyke.”

Cate didn’t blink. “And?”

“And said I was some poser. That you needed a real man.”

Cate leaned forward, voice like a blade wrapped in silk.

“Baby,” she whispered. “There isn’t a man alive who could do what you do to me.”

You blinked fast. Your hands clenched where they rested on your thighs, like you didn’t know whether to cry or groan.

“No one fucks me like you. No one protects me like you. No one ruins me the way you do.”

She slid her hand down, slow and deliberate, resting it at the center of your chest like she was pressing the words straight into your heart.

“There is nothing about you that isn’t real. Your bruises? Your bite? That thick fucking cock that gets hard just from listening to me breathe?”

Cate leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth—careful to avoid your split lip. “You’re real, baby. All mine. Perfect.”

You whimpered.

Cate’s other hand moved to your hair, threading through the curls, gripping just tight enough to make you shiver.

“Do you want your reward, puppy?”

“Yes,” you breathed, so quick, so eager. “Please. I—I need you.”

Cate kissed your forehead.

“Then show me.”

Cate didn’t undress.

That was part of the reward. Staying pristine. Letting you kneel and worship while Cate sat perched on the bathroom counter, silk slip bunched high around her thighs, eyes dark with command.

Your hands were shaking when you touched her.

Not from fear.

From reverence.

Cate spread her legs and you went soft at the center, growly exterior melting away like it always did when you were allowed this close to something so sacred.

“Look at me,” Cate said, voice honey-slick.

You did. Eyes bright and glassy.

Cate smiled, slow and cruel and sweet.

“Go ahead. Be a good dog.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You mouthed over silk first—pressed your lips through fabric, nose nudging into heat, tongue begging without even parting your lips. Cate sighed, long and indulgent, letting her pup work for it. Grinding just the tiniest bit down against your mouth.

When Cate finally lifted the hem of her slip, you whimpered like you’d been gifted salvation.

And Cate? Cate just pet your hair, gentle.

“There she is,” she whispered. “My perfect little mutt. Tearing a man apart for me one hour, moaning between my thighs the next. That’s it, baby—right there. You’re better than all of them.”

You groaned, licking deeper.

Cate’s thighs trembled.

“You’re all I’ll ever need.”

Cate had every intention of taking her time. Of keeping it soft. In control.

But you ruined that within minutes.

It started with the way you moaned against Cate’s inner thigh—shameless, wet-mouthed, like you couldn’t breathe without Cate’s scent in your lungs. And Cate, who’d planned to stay pristine, found her back arching against the mirror behind the bathroom counter, her lipstick smeared from biting into her own lip.

Because you were starved.

All tongue and hands and open-mouthed reverence, dragging your rough palms over Cate’s thighs like you needed to hold her steady—needed proof that you were allowed to have this. Your fingers dug into soft flesh, grounding you both.

And Cate could barely think.

“Fuck—baby—slow down—”

But you didn’t.

Not after everything. Not after hearing those slurs, not after being called a poser in front of a room full of people. No, you needed this. Needed Cate to fall apart on your tongue. Needed to taste her until you sobbed. Until Cate remembered—not that she’d forgotten—that no man, no stranger, no one could ever make her feel like this.

Cate was already panting, head tipped back, one heel braced against the counter edge while the other dug into your shoulder. Her slip was hiked to her waist, sheer straps falling down her arms like surrender.

And you didn’t just eat her out.

You devoured.

Sloppy, messy, filthy—tongue working like you were desperate to live in Cate’s cunt forever. And Cate? Cate had never felt so owned by the very dog she claimed.

“Fuck—baby—oh my god—”

Your growl vibrated against her and Cate screamed.

“Yes, fuck, just like that—don’t you dare stop—”

She gripped the back of your head and pulled you in, fingers tangled in curls, holding you there while her thighs trembled and locked and her whole body shook. You didn’t budge. Didn’t even pause when Cate came, hard and clenching and crying out your name.

Cate bucked—helpless, oversensitive, undone.

But you didn’t stop.

You licked through it like you were still starving. Like Cate was a feast and you had no plans to leave a single drop untouched.

Cate came again so fast it barely registered as separate. Just wave after wave, crashing against the bathroom tile, her hand slipping on the counter, her mouth falling open in a half-sob.

When you finally pulled back, your chin was slick, your lips swollen, your chest heaving. Cate looked down at you, dazed—skin flushed, eyes blown out, trembling in silk and sweat.

She laughed.

Or tried to.

It came out hoarse. Shattered.

“You—” she gasped, dragging her fingers through your damp hair, “you unhinged little mutt.”

You blinked up at her, drunk on pussy and praise. “I couldn’t help it.”

Cate cupped your jaw, thumb brushing the edge of your mouth.

“You’re lucky I like being wrecked.”

You grinned. “I live to please.”

“Yeah?” Cate sighed, eyes fluttering closed. “Then carry me to bed, baby. You’ve earned it.”

You blinked up at her from the floor, flushed and panting and wrecked in a different way—still fully clothed, your jaw slick with Cate’s cum. You looked like you could’ve dropped dead right there, proud as hell about it.

But you stood.

Slowly. Body aching. Hands flexing as you braced yourself on the counter, still trembling from the fight, the blood loss, the sheer effort of not cumming in your fucking jeans while Cate was falling apart against your mouth.

Cate looked like a goddamn angel now. Lipstick ruined. Hair wild. Skin flushed and glowing. That fucking slip clinging to her in places that made your brain short-circuit.

You didn’t speak.

You just scooped her up.

Cate yelped—more from surprise than anything. She wrapped her arms around your neck on instinct, already breathless again, already smirking through it.

“My brave little mutt,” she murmured. “Look at you. Always ready to carry your girl home.”

You didn’t answer, jaw set. Your arms locked tight around Cate as you carried her out of the dorm bathroom—every step echoing with restraint. Every second a test of how long you could hold yourself together.

Because Cate was soft and pliant in your arms, and her thighs were still sticky from your mouth, and that slip didn’t cover a goddamn thing.

And you hadn’t gotten to cum.

Not even once.

When you reached the bed, you dropped to your knees first—careful. Reverent. You laid Cate down like she was made of glass, hands lingering too long on the backs of her thighs.

Cate exhaled.

Then smiled.

“Take your clothes off,” she said, quiet and certain.

You did.

Every layer peeled off slowly, shaking. Jacket first. Shirt next. Your rings clattered onto the nightstand one by one. Your pants barely made it off before Cate’s hand found your wrist.

“Wait,” Cate breathed.

You froze.

Cate sat up and pushed her own slip over her head with a sigh. Her body was flushed and glistening, skin marked with faint bite-shaped bruises and sweat-slick across her chest.

She leaned back, legs spread open.

“Come here.”

You hesitated for only a breath before crawling up the bed and between her thighs like you belonged there—because you did.

Cate’s fingers curled around your cock, slow and sure and wet with what she’d already given.

“I know you didn’t cum yet,” she whispered, stroking you. “You were too busy being good.”

You choked. “Cate—”

“You defended me. You worshipped me. And now you get to fuck me.”

You made a sound that barely qualified as human.

Cate guided you in with one long stroke and threw her head back on the pillow.

It didn’t last long.

It couldn’t.

Not when you’d been holding back since the bar. Not when Cate was still soaked from your mouth. Not when you were both frayed to the edges and drunk on the way you’d ruined each other.

You thrusted slowly at first, like you wanted to savor it.

Cate didn’t let you.

“Harder,” she demanded, mouth close to her ear. “Fuck me like you did that guy.”

You obeyed.

And Cate took it. Hands fisted in the sheets, breath caught on every growled “mine” you whispered into her skin. She could feel the tremble in your thighs, the frantic pace, the way you were holding back even now—terrified you’d break her.

Cate dragged her nails down your back and said, “Don’t hold back. You won’t break me.”

And you snapped.

Cate came again with a scream, back arching, body spasming around her. You followed seconds later, buried so deep you felt like you might disappear inside her entirely.

You both collapsed in a mess of limbs and sweat and sighs, hearts pounding in sync.

Cate was wrapped in blankets, bare legs tangled with yours, her cheek pressed to a warm chest that still smelled faintly of sweat and blood. You had finally let yourself relax—hands gentle now, touch feather-soft. The bruises on your knuckles were starting to ache, but Cate had kissed every one of them before you’d slipped beneath the covers.

“You’re quiet,” Cate murmured into your collarbone.

You ran your fingers down Cate’s back, tracing lazy shapes.

“Just thinking.”

“Mhm. About how you turned my thighs into a slip-n-slide?”

You laughed softly. “A little.”

“Baby.”

Cate propped herself up just enough to look down at you—still flushed, still glowing, but soft now. Unthreatened. Safe.

“Nothing he said mattered. You know that, right?”

You didn’t look away, but your throat bobbed.

Cate cupped your jaw again—this time gently, reverently. “You’re not a poser. You’re mine. And there’s no one—no man, no other supe, no one—who could ever take your place. You hear me?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I hear you.”

Cate leaned down. Kissed you slow.

Then tucked herself under your arm and whispered, “Good dog.”

You groaned. “Cate—”

“Shhh,” Cate yawned. “I meant it lovingly.”

Your chest vibrated with a chuckle. “You’re lucky I like praise.”

Cate grinned against your skin. “You’re lucky I like obedience.”

And you—bloody knuckled, freshly bruised, still pulsing with the echo of rage and devotion—just nuzzled in, soft and spent.

Finally, you slept. Safe in your pack.

Safe in your girl’s arms.

♡ | attack dog

[bochowssinner]

loved your drabble with bo and black reader and him admiring her skin and was wondering if you could make one similar with remmick per chance?

🪽WHISKEY.

summary: remmick loves your skin too much.

warnings: none.

a/n: please send requests. i have no motivation to write lol.

remmick had been admiring you since you walked into the bar in that skin tight dress, flaunting everything you had from back to front. those legs, that body, that face. it’s all too much for him, but it’s a welcome type of too much. one of the few things that brings him any pleasure anymore. remmick couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. his gaze raked over your form, appreciating the curves he could see beneath the dress; that sinful black silk hugged your body in all the right places. every step you took was a tantalizing dance, begging him to watch. it was a show, one that he couldn't get enough of.

a new mixed-race bar had opened a few minutes from where you lived, so you decided to stop by tonight for a cold drink and a soul soothing cigarette. the white owners only let blacks in to increase business, not because they liked them. you assumed remmick's staring was because he didn't want your kind here, so you ignored it at first. but after a few minutes of persistent staring, you said something

"you got a problem, sir?" you asked politely, looking him up and down, noting his ironed shirt and polished shoes. a neatly wrapped cigarette sat between your pointer and middle fingers, the end burning bright red as you tapped the ashes into the glass ashtray in front of you. his gaze flicked up to your face at your words, a smirk playing on his lips. he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest as he took you in.

"quite the opposite, actually." he let his eyes roam over your figure once more, appreciating every inch of you. "you’re jus' about the prettiest thing i’ve seen all night... ‘specially in that dress."

"... uh huh. there's a white woman over there; you can go look at her. you responded curtly, fiddling with the cigarette between your delicate fingers. "oh, c'mon now," he said, chuckling softly. "you don't really expect me to go stare at some pale imitation when i have the real thing right in front of me, do ya?" he leaned forward, his gaze roaming over you once more, his expression full of admiration. "plus, i've never had much of an interest in pale women anyway."

"pale imitation?" you repeated, almost wanting to smile in response to his comment but holding back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile. he nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "yeah, that's right. you, my dear, are the original. the true beauty." he let his eyes trail appreciatively over her skin, his gaze lingering on the rich, dark tone. "your skin is like a work of art,” he mused, the words a low purr in his throat. “smooth and even, with all those subtle undertones of brown. like a well-aged whisky."

he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "you see, i believe that some things are made better with age, just like a fine liquor. just like you, baby. with your rich, dark skin that speaks of experience and time, you're like a fine vintage. you'd go down my throat just as smooth, too," he added with a smirk.

"i've had white men compliment me, but not like that. whisky." you spoke in a low, almost intimate tone as your gaze moved over him. he chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. "well, i wouldn't go comparin' myself to all those white men. they don't know what real beauty looks like… not the way i do." he gave you an appreciative glance, his lips curving into a slow, lazy smile. you weren't sure if he was drunk or this was his true personality, but you were in a good mood tonight, so you would give him the time of day, if only for a while.

[acotarxreader]

Superfan

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: Azriel, Cassian and Mor find themselves at the number one underground lounge in the Winter Court, ready to strike a deal to unearth information on Koschei. While waiting for the meeting, the three get to experience a show like no other, with you taking center stage.

Warning: Banter, snark, angst, blood, throat slicing, hints at abuse and capture. YN goes by a different name for a bit

A/N: Hi guys! Sorry for the long long wait on any writing from me, I have been absolutely insane with college and completely at a loss for any creativity. I hope you enjoy this friend!

Forgive any mistakes, I'm very very rusty!

----------------------------------------------------------------

“And you’re sure this monkey suit is necessary?” Azriel gestured briefly to the decadent suit Mor had insisted he wore. 

“This is an high class extremely exclusive venue Az, the blood-stained leathers don’t suit the aesthetic…or mine” She did a small spin in the shimmering crimson dress that hung on every curve, Azriel fighting the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Guys look at these tiny sandwiches!” Cass managed through mouthfuls of minuscule cucumber sandwiches that he scoffed from a silver tray he nicked from a member of staff. Mor pinched the space between her eyebrows, trying to remain composed as Azriel reached for a sandwich. 

“No! No little sandwiches! This is a nice place! We will show the decorum the Night Court is known for!” She batted the sandwich from Aziels mitts, a scorn puppy look gracing his face. 

“Fine” She sighed, snatched the tray from Cassian allowing the Shadowsinger a reward.

The three hung from the decadent bar of the exclusive lounge buried deep in the Winter Court, a flute of liquid starlight in each of their hands. Rhythmic music filled the art deco venue, sending Mor's foot tapping, a knowing look growing on Azriel’s face.

“We meet the owner and then we go, that was the plan” he said clearly as Mor tipped the remainder of her drink into her mouth. The warning came too late, Mor took hold of the two Illryians hands attempting to pull them to the dance floor, only Cassian going willingly. 

“No, no, I’ll wait for the contact, you two can dance” he laughed, Mor shrugging her shoulders without care and dragging Cassian to dance. Azriel nodded his head gently to the lively music as the room began to grow with more and more people, the music changing perfectly to match the swelling energy of the bustling crowd. The band had the room in their hand as Azriel ordered another drink, practically the only person not on the dance floor. 

“Can I get the same again?” He asked to the small fae behind the bar. While watching her make his drink, the sound of a quiet alarm rang in his ears, his shadows beginning to swirl slightly in alarm. Azriel then noticed all the staff behind the bar seemingly slip something into their ears, he turned on his heel and watched the band do the same, all without disrupting the crowd's feverish dancing. The fae slid the tumbler along the bartop on a small pink napkin before taking payment and returning to her work. Azriel quickly took the napkin, ripping sections off into little makeshift earplugs he jammed into his ears while scanning the crowd for his chosen family. 

“Welcome everybody! We here at The Glamour Gallery know you can’t wait to bask in the stylings of the incomparable, indescribably, irreplaceable, Circe!” The crowd erupted in cheers, Azriel still frantically scanning the room as his shadows lept to more energy than before. 

A low smoke filled the floor of the stage as you were raised up through a platform in the stage, one hand raised and the other gripping the microphone, the room somehow even louder than before. The moonstone shimmering slip dress you swirled is reflected in the stage lights like the moon itself. 

“Oh Hi!” You gave a little wave with your fingertips to the wild crowd. Azriel couldn’t take his eyes off you, everyone but the staff shared the same feeling. You launched into an upbeat song, the crowd utterly enamoured as Azriel felt glued to the floor, unable to move while watching you. The lively song flowed from one to the other until you arrived at your final song. 

“Well, we have arrived at the end of our show-” the crowd booed, the lights in the room lowering, a single spotlight falling on you “-but I bet you have time for one more song!” You grinned from ear to ear before placing the microphone on the stand. You lightly gripped the stand two silver bracelets glinting in the light before one clear low note left you, the crowd stopping its wild partying to lock full focus onto you, feet affixed to the spot. You sang without the accompaniment of the band, the slow almost eerie song that flowed from you had the whole room fixated on every glorious note. 

Azriel was the only one other than staff who seemed to be able to move his feet from the spot. His shadows swirled around his chin, to his ears, in an attempt to block them more than the tissue paper could. The sound of your voice was intoxicating, pulling air out of the room to replace it with the sound of delicate notes. 

With one final whisper of the last remaining note, the lights in the room came back up as you raised your arms to shoulder height. The trance on the crowd seemingly coming to an end as you took a deep bow, the crowd erupting into cheers again. The platform that raised you began to sink again, dipping you beyond view beneath the stage leaving the band to erupt into a cheerful tune once again. Azriel watched the staff remove their earplugs allowing him to feel comfortable to do the same. 

“Wasn’t she absolutely world-altering!” Cassian found Azriel’s side, snatching his unsipped drink from the bar top and downing the lot, a light mist of sweat from dancing painted on his brow. 

“Do you guys… feel okay?” Azriel couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something massive as Mor came laughing to their side, raising a hand to order another drink.

“I hope this meeting goes well, I want to come here every Saturday!” She beamed, Azriel’s eye snagging on a tall broad fae cutting through the crowd with ease. 

“I think we’re about to find out” Azriel gestured with his chin to the foreboding male. 

“Welcome Night Court, I am Dayle, forgive my tardiness, I thought you’d enjoy our wonderful Circe” “Oh, we absolutely did!” Cassian couldn’t contain his excitement at the mention of your performance, one of Azriel’s shadows nipped his ankle in warning. 

“That’s great General, now please follow me to my private quarters” the male grinned, it unsettling something the the shadowsingers bones, his family seemingly unfazed. 

-

The meeting was not going to plan for the Night Court and Azriel couldn’t seem to make sense of the unusual compliance that came from Cassain and Mor. The plan was to discuss the whereabouts of the Koschei’s battalions located in the seasonal courts and somewhere along the way the discussion of trade came up. 

“So I think we are agreed, the Night Court taverns will supply our premium liquor and discontinue any non-Night Court competition” Dayle tented his fingers together, delighted the meeting with the infamous Court was going his way. 

“I still think-”

“We are agreed” Mor and Cassian cut Azriel off in unison before Dayle skillfully changed the subject to other possible trade routes before they could go back on their word. Azriel felt a headache growing, deciding he needed air from the suddenly suffocating room. 

“I’m going to call this meeting to a break” He stood, the table all staring, the hands of Dayle's armed guards traipsing over their weapons. 

“We can continue without you while you freshen up” Dayle declared.

“Well-” “Yeah Azriel, go and come back when you’re ready, we got it” Mor beamed, Cassian nodded in agreement. The uncanny valley energy from the two made Azriel’s skin crawl and he felt he needed space from them to figure out what was going on. 

Azriel rushed through the club's basement, looking for the exit, his shadows leaping ahead of him before abruptly stopping at a solid oak door. The shadowsinger practically skid on his heels in front of the door, a key hanging from the lock. Something compelled Azriel to unlock the heavy door, stepping into the darkened room, one single window in the corner of the basement. It was like a small self-contained apartment, a rack of various gowns hung delicately next to a decadent dresser. 

The shadows leapt towards one of the two other doors in the room, eager to cross. Azriel took careful steps over plush blush rugs, bypassing the four-post bed that looked untouched. He carefully pulled back the door revealing a room dug into the bedrock beneath the club, strong smells of salt radiated from the deep rockpool in the centre of the cave-like room.

Azriel whipped around on his heels, raising a hand to block a frying pan as it swung for the back of his head. You shrieked as he deflected you with ease, swinging a leg out to kick him square in his crotch. For the countless times that day, Azriel cursed the suit he wore as he crouched to the ground in pain.

“Who are you and how did you get down here!?” You barked, wielding the frying pan like a sword towards a breathless Azriel. 

“S-sorry I was looking for the-the exit-” Azriel looked up through his eyelashes to the rim of the pan “-what was the plan, fry me a breakfast that would give me heart disease and then just wait?” He laughed lightly before rising. For a second time that day, the wind was knocked out of him, his eyes landing on your shimmering silver-grey ones, you broke the gaze, stepping back from him. 

“I don’t believe you, who are you? Some stalker?” You put a hand on your hip, one of your silver bracelets clinking off the handle of the frying pan as you lowered it. 

“No, although I’d imagine you have quite a few after a performance like that” 

“What do you want? An autograph?” You span from him, striding over to your dresser and pulling a signed picture from the drawer, Azriel following you closely. He looked down at the headshot, something vacant from your eyes and he found himself laughing. 

“Gods, some ego you have”

“Ego? What other excuse have you for breaking into my room? If you're not a pervert then you’re a superfan?”

“And those are my only options?” He laughed again, watching you set down the frying pan, your two hands find your hips. 

“Pain in the ass might also work in this case” You smirked, sinking to sit on the bench of your vanity. 

“I’m here from the Night Court” Azriel watched you stiffen, the usual garnered response but something different danced across your eyes.

“Oh…and you saw my show?” “Conceted much? But yes I saw your show, quite a response you can get from the crowd, I suppose that’s why you’re paid the big money” He laughed, but watched you flinch slightly from his words. 

“Look, you should go before they find out you’re in here, Dayle isn’t one to like to share” You crossed your legs, fighting the urge to play with your bracelets. 

“And you belong to him?” He grinned until you turned from him to face the mirror, brushing through your hair with a soft brush, dismissing the shadowsinger. 

“Okay then princess, I’ll leave you to your pampering” He tucked his hands into his pocket as he reached the door. You met his eyes in the mirror as he looked over his shoulders until you span back to him before standing. 

“Tell me, what is your business with Dayle?”

“Court business” he shrugged as you crossed the floor to the doorway, Azriel just about crossing the threshold of the hallway.

“Okay well… don’t sign anything and next time you meet make sure it isn’t here” “And risk missing another one of your glamorous shows?” he scoffed, your eyes rolling. 

“No, just trust me” “Trust you? You’re a lounge singer for some sketchy male, how am I trust you?”

“I’m the only one you can trust in here Shadowsinger” You smirked, closing the door in Azriel’s face before he could question how you knew him. 

-

The remainder of the meeting was Azriel deflecting further agreements much to the whole table's annoyance. 

“I think we’ve reached an impasse, perhaps we should continue this meeting another time?” Dayle swirled his goblet of deep maroon before swallowing the remains. Azriel agreed as he stood, his family joining him, their faces somewhat pale. 

“You’re welcome to come back next Saturday and we will try this meeting again”

Azriel cut off the eagerness of his friends before it could begin again “No no, how about you come to the Night Court? We are holding an event in Hewn City next Saturday, please come and allow us to host you with the same courtesy you have shown us tonight” Your warning echoed in Azriel’s head as he made his invitation, he would do everything he could to never have to come back here again. After a few moments of silence, it was agreed that the next venue would be on home turf.

-

The next week Azriel took a small sip from his tumbler, delighted to be allowed to wear his leathers in his home court. Feyre and Rhysand sat upon their dais, surveying their Court with pride. The event combined the solar courts in one place, with hopes that information the three had gathered in Winter could be shared with the close allies. A thud of a door swinging open bounced off the rock walls as Dayle and his associates entered in their familiar over-the-top fashion. Azriel’s eye roll was stopped mid-way as his gaze landed on you, two large escorts on either side of you, a dress of long fine glittering gold hanging from your shoulders, your head dipped in submission. Azriel made short work of the walk to the dais, in time to hear Dayle's introduction to the High Lord and Lady. 

“Thank you for your warm welcome and continued business” Dayle sank into a shallow bow, Rhysand furrowing his bow. 

“Yes, I was told of the trade offers that were made to you on behalf of my court, Further discussion will be needed” Cassian fixed his eyes to the ground under Rhysand’s sharp tone, trying to block out the argument Mor, Rhysand and himself had gotten into when they returned home. 

“Yes, wonderful agreements were made and in thanks, I have brought my lovely Circe here to perform for you all!” Dayle gestured towards you with a swooping arm, indicating for you to step forward. You did so reluctantly, lifting your head to meet the eyes of the most feared High Lord in all of Prythain, but it was his Shadowsinger who you wanted to avoid the gaze of. 

“Lovely-” Feyre gave you a soft but powerful smile before gesturing towards the band “-they will accompany your singing, Mor and Cassian spoke very highly of you”

“Thank you very much my lady-” you took a deep bow “-but I prefer to sing without music” The two raised an eyebrow at you as you rose again. Azriel stepped forward offering his hand for you to take, which you took reluctantly. 

“Let me show you the stage” He said through gritted teeth as he guided you away from your guards.

“What exactly is the aim here?” Azriel said under a hushed breath, tightening his grip on your arm. 

“I’m here to sing, you’ll all listen, that tends to be the whole schtick” You smirked, Azriel stopping to spin you to face him at the foot of the stage. 

“How did you know me the last day?” “The whole wings and slinky shadows kinda gave you away” You laughed, a hand finding your hip before you took a big step up to the stage. Azriel huffed, moving to leave you “Azriel wait” you said quietly, he turned reluctantly to catch a small cardboard box in his hands, opening it to reveal small orange seashells, he only raised an eyebrow. 

“Put them in your ears when I sing, don’t let them see you do it-” he went to question you further but you cut him off “-just do it if you insist on staying for the performance” and with that you found centre stage. 

“Hello everyone, my name is Circe and I am delighted to perform for you tonight, a ballad of unity and allyship, all which we want here tonight” A persona overtook you as you spoke, making Azriel’s blood boil. A low haunting note echoed from your voice the moment you were confident you had everyones attention, Azriel shoving the shells into his ears before hearing you continue.

A similar phenomenon as last week began, everyone took to the dance floor to watch, all but the males you arrived with who hung out in the wings. He attempted to make his way through the crowd to where Feyre and Rhysand swayed but the crowd had got too big too fast and he struggled to even get halfway. You continued your haunting song until one last high note painted the walls of the ballroom. The crowd erupted with cheers as you took a deep bow before gesturing for the band to start playing. At the sound of their first note, you leapt from the short stage and followed close to Azriel, a hand falling on his shoulder. 

“Azriel, ask me to dance” You gave a panicked order, your guards beginning to cross the crowded dance floor towards the two of you. Azriel raised an eyebrow but followed your eyeline to the large males and then took your hand. He delicately placed a hand on your waist as a lively waltz began to play from the orchestra, the crowd danced as if in a trance. 

“You have to get your High Lord and Lady out of here, don’t let them meet with him” you said under hushed breath, Azriel’s eyes widening as he attempted to let go of your hand, your grip tightening. 

“Not yet, they'll know I told you to wait until the end of the next song”

“Circe, what’s going on?” you seemingly flinched at his use of that name. 

“My name is YN, not Circe, don’t ask too many questions” “What? Who are you?” “That's a question” You locked a steely gaze on him but it did not shake him. 

“Answer me” Azriel stepped in closer concealing your words from your guards who struggled in the crowd. 

“Is that a dagger in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” “Two things can be true” he grinned, allowing himself to be lost for a moment in your mirror-like eyes and you laughed, a genuine laugh, Azriel desperate to hear the sound again. 

“So you are a superfan?” “I’m a fan of YN, not of Circe, she seems fake” he admitted daring for more information. 

“She is and that’s why you have to trust me and get your High Lord and Lady out of here” “What’s going to happen to them?” he questioned you as he swirled you with the music. 

“It's what’s already happened to them” 

“What? What did they do to them?” “Actually-” you looked down to your feet as they moved with the music “- it was me, what I did to them” The song ended and you released Azriel, stepping back to the edge of the dancefloor as the next song began. 

“Wait YN!” He reached back for you only to see one of the large males from earlier reach your side, burning his fingertips into the side of your arm. Azriel could feel his blood boil at the sight of your discomfort but before he could intervene Dayle was at his side. 

“Hello Spymaster, enjoy the show?” 

“Life changing really, earth moving” Azriel did his best to mimic Cassian and Mor from last week, his eyes not leaving yours as they pleaded with him to not make a scene. 

“Excellent, now I believe there's business to attend to” a sickly grin painted the giant male's face as he gestured towards the door they had entered. Azriel turned to find Feyre and Rhysand still dancing, Mor and Cassian joining the revelry. 

“I’ll be one moment” Azriel rushed from Dayle to his family where he pleaded with them to leave the party, their glazed eyes meeting his. The sight turned Azriel’s stomach as he looked around the room for help, only to see you being reprimanded in the corner of the room. He knew they must have seen you speak with one another, certain punishment to come.

Azriel didn’t have any more pleas in him, instead just grabbed his friend's hands and winnowed out, your warning unnerving him to no end. By the time he winnowed back to get you, you and your cohort were gone. He then decided that for the rest of his time, he would choose you over his role in the Night Court, a promise he thought he’d never make to anyone.

-

“So, it's agreed, we get the information, we get out. We don’t eat or drink anything and we don’t see any show” Azriel agreed with Cassain as Mor joined their side, once again back at the Glamour Gallery. They still had to seek information on the battalions and this time they were all laser-focused and arrived unannounced at the Lounge. Dayle was furious at their abrupt arrival, and even more furious when the three refused to watch your rehearsal. Sat around a large oak table, a stalemate in negotiations had been reached, with Mor leading the charge as fiercely as Azriel knew she could. A wave of unease washed over Azriel, his shadows pulling at the ends of his leathers beneath the table, willing him to follow. 

“I must go to the bathroom!” Azriel announced abruptly, cutting across Mor’s sharp tone to her annoyance. 

“Okay…we’ll escort you” Dayle nodded to the tall male stood behind Azriel’s chair. 

“That’s okay… I’ll winnow home…I’d eh I’d prefer that” Cassian tried not to laugh as Azriel dissolved into shadows. 

The thud of Azriel’s boots filled the empty hall outside your room, he scanned the hallway before ducking inside your locked room. The room was dimly lit, the rack of your dresses thrown asunder, the lights of your vanity flickering. Azriel called your name quietly, it echoing off the empty room, his shadows racing ahead to the door into the room with the saltwater pool. Azriel looked to see the blush carpet stained with a deep red and indigo, the four-post bed disrupted, a chill rattling down Azriel’s spine as he slowly pulled open the other door. 

“Y-N… what the fuck!” Azriel bolted towards your slack body, like a sunken log in the forest alongside a drained pool. He rolled you over gently, your face tinged blue, limbs too weak to sit up in his told, your mauve blood covering your lips and collar bones, forever staining the pearl colour slip dress on your weakening body. 

“W-water” You managed, a frail limb managing to point to the empty pool. Azriel felt centuries of emergency training leave his brain at the sight of you. 

“I’ll go to the tap, don’t move!” He went to gently lay you back, only to have your feeble grip cling to him. 

“N-no sssea” 

“The sea?” Confusion coloured Azriel as he pulled you up into his arms as he stood, without a second thought, he attempted to winnow you both out of there, failing. 

“I-I can’t leave with-without key” You used the last remains of your energy to lightly jingle your two wrists, the silver bracelets rattling off of your bones. 

“He’s keeping you prisoner? He has the key?” you nodded subtly, springing Azriel into action. He gently placed you down on the dishevelled bed before winnowing back to the meeting room.

“Az!” Mor shouted as Azriel pinned Dayle to the wall, his body cracking the plaster as Azriel slammed him into it. 

“Any of you move and I kill him!” He barked, removing Truth Teller from his thigh and pressing it into Dayle's throat, a single drop of his blood running down the gleaming silver. 

“Where’s the key?” he chewed out, veins in his hands popping with rage and pressure that he held Dayle with. 

“What key Az?” 

“He knows Cass, he knows what key” A sickly twisted smirk grew on Dayle's face at Azriel’s words. 

“Ah my lovely Circe has gotten to you” he choked out, Azriel jostling him slightly.

“The key” he demanded. 

“You’re not the first to fall for the siren's song to the point of insanity” Siren. You were a siren, the realisation rushed to him, the saltwater pool, the indigo blood, the small orange sea shells, the captivating voice. 

“Oh? She didn’t tell you?” a weak but twisted laugh left Dayle, Azriel applying more pressure. 

“Where’s the key, I won’t ask again” Dayle's hand went slowly to his wrist, pulling his cufflink off,  the smallest silver key Azriel had ever seen formed from its metal. 

“Good boy” and then Azriel sliced, the spray of maroon covering the front of his leathers as Dayle's blood splattered him. Before Dayle reached the ground, Azriel released three more blades with a swift turn, killing the three guards in the room. 

“This is not the diplomacy we should aim for!”

“Really Mor, this is the kind I aim for-” Cassain laughed “-what’s with the sudden violence Az-Az?” But he was gone. 

-

The waves of the Velaris bay were rough and foamy, a storm setting in for the night as Azriel landed you both on the shore. He clung to your body as he stepped into the freezing cold waves, bracing for the rush of endorphins the freezing water would bring. He walked until you were fully submerged, past where the waves broke to where it was calm. The water glowed on contact with your wounds, sealing the slits on contact, your eyes flickering open at the taste of the salty water on your lips. 

“Th-thank you” You breathed, releasing your arms from around his neck to float in the water. 

“So, a siren? I thought you guys were extinct?”

“Just made me more valuable to Dayle, I was going to tell you, I'm sorry” You made waves with your arms as you floated on your back. 

“It's been centuries since I’ve been in the real sea” you gushed, submerging fully before meeting Azriel’s eyes, then noticing the swirl of red in the water around him. 

“Are you hurt?” Your hand met his cheek softly, scanning him for wounds. 

“That's Dayles, he won’t come for you here, he won’t come for anyone anywhere actually” He laughed a little macabre laugh, your hand falling to his shoulder. 

“Thank you, Azriel, how could I ever repay you?” “Live your life YN…and never sing for my family again” he laughed more cheerfully this time, a smile dashing across your face. 

“Deal” you smiled, putting out your hand to shake his. The contact beneath the water felt electric, helping you to feel alive again. 

“Just come back and visit me” he said sadly and you nodded moving to force yourself to swim away. 

“YN…before you go, can you, can you sing for me?” the question caught you off guard, no one willingly wanted a sirens song, it normally certain death or full control handed over. 

“I would never Azriel, you’re the one person I don’t want to hear my song”

“I want to know all of you” Azriel pulled you back against his chest, captivating your mouth with his. His warm lips tasted the salt on yours, drinking in every and all flow of energy. Your arms stretched around his neck as he found your waist, anchoring him to you. 

“Hey if you two are finished playing mermaids, we gotta go clean up Azzies little mess!” Cassian called from the shore, tucking himself further into his leather jacket, the bitting wind nipping him. 

“I don’t ever want to be finished playing with you” Azriel whispered, taking your hand beneath the water as you both began to wade to the shore. 

“I knew you were a super fan”

--------------------------------

Whatcha think! Did you see the taylor reference?

[izsheum]

Hello!!!

Can i listen to you yap about rodimus and swerve for hours please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

WHEN I TOLD YOU I JUMPED FOR JOY!!!

ugh these guys have been in my brain for a bit now…i swear

“it’d be cool if i took my favs and made them kiss haha that’d be so silly” and then Boom. I kept thinking.

have some art of them i am in the trenches methinks

when i tell you they are PEAK yapper + louder yapper…

like i genuinely believe that’s how it can start. two losers who love to hear themselves talk? it should be a recipe for disaster.

However.

it’s not like swerve doesn’t know when it’s not his turn to talk. he’s got a big mouth, and criminal levels of audacity, but he has manners. and that means that whenever rodimus goes on and on about whatever bullshit he had to deal with during the day, he listens.

and, good lord, rodimus can definitely talk.

he does so with swerve probably after having a few because i mean…that’s how this starts, surely. a bottle of top-shelf and a purely functional arrangement.

(hundreds of words of sleep-deprivation-induced writing under the cut. i am so sorry. completely sfw btw just barely on the edge of suggestive.)

predictably, swerve’s constant chatter is bearable after rodimus gets in a few drinks. and in the beginning of Whatever The Hell They Got Going On starts with the two of them building a routine.

swerve supplies the shots of liquid stress relief and a listening ear (audio processor? cybertronian anatomy is lost on me), and rodimus provides what can only be described as a semi-coherent stream of complaints and whines about his day. and he has a lot to gripe about—he’s suffering from an acute case of ‘doomed by the narrative’, primus help him.

and swerve, for the most part, is quite a good active listener. not that rodimus would ever admit that out loud (for now) because swerve wouldn’t be able to keep that kinda praise to himself. i mean, the guy raved for months after getting his own rodimus star…yeah, no, not happening. rodimus’ appreciation will remain unspoken, thank you very much.

he gets his sentiment of ‘thank you for listening to my bullshit, you’re such a good friend’ out there by continuing to show up. same time, every day, like clockwork. he’s there in the bar, long laundry list of things he’s going to cry like a baby about, and swerve is at the ready with the fainting couch. their little ‘whine and cheese hour’ (as swerve calls it. rodimus will adamantly deny that he likes the name. it’s not clever. it’s not! it’s apparently a human thing, anyways. little thief.) is probably the only thing he’s ever on-time for at this rate.

having someone listen politely to your woes is. nice! having someone gently try and guide you into solutions to said problems is…manageable, i suppose.

having someone who gasps dramatically and exclaims “i can’t believe you had to deal with that—you’re so much stronger than me for putting up with such scrap” is euphoric.

because since getting the weight of the universe thrust on his shoulders again and again. since he had it ground into him every single day that he needs to be this mature, wise, thoughtful leader who doesn’t react to problems with complaints, but rather calm understanding followed by benevolent resolution…rodimus has completely, truly missed just being able to talk shit.

and, oh, does swerve just love that song and dance.

this isn’t therapy, and neither of them are going to pretend it is, though the constant flow of drinks does manage to feel like something akin to self-medication after a while. their lives are messy, god damn it, and they’re going to cope with it messily!

and cope they do. and they talk. a lot. and—for some reason—it helps. turns out, when you get to vent all your frustrations towards someone who knows how to match your energy exactly, you feel seen. not as this esteemed figure who needs to watch what he says and make sure he keeps up the display of picture-perfect-motivational-cat-poster-leader twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five…but as just. a guy. a guy with a lot on his shoulders and a lot more on his mind. turns out, talking with swerve ends up helping rodimus feel normal.

go figure.

and somewhere between the start of their little unofficial gossip sessions and the end of another bottle of the good engex, something bubbles up that wasn’t there before. and it isn’t the carbonation in the cocktail.

feelings. affectionate ones. rodimus goes to recharge afterwards all giddy, like some newly forged spark still buzzing with boundless energy, and honestly? he feels like he might be going crazy. might need some actual fucking therapy, because ho-ly shit he is not about to entertain this. not at all.

because, let’s be real here, it’s swerve we’re talking about. swerve. s-w-e-r-v-e. the ‘shut your damn mouth’ guy? he used to annoy the living hell out of rodimus when he first came aboard, and nowadays rodimus finds himself excited at the thought of going to talk to him again.

war changes people…and, okay, the war is. over, technically. but still. maybe he hit his head a little too hard during a mission. yeah! yeah, that’s it. little concussion knocked a couple things loose in his processor. that’s why he’s suddenly wanting to share more than just his woes with the little ‘bot. that’s why he starts asking swerve about himself, why he starts listening back. chimes in every so often with “huh, i never knew that” or “you should show that to me some time” when swerve goes on his little tirades about foreign media.

why rodimus can’t help but wonder how that big mouth would feel against—

phew! yeah, definitely brain damage. because the alternative is that rodimus has started feeling terrible, awful, affectionate things for swerve. and that just won’t do. nope!

but ohhhhhh god, does that do nothing to stop his imagination. because really. how would swerve fare if he used that mouth for something else—

thankfully for rodimus, swerve is an avid fan of imagining things that he can never have. dreaming like the hopeless mech he is about a future that only someone as deeply delusional and para-social as himself could think up.

in his swerve-y fantasy, the talks start to mean something. rodimus goes from coworker to situational friend to…something. something that he can’t place his finger on. but it’s something that he doesn’t believe he can have. because while rodimus laughs at his jokes…he’s also laughing drunk. and swerve is desperate to let people close, sure. he likes people, he wants friends, he loves connection. but he’s not stupid. a bit air-headed? sure. but not dumb. not by a long shot. he has a mental list of things that he can try to have (friendship, a successful business, endless adventures with said friends that he plans to get more of, he swears), and things that are off-limits.

you can guess which box rodimus starts to fall into.

doesn’t mean he can’t…y’know. think about him. a lot. find excuses to comm him about this or that, subtly hint that he misses him…uh, he meant their talks! offer him free drinks just to see the way his face lights up. deny the suspicion of special treatment by reminding rodimus that he’s the captain! c’mon! of course he deserves a little leeway!

and ignore the fact that the reassurance is more for himself.

swerve is so good at believing that this something he imagines with rodimus is so, so far out of reach that he thinks it’s a joke when rodimus propositions him for the first time.

and, c’mon, he’s gotta be having auditory hallucinations. because there’s no fucking way in the world—in the galaxy, or in the whole universes that he’s visited, for that matter—that (co-) captain fucking rodimus prime-not-prime-status-still-pending-thanks-a-lot-matrix-of-lameship asked to borrow him for the evening. he nearly drops the glass in his hand.

because that’s the only way rodimus can bring himself to phrase it when he finally fucking gets through all five-billion stages of grief over this stupid crush. god. he was so pathetic. the worst part was that he didn’t even care anymore.

“yo! are you working tonight? can i borrow you for the rest of it? we can watch that movie you were talking about earlier this week, or whatever.”

or whatever. rodimus would’ve just tossed himself out the nearest airlock if he wasn’t glued to his recharged slab (not literally, this time) rocking back and forth like an asylum patient. he could hear the cries now—nurse! nurse! he’s out again!

successful attempts at being casual: zero. days since last urge to ram his head into the wall: also zero.

swerve’s response comes in quickly just before rodimus contemplates jumping ship and taking a page outta megatron’s book and starting a new life in another universe. and if rodimus wasn’t busy having a fucking panic attack, he’d’ve noticed the undercurrent of excitement in swerve’s voice when he strains out those six little words.

“sure thing! your place or mine?”

it ends up being at rodimus’. more space meant more wall for the projection of ‘Alien’.

not that they ended up paying much attention to the movie by the time the fledgling xenomorph got loose.

and liiiisten. listen. they didn’t plan on it going that way, alright? major props to ridley scott—the two of them were intensely invested in the film for a good long while. but, as per usual, swerve brought drinks to help ease the tension that threatened to smother them as soon as he entered rodimus’ quarters.

he would’ve pat himself on the back, too, if he wasn’t so consumed by the way the light of the projection reflected off of rodimus’ frame. and rodimus would’ve thanked him (and i mean, like, actually thank him, no reluctance left in him whatsoever) if he wasn’t so focused on the warmth of swerve next to him.

the elephant in the room was slaughtered and left for dead in the same way as the crew of the nostromo as soon as they locked eyes.

and rodimus ended up being right.

swerve’s mouth could do a lot more than just talk.

[aerinaga]

can you please write a fic about paige based on this post please please please 🤗

angel in heat.

paige bueckers x reader

warnings: smut (thigh riding, makeout sesh)

note: i wrote this during art class. i miss you guys, i’m sorry for being ia. been busy 🫶🏻

you were out with your girls for the day. paige had dropped you off at your friends house, telling you to text her if you needed to be picked up.

you had went out with your friends, bar hopping around the city. you and your friends danced on the dance floor, jammed to the songs played by the dj, drank til you dropped. it was nearly 1am, texting paige to pick you up.

while waiting for her, you saw a wlw couple near you. they were making out by the sides of the bar, no one minding them since the place was busy. you watched them and felt like you needed what they were doing. you felt like you were being teased.

forgetting your thoughts, you saw your girlfriends car stop in front of the club you were at. you immediately rushed to the car, getting in your “passenger princess” labeled seat.

“hey wifeyyy” you slur out in your drunken state.

she chuckles at you, finding how cute you are when you’re tipsy.

“hi baby, you ready to go home?”

you nod at her, not feeling the need to speak.

as the both of you were driving home, you felt her hand creep up on your thigh. your stomach churned at the feeling, the butterflies and sex thoughts were coming up to your system. your breath hitched from what she was doing, resisting yourself from moaning.

regardless, paige felt you stiffen up at what she did. and she knew it turned you on.

you entered your shared apartment with paige, immediately sitting yourself down on the sofa from exhaustion. paige approached you with a glass of water and medicine, to avoid you from getting a hangover the next morning.

while you were drinking water, paige asked you “oh that turned you on, didn’t it?”

you nearly choked on your water, putting the glass down on your table.

“which one?” you asked.

“when i had my hand up your thigh, baby.”

you slowly nodded at her. you looked like a mess, but to paige? you looked like a princess begging for something with doe eyes.

she sat down on the same couch as you, signaling you to sit on her lap.

“come here baby. take your underwear off before sitting on my lap, hm?”

you sat on her lap in your flowy dress, with no underwear on. you were aroused, almost dripping in fact, at the sight of her.

you wasted no time wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into a heated kiss. your drunken state made you even hornier, and the fact that your girlfriend had such a hot outfit on made it even worse.

her hands gripped at your waist, then to your hips, then putting her hands under your dress to squeeze the flesh on your ass. and boy, it felt so damn good.

you started to slowly grind on her thigh, the feeling of it being slippery from how wet you felt. paige slowly kissed down on your neck, sucking on it lightly. your hands clawed at her pink dyed hair, gripping it like it was a stress reliever.

you fastened your pace, paige was holding you down her thigh to make it even faster. she flexed her thigh for you to feel more friction, as she wanted you to feel pleasure.

at this point, you were a moaning mess. the basketball players hair was messy, your lipgloss was smudged around, your dress was hiked up to your waist. it was blissful.

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum.” you repeatedly tell her.

“cum for me baby, i wanna feel you.”

[w1shfullthink1ng]

can i get a nika fic based on the song back to friends by sombr PLEASE 🙏🙏

HOW CAN WE GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS?

nika mühl x fem!reader

DESCRIPTION/ you & nika have always been close but how close is too close? y’all eventually let y’all’s bodies take over and when the morning comes you don’t know what this means for you two now.

WARNINGS/ language, suggestive, smutt, p eating (reader & nika receiving), slight f!ngering? (reader receiving), mentions of alcohol, angsty, happy ending!

first time writing something suggestive so please bear with me😔😔😔

MUSIC BLASTING, LIGHTS LOW…the atmosphere loud and full of life. You, nika and a few of y’all’s friends decided to go out as it’s been long overdue especially with balancing life & work. Yall settled on a local bar, a few drinks in and y’all where gone. The alcohol taking its course in y’all’s bodies. You and nika have always been close, y’all first met 3 years ago y’all’s first year at uconn and have been roommates/best friends since then.

But there’s always been that unspoken tension, the looks, the touches that linger for a little longer than needed. It was even worse when y’all where alone there was times where the moment was just intimate. But y’all never spoke about it not wanting to “ruin” the friendship you guys have built. “Come on come dance with me” before you could respond nika was pulling you out of the barstool and to the dance floor. You laugh as the alcohol made her much more carefree. Y’all dance to the song bodies up against each other as the music blasts.

The world seemed to slow down when y’all locked eyes there it was. that unspoken tension. It’s like there was no one else in the room. Her grip around your waist tightens a little. “You look beautiful tonight..” she moves a strand of hair out of your face her touch lingering, her gaze goes down to your lips. The moment was cut off by one of y’all’s friends suggesting y’all do shots.

As the drinks keep coming so does the tension, the room felt hot as you two got more and more touchy. You exuse yourself to the restroom, nika following soon after. You smile softly as your gaze meets hers through the bathroom mirror. You reapply your lipstick as she wraps her arms around your waist and her chin rests on your shoulder. “Can I have some?” she asks “innocently”. “mhm” you reply, you turn to hand her the lipstick but she kisses you. You’re momentarily stunned. She just has a casual smirk on her face “What shade is this? it’s pretty” she asks like she didn’t just stop your train of thought for a moment. “yeah- it’s uhh..pillow talk deep from charlotte tilbury.” “always loved the color of your lips” she admits.

touch my body tender ‘cause the feeling make me weak.

without thinking you smashed your lips onto hers. Your hands in her hair, her hands around your waist. She pins you against the wall sliding her tongue in your mouth in a fight for dominance, she easily over powers you, gripping your neck gently moving your head back so she can deepen the kiss. She had you right where she wanted you. Her knee slides in between your legs making you even needier if that was possible. She pulls away at a gasp for air. Lipstick smudged like modern art. She wipes some of the lipstick that smudged from your bottom lip.

You fix your hair and dress making yourself look presentable. As nika made some bullshit exuse on why you two had to leave to y’all’s friends and before y’all knew it y’all where off in a cab. The messy make out in the car lead into stumbling out of the cab and into y’all’s shared apartment.

kicking off the covers.

She pushed you into the wall, kissing down your jaw & neck. She grips your thighs lifting you up with ease as you wrap your legs around her waist. Neither of yall didn’t dare to say a word just letting y’all’s bodies do the talking. Your back sinks into the mattress as she climbs on top of you. The kisses where full of need and want.

She kisses down you neck, to your chest, down your stomach till she lands in between your thighs, she looks up at you for silent permission. You nod giving her the go ahead, she studies your expression making sure there’s no sense of hesitation or discomfort when she doesn’t find any that’s all she needed. She lifts your dress up making it sit above your waist as she kisses on your thighs.

I see the ceiling while you’re looking down at me.

Her fingers tease you through the thin fabric of your panties making you whine. Nika laughs softly “So fuckin’ wet hmm”. “Nika please” you whimper, it comes out more whiny then you intended but you where needy. “shhh i’m getting there” she places a soft kiss on your core through the thin fabric making you moan softly she gently slides your panties down your legs. She grabbed your thighs to spread your legs apart. She was in awe of you “So pretty bebo..”

Her mouth mouth finally comes into contact with you, you let out a moan your body feeling like it was on fire in the best way possible. She works at you like it was her job and she wanted a raise. Her tongue glides across your folds making you squirm. “so good for me” she murmured against you. She was driving you crazy. You where a moaning mess it wasn’t long before she had you moaning her name and begging for more.

“please nika please please please” you squirmed you weren’t exactly sure just what you where begging for but nika delivered holding your thighs to keep your legs open as she applied the right amount of pressure at the perfect speed. Your hands in her hair tugging it slightly to ground yourself.

She rubbed her fingers against you just to tease you and bring you over the edge. Your legs shaking unable to stop the sounds from coming out of your mouth. “come on I got you baby..” and like it was on command she pushed you over the edge slowly her pace down riding you out of your high.

You swore that you died for a second then came back, you where seeing stars, nika laughs as she places gentle kiss on your jaw “You back on earth?” she teases. “oh fuck you” you snap back playfully. She gives you that same look she did just a few moments ago “oh yeah? why don’t you fuck me yourself” you laugh taking that as a challenge flipping the two of you over so you’re on top “there we go pretty girl” her hands go to your thighs caressing them as you slip out of your dress.

She watches you with hungry eyes her look almost taunting. You slip her out of her dress throwing it off to the floor somewhere. Kissing down her chest, abs and thighs, you slide her panties off immediately diving in like you where starved “oh fuck” she moans out gripping your hair guiding your head just where she wanted you. You swirl your tongue around earning a moan from her “just like that keep going bebo good job”. She guides you through everything still in control.

“don’t stop…go a little faster for me come on” she pulls your hair making you whine, you do as your told eager to please her. You bring her thighs over your shoulders pulling her closer to you. She grips your hair harder as she moans your name once you bring her over the edge.

You climb back up flopping next to her, both of you panting and satisfied. “well shit…” she pants out. “guess your mouth is good for something other than your yapping” she laughs “oh shut up!” you hit her playfully with a pillow. Y’all where both pretty exhausted after the events of the night so y’all fell asleep pretty quickly.

how can we go back to being friends?

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache and a fuzzy brain. You groan softly rubbing your eyes adjusting to the light from the morning sun. You sit up a little and the memories from last night came flooding back as you find yourself entangled with your best friend, clothes scattered on the floor. The realization hitting you like a truck. You pull the covers over yourself as nika stirs up. She sits up too her back against the headboard. The same realization washes over her “oh shit..” she mumbled running her hands through her messy hair.

when we just shared a bed.

You sit in silence for a few moments the tension in the air thick and not the kinda tension from last night. no. this was a “wtf do I do” kinda tension. You where the first to speak “so last night was a-“ “one time thing.” she finishes. “right…is that what you want?” “it’s what’s practical. we live together we can’t just..” she sighs “we can’t what?” you egg on “we can’t let things get weird okay. i’m not gonna throw away our friendship over some drunk hookup” you scoff softly “is that all this was to you? a drunk hookup?” “yes.” “bullshit. you and I both know it was more than that. we’ve had unspoken tension for awhile now”

How can you look at me and pretend?

“tension or not if this becomes a regular thing then what? hmm? we’re just fuck buddy roommates yeah. real classy” she says sarcastically “God nika no. I mean I don’t know okay. maybe we shouldn’t have hooked up in the first place.” “okay so first you where saying that it wasn’t just meaningless sex now you’re saying you wished we didn’t have it at all?? I mean you’re fuc-“ you cut her off with a kiss. “just shut up.”

I’m someone you’ve never met.

She looked a little dumbfounded. “okay. umm..i’m too hungover for this where the hell are my clothes” she stumbles out of bed. “nika. we need to talk about it.” “I can’t not now we should just pretend it never happened and move on with our life’s it was a drunken mistake let’s leave it at that.” she says while getting dressed. Her words stung a little. was it really that meaningless?

You watched as she leaves your bedroom. You couldn’t shake off the icky feeling she left you with. You sigh and take a shower needing to wash your worries away…and the smell of alcohol. You two spent the whole day avoiding each other which was a little hard considering y’all lived together but y’all somehow managed.

It was late at night and you where tossing and turning unable to sleep you hated this whole situation you where someone who needed to talk things out and you hated going to bed angry. Unable to sleep you slip out of bed and to the kitchen to get some melatonin. You try to reach the top shelf, Nika would normal help with these things..you climb onto the counter.

“Bebo get down your gonna hurt yourself..” nika grabs your waist steading you on the counter so you don’t fall as she grabs the melatonin bottle for you “can’t sleep?” she puts her hands on either side of the counter trapping you in. You ignore her still upset from earlier you pop the melatonin in your mouth then try to hop off the counter but she grips your waist putting you back down on the counter.

“Hey no. we’re gonna talk I don’t want you going to bed angry” “oh so now you wanna talk? about what it was a drunken mistake and we should leave it at that remember?” you quote her. “Look I was being an asshole earlier i’ll admit that” “yeah you were.” she cups your face “And you have every right to be angry..look I just don’t know how to communicate well you know this..I just shielded myself because I got scared of what last night really meant” her voice was vulnerable you rarely saw this side of nika she was pretty guarded so you know she was serious when she got vulnerable.

“It wasn’t just meaningless sex that was real..and there was clearly emotion behind it..look I know I said I didn’t wanna throw away our friendship over this but truth is i’ve fell for you hard. and there’s no hiding or denying that now..” “nika..why didn’t you say anything?” “beacause I was scared of taking a chance and it not work out I don’t wanna lose you all together” “you could never lose me niks..don’t miss out on something…on us just because of fear” “I know I was being an idiot” “I’ll say” you laugh “alright alright not too much i’m here now and if you’re the risk i’m gonna take it.”

A/N ahhhh!!!!! I was literally shaking in my boots and laughing at myself the whole time because i’ve never written smutt and I could not take myself seriously kudos to everyone who can teach me your ways🤝 but thank you so much anon for this request! I hope I delivered 🙂‍↕️

thanks for reading, love you always

wish signing off🪽

[duskvsdawn]

Care for a drink?

There had been a new club in town for a few months now that you frequented. You had grown quite fond of the bartender working there, but little did you know that he had started to like you, too. He always provided you with lovely drinks, but that night, you got an interesting one.

CW: female reader, smutty smut smut, alcohol consumption, Zeal gives you an aprodesiac, Zeal takes advantage of that but stays a gentleman, unprotected sex, reader and Zeal snowball a drink, he uses a lot of loving nicknames for you

Art credits.

≫ A/N: Ha, you expected the fic from the poll, didn't you? *insert Dio meme here* Don't worry, I will still write that one as well! But this idea popped into my mind, and I had to write for it. I used to write a lot about aphrodesiacs (if you're thinking "well, where are they?" I never posted them) and the wonderful @celestiaras gave me the idea to write one for myself because of this lovely fic that I love so much

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It was friday night, the usual night where you went to this new club with your friends, and usually the night after that too, but not always. It was ran by a group called By The Beat, that consisted of a wonderful bouncer called Kaelix with cute puppy energy that always greeted you as one, a designer named Freodore that was way more adorable and laid back then you initially thought, and the always happy-go-lucky adorable Seible which was the promoter of the group. And then, there was the bartender... Oh... That bartender. You guys were regulars, so Kaelix greeted you all with his usual adorable smile and let you in. You took a seat at the bar. The bartender turned around to greet you.

"Ah, I was expecting you girls. Welcome back!" The raven bartender said with a smile that never failed to make butterflies appear in your stomach. Your friends noticed the blush creeping onto your cheeks and teased you about it, as they always did. But you weren't the only one getting teased. Little did you know that Zeal's friends always did the very same every time he talked about you with a dreamy sigh.

"The usual to start you girls off?" The bartender asked as he got out some shot glasses. You all nodded, and he got busy filling two shot glasses for each of you with your favourite drinks. After he got done making your drinks, you all said a "cheers!" and knocked back your shots. Your friends went to the dancefloor after that, knowing full well you would rather sit at the bar to spend some more time with the bartender. One of your friends put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a wink as she followed the others to the dance floor.

You sat there, slowly letting the alcohol take its effect on you. You folded your hands under your head and chatted with the bartender whenever he wasn't busy making drinks for other customers. At this point, it was normal for both of you to share how your week had been, talking about everything that had happened. You had learned quite a few things about him, like his name, age, where he lived, his likes and dislikes, and you also knew he was a mysterious man with a secret past. He never told you details about that subject, but you had heard it from other people around town. And that mysterious part only made him more alluring to you. As you were chatting, Freo came up behind the bar to order a drink from his friend. As Zeal made his drink, he leaned over the bar to ruffle your hair, something he usually did as you had grown quite close with not only the bartender, but also his friends. Freo walked around the bar to give you a hug and tell you a secret: the raven bartender had a special drink planned for you later, a new recipe apparently, but he had no idea what was in it. He continued and asked you to not let the bartender know he had shared this little secret with you. You giggled and promised you would pretend you didn't know. The bartender handed his friend his drink, and after another ruffle of your hair, Freo walked off to go back to his own work.

"What were you talking about with Freo just now?" The bartender curiously asked. You shook your head and said it was nothing important. Zeal just shrugged his shoulders and went to greet and serve the customers that just sat down at the bar.

You had a few more drinks, and your friends occasionally came back to the bar to have a few as well, but as teasing as they could be, they respected that you loved to have some alone time with the bartender tonight and went back to the dancefloor. The bartender leaned over the bar and asked you, "I've got a special drink I'd like you to try. What do you say, wanna try it?" You told him you'd like to try it, pretending you had no idea about the little secret that Freo shared with you.

The bartender started mixing your drink for you, knowing full well you always loved seeing him at work. As he was mixing some of your favourites in the glass, he suddenly pulled out a tiny glass bottle from under the bar. It was a strange-looking bottle. You were quite knowledgeable about alcohol, but you've never seen this before. Such a tiny bottle, unlabelled, you got curious what could possibly be in it. When the bartender got done mixing your drink, it had changed colour. It was a pinkish/reddish colour, something you've never seen before. "Cheers!" you said as you took a sip. It was an interesting taste. It tasted of fudge candy, one of your all-time favourites. You wondered why it had that taste. Did you at some point tell him about liking the candy during one of your drunken nights and having no memory of it, or was this pure coincidence? The bartender asked you what you thought of the drink.

"I quite like it. It's so flavourful. And the colour is so interesting. How did you manage to make this combination?" You asked him, but he told you it was a special recipe especially for you, and he refused to share the secret with you. You kept sipping the drink, it was delicious, but it also felt incredibly strong, much stronger than any drink he's ever made for you before. After a little while, you started feeling kind of... Turned on. Which was normal for you after you'd had a few drinks and were in such close proximity to the bartender, but this time it felt different. As you finished your drink, some sweat had started appearing on your forehead, and the club suddenly felt suffocating. Every time you shared a look with the bartender after finishing your drink, heat was sent right to your core, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the minute. What was this drink even made of? What had he put in it? Was it what you thought it was? Had he done it on purpose? So many questions ran through your head, but you weren't sure if you would get a direct answer if you had asked him.

"Would you like another drink?" The bartender asked, acting completely oblivious to your... situation. But he knew. Oh, he could tell it was taking hold of you. You were fumbling with your clothes, wiping the sweat from your forehead, and you were rubbing your legs together to provide some sort of friction; nothing went unnoticed by him. You replied you'd like a shot of your regular poison, and the bartender got to work. He served you your drink, giving you a wink as he did. "Here you go, my lady," he said. After that wink, something in you just snapped. You took the shot, but little did the bartender know that you didn't swallow it. You beckoned for the bartender to lean closer. He did so, not quite sure what you had planned. You looked around to see if there were any other customers at the bar, and luckily for you, there were none, so you could set your plan in motion. You grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips onto his, sharing the drink with him. It felt like a dream to both of you. Finally. Finally, his lips were on yours after this certain drink gave you the courage to do so. Your tongue darted out to explore his mouth, and you moaned so loudly when it brushed against his. Little did you know that one of your friends was on her way to the bar. But when she saw what was going on, she giggled and went back to the dancefloor to leave you be, and tell your other friends that there might be a chance you would not be heading home with them tonight. Truly, the best wingwoman.

After your kiss, both of you had to gasp for air, you much more than the raven bartender due to the drink he had served you. The bartender tapped his colleague on the shoulder, who knew that this was going to happen sooner or later, so he could tell him to take over for the night. The colleague just chuckled and shook his head as Zeal walked from behind the bar towards you. He took your hand in his.

"Come with me," he said, and you couldn't deny him. He took you to an area you had never seen before. It kind of looked like a sort of VIP booth. He closed the door behind him and proceeded to lock it. Most of the music was barely audible now; it must be a soundproof room. "Take a seat," he said as he pointed at the comfy-looking red couch. You plopped down on it, and he sat down next to you. He then wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer.

"Are you feeling alright? You're acting kind of weird," he said.

"I... I'm not sure. I feel hot all over and uhm... like I really need you right now. What was in that special drink of yours?" you replied, the rosy blush you'd had on your cheeks since the first few drinks getting a shade darker after you confessed this to him.

"I have a confession to make." the bartender said as he pat his lap, signalling you to sit down on it, so you did. "I had no idea if this would ever happen without the drink, so I put an aphrodesiac in it. I just could not hold back anymore. I had to have you." he continued as a blush covered his cheeks as well.

"You could have just asked me. I would have never denied you..." you said, barely above a whisper. The bartender's eyes widened. Yeah, he had an inkling that you liked him, but he had no idea you were this down bad. Or did he sabotage that by giving you the drink, and were these not your actual feelings? He decided to not worry about that now as he crashed his lips onto yours. Your moans got muffled as you shared the most intense French kiss you've ever had. His hands started to wander lower, grabbing a hold of your ass. Meanwhile, you had entangled your hands in his hair after you had knocked the fedora off his head. After you shared that kiss, you hid your head in his neck to leave some kisses and hickeys there. Your head moved up a little to whisper something in his ear.

"I need you... I need you now." You admitted as you proceeded to take off your shirt. After you did, your hands landed on his chest, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt to get them off as soon as possible. The bartender chuckled to help you take it off, since he noticed you were getting impatient. After both shirts were off, the two of you went to take off the remaining clothes. When you were both in just your underwear, Zeal gently pushed you onto your back on the comfy couch.

"God... You're so beautiful," he said as he got busy covering your body in kisses. But it wasn't enough for you. You felt like you were going to explode if you didn't have him inside of you this instant. You let out a frustrated growl as your hand grabbed the hem of his underwear to take it off. The bartender gave you another chuckle that sent absolute fire down your spine and took off his underwear, after he asked you to lift your butt so he could take off yours. Zeal reached over to grab a condom out of the little table next to the couch, but you swatted it out of his hands. "I'm on the pill, and I'm clean. Got a feeling you are too. I need to feel you now, or I will go insane." You said with a frustrated growl as you wrapped your legs around him to pull his hips closer to yours, as your hands held his head to pull him into another hungry kiss.

"Alright then, princess, your wish is my desire." The bartender said with a chuckle in between kisses. He unwrapped your legs from his hips because he decided he wanted to put you in a mating press instead, so he did. Normally the position would embarrass the everliving shit out of you, but you were so sexually frustrated that you couldn't care less at the moment. He noticed you were getting more and more irritated, so in one swift move, he pushed inside of you. You let out such a loud moan, it's a good thing the room is pretty soundproof. "Get ready to get fucked so hard you won't be able to walk for a few days." he continued as he started moving in and out of you in a quick pace. It felt so good that moans kept spilling from your mouth in quick succession. This was exactly what you needed. You clawed at his back, leaving red marks on it. Every thrust felt deeper than the last, and such pornographic moans left your mouth that turned Zeal on more than he would ever dare to admit. His mouth moved to your neck, his pace never relenting, to suck and bite on the skin right underneath your ear. All the stimulation made you go absolutely bonkers. You felt like you were in heaven. The perfect sex, with the perfect man. His pace started to become erratic after a while, and he wanted to get you there with him.

His hand found your clit and rubbed it to give you extra stimulation. "Fuck, fuck fuck! I am so close, fuck!" you whimpered, the coil so close to snapping. You were so, so close and just a few more thrusts and a bite at your neck as he kept rubbing your clit sent you over the edge. You came with such wanton moans that that was what sent the bartender over the edge, too. "You're so beautiful, fuck." he said through gritted teeth as he emptied himself into you. He held you close as both of you rode out your orgasm, and that made butterflies swarm your stomach. After both of you came down from your high, you felt the need for more return. You let out a whine to draw his attention to you.

"What's wrong, baby? You alright?"

"Need... More..." you replied as you pulled him into another hungry French kiss. "You're the one who did this to me, so you better take care of it."

"I will take full responsibility. I promised you that you wouldn't be able to walk after all. Trust me, I am far from done." The bartender said as he sat up and pulled you up onto his lap, his dick still firm inside of you. "Ride me all you want, princess," the bartender said with such a husky, deep tone to his voice that it gave you a second wind to keep going.

Oh, this was going to be a long, long night.