#didn’t make a lick of sense but I sure as hell enjoyed it

[todolist-nothing07]

Liiiissssttteeennnnn…..

I am Spideypool anyday……

But the Poolverine brain rot is real I’m afraid…

[misaamoure]

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

“Fuck you… mmph!”

Sylus chuckled lowly at you attempting to muffle your voice.

It always started with a little bit of an argument.

It’s not that you two didn’t get along; it’s just that you didn’t always get along. Arguably because of him.

For whatever fucking reason, Sylus loved to tease you and get under your skin.

Whether this be by stealing the glasses right off your face and holding them high above your head, even going as far as to suspend them in air with his evol, or generally just poking and prodding at you verbally until you snapped; he got an odd kick out of pissing you off.

And then turning around and acting as if you were the unreasonable one.

You often pondered what his redeemable traits were, if he had any. Nonetheless you made a deal, and it would hurt your pride not to fulfill it.

Annoying as he was, he was stupidly handsome, and his deep voice and tantalizing stature sent chills down your spine.

Sometimes you liked it when he bullied you. Just a little bit… not a lot.

Especially when it progressed on to a charged type of banter.

“Watch your mouth, kitten.” He’d pretend to warn you ever so sternly. As if his cock wasn’t aching in his pants at your defiance.

He found you so hot when you got like this.

“Or what, Sylus? What are you gonna do?” And you’d egg him on every single time.

Then he’d get up, walk over to you, grab your neck and slam you into the wall behind you.

He’d grip the sides of your neck harshly and force you to look up at him, which made your glasses shift.

“You’re aching for it that bad, huh? Maybe you’re useless at seducing me, because this seems to be the only way you know how to get me to fuck you.”

You looked up at a him with hooded eyes, your hands gripping arm he was using to choke you.

Sylus wasn’t oblivious to how you were trying to hide how pleased you were with yourself.

He knew you loved it as much as him. Riling each other up like this. Matching each others energy.

“Fucking hell,” He threw his head back, feeling his cock throb at just the look you were giving him. “Open.”

You did exactly as he said, not breaking eye contact as you opened your mouth for him.

Sylus wasted no time in moving the hand around your neck and running his thumb over your lips and tongue before spitting in your mouth.

“Swallow.”

You did exactly as he said, not missing the glint in his eye and the palpable bulge in his pants as he watched you.

“Say you liked it.”

“I liked it, Sylus. Please give me more.”

“You’re such a dirty little bitch.” He put his hand over his face, trying to hide his smile.

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at how much he was clearly enjoying this and how you were enjoying playing into him, you take the hand he put over his face and move it to the back of your head as you get on your knees.

You couldn’t mistake how wet you were, annoying and hurtful to your pride as it was.

This dynamic was so invigorating, and you were so attracted to him.

Once again not breaking eye contact, you licked the expanse of his hard on through his black slacks, sending a shiver down his spine.

“That’s a good girl. Keep going, just like that.” He breathed out.

Unbuttoning his pants, you made quick work of taking his cock out.

That was another thing about him… his size was annoyingly impressive.

His dick was thick and lengthy, and he knew exactly how to use it. That’s why you even bothered entertaining his fuckery in the first place.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?”

You hummed, more eager to have his dick inside of you than anything.

“I think I want to fuck you first,” He quickly reached down and grabbed your arm, pulling you up. “Turn around.”

It was times like this you were sure Sylus had a sixth sense for you and your desires.

You once again did exactly as you were told, making quick work of your mini skirt and the panties you were wearing underneath.

Pulling your skirt up and pushing your panties to the side, you reached back between your legs for his cock, making him chuckle.

“So eager,” He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, making you moan lightly. “You want it that bad?”

You huffed. Your attitude returning due to him fucking around again.

“Sylus for fucks sake,” You whipped your head around to look at him, staring at him pointedly. “Get the fuck on with it already!”

“You were so nice earlier,” He began to push the tip inside you before pulling out, teasing you as he loves to do. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me anymore.”

“Sylus-”

“Alright alright I’ll give you what you want.”

He finally pushed his entire cock into you, making your jaw drop.

Fuck it was so big. It was like he was in your guts.

“Oh… my god…” You whimpered, feeling your knees buckle.

Grabbing you by the waist, Sylus held you up.

“Easy there sweetie,” You practically could hear the smirk in his voice. “We barely started.”

“Shut up…!”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it, look how tough you were trying to act like his dick wasn’t making your knees weak.

He leaned forward, lips grazing your ear as he spoke, “Allow me to help you out.”

Taking both your hands in his, he bent you forward, pulling your arms up behind you and holding your wrists together with one hand.

You moaned at how deep he was in you in this position.

“Like that?” He ground his dick into you lightly, making you gasp. “Is that good?”

“Yesss Sylus,” You moaned out. “So good!”

That’s all it took for him to start fucking you in earnest.

Moans spilled from your lips with every thrust uncontrollably, the pleasure of him pounding into you was undeniable.

“So fucking tight, my god.” Sylus threw his head back and groaned.

He was just as loud in bed as you, he truly had no shame in his game in any aspect.

“You’re such a fucking slut you know that?” He grunted through clenched teeth.

“Yes… right there!” You practically screamed as he slammed right into your g-spot.

“Here?” He started fucking you even harder, aiming for that spot in specific.

Your mouth fell open into a silent gasp as your eyes rolled back.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer his question.

The pleasure make your clench down on him desperately, making him groan loudly.

“Keep doing that and you’ll make me cum.”

“Inside.” You babbled mindlessly, trying desperately to get your words out.

“What was that?” He smirked, using your arms as leverage to pull you back into his thrusts. “Couldn’t understand you.”

“Need you… to cum inside… Sylus!”

“Hm?”

You felt your orgasm impending as he continued to fuck into that one spot that made your vision go white.

You knew you weren’t gonna last much longer.

“Please please cum inside me!”

Sylus knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. Picking up the pace of his brutal thrusts, he felt that familiar knot in his abdomen tightening.

“Cumming… I’m cumming!”

He barely had time to respond before you were cumming all over his cock, squeezing him even tighter than before.

“Fuck…”

He felt your spend dripping down his balls every time he thrusted back into you.

Feeling his own orgasm quickly approaching, he thrust deep inside of you.

Moaning right in your ear, he came deep inside of you, feeling his cock twitch and throb with every spurt of thick cum.

It was so utterly satisfying to the both of you.

Sylus observed the milky white ring around his cock and he weakly thrust in and out of you, riding out his orgasm.

A content silence fell over the both of you.

That is, of course, until Sylus decided to ruin it.

“You’re so much cuter when you’re quiet, sweetie.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Mine (All Mine)

Request: None A/N: Please enjoy some short smut and possessive!cooper. Nothing important otherwise :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, attempted SA, P in V sex, Cooper licking blood, 18+ MINORS DNI! Summary: Cooper doesn't share what's his, and he sure as hell doesn't let anyone take it by force.

Word Count: 2.4k+

(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)

“Keep walkin’!” 

You stumble over the rusty leg irons binding your feet. The slave trader yapping in your ear proceeds to shove you once again, but you bite your tongue. 

Nothing could ever just go according to plan. 

Running low on both Vials and sustenance, you’d led a hacking Cooper into the nearest town. It was desolate, but what town wasn’t in this age? You weren’t planning on staying long anyway; you just needed to get Cooper somewhere relatively safe and barter with whoever happened to be running the pharmacy that day.

Too bad the entire town was run by Slavers, up to and including the old Mister Handy running its dingy medical outpost. You were sedated and down before the inkling to fight ever came along, left to wake up in a wood cage with your hands and feet bound. 

You went hoarse from screaming pointlessly at your captors. Your wooden prison was sat carelessly in the open, unbearable heat beating down. The whipping wind ensured that sand found its way into every crevice. There was no doubt your skin was scorched from the sun.

And they left you there, until the sun set and you could hear the roar of a raucous crowd from the town center. 

Cooper was back there somewhere, probably having hacked up a lung in the empty shell of a house you’d broken into on the outskirts of town. You were careful to board the door back up when you left, and hoped no one had retraced your steps. 

“I said move! You fuckin’ deaf?” A Slaver grabs you painfully by the ear and yanks. “Bein’ deaf drops your price.”

The other women you’re chained to - in a single file line behind you with very little slack on the chains - cower in fear. You glare at the man and decide headbutting him is the best course of action, knocking your skull into the soft part of his nose. 

“Wish I was so I didn’t have to hear you run your mouth.”

The Slaver cracks his most-likely broken nose back into place and smirks. “Maybe I’ll buy you myself. Teach you a damn lesson.”

He turns away then, letting the rest of the guards lead you down a narrow alley between two buildings. Creaky wooden stairs greet you, and you step up them without hesitation. If nothing else, you’d give the Slavers no sense of satisfaction by putting fear on display. 

The town square has been converted into a makeshift stage and audience area, where tens of people sit, stand and holler as you’re all led on stage. They all hold small signs with numbers, and it doesn’t take you long to realize it’s an auction. 

They start with the woman farthest to your left, yelling out how many caps they deemed her worthy of. It continues down the row until the auctioneer, who you realize had four eyes total on his face, stops in front of you. 

“Mint condition, this one is.” He yells into the crowd and slaps a firm hand onto your shoulder. “How many caps for her?”

You try to keep up with the people throwing numbers out, but there’s too many faces and not enough ambient light to see them all. Eventually the auctioneer moves away, and you’re left to stand there. The other women are given the same treatment, until each of them is labeled with a price and effectively sold to the highest bidder. 

The auctioneer makes an announcement about cap exchange as the crowd is dissipating, but you’re still bound in chains. Your eyes dart around, looking for any unbecoming figures that come towards you. Men meet with the auctioneer one by one, and are slowly allowed to leave with their prizes. The women are a mix of cryers and defiers, some simply accepting their fate with tears in their eyes while others scream and thrash as they’re dragged off. 

You look to the auctioneer when it’s only you left, trying to figure out what was going on. One slaver makes his way to you, grabbing at the iron cuffs  to unlock them. 

“Nah, man. Leave her cuffed.”

The slaver in front of you grins at the one who’d spoken. Coincidentally, the same whose nose you’d broken minutes ago. He steps into your field of view, and you realize he wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d buy you. Ice-cold terror flows through your veins at the helplessness of being cuffed, but you refuse to show it.

“Nasty, huh? Just how I like 'em’.”

Broken Nose grabs you by the collar and yanks you close enough that you can smell the teeth rotting out of his mouth. “Oh, I’m gonna like it. That’s for sure.”

In what is probably a poor choice, you spit in his face. Just like the headbut, it was impulsive and split-second. You don’t regret it, but you realize it’s not a great idea. Regardless, you weren’t about to go down without a fight. 

Unfortunately for you, now he’s not worried about damaging goods before a sale. The slaver backhands you, and the force sends you tumbling to the ground. You’re struggling to your hands and knees, tangled in ridiculously long chains and fumbling with your cuffs. Broken Nose kneels in front of you and grabs you by the neck. 

“Need a lesson in manners, huh?” He growls. 

You take your first good look at him. He’s probably ten years older than yourself, with yellowing teeth and greasy black hair that hangs in a stringy manner around his face. The bridge of his nose is bruised, yellow and purple all over. Dried blood is still caked around his mouth. 

“Fuck you.” 

He finally snaps, and grabs a hold of the chains. You’re dragged off the stage and pushed into the darkness of the alleyway. One fist latches into your hair, and the other replaces itself around your throat. 

“We’ll start here.” He shakes you, bringing your face within centimeters of his. “When I say something, you fuckin’ listen!” 

You’re on the ground before you know it, and large hands grab at the old leather belt around your waist. You kick and thrash to the best of your ability while bound, screaming like a banshee. The slaver manages to pin you down and crawl over top, one hand fumbling with the zipper of his pants while the other holds your cuffed wrists down. The sound of belts jangling encourages you to fight more, and you thrash upwards. He might be bigger than you, but he’s a sloppy fighter and lets one of your wrists slip free. 

Without hesitation, you swing the iron cuff and chain as hard as you can into his face. 

“Agh! You’re a dead bitch, you know that?” He stumbles to the side, leaning against a building for support and clutching his now-bleeding forehead. His pants hang loose, dirty boxers on display.

You’re on your back, covered in both your blood and his. Your chest heaves, and you stare down your would-be assaulter. 

“Y’know, I missed that last exchange.” A familiar drawl echoes from the back of the alley. “You mind repeatin’ it, boy?”

The Slaver snorts. “You want some? Go ahead and try. She’d be better off in the fuckin’ ground.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d have to try.” Spurs clank down the empty alleyway from behind you, “Somethin’ tells me she’d come willingly.”

The Ghoul stands firm in his place, hand hovering over his gun like an old western standoff. Your head drops to the ground in relief. The slaver, though, looks more and more irritated by the moment. He glares at the Ghoul who’s now only a few feet behind you.

“Fuckin’ ghoul.” Broken Nose growls, and pulls a pistol. “Why don’t you get lost?”

Cooper takes a few more steps forward, sidestepping your body. The Slaver keeps the gun level with him. “‘Fraid I can’t do that.”

“Oh yeah?” The slaver gestures wildly with his pistol. “Why’s that?”

The Ghoul darts forward like a puma, ducking the shot that’s fired at him. You see a knife glint in the dim light, and hear it cut through flesh. 

“‘Cause nobody touches what’s mine.”

A flash of heat shoots through you in spite of the circumstances. You watch Broken Nose fall to the ground, barely alive as blood gushes from a gash across his neck. Cooper’s knife drops from his hand, falling to blood-stained dirt. He turns to you slowly. 

“You alright?”

He’s covered in blood, obviously pissed off, and has never been more attractive. 

“Fantastic.” You breathe. The fiery determination and blatant possessiveness on display by the Ghoul shoot bolts of want straight to your cunt. 

The Ghoul steps over Broken Nose’s legs to get to you. His eyes are dark, but do a once over to check you for injuries. 

“He touch you?” Cooper’s drawl is thick. So much so that it almost twists his words into a snarl. 

You push yourself to sit up. “Not anywhere delicate.”

Cooper hums and uses your chains to pull you up. Your legs are sore from kicking, and arms raw from the cuffs. “Whatta ‘bout this?”

You look down as he reaches to you and fiddles with the unfastened belt. His hands linger at the button of your jeans, tugging at the fabric. 

“Oh, he tried.” You shiver as Cooper’s fingers  dance over the skin of your stomach. “But I wouldn’t let him.”

His leather gloves fist into your shirt and yank you close. You trip over the chains and fall into his chest. 

“Damn right.” His breath washes over your ear. “Nobody touches you like that but me.”

You’d be lying if you said wetness didn’t gather between your legs faster than a speeding bullet. Cooper’s eyes jotted town towards your dangling belt once more before he used your bounds to spin you back against the wall. One of his knees jammed between your thighs, and his hands landed heavily on either side of your head. 

You wet your lips as he hovers mere centimeters away. The Ghoul’s eyes are transfixed on your chest and stomach, where your white tank top is bared and covered in red stains. He lowers a hand to brush up your stomach, between your breasts and through rivulets of crimson. It’s immediately stuck into his mouth, and you moan shakily as his tongue darts out to taste your attacker’s blood. 

Cooper turns his head and spits. “Slavers always taste foul.” 

You readjust yourself on his knee to send pleasant waves of heat to your core. “Cooper Howard?”

He looks down at you, hat brim drawn low on his brow and desire burning bright in his eyes. There’s a bulge visible just below his belt that makes you salivate. 

“What could you possibly want, darlin’?” His marred face leans in close, lips brushing your ears. Teeth nip at your earlobe, “Couldn’t be to fuck right here in the open where you was attacked by some other fella, now is it?”

Now, you know that sentence should give you pause. 

However, this world is fucked beyond belief. 

You whimper out your answer, and the Ghoul continues his steady ministrations down your neck and in that sensitive spot behind your ear. With your hands bound, you can’t do much more than tangle your fingers in his shirt and hold. 

When he resurfaces, your neck is wet with saliva and sweat.

“I’ll take care of you, babydoll.” He purrs. “Right here, right now. You just gotta do one thing for me.”

You fist your hand in his shirt, but are surprised to find the cuffs slipping away after he fumbles with them for a moment. A quick glance shows him pocketing a key, but you’re too worked up to focus on one thing for too long. 

“What do I gotta do?”

You really don’t mean to sound so desperate, but something about Cooper always has you heated and dripping as soon as he initiates anything intimate. 

“Just tell me.” He grunts as you tug at his belt with newly freed hands. “Who do you belong to?”

Oh, you’re fucked.

“You. Fuck, I belong to you.” You gasp as you free him from his pants. “I want you to use me to get off.”

A scarred hand wraps tight around your neck and forces your head upwards. “Damn straight.”

It takes no time to yank your pants low enough for him to enter you. You’ve flipped so your front side is pinned to the building, legs spread. Cooper takes long, slow thrusts at first before picking up the pace. Large, strong hands hold your hips steady. You brace yourself with your hands, moaning in time with his thrusts. He’s stable throughout, only growling pet names into your ear when you let out a whine. The Ghoul begins to stagger when he’s close, and it’s not long before you feel his release coating your walls and dripping out onto the dirt. 

You don’t realize how unstable and sore your legs are until he’s sliding out of you, filthy noises following. His cock pulses against your swollen slit before you fully collapse. 

“Easy now.” Cooper catches you, one hand attempting to fasten himself back into his jeans, “Seems that we gotta go back to camp, huh?”

Your mind is alight with want for him, and you whine in his absence. “Coop, please.”

“Oh no need to beg, sugar.” He fixes your pants as well, “I plan on taking good care of you when we get there.”

Back at camp, he fulfills his promise and more. 

You beg and plead for your release, and it’s granted with enthusiasm. 

And after it’s done, you both ache for sleep, to rest sore muscles and heal new bruises. Some from fights, and others from passion. A blanket of stars coerces you to shut your eyes, and you’re helpless to resist. This night could have ended much differently - namely, with a bullet in your head- so you think about how grateful you are to have the legendary Ghoul at your side, protecting you on your shared journey for the truth. Willing to fight through his own suffering and dependencies to keep you safe in spite of his rocky exterior. 

You like to think he’s a big teddy bear, but you didn’t dare put it out into the world while in his vicinity.

The thoughts are fleeting, and you fall into oblivion while tucked into the side of vengeance itself. It’s a place many others, even in this hellscape of a Wasteland, wouldn’t dare to get near. 

The big, bad Ghoul.

And he’s all mine.

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[navybrat817]

can we just take a moment to ✨appreciate✨ this? because I know where I’m looking… what about you? 😏

I'm INNOCENT, Lana. And you send me this?!

Wicked Tongue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky has a wicked tongue. Word Count: Over 500 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), reader is thirsty, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a menace, okay?). A/N: I swear, I'm innocent! But something short and sweet for a Sinful Saturday. ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You tapped a finger against the drink you were holding, refusing to take a sip as you watched Bucky laugh at something Steve said. The love of your life was trying to kill you. Not literally, but it certainly felt the way. Why else would he pick a suit that molded to his beefy frame like a glove? What reason did he have to pull his silky long hair back like that?

He already had to fix it once since he decided to shove your dress up and sink to his knees before you left for the party.

“That’s it, baby. Pull my hair. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my tongue.”

As much as you loved Bucky eating you out, he loved it even more. You were certain there wasn’t another man on the planet who enjoyed the taste of pussy as much as he did. You ignored the twinge of jealousy because it wasn’t just any pussy he wanted. It was yours and yours alone.

Hell, if someone told him the sun rose in the east and set in the west, he’d argue that it went up when your legs opened and went down when they closed. Because the entrance to heaven existed between your thighs and it was only fair that he worshiped it with his mouth. You blessed him when you came on his tongue and he lapped up your offering with a groan every single time.

It felt almost as good as when you fell apart on his cock.

“Fuck,” you whispered when he swiped his tongue along his lip again.

Each time his tongue darted out of his mouth was like a personal attack, a jab to your core. You could still feel the indents from his fingers when he gripped your ass, shoving his face as close as he could so he could lick his way into your dripping cunt. The iron-clad grip nearly kept you from rocking your hips down, but it couldn’t stop the hot slick that rushed out of you when you came.

“Make a mess all over my face. Wanna taste you later.”

As if he sensed your stare, his sapphire eyes glanced your way from across the room and you forgot how to breathe. The beautiful bastard stared right at you as he dragged his tongue over his lower lip, slowly, deliberately. The way he sometimes did with your clit. You didn’t have super soldier strength, but you nearly shattered the glass in your hand from how hard you squeezed it when he winked.

And your panties were wet before, but now they were soaked.

You nodded toward the hall since you couldn’t find your voice. Bucky would help you find it. He’d make sure you moaned his name. Maybe even loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Excuse me, punk,” Bucky said to his best friend before he set his drink down. “In the mood for something a little sweeter.”

Something only you could satisfy his wicked tongue with.

We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[visionarymode]

Melting

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: jey uso x female reader

✧ word count: 1,327

thank you for the request! @trc-punzel 💓

₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩

“Everything good?” he asked looking up at you sighing and plopping down on the couch next to him. 

“Yes,” you unclipped your hair down and fluffed it up before stretching your arms above your head. Your daughter stayed with the nanny for the night so you two could get a break but you made sure to call almost every half an hour to check in. Your eyes landed on the TV screen illuminating the darkened living room before you sighed again. 

“You good baby?” he asked. 

“It’s hot,” you whined in a little whisper before taking off your oversized black zipped sweater and throwing it across the other side of the couch. You’ve been tired, exhausted, and just trying your best to adjust. You felt a sense of calmness and reassurance every time you were with him and you were so grateful for it. 

You pecked his lips before turning back to the screen to give your attention to the movie playing but his attention didn’t seem to leave yours. You felt his eyes on you, making you turn your head with a curious smile. 

“What?” you giggled at his brows raised, his gaze dropping down to your little outfit. 

“When did you get this?” he smirked, eyeing you up and down again. You were wearing a white laced cotton crop top and a short shorts pajama set you ordered a while back. 

“I got it a while ago. I never wore it because I was just too self-conscious about my body,” you muttered the last part. 

“Man, what? You know you sexy as hell,” he deeply praised as his hand reached for your right thigh, subtly bringing it across his waist.  

“Shut up,” you blushed with another giggle as his hand snaked higher to playfully spank you. It made your pussy flutter because man it’s been so long since you both got intimate. It’s been a little over a month but going from a daily, consistent, crazy, wild, and passionate sex life to none at all is a transition you both didn’t like. Especially him. You saw it in his eyes, he wanted you so bad. But he respected the time frame and you adjusting to mom life. 

“I love you,” he confessed as you smiled, running your hand up and down his chest. 

“I love you,” you whispered back. 

Your leg rested around his waist as he squeezed your right ass cheek a little harder. You caressed the side of his beard before pulling him in by the nape of his neck and your tongues reunited like they never lost a beat. It was nice, slow, loving…but the hotter it got between your thighs, the more your cravings heightened. You moaned as you sucked on his tongue, pulling on his chain, causing a groan to slip out of him. 

“Damn…baby chill,” he cupped your jaw with his right hand as his left swooped you off the couch and onto his lap. 

“Why?” you breathed in between kisses. He pulled back, licking his lips as he caressed your cheek. 

“You sure?” he softly asked and you almost quickly nodded, grabbing his hand to enlace his fingers with yours. 

“Mhm…” you reassured, smoothing your hands down his chest before he cheekily grinned and abruptly switched positions so you were lying on the couch. You felt flushed as he stood between your spread-open legs, running his big hands down your thighs and up your waist as his chain fell over your chest. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented as your pussy skipped a beat. His soft lips leaving trails of his saliva down your neck as he cupped your breasts. He slipped off your top and cursed under his breath in admiration before his tongue reunited with your skin. 

“Mmm…” you moaned as you shut your eyes, enjoying the feel of his warm and wet tongue flick and lick across your breasts. 

“I missed my girl…” he deeply whispered,  squeezing your breasts in his hands as his tongue slid up your neck and back on your lips. You moaned on his tongue as his bulge poked your belly. Your hand reached for it, massaging it through his boxers as your foot pushed him onto your body. 

“Whatchu’ want?” he asked, knowing exactly what you wanted as he tilted your jaw to meet his eyes. 

“I want you in me,” you whispered as you pulled him back onto your lips, moaning against each other’s tongues. He slipped off his boxers and your stomach did a flip as the tip of his dick brushed against your lower lips. 

“You always so wet for me,” he licked his lips, easing his length inside of you as you both groaned from the reunion. You gasped as he slipped all of him in you, taking his time filling up your soft, sensitive walls. 

“I gotchu’…I gotchu’,” he purred up against your dropped open mouth that let out pants. He slowly dipped his dick in and out of your wet and gushy already audible mess. 

“Mmmm…fuuuuuck,” you moaned. He stopped your loud cries as he passionately kissed you, his hand caressing your thigh ever so delicately pushing it in your direction allowing more space for him to deepen himself in you. 

“I missed this…I missed this pussy. My pussy,” he groaned as you both panted against each other’s mouths. 

“I missed you,” you whispered as your eyes shut from his deep, elongated strokes. 

“Like that baby? Huh?” he purred in your ear and your arms hooked under his shoulders as he embraced you. You whisperingly whined again as his thrusts picked up the pace, the audible, wet contact of his length slipping in and out of you growing louder. 

“Yes daddy…” you moaned as your fingers found his hair to lightly pull on. 

“Not too rough?” he panted as he moved strands of your hair out of your face. 

“No…just like that,” you panted back with a moan as you caressed his bearded face, pulling on his chain. 

“Fuck…baby don’t make me get your sexy ass pregnant again,” he deeply whispered in your ear making your orgasm suddenly creep up on you.

“Why? You wanna cum in me?” you teased with an aroused giggle that turned into another breathless moan as he scooped up both of your legs so your knees were now touching your shoulders. 

“Cum for me first,” he smirked with the lick of his lips as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as his steady, slow strokes got slower making sure to hit every inch deep in you. 

“Yeah…yeah baby. Let me see your pretty ass cum for me,” he moaned, his thumb shaking as it grazed your bottom lip. It felt so fucking good you started seeing stars. It felt like you were melting into the couch cushion with every deep, elongated dive of his dick in the pit of your stomach. 

“Yesyesyes baby,” you gasped in staggered breaths as you scratched his back, clutching your legs around his torso as his kisses on your neck paused to let out moans of his own as he felt you coat his dick with your nectar. 

“Mm-mm…” you grabbed his face to focus on you as you felt him about to pull out. “Cum inside me,” you whispered against his lips. He sexily nodded with one last moan, gently gripping your throat as he came inside of you with one last thrust. You must have accidentally turned off the tv with wherever the remote was underneath you both because it was pitch black, nothing was heard except your pants on each other’s mouths, your sweaty bodies stuck on one another. 

“Damn,” he playfully remarked as you giggled at his dramatics. 

“I know right,” you teased back as you caressed his beard, sharing one last sloppy kiss as he caressed your leg. 

“We still got it,” he smirked as you playfully smacked him, covering your mouth from the giggles. 

✧✧✧✧✧

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[murdrdocs]

ENJOY THE SILENCE. sejanus plinth

description. being tasked with placating sejanus plinth by doctor gaul seems like an impossible feat. turns out all it takes to be successful was revealing your true feelings.

includes. SMUT 18+, dialogue heavy, slightly manipulative!reader, capitol!reader, oral (m receiving), snowballing, sejanus typical angst. title from enjoy the silence by depeche mode

wc: 6.4k+

By the time your fist meets the thick wood of Sejanus Plinth’s bedroom door, you’ve started to lose your way. 

Somewhere along the line of you walking from the Academy to the Plinth residence, entering the home by invitation of Ma Plinth, eating her sweets while listening to the woman speak about how worried she was about her son, and finally walking down the hall to his bedroom, you’ve almost forgotten why you’re here in the first place. 

But forgetting would be too good to be true. How could you forget about how you were summoned into an empty classroom by Doctor Gaul, staring into her unnerving eyes as she praised you for what you could be, and barely what you are now? 

At the time, you instantly wanted to protest the task of going to the Plinth residence to seek out a certain outspoken boy who didn’t realize his privilege. But one glare from over her nose put you in your place, and you begrudgingly left the Academy to come here.

It’s not that you disliked Sejanus. You felt the opposite, mostly. You were definitely not one of the other Academy students who preferred to make his life hell since you all were eight. But there wasn’t much you had in common with the boy, no mutual connections that pulled you in each other’s orbit save for a few shared classes and a handful of projects. 

It was natural for you to question Gaul on why you had to be the one to do it. And as if it was natural, too, she shrugged, examined the walls of the Academy, and told you, “You have the potential to do something great. Prove yourself to me and surely I can find a guaranteed spot for you at the University.” 

It barely made any sense to you—how getting Sejanus Plinth to stop speaking his mind could prove your potential to be a great student at the University. But you were desperate, your future so close and within reach. You didn’t want to jeopardize it before it began. 

So as soon as classes ended, you grabbed your things, called off the driver, and walked to the Plinth residence where you hoped to prevent Sejanus Plinth from becoming a problem. 

Your three knocks against the door taper off to silence, which makes the shuffling on the other side even more prominent. Sejanus doesn’t ask who it is, likely assuming the visitor to be his mother or father, and not one of his classmates who was only an acquaintance. He yells out an invitation to enter and you push the handle down, allowing the door to swing open before taking a step inside. 

You don’t get much of a look at Sejanus’ bedroom. Only enough to notice that it’s a typical Capitol room with minimal personalizations. Deep gray walls, white crown molding around the ceilings, light brown hardwood flooring. A picture of the mountains not far from the Capitol sits above a large desk across the room, and a window on each side of the wood lets in the natural light from outside. On the left wall sits a large four poster bed with a cushioned back. 

And resting atop it is Sejanus. He stares off at the wall across from him, looking at nothing as it’s bare. But when you don’t speak, his eyes look over at the door. At you. 

Your lips pull into a tight smile, you fold your hands behind your back. 

“Oh.” Sejanus sits up a little straighter. “I didn’t know you were here.” You know he means no harm by it, but his words come out a little detached. A little rude. He seems to sense it immediately as he licks his lips and invites you in. 

You aren’t sure whether you should leave the door open or shut it behind you. Ultimately, you decide to return it to the state it was in before you arrived, not letting up until you hear and feel the latch click into place.

Sejanus uncrosses his feet at the ankles as you approach him. He’s still wearing his uniform just as you are, but the blazer and the outer skirt are removed. You notice them sitting at the foot of his bed. His relaxed nature makes you feel better about peeling your blazer off. 

You fold it in half and set it beside his which is thrown on the duvet without any precision, red material hanging off of the edge with one side showing the outside and the other showing the interior. 

“What’re you doing here?” This time, his tone is of pure curiosity, lacking any possible negative connotations. It makes you feel better and you sit at the edge of his bed not far from him. The size of the furniture makes you feel further than you are. 

“Um…” You take a second. Why are you here? Because Doctor Gaul sent you? Telling him that would do nothing but align yourself with the others. It would make your visit seem hostile. Like you’re here to threaten him, and not to warn him. 

You clear your throat. “I’m here to check on you.” You hadn’t noticed the suspicion in Sejanus’ eyes until it’s gone and replaced with neutrality. 

“Oh.” 

You nod once. 

“You seemed really upset in class earlier today. When Gaul came to visit.” Sejanus tenses up at the mention of the head gamemaker. His eyes shift to the otherside of the room, his jaw tightens, and you’re really thankful that you hadn’t directly associated yourself with the woman. 

“And I just wanted to see how you were doing.” 

Sejanus doesn’t look at you again for a second. Then, he shrugs, wringing his hands together in his lap as his brown eyes find you once more. 

“I’m okay. As okay as I could be.” With the way he says it, it makes you scoot a little closer to him. Enough for a friendly distance, but Sejanus still glances down at your thighs briefly. 

“Your tribute. You knew him, right? Back in District Two?” It takes you a second, but you add: “Back home.” 

That seems to soften Sejanus a little more. He flattens his hands onto the rogue of his trousers. 

(His thighs look exceptional in the material. You don’t think anyone else quite fills the pants out like he does. Except maybe Festus Creed but his sour attitude squashes any possible attraction you could have towards him. Attraction … are you attracted to Sejanus?)

Sejanus speaking pulls you from your muddled inner dialogue. 

“Yeah. We were classmates before we moved here.” 

You’re not faking it when you tell him. “That’s awful, Sejanus.” 

Your sincerity has a better effect than something planned could have. Sejanus’ shoulders lose their tension. He knocks his head back against the cushioned material of his headboard, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t speak and neither do you. But eventually, you can’t sit in the silence for much longer. 

“You can tell me about it … if you want.” 

Sejanus peels one eye open and he stares at you for a second, maybe trying to decide if you’re serious. And you’re doing the same. Are you telling him this because you want him to feel safe with you? Even then, are your intentions pure? 

There’s no point in dwelling on it more because Sejanus scoots over in a wordless invitation, a gesture that is more of a formality than anything else since you could have easily fit beside him without movement. Either way, you slide up to Sejanus’ side and when you do, you sit a little too close to him. But you decide it would have been rude to scoot further away so you stay put. 

That’s the only reason. 

Not because sitting this close to Sejanus makes you feel giddy inside and you like how he smells (clean is the best way to put it, with the gentle aroma of baked goods wafting off of his clothes and it’s no wonder where that aspect comes from). 

Sejanus begins with telling you of his time back in District Two. He tells you about the Plinth family status, above the baseline of citizens in Two, but he was still well liked throughout his home. He tells you about moving, how alone he felt when he was younger. How alone he still feels,  and you lay it on thick when you tell him he isn’t alone. Not when he has you. 

Sejanus has reasons to dispute you. It’s not like you’ve gone out of your way to defend him against your cruel classmates. You barely do anything, occasionally slipping in a comment against one of them that was truly for your own benefit if anything. Up until now, the only thing you’ve done to show Sejanus Plinth that he isn’t completely hated in the Capitol has been treating him with the same kindness you gave to others.

But he doesn’t say anything. Anything at all. 

You start to consider that you’ve fucked everything up. You’ve failed Doctor Gaul and she would condemn you and kick you out of the mentorship program before you’ve even had a real shot at proving yourself. 

The thing that stops your spiraling thoughts is Sejanus’ hand atop of yours. You still, unsure on what to do. But then you turn your hand over, letting your palms kiss before they intertwine, and you feel the warmth of his hand. It’s comforting. 

You turn your head to look directly at Sejanus instead of out into his room, surprised to see him already looking at you. 

“Thank you.” You watch his lips as he speaks, completely missing the sincerity swimming in his eyes until you flick your gaze up to them. 

You can’t help but think about how soft his lips looked as you lick your own, completely forgetting about the previously meticulously applied lipgloss. 

“For what?” 

Sejanus begins dragging his thumb across the skin of your hand. It’s incredibly distracting. 

“For everything.” 

“I haven’t done anything.” 

He smiles, soft and teasing and gentle and you’re starting to admit that Sejanus Plinth is really cute. 

“That’s exactly what I mean.” 

You think about all of those times you could’ve done something. When you could have joined in on poking fun at the Plinth family. When you could’ve condemned their efforts to fit in, and also their efforts to keep their district practices alive, all in one breath.

Had you not joined in because you were better than that? Better than them. Or had you kept to yourself because you felt sorry for him? 

The boy, born district and forced to move to the Capitol. Now unwanted by both groups. Trying his best to blend in and stick to himself, even though his moral beliefs obviously prevented him from completely assimilating. 

Maybe you didn’t feel sorry for him. Not when he had a life like this. A lavish home full of luxury goods. A father with power that could rival the oldest standing families in the Capitol, yours included. And slightly less important, a mother who kept even the rarest of guests satisfied with her goods. 

Your standings on your feelings for Sejanus Plinth become more confusing whenever you find yourself gravitating forward towards his lips. You don’t notice you’re doing it until you can feel his breath against yours. Your lips are so close, just one hair of a movement and they would be touching, but you stop. 

“Is this …” The question hangs unfinished in the air. You have intentions to finish it. At least you think you do, but Sejanus’ free hand cups your cheek and he closes the gap. 

Kissing Sejanus Plinth is gentle, to put it simply. His lips move tentatively against yours as if he doesn’t have much experience doing this and you’re not surprised. Personal endeavors spread across the Academy faster than rabies spread throughout the Capitol during the Dark Days, and if Sejanus Plinth was hooking up with someone you would have known by the next morning. 

His perceived lack of experience makes you more confident. It makes you press your lips harder against Sejanus, taking the lead as you start to encouragingly move your lips against his. Your lipgloss rubs off, you can feel it as Sejanus’ lips gain more slip to them with each movement. It aids in the kiss becoming messier, that and your combined enthusiasm. 

You scoot even closer to him, your legs blindly bumping into each other. Yet, you’re not close enough. You quickly want more of him. You need more of him. 

He tastes like his mothers treats, the sweet tang of pie on his tongue melding with the same taste on yours. You savored the pastry from Mrs. Plinth earlier in the day, taking your time to enjoy every single bite and taste the flavors in all of their glory. With Sejanus, you take and take without consideration of savoring. He tastes so good, having your body pressed up against his like this feels so good, and you can’t get enough. 

You must gorge yourself until you’ve had your fill. But you fear that your limit may never come, that you’ll be thoroughly addicted to Sejanus Plinth and nothing will ever fill the void. 

This worries you for a second, but then Sejanus is un-intertwining his hand away from yours and instead using his palm to press into your lower back. 

Just this one touch is enough to dizzy you and once more, you forget why you’re here. Why you’re in the Plinth residence, sitting in Sejanus’ bed, still wearing your Academy uniform. 

It’s not until Sejanus pulls away for a full breath of air that you remember. Staring into deep brown pits that you could easily lose yourself in, you’re reminded of the singular brown eye belonging to Doctor Gaul. They don’t have any similarities besides the base color. Sejanus’ eyes are uniform, for starters, and full of warmth.

Still, you remember, and concern strikes through your body for a second. When you move away from Sejanus, you can see the sadness in his eyes. 

You ignore how it upsets you. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” 

Sejanus still has his hands on you, and you’re not sure if you’re thankful for that or not. 

“Why not? Do you regret it?” He speaks as if he’s afraid of the answer. So you bless him with the truth. 

“No. I don’t.” You stare down at your nails, everything swirling inside of you confusing you. You have no direction of where to go from here. This part wasn’t planned. So you stick with the part that was. 

“It’s just … I don’t want you to think that’s why I came here.” The hand he has on your cheek leaves but the one at your back stays. 

“I thought you came here to check on me.” 

You look up at Sejanus and he seems a little standoffish. His eyes are a little bit harsh, maybe concealing hurt. But his hand is still at your lower back and you take that as a good sign. 

“I did! But I also came here to warn you.” His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything so you continue. “The Capitol is dangerous, Sejanus. They’ll do anything to protect themselves.” Why’re you telling him this? Despite its true nature, your words made you seem like you don’t support your government. The one created to protect you. And why’re you speaking to him as if you’re not Capitol. You’re proud of your heritage, but something about sitting in Sejanus’ room, your body this close to his, makes you want to briefly leave it all behind. 

Maybe it’s because you want Sejanus to believe you. Yes, you need to speak like someone from the districts so the district-born boy will believe you. That’s all. 

“And I know you’re just speaking your mind, which is great. But Sejanus … if you continue and you say something particularly harmful to the government, they could hurt you.” 

There’s a beat. A moment of silence where Sejanus considers your words. His eyes search your face, they drop to his lap, and then they find you again. “I appreciate the concern,” he says your name, letting it hang out in the air for a moment before continuing. “But I’ll be fine.” 

He might be fine, but if he goes back to mentoring tomorrow and says something treasonous, you won’t be. Easily, Gaul could determine you unfit, unable to do as simple of a task such as pacifying your classmate. 

It’s a risk you can’t take. 

You sigh, shuffling closer to Sejanus and cupping his face in both of your hands. You sit on your heels at this point, knees digging into the mattress right beside Sejanus’ thigh, creating a hole in the soft bedding. 

Sejanus’ head is tilted up, allowing the light to meet his cheeks and eyes. He looks innocent like this, just a young boy who doesn’t realize what he’s saying. You hope if he were to continue challenging the ideals of the Capitol, then others would see him as you do now. Maybe without the lust starting to cloud your mind. 

“Just please, Sejanus, please make an effort.” Then, exaggerating the situation a little more, you bat your eyelashes and pout a little as you beg, “for me?” 

That does it. Sejanus’ eyes glaze over a little, as if tears are gathering in them. But he blinks and they clear up. 

He nods, turning his head to the side so he can press a kiss into the palm of your hand. His hands wrap around your wrists, he slides them up your arms and around your back where he encloses your waist with his arms. 

“Okay.” 

And this time, you’re aware of yourself surging forward to press your lips against Sejanus’. 

At first, you tell yourself you’re doing it to complete your empty confession. Nothing but tying a pretty and large bow on top of your hard work. But then, when Sejanus pulls you closer into a hug, and you trail your hands to the back of his head as he starts kissing you with an open mouth, you realize that you’re kissing Sejanus because you want to. 

Because he’s attractive and sweet and unlike anyone else around you. He’s a breath of fresh air, despite his troubles that sometimes constrict your airflow with the stress his actions cause you and others. 

It all seems worth it when Sejanus pulls up the back of your button up shirt and presses his hand flat against your back. His palm is warm, and just the single touch of skin on skin ignites something deep in you. 

You spread your legs more from where you’re straddling him until you’re sitting on his lap instead of holding yourself up on your knees. There’s many layers between you both, your pleated overskirt a notable one that causes trouble, but you can still feel Sejanus through it all. His thighs thick and comfortable, a slight tent in his trousers that’s surely just his dick existing in a flaccid state. You grind against him once, one firm and fluid push and pull motion of your hips, and Sejanus cants his hips up into yours. You’re sure it won’t take much to get him hard. 

To put your theory to test, you grind down onto Sejanus again, and he’s quickly groaning, pulling away from your lips to knock his forehead against yours as his hand digs into your hip. You don’t bother hiding your smile, Sejanus’ eyes are closed anyway. 

You use the time to run your hands along the sides of his head, fingers tickling along the short hairs at the sides. Sejanus is silent, taking steady breaths, and it’s then that the weight of the situation dawns on you. 

Surely Doctor Gaul didn’t have this in mind when she sent you to the Plinth house. Yet, her words ring throughout your otherwise empty head. 

“Your classmate, Mr. Plinth. He’s going to be a problem. Stop him while he’s ahead.” 

And when you dared to question her on why you had to be the one to do it, and not another student like Coriolanus Snow for example, she glared at you. Her back seemingly got straighter, the chip on her shoulder grew to double its original size. 

“Don’t you want a spot at the University? Prove yourself to me here, and surely your application can be boosted to the right people, a few good words whispered in their ears. That is if you succeed. Placate him. Put a pink pacifier in his mouth and a bonnet on his head for all I care just shut him up.” 

Her words were stern, absolutely no room for argument, which is why you packed your things up and accepted your fate. But here, like this, is this how you’re going to placate Sejanus Plinth?

Is this a means to get him to trust you? To keep his mouth shut on matters of the Capitol? Or do you really want this?

Sejanus’ hands slide down your sides and settle right above your ass. You can’t help but wish they would go just a little further down. 

His touch is sturdy and strong. You feel comfortable in his hands. 

“We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to,” you tell him, your words soft spoken and almost vulnerable. You curse yourself for them, but Sejanus doesn’t seem to latch onto the tone. He doesn’t use your moment of vulnerability  to his advantage, like predator to prey. 

Instead, he opens his eyes and looks up at you. 

“I would like to continue. If you feel the same.”

You use your hands at the side of his head to push his visage back, latching your lips onto his gratefully.  

From there, things move fairly fast. 

You make quick work of your button up, pushing the buttons out of the slits so you can peel the shirt off all together. It’s thrown behind you, likely to end at the foot of the bed along with your outwear. 

You don’t want to stop kissing Sejanus, but you let him pull away when you realize he wants to look at you. You're wearing a shirt, just a thin fitted camisole, but Sejanus still drinks in the sight anyway. 

His eyes, a little lidded yet no less interested in your presence, graze over your décolletage. When you realize he’s content with just staring, you latch your hands onto the hem of the camisole and peel it over your head, exposing your plain black bra, the final layer of your top half. 

Sejanus takes a deep breath, you both hear it and see it, and only when he has returned to his normal breathing pattern does he speak. 

“May I?” 

You nod, sitting up a little straighter as Sejanus’ hands trail up from your ass to the back of your bra. You expect him to struggle for a second, maybe fumble around and pull the back in the wrong direction once or twice. 

But in one motion Sejanus has your bra unclasped and he’s pulling it off of your shoulders. 

He palaces the garment gently beside you both, far enough away to not disturb you in the meantime. 

You briefly step off of Sejanus to pull your trousers off, and Sejanus does the same once his shirt is off. Yet he removes his pants with slight difficulty. He’s too eager, he forgets to undo the button at first, and then the pants get caught at his feet. But eventually, there is a matching set of Academy rogue uniforms at the foot of Sejanus’ bed, and you’re sitting atop of him once more, playing with his hair while he blatantly stares at your tits. 

“You can look and touch, Sejanus,” you tell him, voice light and a little giggly. Sejanus laughs a little at himself, raising a hand and resting it on your breast. He’s stiff at first, and you’re about to open your mouth and tell him what to do, but then he’s rubbing his thumb over your nipple before rolling it in between his fingers and you’re stunned. You sigh gratefully, hands resting on his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. 

You let him continue fondling your breast, already desperately desiring more, and that feeling only multiplies whenever Sejanus latches his lips onto your pert nipple. He could do anything to you right now and you would melt. You would have never guessed that Sejanus Plinth of all people could have this effect on you. 

He has you frantically grinding your cunt against his boxers. He has you whining at basically no stimulation, both satisfied with what you’re being given and also calling for more. He has you eagerly pushing your panties to the side to allow your cunt to catch the cotton fabric without anything in the way. 

Sejanus unlatches from your nipple at this, staring down at you with weathered breaths. You think you can hear him swear, but you can’t really hear anything through the thick haze already settling in your mind. The one that drives you to get what you want, no matter what’s required of you to get it. 

When he licks around your nipple one more time, you see it, Sejanus’ eyes big and full of wonder, no hatred or sadness in them. Maybe he is being placated. 

You want Sejanus. It’s something you admit to yourself briefly, not letting the thought sit in your brain long enough for you to feel any emotion attached to it. At least, not any real emotions as the only thing you can feel is a desire to bond with Sejanus in a way you’ll never be able to take back. 

As you’re guiding his hand down to your center, you consider it, how things would be after this occurrence with Sejanus. Did it mean more to him than it did to you? Did it mean anything to you?

Sejanus’ pointer and ring finger glide along your panties and any other thoughts you have rushing through your brain leaves, replacing with a chant of more, more, more. 

You stare down at him with what you’re sure is hunger in your eyes. Your forehead knocks against Sejanus’ as he circles your clit, and you can’t help but wonder how he’d found it so easily, only fumbling once before he made contact. 

Maybe Sejanus is more experienced than you thought. 

He’s preparing you, circling your clit long enough for your cunt to start leaking, creating a steadily growing patch in your panties. But, you’re impatient. 

Your fingers roll down the waistband of Sejanus’ boxers enough to free his cock, unable to hold back the embarrassingly comical face you make. You can feel it in the way your features contort, and you can see it with the way Sejanus looks up at you, amusement in his brown eyes and a big grin taking over his usually stoic face. 

All he says is “yeah”, his free hand cupping your cheek while his other hand starts to pump two fingers in and out of you. He’s a little cocky about it, at least that’s how you read it. You’re missing the slight insecurity that lays across his face. 

You would tell Sejanus that you’re unsure about taking all of him, but your refusal to admit defeat prevents you from uttering the confession. Instead, you shuffle down his body without breaking eye contact, momentarily mourning the loss of his thick fingers inside of you before you focus on your new task. 

“Can I suck you off?” 

He stares at you, hesitating, blinking a few times, and you figure it’s just taking a second for him to process. You spend the time gliding your nails down his abdomen, scraping the perfected ends in the hair under his navel that leads to his cock. You go further down, raking the red manicure through the (thankfully) trimmed hair at the base of his cock. 

It’s when your hand hesitates right above Sejanus’ cock that he responds. 

His answer is quick, curt, and simple, even though he stutters through it the first time. 

You smile and settle yourself between his thighs completely, circling your hand around the end of him. You try not to let his girth intimidate you, instead you spend a few moments shamelessly ogling at his—admittedly pretty—cock before getting in the position you’ve become fairly accustomed to in your final semester at the Academy. 

He’s big, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with thus far, and uncut. Impressive in a nice combination of length and girth, although he’s slightly wider than he is long. You don’t know if the width making up for the length will have any difference when he will  inevitably stretch out your mouth. 

You relax your jaw and stick your tongue out a little to prepare to rest his weight along the muscle. Just the first touch of his tip against your tongue makes Sejanus gasp a little. It’s small, and if the room wasn’t as silent as it is maybe you wouldn’t have heard. 

But you did. 

You let your eyes flicker up towards him as you lick around his tip, laying your tongue flat and gliding it over his slit. 

Sejanus’ hands grip the sheets beside his hips, which flex a little as if he’s about to fully sheath all of him inside of you at once. You don’t bother hiding the smirk that spreads across your lips when he notices he doesn’t. 

“So obedient,” you murmur, perhaps for him to hear, too. Either way, Sejanus hums and nods. 

His eyes flutter shut, dark lashes somehow prominent even against his tan skin and in the steadily lowering light in the bedroom. With his chest rising and falling, and his curls falling over his forehead, he looks pretty. 

Sejanus Plinth has always been pretty. You find no shame in admitting it. 

You briefly tear your eyes away from one pretty sight to another. There’s a trail of almost clear fluid running form from Sejanus’ tip, glistening along the side of him. You follow it with your eyes for one second, and then let your tongue follow the same path. 

You don’t focus much on the flavor, it’s not your main focus at all currently. Instead, you focus on the pleasure that takes over Sejanus’ being. 

This time, he lets his hands find your head, a large palm cupping the side with the tips of his fingers digging into your hair. You expect him to push you further down like men in the past have, but he doesn’t. His hand doesn’t do anything at all. 

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, being treated this fragile. You don’t know if you like it or not but you also decide not to focus on it at all. 

There’s nothing to focus on other than Sejanus. 

Having cleaned him up a little, you wrap your lips around his tip with intentions to make more of a mess. You sink down on him slowly, trying to pace yourself, but it’s hard whenever Sejanus is making such pretty noises above you. 

Small whines that get trapped in his throat, transforming into something that sounds more similar to a groan. When you look at him, you see his eyes heavy lidded, almost closed, as he stares down at you. His heavy eyebrows create a shadow that makes his gaze look intimidating. Briefly, you see Sejanus for what he could be perhaps with time, a man who’s tough and takes what he wants. It’s wishful thinking that Sejanus Plinth could become like this, but you can easily see yourself with a man like that, completely comfortable with the familiar go-getter attitude of the Capitol. 

Really, Sejanus Plinth is the opposite, a man who works towards what he wants out of desire to do good. 

His hand strokes your cheek and he nods. 

“You’re so good at this. Please, keep going.” 

You didn’t even know you needed it, but the encouragement from Sejanus makes you breathe through your nose a little more pointedly as you take the final bit of him that you can fit. 

It’s not all—you don’t know if you could fit all of Sejanus without training—but for your first time it’s enough. 

You let your mouth hang open to allow any remnants of saliva to drizzle down the rest of Sejanus, gathering it in your fist and using the lubrication to comfortably stroke the rest of Sejanus’ length. 

It takes you a little while to get in a rhythm. You forcibly control your gag reflex and breathe through your nose but even then, with each movement down and up, you feel like you’re choking on Sejanus’ cock. 

You pull off of him after only a few moments, taking the time to swallow and breathe without controlling it. He lets you take your time, not a single complaint leaving his lips as he patiently waits for your lips to find him once more. 

You continue to suck Sejanus off, now needing some attention yourself. You fix the way you’re sitting to spread your legs enough to position the heel of your foot against your cunt. It’s slightly uncomfortable, your foot a little too hard for your delicate center, but it thoroughly gets the job done as your eyes flutter shut when you feel the friction. 

You hollow your cheeks, swirling your tongue around the tip of Sejanus before sinking back down on him. He groans, low and deep in his chest. His head falls back and thuds against the padded headboard. His legs lift at the knee for a second, before they meet the mattress once more. And finally, the hand on your head gains pressure. He pushes you down a little, not nearly enough weight for you to have to fight against, more like a calm encouragement. 

One you take confidently, sinking yourself all the way down and removing your hand from the base of Sejanus’ cock. You can’t stay like this for long, your throat is already threatening to seize up, but you slink your hand down to Sejanus’ balls, fondle and massage them in your hand for long enough, and then he’s digging his hand into your scalp and gripping for dear life. 

He grunts through gritted teeth, his hands get tighter in your hair, and you realize that he’s trying to pull you off of him. 

“I’m close,” he says your name urgently, “you gotta get off. ‘M gonna…” 

His hips twitch up towards you, you swear you feel his cock twitch, too, and then Sejanus spurts warm cum straight down your throat. 

You slide off of Sejanus, letting his cum trickle down along the way, freeing most of it from your mouth. Sejanus watches. He licks his lips just before you do the same to yours, and you’re quick to lean up before you swallow the rest of him. 

His hand still hasn’t left your hair, so he just slides it down to the side of your neck as your lips meet in the middle. 

The kiss is hot, to put it simply. Sejanus’ other hand is on your lower back, then your breast, then your ass, before finding a home between your thighs. He presses his tongue against yours, not caring about the remnants of his cum on your muscle. In fact, he licks around your mouth, running his tongue at the back of your teeth for good measure. 

By the time you pull away, you figure that after he’s shot a load right onto your tongue and then licked it off, Sejanus would be done. You expected him to kiss your cheeks and maybe offer a glass of water like the gentleman he is.  

But instead, Sejanus stares up at you with wide eyes, lacking any sign of exhaustion. “Can I…” he starts then stops, glancing down at where you’re still straddling his softening cock. His fingers start to run up and down your cunt. 

He starts again. “Can I make you feel good, too?” 

His questions shocks you a little. Yeah, you didn’t cum, but you didn’t expect Sejanus to focus on that. Besides, that’s not why you’re here. Or, it’s not why you’ve done what you did. You gave Sejanus head because you expected him to be in a sex haze after that, maybe believing he was linked to you in a way that would demand he abided by your pleas. 

(At least, that’s what you reason with yourself)

At this point, if you let him get you off, it would be just a bit of fun. You’re tempted to say yes, your lips forming the simple word, but just then you tell him: 

“You don’t have to.” 

Sejanus’ eyebrows furrow. “But I want to.” 

God, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to say no. 

“Not today, Sej,” you hope the nickname (that you’ve never said before nor have you ever heard anyone call him that) would make him give in. “It’s getting late and I have to get home and … your parents, they should be home soon, too, right?” 

His face deflates and once more, you briefly feel bad. Guilt weighs on your shoulders. Fear that you’d just missed out on something that will never come your way again settles behind your eyes. He removes his hand.

He nods, rubbing his lips together before nodding again. “Yes. Yeah. Okay. I understand.” 

It’s not long after that you’re standing at the Plinth front door, one hand on the knob and the other holding your bag. 

Sejanus stands in front of you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Despite your previous rejections, his face still has a different glow to it now, taking over the previous shadow that resided on his features whenever you arrived earlier. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

The way he says it is full of expectancy, like you’re a thing now. It’s odd that your smile is genuine.  

“Yeah.” 

You take a step closer to him. “And think about what we talked about okay?” Before I sucked your dick, you resist adding. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

Sejanus smiles softly, takes a step forward, staring down at you with something like amusement in his eyes. As if he’s pleased by you caring about him. 

“Okay. I will.” As he reassures you, he leans in until your lips are pressed together a final time. You don’t want to leave the kiss, letting your hands rest on his shoulders as his rest on your lower back. 

He pulls back, his features all around a little softer. 

“Promise?” you ask. 

“Promise,” he confirms. 

For some reason, you don’t believe him.

[minkdelovely]

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter one

“don’t call me by my name.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: descriptions of reader’s demon form, Alastor uses the chain and withholding your breakfast as punishment, Alastor takes pleasure in your fear, power dynamics, reader worries over being punished, lecherous demons in an alley, non-consensual grab and lick of the face, graphic violence, murder, blood, teeth as a weapon, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 2.5k

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Why didn’t you bring me a boy to play with?” Niffty pouted, her little foot stomping the carpet. 

She hadn’t been pleased when Alastor broke the news that he had acquired a new maid to help her out around the hotel, and glared at you past his legs. He laughed, seeming to enjoy her tantrum. You still weren’t sure how to feel about this Demon who had taken over your contract. While he had been pleasant enough at the Emporium after Rosie signed you over, he hadn’t spoken a word to you while leading you through the streets of Hell to bring you here. 

“I’m afraid you’ve answered your own question, Niffty dear. Had I brought you a toy, I’m not so sure you’d sustain your productivity. Which is precisely why I brought help.” He turned to look back at you for the first time then, your chest tightening from the eye contact. Alastor maintained contact as he continued, “Sylvie will maintain my quarters for now so as not to take away from your duties, but once the hotel gets busier I expect you to play nice and share. Besides, she’ll need training before we just let her loose around the hotel! We have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

He smirked at you and broke his gaze, pivoting to make his way up the stairs. Before the others could get a chance to come talk to you, an invisible tug was at your neck and you hurried to catch up with Alastor.

“I’ll show Sylvie to her room so she can settle in,” Alastor said loud enough for everyone, still facing forward as he continued up the staircase.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

That had been a week ago.

Everyone else had been fairly welcoming, Charlie being the kindest. She and her girlfriend Vaggie had made the most effort getting to know you, which made sense being they were in charge of the hotel. Though he wasn’t rude, Husker only spoke to you in short quips. You tried not to dwell on the pity in his eyes any time you crossed by the bar in the lobby.

Angel Dust had been nice too, the few times you had managed to see him and always at the bar, joking amicably that you could almost pass as twins despite quite obvious differences. He was a decent amount taller and slimmer than you for starters. Hell seemed to have turned him into a spider of sorts, and if you had to take a guess, you had spawned here as some kind of milky-colored reptile. No scales, but there was a faint pearlescent pattern of something close to that covering your neck, back, and extremities. 

It was still jarring to see your reflection in the mirror. There were parts you still recognized, though even those features had felt Hell’s touch. To your relief, your face still looked more or less the same. Nearly Human passing, until your newly-added nictitating membrane blinked right-to-left. Though your red pupils and pink sclera were also a dead giveaway (haha, get it?). Something you weren’t sure you’d ever adjust to, but hey, you earned it right?

You had just finished getting into the black collared dress Alastor demanded you wore for work when a dark shadow pooled under your feet. Complete darkness and seconds later, you were standing in the parlor of Alastor’s suite. 

“[Y/N],” Alastor’s low, static voice lingered on it, red eyes boring into you. Something he had gleaned very quickly in the week was how unsettled you got when he used your real name, and enjoyed the opportunities to use it. “I find tardiness to be an irksome trait. Do not make it a habit. Am I understood?”

You fought a grimace, loathing his condescension. The Radio Demon’s smile threatened to tear as he watched you struggle to maintain composure. You hadn’t succeeded completely, but you were making some progress.

“Well?” he goaded.

“Yes, sir,” you managed to say evenly, hands fidgeting behind your back.

You knew better now than to play into his tricks. He was trying to get you to react, a sport he took great pleasure in succeeding at. So when he wasn’t ordering you around, he was complaining about the look on your face. Sullen, petulant, ghastly, he had used all kinds of names. And when you had gotten cheeky with him about it on your second day after hours of scrubbing the area rug in his room that he had dirtied on purpose…

The slight ache in the back of your neck served as a reminder of that. Sadistically, the chain was the only true cold you’ve felt since spawning in Hell and it seemed to burn more than acid rain. It wasn’t hard to remember the weight of it, the sweaty feeling of it on your skin. Alastor had enjoyed it all immensely. 

Denying him his fun in pissing you off probably wasn’t good in the long term, but you had to toe the line in order to find the limit. You wanted to learn as much as you could about the creature who owned you. Eternity was never-ending, but learning how to cope was all you could try to do. Being moved to this hotel had turned out to be a true blessing all things considered, so if navigating Alastor’s moods and demands was the price, you would have to pay it.

“Good!” The expression on Alastor’s face quickly relaxed into a more pleasant one. “Now hurry up and run into town to fetch my dry cleaning, and bring me something from that new butcher shop. I’ll leave it to you to decide, I so love surprises! Skipping breakfast will serve as your warning for being tardy. See you in an hour, dear.”

With that, he disappeared before you in a quick melt of shadow.

He was so. Fucking. Annoying. But you wouldn’t risk throwing a tantrum. For all you knew, he was still somewhere in the room, and honestly, you didn’t have time to waste. The walk from here to Cannibal Town was about twenty minutes and Alastor had summoned you before you had been able to put on your shoes, a five-minute setback at least. He had also made no mention of how you were expected to pay for any of this… 

Time to perform a fucking miracle, you thought to yourself, and made your way for the door.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor watched as you took a deep breath and smoothed your pale pink hair before leaving his room. The small click of the door locking echoed in the silence. He re-materialized near the large window that faced the city, grinning when he finally saw you walking off the premises at a hurried pace. You were so close to coming loose, so close to breaking that unbecoming pout. How he loathed it. He would rid you of the self-pity you wallowed in, even if it drove you to madness. A chuckle escaped him at the thought.

When you spoke back to him last week it had been such a thrill. Alastor closed his eyes, reliving the memory. He had allowed himself a moment to enjoy your insolence before inverting it to fear. Now that was a face he could get used to. The cold sweat on your skin, your red-pink eyes wide with shock. The sound of your hands and knees hitting the floor was music to his ears! Though he would never forget the gasp that caught in your throat from the shock.

He didn’t even need to raise his voice when he told you never to speak to him that way again, a direction you had perhaps taken too much to heart. Then again, you didn’t come across as a fighter. No, you were much too apathetic for that, at least for now.

And you had smelled so lovely in your fear. The usual floral sweetness of your scent had turned warm and nutty. For a moment he was certain he had picked up a hint of bitterness before you had mouthed off, but it disappeared so quickly once you were frightened that he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he wanted to smell it again.

With some luck, that would be quite soon; a little over an hour now if all goes according to plan. The Radio Demon had never expected you to return within the given timeframe.

Setting you up to fail wasn’t fair, but it was certainly fun.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Donner’s Butchery had been absolutely packed, but you managed to purchase the last available pound of liver. Their selection had been so low that you were more concerned with walking out of there without anything at all. Whether or not Alastor would enjoy it was a matter reserved for your return, though you hoped he would since you had to open a tab to get it. 

Thankfully, the dry cleaning had been settled upfront so you were actually starting to feel a little optimistic about making it back in time. In fact, you were now determined to be back in time out of spite. Imagining the veiled irritation on Alastor’s face when you arrived within the hour kept you distracted from the hunger pain in your stomach, and your pace subconsciously picked up. The high was short-lived though once your mind wandered to what other tasks Alastor would surely have lined up once you handed him his clothes and liver.

And what if he hated liver? You were in such a hurry that you didn’t even know what kind it was if he asked about it, which he probably would if only to watch you squirm trying to answer. The hotel wasn’t too far off now and you stepped into an alley to search the bag for a receipt, hoping that the butcher had been thorough enough to write it down. You found the receipt taped to the butcher paper, the words DEER LIVER scribbled with thick, black marker. 

“Thank god,” you sighed quietly, relieved to have peace of mind and placed it back in the bag. You were just about to step back onto the sidewalk when you heard laughter behind you.

“God ain’t here, sweetheart. Haven’t you noticed?”

You turned to see two demons, already standing much closer to you than you’d like. In your desperation to check the bag, you hadn’t heard them approaching. Something that should have embarrassed you, given the sour smell wafting off their clothes, but there wasn’t time for that. You took a quick glance at the clocktower.

Five minutes.

Of course it was… Even if you ran, you’d probably only get to the gate at best and knowing Alastor, that wouldn’t count.

“You got somewhere to be? Hand over the bag and maybe we’ll let you go,” the taller one continued, his plump sidekick snickering, both moving to cage you in.

God damn it… You were so close. So fucking close. Not only that, but were you were hungry and exhausted. All you had done this week was try your best to manage Alastor’s impossible expectations for what? An easier eternity? The creeps standing near you were right, God wasn’t here. This is Hell. Suffering eternal. 

The sanctuary you thought you’d found at the hotel was anything but. Its promise of redemption was the dangling carrot, always just out of reach. A sick joke, just like everything else here. Not that you had ever planned to be redeemed, you knew why you were here, but living in the hotel had lulled you into a false sense of security. Hell wasn’t clean and filled with mild-mannered sinners.

“Look at that, she’s fucking crying!” the plump demon laughed, bringing you back to the moment. “You’ve always liked ‘em scared, Donny.”

The tall one, apparently called Donny, shot his arm out to block you from leaving, a lecherous grin spreading across his face. “Is he right, baby? You scared?”

You could feel your heart in your throat. Scared? You were pissed. And when Donny grabbed your face and boldly licked a tear off your cheek, you snapped.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The Radio Demon had been hard at work tuning Vaggie out for the last few minutes. He was aimlessly wandering the lobby when she cornered him, seeming to have finally found her opportunity to interrogate him over acquiring your soul. It would have been easy enough to tell the disgraced Angel that it was the least he could do considering the help Rosie had provided them, but upsetting Vaggie was simply too much fun.

She was droning on about how she and Charlie would be taking over the onboarding of any more new employees when Alastor felt a chain rattle, ear flicking in response. Some fool was messing with his property. He reached out mentally to follow the chain and soon caught the scent of almond. He grimaced. Of course it was yours.

“As much as I cherish our conversations, I’ll need to cut this short Vaggie. I’m afraid duty calls,” Alastor said smugly, grinning at the rage on her face from being so casually brushed off before slipping into shadow.

When Alastor materialized in an alley he was met with piercing screams, and it took him a moment to register what he was seeing. You were on the ground straddling the waist of some poor soul, your face covered in blood as you tore out your victim’s neck with your teeth. The creature in question no longer seemed to have much left of the lower half of his face, the remnants of it no doubt lying somewhere in the gore. His death rattle was nothing more than a gurgle and spurt of blood, but it seemed you were too lost in your rampage to notice he was now motionless beneath you.

Alastor didn’t bother with the pudgy creature that had no doubt been your victim’s friend. Well, perhaps not a very good friend, seeing as the coward ran away once he regained his footing. Besides, it wouldn’t be difficult to track the cretin down if Alastor changed his mind about it later.

For now, his focus was on you and what a glorious sight it was. He wished for a moment that your dress had been a different color, just to see how much blood and scraps of flesh had soaked into it. Judging from the mess on your face, it had to be quite a lot.

The sounds coming from you were savage, nearly carnal, and you were relentless in your attack despite the damage already done. When would you stop, he wondered. When there was nothing but bone? The aspect thrilled him to the core and he sniffed deeply, taking in the scent of blood and almond. There it was — that delicious, bitter, nutty warmth. He had been right. Letting out a satisfied, pleasured sigh, he waited patiently for you to finish. After a minute or so you succeeded in decapitating the fool, and Alastor made his approach as you struggled to catch your breath. 

Gingerly tapping you once with his foot, you startled with a growl and snapped your teeth. Alastor let out a low chuckle, taking in the wild look of your face, eyes glowing pink.

“I believe he’s had enough for now, dear. You made good work of him, I’m quite impressed,” he said, giving you a proud smile. “Now let’s get you home before you cause a scene.”

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[fake-bleach]

omg omg loved the derek fic so much, i’ll be anxiously waiting for part two ❤️🫶🏻

million dollar man | derek danforth x reader - part 2

thank you so much anon!!! so glad you liked it! :') hope you enjoy this part! <3

word count: 3.5k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!reader (no use of y/n), one reference to being high, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, girl, etc), making out/kissing, hickeys on reader, explicit consent, descriptive fingering & oral (f receiving), overstimulation (in a way), filthy dirty talk, praise w/ hardly any degradation, established control by derek, tiny bit angsty, cute fluff w/ a happy ending <3

for the biggest derek fucker i know, @sugarevans: i hope you love it just as much as i loved writing it for you 🤍

ao3 link | masterlist

read part 1 here! a lot of things might not make sense if you haven't :)

You never thought you’d ever be in this position.

Making out with Derek Danforth; hands gripping every inch of your body, high out of your mind, is something most wouldn’t ever imagine doing.

Yet, here you were, doing just that.

And hell, was it better than you ever imagined.

His lips were like fire on yours, burning you up and up the more he hungered for your kiss and touch. He was eager; desperate to taste you and everything you had to offer, something that he’s wanted for as long as he could remember.

Ever since he first saw you, he knew what he wanted, and now that he could finally have it? Nothing was stopping him.

“D-Derek,” You gasped once his lips pulled away from yours, giving you a second to breathe as your back pressed into the luxurious couch, his body on top of you, “You’re okay with this, right?”

You wanted to make sure, despite how eager you were yourself. You couldn’t help but overthink it, fighting between not wanting to give yourself to the selfish man in front of you, and wanting to give yourself up completely.

Now, all of those months convincing yourself that you didn’t want him were for nothing.

And, God, were you fucking okay with that.

He gave you a grin, letting out a small chuckle as he shook his head, almost as if you were crazy for even asking him that. “Been waiting for this forever, baby.. ‘Course I fucking am,” He breathed out, pressing kisses on your lips that slowly began to trail downwards; to your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending chills throughout your entire body.

You were sensitive when it came to his touch, and along with his kisses, his wandering hands couldn’t help but feel for every single part of you. One of his forearms held him up, keeping him steady as the other reached for your jaw, lifting your head up so he could have more access to your skin.

You shuddered at the feeling of his soft lips on your neck, forcing a light moan out of your mouth as he started to suck and lick, warning you of a feeling that was all too familiar.

You breathed heavily, letting out a small, “Wait,” as you attempted to relax. “I c-can’t.. go out like that if you.. do that,” You protested, hoping he understood what you meant.

And that, he did.

He pulled away for a split second, eyes looking up at you as he asserted himself confidently, the same Derek you’ve always known. “Yeah, you can, baby. Need to make sure everyone knows you’re mine now. That clear?”

You lick your lips, opening your mouth to protest again, but you don’t get very far. He tuts his tongue, expressing his disapproval as the action forces your mouth shut, “Nuh uh. You’re gonna let me do this, sweetheart. Been waiting too long now,” The hand on your jaw grips it just enough to make you focus on him, “Do I make myself clear?” He says, pausing with each word to enunciate it.

You nod immediately, every ounce of resistance you had in you disappearing as butterflies filled your stomach.

Normally, you’d put up a fight and maybe even walk out of a circumstance like this; But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like this side of him.

The Derek that just takes and takes. Nothing you can say no to, and willingly, you’d allow.

“Need to hear you,” He instructs, voice stern as his eyes lock into yours. Derek may be the type to always want control, but he wouldn’t ever do anything you weren’t completely okay with.

You exhale softly and nod again, complying, “Crystal clear.” Your eyes flicker from his lips, lingering there for a moment before finding his eyes again, “Make me yours.”

The strict expression on his lips immediately shifts into a smirk, those words giving him every ounce of motivation to finish what he started.

He pushes himself up for a second and presses one long kiss to your lips, filthy and passionate as ever, muttering, “That’s my girl,” before finding himself back on your neck, doing exactly what he’s intended to do for months.

With your heavy breaths and gasps of his name filling his ears, he accomplishes the task easily; leaving a trail of hickeys all around your neck and cleavage, hands gripping your tits through your shirt. The swelling of the marks that his lips captivate leave you wanting more.

More than just his lips.

You take the chance to stop him, gently pushing his head away as you whine softly, “Need more, Derek.”

He shushes you, nearly reading your mind as he begins to lower himself, keeping eye contact with you. He lifts your shirt up as he moves, exposing your stomach to press kisses along the skin, until he finally reaches the one spot he’s fantasized about for so long.

The action and the thought of what he might do to you leaves your body shuddering, anticipating his next move. You’d let him do anything he wanted now.

He slowly unbuttons your pants, taking his time as if his eyes were memorizing every second of it. You help him slip them off, lifting your hips so he can easily remove them, the cool air in the room hitting your exposed skin. You feel yourself grow wetter, desperate for him to do something, anything to you.

He takes no time to waste putting your pants aside, kneeling in between your thighs and spreading your legs. His gaze flickers from your face down to your panties, chest moving up and down as he processes the sight in front of him; your darkening eyes, legs wide open for him. 

Oh, what a beauty you are.

You await his next move, biting your bottom lip as you feel your core tighten, and he finally moves; taking his hand and sliding his fingers over your clothed cunt just for a second, feeling you for the first time. You shudder, gasping at his touch as your arousal seeps through your panties. You’re growing impatient, squirming with need.

“F-Fuck, Derek, touch me, please,” You whine, hips moving a bit to get any type of friction. He just presses down on your stomach, keeping you still as he tuts. “Shh, baby. Gonna take my fuckin’ time with you. Make you feel real good, yeah?” He states, using his other hand to cup it over your cunt.

It makes you gasp, body shaking from the sudden contact again. You press your lips together, quickly nodding as you accept his terms. You couldn’t possibly say no, anyways.

“Now,” He pauses, “Close that pretty mouth of yours n’ take what I give you,” He mutters sternly, but he isn’t done. “I’m gonna tell you what I’m gonna do to you, and you’re gonna be a good girl for me. Is that right?” He asks, fingers rubbing ever so softly against you.

You nod, shakily agreeing as you hold back from moving, “T-That’s right.”

He grins. “Good. You’re real pretty when you listen to me.”

You breathe shakily, stomach fluttering from his words and watching as he lowers to lay himself directly in between your thighs, hands now gripping them with his head facing you.

“Am I not when I don’t?” You retort, taking your chance to bite back.

He chuckles, “You know you’re more than pretty, baby.. I just like you like this more.”

You wouldn’t expect any less from him and his need for you.. And, if anything? It makes you want to be more like this for him.

“Giving yourself up to me..” He hums, caressing your thigh sensually and slowly, eyes devouring you, “Now, doesn’t that feel so much better?”

Before you can respond, his thumb slides from your inner thigh to slip underneath your panties, feeling for your slick slit as you hiss at the sudden contact, skin to skin. Fuck, he was unpredictable.

You gasp softly, walls involuntarily clenching around nothing. The way he was talking to you.. It was driving you crazy.

“No more talking back, no more excuses.. Now that I got you like this, honey. Just how it should be.. How you’re meant to be.” He continues, making your heart race. You were giving yourself up to him the more he spoke; the more he made you realize just how much you needed him, too.

The powerful, superior version of yourself.. crumbling all by the hands of the man who wants to see you break.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart..” He tells you, eyes on your face as his thumb slides through your folds, “’M gonna eat you out and make you cum on my tongue..”

The tip of his thumb sinks inside of you, forcing a moan out of your mouth. You need more, breathing heavily as you process his words, envisioning all the things he’s putting inside of your head.

“And then, I’m gonna do it.. Again, and again, until you can’t anymore.”

His thumb then slips out of you, moving and using his fingers to hook itself at the hem of your panties, pulling them off of you roughly. It’s quick and seamless, leaving you completely exposed for him, legs spread wide enough for him to fix on your glistening core immediately.

His fingers glide in between your throbbing lips, soaked beyond your control as he grunts at the sight and feeling. “Fuck yeah, baby.. So fuckin’ wet, shit.”

He can hardly control himself, slowly inserting two of his thick, long fingers inside of you, the lewd sound coaxing a laugh out of his throat. He pumps his fingers deliberately, eyes indecisive on where to linger; your face or your cunt. He picks the latter, gaze fixed on your walls gripping his digits, memorizing the way you take them, squelching and slick with your arousal.

Your pants drive his movements faster, moaning his name softly as your core tightens each time his fingers slowly begin to fill you to the hilt, knuckle-deep inside of you. 

You whine loudly, incoherent noises escaping your lips as you look down at him, squirming. “There we go, baby.. Look at how good you’re takin’ it.. pretty pussy begging for more.” He praises, taking his sweet time to pull his fingers out of you, watching how your hole closes from how empty you are.

Before you can register the feeling, he leans forward, sticking out his tongue to lick a stripe against your folds, the tip of it hitting your swollen clit. It makes your body jolt, the shock of the sensation igniting your nerves. It’s been a long fucking time since you’ve felt this good.

He moans out, breath hitting your cunt as it sends shivers down your spine. “Tastes fuckin’ good, baby.. Gonna fuck you with my tongue now, yeah?” He mutters, words hardly coherent enough for you before he latches his mouth around your clit, sucking it softly. 

You cry out at the feeling, involuntarily squirming away as it overwhelms you. He was so fucking quick; desperate and needy. Before you could pull away from him, his arms wrap around your thighs, roughly pulling you close. He traps you with his hold, tongue now exploring your folds and devouring you like a starved man.

“Derek! O-Oh, fuck!” You groan, shutting your eyes tightly as your body overtakes you, short and quick breaths filling his ears. You feel him chuckle, sending small vibrations through your core as he slides his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out of you. His thumb then moves up to your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against it, wanting to feel you shake.

And, you do, as your walls clench around his tongue, body writhing hastily, overwhelmed with pleasure and that familiar build growing inside of you. Your hand reaches for his hair, gripping the bleached locks that give you a single ounce of control.

Your grasp allows you to push his face further into your cunt, grinding yourself against his mouth as you chase your high, crying his name out as if it were the only word you knew. Your stomach fills with warmth, breaths quickening as you cum shakily on his tongue without any warning.

You moan out his name one last time, convulsing around him as you increasingly grow sensitive, releasing your grip on his hair. He doesn’t let up though, and your nerves gradually become delicate, forcing a whine out of you; a protest. “N-No.. No more, Derek, fuck, I c-can’t, please.” You stammer out, trying to writhe away from his grasp.

He only takes a second to pull away from you, shaking his head disapprovingly as he pulls you back to him, reestablishing his grasp on your thighs even tighter than before.

He looks up at you, eyes hungry for more, “That was only one, honey. Not enough. C’mon, know you can give me another, yeah.. Just one more..” He encourages you, using one of the hands wrapped around your thigh to give it small rubs, soothing your trembling body.

Your body involuntarily twitches, overstimulated from your first orgasm and the continuous contact on your skin. You just nod at him though, letting out a small “okay” so he can verbally hear it; something you’re starting to know that he likes from you.

He grins up at you, evidently satisfied at your actions. “There we go, you’re getting it now.. Such a good fucking girl.”

His praises cause your face to heat up, his approval of you becoming the one thing you never thought you’d need from him.

Turns out, you’re finding out a lot of things about yourself tonight that you didn’t know.

You take a deep breath in preparation, watching one of his arms unrestrain your thigh, hand moving towards your core. He glances back to your face, then to your pussy, pressing the tip of his index and middle finger to your entrance. You watch his face as he licks his lips, pressing them in slowly, almost excruciatingly slow.

You whine, the force of his fingers making your walls constrict around them, and your heart beats rapidly everywhere. You’re still tight, and he can feel it too.

He lets out a laugh as his eyes flicker to your face to watch it twist, and it feels mean. “You’re still so fucking tight, holy shit,” He chuckles again, fingers pulling out of you to rest against your hole, and shoving it back in deliberately. You cry out his name, incoherent words spilling out of your lips as you squirm away from him again.

He mutters out, “No, no, no, stay here, baby, come on,” and his large arm reaches to grip your waist, pulling you back to him once again. His forearm stays against your stomach now, pinning you into the couch so you can’t possibly move away. “Yeah, yeah, there y’go.” He draws out.

“Just gotta let yourself go, sweetheart.. Don’t fight it, c’mon..”

Your eyes shut tightly, and you listen to him, letting yourself go. The control in your body begins to fade, and he takes it as a sign to continue; fucking his thick fingers back into your cunt with an increasing pace and force.

You feel so full with him, but just as you think that, he adds a third finger, stretching you out further as he quickens his thrusts.

The lewd noises fill the room, your soaked folds flowing onto his hand and growing louder the faster he moves. Your pussy takes his fingers eagerly, engulfing them seamlessly. “Wish you could see what I’m seein’, honey.. Your cunt gripping every inch of my fucking fingers, fuck, so fuckin’ pretty. Doing so good, baby, I know it feels so good, huh?” His words are too much for you, along with his fingers moving so fast from how soaked you were. 

They start to pound into that one spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and you convulse around them, body twitching, but hardly affecting Derek from his harsh grip on you. It keeps you still for him, never stopping his moves as he lets out whispers of encouragement to you, praising you absentmindedly and breathing heavily against your cunt.

“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, baby, cum on my fucking fingers, please.” He whines out, his hips grinding against the couch, almost as if he was getting off to your own pleasure. You shake against him, chest heaving up and down as that heat in your core builds and builds, finally releasing as you climax with his name on your tongue.

You nearly scream it, unable to control yourself as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your walls clenching around his fingers over and over again uncontrollably. He stops his movements now, letting you come down from it slowly, pulling his fingers out of you as you tremble.

As you take deep breaths, heartbeat slowing, you flutter your eyes open to look at Derek, watching as he inserts his fingers in his mouth to taste you. He pulls them out with a pop and moves himself to lay over you, using his clean hand to move your hair out of your face.

He praises you, pressing a small kiss to your forehead with his eyes looking at you with so much pride. “Did so fucking good for me, baby. Knew you could do it, fuck yeah.” He hums, now pressing a kiss to your lips.

You accept it greedily, placing your hands on his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. Your feelings for him were overwhelming; one night of pleasure causing you to confront every thought & emotion you’ve ever had of him. And the way he was treating you now? God, it made it even harder for you to feel subtle about it.

And, maybe.. Just maybe.. it was because he was the best fuck you’ve ever had.

But, despite how sensitive you were, you couldn’t help but want more. And besides, you wanted him to feel good too, after bringing you so much satisfaction.

“Thank you, Derek.. B-But, what about you?” You asked shakily, body still trembling from your peak. He shook his head, caressing your face gently as he spoke, “Nah, baby, this was all about you.. It’s always been.. about you. To make you feel good.”

You let out a small laugh and shook your head yourself, in denial of it all. Did he really care for you this much?

Before you can ask him anything, he continues, spilling out every ounce of vulnerability he could allow himself to. “Took my chance after waiting all these months. I couldn’t just let myself be so.. selfish.. Not this one time.. Yeah?” He cocked his head, trying to see if you understood or not. He seemed almost jittery; nervous and anxious to even be telling you this.

You knew he was taking such a big leap to be telling you these things.. To be acting this way. 

It didn’t go unnoticed by you at all.

You took the chance to joke with him, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Derek Danforth.. Not.. being selfish? Never thought I’d see the day.” You giggled, hoping he’d take it how you intended it to.

His head lowers to look down at your hands on him for a second, licking his lips as he takes his time to think about what to say to you. He takes a deep breath, looking back up at you as he sighs out.

“I’m trying..” He pauses, inhaling sharply, “Not.. to be.”

Your smile fades from your face, lips parting as you take in his words. It hits you, making you realize just how much he’s trying.

“At least.. Not with you, baby,” He purses his lips, swallowing, “Don’t wanna be selfish with you.. Not.. not anymore.”

You give him a small, gentle smile, nodding slowly in hopes to encourage him. You want him to open up to you; it’s all you’ve ever wanted from him.

“Derek, I..” You start, but he cuts you off.

“I know I.. I’ve been an asshole, to everyone, to you.. But, I don’t wanna be the guy.. That doesn’t deserve you anymore,” He admits quickly, almost wanting to rush it out before he bails out on it.

“I-I.. want to be the guy that does.”

He finally confesses it.. the one thing that’s been holding him down; the one thing that he’s finally managed to realize.

It wasn’t just you that captivated him.

It was the drive to change for you that did.

You let out a relieving breath, shutting your eyes as you press a passionate, genuine kiss on his lips. He takes it gratefully, sighing into your mouth as if the weight of the entire world was lifted off his shoulders.

You pull away from him, grinning as your glazed eyes glimmer at him.

“That’s a start, baby.. You’re already a mile ahead of that.” You tell him, honest and real; vulnerable yourself.

Maybe, Derek Danforth was more than capable of change.

Maybe.. Derek Danforth wasn’t so selfish after all.

Now, it was your chance to find out.

-

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i loved writing this and i might add onto it when writing for derek again to stay in this little world! :)

feedback & reblogs are always greatly appreciated <3

[justevelynnnn]

Craving.

A/N: this one is a bit weird but im inspired by being on my own period right now so i decided to write it. probably the weirdest thing i’ve written guys 💀

Pairing: Afab!reader x dofp!Logan

Summary: Logan craves to taste you during your monthly cycle so of course he’s excited when you finally ask him to “help you relieve your cramps”.

Warning: Mentions of reader being on a period, general nsfw, fingering, oral sex - Logan licks you “clean”.

Sometimes Logan thought his heightened senses were a curse. Especially smell.

Every month, for a few days…you smelled…different. Almost sweet but also there was that subtle iron. He always knew it was your period.

He got used to it. Smelling things like that. He’s smelled worse anyways. Don’t even get him started on smells from the war. But you? You were different.

This was different.

He’d help you whenever you came on. Got you a heating pad…cuddled with you more..whatever you needed. But deep down…he had this sick desire during this time.

He wanted to taste you.

Maybe even more but he just wanted to do it. Was he ashamed? Not really. I mean it’s Logan Howlett. If secret got out he wouldn’t care. Maybe be a bit embarrassed but who cares? But he sure as hell wasn’t gonna bring it up to you first.

The scent drove him crazy. He spent extra time around you just to smell you more.

One night, the cramps were especially bad. You were rolling side to side, groaning and wincing. Even the pain meds didn’t help. Logan, already awake, asked what he could do. You said nothing at first but soon asked after a couple of seconds of consideration, if he wanted to try something. If it was okay…that it might be a bit….”gross”.

The man felt mild excitement in his stomach as he knew what you were gonna ask but of course kept his cool. He said, “Sure..anything if it’ll help you baby.”

You told him how you read that orgasms can sometimes help with cramps. You looked away embarrassed adding that it’s okay if he didn’t wanna go down there right now. He laughs and tells you he’s seen and done worse. A little blood won’t hurt. Inside, he was damn near giddy it was ridiculous.

He quickly grabs towels, plugs in a heating pad and lays it on your now bare stomach and washes his hands. He turns the bedside lamp on so he could see and asks if you’re okay before he pulls your pants and underwear down. You nod and thank him again as pulls your clothes off you.

He marvels at the sight. Of course, it’s slightly covered in blood. The scent is now so strong it’s overwhelming and he unknowingly moans. He’s obviously hard now. A bit embarrassingly quick too. You couldn’t help but blush at how he was looking at you, like he was in some trance. Like he’s seeing you like that for the first time again. Most men you knew would be grossed out and disgusted by anything sexual on your period but Logan seems….more turned on?

He gets to eye level and licks his lips. He sucks on his fingers for a second, makes eye contact with you and then slips one in, slowly. A second one soon after.

Of course, you feel amazing despite the slight cramping in your abdomen from before and even a bit now. The pleasure helps distract you. Maybe it’s because you’re a bit more sensitive…

After a while of slowly fingering you, he pulls them out and licks them clean. Fuck. He’s hooked. It’s…it’s good. Well, not good good but..it was hard to explain. Maybe it’s “good” because he finally gets to “taste” you.

He moans at the taste and then he leans down. You almost protest and ask if “he’s sure?” He quickly nods.

Strong arms get a hold on each side of you and he starts to lick you clean. Devouring might be a better term. He licked like he’s been starving. Like he’s waited years to eat you out again and it’ll be the last time.

He became animalistic for a few moments. Growling and slurping. You blushed again at how much he enjoyed it along with the sounds.

He carefully licks long stripes along you. Savoring each lick. He moves to suck and kiss your clit as you writhe in pleasure. Oh, he’s in heaven.

After you’re literally completely clean he sticks his fingers back in and eats you out at the same time. It doesn’t take long for this to send you over the edge. He barely noticed you’ve finished as he was in his own world of ecstasy. You tug on his hair, silently telling him you’re getting overstimulated and he pulls away. He again licks his fingers clean and then his lips.

You relaxed as you’re now completely satisfied and hey, your cramps are gone! You thank Logan over and over as he wipes you clean with a towel and then the bottom half of his face.

“Anything for you, princess.” he says calmly but deep down he’s glad he could finally satisfy his weirdest craving. He decided to “help you” a lot more in the future.

[medra-gonbites]

Roll Initiative

A one shot chapter multi-chapter fic for @bloodweaveweek 2024

Day 7 | Alternate Universe

Word Count: 2,529

NSFW - Gambling, Teasing, Heavy Smut

“Roll a perception check!” Gale said.

“Come on!” Protested Astarion, “Can’t you just tell me what’s in the room? Do I really have to roll the bloody die every time I want to do something?”

“That’s how the game works Astarion,” Wyll sighed, “Please, listen to the Dungeon Master and roll the perception check!”

Astarion begrudgingly seized the die twenty. He shuffled it in his hand a few times before dropping it on the wooden surface of the table below him. It tumbled sporadically before landing in one of its triangular faces. One.

“You see nothing, hear nothing and smell nothing. As far as you are concerned there isn’t even a room there.” Gale declared, leaning back on his chair, his arms crossed and an impassable look on his face.

“Oh come the fuck on!” Astarion snarled, punching the table with one fist.

Wyll burst out laughing, his character sheet flying away with the power of his breath.

Astarion glared at Gale. If he didn’t know any better he would suspect that the die was loaded. 

It was his first time playing a Dungeon and Dragon campaign after Wyll had successfully worn him down to the idea. He felt absolutely ridiculous.

This type of game was not really his cup of tea, but Wyll was a really good friend and he had practically begged him to join. Apparently their party missed a player or some lame excuse like this. It didn’t make sense because when he had arrived at Gale’s, only Wyll had shown up. Apparently the three other participants had canceled at the last minute. 

Lucky Bastards. 

Before he was able to escape from this nerdish hell, Gale, the king of nerds it seemed, had proposed to do a quick and easy campaign to ease up Astarion in this new world. Not at all eased up right now it actually felt like he was being hazed like a newbie.

Gale was looking at him above his DM screen, squinting, an amused glint in his eyes and a cheeky smile etched on his face. The tip of his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. For a moment Astarion wondered if he had seen something there. A slight flash of lust in his gaze as it trailed up and down his body. But he was probably projecting. 

He was not sure if it was the commanding tone, the intelligent eyes or the fleshy pink lip budding from his lush beard, but he could not help but find him fascinatingly handsome… For a nerd. 

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

Wyll left shortly after the campaign ended. They had defeated a hobgoblin sorcerer and rescued the nobleman whom a mysterious dwarf had asked them to find. Their characters had won a few gold coins, and they themselves had drunk a few cold beers.

Astarion was surprised and a bit ashamed to admit he did like the game after all. It was stupid and random but very creative and fun. Although he had strong suspicion that  Gale and Wyll had thoroughly enjoyed making him the fall guy of the evening. 

Stabbing himself in the rib while trying to attack, tripping over a stick, failing to read a parchment resulting in his character scorching his face… etc. Frankly he had almost felt bullied.

Gale was clearing the table as Astarion was finishing his drink and slowly packing his own things. His lips around the throat of the bottle, Astarion paused mid sip, mesmerized by the game master’s hand for a moment: neatly stacking the lore books and gathering the dice in a miniature wooden chest his slander fingers were fluttering about. Astarion suddenly had the intrusive urge to lick them.

“So. Did you like it?” 

Gale's voice snatched him out of his lewd reverie. He felt his cheeks start to burn. He cleared his throat, downed his beer, and looked up to meet the brown gaze of the game master on him. He wondered if Gale could see that he was blushing. He was smiling at him. The same mischievous smile as earlier.

“It was alright.” Astarion admitted casually, making sure to hide his enthusiasm, “You could have dialed the persecution down though…”

“Apologies” Gale chuckled, “I assure you it was not personal.” 

Astarion could feel the tension between them. Now that Wyll was gone it was evident. Tangible almost. Thick enough to be cut with a knife. He caught Gale’s eyes lingering on his neck and collarbone. The latter diverted his stare immediately when he realized he had been caught. 

Astarion walked up to him. He waved a hand through his hair, caressing along the nap of his neck and landing on his sternum, subtly inviting the other man’s eyes there.  Standing mere inches from Gale he planted his eyes in his.

“Is it true? Or were you trying to teach me a lesson?” He inquired.

“What… What kind of lesson?” Gale stuttered.

“Putting me in my place… so to speak?”

Gale smirked. Astarion had placed it. There was some kind of power play at hand. As the man stroked his chin Astarion had to refrain from lunging at him and rub his face in the scruff of his cheeks.

“Come now,” Gale said softly, “You are not an hardcore player I figured, but all are welcome in this game. That’s the beauty of it.”

He took a step closer, holding Astarion’s gaze, a hint of defiance animating his big brown eyes.

“However, If you roll a critical failure, I am going to play it out.” He added, “That’s the rule. Your dice rolls were simply terrible tonight…”

“I see.”

Astarion opened the little box and seized the die-twenty. He brought it up, and held it in between the two of them.

“Let’s verify that shall we?” He whispered.

Gale’s face initially betrayed his annoyance at Astarion’s manhandling of his stuff. But when Astarion began rolling the icosahedron suggestively between his middle finger and thumb, Gale's breath itched. His jaw slacked, his pupil blew out and a pearly tooth came to bite down on his plump lip. 

Bringing the fateful object to his lips, Astarion gave it a soft kiss.

“I want to kiss you now.”

Gale swallowed. Lip parted, half hooded lids, he was hazy with want. 

“Roll for it…”

Astarion let the die fall on the table. It tumbled for what seemed to be an eternity as it bounced roughly on its angles and apexes, its sharp corners clicking against the wood of the table. The two men were holding their breath. The roll finally came to a halt, landing steady on the hard surface. 15.

With urgency and passion, Gale and Astarion collided into each other's arms and their mouths crashed together in a heated kiss.  Astarion nipped at Gale bottom lip, the one he had teased him with earlier, eliciting a moan from the other man, that he felt vibrate in his mouth. 

Astarion’s hand grabbed Gale’s cheeks and neck and languidly made its way into the strands of his hair. He grabbed a fistfull and yanked his head back, revealing the blue roads that trailed down his jaw to his chest. 

His mouth slowly moved down grazing Gale’s bearded chin, descending and licking alongside the pulsing veins mapping his neck. He buried his face in the crook of his collarbone and sucked at the tanned flesh. Gale let out an outrageous whine that ignited a potent desire in Astarion's core. He could feel his hunger pooling in his abdomen as blood inflowed down south.

He tucked at Gale’s shirt and the latter took the hint, slipping the cotton garment off, exposing the hairy plains of his chest. Astarion brought a hand upwards and laid it out on Gale’s heart, feeling the soft fuzz under his palm, squeezing his breast. He was toned and firm. Quite an impressive form for a dork. This night had certainly taught Astarion a few lessons. One being the classical “thou shalt not judge a book by its cover”. The other, that DnD was way more fun than he had anticipated.

Gale claimed his mouth once more. He sneaked a hand under Astarion’s shirt, who understood the unspoken request, and in turn, removed it and sent it flying, discarded, on the floor. Gale’s thumbs flicker over the peak of Astarion’s nipple, causing a groan in response that only coaxed Gale on.

One hand still on Gale’s chest, Astarion began to caress downwards, fondling his belly, sliding lower and lower all the way down further to his mid center. He tentatively pinched at the hem of his trousers, brushing against the skin of his pelvis. He could feel a slickness had dampened the area.

Astarion stopped their kiss and reached out for the die once more.

“I want you to go down on me.” He said.

Gale looked at him hungrily and began to lower himself down, but Astarion’s other hand on his hair held him firmly in place. He brought the dice to Gale's lips. As his partner had done before, he kissed the die with lechery, eyes blown out and dark. 

“Roll for it…”

With a flick of the wrist Astarion threw the die. The pallet of triangles rolled across the table with speed, almost falling over its edge. Luckily it stopped its course just before it could plummet off and stilled within eyesight of the two impatient men. 18.

Gale dropped to his knee without hesitation. He vehemently undid the belt and fastening of Astarion’s jeans and worked him out of his underwear. Astarion’s erection sprung free, his cock hard and bobbing, already leaking at the tip, as evidenced by the telltale stain on his boxer shorts. 

Gale smiled at this lovely and appetizing sight. He grazed the warm and soft skin of his lips, leaving wet kisses along Astarion’s shaft and sending a shiver of excitement down his spine. Breath was knocked out Astarion’s lungs when Gale’s mouth closed on his member and slid across its length, taking him in full until the base, with an obscene gurgling noise. 

As he pulled away, Gale ran the flat of his tongue on the underside of Astarion cock before curling around his tip. He began to bob his head in and out in a steady cadence, at times disrupting it to plunge the whole damn thing down his throat.

Grasping Astarion’s wrist, Gale guided his hand back to his head, encouraging the man to take the lead and steer him to his own preferred rhythm. Wrapping his fist in the brown mane, Astarion set out to push decisively as well as thrusting his hips forward, hitting deeper and deeper in the tight pipe of Gale’s throat.

As he heard coughing below, Astarion slowed down an instant. He looked down at Gale. Drool was running down his chin, tears streaming in the corner of his eyes, hungry eyes that begged for more. What a magnificent sight he was. Greedy little thing. Not only a game master, but a headmaster as well. 

With every bob of his head, every swirl of his tongue, Astarion could feel himself approaching the edge. But he could not allow that. There were way too many things he still wanted to do. He delicately cupped Gale's jaw and guided him back up. He welcomed him with a kiss, tasting himself on the other man’s lips.  

Astarion then grabbed Gale by the hips, turned him around and pressed his upper body against the table. He trailed a path of kisses down the man’s back as he was undoing and pulling his pants down. With a teasing finger Astarion probed delicately between his firm cheeks down below. 

He felt the hole, warm against the pad of his finger and slowly drew circles around the area, massaging tenderly, attentive to the pretty music of Gale’s gasps and moans. Astarion spit in his hand and coated the soft entrance with the slick of his saliva. He tentatively pressed a knuckle inside. Gale hissed in pleasure, pulsing around the digit, threatening to swallow it whole. 

Astarion progressively pushed deeper, burying himself inside, exploring the sensual cavern, and prodding the sensitive gland that sent waves of pleasure in the pit of Gale’s stomach. After a few minutes of careful kneading, Gale was already falling apart. Twitching and whimpering with every curl of Astarion’s finger, so keen on being touched. Astarion decided to take it up a notch and inserted a second finger, scissoring inside with ease, Gale’s hip bucked erratically against his wrist.

Soon it became apparent that Gale was close to coming undone, while Astarion could feel his aching cock request his attention. As he took his hard self in hand, he started lavishly rubbing it up and down between Gale’s fleshy cheeks. Gale was rolling his hips in unisson, grinding his own member between himself and the table. His tip was leaking on the wood, and the pressure was close to hurtful against the hard surface of the table. 

Astarion pressed his leaking tip on the warm entrance of Gale’s body; he spit another long filament of drool which he spread generously around the area using his cock. Bending forward over Gale’s back, he nipped at his earlobe and let out a subtle moan into his ear, sending a jolt of electricity down the other man’s spine. 

“Do you want it?” He asked, pinning him down under his body, ready to penetrate Gale and Gale oh so ready to receive him.

“Please… Yes…” Gale’s voice came ragged and strained.

“Roll for it…” He ordered, squeezing Gale’s ass, spreading it wider.

Gale let out a disapproving groan. He crawled to reach for the die all the way across the table. He weakly shook the die a few times before dropping it next to him. Astarion laughed as he saw the fateful face of the die taunting him yet again. 1.

With a resigned sigh, Astarion pulled away from Gale, tucking his cock back in his briefs, the fabric tenting from the pressure of his erected sex. He pulled his pants up and picked up his shirt on the floor. Gale remained splayed on the table, dumbstruck for a moment. Eventually he propped himself on his elbows and turned around to face Astarion, incredulous.

“Really?!” He exclaimed.

Astarion shrugged, now fully dressed, throwing the strap of his bag over his shoulder, before approaching the other man once more. He planted a gentle peck on his forehead, then lower on his cheek, before claiming his lips with a sultry yet tender kiss. Breaking away he laid his forehead upon Gale’s.

“That’s the rule…” He said, before adding with a naughty smirk, “Your dice rolls were simply terrible tonight…” 

Before Gale could voice his protest, Astarion stifled his rants with his tongue. 

Pulling away from the kiss, leaving Gale dazed and disoriented, half naked on the dining room table, Astarion headed for the exit. As he seized the knob on the front door, he turned around to face the confused Dungeon Master he was about to leave, wanton, panting and ruined.

“Same time next week?” He purred, “I’ll get my own dice.” 

It promised to be an interesting campaign.

Read the rest in chapter 2!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A special sort of craving 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: A stranger appears at your cafe and leaves you unsettled.

Part of the Backwood AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The quiet one goes out with another tray for the lively partygoers. You’ve permitted Katherine to join the furor as she was much too distracted to be of any true help. As it is, you’re about to send your second helper home to get her out of the frenzy. She’s ill-equipped for it and you can handle things just fine on your own. 

As you wait for her to return, you continue to clear and stack the trays. You’re certain Frigga won’t mind if you leave them and return to pick them up tomorrow. Little good you’re doing here as Thor sows the last of his wild oats. Yet, you hardly think a number is going to change much. 

The door swings open and you look up, expecting that quiet girl and her doleful eyes. Its not her. Shit. Of course he’s there. 

“Ah, there you are, sweetie pie,” Lloyd calls with a keen smirk at his lazy pun. “I’ve been looking for you all night.” 

“I’m working,” you continue your work, setting a stack on the cart. “Go, enjoy the party--” 

“I didn’t come to deal with the drunken idiot,” he insists as he looms on the other side of the able, “I came for the dessert.” 

“Those aren’t out yet, you’ll have to wait,” you ignore him for your work.  

You can sense him as he inches towards the corner of the big metal table. You try not to react. It’s exactly what he’s looking for. You might not know much of city folk but you have a good idea. You don’t want to feed his ego, he might just hurt himself if it inflates any bigger. 

“I’m not talking about cake, well, not like that,” he snickers as he comes closer and closer. 

“Ew, would you not? I really don’t have time--” you begin as you slice berries. 

“Sure ya do. Everyone’s off their head. They don’t care about your shortcake, sweetheart.” 

“Not interested, for the last time--” 

He reaches for you and you turn, pointing the paring knife at him. His eye glints and he tilts his head. He takes a deep breath and lets out a sinister laugh. 

“Don’t be stupid. You shouldn’t pull a knife unless you’re prepared to use it,” his face turns sober and his brow arches. You can see along the edge of your vision how his fingers twitch, “should put that away before you cut yourself.” 

“Leave me alone,” you force out, heart racing. “I don’t know how they do it in the city but when someone says no, the answer is--” 

“Boring,” he swipes at your hand and knocks the knife from it. The blade bounces off the table and skitters over to the other side, falling onto the floor. 

In a moment, he has you in his grip; one hand on the back of your skull, the other on your jaw. You whimper and clutch at his wrists. You grit your teeth and stomp around blindly, trying to crush his toes. 

“Hey, get the hell off of me!” You hiss as he squeezes enough to make your head throb. 

“What you don’t understand, sweet cheeks,” he walks you backwards, “is that in the city, we take what we want,” he continues on, keeping you on your heels, “I want the rest of that cherry pie, baby.” 

“No, urgh, stop,” you scratch and slap at him helplessly as he marches you around the fridge, “let go--” 

“Shh, baby, it don’t gotta be bad,” he coaxes as he takes you through a doorway, “in fact, I wanna make it real good for you.” He pokes out his tongue and lewdly licks along the bristle of his mustache, “I bet you’re sweet. Taste like sugar... melt like it too, won’t you?” 

“N-no,” you grunt as he kicks the door to the storage room closed, “Lloyd, I’ll scream--” 

“Listen, baby, shhhh,” he hushes you again, “you hear that?” 

Your eyes round as you stare at him. He pushes you against a shelf as you listen. You can hear the music, the voices, and the sheer chaos brewing on the other side of the walls. A scream breaks out and is met only by raucous laughter. He presses his thumb behind your jaw until you squirm. 

“Think they’ll come find you? If they do, you think they’ll find you before I got your cherry?” 

“Get--” you wisp as you writhe and claw helplessly. “Stop, no--” 

He pushes his knee between both of yours. He keeps his hand around your jaw as he crosses his other arm across your chest. He pins you to the shelf as it rattles. He leans into you until your bones ache and lets his hand trail away from your chin. 

“Just relax,” he snarls, “it’ll be good if you just let it happen,” he feels along the side of your apron and dips his hand beneath. His fingertips dance along the top of your pants as you wriggle and gnash your teeth, “I don’t usually like to play with my food but you need a little extra kneading, baby.” 

He shoves his hand down the front of your pants, your chest straining against his weight. Your ribs ache and your head swims. The walls seems to slant around you as the futility paralyses you.  

His forearm draws your waistband so tie it cuts into you. The apron string snaps, then the button of your fly. He angles his hand against your vee as you try to close your knees against his. He growls and presses against the front of your panties, rubbing heat through fabric as you whine. 

“Trust me when I say the stache feels better,” he winks, “but you’re gonna have to earn that, baby face,” he grins and curls his fingers under, covering your clit with his thumb as he uses his index to edge aside your panties.  

He glides against your folds and along your entrance, letting out a dramatic gasp, “oh no, sweetie pie,” he flicks his finger through your slickness and you squirm, “you’re fucking wet.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “you can drop the act already ‘cause we both know you’re gonna love this,” he pokes at your entrance until he dips inside, “you’re never gonna forget the way you feel right fucking now.” 

[mcverse]

Can the Sakamaki brothers reaction to a s/o what a deep voice and use it to fluster them or scare them I hope this makes sense and not confuse you.😖

Pairing: GN! Reader x a Sakamaki Brother

Type: Reaction

Word count: 618

Warning: Slight fluff, biting, talk of punishment, Slightly suggestive, faux feelings

Side bar: You didn’t give me a pronoun or gender so I’m gonna keep it neutral. Also, I’m going to assume you meant when you surprise them with a deep voice suddenly. Hopefully I got it down to the T. There’s no scaring the gang unless they seriously can not afford to loss you.

Another thing: I hc the reader, all readers, in my post have stockholm syndrome. It makes more sense. That’s why reader is comfortable doing things like this.

Dialover M.List

Like always, characters are aged up appropriately!

Sakamaki Brothers caught slipping

Shu Sakamaki

What was he going to do with you?

Such a humorous human. His human.

From the moment he knew of your existence to now as you stand over him, it was always a surprise with you.

What were you thinking, popping up on him with a change of tone? Don’t tell him you were expecting an uncharacteristic reaction out of him.

Please. You wish you little minx.

The corner of his lips twitch into a smirk, he hums as his only acknowledgment of you. He was tempted to open his eyes to see the knowing pout on your lips but he wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of this trick.

Renji Sakamaki

Oh. You caused a small, barely noticeable rift in his demeanor.

But you noticed—he noticed you noticed—if that sly smirk pulling on your lips didn’t give away.

He sighs, continuing his drink in thought. That was very childish of you. And you should know better than doing that with him.

“What are you trying to accomplish?” He place the cup down and glares at you. You drop your smile when you see that look.

Yes, the look where you knew this little victory is short lived. A punishment was soon to follow.

Laito Sakamaki

Very good, very good indeed.

This was one of the things Laito enjoyed about you. There was never a dull moment. You were just so exciting and full of surprise.

Every part of you.

It shocks him everytime. Only you do, only you were allowed.

He chuckles lowly, which breaks out into a full on laugh. He stops moments after to look at you with a glint in his eyes, “You never cease to amaze me, little bitch.” He grabs your wrist, pulling you into an embrace.

Ayato Sakamaki

Did you just..

He’s shocked at first but a laugh escapes him in seconds as he found the whole thing amusing. You were comfortable, maybe too comfortable with him.

Ayato licks his lips, eyes narrowing on your face.

How can someone be cute and delicious at the same time?

So many thought ran through his head on what he can do with you… should he drink from you, or mark you up as his, to claim you like it wasn’t already obvious?

You deserve it after getting a surprise out of him. Not everyone can do that.

“Ore-sama is going to reward you for that stunt.”

Kanato Sakamaki

You thought the prank was funny, a ploy many would enjoy.. well, anyone but Kanato.

Kanato was kinda surprised. After all that wasn’t the voice he grew accustomed to, the one he grew to love and searched for.

It was was too deep. He didn’t like the sound of it. And it sorta pissed him off that you’ll do this to him. He’s been nothing but nice to you as of lately.

What was your agenda?

Kanato pouts, “How could you trick me like that? Are you playing with me?” He turns to teddy, a creepy smile shaping his lips, “Perhaps they’ll like to play dolls instead, teddy?”

Subaru Sakamaki

What the hell was wrong with you?

Sure, you shocked him ever so slightly but you left him more annoyed.. and a little bit concerned that you finally lost it living here with him.

He sighs, closing his eyes as he tries to calm himself down. You were just having fun… he tries to remind himself. You were just bored…

Where’d you even learn that from?! You spent most of your time with him.

He opens his eyes to see you staring at him in anticipation. He couldn’t help but scuff at how you cutely waited for a reaction.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He turns to leave, a small smile spreading to his face.

[blue-slxt]

Kinktober 23

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: Another continuation! This one is sort of a part 2 for my Toxic request that I did. Toxic ex-boyfriend Neteyam lights a fire in me. He's such an ass, but I love it lol. Plus, it's a lot of fun to write. I hope you guys like it. All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Metkayina!Reader

Warnings: P in V, Jealous Reader, Low Key Toxic Neteyam, Low Key Toxic-Loving Reader, Biting, Creampie

There was no one that you had loved like Neteyam. But in that same vain, there was no one who knew how to get under your skin like Neteyam. Ever since the night of the party when he left you high and dry in the forest, it was like he was hell bent on driving you crazy. He got this twisted sense of satisfaction keeping your attention on him even though he had dumped you. Despite dropping you, he still wanted you to only belong to him. And you had a terrible habit of playing right into what he wanted.

You feel out of your mind these days. The way your face still gets frustratingly hot when you look at him and how the tip of your tail flicks, against your will, from side to side when he watches you. The logical part of your mind is scolding you for being still interested in him in any way. But you’d be lying if you said that the other part of you didn’t enjoy the power he still held over you. Maybe you were just as sick as him, after all.

Things finally came to a head when Neteyam made sure to make a big display of himself flirting with another girl in front of you. He’d lean in close to her and whisper something in her ear to make her giggle sweetly at him and she’d run her fingers along his muscles where they’d linger for a little longer than was really necessary. It made you sick to your stomach. Your chest felt hot with anger and…jealousy. Which was ridiculous. He’s your ex and he has the right to do whatever he wants with whomever. But when you see his fingers ghost over her face and start to trace her lower lip, logic gets immediately evicted from your mind.

All you see is red coming up behind Neteyam and it feels like your body moves on its own when you grab the base of his queue and tug hard on it pulling him away from his “conversation”.

“Ah! What the f—”

“Who’s your friend, love?” you ask dripping venom in your words.

Neteyam’s annoyance is quickly replaced by amusement at your actions while the girl looks at you in shock.

“Just a friend that I was—”

You cut him off again, “So nice to meet you! You won’t mind if I steal him away for a while, right? Great.” You fake smile at her as you drag Neteyam away through the trees.

Once you’re far away enough that you’re sure no one else can see or hear you, you release your hold on him. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap at him.

“My problem? I was moving on and talking to someone else. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” He has the most annoying, smug grin on his face knowing that he was purposefully pushing your buttons and you were dancing right in the palm of his hand.

“Don’t bullshit me, Neteyam. You know what I’m talking about. You just had that girl all over you when you know—”

“Know what?” he tilts his head teasingly at you.

Your mouth clamps shut in embarrassment and you let out a groan of frustration.

He steps closer to you and uses a finger under your chin to tilt your face up to his.

“If there’s something you want, sweetheart, I’ll let you have it.”

Fuck, you hate the way that the low tone of his voice makes you clench around nothing.

‘Fuck it.’ You think before practically throwing yourself into him and smashing your lips onto his. Instantly Neteyam’s hands are on every inch of your exposed skin. The kiss is feverish and messy, but full of so much want. He easily lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist walking over to a tree and pinning you against it.

He finally releases your mouth so that he can kiss and lick on your neck while he tried to undo the bothersome tie on your tewng.

“You’re—ah!...You’re still an asshole…” you pant out.

“Mhm” he hums still amused by your petulance.

“And I-I hate you…mmf!” it’s mortifying how it comes out in a whine.

“Yes, yes, I know.” He continues his mission of littering you in kisses and licks. Finally, he manages to get both of your tewngs undone and let them fall to the ground. He holds your hips in place for him to position himself just right so that he can slide you down onto him.

Neteyam wastes no time thrusting up into you and using his hands on your hips to move you in perfect time with his.

“Ahn…f-fuck! Neteyam! Haah…”

“Aw, what’s the matter, baby? Nothing to say now that you’re filled with my cock?” there’s that smug look again. He knows that your English isn’t great, but you loved the sound of him speaking it with his thick accent decorating the foreign words.

You feel yourself getting lightheaded from how you’re panting and your eyes are starting to cross getting lost in the sensation of his thick tip grinding against the spongey part of your walls.

And even though he’s completely buried himself inside of you right now, your mind is still sending you flashes of that other girl talking to him, smiling at him, touching him…touching what’s yours. It sends you into a spiral where a bone-deep urge scratches at the inside of your skull to reclaim what belongs to you.

There’s not a solid, coherent thought behind your actions. It’s purely instinct-driven when you sink your teeth into Neteyam’s neck. And when you bite him, you bite hard. Enough to draw small dribbles of blood from where your fangs had punctured his skin. He sucks in a sharp breath and lets it go in a stuttering sigh.

“Ah! That’s right, baby. Take it.” He says speeding up.

You still have no real idea what he’s saying, but Eywa, if he didn’t make it sound so sexy.

‘More. More. More!’ your body chants to you. It’s not enough. One bite won’t do it. You need to mark him more. Make sure that it’s obvious to everyone that he already belongs to someone. To imbed your scent into his skin so that all other females will steer clear.

You lick the small holes just enough to stop the bleeding and immediately find a new spot to mutilate. And another. And another, still. At this point, he’s starting to look like a chew toy, but neither of you could care less. You don’t stop until you’re satisfied.

When your head finally falls back against the tree, you’re trying your best to still the unsteady spinning in your mind.

“Look at me.” Neteyam growls out grabbing your face and making you look him in the eye.

“You love me, baby?” he asks in that unknown tongue again as he ruts into your clenching walls.

You nod your head with a whimper. You couldn’t care less whatever he’s asking you right now. He could be saying absolute nonsense in your ear right now, but as long as he kept fucking you like this, you would say yes to anything.

“You still mine?”

“Yes! Yes! Neteyam! Oh, Great Mother, I’m going to cum!”

“Go ahead, give it to me. Cum on my dick while I fill you up.” His thrusts become long and deep and your legs tremble in his hold. Your back arches off of the tree while your eyes roll and your toes curl when your release hits you full force.

The constant flutter of your walls hugging his cock like this make him finally spill and paint your insides white.

“Ahhh…Haah….haah…”

Neteyam holds you both still for a minute while you both catch your breaths.

“Vonvä'” you mutter to him. He just cracks a smile and kisses your cheek.

“Whatever you say, yawne.”

Kinktober Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ashlatano7567 @sincerelykaib @jamies-wh0re @quaritchsluts @jakescumdump @delacruzyari @onlyloaksgf @skywonder @taintedlovesworld @myloveforyouisforever @angie-1306 @moodays @childofgod-05 @hadesbabygurl @daddysmurfslefttoenail @loaksulluyswife @y4sm1nsstuff @thewhiltedpeony @lovefrommeelise @neteyamssyulang @rosyjn @imintoomanyfandomscuzihaveadhd @anaclaudiasugar @xxwelshqueenxx @hania11 @xylianasblog @idkanymoregirl @eyrina-avatar @biscuitsaredelish @quinn-sadilla @the_mourning_moon @eyweveng @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @xaxsir @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @navilover24 @sulieykte @iameatingmyhair @leaveitbythewave @ntymavtr @fifilynn16 @kiri-tuk @mstocky78 @neteyamyawne @randumfanfics @sliqeramx @bluewonder @the-morning-moon @nerdfacesposts @vip-btxch @neteyamsyawntu @teyamsatan @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @dixonjunkie @neteyamswillow

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[queenofthekings]

𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘦

Summary: Stuck at Steve Harrington’s Christmas party; you and Eddie both escape and end up in the same quiet room.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Author’s note: Another one of my Edancy fics made into an Eddie and Reader fic, I hope you enjoy!

CW: None, just fluff

Word count: 602

Tagging: @lunatictardis @reidsbtch @melodymunson @battymunson

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

Steve Harrington’s Christmas party was the highlight of every year – they were legendary, it almost seemed like everyone would base their social calendar for the year around his party. Anyone who was anyone in Hawkins would be invited and then they would bring a plus one or two, making the invite list and endless array of names that everyone was sure Steve barely knew.

Eddie always thought the parties were massively overrated. If he wanted to watch people get too drunk they couldn’t stand and then start fighting, he would’ve gone to The Hideout on a Friday night. He’d tried to relax by drinking a couple of beers, but it didn’t seem to have worked, way too many people.

He’d escaped to an upstairs bedroom, sitting against the bed, and staring out at the large balcony doors, wondering how the hell he’d ended up even getting invited in the first place.

You were always drawn to parties – there was something about the way people could just lose themselves in the music and alcohol that always seemed to intrigue you. Even if your own party days were long over, you still loved to go to parties and just talk to people, even if they were completely wasted and made no sense. During the course of the evening, you’d been given a makeshift flower crown, although instead of flowers, it had cranberries and mistletoe braided into it.

After making a quick trip to the bathroom, you saw the back of Eddie slip into one of the bedrooms, the door closing quickly behind him. You looked around to see nobody else was watching or following, and then followed in after him. You tried to be as quiet as possible but clearly not quiet enough as he turned and looked at you.

“Sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

Eddie relaxed at your words of concern, relaxing back on the floor before moving aside so you could sit next to him. “I’m okay. I just… I don’t even know why I’m here; someone invited me as a plus one. Parties aren’t really my forte.”

You rested your chin on your knees, licking your lips. “I invited you.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

Eddie smiled at your words, instinctively moving closer to you. “Oh, really? What did you wanna talk about?”

You shrugged, shaking your head a little as you blushed. “Anything. I like hearing you talk; you always just seem so compelling when you do.”

“Well, well, well, I never thought the Princess of Hawkins would want to talk to me, Eddie Munson, the lowly peasant.”

“I don’t think of you like that, nor do I think of myself like that.”

“I think of myself like that,” Eddie shrugged, taking the last sip of his beer before putting it to one side. “I like the headdress, by the way. It’s very… fairy tale.”

You smiled, remembering you still had the crown on. “Thanks, there was a girl downstairs giving them out, saying we should’ve all gotten more into the Christmas spirit.”

He gently poked it, pulling off a mistletoe berry. “Is that mistletoe?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, there’s one thing I have to do now,” he whispered before kissing your cheek before you could question or protest.

You frowned a little, confused as he pulled away. “What was that for?”

“The tradition is you kiss a girl under mistletoe so that next year, she isn’t single and for every kiss, you remove one berry until there’s none left,” he smiled softly, pulling off another berry.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

ooooh are you writing bonus content for 9000 rpm too?? is there a third toastbaby for them? is it toastbaby boy??? and is he conceived during car sex???? like Raven and Amelia????? 👀

This turned out a lot longer than I had planned, Anon. So I am breaking it up into 2 parts. Here is part 1. I'll add a link to this post for part 2 once I get that finished.

RATED E: for explicit sexual content, explicit language. Also breeding kink. :D

****

“We should have another,” Katniss says to him late one night, long after both girls have gone to bed. They’re sprawled on their sheets. Limbs overlapping and the covers shoved to the floor. Peeta’s still actively sweating and catching his breath. He only just came a minute ago. Or maybe he’s just been so dazed with the euphoria that it was actually fifteen minutes ago, because he can already feel himself getting stiff again when Katniss says that.

So it’s going to be one of those nights, he thinks with a wide grin.

“Lemme catch my breath first, then you can do whatever you want to me,” he teases.

“No,” Katniss says and rolls over towards him. 

She flops one arm over his chest and pulls herself closer, until she can wrap her leg around his and wriggle against his thigh. Her knee brushes against his balls. He’s definitely getting aroused again already. Especially when she smirks at him and swipes at the corner of his mouth with her thumb. 

“Not sure if this is you or me,” she murmurs and he grabs her hand, sucking diligently on her thumb until she whimpers and the flavors make sense to him. He came first, and when he does that, he loves going down on her, tasting their combined flavor until she’s come hard enough to satisfy him. That’s usually a long, messy endeavor, involving edging her several times. And obviously he didn’t lick his lips enough after he finished with her.

“My favorite. It’s both of us,” he tells her, and the blush on her cheeks at his words only arouses him more. She leans into him, her eyes turning a molten shade of silver he’s long since learned means that they’re about to fuck.

“I mean, yes, obviously I want another round. If you’re up for it,” she says with a slight quirk to her lips, eyes dipping to his groin for a moment before her expression sobers. “But really, I meant, we should have another baby.”

“What?” he asks and lifts his head to look at her. She bites her lip and shrugs, almost embarrassed, but there’s a warm gleam in her gray eyes. “Oh come on now, don’t tease me like that. We both know it makes you horny as hell when I braid the girls’ hair for bedtime.”

He still remembers the first time he discovered that particular turn on of hers several years ago, when they still had only Raven. They hadn’t even made it to the bed that night. Not really. Katniss had straddled his face while he laid on the floor, his hands gripping her ass while she smothered him and he feasted on her. She had gripped the comforter on their bed and bit her lip to try and stifle her moans. When she came, she yanked the bedclothes down on top of them in a cascade. Peeta had nearly ripped some of them so that he could uncover their bodies enough to get both of them onto the edge of the mattress and his cock inside her still quivering pussy. That night was actually the first time they’d seriously discussed having a second child.

“Well… yeah. In fairness to me, you are one very sexy Daddy,” Katniss admits her own kink, her blush deepening slightly, her fingertips absently tracing around his nipple and driving him to distraction. He snatches up her hand again and kisses her fingertips, enjoying the way she shivers and sighs when he does that. Another of her turn ons. He’s not playing fair anymore, and he knows it. Because this conversation has him fully aroused and he’s already got in mind what he wants to do to his wife to get her to shatter around him again. And it involves her braid this time.

But he needs to clear up one thing first.

“So that’s all this is,” he murmurs reassuringly, ignoring the twinge of longing in his chest. “Especially since Raven doesn’t let us braid her hair like that very often anymore.”

“I can’t believe she’s going to be a teenager next year,” Katniss groans but she’s smiling at the growing independence they’ve seen in their daughter.

“Me either. But... Tomorrow, it won’t sound like such a good idea to have another baby,” Peeta murmurs.

“I don’t think so,” she argues. He brings his hand up to rest on her shoulder, to caress her skin as she explains that she’s been thinking about this for a while, not just tonight. That she’s in a great spot in her career to take another break.

“You just won a Victor’s Cup title. Most would argue that you should be aiming for a repeat,” he reminds her and she shrugs. “A good crew chief would urge you to keep pushing and go for a repeat.”

“But a good husband would tell me to follow my heart, to pursue what I want, and to not push too hard if I’m worried about burning out,” she counters.

“Are you worried about burning out?” he asks and Katniss scowls at him. Peeta’s unable to hide his smile. “Didn’t think so. Are we having this conversation as driver and crew chief, or as husband and wife?”

“We’re having it as Katniss and Peeta,” she says and rises up to kiss him on the lips. But then her lips turn down a little. “Unless… you really don’t want another one?”

Peeta sucks in his breath and holds it in, almost afraid to admit to her how desperately he wants another baby with her. They’ve had this moment of passionate sex and vague baby talk before. And it’s fizzled before. He shrugs, attempting to brush it off, keep his hopes in check. “I mean, I’ve thought about it here and there.”

“Okay. Then you should really think about it now,” she says, her face softening with a smile and her hand drifting lower down his body. She bites her lip as her eyes brighten again. “In the meantime…”

And he does think about it. At that moment, yes, absolutely. Because the truth is, he’s long since known that he gets incredibly aroused and then a little crazed in bed at just the thought of getting Katniss pregnant. So this entire conversation is like intense foreplay to him.

And she certainly isn’t complaining several minutes later, when he’s got her on her knees, quietly begging him to let her come while he wildly takes her from behind. When he has her braid twisted around his right hand and tugs ever so lightly to arch her back into it a tiny bit more.

“Fuck. There. Right there. Peeta, please,” she whimpers. He splays his fingers on her shoulder blades, holding her down on the mattress. Right where he wants her, the pressure keeping her hair wrapped around his hand as his thrusts pick up the pace just a little.

“Right here? This how you need my cock?” he asks.

“Uh-huh,” she moans and his left hand clenches on her ass, probably leaving bruises, but she’s close. So close. He can hear it in her hiccoughing moans as she tries to keep quiet, and see it in the way she’s gripping the sheets in front of her. Feel it in the way she pushes back to meet his thrusts, their skin colliding in loud, deliciously slick popping sounds. His hand on her ass maintains the right angle for them. He feels it in the slickness of her pussy and then in the fluttering right before the first tight squeeze and her desperately wild moans.

And then he can’t stop his own release. It burns through him in a flash, so intense he closes his eyes and watches the flames behind his eyelids as he slams into her a few more times, pumping his cum as deep as he can. 

And wishing she weren’t taking birth control. Desperately wanting to see her belly round and stretched with a baby again. His baby. He shudders and keeps thrusting until he can’t take it anymore. Until his cock is so sensitive that he’ll go mad with a second more of stimulation. Then he thrusts deep enough to lift Katniss’s knees off the bed for a second and stays that deep as his arms give out and he lays on top of her.

In the aftermath, Katniss takes his hand in hers and lifts her hips the tiniest amount. “Touch me. I wasn’t done yet,” she whispers and Peeta lets her guide his hand to her clit. His fingers slip and slide through the mess of their sex, but it doesn’t take long before Katniss is writhing beneath him and then coming again. And Peeta thrusts his fingers into her, filling her and fulfilling his futile need to feel her pussy all wet with his cum. Dreaming of a baby.

And then for days after, Peeta doesn’t stop thinking about it.

Over the next few weeks, he can’t get the idea out of his head, as he works long hours to hire new teammates to replace those that retired or moved on to higher ranking jobs, buoyed by their involvement with Katniss’s championship winning team. When he’s supposed to be listening to the designers and mechanics as they brief him on the cars and layouts they’re planning for the upcoming season so he can provide his feedback.

He thinks about it so often that they almost get caught having sex on his desk once. Even though they agreed long ago that they shouldn’t fuck at work. But Katniss had been damn near insistent until Peeta had gotten inside her, and then she’d been all pliant and whimpering and begging him to make her come. Begging him to come with her.

And at night, when they’re at home, Peeta feels like a man possessed. Insatiable. Not that Katniss is complaining about that either. She actually encourages him. Whispering in his ears that she wants him to shove her on the bed and fuck her. Whispering wishes that he would fill her up with his cum becomes her primary seduction technique. Perhaps because it’s working so well.

Once racing season starts again, Katniss brings in a third place finish right out of the gate, and Peeta thinks about it even more. Practically all the time. When he’s spending time with Amelia and Raven. When he’s fixing his truck or Katniss’s or even Aunt Laverne’s. When they’re in the kitchen, preparing or cleaning up from meals. 

Once, Peeta even finds himself thinking about it when they’re out for a bowling night with the girls and he makes a stop in the bathroom. There’s a dad with his son, reminding him to wash his hands afterwards, and Peeta gets so distracted by the thought of Katniss pregnant with another baby, of himself getting to raise another baby with her, that he doesn’t even realize he’s finished taking a leak until the dad leaves with his kid.

Peeta’s caught baby fever, without a doubt in his mind, but he’s still not convinced that Katniss truly wants another one.

Because where he thinks about it the most, is the only place she seems to think about it at all. Which is in bed, and she knows he’s got a bit of a thing for that kind of dirty talk. She knows from when they were trying for Amelia that just the idea of getting her pregnant gets him off. Hard.

He thinks about it as they fuck and make love and she whispers to him while he’s balls deep inside of her, encouraging him to fuck her harder, to come inside her. She whispers, telling him to think about how he could be giving her another baby right then. But then, after he’s spent and gasping for air, drained of his cum, she doesn’t mention it again. And he’s inevitably left thinking about it for days after, wondering if she meant it, or if she’s just playing on his kink to make the sex hot as fuck.

Even if she doesn’t bring it up during sex, the thought is on his mind every time he slides his cock inside of Katniss and watches her arch her back, her lips parting on that soft moan of hers as her eyes go hazy with need and her fingernails dig into his skin wherever she’s touching him. 

When she turns in one stellar finish after another on the race track, Peeta starts to lose track of how many times their post race celebrations involve the two of them jammed into some small space with their fire suits around their ankles and Peeta with a hand over her mouth to muffle her moans while he aggressively pistons his cock in her dripping wet pussy. He’s thinking about it even then, of course, when he knows that what turned her on has nothing to do with the possibility of another baby. 

Every time she holds him down and tells him he’s not allowed to come yet while she uses his body and his cock for her pleasure, riding him until she orgasms once, twice… until she tells him he can come, he’s thinking about it the whole time. And he can’t stop thinking about it whenever he’s moving above her, inside her, drinking down her breathy moans and desperately trying to get her there before he snaps.

They could be making a baby right now, he thinks as they make love, if he’d managed to stop thinking about it and tell her what he wants without fearing that she’s already changed her mind. The thought drives him wild every time.

They could be making a baby, he thinks as he thrusts into her and she cries out his name right before she orgasms, tipping him over the edge with her and sending him spiraling through his own release. If only he’d get over his fears and say the words.

That could’ve been their baby, he thinks as he pulls out of her while he’s still coming, just to watch his cum pooling between her glistening labia, shifting as her walls still quiver in aftershocks.

And once, when she rides him so beautifully that he actually comes before her, Katniss holds his wrists down over his head and sits on his face, demanding that he make her come with his mouth, Peeta almost turns away from her. Even though he fucking loves doing what she’s demanded, part of his mind rebels that time. Because that could be their baby. His cum slowly dripping from her lips onto his could be their baby and he wants one more so badly. In the end, though, the temptation of their mingled taste, the need to make Katniss orgasm is too much for him.

It’s the morning after one of those nights, when they fucked twice and made love once in between, and every time he came, Peeta was wishing he’d already said something because maybe that could’ve been their baby. He’s making the bed and staring at her as she walks through their room to the bathroom. Katniss sets her coffee on the counter. There’s a dark bruise on her neck from where he sucked and nipped at her last night while he was on top of her, inside of her, and she’d wrapped her legs and arms so tight around him, he could barely move. But she’d still cried out his name and left claw marks down his back when she came.

He watches her as she plucks the plastic case with her birth control pills from the drawer.

“Wait,” he says and she turns to him with a questioning look. “I want another.”

Peeta holds his breath, waiting for a few seconds and worried that he’s waited too long. Her smile is slow, but beautiful. 

“You want another? How much do you want another?” she asks him.

And the bed stays unmade a little longer, the pills left on the counter as they fuck fast and hard, trying to finish before their daughters wake up, Peeta whispering to her his pent up thoughts of the past few months. Ordering her to take every last inch of his cock.

And even though he knows it’s too soon, he still whispers to her that he’s going to fill her with so much of his cum that they’ll have another baby in no time at all. And four thrusts later, with her still writhing and whimpering in her own release, Peeta slams into her and comes with a strangled moan, his body screaming with the bliss of finally, finally maybe being able to fill her womb with their baby again.

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 22 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin! Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, teasing, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Hello everyone happy Sunday! I’m having a lot of fun writing about not one, but two vampires now🤭 Reader is a really challenging vampire so Elvis has his hands full with you🤭 Hope you like this little part. More to come shortly! Please comment, message, and reblog if you feel so inclined

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3 I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

One.

We’re one.

That word left you breathless and never thought it would be completely true. He made you his and you did the same. You feel like you’re on a cloud, floating aimlessly around him and this new world you had to discover. You continue to study every detail of him, some that you’ve never realized he had before. Like the way his sideburns curl at the ends by his ears. Or how his eyebrows had this fluffiness to them and perfectly framed his eyes. And the way his neck has this perfectly carved musculature to it that makes you want to lick all the way up to the part of his neck you bit before.

The feeling of his touch zaps you back to reality and you look back into his eyes. You’re still taken aback by the beautiful golden sparkling eyes that look back into yours. 

“How do you feel baby?” He coos. 

You had to pause and think about it. You weren’t accustomed to any of this and weren’t exactly sure what you should be feeling. 

“I think I’m okay, everything feels a little different but I feel perfectly fine so far,” you smile. 

“I know honey, you’ll need some getting used to it all but it’s okay. I’ll help you through it all,” he assures. 

Your thumb rubs against his smooth, flawless face. “How long was I….sleeping? I don’t know exactly what the right word is,” You ask. 

“Eight days. I-I-I don’t know why…I’ve never been so scared. I thought I did something wrong.” His voice trembles, pulling you tighter in his arms. 

You could feel this impending dread and anxiety in the pit of your stomach and consumed every ounce of your energy. But it wasn’t coming from you, you weren’t feeling like that at all. It was like being fed to you and amplified by a loudspeaker. 

You take a step back and look at him bewildered.

“What the hell was that?” You ask in shock.

“What was what?” He looks at you concerned.

“That feeling of impending doom, but I wasn’t the one creating that feeling. It was almost like it was being shown to me or something,” you stutter.

He puts his hands on your arms to calm you and he gives a small smirk at you.

“I think that’s just our bond. Our senses are heightened and attuned to one another more than ever now that we’re bonded. Remember how I told you I could feel your pain when Raphael took you? In some way, that was a small preview of what would happen to us after we were one. I didn’t know it would feel that intense to you I’m sorry about that,” he says sheepishly.

“No it’s okay, you don’t need to be sorry. It was just unexpected to feel an emotion that isn’t my own, you know?” You try to articulate.

“I get it, honey. I honestly am still trying to find more answers about what our new abilities hold,” he explains.

This was a world that even Elvis wasn’t accustomed to and that was a bit frightening. There was so much to discover.

“So you have no idea why I didn’t change right away?” You ask, rubbing circles with your thumb on his forearm, his skin feeling obsessional. The way it’s so soft and melted into yours without trying. You wanted to feel so much more of it. Starting with his back under this silk shirt he had on or feel those soft little hairs on his chest you loved so much. 

Jesus focus.

“No, I haven’t yet. None of the legends go into the details of what Chosen mates go through because they are so rare. God, I was so scared, I had no idea what had gone wrong or if this was completely normal.”

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that alone honey. I can’t believe I changed like this.”

“I know, you changed very slowly. First, with your heart slowing to an immortal pace. It was strange, it didn’t have that normal symphonic sound that I was used to hearing so much. Then your scars on your body healed and started to be covered by this beautiful glowing skin,” he says dreamily, dragging his finger ever so slowly down your neck and along the top of your breast. Your body can’t help but arch into that touch that leaves your skin aflame. He takes a deep breath and recomposes himself.

“Then you were very still, with no signs that you’d be waking up from this hibernation any time soon. I was like a caged animal, pacing the room all day and night worried sick I somehow did something terribly wrong to you. I called some friends, vampires, if they had heard about anything like this happening when the change was occurring and every answer I got was the same. They’d never heard anything like this and didn’t know a bonded mate existed anymore. ”

“On the fourth day, I looked at myself in the mirror, ready to be faced by the monster who ruined his Chosen mate and isn’t waking up for whatever reason. For the last fourteen years, I have been used to staring at the red, glowing, soulless eyes that I have been cursed with for quite some time now. I was shocked by every fiber of my being when I saw these glowing youthful eyes stare back at me instead. I was in shock and didn’t know what was happening to me.”

“Sometimes, I tried to wake you, calling your name and have you open your eyes for me, but to my disappointment, you never did. But I could hear your heart flutter at the sound of my voice so I’d talk to you, coaxing you through this all hoping you’d wake up faster. It gave me hope that you were still in there and just needed the time to change. I’d caress your face, feeling how perfect your face felt in my hand.”

As he’s explaining this all, you feel the worry come off of him and it hits you like a tornado. You try to brace yourself for such emotions coming your way but it's almost impossible.

“And the strangest thing happened a few days after that…” he mumbles.

“What do you mean?” You prod.

You chuckle a bit before starting to speak again, “Well, I was changing, physically. I don’t know why but, I was changing into my twenty-four-year-old self without me even thinking about it. It just came so naturally to me because well, that is what I look like under all this in reality. But I’ve always controlled how I look, it doesn’t just get out of hand and I hardly need to think about staying that physical appearance.”

“So I was walking around here worried sick about you, trying to alter my appearance again so you wouldn’t be so startled when you woke up and not be able to recognize me from the last time you saw me,” he chuckles.

“Oh honey, that’s so strange… I really wonder why that is. But I wouldn’t have minded waking up to you like that. Nevertheless handsome, I could never forget this perfect face,” you quip.

He slyly smirks, “thanks little darlin’,” he says low, his eyes staring at your pink lips. He makes a small grumble in his chest as wraps his arms around you once more. “We’ll get some answers soon, let me just hold you.”

His warmth engulfs you and this sense of comfort and longing fills the pit of your stomach. You sigh into him, savoring every last feeling he’s giving you. 

“You’re so warm,” you sigh into his chest. He hums delighted, squeezing you tighter before looking down at you.

“We’re the same body temperature now,” he murmurs.

“Oh… I didn’t even think of that,” you say embarrassed. “How do I feel? Any different than the last?” You ask cheekily.

“Hmm… I haven’t gotten to touch ya, let me see,” he coos.

He carefully unties the robe and slips his hands along the curve of your back. You let out a stifled breath and look up at him longingly. His hands travel down further til he fills his hands with your ass and squeezes it firmly. You claw at his biceps and you can’t help but want more from his talented hands. You feel all this desire come flowing out of him and barreling toward you. You feel like it's suffocating you and yet you can’t get enough of it. His hands move back up your back and squeeze at your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“You feel more perfect than ever,” he says as he stares at your breasts. He drags one of his hands up your torso til he can cup your breast and roll your nipple in between his fingers. A spark of electricity runs through you and you moan. You press your face into the crook of his neck and groan in agony. That delicious-smelling scent fills your head once again and makes you feel intoxicated. You groan heavily as you look at him, “what’s that smell?” You ask.

He places his hand back on your hip and throws you a confused look.

“Your senses are overwhelmed right now honey, it could be a number of things. What does it smell like to you baby?” He asks.

“It’s warm and sweet, almost like honey. But savory and delectable, like I can just take a bite out of it and be pleased beyond my wildest dreams,” you try to explain. He tries to hide his pompous smirk but you catch it anyway.

“What? What is that look for?” You press.

“Umm well darlin’, I think that’s me you’re smelling. That’s how you smell to me at least, all sweet and decadent. Like I could feed from that heavenly nectar and feel alive again,” he says low and sultry. 

God yes, he makes you feel just like that without even trying. He runs a finger down your neck again and you see how much he wants you.

It’s not only him you’re attracted to, it’s the scent of his blood drawing you to him, this invisible bond attached to the lust for blood coursing through your veins. It all makes you feel for Elvis when you two first met. How he explained to you he thought you were beautiful and the scent of you only put him over the edge of wanting you. That’s how you felt at this moment. You already loved this man so much but now, what you would give for a taste of him. In a flash, this immense wave of hunger consumed you and you looked up at him frightened, unsure of what to do. Your throat started to burn and your mouth watered by just the mere idea of blood.

Especially Elvis’.

Your memory was very murky when you tried to remember how he tasted when you bit him to complete the change. You remember it not tasting very good at first, then it turned into something delicious. 

“Oh baby, it’s okay, calm down. Let's get you something to drink alright?” He assures you, closing your robe up again, and ties it shut. He takes your hand to lead you downstairs to the kitchen but you stop him in his tracks by pulling slightly on his arm. You were a little shocked so little force actually stopped him. It was going to take some time to realize you’re just as strong as Elvis now. He looks at you a little surprised too and tries to lure you further out of the room by taking a few steps away.

“I want yours, right now,” you command, barely recognizing your voice right now with how demanding you sound. He lets out an intrigued grumble and feel him like that idea very much.

“Not right now honey, you have zero control and I’m almost sure you’d try to suck me dry,” he quips smartly. “For the first time, I’m the one with the great control, and not you. We have blood in the kitchen, come on honey,” he coaxes.

Your blood boiled not getting your way. It was very irrational, yes, but this new lust for blood made you feel very differently than you ever have. Your throat continued to burn and you huffed at Elvis and reluctantly followed him down to the kitchen. There was no one here and you could hear the waves crash on the shore from below. The wind whirled through the palm tree leaves and you could hear people playing on the shore of the beach.

He lets go of your hand and goes to the refrigerator. The middle shelf was stacked with blood bags and Elvis grabbed one off the top. Something about the notion of drinking blood this way for the first time made you feel queasy. Maybe the human part of you was still inside of you holding on for dear life. 

You look up at Elvis with the bag in his hand and going to grab a glass out of the cabinet. 

“Okay, baby we can do this one of two ways. Either I can pour this in a glass for you or, you can learn how to use your fangs. Which one do you prefer?” He taunts. 

Your fangs. 

Oh my God, how could you have forgotten you have fangs now? You couldn’t even begin to comprehend how to use them or even get them to descend. 

“Teach me how to use my fangs,” you say promptly. 

“Hmm, good girl,” he praises, “okay come here,” he says leading you to the table. He takes a seat on one of the chairs and has you stand in front of him. 

“You need to focus on your fangs and your fangs alone. Everyone is a little different but visualize them, picture your teeth becoming sharp and strong. Let that hunger you have drive them out,” he explains. 

You swallow and feel the thirst in your throat grow greater. You huff slightly in frustration and try to focus like he’s saying. You’ve never actually seen your fangs so it’s hard for you to visualize what they might look like. But you can only assume they look like Elvis’, long and sharp. 

You look at the blood bag in his hand and try to imagine how it’ll taste when you finally taste that blood. Your mouth waters just thinking about it and you think that’s a good sign your body is responding to it in a good way. 

“Breathe in through your nose, smell it. That helps a lot,” he says. 

You do just that and take a deep breath, trying to get the scent of the blood in your nose and get your newfound senses to work. You lick your lips and take more deep breaths, trying to pick up the scent. 

Warm and rich honey swirls in your head and you know what that smell is. 

You look up at him with hunger-filled eyes, grab onto his wrist, and try to pull him in but he anticipates the move. 

“I just smell you. Baby I want you,” you plead, every breath creating more hunger inside you. 

He smirks at you amused and shakes his head at you. 

“I know you do, but you don’t get to have mine just yet. You need to learn how to focus and use your senses properly,” he says smugly. 

You groan in protest, hating you're not getting your way. 

“Please, please let me honey. I’m starving,” you continue to plead. He presses his lips together to stop the laugh about to come out. 

“Is this how I sounded to you? So needy and hungry all the time? I’m so sorry darling to put you through that when you were human, that must have been awful to hear all the time,” he winks. 

“You fucking little tease,” you grumble, swallowing back the pain in your throat. 

“Oh come now honey, I’m just trying to help you. You need to focus or you’ll never get to drink my blood,” he pesters. 

You grumble, so annoyed with him and how he’s not letting you do what you want. You try to refocus on the bag and make your entire senses focus on what’s in there. You huff and groan at your thirst and take a deep breath in, closing your eyes to try and get your mind to focus on the bag. 

A delicious little whiff hits your nose that smells completely different from Elvis and you pop your eyes back to him. 

“I smell it,” you say hurriedly. 

“Good, now keep taking deep breaths and let your fangs descend. You can do it, honey,” he coaxes. 

You hiss as the burning in your throat worsens and the smell of the blood overwhelms you. You feel no change happening in your mouth and you’re beginning to get extremely frustrated. You were so hungry and this wasn’t easy like you thought. 

“Goddamn it this is impossible. I can’t do this. Just cut open the bag,” you growl at him.

Elvis lets out a small chuckle and sees how frustrated you’ve become. 

“Okay baby, seems like I need to give you a little more motivation hmm?” He smiles and brings his other wrist to his mouth. 

You watch as he nips at his skin and the whiff of his delectable scent consumes you and makes your eyes roll back. You watch as his blood slides down his arm in a small pebble. 

“Fucking hell are you kidding me?! You fucking tease! Please honey, please let me,” you beg, about to grab his wrist but he’s much quicker than you and pulls it away from you in time. You hate his crass behavior and growl, baring your teeth at him in anger. His mouth forms into a pleased smile watching you. 

“There’s my girl,” he whispers. Your brows furrow and don’t understand what he’s saying and are about to snap at him but your tongue grazes along your teeth. There you feel your razor-sharp fangs bared and ready to bite. You can’t help but be a little surprised by the feeling of them and look back at Elvis, then back to his arm. 

“Focus,” he snaps. “Focus on the bag,” he adds. 

You groan and shoot your eyes back at the bag in his hand and try your best to avoid looking at his blood rolling down his arm. 

You grab his hand with the bag in it and bring it closer to your face and can pinpoint the smell again. 

“Gently, take a bite on the bag. Not too harsh or you’ll make the bag burst open. I don’t want you to spill a drop,” he teases.  

You glare at him before looking back down and gently biting the bag. Your fangs are so sharp it didn’t take much pressure to make holes in it and the crimson fluid hit your tongue. You swallow it quickly and feel that burning in your throat reside slowly. It tasted good, not at all the same delectable smell Elvis had, but it would do. You start to squeeze the bag to let the blood flow quicker in your mouth and fill this hunger inside you. You can feel some of it dribble out of your mouth and onto your chin.

Shit. He’s not going to like that. 

But you were too hungry to care about the mess you’d make. You suck the last few drops out of the bag and do feel much better. Your throat wasn’t on fire anymore and you didn’t have this unquenchable thirst. But lord, Elvis’ blood still called out to you menacingly. 

You carefully take your teeth off the bag and look up at Elvis to see if he’d give you some of his. 

“How do you feel baby?” He asks quietly.  

“Better,” you say breathlessly, still eyeing his wrist. He looks down at his wrist too and looks back up at you with a glint of mischief in his eye. 

“Oh, you think you can have some of this now? Well, you didn’t exactly listen to my instructions,” he quips, motioning to your mouth and your chest. 

You look down and see you spilled more than you thought you did. You see a stream of it running down your chest and in between your breasts. 

You let out a frustrated sigh, “you’re no fun to make deals with!” You snap. 

“Too bad. You’ll learn to not make a mess eventually,” he teases, “as far as this mess, I’ll clean this up,” he says slowly. 

He pulls you in by your hips and makes you stand in between his legs. You hiss at his forceful touch, on absolute edge right now with his bleeding arm. He opens your robe slightly and looks up at you with a big grin on his face. In one long swipe, he licks the dribbling blood from your breasts to your chin. His tongue ignites something dangerous inside you and you groan in agony as every part of you feels hyper-sensitive. Your heart pounded away as he did this and made it all feel more erotic than he might have intended. You thought you liked his tongue before but nothing compares to how it feels now. You want so much more of him and it makes you feel insatiable.

He reaches your mouth and puts the most delicate kiss on your lips. You want to collapse in his arms as he grabs onto your hips tighter. You softly tug at his hair, moaning into his mouth, “more,” you whimper. 

He pulls away, “Still such a bad, bad girl. I don’t know how I’m going to handle all this newfound neediness,” he taunts. 

“Oh I’m sure you have a fucking list of things of how you’ll manage it,” you say annoyed, rolling your eyes at him. 

He chuckles softly, “Mhmm, you know me so well.”

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Tagging: @powerofelvis @burninlovebutler

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