#gives them as many orgasms as they want (some want dozens some want none) and learns every inch of them to know what makes them feel best

[quietwingsinthesky]

this is also about me needing to see lucifer call them ‘little brother/sister’ while they’re fucking im not weird im normal about him im normal about my angel ships

[solarmorrigan]

Okay, but imagine the absolute shit fit Eddie and Dustin would throw when it’s not either of them that finally manage to convince Steve to play D&D with them. It’s not Lucas, or Will, or even Erica, in all her terrifying, businesslike glory

It’s Mike fuckin’ Wheeler

Mike, who Steve has technically known longer than any of the other kids; who had never made a secret of when he’d thought Steve was a douchebag; who, even after Steve became de facto babysitter to the group and Mike could admit he didn’t entirely dislike him, had never quite warmed up to him the way the others had. Mike

Dustin has been on Steve’s case to join the game since they became friends, and Steve has said no every time. At first because it sounded complicated and boring and he had no interest, but later because he knows none of the other kids like him as much as Dustin does, and that’s fine, but he isn’t going to sit through something complicated and boring while a bunch of other kids glare at him

Sometime later, on one of the few nights neither Joyce nor Jonathan are available to pick Will up, and Steve is driving him home, Will mentions that it would be cool if Steve wanted to join in and play – since he has to schedule his nights around their games sometimes anyway, after all. Steve smiles and tells him thank you but no thank you. Will is kind, and patient to a fault, and Steve has no doubt Will would genuinely try to include him, but he doesn’t want anyone to feel like he should be invited as an obligation. He really doesn’t mind driving

After Steve starts playing basketball with Lucas, Lucas invites Steve in turn to play D&D with The Party. Steve turns him down, saying he’ll stick to what he’s good at. He wonders if maybe Lucas feels like they should do an exchange—Steve has given him some pointers on basketball, so maybe Lucas will give him pointers on D&D—but really, he’s happy spending his time playing with the kid. He doesn’t need to be offered anything else

Steve turns Eddie down flat no matter how much he wheedles, whines, or offers bribes of various favors and orgasms. He knows Eddie’s previous reputation, that he hasn’t been inclined to accept or be entirely patient with novices at the game in the past, so he’ll either sweep along as usual and leave Steve in the dust, or he’s planning to change his entire style to hold Steve’s hand and help him figure it out, probably to the detriment of everyone else’s enjoyment. Neither option is appealing

Erica asks Steve exactly once, telling him that the only way anyone is ever going to shut up about it is if Steve agrees to play. Steve tells her that, unfortunately, she’ll just have to continue putting up with their whining. She doesn’t seem happy, but she’s certainly not going to beg him to play, and that’s that

But then, one night, Mike watches the whole song and dance routine as Steve drops off Dustin, Lucas, and Erica; tells Dustin that no, he’s not going to stay tonight; kisses Eddie hello and also tells Eddie that no, he’s not going to stay tonight. Mike sighs loudly as Steve moves to head up the stairs and out of the basement

“Dude, we both know Eddie and Dustin have made, like, a dozen characters for you. Just pick one and play with us.”

And Steve stops

Because Mike has never pretended to like Steve. Mike has never pretended to like anyone. He’s jealously guarded membership into The Party, denying anyone he isn’t one hundred percent certain about. He’s about as protective over his nerd game as Eddie is (and as protective over his friends as Steve himself). And with no clear reason to, he’s asking Steve to join them

And Steve can’t help but admit that Mike may actually just want him to play – that maybe they all do (and maybe he sincerely does want to join them, even if it still sounds complicated and might still be boring; maybe he’ll just like spending time with them)

So he sits down and asks what the hell he’s supposed to be doing

(He’s never had so many people try to show him how to do something at once)

[neerdokells]

This New Life, Part 11

The next day, she went to work as Malcolm, and I focused on tending to the house. I didn't know what else to do; I didn’t really have any social plans, the laundry still needed to be washed and dried and put away, and the cat needed his food. The sudden rush of testosterone was hard for Portia to contain, and she was so horny by the time she got home that we skipped dinner entirely. We fucked in, and then again after, the shower the next morning, and my legs were so tired from the many orgasms she gave me that I didn't move again until lunch. Having sex with a man who knew my current body as intimately as she did certainly had its benefits, and I continued to enjoy those benefits into the weekend.

Come Sunday, however, I felt something new.

As a shapeshifter, I have a certain high level of awareness of everything my body does. I can feel the very blood flowing through my body if I choose to, and always know when something changes, unless my mind is fully brainwashed into some kind of haze. As such, I knew where the change was, and I knew it was tiny, but it took me a little bit of introspection to figure out what it was. Portia was sitting at the table, having made breakfast for us, when I sat down and rested my arms on the table.

“Honey, we need to talk,” I said.

“I suddenly understand why men get afraid when women say that.”

���Oh, yeah, it's terrifying. Sorry.”

“What do we need to talk about? Is it the sex? I'm sorry if it's too much too soon, I may have gotten carried away.”

“It is…not entirely not about the sex.”

“Please just tell me.”

“I'm pregnant.”

She set her fork down and stared at me. “How?”

“Well, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much–”

She threw a piece of toast at me. “You were railed by every man in that fetish club for a week straight, you had Brutus mount you on half a dozen different encounters and he never finished less than three times in you at a shot, and Lord knows how many times Malcolm came in you! How are you only pregnant now?”

“I think, well, okay. I think, and this is speculation, that when I was living as a sex slave, the need to maintain my form perfectly at all times prevented me from being fertile. Like, none of my forms could be changed by something like pregnancy, only the will of my owners; so I just couldn't get pregnant. But now I'm you, and there isn't, you know, pressure to be a perfect little sex bunny forever. I'm supposed to pass as a person whose body CAN change through natural processes.”

“And…oh my God, you haven't been taking my birth control pills! And didn't already have some in your system, either.”

“You didn't tell me about them when we took these forms.”

“Okay. This is…I mean, this is exciting, I'm gonna be a mother! Or father. We always wanted to, but the timing, and, no, wait. We can't stop this charade while you're pregnant, can we? What happens to the baby if you change form?”

“I don't know. I also don't know that it's technically a baby yet. A zygote? It only just did that thing where it attaches this morning.”

‘Wait. How do you know, then?”

“Shapeshifters know their bodies, I guess.”

“That checks out.” We sat in silence for a couple minutes. “Is it…I mean, is it OUR baby, or, because of our forms, is it me and Malcolm’s baby?”

“I don't know! This shapeshifter thing didn't come with an instruction manual, and I don’t know who I would even ask at this point, without other fairies around.”

“The genie that changed you seemed to know about fairies. And magic, in general, from what you said.”

“Yeah, but he doesn't now.”

“But maybe other genies do. Can you magic up a way to find one?”

“And do what? Wish for answers?”

“You said genies can't be bound to you, since you're a fairy. Maybe that gives you a chance to talk to them. But, first thing is finding one.”

“Well, I can sense the difference between fairy magic and genie magic. Maybe I can focus on finding a source of genie magic.”

“You work on that. I'll clean up.”

I went out to the garden, where I sat in the dirt and meditated. I wasn't sure how to do what I was trying to do, but I found that connection to nature has always been helpful, and I figured it would take some focus. So I meditated, and reached out, trying to sense any trace of a genie’s magic. If Yakov was right, and no other genies had awoken in decades, then any active source should be a genie itself.

It took a while, but I finally got a ping. I focused on that point, seeking clarity, and eventually got what I needed: a distance and a direction. I ran back into the house, opened a map online, and used that information to highlight a state forest.

“The GPS says that's a five hour trip, one way,” Portia said when I showed her. “It's doable, but not tonight.”

“So what do we do?”

“We'll plan for next weekend. I think I can get out of the office a little early on Friday. I'll pick you up, we'll drive there, crash at a hotel, and go looking for this genie on Saturday. If it takes a while, we'll still have Sunday, as long as we leave early enough to get back that night.”

“What about Master?” I paused.

“You still–right, I told you to change how you refer to me, not him. Doesn't matter. I'll make some kind of arrangements for him, but we can't risk changing him back before we have our answers and know he's learned his lesson.”

“Charlie wanted to set up a ‘play date’ with me and Brutus.”

“I think I can get to the store and talk to him before he closes up for the night. You find us a hotel for Friday and Saturday nights.” She put on her shoes, then paused in the doorway. “Get a nice one! Might as well enjoy our weekend getaway.”

[siiinfully]

continued from this with @kingdom-of-vanity

She didn’t have to ask him twice. He’s been having all sorts of dreams about her, since the first time they met, and now he wasn’t about to waste time. If this was a dream too then he never wanted to wake up from it. Cahir thrust up inside her, grunting loudly, not giving a toss about it whether his men heard them or not. He’s imagined this moment so many times, fantasized about it, but none of his dreams were as vivid and sensual like the reality. He shushed the princess with a passionate kiss, while he began to pound hard against her, feeling the warmth and tightness of her cunt. “You’re mine now, no one else’s.” Cahir said on a hoarse and shaky voice as he looked her in the eyes. Those mesmerizing eyes, which never left his memory. Cahir pressed her hard against the wall for the moment he ripped her corset apart, before he lowered his head and kissed her bosoms all over, while his thrusts became way stronger and faster than before. No matter who she may have been with in the past, nor the ones he’s been with, he wanted this wild lovemaking to create a new start for them, where they’d only have each other and no one else. It continued to rain heavily, but he couldn’t care less about it, when he had the girl’s warm body in his grasp. He held his eyes for some time on her bouncing round breasts, then firmly gripped onto her left thigh and her shoulder with his other hand so that he could pull himself inside her as deep as it was physically possible. His moaning and grunting became louder, by each sped up thrust, till he reached his orgasm and came deep inside the princess, letting out shaky moans, while he was still giving her a few deep thrusts.  

+++

She was panting along with him, her moans of his name mixing with their noises of carnal pleasure. Ciri kept her gaze on him, her eyes widening a little when she realized that he had come before her, his load spurting deep in her and possibly seeding her. None of that mattered, however, as she had no plans of being with someone else. Whether they fought fiercely or got along well, she knew that Cahir would be the only man for her. The uncertainty she’d felt before was replaced by a surety she couldn’t explain, and after they had formed a more united empire that stretched from Cintra all the way to Nilfgaard, their fates felt closely entwined. Ciri gasped as he continued to thrust in and out of her, and it was those continuous motions that coaxed her to her orgasm, a sexual peak that had her cling to him, pull him and hold him tight to her body as she was racked with shudders, her juices mixing with his and dripping out of her each time he pulled out. As her body relaxed, the weaker she started to feel, but his hold on her kept her from falling to the ground as the effects of her release started to wane. Both of their bodies were wet from the rain, and her pale blonde hair was plastered to her skin, looking like dozens of thin serpents coming out of her head. Instead of letting go, she tried to lift her other leg so that she could wrap it around his waist, all while keeping his member fully sheathed inside of her, snug and warm and away from the chill settling in her bones. Even if he told her to let go, she had no plans to, and her burying her face on the side of his neck might have further emphasized that.

[yinses]

he reminds your ex who you belong to

gojo satoru ft. f! reader + exhibition ( technically phone sex ¿) + some hair pulling + unprotected sex  wc: 2.3k

a/n: trying to get better with my tagging. i realize the community has it’s own sensitivities and i often fall short on that thought. i still owe some prompts and a few other asks but this has been siting in my drafts for a few weeks and i finally finished it up. 

it never fails to come as an interruption in your life, the shrill call of your phone blaring at inopportune times. each one conveniently impeding on time with gojo.  

your boyfriend of four months would give you that tight smile, blue eyes swimming with annoyance, but never concern. because not once did you pick up the call, always reaching out blindly to silence it without even acknowledging the accompanying messages. 

the number changes, but you learned not to accept any call from one you didn’t recognize. important communications were typically followed by voicemail and that was how you dealt with that. but the duration was becoming more tedious than either of you imagined, reaching above the white noise decibel it had been reduced to. 

“maybe i should just change my number, “ you suggest forlornly. it would ensure that he had no way to contact you freely, but it would also force you to reestablish connections with all your friends and family. it seemed like an extreme measure but when push came to shove. 

only a few moments pass before the phone picks up again, hammering down the final nail in your resolve. 

“i think you should answer.”

gojo’s unexpected intervention comes from the edge of the bed where he flips the said phone carefully from one palm to the next. his fingers brush past the two blinking options just short of selecting. 

you shift from foot to foot, not sure how to accept that response. gojo was as irritated as you were but you didn’t expect him to cave first. 

frowning, you shake your head. “i’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“why not?” his gaze sweeps over your face, somewhat amused by your discomfort. there is a swirl of mischief alight in those bright blue eyes.  “apparently he needs a little more than a simple no.”

he holds out the device, voice taunting but firm.

“if you don’t answer you’ll miss the call.”

as if there wouldn't be a dozen more to follow. 

your mouth feels dry, hand heavy with the weight of decision. it wasn’t as though you couldn't deal with the situation, so much as if you were prepared to. ignoring had been the more appealing option over confrontation but perhaps it had been your hesitation that had been the problem all along. ultimately your thumb taps to accept the call. 

“hello?”

‘baby, i’ve been trying to reach you for ages.’

the bed creaks but you’re too focused breathing evenly to notice. you weren’t familiar with the etiquette of many break ups, which was why this one was the hardest. it had been a long love that had followed you into the early years of adulthood before spark began to fizzle out. 

“i just answered to tell you to stop calling. i’ve already blocked your number once.”

the attempt to revive the romance before it all fell apart had been one-sided. he’d been quicker to discover other fish in the sea before you had. it seemed as though in your patience, you’d found something better while he spent his time chasing minnows without satisfaction. 

‘yes, but you didn’t give me the chance to explain. we don’t have to be over.’

you should have seen it coming. 

your shoulders tense at the press of his lips at your neck. gojo had a propensity for creating opportunities out of every little divot in life. he lived the role of a jester but held the mind of a genius. gojo had been kind in biting his lip to bare down on the jealousy simmering down beneath.

he gives you a brief grace period as his slender fingers tap the mute button then his lips return to your ear. “if you want this, get onto the bed and place the phone above your head with the speaker on.”

an immediate protest flies to your lips but doesn’t quite make it to fruition. what he’s suggestion goes beyond sexual barriers you’d set up thus far. gojo had a knack for pushing them and helping you discover new fantasies and hidden pleasures. 

at the first hint of a pout against your throat, you cave. 

so weak for him.

your ex seems none the wiser to the hitch in your voice as you press one knee to the bed, then the other before carefully rolling onto your back. swallowing the waning confidence before it leaks from your body, you seal the deal by placing the phone just above your head after activating the speaker. 

“good girl.” the words come whispered for your benefit as gojo crawls onto the bed. as if his intentions weren’t already clear enough, the prominent hardness in his pants as he slots between your legs is. you can’t help but grow dizzy at the thought of your premeditated actions, all while your thighs tighten around his form. 

his hands warm the shivers from your sides as he slides up your shirt and kisses down your navel. gojo delivers a sharp nip just before muttering a brisk,” unmute.” in reminder. 

the command comes just in time for your expected response though you’re no more prepared to deliver when gojo unbuttons your pants and works them over your hips. 

‘maybe if we could just meet somewhere?’

the sincerity coupled with your actions makes it all feel more one-sided with you playing the role of the villain. he’d been an ass, yes, but surely he didn’t deserve this. 

right?

“it doesn’t matter, were-mmph.” no part of you expected gojo to play this fairly. you choke on the response when his tongue licks a firm swipe against the fabric of your panties. 

‘what does not matter? speak to me. lets talk this out.”

funny how he chose now of all times to acknowledge the issues you had and attempted to resolve in the past. 

gojo words feel condescending as he mimics what’s heard against your cunt. there was no doubt in your mind that he’d completely written off your ex from the beginning. the same confidence from your first date dripped from his touch as he worked down the fabric from your hips. 

not once did he promise to watch his volume as he sloppily wets his fingers. he’s is ruthless as he plunged in two in on the first thrust, palm curling up to rub friction against your clit. any other time you would have revealed in his ability to make you come apart so easily, now you were more embarrassed by how much easier you felt. 

‘is this a bad time? you seem distracted.’

every time was a bad time. that was the point. 

gojo’s tongue wet the inside of your thigh, “don’t let him hang up. you want this to be his last call, remember.”

at this rate he was going to make this your last waking moment. 

somewhere between a squeak and a whimper, you managed to form words against the friction of gojo’s touch sliding in and out. “no, let’s just-i- yeah, no, we should talk it out now. i’m tired of going back and forth.”

the line pauses briefly. and you almost hope for a second he reaches clarity and saves you from the embarrassment. ‘alright then. are you really not willing to give it another shot?’

your groan of arousal is disguised by disappointment but the opposite warms gojo’s breath against your damp skin. “i didn’t realize you were dating such an idiot. how can he be so dense.” his lips smack, shiny with your stimulation.” you must just really have a thing for pretty faces, willing to look past so much.”

you were willing to look past his deviousness right now, ready to let him desecrate you over the phone like this.

“you’re pretty, toru.” you try to jab but are countered with the addition of a third finger as he starts a relently pace. the sounds are so dirty, reckless suckling sounds that had to carry. gojo made sure of it as he twisted his wrist in retaliation over every shift of your hips. 

“i am much prettier than they guy. much better at a lot,” he enunciates sharp smack to your thigh. 

then he curls just right and you turn for face into the phone and keen.

‘seriously what is going on you sound- strained.’

gojo’s chuckle vibrates within you. “poor guys don't even know what you sound like on the verge of an orgasm.”

your voice is impossibly hoarse and not very convincing as you choke out,” i’m fine. n-no look … i only answered because i wanted us to-fuck-no sorry.” gojo wasn’t making this easy. “- wanted us to reach some closure and move on.”

gojo pulls out just short of your building orgasm and you gasp breathy at the loss. 

‘we were together for two years. surely that amounts to more than just moving on.’

it did. way back when the unexpected break up had torn your hearts to shreds. the misunderstanding and lost connections had eaten you out from the inside. left you failing in the unknowns of what you did wrong and why he wanted to slow down your progress.

now it all seems insignificant in comparison the sight of your current boyfriend slowly fisting his cock. 

‘you wanted to use the break to decide if you were ready for a future together and i think we both realized that we weren't-”

gojo had chosen the right moment to intervene in your life and the moment at the head of his cock pushes through the first ring. he follows through in one motion, filling you to hilt as his hand reaches up to fist the short of your hair. 

‘baby, no one knows you like i do.’

the sharp sting of his fist clenching as he hips rock back is the last warning you get before he slams back in. there was more to the familiar precision as he ruts into you. gojo was the better man, but even he felt short to the green-eyed-monster. 

he was relentless with his pace, fucking into you harder with each new whimper you give up. your consciousness is a fleeting cloud, wafting high out of your reach as your mouth opens up to sharp cries. 

‘are you working out right now? your words sound broken.’

gojo’s hand presses into the curve of your back as he leaves over you. “fuck, you should just tell him. get this over with. let him know that you belong to someone else now. someone who is currently fucking you better than he ever could.”

your protests mirror your resolve and you can already feel your lips forming those exact words before you catch yourself. “i-i cant.” that was too much, right?

gojo didn’t seem to think so. he suddenly pulled out just enough to turn you over, hand still holding your hair hostage as he pushed your face into the mattress effectively ruining your ability to speak properly. 

“tell him, or i will. and i’ll add in every dirty little thing we’ve done leading up to this moment. you don’t belong to him anymore and he should know it. properly.”

‘hey, should i just come over?’ comes that voice again, a constant glutton for punishment.

“no!” you cry out. “i-we can’t- i’m.”

gojo decides to help you out. no longer willing to be a spectator as if he could be called such. “fuck, baby. make those pretty noises for me.”

‘is that someone else? are you with someone right now.’

gojo snatches up the opportunity, hand curling around the phone to place it against the tacky sweat accumulating against the skin between your shoulder blades. you can feel it teetering with each jerk of your body. 

“yeah, she is. apparently she needs help getting her point across. if she wants to contact you  she will do so on her terms. “ he huffs peevishly,“ until then fuck off or you can listen to me fuck her doesn’t matter to me.”

his commanding tone shouldn’t sound so hot. you can’t help but moan as he hits that spot just right. 

a high pitched ‘what the fuck’ grates unpleasantly against the mood you’re so desperate to build to its peak. 

“i take it back, hearing you screech is going to make me go soft. don’t call again.”

‘wait don’t-’ his protest comes a moment too late for gojo’s waning patient as he abruptly cuts off the call and flings the phone somewhere above your head. 

“I imagined that going much smoother in my head,” grunts as he picks up the pace.

your mouth falls open but nothing comes out. you’re unable to blink past the flood of light as you melt into the roll of his hips. there is nothing left for you to do but squeeze around him as you absorb each thrust. 

“i don’t know what i was expecting thinking you could form coherent sentences when i fuck you stupid like this.” his voice is markedly softer now, still agitated but gentler in his touch as he loosens his grip. your head turns without instruction, eagerly catching his mouth in a sloppy kiss. 

the tell tale tremble shudders from one end to the next as you dig your knees into the mattress and gyrate your hips. the angle rewards you with an opportunity to ride his cock straight into nirvana. gojo comes to shatter the already broken cry of release by manipulating speed and precision while you chant his name all the way over the edge. 

his breath comes in short rasps as he follows you over, body drawn up taut as his orgasm washes over.  

gojo’s weight is unforgiving, but thankfully brief when he collapses on top of you before rolling onto his side. he gathers you into his arms and rolls you in against his chest. his fingers chase yours and he brings them to his lips to kiss each one. 

“maybe you should have just gone with your idea and changed numbers.”

somehow you find the air to laugh as your head falls back against his sweaty shoulder. he shares your humor, smile sharp with a new prospect.

“or perhaps we can try again? maybe repeated exposure will do the trick.”

[hoboal87]

Don’t Speak, Part 2

Title: Don’t Speak, Part 2

Pairings: au!Dark!John x Reader, au!Dark!Sam x Reader, au!Dark!Sam x Reader x au!Dark!Dean, Sam x Dean

Word Count: 2.1k+

Summary: Y/N’s nightmare is only just beginning.

Warnings: Non-Con/Rape, angst, daddy kink, breeding kink, Wincest, forced orgasms, forced voyeurism, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, knife play, breath play, humiliation, hints of Stockholm Syndrome.

A/N: I have embraced the darkness! I’d like to thank @cockslut-padalecki and @negans-lucille-tblr for encouraging me to write outside my comfort zone and the product is this filth.

A/N 2: This is more plot than I intended, but there is plenty of smut! 18+ only

TW: Non-Con/Rape - There is nothing about this that is consensual in any way. Please, READ THE WARNINGS AND DO NOT READ if you feel that it will offend and/or trigger you. Don’t like? Feel free to move along.

No Beta all mistakes are mine. (I still have tense issues, I’m aware.)

My Full Masterlist

Part One

The eldest Winchester wasn't lying, and a small part of you is glad that Sam and Dean had taken you first. John is as long as Sam and as thick as Dean, and every pump of his cock feels like it's splitting you in half. John releases you completely from your bindings and you use what strength you can to fight back against him. You claw at him, but he doesn't stop, if anything, he seems to enjoy the struggle you're putting up.

"That's it darlin’," he whispers, but there’s no sincerity behind his words. “The more you fight, the longer I’m gonna hold off. Maybe let the boys have a go at you again,” he smirks.

He turns your head so that Sam and Dean are back in your line of sight. Neither of them are paying any attention to your or their father, instead, Dean has Sam bent over a chaise, and all you can make out are their grunts as Dean’s hips slam against Sam’s ass.

Your eyes widen in horror at the sight of the brothers, John chuckles, and when you try to turn away, his hand slaps across your face.

“I didn’t tell you that you could look away, did I, darlin’?” He scolds you, pulling his cock out and maneuvering you onto your stomach. “What was that?” He asks, keeping one hand firmly on your face, forcing you to continue watching the brothers.

“N-no,” you squeak as he impales you on his hard cock again.

“No, what, darlin’?” He leans forward, his breath hot on your cheek.

“No, sir.” You whimper, but it was clearly not what John wanted to hear, as his free hand moved around your neck, cutting off your air supply, all the while, you can feel the coil tightening once again. It’s humiliating; how many times you’ve come no matter how hard you fight against your body, the Winchesters are relentlessly ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you. He squeezes tighter, and you wrack your brain trying to think of what he wants to hear.

“D-daddy,” you murmur, your eyes never leaving Sam and Dean. John removes his hands from your face and neck, and instead cages you underneath him.

“That’s right, darlin’, I’m your daddy now,” he licks your ear, and a shiver runs through you. He lifts your hips, and forces you to spread your legs as far as you can. All the while keeping his fast and brutal pace. “Keep watching my boys, see how special their love is.”

Even with your obscured vision, you can see Dean snaking his hand underneath Sam’s hips. Sam lets out low fuck, and from what you saw you earlier you can assume that Dean is stroking his cock.

You don’t move and try not to make any sounds at all. John, like his sons, enjoyed the fight, and you try to save some of your dignity by not giving into them so easily.

Your body goes limp as John continues thrusting, grunting and groaning as you hope he’s nearing his own completion. You close your eyes briefly, but a sharp sting of John’s palm lands on your ass, causes you to open them and focus on the brothers.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean groans. His arm moves faster, and Sam whines, arching back, so that he is flush against Dean’s chest. You get a full view of Sam’s cock, covered mostly by Dean’s hand.

“Keep watching,” John orders as his hips begin to stutter.

“Dean,” Sam whines as ropes of cum land on the chaise, and Dean gives a half-dozen thrusts before stilling.

John holds himself deep inside you, seemingly cumming over and over again inside you, and you can feel it leaking out of you when he pulls away. As he did when he first entered the room, he chuckles at the sight, and you feel his fingers brush against your abused pussy.

You fear John will scope up the remnants and force you to swallow his juices as he did before, but instead he pushes them back into your cunt.

“Can’t waste Daddy’s cum, Y/N,” he tsks, “how else are we gonna put a son in you?” John grabs a corner of the silk sheets, and wipes off his cock, his eyes never leaving you as you remain frozen. “Clean her up and dress her,” John orders as he pulls on his trousers, Sam and Dean stepping up behind him. “Our carriage arrives in an hour.”

“Yes, sir,” the brothers answer in unison.

“See if one of the whores downstairs can do something about her face. Don’t want the priest to get the wrong idea,” John lets out a low, breathy chuckle. “And make a decision about which one of you is gonna marry the slut.”

“Sir,” Dean steps forward. “We were thinking–”

“No,” John hisses seemingly knowing what the unasked question is going to be. “The deal was I let you and your brother fuck around, on the condition that one of you gets a wife and produces an heir.” The thought of any of the men putting a child in you makes your stomach turn, and you can’t help but vomit at the thought. None of the Winchesters seem to notice, or if they do, they don’t care.

“A crueler father would’ve found you a bride the minute you were eligible,” John continues, only stopping to give you a momentary glance. “People back home are starting to question why neither of you have married yet. I don’t care which one of you takes the bitch on, or who the child belongs to, one of you is getting married before we leave London. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean answers for both brothers.

John finishes redressing, and stalks away. The brothers share a cursory glance, before moving towards you. You flinch at their touches, even though they are softer and more delicate than before. You curl into yourself, helpless to do anything.

Your wrists are bruised where you were once bound, your pussy throbs from the multiple intrusions, and to your embarrassment, you’re still leaking John’s cum.

Dean disappears for a moment, and you watch as Sam's eyes roam your body, like you're a piece of meat, and he’s as hungry as he was before. You try to cover yourself, not that it really mattered, the brothers had already seen more of you than you had of yourself.

You bring your knees to your chest, and wrap your arms around them, foolishly thinking that it could deter either brother from taking you again.

Dean appears with a modest dress, it wasn’t the one you had worn to the party, but you figured they’d ripped it apart while you were unconscious. Dean hands the dress off to Sam, and instructs him to help you dress while he finds someone to work on the state of your hair and face. Sam huffs at the order, but complies, pulling Dean into a raw and passionate kiss.

Dean mumbles something about later, and leaves you and Sam alone in the strange bedchamber. Sam grabs at your ankles, and though you know you have little to no chance of being able to fight him off, you throw all of your weight into your free leg aiming for his gut.

You feel the sole of your foot connect with his trim and taut stomach, and Sam doubles over. You take the opportunity to make for the doorway, modesty be damned, you needed to get away from the Winchesters before you forcibly married into their family and made nothing more than a broodmare.

Each step you take is like walking on needles, but you push through the pain as best you can, screaming out for help. The door’s nearly within your reach when everything goes black.

You wake up in the restraints again, now with Sam leaning over your body, the silver blade that was once in Dean’s possession now sliding across your chest.

“Bad idea, Y/N,” Sam grumbles, and you pull against your bindings. “Gonna have to teach you a lesson now.” Sam puts more pressure on the blade, enough to draw blood, and most likely scar your body. You wince as he continues, holding back your tears as long as you can, until he begins rutting against you, his cock getting hard through his trousers as he rubs against your naked pussy.

He slides his trousers down, just enough to expose his hardening cock, and you attempt to bring your legs together, trying to do something– anything to keep him from fucking you again. Sam brings the blade to your neck, and he doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand what will happen if you don’t cooperate.

“Lucky you're still filled with my father’s cum,” he says softly, “won’t have to get you ready for me.”

You let out a silent scream as Sam pushes inside. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, instead, he starts moving in long and hard thrusts, unlike before, where the brothers were getting amusement out of your unwanted arousal, this was Sam’s way of showing you that he was in complete control.

Sam grunts over you, and brings his head down to where he had drawn blood just minutes before, and laps up at the crimson liquid. He places bruising kisses upon your lips, and gnaws at your shoulders, breaking the skin.

“You’ll make such a good wife, Y/N,” he murmurs in your ear, as if you are supposed to take it as a compliment. “Once Dean and I fuck the disobedience out of you, you’ll be perfect,” Sam pants over you, and you swallow thickly at his words. “Can’t wait to see you round with our son.”

Bile fills your throat again at the mention of being forced to carry a child that you do not want. Treacherous tears leave your eyes before you can stop them, and you focus your gaze on the ceiling, hoping and praying that Sam will finish soon.

“Just couldn’t resist taking her again, couldja Sammy?” Dean’s voice fills the bedroom again. “I guess this means she’ll be Mrs. Sam Winchester,” Dean approaches the bed, and sits on the edge.

He watches intently as Sam continues to abuse your cunt before moving behind you. Sam stops as Dean situates himself behind you, propping you against him. The atmosphere changes, and you realize that Sam is no longer the one in charge, Dean is.

“Sammy being good to you, sweetheart?” He murmurs into your ear, and when you don’t respond Dean tuts at Sam. “Let her cum, Sammy.”

“She tried to leave,” Sam argues, and Dean lets his hands roam over your body.

“Leave? Bad idea, sweetheart,” one of Dean’s hands cups your breast, while the other makes it way down your stomach, and reaches your swollen bud.

You moan unwillingly when Dean begins toying with you, building an orgasm, that you hate to admit you want. Sam’s thrusts become more deliberate, now that Dean’s here, Sam seems to want to please him by making you cum on his cock.

You can feel Dean hardening beneath you, but he makes no effort to use you for his own pleasure.

Sam leans over you, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you, but instead, he presses his lips against Deans. Though you’re practically face-to-face, Sam’s focus is no longer on you, but on his brother.

Dean continues to swipe at your bundle of nerves, and when he commands it, you cum hard, coating Sam’s cock with your arousal.

Everything after that is a blur, you remember the brothers dressing you, a woman entering and making you look “presentable,” before quickly leaving. You’re led to a room where John and a priest stand quietly.

You tried to protest, but John explained to the priest that you’d been ill, and that your parents had already given their blessing for you to marry. The priest bought the story, not that it surprised you, a woman’s word held nothing over a man’s.

John reached over to hug you, a seemingly loving gesture to anyone unaware of his true nature. He not-so-subtly reminded you that you no longer were a lady of the court, but you’d be the property of him and his sons. You nod, the only thing you can do, and smile slightly, and whispers of good girl, fill your ears as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

A few hours later, you’re boarding a ship bound for America, a trip that would take no less than a month. The Queen must’ve given the Winchesters more money than you could ever imagine, as the four of you were the only passengers. You’re greeted by a dark-haired, blue-eyed man.

“Ma’am,” he bows his head slightly, and whether it be intentional or not, reminds you of your new role.

Mrs. Winchester.

Forever Tags

Part Three

Please, please, let me know what you think via ask or reblog!

@akshi8278

@that-one-gay-girl

@supraveng​

@coldmuffinbanditshoe​

@stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​

@hamildork​

@screechingartisancashbailiff​

@flamencodiva​

@lyarr24​

@slamminmine

Don’t Speak Tags

@negans-lucille-tblr

[xmyshya]

Mint & Chocolate

summary: Atsumu takes you out for a day. genre: fluff, crack warnings: Atsumu being Atsumu, really cheesy, one adult joke a/n: Something to heal your broken souls after the previous one, hehe wc: 2.1k

It’s not often that you’re surrounded by not one, but three absolutely smoking men. It’s not often, because two of them are successful volleyball players, and the third one is a renowned restaurant owner. Nevertheless, even a few years after finishing high school, you still keep in touch with your best friends and meet regularly to reminisce about those carefree days. None of you is particularly sentimental, but maybe it’s just one shot too many, because Suna throws

“What’s one thing that you guys regret not doing in high school?”

And the answer isn’t simple at all. After all, it lasts only 3 years. 3 years filled with classes, exams, planning the future, club activities, nationals, successes and failures. 3 years of being suspended between “too young” and “too old”, “too cool” and “who the hell cares”. Yet, there is a thought forming in your head.

“Okay, I know it’s real cheesy, but please don’t laugh, ‘kay?”

They promise not to.

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

You’re brutally woken up, on a beautiful Saturday morning, by a furiously ringing doorbell. It’s only 9 am and you’re already mad, growling “coming!” at the abuse of a poor button outside of your apartment. Ready to scream when you swing the door open, you’re met with

“WHOA, who the hell are ya?!”

You blink once, then twice, and Atsumu Miya is still at your doorstep, apparently very much amused about your disheveled look. What did he expect, really.

“Do ya have plans for today? No? Good. Now get dressed, I’ll wait.”

And there he is, walking past you and sliding his shoes off. Before you register what has just happened, he’s already comfy on your sofa.

“Tick tock, sleeping beauty. Wear somethin’ comfortable!”

Normally, you’re not that obedient. You’re just surprised, that’s all. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself when you blowdry your hair in a hurry, when you brush your teeth in a hurry, and when you put on your favourite pair of jeans and the softest t-shirt you can find. Also in a hurry.

“Looks good, lessgo!”

He slaps his thighs and lifts off the furniture when you finally walk out of your bedroom.

“Can ya at least tell me where we’re goin’?”

There it is. The famous Miya squint, condescending and arrogant, as he looks at you from above. Jerk.

“Nah.”

It’s immediately replaced with his brightest, boyish smile. Adorable jerk.

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

“Ya hungry?”

Now that you think of it… You haven’t had breakfast yet. The loud growl of your stomach answers for you, to which Atsumu drops a paper bag on your lap, his eyes never leaving the road as he drives god knows where.

“A got ‘em for ya from ‘Samu. Just don’t make a mess, will ya?”

For a moment you contemplate punching the guy.

By some miracle, onigiri inside is still warm enough to release some steam upon opening the bag, and it’s enough to make an unholy amount of saliva gather in your mouth. Honestly, the younger twin’s triangular balls of rice were an ambrosia. Each bite brought you closer to nirvana, grains of perfectly cooked rice massaging your tongue, and fillings exploding with a harmonious fusion of flavours. The blonde next to you smiles to himself when he sees your expression of pure delight, as you melt into a passenger seat. After a feast like this, all sins are forgiven, all anger cleansed, all spirits lifted.

“Gotta tell ‘Samu this is a foodgasm.” “A what?” “Foodgasm? As in… food so good that your tongue is getting an orgasm?” “Oh, I can give ya an orgasm on yer tongue, if ya want.”

You do punch the guy after all.

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

“‘Kay princess, we here.”

Atsumu parks his car among dozens of other vehicles.

“Here? Why are we-” “Didntcha say ya wanted to do this?” “Well, yeah, but-” “No but. C’mon, we got stuff to do.”

You’re still tossing between excitement, embarrassment and surprise, while being pulled through the gate, a colourful band wrapped around your wrist.

“Let’s go there first!”

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

By any means, you’re not a coward. You just don’t like scary things. He should know that. So why are you now following his footsteps in this dark, creepy haunted house? “It’s for kids, it can’t be that bad” is played in your head like a mantra, but does it help? Absolutely not. So you crumple a handful of his t-shirt, seeking comfort in this brittle connection.

“Is someone scared?”

His voice echoes in the darkness, teasing and boisterous.

“O-of course n-not! Unless it’s you!” “No worries! A’ll protect ya!”

And he pulls you closer, one arm around your shoulders. Hanging spiderwebs tickling your foreheads, and mechanical dolls laughing hysterically don’t feel so terrifying anymore. That is, until one of the dolls, not as mechanical as you thought it to be, chases you through the corridors. You have no idea which one of you is screeching louder.

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

One of the adjectives that come to mind immediately when you think of the older Miya is competitive. It’s painfully obvious on court, it’s painfully obvious in his interactions with others, and it’s painfully obvious when his next choice of entertainment is… go-karts race. Which is also hilarious, considering how this huge and beefy volleyball player tries to fit into a tiny (in comparison) car and you half expect it to be crushed between his thighs. Just this sight alone makes it worthy being pulled out of your slumber.

“Hurry up or I win by default.”

His grumbling makes you cackle even louder.

Trying to get this small machine to work as you wish for it to, reminds you exactly why you don’t have a license. You’re uncoordinated, and having to pedal, to watch where the track leads, and to react accordingly is, putting it simply, too much. It starts to be irritating, when you bump into the other vehicle for the fourth time. “He won’t let it slide,” you think, and he really doesn’t.

“Oi, Y/N, are ya planning to kill me or sumthin’?” “Shut up, stupid ‘Tsumu!”

The blonde laughs heartily, as you try to get back on track. After feeding on your desperation, he decides to help and kicks your kart away from his.

“Okay, good to go! See ya!”

Atsumu waves as he drives away.

“Ya sonuvabitch!”

He’s already too far to catch up.

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

His hold on your wrist is unforgiving, as you’re being pulled through the whole park, towards a huge attraction. He’s running almost, he knows well you could change your mind any moment now. This is exactly what you want to do though, looking at the construction from up close. It’s so much bigger from this distance, too fast for your liking, definitely not looking safe, and ohmygod are those screams? What were you even thinking when you agreed to this?

“We’re lucky! There’s no line!”

Lucky? This is not “lucky”, this is a nightmare.

“Are you ready?”

A member of the staff asks when they’re done with explaining safety rules to the current batch of participants.

“No…?”

But it’s already too late. Protection mechanism is locked, trapping you inside. Sharp pull signals the beginning of hell. Unconsciously, your hands grab Atsumu’s forearm tightly as “nononono, don’t wanna” falls from your lips repeatedly. The devil incarnate next to you laughs, and you swear you could see a shadow of horns.

“Just relax and enjoy!” “Shut up”

“C’mon, open yer eyes! Yer missing all the fun!” “I refuse!”

If anything, you keep them shut even tighter.

“Ya sure?”

There’s a warm touch on your hand, a movement you’re only half aware of, but when fingers intertwine with yours, your eyes shoot wide open. Though immediately your attention is grabbed by the sight of a really high peak right in front of you. Quick look around reveals an almost perpendicular angle of the railway, the ground being as far away as the clouds.

“‘Tsumu, I don-”

You don’t get to finish, when brakes are released and the whole car slides down backwards with a terrifying speed. Inhuman screeches mixed with excited shouts fill the air, and you really think your soul would have been pushed out of your body if not for a firm grip around your palm.

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

Dizziness mixed with adrenaline overwhelms your senses, as you follow Atsumu towards a bench. What a ride it was. Even after it’s done, fear is still circulating in your veins, maybe with a tiny hint of excitement. Never again.

“Are ya that weak at the knees fer me?” “Ya wish.”

Yet, you walk with the grace of a newborn deer. If not for his hand holding yours… wait, what? H-his hand… Still?

“Hey, let’s sit for a moment, get ya to breathe, yeah?”

There are two sources of heat. One in the sky, peeking through leaves of the tree you’re seated under. It’s well in the afternoon, and not even summer, but it’s borderline uncomfortable. You wish you were wearing shorts. Second origin, much closer, being the skin on skin of your joined fingers. You’re awfully aware of the fact now, blood rush blooming and burning on your cheeks. “It’s just the sun,” you try to convince yourself. His thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

“Let’s find somethin’ ta eat. I’m starving.”

He gets up after your breathing steadies, not letting go of your hand.

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

Finally the crowd thins out with the evening approaching. It’s easier to walk now that you don’t have to watch out for kids running around, or in order not to bump into other people. It’s not completely dark yet, but random lights appear here and there already. You’re admiring the colours surrounding you, when you feel a tug on your hand.

“Oi, no date is complete without this!”

You turn to look at a… claw machine.

“Are you serious, ‘Tsumu?” “Which one ya want?”

You scan the plushies inside, creepy spiders, shiny fish, dolls with heads way too big, until your eyes land on a soft-looking fox with a huge fluffy tail. The problem? It’s in the furthest corner of the box.

“Dammit!”

The man curses under his breath. It’s his fifth try and the toy fell. Again.

“‘Tsumu, it’s fine, you don’t hafta do this.”

You manage to choke out bent in half from laughter.

“Ya want it, ya shall get it.”

He hisses through clenched teeth, inserting a bunch of coins again. His ego would suffer some serious damage if he gave up now.

Three more rounds, and you’re carrying the stuffed ginger animal in your arms.

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

By the time you reach the last checkpoint for the day, it’s completely dark and the only people left are either in a cart just like the one you’re in, or waiting for their turn. It moves slowly with a soft hum, rocking gently as it begins its journey on a vertical orbit. All the merry-go-rounds, stalls, roller coasters grow smaller and smaller, until they’re reduced to a swarm of colourful fireflies, twinkling and spinning.

Above, a vast black ocean littered with glimmering stars seems so close that you could collect them if you reached out. Being lifted in this glass and metal can makes it so easy to imagine that you have wings and fly up, higher and higher, until you’re completely free. For now, you relax in your seat, running fingers mindlessly through soft plush.

Behind the other window, the ground tries to mirror the sky. Another city that never sleeps, with its flickering flashy advertisements, temple lanterns, late home-comers lighting up their tiny rooms. Skyline is covered in a rainbow glow, and you can’t tear your gaze away.

“Beautiful.” Atsumu says quietly, he can’t look away either. “True, the city lights-” “No, I meant you.”

Your eyes meet his for a second, before his hands cup your cheeks and his face stops millimetres away from yours.

“Can I kiss ya?”

A question rather felt than heard, not louder than a breath, yet reverberating in your head.

“Please.”

His lips are soft against yours, and he still tastes like the minty chocolate ice cream from before.

You walk through the empty square of the park hand in hand, but this time, it’s peaceful and warm. It feels right, as if your fingers always belonged in the spaces between his. It feels complete. Almost.

“Wait! I left the fox on the seat!”

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

“Okay, I know it’s real cheesy, but please don’t laugh, ‘kay?”

They promise not to.

“I always wanted to go on an amusement park date.”

They promised. So why are they rolling on the floor and howling?

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 5: Skylines and Turnstiles

summary:  arriving at the University of Eastern Colorado, things start pointing to an unwanted direction

warnings: little allusions to anxiety and awkardness, everybody is finally getting along (kinda), mild sexual tension,  reader is fucking horny

word count: 3,116

read on ao3 here / danger days masterlist

You had been zoning out for about the last hour, only starting to pay attention as you saw the familiar red brick walls of the university. Joel had been droning on and on and on about football and the rules of the game, teaching it to Ellie and she lapped it all up excitedly. If there was one thing you had grown to love about the girl, it was her passion for knowledge, especially of the old world.

As they talked, you recalled your adventures the past month, thanking the stars it was a rather smooth journey to get here. The three of you only encountered one group of hunters that weren’t much trouble and they were rather well stocked on supplies and food, keeping you all fed for a few days longer.

The two horses were doing well too, the long trek didn’t seem to bother them as much as you originally worried. Made the journey much smoother and shorter than you accounted for. When you all left Jackson, it was only October, now it was maybe halfway through November. You were making pretty good time on your schedule. 

“I don’t see a glass building,” Ellie told you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“We’ll need to get to the center courtyard of the campus. You’ll see it from there, it’ll look like a mirror made of glass.” You raised a hand and pointed through some buildings, vaguely gesturing the way.

You led them into an area of the campus that led to the science center. But Joel stopped you and dismounted, giving Ellie the reins, “Stay, Callus.” After a couple feet of walking away Joel asked her, “What kind of a name is Callus, anyways?”

He goes around, searching the area for either troubles or supplies, grumbling about the name Ellie gave the horse.

“Not my fault you forgot to ask Tommy his name,” Ellie jokes and jerks her thumb at you, “Or that she didn’t know it either.”

“Hey, don’t bring me into this, kiddo. I’m just buddies with my dear Whiskey here,” you pat the neck of the black horse. He gave a little huff beneath your fingers and shook his head, enjoying the attention. “Besides, Cherry is the only one able to tell the difference between all of them.”

Joel gives you a faint smile as he reaches for the bit on Callus, guiding him through a gate into the middle of the campus that you waited by.

After being in such close proximity to each other, the two of you began warming up to the other. Of course, you still chucked snide comments at him, often calling him an old bastard when he’d piss you off or do something snide. He would reply in kind, calling you a brat and threatening you to behave.

Needless to say, that awakened a little fantasy you totally didn’t need of the man, eliciting some rather vivid dreams when you slept. Hinting that maybe you were unfortunately in need of a good orgasm to get it all out of your system once and for all. Being out in the middle of fuck-all nowhere made that kind of difficult.The mental imagery alone kept you up most nights on your watch while you kept an eye out as the two rested. Regardless, Joel had been a gentleman towards you, apparently all that southern charm was genuine but he was still a broody asshole most days, never once hinting he saw you in such a way despite how often you’d catch him staring.

Ellie on the other hand, took to you rather quickly. She would ask you question after question about California, FEDRA, what to expect with the Fireflies at the lab, what you were like before the outbreak. She was intrigued about life pre-cordyceps virus, it was as if it was a fantasy to her.

Well, you admit, you supposed it was. She was born after the virus took hold, she never got to experience the things you and Joel did in the world before.To go to a zoo, a concert, gossip with friends about who likes who in school. The only thing she knew was to keep fighting, surviving, and running. Despite how cheerful and passionate she could be about her comic books or absorbing as much knowledge as she could, you were saddened that she never got the chance to be normal.

As much as you tried to keep some things private during her lengthy questionings, you knew her curiosity was blinding. She meant no harm, likely going to you for these questions seeing as Joel was completely shut off from his past, not that you blame him. You couldn’t imagine what he experienced from what Tommy had told you before.

Ellie looked around on the horse, “So, these places… people would live here and just study? Even though they were all grown up?”

“Yeah, study, party, and find themselves. Figure out what they wanted to do with their lives,” Joel replied. He let go of the leather strap and motioned for you and Ellie to stay where you were as he walked towards what looked to be like a loading dock and began searching.

She repeated Joel’s last sentence about finding themselves, possibly turning over the idea in her mind, after a few moments of silence of both of you watching Joel she turned to you, “Did you ever go to college?”

You shook your head, silently telling her no. “I was too young when shit hit the fan, but I would explore these buildings and take the books that were salvageable. Read them when I had the time. Tried to educate myself however I could.”

“What would you have studied if you went?”

“I don’t know,” you think. Suddenly you remembered some of your favorite books that you had stolen from these very buildings. “I really liked reading the history books that I found here. Maybe I would have done something with that. Or maybe,” you ponder, “maybe I wouldn’t have liked history if not for the whole world fucking ending.”

Ellie considers this for a moment. Then, from the corner of your eye, you watch Joel disappear behind a corner and you turn towards her, “What about you?”

Ellie scrunches her face in thought. “Art. Or maybe music. I like being creative.”

You smiled at the idea, “Ellie Williams: Comedian, Artist, Rock Star.”

Ellie smiles widely and the moment is cut short by Joel announcing somewhere above you. “There was a look-out here,” his voice calls down.

Both of you look up and see Joel leaning over a concrete railing on the second floor. “That’s a good sign,” Ellie says to him, then she looks at you and asks quietly, “Right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. You furrow your brows and begin to bite on your bottom lip, unsure of what to make of things. It’s unlike them to leave a look-out abandoned. Now that you’re thinking about it, you’re pretty damn positive you’d have come across somebody by now.

You try to get your facial expressions back in check, not wanting to worry Ellie or even Joel by making them feel like something is vastly wrong with how this looks. Before, when you were with the militia group, there were armed guards practically on every roof of this campus. They were always checking in with each other, making sure none of the infected or even hunters penetrated the walls. It wasn’t always secure or even practical, more lives were lost that way but it helped protect the lab.

You’re pulled away from your anxious thoughts as you spot Joel. He takes one last look around then comes down from the loading dock and gets back on the horse he’s sharing with Ellie and looks to you, gesturing his hand out in front of him. “Lead the way.”

You give Whiskey a little kick and he takes off, jumping over a concrete barricade then leading them up some stairs and under some ornate arches and pulling the reins to the left. With a motion of your hand you point to the science building in the distance, “There it is. The one with glass walls.”

Ellie looks over his shoulder and huffs a surprise, “It really does look like a glass mirror.”

Unfortunately there was a locked gate between the group and your destination. “Question is, how are we gonna get through here,” Joel thinks out loud.

After looking around it seems the only way forward is through the crumbling buildings. Joel dismounts from Callus once again and led you both through a broken wall on the left that led to the inside of the old library.

“How many people you think are there? Fireflies, I mean,” Ellie wondered.

“Reckon it takes quite a crew to run that operation,” Joel looks at you.

You nodded at both of them idly, “Yeah, when I was here we had at least a few dozen, maybe more. I kind of kept to myself.” 

“You think there’ll be other people my age,” she asked, not letting her eyes look up towards you.

“I do.”

The three of you approached another locked gate inside the building, essentially cutting off both the library and the rest of the hall you were in from each other. Joel pulled on the handle and it creaked open, Callus and Whiskey both shuffled and whined, making you and Ellie shift on them.

“Woah, woah, woah, what is it boys,” Joel tried to calm down the horses.

Your attention got pulled away when you heard a shriek and Ellie said, “Sounds like runners.”

Joel looked back behind him then forward at you, “Stay together. I’ll go check it out.”

“Joel, no wait,” you try to argue as you dismount but he closes the gate behind him.

“Stay with her,” he tells you. “I don’t want the horses or her runnin’ off again.”

You give him a hard look that he mirrors, neither one of you wants to budge but the look in his brown eyes make you waver, finally caving into his demand. “Stay alive, you stubborn old bastard.”

His lips twitch, hints of a tense smile wishing to creep on his face. He puts his hands up on a calm gesture as he removes his backpack, removing the shotgun from it and pocketing a couple extra rounds as he stands back up. “I’ll be right back,” he says your name softly, his voice deep and rich, “I promise.”

As he walks away, you inhale a deep breath and your heart is beating. You’ve come to hate it when this happens, not that it did much. Whenever the three of you found yourselves in a tight situation with the infected, you each carried on with taking them down. You hated this, hated that he felt the need to do this on his own.

It fuckin’ sucked waiting.

Just as you were working yourself up more, you heard five consecutive shotgun blasts. Then silence. Ellie must have noticed your worry because she announced loud enough for Joel to hear, “Hey, I was thinking… I would’ve wanted to be an astronaut.”

“That a fact,” his voice rang out in the distance, echoing off the library walls.

“Yeah, can you imagine being up there all by yourself? Would’ve been cool. I’m just sayin’.”

You opened up the gate, leading Whiskey inside the library, still simmering with whatever the hell you were feeling. Ellie trotted her horse past you to another gate, this one opening with a panel and leading back outside to the courtyard on the right.

Faintly you could hear presumably Joel starting up a generator three times and then panel next to the gate lit up. You pressed the button, opening it up then went back to Whiskey, jumping up into his saddle.

Joel came back down the steps and grabbed the reins to Callus and his eyes fell on you, “Told you I’d be right back.”

“What about you? What’d you want to be,” Ellie asked him.

Joel looked away, focusing on something in the distance as you all walked out the opened gate. He scratched at his beard and admitted, “Oh… well, when I was a kid I used to want to be a… a singer.”

You raised your eyebrows and gave a small laugh, Ellie did too. “Shut up,” she said jokingly.

“I’m serious.”

“Sing something”

“Ah, no.”

“Come on, I won’t laugh,” she begged.

“I don’t think so.”

You watched as they both bickered over this, Ellie even tried to pull you into the conversation, saying your name, “Come on, tell him we won’t laugh!”

“Maybe he can treat us after a successful creation of the cure,” you compromise. Joel turns to you and ponders.

“We’ll see.”

The three of you make your way down the steps, then turning to the left, continuing your trek to the science center. Ellie gets Joel's attention, “She said she wasn’t sure what she would have done.”

“Is that so?”

You shift your weight on Whiskey, “Yeah. I mean, I like history now but back then? I didn’t really have a plan after graduating high school. I didn’t really click with anything, y’know?”

He absorbs that information and ponders. “Yeah, I get it.”

The silence took over and whatever anxiety you had was lessening yet amplifying the closer you got to the building, still wary of the fact you hadn’t seen any sign of the Fireflies aside from the abandoned look-out. Joel got back up on Callus as you approached the center of the school and together with Whiskey, jumped over another barricade.

The view in front of you was a much larger campus courtyard, with a giant fountain in the center decorated with a statue in the middle of it. Ellie was the first to notice a small group of bright orange monkeys and cooed at them as they chattered and swung around the clearing.

“That was kinda awesome,” she said as they swung away into a nearby building.

You smiled at her reaction and asked, “First time seeing a monkey?”

She nodded and repeated, “First time seeing a monkey!”

Atop the two horses, you all keep looking around searching for a sign of life but finding nothing. Leading you all down another outside corridor. Joel offers, “Maybe these guys like to keep a low profile.”

Ellie, now sounding less energetic, half-heartedly agrees.You bank right, vaguely remembering where to go when she points to a wall to the left. “Hey, look. Fireflies.” When you turned to look, you noticed the old wall tag.

“Yeah, it was to help point the way to the building we were in, in case new recruits got lost or something like that,” you tell her.

You pull into another corridor that is also blocked with a gate. To the right of the wall is a painted sign, saying ‘disconnect generator when not on duty’ in bold white letters.

Together, each of you gets off Whiskey and Callus and attempts to lift the gate to find it won’t work. The damned thing wouldn’t budge. Joel grumbles, “Probably have to find the generator.” He walks to a barricaded doorway to the right and peers around it then kneels. “It’s gotta be through here.”

“Joel, you are not going by yourself again,” you tell him.

He looks over his shoulder at you and cocks an eyebrow at you. The two of you, once again, locked in this damned game. He sizes you up with an intense stare and he already knows he’s won. You groan loudly, “If you die in there, just remember I told you so, old man.”

“Watch Ellie, you damned brat.”

He turns and crawls under the barricade, giving you a bit of a nice show of his ass before entirely disappearing. You roll your eyes to yourself as you turn back around, standing near Ellie and the two horses.

“So,” she starts.

“So?”

“What’s going on between you and Joel?”

It was so unbelievably hard to keep your face in check, to keep your internal screaming from etching your facial expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Ellie.”

“You both look like you want to fucking kill the other in their sleep.”

“That’s because I do.” Amongst other things.

You cross your arms in front of you, mindlessly showing your defensiveness on the topic and definitely not trying to tell the obviously fourteen-year-old who has never had the sex talk about how your body is screaming with alarms to get dicked down by the first person you see. Mentally scolding yourself for your predicament. How dare he.

“That’s just Joel,” she says. “He’s always like that.”

“He needs to learn how to work as a team or else we’re all going to end up dead, or worse.”

Gunshots cut the conversation short, the two of you ducking close to the ground, both pulling out weapons. It was difficult to tell where the shots came from because the two of you were still in a tunnel but you whisper-shouted, “Joel!”

Nothing but eerie silence responded to your call, settling in your bones. It took everything you had in you to not bolt and look for the man but both you and Ellie looking around for any sign of him. “Son of a bitch, this is exactly what I was talking about,” you groan frustrated.

Seconds ticked by that dragged into forever-long minutes. You weren’t a nervous person on missions, always trying to stay hyper-focused but truthfully, you don’t know how you’d handle the return journey with just Ellie.

Before you could work the nerve to go search through the maze of dorms, Ellie notices him before you, “Joel! Are you okay? What happened in there?”

“More infected, I’m fine,” he shouts, exiting a door from the far left, as he runs over to where you and Ellie were standing still, waiting for him.

“Here - come open the gate!”

As Joel pulls the generator to the wall to plug it in, Ellie tells him, “Holy shit you’re lucky you came out of there alive. She almost ran in after you.”

Suddenly you felt like you couldn’t breath under your coat as you gave Joel a sheepish look. “I didn’t want to have to explain to Tommy that I got his brother killed, alright? Don’t let it get to your big head, cowboy.”

Joel raised a brow at you then grunted, resuming to kickstart the generator to power the gate. It came alive kind of loudly but you resigned, only to mount your horse again choosing to ignore whatever Joel or Ellie could be thinking.

[jarofstyles]

Lone Wolf III- Maple*

A/N: wow thank you so much for the support on this story! we are so excited to continue writing it :) hopefully you all enjoy! please let us know what else you’d like to see from them - n + d

send feedback and requests here 

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

masterlist 

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, daddy kink, restraint, spanking, orgasm denial 

word count: 6k

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

Maple trees represent balance, longevity, and generosity. One reason behind this symbolism is that maple trees have the ability to adapt to many different soil types and climates. 

“I um... I wanted to ask though. The sex... I’m assuming you like it?” Harry wanted to discuss some things about it. “I just wanted to know... if you have things you like, or don’t like. Or things you’d like to try. Because I do fear overstepping with you.”

“The sex is amazing. I um... I haven’t exactly had sex before this, but I’m very open to trying things. Anything you’d like to try really.” Y/N explained with a small blush on her cheeks, “I quite like when you’re rough with me, like the way you talk as well... and I know you said you had some ideas about things you wanted to do with me. I’d very much like to hear them.” Y/N could already tell that they would have the most amazing sex life. Harry proved himself to be a very passionate lover and Y/N knew herself to be a whore despite never having been with anyone. Her wolf completely took over from the inside when it came to sex she found, it was the one time where she truly felt like a wolf.

Harry was happy with her glowing review. Glorious, really. All his goal had been was to make her feel good so knowing that she enjoyed it was a very lovely stroke to his ego. They had so much to do, so much they could potentially try and he loved that for them. He really did. 

“I was a little nervous to be rough with you at first because, well. You’re so delicate.” Harry sighed. “But it proves that you like it so I will most definitely be giving you what you want. You’ve no clue how easily I’ll be giving in to you.” She really didn’t. “I think you’ll come up with things you’d like to try. But ah... I can tell that you’re holding back on me too. I’ll get those ideas out of you sooner or later.” His eye dropped in a wink. Yes, he quite liked this. The easy, fluid talk and teasing. There was no awkwardness he had felt in the past. God— he wished he could take those back. His hours for loneliness had gotten to him so going out to find someone to distract himself with had been the last resort. It didn’t happen often— not in the last 20 or so years. He had felt repulsed by anything sexual with someone else. Maybe his body knew that she was on earth. “I have many fantasies that my head has been cooking up.” Oh, dozens so far. “But I want to know... did you used to touch yourself?” When she blushed and looked down, Harry tisked. “None of that, now, pet. I want to know. And if you did, how?” This was what he wanted to know. Vital information.

Y/N was convinced he was trying to kill her. She swore he was doing it on purpose to, loved to see her squirm and blush. Y/N did like it though, how nervous he made her in a good way. It meant that things were going well and that she really did like him. As if it wasn’t already obvious. 

“I like that you intimidate me, I get really shy, but it’s mostly because of all the things that go through my mind. Worried I’ll slip up one day and just blurt out something like ‘put your cock in me’” She chuckled, taking a sip of her water. He was right though, she did have plenty of ideas but for some reason her mind couldn’t think of a single one at the minute. It was probably her body just wanting to submit fully to the desires and fantasies her mate had. Stupid werewolf wiring things to revolve around males. 

“I um... well, I never really fingered myself, it was mostly external stimulation. So I would um... just rub my clit. I’d lay on my stomach. Circular motions, slow at first. I used to just lay there for hours if I had time.” Y/N hoped it was enough detail though she was sure he’d ask more questions. “And if the follow up question is about toys, I had a vibrator too.”

Hours. 

Harry needed a moment. His little mate would sit and rub her clit for hours if she could. That alone made him excited because he knew that meant the girl would like a little bit of edging. And then an idea popped into his head. He stood up, moved on the bed and sat up against the headboard. Spreading his legs, he patted in between them so she could sit. The look of confusion was met with a solid. 

“Come.” Which, to her credit, she did. Harry pulled her back to lay against his chest, but took matters into his own hands when he placed each of her thighs up so she was exposed to the air, cunt out. He lifted the shirt up, placing a kiss to the side of her neck. “We’re gonna play, then. Keep talking.” Harry’s hand found her cunt, fingers gliding through the slickness and letting himself hum at how ready she was already. Oh, yes. His little girl was the most beautiful thing, giving him a perfect view of her pussy and easy access as well. “So you’d lay there for hours... just rubbing your clit like this?” He took two of his fingers and applied a little pressure, swirling them around a few times.

Y/N furrowed her brows at his sudden actions, but didn’t question him. Instead she got up and sat in front of him like the good girl she was. He’d assisted her in spreading her legs, exposing herself fully to him. She knew what was coming. 

“Mhm... I used to um,” Y/N really couldn’t focus already, his fingers providing just enough friction to send small waves of pleasure through her. “I’d think about my mate— mmm— and I wondered if you could... could feel it too.” Y/N kept focus on her words for him, turning her head a bit so she could have direct access to his scent. “Cause I wanted you to be there, making me feel good like you are n—now—” She cooed, her hand finding its way to hold the hand of his that wasn’t working on her clit. Y/N lifted it up and pressed kisses to his knuckles, wanting to focus on him as well. God, she appreciated him so much. He was so accommodating and loving. The perfect alpha male. She knew she’d probably want to have him in her mouth constantly, she was thirsty for a taste now but she doubted he’d let her have it. Not yet anyway.

“Even then you’d think of me? See... I knew you’d be a good girl.” Harry purred. Oh, yes. Very much so. He had guessed that she was going to be the best possible thing for him and he had ended up correct. But knowing she would lay there and wish it was him, her mate? It did something to the man. A lot of things, really. “I bet we were doing it at the same time, pet. Feeding me your pleasure. I have a feeling that you’re going to be greedy for it from now on and I’m just going to give you exactly what it is that you’ll be needing. But there’s gonna be some rules, yeah?” He cooed in her ear. “Because I think you’ll benefit from some of them.” It would keep a good role of who was dominant too. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her having power— he did. A bit of a dynamic of a dominant and submissive may fit her very well. “Some nice rules and a set of punishments if you’re going to be a bad girl. Which, I haven’t seen yet. But when I do, you aren’t just gonna get away with it.” He could feel her slick up his fingers, and smirked at the confirmation. “There. Now.. let’s think of some rules. I think the first one should be... if you want pleasure, you come to me. Have to ask permission to touch your pussy, and to cum when we’re playing.” He whispered. “Have to ask daddy if it’s okay to touch cause it belongs to me, now.”

That was a concept. The idea of them playing with themselves at the same time. Y/N wondered if that’s how it worked though, if there was any evidence that before mates found each other they’d still be connected emotionally. She hoped it was true. Y/N was very impatient when it came to being horny but she also loved teasing. As much as she would whine and complain, she wanted it and loved the feeling of satisfaction when she finally got to cum. It was all about the build up for her. Another moan fell from her lips as he spoke, his voice spreading goosebumps across her skin. 

“You love giving punishment don’t you?” Y/N teased, knowing it was a good little gab. Clearly he loved his line of work but he would take more pride in punishing her, that’s for sure. Y/N was starting to squirm a bit beneath him, feeling her orgasm start to slowly build up and coil in her belly. “Yes, daddy.” She responded in a breathy tone. “I’ll always ask— fuck— it does belong to you.”

Harry could feel her get close so he slowed himself down, rubbing lazier. He wanted her begging him for an orgasm, really. And he'd be damned if he didn’t get it. He usually did get what he wanted 

Y/N whined as he slowed down, but didn’t beg just yet because they were having a conversation after all. He’d wouldn’t just leave her hanging, not yet anyway. She’d been a good girl and they had just gotten together. Of course she’d ask when the time came. 

“That’s good. That’s what I wanted from my girl.” Harry hummed proudly. “But let’s see.. hm. I want please and thank you’s. Asking me please before you cum, and thanking me for letting you. And I think that if I spank you, I want a thanking for every one.” Spanking her hot ass would for sure send him into a frenzy, but the rule was good if she got a bit too much and needed to be worked down— or up, in some cases. She liked it rough so far so who knew?  “I want a kiss whenever you come into a room.” That was a bit much and probably didn’t need to be a rule because they’d probably have it either way but, it was a fun idea for him. Especially with the fact he was guaranteed a kiss each time.

She let out a growl at the thought of him spanking her, hand squeezing at his thigh a bit because she had a feeling she’d like it. When he grabbed her ass earlier it sent her, so she figured it would do the same. Each moment with him just kept proving that the fates truly crafted them for each other. 

“I would do that anyway, daddy.” Y/N whimpered, bucking her hips up involuntarily. “But, please and thank yous and kisses when you come into a room.” Y/N repeated back to him, neediness evident in her tone but she didn’t want to whine too much. “A—any more rules?” There were more, there had to be more. Just having those rules were far too easy and frankly, she knew he’d have rules for her that she was likely to break just so he could punish her. It was hot really.

“Hm. Lots of rules I can think of. No panties when you’re in the house, unless it’s for a dress up.” That was just a fun little one. “Do you have suggestions, kitten?” He was curious to see if she actually did. If so, that would become a hell of a lot more interesting. That was as much. He wanted her to have a say in a lot of things too. “Think proper punishments can be spanking... no orgasms. Having to warm my cock with your mouth or pussy, but can’t move it. I think those are sufficient. If you’re really bad, I’ll spank you in front of people.” Harry wasn’t sure that was something she wanted however she didn’t seem against it. “You’ll tell daddy when you don’t like something. Or someone. If someone says anything rude, you come to me. Of course... I can’t say you can’t kick their ass. My stubborn little mate has all that fire. But afterwards... we can punish together.” He could be a little violent and wondered how she would react towards that.

Y/N trailed off, nuzzling her head against him a bit more. Her hand traveled up to hold on to his bicep, enjoying the feeling of his muscles moving to pleasure her. 

“Need a few harder rules daddy.” Her mind was getting cloudy and it was slightly embarrassing but then again it was Harry. She wasn’t really embarrassed, she just couldn’t control herself around him, not when he was playing upon all of her kinks so blatantly. “That s—sounds good..” She bit her lip, holding back a whine. She just wished he’d go faster again. “M—maybe others can watch you do other things if I’m really bad too...” Y/N offered up her first idea. A punishment at that. She thought it would be hot if he got her riled up in front of everyone, made her beg for an orgasm but never actually received it. Watch as everyone else gawked at her. She’d be so shy about it, but it was so fucking hot.

“Oh? So you’re a little exhibitionist, mm?” Harry loved it. She was suggesting that herself and gushed against his hand at the mere thought, so he could only imagine how good it would be for him to do it for real. If he wasn’t so possessive at the moment he would call someone in to watch. But, that called for a later time. “Harder rules? Wow... look at you, baby. I love it.” It was astounding really. She was coming out of her shell so easily with him and he was living every single second. He wanted it all. Every single detail. “Hm... no letting any man touch your neck. That’s mine. Perhaps I should get you a necklace that says my name, mm? Get something else besides the mark that shows that you’re owned by me.” Oh, that was good. “Can let them watch you suck me off. I think you’ll like that attention. Like the people looking at you being dirty. I’ve got a show off in my hands.” He was thriving, really. “Maybe... hm. I want suggestions, kitten. What rules are you thinking of? I want them.”

“Daddy!” She couldn’t take it much longer, all this talk about punishments and rules. He could definitely feel how wet she was. “Please, can I have a little more?” Y/N begged, just needing something that wasn’t this excruciatingly slow. Her pussy was practically throbbing at the thought of having someone watch her suck him off. “I—I’d like a necklace, maybe a collar.” She offered, still trying to search her brain to find some harder rules that she knew would be a genuine challenge for her. “You covered a lot of essentials— I feel like you like me being a little bratty though so I can’t have too many rules.” Y/N knew she was a good girl, obedient by nature. She didn’t want to feel bad and break rules, but she definitely wanted him to push her boundaries sometimes. Y/N wanted to be able to push Harry’s buttons but still technically follow the rules. “Maybe you can just punish me because you feel like it—“ Y/N moaned, “because I deserve it.”

He did like her being bratty. It spurred him in and he liked that, really. She was pressing at him and that was making him want more and more from her— he definitely wanted her to be a little bit bratty with him. Plus, it would mean punishments. Punishments she would like, he would like— it was a win win. 

“Just whenever I want, hm?” It was a lot of power she was giving him but in reality, he knew that it was mainly because it got her off. Being a brat and having her alpha smack her ass and so on. That sounded very good to him. “Hm...” He took his hand off and when she whined, he slapped it over her clit. Not too hard— but enough to have her gasp. He was worried for a second, but her overwhelming arousal filled the room and smacked into his senses. “Quite the dirty little thing. Do you get off on that?” His other hand ran up the shirt, cupping one of her breasts.

“Yes! God— yes, I do daddy!” Her words spilled out in a gritty moan. Y/N really couldn’t believe that this was all just coming out of her as if she had done it before. All because of her mate. This was how it was supposed to be, but she bet no one would have expected all of this from her. She was so quiet and shy, but the things she was saying to him even surprised her at times. “I want to cum so bad daddy, please!” She whimpered, “I know I’m a greedy whore, but you make me so fucking wet—” it was the truth. She’d never been so horny and thirsty for cum in her whole life. “Please daddy, let me cum.” Y/N pleaded, hoping he’d give in. 

It was like a switch was flipped with her, how quickly she turned dirty with her mouth. She hissed and whimpered, begging him to cum and telling him that she was indeed greedy— and Harry loved it. But it wasn’t that easy. 

“Oh... that’s the type of mouth I like in my pretty girl.” Harry laughed, fingers rubbing over her clit a few times before taking them away, his hand kneading her breast, he brought his fingers up that were soaked in her slickness and pressed them into her mouth. “If you want to have such a dirty mouth though, you need to make up for it. Clean my fingers up.” And god, did she. The girl was obviously beyond horny, sucking them messily and her own little hand held her wrist as she sucked the fingers in her mouth. He could see her cheeks hollow, obviously wanting to do a good job for him. So, he pressed his fingers in her mouth a bit deeper— and surprisingly, she took it quite well, choking a tiny bit. “There you are. Good. You’re proving to be a good slut already.”

Truth be told, Y/N tried keeping it together for as long as possible, but that didn’t prove to be long at all. It took all but 5 minutes for her break, but she blamed it on the fact that they’d just mated. Of course she’d be a mess for him, they were meant to do nothing but fuck for the next few days. Without hesitation Y/N opened her mouth, welcoming his fingers with enthusiasm. She properly got into it as well, knowing full well this felt good for him. He was probably thinking about the work her mouth could do on his cock. It only made Y/N more excited. She prided herself in how much she was able to take, both of his cock and now his fingers in her throat. It would come in handy, she knew he absolutely loved that he fit like a glove. Y/N moaned around his fingers, pulling away with a pop only to lick from the base of his fingers to the top. Poor girl was gagging for it.

Y/N was perfect in Harry’s eyes. He knew that already but... thinking about how the girl was so, so eager for cock and pleasing him? It soothed the beast, made his wolf happy for this hunt and to work to please her right back. It had been shocking to see her break a little and give him that filthy side of her but he couldn’t ever complain. Not when she was giving him exactly what he wanted. 

“Fuck me...” He groaned, watching her lick his fingers like a damn pop. He decided to go back to her pussy— only this time, he wasn’t as nice. Sliding two into her, he began to thrust them in and out at a steady pace. Nice and hard, the sound of the smack of it filling the room. “Taking my fingers down your throat like you were imagining my cock... fucks sake. You really are a little whore.” He growled into her ear, pinching on her nipple a little. Her hips went a little crazy, and he could feel her arousal all over his hand again but he loved it. “Finally showing your daddy how needy you are.”

Y/N smiled at his response, loving that he too was receiving pleasure from watching her break for him. 

“I’m so fucking needy, and it’s all for you!” She moaned, letting him work his fingers into her at a quick pace. It didn’t matter if it was his fingers or his cock, she was happy to have him working on her pussy in any way. Y/N wasn’t sure if she would be able to last if his mouth came into the equation. “You’ll let me suck your cock, yeah daddy?” She asked in a hopeful tone, her breath hitching whenever his fingers pressed against that sweet spot. “I want to taste you.” She hummed, bucking her hips up against his hand once against because she really just wanted to cum. Y/N could already tell she would become addicted to this. She had a feeling she’d need some form of sexual act to happen once a day, even if it was just feeling each other up and having a heavy make out session. Anything skin to skin. She craved him that deeply. She could only imagine how much worse it would get during his rut and her heat. She’s never experienced heat because she was latent, but Harry was confident that her wolf would be out soon and therefore she was hopeful.

Touch and sex was so important to wolves and mating. It was no wonder that her wolf didn’t want to come out, as it seemed as though no one gave her living touches. Her family placed a gap between them all even if they hadn’t meant to in Harry’s presence. It was ideal for a wolf to be raised with physical touch and affection and he was livid that she wasn’t. No matter now. Harry was going to overwhelm her with the touches and neediness he already felt towards the girl. His fingers curled inside of her, he felt his own arousal spike. Her words, her complete and utter dedication to him was perfect. He couldn’t stop himself from biting down gently on her neck. 

“Not yet. I want you to cum for me.” Next time he would be making her work harder for her orgasm, maybe even denying it but he couldn’t yet. He needed to give in and make the girl lose her mind. “Once you're a good girl and let go, I’ll let you have what you want.” Her cunt was dripping, and he knew that it was going to be a long night. He shouldn’t have bothered fixing the bed when they were going to mess it up each time. Not with how messy they’ve both been.

Y/N already knew that her life would be so much better here with Harry. He seemed to know exactly what she needed and what needed to be done in order for her to be happy and satisfied. Not only that but he offered her so much more opportunity in this pack that she would ever have in her old one. The gentle biting on her neck had a low growl leaving her mouth. He was perfect. She was positive he could do no wrong. 

“Can I cum for you, daddy?” Y/N asked, feeling like she wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer. She’d only cum when he said she could. That was the rule after all. Crazy how fast their conversation over dinner ended up with him finger fucking the soul out of her. “Just want to please you, daddy. You make me feel so good!” She whined, “I want to watch you while I please you, fuck— you’re so hot.” It was true she was getting off on the idea of getting him off.

That was the best possible outcome for any alpha. Harry watched her while she came, seeing how much she seemed to love it. He never had imagined just how amazing it would be to have this girl in his arms, let alone in his bed. He had thought it would be good, but this transcended what he thought possible. 

“You can cum when you’re ready, baby doll. Such good listening.” His voice was a coo, pulling his fingers out for a second to slap her clit again before he went back in and truly finger fucked her. It felt truly mind blowing with her constricting and clenching around his fingers. This was necessary for the both of them. “You please me just by doing this. Getting to feel your messy pussy all over my hand. When you’re done, you can have my cock in your previous little mouth for behaving so well.” He was amazed with her behavior so far— loving the little bit of brattiness but knowing that ultimately she would listen to get what she wanted.

She never knew fingers could feel so good. Then again, her own didn’t quite reach as deep as Harry’s. Everything seemed like a bit of a blur the moment he told her that she could cum whenever she was ready. It took all the thought away from holding herself together to focusing fully on the pleasure. The scene was rather pornographic, she wishes they could have filmed it because she knew it would look so hot. But there was nothing like being in her place. It was indescribable and to think she would be the only one getting this kind of treatment forever. She felt blessed. Y/N turned her head enough to look at him, keeping her eyes on his despite her face contorting in pleasure. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—” She chanted, a loud whine escaping from her before she knew she was coming for real. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek so that she could bring him down for a passionate kiss, groaning against his lips because it was really that good. She pulled away from his lips, her breath catching in her throat as her body shook from the intensity of the orgasm. “Harry!” She whimpered, “Daddy..”

“Good girl... good. That’s my angel.” He cooed, slowly lessening the force of his hand and letting her body tremble as she let the intensity subside. “My princess.” He kissed her cheek a few times, cooing soothing words into her skin as she began to calm.

Y/N breathed heavy as she calmed, closing her eyes and gently pressing kisses to any part of Harry’s body that wasn’t too far away. His scent was so strong and comforting, it was like a drug and she just felt the need to always be touching him in some way. 

“Thank you, daddy.” She mumbled, finding enough energy to turn around and face him once he removed his hand from her. Y/N took his hand, moving it up to his own mouth because she wanted him to have a taste. “All for you...” She whispered, eyes locked with his as his own fingers slipped past his mouth. A wide smile spread across her face as she noticed just how hard he was from that. “Oh daddy...” Y/N hummed, letting her hand begin to palm him through his thin sweatpants. He felt so heavy and thick in her small hand, she moaned a bit at the feeling. Everything about him just screamed alpha and it sent her.

It was a bit comedic, their size difference. Luckily, Harry found it incredibly hot as well. She was beyond sexy and small and easy to manhandle and toss around and it was nice to be big and obviously able to protect her. He would go through anything for this beauty. 

“You’re my good girl, baby. Already making me feel so good with just your hand.” He stroked her hair. She had not only begun to palm his cock, she had sucked his fingers clean and that alone was enough to drive her absolutely mad. “You’re incredible. Look and feel so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me.” He watched as she looked at him for confirmation, a delighted feeling in his chest as she had caught on so quickly. “Go ahead, sweet girl. You can have at it.” gently, he gathered her hair in his fist once she was perfectly in position. Not only for her sucking but for control. 

There was something so erotic about her sitting between his legs and her small hands wrapped around his cock, eyes wide and eager to give him what he wanted. Which definitely was his cock down her throat. He was pretty sure this was her first time doing it though, so he gave her a lottle instruction.

“Suck in the tip a little bit. Get it wet.”

Praise. It was something that she didn’t realize she had a kink for but certainly did. Anytime he said something about how good she was and how her actions made him feel, it made her feel tingly inside. It motivated her to do more and give more. 

Once he gave her the go ahead, she pulled his cock out from his sweats and admired it in all its glory. He was so big. There was no other way to put it. But just as the humans said, people had big dick energy and Harry was the embodiment of that. Of course an alpha was meant to have a massive cock, but most of the wolves did. Not quite as pretty as his.

So taking his direction, Y/N allowed the tip of his dick to slip into her mouth and gently worked her tongue around it to get it wet. She pulled away from it and repeated the actions licking from the base of his cock to the tip in one thick stripe.

He let his head fall back on the headboard because quite simply, this was heaven. Her mouth was silky and warm and her tongue running up the length had him speechless. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have a ton of experience. She knew exactly what he wanted and it was the most incredibly feeling. 

“Fuuuuuck.” He hissed, leaning his head up as his eyes closed for a second to just relish in the feeling. He could feel her happiness and eagerness now, knowing she was going well but honestly? Harry was more than happy with her. “Y/N... a natural. Of course you fucking are.” The growl was low and vibrated in the room as she took a bit more than the tip into her mouth which, he didn’t say to do. So he yanked a bit on her hair. 

“Didn’t say to take more yet. Just the tip right now, and licking.” He warned, and he could smell the arousal from her. So she wasn’t fucking around. Y/N reallt did like it rough and that pleased him beyond belief. Yes, this was exquisite.

She giggled a bit as he called her a natural, feeling the buzz coming from the praise. Y/N truly liked being good at things, as did most people, but she believed it was the one part of her wolf that properly developed where as everything else didn’t as much. That need to be the best, to come out on top. The competitiveness. 

When he yanked on her hair and scolded her she felt herself get wet all over again. It really was a kink of hers, she liked being bossed around a little bit. So, she pulled up a little bit more and focused her attention on the tip. She licked at the most sensitive areas, making sure to use her hand to stimulate the areas where she wasn’t licking. 

It was something that came natural. No one really explained it to her, but she had seen porn before and well, she was just doing what felt natural. She always knew that wolves had way more passionate sex than humans so whatever they displayed in porn wasn’t really it. Her interactions with Harry had proved such.

When she had given him what he asked for, he praised her yet again. “Good girl. Eager little slut for your daddy.” His voice was gruff and a little rough but it was due to the arousal he felt. He was far too aware of how he wasn’t going to be able to last as long as normal but he couldn’t be the one to blame considering she absolutely was wrecking him. The mating bind had him so whipped and he was going to let it happen. 

“Fucks sake, you’re so good at this.” He ran a hand through her silky hair. “Gonna need to have this often, yeah? But I don’t think you’d mind if I asked you to get to your knees for me.” No, she probably would whenever he asked. Just the same as he would for her, honestly. He would never say no to that. Except if they were playing and she was punished or being bratty but.... semantics. 

“This is what I needed. Got me all worked up watching you make a slick mess all over my hand, got all flushed and whiny for daddy and then came so gorgeously on my fingers. Exactly what we both needed.” He purred.

Y/N maintained eye contact when she wasn’t focused on what she was going to do next, feeling like even when he closed his eyes he still felt the weight of her gaze. Since she couldn’t really answer him, she moaned against his cock. The vibrations definitely adding to the feeling. 

Pulling off with a pop Y/N hummed, still greedily licking at his cock. “Can I have more daddy?” She asked, “I can take more of you...” her attention went to his balls briefly. She didn’t want to neglect them either. They definitely deserved some love and attention. 

Once he gave her the go ahead she wasted no time in taking more of his cock into her mouth, taking her time with getting some of it down her throat. She started to gently bob her head, controlling how much she could and couldn’t take, finding a good pace and sticking to it.

Harry knew far too well that he had to prepare. With a mouth like this, she was sure to get her way all the damn time. And honestly? He wouldn’t put it past her to sink down to her knees and suck on him to get her way. And as soon as he had her mouth on him he would be jello for her. 

She was experimenting right now, working more into her mouth and trying to find a good amount and rhythm. Harry was ecstatic to be her test subject. And she would be able to have tons of practice with him because, in all honesty? He was a willing participant. More than so. 

“That’s it.” He coaxed her into the head bobbing he liked, stroking her hair. She was an angel in the filthiest ways, and he could believe that it was only going to get worse. A beautiful concept, truly. Y/N’s perfectly pink lips stretched around his length and her honeyed eyes had him completely enamored. Yes, this sweet girl was learning very, very quickly. 

“A quick learner too.” She was going off his signals but it was natural. She just knew.

It made Y/N happy to know she was a natural at this. Not that she expected to be terrible, but she didn’t think it’d be this easy to make her man react like this. Now that she had this skill under her belt she would be sure to use it to her advantage. 

Y/N continued working her mouth on to him, a steady pace now found that both she and Harry were comfortable with. The scene was obscene, the sounds even more so, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She was thoroughly enjoying her new life. 

“You gonna cum for me daddy? I wanna taste you.” She asked as she pulled off for a breather, her hand still jerking his cock. It didn’t take long for her mouth to be back on him, humming at the taste and the feeling. Who knew she’d love sucking dick so much?

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

[part 4]

A/N: yes, lots of smut in this part, however!!! there’s a bit of drama in the next part and lots of fluff so stay tuned - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 11

CLICK HERE IF YOU ARE A FIRST TIME READER

TW for this chapter: more mild smut. more memes. more hijinks and shenanigans. coffee make the brain go skrrrt. bruce fluff & thor being a good bro™. some1 is catching ✨feelings✨. Previous chapters in the link above the cover pic.

Beta reader is @miscmarvelwritings so don't be shy, give her a read. She's the PB to my jelly.

"I don't know about you..." Taylor Swift softly sang from the speakers.

"Bitch, I hope the fuck you do!" I shouted, tumbling into the kitchen with the grace of a giraffe on acid. The smell of coffee and fresh omelettes was mouthwatering. 

"You look… Good," Peter stared at me, his coffee mug frozen halfway to his mouth. The tone of his voice bore very little understanding of the situation he found himself in.

I didn't sleep that night, instead pursuing a scientific quest right after being finger-fucked by Tony Stark. I blame the suits - he had one partially disassembled not ten feet from the puddle my juices had made on the floor - and well, I never said I had a great attention span. One terrible, inappropriate joke had led us to smirking to each other from both sides of the suit as we brainstormed how to best modify it for impromptu bondage sessions. If Peter could have heard us go at it, he'd never set foot in Tony's lab ever again.

On my mighty quest to quench the thirst for knowledge, I completely neglected basic hygiene, so the me that rolled into the kitchen that morning still had yesterday's outfit consisting of fishnets and Tony's hoodie, possibly stained with cum and pussy juice. As a bonus feature, infamous raccoon eyes had made an appearance, courtesy of me rubbing my face multiple times throughout the night.

"I'm feeling my oats," I declared proudly, sitting down next to Peter, making grabby hands at the coffee machine.

"I'm tempted to ask..." Clint handed me the steaming hot dish full of holy bean juice. "But I think I'd rather not." Pointedly, he moved away from me, just enough to make it known he was wary.

"What just happened?" Stephen Strange blinked owlishly.

Boy was he a sight for sore eyes. The wizard wasn't Tony, of course, but his plain white tee left very little to imagination, pulled tight across his toned chest and lean arms. The grey sweats? Illegal. That's a bonk and a ticket to the horny jail for me.

"You didn't get to sleep? Again?" Peter asked, exasperated.

"Sleep who?" I chirped, feeling way too energetic for someone running on some illegal drugs and a single orgasm. It was easy to shrug off the concerned stares I kept getting from the adults and Pete since my already wacky attention span decided to quit it's job without notice.

"Guys, have you seen… oh, there she is!" Tony scrambled into the kitchen, holding his head. That manic look did nothing for his complexion, but then again, I'd take him even filthy and crippled. "Don't just disappear like that!" He snatched the half-empty coffee cup, downing it's remnants in one go and immediately going for a refill. "We didn't finish programming in the shibari function..." He mumbled, absentmindedly running a hand through his messy, greasy hair.

"I..." Peter was still frozen. "I'm not sure I, uh, follow."

"So, me and Tones had this absolutely BRILLIANT idea ..." I started, leaning back in my chair. "But the execution, as usual, needs more work."

"Yes, I can see you've been having ideas," Pete's sass was ignored by both me and Tony. The man was kind enough to clumsily plop a coffee cup in front of me as he was beelining for the fridge. "What are you trying to install? Shib-what?"

"You don't want to know, Pete, trust me," Clint made big eyes at me from across the room. "I'm scared of you," He added, pointing an accusative finger in my direction.

I gave him my best manic stare, probably overdid it by a wide margin. Barton shrunk back, slinking subtly behind Stephen who cleared his throat.

"So I've heard you had an incident yesterday," The doctor was looking at me with concern and pity. "Do you need to visit the medbay?"

About a dozen unsaid and very inappropriate responses later, I simply shook my head negative. My mouth was not to be trusted whilst I was so distracted. Plus, he was hot. I kind of tended to think with my vagina instead of my brain around hot people.

"Good morning," Wanda entered the room, stopping briefly at my side to give me a hug. "Ugh, finally," She muttered the words, looking first at me, then at Tony. 

I raised my eyebrow in a silent question and she just smiled, reaching for her own coffee cup.

Tony mercilessly towed me back to his lab once I polished off two omelettes and another cup of coffee - what would've been my fourth was snatched out by an amused Stephen, all stern and firm and magical, meaning he simply whooshed it out of existence as I was raising it to my mouth. He didn't appreciate my choice of expletives, either, none too fondly rolling his eyes and beginning a lecture on heart attacks. Whatever, Tony was my knight in shining armour and we left the kitchen quietly plotting our mechanical plots right over the annoying doctor's mumbling. 

There was quite a lot of delicate soldering involved in the gauntlets of the new suit. Having to construct and fix everything on the go proved to be harder than building a robot; even for Tony, the genius engineer himself. We had burned ourselves and nearly dislocated our wrists too many times to count. Thankfully Friday ran the calculations in the background, so we just did the manual labor part.

And coding. The pounding in my skull, the acid in my loins. My God, I hated coding during a hangover. Tony didn't fare any better and that was the best consolation, really. Despite the consumed caffeine, he passed out somewhere during the initial stage. I held out not much longer, barely catching myself as I was reclining against him on the very floor we were building on, scattered cups and tools and glowing holo-screens keeping us company. 

My sleep was deep but not deep enough to miss a pair of deep male voices contemplating how to best move mine and Tony's sleeping bodies somewhere more comfortable. The engineer was a cuddler, it turns out, and refused to unwind himself from my prone body, going as far as to kick one of the men - I later learned it was Thor who got a swift punt in the shins from Tony when the Asgardian and Banner attempted to untangle our combined limbs. In the end, they settled awkwardly piling me on top of Tony and Thor single-handedly carried us all the way to Tony's penthouse, depositing us in the absolutely magnificent fluffy, enormous bed.

The bed? I wanted one as soon as I landed on it.

The fishnets? They were beginning to cut into the soft parts of my body, causing an uncomfortable stinging and itching sensation whenever I moved.

"Bwucie," I slurred with my eyes shut, feeling the man rustling around with a blanket, tucking us in. He was just the sweetest scientist.

"Sorry, we tried not to wake you up. Go back to sleep, Princess," He whispered, leaning closer to my face. His breath tickled my hair.

"M'kay, jus' wanna get these off," I weakly pulled at the offending piece of clothing.

The man chuckled. "That looks uncomfortable," Before softly sliding his hands up my legs, hooking his fingers under the stretchy waistband and pulling them down. His hands were hot and soft; my moan was softer but he heard it nonetheless, hand briefly stilling on my thigh.

I snuggled deeper into Tony, rolling onto my side and unashamedly throwing a leg over his hips, happy to find his jeans were off, too.

It appeared that Tony's teammates had already developed some sort of care protocol for their resident mad scientists. Bruce's and Thor's actions had been executed with a practiced care and gentleness. The warm fuzzy feeling in my chest blossomed fully as Bruce once more tucked the blanket around me, tenderly patting me on the back and Tony on the shoulder.

"You'nThor, y'the best," I managed to wiggle out the words out of my muddled, uncooperative brain before returning back to the dreamland.

It felt like another ten minute nap when I woke up again. The lights in the room were off, the NYC skyline providing the illumination instead. Tony was still in bed with me, his breathing even and the quiet hum of the arc reactor steady under my ear. It was the first time I'd been close enough to him to hear the sound of it. 

Sleep slowly seeped out of my body, lead disappearing from my limbs. It seemed like I hadn't moved at all. Once my head cleared up, the confusion seeped in. I'd gone to second base with Tony and we did science and never spoke of it again. He didn't kiss me, didn't touch me more than usual - but didn't resist a good ole sleepy cuddle.

What now? I never thought I'd actually get this far. Some part of me - probably the same part that sent me on a romantic novel reading spree a couple of years ago - thought he'd wake up, confess his secret love and attraction for me and we'd seal it with a kiss. Yeah, no, that sounded disgustingly unrealistic even to my own ears. There was no way I would be kissing someone with this swamp I had going on in my mouth.

I wasn't actually that naïve. Why would a man like him pursue something serious with a girl like me? I was a child in his eyes. In fact, all of the Avengers minus Wanda and Bucky treated me like a child. I knew why and I still hated it. I've been taking care of myself in all the ways but financial for years, surely, they had to have noticed that. Teachers in school certainly did. Bruce did, to some extent, I had to admit begrudgingly. Even if his behaviour was really peculiar sometimes.

"Do I make a comfortable pillow, Princess?" A chuckle startled me out of my musings. Tony sounded relaxed and warm and cosy.

"Yeah," I answered honestly, tilting to see his face. He was giving me that lopsided smirk, the one he previously saved for science and Peter and Clint's baking ventures. Something within me stirred, painfully tightening my chest, and I fought against it to preserve this memory like this - happy, carefree.

His thumb found it's way around me, tracing the line of my jaw with surprising tenderness. He was looking at me like I was made of glass. Like I was the most beautiful sculpture he'd ever seen.

I scrunched my nose when his finger found my lips. "I need a shower and a toothbrush," I declared, not knowing what else to do. All of this - the atmosphere, the shared comfort, the looks - it felt too intimate somehow. Having to be on full display of his intelligent, deep brown eyes was terrifying: I felt like crying one moment and laughing the next.

"I was having a moment here," Tony snorted indignantly but relented nonetheless, slowly pushing himself up in a sitting position. 

I admired his broad shoulders and the dips and valleys of his arms as he stretched; he caught me staring and winked, of course. I retaliated with skimming my fingertips under the hem of his tee, lightly scratching my nails over his defined abs, delighted with his shiver. 

"Behave," He sternly mouthed, following with a smile.

"Never," I smiled back, slipping into banter with comfortable familiarity.

He then led me to the huge walk-in shower, unashamedly stripping off his shirt and socks on the way. Boxers were the last, flying somewhere over my head. My hormones were a raging inferno, or, at least that's what I would have said if someone asked me why the 'loading' icon was hanging over my head as I stared at Tony's round, firm ass. I had to touch it. I absolutely had to touch it, at least once in my life. 

My dignity was saved by my own yawn. Tony's hands used the opportunity to slide his hoodie (RIP) over my head, exposing me to the cold air. I shivered in my lacy bra and panties until they were gone, too. My flaws stared back at me from the wall-length mirror and with the way Tony's hands gently settled over my stomach, another hand copping a feel of my breast, I couldn't bring myself to care.

"Beautiful, Princess," He simply said, having noticed the frown on my face.

"No, you," I automatically replied, smirking.

"Me? Nah," He shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing to his arc reactor. "Sexy, however... I'm definitely fucking hot," He leered, pressing his hips into mine with a knowing smirk.

I wiggled my butt, taking my time to turn around and face him. I saw right through the defenses he'd put up. The team didn't start calling me "girl version of Tony" without a reason - I knew we were quite similar in the less desirable character trait category. Impulsive, selfish. Defensive.

Angry red lines spanned across his chest, some faded, some raised. In the middle of it all, the arc reactor shone like a blue little sun in its metal framing. I traced around it, feeling the uneven skin, bumps and dips of it. "It keeps you alive. That's more than enough. For me," I placed a chaste kiss right in the middle of it. 

I wished he didn't have to have the thing. I wished he'd never had to go through what he went though in Afghanistan - for me, the press release I'd read was enough to get a grasp on the fact he was tortured and hurt and fucked up in there.

Stepping into the shower, I retreated from him, retreated from my feelings getting in the way and ruining the fun. The least I wanted to do was humiliate myself by crying out of... Out of what, pity? Lovesickness?

"I'm starting to see why everybody else thinks we might be related," Tony's chuckle sounded tired and slightly forced.

"I hope not," A moment to figure out what knob to turn and hot water rained down my body. Almost instantly, the tension in me melted away. "I'm not really into incest and shit."

"Ew," He walked under the stream, sighing agreeably. "But you're into bondage, so you've got that going on for you."

"Yep. Bondage and hot old dudes," I shrugged, reaching for the shampoo.

"I definitely qualify for all three," Tony promptly snatched the bottle out of my hands, standing behind me to do the tedious task of washing me. I allowed, guiltlessly enjoying the treatment. His dexterous fingers massaged my scalp, caressed my body. 

A moan slipped out of me at the glide of his hand across my nether regions.

"Tut-tut, Birdbrain is going to pitch a fit if we're late for dinner!"

"Fuck the Chicken," I announced petulantly, attempting to follow the motion of his hand with my hips. He held me firmly by my stomach, only succeeding in adding fuel to the fire within me. "Tony-y-y..."

"Nu-uh," He replied, but the smile hidden in my shoulder and the boner poking me in the hip gave him away.

"Sir?" I tried, getting a low groan in response. "Master? Owner? Daddy?" 

His breath stuttered at the last syllable, teeth closing none-too-gently around a patch of my skin. I felt a bruise bloom under his mouth, the delicious pull of it making me realize I'd be marked by Tony for days. A full-body shudder erupted from me at the thought. 

"You're trouble," He growled, grinding his own arousal into my ass. "Filthy, spoiled brat," Tony punctuated his words with another claiming bite on my shoulder blade. 

"I'm your trouble now," I smirked, relishing in all the attention my body was getting. The fingers that granted me sweet ecstasy at night a fresh memory in my mind, I relented my own urgent need in favour of repaying the man of my dreams for his troubles. 

One smirk and my knees rested comfortably on the strangely soft floor of the shower. I came face to face with Tony's hard cock. It stood proudly, the flushed tip of it dripping - with water or pre-come, I didn't know, but was eager to find out. 

"Fuck," Tony gasped, gazing down at me in astonishment as I tongued the slit of his cockhead. "You dirty little thing," He seemed to gather his wits quickly enough, bracing himself against the wall with one hand. 

He was just about to find out how dirty, I decided. There was something satisfying on a purely primal level, seeing a powerful man absolutely losing it with his dick in my mouth. Rapidly, I swallowed as much of him as I could. His girth throbbed. 

"Ruin me?" I popped off, resting my cheek against the hardness of it, tugging on his free hand to place it in my hair. My own arousal flared in response to his bewildered hunger.

Tony wasted no time in fisting a hand in my hair, carefully but firmly putting my mouth onto his cock. Inch after inch disappeared within my mouth; I was breathing through my nose as he slowly began fucking my mouth.

"Fuck, Jesus Christ, Princess, fuck," The mantra fell from his lips, echoing in the large room, mixing in with the water still pouring onto our bodies from above. The heat of it had nothing on the smouldering fire in my belly where it coiled tight and low. Tony's musk on my tongue, the firm hold on my hair. He truly held me, in body and in mind. There was nowhere else I'd rather be than on my knees for him.

I moaned around him causing a stutter in the moderate tempo. Our eyes met: his, wide and gleaming captured my own and I couldn't look away. With a wanton moan, Tony increased the pace, it quickly became brutal and punishing. I held onto his thighs for dear life, wordlessly pleading him to use my mouth for his own pleasure. 

And he took it, shamelessly, emptying himself into my mouth with a groan that nearly made me come untouched. It was beautiful and I swallowed every drop of him, refusing to let the evidence of his bliss go to waste. 

"Fuck," His voice was ragged. 

I rested my cheek against his thick thigh, catching my breath. "Good?" Just to quickly be pulled to my feet, trapped between his hot, wet body and the chilly tiles of the nearest wall. The shiver that ran through me was only partially caused by the sudden change in temperature.

"You did so good, you're my good girl," He mumbled against my lips, sliding his tongue into my mouth without any restraint. His other hand slid between my legs, immediately toying with my clit. That and the hastily spoken praise coupled with the feverish way he was licking himself out of my mouth sent me over the edge, until I was falling, stumbling head-first into an ecstatic abyss.

"Mmm... Tony," Dreamily, I savoured the moment.

"Oh, we're back to first name basis?" He snarked, finally turning off the water.

Pliant as ever, I followed him out of the shower and into his walk-in closet where he pointed at a row of t-shirts and hoodies. I grinned mischievously as I took my pick. "Daddy?"

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @softie-socks @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn

[dantesunbreaker]

Next Time

Paz Vizsla x Reader

*Angst and fluff, with a happy ending*

“Next time,” comes Paz’s modulated voice as he stands up from his side of the bed. Paz  begins gathering his clothes, sliding them back on before snapping the rest of his beskar back in place without sparing a glance in your direction.

Staying in the bed, blankets pooled haphazardly around your waist, you watch him and wish that for once the Mandalorian would give in and crawl back into the bed with you. It’s always next time when it comes to Paz. Never is there time for the post orgasm cuddles, no basking in the afterglow, or just taking the time to enjoy each other’s presence. You can’t blame him, knowing that the life of a Mandalorian is busy, but you wish that that life could include you more.

“Yeah, next time,” you’re frowning,  but you try to keep your tone positive. Your eyes stay glued to Paz as he puts on the last of his beskar, wanting to memorize every detail so at least you can imagine him beside you after he is gone.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” once again fully covered in his beskar, Paz finally turns back to you to see the look of sadness cross your face. In only two strides he is back at the bed brushing the back of his fingers along your jaw before cupping your cheek. “I have to go,” he leans in to press his forehead against yours and holds you there for a few seconds. “I’ll contact you via comlink when it is safe to see you again.”

“Be safe, Paz.” 

There is a modulated chuckle as  the hand at your cheek slowly pulls away. And then the giant of a Mandalorian disappears from your bedroom once again, leaving you to lounge in the slowly cooling sheets. You’re left waiting for however long it takes for next time to happen.

But then Nevarro happens. You are off-world when news begins to filter in from multiple sources about some big shoot-out that left part of the town in ruin. Something about a bounty hunter breaking the code by going back on his word, and thus the Guild going after him. But at the mention of dozens of Mandalorians taking to the streets to help aid the bounty hunter’s escape has a cold chill clutching at your heart. You were heading for Tatooine for a job, but suddenly that is unimportant as you're punching in the coordinates for Nevarro. The moment you land you fumble with the comlink Paz had given you with in desperation to get the device turned on.

“I just landed on Nevarro. Where are you?” silence follows your question. Tears well in your eyes as your hands tremble around the comlink. “Paz, your location please? Please?” desperation is clear as day in your wavering voice at this point, tears flowing heavily down your cheeks. “Please... just tell me you’re okay. Tell me anything... just please?”

You know that you won’t be getting a response, that you will never hear that deep rumbling voice crackling over the comlink ever again. Yet, still you cry into the device you clutch to your chest as if it were a lifeline, screaming Paz’s name and pleading for him to come back to you until your voice goes hoarse. When your tears have dried up and you are no longer able to shed another, you manage to drag yourself out of your ship. 

For the next few hours you scour Nevarro, examining the damage left behind by the battle. As you turn every corner you hope that you will see him. You imagine that Paz is waiting to surprise you, to tell you it was all just some cruel joke as he pulls you flush against his chest. But you don’t find any sign of your Mandalorian. You would like to at least find a body, something to give you closure. But there is nothing. You have nothing left on Nevarro. Though you long to cry, your eyes remain painfully dry as you realize you truly never will get that next time.

Having nothing left for you on Nevarro, you decide to leave. There are too many painful memories left behind there that you can’t bear to face. So you pack up everything to your name and set out to wander space until you can forget about a certain blue Mandalorian. 

For the better part of a year you travel the galaxy, never settling down long enough to call any one place home. You stay somewhere maybe a few months, just long enough to find some odd jobs to pass the time and line your pockets before you set off once again. Staying too long means you will get comfortable, and getting comfortable means you will think about him again. Even with the amount of time that has passed since your last day on Nevarro, the pain of  your loss still hits just as hard.

That is how you now find yourself navigating through the busy streets of one of the many towns of Tatooine. For the last month you had been helping a local farmer prepare his harvest for market, and today you were finally paid out for your work and free to move on to the next job. It’s already late into the night when you walk past a bustling cantina on the way back to your ship. Normally, you would just keep walking, too eager to finally set out again. But something is different tonight, and you decide why not stop in for some hot food and a drink for once. You’ve earned a moment to relax after everything.

A waitress slides a bowl of Bantha steak soup and a glass of blue milk across your table as you hand over the necessary credits. It has been a long time since you ate anything other than rations, so the first spoonful you have makes you nearly moan in delight. You focus on your meal, ignoring your surroundings as you savor the soothing warmth brought from the soup. That is until you catch a glimpse of blue out of the corner of your eye. Lifting your gaze from the table you make a quick scan of the room until you spot something that makes you drop the spoon from your hand.

It must be your eyes playing tricks on you. There is no way... 

Standing against the bar counter is none other than the blue Mandalorian you had spent the last year trying to forget. Painfully your heart begins to thud so hard that you are certain the other patrons can hear the sound of it hammering against your ribcage. A dryness takes over your mouth as you step away from the table and take a shaky step forward. Step by slow step you approach the counter until you stand only two arm widths away from the Mandalorian. At that moment you can see him visibly stiffen as he finishes conversing with the bartender. Tears are in your eyes before you can even process what you are seeing. You open your mouth to speak, but you are immediately cut off before you can make a sound.

“Not here.” It is the same rumbling voice that you remember, that you have only been able to dream of for the last year. Paz doesn’t turn to face you as he pushes off the bar and makes his way out of the cantina. 

In numb silence you follow after him, struggling to keep up with his brisk pace. You don’t walk far before you arrive at what you can only assume is his ship, seeing the way Paz trudges up the ramp once it touches the ground. As soon as you are inside, the ramp promptly rises and shuts behind you. With a deep sigh, Paz drops himself onto a bench along one wall as he rests his elbows on his knees while you continue to stand across from him with tears still burning your eyes.

“You’re alive,” your voice is little more than a whisper, but you know Paz hears it by the way his head sinks lower. 

The desire to reach out and touch him, to gather more tactical evidence that this is in fact not a dream, has your hands trembling. But you keep them firmly at your sides. For if Paz has been alive all this time... Then why did he never come back for you?

“You’re alive.. You’ve been alive this whole time.. and you didn’t come back for me,” at this that point your voice finally breaks, the soft tears turning into full gut wrenching sobs as you wrap your arms around yourself. Paz lets out a choked sound that you can’t decipher, but he refuses to look in your direction. “Do I really mean so little to you?”

“Cyar'ika... no,” Paz’s head snaps up as he hears your words, finally looking up at you, his voice sounding almost equally pained. He reaches out for you, hand hanging in the empty air for a moment before he drops it back at his side. “I heard you,” he is the one to whisper softly this time. “That day on Nevarro.. I heard you crying for me on the comlink.”

“Then why didn’t you answer?”

Paz reaches out for you once again, silently begging for you to close the gap between you. But you only take one step forward, not quite close enough for his hands to wrap around you. 

“I wanted to.. please believe, I really wanted to,” Paz stands back up to his full height, stepping forward to lessen the distance between you and himself. But he doesn’t touch you. “But it wasn’t safe. For me or for you. When the fight ended the Imperials came after the Mandalorians... They hunted down and executed my brothers and sisters. Please understand, I had no way of knowing who was listening. I couldn’t tell you then where I was.”

This is the most broken you think you have ever heard your usually strong, unbreakable Mandalorian. It makes your heart want to shatter more than it already has. But there still are so many questions left unanswered.

“But.. after? You could have found me after,” your sobs have quieted, but your eyes are still rimmed with red and watery. 

One of Paz’s hands moves to hover just a hair’s width away from cupping your cheek, wanting to touch you but waiting for you to give the okay. 

“At first, I was going to follow you,” there is a pause, as if he doesn’t want to continue. “But listening to you cry... knowing how you would respond to my death... I knew I did not want to put you through that again. With me, there is always the risk that I won’t come back one day. My lifestyle isn’t exactly safe and comfortable,” as he continues, you finally let yourself lean into his touch. “I thought I could protect you by staying away.”

Your eyes close as you softly nuzzle into his palm. Though his words hurt, you can understand the process of Paz’s thoughts. But that doesn’t mean you agree with him. You should have been given the opportunity to make your own choice.

“I did not take into account how much it would hurt me though,” Paz admits after a long moment of silence, causing your eyes to snap open and gaze into his visor. With a sigh he rests his forehead against your own. “I spent so long trying to stay away, but yet here I am. Even now I know I should leave... but I am a selfish man.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You are a foolish man if you think I would let you leave again,” you chide playfully, happy to hear his soft chuckle as you loop your arms around his waist.

Paz wraps his arms tight around you and nearly crushes you against his chest, a hold that tells you he is almost afraid to let you go. Eventually his helmet shifts so that you're resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“Would you like me to finally follow up on that promise of next time?” Paz whispers next to your ear.

[ravenadottir]

non fluffy alphabet: tai

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

extremely caring. he has this habit of holding you close, kissing your forehead as he lies behind you, taking the role of the big spoon. hearing your breathing as you slowly fall asleep, or the way you mumble your answers when he asks you something, are the things that breaks this man into a big grin.

he always has water on his nightstand and he will force you to have a big gulp. “you lost a lot of water there, beautiful.”

his arm goes under your head so he can snuggle closer, covering your back entirely with his own. he also loves nuzzling in the back of your neck, catching the scent of your hair before falling asleep.

B = Body Part (His favorite body part of their partners)

everything that relates to the bottom half of your body.

ass and thighs have a different impact on this man when the imagery is you moving in a way that displays them properly. the waving of your hips, the top of your thighs’ muscles contracting as you grind on his lap.

he adores running his fingers on your skin, or leaving a trail of kisses. an occasional slap is always part of it. digging his fingers on the crease of your hip bones.

he can’t take his hands off your body and that, to him, signifies closeness during sex.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

tai loves the intensity of the moment and how to make it even more heated.

he mostly prefers to cum inside of you. to him, it’s much more raw and real for when it happens. and he knows you love the look of his legs trembling when he lets go and do it.

D = Dirty Secret

none.

he is openly bisexual. “out and proud” as he once said, and he likes talking about sex, preferences, past experiences. he won’t hide anything from you, it’s part of his personality to be open and sincere.

and he appreciates if you’re open to him as well. he likes knowing everything about you, and that wouldn’t change when it comes to intimacy.

E = Experience (How experienced are they?)

relatively experienced.

he’s had serious relationships, but also one-night stands. to him, numbers aren’t relevant. not on his end nor on yours. i wouldn’t guess hundreds, but definitely dozens.

he doesn’t take too much time to decide if he wants to spend the night with someone, caring about pleasantries or “rules”.

if he has a feeling it’s going to be fun, he goes for it.

F = Favourite Position

you on all fours, on the bed.

the way your body moves while he thrusts behind you makes his mind travel. everything about the outlines of your back and hips, when you rear up and gyrate against him messes with him.

your ass, your legs spread, the possibilities are endless.

he also likes bending over to kiss your shoulder blades, to bite the back of your neck, to pull your hair and whisper in your ear how much he adores you just like that. he will call you beautiful at all times.

tai has a firm grip on your waist and if you take the lead and move against him, he melts. to him nothing beats the motions you make while in that position. nothing is sexier and he has to control himself to not cum so fast.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in bed? Or are the humorous?)

tai can be both. his natural self is usually playful, chuckling when you black out from an orgasm, sharing smiles as you move together.

he can also be intense if the occasion asks for it. but that’s not his default.

he would rather have fun and sexiness over intense stares and muted moans.

H = Hair (Are they groomed down there? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

trimmed, very taken care of.

he does his best to keep it tight and pretty. the guy feels more comfortable with less hair and knows how sometimes can be unpleasant to some people.

the sensation of having a ‘haircut’ is satisfying to him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, are they romantic?)

sex to tai is something he shares with someone he feels comfortable with. in one way or other, he has to have that level of connection before it can happen. when he’s in love, he’s extremely caring, passionate and romantic.

he wants that moment to speak for itself, and whatever he can do to make it special, he will. he doesn’t care much for ambiance, but about what you do together before, during and after.

J = Jack Off

if you’re away, he loves phone sex.

to picture you touching yourself as you moan his name softly is one of his favorite things in the world. not to mention how your voice messes with his head and senses.

to him, it’s the sexiest sound in the world, and that’s when you’re speaking normally. he might even have seconds while talking to you.

as for jacking off by himself, i believe tai likes compilations of girls and boys having real orgasms. the whole trembling, rinding, grinding shebang. he doesn’t last very long when he has those on.

K = Kink

hair pulling, for the both of you. he needs his hair pulled as much as he needs to pull yours (if possible, of course).

he also likes slapping and biting. if it’s your ass, even better.

from time to time the control stays in your hand, but he does appreciate torturing you with lingering nibbles and slaps while you ride him, or he rides you, so to speak.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

you already made his dream of the waterfall come true. i think if tai could choose, a balcony with the view of the beach would be the perfect spot for him. the waves crashing on the shore, the salty wind refreshing you both while you’re biting your lip from screaming each other’s names, the rails you’ll grip on while he’s behind you.

everything about the beach view excites him.

at home, the couch. he likes placing your knees on the edge of the seat while he grabs your shoulder, rolling his hips, grunting your name.

M = Motivation (What turns him on? What gets him going?)

you and your smile, the way you tease and goof around with each other.

to tai, sex starts before foreplay and kissing. the way you understand each other and how he can be himself with you is his major turn on.

but he’s also the type of guy that has “boner on command”. if you walk around in shorts, or just your underwear, he can’t take his eyes off you. he follows your every move and if you bend over to pick something, he’s ready to go.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do.)

the one thing i’m certain about this is that tai is open to try anything once. there’s not a lot he would put a limit to, and he’s open to most things.

he’ll try, but if doesn’t like it, don’t expect him to sugarcoat it. he’ll be blunt and honest about it, and he appreciates when you do the same.

O = Oral (Do they like to give or receive? Are they skilled?)

tai skills while going down on you is to almost die for. what contributes to him being so good at it is that he knows communication is key. he can’t guess what you like, so he lets you set the pace, the location, the speed, intensity.

it relies on you to tell him what to do. everyone is different and the sooner you have this experiment, the better.

on girl, he loves swiping his tongue, feeling the back of your legs on his shoulder. when you moan a little louder you can see his smile reaching his eyes. his fingers might tease their way in while your hips roll against his mouth.

on boys, he swirls his tongue on the tip while in his mouth.

he works it nonstop, and won’t cease his work until you cum. that’s the one thing you can expect from him. oral is not a way of foreplay, it’s as important as the act itself.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

his default is rough and slow.

the speed increases as time goes by, but the intensity of his kisses, the way he touches your body, his bites and slaps stays the same.

he’s the kind of guy that likes to hold your gaze while inside of you. that only shows him how he’s at the right place, at the right time, with the right person.

Q = Quickie

volunteer of the year!

before leaving to work, in the morning. before parties in friends’ houses. during those parties on a hidden cupboard somewhere in the house. in the car on an empty parking lot after doing some shopping.

you name it. tai won’t back out from a quickie, and it often happens by him pinning you on a wall.

R = Risk (Do they take risks? Are they willing to experiment?)

absolutely. he’s open to new things. when it comes to intimacy, he’s willing to experiment.

“how do you know you don’t like it if you never tried it before?”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

he can last long or not, depending on what you need since he’s pretty selfless when it comes to it. if it’s his choice, definitely taking his time is the way to go.

he enjoys watching your body tremble, and he goes for the 4+ goal every time. you’re there to have a good time and to enjoy each other’s company.

besides, tai’s default is to last longer than usual. with him on your bed every session is a rollercoaster. he’s changing positions after every orgasm, flipping, turning, rolling. it’s wild and fun, all the time!

T = Toy (Do they own toys?)

that’s where his cruel self might make an appearance. one of his favorite things is to watch you writhe with whatever he’s doing.

he knows the intensity and speed you like on your toys, and has zero shame in whipping one from the drawer. he might hold your legs on each side of his hips and hold a magic wand on you until you ask for mercy.

the thought of dominating you in that way is something that makes him go crazy.

he combines toys with his mouth or fingers, or even when he’s inside you, he can use a suction vibrator on you. there’s no stormy insecurity with him when it comes to accessories.

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

such a fucking tease!

he will touch your skin with his mouth, from your ankle to your waist and make sure he skips the most important part, and while at it, a stupid grin will stay on his lips.

he loves hearing you pleading and huffing when he doesn’t give you what he wants, licking his way up your legs just to go straight to your breasts or lips, to plant another kiss.

he also likes swiping the tip on your wet skin. almost masturbating you with it, long enough to have you throwing him on the bed and sitting astride him.

and even then, he might hold you, physically, stopping you from getting what you want.

V = Volume

vocal and loud.

he says what he wants, he gives your orders, tells you to grind, to ride, or simply how much he loves having you like that.

doesn’t hold back his moans, and they happen usually when you’re on a slow pace. but when he’s about to cum, or is having a hard time to hold back, he can’t help grunting your name, repeatedly. this is how he communicates.

tai also hisses and speaks through his teeth. not in an aggressive way, more in a pleading manner, trying to hold back as longer as he can.

W = Wild Card

if not in a serious relationship, open to it. he might even be the one bringing it up. boy or girl, he doesn’t care. the important thing is that he likes the person he’s about to share you with.

but if he’s committed to someone, i can’t say it would happen. he would be taken aback if his partner suggested it, even a bit insecure. there’s definitely some limitations about sharing the person he loves with someone else, even if he gets to be with the third person as well.

X = X-ray (What’s going on down there?)

so much girth. length. our boy is P-A-C-K-I-N-G and he knows it. he displays big dick energy and it’s not for nothing.

it might even hurt your shoulder if you stroke him for too long.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

my god, he’s driven!

he craves your touch at all times. it’s the way he knows he’s found the person he’s supposed to be with. and there are many ways to show someone how in love you are with them, but the most practical to him is sharing the bed. or the couch. or the wall.

Z = Zzz (How quickly did they fall asleep?)

he falls fast after so much exercising.

tai goes hard when in bed, so the effect it brings is just as intense. he wants to make sure you’re ok, taken care of and hydrated. once those bases are covered, it’s snoring time for tai.

[starkerintheparker]

starker reclist - PWP

What better way to celebrate RDJ’s bday than spreading some pwp love, amirite :D I decided to just share these without the usual commentary because there are only so many ways to praise hot smut and I’m not that well versed in English lol. Some fics are plottier, some are porn with feels, others are unapologetic filth. Suffice to say they are all sublime and top notch wanking material, 10/10 recommend. Please mind the tags and stay safe. Happy meals! 😈

Last updated: April 25th, 2020. All new additions will be marked with ***

• a little bit scandalous by @paspleurer (3k, completed)

Summary: “What do you think about dessert? I’m thinking the creme brulee, but—”

“You could eat my ass,” says Peter. "After you've already come inside of it."

Tony sets the menu down on the table with jarring force.

• A Special Love by @darker-soft-starker (completed) 

Summary: “You know - the thing where I tell you that I’m too old to be kissed on the lips,” Peter answers, reaching out linking their hands together over the gearstick. "Where I tell you none of the other fathers kiss their sons like we do and isn’t it weird?”

Author’s warning: Incest roleplay (no actual incest), semi-public sex, exhibitionism, public foreplay, armour kink, slight incidental daddy kink, nff. 

• Babysitter (AU) by @readysetstarker (5.4k, completed)

Summary: Tony was desperate. Ten minutes before he was supposed to leave for work, brushing his daughter’s hair in the bathroom and promising her a fun day at the zoo with her babysitter (he had already paid for the tickets online, the receipt for them sitting on the counter), he had gotten the call that she wouldn’t be showing up. He needed to be at work to negotiate a deal with investors, they needed him there, but she had been adamant about not showing up and hung up on him mid-plea.

• Ballerina!Peter and Construction worker!Tony (AU) by @starkerforlife6969 (completed) Part 2 is winterironspider

Author’s warnings: mild dub con (super mild, Peter turns out to be a mega-slut and we love it), innocent peter, feminisation, multiple orgasms, rimming, mild cock warming, mild cock-slapping. 

• Berries and Cream by @stfustucky (5k, completed)

Summary: There's no way in hell they're going to fit all the Avengers into two cars, not unless Peter sits on Tony's lap. And there's no way in hell Tony is going to survive the ride all the way back to the tower unless Peter stops squirming like that. Unfortunately for Tony, Peter doesn't seem inclined to sit very still tonight. Whoops.

• Breaking Character (AU) by @cagestark (8k, completed)

Summary: Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and spy for SHIELD. Working with another SHIELD spy, the infamous Spider, he will take down an infamous human trafficking ring in New York. But the act they have to put on will demand more from Tony than he ever thought he'd have to give. Not that he minds.

• Bruisable and Sweet by @bloomblood (completed)

Summary: Tony has a meal in Peter’s humble, college dormitory bed.

• Captured (AU) by @areluctantsblog (1k, completed)

Summary: In another a universe, reluctant as he may be, Peter Parker has to find out that being Spider-Man inevitably means being a celebrity, too. As far as he’s concerned, the only good thing resulting from this is that from time to time he gets the chance to lay eyes on the fashion industry’s most handsome face, that of photographer Tony Stark’s. When one day Peter is sent on a photo-shoot with the living legend, things take an interesting turn.

• Coming Untouched by @starker-stories (4k, completed)

Summary: 

“So, is it true?”

“Which thing? I presume you stood there, outside the door, eavesdropping on our entire conversation,” Peter said, miffed.

“That you can make yourself come without touching yourself even once during your… session?”’

• Context Clues (A/B/O) by Anonymous (8k, completed) 

Summary: Peter is crying. Those had been FRIDAY's exact words, and the reason Tony had run upstairs and bypassed the privacy lock on the kid's door. Context is kind of everything.

• Desperado (AU) by @starkercrossedlovers (completed) 

Summary:  Desperado Tony come to town and takes Peter with him when he goes.

• Drabbles by @starkerforlife6969 (290k, ongoing)

Summary: These are all starkerforlife6969’s tumblr drabbles/stories in one collection, aside from the Mafia Boss One. Mostly starker, but there will be winterspider and spidershield and spiderstrange.

• Eight Stops (to make you mine) (A/B/O) by @starkerkeyz and @the-mad-starker (9k, completed) 

Summary: He clutches onto the alpha's forearm and gives Tony another nip, harsher with his spiked up desires. "Eight stops," he tells the alpha, "that's all the time we got. Think that's enough…?" They can only have a quickie but Peter thinks it just might be the best sex he's ever going to get. He gives the alpha's cock another squeeze, trying to convince him to say yes. "Plenty." Tony unbuckles Peter's pants one handed, smirking against pale skin. He rubs his stubble into the omega's lightly bitten scent gland just to rile him up.

• From Across the Bar by @readysetstarker (3k, completed)

Summary: Tony took a slow sip and listened to a pair of new broadcasters talk about upcoming sports games and a player’s most recent scandal about steroid use. He couldn’t have cared less, personally, but there was nothing else on and he wasn’t really here to watch television. Not if the cute brunette trying to scope him out without being noticed had anything to say about it. 

• From Thy Bounty by @ibby-writes and feyrelay (30k, completed)

Summary: Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

• Further Assistance by @learned-foot (4k, completed)

Summary: Besides, it would be unethical not to tell Peter what he saw, right? He’s pretty sure that would violate some sort of boundary. And if the kid wants to go down the path of creative experimentation, it’s kind of Tony’s duty to make sure he does it safely. He basically has to help.

• half doomed and you’re semi sweet by noctiphany (2k, completed) underage

Summary: “Peter,” Tony says, his tone flat, and Peter shudders. “Peter,” Tony says again, impatient and with a hint of threat. “I’m waiting.

• Heal Me by Mezzymet (7k, completed)

Summary: His love for the man probably bordered on hero worship but....you could love someone and not be in love with them. Obviously.

• I could be your whore, Mr. Stark by @stfustucky (10k, completed)

Summary: Peter needs a cover story for his shady behavior as Spidey, and half the school thinks he's an escort anyways, so Peter just leans into the rumors. Tony, being the good friend and teammate that he is, agrees to corroborate the cover story by letting everyone think Peter is his own personal slut. 

• Indulge Me by @learned-foot (370 words, completed)

Summary: Peter likes it best when Mr. Stark is rough and taking. Read it together with Under Someone Else.

• Jealousy is Ugly (Except When It's Not) by @yadds (4k, completed) 

Summary: Peter has a boyfriend. Tony can't stand it. 

• Kinktober 2019 by @readysetstarker (38k, completed)

The whole list is amazing, my personal favorites are the glorious upskirt/semi public sex (ch 6). the  breathtaking mirror sex (ch 7) and the sweet praise kink (ch 9).

• Just a little bit, just enough by @bitter-lemon-water (25k, completed)

Summary: So somewhere in between devastation, uncertainty, fear and disconcertment—Peter settles. Alternatively: Tony pulls. (Peter lets him.) (Peter wants him to.)

• Just Listen to Me by LeafyGreenQueen773 (3k, completed)

Summary: After the spider bite, Peter's senses are “dialed to eleven”. That includes in bed. Peter talks Tony through what feels best to him. 

• Later for later by @unsettledink (15k, completed) sex pollen, top!Peter 

Summary: “You,” Peter says, again, mouthing at Tony's skin. “I want you. I trust you. This is a terrible, terrible idea, Tony knows. The worst. And yeah he's normally all for terrible ideas, but this is… no. (The one where Peter gets hit with a sex drug, and Tony is not prepared for this shit.)

• Me, You & A Tattoo by @starkeristheendgame (4k, completed)

Summary: Peter gets Tony's name tattooed on his ass after a not-bet with MJ. Really, it was just a matter of time before Tony found out.

• Morning (A/B/O) by @starkerstarkerstarker (completed)

Summary: Peter’s breath hitches, eyes on him like he expected him to do more, but when he doesn’t, when all he does is lift a brow, he frowns, his bottom lip pushing out. “If you want something, princess, go ahead.”

• No Control by @paspleurer (500 words, completed)

Summary: Mr. Stark’s conditions are simple— no touching himself, and no talking. And Peter wants to be good, he really does— but his senses make it so hard.

• Paint my Body Gold by @spidey-stuff (14 k, completed)

Summary: Tony is desperate to rid himself of his inappropriate attraction before the last barrier holding him back crumbles as Peter's 18th birthday rapidly approaches.

• Perfect by @learned-foot (639 words, completed)

Summary: There are a lot of things that should make Peter embarrassed right now, starting with the fact that the first time Mr. Stark kissed him—about half an hour ago, though it feels like another world—he came in his pants within seconds.

• Peter in Heat (A/B/O) by @starkerforlife6969 (completed)

Summary:  Peter’s presenting and Tony knows exactly how to take care of him.

• Red Light District series (AU) by @starker-stories (17k, ongoing)

Summary: Everyone knows that Tony Stark is a playboy who has dozens of women passing through his life and through his bed. What everyone doesn't know is that Tony Stark is deeply closeted, longing for something he can't ever have -- a life and a love with another man.

• Reversal by @learned-foot (4k, completed)

Summary: Sometimes, Tony is the one who needs to be praised.

• Still Use Work by @learned-foot (6.5k, completed)

Summary: Peter has a problem. Tony attempts to solve it. To be helpful, obviously. That’s the only reason.

• Sweet for me, my Honeybee by garbagesinboy (10k, completed)

Summary: Peter's got a sweet tooth, and Tony's got a problem. In which Peter Parker consumes way more sugar than the average human ever should, and Tony Stark suffers many many boners.

• Tremolo by @lilsoshie and @marvlouse (4k, completed)

Summary: “You’re gonna ride me,” Tony decides, easing his fingers free and cherishing the unhappy whine the move inspires. “Up, come on.” 

“Tony,” Peter says, a complaint, an exhausted plea.

• The Third Idea by @cagestark (12k, completed)

Summary: Tony walks in on Peter jerking off twice in one week, and realizes that his lover needs a little more from him. So he gives him less; a week without cumming should do it.

• This fire is out of control by feyrelay (2k, completed) sex pollen

Summary: There's really not enough room in their hiding spot to fuck, but Peter's temperature is rising from whatever they've been given, and Tony-Well, Tony's determined.

• Once Upon a Time, there was a Sloshed Bunny and a Guilty Man by @starkerchemistry (completed) 

Summary: drunk!Peter dirty talks Tony on the phone. 

• Up to Eleven by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG (15k, completed)

Summary: He watches those five minutes. Watches them again, and again. Tries to tell himself that he’s seeing something other than what FRIDAY is showing him.

• wasn’t built in a day by orphan_account (7k, completed) dubcon

Summary: Peter files “massive hard-on for Tony Stark” under “things I can’t tell Aunt May.” It’s tied at the top of the list with “I’m Spider-Man” and “I’m responsible for Uncle Ben’s death.”

• Weird by tuesday (2k, completed)

Summary: It wasn't weird, okay? A lot of people wanted to have sex with the Iron Man armor. A lot. There were entire forums and Instagram and Twitter accounts dedicated to it. There had been internet wars fought solely over which Mark was the sexiest. There was endless speculation over whether Tony Stark was among their number and whether and how he actually had outfitted one of the armors with the ability to make good on all that sleek, sexy promise.

It wasn't weird.

"It's a little weird," Tony said.

• what’s the point of a clear raincoat with no hood? by CarnivalGoldfish (7k, completed) 

Summary: Tony buys Peter clothes because he likes Peter wearing what he bought him. Peter realizes this is not normal.

*** when the world has dealt its cards by thisismydesignn (3k, completed) underage

Summary: Tony Stark has never claimed to be a role model, let alone a good influence. Case in point...

• You Learn Something New Every Day by @sbiderslut (4k, completed)

Summary: This man looks right at them and remarks, happily unaware of the kiloliter can of worms he just RPG-ed wide open, “The bond between you and Mr. Parker is truly remarkable, Tony. You could practically be father and son.”

• Your Eyes Only by tuesday (4k, completed)

Summary: It was an accident. Tony did not, as a rule, check up on Peter these days, and while he had kept the monitoring programs, they were there in case of emergency.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Royal We ch.3 (baon)

Summary: Family helps family. Sometimes right into the path of an oncoming car.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Instinct was a tricky thing, Edge knew. Occasionally useful, generally unreliable, most of his instinctual urges for fight or flight had been forcibly trained away by his brother by the time Edge was old enough to be left alone so that Red could go out and scrounge food for them. Instinct was not to be relied upon and taking an instant to assess a situation before blindly engaging meant the difference between dust and another day.

And so, while instinct was clamoring inside him to scoop Stretch directly into his arms and carry him inside, right up to their bedroom to bar the door, his brother’s training remained and allowed him the logic to know that if he tried it, Stretch would very much resent it and might revolt, taking a shortcut to anywhere and dragging Edge along on the nauseating ride as punishment. That was strain that Stretch did not need and vomit that Edge’s boots could do without. Better to side with logic and help Stretch make his slow way to the sofa.

But there was no sigh of relief when they reached it. Stretch only blindly lowered himself to the cushions. He rolled to his side, both arms clutched around his skull and a low, thin whine escaped him. Edge tried to cover him with the blanket still in his hands but Stretch flung it off almost immediately. Small wonder, there was sweat beading on his skull, pale orange running down the sides of his face to soak in where it was still buried in his sweatshirt-covered arms.

“I’m calling the doctor,” Edge said tersely. He didn’t know what was wrong, but this was past any ordinary headache. He couldn’t simply stand here and watch his husband quiver in wretched pain, already reaching for his phone. Only to hesitate as Stretch jerked half-upright, looking out from underneath his shading arms long enough to shake his head wildly before sinking back down with a wince.

“no! no, they can’t help, i just need to…i gotta tamp it back down.” Stretch let out a shuddery breath, whimpering out, “it’s been so long.”

Edge lowered himself down to the floor next to the sofa, stretching out his bad leg with a grimace; it was letting him know on no uncertain terms that he’d been standing for too long. The urge to touch Stretch, to offer some comfort, was overwhelming and likely unwelcome. Instead he gripped his phone, only loosening his hold when the case creaked ominously. “What’s been so long? How can I help?”

“can’t.” A single word, clipped and pained. Not at all what Edge wanted to hear. His phone groaned again in his hand and Edge tossed it carelessly on the coffee table. not bothering to watch it clatter to a stop. At least he could spare his devices any further trauma.

For too long he sat and watched as jerky tremors rocked through his husband. His eye lights tracing Stretch’s hands where they were clenched together over his skull, the bones bleached pale and joints taut. In tiny increments, his grip eased, his breathing slowed.

“there,” Stretch sighed out. “there, that’s…that’s better, a little better.”

“What’s a little better?” Edge asked, worried and frustrated. “What is going on here? Explain.” This was something new, an unwelcome snag in their homey life quilt, and the sudden tension that seized Stretch had nothing to do with pain. “Please, tell me, don’t leave me out of this.”

“i won’t,” Stretch whispered, low and resigned. “can’t, really.” He moved to lay on his back, one slim arm still slung over his sockets as he sighed heavily and began, every word slow, chosen with care. “i was sitting on the porch with janice when sans messaged me, asked for help. i almost said no, it’s been so long, but. it was starting to get dark and cold, i couldn’t let jude stay out any longer, not if i could help find him. so i met up with sans and we went looking for his soul.”

That gave him a pause, nothing like he’d expected, if he’d expected anything at all. “You…what?”

“we…i looked for his soul,” Stretch repeated doggedly, “gave up the job but i still have the tools. sans was already trying, but i have more magic than him, you know that much. i can see further, i had a better shot from the get-go.

“You Checked for him?” Edge asked, confused. None of what Stretch was saying made sense. Checks wouldn’t be useful in a search, the range was only a few feet and required a certain amount of focus. He reached out to feel Stretch’s skull above his blocking arm, searching his forehead for a fever. If this were some sort of pain-driven delirium, he needed to call the doctor, right now.

Stretch flinched away, cringing back into the sofa cushions. “no, no, not a check. i can see souls without pulling them. we can, judges can. only problem is you can’t really narrow the field, it’s all or nothing.” He shuddered, curling inward and swallowing convulsively, his tongue rasping dryly over his teeth. “saw too many people, too many souls, all over, while they were searching. even a glimpse is so much. just need a few minutes, y’know, s’like a watch, you gotta let it wind itself back down.”

“You can see souls,” Edge repeated, slowly, as if the words would somehow make more sense if he drew them out. But the meaning didn’t change no matter how it was said. Judges could see souls, Sans and Red and Stretch, they could see them without first pulling them free from a Monsters’ chest, they could see…they could see so much, he said. Too much.

Dawning understanding was rising, coupled with a highly unpleasant thought and nausea of his own stirred. Edge spoke without thinking, his voice preternaturally calm as he asked, “Have you seen my soul?”

“i’m not even looking at you, babe,” Stretch scoffed. Hardly his best attempt at obfuscation; his hands twitched briefly into fists before forcibly relaxing, his mandible going tight as his jaw clenched. Little tells revealing unwanted truths.

This wasn’t the time for it, his husband was still hurting, but Edge couldn’t help demanding, raw panic rising through his rigid control. “That is not what I asked, give me a straightforward answer for once! Have you seen my soul?”

The silence couldn’t have lasted more than a few breaths, a quiet eternity before a soft, pained confession, “yeah.”

Now that he understood, clarity was coming in strong waves, splashing into him and knocking him off balance, but he understood, all too well. “You saw when we first arrived here. Didn’t you.” Fresh from Underfell, his LV still boiling so close to the surface before he’d better learned to control it. Snarling at every perceived insult while it throbbed hotly in his soul, demanding kill or be killed, but not here, not in this place, never again, and Stretch had seen that, had…had hated him then, most of those insults were from him.

“yeah. i did.” Softer yet, thickly. The arm that wasn’t over Stretch’s sockets reached out, his slender hand grasping. Edge scrambled back from it thoughtlessly, nearly wrenching his ankle and ignoring the jagged protest of pain shooting up his leg. Unable to touch, not right now, not with the sourness sitting at the back of his tongue, his bitter gorge rising. His brother never told him about any of this and now Stretch was only admitting to it years later, he’d seen and he never said—

Edge closed his sockets, forcing himself to take a long, calming breath. This shouldn’t be such an issue; he’d seen Stretch’s soul a dozen times now, hypocrite that he was, held it in his hand, taken comfort from it, felt the slick welling from it in the moment of orgasm, silvery sleek against his bare phalanges. He’d seen Stretch at the very peak of his vulnerability, been given that gift time and again.

He may never have offered that in return, but Stretch had seen his soul and he was still here. Had sought Edge out from the beginning, those first cautious flirtations came even after he’d seen, even after all the ugliness already between them back then. In this world, sharing souls didn’t even hold the same level of importance, casually summoning them for doctors to treat or scientists to study. It shouldn’t be an issue and Edge wanted to say it was all right and couldn’t. “When was the last time you saw it?”

That grasping hand wilted, settling empty back on Stretch’s chest, and Edge couldn’t stifle the unwilling thought that it was close to his soul, “a little while before we started dating,” Stretch admitted, still achingly soft, “right around when i decided that i didn’t give a shit what ass-gore wanted, i was washing my hands of the whole judging biz. this is the only time it’s ever done any good for me, anyway, never felt like it ever helped anyone else, it only ever hurt them.”

“And you haven’t looked since?” Edge demanded. Not that he didn’t believe him, he did…and he didn’t, he needed to hear it. “Why?”

That barricading arm rose and Stretch looked out at him from under it. His eye lights filled his sockets, not their normal pale white but a faded orange, blearily diffused, Edge wasn’t even sure how much he could actually see, souls or otherwise, as Stretch said, simply, “you don’t want me to see it.”

The words were hardly accusatory, but Edge couldn’t stop a flinch. The urge to run away was strong, to flee…and go where? There wasn't anywhere he could go to hide what had already been seen.

Stretch said nothing, only closed his sockets again and slumped back down. Expecting perhaps to be shouted at for…not lying, not this time, but certainly a creative withholding of information. Red lying to him was nothing new, but there were a dozen times Stretch could have brought up the fact he'd already seen Edge's soul, more, any time Edge asked to see his, he could have spoken of this.

Only, Edge knew something else about lies, from his brother. At some point, the lie becomes too big, the burden barely balanced, and for Stretch to bring it up would be risking exactly this. The lie became less important than the fact that it was kept for so long. Some might consider it better to keep waiting and hope it never came up. Someone who was entirely too adept at avoiding confrontations, who hated to disappoint anyone, who sometimes gave off a façade of carelessness that was only a thin disguise for how deeply he did care.

Someone like Stretch.

"It’s ironic," Edge said at last. He felt oddly distant, speaking from outside himself. “I was just talking to Dr. Lee about my inability to show my soul to you and you’ve already seen it.”

“i didn’t mean to.” His voice was so achingly small, then louder, cautiously interested, “you saw doc lee?

“For my assessment,” Edge admitted. The shame was grounding, jarring him back to earth, and who was he to complain about a discreet withholding of information? He’d never meant to keep his visit a secret, only planned to discuss it at the right time, or so he’d told himself, for several days now. “She wants to see me again.”

“gonna go?” The words held no judgment, and Edge held back a pained bark of laughter at his own unintentional mental pun.

“Yes.”

“that’s good. she's good.”

“It is good,” Edge said roughly, “because you deserve to see my soul and not simply when you can’t help it.”

“babe, you don’t need to—"

The distance between them was abruptly wrong instead of a reprieve. Edge crawled back over to him and kissed him softly to silence him, tasting his relief as Stretch pushed into his touch. It soothed, some, but the jangling agitation in his chest was still stirring warningly hard. He wanted to be here and didn’t, he wanted to hold Stretch and push him away, a painful conflict that needed resolved. He drew away again despite Stretch’s tiny sound of protest, “I need a minute. I’m not angry at you, I promise. But I need some time to think.”

“yeah, i get it,” Stretch sagged back into the sofa. “go on, do what you gotta do. i’ll be here when you get back, i’m not going anywhere.”

An implied promise and a near threat in one and Edge cherished it. He snatched up his cane and struggled to his feet, limping outside. On the porch, he paused to tighten the straps on his leg brace. It helped, increasing the support as he started off into the cool evening. After standing in place for so long, walking felt good, the sidewalks emptier than normal even at this hour. The other joggers he occasionally saw were probably already home, the sweat built up from searching for Jude showered away and curled up for their favorite nighttime activity with their family. And here he was, alone, with the cold air against his bare skull bracing, clarifying, as he walked. Despite what he’d told Stretch, thinking was more the opposite of what he was doing. He let his mind wander, focusing on nothing at all, let the agitation swirling in his soul ease and settle. He didn’t need the violence of sparring to settle his LV, not this time.

He wandered through the empty streets, letting time pass without a gauge. Until the ache in his leg began to threaten again and his soul was calm and by then, his wandering had already taken him back to his own street. Back to his home.

When he stepped inside, he saw Stretch was curled asleep on the sofa, half-buried in the blanket. As Edge watched, he let out a faint, shuddery sound, his breath hitching. There were faint stains still visible on his cheek bones; he’d been crying, and remorse settled in. He’d needed his space, but he didn’t wanted it at the cost of more pain for his love.

Edge sat down with him, his hip on the edge of the sofa cushion, tracing one pale orange streak down Stretch’s cheekbone with a gloved fingertip. Even now, he was the loveliest thing Edge had ever seen, his sunrise and starlight together, shining brightly from a perfect soul.

Stretch stirred, his sockets drifting open and before he could even properly focus, he smiled, sleepily beautiful as he mumbled, “hey, babe.”

“Hey, yourself.”

Some of that openness closed over, shading his eye lights as he woke further, hesitantly asking, “everything okay?”

“Okay in that we’re back to the status quo, yes.” Edge stripped off his gloves, infinitely cautious of his sharpened fingertips as he gently cupped Stretch’s face, cradling it between his palms.

Stretch’s sockets went wide, unsurprisingly considering how rarely Edge touched him ungloved. That much, at least, was a vulnerability that Edge could offer him. “what do you—“

He broke off as Edge leaned in to kiss him, his sweet breath sighed out between them. It lasted longer than Edge meant, he lingered, one kiss merging into the next, the next, and he drew away with only the greatest reluctance, taking in the renewed haze in Stretch’s eye lights with satisfaction.

“I want to share my soul with you, love, I do. But I’m not ready yet,” Edge admitted. “Even knowing that you’ve already seen it I—I can’t.”

The gentle smile that softened Stretch’s mouth nearly made Edge lunge in for another kiss. “that’s okay. babe, seriously. i don’t need it. i love you, all of you, seen and unseen.” He cupped the side of Edge’s face, his thumb gentle as it ran Edge’s cheekbone, skirting along the crack that ran through it.

It wasn’t okay. Edge was no judge, but the unfairness of it grated; they should be equal partners, they should, he trusted Stretch beyond words, with his very life. And yet, showing his soul still felt like too much, an instinctive rejection of offering up his own weaknesses that even his brother’s training couldn’t overcome. As much as he hated himself for it, he couldn’t. Not yet.

But he couldn’t not give something. Stretch was touching his hands now, his blunted fingertips grazing against the slender, scarred bones, appreciating the novelty of it. That was something, but wasn’t enough, there must be some other vulnerability he could offer as proof of the measure of his trust. He had to equalize at least a little, couldn’t let Stretch bare himself down to his very essence every time and offer nothing in return.

It didn’t take much coaxing to get Stretch to shift back enough for Edge to settle next to him, nestled in as the smaller spoon. He took Stretch’s hands in his own, twining their bared fingers in a gentle knot, their wedding bands nested together in the same fashion as their bodies. “I’ve never told you why I’m afraid of spiders, have I.”

Stretch shifted, his arms briefly tightening, wary curiosity roused as he said, slowly, his warm breath brushing Edge’s skull. “no, you haven’t.”

The words were difficult, stalling unspoken on his tongue. Edge closed his sockets, and let his head fall back against Stretch’s sternum, right above where his soul would manifest if he called for it. With some difficulty, he dredged up his voice and the words came easier once they were begun, "When I was a child, my brother and I were living on the streets in New Home for a time--"

~~*~~

Some hours later, the chime of a phone woke Edge. He managed to detangle his hand from Stretch’s, fumbling out to check whatever message someone at the Embassy thought urgent enough to send in the middle of the night. But to his weary surprise, the phone he came back with was not his own, but Stretch’s.

Normally, Edge would respect Stretch's privacy and even if he didn’t, the whims of his Twitter menagerie held very little interest for him. But tonight, they’d earned their rest and he didn't want the phone to wake Stretch. He started to turn off the notifications then paused.

It was a text from Red. Another Judge and secret keeper, and Edge unlocked the phone to check it with hardly a twinge of guilt.

knock knock.

Edge considered the text, studying those words like the puzzle they likely were. Long minutes passed, then another light chime and the screen lit up.

c’mon, knock knock…please.

His brother saying please was surely a sign of impending doom. Morbid curiosity drove Edge to finally reply, who’s there.

iowa

iowa who

iowa big ass apology to you. sorry, kid.

Behind him, Stretch finally stirred, his chin digging into Edge’s scapula as he peered over his shoulder blearily, “who is it?”

"My brother. He's apologizing." And if a please meant impending doom, Edge had no idea what to make of that. Either they should be running for a bunker or buying a lottery ticket, there was no way to tell.

"hnnn,” Stretch sank back down and made a fair attempt at burrowing into Edge’s spine. Lacking that, he settled for the blanket and to be as close as physically possible, more so, Stretch did often treat time/space as less of a rule than a suggestion. “tell him he's a dick for me. a big ol' meaty one."

"I'll refrain from commenting on my brother's genitals in any capacity, if you don't mind, and tell him the apology is accepted."

“works for me.”

Edge sent the text and tossed the phone back on the coffee table. It was past midnight, they’d been asleep together for hours. “I should make something for a late dinner.”

Stretch’s grip abruptly became strangling, his slender arms more like steel. “Or I can stay here and we’ll eat later,” Edge conceded, sinking back down. The blankets were invitingly warm and so was Stretch, far more enticing than even the finest meal from the heavens, much less the leftovers in their fridge.

“good idea, glad you came up with it.”

“I have my moments,” Edge murmured, squirming loose enough to turn and rest his skull on Stretch’s chest. They’d never made it back out to the chicken coop, he realized, to see if Nugget’s persistence with her stolen egg was rewarded and how. Well, that could be dealt with tomorrow morning, along with checking in on Undyne. It seemed her baby shower would be postponed until the literal baby could attend themselves.

His drowsiness was beckoning him back down. Faintly, Edge could hear a soft throb from within the cage of Stretch’s ribs, the light, lulling pulse of his unsummoned soul, and Edge let sleep claim him again.

~~*~~

tbc

[everlarkficexchange]

All the World's a Stage

Prompt 31: “We never see you two so much as kiss in public but last night we all heard you having sex.” Submitted by Buttercupbadass

Rated E (Explicit): Mainly for language because Johanna is a potty mouth and so are other certain characters whilst mid coitus okay I don’t make the rules here so there’s more than one f-bomb therefore we rate it E. Also sexual content.

Written by: @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Beta reading by: @stjohn27

************************

Act 1

Johanna Mason loves her neighbors. That is to say, she loves the entertainment they provide her with. It’s a rotating show of fabulous, ridiculous, and delicious drama, and she has a window to each and every one of their lives. Literally.

Victor’s Square is not exactly a square. It’s more of an elongated rectangle shaped building consisting of thirteen apartments, a workout room, a community center, and an office, with a hollowed out central area for a pool. Honestly, the pool is the reason she picked this place instead of The Arbor, which is pretty damn swanky but somehow they forgot to include a pool, of all things, when they added their five thousand luxury amenities. Since Johanna likes sunbathing and not golfing (ugh boring!), Victor’s Square won out.

The three story design of the building, and her luck in snagging the single apartment on top of the office, means that at some point in the day, barring sun glare on glass or inconvenient curtains, she can see directly into every other apartment on the rectangle. Hence the entertainment.

She’s been privy to all sorts of great shit, and none of them seem to know exactly what they’ve given her. The best part is, they’re clueless. As soon as she realized they were basically living their lives on a stage for her, Johanna started parading around her own place with the curtains wide open…while naked. Stark fucking naked. Just to see what would happen.

And nothing changed. No one complained. Which granted, she’s got a banging body. Axe wielding will do that, but she can think of at least half a dozen residents who’d be put off by her exhibitionism. And yet… nothing. No one started suspiciously keeping their curtains or blinds closed when they hadn’t before. Since they’re all too dumb to figure out that their lives are her parade, she just popped the popcorn and settled in for the show.

Tonight, however, Johanna is in no mood for the show. After a late night shift ending a bitch of a week, all she’s in the mood to do is swim a few laps to get the grime off of her skin then lay back in one of the lounge chairs around the pool, listening to the hum of the air conditioners in the sweltering Carolina night, swatting at the mosquitos because she’s too damn lazy to light the citronella torches, and stare up at the rectangle of starry sky she can see.

It’s quiet tonight. She swims her laps, and it works wonders to relax her tired bones and even more tired soul. After, she lays out on one of the squeaky lounge chairs. The hum and the warm air make her drowsy. Inevitably, she begins to doze, with only a vague awareness of the passage of time and the sounds around her.

It’s the loud click and the whoosh that wakes her. Just for a moment. Not long enough to place it at all before she fades back out into half slumber. 

Her psyche is a bitch tonight, dropping long breathy moans into her dreams. The sex so good you can’t quite keep it in kind of moans, even though you’re trying. Completely aware that she messed up a truly great thing just days ago, she tells her subconcious to fuck off and stop reminding her of the one she let get away. Because she was stubborn. Unfortunately, her subconscious is not listening to her. Stupid fucker.

Scrunching up her nose, she refuses to move. She’s sticky with sweat and pretty sure that she’ll lose two layers of skin off her back and thighs when she goes to stand up from the lounge. Besides, there’s a low moaning noise that makes her wonder if maybe she wasn’t actually dreaming those sex sounds. 

The moans in her mind grow louder and slightly more frantic until she can place the heavy feeling in her limbs. She’s awake after too little sleep. 

Damn it. She’s not actually dreaming this shit. Which means one of her neighbors is on the brink of a seriously great orgasm. She’s not sure if she’s annoyed by the fact that she herself hasn’t had decent sex in far too long, or if she’s amused at yet another dramatic chapter in life at Victor’s Square.

The real question is… who’s doing the nasty tonight?

Act 2

A slight shiver and a thrill goes through Johanna as she finally opens her eyes and stares up at the canvas of stars above her.

Another moan ends in a slight squeal and fuck it, Johanna is hooked on the mystery. Shame she doesn’t have any popcorn down here, because given the sheer volume, and the way the sounds are magnified by the shape of the rectangle around the pool, she’s pretty sure whoever it is, they’re fucking with the windows open.

Kinky.

And a lot more interesting than her job. She does a happy little shimmy and settles in to guess who it possibly could be. First things first… she glances around the pool and discovers to her dismay that every apartment has at least one window open, but they’re all dark. Not surprising given that it’s well past midnight. But it’s unfortunately unhelpful. The air conditioner must be out again. That’s probably what that loud noise was earlier.

She closes her eyes again, hoping to pinpoint the direction of the sounds to figure out which of her neighbors is getting lucky tonight. But the shape of the building makes it impossible. Sounds just carry weird in this rectangular bullhorn. They could be coming from anywhere.

“Ung, yeah, right there… oh-oooooh!” The last sound is hitched and breathy. That’s a woman’s voice, Johanna thinks. 

“Yes. Don’t — don’t stop! – I –” The word is pinched off in a desperate sort of ecstasy and Johanna smiles. This could be fun.

It can’t be Caesar and Claudius, the two radio talk show hosts who live in apartment 6. They’re gay. And men. And a couple. But truthfully, she’s not at all disappointed that she can rule them out. She already knows more than she’d like to admit about their sexual habits. Usually she’s not one to kink shame, but electrodes on nipples is a little too close to the realm of torture for her tastes.

“Yes! Please!” the woman begs and Johanna feels her body flush with the erotic sounds, she’s half aroused but fully invested in figuring out who this is. She could of course, get up and walk around to triangulate the sound, but what’s the fun in that?

She quickly rules out Mags in apartment 5. She’s the sweetest old lady, surprisingly spritely. From what Johanna has seen from old pictures of her, Mags was a fucking dish in her youth, but now she’s gotta be pushing ninety. Besides the wrinkles (shudder), Johanna would be worried about heart failure if Mags were the one getting her boots knocked around with this much vigor.

The long moans shift to the choppy, catch breath ones that mean she’s close, whoever the lucky bitch is.

Cinna in apartment 3 is out. He’s ace. Asexual and aromantic. Claims that he’s in a love affair with his work. Well if she could design clothes like the ones Cinna does, Johanna would be willing to give up sex too. She snorts a little and turns her ear, hoping for a better angle on the sound. She’s pretty sure it’s coming from one of the upstairs apartments, but can’t be sure.

Whoever it is, she lets fly a single high pitched note. And then a long stuttering moan that just sounds exactly how it feels to come back down from a really good orgasm. Satisfied, relieved, a little sleepy and a whole lotta euphoric. 

Lucky bitch, Johanna thinks again. Her legs feel heavy and her toes tingle in empathy.

Now if only she could catch something of the partner’s noises…unless the woman is masturbating. Possible, but the directions to not stop earlier make it less likely.

A low pitched murmur and a deep masculine laugh helpfully nix that thought almost as soon as Johanna has it. 

Not flying solo, but also Johanna can now rule out Enobaria and Lyme from apartment 2. She’s never understood them exactly. On the surface, you’d think they’d be perfect for one another. Their personalities mesh in a weird kinda way. Enobaria is louder while Lyme is more dignified, but they’re so often bickering about politics… and the truth is, they have an open relationship.

Or at least Johanna assumes they do based on the number of not-Lyme women Enobaria has entertained shoved up against the glass door leading to their balcony…but if not, Johanna is perfectly willing to offer up herself as a rebound to Lyme when the inevitable shit hits the fan. That woman is built like a house and fucking sexy in a domineering sort of way. Like Brienne of Tarth hotness.

She can order me to submit anytime she wants, Johanna thinks with a smirk.

As if confirming her thoughts, a long deep moan drifts down to her ears, slow and almost silky. Delighted and yet a little astonished, like he can’t quite believe his luck. Definitely a dude. Blowjob or penetration? Either way, this guy’s pent up, she thinks. She’s also guessing that the girl’s orgasm was from fingering or cunnilingus, which means the show is not anywhere near to being done.

There’s only so many people left who it could be…

Her phone vibrates on her chest and she finally opens her eyes again, lifting it above her face and squinting at the overly bright screen.

Finnick: I can’t believe you’re sleeping on this. Do you hear this?!

Johanna frowns. The time stamp is right now. Which rules out Finnick and Annie in apartment 4. Damn it. They were the most obvious choice for a man-woman pairing going at it with this much abandon, and while Johanna is pretty sure they have mind numbingly, porn worthy good sex, they’re unfortunately discreet about it. 

It’s maddening.

Whenever she talks about Finnick and Annie, Johanna’s therapist always hums that way therapists sometimes do when they know you’re engaging in something destructive or unhealthy — such as a minor obsession with your best friend’s love and sex life — but the therapist wants you to figure it out on your own. Johanna can’t help it. Finnick’s a walking sexual fantasy for almost every woman out there. Even her lesbian friends find him hot. And Annie’s gorgeous. Johanna can’t help it if she not so secretly wants them to sandwich her. She’s got a good strap on that Annie could borrow to get it done.

But alas, or maybe fortunately, Finnick’s text eliminates them as the current lucky couple. Pity. She was hoping for something new to add to her spank bank.

Johanna: Where are you?

Finnick: Well we were asleep.

Johanna: Boring. You could be giving them competition.

As if to punctuate her point, a steady cadence of low, slow moans begins filling the air. They weave through the humidity and now Johanna is just angry.

Johanna: Do you know who it is? 

Finnick: Nope. I have my theories…

Johanna: Ugh spare me. 

There’s three potential couples left, and of those three, Johanna’s got a good guess who Finnick thinks it is, or at least wants it to be.

Johanna: I’ll gouge out my eyes if it’s them.

Finnick: Say it. Call them the name.

Johanna: I’m not using that stupid nickname, you absolute child

Finnick: Like you’re any better. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, stop. You’re gonna make me come,” the lucky man gasps. The woman must say something because he chuckles and whispers back to her, the tone traveling if not the words.  Johanna sets her phone down then, perked up by shuffling noises that sound maybe like a position change. 

So who is left…

There’s Haymitch and Effie. Those two… residents of apartments 9 and 11 respectively…they pretend like they hate one another, and maybe they really do. While Johanna enjoys their epic fights, she’s not overly fond of their making up sessions. She’s pretty sure Effie was some kind of tantric goddess or pretzel in another life with the way that woman can bend.

It’s…unnatural.

Her phone vibrates again and Johanna lifts it in front of her face, this time it’s a notification from Facebook, sent out to all the residents in the group.

Effie: I have already filed a complaint with Mr. Heavensbee in regards to the broken a/c. He says there will be a repairman here first thing in the morning. In the meantime, we should all attempt to be cordial in our behaviors and not disturb the other residents since all will likely have the windows open for the night.

A text almost immediately after let’s Johanna know what her friend thinks of that.

Finnick: Where’s your sense of fun, Effie?

Johanna bites back a snort. Although the notice does rule out the exuberant woman as a candidate for Porn Queen tonight, so Johanna texts Finnick again.

Johanna: My money is on Cashmere and Gloss

Johanna sends the text and waits for the response. She’s not disappointed. She cackles internally at the flood of barf emojis and angry exclamations she gets back. Cashmere and Gloss of apartment 1, or as Johanna likes to call them, The Lannisters. Because they may be brother and sister, but they’re totally doing the nasty. Really nasty.

No one believes Johanna about this, though, and she’s not about to tell the other residents how she knows it’s a fact, not just some cockamamy theory of hers. People get pushed off walls for things like that. 

Not to mention then they’d all figure out that she can see into their apartments as well and there goes that bit of fun. 

“Fuck,” the lucky dude draws the word out into almost a croak, and there’s a soft sigh from her.

Finnick: Something is wrong with you

Johanna: Do you think he’s well hung? Whoever he is?

Finnick: Who cares as long as he knows how to use it?

Johanna shakes her head at this, easily able to picture her friend wiggling his eyebrows. 

Johanna: He sounds well hung. It could still be Haymitch, sans Effie

After all, Haymitch isn’t officially tied down, and at the last residence brunch, Peeta’s good friend Delly was visiting and wasn’t at all subtle about her attraction to Haymitch. The girl was deceptively sweet, bubbly and innocent, but with those knockers on her chest and the way she kept laughing at Haymitch’s worst jokes, Johanna is pretty sure Delly has a thing for the much older man.

Finnick: I’m going to ignore your obsession with Haymitch’s junk for now. And also nope. Annie says she can see Haymitch through our window, sitting on his balcony, drinking.

Finnick: Alone.

Well damn. There goes that theory. Just to be sure, Johanna turns her head and cranes her neck. Sure enough, Haymitch sits on his balcony, lounged back in his chair with a glass in hand. After a second or two, he must feel eyes on him because he looks down towards Johanna and lifts the glass in toast.

Which is when the wall pounding begins and the lucky man’s moans start to grow out of control. Damn. They’re really into it now. 

Finnick: You know I’m right

Johanna: You’re ridiculous.

Finnick: It’s Peeniss. How much you wanna bet?

Johanna rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Finnick has some crazy theory that Peeta Mellark, baker and all around way too nice guy of apartment 8 is somehow secretly dating Katniss-I-Will-Shoot-You-If-You-Touch-Me-Everdeen of apartment 12. Not that the girl doesn’t need a good fuck. If anyone is desperately in need of a body shaking, mind blowing, toe curling orgasm, like the one currently building in the summer night, it’s that perpetually scowling and uptight bitch. 

Johanna just seriously doubts that the woman now moaning in cadence with the steady headboard thumps and the increasing volume is Katniss. She sounds way too into it, relaxed. Whoever she is, she’s getting nailed five ways to Sunday and is ecstatic about it.

It could be one of Katniss’ lovely roommates. Katniss lives with her younger sister and one of her best friends, Madge Undersee, in apartment 12. They’re crammed into it somehow… but before Johanna can suggest it to Finnick, she dismisses the idea. 

Prim’s at college, left three days ago…so it won’t be her. Shame. She’s been living under her big sister’s overprotective arch so long that the poor girl has got some catching up to do in the sex arena. College will be good for that, but it means she’s not the woman–

“Fuck yeah.” A resounding slap and the accompanying whimper make Johanna’s eyes go wide. “Lift that ass for me. Fuck yourself on my cock. Love it when you do that.”

Whoa. Okay.

It could be Madge. Or Gale who lives right next door in apartment 13, but they’re almost as unlikely candidates as Katniss. Johanna is pretty sure Madge is a lesbian. Closeted still, unfortunately, because Johanna wouldn’t mind burying her face between those creamy thighs. And Gale… well it could be Gale, Johanna supposes, with some lucky girl who doesn’t live in Victor’s Square. 

Maybe Delly.

Shame it’s not me, Johanna thinks and risks stretching a little. It has been her before, in her own apartment, because while Gale is usually down to fuck, he’s never down to doing it in his apartment. 

That’s because he’s got a massive boner for Katniss and isn’t willing to risk her knowing that he fucks around with at least half a dozen girls that are not Katniss. Masochist. That’s what Gale is. But it’s also why Johanna doubts that Gale is the guy currently balls deep in ecstasy. He’s too loud for someone who wants to keep his sex life secret from his neighbor.

As for Peeta…well it could be Peeta with a girl who isn’t Katniss. He’s handsome and sweet enough to get plenty of pussy, if he tried—

“No! Don’t stop!”

“You don’t get to come again just yet,” the man growls and Johanna automatically clenches her thighs at the commanding tone.

More shuffling and grunting. One yelp from her, then the pounding resumes. And doesn’t let up.

“Harder!”

Faster and faster, his moans keeping pace. The resounding slapping of skin.

 “Gonna – gonna!”

A chorus of “yes’s” and desperate pleas.

“Fucking yes! Peeta!”

Her phone goes off with a stupid amount of speed.

Finnick: I TOLD YOU!!!! 

Johanna types madly at this. 

Johanna: So it’s not the Lannisters, but that doesn’t mean it’s Katniss up there with Peeta. 

Finnick: Oh come on! Who else could it be? You know he’s got it bad for her!

Okay yeah, there is that. There’s also the fact that Johanna shouldn’t be so bitter about this. Just like Katniss is in dire need of a good fuck, so is Peeta. But based on the sounds and the things they said…

Whoever she is, she’s still squealing and the thumping hasn’t let up yet. Damn that’s a long orgasm, Johanna thinks with more than a little jealousy.

“Come for me. Fucking come inside me. Now. Peeta!” 

Those aren’t the words of a sexually frustrated prude talking, Johanna wants to say. Nor are they words of a couple going at it for the first time. Nope. This couple is way too comfortable with each other for it to be a first time. This couple has fucked before. Maybe often.

Go baker boy, Johanna wants to say, but she can’t imagine who he’s with. He hasn’t so much as brought a date home in a year.

A series of texts from Finnick crop up on her phone. Flame emojis and winking faces. An eggplant or two and the three drops of water people use to represent cum. Johanna slouches in her chair, a little miffed that she can’t shut Finnick up yet until…

There’s a deep growling, animalistic sound. A long string of curse words mixed with moans and then— 

“Katniss. Fuuuuuuuuck.”

The curse word takes him about a minute to get out all the way. Damn it, Johanna thinks. Now Finnick will be impossible to live with. She can’t even look at her phone as it blows up again, knowing that he’ll be gloating. Instead she turns it off. 

As carefully as she can, Johanna peels herself off the lounge chair and tiptoes towards the stairs, intent on reaching her own balcony. Not because it sits caddy corner to Peeta’s apartment and if they’re in his room, it’ll be easier for her to hear any pillow talk. Not at all.

She hurries and nearly gives herself away with the door, but manages it. She stands in the shadows of her balcony and nearly chokes on her tongue at the first thing she hears, besides the unmistakable sounds of coming down thrusts or sucks, maybe kissing, quiet aftermath moans.

“Hold still. I’m not done.”

“Feels too good,” he pants. “Can’t take much more, Katniss.” 

“Mmm, you’ll take it and you’ll like it.”

“Yeah, I will,” he says and she giggles. 

“Are you braiding my hair?”

“Can’t help it. You look so gorgeous sucking yourself off my dick… I can stop…”

“No… go ahead.”

Another few seconds of suction noises and then Peeta sighs in relief.

There’s the fwump and creak of a bed under weight. Johanna can practically see them all cuddled up like a cute little couple in his bed. Sighing and kissing and caressing in their afterglow. 

Disgusting.

“Such a cute ass, and all mine,” Katniss says and there’s a slap then a gasp.

Fucking hell, Johanna thinks, eyes bulging out of her head.

Who would’ve thought the two of them would be so wild in bed? Who would’ve thought they were actually fucking each other?

Johanna wrinkles her nose then, finally forcing herself to go inside her own place. Just out of curiosity, though, she chances one last peek at Peeta’s place. The curtains are drawn, but a helpful gust sucks them out the window just long enough for Johanna to catch a glimpse of two naked bodies on his bed, illuminated in the soft glow of a lamp. Katniss with her head tipped over the edge in the direction of the window and a smile on her face as Peeta kisses a lazy path over her body. Her fingers plucking absently at the tangled sheets.

Well damn and fuck.

Johanna heads to bed after that and prepares a salvo of taunting for tomorrow morning. There’s no way she’s letting something this juicy go unremarked upon, especially since literally everyone who was home would’ve heard it.

Act 3

In the morning, Johanna is up early and down at the community center well before the once a month residents’ brunch that Effie insists on hosting. Poor thing is pinch faced and pale this morning, flummoxed when Johanna offers to help set up.

“I suppose. Since no one else appears to be out and about yet. Nothing funny with the vegetables this time,” Effie chastises and Johanna salutes. She’s got better things planned than erotic displays with the produce.

Honestly, she couldn’t care less about the flower arrangements or the energy inherent in the order of food laid out on the table. Helping Effie this morning affords her a prime view through the community center windows of each stairwell and of everyone arriving this morning.

And not just for brunch, she thinks with a smirk as she spots Gale, still wearing his work shirt, sneaking up a stairwell towards apartment 13. 

Where have you been all night? Johanna wonders. Not with Katniss, the girl he’s so obviously got the hots for. Even better for the impending drama. She wonders if he’ll find his neighbors present or if Katniss is still cozied up with Peeta in post coital bliss. They’re probably totally morning sex people, Johanna decides.

Slow, sweet morning sex with loving words. Ugh, gag me, Johanna rolls her eyes at her own thoughts.

Preparations move swiftly after that, even with Effie on her case every few minutes. The pending drama is just too great to dampen her mood.

Peeta’s one of the first to arrive, conspicuously alone. He chats with Johanna for a few minutes, friendly as always, and then moves off as more of the residents arrive.

It takes everything in Johanna’s energy reserve to not throw something at the back of his head. He acts like he didn’t have the fuck of his life last night. It befuddles her and also infuriates her because it means Finnick could be right. 

Oh my god, Finnick could be right about them! They might actually be dating. Who’s to say they aren’t if they can keep their sex life together such a secret. If the air conditioner hadn’t failed…

Peeta’s nonchalance this morning throws all her arguments against Finnick’s stupid Peeniss theories out the window. How is that even possible? She had Peeta pegged as a total softie. Hand holding, nose rubbing, and obnoxiously cute, borderline clingy PDA type of guy, not a rail you into the bed then pretend I don’t even know you the next morning type of guy.

Huh. Pegging. Wonder if he’s into that, Johanna thinks then has to forcibly shake the image out of her head. Because not only does it make sense in a way, but the image is also…sexy as fuck. And she doesn’t need yet another happy dappy ass couple to fantasize about and maker her therapist hum at her in that knowing way.

Fuck Finnick and his stupid theories.

When the tenants of apartments 12 and 13 finally arrive together, Madge splits off to talk to Mags. Gale and Katniss are both suspiciously wet haired. If Johanna didn’t know any better, she’d guess that they were the culprits last night, especially when Katniss doesn’t even so much as look in Peeta’s direction.

Her cheeks are flushed, but she’s avoiding her fuck buddy, talking to literally everyone else, twisting the damp ends of her braid around her finger.

“What do you make of it?” Johanna asks Finnick, bumping her hip into his. He shrugs, with that insufferable smirk on his face that he always gets whenever he’s right.

For two people who were so clearly intimate last night, Katniss and Peeta are doing a pretty good job of acting like the other one doesn’t even exist.

“They’re just… both very private people. But the signs are all there for anyone paying attention.”

“But that’s the thing… the signs aren’t there!” Johanna protests. What game are they playing, she wonders.

“I just don’t get it,” Johanna says and Finnick glances down at her.

“What?”

She waves her hands at Peeta, who looks for all the world like he’s fascinated by whatever Caesar is talking about. But why would he be when Katniss is literally right there.

“They act like nothing happened.”

“Well we know something happened,” Finnick says conspiratorially. Then his smile slips. “Actually, everyone here knows about it.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Apparently everyone was home last night…”

“Not Gale,” Johanna adds and lifts one eyebrow. Finnick’s eyes go wide and his mouth turns round.

“Oh my. Delicious.”

“Isn’t it?”Johanna says. “But still… you wouldn’t guess it from the way they act.”

“They can’t stop looking at each other.”

Johanna turns her head and motions at them. Absolutely not looking at one another.

“Are not.”

“You missed it. Gotta be quick with these two.”

Johanna shakes her head as she watches Katniss, and Gale who is placing some kind of food on her plate. She’s nodding and listening to him but subtly shifting the food off to the side of her plate while picking up something else and nibbling on it straight away.

And finally, Johanna can’t take it anymore. She stomps over to the tables and loads up her own plate, absolutely not eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Thought you were gonna text me when you got off work?” Gale says.

“Oh. Something came up… Prim. Prim needed to talk.”

“Everything alright?” Gale asks.

And this time, Johanna just catches the quick dart of gray eyes towards blue. Peeta’s shy smile. Katniss’ swift flutter of lashes and nibble on her bottom lip before returning her attention to Gale.

“It is now.”

“Usually is after a seriously good orgasm or two. And by the way, that’s low, using your baby sister as an excuse,” Johanna snorts. She doesn’t mean to, but it just sort of slips out.

Katniss whips around to face her. Dark rouge staining her high cheekbones and her lips pinched together.

“My sister isn’t an excuse.”

“Oh please. Cut the crap.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Katniss hisses.

“I’m talking about the fact that we never see the two of you so much as kiss or even hold hands in public, but last night, I heard you having sex. Loud sex. Phenomenal, shake the rafters loud, sex.” Johanna smirks at the pair of stunned faces looking at her. And the dozen curious faces plus Peeta’s mortified one. All of them focused on her. Center stage, she thinks with a grin and waves a half eaten croissant around at the gathered crowd. “We all heard you. Except for Gale here who was probably out getting consolation tail since you didn’t text him. Really, Brainless, what do you expect if you and baker boy are gonna bang with the windows open?”

There’s ten seconds of stunned silence before Finnick shouts, “I figured it out first, by the way!” Then he grunts as Annie elbows him in the gut.

“Baker boy?” Gale practically growls and Johanna sashays away as Peeta steps over to stand behind a now scowling Katniss. Her hand clenches into a fist as she faces Gale. She leans back against Peeta’s chest, as if she knows he’s there before she even sees him. Good for her. At least she’s not going to shy away from it. But now they’re going to be every bit as insufferably disgusting as Finnick and Annie are.

Love’s a bitch, oh well. Time for that popcorn, Johanna thinks.

[xoluvx]

sex scene - zendaya x celeb!fem!reader

Warning: Smut. 

Word Count: 2.8K

Combining these two requests. Absolutely fell in love with the Euphoria sex scene concept. Enjoyyyy 💜*this took me all day to write so ya’ll better enjoy* 

NUMBER 1: Zendaya x celeb!Reader where they have to do a sex scene for the show euphoria. (Reader is female)

NUMBER 2: hi girl, can you do zendaya x fem!reader smut? i would love that and you are writing sooo fucking good

“Are you nervous?” your voice was barely audible, hushed and very much nervous. You were chipping at the single clear coat of nail polish on your fingernails, chewing on your bottom lip, but still trying to remain cool. Cool for her. But you were far from cool. Your heart was beating at a million miles per hour. Uncool. 

“Are you?” her voice made it worse. So gentle and soft. Soothing. Calming. Those were the words you would use to describe the sound of her sweet sweet voice. 

Were you nervous? Hell yes, you were nervous. This was the first sex scene you were ever going to film. The first time you’d be topless in front of an audience and later in front of who knows how many people. And the first time you had to pretend to be fucked by none other than Zendaya. Well, technically Rue. 

“Yes,” you huffed finally letting your chest deflate. Some of your nerves exiting your body, yet still lingering around your limbs. Limbs that were currently laying down on her bed. In her trailer. 

“Has anybody ever given you an orgasm?” you blurted not knowing what came over you. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was now coursing through your body at the thought of making sweet love to her or the thought of getting roughly fucked by her. Either way, you’d blurted it out and you were swimming in the silence. 

“No,” she said nonchalantly. Her expression was blank and you couldn’t quite figure out what she was thinking at this very minute. You weren’t sure if you wanted to find out. Lies, you did. You really did want to know more.

“You?” her responses were short, which made you nervous. Thinking she was being short because she felt uncomfortable, but nothing about her voice or her demeanor screamed discomfort. It was the complete opposite. She was sprawled on her bed, just like you. Her head tilted towards you, hands resting on her belly. She wasn’t fumbling like you were with your nails. She was just chilling. 

“No,” you responded. You really wanted to divert your eyes from hers from the embarrassment. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t look away from those beautiful orbs that sucked you in. You wanted to get lost in them. If she’d let you. 

“That sucks,” she replied turning her attention from you and propping up her body, sitting up on the bed. “Want to run lines?” she asked letting her hand fall on the bed with a thud. Her eyes on you once again.

“I think I’m going to head to wardrobe ,” you lied not wanting to get into it again. You’d already ran lines with her almost every day leading up to today. Filming day. Each day something new in you awoke. Something new was unveiled about your feelings towards her and you didn’t think you could get into it right before filming. You couldn’t afford to be a flustered mess on camera, too. 

“Okay, I’ll see you soon,” she smiled sweetly as she watched you stand from the bed, giving her a small wave before leaving the trailer leaving her in silence.

You were jumping right into the middle of the scene. The part where you ripped each other’s clothes off would be filmed later. The actual “sex” was top priority right now. 

The robe you were wearing did very little to make you feel covered. You still felt very much naked. Bare. Exposed. You would be in a couple of minutes, but you were shivering now as if you were naked already. Granted, it wasn’t a full on nude scene. You were wearing a pair of very small nude underwear. It was still nerve wracking. 

And the chills only intensified when you saw her walk in. She was wearing a robe of her own. You knew she wouldn’t be completely naked under it, not like you. Zendaya didn’t do nude scenes, but the illusion wouldn’t hurt. 

“Nervous?” she asked watching you cling to the tie of your robe, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You simply nodded, forming a small smile trying to keep your shit together. 

“It’s okay. I got you,” her words were like warm soup on a chilly day. She made you feel so warm inside, so calm, peaceful, and safe. The worries left your body. Hands no longer shaking as you removed the robe from your body exposing your still shivering figure. The sudden exposure caused your nipples to harden and you were sure she noticed because her eyes lingered on your breasts longer than normal. 

She cleared her throat diverting her gaze before removing her robe. You weren’t as obvious with your stares. But boy did you stare. Her legs, her flat stomach, defined ass, and the smooth skin of her breasts covered by the nude fabric. You gulped trying to think non-provoking thoughts. You needed to get through this scene in one piece and you were already in pieces. 

She just did things to you. 

“Alright, we are going to jump right in. This is Rue’s first time experimenting and it’s with a complete stranger. Y/n you’re on the bed, head on pillow. Zendaya you are between her legs, hovering over her.” Zendaya nudge you towards the bed and you blinked snapping yourself back to reality. 

You made your way towards the bed. Your heart was beating, your hands were cold, and you were sure everyone could see the goosebumps that’d form on your skin. The mattress was cold as you rested your back on it, it didn’t help with the goosebumps. 

Zendaya crawled on to the bed, hovering over your body. She positioned herself between your legs, her hands resting at the either side of your face. It was really hard for you to breath right now. How the hell were you going to get through this without falling apart? 

“Let’s start with just kissing, just let your body fall on hers Zendaya,” you heard the director call out. Your mind was foggy, you’d forgotten how to kiss. What the actual fuck was wrong with you? Oh, but let’s not forget, her body was now pressed against you. Your naked body pressed on her. She was pressed on you.

Zendaya brought her hands up to your face, she felt warm to the touch. Her hand caressing your jawline as the other pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Her eyes were burning holes into you as she inched closer. Her head coming down to capture your lips. Your arms wrapped around her torso, getting into character. You were an actress. Act like you weren’t freaking the fuck out. 

“Perfect,” you heard from behind the camera. Oh right, cameras were rolling now. Of course, Zendaya wasn’t kissing you passionately for no reason. 

But you couldn’t help but get lost in the sweet taste of her lips. The kiss was gentle, but there was an underlying fervor. As the scene called for. First encounter, tentative yet needy and longing. The kiss picked up tension as her hands tangled in your hair, her lips a little more forceful, her body pressed down on yours. 

You were melting, but trying so hard to hold yourself together. Your own hands wrapping around her shoulders, bringing her closer. So close you didn’t hear the director calling ‘cut’ a dozen times.

“CUT!” 

Zendaya was the first to pull away, breathless. Her chest was heaving, you could feel the way it was moving rapidly against your own. Her hands loosening the grip on your hair, but still tangled in it. Your eyes fluttered, lips parted; imprinted with the touch of hers. They were tingling and longing for more. 

“That was great, very realistic,” the director stated glancing between the two of you. Eyebrows lifted, sending the two of you a knowing look. 

You cleared your throat bringing your body up on your elbows, forcing Zendaya to roll off you. This was only the beginning. You knew what was coming would be ten times worse for you. You were already beyond flustered and you were sure you were soaked. 

Zendaya had to pretend she was eating you out while they got close ups of your face and point of view shots of you looking down at her and you just couldn’t process any of it right now. Your head was fogged with thoughts of the kiss, with thoughts of how wet your underwear was right now, and how you were going to survive without literally cumming while she pretended to go down on you. 

“I think we are going to stop there. We will pick up later with the clothes coming off,” the words were both glorious and disappointing. You weren’t ready for Zendaya to be down between your legs, at least not in a ‘pretending’ way. But you were disappointed that you wouldn’t spend more time with her. Ugh, why were feelings so confusing? You scrambled to your feet, retrieving your robe and quickly slipping it on. 

It hadn’t been more than 10 minutes since you’d settled in your trailer. You’d slipped on your favorite oversized t-shirt not bothering to put on pants, only changing the pair of underwear that had, indeed, been soaked. Your face was nuzzled into the fuzzy blanket you made sure to carry around with you everywhere. Your mind flooded with thoughts of her lips, her hands in your hair, her body pressed up against yours.

Your eyelids felt heavy. Maybe you were exhausted from the heated make-out session or the thoughts that were running through your head, but you felt your eyes closing. A wave of relieve washing over your body as you cozied up to your blanket. 

That is, until you heard an eager knock on your trailer. Ignore it, your brain told you. But your body was already lifting itself from the couch, making its way towards the door, sluggishly. You opened the door slowly. The last person you were expecting was standing at the door. Her leg tapping rapidly, teeth chewing on her lip. 

When she heard the creak of your door, she turned her attention to you. Her eyes wild, hair still very messy, but she was now wearing her normal clothes. Before you could ask why she was here, her body launched towards yours. Her hands finding their rightful place on your face. Fingers spreading over your cheek, lips crashing into yours with urgency and longing. 

You blinked. Her lips moved. You closed your eyes savoring the taste of her lips. Still soft. Still sweet. With confidence, and you had no idea where it came from, your arms clung to her back pulling her closer. If that was even possible. Bodies molding. Lips connecting and reconnecting. Tongues now wrestling. 

You felt your body move with hers as she kicked the door closed before pushing you forward. The back of your legs hit the couch that was in your small trailer, you didn’t have a bed like she did, and you let your bodies tumble on to the cushions. 

Holy shit, was this happening? You had to remind yourself how to breath through your nose as the kiss grew hungrier and needier. 

The kiss was electric, but nothing compared to the feeling of her hand running up your thigh. Fingers grazing your skin before finding their way under your t-shirt. She wasn’t scared. She knew what she wanted. The way she cupped your breast proved that and the way she started moving her hips against yours solidified that this was, indeed, happening. Right here. Right now. 

“Orgasm?” she breathed against your lips as her hand ran down the side of your body and towards your thigh again. Grabbing a hold of your thigh, she lifted it so that it wrapped around her waist, her hips still moving creating a friction that was unbearable. Hell yes, you wanted her to give it to you. 

You whimpered as you felt her lips travel from your lips to your jaw, peppering small kisses until she reached your neck. She knew just what to do. The spots to kiss, the spots to lick. The spots to send you to heaven and back. Her fingers hadn’t touched the most sensitive part of you yet and you already felt tight inside. Like you were going to burst, any second. 

“Please,” you begged breathing heavily. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, hands flying to her head burying themselves in her hair as you pushed her down gently. Her mouth, her mouth needed to be on you. Now. 

She knew that, because in no time her fingers were hooked in your underwear. Pulling them down as she came down between your legs. You were throbbing, your eyes were shut closed. Too afraid to see her seeing you. She was so close to the most intimate part of your body, how could you not feel some type of way? 

You weren’t sure if Zendaya had done this before. You highly doubted it. With the way her fingers shyly ran along your core. Her mouth parting, eyes scanning the foreign territory. You opened your eyes waiting to see her next move. Your hands found their place in her hair, fingers digging into her scalp. 

Your eyes weren’t open for long because her tongue was on you in a matter of seconds. Still shy, but oh so fulfilling. Her tongue was cold against your warm core which was yearning for her touch. She was giving it to you and you were satisfied. You didn’t think it could get better than this until she started moving her tongue. She licked a long strip along your pussy eliciting a loud moan. 

“Sorry,” you breathed. Why were you apologizing? You didn’t fucking know. Nothing made sense right now. Her lips suctioning around your clip, her tongue slowly rotating and flicking, thumb pushing into your pussy. It was all too much. But the good kind. The kind that made you see stars. The kind that made your toes curls, your insides burn, and your eyes flutter. 

“Don’t apologize,” she muttered against your pussy. The vibrations of her voice against your pussy intensified the feeling of her movements. Her thumb now replaced with two fingers steady pumping in you. Curling upward. 

You arched your back pushing your hips forward. You were so close. You’d only felt the tight feeling in your pussy and the tingling in your feet when you touched yourself. You didn’t know it was possible for someone else to make you feel this way. And you were in awe that the person who was doing this to you was none other than Zendaya herself. 

“I’m close,” you whimpered, your brain literally could not articulate thoughts let alone a coherent sentence. 

Your whimpered seemed to have had an effect on Zendaya, whose fingers had now picked up their pace. Her face buried between your legs, tongue pressed against your clit focusing on the sensitive nub. She was determined, she wasn’t going to stop until you came. Until she made you cum. 

You were shaking under her touch. Literally hips convulsing matching her movements seeking your high. You could touch the stars that were twinkling under your lids when you closed your eyes. And you could feel the sweet sweet release. 

You don’t know how, and you didn’t really care, but within seconds you felt a shock of pins and needles coursing from the bottom of your feet all the way up to your core. You felt yourself clenching around her fingers. Your clit pulsing against her tongue. Flashes of colors projected behind your lids. 

The feeling was blinding and you couldn’t control the sounds that were currently coming out of your lips. The sound you were making weren’t like anything you’d ever experienced. But hell, what Zendaya had just done to you was something you’d never experienced before. 

Zendaya held her position for a few seconds, your hands still buried in her hair holding her close to your core. The warmth of her breathing was bringing you comfort as you came down from the clouds.

Her hand sprawled across your torso, reaching up to grab a hold of your jaw. 

“How was that?” she asked bringing her body upwards so that she was hovering over you, hand caressing your cheek now. She watched the way you batted your lids, your lips parted as you tried to find the words to describe what you felt. You couldn’t. 

Instead you pushed your face up, bringing one of your hands to the back of her head pulling her into a heated kiss. You don’t know how long it lasted. Must have been seconds, but it felt like hours. When you both needed air, you pressed your forehead against hers. Arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“How about I show you?” you whispered against her lips connecting them yet again. 

You were definitely going to show her.