#i was scared to write the smut

[krys4h]

𝐞𝐦𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ☆

𓍯 taking someone's virginity in a room you didn't remember entering wasn't in your plans tonight, but alcohol and Choso was a deadly combo.

contents : 4.3k, au university, fem!reader, virgin!choso, tattooed!choso, nsfw, smut with plot, alcohol, dry humping, masturbation, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, first time, creampie, praise, oral sex (f receving), pet name (baby), choso is a softie, confident reader, reader has acrylics, lot of jewelry and a belly piercing, the warped tour is still active, minors dni.

The exams was finally over and everyone only wanted one thing : partying.

You were no different. Dressed in a flattering tank top that hugged your chest beautifully and a slim jeans, you were ready for to have fun. It felt good for you to have the opportunity to get dolled up, you barely had the energy to do your makeup sometimes when you were focused on your studies. But now you had plenty of times to take care of yourself and wear cute outfits at parties like now.

The party was giant, you weren’t close with the person who hosted it, but they certainly had money. Most of the people was smoking in living room, the smell of weed was omnipresent. The music blasted loudly in the big speakers, you needed sometimes to cover your ears to listen to your friends.

“What?” you repeated a few times, lowering your head to them. “Haunted” by Beyoncé was playing and you couldn’t help vibing to the song. It was a remix with the ending of it extended and it intensified the sound beautifully.

“Isn’t that Choso?” your friends pointed, and that alone caught all your attention.

You stopped immediately what you were doing and glanced at the direction they were looking in. Alone against a wall and far from the crowd, your crush was standing with a red cup in hand. You heart raced at the sight. He wasn’t the type to party, so you were excited to see him here.

“Sorry, I’ll be back later,” you smiled at your friends, your eyes on him, your feet already moving.

They chuckled, knew already that you would do that. Everyone knew you had a thing for him, except him maybe. Choso wasn’t really the most intuitive person on earth, he kind of struggled with a lot of things socially. But you always loved his aloof behavior, he had that “nerdy charisma” that was difficult to explain.

Lost in thoughts and his head lowered, he didn’t noticed you approaching first. It was when he hear the near heels and jewelry sounds. His eyes looked up to you and his heart raced when he realized you were coming for him. He shifted a bit, gripping his cup. If you weren’t used to see in you English class, you would think he hated you with the distant air he displayed. But you knew deep down that Choso was a softie.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a soft voice, a cup similar to his in your hand.

“Hey.” His eyes shifted, looking down, avoiding looking at you.

You leaned against the wall next to him, your head side on it. You stared at Choso, noticing his eye bags. It was kind of sexy on him.

“It’s cool to see you, you’ve never came in these type of parties,” you said, the alcohol making you way more extroverted than you were. Your gaze lingered on his rock band shirt, pulled a bit on it. “My chemical romance?” you raised an eyebrow, “Is that what you’re listening when you have your headphone?”

Heat came to his face when you tugged on his shirt, he tried to play it cool.

“Yuji wanted me to go with him so… Yeah, I listen to-”

“You’re not gonna look at me?”

He scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks pinkish.

“Sorry,” Choso mumbled, finally laying his eyes on you but your beauty slapped his face. This is exactly why he preferred looking at the ground. It would never make him agitated and mesmerized like you did now. You were glowing with your makeup and the earrings you were wearing, he liked everything about your appearance.

His gaze fell on your lips for a second, absorbed by your lipgloss but shifted quickly to look away, not wanting to be impolite.

You chuckled, finding cute how anxious he was for you. He wasn’t like that with anybody in the campus, barely even acknowledged people and showed emotions on his face. You got closer to him, enjoying your unusual confidence.

“You seems nervous,” you smiled, sipping on your cup.

God, you were making this hard for him.

“No, I-”

“You know, I have an idea,” you placed you cup on a nearby surface. He widened his eyes when you wrapped your arms around his neck, his breath coming short.

“Why don’t you have fun with me? It’s better than staying alone here,” you whispered, you face close to his. You stared at his lip piercings, already feeling your stomach warming at the idea in your head.

You were too intoxicated to be embarrassed of yourself, nothing could stop you.

“Uh, I…,” Choso stammered, he almost lost balance when you clanged to him, forced to hold your waist.

His head was gonna explode. He never really spoke to any girls, and was even scared to say anything to you in class. He had a thing for you since the day he saw you, but was inexperienced with women.

Sure that your feelings was reciprocated because of his nervousness, you didn’t waste time. You leaned against him and his breath stopped when your lips met his. The fervor with which you kissed him made him weak, his hands trembled against you. He couldn’t believe what was happening, yet he didn’t reject you. He dreamed of this many times.

Your tongue grazed at his snake bites piercings and he let out a low gasp in your mouth. His heart pounded, he was overwhelmed by you, not knowing what to do but letting you dominate.

Pressed against the wall, he forgot all the people surrounding the two of us, only feeling your tongue.

“So?” you breathed against his lips.

He nodded almost immediately. You smirked before leaning to make out again.

You don’t know how the two of you found a way toward an empty room, your mind too hazy to grasp anything, but you know how cold his tongue piercing could be when he brushed it against yours.

Holding you by the waist, Choso carried you while kissing you. His tongue strokes was a bit clumsy, but he tried his best to follow you. You dipped your hand in his long hair, moaning softly when he knocked you against a door. He struggled to find the door handle, too busy grinding against you. He wanted to be buried in you so bad, his mind was in fire. He never felt that type of urge before. Everything was happening so fast for him, he only acted on instinct now.

He opened the door with his left hand, his right arm below your ass to lift you. His ease to carry you was making you excited to see what he hid below all these a band shirts. The room was small library with a relax corner, illuminated by a luxurious low lamp. You didn’t waste any time once he sat on the sofa.

As you sat on his lap, your hips rolled against his erection and Choso let out a strangled gasp, jolting. Your hands clanged on his shirt in his back with an enthusiasm that could scare him if he wasn’t as intoxicated as you. The sound of the party outside the door was muffled, you ears peaked at each of his sighs. Choso fondled your ass, gripping at it. The friction of your jeans rubbing against each other made him hissing, his expression contorted in a grimace.

He dreamed of this moment, having your ass in full display, his hands free of touching you all over. His eyes looked up to you.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed, slightly panting.

“Don’t worry.”

You took his hands and placed on your hips. He swallowed, still unsure of himself.

Anybody looking at Choso knew he never felt the touch of a woman. He barely opened his mouth in class, wasn't very approachable and everything that wasn't about Yuji and rock seemed to disinterest him. You never saw him talking to anyone beside his little brother and you wouldn’t be surprised if you were his first kiss now. 

You continued to grind against him, savoring the sensation of your jeans rubbing against your clothed clit. You were already wet down here, your mind wasn’t even thinking of a plan, you were just vibing. The friction felt so good. His hands shook on your hips, nervous.

You gave him a languid kiss and caressed his chest, trying to ease his anxiety. You swallowed all of his sighs and gasps.

“Is this your first time?” you whispered next to his ear, “You don’t have to do it, I can stop now if you want.”

Your hands in his hair and your breath in his neck was too much for him. He struggled to respond.

“It’s okay, I…” he begun and cleared his throat, “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Can I show you?”

You placed your hands on his.

“How do you want me to move?” you smiled at his nervous gaze, “Choose the pace.”

His grip was hesitant at first, his palms sweaty. As you rode him, he slowly took charge and guided your movements. His warm breath caressed your neck as you rubbed against each other.

Your close-fitted top was making his jean tighten every time you rolled your hips and your chest went in front of him. He fought the urge to lift his hands to grab your breasts. You nuzzled his neck, inhaling softly.

“Can I…?” he breathed.

“Mmm?”

He mimicked you, leaning down on your neck. Your breath hitched when his lips teased your skin. His touch was unsure, testing the waters, but goes more confident when he pressed soft kisses along your throat. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he knows he wanted to make you feel good. Dreaming about you was cool, but now you were his lap.

You lowered your hands on his shoulders and caressed them, biting your lip every time your clit rubbed against the bulge of his jean.

“You’re doing well.”

He bring you closer, moving you faster.

“Am I?” he panted, looking up to you. “You’re so beautiful.”

His eyes was brilliant, mesmerized by you. Your stomach warmed at his compliment and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You’re so cute.”

He was doing a dangerous game talking to you like that. Your panties was already soaked from the back and forth, if he said more things like that with that low voice of his, you don’t know what you would do. Maybe sucking him off, just to hear him moan your name. Or maybe it was just the alcohol that was making you crazy with a simple phrase of him. In any case, you stood anyway, your hands on his shoulders. He looked up at you with a confused expression.

“Can I do something?”

“For me?” he frowned, as if displeased with the idea. He brought you closer, your hand played with his dark strands of hair. “I want to do something too.”

You titled your head.

“Like what?”

His hands grazed your ass, his cheeks pinkish.

“Can you just…” he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you on his lap and laid you down on the sofa. “Just tell me how to do it.”

He didn’t wanted to be the disappointment of your night so he swallowed his anxiety and bent toward you. He stood with his elbows each side of your stomach and gazed at your belly piercing. Your stomach contracted with anticipation, understanding what was going trough his head.

“You sure? You don’t have to-”

“Can that pretty mouth of yours let me please you?” he stopped you, staring at you. He bit the inside of his mouth and blushed at his own assurance. You smirked, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Okay, baby.”

His erection intensified when he heard the pet name. Choso looked down, and swallowed a bit. He closed his eyes a moment, inhaling before starting to kiss your skin. You hold you breath. His lips roamed around your lower belly, he tasted the skin he dreamed to feel against his tongue. You stroked his hair to encourage him, feeling the softness of his black strands. His fists tensed as your acrylics grazed at his scalp.

“Uh…”

He didn’t know if he should go straight to it, or still kiss you. He hesitated and paused his mouth near your jeans button.

“Do I…”

“It’s fine.”

You helped him unbuttoning your trousers. He looked down on you.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve never seen.”

You chuckled as you lifted your hips to take off your jeans, and threw it below the sofa. His mouth went dry at the sight.

“You’re so…” Choso was at a lost of words. The teasing look of your face, the wet trail of his kiss on your abdomen and your lace tong was too much for him. He wipe off his sweaty hands on the couch, and brushed the side of your thighs.

“I’m sorry if I’m bad,” his lips hovered over your lower body.

“Choso, I think you’re already doing a pretty good job.”

“Really?”

His pulled a bit on the elastic of your panties.

“Yeah,” you shifted on the couch, your hands on his shoulders.

He raised his eyes a bit to see your reactions, he wanted to make sure he was doing the good thing. His warm breath hit your clothed cunt, throbbing in anticipation. Without warning, he pushed the tissue of your panties to the side and kissed you.

You jolted and gasped, your hands clenched in his hair. He backed down a bit, his face worried.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No…” you shook your head and relaxed a bit, “I was just surprised.”

He craved you. He wanted to do so many things at once to you that he ended up speeding up the process. But his passion for you could overcome his inexperience if he tried hard. You knew it the second he buried his tongue in you, tasting your juices with enthusiasm. You chocked and tightened your legs around his head. He wasn’t hesitant at all.

“Show me,” he whispered.

You placed your hands on his head and guided his movements. Choso dived to your folds with his tongue, lapping up and down. You let out a low moan, he was inexperienced but he was so eager to please you, his devotion excited you so much. Your taste on his tongue was making him crazy. He craved your taste and ate you out with fervor. As you grind on his face, he held your legs against his head.

His heart raced with nervousness, his mind full of doubts. Was it good? Was it too fast? Despite that, he pushed his tongue in you with force and vigor, eager to make you more moan that you were already. You were so soaked, his mouth made lewd noises every time he moved his head up and down, making circles with his tongue. His face wet in your juices, you guided him toward your clit that he sucked with greed. You shifted on the couch, throwing your head back. You were a mess, the room was filled with your panting.

“Choso,” you breathed, “Here,” you guided him, showing where to suck and lap, and he gladly followed you.

The pit in your stomach grew as the cold metal of his tongue piercing brushed your clit and made you jolt again.

“F-Fuck!”

You struggled to stay still as you shifted on the sofa. You trapped him between your legs, he continue to ate you out, with his eyes closed, his mind dizzy. He was in heaven, you tasted so good, this is was beyond everything he dreamed for. His nose rubbed your sweet spot every time he moved his head, causing you to pant even louder.

“Come here.”

He looked up to you, his mouth still making out with your cunt.

“You want me to…”

“Yeah.”

Choso paused. He gazed at your feverish eyes, feeling a strange sensation in his stomach. He was the reason you were aroused, you seemed satisfied but he didn’t saw you come. Did he do something bad? Sensing his doubts, you smiled to him.

“Don’t worry baby, you did good,” you straightened on your elbows. “I want just need more, okay?”

You loved how devoted he was to you, but he was still inexperienced, and you knew you needed more than that. You didn’t want to make things awkward for him if it was getting repetitive, and you didn’t finish. He nodded, and get closer to kiss your cheek. He wet your skin with your slick.

“I don’t have any protection.”

“I don’t need one,” you said, tugging at his jeans. You were on pills.

He wipe off again his sweaty hands on the sofa and inhaled. It was the moment he waited for. The moment he couldn’t ruin because he liked you too much to disappoint you. Outside the door, the party continued, people unaware of what was going between you and Choso.

He stood on his knees, taking off his band shirt. Your breath caught in your throat as you discovered his lean torso. You made a mental note in your head to never underestimate introverted guys from now, because, God, he was sexy. You caressed his sides, touching his tattoos. His abs tensed when he bent over you, tilting his head. He had a shy expression on his face.

“I’m sorry if…”

“Can you just fuck me already,” you spread your legs, staring at him standing up on your elbows.

He gulped. He took off his shoes with a simple gesture of his feet, throwing them on the floor. He got closer to you, looking at you as you undressed yourself, removing the rest of your clothes. His mouth watered at your chest, he leaned down to kiss it. With the palm of his hand, he fondled one of your left breast and sucked the nipple of the right. Your fists tighten on the sofa, breathing softly.

Choso leaned back to unbutton his jeans, his muscular chest and tattoos in display. You bit the inside of your mouth, and started to caressed yourself while looking at him. He froze and widened his eyes, caught off guard. You were so fucking hot, he couldn’t believe he really had you below him. His eyes followed your movements and lingered on the circles you were doing on your sweet spot. You fingered yourself and his mouth watered again. As he quickly stripped off himself, you silently prayed nobody would enter the room, not forgetting you were at a party.

You were already close from him eating you out, but your pussy clenched when you saw his length. He looked like he didn’t get bitches, but damn. You were already excited to feel him inside you.

And him too because he slid into you without warning. He immediately caught his breath, overwhelmed by your wetness and the warmth of your entrance. It felt incredible, like anything he felt before. You whined, already sensitive, your fingers pressed against your clit.

“Wait,” you needed time to adjust to his size, and he was too abrupt.

He nodded, and let you the time you needed. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and you gave him a soft smile, your stomach warmed up. He was so sweet with you, he really treated you like someone he cared for.

He pushed his cock deeper inside you and you placed your hands on his hips, guiding him. He needed to contain himself and took things slowly. He knew he was a virgin, so it was already miracle he didn’t finished the second he was inside you. He bent over, his hand on the backrest of the couch, and thrust into you in a slow motion. He panted, his forehead sweating. Your slick covered his cock as he pulled out with caution, and he shut his eyes tight, thrusting again. Your warmth welcomed him, the sensation was divine. He did his best not to move too fast, he was scared to ruin the moment and finish early.

At first, it was what he wanted. He wanted to keep his pace gentle and precise, holding your legs around his waist, putting you in a comfortable position. He wanted to hear your soft sighs when he pushed against you, to continue to feel your acrylics planted in his biceps, to hear your hoop earrings hit against the sofa as he rocked his hips against you. But when your hands pressed his butt against you to feel him better, he lost his mind.

The room was now filled with your pants and whimpers, Choso pounding into you as if he would die if he didn’t make this right. He wasn’t jackhammering, but fucking you with long and deep strokes. He needed to fill you, and see your body twitching as he buried his cock in you.

“Is it too fast?” he panted out.

“No, it’s perfect,” you rolled your hips and followed his frantic pace.

His cock filled your tight walls as he stretched you to his size. You were a mess and breathing heavily as you clenched around his length. A gasp escaped your mouth when his thrusts became more and more aggressive.

“I dreamed of this.”

He was at lost of breath.

“I dreamed of…”

He let out a low moan, his back and forth quicker and harder. A familiar coil in your lower abdomen, your fingers circled around your spongey spot as you panted. Your body twitched when he lifted your hips even more, pushed to hilt and flushed his pelvis against you.

“C-Choso,” you stuttered and clenched your thighs around his waist.

“It’s okay, I got you.”

It was supposed to be you who reassured him, not the other way around. He gained confidence in his movements and slammed into you with force. He was fucking you with an ardent energy, your hands shook as you struggled to even touch yourself. You stammered incomprehensible things. His grip on the sofa was tight as he pounded into you. He was immersed in the sight of your tits bouncing, his mouth open and panting. He was in heaven.

Your back and forth made lewd and wet noises as you milked him, the sensation was divine for him. His hips stuttered when you tightened around him. You shut your eyes tight as you arched your back. Your orgasm traveled your body with a tremendous force. Choso’s eyes roved over you, taking in your sight as he drove his cock in you. He was so close. He lost himself within you, his strokes sloppy.

He tried to resist to the imminent feeling before his weight crashed you. His dick twitched as he emptied himself inside of you. He fell between your breasts, his breath coming in short pants, just like you. The smell of sex and sweat enveloped the two of you. For a short moment, none of you talked.

“Wow,” he turned his head on the side.

You wrapped your arms around him.

“I told you we were gonna have fun.”

He smiled against your skin.

“Yeah, but I never thought you would be…” his voice grew hesitant, “Into me.”

“You have to be blind,” your hands stroked his hair and he closed his eyes. “Everybody knew it.”

“Really?”

“My friends wouldn’t even be surprised if I told them what we did.”

His arms encircled you and he nuzzled your chest. He pressed soft kisses around your breasts, his touch gentle and not as sexual as before.

“I can’t believe what we did.”

“We can do it again if you liked it.”

He widened his eyes and you burst into laughing.

𖥸

“You sure you’re okay? Wasn’t it too rough in the end?”

“You’re so cute, Choso.”

You were sharing a blunt with him on a bench, surrounded by bushes and shrubs, not far from the party. The weed had a calming effect on you, and you were smiling since the two of you dressed yourselves. Choso’s worry was so cute to watch, he was almost apologizing for everything he did.

“Why aren’t you asking for my number instead of talking?” you glanced at him as your lips wrapped around the blunt and took a drag.

Choso blushed, caught off guard and shifted on the bench.

“It’s true…”

He swallowed and scratched the back of his neck. Choso was shy as if he wasn’t fucking you 20 minutes ago. And honestly, it was hot. Nothing was more attractive than a guy intimidated by the girl he liked. You loved his complexity, his introverted distant nature who could becoming gentle, shy and even rough.

“So…”

He pulled out his phone and tilted his head towards you.

“Yeah?”

You smiled at him, holding the blunt between your fingers.

“Can I have your number?” his eyes lingered on your lips. “And... are you free this summer?”

You gave him what he wanted and raised your eyebrow. You thought he would ask you out on weekends, but not on a specific period of time.

“It depends, why?”

He looked away for a second before responding.

“I bought tickets for the Warped Tour,” he begun, fidgeting his hands, “Yuji chose to spend his summer with Megumi so…”

His voice was hesitant, but his gaze softened when he saw your bright smile. He wasn’t sure he were into rock or even into festivals, so he was reassured.

“Of course!! You need to give me your playlist,” you scrolled on your phone with enthusiasm, and he escaped a light chuckle.

The wind breeze caressed your skin as you laughed and chatted together. He never came to these types of parties before, but now was forever grateful to come to this one.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

[hueseok]

might drop this fic next week! i’m like 75% done which is surprising for me who hasn’t been writing new fics for bts in a long time 😫 I AM PUMPED AND SCARED BUT YEAH THIS IS A LITTLE SNEAK PEEK I GUESS????

UPDATE: already uploaded the fic here !

[writingfreezer]

you had been curious about his horns and tail, and dan heng was kind enough to let you touch them. what he didn’t anticipate was how intense the whole situation was about to become.

as your fingers delicately gracing his tail had slowly moved up to his base, his self-control had faltered with it. even though his tail was made out of mostly water, you somehow had found a way to squeeze around it to make dan heng shiver from the contact. you could see how he was biting his lower lip in order to keep the slutty moans that wanted to spill from his mouth to himself.

”does this feel good, babe?” you asked, voice sultry. your inner cheek was almost bleeding with how much you had bitten it in order to keep yourself from smirking at the sight in front of you. dan heng, the usually composed and quick-witted member of the astral express, had been reduced down to a pleading mess.

dan heng opened his mouth to speak but right before he was about to respond, your fingers curled and started scratching the base of his tail. the action made his back arch and he let out a high gasp that soon turned into a drawn-out moan. his eyes lulled to the back of his head and he flooped his head down on your shoulder.

panting, he tried to speak in his usual tone, ”plea- hah…. please, just, um… c-continue, please….” was all he could muster. the absolute desperation in his voice made a shiver run up your spine, and now both of you were biting your lips.

”oh? you like getting touched like this?” the answer was obvious enough that dan heng just settled for letting out a series of quiet moans. his forehead was still planted to your shoulder as he panted, and you snaked your free arm up to pull him close. he quickly pulled you into an embrace, snaking his tail around your waist, earning a soft chuckle out of you. his grip was tight, but not hurting. just perfect.

slowly, your hand left his back in favor of finding purchase at the hem of his pants. you tugged gently at it, giving him a warning, before diving your fingers under the fabric.

dan heng gasped and whimpered at what was to come. his hand moved down to hold your wrist as your fingers moved down, and more down, until you found the hem of his underwear. your scratching increased in pressure as your fingers dived under the next layer of fabric to meet his warm skin.

”please, be ge-” dan heng was cut off by a deep moan as your hand grabbed his cock and started pumping it without warning. this, combined with the scratching, made dan heng louder than he ever has been. it was a surprise no one on the express came barging in.

”i am gentle, now hush. let me take care of you…” you cooed softly into his ear as your pace on his hard appendage quickened. dan heng’s moans increased in pitch and his back arched into your chest, his grip on you tightening as much as he could. you could even feel his tail squeezing your waist, but that was irrelevant now.

as the vidyadhara in front of you continued to moan and plead, you couldn’t help but smirk. seeing dan heng so submissive kindled something inside of you, something that had never been kindled before in the span of your relationship. perhaps you should do this more often.

[i-like-books-and-women]

Oh the crippling reality of small fandom means if I wanna read the fic I'm probs gonna have to write it

[arachnidsgrip88]

Mahito x Transmasc Reader. Excuse my poor knowledge about hrt. mostly mahito being a freak. MDNI.

Mahito adores seeing the changes in your body ever since you've started testosterone. Initially he found it silly that you would try and change your body without his help. He literally specializes in this stuff and you'd get the results you want right away, no prescription needed. Despite that, you insist that you transition properly and safely. In order to soothe Mahito you assure him that he will be able to check up on your bodily changes as much as he'd like, to which he cheers up.

After quite a few checkups, it becomes extremely clear to you which change is his favorite. Whenever you agree to let him check up on you, he always inspects your bottom growth first. He thinks it is just so cute!

"So sensitive!" Mahito coos, lubricating his finger with his own saliva as he gently rubs your bottom growth and intently watches for your reaction. "You've definitely gotten bigger. I'm almost glad you wouldn't let me just transfigure you a dick, it's so cute like this..." He runs his inhumanly long tongue against your cock, drooling a little. He can't help it! You've been so constantly aroused recently, he can smell it, and you always smell so good. He gets off the floor and onto your bed, sitting between your legs. "Let's see..." He murmurs to himself before tugging his pants down to free his dick, pressing it against yours and relishing in the size difference. "So small compared to mine... Cute cute cute." Mahito rambles on, voice high and whiney even as you complain to him how unfair that is when he can change the size of his dick at will.

Then he discovers frotting probably. Might write a proper fic about this I don't know if its too self indulgent. Who gives a freak

[eldrith]

COMING SOON...🤍🕰️🌬️

message to be on cregan stark taglist.

[iluvreid]

The way i want to start writing fics but i’m too scared of failure for that 😭😳 any tips?

[shadow1515]

Too Sweet

Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)

You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for. 

Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.

Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.

You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead. 

One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you. 

Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion. 

Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.

“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?

You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you. 

“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”

The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying. 

You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?

The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue. 

“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.

At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”

Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?

“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.

The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”

You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything. 

The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this. 

Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.

“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”

“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.” 

You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could. 

The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”

“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”

A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.

Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it. 

The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.” 

At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face. 

Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves. 

A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”

His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again. 

“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”

Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face. 

The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you. 

“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”

His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately. 

You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.

Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again. 

Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.

You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.

“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”

You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.

“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.

The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.

“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.” 

His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault. 

The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”

So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin. 

“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable. 

“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants. 

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip. 

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”

The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen. 

In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips. 

The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”

Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level. 

You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–

A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses. 

“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you. 

“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?

Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing. 

“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?” 

He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.

The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”

Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”

Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper. 

It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt. 

“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace. 

You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin. 

You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him. 

The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”

The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.

Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.

“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”

His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you. 

The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”

Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out. 

[jubshead]

3k words and they just kissed, god I used to have a problem with word count, now it has become too much

[samaraxmorgan]

I need to “do it scared” my way into writing smut but I’m too nervous to even open a word doc skskskssk

[saccharinesunsetretired]

First Time For Everything | Wolfbur x Reader

This one stumped me for a while, but here it is! Based off @drop-of-void's Wolfbur AU, more specifically this post that you should definitely check out. I hope I did him justice, because I love Wolfbur very much <3

Summary: Neither you nor Wilbur realized that he could, in fact, knot you despite him not being in rut. It turns out to be a pleasant discovery.

Warnings/Tags: Smut, fluff, fingering, knotting, reader is afab but gender neutral

Word Count: 2.2k

MINORS DNI - BLOGS WITHOUT AN AGE INDICATOR GET BLOCKED NO EXCEPTIONS

It was strange sometimes, having Wilbur around. There were things that Wilbur didn’t understand about humans, things that you (perhaps foolishly) assumed that he should know. For example, the time he spent an hour staring at your refrigerator trying to figure out the source of the cooling, or the time he nearly broke your phone in an attempt to understand what all the buttons did. 

The first time you had sex with him was similar in a way. He understood the basic mechanics of it, of course, but he was unsure of himself. Humans are just so fragile, he said. I don’t want to hurt you.

You had reassured him that he wouldn’t, that it would all be fine, and it was. Wilbur, for all of his anxiety and hesitation, did just fine. A lot better than fine. It was easily the best sex you’d ever had, mostly because Wilbur was so eager, so willing to do whatever you asked of him and more than happy to learn. It was endearing, seeing him so happy at the thought that he made you feel so much pleasure. 

You assumed that as long as Wilbur stayed in his human form, none of his Lycan traits would unexpectedly show up. He warned you that during his rut, that might not always be the case, but it wasn’t time for that just yet. You figured you had more time before that became a problem. 

You were wrong.

It started out just fine. You were sitting out on the porch with him, enjoying the fresh air. A few innocent touches to Wilbur’s thigh left him staring at you with an intensity that instantly prompted you to kiss him. He kissed you hungrily, more desperately than he usually did. You chalked it up to him just being in the mood more than usual. “Darling,” he gasped against your lips, “I could take you right here.”

You laughed softly between heated kisses as Wilbur’s hands wandered your body. “We’d both get splinters,” you protested. The porch was in decent condition, but it was definitely not the most comfortable or safe.

“Don’t care,” Wilbur replied. His lips went to your neck. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled deeply. A Lycan thing, you figured.

“You’ll care when you have splinters,” you said, sighing contentedly at Wilbur’s touches. “Come on. We can take this inside.”

Wilbur quickly agreed and scooped you into his arms. You let out a surprised little squeak when he did, but he paid no mind. His expression was focused, determined.

He placed you on the bed and wasted no time getting on top of you. He was insatiable in a way that he usually wasn’t, but once again, you blamed it on pent-up desire or something of the sort. His fingers were immediately sliding your shirt up your body, and you were quick to help him remove it entirely.

“Just wanna feel all of you, darling,” he murmured, fingers running down your body to the waistband of your jeans. You helped him hastily unbutton them and pull them down before letting them fall to the side of the bed. Then it was your underwear, which he tugged on so hard that it was nearly ripped right off you. You winced at the tug on your skin.

“Shit, sorry,” Wilbur said, looking slightly alarmed.

You laughed it off. “Feeling especially eager today, Wil?”

“You have no idea,” he replied. His fingers then went to the hem of his own shirt and tugged it off. It was your turn to put your hands on him, tracing the lines of his body with your fingertips. He shivered, a pleasant sight for you. It only took another few moments for him to get completely undressed.

The second you were both completely bare, his lips were back on yours, teeth nearly clashing. Part of you wanted to tell him to be gentle, to slow down, but another part of you only wanted more. Of course, the latter is the side that won. Your hands wandered to his hair, grasping at his curls and pulling him closer. 

With how absorbed you were in the kiss, you almost didn’t realize his hand running down your body. Once it reached your sex, you realized what he was doing. He inserted a finger and silenced your moan with a kiss. The second you pulled away, he was teasing you. “Now who’s eager? Hm?” 

“Please shut up and kiss me again.” Wilbur laughed softly before immediately complying, his lips meeting yours once again as he slowly moved his finger in and out, not enough to do hardly anything but tease. It was simultaneously intoxicating and infuriating. 

Wilbur’s lips then trailed down to your neck, and once again, he inhaled your scent. You couldn’t help but giggle at the ticklish sensation of his breath. “What are you doing?” you asked.

“Um…” Wilbur pulled away just enough so that he could see your face and stopped moving his finger. “Smelling you. Is that…do humans not do that?”

“Not generally,” you said. “But it’s not that weird.” 

“Then can I keep doing it?” Wilbur asked. He was practically a master at giving you puppy-dog eyes whenever he wanted something, and you could hardly ever deny him.

“Sure,” you said. Besides, the feeling of his face against your neck was warm—comforting, in an odd sort of way. He went right back to it, kissing and sniffing at your neck and inserting another finger. You couldn’t help but whine as he nipped softly at the skin on your neck. You couldn’t tell if he was biting harder than usual or if his teeth were somehow sharper. Perhaps another Lycan thing.

He started curling his fingers and watched hungrily as you moaned and arched your back slightly, trying to get closer. His fingers moved frustratingly slow, giving you enough pressure to tease but not enough to get you off. 

“Wilbur, please-“

“You’re not cumming unless it’s on my cock, sweetheart,” Wilbur cooed. “For now, you take what I give you, yeah?” You nodded frantically, preferring even this frustration over nothing. It had taken him a little bit to experiment and figure out how to talk dirty with you, how to tease and what you liked. Thankfully, your preferences often lined up with his. Very convenient.

His lips went back to your neck, biting softly at the skin there. You moaned as his tongue brushed your skin, tasting the beads of sweat that were already forming there. You were getting wetter by the second, to the point where you could hear it as his fingers pumped in and out. Just as soon as he started speeding up, he stopped and withdrew his fingers. 

Normally, you would have complained, but after his earlier words, you knew better. “Ready for me?” Wilbur asked. You watched as he sucked the fluid off his fingers, tasting you so casually that it seemed like nothing to him. You nodded, and he shook his head. “Words, darling, use your words.”

In that moment, you were beyond grateful to your past self for teaching Wilbur about human terms of endearment. The way he said ‘darling’ had you shivering in anticipation. “I’m ready, Wil. You have me.” 

He grinned before leaning in and kissing your jaw. “That I do.” Calloused hands parted your legs, allowing him to settle between them. “You gonna be good and take my cock like I want you to?”

“Y-yes, Wil. Just—please get going.”

He needed no further encouragement. He entered you slowly, soaking in the sounds of your whines as he stretched you out. He let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a grunt as he got settled. Your hands went to his back, holding him close, and he slowly began to move.

His thrusts were deep but slow at first, quickly increasing in speed. You held on, scratching at his back as he thrusted and grinded against you. “I needed this,” Wilbur said between gasps and quick breaths. “Needed you so bad, you have no idea.”

“M-me too,” you managed to say. “Just please keep going.”

“Wouldn’t dream of stopping.” His thrusts increased in speed. You whimpered, nails digging slightly into the skin of his back. You had apologized the first time it happened, but he loved it so much that you didn’t bother to stop anymore. It’s like you’re marking me, he’d said. Marking me as yours.

And you knew how he loved being yours, just as you loved being his. He pushed you closer and closer to your orgasm, and you could feel his thrusts getting sloppier. 

And then, you felt something a little strange, an odd push at your entrance that you hadn’t felt before, like something was bumping around it. It was strange but not at all unpleasant, and before you knew it, you were finishing anyway with a cry of Wilbur’s name.

And then you felt yourself being stretched wider than you’d ever been stretched before, stretched to the point that it burned for a moment before you were filled fuller than you’d ever been. Just like that, Wilbur stopped moving, gasping and panting above you, his eyes slightly wide. You gripped at Wilbur’s shoulders, whimpering at the feeling of being so blissfully and inexplicably full. 

You remembered Wilbur explaining Lycan mating to you, how, during ruts, Lycans would knot their mates. Like…dogs, I guess, he’d said. He was bright red as he explained it before assuring you that it only happened during ruts. 

But this wasn’t a rut—at least, you didn’t think it was—and you still had his knot in you. There was no other explanation for why you felt so full. “W-Wil,” you managed to say, your voice a soft whine.

“Fuck,” Wilbur said under his breath. “Fuck, darling, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t think this would happen, I…I thought that…that it wouldn’t happen unless I was in rut, and-“

“S’okay,” you managed to say. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He wasn’t looking you in the eyes. “I didn’t—I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I-“

“Wilbur,” you managed to say. “It’s okay. This—fuck, this feels so good.” The feeling of being filled like this was addictive, scratching an itch that you didn’t even know you had. You let out a soft gasp as he shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable. 

“It—it’s good? You don’t mind?” His eyes were wide and hopeful, looking down at you with a mixture of excitement and concern. “It’s okay that I knotted you?”

“Y-yeah,” you said shakily. “It’s good, Wil. Really good.” You let him sigh and lean against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You brought a hand up to run your fingers through his hair and gently scratch at his scalp, and he let out a soft, rumbling noise in response. “You okay?”

“So good,” Wilbur said, murmuring against the skin of your neck. “I was so scared that I’d hurt you or that you’d be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” you reassured him. “It feels so fucking good, Wil. It’s perfect.”

“Then I’m gonna do it again,” he murmured. “Knot you as many times as you want, darling.” He kissed the corner of your jaw and nuzzled against you.

You sighed, a soft exhale as you relaxed further. The feeling of being stretched and filled was still there, of course, but having him this close was also warm and comforting. When you breathed in, you could smell him—the scent of sweat, the forest, fresh earth and rain. “How long do the knots stay for?” you asked as you continued running your fingers through his hair.

“A while,” he replied. “Fifteen…maybe twenty minutes. I…I know it’s a long time, and you might not want to do this again, and—“

“Shush,” you said. “I’m comfortable.” When he went silent, you continued. “I told you it was okay, and I meant it. Honest.”

“Okay,” he said softly. He kissed your jaw once again. Rain fell softly on the roof of your little home, the only sound you could hear other than Wilbur’s soft breathing. He let out a low hum and stayed nestled in the crook of your neck, occasionally pressing a kiss there.

The two of you laid like that for a while, letting the time pass peacefully as you enjoyed each other’s warmth. Eventually, Wilbur tensed up a little before releasing into you with a soft moan and a sigh.

The sensation of being filled so entirely was intoxicating, and you found yourself moaning as he pulled out of you. Your sheets would definitely need a good washing after this, but you didn’t care, not when you were so full of him. He gazed at the spot between your legs for a moment, admiring his work. “You like taking me like that, huh? Want me to fill you again?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling him into a kiss. The kiss lasted long seconds, and when you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a small smile playing on his lips. “As you wish, my mate.”

You were definitely in for a long night.

[steamed-rice-enjoyer]

cws: gn!dom!reader. silvermane guard!reader. some plot, but mostly porn. sub!pela. office sex. power imbalance. (you are clothed, she's not.) fingering. exhibitionism. minimal aftercare. rushed ending. i'm incredibly horny. (meaning it's not proofread. let me know if i should add any other warnings!) mandatory "english isn't my first language" warning.

a/n: wow, i finally wrote smut? how rare! special thanks to my dear friends who encouraged me to post this. haven't written anything in 10 months. this is sort of for getting through my writer's block.

Meeting Pela was all thanks to a lucky, accidental meeting, orchestrated by Gepard. And wow, are you thankful. Meeting fellow co-workers supposedly strengthens trust and bonds between the guards. You couldn't agree more. But being at the right place and the right time, you met Pela. Briefly. But that's all it took. You invited her after work to go drinking. And you got close. A bit too close, for workplace standards. Oh, but you really are so thankful to have found someone who can understand your frustrations as a Silvermane Guard. She's always happy to listen to you mindlessly complain, as she does her work. Venting your annoyance to curious ears. Office work does get dull, but your stories? Never. -- Thankful that once you took off all of your heavy armor, she didn't mind sitting in your lap, getting comfortable. This time, however, she was the one thankful. So very thankful. You couldn't see how hard she was blushing. Thoughts running around in her head. What could this lead to? She cautiously suggests that if you do have anything troubling you, you can take it out on her. Anytime. Something clicks in your brain, frantically taking off her clothes, kissing wherever your lips can reach. So thankful to now have cute little Pela in your lap, trying to squirm away from the stimulation your fingers are bringing her. So sensitive, you think to yourself. Whispering praises into her neck, how well she's doing. "What if... haaah~...What if someone comes in?" Pela squeals as you hit that special spongy spot deep inside her as you curl your fingers. How precious. You wish you could hear that sound more often. You think to yourself. "What then? If someone were to come in... Hmm. I'd say they'd have a clear view of you being pretty, as always." You hum into her neck. Looking down how your fingers keep appearing and disappearing into her cunt, slick covering her thighs and some even dripping down to your pants. Her breathing is getting quicker, moans more eager. She's basically panting at this point. Gasping as she's about to reach her high. So, naturally, you take your soaked fingers out of her pussy, bringing it to your lips and licking them clean as you rest your head on her shoulder. She tries to look away, but she grows more twitchy and impatient.

She cries out and grinds down on your lap, and thighs, hoping to get some, if any form of friction against her exposed cunt. Muttering soft "please" -s into the steamy and rather small office the two of you are in.

How could you resist not giving in? She's fucked dumb on your fingers. Of course, you give Pela what she wants most. Sweet release... So you let Pela take control of your hand, just this once. Riding your fingers as she's setting a quick pace. She's moaning so loud, you can't stop thinking about someone walking in. You will have to do something about your own arousal sooner or later, but that can wait. The sound she makes as she cums is forever engraved into your mind. Thighs shaking, eyes closed, she's guiding your hand that is deep inside her. She throws her head back, almost hitting your chest.

"You are always such a treat..." Praising her as she slowly calms down from her orgasm. Only having time to clean her up, kissing her forehead tenderly as you get up to leave. "Sadly I don't have time for seconds." Truly unfortunate that you really do have to get back to work so soon. Wishing to postpone your evening patrols. With you fully plated up in sturdy armor, you wave goodbye to her, as you gently open, then close the door, swiftly sneaking out. When your figure disappears from Pela's sight, she thinks about how this whole... act was like something she'd read or even write about in one of her... books.

[tanith-rhea]

Screw your roommate, I'll show you a good time

When the girl from the room beside yours brings her boyfriend to spend the night, you cannot comprehend how someone can have such a good time they'd scream like that. Forced to leave your room and look for somewhere else to spend the night, you end up on the comfortable sofas in the library's reading nook, only to find that somebody was already there. And, wow, that girl is so pretty but wait, she's one of your dorm neighbours, isn't she?

Word count: 1.8k

The characters are above the age of consent!

You have listened absolutely enough of Morticia Frump's moans. Who were you to judge the girl for living her best life, but did she have to voice her appreciation so loudly? You could NOT take any more of it. If you heard another "ah" or "oh", you would unhesitatingly take your own life.

Marching down the Nevermore halls with a pillow under one arm and a thin blanket around your shoulders like a cape, you looked for the farthest place you could get from Ophelia Hall to spend the night. After fumbling and bumping against iron armours you got to the library; with any luck, you could sleep in the comfy sofas by the reading nook. Since it was past midnight, the spacious chaise lounge by the big window would be free, and you could romanticize falling asleep under the moonlight all you liked.

However, it seemed not even in the ungodly hours of the night you could relax on the highly disputed seat. Someone, a rather long-legged girl was seated there, reading... IN THE MOONLIGHT. Jesus, not even your aesthetics were only yours in this school.

"You'll need glasses if reading in the dark is your hobby" you approach, spooking the girl, who quickly shut her book and looked at you.

Oh, she was very fine indeed, with the silvery light making her hair into a halo of white-blond locks; you had seen her around the corridors a few times.

"Not a habit," she relaxed upon realizing you weren't a teacher "Just needed a place to stay for a while" the disgust on her face was obvious, and you thought rather cute as well.

"Well, we're in similar situations, then. I can't stay at my dorm at the moment"

"Tell me about it" gosh her eye roll and sassy smile did something to your legs.

You went to the lounge, testing the waters. She folded her legs so her knees were against her chest for you to sit. You smiled and threw your pillow and blanket on the seat before dropping on top of it.

"So your dorm neighbours are partying?" you laughed at her fed-up huff.

"My roommate and her boyfriend. I just can't understand why they never give it a break. It's as if they're under a spell! If they look the other in the eye you better hurry out or you'll see things you wish you hadn't"

Well, that was a lot. You were still laughing when she realized her outburst and reddened, opening her book again to avert your gaze.

"Sorry, that was a bit too much..."

"No, it's fine, really," you reassured her, crawling to sit beside her in the bed-like chaise "I have these dorm neighbours that are so loud I cannot understand how the principal hasn't called them yet for indecent behaviour"

"Yes! Jesus Christ, I thought it was only me. My roommate is impossible, like I get that she's madly in lust with her boyfriend but you don't need to rub it in my face Morticia!"

Hang on a second. Morticia? Was she...? And then you realized. Being a year older, you didn't have any classes with the girls next dorm, but you were pretty sure that was the cute perfect-student roommate of Morticia's.

"Wait, what? Are you the Weems girl? The one from the talent show?" her blush was oh so very becoming.

"Fuck, I didn't mean to say that...." she buried her face in her hands against those high knees like a toddler playing hide and seek.

"No! I loved your Judy Garland, really impressive for such a young shapeshifter" she laughed bitterly still enclosed in the prison of her limbs.

You gently put a hand on her back, trying to coax her into looking up by pulling one of her arms slowly. She did, and the disappointed frustration on her face left you missing the sassy smiles.

"I'm being genuine. I heard you're the best student in your year. Didn't you start a book club to help the guys read Mr Loras' books last semester?"

She looked doubtful, but let you have it anyway. She didn't have the energy to argue at this point.

"I did. But nothing I do really stands out when your roommate is Morticia Frump" she shrugged.

"Are you kidding me? I know Morticia's cool and all, winning the Poe Cup or whatever, but you are the one teachers mention when someone complains about class. It's annoying actually because they point out that this girl a year behind us knows stuff we haven't even learned while we can't be assed to read a textbook."

At that, you saw a glint of smugness in her eyes, and the tiny corner smile she didn't realize was gracing her face made something warm pool in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm exhausted" she changed subjects, averting your eyes one more time "do you think they're finished by now?"

You forgot she wanted to go back, and suddenly the prospect of spending the night chatting up Morticia's exasperated roommate was robbed of you. You could not deny she was nice and funny. The stress tightening her shoulders made you want to give her a massage while she complained about all the things you could bet she bottled up that bothered her. You would happily spend the night just basking in the warm presence of the girl if offered, so you wouldn't just let her go without a fight.

"Do you want to risk going back and seeing them sleeping together? Or worse... not sleeping yet?" you arched your brow in what you hoped was a convincing disgusted expression. It wasn't difficult since you were actually SO DONE with those two.

"I guess not..." she looked out the window, contemplating the school towers against the big full moon "Do you mind if I stay here too?"

"Hey, you were already here. I should be asking if I'm allowed to stay" you winked and for god's sake she had to stop blushing so prettily.

"You are the one with the pillow and blanket. I was just going to read a bit and go back" a shiver ran through her body then, making the hairs in her arms stand "Actually... would you mind sharing the blanket? I'm a bit cold."

There it was, your shot, your one-in-a-lifetime chance to have her pressed to your side. Jesus, could you be more of a creep? What the fuck.

"Yes, no problem at all. You can keep it, for tonight I mean; I'm not that cold."

There, less creepy. The blanket was still going to smell like her though... shut up! 

"Nonsense. The blanket is yours, c'mon I won't bite you" she moved close and covered you both. I wish you would bite. FOR FUCK'S SAKE STOP.

"Thanks... you're sweet" at that she just gave you a strange look, but didn't comment "So, what were you reading?"

You spent some time talking about books and assignments, music (which you had the same taste on), movies and all manner of things. After a while, Larissa became comfortable enough to recline against you and bitch about how Morticia wasn't the absolutely perfect female specimen everyone seemed to agree she was, and you were in heaven. You sensed a bit of envy, or maybe it was something else, a darker craving she wouldn't talk to anyone about, you even less being practically a stranger.

"I bet you could beat her if you tried" you commented when she was telling you a story about Morticia's first appearances at the debate club.

"I don't bother trying anymore. At the end of the day even if I win everyone still likes her better, and that's ok, I guess" she had her head against your shoulder. Sometime in your last hour of conversation, you both had slipped into a laying position "She's just beautiful and charming like that. Everyone loves her" she seemed more resigned than alright with her comment and that could not stand.

"I don't think that" ok, what were you doing? "I think you're way more charming than her"

She snorted and lifted herself on her elbow to look at you with an amused face.

"Oh really? Of course, you're not saying that just because I'm the one here and not Morticia, right? If it was her you would say 'oh, no, I think your tall roommate is way cooler than you'" she mock-mimicked you and laughed as if it was funny that you tried to "fool her."

"I would!" you could not believe this girl. She was so good, nice, and cute and Jesus, she even had the sarcastic sense of humour you would kill for in a friend... or more than a friend "You are dazzling, your taste in music is banging and you sassed the hell out of me for having a crush on Jamie Lee Curtis, what's there not to like?"

She was silent for a second. Her shell-shocked expression making you self-conscious about having said too much. You were weighing your options between slowly retreating and full-on running away like a blushing eleven-year-old when she leaned down and kissed you.

Well, that was certainly nice.

Her lips were soft and slightly unsure. You weren't helping too by being shocked motionless, and she was almost breaking the kiss to apologize when your brain finally worked and you cupped her head, bringing her into an open-mouthed enthusiastic kiss.

She tasted divine. The faint trace of strawberry lip balm mixing with the freshness of her toothpaste was intoxicating. She made soft sounds against your lips and straddled your lap to tower over you. Her hands forcefully burying themselves in your hair while she rocked her hips against yours.

You were ecstatic. The most gorgeous sophomore in the school was grinding and panting in your lap, your hands bruising her hips with the need to feel her close, the wetness between her legs sullying your pyjama bottoms when she suddenly stopped, looking you with lust-filled eyes and an unreadable face.

"I don't think we should be doing this here," she said matter-of-factly, panting from the exertion.

You gave her a cheeky smile, an idea passing through your mind.

"What do you think of giving your roommate a run for her money? I'm sure I could help you wake her up"

She smiled, biting her swollen bottom lip before running her tongue through it.

"I think she could hear what real fun sounds like" and with that, you both were off to your bedroom, blanket and book forgotten by the lonely window.

Part two can be found here.

[pettyprocrastination]

Mutt

Summary: After an ambush, Soap learns to trust the newest member of the 141

Pairing: Johnny Soap Mactavish x Fem!Werewolf!MC (call sign is Mutt)

warnings: vague description of violence and injuries. 

word count: 800

thank you to: @captainsamwlsn @thesadvampire @humanransome-note @joel-mlller and @luxuryberzatto @madhyanas @littleferal and @djarin-junk for helping me with this story and rattle off in your ears about Mutt! I love you all so very very much <3

_______

     “What are you?” 

     It was a valid question given the circumstances. 

     Soap could hardly count himself as conscious at that moment. It was a wave, pulling him back and forth until he was able to force his head to the surface, gasping for air and able to just barely look at his surroundings before he was pulled under again. 

     “Does it matter?” 

     It was dark out. He remembered it being dusk when they set out on their mission, the sun slowly setting in the horizon as Price told them to radio in at any issue and meet at their rendezvous point as soon at possible. 

     Fuck. 

     He broke the surface once more to notice that he wasn’t moving, but swaying side to side. Each step that crunches the ground is not his, but the blood drip, drip, dripping down, leaving a foreboding trail of their journey, is.

     Your shoulder digs into the crevice of his chest with each movement. 

     “Yer carryin’ me, Mutt.” 

     “I am.” 

     You never spoke much. Johnny had equated you to Simon in that way, quiet and foreboding. Your actions spoke where your voice rasped in the shadows. Tucked in the corner booth of a pub when the others went to celebrate a job well done. The loyal guard dog, waiting on its haunches for an order. 

     He was the one who would move to you first. Setting a beer in front of you before sliding into the seat across from you with a tap of his knuckles on the polished table. His knee would bump yours every time. You’d never complain. 

     “Big scary bastards, the both of you.” 

     But then you’d give him a grin, a flash of your crooked canines so fast it was gone when he blinked. 

     “Well it’s a damn good thing you talk enough for all of us then.” 

     Jonathan Mactavish was only a stone’s throw from 215 pounds but you carried him without complaint. The swaying with each step made his head spin and looking up was too much work for him to trust himself not to vomit. He let his eyes drop and stare at the ground, watching you take one step after another in a steady rhythm like an infant listening to their mother’s heartbeat. Through the darkness, he’s able to make out the shadowed shape of your feet in the night.

     “You’ve got no shoes on, Mutt.” 

     “Feels better this way.” 

     He can’t see much. Even if it weren’t for the blood loss and what he’s going to safely assume is a grade two concussion, it’s far too dark out for his surroundings to be seen as anything more than vague shapes and textures he can almost make heads or tails of.

     Your eyes are focused on the trail ahead, already accustomed to the darkness in a way he’d never seen anybody else without night vision goggles or a Mag-light. 

     “Tried to reach Price but the comms are busted. You got your bell rung pretty bad back there but-” You shifted your grip on his body and he felt something sharp press against his ankle, a gentle warning that mouthed at the skin of his Achilles's tendon. “We're only a few miles away from the rendezvous point. Think you can keep it together until we get there?”

     Claws. You had claws. 

     Through the nausea rolling through his body and the lights dancing behind his eyes, Soap could feel the fog begin to clear from his head. A flash of orders rising from his memory like the vision returning after a flash grenade. 

     He remembered seeing you charge through the muzzle flash and smoke like a vision. Uniform stained with the viscera of your enemies so dark he didn’t recognize you at first. The moment you came toward him he was raising his gun until he heard you speak.

     “You know me, Johnny.” 

     But he didn’t. Not really. 

     When he looked at you there was no familiarity or trust. He knew the color of your eyes and the curl of your lips in a snarl but nothing else. Not your name or family nor the reason you joined. 

     In the darkness, moonlight glinted against your eyes and he found himself thinking of the coyotes in Las Almas that watched him and his team from the shadows, pacing with a choir of chattering yips and howls in the darkness, waiting for the proper time to pounce.  

     He’d never admit it but there was a pause, when his hand held the barrel of his gun steady at your head.  Just as long as the width of the shallow breath trapped in his lungs, a split second where his pointer finger twitches, where the voice in his head urges him on. 

     “You never answered my question.”

     He knows nothing of you except that the blood in your mouth was spilled for him. 

     “I’m your teammate. That ought to be enough for you.” 

     It would have to be. 

[shinycollarboneapologist]

a tale of brief encounters (and the one time it actually isn't so brief)

(part 2 to clandestined, or the one where matty tries to call elle’s bluff)

word count: 8.6k

content: MINORS DNI! mentions of alcohol and drinking, matty is a jealous baby, mutual pining, george cockblocks, smut, fingering in front of a mirror, and matty uses the term “good girl” a lot, also slight age gap (3 years). (i also have not read through this yet, so please do not hesitate to tell me if something is wrong or weird thank u)

with the turn of the season comes the inevitability of elle’s trek home from the hectic haze of school and work and the return to some sense of normalcy. it’s inundated with the promise of rest and relaxation, a chance to stretch her legs and finally start cracking on that growing pile of “to be read” books or change up her style, get cracking on those internship applications. it also comes with the promise of returning to george’s couch, a tradition dating back to when she initially committed to a university and moved out of their shared childhood home. It was the promise that both would have a month or so of uninterrupted brother-sister bonding time (it also gave her the opportunity to work and make money without having to pay rent). 

the season changes and so does she, trading in her sweaters for shorts and sundresses; its unnaturally hot for this time of year and the sun is fully shining instead of peaking through the clouds. it’s early in the morning when she gets the call from george that he’s outside with a borrowed van. stomach flipping, elle tells him that she’ll be down in a moment. there’s that underlying promise that there would be someone with him. it was tradition after all for george and matty to come to get her. she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about him once these past few weeks. but her unrelenting anticipation is soon replaced by disappointment at the sight of a lone george waiting outside the building. it’s short-lived, though, as she finds herself quickly distracted by loading up the van with some of her essentials. she’s hardly lifting a finger because in true george fashion he’s lugging most of the heavier items, a bit begrudgingly but he’s doing it anyway.

the ride back to his is smooth. there’s not many people on the road due to the time of day, and he even makes it a point to stop and get the both of them some fast food breakfast and coffee along the way. george asks about the internship and elle answers, raving about the london office and all of the coworkers she has yet to meet and how one of her roommates was also awarded a position there so the duo plans on commuting together. elle asks about the guys, carefully skirting around the topic of his own roommate. and after he talks about ross and hann, she doesn't bring up matty, a bit too scared to ask where he is or how he’s been. his absence is felt in the car all the way home and elle finds herself having to push away dangerous thoughts of him more often than she would admit to. 

the apartment is empty when they arrive, much to elle’s dismay. a smile replaces her frown, though, as not to seem too dejected. even if there was no kiss, no longing, no desire, she still would miss him and his antics and the big welcome home that he’s always given her. the day passes by as she makes herself at home in the small two bedroom apartment, claiming a shelf in the bathroom and setting up a stake on the pull out couch. it almost feels empty without matty messing around and hiding her stuff as she tries to organize herself. she can’t help but feel dejected in a way, chest feeling heavy as she tucks herself onto the couch after the long day. 

sleep comes easy, but doesn’t stay that way. it’s late when elle hears a clanging by the door, the jingling of keys and giggles coming from outside in the hall. not this. it takes a second for the door to open and the culprits to be revealed. 

matty’s wrapped around another girl, lips feverishly pressing to her own and hands roaming her body. its dark, but the small amount of light coming in from the door is enough to illuminate the way he’s pressing himself against her. she’s gasping, her own hands clutching onto him and pulling him close. there’s stifled whispers falling from his lips, elle can hear the hush in his tone, and his friend’s incessant giggling. the door to the hallway shuts and he begins to move her inside, closer to where elle is trying so viciously to not be seen. bile rises to her throat. 

“oh, hey there, ellie belly,” he hums. 

ellie belly. the nickname weighs heavy on her brain, he hasn’t called her that in ages. and surely, she had thought something would change following the kiss and the things he muttered into her ear and the way his hands gripped her waist. but evidently, it’s still the same. at least it is for him. 

she rolls over, wanting the couch to just fold back up and crush her with it, but not before his eyes meet her’s and he sends her a wink in the dark that turns her stomach. 

“who was that?” the dark haired girl breathes out, as he begins to back her into his room. 

“no one important, s’just my roommate’s sister,” the door is shut and that’s when the tears come. 

—---------------

elle is pretty good at avoiding matty for a few days. 

she pushes herself to stay longer at the office, take the longer train ride home and the more scenic walk up to the apartment building. and it’s easy to do so. he’s rarely home when she is, and even when he is around there’s not many interactions between the two of them that aren’t mediated by george. 

“you going out tonight?” george asks, walking up to the bathroom that she had been hogging for what he saw as hours. his face comes to view in the mirror as he pokes his head into the open door. 

elle smiles at him, nodding as she lowers the music playing from her phone, an old throwback song, “yeah a couple of the interns wanted to celebrate the completion of our first week at the office.” 

he returns the smile and steps into the room, leaning against the threshold of the door with his arms crossed over his chest, “hope it doesn’t end up as a repeat of your eighteenth birthday. you remember that?” 

eyes narrowing, she puts the curling iron down and turns to get a full look at him, scoff falling from her lips, “it will not!”

“that’ll teach you to go shot for shot with me and matty,” he’s full on grinning now, “spent most of your night in this bathroom here if i’m correct.”

his words bring elle back to the flavored vodka and redbull induced night, can still taste the bitterness on her tongue and the copious amounts of sports drinks she had consumed to not spend her night in the hospital. it all started when matty made a comment on the “girly” drink she had in her hand, challenging her to take a sip of his much more “macho” mixed drink. it wasn’t half bad, surprisingly, and he promised the girl that he would buy her as many as she wanted so long as she finished them all. an opportunist at heart, elle accepted but soon found herself clutching her stomach and being led out of the dingy london club by george and matty, her friends and the rest of the guys trailing behind the three of them. the night got foggy from that point on and the first thing she can vaguely remember is waking up in george’s bed with a cool rag on her forehead and a pounding headache. 

“enough from you. it was all matty’s fault anyway,” elle chides, turning back to the mirror to continue fixing her hair. 

“oh yeah, because he force fed you all those drinks,” george tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

“alright, get out before i burn you with this,” elle waves the iron at him. he only holds his hands up in mock surrender. 

“do you need a ride? i think matty’s heading out tonight, was gonna dd for him. can always drop you off as well,” george asks as he exits, leaving elle to ponder the thought. 

“where’s he going?” she tries not to seem too enthralled by the question, instead trying to busy herself with the hot curling iron and a stubborn strand of hair, “i’m not gonna ask you to taxi me around if he’s going somewhere and i’m out of the way.” 

she hears george utter the name of a club. it’s familiar, has her pausing the music to hear him again as he repeats it. the curling iron slips from her hand and there's a slight burning sensation bubbling up on the skin on the top of her foot. 

“fuck!” 

when the realization of matty being at the same club finally sinks in, the hot metal doesn’t seem so painful. she reaches down quickly and grabs the tool, placing it back on the counter. 

“elle, are you alright?” george asks, poking his head back into the bathroom. 

“yeah. i’m fine,” she mutters, more so trying to convince herself than anything, “guess i’ll take you up on that offer, then.” she gives him a half-smile. he nods apprehensively, but doesn’t push the issue. and elle is grateful for that. when he dips out of the room once more, she lets out a long, exasperated sigh. 

she was fucked.

matty returns moments before they’re set to leave; the first time elle has seen him solo and not entangled with one of his friends. his presence cuts into her bravado with a knife, tugging on the threads of her confidence and pulling against them until they’re taught enough to snap. she finds herself messing with her outfit more, playing with the straps of her dress and fiddling with the hem. he notices, because he always does, and offers her a sly smirk, lips curled around his teeth. if things were different, it would have hit her right in the gut, eliciting a burning sensation. and while it did that now, elle was conflicted with a sense of wanting to shy away from it all. 

in a turn of events, matty lets elle take the passenger seat claiming the back of the van is “too decrepit for sweet ellie belly.” she cringes at the nickname, rolling her eyes as she slips into the passenger side. his eyes are hot on her neck, burning holes into her skin. she can feel them lighting little fires, a stark comparison to how cold he had been to her the week prior. 

the ride is quick, her thoughts muted by george and matty’s antics. her stomach churns when george asks if matty plans on bringing home a friend tonight. the older boy only laughs, his eyes catch elle’s before he slips out of the van, offering a sly smirk and a stomach-fluttering wink. elle is nauseated and thankful that he’s ran ahead to meet up with his friends at the door. 

“call me if you need anything, yeah?” george smiles from the driver’s seat. elle nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before she follows matty’s suit and slips out of the car. loud music permeates the air of chatter around the entrance which is saturated by the bodies of those waiting to get in or enjoying a smoke. there’s no sight of matty, though, and elle is thankful for that. she just wants him to stay out of her hair and out of sight for as long as possible. 

“elle!” 

elle pivots on the balls of her feet, spinning around to see charli and sophie. she wraps her arms around her friends as they squeal and cheer their hellos, despite the annoyed glances from those around them.

“is that george in the car?” charli quips while they pull away. she raises on her tippy toes to attempt to see in the van that’s slowly pulling away, tugging her lowcut top down a bit and fluffing up her hair, “go ask him if he wants to come have a drink. s’on me.” 

“don’t be weird, char.” elle groans, dragging her friends towards the entrance after turning to wave george off. 

the club is packed, littered with bodies from wall to wall. and despite the lack of room to move let alone breathe, elle is happy. it leaves little to no anticipation that she would be forced to interact with matty. the girls are quick to distract her from it all, buying her drink after drink and shot after shot. the music is vibrating through her body, mixing with the alcohol she’s quickly consumed to create a sense of euphoria. she needed this. 

“that guy over there has not stopped staring at you since we came in,” sophie smirks, handing elle another drink. her head nods over the girl’s shoulder and elle twists around to follow her gaze. 

sure enough, a guy; about six foot with a mop of golden curls and tattoos littering his slender arms, has his lip tucked between his teeth. his aloof demeanor matches the off-set smirk thats on his face. elle won’t deny he’s attractive, she has a type clearly.  a small, bashful smile pulls at her lips. she offers him a wave, which he returns. elle is quick to turn around, giddy as she faces sophie once more. 

“he’s coming over.”

“no he’s not, shut up,” elle’s cheeks feel warm, stomach twisting in delight.

sophie nods, wide eyed, “elle, he’s uh right behind-”

“hey,” his voice is deep, sending a shiver down elle’s spine as he finds his place carefully next to her.

“hi,” she returns the gesture. if the lights in the club were not so dim, she was sure he would see the rising flush from her neck. 

“what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he quirks, nodding his head at her.

“am i not allowed to be here?” she tilts her head to the side, looking up at him with doed eyes.

“never said that. think running into you made my night significantly better, actually,” his arm worms its way around her waist and elle’s smile only deepens. she curls her lips around the straw of her drink, sucking down the bitter liquid while keeping her eyes locked on his.  

his name is alex. he’s a musician in a local band, lead singer and guitar player. he grew up ten-minutes from where elle’s family moved and he was actually in her maths class. 

she has a type. 

her attention is only pulled from his momentarily. and in that moment she’s kicking herself for even looking away.

across the bar, matty is stood nursing a drink. he looks like he’s paying half a mind to it as his head bops to the beat. their eyes lock for only a moment. his attention is pulled down to the arm around her waist and the guy slung around her neck. alex’s lips are hot on her skin, albeit a bit messy. a soft gasp falls from her parted lips, consumed by the thickened air around them. her eyes fall shut as his teeth drag over the sensitive skin just under her ear. 

when her eyes open, matty’s gone. 

“well well well. what do we have here?”

even in her alcohol induced euphoria, elle would recognize the timbre of that voice anywhere. the way his lilted pronunciation rolls off his tongue, hangs in the air like smoke and vanishes away before she can hang on too tight. his presence usually elicits flutters in her stomach, a pounding in her chest and a bright smile. this time, however, the disdain burns heavy on her tongue. he’s got a thing for being places he shouldn’t be at the times where its least opportune. the hand on her waist tightens, drawing her in closer to the stranger’s grasp. she wants so badly to remember the guys name, it sits untouched on the tip of her tongue because the only name she can remember is-

“matty,” elle huffs, “what are you doing here?” 

“just wanted to see how little ellie belly was doing,” he reaches up and ruffles her hair. it draws a chuckle from the man wrapped around her (andrew? jamie?). elle feels her shoulders slump, stomach twisting instead of fluttering. matty doesn’t relent, “though, it looks like she’s doing alright for herself.” 

“do you know this guy?” scott! his name is scott, asks from next to her. 

“unfortunately,” elle mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. 

matty snorts with a roll of his eyes, “i’m matty. and you are standing way too close to the precious cargo.” his hand is outstretched, staring directly at the arm wrapped conveniently around elle’s waist. she feels small under his gaze. and even smaller as the man stood next to her reaches out his unoccupied hand.

“alex,” their hands collide in an uncomfortable sound, “and i’ll stand right here until she decides to tell me off. which i hope she doesn’t, by the way.” 

matty’s tongue rolls against his teeth. it clicks against the roof of his mouth as an emotion elle has yet to pinpoint washes over his face. he covers it up quickly with a half-lipped smile, looking between the two of them, “next round on me?” 

he does buy the next round, with alex soon following with another and there was a third bought by matty and a fourth by alex. with each slam of an empty pint glass and smirk thrown in her direction, elle feels like she’s shrinking. small enough to weasel away from the testosterone induced challenges that have been plaguing her ears for the past thirty minutes or so, but alex’s hand sitting firmly around her waist and matty’s darkened stare are enough to keep her in place. 

“is one of them about to pee on you? or is the meat-fest pointless?” sophie huffs, though she’s already downed another drink bought by matty. 

“this is getting ridiculous. i just want to get out of here,” elle sighs. 

it doesn’t matter how loudly either of the girls talk. the two men are paying them no mind. instead,both of their chests are puffed outwards and elle can tell from the way matty is standing that he’s trying to appear taller than he is, though he and alex stand around the same height. its paired with their obnoxiously timed sly digs in between the casual conversation about alex and matty’s one shared common interest: being musicians in a local band. 

manicured fingers reach up to tug on the sleeve of alex’s shirt. there’s no budge. no movement aside from the arm that was once around her waist slipping a bit. brown eyes dart down, and a smirk rises on matty’s lips. elle feels sick. he looks pretty pleased with himself. she needs to work harder, remind the man that was so wrapped up in her moments ago that she was still standing there. so, she tugs again. 

alex shifts to face her this time, dazed smile on his lips. 

“do you wanna get out of here?” elle all but begs into his ear; she just wants to be put out of her misery of watching the mirrored images bicker. 

“oh…oh…yeah,” he nods. thankful, elle lets their fingers intertwine.

“we’re gonna head out. see you, matty. thanks for the drinks,” she nods her head in matty’s direction. 

his expression is unreadable, like he’s mulling over something in his head. as annoyed as she is, elle would kill to be able to crack open his brain to see what exactly was going on in there. the wheels were definitely turning, whether good, bad or indifferent. as badly as she wanted to get out of there, she more so would spend the next few hours picking his brain. yet, alex serves as a viable distraction. a means to break her from the matty-induced spell. 

alex extends his hand out to shake matty’s once more. the brunette looks down at the outstretched hand, then back at the way elle has so comfortably enclosed herself around alex’s arm. he meets her eyes, eyebrows arched in an “are you sure about this?” expression. 

“why are you looking-” 

“dunno if you want to take her too far, mate. she might blow chunks on those nice new trainers you got there,” matty seethes. 

elle stiffens, hoping that the otherwise loud roar of the conversations around them and the overwhelming bass of the music would drown out the sound of matty’s voice. his words hang around in the thickened air, though, long enough for alex to slowly lower his hand. 

“matty-”

“mate, what are you talking about?” alex chuckles uneasily. 

“meant what i said. was her birthday. at this very club, she got so shit-faced couldn’t even walk straight. yacked right in that corner that she was probably about to take you to,” matty continues, vindictive bites laced within the syllables that fall from his mouth. elle so badly wants to catch them all, bury it all deep below the surface. this has never happened before. he’s never done this. 

“matty, stop,” she pleas. her requests fall as quickly as alex lets her hand drop. 

alex, all six-foot, messy auburn-hair, guitar playing lead-vocalist of him, laughs beside her. 

“think that’s the same night you belted out shakira the whole way to the cab? right, elle?” matty’s looking at her, expecting an answer. but how can she answer when her tongue feels heavy against the roof of her mouth? when the words she wants to utter are jumbled and foreign? how can she answer when the one person that’s always made her feel like the only person in the room is treating her no better than the lime he discarded on the bar?

he doesn’t wait any longer for a response. instead he continues, “it was a fucking mess, dude. the bouncers had to cone it off. my brand new trainers were stained.” 

elle’s chest feels tight, throat constricting as she tries to gasp for air. she would much rather deal with matty’s incessant stare, the darkened gaze and the brooding attitude than have him obliterate any chance with blonde-haired alex right in front of her. when the two of them laugh in cohesion, she feels a knife puncturing at her heart, eyes glazing over. 

she’s worming her way away from the group before she can hear anymore of what matty so graciously has to say. the tears come before she can make it all the way outside, ignoring the concerned stares from strangers.

 the cobblestone lined wall provides little relief to her heated body, heart hammering hard against her rib cage. she’s gasping for air, choked sobs drowning out the bass from inside. never in her life did she believe that of all people matthew fucking healy would be the one to take the piss out of her. it was bad enough that he’d pretty much pretended like she didn’t exist the entire first week of her arrival, ignored her texts. was this how he felt all along? was their friendship instilled in convenience of her stroking his ego when she complimented the band?

her shaking hands cover her face as the sobs rack through her body. she’s pathetic, feeling no bigger than the ants that crawl on the sidewalk. she envies them, despises them even. they at least get to crawl away from their problems and are able to get squished under the shoes of those that don’t care about them. meanwhile, she’s helplessly tangled up in the one problem she has. 

matty.

“elle?! where the fuck are you?” his voice collides with her ears oppressively. her stomach twists, “why- why did you leave?”

he’s out of breath; shoulders rising and falling quickly.

she puffs out a laugh, wiping at the tears that have collected under her eyes. 

“why did i leave? are you that fucking dense, matty?” 

he gulps, adams apple bobbing. 

“can you go get sophie and charli for me? i want to go home.”

“thought you were catching a ride with me and george,” matty takes a step towards her. its tentative, like he was mulling the action over in his head before he did it. so, he can think. he just picks and chooses when to do so. 

“don’t want to be anywhere near you, actually.” 

she watches as he winces and rubs over his heart, “sheesh. that one hurt, sweets. wait, are you crying?” matty’s face softens but she turns her face away. 

“elle.”

“leave me alone, matty,” she mutters. its pathetic the way her heart raps against her ribs harder as his hand comes in contact with her shoulder. the tiny little fires under her skin burn brighter and faster than ever before. 

“why are you crying?” he presses, tone unwavering.

“I’m not,” her voice betrays her as a sob escapes between her parted lips. 

he scoffs, “then what’s all this?” 

“i just don’t understand what i did to make you hate me so much,” elle sniffles, rubbing at her eyes. 

“what are you talking about?”

she inhales slowly, “you, fuck, you made me look like a fucking idiot. Fucking telling him all those embarrassing stories, won’t even look me in the eye at the apartment, avoiding me like the damn plague. matty, if you hate me, just fucking say it.” 

he’s quiet. 

he’s quiet and she’s fucked it. again. 

“if you regret kissing me just say it. i can take it. m’a big girl.”

matty stares at elle. long enough that she can feel his eyes burning holes into the side of her face. her head spins again, resonating within her brain is the sound of silence. its loud, overpowering her racing thoughts. she wants him to say something, anything. matty could recite the abc’s to her and she would be content. 

“say something.”

he flicks the butt of his finished cigarette to the ground. if it were any other person, she would have scolded them for littering, chastise them until they picked it up. but matty did it in a way that had her heart racing. his eyes coast over her when she finally looks at him again. her own eyes plea with him. elle needs him to say something, wants to hear the words that will finally put the nail in the coffin. if he rejects her maybe all those years of pining and going after guys that look and act like him will be in the past. maybe she can move on from the love sick crush she’s been harboring for so long. maybe. 

“eleanor daniel, are you dense?” 

“what?”

matty’s frame looms over her, pressing her body up against the wall as if he needed her to stabilize him, “i asked if you were dense.” 

she’s never seen him look at her that way before. 

“i don’t know what you’re getting on about, matty,” elle gulps. she can feel her heart beating in her throat; a rhythmic thumping that she’s positive he can hear from how close he is to her. his hand comes to rest at the base of her neck, thumb stroking over the heated skin, “just wish you would stop being so mean to me.”

“i don’t hate you. i want you, elle,” he exhales, “so fucking badly that it’s killing me knowing i can’t have you.” 

its her turn to be struck into silence, chest rising and falling slowly under the weight of his palm. her tongue juts out to flick over her bottom lip, blinking slowly. 

“you what?”

“you’ve been plaguing my thoughts since the last time i’ve seen you. but it can’t happen again,” matty murmurs, voice falling just above a whisper, “it shouldn’t have even happened the first time. you were crossed, didn’t want that to be the first time i kissed you.”

“you’ve been thinking about kissing me?” 

“do you only speak in questions?”

“only when it comes to you.” 

they stand in a comforting silence, though its tensed by the way his hand slides down from her neck to the curve of her waist. its slow, sensual and leaves a trail of goosebumps on her exposed skin. he leans in close to her and elle is almost convinced that he’s about to seal the space between them by pressing his lips against her own. the very lips she’s thought about at least ten times a day in the weeks following their last kiss. he doesn’t, though. instead he leans to her ear, hushed whispers against the shell of her ear. 

“i want to kiss you again, elle. but we can’t.”

she shudders, eyes fluttering closed as he presses a kiss just below her earlobe, “says who?”

“the laws of physics. george.” his voice is muffled as it reverberates against her skin, hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. 

“george doesn’t have to know,” she refutes, nails dragging along his skin. he shivers underneath her hold. 

 its quiet again, aside from the cars that drive past and the occasional melodies escaping from the constant opening and shutting door of the club. 

“are you drunk right now?” matty asks, eyes pouring into elle’s as he lifts his gaze. his eyes are dilated, chocolate brown irises almost non-existent in the wake of his enlarged pupils. 

she shakes her head, but he pinches at her side.

“n-no. are you?”

“no.” 

his lips find hers before she can even find the courage to ask him to do so. its softer than their first kiss, slower and exuding a sense of comfort from their longing. he tastes of the bitter whiskey he had been sipping on the whole evening, yet it was uniquely matty. a taste elle was sure she would never get off the tip of her tongue. his hands wander over her body, falling from her waist to the curve of her ass through her jeans. they settle there, squeezing at swell. her mouth falls open in a gasp and he takes the initiative to slide his tongue between her lips. 

elle moans, and that’s when matty’s movements come to a screeching halt. he pulls back hastily though she’s frozen in time, lips still pursed and chin still tilted towards him. 

“we can’t do this again,” he hushes, moving his hands from over her jeans to rest at her waist once more.

“matty-” she exhales. she wants to ask him how he can kiss her like that and then decide on his own accord that whatever that just was is to never happen again but he’s quick to cut her off with a bruising kiss. it’s hard. the way his lips collide with her own and the force behind him as he pushes her back up against the cool cobblestone of the wall. the bricks dig into her back, yet elle pays them no mind as she lets herself get lost in the kiss. her hands move from the back of his neck up to the hair at the nape of his neck, twisting and pulling at the unruly curls that habituate there. he groans against her lips, gripping at the bare skin of her side. elle’s almost certain that there will be moon shaped marks left tomorrow but she has half a mind to care. 

the marks would prove to her that this was real.

–

its late. its late and the impending sound of her alarm is enough to make elle question her own sanity as to why she’s staring at the cracks in the ceiling instead of sleeping peacefully. she rolls over and reaches for the phone that’s plugged in beside the makeshift bed, eyes squinting as she tries to make sense of the bright screen. 2:04. groaning, she tosses the device aside. instead of peacefully falling among the pillows, it clatters to the floor, the noise disturbing the otherwise serene apartment. getting up to grab it would ruin the promise of sleep, yet she was feeling rather thirsty and with the kitchen only a few strides away maybe it made sense to lazily remove herself from the warm blankets. she’s pulling herself up with a sigh, fetching the phone from the floor and gently placing it on the arm of the couch, and makes her way to the kitchen. her steps are lithe and careful, not wanting to ruin the sound sleep of the two other occupants. 

her back is to the threshold, hands nimbly searching the familiar scuffed cabinets for a glass. she retrieves one, hips swaying to an unsung melody that ricochets through her head along with thoughts about matty and the events of the past few nights. the longing and the waiting and the kiss, how could she forget about the kiss? there’s still a phantom memory of it that lingers along her lips, almost as if he wanted her to remember. did he want her to remember? or was the “this can’t happen again” that he uttered true? and if that were true why did he look at her like that before? why did his body encapsulate her up against the wall? why did he breathe down her neck to elicit goosebumps? why did he avoid her at dinner? why does he barely hold a conversation? why-

“can’t sleep?” 

elle jumps, soft shriek falling from her lips. she snaps her head around, eyes locking in on the culprit in the dimly lit room. matty, of course. he looks like a vision; sleep stained eyes, hair awry on the top of his head and hips adorned with low hung pajama pants. her heart races and she’s not too sure if its from the man stood before her or the way he invaded her thoughts. he always invades her thoughts. 

“hasn’t anyone ever told you its rude to sneak up on people, matthew?” she chides, setting the glassware down on the counter beside her.

“hasn’t anyone told you that its rude to leave people hanging, eleanor?” he counters, arms coming to cross over his chest. 

“you’re the one who said that it couldn’t happen again. i was just seeing to that,” she utters and takes a step towards him. 

he scoffs and with a roll of his eyes he follows her lead, stepping forward as well. his eyes trace down to her hips, lingering on the curve there. elle usually cowers under his stare, but this time she feels a sense of bravado wash over her. he’s not as intimidating as he thinks he is. 

“i’m not drunk,” she urges, arms tentatively reaching out towards him. elle half expects matty to shove her away, “or high for that matter.”

but with another step forward, he’s got her backed into the counter, “neither am i.”

elle swallows thickly, her throat feeling constrained under his darkened gaze. he looks starved, depleted of whatever she was offering and she wanted to give it to him, regardless of the implications at hand.

“so kiss me.” her voice is barely audible over the sound of their labored breaths. 

“what was that? couldn’t hear you, sweets.” his hand rises to rest at the base of her neck, almost possessively. it matches the heat in his glance and elicits a wave of fire beneath her skin. 

“i said kiss-” 

before elle can finish her request, matty’s lips crash into hers. they fill in the void that was once left behind, molding and pulling. there’s sparks reverberating through her skin, clawing through her bloodstream. this kiss feels different. for what it lacks in the awkward learning of what makes the other tick, it’s garnered the all expansive exploration of putting those pieces together.  its all teeth and tongue crashing into one another. his teeth dig into her bottom lip, tugging at the tender flesh. a surprised gasp falls from her occupied lips, granting matty the access he needs to slip his tongue into her mouth. elle presses herself up against him in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer. 

the counter digs into her back as matty’s hands roam all over her body through the thin t-shirt she’s adorned with. she needs more, craves more to dull the ache that’s overtaking her from within. as if he’s read her mind, matty’s knee pushes it’s way between her legs and presses deliciously into her heated center. with a swivel of her hips, she’s overtaken by a radiation of pleasure. it’s a small wave washing over her, but its enough to satiate the climbing impatience that’s growing inside of her. she feels his leg prop up more, an invitation for her to buck and grind against his knee as much as she likes. and she does. over and over, building a rhythm that has her aching for more. 

“can feel you soaking my knee through these sorry excuse for shorts, darling.” he groans against her lips. 

all she can do is whine, digging her hips a little deeper. maybe if she shifted up a little more-

“i’ll give you what you need, sweet girl. just be patient.” 

she’s been patient for weeks on end, having to pretend that the desire bubbling deep within her was nothing more than a farce. it takes everything in her not to whine, though she’s pretty positive he would like it more if she did, as he pulls away. 

“get on the counter,” he utters. there’s a commanding tone though his voice is nothing more than a whisper. elle stands there, stunned into silence and paralyzed with want. her breaths are baited, eyes tracing over his face for a few times. everything seems to set in at that moment: what she was doing, who she was doing it with, the proximity of her brother, the nagging feeling in her chest and the desire pooling in her core. she feels like she could melt into the floorboards, be washed away with the rain. the feeling of his lips linger on her own, she still feels the traces of him in her hair. 

“did i stutter? or do you need me to do that for you, too?” 

her mouth opens but nothing comes out in time. 

their tryst is up as the sound of a door being swung open pulls them from the heated embrace. matty steps away, quickly and for the first time in all the years that she’s known him, elle can see a trace of fear on his face. he's breathing heavily and situating himself a few paces away from her heated body. elle is positive her own reaction mirrors his as george pokes his head into the kitchen. 

“all right?” he yawns, “so fucking dark in here. we pay the electric bill for a reason.” his large hand reaches around to flip the light on, leaving all three of them to blink blearily. 

elle grabs the once abandoned cup from the counter, chugging down the rest of the water. it all feels too much: matty consuming her with his heated stare, wearing the remnants of her arousal on his knee while george is a few centimeters away drinking orange juice from the carton. the silence is unbearable, eating her alive bit by bit until she’s nothing more than a mess of herself- fragmented and torn to pieces. 

“as fun as this has been, i have to piss. goodnight again,” george presses a sticky kiss to elle’s forehead and is off, venturing into the dark of the living room. 

elle doesn’t exhale until she hears the door to the bathroom shut. 

“see you in my dreams, ellie belly,” matty hums while offering her a whimsical smirk before he stalks off as well. 

this is sick. sick and twisted and if elle was the tiniest bit religious, she would be on her knees right now begging for forgiveness. she should be sleeping, blissfully surrendering to the lulls of peace. but instead, she’s thinking about animalistic groans, the pressure between her legs and a mop of curly hair. the kitchen is cold and lonely without the heat of his body pressed against her. there’s a phantom of his knee lingering between her legs. she could cry, which seems to be the only thing matty’s been good at making her do recently. 

a door shuts in the distance, and with it closes the small opening she had. the floor looks like a promising place to crumble up and wallow. 

but it’s late and the red numbers on the microwave only burn an unwanted reminder into her brain that she has to be up in a few hours. as she rounds the corner between the kitchen and the living area that she was residing in, her eyes fall to the slightly ajar nature of matty’s door. she gulps. it’s never been left open before, especially not this late at night. because he usually has a girl over, her conscious reminds her. she could be such a bitch sometimes. elle chews on the inside of her lip. what if he just forgot to close it? what if he’s not in there? what if he really meant it couldn’t happen again? 

she toys with the idea of just going back to sleep, though she knows that sleep won’t come easy and the promise of being able to get off with matty is more enticing than the comfort those pillows would offer her. maybe he would let her grind up against his knee again, or dip his head between her thighs and use that sinful mouth on her until she was shaking.

her legs carry her through the door before she can construe another miscalculated scenario in her mind. chest rising and falling as she pushes the door shut behind her, hand gripping onto the handle like her life depended on it. she had half a mind to twist the door open again and slip out, hoping he didn’t notice her. she could play it off like she thought it was the bathroom. she could pretend that she was confused or sleep walking or-

“thought i would be able to call your bluff,” he grins wryly once the door is shut. elle spins around to stare up at him, breath caught in her throat. he’s lost the shirt he was wearing before, plaid pajama pants hanging low on his waist. her eyes dare to travel from his waist, but she doesn’t know if she has the strength to keep off of him if she does.

they’re at a stand-off; squared away and facing each other. elle’s mind is spinning out fantasies about what it would be like to be one of the girls that gets to spend the night tucked away behind these four walls. and by the way he’s staring at her, she feels as if she’s been caught. she wouldn’t put it past him to be able to read her mind.

“just wanted to bring you water,” she blushes, offering him a sheepish smile.

“you don’t have any water in your hand, elle.” matty comments from his stance in front of his dresser, arms crossing over his chest and head tilting to the side. 

she feels exposed, shying away from his gaze and turning around to face the now closed door once more in an attempt to make a run for it. maybe this was a mistake, a bad idea shrouded by the thoughts of matty and his devilish grin. 

“oh. silly me, must have forgotten it i-”

“you didn’t come to bring me water, did you? you came here to finish what we started, hm?” he’s pressed up behind her. his lips are on her neck, pulling a breathy sigh of his name from her mouth, “use your words, elle.” 

she could fold right there. his tongue pokes out and licks a trail up to her ear, “i’m waiting, sweet girl.” 

but how could she think let alone speak with the way he’s touching her and kissing her and making a mess of her brain. her thoughts feel scrambled and mushed together. she melts into his stance, mewling lowly. every nerve ending in her body feels as if its aflame. there’s no way to extinguish it alone, at least not with the way he’s dragging his fingers around her thigh and sucking deep welts onto the exposed skin of her neck. 

“please i’m so-” his fingers trail up her thigh, pushing the lame excuse of shorts to the side. skilled fingers find her clit, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive bud. she whines, head falling back into his shoulder. its the relief she needed, craved even. but she needs more, wants more.

“wet. you’re so fucking wet for me, dirty girl,” his teeth pull at her earlobe as he finishes her stuttered thought, “is this what you wanted? hm?”

“yes, want- fuck, want,” his pace on her clit increases, head feeling heavy. 

she moans lowly, reaching down to grip at his wrist. he lets her, watching her blissfully as she puppeteers his hand against her cunt. 

“feels good, doesn’t it?” matty grins. all elle can do is sigh out a whine, squeezing her eyes shut. her nails dig into his wrist, “i know, pretty girl, i know. need you to be quiet for me. can you do that?”

she nods, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“being so good for me,” matty’s lips drag down her neck, teeth scraping over the bruised area from before. an unabashed moan falls from her lips. he’s quick to turn her head towards him though, sealing his lips to hers in a heated kiss. the last thing they both need is an intrusion from the other house guest.

he swaps his fingers for his thumb, using the leverage to slip a finger inside of her. she clenches around him, the action going straight to his untouched dick that’s hidden within the confines of his pajama pants. elle feels it pressing up against the swell of her ass.

“matty,” she mewls against his lips. its hard to think with the way his finger dips in and out of her, almost in time with the motions of his thumb on her clit. she’s writhing against him, legs feeling as if they could give out any moment.

his long finger slides in and out with ease, toying and teasing at her silky cunt. she nips at his bottom lip, tugging the plush flesh in between her teeth. a low moan rumbles up from his chest, and elle’s convinced its the prettiest sound she’s ever heard. the sound is imprinted in the depths of her brain, something she knows she’ll think about for the rest of her life.

“think you can handle another?” he puffs out, slowly pulling his lips back from her to search her face for approval. 

she nods quickly, mouth falling agape as he adds another finger. his fingers work in and out of her at a blinding pace. his own mouth falls open as he mirrors her face, watching her only a moment before he’s pressing his lips back to hers to capture all of the broken moans that slip into the air. 

elle’s facade is crumbling, quickly. a familiar yet distant burn brewing in the depths of her stomach, a rubber band that's almost ready to snap. matty adds a third finger. elle hisses at the blissful stretch, eyes rolling back into her skull. she’s done for.

“you’re still such a needy thing, aren’t you?” his teeth drag along her neck, trailing a line straight to her jaw. he presses heated kisses along her jawline. his fingers hook up inside of her. and that’s when he finds it. 

if elle was in heaven before this had to have been the vip club. a choked sob lingers in the air, cunt clenching around his fingers. 

“right there,” she chants the syllables over and over like an oath, the words floating out in the heated space between them. and who is matty to deprive her when she looks so pretty begging like that? his fingers dip in and out, finding the exact spot each time. her knees wobble, hand gripping onto his shoulder for support.

“gonna fucking dream about the way you’re clenching on my fingers like this. letting me fuck you like a good girl,” he moans into her ear. its almost too much between his fingers deep inside of her, the sinful whispers in her ear and the sound of her arousal filling the room. she’s close, the rubberband stretching thin as she’s about to snap.

“you close?” he asks. she nods languidly and he hums out his approval, “you wanna cum?” 

elle nods again, almost scared to let herself speak. she’s so close, can practically taste the promise of the sweet release. another moan of his name falls from her lips, she feels him shudder from behind her. eyes squeezed shut, in total euphoria. 

“open your eyes, elle,” he husks into her ear, “want you to watch yourself as you cum.” 

elle’s eyes open slowly, locking with the eyes of her reflection in the mirror. she’s never seen herself like this before; cheeks flushed, eyes wild, lips swollen. she looks as fucked out as she feels. its the image of matty behind her, his own lips parted and hushing the filthiest sayings into her ear that has her clenching tightly around his fingers and choking out an almost too-loud moan of his name. he shushes her, working her through her release with a soothing kiss to her lips whilst he slows down the onslaught of his fingers. his unoccupied arms wraps around her quivering body, holding her upright as she gets rocked by wave after wave. 

“so good, sweets. you did so good for me,” he coos, kissing at her cheek. matty slips his fingers out from her, leaving elle to whine at the loss of fullness. he laughs. elle half expects him to wipe his fingers on the strewn towel on the back of his door. that’s what every other guy has done before, at least. 

he doesn’t though. instead he pops the digits into his mouth, sucking off her liquid arousal from his fingers. she stares at him, wide-eyed as he moans around his own fingers. matty’s eyes pour into her own. she finds it hard to catch her breath.

“taste even sweeter than i imagined,” he smirks at her dumbfounded expression, “oh, sorry. should i have offered you one? s’kinda greedy of me that i took all three for myself.”

“oh. uh.. no. no thanks,” elle blinks blearily, swallowing thickly, “i’m uh… i’m gonna go uh.. clean up and head to bed. thanks for that.” 

“not a problem. anytime you want another mind-numbing orgasm, you know where to find me,” he grins cockily.

elle’s cheeks sting but she can’t fight back the smile that’s curling on her lips, “sure thing.”

she smooths the hem of her shorts down, blinking a few more times as she hastily walks towards the door. there’s no way in hell that that just happened. it was something ripped straight from her thoughts, a mirrored image of the way she’s been thinking about him for weeks. her chest rises and falls quickly, hand reaching for the door knob. she needs to lay down immediately.

“oh and elle?,” he calls just as her hand comes in contact with the cool metal of the handle.

she tilts her head towards him, “hmm?”

“i meant it when i say i’ll dream of you,” he offers with a smirk and pink tinted cheeks. 

and in that moment, elle know she’s going to dream of him too. 

[sparkle-barnes]

Dry humping bucky while he holds!!! And then eventually he can’t anymore because you’ve been making him hold all day!!!

(tw watersports)

OH 😳

fuck!!! you’re straddling him, sat in his lap and he’s squirming under you! and he has an IRON grip on your hips as you hump over his erection, and he’s blushing so pretty and whining that he has to go. “fuck i can’t hold it much longer. please mommy!”

piss keeps leaking from his tip, drenching the front of his boxes and you curse, grinding down harder on him. you accidentally press on his bladder and a spurt escapes and he gasps, groaning as he struggles to keep holding.

eventually you give in and say “go on, bucky. make your mess.” and he finally lets go and empties his bladder into his boxers, warm pee hissing out of his half-hard cock.

his moans are pathetic as he goes and goes, his stream seemingly never ending, soaking his boxers and your panties and he’s whining “oh fuck it’s not stopping”