#need them all spreading their legs for me

[fushiguho]

Nanami Kento is the kind of man who always makes sure his lady’s nails are done. He doesn’t care the shape nor color, just that you get his initials on your ring finger each time, an unofficial token of your love — until he gets you the real thing, of course.

He grows utterly weak in the knees whenever you get them obscenely long or a little pointy (bonus points if you get gems or sparkly glitter.) He loves how confident it makes you feel, how your eyes gleam with elated gratitude whenever he presents you with his credit card or a wad of bills, suggesting you take the day for yourself.

Amongst the few, minute joys that lurk on this godforsaken planet, there is nothing that makes Nanami happier than when his favorite girl spends his hard earned money. He even asked you to resign from your job because he makes enough for the both of you. He hates to see you working anyway, he is a provider after all. What did you expect?

He’d wait ever so patiently for you to come back home. Watching the news or cooking a warm, heartfelt dinner, keeping himself occupied as we awaits your return, just imagining what it is you bought this time — lingerie? New shoes? Hours later, when you’re finally stumbling through the door with several overflowing shopping bags, a fresh set of acrylics, and a beaming smile, his cock swells.

Of course he’ll have you try on everything you bought, it’s only right. It’s his money after all, he just wants to ensure that it’s been well spent. Slouched lazily in an armchair, he’d gawk, shamelessly admiring his pretty girl. Gaunt legs sprawled idly as his head cocks to the right, a slow, sleazy grin twisting his lips. The trail of his sharp gaze warm and unwavering as you strip for him. Every once in a while, the amber of the overhead light reflects off of the gems that adorn your nails, the subtle glint catching attention.

A deep, audible groan ensues each time you peel off a garment of clothing, only to replace it with another, giving him his own, private runway show. His knee would bounce in anticipation, poor, aching cock growing impossibly harder by the minute and you can tell; you can see the way it strains against the restricting fabric of his slacks, begging to be taken care of. He can’t help but to reach out for you, his big, greedy hands finding purchase at the thick of your hips to pull you close, claiming that he just wants to see your nails a bit better, but that’s what he always says.

And it’s always harmless, benign. That is until you inevitably end up with his drooling cock lodged in the very back of your throat, sinful bubbles of saliva escaping from the corners of your tautly stretched lips. He’d hold you hand endearingly, babbling on about how pretty your nails are, how much it turns him on when you spend his money, how he promises to spoil you for the rest of your life.

God, it’s taking every fiber of his being not to fish for his wallet and spread a hefty stack of blue striped bills across the ample fat of your ass. The mere thought makes his cock twitch, heavy hips pushing forward, forcing himself deeeep down your slutty little throat, a thick stream of arousal pooling against your tastebuds.

He whines. “Fuuuuucck,” huffing out a strangled breath, an unintentional gasp following, “sweetheart, you are sooo perfect… such perfect throat, godddd… the way you’re looking u-up at me.” Nanami groans, blindly reaching for your hand, dragging it toward his slick, parted lips, “need to marry you — swear to fuckin’ god m’gonna marry you.” His tongue is whorishly lolling out before he’s drawing your fingers in deep, drooling down all of your pretty knuckles.

You're audibly sputtering around him in agreement, saliva spilling down your chin and pooling near the fat of his swollen balls. Gag after helpless gag reverberates from your occupied mouth, the poor, weeping head sinking deeper and deeper with each subtle buck of his hips, painting your throat in haphazard spurts of precum. He needs you like this forever, to take his cock like this forever. He'd give anything to make you his slutty, little wife forever and ever and —

“Pleasepleaseplease tell me you wanna marry me too,” he whines, warm, eager tongue wrapping so possessively around your ring finger, pulling it into his mouth, "oh, god please tell me you want that. I need you forever, baby... need this pretty little mouth forever.” His thick, blonde brows furrow so sweetly, voice strained and so plainly conquered by his evident love.

Physically, you can't respond and he knows; he's deliberately tucking himself deeper, the neat tufts of hair that adorn his girthy base tickling your chin. All you can offer him is a loud, helpless gag as you nod and he whimpers in relief. Yesyesyes, I'll marry you, is all he hears, your obedient, glassy eyes a testament.

So, why are you surprised when he’s hastily fetching a small, velvet box from the pocket of his discarded slacks, cracking it open in fervid anticipation, his cock resting heavily against your tongue? You said yes, right?

[heesimp]

Okay but sex addict heeseung pls pls like he loses his damn mind if he doesn't feel a pussy wrapped around him at least twice a day j gehssjsnsj

I looove the sex addict trope so much like it’s so hot imagining heeseung always wanting to fuck to the point that it’s all he can think about

warnings: mentions of porn (videos + magazines), doggy, use of a pocket pussy, fucking while on a zoom meeting (audio and camera are turned off), unprotected sex, creampie, implied mention of multiple rounds of fucking.

-

Heeseung loves sex.

Sex is so natural for him, the feeling of his cock springing to life makes his heart race because he loves getting himself off and watching himself be covered in his sticky cum. He’s always hard, even when his horniness is simmering underneath the surface.

You’re here to satiate that need with him ever since you moved in next door. One text from Heeseung and you’re coming over no matter the time of day because like him, you worked from home.

He’s supposed to be in a meeting but his cock needs to be wrapped up in something warm and tight. His camera and microphone are muted while he plows into your pussy from behind, one knee on his bed while his other foot is planed beside you to push himself so deep into your hole that you feel him right in your cervix.

“Love this tight pussy,” he moans and grips your ass to push and pull you back into him despite the sound of his manager talking in the background. “I’d fuck you all day if you let me.”

Back when he was younger and first learned how he loved to pleasure himself, he thinks his obsession with sex began when he found porn magazines underneath his brother’s bed just before college. He’s not afraid to admit he stole it out of sheer curiosity and felt his cock harden upon seeing naked tits and wet pussies out on full display for him like that. Heeseung pretended these women were spreading themselves out for him and that alone was enough to make his bedsheets dirty every single time.

College was where he let loose. Heeseung practically bathed himself in sex with the amount of girls he’d meet every single weekend at parties to make friends and get some action. This was the first time he’d been away from home and the unsupervised weeks made for a perfect excuse to get fucked up on the weekends and have sex without abandon. Nobody could tell him what to do and he knows he’s hot enough to get his dick wet at the snap of his fingers.

He’s never met anybody who shares his libido but it doesn’t matter to him much when girls opened up their legs for him. He’s not shy about it at all, eating pussy like he’ll die without it and fucking them like he doesn’t know how to do anything else. Heeseung needs to have sex and he needs to have something wrapped up around him at all times of the day. No exceptions.

His best purchase was a pocket pussy when he first moved into his one bedroom apartment without any roommates. Heeseung was free to masturbate whenever he wanted and didn’t have to time the arrival of a dorm mate with his sex sessions. He no longer needed to touch himself in the quiet of the night and didn’t need to worry about how loud he was moaning since there wasn’t a single person who he needed to worry about.

Heeseung would sit in meetings with his camera off and stroke himself with his toy and he’d fuck it during the nights when no one was free to come over. Netflix had nothing on the loud fry of his voice when he’d plunge his hardened cock into the lives toy and it was never enough to cum just once. He knows the tight silicon toy enables his addiction but he really doesn’t care. His favorite way to use it is when he puts his favorite porn videos on his tv and uses it to get off while he puts the toy in all positions on his couch.

Somehow, meeting you the day you moved in next to him felt like fate. He welcomed you into the neighborhood by giving you four consecutive orgasms and the following week made you realize your neighbor loved to fuck.

He abandoned his regular flings for you, telling himself it was the convenience. You loved the feeling is his dick shoved down your throat or when he was lodged inside of your hole, so much that it didn’t matter what time of day it was, you would always be free for him.

You find yourself on your hands and knees more often, especially at this our on this day of the week. This is when Heeseung has an hour long internal meeting that he isn’t needed for but has to attend anyway. It’s the perfect window to have a quick fuck. Heeseung doesn’t even need to text you because you always come knocking on his door when it starts.

“I’m gonna cum again,” he grunts when he watches your orgasm coat his cock. “Fuck, fuck, yeah. I’m cumming baby.”

He stills his hips when he spurts right into you just as his manager shares his screen for a PowerPoint presentation. Heeseung clenches his ass and pushes the rest of his cum out of you, which bubbles around your opening and seeps right back onto his softening cock.

It’s too good to quit. Heeseung doesn’t think he could ever stop fucking.

***

please reblog if you liked it and feel free to send me scenarios and ideas :)

[loveanddeepdick]

nerd!nanami halloween edition

batman & catwoman

nerd!nanami who helps you into your costume. it was supposed to be a surprise but there was so much tight latex you had no choice but to ask him for help. gojo had invited you to his annual halloween party in his penthouse and nanami reluctantly accepted the invitation.

“honey.. are you sure this thing is made for.. humans? it looks like a medieval torture method,” nanami grunts as he pulls the latex up your legs, “are you in any pain—shit! are you in any pain, dear?”

“no, no, kenny! just get it on my arms and we’re all done!”

“i might have to oil you up, dear..” he chuckles wholeheartedly before he pauses, realizing his innuendo.

“… okay ken,” you giggle, slapping his arm.

nerd!nanami who finally gets the whole costume on you after another hour while his batman costume only took a max of five minutes to pull on.

“i think i look silly, dear,” he runs his hands over his hair before putting on the black mask, his face dwarfing the spirit halloween accessory. he was just ginormous in all ways.

“you don’t look silly! i think you look very handsome,” you smile, rubbing a hand over his biceps under the black shirt. he refused to wear anything too silly, opting for a black batman shirt and black sweats along with the mask.

you two stood before your bathroom mirror as you giggle excitedly at the sight. you whipped out your phone, taking what seemed like a thousand photos of him before you two left for gojo’s halloween party.

nerd!nanami who tries his hardest to hide his boner at the party. he was a reasonable man, of course he let you go have fun and party with your friends. but that didn’t stop him from keeping a possessive eye on you.

he couldn’t believe it. his girlfriend. his catwoman. he used to pray for a day like this to come. he had to pinch himself to realize it wasn’t a dream and that you were indeed real, a goddess in his eyes.

nerd!nanami who doesn’t last for another thirty minutes seeing you in that costume, pulling you to a guest bedroom in gojo’s penthouse where you two usually stayed if you crashed there.

you gasped as he pressed you down against the bed.

“hold on, kenny i’ll just—“

you try to take off the panted pants yourself until your hear a loud stretch and a rubbery rip. you shriek, eyes widen as you look back and he’s got the spandex in two pieces, baring your thighs and pussy to him.

“please, honey.. i need you now,” nanami groaned, pushing his hand along your back to guide you back onto your stomach.

gojo’s sheets were always cotton, thank god. they’d be easy to wash after this.

nerd!nanami who has your head pushed into the pillows as he plows your pussy from the back, spanking your ass to watch them move like water.

“fffuck, baby.. you feel so good”

nanami groaned as he leaned forward, angling deeper inside you as his cock reached what seemed like you stomach.

“kennnn.. so big!”

“shh, shh i know, i know, baby, just take it,” he grunted as he felt you clench at his words, reaching down to rub your clit as he watched you drool onto the pillow.

“i-im gonna—ah! i’m gonna!”

“you’re gonna what, honey? use your words”

“i’m gonna cum, kennnn”

he was never the one to tease you or enjoy watching you like this, but something inside him snapped when he watched you stumble over your words, whining to try to find your sense of mind when you went dumb on his cock.

“cum for me, baby, c’mon, i know you”

“fffuck! ken!”

your pussy held his cock like a vice and shit, thank god he wasn’t batman cause he would never be saving the world since he has you waiting at home.

he shot thick, creamy ropes of cum deep into your pussy, warmth filling you up as you sighed contently. he pulled out, admiring you for a minute, watching as his cum spilled out. he was about to get up to clean you until he saw you subtly wiggle your hips, the sight of your plump ass, your ruined pussy, your legs only half covered in spandex, fuck it only made him hard again.

he leaned in, spreading you open, watching your gaping, twitching holes before licking a stripe over them as you shivered

“honey, how about i clean you up, hm?”

[beloveds-embrace]

brain empty only thought - TF141 are all dancers for magic mike in london and give their stage manager a private show

I love your brain anon 😩 taking free liberties with whatever a show manager does here fyi lol but i also tried to watch an actual magic mike show but i turned into a blushing mess and had to stop halfway. Fair warning tho, i’ve never written anything quite like this 😭 all of this is safe, sane and consensual

You are such a good stage manager to them, though, always ensuring everyone is on the same page, communications are going well, all props are set and the most important thing in your opinion; all the dancers are doing well. You always make sure there are plenty of drinks, they’re well-slept and ready and-

You do so much for them, such a good stage manager. It’s only right that they spoil you with a private show all carered to you, in a private room where they make you sit down on chair placed right in the middle.

Have you seen this choreography before? Yes. Are you in any shape or way ready to have Kyle kneel in front of you on one knee, gazing up at you like you are star, and spread your thighs open so he can nuzzle his face right between your tights? You aren’t.

“Smell so fuckin’ good, pretty.” Gaz mumbles, groaning low against your skin.

Your face is flaming red, feeling him kiss the soft pudge of your thighs before he slides up with a wink so Johnny takes place on your lap, leather jeans tight on his ass and bulge. He takes your hovering hands, and places them on his thighs while he grinds against you, hips pressing together.

You can barely bite your noises back, clenching your thighs shut.

“No staying silent, bonnie,” he croons, thumb rubbing your lips. You hadn’t even realized your mouth was slack and open until he pushes his thumb in for a few seconds, and you obediently, impulsively, suck on it. His eyes darken, and he leans to kiss the corner of your lips, hovering over your lap. “Good girl.”

It takes everything in you not to whine out loud, drenched between your thighs.

When he moves off with another kiss, it’s Ghost who kneels in front of her, the music slower now, deeper. He takes her hands, kissing her palms through his mask and guiding her hands to the buttons of his silk button-up that bared his defined collarbones already, scarred skin glowing the more you reveal of him.

God, you want to bite him so badly.

“Look at me, doll.” He orders, and you so easily obey you can see the crinkle in his mask. Like a snake, Ghost twists his body so his back is across your knees, shoulders and head on your lap, peering up at you with his legs spread and holding his body up.

“Si-“ you whine at last, resolve breaking. He pulls your hands down his shoulders, and you take the hint by caressing his pecs, his abs, the strong muscles taut under your exploring hands. Feeling just a little bold and knowing he doesn’t mind, your fingers tease along his belt.

“He’s so fucking handsome, isn’t he?” Captain Price croons behind you, big hands settling on your shoulders, dipping into your blouse to toy with your bra straps. “All my boys are. But you’re our girl, aren’t you? Our pretty, beautiful girl, always working so hard for us. My boys adore you, sugar.”

Your mouth dries up, staring up at him, hands still on Ghost. “I…”

“No words needed, doll.” he scoffs, smug the way only a man who knows how easily he can command a room can be. His hands leave your skin and before you can pout, he’s reaching under your thighs to carefully pull you up while still being mindful of Simon. He sits in your chair, you on his lap and Ghost still under your touch. “Let us spoil you, yeah?”

And who are you to even think about saying no to such a beautiful, tempting offer?

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Scaramouche and Kinich (separately) refusing to wear a sexy Halloween costume so you don’t let them cum until they put it on 🤫🎃

Pairings: Scaramouche, Kinich x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male!reader, switch/top!reader, sub/bottom!characters, teasing, denial, edging, implied crossdressing, maid outfit + blowjob (Kinich), daddy kink + power struggle (Scara), small dick Scara

“No. Not happening.” he spat. His expression remained stern and his conviction steadfast.

This was not going to dissuade you, however. You were determined to see your sweet boyfriend in the sexy costume you (oh so lovingly) picked out (just for him).

“Why not? Where's your Halloween spirit?!” if looks could kill, then you would be shot dead where you stand as your partner glares through your very being. Guess you'll have to play dirty if you want this to happen…

Placing your hands on the bed—caging Scaramouche in—you lean in for another kiss. He's reluctant to accept, afraid you may have some trick up your sleeve. Still, he allows you to slip your tongue past his tender lips, and he's so quick to melt into the kiss it's almost pitiful.

Your knee presses between his legs, putting pressure on his little cock, and Scaramouche instantly humps your thigh. His body reacts in the cutest ways; arching his back off of the bed, twitching his hips as he grinds his clothed dick on your leg, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt the longer this goes on.

In need of air, you pull away. “Why do you always taste so damn good? You're addicting, you know that?” Scara lets out a single proud laugh, soaking up your praise like a sponge.

“I wanna make you feel good, babe. Want to–” Scara hums as your lips brush against his throat, leaving wet kisses in their wake. “–make you see stars.”

Scaramouche chuckles, hanging onto every word that falls from your deceptive lips. He bucks into your touch when you cup a hand over his cock, rubbing the rough fabric of his pants against the sensitive gland. “Won't you let me? My one and only?”

All the anemo user can think about is your touch and honeyed words—completely ignoring the warning signals from his brain as you drown them in sweet poison. Whatever, what's important is having his hands on me and his dick where I want it.

With a sly smile, your darling spreads his legs, inviting you to pamper him like you promised.

You slide your hand into his shorts eagerly, pleasuring him exactly how he likes it — doing all of the moves that drive him wild. Within minutes, Scara's cock is engorged and weeping with precum. His thighs tense and tremble, all while you keep him on the cusp of an orgasm without actually giving it to him.

His sharp voice cuts through the air as he demands; “That's enough! I know you're just–” the moan that escapes as you focus in on his tip catches Scaramouche off guard. “shit… you're j-just teasing me! I thought you said you wanted to make me feel good?”

“And this doesn't feel good?” you retort, sending a smartass look right back at him.

A groan rumbles through his small chest. “It does, but you know what you're doing, y/n. Get to the real stuff — either put that mouth to good use, or stick it in already.”

Ouch. If you didn't have a master plan in motion, you might've done just that, just to shut him up. But you're not giving him what he needs until you get what you want.

“Hmm… no~” his eye twitches at that. You've stopped moving your hand completely, simply holding his little cock while you smirk down at him. When he attempts to move his hips himself, and thrust into your hand, you hold his hips down, darkening your expression as a warning.

“I could allow you to cum… but you have to do something for me. Are you feeling agreeable tonight, my love?”

Scaramouche scoffs when you say that affectionate term with such disrespect. A part of him knows what you're going to say next — and he ushers you to go on.

“I picked out a little somethin' somethin' for you yesterday. If you wear it for me, I'll give you everything you want for the rest of the night~”

He fucking hates how easily you tempt him into going along with your ridiculous schemes… but he can't ignore his raging hard-on and your relentless edging either. He knows damn well that, if he doesn't agree, you will edge his brain out through his cock. You will prevent him from cumming—and the only thing on his mind will become you, and only you.

The tension remains for a moment — Scaramouche swallows thickly, then growls. “Fine. Lemme see what you bought for me.”

With an excited squeal you dash over to the closet, rummaging around until you find the item in question. You grasp the clothing tightly and return to Scaramouche's side, holding it out for him to take. He examines it for a minute, unfolding the cloth until he can tell what it is–

His lavender eyes blow wide open, and he scoffs “Are you insane? Do you actually expect me to put this on?”

“No. But if you want to cum…” There is no string of curses strong enough to convey your lover's frustration with you right now. Putting this outfit on would be humiliating, embarrassing, and destroy whatever integrity the puppet has left.

Scaramouche stares at the costume, fidgeting with it between his fingers. His head is hung low as a thousand thoughts swim through his brain. It's just for a little bit. You'll put it on, try to ignore it, and let him fuck you. He said he would do whatever you say, so as long as there are no tricks to this, you're the real winner here, right?

Fuck… it's so– so lewd. Do humans really find this kind of thing attractive? Besides, it looks like it's meant for a girl… Agh, but I'm already hard and if I refuse, he's just going to torture me all night. Just… just put it on. Once it's on I hold all of the power and he'll have to obey me. He promised.

“Don't stare while I undress… pervert.”

Trying to contain the absolutely diabolical grin on your face is useless. And you can't tear your gaze away as Scaramouche removes his remaining clothing. You do at least try to keep your eyes moving, but it's so hard when he slips his shorts down and his perfectly round butt is right there, facing you! His entire body is just a few feet away—with no barriers to get in your way. His skin is smooth—practically flawless—except for his back; which is littered with circular scars from a past he technically never experienced. Yet, when he regained the memories of that past, the markings etched themselves back into his being. Thinking back to the cause of those scars, you find your thoughts drifting some place (and some time) far, far away…

“You just couldn't help yourself, huh? Hellooo? Teyvat to y/n—wake up.”

You blink rapidly, shaking your head to get those lingering thoughts out. “Uh y-yeah. Mm, you look even better than I thought you would, love. The panties were a nice addition, don't you think?” your confident attitude returns as you take in the sight of Scaramouche in the skimpy get up.

“Shut it… I can't believe I'm doing this…” the puppet whines, though his dick still stands at full attention while he complains.

His slim waist tempts you, and you can't stop yourself from grabbing it and pulling him closer. Scaramouche glares up at you, but he finds himself leaning in as your body heat seeps into his person. The tender moment is ruined when you lift his body and toss him onto the bed in one quick motion.

“Oof! Tch, in a hurry now, are we?”

“Maybe a little bit~” Perhaps it's the lack of clothing that's causing him to feel extra vulnerable, but Scaramouche finds himself squirming under your piercing gaze quickly. Your eyes burn right through him — eyeing him as if he's nothing but a piece of meat for you to tear into and devour. He doesn't entirely notice how his thighs press together to hide his most vulnerable area, not until you slide a hand between them and spread his legs wide open, that is.

“MmmMMmM… o-ok, I did my part, now you have to– aah~ Stop it–” the puppet whines as you rub your hand over his tiny cock, jumbling his thoughts. Precum has already left a stain where the tip is, and it flows through more of the thin fabric as you stroke the underside of his dick with your fingers. “you have to hold up your end of the bargain, right? mmMPH–!”

“I suppose I do. Then, tell me what you want me to do next~” your reply in a silky smooth tone. Within seconds Scaramouche is guiding your hands underneath those cheap panties, letting out an adorable gasp when your fingernails graze his sensitive cock.

“Stroke it, and don't stop unless I tell you to.” With a sultry yet mocking 'yes sir', you continue your earlier motions. Using your extensive knowledge of your partner's sexual preferences, it's only a matter of minutes before you get him wet and needy. Scaramouche has wrapped his arms around your neck, keeping the two of you tethered while his dick leaks all over his tummy. The skimpy costume is long since tainted with the scent of sex and sweat — and he hasn't even cum yet!

The puppet lets out a desperate whine, panting your next order with urgency; “Here! In here!” he guides your hand down to his wet hole, coated in his own juices that have been dribbling down his ass the whole time. You sink in up to the first knuckle and Scaramouche chokes on his moan — your other hand has remained wrapped around his little cock, just as he demanded, bringing an endless flow of pleasure to his hazy brain.

“AhHN– deeper! F-finger me more! aaAHH–!!” his body jerks as you insert your entire index finger into his ass. Scaramouche grits his teeth, humping his cock against your palm while you work his hole open.

When he feels ready enough, he tells you to stop, pulling off the soiled panties himself and demanding for you to take out your dick and fuck him with him.

“yyeEESS-! mmph~” Scaramouche groans as you slide your thick shaft inside. “Bury it deeper—deeper! mHM-MM like that~” His walls clamp down on your dick, preventing you from leaving his hot insides even if you wanted to (and you don't~ 💖). Watching your lover unravel beneath you in that slutty get-up keeps your cock rock solid as it rams his cute little hole—splitting him in two with every thrust.

Grabbing his waist a little too tightly, you control Scara's movement, preventing your dick from going more than halfway in—which earns a growl from the puppet. “–the hell are you doing? I didn't say slow down.”

“Do you want to cum?” What kind of a question is that? Of course he does! Scaramouche can feel his balls tighten as you fuck him, preparing a load bigger than you would expect someone of his size to be able to produce. His hole aches to be filled again — ready to receive your own load all in his guts.

“Yes! K-keep— hnmgh don't stop pleeease!”

Frustrated, Scaramouche claws into your forearms, while you simply hold him still and smirk down at his bratty form. “Well, you did ask nicely.” you laugh, thrusting back inside so far that you can feel your cock hit the off switch on his brain. “Gonna give me a nice big cumshot, right? All over that pretty tummy of yours?” The only response the puppet can muster is a vigorous nod and a whimper.

“Yeah? Good, good. Fuck… cum for daddy, Scara. Give daddy that fuckin' load, huh?”

Like a magic word, that was all it took to push Scaramouche over the edge — bringing him to a shuddering climax as he shouts “Yes yes yes! Please, daddy, gonna c-cumMM—!! 💙” His voice falters as he cums — shooting the warm substance onto his own pelvis while his eyes cross. That pornographic expression Scaramouche wears causes you to cum soon after, filling his tiny body with your warmth.

Though he doesn't physically have a heart, you still swear that you can hear the rapid beating in his chest as Scaramouche settles down, regaining his senses while you gently stroke his cheek.

Your body gives out, collapsing on his chest as you both pass out for an indiscernible amount of time. “Hey, pretty boy, how ya feeling?” you ask with a groggy voice, brushing a bit of hair away from his eyes.

Stretching his arms out, Scara replies “Sore, tired… but it felt nice too, I guess.” he turns his face away from you as he adds that last part, finding it embarrassing to admit such a thing. You chuckle at his sudden shyness and lean your head down to place a kiss on his cheek, then his nose when he turns his head back to glare at you weakly.

Before you get up to clean yourselves off, you keep Scaramouche pinned, not yet ready to let go as you assault his face, neck, chest, and hands with kisses.

“Oh, but… but, my love, you would look so pretty in the clothing I chose for you.” you feign disappointment, frowning as you fake a sniffle. Kinich crosses his arms and stares at you, clearly not falling for the act.

With a huff, you drop the false sadness and straighten your stance. “Alright, Mr. No Fun, can we still have sex though?”

Only someone who understands the saurian hunter intimately would notice the spark of emotion in those gorgeous eyes—and the slight twitch of his lip before he answers you — “Yes, just stop pouting.”

You sigh in relief, closing the distance between you and your lover and cupping his cheeks as you breath “Thank you…” Kinich uncrosses his arms, placing a gloved hand on your cheek and leaning closer. The kisses start off chaste and gentle, but as you taste more and more of your lover on your lips, you feel the addiction creeping in. Gradually, the kisses become longer—deeper. Kinich allows your tongue to slip past his lips with zero resistance, and he lets a single moan out as you pull him closer.

“I jus'… needed you today.” you slur between hot kisses. “Haah… gods, I really fuckin' need you, Kinich. Lemme know if this is too much, please–” With a soft thud, Kinich falls onto your mattress. His hands snake around your body as it presses against his—pinning him down while you desperately trail kisses down his neck.

The saurian hunter makes no effort to resist, even tugging at the waist of your pants; just as impatient as you are. “No, it's… it's fine. Mm, this is nice.”

Suddenly, his clothes are too tight, and everything feels way too hot as his loving partner assaults him with affection. Groping at Kinich's chest proves to be the secret at making him melt even faster; his nipples harden under the tight fabric, making it that much easier to play with them and make your sweetheart arch his back.

Something catches his attention — pointing his gaze down a little, Kinich notices how hard you've become just from a bit of making out. Your pants struggle to contain your excitement, and your lover finds it hard to contain his own now. You notice Kinich staring, and his cheeks heat up at the humiliation of getting caught. “See something you like?” you tease.

His reply is snarky, but the look in his eyes betrays that tone. “You wish.” After that sass, you decide to tease your darling a bit.

Taking your index finger and dragging it down his chest, flicking over one of his nipples in the process, until you reach that big jacket tied around his waist. Your hand dips underneath, reaching further down until… “Ooh, so wet already? Your body can't lie, you know.”

At this, Kinich rolls his eyes, which devolves into his eyes rolling back as you rub your thumb around his slit. His cock twitches in your hand, dribbling precum down his skin. Your tone drops to something more sultry and intimidating as you question Kinich; “You do like what you see. You want to feel relief—to cum and relieve all of that pent up tension—am I right?”

He can only nod his head reluctantly, succumbing to your devious scheme without entirely realizing it. You stroke his cock once and the sickening slick noise that it makes causes Kinich to squirm under your know-it-all gaze. You pretend to think for a second, then offer, “You know, I have a solution that I think we'll both love~”

“I'm not wearing that stupid—”

“JUST hear me out;” you interject, “if you wear that pretty costume for me, I will do whatever you want, you need only give me the order. Sounds like a fair price, doesn't it?”

The gears turn in Kinich's head for a moment, before he lets out a sigh of defeat. “You'll do anything I want?”

“Anything. Your wish is my command.” you reassure.

“This must be some costume if you're willing to give me control just like that.” a faint smirk makes itself onto the saurian hunter's features.

You laugh as the image of the costume comes to mind. “See for yourself — I left it in the drawer over there, in case you changed your mind~”

—

Five minutes later, your beloved emerges from the corner of the room where he went to change into this silly thing. “This is what you're into? Really?”

You take that as your cue to turn around. Immediately, your eyes light up at the glorious view before you: Kinich—in all of his perfection—wearing a blasphemous version of a maid uniform. It's mostly white frills that leave nothing to the imagination, white sheer thigh highs, and a frilly headband. The costume does a wonderful job showing off all of your darling's best assets; like his arm muscles, thighs, and his ass that isn't covered at all at the back of the dress.

Kinich rolls his eyes again as he takes a seat at the end of the bed. Now that he's sitting, his cock pokes up under the tiny skirt, attracting your lustful eye with ease. This does not go unnoticed. “See something you like?” he mocks.

You can only bite your lip as you nod, still staring directly at his boner as it creates a glaring shape, and a darkening spot where his cock is leaking through the frills. Kinich motions for you to come closer, leaving you to stand there in front of him while his confidence rises through the roof at your display of compliance. “Kneel.” you drop to your knees instantly, nearly drooling at the thought of what's to come next.

“Say 'aaah'.” you open your mouth obediently, and watch as Kinich flips the skirt up, revealing his twitching dick. He guides it into your wet mouth, petting your hair while you wrap your lips around his tip and begin to suck. You hum happily around his cock, adjusting to his size as the minutes pass.

Kinich notices you fidgeting restlessly, and offers “You wanna put your hands on me?” you nod and whine around his cock. “Go ahead.” he allows, placing your hands on his thighs so that you can mindlessly rub and squeeze them while you suck him off. Kinich holds the back of your head, and you let your mouth hang open so he can fuck your throat freely. You can't help gagging as he pleasures himself with your mouth, but it's not a bad feeling. You're just happy that you can have someone so amazing in this way.

Even with something filling your mouth, you're still hungry for more. You've let Kinich control the pace until now—until you wrap your arms around the backs of his thighs and hold him still while you suck him silly.

The saurian hunter can't hold in the shameless moan that comes out as he tips his head back, filling up your mouth with his load. “mmMhM! Y-yes-!” Kinich reaches behind him, grabbing the sheets in his fist as he rides out his orgasm by humping your face—all while you leave handprints on his thighs from how hard you've been holding them.

His cock pops out of your mouth, still connected by a string of cum, and you pant as air fills your lungs again. Kinich's vision is blurry, but he can faintly make out your half-lidded eyes as you look up at him, sticking out your tongue to show that you swallowed it all.

“Damn, that was pretty intense. I guess I should wear this more often if it means being rewarded like that.” he smiles, leaning back on one hand and using the other to pet your hair.

“Yeah, you should.” you reply, pushing his chest so that he falls backwards as you stand up. Now you tower over your shaky lover, scanning over his body and savoring every curve and muscle as you do.

Kinich winces when you pull him flush against you by his thighs. “What…?”

“Did you really think I would be satisfied with just that? Please, Kinich, that was only the beginning.” you tease, “There's so much more I want to do to you while you're still wearing this~”

[emmyrosee]

GIRL I GOT ANOTHER IDEA SO EXCUSE ME😝

SO u come back from work super tired from a really hard day and have no energy to take ur makeup off so sukuna offers to do it for u and LET ME TELL YOU this man does not know how to do anything without being aggressive 🙄(typical) so hes drowning the cotton pad in makeup remover and starts aggressively rubbing on ur face purposely just to make u laugh and ur giggling and laughing and slapping his chest telling him to stop cause he’s getting the remover in ur eye and he has no idea what he’s doing THEN ITS ENDS UP BEING ALL KISSY AND STUFF ANYWAY BYE❤️❤️❤️🩷

-Anon🥢

IM GOING TO- *combusts*

———

The way you haphazardly toss your keys on the table, only for them to slip and fall off is exactly the last thing you need.

After today, where one step forward was three back, where nothing went right and nothing was easy, the sight of your keys on the floor has your body tensing in annoyance and shrills of angst down your spine.

You let out a shaky sigh, “I’m home!”

No reply. Your hands ball into fists, “I SAID IM HOME!”

“DAMN I heard you, gimme three seconds!” A gruff voice calls back. You can’t fight the smirk that wants to spread on your tired features, and your hands come up to rub your exhausted eyes. Loud footsteps come down the hall and you drop your hands to blink at him. He snorts, “raccoon looking ass.”

“Oh. Right. I was wearing mascara.”

“It’s fine, not like you’ve got to impress me anyways,” he says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “how was your day?”

“Terrible,” you whine. You angle your head to look up at him, “can’t I just be your pretty girlfriend and you provide for me?”

He snickers, “I offered, you told me that if you didn’t have independence you’d smother me with a pillow. So no. You can’t.” You groan and bury your face in his chest, and he clicks his tongue, “I can take care of you now, though. If you beg prettily enough.”

“You’re going to make your overworked, burnt out, exhausted future wife beg for your attention?”

“No. I’m going to make her beg to be babied.”

You paw at his chest, fingers fisting the collar of his shirt, “please, sukuna, take care of me for a bit. I’m so tired, and you know how much I already hate asking for your help, but I need you. Please, I just want to be loved for a bit.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your forehead, “that’s more like it. C’mon-“ he bends down to hook his massive hands under your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. You giggle and instinctively tighten your arms around his shoulders, “let’s get your clown makeup off.”

“‘S not clown makeup,” you pout, playing with the hair of his buzz cut. “Tell me I’m pretty.”

“Dawg.”

“Please?” You mewl, pulling back to look down at him, and he rolls his eyes and nudges the bathroom door open with his knee.

“Fuck, you’re really in a headspace huh?” He says, plopping you on the counter. He braces himself on either side of your legs, and he looks you up and down. “Of course you’re beautiful, baby. Taking a lot of control to not smother you right now. Especially with you all pliant, fuck you’re so pretty. Let me take care of you, yeah? Let me make ya feel better.”

“Okay,” you hum. He leans up to press a kiss to your lips before opening the drawer for a cotton square he knows he’s seen you use before. Then, he reaches just behind you to the small shelf, and grabs your makeup remover. “You know what you’re doing?” You ask.

“Babe, I’ve seen you do this more times than I care to count,” he scoffs. “Trust me. I know far too much about what I’m doing.” He pops off the cap and absolutely drenches the poor cotton in an overwhelming amount of makeup remover. He starts to bring it to your eyes, and you laugh and duck away.

“Baby, that’s too much!”

“More makeup remover, more makeup removed,” he says, and while his logic is wrong, you do giggle at the idea he’s trying to help, and while it’s amusing, you don’t want to lose this domesticity with him either.

So, you close your eyes and laugh more as he applies the wet cotton round to your eyes, pressing hard enough the juices spill over your cheeks. “Sukuna!” You titter.

“You want this done or not?” He asks, smearing the cotton around your eye and cheek to try and swipe off any makeup clinging to you. He’s rough with his wiping, pulling your eyes and making your cheeks hot from friction, and you swat at his hands to try and make some relief. “Okay, now you’re hindering.”

“It burns,” you confess, but you’re still laughing.

You practically feel the air go from goofy to panic, “what burns, what do you mean it burns, why does it burn, it doesn’t burn when you do it right?”

“Chill, you big baby,” you snort. “It’s in my eye because you used all 200% of your strength on my damn socket. Just get me a wet cloth, it’ll be fine.”

You watch him fling open the closet door and grab a small washcloth, dampening it with water before passing it to you. He clicks his tongue, “for reference, this is why I never offer to help you.”

“Because you use your brute strength and power to battle the very-easily-removable-mascara from my eyes?”

“Exactly.”

You smile up at him while he tosses the cotton round in the trash, only to then scowl down at you when he meets your gaze. “The fuck’re you looking at?”

“My boyfriend, who loves me,” you coo, and he rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your lips, which you happily reciprocate.

“He smeared makeup all over your face,” he snickers. “You look rough.”

“That’s okay,” you shrug. “He tried his best.”

“Ew.”

[stxrslut]

THE SLEEPOVER ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

summary; during a lovely sleepover with your best friend sarah cameron, you admit to never once having orgasmed before, the confession makes your best friend feel ever so guilty, she feels simply obligated to show her innocent best friend how to please herself right now.

content; pillow humping, fingering, guided masturbation, innocent!reader

this evening has been ever so lovely, just like every evening on which you’ve slept over at your best friend sarah’s house. you’re always taken care of so well there. 

right now you’re sitting up on her bed with her, all tucked in while you both watch some neon pink 2000s chick flick on the tv. although not much attention is being paid, you’re both too absorbed in a happy conversation. 

you’re all about oversharing with sarah, you do it all the time. she’s does it with you too, in fact she’s doing it right now, going off on a rant about some stupid guy who tried to come on to her at the country club. 

“and I considered it just for the sex, y’know, because I haven’t had a good orgasm in weeks,” she stresses the last word with wide eyes, leaning a little closer to you before continuing, “but I decided I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him. I can just make myself feel good after all.” 

you tilt your head, nodding along, “that makes sense.” of course you have not a clue about it. you’ve never had sex, or even pleasured yourself for that matter. it has just never been something that had occurred to you to do. “do you.. do that a lot?” you ask, you know she won’t be opposed to it. 

“not more than it’s normal to,” she shrugs, leaning back, “I mean you do it right?” her question is intended to be pretty rhetorical but she notices immediately when you react unexpectedly. 

you look down, “I don’t— I- I haven’t..” self consciousness washes over you for a second. even though you know that it’s not oversharing in her eyes, it’s still a little embarrassing to admit. 

she looks shocked to say the least, her mouth falling slightly open before she can stop herself and regulate her reaction. “like.. never?” 

you shake your head, “no… don’t know how even if I tried.” 

that sentence seems to make her think, her eyebrows furrow for a second before she shakes her head, not accepting your statement, “no. no no no. you can’t.. not know. you’re missing out.. I mean.. how do you even feel good? no. I’ll just have to teach you.”

that is the conversation that leads you into the most vulnerable position you’ve been in for a long time. sitting up, leaning back on your arms, legs spread open over a pillow, your nightgown pulled up to reveal your glossy folds. 

“oh you need it,” sarah coos, she’s bent down so that her face is level with your pussy. “give me your hand,” she speaks gently, reaching out to take it. she pulls it down and guides you to touch yourself. 

your fingers are cold, having been out in the air conditioned open. it proves quite a shock when two of them collide with the small bundle of nerves you know to be your clitoris. 

you let out a whimper of confused emotion, mostly pleasure, mixed with some unsureness and maybe a little bit of curiosity too. you’d felt pleasure before, and of course you’d had that small need for pressure in this area before. but actually feeling that pressure, it’s overwhelming. 

you notice that she’s guiding your fingers in small circles in time with the pulsing of your nerves. her free hand climbs up to touch your hole before sliding two fingers in and moving them in a rhythmic pace with the circles. creating the perfect mixture of feelings to make you feel amazing. 

you both keep it up for many minutes. your hips are bucking and moving involuntarily as the sensation becomes more intense. the pressure gets stronger and you start to feel a sort of knot forming in your stomach. 

at some point she’d let go of your fingers to let you rub yourself independently, like how a parent lets go of the back of their child’s bike when they become confident they can ride by themselves. 

“oh! m’gonna–” you can barely make up words as the pleasure overwhelms you. your breathing is all ragged and shaky, “sarah… gonna cum.” you cry out, movement speeding up frantically before the feeling of bliss finally washes over you.

it's such a new feeling, and yet so primal, like it's rooted into you. you could tell when it was coming and now you lean into it and experience like you already had one hundred times. you throw your head back and moan loudly, completely disregarding the fact that you and sarah are not the only people in this house.

sarah is looking up at you with a grin on her face. she's still touching you, helping you through and letting you savour the feeling for as long as you possibly can. she has a proud little twinkle in her eyes, she's so happy that she's been able to help her best friend feel such a good feeling for the first time, she realises she wouldn't have wanted it to be at the hands of anybody else. 

she waits for you to come down and once you do she swoops in, leaning forward to pull your tired out body against hers, “you did so well,” she kisses you cheek in a gentle, affectionate manner. “were gonna get cleaned up now, yeah? then we can rewind that movie.”

[lanadelnegan]

Sober Enough

S7 Negan x Assistant

Summary: After 2 years of being Negan’s assistant and remaining professional, one night of playing pool together in the Sanctuary's lounge changes everything. Warnings: 18+, smut, extreme dry humping, c*m licking (lots of it), angst, negan being sweet, very slight daddy kink

“You’re insufferable. You know that?” I glare at Negan from across the pool table.

His chest rises and falls with a laugh as he leans over the table, adjusting his stance. “So I’ve been told, doll.” He smirks before sinking the striped ball into the pocket.

“I mean, seriously. Who needs multiple wives?”

He strides around to my side of the table, plucking his beer from the bar behind me and taking a generous gulp.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous.” His gaze drags over me, igniting a heat within me I’ve kept hidden for two years—ever since I became his assistant, or right-hand woman, as he calls it.

I laugh, trying to shake off the warmth spreading through me. “Do you hear yourself, Negan? I think you’re drunk.”

I lean over to line up my shot, but my balance falters, and I tumble into him. His arms wrap around my waist from behind, steadying me. The scent of his leather jacket and woodsy cologne envelops me and I breathe him in.

He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I’m sober enough to catch you.”

Something about his tone and the way his arms are still clinging to me has my heart beating out of my chest. His lips skim across my neck and I smell his minty breath laced with beer, a reminder that this is probably just the alcohol talking.

If I were sober enough myself, I’d plunge out of his arms and call it a night. But my heart is tired of pretending I’m not head over heels in love with this man and have been for a while.

I turn around in his arms, my chest now pressing against his as I look up at him. “What else are you sober enough to do?” My hands roam teasingly along his chest, coming across much more confident than what I’m feeling on the inside.

His slightly glazed-over eyes dart back and forth between mine. He looks like he’s battling himself on the inside right now and I wish I knew what he was thinking. Before I can ask, he leans down and presses his lips to mine, tilting my chin up to gain better access as he deepens the kiss.

I let out a whimper that makes him growl in return, and he turns my back to the pool table, setting me on it like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his waist and he holds them there, his rough hands gripping the back of my bare thighs.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me? Walking around here all day in these pretty little dresses, begging for my attention?”

I don’t bother arguing with him. Mostly because he’s right.

His hand closes around my neck gently, claiming me as his. When I let out another whimper, he continues. “That’s what you want, right? My attention?”

He stands between my legs and I don’t know where to put my hands, so I rest them behind me on the pool table as I look up at him.

“That’s why you asked to be my assistant, isn’t it? So you could follow me around all day.” He chuckles, his rough voice growing deeper with each word.

“Answer me.”

“Y-yes.” I say, my heart pulsing.

“Yes, what?” He bites out impatiently.

“Yes sir.”

"Atta girl." He lets go of my neck, his hand gliding down to my exposed thigh, where my dress has been hiked up, almost exposing my damp center.

“Well, you have my full and undivided attention sweetheart. What are you gonna do with it?”

Feeling a surge of confidence, I lean forward, my fingers reaching for the noticeable bulge in his black jeans. His eyes darken as he closely observes my face, allowing me to explore him. I trace my fingers along his lengthy shaft, feeling the ridges beneath and imagining how incredible it would feel to have him inside me.

“I - I wanna see it.” I say, unbothered with how desperate I sound. I’ve imagined what it looks like since the day I met him and he bragged about how big he was. Most men would only brag if they felt the need to compensate for something, but I knew that was never the case with Negan.

And now that I’m feeling him, I know for sure he wasn’t lying. He’s big. Bigger than anything I’ve felt before.

He lets out a low chuckle, carefully removing my hand from his pants and placing it back on the pool table. He then holds my hands down on either side of me, leaning in close to my ear. "Such a desperate little slut, who would've guessed?" he whispers, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You had me fooled with your sweet innocent act, doll."

I wrap my legs tighter around him, needing to feel some sort of friction, even if it’s through his jeans.

"Fuck," he exhales as I begin to grind against him, the sensation making me bite down on my lower lip. His hands return to my thighs, guiding my movements as he gazes down between us. His eyes are fixated on the way our bodies connect through our clothes.

I watch his expression, getting off even more on how his brows knit together and his mouth hangs open slightly. He always looks good, but never as good as right now, with my wet pussy soaking his jeans.

“Negan, fuck, it feels so good.” I cry out, wrapping my hands around his shoulders to steady myself.

His mouth falls to my neck, as he groans with each of my movements, his sounds fueling me to ride him faster. I lift my ass off the table for a better angle and he grips my ass underneath my dress, driving me into him over and over.

“Shit… fuck darlin’, if you don’t stop, I’m- fuck, I don’t want to come yet.”

I pull back, leaning my hands back on the table and riding him slower. I can feel the heat radiating off my cheeks as I stare at him, both of us on the edge and ready to blow any second.

“Baby.. You’re so fucking perfect, have I ever told you that?”

I blush harder at his words, not expecting him to say something so sweet.

“I mean it, y/n. You have no idea how many nights I’ve fucked my fist thinking of you.”

I exhale, speechless as we stare at each other and he rocks his hips into me, taking the lead this time.

His quick, rough thrusts cause my tit to fall out of my dress and his eyes lock on it instantly before he bites his lower lip.

"Fucking perfect." He shakes his head subtly before diving forward and taking it into his mouth, sucking gently on my hard nipple.

I cry out, knowing that’s all it will take to push me over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, Negan, I’m-“

I don’t finish my sentence before tears run down my cheeks, the feeling overwhelming me like no other orgasm I’ve had before. And this is just with his clothes on.

He gazes down at me, a hint of pride etched on his features as he rocks his hips into me.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Give it to me.”

I start to come down from the high, softly moaning before my lips find his neck and suck on his flesh. He groans in my ear and I know he’s holding back his own orgasm.

“Negan, stop holding back. I want to you to come.”

I pull back slightly, locking eyes with him and I can see his pained expression like he doesn’t want to blow in his pants like someone horny teenaged boy. Taking back control, I grind my hips against his shaft in a circular motion.

“Baby…” he whines.

“Please.. daddy.” I say sweetly, blinking up at him.

“Fuck.” He growls, dropping his forehead to mine as my hips work faster.

“I can’t hold it, sweetheart. Fuck, I -“

He buries his face in my neck, letting out the most animalistic groans I’ve ever heard a man make.

I firmly hold myself against him, feeling him pulse over and over. Knowing that his warm cum is filling his underwear makes me want to get on my knees and lick every last drop.

As if he read my mind, he stands back, unzipping his pants and keeping his gaze locked on me. “On your knees.”

“I-but, you already-“

“Do not make me have to ask twice.” He snaps impatiently.

I drop to my knees hesitantly, gazing up at him while waiting for his instructions. With a proud grin, he pulls his underwear down to his knees.

My eyes widen at the sight of his cock covered in his cum. Even soft, it’s insanely impressive and thick. I reach out to grab it but he knocks my hand away.

With his thumb, he pulls down my lower lip, tracing the pad of it over my tongue. “Open that pretty mouth and clean up the mess you made.”

Taking one last glance at his handsome face, I lean in and lick my tongue along his shaft, instantly moaning at the taste.

“Look at you.” He praises, gliding a hand through my hair. “Such a good girl.”

After a few moments, he pulls away, buckling himself back up. “Fuck.” He lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry.” He helps me to my feet, but immediately backs away again, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Oh, okay... I get it.” I laugh annoyed. “You’re sober now and coming to your senses?

“No, that’s not, fuck, that’s not it. I-“

“Don’t worry, I got it. I’ll see myself out.”

“Y/n…” He says, making no effort to move towards me, which just makes me want to leave the room that much faster.

How stupid was I to think he was actually into me? God, how embarrassing.

I fling the door open to leave when his large palm wraps around my arm, turning me to face him.

“Goddamn it, listen to me.”

“Fuck off, Negan. Next time you get drunk and horny, use one of your wives to get off, not me.”

I try to wiggle out of his grasp but his large frame presses me against the door.

“I wasn’t drunk, y/n. Fuck, I wasn’t even buzzed. I had one beer. And if I wanted to simply use you and get off I would have fucked that pretty pussy without clothes in the way.”

My cheeks heat under his serious gaze. “So why didn’t you?”

“Well, before you tried to run off, I was going to tell you that I’m fucking crazy about you. And have been since day one. Not sure how it wasn’t obvious, doll.”

“Then why did you apologize?”

He slides a hand over my jaw, cupping my face. “Because I didn’t want to tell you like this. I wanted our first kiss to be… hell, romantic.” He rolls his eyes playfully before his serious gaze returns.

“What about your wives?”

“Sweetheart. I haven’t touched any of them since I laid eyes on you.” His pleading hazel eyes bounce back and forth between yours.

“I-I don’t believe you.”

“Then I’ll prove it to you.” He picks me up, carrying me me over to the black leather couch in the middle of the lounge. “But first? We’re going to finish what we started.”

Tag list <3

@loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor

[sturnlsstuff]

MASK OFF | ghostface!matt x fem!reader

— warnings: smut with plot, dom!matt, sub!reader, knife kink, unprotected p in v, rough sex, kinda mean!matt, edging, cursing, crying, dirty talk, pet names, mention of murder, - english isn't my first language!!

part one | part two

~~~~~~

"n-no!" you cry out with a pout, when for the fourth time matt stops the movements of his fingers, pulling them out. your orgasm just out of reach again. he was not giving you the relief you so desperately needed, practically edging you, making you squirm under him, while he was watching you with a smirk. you knew you were screwed for tonight, but you wouldn't think he could be so cruel. "please!" you whine, giving him the best puppy eyes you got, but matt only let's out a sarcastic laugh, "now y're fuckin' beggin', huh? interesting"

"i didn't do anything, i swear!" you mewl, tears running down your cheeks from the frustration. matt kneels on the mattress between your legs, grabbing the knife that was laying beside you and holding your wet folds spread with his two fingers. he puts the handle of the knife inside your dripping hole, starting pulling it in and out with unholy speed, while you were gripping the sheets, moaning loudly, your walls clenching around the thing. "i told you to keep your pretty mouth shut, didn't i?" he watches how your pussy sucks in the handle of the knife, while the sharp part was slightly digging into his hand with each movement, but he didn't care right now. not when he was able to see you like this. "your folks are downstairs, remember?"

he just smirks when you put your hand over your mouth, legs trembling when you're closer to the edge again, but he slows down, making it all go away, "fuck!" you squeeze your eyes causing new tears to fall down. you could feel his painfully hard cock straining against your inner thigh. "i'm telling the truth, i didn't say anything! please just let me—"

you cut yourself off with a muffled scream, when he quickly throws the knife onto the mattress and instead slams into you, making sure you feel his dick deep. matt doesn't give you any time to adjust, pulling almost all the way out, before going back in and starting thrusting into you.

it wasn't a secret that matt was pissed off. really mad. since the meeting in the park, he called you three times already and all three times you picked up and let him inside your room, when your parents were gone. he would do his job and leave as always. you were starting to get sick of it, finding yourself being more amused by him with each day and less scared, what was stupid for matt whenever he thought about this. you also caught yourself often fantasizing about him without the mask, even had a wet dream about it earlier this day. you had no courage to ask him to take it off or even if he'd agree to it. though matt wasn't stupid and he noticed the little details, how you would slightly put your hand on his mask, but you wouldn't dare to take if off without his permission, which made him feel somehow proud that you listen to him.

so you spent the whole day trying to distract yourself from thinking about that dream and him in general. at some point your phone rang, you picked up immediately after seeing who's number it was and that's how it all.. started.

"hello?"

"you think you're so slick?" by his voice you could quickly say he was mad. he was actually completely pissed off, feeling betrayed. matt really liked you, craved you and would never want to hurt you even if sometimes... sometimes he wasn't really capable to control himself. "what?" your eyebrows frowned with confusion, while he continued, "y'wanna make me lose my shit? wanna be next?"

"what are you talkin' about?" you asked confused, hearing his low chuckle that makes goosebumps appear on your skin, "you really gonna act all stupid now?" there was a moment of silence as you thought what possibly you could've done, but your head was empty. meanwhile matt was frustrated, grabbing the bridge of his nose and trying to calm himself down, "-- make sure your window's open, i'll be there in 10."

"but my parents—" you started, but he was quick to cut you off, "i don't give a fuck." the call ended, leaving you feeling uneasy and confused, but either way you left your window open and locked your door, just in case if one of your parents would want to come in.

matt was in fact watching your every move, no matter what time of the day it was, he knew what you were doing. he'd watch you hanging out in the cafe with your friends, seeing you and your mom shopping, eating dinner in some fancy restaurant or studying in the library. so he really did know everything and sometimes he didn't necessarily like the things he saw. like yesterday he saw you talking to a cop. he wouldn't think much of it, even if it gave him anxiety, but then this morning a police car drove through his neighborhood, even though this had never happened before. so his assumption was that you just betrayed him. maybe you wanted to set a trap for him? he thought about it for half a day, trying to calm down, but in vain, the anxiety and a sense of betrayal mixed together, creating an explosive mix of emotions. so he was really fucking pissed off and his goal for tonight was to make sure you know how mad he actually was.

the wet, squelching sound coming from you was filling the room and making you heat with embarrassment, while he continues pounding into you really fast. matt grins feeling you squeezing him so tight, it was almost painful, "why'd you do that, huh? got bored of my dick? wanted to make me fuckin' angry?" he rasps, holding your hips when you can't stay still, desperately shaking your head but not being able to say anything, only moans and soft sobs leaving your lips at how good he was making you feel. "i- oh! i'm..." that's when he pulls out just as you were almost coming, causing more tears stream down your face. he flips you over, your face pressed into the pillow. while still holding your hips, he lifts them up and enters you again, immediately going with the same pace as before.

"you're too loud", he bites on his lip, holding back a groan when he feels you clenching around him. despite his anger, he loves watching you struggle while he continues thrusting into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with every move. matt's pride gets the better of him when he sees you like this, knowing that he's the one making you feel so good. there's no mercy from him tonight when he continues bottoming out inside of you on that fast pace. broken cries leaving you have him weak, getting him closer to the edge, "'m tryin' to understand... but i really can't-- fuckkkk, yeah, keep squeezin' me like that..."

the way he fucks you this time reminds you of the first time. you could literally feel the passion and fascination in every of his thrust, but there was also so much anger which made you shiver. you were trying to hold onto literally anything, gripping your sheets, pillows, even the headboard that was hitting your wall with each movement. you'll definitely have some explanation to do for your parents later.

matt watches how your ass bounce, while his cock continue slamming into you and that sight makes his hips stutter, a low moan leaving him when he fills you up with his cum. he slows down only for a second to ride out his high, making you whine in response, before pulling out and flipping you over again, just to see your hair sticking to your forehead and tears on your flushed cheeks. he looks at your hole leaking cum with fascination, his ego immediately boosted.

towering over you, propping himself on his hands on each side of your head, matt looks at you intensely, which makes you literally feel his gaze on you, so you open your eyes. his mask inches away from your face, making your breath hitch in your throat. you really wanted to see his face, know what he looks like and not only know his body from the waist down. you wanted to see all of him and he was able to notice that in your eyes.

he grabs you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks, "why'd you talk to that cop, huh?" the tone of his voice was low and rough, but dripping with passion. seeing you like this turned him on even more, while you still felt the desire to be satisfied, his release and your own arousal dripping down your inner thighs. "'n' don't gimme that bullshit again, 'bout not doin' anythin', cause i saw you, sweetheart."

"i swear..." you repeat again, shaking your head while he keeps his grip on your cheeks, making your words a bit muffled. "-- he started asking me questions, 'cause he found out about me and that guy you... you know..."

"killed?" matt tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes and trying to process your words. you nod weakly, while new tears runned down your face, he felt it against his skin. "i told him i don't know anything, that i only met with this guy once and nothing happened between us, that i didn't really know him..."

"and he believed you?" his tone was dripping with irony, making your heart skip a beat. "i forced myself to cry and everything, i pretended to be all sad about it and he left me alone, i promise he..."

"pretended to be sad, huh?" matt is quick to cut you off, focusing too much on one thing you said.

it wasn't a secret that you were a little bit insane, matt was aware of it since you'd let him into your room that one night. you also weren't really scared of him. well, maybe a little bit when he was mad, like for example now, but it was making you more horny than afraid, which only confirmed that you were almost as crazy as he was.

you didn't even liked that guy really, he was just a distraction from the fact you liked the hookups with the ghostface a little too much. you weren't able to get to know him, since matt was quick to move him out of the way. though you found yourself being careless to his death, since finding on his phone that he only wanted to use you anyway, just like matt said.

"yeah, i... uh, i mean, if i cared about him and his death, i wouldn't meet with you again—"

"and why was there a police car drivin' around my neighborhood, hm?" matt wanted to believe you, knowing that if you won't convince him of your innocence, then... well, things may go in a direction he doesn't want them to go. "it... it has to be a coincidence..." you swallow nervously, trying not to look away. it was the truth, you really didn't say anything, not really figuring out why. you could set him off fast, matt knew it too, but he just craved you so much, he couldn't bring himself to leave you alone.

"is it now?" he whispers into your ear, moving his tip along your dripping folds, before teasing you with stopping at you entrance, knowing how desperate and unsatisfied you still were. you whine in response, "do you think i'd just let you into my room, if it wasn't a... oh, shit—"

with one sudden movement he entered you again, starting moving with the same hard pace as before, which made you moan out loud. "c'mon, sweetheart, keep... keep talkin'... tell me more, make me believe you, yeah? fuckk, 'cause i wanna... i wanna believe you—" a low groan escapes his lips when you wrap your legs around his hips, making him go even deeper.

"i... didn't care about that guy anyway—" the sounds of you two rasping, the choked moans leaving you and skin slipping against each other filling the room, the wet sound coming from you now louder. "i lied for you, i could tell them everything about us, b-but i... oh!" matt speeds up, making your stomach drop over and over again, but you continue, "-- i... i lied for you even if i don't really know you either, i didn't even see your face..."

a hoarse, low laugh escapes matt, "oh, really now? you tryin' to make me feel bad f'you or somethin'?"

"what?! n-no! i just..."

"i don't think you understand what it means if i take that mask off." his thrusts started being more urgent and hard, immediately making you clench around him and finally getting the release you so desperately needed. matt curses under his breath, feeling how your sticky walls suck him in while you cry out of pleasure, desperately gripping the sheets to hold onto something. "shiiittt... here you go... making this pretty little mess on my cock..."

he doesn't change his pace at all causing you to whine and making it impossible for you to stay still. matt shifts, putting your legs over his shoulders, gripping your thighs tightly, this new angle allowing him to hit your g-spot more intensely. the overstimulation hurts so good, you can't keep your eyes open.

"y'really wanna see my face, huh?" he grunts softly at the feeling of you squeezing him so hard, "but that... changes everything for you... mmhm, oh fuck—"

this whole time matt was sure that he would never show you his identity, knowing that it would complicate things and if something went wrong between you two then... he would have to deal with it in his own crazy way, doing things that he wouldn't want to do to you. but there was something more inside him, a bit of insecurity about what you would say, whether you would actually like him or if you would just immediately kick him out the door and never speak to him again. and this mask hid his shyness, without it he felt so... exposed. yet a part of him wanted to see your reaction, wanted to know what will you do.

"are you sure?" he asks while still pounding into you, but you're so lost in pleasure, you don't even know what he's asking about. "'cause y'know, sweetheart... you won't be able to get rid of me completely, once i do this..."

hearing your quiet, weak "please", matt slows down just slightly and before he could overthink his decision, he grabs the bottom edge of the mask and pulls it off in one swift movement. and that's when you see him.

the moment your eyes meet, he freezes and stops moving inside of you, his fingers pressing into your thigh a little more like he was still trying to maintain control, even if his heart was pounding in his chest. you look at him with wide, aroused eyes, feeling your breath was taken away. he was so... handsome. beautiful. it seemed like you could say he was an angel and it wouldn't be the least bit dramatic.

you didn't know what to focus on, you were so overwhelmed by his beauty. his facial features, that sharp, defined jaw, the prominent cheekbones... but his very blue eyes were doing the main job here, his gaze was so intense, it made you feel small. and those pink lips that just looked so kissable.

now when he was finally without the ghostface mask, you were able to notice more details, like for example the silver chain on his neck, the earrings or how his messy brown hair looked so fluffy, making you want to run your hand through it.

and also the fact that you've already seen him before. now you remembered where you know his voice from. "matt?" you finally speak up quietly, almost hesitatingly, but he hears you and it's enough to make his breath hitch in his throat.

"you..." his voice cracks slightly, a small frown appearing between his eyebrows. clearing his throat, he continues, "you, uh.. remember?"

if you remember? how could you not? that one party a few weeks ago where a guy approached you halfway through. you remember that he was so... almost shy? you were talking like crazy while he was mostly just staring, but he introduced himself. matt. you remembered him because he had such nice tattoos, you couldn't stop staring at his arm.

"yeah, i.... of course i remember."

for him it was like a punch in the gut. he would never think that you remembered him from that party. he was hypnotized by you, just staring at you while you talked, which made him believe he made himself look like a fool in your eyes. this whole interaction was also short, because he quickly realized about his not so little problem he had in his pants, just from staring at you and listening to your voice. so he quickly left you alone, having been obsessed with you ever since.

so matt was just convinced that you thought of him as some weirdo, that you forgot about him as soon as he disappeared from your sight at that party. he was sure that when you'd see his face you would freak out, but you... you looked intrigued. he noticed something in your eyes that he couldn't necessarily name. maybe he just imagined it.

licking his lips, he puts your legs back on the mattress and pulls his black hoodie over his head, allowing you to see his tattoos. it really was him. "i didn't have the chance to tell you this then, but, uh..." you swallow a bit nervously, gently touching his arm, tracing the lines of his tattoos with your finger, unconsciously causing matt to lose his mind. "-- i really think they suit you."

that was it for matt.

letting out a low groan, he starts moving again, but this time slower, though still making sure you feel his dick deep. he now towers over you and after a moment of just eye contact, you feel his lips on yours, which stole a quiet, surprised whimper from you.

and for some reason he stayed over night this time. you were sure you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow, being too sore, but you didn't care, not being able to get enough of him. you wanted to learn his body by heart. somehow it felt right even if it shouldn't.

a/n: hope you guys like it!! this is kinda basically the "last" part, there won't be any other long part like this but i still wanna continue this au!! so if you have any requests or idk questions about ghostface!matt just write them in my inbox, i'd loooveee to continue with this story if y'all want me to. but i'd mostly make it short, maybe as oneshots or something like that. xoxo.

@certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420

[junethestudent]

Aespa Gangbang

» Aespa x Rival Idol F! Reader

[Minjeong and Jimin are G!P]

Word Count: 2.4K

Content Warning: Dubcon, G!P, degrading, and swearing.

A/N: Sorry for not including Ning's concept photo, I didn't like how it was organized all together. :/

As you awaken you can hear harsh ringing in your ears, your mind drawing a blank as you survey your surroundings. A deep ache rushes all throughout your body as you force yourself upward, head spinning from the all too sudden movement. Even though you’re on a bed you feel no comfort anywhere, your joints popping as you move.

“Aww.. she’s finally awake,” you hear a teasing voice call out from behind. You find yourself face to face with four women, women you knew all too well. 

“You were talking a lot of stuff on the internet, why not now?” Jimin circles around you as if you were her prey, her little plaything for tonight. It makes your heart drop down to your stomach.

The truth is, you knew why you were here. You never thought that they would respond after you had bashed them on the internet, dirtying their group name on an Instagram live. It honestly was for attention, you had never intended for anyone of them to actually respond. 

“Hopefully by the end of tonight you’ll come to find your place. Below us.” Jimin looks back at the other three, smirking as they rise up, all of them standing above you. They all seem to be asserting their dominance in some way - especially Jimin, mostly Jimin.

“She’s even cuter in person, even cuter than when she was talking shit on us,” Aeri drops down to your level, flipping her pastel pink hair back to observe you better. Jimin shoots an annoyed look at Aeri’s comment, but it only makes her giggle, her eyes still set on you. 

The numbness that was once spread throughout your body has now vanished, the feeling returning in your limbs as you back away from Aeri.

“I.. I’ll tell everyone about this! You can’t just do what you want with me,” the way you stutter over your words is doing nothing to help your case.

Aeri scoffs, ignoring your little outburst and forcing your body around, your back to her chest. “You just talk and talk.. and talk. Put a wrap on it, hm? Who would listen to you?” 

There was some truth in her words. Although you were a popular soloist you were nowhere near Aespa’s level. They all knew that, they knew they were the shit. 

You knew that too, so when Aeri forced your legs open, you only slightly struggled against her. There was no chance you were winning a fight with all four of them. 

Jimin is clearly enjoying how helpless you look, the corners of her mouth struggling to suppress a bitchy smile. She bends down, level with your thigh as she holds it to the side. 

“Come make yourself useful Ning.. someone else needs to hold her other thigh down so Jeongie can get it in there.” Aeri says it slowly, letting it sink into your mind. 

“Yeah if poor Jeongie can get it up,” Ning retorts back at Aeri, dropping down to keep your other leg pulled to the side. Minjeong looks embarrassed, she clearly was not on the level of sassiness the others were on. 

“Aww.. be nice to her. Y’know she’s insecure about that.” Aeri locks your arms around her own, her legs slipped under your own to keep you from moving around. 

Minjeong shuffles over, swallowing hard as she struggles to remove her cock from her skirt. She was so hard that a tent had formed in her skirt, her dick begging to be freed. She’s so hesitant to touch you, to even lift up your own skirt. 

“Fuck Jeongie.. hurry the hell up,” Jimin pushes her back hard, making Minjeong instantly pull your skirt up, her other hand slipping your soaked panties to the side.

Truthfully, this entire situation was getting you all hot and bothered. You hadn’t had time for previous hookups, not with your recent promotion schedule. Did you want to submit to them? No. Was your pussy speaking for you? Yeah.. 

“Damn.. her cunt is wet,” you can hear Aeri whisper into your ear, talking to no one in particular. Her little comments make you throb so damn bad. 

Minjeong has finally managed to free her cock, was a bit smaller but still actively growing.. a lot, with a few prominent veins. Not that you were observing or anything.. you were.

You watch as she struggles to touch her own cock, already feeling sensitive from the confines of her skirt. Eventually she holds her cock at the base, rubbing it in between your slit, collecting the slip on her tip. 

It makes her shutter, her body tensing as she finally slips it inside of you, soft moans escaping her lips. “Do you feel good Jeongie?” Aeri teases at her, fascinated with how much Minjeong is moaning. 

You on the other hand are desperately trying not to freak as she holds herself deep into you, her hips slowly but firmly bucking into you. You have the urge to moan in sync with Jeongie, but you are quickly cut off as Aeri holds your face, forcing you to kiss her deeply.

She tastes so good, smells so good. But at this angle it’s almost impossible to get in a full kiss, so you definitely look pitiful to her as you pull your neck back. 

“I think she likes me,” Aeri leans back, letting you rest on her chest, her boobs practically smothering your face. “She only wants attention because she’s a little whore.. doesn’t mean she likes you,” Ning sounds so irritated with the little attention she’s recieving. 

She fixes that herself though, letting go of your leg and scooting to your side, both hands on your face as she slips her tongue in your mouth, restricting your air as you both make out. 

They’re all over you, Minjeong pumping inside of you with no exact thrusting pattern, Aeri watching you from above as Ning basically french kisses you, and then there’s Jimin.. Jimin. 

Considering it was her idea she looks all but pleased with how Minjeong is allowed to hog your dripping pussy. She’s annoyed enough that when Minjeong starts flailing around, balls pulsing as she grows closer to blowing her load in you, she throws her back, Minjeong slamming into the ground.

“I don’t remember saying you all were allowed first pick.” She spits out, taking Minjeong’s place between your legs, a frown imminent on her face. 

“..Min what the fuck? You really wanna throw a tantrum right now?” Aeri slides out from under you, leaving Ning above your face, her first instinct being removing her own pants. 

Aeri rubs her forehead, walking behind Jimin to pull Minjeong up, her cock still hard and twitching as she whines into Aeri’s chest. Jimin ignores it, as she does most times she is any type of upset. 

Jimin is mad at them but she’s glaring at you, the one person she can take her anger out on. She whips her cock out, breaking the zipper on her skirt as she rips it off. Jimin gives you little to no time to prepare, jamming it inside of you, her tip hitting your cervix.

It makes you cringe, the sudden force against it is enough to make you cry out. Not that Jimin really cares about your feelings in any way. 

She just keeps pounding into you, your body flailing as she holds your hips, working her way as deep as possible inside of you.

Jimin had been your main focus for some minutes until you remembered Ning was right above you, playing with her wet folds as she watches your pained expression as Jimin ruins you. 

“You forget about me?” She stares down at you, her pants nowhere to be found as she pulls her panties to the side, lowering herself down onto your face. You were anything but ready as her cunt smothers you, her hips riding your face, thighs at the sides of your head. 

She tastes so yummy to you, your tongue swirling around her clit and folds, just tongue fucking the life out of her. You can hear Jimin arguing with Aeri as she continues to beat the fuck out of your pussy, her tip still kissing at your cervix. 

The sound is faint, though, as Ning has her thighs so hard against your head that you can feel pressure rising. She’s more than close to cumming as she begins bouncing up and down, practically riding your nose now. 

She moans one last time before she stops, her body still but her breath heavy as she cums on you, the wetness of it dripping down your face. “F-Fuck.. didn’t think she’d actually cooperate,” Ning stumbles through her words as she slips off of you, legs shaking uncontrollably.

Only now can you hear Aeri and Jimin’s argument clearly. “If Minjeong wasn’t such a pussy hog.. this wouldn’t be a problem,” you hadn’t noticed before but she seriously stopped thrusting just to argue.

Minjeong buries her face deep in Aeri’s breasts, her dick spewing out precum as Aeri gently jerks at it, teasing especially at the tip. “You can share Min.. go on Jeongie.” 

Minjeong sheepishly approaches you and Jimin, sliding herself under you, her legs spread out to match yours. “Double penetration? You better keep up Minjeong.” 

Double penetration? Absolutely not. You would accept most of their abuse and torment but not double penetration.. there was no way your hole was fitting two cocks at the same time. 

“No fucking way! You’re not doing that..” you kick back at Jimin, your leg missing her by an inch. She scowls at you, both hands pushing your thighs back. 

“How about you shut your little mouth and spread those pretty legs for us, yeah? Be a good girl?” She gives your pussy a little smack, spreading your folds so Minjeong can push her dick inside of you. 

You can feel your opening start to hurt as Minjeong’s cock head pushes into you, your pussy stretching as both cocks move inside of you at different speeds. 

Jimin’s pace is firm and rough, each thrust carefully calculated, as if she were making sure you hurt just a bit. Minjeong on the other hand was just thrusting erratically with no pace in particular. Regardless, your back aches so much with how they keep abusing your little pussy, both cocks working to break you. 

“Damn.. poor thing. You’re not gonna join Aeri?” Ning says as she watches from afar, satisfied with her small fix of you. As soon as those meatheads finished fooling around she’d scavenge you for seconds. 

“I’m waiting, let them fight. I’ll have her to myself eventually.” She smiles as she watches them pound the everloving life out of you. Like Ning, she preferred to wait for you and let the others be foolish. 

Jimin and Jeongie are paying no attention to the girls’ conversation, more focused on blowing their loads deep inside of your cunny. You can tell Jimin’s close, her eyes zeroed in on her cock moving in and out of your pussy. 

She doubles down, sandwiching you in between the two as she shudders, her balls emptying every drop of cum deep into you, shoulders flexed and eyes rolled all the way back. Minjeong bursts a few seconds late of Jimin, her load shooting way stronger to the point you can feel the pressure for a second. 

“Cumming.. I came..” throughout the entire encounter those were the only words you ever heard from Jeongie. She was such a skittish little baby.. 

Pulling out, Jimin wipes the remains of her cum on your thigh, standing up to take a breath, her eyes down on you. “And I bet she’ll still be taking more dick by the time I’ve returned.” Jimin sounds so grumpy as she speaks - she clearly has no intention of letting your words go. 

“And then there was one.. oh and you Ning.” Aeri jumps up, swaying straight towards you. She was an angel to look at, her curvy body and big boobs mesmerizing you. 

She guides you to her, leaving the now sleeping Jeongie passed out on the floor, cum dripping onto her tummy. “You already know what’s coming, spread it open honey.” She coos so sweetly into your ear. God.. you just wanted to do everything she said. She was a sweet talker.

“Good girl..” she speaks so highly of you as you open your legs, your soaked pussy still twitching from its prior treatment. She teases your clit with one finger, rubbing it back and forth as her other hand collects Jeongie and Jimin’s dripping semen. 

“They filled you all up didn’t they? Makes me want a dick too,” Aeri murmurs into your ear, finger pressed down on your clit, trying to draw a reaction from you. 

Fuck it felt good, that fuzzy feeling you get before you cum returning. Your pussy is all achey, craving friction within your walls. Aeri knows that, two of her fingers slipping inside, curving upward and making you jolt back into her. 

“Oh? Did that just feel so good, hm? Did you like that baby?” Aeri teases, planting soft kisses on your neck as she works her fingers into your cunt. “Are you being such a good girl for me?” 

You nod, not giving a damn if Ning or Jeongie or even Jimin is watching. You want Aeri’s praise, her attention and single finger she’s willing to use on you. Aeri gives you just that, using two fingers to pull at your clit and two fingers to pump into your sensitive hole. 

It makes you squirm, body rocking onto her as you grow closer to orgasming, your clit all puffy and swollen from her little acts of torture. 

“You don’t have to be so reserved.. be a good girl and cum for me.” Aeri removes her fingers from your hole, focusing mainly on your clit as she aggressively rubs it. Each movement makes you moan out, arms clenched by your sides. 

You’re so close and you know it, she knows it. You’re throbbing, body sweaty as she speeds up her finger, rubbing so fast and making you clench, ready for it.

That familiar warmth washes over you, heart racing and breathing labored as you orgasm, your body all fuzzy as the feeling fades just as quickly as it came. Aeri holds you close, letting you breathe for a moment. 

“I guess it’s a good thing you talked all that ish.” 

[curtins]

SOLDIER, POET, KING — toji, suguru, satoru minors dni!

prologue. → medieval...bardcore...need i say more? thou art going back to middle earth with this one folks 😁

pairing. warrior!toji fushiguro x afab!reader / court advisor!suguru geto x afab!reader / emperor!gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. toji takes thee against a tree, geto's a munch, gojo's just kinda needy. doing it outdoors, getting eaten good on a lot of cushions, giving a massage?

word count. 4.5k song inspiration. soldier, poet, king — the oh hellos

a/n. listened to the bardcore cover of shakira's hips dont lie while writing. toji's is short tho idk why dont @ me

mp3. he will tear your city down (soldier) / he will slay you with his tongue (poet) / smeared with oil like david's boy (king)

TOJI FUSHIGURO — there will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword.

you're not sure what initially possessed you to follow him into the dense woods outside the encampment, but you sure as hell don't regret it now, not with the rough bark of the tree pressed against your back, grounding you as one of toji's large hands find their home on the back of your neck. the light pressure has you entirely dizzy, but that could also be attributed to the rough drag of his thick cock against your inner walls, slam!

over and over, at a giddying pace that sends shivers down your spine, and stars dancing across your eyes. the scent of pine, earth, and your own dripping arousal fills the air, and you groan as you taste the saltiness of the warrior's skin and the sweetness of his tongue, stained from the ginger confections that soldiers usually shared around the camp to invigorate them through the long nights.

his lips are demanding, fiery even as they push harder against your own, and you shudder as you feel the scrape of a thin scar against your cheek as the world fades away.

the only sound being your quivering breath, and the filthy smack! of his pelvis against your legs, which have been unceremoniously spread against the tree, riding your skirts up and if toji were to step away, and leave you there, all would see the silver, glassy sheen that dripped from your puffy folds.

but you pull him closer, wrapping your own shaking arms around his broad shoulders, as you mewl for him to keep going.

"there! ah! it's so - so deep, toji!" you try to contain your voice to a whisper, desparately praying that his comrades nearby aren't alerted to the lewd sounds erupting from the two of you.

but he looks merely pleased, dangerous like this, and his green eyes are hazed over with lust, the feeling of your tight cunt felling such a powerful and feared commander, "yeah, shit - deeper then?"

and he's angling himself closer to you, so his fat, bulbous tip must be kissing your most sensitive spot, the rough, spongy patch that makes you squeal and sigh, and cry out as you thread your fingers through his choppy dark hair.

"hope you can keep up, fuck!" and toji fushiguro's eyes are gleaming, "i can go till dawn."

didn't the sun set not a mere hour ago?

SUGURU GETO— there will come a poet who's weapon is his word

suguru geto's name is woven into every conversation at court, from the grand feasts to the courtyards where soldiers train. his silver tongue is one of legend, so sharp that it can cut through the thickest of political games, twisting even the most steadfast men and women into submission.

it had been hard not to ignore the sheer gravity of his presence, tall with dark eyes like pools of liquid twilight, and raven hair that's fallen haphazardly out of his topknot as he had led you into his chambers, "i know you've been listening to the rumours, people say many things about me," and his pink lips curl up, "but none can truly capture the beauty of my work."

your tone is breathy under his touch, "and what exactly is your work, geto?"

he's laid you back against the plush cushions of the divan, where tapestries (worth a king's ransom) hang over the walls, and his lips are now ghosting over your neck, "call me suguru," and there he presses soft, shallow kisses, "the court is full of pawns, but it is my job to make them kings."

it's hard not to tremble when his lips are travelling further down, scattering marks over your collarbones, "and me?"

his eyes are now locked with yours, and the world around you seems to slow, "you, an esteemed lady of the court? i could make you a queen."

you can smell the faint scent of sandalwood mingling with the scent of your own heady ache, and it makes your heart race. his lips are teasing, gentle and intoxicating like a fine wine that leaves you craving more, as you let your hands travel under his dark robes and over smooth skin.

gradually, his kisses travel down, moving from your collarbone to the shadow between your breasts, courtesy of his hands making quick work of your gown, then trailing along your stomach, each kiss igniting a trail of warmth that leaves a hot syrup pooling between your legs.

"hngh - lower, suguru! keep going!" and you angle yourself so your legs are spread wide and he can slot his broad frame right between them, right where you need him.

but he is not one to be direct, ever, and he gives you a teasing smile as he ghosts his fingers across silk-sodden undergarments, "lower?" and now he's pressing the pads of his fingers across the fabric, leaving lightning shocks in their wake, "lower, like here?"

and his fingers have found home, drawing figure-eights over your throbbing bud as you arch your back up, "yes, fuck, right there!"

you're given not a second or more to breathe, or choose your next course of action before suguru geto is tearing the offending garments off, and away, tossing them far from the divan as you gape incredulously.

silvertongue. the mere epithet does not do justice to how his mouth is laving hot kisses at your core, where the tip of his tongue is prodding at your fluttering entrance, and up over your puffy clit, before hollowing out his cheeks to suck.

GOJO SATORU — there will come a ruler who's brow is laid with thorn

the throne room is vast like a frost-kissed sky, and it stretches beyond what the human eye can comprehend. and the floor beneath your silk slippers is a pale marble sheen, icy and smooth as each step of yours echoes softly, swallowed by the immense space around you, as if the room is holding its breath.

there's a slight smirk curling at the corners of the emperor's lips, his pale hair falling softly around his face like the cool winds of winter that he commands — as he lounges back on the throne carved from white stone that is so pure, it gleams like ice.

"ah, i was wondering when you would come," and his voice is smooth and low, like the calm before a storm that leaves the earth ravaged, "my sweet courtesan."

"it seems my lord missed me?" now you're on the steps of the throne, and you know that you are the only one, save for the emperor himself, who can make it this far without being blown to pieces or ripped apart by the winds.

you know that he favours you, keeps you as a prize above all others, summons you at the most arbitrary of times to please him, as he does to you.

it is a fearful thought, that gojo satoru would defy the laws of gods and elders to claim you as a partner - one who would sit the throne alongside him as an equal, perhaps one day, but not yet.

the realm need not pay the price in blood for that.

your fingers dip into the bowl of warm oil, the scent of live and rosemary filling the air with an earthy, calming aroma as gojo shrugs the heavy indigo robes off his thick shoulders. the oil is cool at first, but it warms on his skin, gliding effortlessly over gojo's flesh. and you press gently at first, the oil easing against his skin, leaving a faint sheen as you work through the tight knots along his neck.

you hear a soft groan escape his lips, deep and resonant, as your fingers work into the knots of his muscles.

"i must be the luckiest man in the empire," he teases, and his voice is low and playful, as he runs his tongue over his lips leaving a gloss over his petal-pink mouth that you want to capture with your own, "i fear i'm becoming too accustomed to your...delicate, mmph! ministrations."

you snort, digging the heel of your hand harder into the muscle, and another moan escapes him, deeper this time, and it ignites something primal within you.

as your hands travel lower, you find yourself leaning closer, so your mouth ghosts over the shell of his ear, radiating red and hot.

gojo glances back at you, and you can see that the ice-blue of his eyes has become glazed over with desire, "if you keep this up, i might forget that i'm supposed to be in control here."

you indulge yourself, running your hands now over the front of his chest, feeling the ba-dump! underneath his pectoral muscles as you glide your fingers across him, "just wait, my lord, i can be quite persuasive when the mood strikes," you flick a pink nipple, and watch as he shifts, "perhaps, we might even shift control."

before you know it, he closes the space between you, with a soft laugh, and your lips meet his, soft and tentative at first — deepening as he pulls you onto his lap, and you gasp as you feel the thick bulge underneath the woven fabric, skirting your hips against it for the most delicious friction.

still, the oil slicks your hands as you run them over as much skin that you can find, and it's messy, full of fervour, as he runs his hands now up your robes, and prods a slender finger right past your gaping, quivering entrance, the ring of muscle allowing him in easily, such was your own want.

"now this," he whispers, the slighest whimper falling through his voice, against your lips, "- is how a true emperor enjoys his courtesan."

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

SOOO...you got me all needy and pent up with those two massive guys (God I need them so bad, let me feel small into your arms immediately pls and thank you) and then you dropped this:

He cradles you in his arms as he shifts. Releasing you once you’re flat beneath him on the sofa, “They’ll never know what it’s like to feel your sweet cunt come around their cock, though.” He says as he lifts your legs, sliding off your soaked panties before spreading you open. 

And made me definitely melt... 🫠

Not fair, my friend, you're lucky enough to be still loved by this slut right here though ❤️

Cargo

(joel x f!reader, din x f!reader, frankie x f!reader) | wc: 4.9k | other fics | Ao3

summary: smuggler!joel finds you and brings you to his partner in crime, with a side of gratuitous smut and a special guest along the way (full spoiler summary under the warnings/tags) 

note: this is for my lovely @auterdelabre, and it was inspired by the line you wrote when i joked about joel using “cargo” as a pet name (and a couple other things i had to mix in there) 

extra note: i hope this can bring a lil distraction in light of the heavy reality of today, fuck fascists – just don’t fuck them

warnings/tags: mdni explicit, smut, smuggler!joel, dubcon, oral, piv, degradation, ‘whore’ and one (1) ‘slut’, truly pwp - like the plot is just p, pls let me know if i missed anything important, weds warnings: doin’ it/fillin’ it up unprotected with no consequences bc it’s fiction and in the words of Wu-Tang Clan’s Ol’ Dirty Bastard in Shimmy Shimmy Ya - Ooooh, Baby, I like it raw; f!reader is able-bodied–this time this bish has hair that joel can worm his fingers into, no y/n, likely many mistakes bc i yam who i yam 

FULL SPOILER SUMMARY: crackfic crossover: star wars smuggler!joel finds you and y’all fuck, he brings you to his partner dark!din and y’all fuck, but surprise! smuggler!joel and dark!din were your co-stars for your independent porn. your bf, Frankie (who played the Mandalorian), is just so turned on watching you edit the video that…you guessed it! y’all fuck) 

The clear water rushes downstream, rippling around your legs as you step toward the bank and the soft grass. The sunlight filtering through the forest canopy makes the surface of the stream sparkle like glitter. But, you. You are the star of the scene. 

You glow like you’re a creature drawn from the sun and the soil, from the woods and the water. Crystal-clear droplets of water race along your skin, rolling over your curves and dripping back into the current to flow down, down, down to another body of water. 

You appear meditative, attuned to nature's tranquility, disregarding the universe's relentlessly unjust chaos. The ugliness and the violence. The balance. The dark. 

Joel lurks in the trees, waiting to make his presence known. Holding out for an opportunity to strike. He creeps out of the treeline with deft precision, like a shadow. You’re only partially dressed, still bent over your bag, searching for something when he gets close.  

“Don’t think you’ll need to worry about that anymore.” 

He’s not loud, but his gruff voice still disturbs the serenity. A jarring interruption to the leaves rustling in the breeze and the birdsongs echoing above. You take one long breath before you look him in the eye. Dropping your bag, you raise your hands in surrender. 

You have nothing. No weapons, no defense, no chance of getting far if he’s tracked you down already. “How did you find me?” You square your shoulders, standing your ground despite your disadvantaged position. 

“It’s my job,” he replies simply. 

He circles around you slowly, appraising you, eyes roaming over your exposed skin. Your tight shorts and thin undershirt don’t leave much for him to imagine, but you refuse to shrink or hide. You assess him yourself, and realization spreads across your face. You mutter his name aloud. Joel. 

He pauses just behind you and hooks a finger under the thin strap along your shoulder, teasing down the skin before snapping it like a rubber band. You stifle a wince. Just because he has you alone and barely dressed in the wilderness doesn’t mean you intend to give easily. You keep your chin raised in a proudly defiant stance. 

Joel chuckles dangerously at you, stepping closer. He rests his large palms atop your shoulders. It would be a sweet portrait of the two of you if it weren’t for the reality of the circumstance. Instead, his body is oppressive, so broad compared to you that it’s like you’re caged in, locked in a gravitational pull towards him, despite being in the open air. 

Your distaste for his presence has your body rigid and tense. You’re holding your breath as he leers at your body over your shoulder. His fingers dig into the flesh over the ridge of your clavicle like the claws of a predator ready to fly you away or tear you apart. 

“Are you going to come along willingly now?” he asks. The bass of his voice sends a shiver down your spine despite his furnace of a chest radiating into your back. The question hangs ominously between you. The or left unsaid. 

You swallow slowly, muttering an agreement and turning so you’re face to face. Your eyes dart across his features, and it’s strangely intimate. Something heavy in the closeness of your mouths, the shared breaths you take. His humanity is so apparent. You could reach out to trace every line of his face, but his stoic expression morphs into something sinister.

“That’s too bad,” he tuts, disappointed, “I was hoping you’d put up a fight.” 

You scowl, shifting your weight to lean away from him. He laughs harshly at your response. It’s a grating, barking sound, baring his teeth. 

You’re still thinking about what he was hoping for as he binds your wrists together, but he’s not revealing anything else. He grabs your upper arm and begins leading you toward the dense trees. You stumble, adjusting to his pace and trying to find your stride. 

“Where are you taking me?” you complain, trying to jerk your arm out of his grip, but he’s latched on tight. He’s unfazed by your attempt to break away from him as if it’s a natural part of his day-to-day to wrestle with an unwilling companion. 

It’s an exertion to keep up with him; he moves with purpose and little regard for you. Unaware of the small branches and shoots of new growth in the forest whip at your face, arms, and ankles. Uncaring that they obstruct your vision as you let him lead. 

You take his strength, size, and foul-tempered look apparent from his profile. You follow half a step behind, visibly less enthused about his single-minded pursuit. 

“Not far.” He’s blunt. Unhelpful. Answering you without a glance in your direction. 

“What do you want with me?”

“That’s not my decision,” he shrugs as if he isn’t talking about what happens to your life. Not wasting a word to ease your panic. 

“Who sent you?” Fear cracks through your voice. Ugly and raw. 

“Don’t know.” 

He’s so short with you. Brutish and rushed. Trudging along indifferent to your world crashing down. 

“You don’t know?” There’s an edge to your tone, frustration apparent. Joel shoots you a scathing look. He has a handsome face, but his dark eyes show no kindness. 

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” He turns away, looking forward as you make your way along. 

He moves confidently, like a force of nature. Twigs snap under his boots as he creates his path without regard for the destruction. 

“Then what’s in it for you? Why not just let me go?” You press sulkily. 

“I get paid for delivering you, not making decisions, sweet thing.” 

His response is gross and detached. Sweet thing. The pet name drips with sarcasm. You’re just an object. You scoff at him. 

“You’re despicable,” you cut under your breath as you weave through the underbrush. Disgust warps your features as you make your way along.

“Watch it,” Joel snaps. A low tolerance threshold. Fitting for a surly smuggler. 

“It’s true,” you snap right back. He doesn’t take it lightly, stopping and yanking you around roughly so you’re facing him again. 

“You’re heartless,” you jab, “scum. You don’t care about anything but your own profit.” 

Fed up, he backs you into the nearest tree. The bark digs into your shoulder blades. His hand grips your throat menacingly. His face is so close to yours. The deep line between his brows, the depth of his dark eyes, and his plush lower lips are all you can see. 

“Keep it up,” he goads. His fingers are merely a threat, resting along your arteries. Tempting you to talk back. “We both know you aren’t innocent,” he adds. 

You snarl at that, arguing that he doesn’t know the first thing about you, but he only grins darkly. 

Joel enjoys the way you detest him. He also enjoys the sight of you pinned under his hand. The way it only takes one to have you helplessly trapped. You’re still muttering insults at him, but he’s ignoring your words. He’s too interested in the arch in your spine tilting you towards him. The rising and falling as your breath is shallow and quick. 

Your thin top is still damp from your dip in the water, and from his point of view, it’s a scene that deserves to be photographed. You seem so delicate in contrast to him. His wide palm covering your throat, his vascular forearm so masculine against your supple skin. You look at him through your lashes, your eyes narrow and scornful, but his eyes trail down as your voice trails off. 

Joel has a perfect view of your hard nipples under the thin material of your shirt. The fabric clings to you like you’re in a wet t-shirt contest, and the longer he stares, the more he starts to lose his sense of urgency in taking you anywhere.

“What?” you interrupt his ogling, forcing your features into a disapproving glower to overcompensate for the breathlessness. 

He’s amused by your contempt and disobedience. He can tell there’s a struggle forming beneath the surface. The twitch between your brows where they threaten to saddle in pleasure if he applies the right pressure. The lust flickering behind your eyes. The disdain tugging at the corners of your frown only makes his blood run hotter. 

“You think you’re better than me,” His voice drops, sinfully low. You stare blankly, not arguing. “You think you’re special,” he continues cruelly. 

“You aren’t.” His fingers squeeze along just the sides of your neck; playing god with you, he restricts the blood pumping through your arteries. “No, sweet thing, you’re just another runaway whore with a bad attitude. That sure as hell doesn’t make you special.”

“I’m not a whore.” You spit his words back in his face. 

“No?” He mocks, tilting his head and dragging his eyes over your frame. His lecherous gaze highlights your compromising position. You’re on display for him, at his mercy, alone. It all comes into focus as your throat runs dry. “Could’ve fooled me.” He lifts the pressure off your neck, and the blood rushes to your head. 

Your gasp switches into a tight frown. His cocky smirk only widens. 

“Argue all you want, but your body doesn’t lie,” he coos arrogantly. 

“Can feel your pulse beating faster,” his fingers massage deliberately at your neck. You steel your breathing, eyes searching for something on his face to focus on. Something to ground you. But he leans in close, his breath hot along your ear. “So desperate,” he inhales deeply like he’s cataloging your scent, “just for me?” 

His other hand traces the angle of your jaw. 

“Maybe that’s just a human response to being pinned to a tree in the middle of nowhere by a smuggler,” you hiss. 

“Maybe.” He releases you, and you stagger forward at the sudden loss of support. Losing your balance and unable to steady yourself with your hands bound, you’re toppling forward to your knees as Joel half catches you—stopping you from landing with your face in the dirt. 

He shakes his head at you in disbelief. Every time you move, you pose just to tempt him. Here you are on your knees, glowing in the soft light as you tilt your face up at him. The fear that flitters over your face twists into something else. Something that makes you both pause. 

Joel moves first, resting a hand on your cheek. Reflexively, your lips part, and he can’t stop slipping his thumb into your mouth. You try to recalibrate, reversing the involuntary responses, but he’s already seen them. The way your breath hitched and the way your eyes darkened. 

He raises a brow slightly, entertained by how easy it is to read the signs. “It’s too late to hide it.” He pulls his thumb back, dragging it slowly over your bottom lip and down to your chin, leaving a trail of saliva that catches the light and glistens. “You think I can’t see how bad you want it?” 

You shake your head lightly in defiance, murmuring that he’s wrong and dropping your gaze. You’re sat at eye level with his belt and his one hand with the thumb hooked on a belt loop. You study every ridge of his hand, the scars along his knuckles, the sun-tanned brown skin. 

The bulge highlighted by his fitted jeans catches your attention, and you look back up to meet his eyes.  

Joel slips his hand past your face, fingers weaving into your hair, cupping the back of your head. He doesn’t add much pressure, and you don’t have to lean far to rest your cheek along the worn denim on his upper thigh. 

“Yeah,” he growls above you, “take it out.” 

You move hurriedly, dissolving your denial. It’s easy work to unbuckle his belt and pop open the button of his jeans, even with your wrists bound. You wet your lips unconsciously as you tug the band of his boxers down until his cock springs free. Only half-hard, it hangs imposing and proud. So close to your face, you can see the tiniest twitch as he responds to your warm breath fanning over his skin. 

“Get to it,” he orders. 

You blink up at him, resistance fading on the tip of your tongue. “Or get up so we can get a move on; doesn’t matter to me.” he challenges. You curl your fingers around the base of his shaft. It’s smooth and hot under your fingertips. Experimentally, you run your tongue along the underside. His fingers tighten their grip in your hair. 

You open wide, laying your tongue out flat, and he guides you. Joel’s eyes are glued to your mouth as he slides his cock past your lips. You stare back, studying every expression that crosses his face. His hard eyes don’t soften, but you could swear his blinking slows. The hint of a snarl deepens as he picks up the pace. 

Using you. Fucking your wet mouth until he’s pressing into the back of your throat, seeking more. 

Your eyes tear up, but he doesn’t stop, and you don’t resist. 

You quickly acclimate, working in rhythm, breathing, taking it all. When your eyelids flutter shut and a moan buzzes in your throat, Joel laughs darkly. “If you aren’t a whore,” he pauses to make a throaty noise that spears right to your core, “why do you take my cock down your throat just like one?” 

You choke at his assertion, and he pulls out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. 

“Not a very good one, I guess,” he says flatly, yet with a particularly pleased expression still faintly etched in the lines of his face. You wipe the spit coating your chin onto the back of your hands. 

He doesn’t reach for you again; instead, he takes his cock in his own hand. Impatient. Slick with your saliva, he strokes himself lewdly, grunting with pleasure as he flicks his wrist. 

“You’re deranged,” you mutter, voice hoarse. 

He doesn’t like that. He moves without a word, shoving you forward onto your elbows and knees. He holds you down against the soft grass with one hand as the other crudely pulls your shorts down. He runs his palm along the curve of your spine, over the contour of your ass. Both hands grip the back of your knees, readjusting you to his liking. 

Then he takes his time. 

Kneading your ass and thighs, landing one firm smack on that has you jolting forward, cheek pressing flat into the grass. The sharp sensation disorients you and leaves you sucking in air. 

Joel is undisturbed by your reactions. He takes both of his thumbs to spread you open wider, revealing the glossy sheen of your core. Your cunt drips, slick and swollen for him. 

“You think I’m so despicable,” his gravelly voice makes your mind fuzzy, “how come you’re so fuckin’ wet for me?” 

You can only manage to whine into the ground, pushing back towards him. “You don’t move,” he says harshly, one wide palm gripping your hip to hold you still. When the blunt head of his cock glides along your seam, you let out a broken moan. His fingers dig into your soft flesh in warning. 

He pauses, with his tip resting at the core of your throbbing pussy, to marvel at the visual before sinking into you. You gasp at the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely. You don’t have time to adjust before he’s pulling back and slamming into you again. He drags against every nerve inside of you, intensifying every motion. 

Joel isn’t gentle. He holds you firmly and uses your body, fucking into you with rough thrusts that make your thighs tremble. “Take it,” he grunts, pounding into you deeply until his hips meet your bare thighs. 

It’s all wet noises, heaving breathing, and skin slapping against skin. He watches the plush curves of your ass ripple as he drives into you harder and faster. The force of his movement pulls sharp, ragged cries from you as he fucks you so hard it pushes the air out of your lungs. 

“This is all you get.” Joel groans behind you, curling over you with his broad frame. Your bodies are sweaty where your naked skin slips against each other, and you writhe against him, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back as he fucks deeply into you. 

“You’re nothing to me,” he snarls, punctuated with his hips snapping into you brutally. “Just fuckin’ cargo.” 

“Shit,” he mutters, hips stuttering as you whimper. “You like that. Can feel you clenching around me,” he keeps talking. You’re mindless beneath him. A winded, drooling mess. “Ain’t even worth the hassle to deliver. Better use taking my cock,” he grunts, hips canting more erratically until he stills, pulsing inside of you with a throaty groan. 

You’re boneless, propped up on shaky knees as he pulls out and watches his come leak out of you for a moment. Then he’s crassly yanking your shorts up and ordering you to stand. You’re wobbly when you get back to your feet, and he huffs at you agitatedly. “Figure out how to walk, or I’ll drag your ass the rest of the way.” 

You can’t say how long it takes before you reach your destination. Everything was a blur as you clumsily trotted along, outpaced by Joel’s long stride. You’re breathing loudly through your mouth, a sheen of sweat between your shoulder blades and on your chest. Joel, apparently well-conditioned for the cardio, is frustratingly collected. He holds you tightly as he opens the door and pushes you inside. 

He jerks you towards a makeshift seat on a crate and raps a fist against the wall behind you. You can hear heavy footsteps. Joel ignores you as you try to read his expression. In seconds, the fully armored Mandalorian enters the room. 

He moves swiftly, barely glancing in your direction as Joel meets him on the far side of the room. 

“You were delayed,” the Mandalorian remarks in his modulated voice, his tone unrevealing. Joel steps in closer, muttering in a hushed tone that you can’t pick up. Something makes the Mandalorian laugh abrasively. His voice cracks through the air, fraught with a hazardous edge. 

You sit still, chest tight, as the helmet swivels towards you. Expressionless metal, he gives nothing away. Harsh lights beat down on your damp skin, making it hard to stay still. 

Joel is menacing, but this guy is impossible to read. The Mandalorian stalks towards you like a predator. 

Joel leaves the room, presumably off to shower, pulling his shirt over his head as he walks away. 

“Let’s see then,” the Mandalorian commands as he approaches. 

“See what?”

He pulls you to your feet, a gloved hand jerking your head side to side as he examines you. 

He steps forward, and you back away in synchronized steps until your heel hits something. The Mandalorian has you trapped between the cold wall and his cold metal armor. 

He removes the cuffs that bind your hands, tossing them aside, drawing a confused look from you. Instead, with one hand, he pins both your wrists above your head, causing your legs to spread instinctively. You squeeze your eyes shut as if you can control yourself without looking. 

“He said you’re not worth the fuel to return.” The Mandalorian gestures toward the direction Joel disappeared in with just a subtle tilt of his head. “That you’re a distraction and a whore.” 

“Then let me go.” 

“No.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t say more. He watches you. He is still and statuesque, whereas you’re so human. In the thick air, your breathing sounds too loud. Your heart beats too violently. Your limbs tremble too weakly. You give away so much, just with your body, your face, your eyes. 

“What do you want with me?” 

“I ask the questions,” he negates coolly. 

He squeezes your jaw tightly, “Is it your mouth?” His fingers squish the insides of your cheeks against your teeth. 

“No…it can’t be this needy cunt, hmm?” 

You’re shuddering, soft, and pliant. Warm, flesh and blood. You can’t form a response for him, even when he releases your jaw. Your gape at him with wide eyes and wet lips. 

Then, unceremoniously, he’s shoving his hand into your leggings. Wedging his thick fingers between your slippery, swollen folds. He growls like an animal beneath the helmet.

“You’re soaked,” he says. “Getting fucked full of Joel’s cock wasn’t enough?” He pulls his hand out, letting the band of your leggings snap against your belly. You stare back. Your body trembles lightly, arms straining in his grip. 

“Answer me,” he orders quietly. 

It’s soft. Your throat is still hoarse. “No.” 

Then he’s groping at you with an intensity that makes you writhe against the cool steel wall. 

He pinches at your strained nipples, rolling them between his fingers and making you bite your own lip to distract from the twisted pain and pleasure he’s unleashing on you. You can’t keep back all the noises, though, and he pauses when you moan and arch into his hand. 

“You’re not a whore,” he decides and he wedges his thigh between your legs. You roll along the ridged plate of armor, needily grinding against him. 

Without warning, the Mandalorian tears your top off of your body like a starved animal. Primal and desperate, but with precision. A tremor runs through you at the exposure and ferocity, making you gasp. 

“No. You like this too much to be whore.” He drops your hands and they fly to his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you across the room dropping you onto the bed. 

He pulls your leggings down, tossing them to the floor. You’re breathing so heavily, anticipating his next move. He pulls his cock out of his pants and you can’t take your eyes off of it. The only part of him exposed aside from his hand. The only glimpse of the true man beneath the metal. 

He taps his drooling head on your clit and you make a hungry sound, spreading your legs wide to make room for him. With a firm grip, he guides himself through your throbbing folds and into your hot, wet cunt. 

You groan as he meets the end of you. Your walls flutter around him as he splits you open, and then he starts to rock in and out and you keen. “Shut up,” he growls and covers your mouth with his palm. 

He saws into you relentlessly and you choke down your cries of pleasure. “Listen to how wet you are,” he mutters. “Such a filthy slut.” Your body jolts with every thrust, breasts bouncing and legs shaking as he keeps your mouth covered. 

“You think she can take us both?” 

You strain under the Mandalorian’s hand trying to turn your head and Joel moves in closer. 

“She’s just cargo,” Joel muses darkly, “she’ll take what we give.” 

…….

You pause the video on your laptop, freezing the scene just as it cuts back to your reaction to Joel. The fucked out smile in your eyes apparent, even with your mouth covered. 

You whip your head over to look at your boyfriend lounging next to you on the sofa. Your brow is furrowed critically, and he can see the wheels turning in your mind. His eyes, though, are clouded with lust. 

“Would’ve been better if we could’ve made a set that looked like the Razor Crest,” you grumble. You chew on your bottom lip as you consider the rest of your critique. 

“Do you think I should’ve kept in more of the dialogue between you and Joel? And the continuity with your gloves—do you really think it’s not that noticeable?” 

“Baby,” Frankie mutters in his thick, husky voice. “I don’t think anyone is worried about the plot or the fucking gloves.” 

You sigh deeply at that, returning to your video editing software with irritation. “You’re just saying that because you aren’t worried about those things,” you admonish him, continuing with your work. 

You play another clip of the scene that the two of you shot. Hearing your moaning and whimpering for him through the laptop speakers drives him fucking crazy. He’s pretty sure he could wear a banana suit and people would still happily pay to watch you get railed by him. 

“I’m not just saying that,” he argues, deciding to hold back on the banana comment. 

“Come here. It’s late, take a break.” He can practically hear your eyes roll as you ignore him and continue poring over details that only you would notice. He doesn’t have much patience left, already desperately turned on both from the video you made and from how sexy you look next to him. So focused. In your element. 

He lowers his voice into that rumbly, bassy register that he knows you can’t resist. “Are you going to make me repeat myself?” Your head swivels, and he gives you a dark glare with a gleam in his eye. He can see the feisty remark swirling on the tip of your tongue. “Come here,” he orders. 

You close the laptop, pushing it towards the middle of the coffee table. “Are you going to punish me?” you murmur, crawling onto his lap slowly. “I can get the helmet back out,” you joke with a playful smirk before you curl into him, pressing soft kisses along his warm neck. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, “I should punish you.” He grabs your hips, guiding you closer to where he wants you. You gasp at the same time as he groans when your core rubs against the long ridge of his erection. “You feel that?” he growls lowly. The friction and heat between you radiates up his spine and down to his toes. “You feel how hard you make me?” he asks. 

“Yes.” You grind against him. He feels huge through his soft sweats. You roll your hips, savoring the pressure of his hard cock teasing you. It sends sparks from your cunt to your nipples, lighting up your nerves. He slips one hand under the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing–his t-shirt– to palm your tits and pinch at your nipples as if he could read your mind or, rather, your body. 

“That’s how hard every jerkoff that watches us is gonna be.” 

His statement makes you giggle softly against his neck. “Yeah?” you ask breathily. 

“Yeah,” he confirms before capturing your lips with a hungry kiss that makes you moan into his mouth. You melt into each other on the sofa. Tongues sliding against each other, hips rocking against each other, and hearts beating against each other through your ribcages. 

He cradles you in his arms as he shifts. Releasing you once you’re flat beneath him on the sofa, “They’ll never know what it’s like to feel your sweet cunt come around their cock, though.” He says as he lifts your legs, sliding off your soaked panties before spreading you open. 

You can only hum in agreement, entranced by the sight of him pushing down his sweatpants. He’s lost in you. The desire in your eyes and the arousal shining on the folds of your core. You wrap your legs around him, hitching one knee up high to give him deeper access. 

“Please,” you groan. He teases you with the wide head of his cock, nudging at your clit as he coats himself in the fresh wave of slick flooding around him. 

“Please, what?” 

“Please, fuck me. Now.” 

A warm puff of air comes out of his nose. Amused with your impatience. But when he starts to feed himself into you slowly, it’s no longer funny. He’s possessed by the same urgency. Gripped by the plush heat of your cunt as you stretch around him. When he’s fully seated, hips flush to your pelvis, his cock throbs inside of you, and you dig your fingernails into the musculature of his shoulders. Silently demanding more, so he moves. 

He fucks into you with a fervor made of possession and pride. Filling you so deeply that it’s like he’s connected to your soul, slotted perfectly into the heart of your cunt. Every ridge of him designed to caress every nerve inside of you. But beyond fitting together physically, he knows exactly what you want. 

He snaps his hips harder. Faster. With a force that makes your eyelids heavy and your head bob limply as he drives into you with such strength that it makes you mindless with pleasure. He gives and gives. And you take and take. You cry out his name when he finds the perfect angle to launch you into a euphoric orgasm. It’s not long before he’s coming, too, stuffing you full and deep as your walls constrict and contract around him. 

Time feels fuzzy as you lay together. Sticky but satisfied. His arm and leg thrown over you weigh heavily as he relaxes. He could drift off like this, and he’s about to say so when he catches that look on your face. You just figured something out. 

“What are you plotting?” he asks in a sleepy voice. 

“I’ve got an idea for our next video.” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you still have those zip ties?” 

pls let me know if enjoyed or hated any of it <3

Dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

ty: to @gothcsz for reminding me that pwp is pwp when i spent days getting hung up on some unnecessary details, and to @magneticecstasy for an idea that didn’t make it in, but will not leave my brain now 

gen tags for some babes: 

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy

[wheneverfeasible]

Ruin Me (part 5)

wc: 4k || rating: E || story summary: Steve shows up on Eddie’s doorstep with an offer he can’t refuse || chapter summary: Eddie refuses to let Steve leave without some proper aftercare. And maybe not at all. || tags: omegaverse, alpha!Eddie Munson, omega!Steve Harrington, intersex omegas, explicit content (see ao3 for full tags) || posted in full on ao3

See bottom for commentary

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Previously…

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew that, even if he was interested in getting to know Steve more, there was no way that Steve would want anything more to do with Eddie after tonight. He had gotten what he wanted and Eddie…well, Eddie wasn’t stupid.

Sure, maybe his rants about forced conformity and biological slavery were enough to convince Steve he’d probably be safe enough with him, but Eddie knew the truth. What greater disappointment was there than having a Munson be the one to steal the precious golden boy’s virginity?

The super senior, drug dealing, trailer trash, poor excuse of an alpha Munson who had no hope for a future that didn’t include the bars of a cell or six feet underground.

Why would Steve ever want anything more to do with him after tonight?

As Eddie contemplated this depressing truth, Steve slipped into a small doze in his arms, though his purring never let up. A small smile curled at his plump lips, his face flushed and sweaty with their exertion, yet looking the most peaceful Eddie could ever recall it being. Content.

Steve looked content.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Munson,” he whispered to himself. He sighed then, holding on to Steve even tighter, a pleased sound leaving the omega’s lips even in his light slumber.

Eventually, Eddie’s knot deflated.

As Eddie slipped out of Steve, he could feel the flood of both their releases beginning to seep out of the other boy, which also caused Steve to whine as he came back to awareness.

“Shh, precious, it’s okay,” Eddie murmured, gently easing Steve onto his back as he pressed small kisses along Steve’s shoulder, neck, and jaw. “Just relax. You did so good for me, sweetness.”

Steve’s nose crinkled into something resembling distaste. “Sticky,” he complained a touch petulantly, and Eddie couldn’t help but lean in to brush over Steve’s frowning lips with his own.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He moved away briefly, grabbing the towel he’d discarded near the bed to gently begin wiping away the worst of their combined release. Steve whimpered a little at the rough feeling of the cloth against his sensitive bits, but Eddie tried to soothe him as best he could, pressing gentle kisses across Steve’s skin wherever he could reach.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, bringing a hand up to cover his face as Eddie cleaned him up, though he then grimaced and lifted his hand to frown at it as he realized his face was also sticky from Eddie unintentionally rubbing his slick over him earlier.

“We just did, sweetheart, but give me a few minutes and I’m sure we can go again,” Eddie grinned with a small tease, leaning in to press a kiss to Steve’s inner thigh where his bite mark was now a purple-red.

Steve lazily swatted at Eddie’s shoulder, though he couldn’t hide the amused twitch to his lips. That blush that Eddie was quickly becoming obsessed with was back on his cheeks, however, as Eddie continued to gently clean Steve up as well as he could.

“Think you can stand up, baby? I would love to keep you in the bed, but I think we both need an actual shower,” he grinned, sliding up Steve’s body to hover over him.

He leaned down to press a quick kiss to his lips, telling himself he was allowed these actions until Steve was out his door and this thing between them was over. “Plus, I think we well and truly ruined this bedding.”

Steve groaned, though his blush spread farther at the soft kiss, making no move to push Eddie away. “I think you fucked my legs into jelly.”

A bright, proud grin spread across Eddie’s lips, causing Steve to snort and roll his eyes. Where earlier it had been bitchy, however, now it just looked fond.

“I guess I’ll just have to hold you up then, darling,” he drawled, leaning in to bury his face in the crook of Steve’s neck and inhaling his sex-sweat scent. “I’m going to get the water started,” he murmured, feeling that pleased warmth in his chest when Steve’s fingers tangled in his hair once more, holding him close. “I’ll be right back, Stevie.”

Steve swallowed thickly, nodding as he seemed to only reluctantly release Eddie. He watched him with his big brown eyes as Eddie just as reluctantly slid from the bed to try to coax some warm water out of the blasted shower. It was easier in the summer to get warm water, of course, as the sun heated the water tank exactly when you didn’t want it to.

He hoped the storm didn’t leave them with only something frigid. As willing as he was to boil water on the stove, as he’d had to do before even before living with Wayne, he doubted Steve would be willing to wait for it.

Which was just another example of why this thing here was for tonight only. Steve no doubt never had to wait for the water to heat up in any form, never had to worry about not having enough hot water, and certainly had a shower larger than a chessboard.

(Okay, the last was an exaggeration, but it would be a tight fit getting the both of them into the shower.)

Luck seemed to be on his side, however, as the water thankfully began heating after a brief, terrifying moment, causing a small whoop to leave Eddie before he could stop it as he pumped his fist to himself.

He briefly hoped Steve hadn’t heard him over the sound of the rushing water and the storm outside, no matter the thinness of the trailer walls. He’d rather not remind the other boy what an absolute fucking nerd he was when he was still playing at being the suave alpha Steve obviously expected him to be.

Uncaring about his nude state, he all but swaggered back into his room with a proud grin on his face despite himself at his victory over the water tap, stopping only when he caught sight of Steve again.

Steve wasn’t quite fully sitting up, but he had propped himself up on an elbow, his other hand lightly touching the bruise covering his mating gland. There was a faraway look on his face, though his expression was otherwise blank to how he felt about recent events. Eddie watched him for a moment before clearing his throat, feeling oddly nervous.

He tried to remind himself that this was Harrington, but a part of him knew that Steve had stopped being the bogeyman he’d always made him out to be the moment Steve revealed why he needed Eddie’s help.

And everything else after that.

Steve jumped slightly as he was pulled from his thoughts, his hand dropping to the bed once more. He blinked up at Eddie before offering a self-conscious smile. “Um…if you give me a moment, I can get into the shower and out of your hair.”

Eddie tried not to let Steve’s words affect him. That’s what this whole thing was, after all. A quick fuck and then never interacting again. After all, Steve was set to graduate soon and Eddie…yeah. It was becoming more and more apparent that he was about to become a super super senior.

Again, the realization that the two of them came from two totally different worlds was just a little too hard to ignore.

But Eddie was, if nothing else, good at pretending.

“And have you driving out in this mess of a storm?” he snorted, tossing a hand towards his bedroom window where the rattle of rain hitting the window was still highly evident. “I think not, Harrington. Plus, you look bone tired, sweetness,” he pointed out, because that much was true. Though Steve was looking more aware and less doped up on pheromones and sex, he looked exhausted.

“I can take care of myself, Munson,” Steve huffed back, but he was obviously too exhausted to get truly indignant. Eddie just softly snorted again and shook his head as he walked over to the bed and, with another squawk from Steve, lifted him up into a princess carry. “Eddie!”

“Don’t worry, princess,” he grinned as Steve’s arms automatically looped around his neck. “I promise to take good care of you. Now let’s take advantage of the water while it’s still warm.”

Eddie ignored any further protests from Steve as he carefully carried him into the small bathroom, only allowing him to take to his feet again to get inside the shower stall. He stepped in right after, hands firm on Steve’s bruised hips so his wobbling legs didn’t send him crashing, and while it was definitely cramped, he at least had enough space to first wash Steve and then himself. If just barely.

Though he could do without the disparaging look that Steve was giving his combination shampoo/conditioner/body wash. Not everyone had fancy hair care routines, okay? Steve tactfully kept his mouth shut, however, which Eddie counted as a blessing.

Despite his earlier protests too, Eddie could see the way Steve’s eyes began drooping as he leaned against the shower wall as Eddie bathed them, humming in what was almost a purr again while Eddie scrubbed the rainwater and sweat from his hair.

There was no way Eddie could let the guy leave like this, that was for certain.

After carefully washing the both of them—and trying not to think about how Steve smelled like him now, because he wasn’t some possessive knothead for an omega who wasn’t even his—Eddie grabbed two more towels and wrapped one around his own waist before draping another over Steve’s shoulders.

“Sit on the toilet lid for a moment while I get the bedding changed, okay, Stevie?” he murmured quietly, gently running the towel material over Steve to help dry him before helping him sit on the seat. He knew their towels weren’t the softest material anymore, not in their age, but he’d grabbed the softest one he could find for Steve.

Steve blinked up at him, a light flush dusting his cheeks again, making Eddie want to bite them. Or kiss them. He wasn’t certain anymore. They were basically the same thing, really. He reached out to gently stroke Steve’s warm cheek when Steve just kept staring at him, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

“Okay?” he repeated, needing to make certain that Steve was okay to be left alone for a moment.

Steve’s throat bobbed as he audibly swallowed, reminding Eddie that he needed to get him some water to drink as well. Maybe something to eat too, if Steve was awake enough to eat something.

“Okay,” Steve murmured quietly, almost a whisper.

Without really intending to, Eddie leaned down and brushed his lips over Steve’s forehead before releasing him and stepping back to head for the laundry cupboard. He could swear he could feel Steve’s eyes drilling into him as he walked away, but he refrained from turning back to check.

He wasn’t looking forward to braving the laundromat with sex stained sheets (again), but if the storm didn’t let up soon, he had a feeling that was going to be a necessity.

Especially since his only other set of sheets he had to use right now were his old Star Wars ones which…yeah, really fucking sexy those ones. Hopefully Steve was still too out of it that he didn’t pay attention to that.

Not that he normally cared what the normies thought of him, but…

He tried not to think about why he was trying to impress Steve Harrington of all people.

Once he dried off best he could and had his bed remade, Eddie then scooped up Steve’s clothes and carried them with him to the bathroom so he could drape them over the shower’s wall to try to dry them somewhat. He paused though, taking in the sight of Steve squirming a little on the toilet seat. He opened his mouth to ask if Steve was all right when he smelled it: arousal.

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up under his damp fringe. “Really, Steve?”

Steve huffed up at Eddie, though his cheeks were bright pink. “It’s your fault,” he grumbled.

Eddie pressed his fingertips to his chest with a shocked expression. “My fault? I wasn’t even in the room!”

“No, but you said it. That I’d feel the ache until I was wet for you again.”

“I—” Eddie stared at Steve with wide eyes, this time with his cheeks flushing a soft pink. Yes, he had said that, but he hadn’t really expected that to actually arouse Steve.

He cleared his throat, grabbing his still wet hair to cover part of his face as an almost shy smile took over his expression at the thought of Steve actually getting aroused by the memory of him. Of possibly even wanting him again. Him, specifically.

“Well. Anything I can do for you, big boy?” he teased once he’d collected his composure again, moving his hair from his face but still twirling a finger around it to give Steve an exaggerated saucy wink.

Steve bit his bottom lip as he stared up at Eddie, rolling it between his teeth until it was pink and plump again, before letting his gaze travel over Eddie’s still very much nude form, minus the towel hanging low on his hips. And then, much to Eddie’s amazement, the scent of subtle arousal heightened.

Did Steve actually…find Eddie attractive? Like…for real? Not just in a ‘we are currently having sex and you’re good at it’ sort of way?

Before Eddie could properly process that, Steve let out a large sigh. “As much as I might like to see what else you can do tonight,” he huffed, which turned into a yawn, “I’m beat. I should really head home now.”

Snapping out of his shock, Eddie shook a finger at Steve. “Nah uh uh, big boy. You’re in no condition to drive right now. Besides, it’s still raining and your clothes are wet. You’re not going anywhere, Harrington.”

Steve gave Eddie that look again, like he didn’t quite know what to make of him, all big eyed and beguiled. A soft smirk slowly settled over his lips. “Yeah? This a kidnapping, Munson?”

Eddie could only grin in response, finally moving to fully set aside Steve’s clothes to dry as much as possible before moving to pull Steve to his feet. “Maybe it is, sweetheart. I did just defile you.”

Steve flashed Eddie a smug smile. “Yeah you did.”

He sounded exceptionally proud of that fact. But then, Eddie figured that if the alternative was being mated to an alpha twice your age who didn’t care about your pleasure and only wanted you barefoot and pupped up, that Steve probably was feeling a little proud of going against his parents’ wishes.

If anything, Eddie was a little in awe of Steve’s bravery to do what he did. He didn’t know Eddie. Sure, he could listen to his tabletop rants every day of the week, but he’d have no idea what Eddie was like behind closed doors when told to ruin him. And Steve had done so with the expectation of being hurt.

Just how shitty was Steve’s home life to take such a risk?

And then all higher brain function left Eddie for a moment as Steve did something he’d never done before: he scented him.

Sure, Eddie had more or less scented Steve earlier, nuzzling into his neck and drawing in the rich musk of Steve’s natural scent and the tang of sex, but Steve had no reason to do it now.

Yet, when Eddie carefully pulled Steve back to his feet, Steve had stepped immediately into his space, wrapped his arms around him, and buried his nose into Eddie’s neck over his mating gland.

Eddie tensed for a moment, though he forced himself to relax when Steve made a distressed sound, his scent souring slightly. Sliding his hand into Steve’s hair to cradle his head against him, his other hand sliding up the smooth pane of Steve’s back, Eddie thought he had to be dreaming when Steve let out a small chirp and began nosing at his scent again.

Right. Eddie was letting this go on for too long, too far. Steve was still in that post-orgasm bliss after losing his virginity; there was no way he actually wanted anything like this with a Munson. He’d be mortified if he were of more present mind.

Well. He wouldn’t be doing this in the first place if he was of more present mind.

“C’mon, omega,” Eddie murmured quietly, despite himself, bending his knees slightly to scoop Steve back up into his arms. Which then led to Steve wrapping his arms around Eddie again and nuzzling more against him, causing Eddie to thickly swallow.

He tried to remind himself that this was just biology at play. An alpha taking an omega’s virginity was no laughing matter, especially not knotting them. Their pheromones were wreaking havoc on their senses, telling them that there was more to this than there actually was.

It didn’t help that Steve smelled even more like Eddie now with his shampoo and everything. It was biological conditioning. For the both of them. It wasn’t real. By the next time they saw each other, this single night of passion would be nothing but a story to tell.

Which Eddie supposed he got to have that. This night wouldn’t be a secret because Steve needed his deflowering known. Everyone would know that Eddie “The Freak” Munson had taken precious Steve Harrington’s virginity and left every other alpha that came sniffing around with sloppy seconds.

He knew that there would be alphas who didn’t care about the concept of virginity. He certainly didn’t, not really, no matter the role he played tonight. One day Steve would no doubt find an alpha worthy of him, and then these nights would belong to them. And Steve…hell, maybe Steve would remember this night fondly, though he doubted it would be because it was Eddie.

No, it would just be because of the way Eddie had made him feel.

“You smell weird,” Steve said with a small pout. “Bring back your other scent, I love it. Did you know you smell like chocolate? But like…dark chocolate,” he said dreamily.

Eddie didn’t know if he should be offended or not, but it did work to take his mind off things he couldn’t change. “Are you telling me I smell bitter?” he huffed. “And aren’t omegas the ones supposed to smell like candy and stuff?”

“No, you jerk,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes as Eddie finally brought him back into the bedroom, losing both towels in the process but that hardly mattered at the moment. “You smell…well, okay, yeah, a little sweet, but also…smoky and earthy. Kind of like molasses. Or cardamom. And like…“ A roll of thunder interrupted him, but it just caused him to grin. “Like how it smells right after it rains.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie carefully deposited Steve on the bed before moving over to where he kept some of his omega specific drugs. “So you’re saying I smell bitter and soggy. Great, thanks, got it.”

“Asshole,” Steve said with something Eddie almost wanted to call affection in his tone, looking down at the sheets he was settled into. “That’s not what I—oh sick! Star Wars!” he said brightly, causing Eddie to whip around to stare at him, not that he noticed.

“I just got into these movies, but they’re kickass. A buddy of mine introduced me to them recently. And I thought I had a messed up family,” Steve teased with a small snort and a grin.

Steve Harrington knew about Star Wars? Did Eddie somehow find himself in the goddamn Twilight Zone or something? There was no way that super mega popular jock Steve Harrington actually appreciated a science fantasy movie series like Star Wars.

Then again…Steve had been defying expectations left and right today already. It might just be possible that Steve Harrington was a secret nerd after all.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, a small grin of his own overtaking his expression as he grabbed the necessary pill package and popped one out.

“Yeah, the teddy bear things are cute,” Steve grinned back, suppressing another yawn now that the excitement of the sheets was mellowing out.

Eddie needed only a moment to understand what Steve meant, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at Steve’s response. “Oh yeah, the Ewoks?” he clarified easily. There was no need to correct Steve or make him feel stupid about calling them teddy bears. They looked like teddy bears.

“I’m more of an Empire Strikes Back fan myself. The one with the ice planet, and Vader and Luke’s fight,” Eddie made his own clarification with a small shrug.

“Yeah, man, those lightsabers are awesome! Dustin and I are making a handshake with them,” Steve agreed with a small, fond smile. “Totally mind blown about him being his dad though.”

Shit. Steve really did know Star Wars. Though…who the fuck was Dustin???

Eddie swallowed back the possessive instincts of his inner alpha. It wasn’t like Steve was actually his or anything.

“Here, sweetheart,” he said, stepping back towards the bed to hold out the pill for Steve to take. “I’m gonna get you some water, then you need to take that since you’re not on birth control.” Eddie hesitated for a moment. “Which I can get for you, if you want. You wouldn’t be the first omega whose parents are assholes.”

Steve took the pill, though he looked up at Eddie with those wide eyes again, a small ‘o’ to his lips. He blinked and looked down at the pill in his hands, turning it between his fingers. “If my parents…well, I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford it after this,” he mumbled.

Oh.

Eddie paused as he experienced another paradigm shift about Steve Harrington.

He could make a quip. Could leeringly say that they could work something out, could give the pills a test run…but Steve looked a little too vulnerable in that moment, his shoulders hunching slightly, his eyes not meeting Eddie’s.

It was entirely possible he would think Eddie was serious, would demand Steve pay him back with his body, and he didn’t want that thought to pass through Steve’s head even for a second.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, reaching out to curl Steve’s damp hair over his ear. He was sorry he didn’t own a blowdryer, he would have loved drying Steve’s hair for him. Maybe he should buy one. “Consider tonight payment enough. It’s not every day I get to have such a pretty omega in my bed offering up their virginity,” he lightly teased with a small grin.

Steve blinked up at Eddie at that, that by now familiar light dusting of pink on his cheeks making its reappearance. Who knew Steve blushed so easily? He gently grazed the back of his knuckles over the heated skin, Steve’s eyelids fluttering at the gesture. God, he really was pretty though, wasn’t he?

“I’ll be back with a cup of water for that,” Eddie said, dropping his hand and clearing his throat. He gave a faint grimace. “I do have to warn you, too. It might not be entirely pleasant afterwards, and it could trigger your heat a little sooner or even delay it. I can get you some heat suppressants too, but it may not work on this upcoming one.”

“My parents at least let me have suppressants,” Steve mumbled, dropping his own gaze. “Or they did, at least. Didn’t want to risk their whore omega son losing control,” he muttered bitterly.

Eddie swallowed back a growl at the thought of Steve’s parents. Fuck traditionalist bigots.

Unthinkingly, Eddie dropped another kiss to Steve’s forehead and then he was all but escaping his room to get Steve a glass of water. Fucking tap water, nothing filtered properly because he lived in a fucking trailer and Steve…Steve was used to the nicer things in life.

Which wasn’t Eddie.

“Christ, Munson, if your old man could see you now,” he muttered to himself, picturing the Munson Doctrine just flying out the window, as he filled up a glass. Not even a proper glass at that, either, but one of those novelty promotional things Wayne had gotten at McDonald’s with the purple guy on the front.

Whatever. It wasn’t like he could impress Steve even if he tried.

next (tba)

Author commentary:

First off, if you saw above with the little parts numbers, the total count is now 6, meaning there’s just one more part after this! It’s gonna be short and sweet, but it will be the final part of Ruin Me…though not the end of playing in this universe. 😉

I wanted it to be really important for Eddie to handle the aftercare of their coupling, just as it was important to him to get verbal consent from Steve before he continued anything.

Also, I am a firm believer that Eddie does not take care of his hair properly and I will die on that hill. He for sure uses the same shit for his hair that he uses for his ass. But don’t worry, Steve will eventually break him of that habit. However, I wanted his lack of proper care to also emphasize how much he wishes to take care of Steve.

Despite this originally supposed to be a one-time thing between them, Eddie is already feeling the desire for more. Which he’s trying to blame on biology, but we all know the truth, don’t we? Silly Eddie.

Also, the Star Wars sheets lmao. It was a spur of the moment decision when I wrote those sheets in, and then I couldn’t resist. Especially because I thought it would give Eddie another moment to realize that there was more to Steve than he ever thought possible.

The sheets in question:

Also, I feel like Eddie’s favorite would be ESB. (Mine is a tie between ESB and ROTJ btw. Vader was my first crush and he still remains one to this day.) Which, speaking of, it was likewise important for me to give Eddie that moment of not correcting or judging Steve for not knowing something well. It’s a favorite detail of mine in their relationship from canon.

I don’t want to get too much into Steve’s thought processes here because it will be covered in the sequel/companion piece, but he’s definitely starting this whole thing believing Eddie got what he wanted from him, but he’s likewise realizing there’s more to Eddie than he realized too. He may or may not be developing pesky little feelings of his own. (He totally is. And not just because he got a good dicking.)

Also, the McDonald’s glasses in question, with the one Eddie grabbed being the Grimace one:

But by the gods, Eddie wants to impress Steve so badly. Wants to be a good option for an alpha. To the point of getting jealous of someone who, though he doesn’t know it yet, is a middle school nerd lmaooo

~

If anyone in the permanent tag list would like to be excluded from this fic’s parts, please let me know and I’ll remove you for this fic only!

Hostage Hotties:

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes

As well, temporary tags for this fic only are also still open if anyone else is interested in my bts author commentary.

Temporary fic tags:

@amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @estrellami-1

[regressionschool]

As Tom sat cross-legged on the cozy living room sofa, he struggled to focus on the knitting needles in his hands. Yarn bunched between his fingers, his brows furrowed in concentration. His “teacher” for the afternoon, Sarah, sat beside him with a warm, patient smile on her face, gently guiding his movements.

“See, it’s simple,” Sarah cooed, placing a soft hand over his to help steer the needles in the right direction. “You just loop the yarn around here… then bring the needle through—oh, no, not like that, Tommy. You’re tangling it all up again.”

Tom clenched his jaw and huffed, his face scrunching with frustration. He’d been trying for what felt like ages, but each time he thought he’d figured it out, his fingers seemed to betray him, twisting the yarn into knots rather than the neat rows Sarah was expecting.

“Oh, for crying out loud, Sarah!” he grumbled, dropping the needles into his lap with a scowl. “This isn’t working. I’m just… I’m just not made for this silly stuff.” His cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t help but cross his arms like a petulant child.

Sarah chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Patience, Tommy, patience,” she replied, her voice dripping with a patronizing sweetness. “Knitting takes focus, and maybe you’re just getting too worked up. Let’s try again, hmm?”

Tom frowned, feeling his pride sting under her gentle, almost mocking tone. He begrudgingly picked up the needles again, trying once more. He barely noticed as Sarah’s hand drifted to his lap, prodding the thick padding of his diaper. He’d forgotten about it, mostly…until now, that is.

With a distracted sigh, he muttered, “I don’t need you fussing over my—hey, are you even listening?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Sarah cooed, pressing her hand gently over his diaper. “You didn’t even notice, did you?”

“Notice what?” Tom barked, the heat in his cheeks intensifying. But as he glanced down, he froze, realizing his diaper was now visibly swollen, a faint discoloration spreading through the material. He must’ve had an accident…again. Right here, in the middle of trying to concentrate.

A surge of frustration and embarrassment washed over him. “Are you kidding me?” he blurted, practically tearing the needles from his hands in exasperation. “This… this stupid knitting and now this—how am I supposed to concentrate with you hovering over me like…like I’m a child!”

Sarah’s eyes softened, a gentle amusement dancing behind them. She placed her hand on his shoulder, giving him a soothing pat. “Tommy, it’s okay,” she said softly, her tone just shy of condescending. “I think someone’s a little cranky because he needs a change.”

Tom clenched his fists, his face burning red. “I’m not cranky, I just—I don’t need a change, I don’t need—”

“Shh, shh,” Sarah cooed, gently rubbing his back. “You’re all worked up, aren’t you?” She picked up a pacifier from the table and, without waiting for permission, popped it between his lips.

Tom’s protests were muffled instantly as Sarah smiled, brushing a hand through his hair. “See, that’s better, isn’t it?” she murmured, her voice as soft and reassuring as it was patronizing. “Now, let’s get you all comfy and cleaned up. Maybe we’ll try knitting again once you’re feeling more like yourself, hmm?”

Tom’s cheeks were hot, his anger fizzling as Sarah continued to pet his hair soothingly. As much as he wanted to keep pouting, the gentle touch of her hand on his back and the steady rhythm of her words seemed to lull him into a strange calm.

[batchilla]

Im not shutting up yet.

Spoilers

“But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 

Jay, love of my life let’s rewind.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

After four hours and loosing track of time in conversation, she’s immediately asking you on a second date.

Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers.

Really Jay? Really? You are girlfriends. You need hers and hers helmets. Jay.

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl.

Jay you useless lesbian you are IN A RELATIONSHIP with the “””straight girl”””.

you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place.

You know. Straight girl shit like making sure your lesbian pal sees your tits.

But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Classic straight girly behaviour.

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you.

Much like this frog Jay has never had a thought. Reader wears her sexiest heels and insists you come clubbing with her? Jay turn in your ‘trained by the worlds greatest detective badge’ because you don’t deserve it.

Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts.

Jay. Jay. She’s touching your boobs. Jay think this through.

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.” 

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along. 

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,”  she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door. 

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. 

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air. 

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

[dsireland86]

Omg I just read Denial and it was so good! But we need a follow up please on how the boys find out that Matt & Y/N are finally together and of course the bet they made pretty please with a cherry on top 🥰

Sweet!!! I'm really happy you liked it!! I thought it turned out really good, too. Let's see what I can come up with for a part 2

Denial Pt. 2

18+below the cut

Tags: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers

Y/N woke up, stretching and yawning. The bright sun was pouring through the closed blinds, trying to make itself visible. Looking around, she searched the room for the one person she thought for sure she'd see when waking up, but Matt's sweet face was nowhere to be seen.

Matt pushed open the door with his foot, carrying a can of Celsius on one hand and a steaming hot cup of coffee in the other. He didn't look up at her, in fear he'd break his concentration of walking all the way from the kitchen to the bedroom without spilling a drop.

Y/N watched him, smiling big, biting her lip the moment Matt sat the cup down on the bedside table next to her.

"Hi," he said with a grin. "Hi," Y/N replied. "I made you coffee." "I see that." I didn't know what you usually put in yours." "What did you put in it?" "Two sugars and a little milk." "Oh dang, I usually take five sugars." Matt's face wrinkled in disgust, making Y/N chuckle. "I'm kidding, Matt. The way you made it is perfect." Matt relaxed, climbing into bed with her. 

He at least had shorts on, but Y/N was still naked.

"I'm already addicted to the feeling of your skin against mine," Matt confessed rubbing his nose against hers

"Well then, these need to come off," Y/N teased, rubbing her leg against his shorts.

Matt sat up, instantly taking them off and tossing them to the floor, parting her legs to lay back down.

His cock that was soft a few minutes ago was hard now, pressed close against her sex. Matt rutted softly against her as they slowly kissed. Her small whimpers instigated every thought he was having of being inside her to the point that he was trying hard to move just his tip against her.

Y/N slightly wiggled around until finally Matt slipped inside her, filling her sex completely. The way he stretched her, moving against her walls like he'd known them forever, made Y/N completely defenseless. She dug at his back, running her nails all the way down to his ass, squeezing it as she pushed him up into her.

Matt grunted over and over, gently thrusting into her, yet hard enough so she'd remember him throughout the day.

"Oh god, I hate how much I need you," he groaned, sliding his lips over the skin of her neck. He kept going, reaching her breasts and wrapping his lips around each nipple, sucking them and rolling them around his tongue. He reached her belly sweetly peppering it with kisses. But that wasn't where Y/N wanted him.

She thrusted her hips, forcing her soaked, aching sex into Matt until he got the idea. Looking up at her, Matt grinned softly before lowering his face between her legs. He could already smell her sex and it smelled amazing.

Using just the tip of his tongue, Matt teased Y/N, getting off on just the way she panted and moaned for him. Her soft cries as she clawed at the bed sheets had his mind on a high. Never before had he made love to a girl who responded to him in the way Y/N was.

"You're pussy tastes so fucking good, baby." He peered up at her, grinning when he saw her watching him. Spreading her wet folds open, Matt went deep inside her with his tongue, licking, sucking, and nipping until all that could be heard was her loud, desperate moans and cries.

"Fuck, Matt, you're gonna make me cum! Don't stop!"

She pushed him against her sex, thrusting lightly into his mouth. It wasn't until the friction of his nose rubbing against her clit started that the immense pressure in her lower abdomen became unmanageable and before she could say anything she gripped the bed sheets tightly, crying Matt's name as her orgasm ripped through her, completely ruining her.

Matt cleaned her with his tongue, swallowing everything, then wiped his mouth before collapsing next to her. Y/N was breathless, eyes closed tightly as she tried to recover.

"You okay?" Matt was a little worried he'd overdone it. Luckily, Y/N nodded, finally turning over and looking at him.

"That was a little intense."

"First time for everything," Matt smirked. "It sure is." "What?" "That was a first for me." Matt sat up, shocked. "You're lying!" Y/N shook her head. "How's that even possible?" She shrugged. "Matt, I've only been with two guys before you, and both of them were serious relationships." Matt's brows creased. "You've never had an overnight fling or anything like that?" Y/N shook her head again. "Wow! I feel like a man whore now," Matt laughed. "Why? How many girls have you been with?" Matt laughed nervously. "Ummm, well," he huffed another laugh, "at least five or six." Y/N's widened in surprise. "Damn." "Or seven.." "Seven!" "I'm joking," he smiled. Y/N threw a pillow at him. "Funny," she rolled her eyes.

"I thought so," Matt said, standing up and holding his hands out. "Come on, let's go shower before heading over to the studio. Noah's been blowing up my phone this morning."

"Oh god! You know why, don't you?" Y/N groaned, getting up and wrapping the sheet around her as she took Matt's hand.

"Um, should I?"

"Remember, they already think we're a thing, Matt. I bet you Noah's already made a bet or something with the others over if we've slept together or not."

Matt laughed, closing the bathroom door. He turned on the shower, making sure the water was the right temperature before turning back to her and pulling the sheet off her body.

"You overthink things way too much," he said, scooping her up in his arms, kissing her madly to the point that she quickly forgot about Noah or anything else.

"Round two?" Matt muttered against her lips, pulling her into the shower and under the hot water.

"Absolutely!"

Y/N and Matt stole one more heated kiss before exiting the car. He walked into the studio first, Y/N tagging along behind him quietly, pretending to be interested in something on her phone. It took all her effort not to reach out and take his hand just to feel his skin on hers.

The moment they walked into the studio, Y/N felt all eyes on her. She smiled at the guys, noticing the looks they were giving her and Matt; especially Noah. The shit eating grin on his face was already making her paranoid.

"What?" "What?" "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Like what?" She rolled her eyes at Noah, sighing. "Leave me alone, Noah, please." "Have a late night?" You give him a hard scowl. "What are you implying?" Noah shakes his head, trying hard to mask his grin. "Nothing. Did they fix the water pipe in your building yet?" "I don't know yet," Y/N scowled at him skeptically. "What did you and Matt do last night?" "I don't know, Noah, I fell asleep before he even came home," she answered, clearly irritated.

"Wow, okay, calm down, I was just asking," Noah said defensively, holding his hands up.

Y/N growled in frustration, storming off before Noah could drill her for any more information.

Jolly came over to Noah, folding his arms over his chest. "Well, what do you think?" "Oh," Noah laughed, turning to face Jolly. "They clearly slept together." "Fuck!" Jolly cursed. "Well, I'm not paying up until you can prove it." "Alright, that's fine," Noah said. "But I will. Just watch." He patted Jolly on the back before walking away.

Throughout the day, Matt focused hard on the music and the upcoming tour. He poured himself into it, working with Folio on a new drum pattern for a revised edition of an older song. Jolly and Nick hammered out some new chords with Noah tracking some new vocal sounds, trying to find new ways to revamp some of the songs.

Y/N drowned herself in helping Bryan organize and edit photos from the previous shows they did, which were a few sporadic ones here and there. But, no matter how hard she and Matt tried, they couldn't keep their eyes off each other for too long.

Finally, towards the end of the day, Y/N couldn't handle it any longer and pulled Matt into a small bathroom, locking the door.

"It's too dark," Matt whispered, feeling around in the darkness for any sign of Y/N.

"That's the whole point. We don't want to draw attention," she replied quietly, removing her shirt.

Matt's hands found her, running over the softness of her small breast, instantly making her nipples hard.

"Oh baby," he moaned for her, pinching the pebbled flesh between his thumbs and fingers.

"How wet are you for me?" he asked, slipping his hand down her leggings and under her panties, straight into her pussy.

"Oh fuck, so wet," he groaned. "Matty," Y/N whined quietly. "What do you want, baby? You want me inside you." "Uh-huh, yeah, I do, right now."

In the pitch black, Matt quickly undressed, lifting Y/N onto the counter and removing her remaining clothing. He didn't waste a second, pulling her into him and filling her fully with his hard cock. His thickness against her walls was more than she could handle, and Matt had to press his hand against her mouth to keep her quiet as he fucked her hard.

It wasn't long until both of them came together, panting and sweaty as they clung to one another.

"Holy shit, Y/N, is this what I've been missing all this time," Matt said, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. She caressed his back, kissing the side of his head and laying her cheek on his shoulder.

"I know. You feel amazing inside me."

Matt's lips found hers in the dark, their tongues breaking the barriers of their teeth and meeting wildly. His hands tangled in her hair, as did hers in his.

"I don't want anyone else, Y/N. Only you. Let's make this thing for real. I don't care what the fuck the guys say and how much the make fun of us. You're the one I want. It's always been you.”

Tears rolled down Y/N's eyes over Matt's confession. All the months of working for him, trying to keep her feelings for him suppressed, were finally over.

"I want nothing more than you too, Matt. You're my person. You've always been my person. Yes, let's make this thing for real."

Matt pulled out of her, finding enough paper towels to clean her up with, and finally turning the light on, they dressed, grinning at one another as they did. Matt kissed her on the forehead, wrapping his arms around her.

A sudden knock on the door startled both of them, making their hearts beat heavily against their chests. Matt and Y/N look at one another, eyes wide.

"I'm in here," Matt called out.

"Matt, have you seen Y/N? I can't find her. I need her help editing the last few photos."

Both of them sighed, exhaling in relief.

"No, I haven't. Last time I saw her she was with you. But I'm taking a dump, so if you don't mind,"

"Oh yeah, sorry man," Bryan apologized, walking away.

Y/N giggled quietly, kissing Matt quickly. He turned the light off and left the bathroom, texting Y/N moments later that the coast was clear.

"Noah, I think you're wrong, man. I'm not seeing anything that proves the two of them slept together."

Jolly grabbed his bag, ready to leave the studio.

Noah was frustrated. He was more than sure Matt and Y/N had slept together and were a thing. He was about to call the deal off when he saw Matt exit the bathroom. "Hey," he grinned, patting Jolly on the shoulder and pointing towards the bathroom. They watched as Matt closed the door and  moments later Y/N sneaking out and walking off in the opposite direction. Jolly groaned, looking over at Noah.

"I'll take my fifty bucks now," he smirked, holding his hand out. Jolly groaned, slapping a fifty into Noah's hand before walking away.

"They all know, now," Matt told her, running his finger up and down her shoulder. Y/N was curled up into him, her head resting on his chest as she danced her fingers along his skin. She took a deep breath, exhaling quickly.

"How do you know?" "Noah called me after everyone left the studio. You were right, they all already knew."

Y/N sat up, looking down at Matt.

"See, I told you! And you told me I was overthinking too much. Ha!" "Alright, slow your roll cougar," Matt ordered, pulling her back down on him. "If we're going to make this thing work, you need to trust my intuition. I know things." "Oh you do, do you," Matt chuckled, lightly tickling her sides and making her giggle. "Yeah, I do," she laughed, sitting back up. "Do you know what I'm thinking?"

Her eyes narrowed at Matt, seeing that familiar twinkle in his eyes. She knew exactly what he was thinking from the way his hand traveled to crotch.

Y/N straddled him, scooting down, far enough to position herself where she wanted.

"Oh yeah, I know exactly what you're thinking," she grinned at him, lowering her head down between his legs.

Matt sighed, closing his eyes and laying his hand on the back of her head as she took him in her mouth and began giving him the best head he'd ever had.