#only way we were able to narrow down what was fucking up

[onlyyvette]

BJ from your fave

warnings: top/dom reader + reader has a dick + age gap(barely mentioned) + blowjobs + hair pulling + bit of dacryphilia + choking + dick stepping + toji is a masochist + also a bit of a cumslut

★ Toji Fushiguro is a wickedly handsome man, and you've 100% fell for his charms. From his piercing green eyes, to the ragged scar etched onto his face, and when your eyes wandered further, his sculpted body that you could drool over for hours. No matter where or when you saw him, whether he was gambling his money away at a casino, or making shady deals in a dark alleyway, it was like he could never be caught not looking his best. It would actually be really annoying if you didn't find him so damn attractive.

Even now, when he's taking your dick deep in his throat, he looks fucking mesmerizing. You watch as his head bobs up and down on your length, leaving a traces of spit on your dick every time he lifts his head up. His dexterous tongue works its way around your cock, licking up all he beads of pre spilling from your tip. You swear it feels long enough to wrap around your whole shaft.

Toji suddenly stops sucking you off, leaving a string of shiny spit as he removes mouth from your dick. "You going to stand still forever," he says with a husky voice, pressing a kiss to your tip. "Or are you actually going to fuck my throat like you promised?" His clear green eyes narrow, mouth stretching into that smirk he knows you can't stand. He might have gotten you there, but you were going to keep true to your promise.

"Really thought you we-- mmMPphh!" Toji's eyes widen as you grip his hair and push your dick in his mouth. Without giving him a break, you feed him more of your dick, inch by inch, while his eyes begin to water and he nearly chokes. "Mmnghh! Uhmnghh...mhghh--!" Toji can barely even breathe! Your thick cock stretching his throat out way quicker than when he was blowing you at his own pace. His face is now red as a strawberry and the tears in his eyes are threatening to spill. His hands fist the fabric of your clothes. All Toji can do was moan and slurp on your cock while you had your way with him. He wasn't fighting back though. This was exactly what he wanted.

"I told you'd I'd fuck your throat raw, didn't I?" you growl, pulling him off your dick until his mouth only rests on the tip. You then slam your cock into Toji's mouth, hitting the back of his throat. Finally properly fucking his mouth, you thrust into his wet heat, savoring the sensation of his tongue sliding across your shaft and his throat tightening around your dick.

Toji can only take your dick deeper and deeper into his throat and he couldn't get enough of it. His scalp is throbbing with pain from your rough treatment, his throat burns, and his cock is so fucking hard it hurts and he just isn't able to hold back anymore-- He couldn't help it! Your cock was ramming into his throat so roughly and he was being deprived of oxygen, just enough to make him delirious with pleasure. He reaches a hand down, attempting to relieve himself. He's only able to take his dick out of his pants when you kick his hand away.

"Not this time," you say, giving him a mockingly sweet smile. Then, you stamp your foot down on Toji's cock, crushing it. Toji's eyes snap wide open and roll back into his head. "HhhNGGH♡! Gghhh-- Mnggghh♥!" His moans sharply reach a higher pitch and his back arches. The pain coursing through his veins is so fucking overwhelming that he ends up cumming hands-free, barely even aware of his orgasm.

"Unghhh, mhgnn, nnhh..." Toji's half-lidded eyes rolled, his crushed cock still throbbing like mad. His body was still twitching from the aftershocks of his strong orgasm. Your cock was still slamming into his tight throat as strong as ever. You were pleased to see him cum before you, untouched, and it only brought you closer to your climax.

"You've had your fun Toji," you say with a coy smile, pulling him fully off your dick foe the last time. "Now it's my turn." With that, you slam your cock down his throat a few more times before pushing his head down to the base and keeping it there while you cum down his throat. Toji keens as your cum paints his throat white. He eagerly swallows your cum, barely even able to taste it as it as it goes down his throat. With a relieved groan, you pull your softening cock out of Toji's mouth and take his hair into your hand, raising his head to look up at you. Toji looks dazed, his eyes a bit cloudy and wet with tears. His face is still a brilliant shade of red, and his mouth is wide open, tongue out as he swallows gulps of fresh air. You almost wanted to shove your dick in there again...

"You can't be doing stuff like that with me. I'm getting older you know," Toji grumbles. He's now sitting against the wall, recovering from the brutal face fuck he received less than half an hour ago. You roll your eyes. "You're not that old, Toji. You're not getting sympathy points from me." Still though, you didn't want to leave him. It'd probably make you feel like a horrible person if you face fucked a guy, manhandled him, and stepped on his dick, only for yo to leave him to take care of himself. "Hey... you want to get a drink? Alcohol probably won't help with your throat, but I'm sure that's not your biggest concern anyway."

"...Sure."

[shiftythrifting]

App submissions are currently broken, you can use the following ways to send in your finds:

Use a browser or PC to access the tumblr submission form and send images one at a time.

Attach images to an ask. Please limit it to no more than 5 images, since it comes out as one long line. Asks cannot be edited, so make sure there's nothing offensive in your post or we have to throw the whole thing out.

Upload your images to your own tumblr blog and ping @shiftythrifting. As with above, if there's stuff we don't take, we may not reblog it.

Join our Discord and dump your finds in our submission channel.

E-mail your finds to submissions@shiftythrifting.com.

Make sure you include your tumblr info if you want credit! Please be patient with us, doing this all manually SUCKS and makes what used to take minutes take hours. If you'd like to tip the team of people who are still keeping things running despite tungle going through it, you can do so at the bottom of our store page.

[soapcloth]

Filthy Dog

MMA au -> pro!Soap x PR team!reader

Series CW: 18+ MDNI, possessive behaviour, spitplay, oral oneshot - 2K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

“-I'LL HAVE YER’ HEAD ON A STICK!”

You heard him before you saw him- the blur of a man who was truly more bull than human, and the scraping of chairs. Another headache for you. 

You knew this was coming, you knew he wouldn't be happy with this sponsor. You tried to warn them.

“Johnny.” Soap’s manager, Mitch, tried to reason, eyes widening when the fighter’s massive wrapped hands flexed around his freshly-pressed white button down, untucking the bottom from his pants in the process. “-John.” he corrected, coughing awkwardly. When Soap snarled at him, Mitch looked to you with that ‘help clean this mess up’ look.

“No.” Soap bit, jamming a blunt finger into the man’s chest before you could respond to his plea. “This is yer’ problem.”

“We don’t have a problem.” Mitch assured. “Talk to me John, what's up?” 

Soap’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “Ye’ know damn well. Told you I'd sooner quit than work with Max Energy.”

Mitch’s lips pursed, You were unsure what he expected as the outcome of his greed- probably that he would be able to talk his way out of it. “I don’t remember you saying that." he scoffed. "Come on now, Max is great, don't blow this out of-”

Soap growled in frustration, his fist careening into the folding table beside him; a deadly weapon- a warning shot. 

“Tell me, Mitch- why was I-” he snatched the cloth hanging out the pocket of his sweatpants and pushed it into the wiry man’s chest. “-just handed shorts with Max Energy big and bold ‘cross my fucking bits?” 

he leaned in, jaw tense. “Ah’m a joke to ye’? I’ll quit right here, right now.” 

Mitch called your name like he was summoning a maid and you could only sigh in response. “Soap-” “You say one more word for him and ah’ll knock his fucking teeth in.” he warned, not even turning to look in your direction. Your mouth closed, locked tight. 

“John, you quit and all those paying fans out there waiting for you will make sure you never get another damn title again.” Mitch threatened. “They’re not here for some still wet-behind-the-ears openers. They’re sure as shit not here for Kozlov.” he laughed sardonically. “They’re here for you. Don’t ruin this.” ‘-for me’ he seemed to leave out.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Mitch was doing this on purpose, or if he was just flat out stupid.

A deep, rumbling noise echoed around the depths of Soap’s expansive chest, lips curling back like a dog. “I do this fight- then I’m done, Mitch.” Mitch beamed, seemingly only hearing the confirmation he’d be fighting tonight. “-Not for yer’ sorry ass and not for those Max Energy bastards either. For the fans.” Soap grit out.

You could see the gears inside the manager’s head turning as he processed the financial hit he would inevitably take if his golden boy were to leave. “John-” Mitch practically whined.

 “Not up for debate.” Soap snapped, shooting him a venomous look- and like a tornado on a storm path, he chucked the shorts in the bin and left, dipping back into his locker room.

Mitch sighed, rubbing at his temples before setting his eyes on you.

“Do something. You’re Personal Relations- go relate personally.” Mitch snapped at you as he began digging into the trash to retrieve the shorts.

“Public Relations.” you corrected, earning a frustrated hiss and a dismissive hand wave. 

“Don’t change the subject. Get in there.”

You grimaced. “He’ll kill me!” 

“Don't be dramatic and hurry up, he's on soon.” Mitch urged, shooing you off. You made a sour face, heaving yourself up off the padded bench before Mitch could find something else to complain about. “-Wait.” Mitch ordered, as if he was telling a dog to heel. “-Second thought," he hummed "scratch that, let him be pissed for the fight. It’ll do numbers.”

-

Loathe as you were to admit, Mitch was correct- all three rounds had been polished off like they were light meals. You were next, surely. Your knee bounced anxiously as you awaited the full oncoming force of Soap’s post-cage high. “Fantastic! MacTavish v Kozlov-” Mitch barked out a laugh. “What a joke Kozlov was, does his team think it's amateur hour?” 

“Mitch.” you interrupted, knee falling still. “This isn’t really time for celebrations, you're about to lose your current biggest fighter.” He mowed you down with an eye roll “John just needs time to come to his senses, Max Energy contracts like this are once in a lifetime.”

“He’s not-”

The Locker room door nearly flew off its hinges, a beast coated in sweat and blood emerging. “John!” Mitch grinned with outstretched arms that faltered as the big man stormed straight past him.

God. Good god. He was hurtling towards you. Avert your gaze downwards, you coached yourself, you wouldn’t sit well in the stomach of a dog like him. 

Bare feet stopped before you. “You.” he chuffed out around the rubber guard in his mouth, drawing your gaze upwards. “Let’s go.” You looked around, not fully processing the situation. Mitch regained his composure. “Y-yes! Go talk with John.” he urged, desperately latching on to any inch of leeway Soap would give. “Get the fuck out, Mitch.” Soap barked, voice distorted by the EVA covering his teeth.”’Fore I rip yer’ head clean off.”

“R-right! We’ll talk later.” he laughed out nervously and tucked tail as Soap stared you down through the eyes of a starving street dog; getting the hell out of dodge. He kept his eyes on Soap as he left- a survival instinct not to show your back to a hungry predator.

”I tried to warn them about the Max deal.” you pressed once alone, hoping to avoid an argument. “Ah’know, bonnie.” he hummed lowly, a sweaty, gloved hand coming to graze your cheek. His sudden, loose tenderness came as a shock to your system. “Yer’ not like those vultures- Ye’ don’t see me as an asset.” His empty blue eyes relaxed, pupils dilating as his other hand raised to cradle the other side of your face, both thumbs brushing the corners of your lashlines. “Aye, Yer’ the good one. So patient with a daft bastard like me.” Your eyelids trembled slightly, his gaze zeroing in on the movement. “You want me like I want you?” 

Your eyes darted to your lap, urging Soap to tap at your cheek. “Eyes up- On me.” 

“You give the word and ah’ll treat you better than any man ever could. Ah’ll set ye’ right.” his voice dropped to a low boom. “Yer’ the only good thing ‘round me, have been since the moment we met.” You could still remember why you were hired. Soap was on the come up, but couldn't seem to figure out why getting into random scuffs with strangers over little annoyances was a bad thing. Especially for a man with a body that was essentially a lethal dose of muscle and bulk he had been specially trained in how to throw around. Possible fatal outcomes aside, it wasn't making him a man to root for. Every fight needed tension, but Soap wasn't a man built for pyrrhic victories- he was an underdog, biting and gnashing his way through cage after cage; man after man. He was meant to enjoy his hard-earned glory, and because of your work- MMA fans absolutely adored him. 

Soap huffed out, head tilting. “Y-yeah- yes, okay.” you whispered, trying not to psych yourself out. Your lips creased, head nodding before you could chicken out. 

Pulled into an blurred vortex, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you were hiked over his shoulder as he lumbered towards his private locker room for the fight, locking the door behind him. Setting you gently on the luxurious industrial sink counter was his last mercy as he ripped off his gloves and clawed at your bottoms and underwear, yanking them off your legs. A freshly-bare and clammy hand braced itself under each thigh as he jacked your legs up and over his broad shoulders, a pleased grunt passing his lips. 

He lowered down before cursing and pushing your legs back up against your chest. 

You made a small noise, worried you had somehow fucked something up for him which earned you a growl and a headshake as he grunted and spat his mouthguard onto your tummy, sticky saliva coating your skin as it found its resting place before he dove back in, not caring where the plastic ended up. 

He pressed open-mouthed kisses at the apex of your thighs, sucking and biting at the skin like he was underfed and hungry. You whined as his teeth kept digging into the sensitive flesh, earning satisfied hums from the man in response, stubble not helping your case. You flexed, legs caging in his head which had seemed to guide him towards your waiting cunt.

The noises he emitted as he lapped at your folds made you feel nauseated and lightheaded, a blushing mess.

A shoulder jerked upwards to support your leg so he could explore the messy folds with a newly-unoccupied hand, but didnt pull his mouth back to give himself the space needed to do so; leaving you reeling at the feeling of such a concentrated area of stimulation.

As if sensing your limits, he bullied his way deeper, growling into your pussy in a way that left black spots at the corner of your vision.

Brutish fingers began to dip into the spot they had been searching for and you could feel his body tense and flex as he practically humped into the space beneath the counter, hips desperately chasing contact it wasn't receiving. He cursed against your flesh, mouth covered in drool and slick as he rose upwards, reminding you of a hulking behemoth as you were forced to accommodate the new position. He gazed down with hazy eyes and a glistening jaw as he focused on jamming whatever he could of his finger into your cunt, twitching and thrusting the digit inside you. As if the stretch wasnt enough to satisfy that itch in the back of his skull, he stuffed in his ring finger next to it, pinky and index bracing his hand as he fucked the fingers into you, transfixed. 

You were going to pass out at this rate, his knuckles, malformed from years of improper training and injury- kissed at your inner walls, sending you out of body. 

His lids lowered, pace easing as a thought passed his mind. He paused, stretching open the hole as his throat bobbed a few times. Your head clumsily lolled to the side just in time to watch a fat wad of spit drip from his mouth, directly into your slicked pussy. He smiled, happy with himself and savoring the sight for a moment before continuing his ministrations- slower this time, deeper. He angled his hand, thumb massaging at your clit just to see the way you would react. 

You didn't disappoint him, the sight of you causing his mouth to part, drool still hanging from his chin. “Fuuuck.” he breathed, drawing the word out. "-What a sight ye' are." His eyes darted back to your cunt, thick brows quirking as he experimentally ground his thumb deeper into your nub, urging a cry to push its way out of your lungs. His teeth glinted as he huffed out a small laugh. “Yer’ being so good to me too, huh?” he rumbled happily, eyes coasting along your stretched folds and it took you a moment to realize he wasn't talking to you. He pulled his fingers out slowly, scooping the mixed fluids up and popping them into his mouth. “Mmh-” he groaned, diving back in to gather more, this time digging deep. the movement finally pushed you over the edge. “Tha’s it.” he praised, dipping his head low to lap his mess beneath your flexing thighs.  -

You spent the following half hour under a steaming waterfall shower head with a looming mass tucked against your back, cleaning you up and rutting against you in random incriments- his skin surely emitting steam at a higher rate than the water. He bowed his head into your neck, bunting against you and inhaling the smell of his favourite body wash on your skin. “-Got an offer from 141 Athletics a bit ago, they could take care of it all for us, y'know.” he mumbled, pausing and dragging his nose along your nape. “Yer' coming-" he breathed out. “You work for me, not Mitch- You're coming with me.” you could feel his lips drag up in a sneer against your skin when the man's name left his mouth. In an attempt to comfort him, you tried to turn and face him, but thick arms stopped you, curling under your arms and around your chest, sneaking a feel before pulling you into him, the fatty layer coating his pecs molding against your back like a dream.

You nodded.

“Good.” he sighed.

[suksatoru]

"Boo!"

Sukuna doesn't flinch at Yuuji's adorable attempt at a scare, merely tilting his head with a small scowl as he wags a finger at his little brother

"What's this, brat?" He huffs, tugging on the white fabric covering Yuuji's body as the little boy lets out a whine of defeat

"It's my costume!" He protests, and you can only watch them with a smile as Sukuna huffs, tucking a single arm under Yuuji and easily picking the boy up

"Well I think you look very scary, Yuuji." You smile, and the little boy's entire face lights up at your words

"Scary? If anything, it looks like you're wearing a big ol' diaper. Makes you look even more like a baby." Sukuna cackles at Yuuji as the poor little boy's lip trembles. You know the waterworks are about to come - so you quickly snatch Yuuji away from him

You stick your tongue out at Sukuna, and Yuuji lets out a hearty giggle while your boyfriend rolls his eyes with a grunt

Eventually the three of you are all walking out of the apartment ready to go trick or treating. Halloween was Yuuji's favorite holiday, and you were determined to make this night a good memory for him.

Sukuna wasn't exactly on his best behavior, looming behind little Yuuji with a scowl that scared most people at their doors into surrendering a good bit of their candy to the pink haired baby boy. Sukuna also demanded Yuuji to thank every house they visited, and he happily complied - having a blast running through the neighborhood like a headless chicken.

"We need to get him on a fucking leash." Your boyfriend growls, following Yuuji as he skipped down the sidewalk - belting out some song and oblivious as to how fast his little feet were running. The only way you and Sukuna were even able to see where the little boy stood was thanks to the glow-stick necklace around his neck.

"Be nice." You reprimand, gently tugging on the cape of his vampire costume with a grin. Of course, you and Yuuji begged on your knees for him to wear something scary for Halloween, and he was forced to give in. You were glad - the blood trickling down his chin with his deep red cape flowing behind him made him look even more devilishly handsome than usual.

"Kuna! I got a full size bar!" Yuuji smiles, stopping in his tracks as he waves around the bar with a smile wide enough to light the dark night known as Halloween.

"That's nice, brat." Sukuna sighs, eyes crinkling in annoyance as he squints in the dark - of course the big baby already wants to go back home.

It took Yuuji another hour until he was satisfied. He peered up at his older brother and you, who had slung the obnoxiously large bag of candy over his shoulder as you licked a small lollipop

"I'm tired." Yuuji whines, dragging his feet to a stop as he lets out a long yawn. He holds his hands up for someone to pick him up, and you scoop up the little boy in your arms since Sukuna's were full.

"My poor baby. You did so much work this Halloween, going door to door like that. I'm so proud of you." You giggle while placing a soft kiss onto his chubby cheek, and Yuuji lets out a content sigh as he snuggles into your chest

Sukuna's eye twitches, his arm straining as he slowly shifts the sack of candy from one shoulder to the other

"What about my kiss? I deserve one more than him." He deadpans, his eyes unimpressed as his narrowed gaze flitters between you and Yuuji

"Mmm nope! You can have some at home though. He's been awfully moody tonight, huh Yuuji?"

The little boy squeals as you spin him around, laughter bubbling all the way from his tummy as you grab Sukuna's hand with a smile and begin the walk home.

Yuuji seemed to pass out after eating a good portion of his candy, and now you sit on the couch of your apartment as you watch Sukuna sort the candy - peanut and coffee and butter and toffee - all sorts of flavors in colorful swirly packaging were laid out in front of him.

You nudge Sukuna with your foot from where you laid on the couch

"Gimme a Hershey!"

He unwraps in silently, glaring at you and he taps your lips - signaling for you to open up. He glides a sensual finger over your parted lips - before shoving the chocolate so fast into your mouth that you almost choke

"Sukuna!"

He smiles, lifting himself off the floor and deciding to suffocate you on the couch instead

"What if I choked and died? What then, asshole?" You cry, trying to pry him off of you as he drops his head on top of yours

"Give me my kisses or I'll go wake up the brat."

You're peppering his face with angry kisses soon enough, and his laughter ends up waking Yuuji anyways.

[starsofang]

It was hard to keep up with Johnny when he wanted to take you any time, anywhere. The shower, the couch, the kitchen counter — hell, even one time in Price’s office. Something about dominance or whatever the hell that means.

You asked for one night off from his foolish antics, one night. You should’ve known Johnny would’ve convinced you otherwise, what with those pitiful eyes of his and his silly, little please, hen, just once and I won’t ask again, cross my heart.

Where the two of you were meant to meet up with his force for a sophisticated dinner, Johnny turned it into his breeding ground, located right in the back of the car. In a dingy parking lot, nonetheless.

It felt useless to complain when you were seated on his face, though.

Laid along the backseat of the car with your thighs caging his head, his hands dimpling into the fat of them to keep you still. Breathy moans being pulled out of you every time he swiped his tongue over your clit just right, or when he’d dip lower to the rings of warmth that ached to have his cock inside instead.

“Look at ye, givin’ in so easily,” he murmured against your pussy, the sensation of his lips causing you to twitch. “Can’t even resist it, can ye, love?”

You sucked in a sharp breath at the filth pouring out of him, squeezing your thighs around his head in warning. It only made him groan in satisfaction, toying with your sensitive nub with the narrow tip of his tongue as if savoring a piece of candy.

“I asked— fuck… I asked for one night, Johnny,” you attempted to say, but it came out more whiny than intended.

You could feel him grin against you, and when you tilted your chin down to look at him, you meet a heated gaze so sultry, so devilish, it nearly made you burst then and there.

“S’nothin’ wrong with bein’ fashionably late,” he grunted, pulling away briefly to get the words out. Don’t you dare think he’d stop, though. He simply replaced his tongue with his fingers, arm wrapped around your thigh to reach.

Johnny’s grin grew when your hips stuttered and began to rock, chasing the feeling of stimulation his fingers switching between your clit and stuffing themselves inside of you.

The sight of it had him cooing, eyes dropping down from your face and to your pretty pussy that glistened in the dim light of the car with your own slick.

“Johnny,” you gasped. Your hand slid down to his hair, locking your fingers into the dark strands. “We were late last time.”

Johnny’s eyes flickered to you once again. He took in the way you were coming undone. Forehead glossed over with sweat from the growing heat of the car, your tits bouncing lightly from the desperate grinding of your hips to his fingers, pupils blown out.

Johnny would be a fool to not want to have you anywhere he can. When you looked like a fucked out little angel, basking so sinfully in the greed of your pleasure?

That dinner with his force could wait centuries, for all he cared.

“Yeah?” he mocked. If you weren’t already looking at him, you knew you’d be able to hear the smile in his voice. “Then how come yer still fuckin’ yerself on my fingers, pretty girl?”

You couldn’t help but whine in frustration, eyes squeezing shut. Johnny took that opportunity to press his fingers deeper, toying with your gummy walls. Your mind short circuited and you cried out, thighs trembling around his head.

“Yeeeah, cat got yer tongue. Ain’t tha’ right?” Johnny snickered, his free hand soothing over your other thigh, kneading at the flesh.

The car was growing increasingly hot, sweat beading both of your bodies. Every rock of your hips sent the car jolting with you and Johnny’s head inches away from colliding with the door. If anyone were to drive through the empty parking lot, they’d have quite an unholy sight.

“You’re so fucking— shit, so fucking annoying,” you whined.

A sharp smack to your thigh had you letting out a mix between a yelp and a moan. The sting of it had you forcing your eyes open to look down at him to see him glaring in warning.

“Tha’ right?” Johnny hummed. He promptly took his fingers out of you, resting them on your thigh instead.

Immediately, you protested with a frown, wiggling your ass where it rested on his chest. “Johnny,” you complained. “Not fair. You have to finish what you started.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he assured. “Still care about bein’ late?”

You pouted, glowering down at him. He was teasing you, and you were hopelessly falling for it, just as you’d done every other time he got you soaked and needy in all places unthinkable. Really, the car was probably the most modest pick for the night.

“Say it,” he pushed, that cocky grin returning. “Say it and I’ll let ye cum all over my cock.”

You huffed in annoyance, narrowing your eyes down at him. It was a fight between morality, being on time to Price’s dinner request, and selfish greed, wanting to be stuffed so full of Johnny’s cock that you forgot your name.

“Fuck the dinner,” you cursed, choosing the second option. You were already scooting down where you sat so you could plop yourself right on top of his waist.

Johnny grinned bashfully, hands instantly sliding to sit on your waist. “Atta girl,” he praised.

They knew. How could they not, when your makeup was smudged, hair clearly flattened and combed out with your fingers, and your dress a bit crooked from where it sat on your body? Not to mention the boyish glow that Johnny emitted like he was the damn sun.

“Give us a heads up next time,” Price grumbled, clearing his throat. “We can wait.”

The glare you threw at Johnny was deadly, but he only grinned back knowingly.

You could demand for just one night over and over, but you and him both knew you’d end up a moaning mess, crying his name all over again.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

in my head - m.s.

part two of avery’s playlist series

pairing: reader x matt sturniolo

cw: alcohol, smut (unprotected sex, f!receiving oral, fingering), explicit language

wc: 6k

in my head, i see you all over me

in my head, you fulfill my fantasy

It was like a sixth sense, really, the way you could feel when anybody was staring at you when you weren’t looking. It was something you’d always had a feeling for since you were young, like any time a pair of eyes landed on you, you could feel it burning into your skin.

It was also something you had learned to ignore when you were around your friends, always feeling a constant stare when your head was turned, blue eyes unable to tear themselves away from your frame. You were used to it at this point, the way he looked over at you any chance he got. You were also used to him refusing to admit that he was looking at you, no matter how many times you caught him staring, he’d always deny it, say he was just spaced out or looking past you. You never believed him.

Today was no different, even in the crowded house with music blaring and your mind fuzzy from the alcohol you’d consumed, you could still feel Matt staring at you from where he was leaned against the wall, a fruity seltzer held in his hand as he peered your way. The two of you have been friends for years, but lately it felt like you’ve drifted apart due to how weird he’s gotten around you, and now when you came over, you mostly just talked to his brothers, Nick and Chris, since Matt had always excused himself after you caught him staring.

Matt was always a little bit odd, but he’d gotten more so over the last few months, and you’d gotten sick of trying to reel him back in, finally just deciding to let him pull away from the friendship if that’s what he really wanted.

Alcohol had always made you a little bit bolder, though, and today was no exception, so when you caught Matt’s eye across the room and he actually held your gaze, you couldn’t help yourself from marching over until you were right in front of him, your eyes determined as you approached him. He kept his eyes locked on you, an almost amused smirk playing on his lips at your attempt to be serious.

“Matt,” you start sternly, crossing your arms once you’re in front of him. He’s thoroughly enjoying the way you try to act bigger than you are, though he can tell by the glazed over look in your eyes that it wasn’t raw confidence that had you running up on him, but more of a liquid courage influence. He didn’t mind, in fact, he thought it was amusing. He stays silent, only raising his eyebrows as he peers at you over his can, waiting for you to continue. “We need to talk.”

Matt finishes his drink and sets it down on a nearby table before crossing his arms to match your stance, chest puffing out as his eyes narrowed. “About what?” He inquires, head tilting like a dog.

You weren’t deterred by his attempts to be dominating, though. “About your fucking staring problem.”

He raises an eyebrow like he’s at a complete loss. “What staring problem?”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, dropping your arms to your sides in disbelief. “You think I don’t see you staring at me all the time? I can feel your eyes burning a hole in the back of my head!”

Matt is fully smirking at you now, his expression teasing. “I never stare at you. I look at you sometimes, like now when you’re talking, but I’m never staring at you.”

The distinct presence of alcohol makes your eyes feel heavy and your brain moves slower, only able to process his words a few seconds after he said them, but you refused to be gaslit into thinking that you were wrong, that you didn’t see what you know you saw.

“Don’t lie to me,” you say loudly, reaching up to point a finger in his face. “You can’t take advantage of me just because I’m drunk.”

The next words that he said are what really throw you off guard, to the point where you almost blamed the alcohol for it, and if you were even one drink further into your night you would’ve, but your comprehension levels were still sharp enough to catch the weight of his words as he leans in close to your ear.

“If I wanted to take advantage of you while you were drunk, lying isn’t the way I’d do it.”

It felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, like an unspoken boundary had been crossed and you had no idea how to react to it. Except your mouth moved faster than your brain, and you spoke before you could even think to stop yourself.

“What?!” You shriek, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?!”

Matt rolls his eyes at your volume before he swiftly forces your body in the other direction with his hands and swings an arm over your shoulder. “It means we need to get some water in you.”

You’re offended at his suggestion, scoffing loudly as he led you into the kitchen, keeping a strong grip on you. “I am not that drunk, Matt. Could pass a sobriety test with ease.”

“You’re drunk enough to get confrontational, that’s how I know you need to slow down,” Matt retorts, grabbing an unopened water bottle from the counter and handing it to you.

You want to refuse, to shake your head and push his hand away, but when you turn your head to look up at him, the room spins a little bit, and you know it’s probably for the better that you have some water. Once you do grab it from his hands, you drank almost half of the bottle in one go before handing it back to Matt, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “There, happy now?” You sass.

Matt sets the bottle down on the counter, his other arm still swung over your shoulders. “Sure, now go dance with Nick or something,” he comments, nodding his head in his brother’s direction.

Your confrontational behavior hasn’t dissipated, though, in fact it only feels spurred on by the way Matt is staring down at you, like it’s funny the way you tried to talk to him, like he thinks your attempts at calling him out are adorable. It’s not adorable, you’re serious, and the fact that he doesn’t think you are has you heating up all over again.

In a quick motion, you grab his hand from your shoulder and start walking away, your grip on him tight as you drag him through the crowds of people and into his room. With all the strength you can muster, you pull him in through the doorway and push him in front of you, slamming the door after you’re both in the room.

“I am done dealing with you staring at me all the time and acting like you’re not!” You snap loudly at him, arms crossing over your chest once again. “I may be drunk and confrontational, but you’re drunk, too, so let’s just get this conversation over with so we can go back to being like we were before.”

Matt rolls his eyes at you, huffing like a child. “I’m not as drunk as you,” is all he says.

“Oh, please, like you weren’t just leaning up against the wall out there, or using your arm around me to keep your balance.” You point a finger at him accusatorially. “You’re leaning on your desk right now!”

“Yeah, because my ankle hurts,” Matt shrugged it off, but the way his eyes closed as he spoke made it all the more obvious what the truth was.

By the time his eyes reopen, you’ve marched over to him, your bodies only a couple feet apart now. “Enough. Stop fucking staring all the time or tell me why you do it.” You demand.

He’s getting frustrated again, and you can see it in the way he sucks in a deep breath, like he’s trying to stop himself from getting angry, or maybe he’s trying to stop himself from telling you the truth, trying to fight against the alcohol swimming through his bloodstream. He’s close to cracking, and all you need to do is push a little harder.

“Did I do something to make you mad? You barely talk to me anymore, and every time you do it’s like someone’s twisting your arm behind your back to do it.” Your voice is a bit quieter now, back to a normal speaking volume with a hint of sadness seeping in. “I used to be the closest to you and now it’s a chore to even get you to talk to me.”

Matt groans and leans his head back on his shoulders for a moment before picking it back up and meeting your gaze again. “You didn’t make me mad,” he replies.

“Then what?!” You push, hands flopping to your sides in annoyance. “Why are you so weird now?! You never talk to me, you’re always fucking looking at me and pretending you’re not, you’re always trying to avoid being in the same room as me alone and I am so fucking sick of-“

“What do you want me to say?!” Matt interrupts loudly, pushing himself off the desk and one step closer to you. Your eyes widen in shock as the distance starts to close between you, not expecting him to be so loud. Though the next words out of his mouth had your mind reeling and wondering if maybe you both were a little too intoxicated to be having this conversation. But maybe it was perfect.

“Do you want me to say that every fucking time I look at you, all I can think about is how much better you’d look underneath me? On top of me?” He starts lowly, taking another step closer. “Do you want me to say that I get carried away looking at you because I’m fantasizing about what I want to do to you? That I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to make you feel good and hear your pretty voice moaning my name?”

Your heart feels like it’s stuck in your throat as you listen to him, pounding away and making your hands shaky, adrenaline running through you at his admission. It was the last thing you expected him to say, a confession of desire, the words ripping all of the air from your lungs.

You’re brought back when the backs of your knees hit his bed, causing you to fall backwards on it, hands catching you and resting behind you. The switch in angle has you staring upwards at Matt, the man that was your best friend, lashes fluttering as he gazed down at you, eyes darkening at the sight of you.

“Matt…” you whisper, shaking your head, unsure of what to say.

“You feel fucking stupid pushing so hard now, don’t you?” Matt sneers, leaning over so he’s hovering above you, faces inches apart. “Should’ve just left it the fuck alone.”

You swallow thickly, trying to ignore your nerves and the way the hair on your arms was standing straight up, goosebumps forming from how close he was to you.

“I don’t feel stupid,” you say quietly, pausing for a moment as you stare into his eyes, taking in his expression. His jaw is clenched tight, like he’s angry, but you know it’s his way of trying to hide the way he really feels; scared of how you feel. His eyes are searching yours for any sign of feeling the same, like he’s desperate for any sense of reciprocation. His chest is heaving as he leans over you, trying to breathe through the way his heart was racing, willing it to slow down in vain. You take a deep breath yourself, readying yourself for the shift.

“Just wish you told me sooner.”

Your hand comes up to grab onto his shirt to pull him in, closing the distance between you both, lips crashing together. He loses his balance when you pull him down, hands stopping himself on either side of you when he pushes you down flat on the bed, kissing you back like he’s waited his whole life for this moment.

His lips are molded to yours perfectly, only parting to let his tongue slip into your mouth and meet your own, tasting the drink he finished right as you walked up to him. His left arm shifted so he was resting on his elbow next to your head, right hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers splayed out in your hair as he used his grip to keep you close to him.

Even though you initiated the kiss, you’re still taken aback at how desperate his movements are, taking a moment to collect yourself and kiss him back just as enthusiastically, right hand keeping its grip in his shirt while your other one comes up to mirror his, tangling in his hair.

“Matt,” you gasp in between kisses, whining softly when his lips trail over your cheek and down your neck, leaving soft but hungry kisses across your skin.

“Wanted you for so long,” he groans, teeth nipping softly before he continues his descent, pushing your shirt up until it’s bunched under your arms, moving his lips between the valley of your breasts. “You look so fucking good tonight, was like torture watching you walk around like I didn’t want to rip your clothes off.”

The giggle you let out is breathless, a mix of laughter and a whine, head tilted down as you watch him as he kisses down your stomach, hands moving to slide down your waist, gripping your hips when he reaches them. “You can take my clothes off if you want to,” you say nervously. His attention is immediately drawn back to your face, movements pausing at your words. “Yeah?” He rasps, voice low and quiet.

You nod, pushing yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he slides down your body and onto his knees between your legs, hands rubbing over your thighs. Your bottom half was adorned in a black mini skirt that already started riding up from the way he settled between your legs, your thong peeking out from underneath it, clinging to your skin from the way you were already getting soaked.

“This skirt looks so fucking good on you,” Matt praises, slipping off the end of the bed until he was on his knees, pulling you closer towards the edge until his face was only a few inches above your core. “Wondering why I’m looking at you when this shit barely covers your ass.”

“I wore it for you,” you admit shyly, watching as his hands slid up and down your skin, fingers gripping into your flesh every few seconds, like he couldn’t believe he was finally in this position, lips dragging up the skin of your inner thighs slowly.

“Oh, yeah?” He mumbles, almost absentmindedly.

“Mhm,” you reply, watching as his face gets closer and closer to where you want him. “Was hoping maybe if I dressed hot enough you’d finally crack, get the balls to shoot your shot.”

Matt drags his nose up your inner thighs, kissing occasionally until his face is right pressed into your panties, the thin fabric being the only barrier separating your bodies from what you both craved so badly. His tongue slips past his lips to flatten on your folds through your underwear, a small groan leaving his lips. “Was gonna shoot my shot anyway, just thought I’d have time for one more drink before you got all bitchy on me.”

A gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of his tongue on you, wanting nothing more than to rip the flimsy thong off and fling it across the room. “Calling me a bitch with your head between my legs is a little ridiculous, Matt,” you tease breathlessly, keeping your eyes locked on him. His hands move to push your skirt upwards before his fingers tuck themselves into the waistband of your panties, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “Sorry, next time I call you a bitch I’ll make sure I’m not about to eat you out.”

You scoff at his sarcastic response and roll your eyes, expecting nothing less than him making some snarky comment. His nose dips down and buries itself in the fabric again, his eyes fluttering shut as he sucked in a deep breath, moaning on the exhale. “Holy fuck.” He groans out before he tucks his fingers into the front of your underwear and ripped them apart, exposing your dripping pussy to him, drooling in anticipation.

“Are you…” you stare down at him incredulously, eyes wide. “Are you smelling me?”

Matt looks back up at you with an exasperated expression, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?” He replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you have any idea how good pussy smells? How good it tastes? God, I could get off on that alone.”

You shake your head in disbelief at him, to which he releases a small laugh, shooting you a wink before dipping his head back down and pressing his lips between your folds, planting a small kiss on your clit as his hands push your thighs apart, spreading you wide open to be used by him. “Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. His hands wrap around your thighs and his fingers dig into the skin on the inside of your legs, kneading them softly as his tongue starts to work between your folds, quiet moans leaving him as the taste of you flooded his senses.

The sounds you made weren’t as quiet, the volume of your whines starting to fill the room, grateful for the music blaring through the rest of the house to drown you out. Your head fell back on your shoulders as your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on his tongue on you and the way his hands never stopped moving, whether it was his thumbs stroking over your skin or his palms rubbing up and down.

“Fuck, Matt…” you whimper, dropping your elbows out from underneath you so your back was flat on the bed, body already reacting to the way his mouth was moving on you, thighs starting to shake on either side of him.

He was eating you out in a way you’ve never felt before, his actions hungry and fueled by lust, lips and tongue working in tandem as he practically made out with your drooling core, the squelching of his mouth meeting your heat filing your ears. “Matt,” you warn, reaching down to grab at his hair, pushing him off of you.

He pulls away reluctantly, staring down at you with glazed over eyes, his mouth and chin glistening from the mixture of his saliva and your arousal. “What?” He questions, furrowing his eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, breathing heavily. “Just close ‘n I don’t wanna finish yet.”

Matt’s confused at your words, staring down at you like he doesn’t quite understand, head tilting slightly as his lips parts to speak. “That’s kind of the whole point of what I’m doing,” he states.

“But… I wanna have sex,” you reply like it’s obvious.

“I thought that’s what we were doing?” Matt lets go of your thighs and runs a hand through his hair, growing more puzzled. “Do you not want me to eat you out?”

Your cheeks are darkening in embarrassment the more this conversation drags on, your hands coming up to cover your face. “I do! You’re really good at it! I just don’t want to cum before you actually… fuck me.”

“Why?” Matt snorts out a laugh, crawling onto the bed and hooking his hands under your thighs again, dragging you up the bed until your head was almost at the headboard, his own body moving to hover over yours. “I’ll just make you cum again. And again…” he leans down until his lips are touching your ear, one hand moving to rub over your clit gently, his two middle fingers rubbing through your slit. “And again, til you can’t even think straight.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he manhandles you, the way he pushed your body up the bed like it was nothing creating a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach. “Really?” You questioned quietly, not used to men even really caring about getting you off even once.

“Mhm,” Matt hums into your ear, lips trailing down over your neck. “That okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod your head quickly, nervously. “Just never came more than once before.”

Matt snorts against your collarbone, dipping his two fingers inside of you, your pussy putting up no resistance to him, sucking him in greedily. “Probably because you sleep with a bunch of fucking losers.” He comments, following up his words by sucking a mark into the fleshy mound on your chest barely covered by your bra anymore.

Your back arches off the mattress when his fingers curl inside you, a loud whimper leaving your lips as your hands grip the sheets on either side of you. “Oh my god,” you moan out, ignoring the comment he made. You’ll have to remember to scold him later.

“How ‘bout you just lay there and keep making those pretty noises, yeah?” Matt smirks, sliding down the bed again until his mouth is back on your soaked heat, groaning against your clit when the taste hits his tongue again.

Obsessed doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what he’s feeling, how his mind is absolutely reeling from the way he’s got you coming apart underneath him. The way you taste, the way you sound, it’s all making his mind fuzzy, the buzz from the alcohol fading into the distance as he becomes more pussy drunk than anything in the moment. He’s trying to keep himself from losing control and fucking you into oblivion, grounding himself by listening to the sweet sounds you made.

“So good, Matt, right there,” you cry out, chest heaving as he brings you back to the brink of your orgasm, knuckles turning white against his black sheets. “Fuck, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, one of your hands coming down to thread in his hair, this time holding him against you instead of pulling him off.

“Mhmm,” he moans into your skin, tongue lapping up your juices fervently, fingers keeping pace inside of you.

The way his voice rumbled against your clit was all you needed to send you over the edge, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you moaned loudly, thighs trembling around Matt’s head.

He coaxed you through it, fingers and tongue unrelenting until you were lax and whimpering against the bed, legs twitching from overstimulation with every movement. Matt pulled his lips away, placing one more small kiss on your clit before looking up at you, smiling at how spent you looked, hair sticking to your forehead and your teeth buried in your hand from trying to keep quiet. “You covered up your pretty mouth,” he fake pouts, crawling back up the bed so his face is above yours. “Now I gotta make you cum again.”

You stare up at him breathlessly, watching as his face comes back into view, his expression dark as he stares at you. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Didn’t wanna be too loud.”

“No such thing,” Matt smiles, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips softly. You melt into the kiss, instantly returning it and tasting yourself on his mouth, something you’d hated in the past but felt immensely turned on by in this situation. He only kisses you for a few moments before he pulls away and gazes down at you again. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod excitedly, agreeing instantly. He climbs off the bed and pulls his shirt over his head before walking to his bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer, throwing it next to you on the bed. Your eyes watch the small foil pack as it lands next to you, feeling your heart rate pick up at the realization that this was actually happening. You were about to let your best friend have his way with you in his room during a fucking party, not caring who would hear, and especially not caring about what this would do to your relationship in the moment. Those were consequences you’ll face later, but right now all you could think about was having Matt buried deep inside you.

“Matt?” You sit up slowly and look up from the condom, letting your eyes trail over him, landing on his hands that were working on the button on his jeans, then slowly dragging his zipper down. He hums in response, urging you to continue. You clear your throat nervously, reaching out to pick up the condom. “I haven’t been on birth control for years just for you to not fuck me raw.”

Matt’s lips part as he sucks in a small breath, watching as you tossed the condom back onto the bedside table before smiling up at him. “You serious?” He asks, pushing his jeans down until they fall on their own, stepping out of them before kneeling back over you, his hand coming up to hold onto the back of your neck. You nod again, just as enthusiastic as the first. “Yeah,” you respond softly. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Matt groans and grabs your shirt to finally pull it fully off, throwing it across the room before he helps you out of your bra as well. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he grumbles, shoving you back down onto the bed. A small giggle leaves your lips as he throws you down, hair fanning out over the pillow. The only thing you were left in was the black mini skirt that Matt was obsessed with, the material shoved up and bunched around your hips. It was completely out of the way of what was important, and Matt had no intentions of removing it from you.

Your folds and inner thighs were completely soaked when you spread your legs open for Matt to settle between, the wet skin glimmering in the dim lights of his room, a sight that Matt had to force himself to tear his eyes from so he wouldn’t finish too quickly. “You have no idea how pretty your pussy is, do you?” He mumbled, pushing his briefs just low enough for his dick to spring out, so hard it almost hurt when the cool air hit it. Your ears burned hot at his words, shaking your head gently. “No, I don’t. Wanna tell me how pretty it is?” You reach down to grab the backs of your knees, pulling your legs up and apart to expose yourself to him even more.

“Fuck,” he groans, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry but I’m already about to bust in my pants, can I just…” he clears his throat and reopens his eyes, looking down at the glorious sight below him; you staring up at him as you pull your legs wide open for him, pussy on display and glistening just for him, patiently waiting to pull him into your walls. His hand comes down to wrap around his aching cock and you watch as he starts to jerk himself off, small moans and whimpers leaving his lips, jaw slack from the pleasure.

It takes him less than a minute to stroke himself to his climax, hips stuttering as he coaxed out his load all over your stomach and added to the mess adorning your lower half, your own jaw dropping as you watch him cum all over you. “That was fucking hot,” you praise, a sinister smile forming on your lips.

He laughs, taking a few deep breaths before he situates his hips against yours, resting his tip against your entrance. “Thanks. I was not going to last at all and I’ve always wondered what you’d look like covered in my cum, so.. two birds.” He joked.

You’re about to laugh with him when he shoves himself inside you, bottoming out in one thrust. The movement rips a gasp from your lips, face contorting in a mix of pleasure and pain from the sudden stretch. “Oh!” You squeak out, locking eyes with Matt as he drags his own gaze up your body to stare down into your eyes. “My fucking god,” he groaned, slowly dragging his cock out of you before pushing back in, pulling a soft whine out of your lips. “Holding that pussy wide open for me, hm?”

You bite your lip harshly as your head drops back onto the pillow, eyes rolling back as Matt starts up a quick rhythm, his cock deliciously dragging through your walls. The angle of your legs being pushed up had him hitting every sweet spot inside of you, your voice growing hoarse from how much you were whining and moaning, hands starting to lose your grip on your legs. “C’mon, baby, don’t let up now, show me how pretty you look taking my cock so well.”

You’re trying your best when you readjust your grip on the backs of your knees, but the mixture of sweat and how weak you felt made the task difficult, your hands sliding around and unable to get a good grip. “Can’t, Matt,” you whimper, opening your eyes again to look back up at him, silently begging for help. He notices your struggle and pushes your hands away with his own, spreading his fingers out on the backs of your thighs to push them against you, the new angle of his cock inside you making you cry out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there, please don’t stop, need you right there.” You babble on, staring up at Matt as his eyes stay trained on where your bodies meet.

“Touch yourself, princess,” Matt demands, forcing his gaze up to meet yours, admiring the way your eyes were glazed over and half covered by heavy eyelids. “If you can’t hold your legs up you gotta touch yourself for me, baby.”

You’re taken aback, not used to such demands. Normally the guys you slept with didn’t even care about if you finished or not, and now here Matt was making sure you came at least twice. It was a bit confusing at first, but you eventually processed his words, eyebrows furrowing. “But, Matt, I-,”

He cuts you off with a sharp dig into your thighs with his fingers, silencing you immediately. “Fucking touch yourself for me,” he says again, leaving no room for argument. “Wanna see you cum all over me, see your pretty face and hear how good you sound.”

Really, who were you to deny such a convincing statement? Especially when he asked so nicely.

“Fuck,” you whisper in defeat, bringing your hand between your legs and taking a deep breath before pressing your two middle fingers into your clit, whimpering softly as you drew small circles around it, the pleasure of that mixing with the way Matt still thrust into you making you clench your eyes shut again, moaning as your head dug back into the pillow, back arching into the pleasure. “Oh my god, so good, Matt.”

Once he saw your eyes close again, Matt looked down to where your hand was picking up speed on your sensitive nerves, your movements and his grinding matching up in pace until your legs were trembling again, still held in place by his rough grip. “That’s perfect, baby, shit, you’re fucking made for me, hm? Made to take me all the way like this?”

“Yes,” you choke out, throat starting to straight from how hard you were rubbing yourself, breath starting to catch in your throat. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh my god, Matt, I’m cumming again,” you gasp, whole body tensing up for a few seconds before your orgasm crashed over you, your whole body shaking and legs trying to close but unable to due to Matt holding them in place. He’s groaning loudly, thrusts becoming uncoordinated as he chased his own high, his mouth dropping in pleasure when he finally reached his peak, loud, attractive moans spilling from his lips.

Matt’s own eyes are screwed shut as he paints his release over your walls, breath shaky as he slows down, unaware of how hard he’s gripping into your skin until you whine his name out and push your legs out of his grip. When he lets go, his forearms come down to rest on either side of your head, his face burying in your neck.

“Fuuuck,” he groans tiredly, still buried inside you. “Y’have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like that.”

You laugh, running a clammy hand over his equally sweaty back, patting his skin in a teasing matter. “Glad you got it out of your system.” You reply.

His head pops up after you speak, staring down at you questioningly. “Oh, I didn’t. I’ve still got plenty of fantasies to run through.” Matt tells you, and though his tone is silly, you know he’s completely serious, so you raise your eyebrows at him inquisitively. “Did this not fulfill your fantasies?” You ask him.

He scoffs and sends you a classic Matt eye roll, like he couldn’t believe you were actually asking him that. “It did, but only some. I’ve got like a year’s worth of filthy shit I wanna do to you.” He tells you, dipping back down to nip at the soft skin on your neck, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before letting go, blowing over the wet spot to make you shiver. “Like mark you up, fuck you all over my house, in my car, in the shower, I wanna fuck you on your hands and knees, wanna watch you ride me, wanna fuck that pretty, pretty mouth of yours, wanna hear you beg for me…” his lips are moving down your skin as he speaks, leaving soft kisses along his route until he’s nestled between your breasts, pulling away to look down at your body. “Wanna be able to call you mine,” he confesses, leaning back in to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. The feeling made you whine softly, your core tingling in anticipation, even though you were spent and anymore contact might make you cry.

“Matt,” you huff, reaching up to grab his face and push him off, looking down at his pouty expression. “Everything is so sensitive, feels like my skin is on fire.”

He smiles down at you, like he’s taken your words in the complete opposite direction you meant, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Perfect, so you can give me one more, yeah?”

You’re still processing what he’s said by the time he’s scooted back down the bed and positioned his face between your legs once again, a big grin on his face. You’re about to push him away and tell him you can’t take anymore, you’re too overstimulated to give him anything else, but when his mouth comes forward and starts working on you again, you’re silenced aside from the loud groans and whines coming from your lips, deciding one more couldn’t hurt.

-

a/n: matt’s favorite adjective for you is pretty. clearly (:

also welcome to my playlist series! leave requests for songs you’d like me to write songs based off of

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah

@sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo

@secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff

@imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside

@sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo

@sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003

@poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga

[thebluester2020]

[GI] Kinktober Day 4: "Triple Penetration"

Summary: Since your victory against Tartaglia inside of the Golden House, now that you've healed up properly from your wounds, it seems that your brain can't help but see the harbinger's three forms and their potential in a new light...

Warning(s): Foursome (All 3 of Childe's forms + you), Monsterfuckery(?), Rough Sex, Public sex (In a way, reader and the forms fuck in the Golden House), Fear play, Blood (Reader is bitten but there's not an intense focus on it), Manipulation.

Side Note(s): Finally, an excuse to rant/write about how much I've always wanted to be plowed like a field by Childe's three forms. 🧍

Writing this fic made me realize I need more practice with fivesomes though. 😔

Imagine your shock when you found out that Tartaglia possessed three different forms. Each one stronger and more deadlier than the last.

When you were in the middle of your battle against the harbinger, your heart thrumming against your chest as each attack of his came way too close to either slitting your throat or puncturing a vital organ, you feared him more than anything you had ever feared in your life up until that point. Despite the playful tone he carried throughout the battle, his actions and the way he wielded his weapons spoke a different tune. If he wasn't aiming to kill you, he was at least heavily intent on maiming you. Anything that stopped you from interfering with the Fatui's plans.

To this moment, as you lay in your bed as the steady fall of rain beat against your window outside, you still had no clue how you survived with only a couple of cuts, some bruises, and a few broken ribs! Each thought of him and how you received your injuries made you wince.

And...made you extremely horny.

Perhaps the harbinger had somehow managed to break your brain during the fight.

What was supposed to be fear and perhaps even hatred, you had somehow developed a sick crush on the harbinger as you imagined each of his forms surrounding you whilst you were on the cold marble floor of the Golden House.

"Surrendering? Good..." His base form spoke before he crouched down as a wicked smirk found its way to his lips. "I promise I'll be gentle."

Your thighs clenched at the dirty image that was beginning to form in your head, your hand already traveling south as you delved deeper into your imagination...

. . .

You yelped when the blunt end of Tartaglia's spear slammed into the palm of your hand, all the while a boot pinned down your other one. Your eyes were narrowed as you stared up at the harbinger's three forms, their eyes (or...eye, in terms of Foul Legacy) stared you down before the masked form got on one knee to stare you deep in the face. "C'mon comrade, it was like you weren't putting in any effort at all!" He mocked before he took out a blade that was tucked away inside of his boot.

"It's like you actually wanted us to beat you." He added lowly. Your breath hitched in your throat as he trailed it up your side, over the tops of your breasts all before he slowly...teasingly trailed it down until it hovered just above your clothed pussy.

The three chuckled amongst themselves, Foul Legacy, especially as a long purple tongue flicked out of its mouth to lick over its teeth. "Seems you were focused on something else entirely." It spoke before the masked form flipped up your skirt just enough to be able to cut away your underwear, tossing them aside to be forgotten somewhere before he groaned.

A whine left your lips when a gloved finger pressed against your clit. "Dirty comrade, you were fighting all three of us with such a needy cunt this entire time? I don't know whether to praise or pity you! No wonder you lost." He laughed.

Suddenly, Foul Legacy and Tartaglia's base form knelt down as well, the three large bodies crowding around you before the base form smirked. "Because you still chose to fight us despite having such a big disadvantage...the least we can do is help you, right?" He smirked, your eyes going wide as you watched how he began to fiddle with the belt looped around his pants.

. . .

"S-Shit!" You cried out as the Foul Legacy form currently had you in a mean mating press, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing as you keened at the feeling of his fat cock slamming in and out of your walls. The monstrous form somehow managed to smirk at your noises, his tongue coming out to lick the side of your cheek as a clawed hand came to flick at your nipple. "Feelin' good?" It rumbled out before its head dipped to begin pressing its teeth against your face and neck in its own version of a "kiss".

Until it suddenly clamped down on your shoulder.

The delusion unleashed form laughed mockingly at the yelp you let out as he stroked his cock just above your face, your panting mouth tasting the salty pre-cum that dripped from his cock. "Such a lewd expression comrade..." He said with a smirk as he aimed his cock to your lips. "If you had graced us with such an expression—" He interrupted himself with a groan as he slipped into your mouth, taking advantage of your fucked-out expression and how brainless you were quickly becoming thanks to the Foul Legacy fucking you mercilessly. "—S-Shit...we would've had a much more fun ending to our battle."

"I don't know...that look of pain on your face was addicting as well," The base form purred against your breasts as he sucked and lightly nipped at one whilst he tended to the other with his hand.

Suddenly, he pinched at your nipple. The delusion unleashed form cursing under his breath at the way your throat suddenly tightened around his cock. Despite the rough treatment although...you relished in the feeling of being used so thoroughly, your quickly approaching orgasm nearly giving you whiplash as you struggled to ground yourself via grabbing onto anything that you could manage to grab. Something that the Foul Legacy sensed as his teeth unclamped from around your shoulder, licking your blood from off his teeth with a satisfied growl. "You gonna cum pretty~?" It said.

You flinched at the feeling of its claws moving against your cunt, the sharp yet delicate feel of it making you clench even tighter around the monster, eliciting in a hiss from it. "Fuckin' tight—" Then, it suddenly curled its knuckles before it pressed them against your clit immediately starting a rapid pace as he moved them against your clit. You screamed around the delusion unleashed's cock at the mind-numbing pleasure, the man above you nearly keeling over as a deep-bellied groan left his lips.

"Don't you even think of cumming without us girlie..." He hissed out. "There'll be a punishment you definitely won't like if you do."

Your eyes fluttered at the threat, your hand shakily rising to stroke at the section of the delusion unleashed's cock that wouldn't fit into your willing mouth. Suddenly though, the Foul Legacy and base form groaned in unison, a faint fapping noise reaching your ears as you managed to piece together that the base form was touching himself as he played and sucked your nipples. "Ah..." He moaned. "I-I'm close—" He clenched his teeth, his words being the final nail in the coffin as you felt the knot in your stomach grow impossibly tight before...the Foul Legacy felt a gushing against his abdomen.

The delusion unleashed released a drawn-out moan as he came down your throat at the dirty sight, your glistening arousal splattering against the Foul Legacy's cock as your hands flew to dig your nails into its shoulders. The base form suddenly stilled as he came on your sides, his eyes slamming shut as he moaned and sucked even more harshly on your nipple.

As the two baser forms came down from their eyes, one slipping his cock from your mouth while the other parted his mouth from your breast. They both smirked at the sight of your cock-drunk form still being fucked silly on the Foul Legacy's cock.

With you clenching so impossibly tight around the monstrous form's dick, however...it wasn't too much longer until it came with a near bone-shattering snarl, its claws unintentionally sinking into your thighs as they drew blood whilst its long tongue slipped out from its mouth to lick at your arousal that coated his abdomen. There was a steady buzzing in your ears as you came down from your high, your entire body aching in such a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure.

Perhaps...in reality, you'd have to find Tartaglia again in order to see if you could make your daydream become reality...

[little-annie]

How they got stuck sharing the only remaining bed in the Hopper-Byers family home when they came to visit, they'll never know. (It involved some meddling on both Robin's and Dustin's behalf….. and Joyce and Hopper and Jonathan and El and Will, and literally everyone else who thinks they just need to figure their shit out and get together already.)

But they did.

And Christ if they weren't pissy about it.

They were roommates for God's sake, they saw enough of each other as is. But noooo, they had to get stuck bunking with each other for the weekend too.

They'd began bickering almost immediately when they'd entered the room and saw the state of their situation.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, no. Fuck you Harrington. I'm older-’

“By like a year -”

“I'm older and my poor boy bones are brittle. I get the bed.”

“Poor boy bones.” Steve huffs to himself, taking one quick glance at Eddie and beginning to strip, hoping that if he gets into bed first they won't have to continue this argument.

Eddie catches on almost immediately, undoing his stupid handcuff belt buckle with little struggle and kicking himself out of his jeans so fast he nearly eats the edge of the dresser to his right. “You're young.” Eddie states while trying to catch his breath, “The floor will do you just fine.”

They're both down to their underwear in a matter of seconds. Belts clanking, denim dropping and fabric flying. Eddie in his boxers, Steve in his white briefs that he's sure he hears Eddie snicker at even in his apparent displeasure.

Soon enough they're both trying to climb into bed, pushing and shoving, throwing elbows when the other one kicks out a bony knee. Both scrambling to get under the covers and claim their right to the bed.

Pulling the lone pillow swiftly beneath his head, Eddie grumbles. “What are you doing?”

“Getting into bed.”

“It's a twin Harrington.”

“Yeah and my hips hurt.” Steve answers, driving an elbow with regrettable strength into Eddie's ribs as he continues to try to gain some purchase on the narrow bed. “I'm not sleeping on the floor.” He wiggles around some more, at the moment hoping Eddie might just fall off onto the floor. “Shove over.”

Maybe they can manage to share.

“It's a twin!” Squawks Eddie while bracing himself against the nightstand, pushing Steve back with cold feet to his shins.

“And give me some of the blankets.”

“There's only one pillow!”

“So share.”

Both huffing, wriggling around, pushing and shoving, pulling at the single blanket and the only pillow, they try to get comfy on their backs. Which won't happen because they can't fucking fit that way. The goddamn bed is too narrow and Eddie's bony ass everything is digging into Steve's side as he hangs with half of his ass off of the bed.

“Lay on your side.” Eddie grumbles with a shove.

“What? Why?”

“Because we don't fit like this, Princess. Roll onto your side.”

Ignoring how that nickname makes his cheeks flare in the moonlit room, Steve starts to roll over, leaning to his left and moving to put Eddie at his back. Maybe that way he'll actually get some peace and qui-

“Not like that!” Eddie all but screeches, shoving at Steve's back so hard he nearly falls off, "You want my dick pressed to your ass all night?”

Truthfully that doesn't sound as awful as Eddie's making it out to be. The prick. Steve thinks he has a rather nice ass and Eddie would only be so lucky.

“Well you want your dick pressed against my dick all night? That's the only other option, Munson.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, sighs dramatically and mutters something to himself that Steve's not quite able to catch, before he actually speaks, “Fine. Fine! Just roll over so you're facing me, but just keep your hips back.”

‘Keep your hips back,’ as if Steve would just roll over dick first and press himself right up against Eddie.

Steve tries and fails to muffle his irritated groan as he rolls over to where he's facing Eddie on the same flat pillow.

God they're close.

Noses nearly touching.

In his moment of bitterness and just pure irritation at the situation, Steve had forgotten how pretty Eddie was.

His eyes are so dark in the moonlight.

The rest of him blanketed in a hazy midnight blue, his freckles akin to a star speckled sky.

Steve could never get tired of this view.

“Better?” Steve whispers, trying and failing to ignore the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Eddie's eyes search his for what feels like aeons before he answers. “Fuck you.” There's no real heat to his words, tone more so matching Steve's as he smiles with a lopsided smirk.

Steve rolls his eyes, teasing, if only to see Eddie sputter, “Mmmm, I'll take a rain check on that.” He delights in Eddie's choked off gasp before he continues, “But I will warn you, I'm a cuddler.”

“Course you are.” Eddie grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest and closing his eyes with a flutter of his long dark lashes.

After a moment of quiet Steve takes a chance and presses his foot to Eddie's, soft beneath his sole, and so fucking cold.

Eddie doesn't pull away.

“G’ night.” He whispers instead, pressing his foot just a touch closer, the breath of his words falling against Steve's lips.

“Good night.”

—

The next morning they wake in a tangled mess.

It's hot and sweaty and they're physically stuck together at all points where naked skin meets.

Which is pretty much everywhere.

Eddie's one hand is in Steve's hair as if throughout the night he felt the need to play with it, and his other is so tightly grasped to Steve's bare waist it almost hurts.

His nose is otherwise buried in Steve's neck where he can hear Eddie's faint snores and is sure there's the wetness of drool lying along his clavicle.

It's all a little disgusting.

But also kind of wonderful.

His one arm is numb where it lies beneath Eddie's head.

Steve shuffles enough to separate at least some of their sweat damp skin, noticing in the same instant how where Eddie's plastered against his hip, he's also obviously hard.

So much so that when Steve looks down there's a damp spot in his underwear.

Oh.

Maybe he'll take that rain check sooner rather than later.

Eddie groans in his sleep, hot air breathed against Steve's neck as he rolls his hips and this time lets a soft moan escape.

Yep, definitely taking that rain check now.

Maybe they'll figure their shit out sooner than everyone had anticipated.

“Get off of me, I wanna suck your-”

😉 The End

[reiderwriter]

Wished Away Entire Lifetimes

Chapter 6 of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Living with Spencer - even if it is because some psycho is trying to murder you - means learning more about him. You just hope that the reverse isn't also true as you keep your cards as close to your chest as possible.

Warnings: No smut, suggestive content, both reader and Spencer are horny as fuck the entire time, spoilers for Marley and Me, mention of a pet death in the aforementioned movie.

A/N: At this point, I have to admit to the audience that the plot has somewhat changed from my original intention, but I still have a solid goal in mind, so WHO CARES!!! Domestic Spencer! Dom can mean more than one thing, Amen.

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

Spencer's apartment was exactly as you remembered it, but this time around, it felt different. 

You quietly walked in and sat down on the sofa, trying not to be so obvious in your glances towards the bookshelf, trying to see if your message was still intact. 

“The kitchen's just through here, my bedroom, study,” he said pointing to each doorway, introducing you to a place you already had ingrained in your mind as the site of your biggest surprise. 

You nodded along awkwardly and shifted the bag of spare clothes and toiletries you'd picked up from your apartment on the way there between your hands. 

The shelves were still in order and, based on the updated collection of dust sprinkled about the place, hadn't even been perused in a while. You pouted a little, thinking about how you'd have to reluctantly forgive him for not messaging you. If he hadn't seen the message, then you supposed he was telling the truth about being busy. 

More of you wanted to wallow in your pettiness, to wait until he noticed himself that you were expecting. You did wonder how long it would take him. He was observant. You'd admitted that to himself when he'd first started mentioning case details and inferences months before in the office, but it seemed like people weren't hit forte. 

You were sure he could statistically tell you how big your baby was given the amount of weeks pregnant you were (the size of a plum, according to a Google search the night before) but you didn't think he'd be able to notice that you specifically were carrying said baby. 

It was, though, only a matter of time. 

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” He asked, staring at you with his brow furrowed, his tie slightly looser than it had been a few moments earlier. 

Now you were the thoughtless one. Your gaze raked down from his face to the loosened tie, the top buttons undone, the flash of skin at his neck as he swallowed lightly, obviously not as effected by your gaze as you were by his. 

“Yes,” you replied, letting your mind wander off to one of the two couched he'd fucked you on. 

“Y/N, you're not listening,” he said again, slightly irritated now. Somehow  that turned you on more. 

“Yes, I am.”

“What did I say then?” 

“I said I was listening, not that I cared.” 

He closed his eyes in a sigh before stepping closer to you and grabbing your bag in his hand. You quickly snatched it back and pulled it to yourself. 

You hadn't exactly packed much, but in your rush out of the door, hormones or something maternal had grabbed a baby grow and a teddy bear, and you knew the combination would cause questions you didn't have the patience to answer just then. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, signalling how tired he was with your attitude. You wanted to calm down and just apologise, but the part of you that had jumped at the sight of his bare skin was now itching for a physical fight. 

Emphasis, hopefully, on the physical part. 

“I'd rather you didn't go through my things, Spencer,” you said, throwing the bag back over your shoulder. 

“And I'd rather you listened to me instead of glaring at me, but here we are.”

Your eyes narrowed on him as you found yourself pitching forward, head tipping back as his hand caught the top of the strap and slowly pushed it down your arm. 

“There, now, let me show you the bed.” 

“Bed?” 

“You really weren't listening?”

“I tend to drown you out these days, I fear its a trauma response.” 

He scoffed and pressed a hand to the base of your spine, inching you forward as he held your bag for you. 

First, his hand on your arm, and then the one on your back - you really shouldn't have accepted his offer knowing you were going to spend at least a night and likely more frustratedly horny. 

You'd barely survived a day in an office with him, And that was before you'd been intimate. 

Now you had memories, and a reference point, and a goddamn bed. 

“Here. I'll clear a draw so you can unpack. Let me grab you some towels as well, and-” 

“What do you mean?” Your tone was brighter, less challenging now and more open curiosity, as if being mollified by his temporary kindness. The change made you uncomfortable.

He looked back at you with a wide-eyed questioning stare. 

“Hmm?” 

“Clear a draw? You keep clothes in your spare room?” 

He struggled for an answer for a second before meeting your eyes again with an almost apologetic glance. 

“Y/N, I don't have a spare bed. The other room only has a desk. The bed was removed when-” he trailed off, looking almost guilty as he spotted your embarrassed look. 

“Okay, and when were you going to tell me that?” You said, hands on your hips in an attempt at intimidation. His eyes dragging down your body said that it'd had the opposite effect.

“I did,” he said, stepping closer to you again, hands resting on your hips then stroking up your back until he was cradling your back, closing the gap between you until you were chest to chest. 

“You weren't listening, remember?" 

You desperately clung to that indignant annoyance as his gaze slid to your mouth, your hands pinned against his chest. You were painfully aware of the bed just inches behind you, wondering what his reaction would be if you just stripped off and climbed in. 

“I wasn't listening just now, but I sure as hell was listening on campus. Emily has a spare room, let me call her.”

“No,” he pouted, leaning forward to press his lips to your cheek. 

“Spencer!” You gasped at the unexpected move. If you weren't so delicately pressed up against his rising member, you'd accuse him of acting like a spoiled child. 

He did it again, switching to your other cheek. You pouted back at him, glaring at him when he surfaced from each kiss. 

“You know,” you said as he licked at the skin between your neck and your collar bone. “You have a job to do, right?” 

He hummed against your skin, lips rising to the sensitive point just below your earlobe. 

You breathed out a shaky sigh and tried again. 

“You can't just keep me in bed for two weeks,” you said, gripping his shoulders lightly, not sure whether you wanted him off you, or you wanted him buried deeper.

“I can't?”  

His lips rose again to your cheeks, but so his his hands, grabbing a breast in one hand as the other squeezed your ass, pulling you closer. 

“Spencer, some would think you hadn't had sex in months, come on-” 

“Haven't.” 

His hands were more insistent now, pushing up your shirt and finding your sensitive breasts. His wandering hands didn't care about your bra, they didn't care about how sensitive your nipples were because of the hormones, they didn't even care they were being a bit too rough as he pinched your nipples hard and pulled them upwards, a moan shooting from your mouth. 

It was so painful, so fucking delicious that you almost missed his words. You almost laughed at the irony that both your and his first fuck in months had resulted in a pregnancy. A dry spell ended by a shower of orgasms and a conception to boot. How lucky. 

Spencer was too busy for thought. 

“God, Spencer, if you're going to fuck me standing up, at least do it against a wall.”

He reluctantly pulled his hands away and his head, too, just long enough to glare at you. 

“Towels,” you said. “And a clear draw.” 

He nodded and finally removed his hands from you, though you had no doubt he'd be back on you the minute all the tasks for the day were done. 

“And Spencer?” You said, curiosity getting the better of you. 

He turned to look at you, and you let the question out before you could think about it too much. 

“How busy were you that you haven't had time to fuck in months?” 

If it were any other man, you'd have cringed at hearing your own question. But Spencer always answered so earnestly that there could be very little embarrassment with him. Just frustration and confusion. 

“I wasn't busy,” he said, already making his way out of the room, leaving his head peeking around the doorway as he finished his explanation. 

“I was in prison.” 

You spent the next 72 hours trying to wrap your mind around that declaration. Of all things he could've been doing, prison never came to mind. 

A vow of celibacy you'd believe. Just a general lack of game, you'd be a bit more hesitant to believe, considering his general attractiveness. A nasty case of (now cured) Chlamydia leading to almost a year sex free in recovery would be preferable. Or a stint in rehab for sex addiction, perhaps, considering how often his hands had been on you since arriving. 

But prison? 

What the fuck would they put him in prison for? 

While he'd run errands for you that night, you'd tucked yourself into his bed, not even bothering to change into your pajamas. You stripped off a single layer and climbed in, not stopping to let yourself contemplate that answer until the morning. 

Unfortunately, since you'd found yourself snuggled up to a hard cock 8 hours later, you didn't exactly have time to think about it then either, busy grinding against him wantonly. 

By the time his hands were gripping the flesh of your thighs grinding back into you on the edge of sleep, you'd been struck with your usual morning upset, and had sent yourself to the bathroom quietly to empty your stomach. 

He was still abed when you'd finished, and you decided to leave him there to think, and then you'd repeated that twice coming up with no logical conclusion. 

You'd finally given in and thrown in the towel when you realised you had Penelope’s contact details still and decided to ask her yourself. 

It was a relief to know that the man you'd created life with was not actually a murderer but actually wrongfully convicted. Especially since you were supposedly thrown into his arms (this time) by a murderer yourself. 

You did start to feel guilty about treating him like shit when you first met, though. He'd, supposedly, only been back from federal prison for a few weeks when he was thrust into your office, which probably explained his less than friendly nature. 

It didn't excise yours. 

You'd kept our distance enough in those few days to avoid sexual encounters, but you relaxed into his touch a little more after finding out. 

It came as a bigger shock than it should have that you enjoyed Spencer Reid's company. 

Bored out of your mind on house arrest, you'd taken to rooting through his bookshelves, and when he wasn't commenting on your bad habit of touching other peoples books or actually doing his job, he rooted with you. 

“Why do you have a copy of The Collector by John Fowles from a New York public library?” 

“It was from a case.”

“And why didn't you return it.” 

“Touché.” 

You'd rolled your eyes at him  and picked up a battered copy of Crime and Punishment from a lower shelf.

“Writing a book this long should be a crime, and reading it must be a punishment,” you grumbled to yourself as he laughed behind you. 

“I can finish it in three hours,” he said, trying not to brag but failing miserably. 

“You're bluffing.”

“Want to make a bet?” He smiled at you mischievously, and suddenly you saw the boy he must've been. Your heart panged as you wondered if your child would inherit that look. 

“Penelope said I shouldn't gamble with you. Las Vegas, right?” 

“Penelope?” he asked, and you realised your blunder. Technically, you still had yet to be introduced to the one woman tech show that was Ms. Garcia, and you scrambled for an excuse. 

“Emily made me contact her with all my passwords and tech info,” you said, technically not lying. 

“She's real friendly.” That was definitely the truth, and you prayed to god that he bought it. 

You didn't give him a chance yo interrogate further, simply throwing the brick of a Russian classic at him and grabbing a book yourself. 

You climbed onto the couch next to him, resting your head in his lap and began to read your book. 

“Time starts now, Reid. And I will be testing you after.”

“Sure, if you can stay awake,” he said, stroking your hair out of your eyes and leaving you in peace as he began his solo race. 

Spencer didn't let go of your off-hand comment, though. On the contrary, he let it spill over into his work life the next day as he watched Penelope with furtive eyes, wondering what the two of you could be hiding. 

He knew you were hiding something. You'd had the same look about you at the bookshelves as you did when you first insisted you weren't attracted to him. A mildly annoyed face and an unconscious bite of the lip, a glance to the right, and all of a sudden, he was dying to know what you were hiding.

“So far there's been little activity in the hunting grounds due to the vigilance of the girls on campus, but there have been a spike in reported stalking, and Penelope, how do you know Y/N?” 

He fought to get the words out, mollifying himself with the consolation that at least he got all the important information out first in the middle of the meeting. 

“Oh ho,” chortled Luke from the side, looking on amusedly as Penelope glanced about for help or a way out. 

“I don't know Y/N, I've never met Y/N. Why would you think I know Y/N? Who is Y/N?” 

“Slightly overkill, Penelope,” Emily said, collecting her papers and abandoning the other woman. 

The others followed suit as she gaped and sent pleading looks behind them. 

“Penelope?” Reid said again, and Penelope was annoyed to find his stupidly innocent puppy-dog eyes staring back at her and expecting answers. 

“No, no, no, no, I promised I wouldn't say anything, and I am not breaking a promise. Don't make me break a promise, Spencer, you know that's bad luck.”

She stood and tried to walk briskly out of the room, but he followed her still. 

“Penelope, please. I won't say anything.” 

“Yes, you will. You can't help yourself,” she said, stopping to talk to him for a second before quickly starting again, practically marching to her office. 

“Then tell me where you met, at least? I know it wasn't messages, Penelope, all her communications went through Emily. She's lying to me, and we have to keep her safe.”

They finally reached her office, and Spencer finally pulled out his final card. 

“I just want to keep her safe, Penelope. Just this one girl, just this once.” 

She looked at him with a shocked, heartbroken face, even as she knew he was manipulating her and caved. 

“She came to your apartment. A month ago. I was there picking up a book for you.”

“What was she doing there?” 

Penelope hesitated, trying to avoid the topic of your revelation, telling herself that if she didn't tell him about the baby, she hadn't actually broken her promise. 

“The emails. She found some emails from you in her spam folder.” 

“Right,” he said, blowing out a deep breath in relief. “Right the emails. She mentioned that.” 

Penelope, too, let out a sharp exhale, imagining the worst of it over now he'd stopped asking questions. 

Spencer made his way to the door before turning back and asking one more, though.

“Penelope, why did she ask you to keep this to yourself?” 

Penelope sent him an apologetic look, then zipped her mouth shut and threw away the key. He nodded and took his leave. 

Spencer was sure that there was an explanation for everything, that you'd probably just been embarrassed at turning up at his house and finding out he wasn't there. Maybe you'd even forgotten you'd been. 

But another deeper part of him was angry and unjustifiably so. You'd lied to him, and he felt sick, angry, violent, and like he'd love nothing more than to bend you over his lap and make sure you never did it again.

All of the unjustified anger he'd pent up in prison, the rough way he carried himself in the field now, his less than friendly exterior, it was bleeding into his relationship with you. 

He tried to damp it down, but he couldn't control it, and he was scared even as he opened the door to the apartment and prepared himself for an argument that would probably end in rough, probably progress-ending sex. 

And you had made progress in the last few days. He'd thought at the very least that you'd be a friend, albeit one he would love to kiss and sink deep into. Now he knew that he'd probably ruin all chances of that as he rounded the corner and prepared for a fight. 

He was angry, and, like it or not, he knew he was going to take it out on you. 

It was the sight of you on the couch that completely dissipated every negative emotion that he had. 

Your dress was loose and fell about you in a puddle, though it too was drowned underneath what looked to be every blanket in the house. 

Tara sat off in the corner silently watching you, and he gave her a stiff nod as she departed her protection duty for the day. 

“S-Spencer,” you sniffled, and his heart paced rapidly as he found your face stained with tear tracks, fresh tears still dripping down as well. 

He had just enough time to check you over for injuries before you had flung yourself into his arms and commenced sobbing like an absolute baby. 

“Y/N, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” 

Your breath hitched as you tried to speak, but you couldn't calm down and he walked you back to the couch, sitting down and letting you climb into his lap, straddling him as you once again buried your face in your neck. 

Five minutes later, you'd ceased with the dramatics, but you faced the awkward consequence of having to tell him now that you were crying because of a scene in Marley and Me. 

“It's s-stupid,” you laughed into his neck as you cuddled into him, further muffling your voice against his chest. 

“Just tell me,” he pleaded, stroking your back and hair. You looked up at him in his eyes, and then shook your head and retreated into the comfort of the crook of his neck, hips pushing closer into his as his hands rubbed comforting circles in your back. 

After a few rubs, it was quite obvious that his hands were pushing lower, and his fingers were close to grabbing a handful of your ass. 

“Was it a movie?” He asked. You nodded. 

He looked at the screen and sighed. 

“Marley and Me?” He asked. You nodded again. 

“And the dog-” 

“He died, Spencer. He loved his family so much that he took himself outside so they wouldn't have to watch him die.”

“I know, Y/N, I know.” 

“He was such a good dog,” you said, blubbering again. 

“I know,” he said, gently kissing you. 

“You know, crying during movies is a sign that oxytocin has been triggered by the connections you feel due to vicarious social experience. Your attention is captured and emotions elicited by the movie's story.” 

He kissed you again, and you kept listening to his explanation, suddenly calmed by his gentle explanation. 

“Oxytocin is best known for its role in childbirth and breastfeeding, increasing contractions during labour and stimulating the milk ducts, but it's also released in response to positive physical contact – hugging, kissing, sexual intimacy and even petting animals – as well as through positive social interactions.” 

“Spencer?” You said, looking up at him again. 

“Yes?” 

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I do know what oxytocin is. I, too, have a PhD, you know.” 

He smiled shyly as he ran his hands down your legs and back up again, pushing your skirt up to the tops of your thighs before gripping the bare skin he found there. 

“I think I'd much prefer if you just kissed me again,” you said. 

And he did. 

With a tear, you'd lifted the anger that had built up all day, and now he was like putty in your hands, obeying his every command for physical attention. 

He kissed you hard, his tongue tangling with yours as your hips subtly shifted above his, stimulating areas that had been much too eager to be stimulated in the last few days. 

His cock rose slightly, filling with blood as you moaned gently into the kiss. 

He was seconds from pushing you into the couch once again and freeing his abused cock, plundering your depths once again, but gently this time. He had promised himself he'd make the third time a bed at least, but here he was. You had to stop sitting on sofas. 

But with a quick thank you and heavy eyelids, you pulled away and rested your head against his shoulder. 

In his shock and disappointment, it took him rather a long time to realise you'd fallen asleep in his arms. Though his body craved attention for his own, the weight of you on top of him was warm, and satisfying, and when the shock wore off and he'd blinked away any untoward thoughts, he pulled you in closer, sunk down into the couch, and slept with you. 

@Cattosmush @im-this-girl @Sarcasm-and-stiles @lovemelaunic @lllucere@ Cattosmush @lariclifford @daphnesutton Ccatstars @Iniyalovesall @solemnarration @emma-e-a @haygirleyhay Mel-knee @broadwaytraaaaash @Wildflowerpassion @itshardtopickaname @Timidquindim @yourfavoritefangirl @waywardxrhea @Aliceofonederland @joshuafatubaee @jc10622 @timeboundkate @Roslxnxx @Gensthoughts23 @marvelshittt @lavvylove @Slitherss @mythumbhurts @Xiaexact @Honestlyloving @maryyy-8

🔖@mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @nox-sprite @alondralolll @allspicestones @Chiyozai @iheart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @tiyuel @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read @ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @mggreidsreads @@farfromthehomelands @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfudidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @@nvrlandqueen @delicatelittleworld @nokjhg @measure-in-pain @famouslynerdy @batrensworld @batrensworld

[atrwriting]

selfish - frank castle x reader

hey y'all back in action with another porn no plot one shot

all i'm saying is,,, they knew who their target audience was with this (or are we just all mentally ill?)

summary: frank shows you what it means to be a real, selfish man.

informal warnings: frank is the selfish man in this, but I was the selfish woman writing this. couldn't get this out of my head as I started season two of the punisher, and frankly (haha get it -- sorry) after this scene you wouldn't be able to either

as always, the actual warnings: vulnerable frank, #sadboihrs for both the reader and frank, smut, porn no plot, choking, dirty talk, and ROUGH frank

anyway... selfish:

“what’s your type?”

the million dollar question. the one that you had been troubling yourself over for years.

“my type?” you repeated, eyeing the man who asked you. “or my pattern?”

he tilted his head in curiosity. “both.”

you chuckled. “my pattern… well, they’re usually useless. man babies.”

it was his turn to chuckle. “you like taking care of them, yeah?”

you shrugged. “i love taking care of people, but not men that de-age into babies as time goes on. did you know a guy i dated asked me how to boil water once?”

“you’re joking,” he took a swig of his beer, eyeing you. “no way that’s true. made that up.”

“i wish,” you laughed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i’m also not making it up that i stayed with him two years after that.”

“sounds like your fault.”

you nodded. “the pattern made me realize what my real type is.”

“what?”

“it’s corny.”

“say it.”

a smirk attempted to appear on your lips, but you pushed it back down. “i don’t like selfless men.”

he let out a laugh in disbelief at that. “you and every other chick.”

you chuckled too. “i heard this an analogy once… if you’re falling over a cliff, would you want your person to save you? or someone else about to fall on another side of the cliff?”

he stopped talking then, listening intently.

you kept going. “obviously, i’d want the other person saved… but in my head, when i’m all alone and there’s no one that has to be saved… sometimes it’s nice to think that someone would be so selfish that they would save me over doing what’s right.”

“you could live with that though?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, a bit of judgement lacing his words.

you shrugged. “never been the person that was saved, so i’m really not sure. it’s not that i want to be saved or anything — that’s super fucking corny. but man, a fucking masculine man, putting you over other things? deciding that in that moment, you’re what matters to him? i spend all my days being selfless, putting myself in danger so other people are saved… and i’m tired.” you took a swig of your drink. “i’m really fucking tired.”

“why don’t you save yourself, then?”

“for the same reason you’re here,” you sighed. “when have we ever been selfish, frank?”

he laughed at that, but almost scoffed. “i don’t do anything i do for anyone but me.”

you swallowed then, clenching your jaw. “so many people have wronged you… but you’ve only done what you’ve done because of how people have wronged those you loved. hate to break it to you… but you’re as selfless as anyone could be.”

he folded his lips underneath his teeth and stared aimlessly off into the distance. there were bags under his dark eyes, and no amount of sleep or beer would ever take them away. the man would never know peace, and your heart broke at that. however, it was nice to know someone was going down the rabbit hole with you.

“i don’t think i’m selfless,” he finally spoke after a bit.

you raised an eyebrow at him, calling his bluff.

“i did the things i did because my family was what was most important to me,” he admitted. “that’s selfish.”

you swished his words around in your mouth a little, and decided he was right. the spin on your words made you nod, agreeing with him. “i see your point.”

“so, what?” he asked. “you want a man that would choose you over innocent people?”

you huffed, standing. “i know you know that i never said that. i’m saying that in the back of my mind, it would be nice, just once, for a selfish man to decide that i’m all he wanted. it would be nice to know that i don’t always have to carry the weight on only my shoulders.”

he didn’t say anything then, staying planted on his seat on the floor. he twisted the bottle in his hands and listened to you.

“if i’m being honest with myself…” you began, swallowing your heavy statement. “i would prefer if they saved the innocents, but only so i could die, as i probably would falling in that situation, with a clear conscience. all i’m saying is… it’s a heavy fucking burden always doing things so i don’t feel guilty.”

you walked away then, not muttering a goodbye. frank didn’t say anything either. you heard him raise the bottle to his lips once more before you shut your bedroom door behind you.

it would be an hour or so before you heard a gentle knock on your door. there was no yelling or screaming outside, so you were grateful to hear there was no imminent danger present. in your tiny pajamas, you answered the door to find none other than frank. he was leaning against a wall in the hallway that led to your door, only a couple feet from you.

he didn’t say anything when you came face to face with him. he just stared at you, placing all of his focus on your confused face. it would be a few moments of silence before he finally stepped closer to you, and placed a calloused hand on your face.

you froze. frank castle never touched you, especially in that way.

“wanna know my type?”

you stared at him and swallowed thickly. your lips parted to whisper, “sure.”

“an escape,” he whispered back. “i know what you meant by always having the dark cloud of duty hanging above your head, ready to kill any moment of peace you happen to get your damned hands on. i’ve done everything i’ve ever done for the people i loved, and i know the only way for me to experience any fuckin’ joy is with another person.”

his dark eyes held your gaze, and you soon grew lost in them and his words. you swiped your tongue across your lips and stepped closer. you could feel frank’s breath on your chin, but you couldn’t breathe. his scent, his stare, and his fucking words were more intoxicating than any alcohol you had before.

“you want an escape, frank?” you softly asked, eyes darting to his lips.

“i do,” he stated, before he lowered his head and kissed you.

his free hand immediately came up to the other side od your face and pressed against your cheek. there, he held you in the palms of his hands as you rested your hands on his thick, muscled chest. his lips were dry and cracked, but you didn’t care. the fire that brewed from his affection was enough to fill any of the cold, dark, and lonely places inside of you and you greedily drank from anything he offered.

“you want someone to want you, darlin’?” he asked in between kisses.

you hummed in agreement, not wanting to break apart your kiss for anything — even words.

“can’t get you out of my head, sweetheart,” he spoke, dipping his tongue into your mouth. “need to feel those long legs around me.”

you whimpered at his words, letting his tongue dance with yours. you could taste the heineken on his tongue and savored every bit. “please, frank… i need to feel you so badly.”

“i’ve got you, darlin’.” he picked you up by the backs of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around him. the pads of frank’s finger tips dug into your flesh and a warmth spread throughout you. “those fuckin’ legs.”

you would’ve giggled, but you were too consumed with the very touch of frank to even care. you pulled at his shirt and threw it over his head, sad to break the kiss for even a second. you immediately went to his neck and began to nip at the thick skin, causing a growl to rumble in the deepest parts of his rib cage.

“y’drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he grunted. “sweetest fuckin’ kisses.”

“oh, frank…” you moaned against his neck before he threw you onto the bed. you turned over onto your back to face him. he locked eyes with you as he stood over you, muscles naturally flexed as he undid his belt. your mouth watered at the sight of the fucking man before you, taking off his belt for only you. the way his shoulders, pectorals, and arms worked in the dim light of your room… that man would be the death of you. you hissed, “you’re such a tease.”

he smirked at that, throwing the belt somewhere in the distance. “think you’ve just never been with a real man before,” he replied, before engulfing you into another kiss.

frank’s hand dipped into your shorts and immediately went for your slit. your body fucking sang at finally being touched the way you needed to be as you arched your back into frank, his chest pressed against yours. when frank began to run rough circles around your clit, nothing could hold back your moans or him swallowing them whole.

“only took off my belt, and this is how wet you get?” he asked, biting down on your neck. his long, thick middle finger dipped inside of you as his thumb worked at your clit. he tapped against your upper wall and you keened into his touch, whimpering his name. “now i know it’s the men before me. barely doing a fuckin’ thing and i’ve got you like this.”

you nodded pathetically, just wanting him to continue. “it feels so good,” you gasped, bucking your hips into his hand. “please, please — don’t stop, frank.”

he leaned over and pressed his chest against yours before his lips found your neck once more. his kisses were wet and sloppy, and there was nothing better than feeling the weight of a strong man above you working at your needy pussy. his rough movements against your sensitive skin were sending you into a frenzy as if nothing mattered in the world besides frank — your world started and ended there. your body felt hot — steaming from everything this man was doing for you with barely any effort. your whimpers and gasps fueled frank’s movements as if he couldn’t get enough of them.

“such a good girl f’me,” he said before he bit down on your neck and kissed the spot. “y’get so worked up, i want to see what it’s like when you fall apart.”

“i’m so close, frank…” your voice was hoarse and full of lust, and you were about to break any moment.

“that’s it, baby, yeah,” he spoke, slipping a second finger inside of you. “cum all over these fingers baby. let me taste you after.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck —!”

your world came crashing down onto you. your strength was no match for frank’s, but with the way your back arched and body curled into him, your chests both rose off the bed. he wrapped a strong arm underneath the curve of your back as you fucking sobbed his name, holding you to him and supporting your weight.

“that’s it, darlin’,” he grunted against your ear. “yeah — that’s it. keep cumming for me, fuck…”

your hands grabbed at his thick biceps and you grew lost in his movements against the most sensitive parts of you that never ceased. your hips were rolling in circles with his fingers and your vision went hazy.

“so beautiful like this f’me,” he groaned. “might be mean and not let you stop.”

“fuck, frank,” you cried, whimpering for him. your body fell limp against his arm, and he lowered your bodies back down to the bed. during your comedown, frank kissed at your neck as his free hand ran up and down your body. his other hand continued to rub against your pussy and it was driving you fucking crazy. “let me ride you — please.”

your voice was full of desperation, and frank smirked down at you. he slipped his fingers out of you and rolled off of you onto the bed. you tugged his pants down to his thighs, not wanting to waste any time. you were so greedy, but he didn’t care. he smirked as he watched you pull down your tiny shorts. you straddled him, pressing his chest to yours, as you sank down onto his thick cock.

“my fucking god —“ you gasped, your pussy stretching around him.

frank immediately grabbed your throat and you sucked in a sharp breath at the sight. he placed the tips of his fingers in his mouth, and tasted your juices that remained on his skin. there you were, impaled on his cock, hovering over him as you watched the most sensual thing you had ever seen him do. his dark eyes were locked on yours, but your lips parted as you watched him taste you. only a smirk remained on his lips.

“sweetest fuckin’ pussy i’ve ever tasted,” he spoke. “now show me how she rides me.”

he roughly pushed you upwards so you stood up straight. the angle made a whimper leave your lips, as he was now fully inside of you and the deepest anyone has ever been. you planted a limp hand on his stomach, and began to roll your hips against his.

his calloused hands found your hips as he threw his head back against the bed. the tendons in his neck were on full display as he stretched his head back as far as he could. the pleasure he felt was spreading all throughout his body, and he couldn’t help but go taut at the feeling. you watched his mouth fall agape and his eyes close as a moan pushed passed his lips.

the pads of his fingers dug into your hips and pushed you forward and back. even his fingers were strong and had control over you, and you couldn’t help but willingly give everything over to him. your whines filled the room, getting lost in your own pleasure with him. there was nothing like the sight of being thrown into vulnerable pleasure with the man under you, succumbing to your touch.

“fuckin’ god —“ he moaned, raising his head back up to keep his eyes locked on where your bodies connected. “never felt so fuckin’ good.”

his hoarse voice caused you to move faster as you ground your hips against his. his hands were rough and desperate as they pulled you up, down, back and forth — until you didn’t know which way was anything. all you knew were the directions of frank’s hands, and you followed in suit as he dragged you down another road of ecstasy.

“greedy fuckin’ pussy,” he groaned. “never enough for her, huh? needs more, even after what i did?”

“yes, yes,” you whimpered pathetically. “your cock feels so good, frank. so fucking good.”

“yeah, darlin’, that’s it,” he grunted, brown scrunching together. “such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”

“fuck, frank — don’t say that,” you cried loudly, biting your lip. “feels too good when you say that — i can’t cum yet.”

he immediately reached for your neck and pulled you down to him. you gasped at his rough touch, but your hips never stopped. he bent his knees so your ass could bounce off of them, giving you more leverage. his cock curled deeper into you, hitting your cervix.

“oh my — god —“ you sobbed so close to his lips.

“nah, baby, that’s not how this works — you’re gonna take everything fuckin’ i give you,” he grunted. “i know y’want to be a good girl f’me, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you were incoherent at this point, ready to tell frank anything he wanted to hear as he bucked his hips into yours. “frank, i’m so close — how —“

“love a needy pussy like this,” he spoke, pulling you closer by the throat for a kiss. “you gonna be good to me? you gonna cum around my cock?”

“fuck, yes —“ you sobbed. “i want you to cum with me, baby, fill me up.”

that set him off. he rolled both of you over before you even knew what was happening. he had you pressed against the bed, hand still around your throat. you grabbed at his arm, loving having the feeling of his strong muscles hold you down. you wrapped your legs around his back as he threw his hips into you. over, and over, he drove himself inside you.

“dirty fuckin’ girl,” he growled, biting down on the skin of where your neck and shoulder met.

that was it. that was how you crumbled a second time for frank that evening.

you fucking wailed his name.

you grabbed at every part of him you could, struggling to hold on for dear life. your body shook with convulsions as your pussy tightened around him, locking his cock in place. nothing could stop his strong hips as they continued to rut into you — riding out your second orgasm of that evening.

you fell back against the bed, fucked out and gasping for air pathetically. frank pressed several kisses to your neck before he stood up on his knees, leaving your weak body below him. you pushed yourself to your elbows with whatever strength you could muster. frank grabbed you by the hips and you watched him slam his hips into yours.

you watched his forehead scrunch as his mouth fell agape. his chin was almost tucked to his neck as his eyes never left where his cock fucked into you.

“use me just like that, baby,” you cried. “i want your cum inside me.”

his strong, trim body went taut as his orgasm hit him, and you watched hungrily as the man before you fell vulnerable to the only pleasure he could allow himself these days. you watched as his conscious mind slipped further and further into the sensation until every ounce of stress and exhaustion left his face. you couldn’t help but bite your lip in pride and satisfaction — knowing that you will never see a more beautiful sight like frank castle using your body to get off.

you fucking loved selfish men.

----

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN NOW EVERYONE GO WATCH THIS SCENE -L xox

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Full Baby Back Guarantee Not Included (dp x dc)

“Look, lady. It was a joke, ok? I don’t actually want your newborn baby,” Danny said as he held up his hands trying to back away from the woman with a bundle of blankets in her arms.

“We made a deal, you can’t back out now,”  The woman said as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Your kind can’t break their words.”

“My kind?” Danny exclaimed incredulously, because what the hell was she on. “Lady, you are delusional.”

Then his eyes caught on the awkward way the woman was holding onto the bundle and he frowned.

“Wait a second.” The halfa’s eyes went big. “Is that even your kid?!” his voice turning into a shriek at the end. “Did you kidnap some random child?”

“It’s my sister’s,” the woman cut him off coldly. “She and the father are both dead.” That was pretty awful, Danny thought as he winced. But then she turned to look blankly at him.

“Nobody will look for her.”

Dear skies above, he was supposed to be the ghost here, why was he the one getting chills.

“Holy fuck,” the halfa let out softly. 

He had to get that baby away from that psychopath.

“What is it you want again?” Danny asked faintly.

“Make me the new chief operating officer,” the woman answered.

“What?” The halfa choked out.

“They’re giving the position to Shwartz this monday. You need to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she continued evenly as if she wasn’t currently selling a baby in exchange for a fucking promotion.

“Yeah sure, deal,” Danny answered, eager to get away from her as soon as possible. 

“Give me your word,” she insisted.

“I give my word, I swear,” the halfa said. “Gimme the kid and you’ll get your job.”

The woman looked at him for a second before seemingly being satisfied. 

She extended the bundle of blankets towards him and handed him the swaddle baby. As soon as the kid was in his arms, Danny zipped away, fully intent on never seeing the woman again. He sure as hell was not getting her that promotion. Not that he would’ve been able to, what the hell, lady? At least research better before making a deal for your sister's baby!

Though in retrospect, it was a good thing she hadn't.

As Danny flew over a few buildings, he thanked the ancients the woman hadn’t had any ghost restraining tech, and only the summoning ritual. Which was a thing he had not been aware existed but he he would have to circle back to that because, right now, he had a whole ass baby nestled in his arms.

What the hell was his life.

Danny slowed down the flight once he felt he had put enough distance between them and the psycho and landed on a nice patch of green next to a road. He looked around and took notice that they’d gotten out of whatever that city had been, or at least the more populated part. He gave a quick look for people or cameras around before de-transforming. If he was spotted with a baby in his arms, his human look would help his chance of not getting shot.

The halfa started walking away from the road and towards the green vegetation. Still walking, he took a deep breath before looking down at the baby.

“You ok, kid?” Danny asked softly as their small (so so tiny!) face twitched in their sleep. “Oh you’re sleepy, huh?” he murmured gently. “Sleep tight sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Then he secured the blankets around the baby again, making sure none of the wind was reaching her. It was probably a her? The blankets were pink but he couldn’t know for sure since the psycho had only called her an it. Danny felt his lips curl. And as the night replayed in his mind, he felt the weight of the situation settle down on him.

Ancients what was he going to do?

He couldn’t pull up in Amity with a baby in his arms and no explanation of how he got her. He’d be arrested for kidnapping, which was technically absolutely what he was doing. But then again he couldn't just give that baby back to her aunt.

“What are you doing here?” came a voice from ahead of him.

Danny startled out of his thoughts to find himself facing an older man in a suit with a severe look on his face. The halfa instinctively brought the baby closer to his chest and the movement drew the older man’s eyes towards it.

Danny could see the realization of what it was he was holding settle and the man's face softened. He sighed deeply as his gaze went back up to meet the halfa’s.

“Despite what the media fancy printing, Wayne manor is not actually an orphanage.”

Danny had no idea what he was talking about so he just stayed silent and did his best not to look like someone who kidnapped babies.

The older man took the silence in stride. “If you need some help, there are programs to help young people in your situation,” he continued delicately.

Danny frowned as he tried to figure out what the guy meant by that before his eyes grew wide. “I’m not her dad!” He cried.

“I see,” the man said evenly as he looked back down at the bundle. Danny held her closer in response. “I see,” the guy repeated with a slight change in his voice.

The two held each other’s gaze for a moment before the older man sighed again. 

“Shall we continue this inside? It is getting windy and we wouldn’t want the little one to suffer, would we?” The man offered in a soothing tone.

Danny hesitated but one look at the kid’s face that had grown pink from the cold decided him.

“Ok,” Danny said. “Lead the way.”

And with that the three of them started  across the grassy lawn.

[rafeslutsblog]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ CONTENT ⊹ 18+, rafe x brattyfem!reader, silent treatment, smut (on his boat), p in v, creampie, degrading — m.list

slightly inspired by this tiktok edit of him saying “don’t shake your head”

first fic im sorry this sucks ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎აㅤ

Once again, you’re giving your boyfriend the silent treatment. You’ve lost count on how many times you have done this. You can’t help it, he has a habit of getting on your nerves whenever you’re having a bad day. Even when he tries to make amends by taking you out on his boat, your frustration doesn’t go away.

You were sitting in the cockpit while he opened another water. “Seriously? Keeping your mouth shut?” His tongue flicked out, touching the corner of his mouth, and his eyes met yours. You inhaled and a heavy sigh escaped your lips. “I’m just tired today.”

“And so you ignore me?” He replied in a slightly irritated tone. “You know how much I hate when you do this.”

He glared at you, his eyes narrowing as they roved over you. Despite the bright sun shining down on the two of you, the only thing you could really feel was his gaze. "Come on," he spoke, his voice sharp and impatient. "Say something. I'm done with your bullshit."

You shaked your head, “Don’t shake your head at me.” His jaw clenched and the way he tilted his head, gave away how tensed up he was too. Before you can begin to respond, he’s already sitting beside you with his hands at the nape of your neck turning your head to face him, “If you don’t start talking, then I’ll make you.” He said sternly.

The waves are quiet and calm. You bite your lip slightly, “Christ,” he muttered under his breath. You feel his hands go and spread your thighs apart easily. “Rafe-“ You began but he shoved two fingers in your mouth to the back of your throat. His warm breath fanning your face as spit pooled from your mouth.

“Oh so now you want to talk?” His sneered mockingly at you as you stared at his piercing blue eyes, “No, I don’t think so.” Your eyes watered as you gagged on his fingers, face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You tried to pull away, but this only leaded to him shoving his fingers deeper and deeper into your throat.

He grabbed a fistful of your shorts, yanking them down to your knees. With one swift move, he slid his hand to your crotch, cupping your wet pussy through your panties. "Fucking knew it, already so wet for me?"

You try to speak but get cut off, “I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked, his voice cold and harsh. His fingers kept working their magic inside your mouth, teasing and tormenting your sensitive flesh. You tried to speak again, but all that came out was a muffled sound. Your heart pounded inside your chest from the arousal you were beginning to feel. Even his presence alone was enough to make your breath quicken.

You could never resist rafes touch, and he knew that.

As your heart raced, rafe finally pulled his fingers from your mouth, leaving it feeling cold and empty. He quickly moved his hand downward pushing your underwear aside, rubbing his slick fingers against your swollen clit and into your wet pussy.

The corner of his lips curled up a little. You squirmed in pleasure as his finger entered you, pushing deeper and probing your wet folds. A soft moan escaped your lips, muffled by the sound of his fingers rubbing against your swollen clit.

"There we go,” rafe said, his voice husky with desire. "You're so fucking tight around my fingers. Let me hear you moan." And with that, he thrust his finger deeper inside you, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips. “Oh, God," you moaned, your head spinning with pleasure.

Rafe groaned as you clutched his wrist, your nails digging lightly into his skin. Your body arched into his touch, craving more. "Oh fuck," you gasped, feeling his fingers penetrate you even further. He let out a small laugh under his breath, “You like having your pussy stuffed with my fingers, don't you?" You moaned in response, not being able to form words.

He flexed his jaw, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. Subconsciously you licked your own, he stirred beside you and took out his fingers. He grabbed both your knees and laid you back on the soft cushion.

Looking down at you, he cupped the side of your face roughly. His other hand moved between your legs, spreading them apart once more. "You're so fucking beautiful," he breathed, “You look even better with my cock in you too.” He tapped the side of your face with his hand.

The anticipation was killing you as he stared deeply into your eyes, his hands roaming over your body possessively.

Your eyes darted as he started removing his pants. “Rafe, I’m sorry. I won’t ignore you again-but people might see," you managed to stutter out between breaths. "I don’t give a shit," he interrupted, his eyes darkening with lust. With that, he continued to unbuckle himself, his cock already hard and throbbing against his pants.

You gasped as he finally pushed inside of you, filling you up completely. He always stretched you past your limit. His hips almost immediately slammed against yours in a rhythm that made you moan out loud.

“Bought you clothes, brought you out here on this boat, got you lunch,” He groaned, pounding into you. “And you had to give me the silent treatment, huh?” He growled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hips driving relentlessly into yours.

You moaned loudly, your body shaking under his as you gave in to the pleasure he was giving you. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done that," you panted, your head rolling back more.

His eyes flashed with satisfaction as you apologized, your voice barely audible over the sound of your moans. “You’re sorry?” His fingers dig into her hips as he thrusts deeper into her, “But you’re always sorry isn’t that right? Fucking slut-“

His thrusts grew harder and more relentless as he took you on the boat's cockpit. You cried out his name in a mix of pleasure and pain, your body arching into him. "I'm really sorry, I was just-.." Your words trail off to a moan and you clung onto him, wrapping your hands around his biceps.

His pace picked up, and he started slamming into you with unrestrained force. You moaned loudly, practically screaming. Your walls clenching around him as he pounded into you.

You couldn’t be more thankful that no other boats were around. You wouldn’t know what to do if someone (or people) happened to see you getting dicked down by rafe cameron. Maybe at that point you wouldn’t care.

The pleasure was almost unbearable, and you were barely holding on. His hips pistoned against yours, driving his cock deeper into your core.

His hips stilled suddenly, causing you to gasp around his cock. He stared down at you, his eyes burning into yours. "Why did you stop?" you asked, surprise evident in your voice. His curtain bangs shifted onto his face as he’s panting.

"Oh, you want me to keep going?" He mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The grin on his face was wicked as he stared down at her. You feel yourself getting embarrassed, “Keep going..” you murmured.

"Can't hear you, use your words f’me.” He repeated.

Then, he punctuated his words with a hard thrust that buried his cock deep inside you once more before stopping again. You moaned and called out his name as he pushed deeper into you. You felt every inch of his length inside you, and you wanted more. "Please, keep going, rafe," you pleaded, arching your back in an invitation for him to take you even deeper.

“Keep begging," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes locked onto yours as he fought against the urge to lose control and just fuck you senseless right then and there.

“Please fuck me," you moaned, spreading your legs wider for him. Your body is aching for his touch, and your swollen pussy is ready to take him as deep as possible. "Fuck me, rafe," you lightly groan out, your voice trembling with desire. He always knows how to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

That was all it took. His thrusts became harder and faster, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart. His body moving him forward as his elbows found purchase on either sides of your head, pinning you beneath him.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the cockpit as rafe fucked you harder, his hips pounding into yours. Your moans and gasps filled the air, intertwining with his rough breathing as he took you to the edge.

He chuckles, watching your fucked out face and as your cunt parts and flares around him, fluttering walls hugging his huge cock. “Such a bratty little whore f’me.” He grunted, his voice thick with lust and satisfaction. “Fuck, yeah.”

You feel him pulsing inside you, you moan and beg for more, not wanting this pleasure to ever end. "More…" You whimpered, "Give me more."

Hearing your plea, rafes eyes glazed all over your face and body. His thrusts intensify further, his body practically shuddering with the effort to give you what you crave.

“See? Now you’re finally using that pretty mouth of yours." His voice raw with desire. “A little slutty pussy like this needs to be throughly fucked every day.” He laughed pounding into you, he reached down and began to rub your clit in rapid circles. The sensation is overwhelming, sending shockwaves of pleasure rolling throughout your body.

“Rafe, oh god, I'm so close…!” You moaned, your head thrown back in ecstasy as he continues to thrust and rub. Feeling the intensity of your response, rafe moaned in approval. He circled your clit faster and harder, drawing out cries of pure bliss from your lips.

"Almost there," he muttered through gritted teeth. His hips keep slamming into yours, causing sparks of pleasure to shoot through your entire body. "So fucking close," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire.

Your moans grow louder, echoing on the boat as you feel the impending climax. "I'm cumming! Oh god, don't stop!" Each word is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath and a quivering sensation throughout your body. Your pussy gripped tightly around him, pulling him down into you, milking his cock with every thrust. Your legs tremble and your body shivers, wracked with pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you. "Fuck, I’m cumming!”

Once you cum, rafes eyes rolled to the back of his head, a mix of lust and satisfaction etched on his face. With a low groan, he releases his seed into you, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. "Shit.." he drags out the word, his body trembling.

You lay there, your chest heaving as you catch your breath after the intense orgasm. You're twitching and aching all over, both from the pleasure you've just experienced and the fullness of your boyfriend still inside of you.

His pace slows down, his thrusts growing shallower, softer, as he catches his breath and began to come back down from the high.

“Mm..rafe,” you groaned softly, barely above a whisper. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him down closer to you.

He gazed down at you with loving eyes, his hair falling onto his face as he leaned in to kiss you. "That’s what happens when you ignore me," he murmured, a charming smile playing on his lips. His fingers run through your hair, pushing it back gently before he captures your lips in a kiss again.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Bared Fangs.

Commissioned by the very lovely @ohsotearful.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Modern/Serial Killer AU, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Blood/Gore, Reader Gets Hurt, Obsessive Behavior, Gun Violence, and Unhealthy Relationships. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as Childe asked you if you wanted to go outside.

Honestly, you should’ve known something was wrong as soon as he found you reading in front of his fireplace, as soon as that crooked, schoolboy grin found its way to his lips and he forewent his usual routine of draping himself on top of you like some muscled, zealously homicidal weighted blanket in favor of ruffling your hair and toying with the collar of the flannel you were wearing (his flannel, technically, but you tried not to let yourself acknowledge how accustomed you’d grown to wearing your captor’s clothes or, more troublingly, how long it’d been since the last time you’d felt disgusted by it). “Snow should be done for a couple hours,” he started, nodding towards the frost-coated windows. It might’ve been a more charming sight if not for the scratches carved into the surface of the glass – souvenirs from there the first time you got your hands on one of his axes. “I’m thinking of stepping out, doing a little hunting before the storm kicks up again. Wanna come with me?”

You narrowed your eyes at your book, trying to hide the way your heart beat a little faster at the suggestion of being able to leave his claustrophobic cabin. But, with Childe, you were usually better off staying safely tucked behind the bars of your rustic cage. “Is this going to be a normal hunting trip or a you hunting trip?”

He only hummed. “’fraid I don’t know what you mean by that, princess.”

“Are we going to be hunting animals, or…” You trailed off, swallowing down the bitter taste that came with remembering why you were here. “… or, you know. People, or whatever.”

“This time of year?” He let out an airy laugh, like you’d asked to go skiing in the middle of summer. “There’s nobody on the mountain ’cept me and you.”

Still, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to try and think beyond your near-overwhelming desire to be anywhere but here. Childe was a murderer, a sadist, a kidnapper, but he wasn’t the type to play mind games. He tended to divide his reality between the world outside – where people could be hunted like quarry, their bodies left to rot in tents and rivers with only the occasional token taken as a keepsake – and the world inside the walls of his cabin – where he sat you down in front of a low-burning fire and told you stories about ice-fishing with his siblings and pouted when you admit his (admittedly, not entirely inedible) cooking could use a little more seasoning. After that first night – the worst night of your fucking life – he seemed to want to keep you resigned to the latter, at least until he came home covered in blood and desperate for something warm and familiar to fuck until he passed out.

Eventually, you sighed, closing your book and sitting up. “Fine. When do we leave?”

His grin widened, head lulling forward as he pressed a kiss into the top of your head. “The front door’s already unlocked. I’ll give you a head start, a full five minutes. Actually, make it ten – just to make it a little more fun for you.”

 There was a beat of silence, then another. “Childe, you’re making it sound like you’re—”

“Like I said, there’s nobody on the mountain but me and you.” He pulled away, turning on his heel. “I’ll be nice, too – won’t use anything with more than a twenty-foot range.”

“But, you— you can’t just—”

“Tick-tock.” He clicked his tongue, winking at you over his shoulder. “Unless you’d rather cut straight to the good part.”

You should’ve known something was wrong, and now, running through the frozen wilderness desperately lost and barely dressed, your ten minutes spent and a killer undoubtedly chasing you down, you were paying the price for it.

You didn’t have time to be tactical. The snow was fresh enough to make every interruption unbearable obvious, meaning that – even if you were willing to stop and spare the seconds it’d take to hide your tracks, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Your only option was to run, but even that was easier said than done. Childe preferred to keep you in a state of hand-crafted domestic bliss, meaning what few clothes you did have were either picked out by or borrowed from him. Currently, all that separated you from the cold was his flannel, an oversized shirt, and a pair of his boots that you’d snagged on your way out. The chill snapped at your cold legs like the teeth of some unseen predator, the frigid air burning holes in your lungs, but the thought of what Childe would do when he caught you was enough to keep your feet moving, to keep you sprinting blindly through the forest. He wouldn’t kill you. You had to believe that he wouldn’t kill you, but—

A high-pitched holler, the sound of branches snapping underfoot and foliage being pushed aside somewhere behind you. You hadn’t stopped running after your first trembling steps away from the cabin, and yet, he couldn’t have been more than a few hundred feet behind you – half a mile, at your most generous guess. You started to curse under your breath, then thought better of it, biting down on your bottom lip with enough force to draw blood and pivoting to the left, where the forest seemed to be just a little thicker. If you couldn’t get away from him, you could at least try to hide before he got to you.

It was a haphazard, half-baked plan that was cruelly and immediately cut short as your foot caught on a root hidden by the snow, tearing away your right boot and leaving you sprawled over the frozen ground. Dampness sunk into your thin clothes, and you shut your eyes, trying to listen for Childe’s footsteps, but there was a reason none of his victims ever seemed to hear him coming. The forest’s minimal white noise was enough to swallow him entirely, the sound of birdsong and distant car engines disguising his presence despite your best attempts to—

Your realization was delayed, but intense.

Cars.

Cars meant roads. Cars meant civilization. Cars meant people, people who could take you away from here, away from Childe. You clambered to your feet, but failed to take so much as a step before a sudden, stabbing pain bit into your calf, your leg immediately buckling underneath you. You would’ve fallen entirely if it hadn’t been for the adrenaline running through your system, numbing the agony and choking the ragged scream that threatened to rise from the pit of your chest into a cracked whimper. It was one of Childe’s arrows – you would’ve been able to recognize that black steel from a mile away – but you didn’t let yourself linger on the implications. With grit teeth and balled fists, you limped forward, leaving a thin trail of crimson in your wake. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been looking, but it was there – a thin, wobbling, unpaved dirt road, only marked by two thin rows of tire tracks that sliced harshly through the otherwise unmarred blanket of snow. God, you never thought you’d be so happy to see dirt.

There wasn’t time to think. You stumbled out of the woods and into the road, the arrow’s head sinking that much deeper with every stuttering movement. The car you’d heard was still there, too; a by-the-numbers sedan, only a few hundred feet down the road. You threw up your arms up, then thought better of it; cupping your shaking hands around your mouth. You moved to call out, but whatever you might’ve said was stolen away from you as something dark flashed across your peripheral and another arrow planted itself in your right shoulder. This time, you crumbled like a dead leaf – broken into pieces by a morning gale.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Childe emerge from the tree line, his crossbow still in-hand. As he came to stand in front of you, your gaze shifted back to the car. You watched, your mind buzzing with pain, as it disappeared around a sharp bend, never so much as slowing down.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you heard Childe coo, wiping away the tears flowing down your cheeks before they could freeze against your skin. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, his voice low with a painful edge. “I guess I cheated, huh? Couldn’t help it – just knew you’d look so cute all bruised up and bleeding.”

Dropping his crossbow carelessly, he fell to your height. He was dressed for one of his usual hunts; a cut-off shotgun slung over his back, a hunting knife sheathed at his hip. The leather casing of the latter pressed into your side as he dipped lower, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pressing a long, open-mouthed kiss into the base of your throat. You felt his knee settle between your thighs, and weakly, your hands found their way to his chest. “Not here,” you mumbled, more afraid of the chill quickly seeping under your skin than being seen. “It hurts, Childe. I—I think you hit something imp—”

“I’ll be fast.” Another kiss, this one to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His calloused hands skirted over your sides, then your waist, hiking the thin fabric of your oversized shirt up to your midriff. You were already past the point of total numbness, and yet, the rough gravel beneath the snow cut harshly into your exposed skin. Rather than distracting you from the pain in your calf, your shoulder, it only seemed to draw more attention to your bleeding wounds, only seemed to make it harder to ignore the dull heat of Childe’s mouth against your chest. “Gotta take you out more often. You’re always beautiful, but I didn’t know you’d look this pretty.”

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. His arrow burnt into the tattered skin of your calf as his hands fell to your legs, groping at the plush of your thighs playfully before shifting his attention to the fly of his jeans. You knew what he wanted, he’d always been transparent, but the sound of shifting fabric, the sight of his rosy-tipped, stiff cock pressing flush against his stomach – that was enough for the loose coil of dread writhing in the pit of your chest to tighten into a tight, jagged knot of pure terror. You tried to sit up, to make your refusal that much more apparent, but Childe only caught you by your uninjured shoulder, shoving you into the ground with enough force to earn a pained scowl, a fractured whimper. His only response was a wordless, vaguely sympathetic noise, a softened lull to his wide smile. “No skipping out on this, babydoll. I can’t guarantee you’ll end up in one piece if I have to wait ‘till we get home.”

It was a fair warning, but anything he could have said would’ve been lost on you. Your heart was beating in your ears, blocking out any other sound. Pools of red blood and piles of limp bodies flashed across your vision and desperately, futilely, you clawed at the hand on your shoulder, kicked at his chest, thrashed underneath him like an animal unaware that resistance would only make the predator want to drive its teeth that much deeper. It was more Childe’s divided attention than your strength, but your heel found his side and, just for a moment, he slipped, letting out a soft grunt as the hand pinning you down fell away. You were scrambling onto your knees in a second, attempting to get your feet underneath you in another, but your little stunt was cut short as Childe lashed out, wrapping his arm around your neck and forcing your stomach against the ground. There was no whimpering, anymore – just a ragged, ear-piercing scream as his free hand found the arrow in your shoulder, tearing it out of you in one clean, unfaltering motion. His only response came in the form of a throaty moan; deep and terrible and followed immediately by the feeling of his cock against your dry cunt. You would’ve begged him to stop, offered to let him do anything he wanted to you if he just didn’t do this, but he didn’t give you time to bargain. Without hesitation, he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.

Trembling sobs tore at your throat and past your lips, tears now flowing unabashedly down your cheeks. Childe kept his full weight against your back as he fucked into you with short, sharp thrusts – never happy unless he was burying himself in the deepest pocket of your poor, freezing pussy. Rather than desensitizing you, letting you fall back into some distant state of nonexistence, the snow seemed to burn where it was pressed into your cheek, your chest. You wished he would’ve taken off the rest of your clothes. You wished he would’ve just shot his stupid arrows into your skull and put you out of your misery.

It shouldn’t have felt good, you didn’t want it to feel good, but your body didn’t know that. Your cunt clenched and drooled around him, trying in vain to turn his assault into something you could enjoy, but the way he grunted into your ear snuffed out any pleasure you might’ve been able to feel. “Tryin’ to pull me back in,” he muttered, his voice already airy, already strung out. You couldn’t help but wonder if, had you only been able to run from him for another minute, he would’ve found something else to shove his dick into and left you out here to freeze to death. “Is that your goal? Wanna – Fuck, wanna help me warm you up?”

His hands fell to your hips, pulling your ass flush against his hips and letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much more brutally. Your injured leg grated against the dirt of the road and you cried out, your voice ragged and barely coherent. “St— Hurts, stop, stop, please, stop—”

“That’s it, always making such pretty sounds for me.” He buried his face in the dip of your shoulder. “Sometimes, it feels like all I wanna do it cut you open and crawl—”

He was interrupted by the dull roar of an approaching engine and something brightened inside of you, your eyes shifting towards the road, towards the well-beaten pick-up truck speeding in your direction. The breaks screeched as you and Childe came into the driver’s view, and for a second, you let yourself go slack underneath him, relief overwhelming your better judgement.

Childe wasn’t so sentimental.

His shotgun was in his hand before you could so much as process that he’d moved. Wordlessly, he fired off two shots; the first to the windshield on the driver’s side and the second to one of the front tires. You watched on helplessly as your last hope for salvation bucked, swerved, then veered off of the road entirely, catching on a snowbank and turning over once before crashing into the trunk of an oak that failed to so much as shake under the force of the collision. It was quieter than you’d expected it to be, the only sounds that of shattering glass and crunching metal. If there were survivors, no one screamed, or called for help, or came stumbling out of the wreckage. Childe’s breath hitched in his throat, his pace growing that much more erratic as he buckled into you – his pointed canines finding the tender junction at the base of your throat and burying themselves in your skin. It was less a love-bite and more an effort to eat you alive. What little blood he didn’t lap up washed over your chest, melting the frost and mixing into the snow beneath you. “Look—” He groaned, tried and failed to pull away from you. His voice reverberated against the curve of your neck as he went on. “Look what you turn me into, princess. Got me making all kinds of messes for you.”

Blood. Bodies. The taste of his cum on your tongue as your friends bled out under the same roof. You would’ve choked the air in your lungs if you’d been able to breathe, but there was no point lingering on pleasant hypotheticals. There were no distractions from the feeling of Childe’s hips grating against yours, the way his cock twitched as settled against you. A guttural moan tore past his lips as something thick and searing flooded into you, and you refused to let yourself acknowledge that this was the warmest you’d felt in days.

You stayed there, limp and frozen and miserable, as Childe pulled away from you, pulled out of you. Your eyes fell shut as he stumbled to his feet, your skin too numb to feel anything aside from the pressure of his arms around your motionless body. He pulled you against his chest, then let out a low whistle. “Might’ve gone a little overboard there. Sorry ‘bout that, princess.” A low chuckle, a gentle squeeze. “I just can’t help it, not when it comes to you. You’ll forgive me after a warm bath, right?”

You didn’t answer. The arrow in your calf must’ve fallen out, or maybe not – you couldn’t feel anything below your knees. Your hands felt like dead weight too, utterly disconnected from anything you might’ve used to control them, but every drop of panic, every ounce of horror – that all paled in comparison to the never-ending pit of pitch-black loathing that formed in your chest as you stared up at Childe. You hated him, wanted to see him torn apart with his own stockpile of weapons, but you really couldn’t blame him. Not for this, at least.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as the monster bared its fangs.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

can we make this work?

carlos sainz jr x norris!reader

summary - carlos falls for lando's sister, lando forbids it, you and carlos push to get your brother and his best friend back

masterlist

-

“...and this is my sister, y/n,” lando proceeds to finish off the family tree of introductions towards his spanish teammate. carlos’ eyes meet yours and you both feel it, the pull towards each other.

“hola, y/n” carlos gives a shy handshake in your direction as you do not fail to leave his eye contact. you whisper a quiet ‘hi’ back towards him and he flashes you a smile, you returning it with ease. lando narrows his concern at your interaction and interrupts quickly, pulling you away from his teammate. 

“c’mon, y/n, i have so much more to show you around here,” 

“calm down, lan,” you chuckle at your little brother, “i’m here all weekend, you do know that right?”

“ha - ha,” he mocks back to you, “i just don’t need my sister running off with a certain spanish driver all weekend when i haven’t seen her in a month,”

“you’re right,” you sigh and glance at lando, “i should go visit my boyfriend, fernando, while i can get the chance-”

“you know who i meannnn,” lando whines, all while continuing to drag you through the paddock. 

“lan, i just met carlos, nothing’s happening,” you laugh again at his ridiculous accusations, “how slutty do you even think i am?”

“it’s not all about little miss y/n, i saw the way he looked at you, i have my doubts but he is off limits, i swear to go-”

“wait,” you cut him off sharply, “how’d he look at me?”

“oh SHUT IT”

-

“shhh, hermosa,” carlos whispered into your ear, “can’t have your brother hearing, hm?” you could only shake out a nod as your boyfriend continued to ravish your neck in between kissing, sucking, and biting. small moans escaped here and there as carlos continued to push you against the door of his driver's room. 

it had been two years since that day you both had met. ever since then, you both were enamored with each other. your actual relationship began about a year ago when carlos moved to ferrari. before then, it was random hookups when you were back home in england as he was there for mclaren, or when you would make your appearance at races. 

now, though, now, you are happier than ever. your work had you in italy for the past five years and it had never felt fully at home. until he moved there. you connected quite easily again and the attraction took over, leading to the beautiful beginning of your serious relationship. carlos sainz had a way of making you feel comfortable, but not bored. loved, but not suffocated. he had taken over your heart and you had no intention of kicking him out. but there was an issue. your shit of a little brother. and little did either of you know, your perfect bubble of love would be popped very soon. 

two knocks was all it took before lando pushed the door open into the drivers room. you pushed carlos away from you as fast as you could but there was no use. lando was fuming. 

“what. the hell. is going on here?” your brother muttered out in shock. 

“lan, i can expla-” you began before lando gave you a look and you immediately shut down. 

“i’m not asking you, y/n. i’m asking him,” the mclaren driver pointed directly to your boyfriend, accusing finger waving toward his face. 

“okay, lando, just take it easy,” carlos attempts to calm your brother, he pulls his hands up in defense and lando keeps pushing toward him.

“no. no, i am not going to ‘just take it easy’. you both have lied to me,” he continues as he looks rapidly between the both of you, “but you,” he then turns his disgust to carlos, “i know what you do to your girlfriends. that is not touching my sister,”

“lando, please, i am a grown woman who makes her own decisions,” you push through his accusation, “you are not going to be able to protect me from everything and you haven’t protected me from everything. for fuck’s sake lan, dad didn’t even act this way when he found out,”

“what?” lando stands shocked in front of you.

“i said, dad didn-”

“I HEARD!” your brother cuts you off quickly, “dad knows before me? who else knows?”

“well mum for starters, and cisca and-”

“oh my god, y/n! you told everyone before me?”

“well i knew you’d act this way! which is crazy by the way,” you finish your telling off as both your boyfriend and you anxiously wait for his response. 

“both of you,” he responds quietly, “both of you just leave me alone,” lando proceeds to make his way to the door and he solemnly shakes his head in defeat. once the door is shut, carlos faces you with the same expression evident in his own eyes. 

“shouldn’t we go after him?”

“no, he’s been like this since he was little. he needs his time to himself to think,” you shake your head, “are you alright?”

carlos takes your hands in his and pulls you closer to him, “i’m fine. i’m sorry, mi amor, i’ll fix this,”

“it’s not your fault, carlos. you have nothing to apologize for. maybe my parents will talk some sense into him,” you glance up at him and place a soft kiss onto his lips before continuing, “are we, you know, okay?”

“si, si,” carlos nods fervently, “of course, i don’t want anything between us to change,”

“okay, love, good. neither do i,”

-

a week had gone by and neither you nor carlos had heard from lando. you were beyond concerned until your parents informed you he was okay, just needed to process. you took their advice to let it all just sit, but carlos could tell you were getting antsy. even though lando and you had your differences and times apart, you were like his second mother. he went to you for anything big in his life. you were his role model, his best friend. and he was yours. the time apart was killing you. 

with that, carlos took it upon himself to fix the situation. ultimately he felt it was his fault, with lando’s words continuously echoing in his ears, ‘i know what you do to your girlfriends. that is not touching my sister’. carlos can admit he’s had a rocky past with girls before, but you were different. he cared on a different level than he ever had. and the ring that was safely tucked into the bottom drawer of his dresser, hidden under a few pairs of socks for extra measure, said beyond otherwise. 

you sat up when you watched your boyfriend grab his keys and jacket, making his way to the door of the hotel room you were staying in before the race weekend. 

“where are you headed, love?” you gently ask in his direction. 

“i’m going out to see charles, do you want to join? it’ll only be for a minute with our press officer,” carlos lies with ease, knowing you wouldn’t want to join him for a boring meeting. and just as he predicted, you scrunched up your face in disgust and shook your head. your boyfriend then let out a laugh and bent down to say goodbye in the form of a kiss, you hummed into it and smiled as he pulled away. with your light whisper of ‘hurry back, i’ll miss you’ carlos just smiles and nods as he heads out. 

instead of making his way to charles’ room at 205, he makes his way up to the third floor to room 307, where your brother was. two knocks once again, oh the irony, and lando is pulling the door open to face carlos. he rolls his eyes and attempts to slam the door but your boyfriend brings that to a halt. 

“wait, wait. lando please just listen,” carlos pleads to your brother.

“what?” lando speaks sharply, “you’ve got one minute and the clock is ticking, so let’s go,”

“lando, please. y/n and i have been serious for a year now, i have no intention of hurting her,”

“a year?! a year. you are not helping your case here, you both have been lying to me for a year?!”

“okay, lando i understand why you’re upset but please just hear me out,” carlos sighs at your brothers dramatics, “i love your sister, i am serious about your sister. we didn’t tell you because she needed time. i respect her, and her wishes. but please, i am begging you to understand that i love and cherish her,”

“what do you want me to do? carlos i have seen you leave a trail of broken hearts in your wake, you are not adding my sister to that,”

“but i won’t. i promise. would i have bought this if i wasn’t serious?” with that question carlos pulls the engagement ring he had bought you out of his pocket and pushes it toward your brother, “now i’ve been waiting until we’re both ready, and i still need your parents blessing, but i bought it because i am serious about your sister. i love her, lando,”

“you big sap,” lando brushes off the moment with a chuckle, “fine, i understand. but if you do hurt her i swear-”

“you’ll kill me i know,” carlos finishes for him, “now can you please come with me to talk to her, she misses you much more than she’s willing to admit,”

“ya i will, i’ve missed her too,”

“i know, the norris genes are filled with stubbornness i swear,” carlos laughs along with his now friend as they head down to the second floor in order to appease your heart and mind. 

as you hear carlos unlock the hotel room door, you jump off the couch in order to greet him, yet falter as you stare into your brothers eyes. 

“what are you doing here?” you ask softly.

“i came because carlos spoke to me,” at lando’s admission your eyes find your boyfriends and he gives you an apologetic smile, “listen, y/n. i overreacted. i just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be hurt,”

“i am a grown woman, lan. hell, i’m older than you! i practically raised you following you around to races. i can take care of myself, make my own decisions thank you very much,” your voice level remains calm but lando can tell you’re irritated. 

“i’m sorry, y/n. i really am,”

“then tell me and carlos you’re happy for us,” you plainly state. 

“what? why-”

“just say it, i need to hear you say it,” the irritation comes out a bit in your push for approval as you stare down your little brother.

“i’m really happy for you both, y/n. now can i have my big sister back? please?” you launch yourself into his arms at his question and laugh with a bit of pride and a lot of joy. 

“she never left, lando,” carlos adds on from a few feet away where he stands. both the norris siblings look over at carlos and beckon him closer into the hug. 

and to that, with your two favorite boys at peace, your heart beat practically out of your chest. 

[blueicequeen19]

Warnings: angst, jealousy, anal, squirting, fingering, taunting Rafe 😮‍💨

“You don’t hate me. I can see it in your eyes.” Rafe murmurs in your ear before you step back and out of his embrace. You swallow the lump in your throat as you look from your parents to his. They’re still engaged in their conversation, probably gushing over the latest gulf course Ward built. So they don’t notice the daggers you shoot at Rafe while sipping your champagne.

“How’s the University of..?” Rafe starts, pretending like he doesn’t know what college you ran away to.

“Tampa. And it’s great.” You respond, downing the last of your champagne and stopping a cute blonde waiter for another. He gives you a flirty smile that you return before facing Rafe again. His eyes are narrowed in a glare, that cocky smirk gone.

“How’s living in your father’s shadow?” You murmur under your breath, shooting your own glare back at him. Rafe takes a step forward, putting him intimately close. A move that earns an approving glance from your father.

“Why don’t we skip the theatrics and we just skip to me fucking the attitude out of you.” Rafe growls low in his throat, sending a shiver up your spine and heat between your thighs. You didn’t like the Rafe that was trying to win his father’s approval. You craved the one that was angry and took what he wanted.

“That’ll never happen.” You hiss, bringing your glass to your lips but he snags it, dumping the contents in the grass with a disapproving look.

“I give it two hours.”

“Two hours for what?”

Rafe cups your face affectionately, swiping his thumb sweetly over your cheek even as your body goes still. Your parents want the two of you together but they don’t know the history. They don’t know how toxic the “relationship” with Rafe had been.

“Two hours until you’re pinned beneath me, begging me not to stop pounding that sweet pussy.” Rafe murmurs, his breath meeting your lips as you suddenly forget how to breathe.

“When was the last time you came as hard as you did with me?” Rafe taunts, tipping your chin up and ghosting his thumb over your parted lips.

You hated the effect he had on you. How a single touch had your brain short circuiting and your pussy aching to be filled. But you refused to give him the satisfaction. So you turned your head, locking eyes with the cute blonde waiter across the room as he scooped up empty glasses, and shot him a wink. Rafe stiffened as you looked up at him under your lashes with a daring smirk.

“I can make myself cum harder than you ever did. In fact, I’m pretty sure that Pogue could fuck me in ways you’ve never even dreamed of.” You leaned forward to brush a kiss against his cheek, making sure to leave a red stain, to get your parents off your back for the night before pulling back. Rafe’s eyes were ablaze, his nostrils flared as he tried to reign in his temper. “See you around, Rafey.” You shrugged one shoulder before turning and strutting back inside, knowing that he wouldn’t able to look away from the added sway to your hips.

It wasn’t long before you’d made it upstairs only to be shoved into an empty room, a strong hand around your throat and your dress yanked up as you become pinned to the wall.

A deep growl met your ear as he took your ass in punishment for your teasing. You only briefly wondered what he was using for lube but it felt too good to care. His large fingers force their way into your mouth to muffle your cries while the other hand dips between your legs, stroking your clit until tears and droll are running down your face.

“What’s the matter, slut? Do you need to cum? Need me to fill all your pathetic little holes?” You all but collapse against the wall, your entire body trembling with need when he decides to shove two fingers into your dripping pussy, filling you completely.

A sob rips from your lips as he curls them, hooking that spongey sweet spot that suddenly has you seeing stars.

His mocking laugh meets your ear as he slams harder and harder against your ass until your orgasm gushes from you, soaking you both.

There was nothing better than being on Rafe Cameron’s bad side.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Eddie requests, you ask? 🧐

What about something where the reader pines for Eddie from afar (maybe she’s not super close with him but share mutual friends) and over time has to stand aside as Eddie hooks up with other girls. Perhaps Eddie is in a bit of a fuckboy era and is a little teasing (or at times harsh) to the reader. Something happens where the reader’s feelings are put on blast (oof, embarrassing) and choices have to be made on how things move forward.

It could be an angst —> fluff or pure angst depending on where you see it going!

cw: hurt/comfort, mention of vomit and throwing up

You see him flirting with yet another girl as you stand behind the counter at Family Video. You hate how pathetic you feel pining for someone who will never feel the same way about you. You know he won't because you're not his type. You know you're not because you've seen the girls he goes out with. They're nothing like you and you've come close to changing your entire look just to make him notice you, but Robin and Steve convinced you not to.

They're laughing now and you have to turn away because you want so badly for it to be you. So badly that it makes you feel sick to your stomach. You hate the way it makes you feel and you hate how you're so hung up on someone who doesn't even know you exist.

Steve sees you turn away and his heart aches for you. You're one of his best friends and he just wishes that Eddie would finally see you for the wonderful woman you are.

And he wants the two of you to get together. He wants it so bad. Not only because he wants you to be happy, but also because he thinks you'll be good for Eddie. The one he settles down with and maybe even eventually marries. He's rooting for the two of you and he really hopes it works out.

But the thing was, Eddie had no fucking clue. And it wasn't that he didn't like you, he barely knew you. He actually thought you were sweet and was no stranger to waving at you or even greeting you when he sees you around town.

Eventually, they break apart and head to the counter where the girl puts a DVD on the counter as you scan it while Steve is behind you typing some stuff into the computer as he enters the returns into it.

The girl, Molly, maybe? Or was it Martha? Definitely something with an M, hands you what she owes you while staring at you with her eyes narrowed, trying to figure out where she knows you from. As you hand her back her change, it hits her and her face lights up as she gets the realization.

"Now I know where I know you from," she says like it's been killing her not knowing. You wonder what she's talking about and nothing can prepare you for the words that leave her mouth. "You're the girl who has a crush on Eddie here," she laughs, jerking her thumb over her shoulder as the man behind her. The way she says it doesn't sound like he's making fun of you, but you still feel your cheeks heating up.

"All the girls are talking about it. We think it's really cute, by the way. I um, I saw your notebook when you let me borrow it one time. It had his name scribbled all over it with hearts. So adorable."

Your expression matches Eddie's as your eyes widen in unison. His cheeks are bright red and you feel yours getting hot. You don't even know what to do or say. Your mouth is dry and now you feel like you're going to throw up.

And before you can stop yourself, you're running out of the store, your stomach churning as you hurry to your car. You unlock the door and Eddie's racing after you, hurrying to where you're opening the door and pushing it closed so you can't leave. You whip around and stare at him, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you looked at him.

"What do you want, Eddie?" You ask, wiping your tears from your eyes and his hands move to rest on your shoulders, leaning closer to you, his lips capturing yours. You gasp into his mouth, but eventually melt into him, not able to resist the exact thing you've been wanting for months.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetheart," he says as he pulls away but only for a second before he's kissing you again.

"It's okay," you reply, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

"It's you," he mumbles against your lips. "It's always been you."

"It's always been you too," you tell him as he pushes you against the car gently, wanting to do this exact thing for hours. And if he gets his way, he will.