#reminding himself to breathe as his tongue darts out to wet his lips

[dipperscavern]

hmm just thinking about mentioning to jon that his hands look cold. he gives you a bit of a quizzical look as he nods. you’re at castle black, near a 700ft wall made of ice — he’s willing to bet that everyone’s hands are cold.

but he doesn’t have time to say any of that, cause you’re reaching for his right hand and slotting it between your thighs.

[samsno1]

Just finished it and i loved it so much! could i request a part 2 to Dream Of Me..?

Dream Come True

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

IT'S HERE!!!!! okay, so many of you asked for a p.2 and it's here, finally. Thank you to everyone who left comments under Dream Of Me and now you have the second part. By the way, I think this shows my slight (huge) obsession with Sam's muscles and my lack of knowledge in blowjobs

Read "Dream Of Me" here

Summary: Sam's avoiding you, he's weird ever since he woke up and you had to question him about it sometime.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected piv (which is fake and i do not encourage), oral (m. and f. recieving), nipple sucking, fingering (sort of), marking, angsty??? maybe, kissing, cursing, use of y/n, dean is done with these two, english is not my first language, NOT PROOF READ, ALL MISTAKES ARE MINE

WC: 11.6K (shhh, don't talk about it)

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As soon as Sam arrived in the library and saw you standing there in those jeans that did wonders for your legs he immediately felt the room grow hotter. He felt like a high school boy who had just hit puberty with the way he was feeling today or as if it was the first time he dreamed with a woman in his bed – or other places for that matter. He did have feelings for you for some time, but everytime he thought about you, he thought about the sweetness of your smile or the way your laugh sounded when you were slightly drunk. Not about how loud he could make you scream his name.

Sam wasn’t innocent, and neither were you. He knew that you weren’t – he had heard, when the motel walls were too thin, the bed hitting against it and some curses of pleasure out of your mouth. And you most definitely knew he wasn’t, telling you and Dean the history he had with Ruby in excruciating detail even made you feel tingly inside.

Sam tried, badly, to be nonchalant about it around you but it was so difficult. Your plump lips moving as you explained the case, sometimes your tongue darting out to wet it, were driving him insane. He paid much more attention to the way you spoke to him with your hand on his shoulder during the drive to the case, your breath lightly hitting his face and reminding him of the hot kiss you shared in his head, your hand practically burning on his skin through his flannel. And when you finally found a motel to crash in for the time you stayed there, you started loading the gun barrels inside the boys room while Sam attempted to research and Dean was reading lore books on the small table the room had. The way you worked your fingers with your gun was so erotic without you even wanting it to be. Sam was on the verge of breaking as he stared at you, who was oblivious to his looks.

But one person that wasn’t oblivious was Dean Winchester. When he looked up from his book to Sam, ready to ask him a question, he almost immediately closed his mouth when he noticed Sam was doing anything but research. He looked at the way his brother was sitting, with an elbow on the table, resting his head on his hand, torso slightly turned in your direction, eyes trained on your hands. Dean then looked at you and was shocked that you hadn’t even acknowledged Sam’s stare. He smirked to himself as he shook his head in disbelief.

Of course Dean knew about Sam’s feelings. He got him to admit to his crush on you one night where the brothers were in a bar alone and you were in a hunt by yourself. Sam had just hung up his phone after talking to you, his slightly slurred words made you chuckle in the other end of the line and, when Sam put his phone down on the table, he wrapped one hand in his beer and sighed dreamily, staring mindlessly at his thumb that brushed the bottle left to right.

“Her laugh is so beautiful, it matches her” He murmured and Dean almost choked on his own beer, eyes widening at his brother, eyebrows furrowed. As if Sam had realized he actually said it out loud and not just thought, he looked over at Dean, face to face with his brother’s amused look. Sam just sighed disappointedly, knowing that there was no way he was escaping this, not even giving the ‘I’m just drunk!’ excuse. So, he just accepted it “Don’t tell her…”

As if all dots connected, Dean leaned back on his chair, a grin on his face as he thought about the interactions you and Sam had with each other and how it was actually quite obvious. “You like her?” Dean asked the obvious and Sam just nodded. After that, as the amazing older brother he is, Dean promised he wouldn’t utter a word to you about this and he was keeping his promise up to this day, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease the youngest about it…

“Hey Sam, have you found anything?” Dean spoke up and that seemed to wake Sam up from his trance. He cleared his throat and desperately tried to make it seem like he was concentrated fully on his assigned task.

“Um, y-yeah, all the victims died of blood loss and.. and there are bite marks…” Sam said, making you look up at him too, throwing your hair back with a movement of your head. Your hands had stopped working on the guns and you got up from the bed you were sitting, leaving the weapon behind. You walked until you were behind Sam and, using his body for support, putting your left hand over his right shoulder, you leaned in to look at the screen, confirming the information yourself.

Sam stiffened up the moment you got closer to him. With the way you were leaning in – your hand on him again – made him take a deep breath to stay put. He had his eyes glued on the laptop screen because he feared that if he glanced at you in any way he wouldn’t be able to control his most primal needs – A.K.A. avoid his sinful thoughts to take over and a boner to rise. He could feel your warmth behind him and, as you nodded and walked away, completely oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions in his head, he finally felt like he could breathe.

“It’s clearly vampires. Thank God we didn’t have to turn libraries upside down to figure this one out” You said with a slight smile to Dean, your arms crossed in front of you. He closed his book with a thud, thankful for not having to do much more. You turned back to Sam who, at this point, had also closed his laptop and seemed lost in thought.

To get your suit in your bag – that you left over the other bed –, you had to go past Sam and, as you did, you brushed a hand over his arm and got closer to his face, snapping him out of his thoughts. You lowered your voice a little, for Dean not to hear what you were about to say, a worried frown in your face.

“Hey, are you doing okay? You seem off” You ask, slightly tilting your head, your eyes searching into his for any kind of discomfort, be it emotional or physical.

Alarms went off inside Sam’s head and, as soon as he could gather his thoughts together, he suddenly stood up, making you pull away from him and widen your eyes, startled. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and he swallowed deeply, trying to moist his dry throat.

“I’m fine” He mumbles before going to the bathroom, brushing past you in a hurry, his arm bumping against your shoulder. You stare at the shut door once he locks himself inside, mouth agape and an offended look on your face. You turn to face Dean again, questioning him with a look. Dean shrugs his shoulders and gets up from his chair.

At this point you felt kind of…hurt. You had done nothing to Sam, not that you were aware of, and your face dropped. Dean felt the need to guarantee you that it was probably nothing but even he was confused. Sam tended to long to be beside you, to touch you, or have any excuse for you to touch him. He swallowed his jealousy when you had asked Dean once to take his shirt off to care for his wounds. That day, as you stitched the gash on his brother's abdomen, Sam stared daggers at Dean, who felt the need to reassure him that you were all Sam’s, that Dean saw you as a little sister and nothing else. 

This kind of avoidance towards you was weird to the point even you felt affected by it. You weren’t one to take things to the heart – you’re a hunter for fucks sake – but when it came to the boys, especially Sam, you felt worse than ever. They were often harsh, either with each other or with other people. Of course they had to be tough and mean when it came to it due to their line of work but, behind closed doors, they were the sweetest people you’ve ever met, always caring for you and one another and often sacrificing their own comfort – and sometimes their lives – so other people can sleep without worrying about what’s lurking in the night.

Still, it hurt when you became a victim of their temper and Sam being the one shutting you out this time was not only unexplainable but also like a punch to the gut. Let's say the tall, muscular and smart guy Sam Winchester was had you falling for him quickly – and, soon, harder – than you expected. He always tried to be as sweet as he could be and as understandable. He had a natural instinct to comfort the victims you guys often talked to, always the one to do the talking. You had noticed the way he approached the subject with care, especially if the victim was related to the interviewed in any way, and had taken that as a mental note. Hey, he’s good with words. 

But, Sam could also be firm and assertive when it came to it. Once, while you and him were interrogating a guy who wasn’t cooperating at all with you, even when you both were disguised as FBI, Sam snapped. His big hand came with full force against the table, his palm facing down and a loud bang echoing through the small room. It startled you to the point where you jumped slightly, eyes wide as you looked at your ‘partner’. Sam was fuming. His nostrils were flared and his eyebrows were low, casting a shadow over his eyes. He slowly leaned in closer to the guy's face, a wicked grin emerging on his face.

“Look…” He started, voice low, raspy. He gently pulled his suit aside, secretly showing the man his shiny, silver gun safely resting against his hip. You watched as the dude swallowed harshly and his eyes stared at the weapon. “If you won’t cooperate with us…” Sam straightened up, holding both his hands behind his back as he started to walk until he stood beside the guy. He leaned towards his ear, the guy completely frozen. “We are going to rip the truth out of you” He whispered.

You had struggled to keep your composure. The way Sam showed his power over the man – who ended up telling both of you his side of the story after the threat – was distracting. It was safe to say you had discovered something about yourself that day. You had sat the whole ride back to the motel with your legs crossed to numb the throbbing between your thighs as you imagined Sam talking to you that way, in different settings. A cold shower was barely enough to calm you down.

The mix of all these things and other little stuff about the younger brother is what made him special to you. And, now, he was avoiding you.

You sighed and walked back to the bed, sitting beside the guns you’ve left scattered over it, facing Dean’s direction. You leaned on your knees with your elbows, holding your head with your hands, squishing your cheeks and making your pout more prominent than intended. Dean looked at you with pity.

“Did I do something? Say something?” You ask Dean, looking up at him. Dean shakes his head and sighs, getting up from the chair and walking to the mini bar. You knew exactly what he was reaching for and you stretched a hand out to grab the beer bottle once he handed it to you. You opened it easily with your hand and took three big gulps of it. Dean opened his as he sat down beside you this time, on the bed, and threw the lid over the bedside table, the material clinking against the wood.

“Nah, you didn’t do anything, he’s just in a mood” He said but it didn’t seem to help, your face still sad and your head far away, filled with the wrong thoughts. He sighed and gave you a side hug, your head laying against his shoulder. Dean rubbed his hand up and down your upper arm mindlessly to comfort you. “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, you did nothing wrong, he’s just…being Sam, I’m sure this has nothing to do with you, okay? I’ll make sure to kick his ass later” He smiled.

You smiled slightly at the last part, shaking your head at the older Winchester, the typical brotherly teasing something you grew fond of.

Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, Sam was trying to keep it together. He had never felt this way before and it was driving him crazy trying to stay away from you because, at the same time he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if anything he did or said showed his attraction – physical and emotional – towards you, he was dreading this. He longed for your closeness, for your touch, not necessarily in a sexual way, much like the one of concern you had just given him. But right now everything became sexual to him, just your hand over his arms was enough to drive goosebumps over his spine.

He washed his face with the cold water from the sink, brushing his wet hand through his hair. He breathed deeply and dried his face, ready to leave the bathroom and go back to acting as if he didn’t want to kick Dean out of the room and have you right here, right now.

Once he opened the door, he regretted it almost immediately. When he saw Dean so close he clenched his hand against the door handle, swallowing his jealousy. You weren’t his, he reminded himself, he didn’t have the right to be jealous of someone that wasn’t his. But, oh, he was. It was uncontrollable, but undeniable.

He watched Dean’s hand rub up and down your arm, your head laid over his shoulder so comfortably. He bit the inside of his cheek as he approached the both of you to place his laptop back into its case. You had noticed his presence, lifting off of Dean and looking at his side profile. He won’t even look at me. You glanced at Dean, who had also realized his brother’s behavior, and gave him a disappointed look.

You sighed through your nose and grabbed your gun to put in the waistband of your jeans. You also took your bag that you always had with you on hunts, separate from the one with your personal items, and threw it over your shoulder. Dean just stared as you got ready to leave, not stopping you. He needed some alone time with Sam to ask him what the fuck was going on.

“I’m going to the car, we can leave once you’re both ready” You said. Dean acknowledged it with an ‘Okay’ and Sam just hummed. You opened the door and left, angrily walking towards Baby.

As soon as the door closed behind you Dean got up from the bed and aggressively spun Sam around, grabbing at his shoulder.

“Hey–!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean interrupted, and an angry scowl on his face. He whisper-yelled, still worried that you might hear them. Sam gave him a confused look and Dean rolled his eyes at the stupidity of his brother. “Why are you acting like this with her?”

“Acting like what?” Sam bit back, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Stop pretending like you don’t know Sammy! Why are you ignoring Y/N all of a sudden? Weren’t you the one all” Dean raised his hands, doing quotation marks with both his index and middle fingers “‘head over heels’ for her, hm?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. He crossed his arms in front of him, slightly looking down at his brother due to the height difference. “It’s nothing” He mumbled, looking away. Images of you roamed around his head at Dean’s question and it reminded him why he was doing this in the first place. He was avoiding you for your own good, you and your friendship with him.

“It’s not nothing, damn it, the girl thinks she did something. Did she? Because you sure make it look like you are angry with her” Dean kept poking at the subject, getting on Sam’s nerves. His face softened once his brother told him you felt bad. “What happened?” Dean asked again, this time a little more softly after he noticed Sam’s face drop at his words.

Sam sighed and looked around the room, nervous. He didn’t know if he should actually tell Dean about this – he’d definitely make fun of him endlessly. But still, he didn’t know if making you sad was worth it. He ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was under pressure and mumbled “I had a dream”

“What?” Dean asked, not understanding whatever language his brother just spoke.

“A dream”

“Dream? What do you mean?”

“I had a dream…with Y/N”

“What do you mean a dream with–” Realization suddenly hits Dean “...Oh” and he relaxes his eyebrows, like he just made sense of everything that happened that day. Then he smirks. Smirks and starts to laugh his ass off as Sam just stands there, cheeks flushed, waiting for his brother to calm down. He knew it.

Sam started to smile slightly as his brother kept trying to talk over his laughter, his embarrassment almost gone. Once Dean finally took a few breaths, a hand on his chest as he dried his fake tears and his laughter died down with a sigh. He looked at Sam who stood there absolutely flushed.

“Man, that’s why you were taking longer in the shower than usual” Dean said with a fake disgust in his face. “Remember me to wash that bathroom twice before using”

“Shut up” Sam mumbled and looked away, suddenly deep in thought. Dean stopped joking and crossed his arms, giving Sam a silent questioning look. Sam glanced at his brother. “What?”

“This kind of still doesn’t answer my question. Why are you avoiding her?” Dean asked and Sam looked at him like he had three heads. “Shouldn’t this make you, and I can’t believe I’m saying this but, excited to be around her”

“Dean, come on, I don’t want her to think I’m a pervert and, besides, she doesn’t even like me that way” And when Sam said that, Dean’s eyeballs almost popped out of his head, his eyes widening at his brother. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, asking the Lord above – better yet, Chuck – to give him the strength to deal with Sam’s stupidity.

“Do you not see it?” He asks. Sam makes a face.

“See what?”

“Oh my God, are you blind Sammy? Or just severely oblivious?” Dean inquiries. “She’s so obviously into you it hurts to watch”

“Dean, please–”

“Don’t ‘please’ me! It’s so clear! She’s always near you when she has the chance, she always insists on helping you when you get hurt on hunts, she looks at you like you’re the last man on Earth, she always worries so much about you…”

“She does the same with you and…” Sam bit the inside of his cheek “...you guys seemed pretty cozy when I came out of the bathroom”

Dean almost hit Sam right then and there, or took one of the guns and shot him through his leg – as a warning. How could he even…?

“Are you fucking serious? That girl is like a sister to me. And why would I even flirt with her when I know you’re into the chick? I’m bad but not that bad, I ain’t stealing your girl” Dean reasures Sam.

His girl. Dean said. But you weren’t his. Sam sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, a million thoughts running through his head. He walked close to the bed and sat down, his and his brother’s guns slightly bouncing over the mattress with the added weight. He held his head in his hands, his hair falling beside his face, his elbows propped over his knees.

“What am I supposed to do?” Sam asks, helpless. Dean shakes his head.

“Talk to her, it’s as simple as that” Dean responded as if it truly was that easy. Sam thought about it. You weren’t gonna hate him for liking you and, maybe, Dean was right and you liked him too. It was a 50/50 chance between rejection and love. He weighed his options and decided in his mind.

Sam suddenly got up, startling Dean. He grabbed his gun and bag, walking around with a determined gaze. Dean accompanied his movements with his eyes, wanting to question the youngest about what conclusion he had gotten to but he was soon with a hand on the door handle and he looked back at his older brother, smiling.

“Let’s go, we have things to kill”

It was safe to say that seeing you in a suit didn’t help Sam’s mind as it roamed back to those thoughts. As said before, you looked good in absolutely anything, but boy could you absolutely tear a man apart with the way you looked. You styled your hair in a more professional way using Baby’s rear view mirror and it looked amazing, your strands glowing in the faint daylight the day had left.

You were both standing close enough so that Sam was able to smell your perfume and the scent of your hair products. It became harder to concentrate on whoever you were interviewing, his eyes wandering to stare at the back of your head, wanting to see inside your brain for any message that said ‘Hey Sam, I’m into you too!’

Dean had gone elsewhere to deal with other things regarding the case so that left you and Sam. Alone. You felt, for the first time in years that you knew Sam, awkward to be around him. On the ride to the witness’ house, you barely talked, something that rarely happened between the two of you. You thought about asking what was wrong but that didn’t work the first time so you hadn’t done it again.

Right now, you sat on the passenger seat of the Impala, staring at Sam's hands gripping the steering wheel. He had hardly looked at you throughout the whole day — or so you thought.

Sam was in an intense battle inside his head and the way you kept looking at him wasn't helping. When he left the room after talking to Dean, he thought he felt brave enough to tell you everything he wanted to but, once he saw you sitting in the backseat in all your beauty, he was reminded of why he hadn't done it before.

He looked at you in secret everytime you were distracted. The way your hips moved when you walked, the way you crossed your legs in the seat every now and then. Oh what he wouldn't give to squeeze your thighs between his fingers right now. You had your arms crossed in front of your chest and — may Sam be forgiven — but the way it made your breasts look when you did that.

He gripped his fingers against the steering wheel even tighter, grounding himself from his thoughts, his knuckles turning white. He sped up the car, unconsciously trying to get back to the motel quicker.

You looked at his side profile then, a quizzical look on your face. He still didn’t look at you.

“Sam” You called. He didn't acknowledge it entirely, his head to focused on not getting a boner at the thought of fucking you in the backseat. You inch closer to him, a hand on his shoulder, “Sam!”

“What!” He answers, dryly. You brush it off, already used to his attitude for the day.

“You don't need to go that fast, we aren't in a hurry, God damn” You huff and pull your hand away from him, sinking back down in your seat angrily.

“Okay, sorry” He mumbles. You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. A message from Dean. You take your phone and read the message. “Found a bar, don’t wait for me to get back ;)”. You chuckle and send an answer back knowing you’d probably only see him next morning. You told him to be safe – in all ways – and not drink too much. Sam looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Who’s that?”

“Madonna” You reply, sarcastically. He doesn’t say anything so you look at his face, which has an annoyed expression over it. “It’s Dean, he found a bar, told us not to wait for him”

Sam hums in acknowledgement and silence settles again, letting your mind wander over the possibilities of why Sam was acting with you this way. You were usually pretty playful, talked a lot with each other, either in the car or before you both parted ways to sleep, each in your own room. This silence, this avoidance was driving you nuts trying to figure out what happened. You felt like crying, honestly, overwhelmed with this feeling inside you. These feelings, plural. Your feelings for Sam mixed with this sickness that downed on you when you would notice he could barely say a word to you.

Lost in your head, you almost didn’t notice when Sam parked Baby in the motel's parking lot, only realizing it when the comforting hum of the engine went away. You both got out of the car, getting your bags in the trunk. You weren’t in the same room as the boys but you felt the need to talk to Sam so, when you came up behind him to his door and got inside his room, stepping in and quickly closing the door behind you, he was confused.

“Aren’t you going to–”

“What’s going on?” You asked, throat tight and heart aching, but you refused to cry. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and you stepped closer to him, standing barely two feet away from the Winchester.

“You’ve been acting cold towards me all day! All damn day. And I have no idea why.” You pressed your index against his chest accusingly, pushing him back slightly, not because you were necessarily stronger, but because you caught him off guard, your outburst was unexpected.

“I didn’t–”

“I tried, okay? I tried to figure out what I did but I…I don’t know. I tried to talk to you earlier today and you brushed me off, you seem incapable of looking at me properly, you’re cold, you’re quiet and I have no idea why so, please tell me. What’s going on?”

Your eyes were glassy and your heart was racing. Sam was speechless, he didn’t know you were feeling this way. Dean had told him, of course, but he had no idea you were actually that affected by his distancing. And to think that he only stood away because he didn’t want to make you feel bad or creeped out about his nervousness, it had the exact opposite effect. He felt his heart sink as he saw you holding back tears and his first instinct was to wrap his arms around you.

You hugged him back, thankful for some reassurance that he at least didn’t hate you, your arms wrapped around his waist and your face pressed against his chest. Sam caressed your head, your hair feeling soft under his fingers.

“You didn’t do anything, Y/N, don’t say that” He told you.

You pulled away from his chest to look at him. “Then tell me what’s wrong”

Sam sighs and closes his eyes momentarily. He had imagined this moment thousands of times, where he told you about how he felt. He couldn’t believe it would be after he ignored you because you were too hot to handle. He looked at you again, drowning in your beautiful eye color, one that he could stare for hours at its beauty. He then looked up, asking for the strength to tell you all he wanted, his throat visible to you as he swallowed his nerves.

“Actually, yeah, you kind of did something” He says, moving his hands until he was holding your upper arms, a smirk on his lips as he eyes you down. You opened your mouth, shocked, but, before you could say anything, he continued. “You drive me crazy, Y/N”

You stood still, scared to move as he talked. You were confused, lost. Hadn’t he just said you had nothing to do with this? Meanwhile, Sam just looked at you for a few seconds, silent. He took you in completely, your body still hidden under the FBI suit but he felt like he already had it memorized. He wanted to touch you, to feel you and he felt like, if he held back any longer, he could lose you. Lose you to someone who wasn’t scared of loving you. “Sam, I don’t–”

“Just– Look at you. You are one of the most amazing women I know, you’re strong, you’re smart, you– God, there’s no words that can describe just how incredible you are. You care for people more than you do for yourself and, even if that makes me angry sometimes, it just shows how big of a heart you have” He takes a breath. “You can be dying but you’d still put a bandaid on someone's scraped knee just because they asked you to, because you care.”

Sam slowly moves his hands to hold you by your neck, his rough palms hot against your skin. You had no words, you just hoped that your eyes could talk for you as you stared into his hazel ones. You had so much to say but words refused to form in your mouth. You never thought Sam would be the one to confess, hell, you never thought he even liked you that way. Hearing him say those things was like getting hit by a train of happiness. You raised your hands to wrap around his wrists, gently holding them as you prayed for him to continue.

“You’re the girl I picture to be forever in my life, if not as a lover, please let it be as a friend. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, but, at the same time, I can’t keep these feelings to myself much longer. If you don’t want me that way, it’s fine, but I need you here with me, one way or another” Sam finishes and starts searching your face for any kind of reaction. He just put his heart in your hands and it was up to you to shatter it or not. He felt his nerves on fire. He rubbed his thumb against your jawline to keep himself grounded and hold onto the comforting thought that you hadn’t pulled away from his touch.

You suddenly smiled, wide and proud. Sam seemed to relax when he saw it, a breath he didn’t know he was holding coming out of his mouth. You felt a rush of happiness go through you as you realized he wasn’t avoiding you because he was mad at you, he was avoiding you because he wanted you so bad he felt like he could make you mad. And that was so Sam. It was exactly like him to tone down his own feelings because of other people and how they might feel, even if it eats him on the inside. What felt even better is that he managed to muster up the courage to come here and tell you about everything in the most Sam way possible, in a way that made shivers run through you.

“Sam Winchester, if you don’t kiss me right now I might just–” He didn’t even let you finish, his plump lips crashing against yours in earnest. He waited months for this and there was no way he was delaying this further. Your words are swallowed down by his mouth along with a surprised gasp you let out. One of his hands went further until it held you behind your neck, his thumb still caressing your jaw as relieved breaths came out of his nose, he was so nervous he would get dumped and his heart crushed that kissing you felt better than anything he ever imagined. The dream might’ve been good but actually kissing you felt so, so much better.

Your lips were sweet and your skin felt soft, a big contrast against his rough hands from handling weapons and burning bones. Those dreams of his came to mind yet again, the thought of exploring your whole body with his mouth made him groan, opening his mouth and teasing your lips with his tongue so you’d open them. You gladly did, letting one of your hands wrap around the base of his neck, pulling him in. 

He lowered one of his hands to your waist through the inside of your black suit, pulling your body flush against his, squeezing your skin through the layers of clothing, eager to feel every inch of you. You groaned at his touch, a surge of heat polling into your belly. His hands took the opportunity to explore what he could – like dream Sam did – trailing his fingers up your back and you shivered, the light touch just making your need for him bigger.

His tongue explored your mouth, the kiss growing more heated within the moment. He starts to gently take the suit off your body, sliding it against your arms without breaking the kiss. Sam thinks for the first time in the last few seconds. He thinks about all the times he imagined being able to do this and, now that he had the chance and his feelings were reciprocated, he wanted to make it as good as possible for the both of you. He pulls away, wanting to make sure that you are on board with this.

His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you, pupils dilated with desire – desire for you. Not once in your life have you thought that Sam would look at you that way – and God how much you dreamed of it. He was always much more secretive with his antics than Dean was, often keeping to himself instead of bragging about it, but you knew. You knew he was a passionate lover and the way he behaves just gives away how much of a gentleman he must be in bed. 

“Is this okay? Are you okay with this?” He asked you, voice filled with lust and deeper than his usual. You could’ve melted right then and there as he looked between your eyes, searching for any discomfort. Instead of telling him, you decided to show Sam how bad you wanted him. You slowly walked back, dropping the suit he already had taken halfway off from your body to the ground. You didn’t take your eyes off of him and he stared intensely at you right back, attentive to what you were going to do.

Your hands slowly trailed up your body, roaming through your curves and you see Sam swallow, his fists clenching and unclenching beside him, his throat so deliciously biteable. Once your fingers arrived at the top button of your white shirt, you started to unbutton one by one, slowly. You took your time, eyes trained on his with a smirk on your lips. You were playing bold but the way he was looking at you made your knees weak. His eyes were analyzing every movement of your hands and he stood unbelievably still, like a hunter watching its prey, careful to not scare it away.

Once the last button was undone, you dropped the white clothing to the ground. You now stood in your bra, the cold of the room hitting your skin and making goosebumps rise over it. You got closer to the man again and he accompanied you with his hazel orbs, now a tone darker due to his dilated pupils and the poor lighting in the room. You took one of his hands and placed it against your bare skin, the hot touch making you sigh before grabbing him by the neck with the other hand, bringing his face closer but, instead of kissing him, you placed your mouth closer to his ear.

“I want you, Sam” You whisper in his ear and leave a kiss right below it. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, keeping as much control as he could, biting his lower lip. He groans and a ton of thoughts go through his head – you, naked below him, your attitude gone as he fucks it out of you, pleasurable moans of his name coming out of your mouth. I want you, you said. He strongly grips your hips with both hands, making you yelp, and pushes you towards the bed, manhandling you successfully. Once your back is against the mattress, Sam immediately attacks your neck, kisses and bites making you sigh his name and arch your back into him.

“You have no idea what you do to me” He mumbled against your skin. And, really, you had no clue. He had spent the whole day thinking about this exact moment. The whole day, more like the last 4 months. The months where he had the urge to smash whatever man’s head that flirted with you against a wall and kiss you right then and there, in front of everyone to show who you truly belonged to. “For ages I’ve been thinking about you like this, you are everything that I think about and it’s driving me insane. You drive me insane”

He bites you particularly harder and you moan, your hand flying to his head and tugging at his hair. “Sam!” Your plea came out pathetically needy and he pulled away from your neck to look you in the face, his strong arms caging you beneath him and making you focus solely on the grin he had displayed on his lips. He kisses your lips again, passionate and needy, a groan rippling deep in his throat.

With his lips still glued to yours, he tugged his own suit away from his body, fumbling with the clothing and throwing it away so quick you barely noticed it, loosening his tie and bringing his hands right back to your body, because now that he could touch you, there was nothing in the world that could take him away. He landed his hands on your ribs and trailed then behind your back, his fingers teasing against your bra.

He broke the kiss and with unsteady breaths close to your mouth he asked: “Can I?” as he teases his finger under the bra strap. You hummed in approval and grabbed both his cheeks, giving him a firm peck on the lips to emphasize it.

“Yes, you can, please” You say. It came out much needier than intended but Sam didn’t seem to mind. You thought he didn’t, but he did. He smiled at you, feeling pride in the thought of making you needy and, hearing your voice – that’s so assertive and strong on a daily basis – breathy and desperate, made him wonder why he hadn’t done this earlier. You looked stunning under him and no dream could ever picture what he was seeing. Your eyes hooded, mouth agape and thumbs caressing the stubble on his face, eager to touch him as much as he was to touch you. He was looking right through the gates of heaven.

He proceeded to unclasp your bra, gently taking it off of you. He does all that without taking his eyes off your face and only allows himself to look down once the undergarment was long forgotten, laying on the ground. You didn’t know what to do or where to look, turning your face from him and feeling your cheeks heat up. You, of course, had been with other men in bed and you never truly cared if they didn’t think of you above a one night stand – you didn’t think much of them either. But Sam made you feel nervous. He was being so caring up until now, contrasting against most men you’ve been with, the thought of not reciprocating it properly made you shy below him.

He was appreciating the perfection he had under him, his fingers trailing your sides affectionately when he noticed your face turning away. You were biting your lip and avoiding his piercing gaze and he raised a hand to hold your chin, slowly turning your face to look at him again. He kissed you to ease your nerves but, this time, it wasn’t lustful, it wasn’t simply a carnal need, he kissed you with love, with passion and you could feel it tearing through your soul, his feelings pouring out and painting your insides.

He pulled back again and his eyes traveled through your face as a smile painted his lips. “You’re beautiful” He says and you smile back at him widely, your heart racing in your chest. You didn’t know what to say to that so you grabbed at his loose tie that hung just below your jaw and pulled him in harshly, smashing your lips against his. The unexpected move made Sam lose his balance and you took the opportunity to change your positions, laying him back on the bed as you straddled his waist with your legs.

Sam gripped your hips as you made out, gently rolling you over him and you felt it. You felt him under you through the clothing you both still had on and a whine escaped your lips into the kisses. Sam leaves your lips to start attacking your neck, leaving hickeys and bites behind. He was holding onto the last ounce of control he had, you were just so much. Every little noise you made went straight to his cock and he couldn’t handle it anymore, you still had too much clothing on and he needed to do something about it.

Sam turned both of you over again and left your lips to stand straight in front of you. The sight of you half naked, splayed out over the bed, hair messed up, shiny spots from his saliva against your neck and collarbone was very close to the sight he’d dreamed about. But a hundred times better. Because this was real, he was touching you, kissing you, marking you and making you his.

He felt suffocated in his own clothes and he took the opportunity to take off his tie and his white shirt along the way, slowly revealing his defined body. You swallowed to try and not drool over the sight, his strong physique covered by a thin layer of sweat, the tattoo he had on his chest contrasting against his tanned torso and few scars he had here and there. Some were white, others were pink-ish – more recent – but he looked fabulous no matter what. You’d seen him shirtless before, while patching him up or when the bunker was too hot for either of the brothers but none of those situations were as intimate as this. He was half naked only for your eyes to see – as much as you were for his.

He noticed your stare and he smirked as he approached your lower belly with his mouth. You held your breath and closed your eyes as his mouth made contact with your skin. From then on, he kissed his way up, biting here and there in places only you would know if the mark was still there the next day. He kissed your own scars that were scattered through your torso softly, treating them with care because, as much as him, you had gotten hurt on hunts. Besides, he found it amazing how strong you were. He admired you and your scars were there to prove to everyone who saw you that you were a fighter.

His hands came up alongside his kisses, caressing your sides so lightly it was almost ticklish. When his mouth got to the valley of your breasts he looked up at you, a question in his eyes. He had his hands placed right below your boobs, not moving, not touching them, just there as he waited for your approval. You were burning up from the inside out, the sight was so much. His eyes pleading for you to let him touch you, his hair making a curtain around his face.

“Touch me, Sam” You whisper, knowing that even if it wasn’t loud, he could hear you. He grinned and went right into action, his hands filling themselves up with your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. You let out a low moan, the little stimulation you got from his fingers finally doing something to soothe the fire inside you.

He joined with his mouth, sucking and licking deliciously at it. You flew a hand to tangle into his hair, unconsciously tugging at his roots when he lightly bit at your nipple. Sam would groan against your skin every time you would tighten your fingers in his hair and he felt like he could cum just by hearing your faint pleas and breathless whines. He continued kissing up after that, his hands still squeezing your breasts lightly.

His mouth marked your collarbones with hickeys, painting your skin with reds and purples. He nipped at your neck, sucking at your pulse point and you bucked your hips against his, the pleasure too much and too little all at once. He was taking his time with you, appreciating every second that he could get and yet you felt his desperation when he tightened his hands around your boobs once your crotch hit his.

You tugged his hair harder to bring his face close to yours and Sam complied. You smashed your lips against his, the kiss all tongue and teeth, completely desperate. Your breathing was heavy and Sam brought his hands to your back, lifting it off the bed and making your chest glue against his, your sensitive nipples grinding against his skin. You clawed your nails on his shoulders to keep yourself together, markings that looked like half moons left behind in your desperation to remind you all this was real.

You dragged your hands down his arms, nails lightly scraping over his skin, and gently guided his forearms down, his hands going along. He proceeded to rest his palms over your covered ass, groaning in your mouth when he realized what you were insinuating. You wanted more, needed more.

You pulled back from his mouth just enough so you could talk. You opened your eyes to see one of the sexiest views you’ve ever encountered. Sam’s mouth was open, unsteady breaths hitting your mouth as his eyes stared down at you. You brought a hand to his cheek and just appreciated the sight for a moment before your mouth gave him an open mouthed kiss below his jaw. You felt goosebumps down your spine when he moaned lightly at your action, his hands squeezing at your ass. You placed your mouth close to his ear and Sam closed his eyes, waiting to see what you were going to do now.

“Fuck me, Sammy, don’t hold back” You whispered and Sam’s knees almost gave out, the nickname he usually hated hearing sounding so sweet coming out of your mouth. He pulled back to look at you.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking between your mouth and your eyes. You nodded.

“Yes” Was all you had to say before he grabbed at the hem of your pants, dragging them down your legs. He distanced himself from you to kneel between your legs, face to face with your covered pussy, the only thing you were wearing now being your panties.

After discarding your pants, Sam roamed his hands slowly up your legs, from your ankles to where your hips connected to your thigh. You were clenching and unclenching your fists beside your body, holding your torso up with your elbows and looking down to see him hypnotized by your soaked underwear, his eyes glued. You were embarrassedly wet and, as Sam dragged a finger over it, grinding against your neglected clit, you bucked against his hand, whining.

“Sam…” You pleaded and he finally looked up at you. You were taking deep breaths, your chest going up and down, decorated by the marks left by his mouth and teeth. You looked stunning. “Do something” 

And he does. He kisses right above your covered sex and you moan deep in your throat again, fingers gripping the sheets. Sam was feeling pride in himself. He was the one who got you like this, not any other man. He was the one you were begging for and he was the one who was going to give you everything you wanted. He wanted to worship you atom by atom of your being because that was what you deserved, he was going to treat you like the goddess you were.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and, like he was opening a present he long wished for, – which was kind of true – he takes it off so calmly you were close to combusting. When Sam finally sees you completely nude for the first time, only for his eyes to see and outside of his dirty dreams, he hums in delight. Fucking hums. He’s done for the moment he sees your cunt, wet and glistening just for him. Oh how badly he wanted this, for so, so long he wanted you like this and now he was finally fulfilling his deepest desire.

He squeezes your thighs in his hands before reaching for your sex, his middle finger collecting your wetness in his finger. You buck against his hand again, this time even more sensitive and neglected than before. And you cry out, not with tears, but a desperate sob for attention. Sam notices that and looks up at your face to see your eyebrows furrowed and a sheen of sweat in your forehead, you looked so fucked out without even him actively doing anything. He softened and caressed your sides with his hands, soothing your nerves – or trying to, at least.

“Shh, pretty girl, I’m gonna take care of you” He says “I’m just appreciating how perfect you are, taking my time with the girl of my dreams”

Your face softened and you felt your cheeks warm up even more than they already were. You bit back a smile. You felt unique at that moment, as if you were the only woman in the world as he said the sweetest words inches away from your pussy, it was almost laughable to think that one of the most romantic things you’ve ever heard was said between your legs.

Sam smiled at you and started kissing your inner thighs, so close yet so far from where you truly wanted him. He loved kissing your skin, he loved to feel you and you were keeping that in mind. He expressed his love physically rather than using words and you were just realizing it wasn’t just in bed he was like that. He always wanted to cook for you, he knew how you liked your drink, he would take care of you when you would get too drunk or when you were hurt or not feeling great. He hugged you, kissed the top of your head, pranked you. He gave you his jacket when you were cold or for you to use as a pillow when you were sleeping on a longer ride. He protected you, even if he knew you didn’t need it, either literally, putting his body in front of yours when someone or something threatened you, or not letting you go alone on hunts – including this one, where you had offered to go alone to questioning and, even if he was technically avoiding you, he wasn’t going to let you go solo.

Sam had loved you for so long and you were oblivious. Were. Because now he was digging his fingers in your thighs, mouth closing over your clit and you were arching your back. His stubble scratched your inner thighs, adding more to the building pleasure in your belly. He sucked at your cunt so skillfully that you wondered how long you would last like this and how much he had practiced to have a mouth that was able to do that. He moved his hands to your ass again, bringing your hips up and burying his face deeper into your heat.

He felt like he could die happy between your thighs because he wasn’t leaving there anytime soon. You were delicious and he was drinking in your noises like a drug, getting high off his lust and your taste. He hummed and groaned against your pussy, his cock pulsing so bad it practically hurt, almost cumming in his pants just from this.

“Sam– Oh God, please, please, plea–se” You cried out, the pleasure almost too much, the foreplay making you sensitive to a level you felt everything ten times harder. Sam knew exactly what he did to you, it was like he edged you consciously, knowing you’d beg for him louder once he finally got to touching you. And damn him because it worked, you were a moaning mess and he would be lying if it didn’t stroke his ego to hear you plead for him, submitting to his ministrations so quickly, it was adorable.

He was eating you out with everything he had, digging his nails on your skin. You were soon close to the edge, tightening your thighs around his head so he would not pull away. Everything around you consisted only of him, his scent, his noises, his body, him. It was overwhelming and, with a loud cry of his name, you came, hard.

The room went out of focus, your eyes rolling back in pure pleasure. You had trapped Sam’s head between your legs and he hadn’t stopped. He kept licking you clean, completely lost in your pussy. He could stay like that forever, until his jaw went sore, just so that he could hear you over and over again while he’s nose deep into your cunt. He only comes back to the real world – the one that doesn’t consist in an infinite loop of your voice moaning his name – when you pull at his hair and your thighs open space to let him get up.

“T’much Sammy'' You say, breathless. You bring him up from your cunt, and look at his face, glistening with your juices, a giddy smile on his lips – like a kid who just got a truckload of candy dumped at their house – and cheeks red from the heat. You smile back at him and giggle. Who would’ve thought that he would make you cry for him to touch you and, minutes later, you’d be laughing at his mischievous grin from making you cum.

You brought him back up with a hand behind his neck and he gladly crawled on the bed until he was face to face with you again, his hands supporting his upper body so he wouldn’t crush you. You looked at him for a few seconds, a look that you intended to fill with love and care and he reciprocated, his head angling 45° with a gentle smile that made him look absolutely adorable. You put a strand of his hair behind his ear, which proved useless as it fell right back to curtain his face, his hair being too straight and too soft to hold up like that. You chuckled lightly and pulled him in for a kiss.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the saltiness making you hum in his mouth. The kiss grew heated fast and you started to roam your hands over his chest, his muscles tensing under your light palms. You explored his body as much as he did to yours, caressing over every visible muscle he had – which, honestly, was a lot. When you got to his abs, Sam broke the kiss to let out a shaky breath. He gently grabbed your wrists and kneeled on the bed, his body now in its full glory above you, the lightning in the room making his body even more defined.

With your wrists in his hand, Sam dragged your palms, that were flattened against his skin, lower. And lower. Until you were touching the hem of his pants that he still, incredibly, had on. You stared at the bulge he had right below, swallowing thickly and letting out a deep breath, your cunt clenching in response. He looked big. You should have an idea, Sam was 6’4, of course it would be proportional to his height but God if it didn’t make you think about swallowing him down, the tip hitting the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as he fucked your face.

“Want me to take them off?” You hear his voice, snapping you out of your fantasies. You looked up at him and down again. You hooked your fingers in the waistband and, on cue, Sam let go of your wrists. You slowly brought his pants and underwear down at the same time, too eager to keep up the foreplay and too desperate to tease.

When you finally see it, an audible groan reverbates in the back of your throat. Sam moans lowly, the pain from the constriction caused by his boxers and pants finally going away and making him even more aware of the neglect his dick got up til now. He watches your reaction carefully and, one of the first things you do is throw your legs back, standing on your knees, one hand supporting your body as the other stops midway to his dick. Sam felt his whole body burn with need. God what did he do to deserve you.

You were on all fours in front of him, head inches from his cock, eyes now looking up at him with a question. You felt like if you opened your mouth you would drool, you needed him inside it and you were silently asking him if it was okay.

Sam angled his torso to bring his face closer to yours, grabbing your chin with his hand and giving you a firm peck on the lips. “Do it, beautiful” He whispered against your mouth and straightened up again and you confirmed with a nod before wrapping your hand around his dick.

Sam breathed out when you started to pump him, your hand doing light movements. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of your name, a silent plea and you gladly listened. You wrapped your mouth around the tip, just the tip for now, and circled your tongue around it, the salty taste of precum invading your mouth. Sam’s hand instantly flew to your head, encouraging you to take him deeper, but not forcing you. Still, you started to relax your throat and took as much of him as you could, hollowing your cheeks.

“Y/N, baby, Jesus” Sam sighed and your insides tingled. You took what you couldn’t take in your mouth with your hand, squeezing and pumping using your spit as lube. You could feel Sam holding back, his hips stuttering every now and again. You braced yourself, deciding to give him more, and placed your hands on his thighs, tapping it twice with your index finger. Sam looked down at you, swallowing his breathy groans. He damn near came just by looking at you, those beautiful eyes staring up at him, your mouth wrapped around his dick. He concentrated, remembering the silent message you sent him.

“I don’t want to hurt you” He said and you did your best to shake your head no in your conditions. You won’t. And emphasized it by squeezing his thighs and pushing your head forward. Sam sighed and nodded. “Okay, but if it’s too much, tap three times, get it doll?” He asked. The nickname made you shiver, his voice sounding so sweet calling you that. Brushing it off you tapped his thigh three times, just for him to know you understood what he said. 

Sam started to rock his hips back and forth slowly, using your mouth for his pleasure. All you did was relax your throat as much as you could and breathe through your nose. He started to quicken up within time, losing his control as his release came closer. He was grunting and moaning and all his noises went straight to your pussy. He let out sighs of your name, his head thrown back and his neck glistening with sweat, his Adam's apple bobbing everytime he swallowed.

Too enamored by his noises, you lost focus and gagged on his cock, tears stinging your eyes. Sam loudly moaned your name at that, hips faltering as he tugged at your head to take your mouth off his cock. His breathing was heavy and his mouth was dry and he stood face to face with you to kiss your lips again, moaning inside your mouth. You were a bit disappointed that he hadn’t cum but you swallowed his whines gladly with your mouth, clasping your hands on each one of his cheeks. He pulled away and caressed a thumb over your lips.

“What have you got in that mouth of yours sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk and you bit your lip.

“Says the one who was eating me out like a starved man” You replied, wrapping one arm around his neck as your index finger traced his lips before giving them a peck, smiling once you pulled away. He smiled at you before wrapping his arms around your waist, like he would in a hug, and throwing you back. You shrieked as you landed on your back and Sam laid practically on top of you, attacking your face with tiny kisses, making you laugh under him.

Once he stopped, he just stared down at you. “Hi” He said.

“Hi” You whispered back after your laugh died down.

“Did I already tell you you’re beautiful?”

“Once��twice”

“You’re beautiful” He said, again “I’ll never stop telling you that”

“I can deal with it” You teased and he chuckled, going right back to kissing you.

Sam was one of a kind. You had taken some time to truly understand why you had fallen in love with him in the first place but there was not just one thing that made Sam Winchester special, everything he did just added up. From the huge things to the tiny details, he just was so easy to fall in love with and these moments were definitely one of those in the list, in which, no matter the situation, good or bad, Sam could make you smile.

As he kissed you now, his hands roamed your body like he had done before until two of his fingers teased at your entrance and you rolled your hips against his hand. Blowing him had made you aroused again and you could feel your wetness coating his fingers. Sam smirked in your mouth before slowly inserting his middle and ring finger inside your wetness. Your mouth left his to let out a moan, your foreheads glued.

Sam opened his eyes to watch your expression as he hooked his fingers inside you. You whined, your eyebrows furrowed and your nails left angry red trails over his shoulders. He lowered his head to kiss your neck open mouthed. He started to scissor his fingers inside you, preparing for what you knew was coming and you gladly relaxed around his fingers, grinding your cunt on his digits.

“Sweetheart, I need to be inside you, I need you” He whispered in your ear and you whined at the thought, nodding in approval.

“Yes, Sammy, please” You breathlessly said. Sam took his fingers out from your hole and you held back a complaint from the emptiness once you saw him pumping his hardened cock with the hand he used his fingers to prepare you, lubricating himself with your juices. He lined himself up with your entrance and looked at you again.

He wanted to watch you as he sunk himself into your heat and that’s what he did. He slowly started to enter you and your mouth opened in a silent moan at the stretch. He was filling you up deliciously well, right in the division between pain and pleasure and, the deeper he went, the harder your nails dug on his shoulders.

Sam was also struggling. Your tightness enveloped him in a way no one had ever done before and it felt so fucking good to bury himself inside you. He started to distract you from the possible painful stretch with kisses over your collarbones and neck, focusing on relaxing your body so he could make love to you properly.

At last, you felt his pelvis connect with yours and you were so amazingly full. His dick hit places inside you you could never reach alone and it felt incredible. 

Once you were used to his size and craving more, you rolled your hips against his, making Sam suck in a breath. He was trying to keep his composure but he was holding on his last ounces of control and when you moved he damn nearly lost it.

“You can move” You whisper and Sam wastes no time fulfilling your request, immediately starting to pump into you. He was euphoric, his mind was blurry as only images of you naked under him and begging for him to fuck you went through his head. You would tighten your walls around him from time to time and that would cause his breathing to falter and his hips to stutter.

You weren’t much different, every buck of his hips would hit you in a spot that made you see starts. You were already overstimulated from his previous ministrations so you knew you weren’t going to last long and, from the way Sam was twitching inside you, you knew he wasn’t going to either.

“Sam, I’m s’close” You moaned close to his ear.

“Me too, baby” He said as he brought his hand to press over your lower belly. You nearly screamed as he did that, you could feel him even better, his shape feeling like it was being permanently molded inside you. Along with it, he reached a thumb to rub over your clit – his big hands be damned – and at that you finally went over the edge with a desperate cry of his name. 

Your vision blurred as the only thing you knew was real was the feeling of emptiness since Sam was chasing his own release after leaving your warmth. He pumped his cock a few times and proceeded to cum over your belly, painting your skin with his liquids. You were spread out on the bed for a while longer after that, Sam panting above you, his softening dick still in his hand and you completely fucked out with a lazy smile on your face.

Once that high passed, Sam took you to the bathroom – bridal style – and cleaned you up in the bathtub with warm water and gave you the privacy you needed after he sorted himself out too, leaving the bathroom on his boxers.

You took your time, using the toilet so as to not get any infections and leaving the bathroom completely naked, too lazy to actually put clothes on. You just wanted to sleep beside Sam and wake up happy in his arms.

He saw you coming out of the room and smiled, eyeing you up and down.

“No clothes?” He asked

“Unless you’re uncomfortable, I think we’re past that” You joked and he shook his head.

“I don’t mind, come here” He said, opening an arm to invite you to lay over his chest and you gladly did, jumping on the bed and wrapping your arms around his torso, laying your head on his firm chest. Sam covered both of you with the white sheets, hiding your exposed body under them. You laid silent for a moment, just drowning in each other's company as you listened to his steady heartbeat.

Sam caressed your upper arm, his mind running with a thousand thoughts in which a thousand and one consisted of you. 

“Hey, want to know something?” Sam asked. He was taking advantage of the situation because now he was confident enough to do so, and he wasn’t delaying this any further if his mind would allow him. You lazily looked up at him, your chin now resting on him. Your eyes stared at him with so much appreciation that he felt even more encouraged to tell you what he wanted to.

“I think I love you” He blurted out. You felt your face warm up and smiled widely, but didn’t lose the opportunity to tease him for his choice of words.

“You think?” You raised an eyebrow. Sam panicked inside.

“No, I mean that–”

“I think I love you too” You interrupted before he could say anything else, your giddy smile never faltering. Sam relaxed and pulled you in for a kiss to seal this promise.

Who would’ve thought that Sam would have his dream come true at the end of everything. Yet, here you were, half-asleep in his arms after you admitted your love for each other.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading. XoXo

[anantaru]

"this," neuvillette says, taking straight aim at the string of your little panties, "needs to go." before tearing til the cloth gives in beneath his rough fingers, sooner than ripping it off your body entirely until it was gone, broken and thrown on the floor.

the mysterious man sinks to this knees against the edge of the bed at last and holds you by your trembling ankles, keeping your legs apart, eyes drawing from left to right over your wet pussy, a gentle smile slowing its way to his lips.

neuvillette finds the shape of you attractive, your breasts and thighs, your lips and neck, how your chest rises and falls whenever he inches closer to your wet core— it's the end of his restraint, the decision that he wouldn't keep himself away from you and it's noteworthy to say that he had glossed over his every lust upon your figure and yet still you had clung to him, despite his attempts to keep you away, you have been there at all times and smiled brightly whenever he engaged in conversation with you— and ultimately whenever your ways parted, he was almost sweetly begging for more, for another five minutes with you alone.

neuvillette hums satisfactory, drawing his first, long finger up the inside of your warm thighs, reaching your wet hole and you arch your back off the mattress when he runs the blunt edge of a fingernail along your entrance, digging deeper, feeling you out.

his head slants forward until you could sense his breathing reach your folds, "how soft." he says, though it feels like he was making a gentle reminder for himself. "do you touch yourself like that?" your eyes shoot open at his sudden, unusual question and you avert your face in shyness, more so a subtle notion of shame as you couldn't bring yourself to answer his question.

"ah." he sighs, muffled, "no matter." quite obvious, he knew the answer, the way you had already been drenched down there, your slick messing up the bed sheets from nothing more than a finger— on top of that, he can feel your shivers and flinches spread through your limbs and into your hot, spongy core, your little hole parting as he pushes steadily, urgently working his finger on you.

you make a throaty cry and moan out, hips thrusting into his fingers, closing your doused eyes when he places a light kiss on your clit, his lips sticking on your flesh by just how wet he has gotten you, continuing to work his digit in gingerly— in and out, in and out, past the first and second knuckle until you're breathing in deep, exhaling sharply through your nose, holding in your cute noises.

you suddenly groan as he presses in you deeper, your hole contracting around nothing when he quickly removes his finger to replace it with his eager tongue instead, tasting you for the first time in this night as a glowing warmth, like an ever-burning flame, flushes over your entire body, your legs weakly resting on his shoulders and trapping him against you.

neuvillette strokes your sopping, wet cunt with the tip of his tongue, throwing his hands up to urgently knead and rub your breasts, greedily handling your nipples before lapping fast and needy stripes on your pussy, your flesh colliding— but he was all in all savoring it, his long pink tongue darting and collecting your slick like it was the finest flavor he had ever memorialized, slowly, taking his precious time, his own deep moans beginning to vibrate into you, and you bite your bottom lip back and cry out his name when you dare to look down.

�� 2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[idkyetxoxo]

Gwayne Hightower - Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Summary - They risk everything to indulge in their illicit passion, knowing their stolen moments could shatter trust, but as their hunger for each other deepens, so does the danger of discovery and the thrill of keeping their affair hidden may be the very thing that destroys them.

Pairing - Gwayne Hightower x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2235

Masterlist for Gwayne • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

I, I loved you in secret, first sight, yeah, we love without reason.

"What would your sister think?" I asked, my chest heaving with the intensity of the moment. 

His breathing mirrored mine, ragged and unsteady, each exhale a mix of need and uncertainty. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips slightly parted. The space between us was charged, filled with an unspoken tension that could only be broken by action.

"She would understand," he murmured, though his voice held a wavering note. His thumb brushed softly against my swollen lips, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. 

I wasn't sure if he was convincing himself or me. 

I could feel the rapid beat of my heart against my ribs, each pulse a reminder of the danger we were dancing around.

"We are good friends," I whispered, my words barely audible as his mouth found my neck, his lips trailing a path that made my breath hitch. His hands were clumsy yet urgent as they fumbled with the laces of my dress, his touch growing bolder with each passing second.

"I do not think she would be pleased," I managed to say, though my voice was already trembling, his kisses growing more insistent. He paused for a moment, his gaze locking with mine, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defiance. 

In one swift movement, he began to strip away his own clothing, the fabric falling to the floor like a discarded pretence.

"Then do not tell," he said, his voice a low rumble, filled with a daring challenge. I began to slide my dress down the rest of the way, feeling the cool air against my heated skin. 

His gaze raked over me hungrily, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his eyes darkening with an intensity that made my knees weak.

"And if she finds out?" I asked, my voice softer now, almost a plea. I felt the weight of his stare as his eyes roamed my exposed body, the heat between us growing almost unbearable.

"It will be our secret," he replied, his lips capturing mine once more with a fierce urgency that sent a thrill coursing through my veins.

His hands found the curve of my thighs, lifting me effortlessly as I wrapped my legs around his waist. The cool stone of the wall pressed against my back as he pinned me there, his mouth blazing a trail down my front, leaving a path of fire in its wake. 

I threw my head back, my fingers threading through his hair, each touch, each kiss, driving me deeper into a haze of longing.

Every kiss felt like a step further into a darkness I both feared and craved as if his touch could erase the shame gnawing at my conscience. But every time our bodies met, I was reminded of the line we were crossing the betrayal that would shatter the fragile trust of those we loved.

He shifted us, his breath hot against my skin as he positioned himself between my legs. His hardness teased my wet folds, rubbing against me with deliberate slowness, drawing a soft moan from my lips. 

The anticipation was electric, every nerve in my body strung taut, waiting, aching.

Then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered me, filling me inch by inch. A gasp escaped my lips, the sensation overwhelming, a sweet blend of pleasure and pain. 

He moved with a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and purposeful, each movement designed to drive us both to the edge.

I could feel the tension building inside me, each stroke pushing me closer to the brink. His breath was hot against my ear, his moans low and rough, mingling with my own soft cries as we lost ourselves in the forbidden dance of our bodies. 

The world outside faded away, leaving only this moment our secret, our stolen bliss, our hands metaphorically tied, but our hearts completely free.

"Like that—just like that," I gasped out, my voice breaking as his tip brushed against a spot deep inside me that sent a rush of stars exploding behind my closed eyelids. 

My hands clawed at his back, my nails digging into his skin as if I could anchor myself against the oncoming wave of pleasure.

"Quieten down, darling," he murmured, his voice a rough whisper that sent a shiver through me. 

His head dipped to rest in the crook of my neck, the scent of him overwhelming, a mix of desire and something primal. 

I pressed my lips to his shoulder, biting down to muffle the cries that were threatening to escape, my breath hot against his skin. 

His hands tightened on my hips, fingers digging in, holding me in place as he thrust deeper, his movements more insistent, more demanding.

"I'm so close," I breathed, my words barely audible, caught between a moan and a sigh. 

My eyes squeezed shut as my body trembled, my walls clenching around him, each contraction pulling him deeper, drawing him in.

"Good," he murmured against my skin, his lips brushing the sensitive flesh of my collarbone. His mouth moved with desperate hunger, teeth grazing and nibbling at the delicate skin, his breath hot and erratic.

I could feel the pressure mounting, a delicious ache building inside me, my body teetering on the precipice of release. His voice was in my ear, murmuring unintelligible words of encouragement and desire, a low, gravelly sound that sent another wave of heat pooling low in my belly. 

My hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, needing to feel every inch of him, to lose myself entirely in this forbidden intimacy.

And then it happened a sudden, overwhelming rush, a white-hot wave crashing over me. My body tensed, arching against his as my climax tore through me, my cries muffled against his skin. 

My legs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him as I rode out the wave of pleasure. His rhythm faltered, his own groans growing louder, more uncontrolled, and I knew he was close, too.

"Yes—yes," I whispered, encouraging him, my voice breathless and broken. 

His movements grew erratic, desperate, each thrust more powerful than the last as he chased his own release. When he finally came, I felt it in the way his body tensed, the way his breath hitched, his moans vibrating against my skin.

We stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, our breaths heavy and mingling in the small space we had carved out for ourselves in a world that could never understand. 

Our hearts still raced, our bodies still humming with the aftershocks of our stolen bliss.

There was a comfort in the silence, in the weight of him against me, but it was laced with the bitter sting of reality seeping back in.

"We do not tell," I repeated softly, my voice breaking the quiet, the words more a plea than a statement. I needed him to confirm it, to reassure me that this secret could remain ours alone, safe from the world outside.

He nodded, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips as he brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. 

"We won't," he promised, his voice steady, filled with a certainty I wanted desperately to believe in. "Nothing will happen."

I nodded back, forcing a smile of my own, but the knot of doubt in my chest refused to untangle.

I could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets, picture of your face in an invisible locket. You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it I had a bad feeling.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The chalice in my hand had become a small comfort, its familiar weight grounding me in a way that nothing else could in this moment. 

I wished, however, that it was filled with wine, something potent enough to dull my thoughts and soothe my frayed nerves instead of the sweet fruit tea that Rhaenyra favoured so much. 

I took a sip, trying to hide my unease behind the delicate rim, but the sugary liquid only served to remind me of the tension knotted in my chest.

Each time the rim touched my lips, I thought of Gwayne's kisses, the way they tasted sweeter when stolen.

We were seated in the garden, surrounded by the buzz of court life as it thrummed around us, our idle chatter mingling with the distant sounds of knights sparring and the rustle of leaves in the late afternoon breeze. 

Rhaenyra, ever vibrant, was happily gossiping, her laughter bright as she tossed playful remarks to Alicent and me. It should have been a lighthearted moment, but my mind was elsewhere, lost in a sea of conflicted thoughts.

"He is rather charming, isn't he?" Rhaenyra's voice pulled me from my musings, and I followed her gaze to see Gwayne standing across the garden, deep in conversation with another knight. 

His easy confidence and the way he held himself always drew attention, and today was no exception.

"Yes," I murmured, my voice quieter than I intended. I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral as I tore my gaze away. 

Rhaenyra hummed thoughtfully, her eyes still fixed on Gwayne before she turned her attention to Alicent, a playful glint in her eyes.

"He's my brother, Rhaenyra," Alicent chided, nudging her friend lightly with her elbow, though there was no real admonishment in her voice.

Rhaenyra smirked, unfazed. "And I'm not allowed to find him handsome because of that?"

Alicent shook her head, laughing softly. "No, because then you'd be betraying me. Isn't that right?" She turned to me, expecting my agreement, but I was too lost in my own thoughts to respond.

Gwayne's eyes found mine from across the garden, and he sent me a quick, secretive wink. My breath hitched, and I forced a small, polite smile in return, trying to mask the flutter of nerves that sparked inside me. 

I glanced away, hoping neither girl noticed the way my fingers tightened around my chalice.

Rhaenyra's voice cut through the silence, drawing me back. She tapped my cheek gently, her expression concerned. "What's the matter?"

Alicent nodded in agreement, her brow furrowing as she leaned closer. "You seem unfocused and quiet today"

I set my chalice down, the cool metal clinking softly against the table as I swallowed hard, searching for an excuse. 

"I... I simply don't feel well," I lied, my voice faltering slightly. Standing up quickly, I tried to steady myself under their watchful gazes. "Perhaps I will see you two later."

Without waiting for their response, I hurried away, my steps quickening as I made my way down the stone path toward my chambers. 

My mind was racing, guilt clawing at my insides. I couldn't shake the feeling that Alicent knew, that somehow, she could sense the secret I was desperately trying to keep hidden.

Just as I turned a corner, a hand shot out, gripping my arm and pulling me into a hidden alcove. I opened my mouth to scream, but another hand swiftly covered it. My heart pounded wildly, fear flooding my veins until I looked up and saw Gwayne's familiar, mischievous smile. 

Relief washed over me, but it was tinged with irritation.

"Gwayne!" I hissed, slapping his chest as he stifled a laugh. "You frightened me!"

His grin widened, eyes twinkling with amusement. "I scared you?" he asked, feigning innocence. "That was not my intention, I swear it."

"Sneaking up on me like that—what else did you expect?" I said, trying to sound stern, but my voice betrayed the smile tugging at my lips. 

His hands slid around my waist, pulling me closer, and I let myself sink into his touch despite my better judgment.

"I couldn't resist," he murmured, pressing soft, lingering kisses along my neck. 

The warmth of his breath sent shivers down my spine, and I fought to keep my composure, my hand instinctively pushing against his chest.

"Gwayne, someone might see us," I protested weakly, casting a nervous glance over my shoulder. But his grip tightened, his lips trailing up to my ear, teasing and deliberate.

"No one will see," he assured, his voice low and thick with desire as his hands roamed my sides. "We're alone." 

His touch was intoxicating, and I bit down on my lip, struggling to suppress the soft moan building in my throat, knowing that any sound would only encourage him further.

My resolve wavered as his fingers traced the curve of my waist, each touch stoking the fire he so effortlessly ignited in me. 

"At least come into my chambers," I whispered breathlessly, barely able to think straight under his heated gaze.

Gwayne pulled back, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. 

"As you wish," he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. He released me just enough to let me lead the way, following closely behind with an eagerness that sent a thrill through me.

As we made our way through the winding halls, my heart hammered with both anticipation and fear. The risk, the danger of being discovered, only heightened the urgency between us. 

But for now, with Gwayne's presence so close and his touch still lingering on my skin, all thoughts of consequence faded, leaving only the intoxicating pull of a forbidden desire that neither of us seemed able or willing to resist.

I, I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us.

A/n - I too would risk it all for an affair with Gwayne x

Gwayne tag list - @deniixlovezelda

[sturnioz]

fratboy! chris wanting to have phone sex on ft when him and shy!reader both go home for holiday break 🤭

"uh-huh. yeah, a'ight," chris murmurs, his voice a low hum as he leans back against the familiar backdrop of his childhood bedroom, listening to you animatedly babble over facetime.

you're filling him in on everything you've been doing since arriving home for the holiday break; diving into long explanations about cosy family dinners, catching up with old high-school friends, and even the plans that have been made for the upcoming days, wanting to share every detail possible.

but then chris shifts slightly, propping himself against the pillows as he interrupts your flow. "so, what are you uh.. what are you wearin'?"

your words come to an abrupt halt at his unexpected question, your eyebrows pinching together as you glance down at yourself, "my sweatpants and an old shirt.. i actually got this from—"

"i'm not talking about that, kid. fuckin'—" chris sighs, rubbing at his forehead in frustration and you frown at him, trying to decipher his expression on the screen as he raises his head back up. "i'm talkin' about your underwear, kid. like what you wearin' beneath all that?"

"oh..." you murmur, cheeks feeling a little hot as you mindlessly pull at the hem of your shirt. "just my panties."

"yeah?" chris hums, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he folds one arm behind his head. "wanna uh... wanna show me?"

you're nervous and hesitant to follow through with his request, but you hold your phone up above you, awkwardly lifting your hips to pull down your sweatpants just a bit to reveal the waistband your cotton panties.

chris sucks in a deep breath, and the arm that he put behind his head a few moments prior was moved out of frame. you watch as he shifts again, the sound of his bedsheets rustling as he moves.

"take them off."

"take... take them off?" you repeat. you were making sure that you heard him correctly, despite his words being clear as day through the slight raspy tone he used. when he hums in response, you swallow thickly, eyes darting towards your bedroom door to ensure it's locked before propping your phone against the lamp on your bedside table.

you don't exactly put on an attractive performance as you clumsily and awkwardly tug off your sweatpants, which makes you want to hang up the call and not talk or see him again until you've recovered from embarrassment, but chris seems to be enjoying the show as he watches you, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his camera shaky as he takes you in.

"go reaaaaal slow for me, 'kay? wanna see you, bun." chris' voice rasps into the speakers, and the heat crawls up your neck as your fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs just like he asked. "good girl... jus' like that."

you place your panties to the side, pressing your thighs together to cover yourself up, feeling way too exposed like this.

"chris—"

"nah, open up f'me. told you that i wanna see you, yeah?" chris reminds you, and you nod your head slowly, parting your legs to bare yourself to him and he grunts, rolling his head back against the pillow, his camera more shakier. "fuckin' crazy what you do t'me when y'not even here... look, bun."

you lean in close to your phone, your eyes widening and lips parting with a light gasp as he moves his camera down, showing you his hand fisting around his cock. you can hear his grunts through the speakers, and you rush to grab the device and turn the volume down when he curses loudly, not wanting anyone in the house to hear what's going on behind the four walls of your bedroom.

"get your earphones or somethin', kid," chris tells you, bringing his camera back up to his face. "get them 'n put them on, yeah? 'cos m'gonna be sayin' some shit and m'gonna make you cum. hurry up."

[celestialprincesse]

going home to best friend simon after a failed blind date (where the guy ridiculed you for what you were wearing, or made you feel stupid or something) and he makes you feel better by finally kissing you the way he’s wanted to for so many years 🥹

🌃🛋️🐆🎱

You hadn't been on a date in far too long. Two months, actually, nearly three. In all honestly, you'd grown sick of spending countless hours scrolling through dating apps, only to be rewarded with unwarranted dick pics and texts at stupid hours of the morning asking 'u up?'. Having had enough of small talk, and being treated like a sentient blow up doll, when your friend had offered to set up a blind date after your whining over a cheap bottle of red, you'd eagerly agreed. Surely, you'd thought, she'd vet the potential date, and you trusted her taste - which was your first mistake.

The second would be actually expressing yourself when going to meet a man you've never been introduced to before. The way he stares down at your shoes with disdain as you walk into the restaurant, or scowls when you order a cocktail is agonisingly obvious, and has you on edge the whole night. Unable to help the way you sigh in relief as you split the bill and get ready to leave, you vow to never do this to yourself again - and then proceed to cry in the cab all the way home.

Simon, conveniently, is standing in the kitchen when you get home, kicking off your favourite heels with a huff, and proceeding to further blubber when they smack against the cabinet and the heel comes loose.

"Bad date?" Your roommate questions, shaking you from the spiral of self pity you're rapidly descending.

"Why do I do this to myself," You huff, perhaps a little dramatically as you throw your purse on the counter, before sitting up on the marble surface to better face Simon - and ease your aching feet. "Like - genuinely - why do I do this to myself? Men are assholes."

Simon only provides you with an bemused hum as he rifles through the kitchen cabinets and fridge. "Grilled cheese?"

"Mhm. M' starving." You scoff, reminded suddenly of the incredulity you'd felt having paid for half of the bill - when you'd only had a salad (ordered for you no less), whilst your 'date' had gorged himself on a rump steak and fries right before your face. Asshole.

Watching Simon's back, straining against his t-shirt as he dutifully prepares you something to eat that doesn't comprise of soggy lettuce and split sauce, you can't help but to sigh, lost in thoughts of why all men aren't like him, and how if he wasn't your roommate, and if you weren't drunk and extremely fragile emotionally, you'd absolutely jump his bones given half the chance.

So distracted, in fact, that you fail to notice the plate of sizzling melty, cheesy goodness placed beside you on the counter, and the crooked smile Simon offers as he stands between your legs, resting his hands either side of you.

"They don't deserve you." He offers, perhaps - no, definitely - out of pity, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing against your cheekbone in one of the softest gestures you've felt in a long time. "Nobody deserves you."

"You do." You can't help the words that spill from your lips, worse still, your eyes darting to his own mouth, breath catching when his tongue darts out to wet them on a subconscious instinct, taunting you.

Stupid, stupid, stupid - is probably what your brain would scream at you when your lips crashed against Simon's - if you gave a shit. Which you don't.

And you're so glad you don't, because the way he kisses you back is practically sinful, all encompassing as he nips at your bottom lip and pulls you closer by the hips with such startling ease that you have to pull back. But of course, by some cruel twist of fate, or maybe just some terribly bad luck, when you go back to kiss him a second time, he stops you, a frown pulling at his dirty blond brows.

"Not now." He whispers, voice hoarse and eyes burning right through your very skull. "Not when you're feeling like this. Not because I don't want to - because, fuck, I do - but not now. I want you when you're ready - and not drunk, preferably. Eat your grilled cheese and we'll get you to bed."

🌃🛋️🐆🎱

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

You’ve never had head, Eddie’s never given head, and Steve… he’s got a whole lot of hair and experience.

No one really sugar coated anything. It was a simple gathering of three friends at Eddie’s newly purchased trailer (also know as, the one to the left of Wayne’s). Everyone else in the group had plans, so Steve drove you to Eddie’s, all the while knowing something was bothering you. It ended up being Eddie to tease it out of you.

“Never had a guy eat my pussy before.” Your lips wrapped around the neck of your bottle.

Eddie sputtered on his, Steve’s brows rose in surprise.

“But you’ve had sex, right? I thought you said —“ Steve tried, only for you to cut him off.

“Yes, I’ve had sex a few times, but they’ve never eaten me out. I mean, do you guys even like doing that? My date said I was too slimey.” You’re embarrassed to even admit.

Steve scoffed as Eddie wiped the beer off his chin. “I’m surprised the jerk-off was even able to get you that wet.”

You pick at the label of the dark glass. Steve runs a massive hand through his hair, his voice gentle, protective. “Is that what’s been bothering you all night?”

To which, you nod. You both turn towards Eddie as he clears his throat, adding in his two cents. He tucks a set of loose strands behind his freshly pierced ear, that circular charm dangling. “Uh, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve never eaten a girl out before. But I’m all for slime time. That’s a good thing, right?”

Steve marveled, briefly entertained at how backward the two of you looked. He wasn’t stupid, you’d been flirting with one another (the three of you) off and on for a while now. Bringing this up, it would be a wasted opportunity to be with his two favorite people. And the idea, it struggles to keep up with the swelling between Steve’s legs. That weirdly in synch look that you shared, Steve knew it was the correct decision.

“Let me show you guys?”

You found yourself less awkward to be naked around your two best-friends, guys you thought about constantly, in ways you probably shouldn’t have. Still, when it came time to step out of your panties, and the wet spot clung from your cunt to the crotch of the fabric — you let some nerves show. Eddie was frozen, in his boxers, hard as a rock, both men observing your body in a way that had everyone holding their breaths, appreciating scars and marks alike. And Steve, he took suave control in his own tight briefs, that monster on display. His hands found your shoulders, rubbing up and down your flesh.

His voice sounded jagged, honey-hot, pouring out across his tongue as he licked his bottom lip and bent down to kiss you on your shoulder. “You wanna get on the bed, honey?”

“Should I… towel?” You’re giving them another chance, afraid of how soaked you are.

Eddie immediately said no, making Steve chuckle. “It’s okay. You’ll let us know if it’s not, right?”

You were all too eager to slide onto Eddie’s king sized mattress, arousal webbed from you, dripping onto the sheets. Eddie reminds himself not to do the laundry for another day. Both men joined you - Eddie on the right, Steve to the left. It’s basics, mechanics, foreplay from there.

If Steve Harrington has to pick a sight to remember when dying — this would be it. Seeing Eddie Munson grind himself into the bed as you ride his face, pulling so hard on his hair, that Steve’s cock kicks up imagining how Munson’s scalp must feel. Your tits bounce with every thrusting movement, eyes glossed over with tears and looking up at the ceiling. You’re panting with exertion, breaths getting choppier. And the second that Steve says “Fingers” for Eddie to remember - you’re literally screaming, uncaring.

“I’m gonna cum,” you suddenly shout, teetering dangerously close. The only things you can see are vivid shapes, eyes darting around rapidly to find your boys through the haze. How your heart is full for them, how you’re trembling.

Eddie pauses and lifts, his face covered and shiny. He’s misty eyed, panting, overwhelmed. But your cream covered curls, your essence on his fingers that are tightening around him, Steve’s blown pupils as he looks over at him — he wants to keep you two here.

“Why did you…?” You’re whining, tilting, trying to fuck yourself onto his fingers.

“Dude, why’d you stop?” Steve is looking incredulous, inching closer, his hard cock pressing at your hip. You blindly reach for him, working yourself up, legs swaying. Steve slides up fast and presses his palm over your thigh to flatten it.

“You okay?” He checks in with Eddie, which makes you also do the same. You tell them you’re fine, Eddie answers next.

“I’m… yeah, man. Just wanted to make sure I was doing fine.”

“Well a girl tells you she’s gonna cum, that means you’re doing great, bud.” Steve can’t help but to look at his (friend?) fondly. He reaches out to pushes along Eddie’s sweat slick curls.

Once you see that things are okay, you feel yourself relaxing back into things, Eddie’s finger still inside. Steve hears you shakily exhale. He folds, tilting his head as he leans back down, Eddie resuming his position. “Come here, honey. We’re gonna let you come, I promise you. You’re doing so good. You feeling good?” You give a nod. “Yeah?”

You smile lazily.

“Steve?”

He switches his gaze from the curly haired rocker between your thighs. “Hmm?”

“Will you put a finger inside of me too?”

Eddie moans, a sound so deep that it has him raising his face to stare Harrington down, pleading with him to do it. Steve has never been so eager, wiggling his digit towards you, watching you accept it with a swirl, licking like you’re on a mission. You really don’t need it, but Steve does it anyways, letting his arm elongate to give you what you ask for — his cock dribbling into his boxers the second that his thick finger slides into your overly wet walls, right beside Munson’s. Everyone moves in unison, Eddie eating like a starved man, Steve working that spot to the point where he knows what’s gonna happen before you or Eddie do. It’s a fun surprise watching your eyes widen and automatically find Steve’s as it happens, Eddie literally rutting maniacally into the bed as your squirt soaks his face, the sheets, Steve’s arm, even his leg.

Watching the two of you come, sends Steve grinding into your thigh, spare hand cupping the nape of your neck, face hiding in your breasts, as he releases heavily into his briefs. The aftermath is slow, beating hearts, lines crossed. There’s disbelief, nervous wonder. You asking them if they’re alright is what brings them back to earth, each guy taking a place beside you, mingled breathing patterns trying to reset. It’s an unspoken agreement, a must provide, when Steve is kissing you softly, reaching for Eddie like he doesn’t care what people would say anymore, meeting his mouth. This is what he wants, it’s what you all need.

[the-californicationist]

The Window (Ch. 03)

Ch. 01 // Ch. 02 // Ch. 03 --- AO3

TW: breeding kink, reverse harem

You were sweating buckets in this brush cover, waiting for the enemy to pop their head over the fence. Beads of salty perspiration ran down your face in thin rivulets, threatening your eyes and soaking into your keffiyeh. 

“You alright, little bird?” Price whispered down to you breathlessly, passing you his canteen. 

You nodded, drinking from the plastic container, slaking your thirst. You shouldn’t have been having such a hard time with the Urzikstani heat, but you were. It didn’t help that you’d gotten sick yesterday off of a bad MRE. You were just ready for this mission to be over with. 

“I didn’t hurt you last night, did I, Spar?” Ghost asked, checking his sights again, not taking his eyes off of the target. 

“No,” you shook your head, “I’m alright.”

Ghost’s comment made your memory of your night together rush back, bombarding you with ghosts of your mens’ tantric sensations all over again. 

Price had read another book about fertility, some ancient text from a few centuries ago, translated into English. And he’d been convinced that tantra was the way to go. 

“Slow down, Simon. Keep your breathing up, yeah just like that. From your belly. Tha’s a good lad,” the captain coached. 

John’s setup was very specific. All of their bodies were sandwiched around you as you lay with your back on Price’s chest, propped up into a lounging position, and Soap and Gaz were glued to your sides, each worshiping a breast at their commander’s instruction. 

Soap’s hand was glued to your belly, just above your mons, pressing down gently, squeezing you. Gaz’s hand was on your midsection, hopefully covering the right chakra, and Price’s hands were on your chest and forehead, holding your eyes up, staring into Simon’s struggling face. Meanwhile, Ghost was sheathed deep inside of you, rotating his hips without fully removing his cock, churning himself inside of you like a big, burly engine, breathing like he was running a marathon. 

You, too, were breathing. In when he breathed in, out when he breathed out. All of you were rubbing and massaging and inhaling and exhaling. It was overwhelming. You’d never been so wet in your life. You were so soft and pliant inside of your core that you could feel every micro movement that Simon performed. If he had actually been pounding into you like he normally did, you would have been a screaming, crying mess. 

“Alright, little bird. Don’t forget your exercises,” Price reminded you, kissing your neck. You could feel John’s drooling cock as it lolled against your lower back, twitching as he watched his lieutenant work you into a froth. 

You did as you were told, completing the ritual by squeezing your smooth, internal muscles around Ghost’s impossibly fat dick on every down breath. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Ghost grunted through his teeth, baring them like a wounded wolf, “I can’t…”

You raised your hands to cup his cheeks, feeling the jagged scar that cut across his mouth, and you guided his lips to yours, kissing him as gently as you could, barely letting your tongue dart out to taste him. 

Between your throbbing pussy and his soft kisses, that was all it took to push you both over the edge. He came in hot, thick bursts, more than you’d ever felt from him, and he ground his hips into yours almost menacingly. 

“Alright,” Price kissed your cheek, his face so close to Simon’s it made your head spin, “You ready?”

You didn’t respond. You just felt your legs being spread apart by six strong hands. Then, each of Price’s men began to finger you, slowly pressing their longest digits into your come-filled hole. They began to gently — ever so gently — rub Ghost’s thick cream into you, as deep as it would go, stretching you and playing in you in a life-altering way, bringing you beyond the point of orgasm and into some sort of other-worldly bliss. 

For the cherry on top, your captain began to swipe long, wet circles over your clit. You were screaming so loudly that he had to use his other hand to cover your mouth, shushing you but not stopping his ministrations.  

“Tha’s a good girl. Let it out, little bird.”

You passed out from the overstimulation before you could witness Price’s orchestrated tantra come to a close, and you wondered if you would survive round two. 

Now, as you crouched behind these scratchy bushes, you weren’t sure how much more effective tantric sex would be at getting you pregnant, but it didn’t matter. 

You already were. 

You hadn’t told them yet. From everything you’d read, these first few weeks were a toss-up. Anything could happen, and the last thing you needed was to get everyone’s hopes up. You were also being deeply selfish. What would your relationship be like when you finally found out who the father was? You didn’t want to lose out on the incredible bond you’d built with them over these last three months. 

Your eyes saw movement. Then, you heard the cracking and popping sound of bullets striking the side of the building you were huddled against. Suddenly, a loud bang rang out overhead and all was silent once more. Soap came on the radio and said, 

“Target down.” 

“I’m hit,” you whispered, staring down at your leg with disbelief. A bullet must have ricocheted and struck you in the calf. In and out. A clean wound. 

“What?” Price said breathlessly, staring down at you as the blood began to stain your pants. 

“Oh, fuck!” Gaz scrambled over to you and scooped you up, rushing you back inside. He put pressure on the wound and wrapped it up tight, opening up his comms, “Hey! We need med-evac right fucking now!”

Johnny came down from his crow’s nest and knelt in front of you, holding your hand, 

“Those fuckin’ bastards,” he looked furious, “I wasnae fast enough.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head, feeling your blood pressure rise, “I think it was a stray shot.”

You heard Price’s low growl as he came over the radio, screaming at Laswell’s extraction team, 

“Where’s my fuckin’ helo?”

You watched as Price and Ghost stripped the makeshift base back to its bones, stuffing all of your gear into the bags. Gaz and Soap were on you like glue, forcing you to elevate your leg and to drink water. Rubbing your forehead, trying to relieve the pain. 

It was a long thirty minutes back to the base. Price held you in his arms all the way through the building, pushing everyone out of the way. You were flanked by the others, like one big, sweaty bodyguard squad, just for you. 

The medics took you from Price, ushering your team out of the infirmary, fighting their protests to stay with you.

“It’s a GSW to the leg, captain. I think she’ll live,” the doctor rolled his eyes and shut the door. 

After that, the only thing you could remember was coming around, still groggy from the anesthetic, listening to the doctor’s voice just outside the room, muffled and murky,

“...no complications. Should heal up in a few weeks. The baby’s lifesigns are all norm—”

“Baby?!” 

The door to the infirmary shuddered like a bomb went off, and all four men poured into the room, still dressed in their gear from your mission. They hadn’t even gone back to their quarters, worried sick, pacing the hallway. Now, here they were, wide-eyed and staring at you for some explanation. 

There was a long pause as you tried to figure out what to say. But then, Soap said it for you, a hint of hurt in his voice,

“You knew.”

It wasn’t a question, so you didn’t answer him. You simply put your hands over your belly, protectively, stammering an excuse,

“I didn’t — You shouldn’t get your hopes up. It’s too soon.”

They all spoke at once, an eruption of emotion in the tiny room, 

“...should’ve told us at once! We…”

“...you felt you had to hide it…”

“...could’ve been killed on this mission! How could…”

The doctor came back inside, huffing at the scene,

“What the fuck is this? Mamma Mia? Get the hell out! She needs rest. Get! That’s an order, Captain.”

Price and his men were silent, sorely cowed by the doctor’s orders. Soap came to your side, kissing your forehead,

“See you soon, bonnie.”

Ghost gave you a soft smile and followed him out. Gaz brushed the hair out of your face and put his hand over yours as they lay across your belly, waiting for flutters and kicks that weren’t there. His full lips found yours and he left you wordlessly.

John was the last to leave. He looked like he was at war with himself, fighting over what to say and how to say it. His boonie hat was twisted in his hands, rolled in his palms, crushed by his immense strength. He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t even say goodbye. But, those bright blue eyes bored into yours, telling you everything you needed to know. 

You were released with a pair of crutches the following morning, and while you didn’t need them there, none of the boys showed up to help you like you thought they would. You made it all the way back to your quarters before you ran into Laswell. 

“Hey, Sparrow. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll live. Where is the 141? Is there a training or something?”

“No,” Laswell knitted her brow, not wanting to share her news, “You’ve been… temporarily reassigned. They have redeployed on another mission. Three days in Aqtabi. I’m sure they’ll touch base when they get back.”

“Reassigned?” You couldn’t believe it. You knew Price was protective, but this was going too far, “I’m… He took me off the team?”

“It’s temporary. Just until…” You watched in disbelief as her eyes trailed down not to your wound but to your belly, “Well, anyway, congratulations, soldier.”

She gave you a soft smile and left you standing in the hallway, experiencing every emotion at once, and landing on anger. No, not anger. White-hot rage.

[revelboo]

I'm so sorry for the likes spam. I just find your work phenomenal, and I LOVE coming back to it every day.

No worries

18+ mass displaced mech 🌶️

Stand Too Close Pt 8

IDW Prowl x Reader

• Mouth sliding against his, you’re liquid fire in his lines, thrumming through his spark as your little tongue traces the seam of his lips and he growls as he lets you in. Taking over the kiss, servos tangling in your hair as he claims your mouth, demanding and letting out all of his frustrations in the feel of your mouth under his, glossa sliding against your tongue. Knowing just how terrible an idea this is, but needing to feel someone touch him even if there’s no affection in that touch. Shifting against you to pin you better when you try to wiggle in his grip, hooking a leg around his hip, little fingers catching the jutting blade of the chevron on his helm and tugging.

• He makes a low guttural noise where his mouth is still on yours, hips pinning you more firmly. The hands not buried in your hair finally letting go of your other wrist, sliding along your side and gripping your hip, your butt in his big hand. And then he bites your lip, the little sting making you gasp, his optics so much less icy as he actually smiles down at you, the twist of his lips cocky. “I hate you,” you hiss, tongue darting out to check to make sure you’re not bleeding as he slides down your body, venting against you.

• Hate? He almost laughs, hands sliding under your top, pulling it up over your head. Those angry eyes dark with need, looking up at him as he runs a palm over your exposed skin. Mapping you out with his servos. “How much do you hate me?” He growls, servos fumbling with the closure of your pants, before he just yanks them down over your hips. Needing to know if this is possible, because you’re his. Servos sliding over your hip, spreading your thighs and finding you slick for him, his spike aching as he frees it. Sees your eyes widen as you suck in a breath, then his mouth is on your hip, denta biting and nipping as he cups you. Spearing a servo into that wet, welcoming heat. “Tell me,” he demands between nips, leaving the imprint of his denta in little crescents on that soft skin, not biting hard enough to break the skin, but enough that you’ll have little reminders that you’re his.

• Shuddering as he strokes that servo inside you and presses another bite to the curve of your hip, you’re aware of the noises you’re making. “Hate everything about you,” you manage, hips lifting as he curls that servo, still stroking to send your thoughts scattering. “Your stupid, growly voice, your big hands.” Cupping you, spearing you with that servo. Head falling back when he fucks you a little harder, a little faster, with that servo, still curling it to stroke deep as your hips buck. Needing more. “You’re awful.”

• That throaty noise you make when he slips his wet servo free, the way you glare up at him, breathing raggedly he wants to remember how you look sprawled under him, face flushed and needy. Taking his spike. Shifting himself between your thighs and feeling you shudder when he slides the length of himself against you, finding your core and sheathing himself deep, loving the way your silken heat grips his spike. “Look at me,” he demands, servos tightening on your hip. “Eyes on me.”

• Lips parting as he cups your chin in a big hand, tipping your head with his thumb on your bottom lip as he rocks himself against you in a slow slide. Making you meet his optics. “Fuck, I hate you,” you moan, feeling every bump and ridge of his spike before he’s driving back into you, thumb stroking over your lip, bumping your teeth and you bite him. Feel him shudder against you, door wings trembling as he looses control completely, hips snapping against yours. And you bite down harder, tongue sliding against him as he braces himself and ruts against you. Those optics never leaving your eyes, his denta bared in a snarl.

• Those teeth and that tongue on his servo as he bucks into you, hearing those lovely noises you’re making even with his thumb in your mouth mixing with the wet sounds of your body taking his spike. And those defiant eyes glaring up at him, dark with passion and need. Hating him, wanting him, needing this connection just like he is. Understanding you, because you’re just as awful as he is. The only difference? You don’t care, you can say the things he has to bite down on, do the things he can’t. What would that freedom be like? Body trembling under his as your hands cling to him, you fist his spike, head falling back with a cry and he chases after, hips pumping as he slumps onto a forearm over you, burying himself deep to release inside you. Those eyes still staring up at him and he has no idea what you’re thinking. If you regret what you just did. “Fuck me,” you groan, throwing an arm across your eyes and a startled laugh escapes him as he eases more of his weight against you, hips settling in the cradle of your thighs, mindful not to crush you. And rests his own forehead against your arm, his rough venting mingling with your ragged breathing. Wanting to curl himself around you, but afraid you’ll push him away if he tries to hold you. Not quite enemies, but not friends either.

Previous

Next

[untolduttering]

Pleasure

Summary: You edge Sanji :).

Tags: afab!Reader x Sanji, nsfw, smut, some fluff, edging, unprotected sex, piv

Word Count: 1k

There was a little devil inside of you, one that you were helpless to listen to when it whispered it's encouragements inside your ear. It was spurred on by those tears pricking at the corner of Sanji’s eyes, his hiccuping breaths, and his bucking hips. The way that his pleas spilled from his mouth, slurred, hushed, and desperate. The way that Sanji would do anything to be your good boy, even if it meant he suffered.

You’d lost track of time at this point, solely focused on teasing him. Your hand languidly pumping his cock, slower and slower, rubbing his rosy tip between forefinger and thumb, until you sped it up till just how he liked it. His breathing would quicken, feeling himself coming closer and closer to his sweet release. And then he’d do as you told him.

“I—” his voice broke off, and he had to take a deep, shaky breath to say the rest. “I’m gonna come. Please.”

And once again, you’d let go, preventing his orgasm. He threw his head back and let out a choked sobbed, his hands gripping the sheets beneath. You quickly peppered his face with kisses and rubbed soothing circles into his hip.

“Oh, I know. I know,” you cooed. “But you’re just so cute like this.”

Sanji’s bottom lip was red and swollen from his teeth digging into it. You’d pushed back his bangs earlier, and they remained that way, exposing all of his face to you. Little hairs were plastered to his forehead from his sweat, and his cheeks were flushed. He looked up at you with big, wet eyes, and you felt a sharp sting from the crack opening in your heart. Wet and hot, the bloody love that comes pouring out for him is molten in your chest.

You captured his lips in yours, kissing him deeply. A little sigh escapes his mouth and he buries his hands in your hair, loving any bit of contact you’ll give him. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth and gently bite down, wanting to let a more careful set of teeth show it the love it deserves. Your hand has wandered again, fingertips dancing up and down his torso, enjoying the hair and skin they dragged across. When it went too low, Sanji’s hips twitched, and a soft whine emitted from his throat.

Although he’d been turned into an utter mess, it was pure bliss to Sanji. To have someone take the time to unravel him, to want to feel every part of him and drag out his pleasure for as long as possible blinded him with joy. He couldn’t believe that someone as lovely as you could want to shower him in so much affection. You may have thought yourself somewhat demented to enjoy his cries so much, but he thought of you as something divine for it. He could be weak, he could let his guard down and be so vulnerable, and instead of turning away in disgust at his exposure, you became enraptured by it. It made you want to touch him more. He never knew what to do with himself in these moments, the ministrations made him so dizzy with happiness, and so he simply could do nothing but enjoy it. Something he wasn’t always good at doing.

But it didn’t change how needy and desperate he was for you to let him come. His tongue darted into your mouth as he badly needed some part of himself inside you. The wet heat of your mouth reminded him well of the way your pussy wrapped around his cock, tight and welcoming, and he felt himself shiver and his head swim.

He pulled away, but left his lips ghosting yours, to say, “Mon amour, please, I need you.”

“You need me?” you murmured back. “How do you need me?”

“I need to be inside you. I need to feel you wrapped around me, so warm and soft and sweet. I need you.” His nose scrunched even more as he spoke and the way that his pretty eyes glistened with unshed tears, pleading, you couldn’t say no to him any longer.

You threw your leg over his hips, straddling him, and pressed kisses to his face, throat and chest as you moved. “Yes, yes, of course.” With one hand, you grabbed his cock to line it up with you, and the other you used to hold his hand, tangling your fingers together. You dragged his tip along your folds, letting your fluids cover him and to tease him just a little more. Sanji’s breath shuddered, both at the feeling and at the sight before him. He felt he might go insane.

Finally, you sunk down onto him. The wetness, the heat, the tightness, you, you, you, it all overwhelmed him in the most perfect way. It’s all he’s ever wanted and will continue to want. The moment you bottomed out, he came. He cried out, tears rolling down his cheeks, and gripped your hip with his free hand, doing what he could to thrust up into you.

The initial feeling of his cum painting your insides came as a delightful surprise, but once the shock passed, you rocked your hips to help him ride out his high.

“Thank you, thank you, mon cœur. You feel so good. I’m so sorry, I know I was supposed to last longer, but you’re just so—” His sweet babbling is cut off by another kiss from you. It’s long and passionate, and you pull away with a giggle.

“My silly boy, you did perfectly. You’re so good for me, now let me take care of you.” You hopped off to grab a warm washcloth to clean the both of you. When Sanji tried to sit up, to stop you so he could do the work, you pushed him back down with a firm “stay”.

It was his turn to relax. He was always flitting about, doing what he could to satisfy the needs of others. If someone asked for food, he wouldn’t hesitate to stop whatever else he was doing to feed them. Rarely did he ever give himself a break. And although he never voiced it, you could sometimes tell by the look on his face that his mind would wander to dangerous places, and that meant he wasn’t thinking nicely of himself. You could be taken care of later, for now it was to be all about him, like he always deserved.

[idkyetxoxo]

Criston Cole - Leave It All Behind

Summary - A princess and her knight are entangled in a dangerous affair. As they grapple with the consequences of a mistake, they must make a daring decision to flee their lives of prestige for a chance at love and freedom, risking everything to protect their future.

Pairing - Criston Cole x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!), unexpected pregnancy

Word count - 2109

Masterlist for Criston • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"God's Criston," I gasped, rocking my hips back and forth. 

The night was thick with silence, broken only by the soft rustling of the sheets and our ragged breaths. We were in my chambers, the moon casting a silver glow through the windows, illuminating our naked forms on the bed. 

My legs straddled his large thigh, his face was buried in my chest, his tongue darting out to swirl against my hardened nipples. The sensation sent shivers down my spine, and I could feel the heat pooling between my thighs.

"Ser Criston," I repeated, my voice more urgent this time. 

I stretched my neck, tilting my head back as I began moving more quickly. The friction of my wetness against his muscular thigh was intoxicating, each motion sending a delicious wave of pleasure through my core.

My hand darted out, rubbing against my clit in quick, desperate motions, seeking the friction I so badly desired. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through my body, but it wasn't enough. 

I needed more of him, all of him.

"I want more," I finally breathed. It was a plea, a command, an admission of my deepest desire.

He paused, lifting his head from my chest to look up at me with those deep, brown eyes. He licked his swollen lips as I ran my fingers through his hair, halting my movements for a moment.

I lifted my leg, shifting my body so I was now on my knees between his legs. 

"Feel me," I whined, taking his hand in mine and placing it between my thighs. 

His palm cupped my cunt, rubbing back and forth with an intimate familiarity that only heightened my arousal. I couldn't help but moan softly.

"Feel how badly I want you," I breathed, my voice trembling with need.

He sighed in contentment his touch both firm and tender as he explored the wet heat between my legs. I ground against his hand, each movement a silent plea for more.

His fingers found my entrance, teasing me with gentle, probing strokes before slipping inside. I gasped, my body arching into his touch, the sensation of being filled so exquisitely overwhelming. 

His thumb pressed against my clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that sent sparks of pleasure radiating through me.

His other hand came up to cup my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple in a maddeningly slow caress. The dual sensations were almost too much to bear, my body trembling with the intensity of it.

"Please, Criston," I moaned, my hips moving in a desperate rhythm against his hand. "I need you."

He withdrew his fingers suddenly, and I whimpered at the loss.

"We agreed," he began, his voice strained as I gently started stroking his hard length. My hands moved up and down, cupping and squeezing him. "You wanted to keep your virtue intact," he reminded me, his resolve wavering under my touch.

"I do not care anymore," I said simply, my eyes locking onto his. It was as if that was all the confirmation he needed. 

A fire ignited in his gaze, and he pushed me back onto the bed, hovering over me. His lips found the side of my neck, and he began kissing me there, his breath hot against my skin.

He positioned himself, the tip of his length teasing my entrance before he slowly began to enter me. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever felt before, and short gasps escaped my lips. 

My hands braced against his shoulders as he moved inside me with a steady, deliberate pace.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, his voice a low, husky whisper. His pace remained steady as my back arched upward, seeking more of him.

"Gods, yes," I panted, wrapping my legs around his waist, attempting to pull him closer. 

A low chuckle escaped his lips at the sight of me becoming so undone under him. "Needy princess," he taunted, his voice filled with a mix of affection and amusement. 

My eyes snapped shut, my body lifting periodically to meet his thrusts.

"If I knew this is how it felt, I would've given up my virtue a long time ago," I groaned, my words punctuated by his deeper, faster movements. 

Each thrust brought me closer to the edge, and I could feel the tension building, ready to snap at any moment.

His pace quickened, his control slipping as he lost himself in the sensation. The room was filled with the sounds of our lovemaking, a symphony of passion and desire. I clung to him as the pleasure overwhelmed me.

"Criston," I moaned, my voice barely a whisper. "Please, don't stop."

"I won't," he promised, his breath hot against my ear. His movements became more urgent, more desperate as if he too was on the brink of losing control.

And then, with one final thrust, the tension broke. Waves of pleasure crashed over me, and I cried out, my body trembling with the force of my release. He followed soon after, his own release shuddering through him as he collapsed onto me, both of us breathless and spent.

For a moment, we lay there in the aftermath, our bodies entwined, the room filled with the sound of our slowing breaths.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

Weeks had passed since Criston and I had shared a bed. It was not the first time, either; the act had become somewhat of an addiction for us, taking each other whenever and wherever we could. 

Our passion was like an unquenchable fire, consuming us at every opportunity.

We had been careful enough. Criston did not finish inside me, and I had drank moon tea as many times as I could without anyone finding out but it didn't seem to be enough.

"Seven hells," I breathed, pacing the floor of my chambers, awaiting his arrival. 

Anxiety gnawed at me, twisting my stomach into knots. The weight of my secret felt like a heavy cloak suffocating me, each step a reminder of the uncertain future that loomed ahead.

"Princess," Criston greeted as he entered, his smile faltering as he took in my worried state. His presence, usually a source of comfort, now only heightened my anxiety.

"What is the matter?" he rushed out, halting my pacing with gentle hands on my shoulders. His touch was warm and steady, but it did little to calm my racing heart.

"I believe I am with child," I admitted. His mouth fell open, and he took a step back, the news clearly shocking him. The room seemed to close in on us, the air thick with tension.

Even now, my body ached with the aftershocks of our passion, a bittersweet reminder of the life we had created, that same life that could be the end of us both.

"Are you certain?" he managed to ask, his voice barely a whisper as if hoping I was playing a cruel joke. I sighed in frustration, the reality of the situation pressing down on me.

A cold dread settled deep in my bones, how could something so beautiful between us have led to such terrifying consequences?

The gravity of my words hung between us, unspoken yet deafening.

"I have been sick every morrow for the last fortnight," I continued, my voice breaking the heavy silence. "I am sore, and I feel fatigued all the time."

"We were careful," he said, his voice filled with disbelief as if trying to convince himself that this couldn't be happening. The shock in his eyes mirrored my own fears. 

"I have not bled," I added, the confirmation settling between us like a heavy weight. The room was silent, save for the sound of my unsteady breathing.

"You are certain?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper. His question, though simple, cut through the silence with a sharp edge of desperation.

My head snapped towards him, my frustration boiling over. 

"Do you think I wouldn't notice if blood passes between my legs or not?" I retorted, my voice quivering with a mix of fear and anger. His eyes softened, the shock and concern evident in his gaze.

He reached out, trying to pull me into an embrace, but I stepped back, needing space to process. "I apologise," he murmured, his voice filled with regret.

Tears prickled in my eyes, and despite my best efforts to control them, they fell. The enormity of our situation was overwhelming, and I felt a surge of hopelessness.

Criston pulled me into a tight embrace and this time I let him, his strong arms offering a small measure of comfort. "We will figure this out," he whispered into my hair, his voice soothing but tinged with worry.

"But how?" I asked, my voice trembling. "What will we do?"

"We will find a way," he reassured me, his tone more confident now, though I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. His words brought some solace, but the fear still lingered. 

The consequences of our actions loomed over us, and the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore.

"We cannot let anyone find out," I said, pulling back to look into his eyes. "If they do..."

"I know," he interrupted gently, his gaze steady.

"No, you do not," I said, breaking free from his grasp. The distance between us felt vast, a chasm filled with fear and regret. 

"You are sworn to chastity. You have broken your vows, and I have sinned by laying with a man unwed," I continued, my voice rising with desperation. "The realm will want my head on a spike."

"You are the princess," he pointed out, trying to soothe my panic, but his words only intensified my dread.

"Precisely, which is why it matters so much," I countered. "My belly will grow, and the news will not be concealable forever." Each word felt like a dagger, cutting deeper into the fragile hope I clung to.

I could see the wheels turning in his mind as he struggled to find a solution. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with determination.

"Run away with me," he proposed. I looked at him incredulously, unsure if I had heard him correctly. The idea seemed ludicrous, a desperate fantasy.

"We can leave this all behind," he continued, his voice filled with earnestness. "Go somewhere no one will recognize you, and I will make an honest woman of you."

"You would do that?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. The prospect of leaving everything I had ever known was terrifying, yet his resolve gave me a flicker of hope. 

He nodded without hesitation.

"Princess, I would turn the realm upside down for you," he declared, his eyes burning with resolve. "And for our child," he finished, placing a hand gently on my stomach.

His touch was both comforting and grounding. The enormity of what he was suggesting sank in. We would have to leave behind everything we knew, my family, our titles, our lives as we knew them but as I looked into his eyes, filled with love and unwavering determination, I knew I could trust him.

"Where would we go?" I asked, my mind racing with possibilities. Each thought was a mix of fear and excitement, the unknown future both daunting and exhilarating.

"Anywhere but here," he replied, his voice steady. "We can travel to Essos, or even further. We will find a place where we can live in peace, away from the prying eyes of the court and the judgment of the realm."

The idea was both terrifying and exhilarating. To leave behind the only life I had ever known was a daunting prospect, but the thought of starting anew with Criston and our child filled me with hope.

"We would need to leave soon," I said, already planning in my mind. "Before my condition becomes unconcealable."

"We will," he assured me. "We will make the necessary preparations, gather what we need, and leave under the cover of night."

If we were caught, it wouldn't just be our love that would die, our lives would be forfeit, torn apart by the very people who once served us.

As we stood there, holding each other, the weight of our decision settled between us. It was a bold and dangerous plan, but it was the only way to protect our love and our future.

Criston leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a tender, reassuring kiss. I felt a surge of emotion, and tears began to well up in my eyes. The kiss deepened, filled with unspoken promises and the shared burden of our secret. 

My tears now flowed freely, and I felt a mixture of relief and sorrow. Pulling back slightly, Criston wiped away my tears with his thumb, his touch gentle and soothing.

"Do not cry, my love," he whispered, his voice soft and earnest. "We will face this together. I promise you that."

A/n - At least someone's gonna have his baby!

[whereireid]

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 | masterlist

pairing: patrick bateman x fem!reader

— warnings: nsfw content ! bondage, rope, ptrick bateman, p in v, mentions of murderous urges

summary: There's a thin line between pleasure and pain. Patrick lets you walk that line — if anyone else did, it would snap.

"Do you like it?”

Patrick’s voice is sultry, calm; a lewd illusion of the man he is, the desire which consumes him. Being bound to his bed with rope is surreal - you squirm under his cool touch, trying to hide the discomfort which pulsates through you.

“It’s different.” Your voice is hoarse, but you’re honest, and Patrick grins in response. “It feels too tight.”

“I could’ve made it tighter.” Patrick's breath fans your neck, and you’re suddenly more aware of how out-of-place he looks. Whilst you’re naked, splayed in front of him ready to be devoured, he’s fully dressed in a Valentino, classic charcoal, pinstriped double-breasted suit. His suited arms reach up towards your bound wrists, and your eyes flitter shut as you imagine what he would look like naked - how his arms would flex as he loosens the rope slightly. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, Patrick.”

His hum of approval vibrates through you, as his fingers dart over your thighs, before slowly trailing toward your cunt. “I want to do terrible things to you. Do you know that? I want to—“ Patrick’s fingers shake slightly and his voice wavers, his digits darting over your slits and finding a home in your cunt. “—I want to ruin you.”

“But you won’t.” Your eyes squeeze shut as his fingers curl inside you, his hand growing slick with your wetness. Satisfied squelches echo across his bedroom, and your stomach tightens with each come hither motion of his fingers.

“But I won’t.” Patrick agrees, letting out a shaky breath that jitters against your neck. “Because when I start ruining you, I’m not going to be able to stop. I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you were dead and maybe at the end of it all, you would be.”

“So I’m spared,” you breathe, a broken mewl slipping past your lips as Patrick’s fingers effortlessly flicker you closer and closer to an orgasm. There is an imaginary coil inside of you, and it feels as though it is going to snap - the ever-growing pressure on the special spot inside of your cunt is constant, and his motions are consistent, specialized. “You’ll spare me?”

“I’ll do more than spare you. I’m going to fuck you like I love you and maybe I do, but then again, maybe I don’t.”

The crassness of his voice, the harshness of his words, and the overwhelming stimulant of his fingers fucking you so good is what sends you over the edge. The coil snaps - breaks in half, sending shockwaves of electricity pulsing through you, your legs shaking as Patrick continues to toy with your cunt, a bored expression on his face.

“My suit is drenched in your cum.” Patrick comments, slathering your wet against your thighs and stomach, crinkling his nose as he gently begins to undress himself. “Remind me to take this to the dry-cleaners, later.”

The conversation is so… nonchalant, so familiar. He talks to you like he’d talk to a lover - but are you his partner or just his plaything? Cold engulfs you and you shiver, but Patrick tuts, his cock hard and red as he nestles himself between your thighs.

“You’re cold.” He notes.

“I am.” You reply.

Patrick is odd - weird, a loser, but he consumes you. All you can think of day and night is Patrick, his slender fingers and skillful tongue, his angry and red cock which stuffs you perfectly and leaves you forever wanting. “What are you doing?”

Patrick’s fingers toy with the rope on your wrists. “Are they still too tight?”

“No. You fixed them earlier.” It makes your face flush when his cock presses against your slits, somehow perfectly aligned with your clit as he reaches further forward to loosen the restraints a tiny bit more. “Patrick-“

“I think you’re the only person I could ever love,” Patrick interrupts randomly with a mumble, repositioning himself and opening your thighs slightly wider. “If I tried. I could be a good husband, you know, a good father. Do you want that?”

Is he talking to you or himself? You don’t know anymore, letting him ramble on as he slowly pushes his cock inside of you. And it’s amazing - of course - it’s instant ecstasy because you were made for him, and he for you. You sheath him perfectly - and a broken moan bubbles up your throat as he snaps his hips slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in thought and his fingers digging into your thighs, his grip so tight it’s going to leave behind bruises.

“I will never hurt you.” Patrick tells himself - reassures himself, because you know it’s a lie as he’s hurting you right now. All he does is hurt you, leaves you insecure and violated, feeling guilty for the marks you’ve let him leave behind, feeling anguish as he leaves you for his skanky fiancé, night after night. “I will never hurt you. I can’t. I won’t. Do you hear me?”

Quiet gasps leave you as Patrick peppers gentle kisses against your chest. He groans into your skin as he fucks you, his balls heavy and sore as they smack into your ass. The rhythm he has is perfect - hard and slow, and the curve of his cock hits the special spot inside of you and it just feels so, so good. Everything feels amazing - feels perfect. You’re engulfed in him, the scent of his cologne and the nestling of his cock inside of you, and what have you done to deserve this?

“Do you hear me?” Patrick is slightly breathless, his eyes somewhat starry, and he looks down at you with something that could resemble adoration. And you gaze back, lovingly, because you love him, and you nod your head, but you don’t hear him - not really, because you’re too focused on feeling him.

And he feels good. It’s like you’re milking his cock - so tight and clenched down around him as the imaginary coil begins to wither away, your belly growing warm with each snap of his hips. “I want that, Patrick.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he tells himself as he tugs on the rope, leaving your skin burning in its wake. “I won’t.”

You can hear him. It’s a battle with himself. There is a thin line between pleasure and pain with Patrick, and he lets you walk that line. And he will continue to let you do so. Because you walk it prim and proper. You’re so focused on his words; "I could be a good husband, you know, a good father. Do you want that?" that you don’t care when he grips your face so hard it feels like your cheekbones are going to smash and your skull is going to turn into putty.

“Patrick," you gasp, incoherent as you feel his cum begin to fill you. "I want all of you.”

taglist: @makeyoumine69

[skywalker1dream]

Title: High-Speed Desires

note: so what do you think?

Summary: You always loved the thrill of being in the car with Sebastian Vettel, feeling his hand on your thigh as he drove. But when you make him jealous, the ride takes a heated turn as he shows you exactly who you belong to, igniting a passion that neither of you can resist.

Warnings: Explicit language, NSFW content, sexual tension?

.....................

The engine roared to life beneath you, the familiar vibration of the car sending a shiver down your spine. You glanced over at Sebastian, his eyes focused on the road ahead, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other resting possessively on your thigh. It was a gesture you had come to adore, a silent claim over you that spoke volumes.

Tonight, however, things were different. Earlier at the party, you had seen the flash of jealousy in his eyes when you had laughed a little too much at another man's joke, and now, as he drove, you could feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

He tightened his grip on your thigh, fingers digging in deliciously, causing a small gasp to escape your lips. His eyes flicked to you, dark and intense, before returning to the road.

"You think it's funny, don't you?" he said, voice low and dangerously calm. "Flirting with other men, testing my patience."

You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. "I wasn't flirting, Seb. I was just being friendly."

His hand moved higher, squeezing your thigh harder. "Friendly," he repeated, almost to himself. "We'll see how friendly you are when I'm done with you."

The car sped up, the scenery outside a blur as he navigated the winding roads with ease. You watched him, mesmerized by the way he licked his lips, the way his tongue darted out, wetting them before he bit down slightly. Every movement was hypnotic, and you felt your breath quicken, your body responding to the raw masculinity he exuded.

"You belong to me," he growled, his hand slipping dangerously close to your core, making you whimper. "And I'm going to remind you of that."

"Seb," you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "Please…"

He smirked, glancing at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Please what? Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you whispered, shaking your head. "I don't want you to stop."

His hand moved higher, brushing against your panties, and you moaned softly, arching into his touch. "That's what I thought," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You're mine, and I don't share."

You could see the determination in his face, the way his jaw clenched, his muscles tensed. His hand never left your thigh, even as he expertly maneuvered the car. The control he had over both the vehicle and you was intoxicating, and you found yourself unable to look away from him.

"Do you know what I want to do to you?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. "I want to pull over, drag you into my lap, and kiss you, fuck you, until you can't think straight."

You shivered at the thought, your lips parting in anticipation. "Then do it," you challenged, your eyes locking with his. "Show me."

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually do it. But instead, he tightened his grip on your thigh, his fingers brushing against your soaked panties, making you gasp.

"Not yet," he murmured. "First, I want to hear you beg."

You whimpered, feeling the heat pooling between your legs. "Seb, please," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you."

He smirked, his hand moving in slow, tantalizing circles. "That's more like it," he said. "Now, tell me who you belong to."

"You," you breathed, your body trembling with desire. "I belong to you, Sebastian."

"Good girl," he said, his voice a low purr. "Now, sit back and enjoy the ride. I'm not done with you yet."

The tension between you was electric, the air thick with unspoken promises. You watched him, utterly captivated, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew that whatever happened next, it would be something you would never forget.

As he continued to drive, his hand teasing and tormenting you, you realized that you were completely at his mercy. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

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

Sebastian kept his eyes on the road, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as his fingers danced teasingly along your thigh. You were lost in the sensation, your body aching for more, every touch sending waves of desire coursing through you. The city lights blurred past as he drove, each turn and acceleration pushing you further into a haze of need.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "So desperate for me."

You moaned softly, your hands gripping the seat as you tried to steady yourself. "Seb, please… I can't take it."

"Can't take what?" he asked, his fingers slipping under the hem of your skirt, dangerously close to where you needed him most. "This?" He brushed against your soaked panties again, making you gasp.

"Yes," you whimpered. "I need you."

He chuckled darkly, his thumb circling your clit through the fabric. "Tell me what you want, love. I want to hear you say it."

You bit your lip, the words tumbling out in a desperate plea. "I want you to touch me. I want you to make me yours."

"Good girl," he said, his voice a low growl. "I like hearing you beg."

"Sebastian, please, please, fuck me" you begged, your voice a desperate plea.

"Not yet," he said, his voice a rough whisper. "First, I want to see you come undone."

His hand slipped beneath your skirt, fingers finding their way to your soaked panties. He pushed them aside, his fingers sliding through your slick folds, finding your clit with unerring precision. You gasped, your body arching into his touch, the sensation overwhelming.

"That's it," he murmured. "Let go for me. Show me how much you need me."

His fingers moved faster, circling and stroking, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Without warning, he pulled into a secluded spot, the car coming to a sudden halt. The silence was deafening, the only sound your ragged breathing and the pounding of your heart.

Sebastian turned to you, his eyes dark with desire. "Get in the back seat," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You scrambled to obey, your body trembling with anticipation. As soon as you were settled, he joined you, his hands immediately on you, pulling you into his lap. His lips crashed against yours, the kiss hard and demanding, stealing your breath away.

You melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

"You've been driving me crazy all night," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"Show me," you whispered, your lips brushing against his.

He growled, his hands moving to your panties, pulling them aside. "You don't know what you're asking for," he said, his eyes locking with yours. "But I'm going to give it to you anyway."

Before you could respond, his fingers slipped inside you, making you cry out in pleasure. He moved with a skill that left you breathless, his thumb circling your clit in perfect rhythm. You clung to him, your head falling back as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

"Sebastian," you moaned, your body arching into him. "Please, I need…"

"I know what you need," he said, his voice a rough whisper. "And I'm going to give it to you."

"You like this, don't you?" he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "You like it when I touch you like this."

"Yes," you gasped, your breath coming in ragged bursts. "I love it, Seb. Please, I need more."

His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with a mixture of desire and control. "Patience, darling. All good things come to those who wait."

His fingers moved inside you with a skill that left you breathless, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. You clung to the seat, your knuckles white, as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

"Seb, I'm going to—" you started, but he cut you off with a dark chuckle.

"Not yet," he said, withdrawing his hand suddenly, leaving you teetering on the brink of release. "Not until I say so."

You whimpered in frustration, your body aching with unfulfilled desire. "Please, Seb," you begged, your voice trembling. "I need to come. Please."

he look at you with a predatory glint in his eyes. "You want to come?" he asked, his tone challenging.

You could only moan in response, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him. Every movement sent waves of pleasure through your body, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Seb," you gasped, your head falling back as the pleasure built to a crescendo. "please..."

"Come for me," he growled, "Come for me, kleiner Hase" little bunny

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with an intensity that left you breathless. You screamed his name, your body trembling in his arms as he continued to move, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips moving to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving marks of his claim.

You could feel him hard against you, his need as evident as yours. He shifted, his hands moving to your waist, lifting you slightly before positioning himself at your entrance. With one swift motion, he thrust into you, filling you completely.

You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he moved, his pace relentless, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. He held you tight, his grip firm, as if he couldn't bear to let you go.

"Seb," you moaned, your head falling back as he pounded into you. "Oh, God, yes."

"That's right," he groaned, his lips on your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Let everyone know who you belong to."

He set a relentless pace, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. You clung to him, your body moving in perfect sync with his. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the rhythm of your passion.

His eyes darkened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands were everywhere, exploring, claiming, and you responded with equal fervor. He pulled back, his breath ragged, his eyes blazing with intensity.

"Turn around," he commanded, and you did, your body trembling with anticipation.

He positioned you so that you were on your knees, your hands braced against the back seat. You felt his hands on your hips.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. "Do you like being punished, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you gasped, arching back against his touch. "Please, Seb. I need you."

"Good girl," he purred, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You felt the head of his cock at your entrance, and you moaned, pushing back against him. He groaned, gripping your hips tightly as he thrust into you, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain, and you cried out, your fingers digging into the seat.

Sebastian set a punishing pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing, caressing, and you were lost in the storm of sensation. You could hear his breathing, ragged and heavy, feel his control slipping as he pounded into you.

Sebastian’s hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, your waist, your breasts, each touch igniting a fire that burned hotter and brighter. He tore his mouth from yours, trailing kisses down your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until you were sure you would be marked for days.

His mouth found yours again, the kiss just as intense as before. You could feel yourself hurtling toward the edge, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly with each powerful stroke. Sebastian’s grip on you tightened, his pace becoming more erratic as he neared his own release.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “I want to feel you come around me.”

His words pushed you over the edge, the coil snapping as pleasure washed over you in a blinding, overwhelming wave. You cried out his name, your body convulsing around him as you reached your peak. Sebastian followed moments later, his own release triggering a final, powerful thrust that left you both gasping for breath.

You collapsed onto the seat, utterly spent, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. The car was filled with the sound of your ragged breathing, the intensity of the moment slowly giving way to a comforting warmth.

"Don't ever doubt how much I need you," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're mine, now and always."

You nodded, snuggling into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. "I know," you whispered back. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

As you lay there in the aftermath, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that this was where you belonged. With Sebastian, in his car, driving through life together, bound by love and desire.

[just-another-fanfiction-writer]

Where we belong | Sebastian Sallow x fem!Reader | Oneshot

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: When Sebastian Sallow claims something...or rather someone as his, he'll take great care of it. Luckily he claimed you...

Warnings: smut (with a tiny bit of plot), aged up characters, possessive!Sebastian, dirty talk, teasing, mention of bj, choking, marking, "Good girl", fingering, edging, overstimulation, bondage, p in v, rough sex, creampie, minors dni

Hi there! ❤️️

This fic is part of Sallow Sunday with the theme ⛓kinky⛓ ! (credits to @rypnami)

But first of all, just a few of you might recognize this from somewhere else, as I've been the "seb finger anon" on @anto-pops amazing blog, who I decided to send a few anon asks to, inspired by her most liked kinks. It's been so much fun to see your reaction, Antoinette! Love ya! If you wanna check out the anon asks, click here -> X

Anyways, I hope you enjoy!❤️️

~Mia

It must’ve started somewhere with Sebastian asking you what you were thinking and you telling him about how deliciously good his knuckles feel like, whenever they pull out and push back in.

And it continued with the thought of how beautiful his fingers would look like with a coat of arousal on them.

Now, Sebastian’s deep brown eyes were staring at you.

You were looking back, already panting from coming so hard - the second time…right after your first one, cause he just didn't stop fingering you.

And then he opened his mouth, licking his fingers real slow and keeping eye contact with you.

"Mhh...you taste so fucking good, love", he mused quietly with a smirk, seeing how this simple gesture just made more arousal drip out of you.

He drags his long, thick fingers across the wet folds, basking in the way your legs twitch from the overstimulation.

Now with coated fingers again, he moves atop of you, letting his index and middle finger trail over your lips.

"Open, love. Taste yourself. You need to know how good this pussy is for me."

You gasped at his words, but faltered immediately, your tongue darted out to lick your own slick off his fingers.

It's salty, yet sweet. And arousing all the same.

Sebastian couldn't hold back his groan, feeling and watching your tongue swirl around his two fingers. You looked so pretty like this.

It reminded him of how, just a few moments ago, the exact same tongue swirled over the tip of his cock. Oh, it twitched eagerly between his legs at the image in his head.

He wanted you all to himself.

He wanted to show you every single way that would seek out this delicious pleasure.

He wanted you screaming his name, so the whole world would know, who you belong to.

You were his and only his.

"Good girl," he praised in a low voice, a dark and wicked grin forming on his lips at the plan forming in his head.

You were in for a wild ride.

His long and wet fingers pushed your lower lip down, making it bounce back up, when his fingers trailed further - down your chin and slowly to your neck.

"You are so fucking gorgeous, love. You have no idea," Sebastian whispered hungrily, his lips ghosting yours.

He closed the gap, his lips molding right into yours, as if they were made for each other. It didn't take long for his tongue to tangle yours into a dance of dominance, but at last all you could do was submit to him, letting him guide you to paradise.

Especially as his large hand gently grabbed your throat...but he added no pressure to your disappointment.

The Slytherin only smirked against your lips, knowing exactly how he played with you. He brushed his fingers across your neck, lips parting again and eyes travelling down.

"Hm, I do have an idea how to make you even prettier."

Before you could react, air rushed out of your lungs from the way he started sucking on a sensitive spot on your neck, skin darkening into a beautiful shade of purple.

"Sebastian," you breathed weakly, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your swollen clit, making your hips buck up.

"Keep moaning my name, while I claim you as mine, love."

You whined, when Sebastian moved less than an inch lower to place a second hickey on your neck, right next to the other one, cause it made him move away from where you needed him most.

He simply chuckled, when he felt you wiggle closer to him again and heard you whimper when his tip teasingly slid through your arousal.

"So needy," the brunette whispered, his locks tickling your skin as he went to place yet another hot kiss to your throat.

"Come on, moan my name."

Holding his weight up with one arm on the mattress, his free hand slithered up to cup your breast, kneading it, before flicking his thumb over the perked nub, teasing that sweet moan of his name out of you.

"Sebastian~"

You arched into him, shutting your eyes tightly and feeling like every inch of your skin was on fire - especially from the way his lips trailed lower, adding one hickey after the other.

It almost felt like his movements were calculated and intentionally slowly forming a symbol on your neck.

"What are you doing?" You choked, your mind getting dizzy from the attention the Slytherin gave you.

"I'm just making sure," Sebastian started off, moving back up to meet your eye, his voice low and dripping with desire, "everyone truly knows, who you belong to, love."

You barely heard his words, as his cock teased you right at your entrance and you took the opportunity to move lower, his tip slipping right into you, earning a threatening groan from the man above you.

You saw him struggle to pull out again, intoxicated by the feel of your warm and soft walls enveloping him, but he did so anyways, now looking at you with a dangerous glint in his dark brown eyes.

"Someone's eager, hm?" He whispered, the hand that was just teasing your nipple, now moving back up, to wrap around your throat again, this time adding a bit of pressure to it.

You were about to lose your fucking mind, you just wanted him to grab you tightly and fuck into you, making you topple over the edge in no time. You knew he could do it. He was that good.

But today seemed like Sebastian would pull everything from his bag of tricks to make you squirm beneath him.

He leaned down right to your ear, his hot breath tickling you.

"You've been such a good little slut for me, you'll be able to wait for me to fill you up just a moment longer, won't you? I need to finish this."

At this point, with his hand slowly adding more and more pressure, he could ask you anything - really anything - and you would agree in a heartbeat, if it meant he would finally fuck you into the mattress.

"Yes! Yes, I'll be good," you answered a bit too eagerly.

"Let's make sure, you can keep this promise."

Suddenly he held up all his weight through the hand on your neck and you were sure you'd either lose consciousness in the next second or combust - maybe both - while his other hand grabbed his wand off the nightstand.

You didn't even notice it, until you heard him whisper a spell.

"Incarcerous."

Thick velvety ropes wrapped around your wrists and yanked them above your head, the ends of it tightly knotted to the bedposts.

You yelped in surprise, ripped from whatever fantasy your mind just conjured and you looked up at your bonded wrists and back at the man above you, who has removed his hand from you and wore the smuggest grin on his lips.

His long fingers brushed over your sensitive skin, following the purple trail he started forming on your neck and collar bone. And he let his fingers tell you where his mouth would go next, so you knew exactly what he was doing.

Sebastian, possessive as always, was forming a big "S" out of hickeys on your neck and chest.

"You're insufferable," you joked and managed to roll your eyes at him with a smile, but when he only replied...

"And you're all that I desire."

...you almost lost it, moaning loudly with his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your chest.

"You look so beautiful like this," Sebastian whispered hungrily against your skin, his full-blown pupils looking up at you through his long lashes.

Your hands gripped the velvet ropes tightly, needing to touch him so badly right now. Needing to feel his soft hair between your fingers. Needing to scratch his back until the red streaks would threaten to start bleeding.

Or he threatened you with his hand on your throat again, to not scratch him like that.

Sebastian complained at least a week for not being able to sleep on his back from your marks, though you know he prefers to sleep on his stomach anyways.

You were pulled right out of your thoughts, when his teeth sunk into your skin once more and you gasped.

"Still with me?"

Sebastian chuckled darkly, the glint in his eyes more dangerous than you've ever seen before. He was at his height of possessiveness.

He needed you here in this moment every second of the way.

This was...special after all.

"Yes...yes fuck. I just," you started breathlessly, his tongue gently licking over the seventh or eighth hickey. You lost count.

"Hm?" He simply hummed with a smirk.

"I want to touch you, please. I need to feel more of you. Please, Sebastian."

Oh, you begged so beautifully. It must've been his favorite sound.

Hm, no, there was one that exceeded this, yes, and soon he would hear it again.

His heart clenched in his chest at the thought and his dick twitched once more, precum dripping onto your thigh, which you kept on wiggling, but only slightly, so he let it pass.

The groan rumbled deep in his chest and his face told you how much he was struggling to keep your hands from him. To keep your inviting heat from him.

You let a small victorious grin slip on your lips, but quickly hid it again, hoping he didn't see it.

But of course, the Slytherin caught it.

"You little minx. You think you can break me so easily? You think I fall for your tricks?"

Oh, his hand slithered back up to your throat and this time you probably looked like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and shakily breathing, when his long fingers wrapped around and started to squeeze slowly.

And when his knee moved upwards to meet your slick folds, you cried out.

"Sebastian!"

"Mh...bad girls like you deserve to be punished, don't you think?"

Before you could reply anything, his knee started moving and you stared up at the man above you, who simply smiled down with pure smugness.

With your head falling deeper into the pillow below, his knee worked you up, making you climb higher and higher to this place of pure ecstasy.

It was pure torture.

How good his hand felt wrapped around like a tight necklace and his knee rubbing your clit, your hole clenching around nothing. And your hands still aimlessly wiggling in their restrictions, needing something more to hold onto, instead of the fabric.

"Are you close, love?"

Sebastian's voice was low and his breath against your ear tickled you enough to send goosebumps down your whole body.

"Y-yes," you moaned, gasping for air, starting to see stars from all the sensations. "'m s...close..."

"Are you gonna cum?"

The knot deep in your abdomen started tightening so hard, it almost hurt.

"Yessss~"

"Good," Sebastian simply whispered.

You were right on the precipice of coming completely undone.

You tasted it right on the tip of your tongue.

You shut your eyes tightly and...just...a little bit...more...and...

...he removed his knee.

You mewled, feeling the promise of an orgasm slip right through your fingers, leaving you breathless and so fucking desperate.

He cooed you, caressing your cheek gently, as if he wasn't the one causing this.

"Hush, hush, love. As I said...bad girls like you deserve to be punished. So...will you be a good girl and follow my orders?"

In this very moment you knew you hated him. You hated him more than anything else.

But God, if you'd die this exact moment, you'd die a lucky woman.

"Yes."

"Good girl," Sebastian praised you, brushing the hair sticking to your forehead back and giving you a sweet and gentle kiss, before continuing his work on your chest.

And you kept your promise, staying as still as possible for him to create his little masterpiece right on your neckline, which was hard to do with his fingers travelling all over your body and his mouth sucking your skin just right.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you whined under him, barely able to keep your promise when he sucked another hickey on you.

"Fuck, every little sound you make goes straight down to my cock. You make me so fucking hard."

Oh, and he made you feel just how hard it made him, rubbing his cock so perfectly against your clit, only making you whine more desperately for him.

"Lucky for you, I am finally done with my work here," he grinned, trailing the purple skin with his finger once more, as if to seal it with this gesture.

You need a moment to register what his words meant, but when it hit you, it hit you like a train.

"You've been such a good girl and good girls get what they want. So, tell me...what do you want, my dear?"

"Oh please, I need you."

Yes, you sounded so desperate, and it was music to Sebastian's ears.

"I need to touch you a-and I need you to fuck me. Just please...I need you!"

"Fuck," the brunette growled above you, his face contorting and you looked down, seeing a hand wrapped around his dick, which was pulsating and dangerously red-tipped, pushing down on it to hold himself back.

"When you sound like this, I'm not going to last even before getting inside you, love."

You smiled brightly at him, almost beaming, knowing just how much on an effect you were having on him as well. He was throbbing with anticipation and desire and so were you, seeing him grab his wand once more and finally releasing you from your confines.

Your arms immediately wrapped around Sebastian's broad shoulders, pulling him real close, kissing him feverishly. He had barely time to place his hands next to you, so he wouldn't crash right into you.

But you didn't care.

You just kissed him with so much passion, your fingers finally able to tangle in his brown curls and the others digging into his freckled skin.

He simply moaned into your kiss, tongue delving into you, while his tip once again brushed against your clit.

That tore you away from his lips for a moment and Sebastian just smiled, propped up on his elbows, fingers brushing soothingly through your hair.

"Are you ready?"

The love and tenderness in his words, his smile and his oh so beautiful eyes...you just knew that not only you belonged to him, but his heart and soul - his entire being - it belonged to you and only you.

He was entirely yours and no one could ever change that.

"Yes," you smiled back, pulling him in for another quick kiss before he started to push inside you.

Even with all this preparation and the amount of arousal pooling between both of your legs, the sensation of him pushing into you still left you absolutely breathless.

Your moans when he bottomed out, mixed together into a wonderful harmony of passion.

Sebastian started to move slow, your eyes fixated on one another as both of you let yourselves fall into the pleasure you gave each other. His hips increased their speed, the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin starting to fill the room.

At some point the bed started creaking, earning a small chuckle from both of you in between moans and gasps.

Sebastian angled himself up above you, your hands flat on his pecs, feeling the rapid heartbeat inside his chest. His hips kept on snapping in an increasing speed against you, the tip hitting even deeper inside you, brushing against that spot, which made you mewl once more.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," the brunette muttered in between thrust, seemingly lost in the moment, his eyes shut tightly and his control slipping.

You knew he was close, and he tried his best to get that one last orgasm out of you, before he would let himself come undone.

"Sebastian," you managed to say, pulling his attention back to you.

His big brown eyes were wide and dark, desperate for you.

"I love you."

And there was this warm and loving expression again. Now his eyes almost looked amber in the dim light of your room.

With a hand on his neck, you pulled him back down to you, holding him close, while his hips didn't stop thrusting, now hitting even deeper and pounding against your sweet spot every time.

Your whole body trembled from this new position and there it was in reach again...your impeding climax.

Big arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you, steading you, keeping you completely safe.

"I love you, too."

His whispered words and a very powerful and precise thrust were all that it took for you to topple over the edge with a scream of pure ecstasy. Your walls convulsed around Sebastian, tightening in an almost death grip and all you could manage to say was, "Inside. Cum inside."

And so, he did after just two thrusts, cumming in spurts of hot white strings that coated your insides, filling you up completely.

Your trembling limbs stayed like this for a moment, Sebastian's hips only moving subtly, drawing out your orgasm as long as possible, before he got too sensitive and stopped moving all together, knowing how much you needed him to stay inside after such a strong orgasm.

To be honest...even if the slightest movement right now hurt him, Sebastian didn't want to break this bond you two had in this exact moment.

This was all he ever wished for.

All he ever needed.

Yes, if he only had you in his arms just like this for the rest of his life, he would die a lucky man.

After some time, your breathing came back to normal, your eyes weren't as hazy anymore and reality crept its way back into your minds.

Still holding him close and staying connected, you two turned around, so Sebastian was on his back and your body on top of his.

It fit right into his, as if you two were made for each other.

Oh, you were sure of it.

You two belong to each other...forever.

With this thought in mind, a tired smile on your lips and his fingers drawing soft circles on the small of your back, you were lulled into a deep slumber, feeling absolutely safe and sound.

The next morning, after a desperately needed shower...only together of course, you stood in front of the mirror, getting dressed, while Sebastian dried his hair with a towel, another one hanging around his hips, as he walked over to you.

You pouted slightly, looking at yourself in the mirror, your fingertips trailing over the purple S on your neckline, the jewelry on one of your finger shimmering in the morning sun.

"Wasn't the ring enough?"

"Of course not, love," Sebastian chuckled, wrapping his arms around your middle, placing his head in the crook of your neck, smiling as he inspected his work in the mirror.

"When I said, I wanted you to wear my name, I meant it metaphorically and literally."

[percervall]

what a memorable N.Y.E

Pairing: George Russell x fem!reader x Fernando Alonso Words: 2017 Warnings: oral (f & m receiving), dirty talk, degradation kink, p in v, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, slight cuckolding (if you squint), multiple orgasms, squirting, no beta -we die like my hope in ferrari A/N: @monzabee, the fic that started in your DMs, hope it lives up to your expectations!

In which you start the new year with a bang

---

You have no idea how you ended up back in your hotel room, nor do you know when Fernando ended up there too. It’s not his room, you don’t think but the champagne has made it difficult to keep things straight. Then again, by this point it has become a tradition for the three of you to spend New Year’s together so you’re not surprised to find yourself very much naked, spread out in the middle of the bed on top of the waterproof blanket he had brought with your boyfriend buried between your thighs, feasting on your cunt like a man starved. George has made you cum twice already –always so generous, your boyfriend– and he is rapidly hurtling you into a third until Fernando pulls George’s face away from you, leaving you whining and whimpering.

“Nando,” you whine, “I thought you wanted to see me ruined?” The Spaniard grins at you, and it’s filthy and filled with a promise that has your stomach in knots.

“This is why I said to George, your pretty girlfriend is the sluttiest girl in this club. Such a slut for cock, aren’t you hermosa?”

“Why don’t you come here so I can show you?” you tease, sounding a lot braver than you feel. His words leave you hot all over and you can’t help but clench your thighs together, much to Fernando’s amusement. George watches this back and forth intently, his cock already straining against his trousers. 

“You’re not desperate enough for my cock, but let’s see what that mouth can do,” Fernando says before instructing George to strip and get on the bed. 

“Georgie here has been so good to you, why don’t you show him just how grateful you are, hermosa?”

You eagerly crawl between your boyfriend’s thighs, wiggling your ass a little more than strictly necessary, showing off the plug George had gifted you in preparation for today, as you get comfortable. Fernando hums appreciatively as the emerald embedded in the gold base catches the light. Leaning forward, you arch your back while taking George’s dick in your hand, stroking him before darting your tongue out to lap at a bead of precum. George hisses at the feeling of your tongue licking the slit. You wrap your lips around his tip and keep stroking him. George grips the sheets to stop himself from bucking up into you.

You moan around his cock as Fernando slaps your ass. 

“I said, show some appreciation, not tease him. Suck his cock like the good little slut you are,” he whispers in your ear, leaning over you. His words have you clenching around nothing and you’re quick to oblige. You know you better listen to the Spaniard and for once just do as you’re told; something tells you that Fernando wouldn’t hesitate to punish you if you don’t.

You slowly take more of George's cock in your mouth, flattening your tongue against the underside as you do. Fernando hums approvingly, moving to press kisses against your neck and shoulder, and you would do anything to hear him make that noise again.

George moans at the feeling of your wet mouth enveloping more and more of his cock. "Knew you could do as you're told," Fernando murmurs, his still clothed erection pressed up against the plug. It's impossible not to grind against him as you bob your head, taking George a little deeper each time. "Ah, ah ah," Fernando tuts, fingers digging into your hips to keep you still, "make him cum first, and then I might give you what you want." And with that, he moves away, biting the curve of your ass to serve as a reminder of what’s to come. 

Trying to time your breathing, you take George as deep as you can, gagging a little as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. "Fuck," he hisses, one hand now buried in your hair. The sharp sting of him pulling on it has you moaning around him once more. 

"That's it, such a good girl for us, letting George use your mouth like this." George bucks his hips, head thrown back. "So good... Am close, princess," he pants, fucking your mouth in earnest now. You keep still, allowing your boyfriend to chase his release. It doesn't take long before he curses once, hand on the back of your head to keep you in place, as he spills down your throat. He collapses back onto the hotel bed, looking pleased as punch. You pull off him, careful not to spill any of his cum and make a spectacle of it, showing Fernando how you swallow all of it. The Spaniard grabs your chin, tilting your face up so he can kiss you. He licks the seam of your lips, and you’re more than willing to open up. Fernando moans into your mouth as he tastes your boyfriend’s cum on your tongue. You can’t help but roll your hips, desperately seeking something to alleviate the ache between your thighs. 

“Oh you want it so badly, don’t you, hermosa? Need to have that pretty cunt of yours filled, hmm?” Fernando coos when he breaks the kiss.

“Please,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed at the prospect of finally getting fucked. Fernando chuckles, pinching your nipple, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

“Think you’ve earned this cock?”

“Uh-hu,” you sigh. Fernando chuckles once more, giving you a slight push to make you lie down.

“Keep her on the edge, George. She’s not allowed to cum until she’s full of cock.” 

Despite this not being the first time you have found yourself in this situation, Fernando’s filthy mouth always leaves you blushing. You love it, you more than love it, but the degradation is not something you and George really delve into on a regular basis.

“You’re doing so good, princess, such a good girl,” George murmurs as he presses his lips against yours. He rolls you half onto his chest, your leg hiked up and across his waist and his finger dipping in and out of you. Whining, you roll your hips against his hand, needing more than just the tip of his finger. 

“Ssh, I got you baby,” George hums, sliding his middle and ring finger into you. The stretch has you sighing contently as he lazily fucks you with them. You’re not even aware of Fernando kneeling down onto the bed, now fully naked, dropping a bottle of lube and a few foil packets onto the sheets. 

“Are you ready, hermosa?” 

“Please, I need it, need you to fuck me..” 

“Such a cock-hungry whore, aren’t you? Need to start the new year off with a bang, no?” Breathlessly, you nod and let the two drivers manoeuvre your body so you’re fully straddling your boyfriend. You drag your pussy over George’s cock, fully hard again. He groans, stilling your movements so he can slide into you. Both of you can’t help but moan when he bottoms out. You can hear the rustling of packaging being torn open and him rolling the condom down his hard length. His large hands run down your back, pushing you flush against George. Anticipation swirls low in your belly as Fernando gently pulls on the plug. You slide your knees even further out, arching your lower back and pushing your ass up. At this point you will do whatever it takes, as long as it means Fernando will finally give in. George cradles your face in his hand as he leans down slightly to kiss you. You can’t help but gasp into his mouth as Fernando dribbles lube down your ass, spreading your cheeks. 

“Yes,” you whimper, breaking the kiss when the Spaniard pushes the tip against your entrance, “Yes, please.. Please Nando..” He chuckles at your begging, pressing a kiss against the top of your spine as he slowly eases himself into your tight hole. Your brain short circuits at the feeling of being stretched and filled like this, face buried in George’s neck.

“Dime niña bonita,” Fernando murmurs against your skin.

“S-so good. Fer-... Fuck, so full..” you pant. George pulls you closer still, his hands pushing on your shoulder blades.

“Let us make you feel good, princess,” he whispers, kissing along your collar bones. You make a noise that could mean anything really, and just let both men use your body. It’s impossible to keep track of whose cock is filling you, the sensation too overwhelming to form a single coherent thought. Through the haze of lust, you can hear both men pant and curse as they chase their release. You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten, clenching down on George’s cock. 

“So tight, so good for me princess. Fuck, I’m gonna- gonna cum…” 

“Yes..” you sigh, “please baby, fill me.” George tilts your chin down for a searing kiss, groaning into your mouth as he spills deep inside of you. Fernando pulls you up by your arms, your back now pressed against his front. You lock eyes with George and the love you see written all over his face while another man fucks what’s his, forms a lump in your throat.

“So pretty like this, princess,” George says as one of Fernando’s hands cups your breast while the other encircles your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just keeps it there as his hips snap against your ass. George’s softening cock slips out of you and you can feel his cum slowly dripping out. 

“Oh you like being put on display like this, don’t you? Such a slut for it, aren’t you hermosa?” The only response you can give him is a whine as the hand that was playing with your nipple slides down your stomach to rub two fingers against your clit. 

“Please.. Fernando, I need- Need to- please please please please can I cum?” you sob, thighs trembling.

“Hold it,” he growls into your ear, applying the slightest bit more pressure against your clit. It has you bucking in his hold, earning you a dark chuckle. You can feel the pressure building low in your stomach, your orgasm so close that you can taste it. Laying your hand on top of the one he has around your throat, you squeeze it, telling him just what you need, as he tightens his hand. 

“You gonna cum for us, like the good little cockwhore you are?” 

“Yes,” you hiss, eyes squeezed shut as the tidal wave finally crashes over you. He keeps rubbing your clit as he whispers the filthiest things in your ear. Your body goes rigid, arching against Fernando and a scream dies on your lips. You can feel this pressure building, the feeling different than you’re used to and before you really know what’s happening, your orgasm drips all over Fernando’s fingers and George’s groin who’s still lying underneath you. The Spaniard bites down on the skin between neck and shoulder, hips stuttering before he spills into the condom. He slowly pulls out, leaving you whimpering as your legs stop functioning. George carefully helps you to lie down on the bed, brushing your hair back from where it’s now sticking to your forehead. It vaguely registers that Fernando gets off the bed to dispose of the condom. A bottle is pressed against your lips and you greedily gulp down the cold water, not even caring that half of it runs down your chin. The two drivers work in tandem to clean you up with a flannel and move you onto the dry sheets as they pull the blanket off the bed. 

“Did so good, baby,” George murmurs as he pulls you against his chest. Fernando climbs in behind you, draping the sheet over all three of your bodies. You sigh contently, snuggling into your boyfriend. “Sleep, hermosa, we’ll shower in a bit,” the older driver says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he curls around you. What a way to ring in the new year, you think, already looking forward to reliving this night for the rest of the year.

Welp, there you have it. The threesome fic no one asked for (what is it with me and writing threesomes to kick off the new year??? I am having déjà vu)

This would not have happened without @monzabee & @vetteltea, thanks for encouraging this brain rot!

Please let me know what you think, your likes, comments and tags mean the world to me 💜