#the way I audibly squeaked

[cinnasweetss]

SHE. | p.sh

check your window, he's at your window...

wc: 1k

content: this is strictly for the bitches that are sick & afraid of their own mind like ME, little to no dialogue, stalking, dub con/non con, hitting, choking, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, etc etc...

a/n: I recommend listening to "she" by tyler the creator while you read. this work was written with that song in mind, hence the name. ideas, constructive criticism, and compliments are always welcome. thanks for reading <3

It rained all day. streets slippery with rainwater and mud, the earth outside your window was the same. big, chunky, steel toed boots sinking in the ground beneath them. he should've been more careful, removed his boots before he came in. maybe then he would've spared you the horror of finding muddy footprints inside of your home. 

he was sure that would be the last time he saw you. that you'd do the most obvious thing and call the police, tell them about the footprints, the squeaking floorboards in the middle of the night, the letters. or that time you woke up unexpectedly, peeked out the window to find him there. 

had he not blinked, you probably wouldn't have known. you wouldn't have screamed either, forcing him to flee. 

had he been in his right mind, he would've stopped hanging outside your window then. had you been in your right mind, you would've made sure your blinds were shut before you slept. you would've called the police. 

instead, you made him greedy. wanting to believe you might actually feel the same way, the notes became more frequent, longer, more passionate. he'd watch you read them too, swearing he could see a smile on your face each time you read one. swearing he might actually have a chance with you. 

he knew it when you made it easier for him to get in. he knows you purposefully left your back door cracked. in fact, he watched you. watched you contemplate between locking it, leaving it unlocked, or keeping it just a tad bit open. 

endless nights of following you home, memorizing your routines and schedules, watching you sleep, watching you unknowingly undress in front of your window, even those nights when you touch yourself under your covers, writhing and squirming until you finish. 

all those nights have finally paid off. he thinks that maybe, it was fate that he left those footprints on the floor outside your bedroom. after all, you’ve finally accepted him.

so why are you screaming? 

he couldn't figure out why you weren't happy to finally see him. why you were so surprised when he told you that you two would be together soon. he didn't understand why you fought him off either. 

he watched you frantically reach for your cellphone on your dresser, and had you not been shaking so much you probably could've made the call while you had him stunned. but your mistake gave him enough time to recover. he made sure to break it before he came back for you. large hands covered by black gloves dragging you back to your mattress, forcing you on your back. 

he'll never forget the way you looked at him. eyes wide as if you've seen a ghost, body trembling yet frozen in your fear, frantically trying to make your eyes adjust so you can see the figure above you.

frozen when he reached into his pants, eager to finally be inside you after weeks of watching and waiting, after dealing with your endless teasing. you'd mumbled a plead for him to wait that fell on deaf ears, sunghoon too occupied with getting his cock free and forcing your legs open. 

"wait! w-wait! don't!"  he'd heard that one, but it was weak, barely audible even. had you really wanted him to wait or even stop, you would've screamed like you did just minutes before. you would've made it harder for him to force your hands away. 

you wouldn't have put on this skimpy little night gown either. you made it too easy for him for him to shove a hand between your legs and push the damp fabric to the side. didn't even try to hide your ecstasy when he finally got himself inside you. 

it was all he dreamed of and more. so much better than sneaking in under the guise of the night and getting off by himself after pulling your covers back. never once did he think he'd actually be on top of you, buried deep inside of your cunt instead of using your hand while you're sleeping.

much different to see you squirming, mouth hung open as you release sounds of pleasure despite your feeble attempts at trying to resist. your legs kick in the air, arms pressed to your chest as sunghoon keeps up with his ruthless thrusting. he's used to having you so easily pliant, and at his disposal. 

didn't expect you to be so coy, instinctively moving to cover your chest as if he hasn't seen everything already. he surely didn't expect you to reject his kiss just moments after, going as far as biting him.

"fuck!"

it makes him draw back, the metallic taste in his mouth making him realize you actually drew blood. it infuriates him, and his hand cocks back and comes across your face before you have time to dodge. he wraps a hand around your throat to serve as a warning, thumb and forefinger squeezing around your artery. 

it's just enough to force you into submission for the time being. enough for sunghoon to lean back in and kiss you properly this time. sloppy open mouthed kisses against your lips, leading down to your chest. he makes sure to leave marks along the way. whether its around your neck, across your chest, at your hips, your wrists— anywhere to make sure you don't forget this eventful night. 

his thrusts are rough enough to do the same, sure to leave you sore in the morning, maybe even the days following.

he only lets go of your neck when tears form at your eyes and you begin to claw at his wrists. a loud gasp fills the air, followed by a choked and frantic "stop, stop!"

had you not began to convulse beneath him and cry out sounds of pleasure in the immediate seconds following, he just might have. 

he has to swallow back a laugh when he glances between your legs to where the two of you meet. skin of your thighs and the fabric of his jeans saturated in your orgasm. all the more reason for him to believe you want this just as much as him.

he's just a few more thrusts behind you, stifling back his own groans as his hips begin to stutter, cumming inside of you without warning shortly after.

this is something he’ll truly never forget. he’ll make sure you don’t either.

just as long as you continue to keep your door open.

[samuelsdean]

Sweater Weather

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: "want to warm up?" he gestured to the hem of his sweater with a hint of concern in his eyes.

genre: fluff

word count: 1k

author's notes: i'm back with another spencer fic! i miss my baby and his fluffy sweaters so much i had to write about it.

THE BAU HUMMED WITH THE GENTLE WHOOSHING OF THE HARSH AIR CONDITIONER, THE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS CASTING A BRIGHT PALLOR OVER EVERYTHING. You huddled deeper into your thin knitted sweater, the thin material a weak attempt at shielding yourself against the bone-deep chill. You blame it on the current heat wave the Quantico area is facing these days . You would've opted for thicker clothing to adequately face the onslaught of the office's air conditioner, if not for the debilitating heat you'd suffer from once you've stepped foot outside of the building.

You sighed, climate change sucks ass.

Today was a slow day—or at least compared to your usual at the BAU—there was no new case. Thankfully. Maybe serial killers do know how to take breaks from time to time; unfortunately for federal agents, breaks were uncommon. If you weren't out chasing whatever criminal who spawned at the most random backwoods in the country, you were stuck at your desk poring through case files, the only sound competing with the monotonous drone of the ventilation system.

A sliver of envy pricked at you as you stole a glance at Spencer, perched on his chair like a Greek statue sculpted from focus. He seemed impervious to the cold in a yellow button-down and his thick-knitted maroon sweater. He was a beacon of warmth and comfort in his thick sweater as if to mock your lack of layers fending the chilliness in the BAU that could practically rival the iciness of the Arctic. Suddenly, a traitorous draft snaked down your spine, sending shivers cascading across your skin.

You rubbed your hands together, a futile attempt to generate some friction heat. A sigh threatened to escape your lips, but you bit it back, hoping the day wouldn't drag on much longer. You couldn't wait to get back home and bury yourself in your bed before you freeze to death at your desk or worse, get another call from Hotch saying you have a case sprouting out of nowhere.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Spencer shift. He flicked a glance your way, his gaze lingering on your clenched fists a beat too long. A question lurked in the quirked brow he offered.

"Cold?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the rustling papers.

You offered a weak smile and sniffed, a single nod the only response you could muster.

Hesitation flickered across his face, then, in a move so swift it stole your breath, he patted the extra chair beside his. "Come here," he said softly.

Confusion battled the tinge of warmth that had started in your chest as you shuffled closer to your coworker. As you settled beside him, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Want to warm up?" He gestured to the hem of his sweater with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Understanding bloomed on your face, accompanied by a blush that crept up your neck.

"Oh," you mumbled. "I... I-um, are you sure, Spence? I mean, it's pretty cold here."

This was unorthodox , to say the least . But the thought of thawing your frozen fingers was undeniably appealing.

"I wouldn't want to impose on you..." You continued but were cut off.

Without missing a beat, Spencer lifted the edge of his sweater, creating a welcoming pocket before you could finish what you were sputtering about.

You bit your lip, then slowly reached out, your fingers disappearing into the soft wool. The sensation was like burrowing into a cloud, sun-warmed and comforting. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you wiggled your fingers, relishing the sudden relief. Instantly, you remembered you were currently clinging to Spencer like a baby koala and squeaked in embarrassment.

A soft chuckle rumbled in Spencer's chest, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He continued to work, stealing occasional glances at your hands nestled beneath his sweater. A warmth bloomed in your chest that had nothing to do with temperature. It was as if time stopped between you and the man as you created your little bubble encompassing just you and Spencer; forgetting that it wasn't just the two of you in the room, but also the rest of your team.

Out of nowhere, Spencer began to murmur something that you could barely hear despite the proximity between you two, so you scuffled closer and leaned toward him. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I hope you're comfortable," Spencer mumbled, his voice barely a whisper above the rustling papers . A hint of pink dusted his cheeks, a telltale sign of his usual shyness.

You flashed him a warm smile. " Absolutely, Spence. Thanks for offering."

He dipped his head in a quick nod, then, after a moment's hesitation, surprised you with a question. "Did you know women tend to feel colder than men?

Intrigued, you hummed in response, enjoying the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he spoke.

There was a childlike eagerness in Spencer's voice whenever he delved into his knowledge. You knew it stemmed from a time in his life when conversation was scarce—too busy taking care of his mom and raising himself. You always encouraged him, finding his enthusiasm endearing. His voice, with its gentle cadence and thoughtful delivery, held a certain charm, or maybe it was just a crush, one you'd harbored since day one, but refused to admit it, for fear of being rejected.

"It's all about body composition and size," he explained, facts tumbling out in a rapid stream . "Women generally have less muscle mass, which generates heat. Plus, they have a higher percentage of body fat compared to men, about 6 to 11%. And being smaller means women have a larger surface area to volume ratio, leading to faster heat loss."

You feigned contemplation, nodding thoughtfully. A playful smile lit up your face, making a blush creep up Spencer's neck. "Well, then I guess I'm lucky to have you and your sweater, wouldn't you say?"

He stammered, his hand instinctively reaching to scratch his neck. A shy bob of his head was his only reply.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, the air thick with unspoken feelings. Lost in the warmth of shared space, the workday flew by unnoticed. As you gathered your things, your eyes met Spencer's. A shy smile played on his lips, and in that silent exchange, a secret bloomed amidst the usual hustle and bustle of the BAU.

The team, privy to your oblivious dance, exchanged knowing glances and muffled snickers. "Ah, young love," Rossi chuckled under his breath.

[imrafayels]

• 18 + caleb x you • you disrobe in front of caleb and your intent turns into a plot twist

Caleb swallows. Audibly.

He thinks he might actually be dreaming, because how can it be possible that you’re right there, undressing before him. He watches entranced as you pull your bathrobe down your shoulders, almost letting a whimper escape when the robe reveals skin past your bosom and down your midriff.

He desperately wants to touch you, but he’s frozen on the spot. The robe finally falls down to your feet, and you see how his entire face has become flushed red. His hands are clenched in a fist, sweat droplets running down his neck.

A hard bulge has formed under his pants.

It aches, and Caleb doesn’t know whether to reach down to relieve himself at the sight of you naked, or to go over and kiss you until you both run out of breath.

But before he can even decide, you walk over and take his hand. You gently place it on your breast, and guide his fingers to your cold-erect nipple. Then you close in to press your lower body against him, and grind to create friction for his cock.

Caleb moans, almost pained, and squeezes your tit in response to your movement. You take his other hand and place it on your ass, and, acknowledging this as a green light, Caleb begins to rub his hard-on in earnest against your front.

You feel yourself getting wet at the sounds escaping his lips— the moans, the desperate sighs, and the needy groans as he keeps grinding against you, and the hand that has already made itself acquainted with every sensitive part of your breast.

“Caleb, down here it’s warmer… and slippier..”

Caleb looks up at you, after having his eyes glued all this time to your tits, belly-button, and especially at the way his cock touches you right above where your pussy resides. His purple eyes are dazed in lust and wonder, heavy-lidded over the pleasure when they open wide at your words. He looks down again, at your exposed pelvis and, almost as if bewitched, he kneels down.

His fingers begin to spread your folds, lazily picking the wetness on their tips before guiding it to his tongue. You gasp, the sudden plot twist taking you by surprise. Caleb closes his eyes in delight, before reaching again to touch you— rubbing your pussy and leaning in to smell you on the skin right above your clit. You sob, nervous but also in anticipation.

“Pip-squeak… Can I eat you out? Please?” he asks, voice hoarse yet needy, almost like a whine.

You nod, stroking your hand over his hair-strands. Caleb sighs and sticks out his tongue to take a tentative lick at your swollen clit. His hand has already pulled his pants down, and has begun to fap his shaft in slow, yet deliberate motions. And then, he opens his mouth and takes your clit between his lips. He begins to suck, fast and with force, and you almost fall over. His free hand roams around your folds, smearing your wetness all over and making its way into your entrance. He twirls his finger around the hole, teasing and playful before inserting one digit inside. He begins to fuck your pussy gently, before pressing in another finger and increasing the speed.

You’re a mess of moans and cries as you feel doubly stimulated from inside and outside. His tongue laps at the sensitive nub of nerves, and his three fingers ram your weak spot.

All while his other hand keeps working up and down his cock, precum smearing the carpet underneath him. His groans send shivers up your spine, and you can practically feel the tremors all over your body. He keeps jerking off, squeezing the head of his dick before sliding down to his balls and then moving up again while applying pressure for better friction.

You both cum at the same time.

It takes both of you a few minutes to recover. Your upper body has fallen onto Caleb, as he still sits on his knees on the floor. You feel his lips kiss your stomach, and then the hollow of your chest before sucking on your nipple. You cry, holding his head closer and griping his hair in between your fingers.

Caleb sighs, kissing your tits all over. He slides his hands at your sides, caressing your ribs and hips.

“Please, let me fuck you,” he says, eyes pleading— almost in the brink of crying. “I might actually die if you say no.”

•••

To be continued?

[rafedarling]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: drew has always been the one to initiate intimacy, usually under the soft glow of night. but this morning, you decide it’s your turn to show him just how much you adore him.

warning(s): english is not my native language. smut, minor dni, p in v, fingering, masterbate.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist.

You lay there, propped up on one elbow, watching Drew’s chest rise and fall in the gentle rhythm of sleep. His face was peaceful, his lips slightly parted, his dark hair tousled against the pillow. He looked so beautiful. And yet, your mind was elsewhere… somewhere far less innocent.

You’d been thinking about this for weeks. Drew was always the one who initiated things at night, his hands roaming, his voice low and teasing as he worked you into a frenzy.

But today?

Today was your turn. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to surprise him, to take control, to show him just how much you’d been craving this.

Carefully, you slid your hand under the sheet, your fingers brushing against his bare thigh. Drew always slept naked, something you’d come to adore. The warmth of his skin against yours made your breath hitch. You bit your lip, your heart pounding as you let your hand drift higher, your fingertips grazing the base of his cock. It was soft for now, but you knew how quickly that would change.

God, he felt so fucking good.

You couldn’t help but smile as you wrapped your fingers around him, giving him a slow, teasing stroke. He stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips, but he didn’t wake.

Not yet.

You squeezed gently, feeling him begin to harden in your hand. The sensation made your own body ache with need, but you forced yourself to focus. This was about him. About making him feel just as good as he always made you feel.

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear.

“Drew,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Wake up for me, baby.”

He groaned softly, his body shifting as he began to rouse. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he just stared at you, confusion clouding his sleepy gaze.

And then he felt your hand, still wrapped around him, still stroking him so slowly, so deliberately.

“Y/N…”

His voice was rough with sleep, his eyes darkening as he looked at you.

“What are you doing?”

You grinned, your hand never stopping.

“Hmm, I don’t know, Drew,” you said, your tone teasing.

“I just thought I’d give you a little morning surprise.”

His breath hitched, his hips twitching as your hand moved faster. You could see the way his body tensed, the way his cock hardened completely in your grasp. It was intoxicating, the way he reacted to you, the way he couldn’t hide just how much he loved this.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, you leaned down, your lips brushing against the tip of his cock.

He let out a strangled moan, his hips bucking as you wrapped your mouth around him. The taste of him, the warmth, the way he throbbed against your tongue, it was everything.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tangling in your hair.

“Y/N… God, you feel so good.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making him swear under his breath. Your tongue swirled around the tip, your lips sucking gently as you worked him deeper into your mouth. His hips moved instinctively, but you kept him still with one hand on his thigh, your other hand still stroking the base of his cock.

“You like it, baby?”

You asked, pulling back just enough to speak, your lips brushing against him as you did.

Drew nodded, his eyes half-lidded, his chest heaving.

“I love you,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“I love it when your mouth’s wrapped around me. It’s… fuck, it’s perfect.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth again. He let out a strangled squeak, his body jerking at the sudden sensitivity. You could feel how close he was already, the way his muscles tensed, the way his cock twitched against your tongue. But you didn’t want him to cum yet. Not yet.

You pulled back again, your hand replacing your mouth as you stroked him slowly, teasingly. Drew groaned, his head falling back against the pillow.

“Y/N… please. Don’t stop.”

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” you said, your voice low and teasing.

“I just want to play with you for a little while. Is that okay?”

He nodded, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

“Yeah. Yeah. Just… don’t stop.”

You grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to his thigh.

“Good boy.”

And then you took him into your mouth again, your hand moving in time with your lips, your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock. Drew’s moans filled the room, his hands clutching at the sheets as you worked him closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel it, the way his body tensed, the way his cock throbbed in your mouth. But you didn’t stop. Not even when he came, his cum hitting the back of your throat.

You swallowed, your lips still wrapped tightly around him as you kept sucking, kept stroking. Drew’s body jerked, his hips bucking as he tried to pull away, but you held him still, your hand tightening on his thigh.

“Y/N… please. I can’t… I can’t take it,” he begged, his voice breaking.

You grinned, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

“You sure about that, baby?” you asked, your tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock.

“Because I think you can take a little more.”

Drew cried out, his hands tangling in your hair as you took him into your mouth again.

You pulled back slowly, your lips releasing him with a soft, wet sound that made Drew shudder. His chest was heaving, and his eyes were glazed with pleasure, but there was a hunger in them too a hunger that mirrored your own. You didn’t want to stop here. You wanted more.

“Drew, I need you.”

His gaze snapped to yours, and for a moment, it felt like the air in the room shifted, charged with something electric.

You didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, you reached down, your fingers slipping under the waistband of your panties. You hooked your thumbs into the fabric, pulling them down slowly, deliberately, letting him watch every inch of skin you revealed. Drew’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you.

You knelt on the bed, your knees sinking into the mattress as you positioned yourself in front of him. Your hand trailed down your body, brushing over your stomach before dipping between your thighs. Your fingers found your clit, and you let out a soft moan as you began to rub slow, teasing circles. You could feel Drew’s eyes on you, his gaze burning into your skin as he watched you touch yourself.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

You didn’t respond, too focused on the pleasure building in your body. You slipped a finger inside yourself, your wetness coating your hand as you moved in and out, your movements slow and deliberate. You could feel yourself getting hotter, your pussy clenching around your fingers as you worked yourself closer to the edge. When you pulled your hand away, it was slick with your arousal, and you couldn’t help but smile as you saw the way Drew’s eyes followed the movement.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice low and husky.

“So fucking wet for me.”

“Only for you, daddy,�� you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

He moved then, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you toward him. His breath was hot against your skin as he leaned in, his tongue tracing a slow, teasing path up your thigh. You gasped, your hands gripping the sheets as his mouth found your clit, his tongue lapping at you with a rhythm that made your head spin. He was relentless, his hands holding you in place as he devoured you, his tongue flicking and circling until you were moaning, your hips bucking against his face.

“Drew… oh god, Drew,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He didn’t stop, his tongue pushing inside you as he worked you toward the edge. You could feel the pressure building, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach until it snapped, your body shaking as you came, your cries of pleasure filling the room. Drew didn’t let up, his tongue continuing to stroke you through your climax until you were panting, your body trembling with the aftershocks.

When you finally managed to catch your breath, you reached for him, your hands pushing him back onto the bed. You straddled his hips, your wet pussy hovering over his cock as you looked down at him. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his breath coming in short, ragged pants as he watched you.

“My turn,” you said, your voice low and sultry.

Lowered yourself onto him slowly, his thick cock stretching you as you took him inch by inch. You groaned, your head falling back as he filled you completely, your walls clenching around him. You could feel every ridge, every pulse of his cock inside you, and it made you shudder with pleasure. You moved your hips, grinding against him as you started to ride him, your movements slow and deliberate.

“Fuck, y/n… you feel so good,” Drew groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he watched you move.

You leaned forward, your hands resting on his chest as you quickened your pace, your pussy tightening around him with every thrust. His hands moved to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You moaned, your hips rolling against his as you lost yourself in the rhythm, the pleasure building with every movement.

“You like that, baby?” you asked, your voice breathless.

Drew nodded, his eyes locked on yours.

“God, yes… you’re so fucking tight.”

You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, and you knew he was close. But you weren’t done yet. You wanted to push him over the edge, to make him lose control. You leaned back, your hands resting on his thighs as you increased your pace, your pussy clenching around him as you rode him harder, faster. You could feel the tension building in your body, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable.

“Drew… I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t respond, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust up into you, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. You cried out, your body shaking as you came, your pussy pulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. Drew groaned, his hips bucking as he thrust into you one last time, his cock pulsing as he spilled himself inside you.

You collapsed onto the bed beside him, your body still trembling with the aftershocks. Drew turned to you, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face as he looked into your eyes.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

You smiled, your hand resting on his chest as you felt his heartbeat slowing beneath your palm.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you said softly.

“You did,” he replied, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

You shifted, moving so that you were lying on your side, Drew’s arm wrapped around you as you pressed your back against his chest. His cock was still inside you, and you could feel it twitching as it softened. His other hand moved between your legs, his fingers brushing over your clit in slow, teasing circles that made you shiver.

“Drew…” you whimpered, your body still sensitive from your orgasm.

“Shh,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

“Just relax, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the sensation of his fingers on your clit, his cock still buried deep inside you. It was overwhelming, the pleasure building again as his hand moved faster, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. You could feel yourself getting closer, your body trembling with the need to cum again.

“Drew, I’m gonna…” you started, your voice breaking as the pleasure crested.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispered, his voice husky and low.

You cried out, your body shaking as you came again, your pussy clenching around his cock as waves of pleasure washed over you. Drew held you close, his arms wrapping around you as you rode out the waves of your orgasm.

Lay there, his cock still inside you, his hand still stroking your clit. You were exhausted, your body limp and boneless, but you didn’t want it to end. You wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped in Drew’s arms, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

“I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice soft and sleepy.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Diet Pepsi (18+)

A modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend reader smutshot

When we drive in your car, I'm your baby So sweet Losing all my innocence in the backseat

a/n : how do I explain this? I suppose the song Diet Pepsi got stuck in my head, and when I watched the music video, the only male lead I could envision in that sorta situation is our Aemond/Ewan. So here ya go! Reading time... depends on what you get into 😉💋

masterlist

themes/warnings : pure smut, filthy actions and filthy language, complete disregard for sports car interiors, old money boyfriend Aemond x bratty internet starlet girlfriend reader, sticky surfaces, foggy windows, wayward fingers, sliding tongues, and YES YES YES

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

Your boyfriend glances at you from the corner of his eye, barely, his attention remaining on the road. But his veiny hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh, fully exposed beneath the scrap of pale pink fabric that you try to pass off as a miniskirt.

Mission accomplished. After only a few minutes of pretending to stew while looking out the window, he is quick to sense that something is amiss with his kitten.

"Nothing," you respond in the best downcast tone you can manage, fighting the urge to clench your thighs to trap his thick fingers in the warmth between.

"Come on now," he clicks his tongue, "don't play around."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You've barely looked at me since you got in the fucking car." Poor baby. You're getting to him, as planned.

Time to rile him up in a way that only you can. "Do you think Maris is pretty?"

He scoffs, "Don't start, kitten."

"So you do," you egg him on. "I knew it. You were looking at her tits earlier. I bet you loved it when that skank bent over in front of you. Gave you a good view."

"Kitten, please," his grip on your flesh tightens, trying to get you stop. "You're being ridiculous."

"And you didn't answer my question, Aemond," you snap back, grabbing his hand and prying it from your leg.

"Fuck's sake," he groans. He then rests both his hands on the steering wheel, at the standard 10 and 2, grasping onto it so roughly that the leather squeaks.

You called him Aemond. Not babe. Not handsome. You must be pissed, for some imagined reason, and he simply does not have the time.

Impatient, he goes off on a tirade, "You've asked me this shit before, babe, and my answer remains the same. I don't care about any other girl. You're the only one that I want, that I will ever want."

Licking your lips, and looking slyly at him behind your done-up eyelashes, you say, "You could've fooled me." He raises his brow at your childishness, muscles flexing under his tight white shirt as he makes a sharp turn. You continue, "I know what I saw. You want her, is that it? Is it because she's got status like you?"

"You have status," he corrects you, "The whole damn country practically knows your name."

"But it's not the same," you moan. "I didn't come from money. My blood isn't blue."

He sighs audibly, "We talked about this. None of that fucking matters, kitten. Especially not to me."

You cross your legs, leaning against the car door as if to inch away from him, your devilishly handsome silver-haired aristocratic boyfriend. The very one you're so keen on tormenting now. "You don't know how I feel."

But he does. You've long since lost track of the countless times you've been blindsided by an uncharacteristic wave of self-doubt. You, infamous for being one of the bubbliest and most outgoing personalities on the internet, your lifestyle guides and fashion spreads a mainstay on every social media platform.

But ever since you started dating Aemond, you can't help but feel unworthy sometimes. He is Aemond Targaryen after all, a glowing young heir to one of the most powerful families in the country, his lineage extending back to the great Valyrian empire.

Old money, as they say. That was his life, but before him, you thought old money was just some fashion trend that dominated your Pinterest boards.

You met at a charity gala for the Hightower Foundation. Unaware of who he was, he was simply a hot guy you set your sights on, and you managed to get his attention by accidentally spilling your espresso martini down his crisp tailored shirt.

Women were not usually that forward when approaching him, especially not those who ran in the same circles as him, like the Baratheon sisters or the Tyrell heiress. But you were different. You were simply, unabashedly yourself. Your biggest asset was you - your personality, your style, your genuine warmth that allows you to build connections with anyone in the industry - you didn't walk into a room with the snootiness and entitlement of a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

The chemistry was instant, overriding any superficial issues that may arise from someone like him getting with someone like you. Which is why you snuck out of the gala together, and fucked each other senseless in the backseat of his car, sweaty and giggling and whispering sweet nothings like you were already long-time lovers back then.

As you are now, nearly two years later. Aemond's love for you has only grown a thousand fold, and he shows this every day.

The car idles at a stop sign. He reaches for your face and implores, "Kitten, look at me, please."

"No," you impetuously say, making him drop his hand.

"Baby, come on."

"Don't feel like it, Aemond."

The light turns green. The car zooms past houses and open fields. Shops and smaller, unknown places of business. They all come together in a blur. The tension is at an all-time high in the car, just as you intended.

He makes several maneuvers, and the scenery outside begins to look unfamiliar to you. The street you enter next is particularly quiet, almost empty, all the shops closed for the day or boarded up. It's likely on the outskirts of King's Landing, far from the Targaryen estate in its central area of Red Keep.

"You still gonna be a brat?" he asks lowly.

You smirk, "Don't call me a fucking brat."

"Have it your way, kitten," he says, and it sounds like a promise. The car pulls up to a vacant parking lot behind an old restaurant, the surrounding area covered by a thin tree line. There is no one, and nothing in sight.

He leans back, and takes a few deep breaths.

"You've been a bad girl, my kitten."

"Have I?" you bite your lip, no longer fighting the urge to clench your thighs. The miniskirt rides up higher, and his eyes become drawn to the sight, his cock hardening underneath his blue jeans.

He hums, leaning over and grabbing your jaw towards him with one hand, "Yeah, bringing shit up like that. Like I would ever look at anyone besides you."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Want me to fucking mention the time you actually flirted with the Stark boy in front of me?"

"I wasn't - "

"Shut up, kitten," he spits. "I'm not dumb."

His voice dips low, and you feel your cunny growing wet and slick. Gods, he is so hot like this. Assertive yet downright sensual. He only wants one thing, and you will surrender it to him in a heartbeat.

"What you gonna do 'bout it, handsome?" You lick your gloss-covered lips and you are caught off guard when he pushes his thumb inside and orders, "Suck."

You obey. His pupil significantly dilates in one eye, while the sapphire fixture in the other glints beautifully. He looks regal, and he's all yours.

"That's right," he breathes, his vision clouding over in lust as he feels the pad of your tongue, "fucking minx. Always so insolent, huh?"

"Mhmmm." When tears blur the corners of your eyes, he takes his hand and sucks right where you did. Then he pulls you in roughly, kissing you with everything in him, the lewdest grunts of pleasure escaping him when you push your tongue past his teeth.

"Come... come 'ere," he places you on top of himself, straddling him in the driver's seat, the lace of your underwear rubbing against his denim. "Gods, this fucking skirt." He pokes at it, lips curling. "You torture me, darlin'. Now you gotta make up for it."

You jut your bottom lip out, dragging your bright pink fingernails across his cheek. His mouth parts at the sight of his pretty little kitten practically begging for it.

"Is that so, handsome? Why don't you make me?"

He anchors his fingers in the thin bands of your underwear and in a sure and decisive flash of movement, he rips the material apart. He throws it over his shoulder, and it lands in the backseat, among the littered lollipop and bubblegum wrappers you leave behind. He loves it when you suck on that hard candy shell in front of him. It's partially the reason why your penchant for sweet treats has gotten worse.

Your pussy is exposed to the cool draft coming from the AC of his car, and it's a good and familiar sensation. He fondles your clit, little slow circles, making you whimper. He presses on, eager to unwrap his kitten like a piece of candy to be devoured. The zip of your miniscule skirt slides down, and your bare ass and cunny is revealed to him.

"Gods fucking damn, kitten," he rasps, then slowly buries three whole fingers into your slickness, spreading your folds, pumping in and out.

"Aghhhh, baby," erupts from your glossy mouth, breath hitching as he picks up the pace. In and out. Out and in.

His face appears almost sinister, clouded over in lust, his bottom lip trapped under bunny teeth, but then he whispers, "I love you, kitten. I love you so fucking much," and you see him as your Aemond. He's offering more than just his body - to you, he has already surrendered his heart and soul.

"I love you too, baby," you respond in as firm of a voice as you can manage, made even more difficult when he probes that sweet spot inside your sopping cunt.

You leak onto his fingers, droplets of your milky white substance beginning to pool in his palm.

"Ask me again," he snarls, shapely lips pulling back to reveal his sharp teeth.

"Wh-what?" you reply in a daze.

"That stupid question," he says. His pace doesn't slow; if he keeps up, you just might forget how to speak, save for incoherent noises that make his cock twitch.

"You'd rather be... b' with... a fancy heiress," you try, pausing when he pinches your hardened nipple over your crop top with his other hand. "Maris... Baratheon... or Floris... or - "

"Look at me, princess," he says, "You feel that? You feel me? There's your fucking answer."

"Not enough," you shake your head feebly, keeping up the ruse. Judging by the buldge he sports, he's into it too.

Smirking, he pulls his glistening fingers out of you, and helps you out of your crop top. He chucks the material somewhere, before ducking his head and nipping at the mounds of your breasts.

"Unnnghhh," you hear him, muffled by your flesh. He undoes your lace bra and sucks wildly. You cradle his head with both hands, keeping him pressed against your tits. His tongue flickers out to taste your skin, and he angles his face so that your eyes meet when he takes a nipple in his mouth.

"Shit, baby," you whimper, heating up all over from the sheer intimacy of it all.

His mouth lets you go with a resounding pop, and he tilts his head toward the backseat, hands gripping your hips to guide you. He follows suit, removing his white shirt in the process, as well as his jeans, shimmying them off his legs as he scrambles after you.

He smacks your ass with an open palm as it is raised in front of him in full view, the sharp sting of it only making you grow wetter.

You shuffle onto your hands and knees, looking back to see him already in position. His fine Valyrian steel chain dangles from his neck, the one thing still on his person. His boxers are also discarded, and his length is fully erect, slapping his stomach when he leans over to hastily cover your mouth with his. Your tongues battle for dominance, drool dripping down your chins. You feel a strain in your neck from twisting back to accommodate his kiss, but you don't care.

You feel it poking at your backside, feel him, his cock all slippery from hot precum dribbling down the sides.

He rocks back, hands digging into the soft flesh of your ass, keeping you in the prime position for him to take.

In a swift movement that nearly drives you insane, he twists downward until his face is level with your opening, and he buries his tongue in your soaking pussy. You know he likes it rough, so do you, and this is his way of getting you ready.

"Fuuckkk," you collapse forward, the side of your face colliding with the smooth leather seat. He twirls his tongue around, and you swear you can see stars.

You must have blacked out for a split second, delirious from the high only he can give you, because a moment later you feel his tip edging itself slowly into your cunt.

"Ready, baby?" he asks.

"Fuck me," is your strained plea.

His cock stretches you out, inch by inch, your slicked walls straining against his sheer size. A whining noise leaves you, music to Aemond's ears, and when he's fully sheathed, he exhales, "So pretty. Such a good little slut for me, kitten." That sends you over the edge.

You move forward slightly, then back again, your ass slamming right into his pelvis. He gets the message, smart boy that he is.

With an animalistic growl, he proceeds to frantically buck his hips into you, his huge cock just about splitting you open. He slaps your ass as he goes, making you tremble.

Each thrust sends shockwaves throughout your body, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Your dripping cunt begins to feel that familiar ache, your lower belly spasming from his ceaseless thrusts. Your knees threaten to buckle, and if they do, you imagine that his firm throbbing shaft will be enough to keep you propped up.

"Aemond... baby... " your moans echo in the car, joined by his, "Yes... yes, kitten... so fucking good, taking me like this... pussy so sweet for me... "

The filthiest of words spill from the two of you like prayers from the damned, just begging to be answered. And seven hells, with the way Aemond makes you feel like you're floating amongst the skies, he just might be your salvation.

He does not relent, intent on rearranging your insides with how deep he buries his cock inside of you. You don't want him to stop. You never do.

You have to hold onto something to keep steady, to keep from utterly flopping down in a mindless haze. Your palms reach for the fogged up windows, and Aemond angles your bodies so that you're half-seated atop his thighs. He grabs hold of your breasts as leverage, squeezing them as your leaking cunt squeezes his cock.

The angle allows him to fill you better, and that heated coil unfurls in your belly, a signal that you are about to reach your peak.

He draws forward, pressing his mouth to the back of your neck, licking your sweat with reckless abandon.

"Baby," he moans, "I'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... "

"Oh, yeah?" you answer in a high-pitched, wanton manner.

"Yeah," he breathes.

"You promise?"

He chuckles, and you feel the sound reverberating as your back is pressed to his chest.

"My sweet kitten," he purrs.

"I'm getting close, baby," you let him know, and he takes it as his cue to pound his cock inside faster. His lips are pressed to your ear, arms wrapped around your torso possessively.

He lets himself go, decorating your insides white with his Targaryen seed. You glance down and see it spilling out of your cunt, milky rivulets staining the once-pristine leather seat. His cock convulses in your pussy, waves of his release pulsing like fragmented aftershocks. It hits the right spot, bringing you to that little death, your walls contracting from the dizzying pleasure he gives you.

With that stupid and blissed-out smile on your face, you lean back, collapsing on top of him. You soon find yourselves curled together on the backseat, a mess of sweaty and satisfied limbs.

His silver hair is matted against his forehead, and you reach up and brush them away. He catches your hand and presses a loving kiss to the back of it.

He props his head up on one arm, as you draw lazy circles on the firm planes of his chest. You whisper sweet nothings to each other, as you had on the night you met.

"You should rile me up more often, you little brat," he smirks crookedly.

You roll your eyes, but peck his lips anyway with a cheeky smack, "Isn't that all I do, baby?"

"Sure, kitten," he says, "and I fucking love you for it."

"Oh, baby," you purr, and your wayward fingers reach down to stroke his half-erect cock. His brows raise in amusement, but it only takes several good pumps before his shaft is again taut from your touch. You whisper, "I love you too."

And so the second round begins.

Taglists (refer here to be added)

Vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @9431789 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk

Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found

P.S. eagle-eyed readers can probably spot the nod to chemical override ;)

[princessbrunette]

john b made puppy!reader cum a whole bunch of times. no, not to overstimulate her — he’d thought about it, many times with his cock in his hand, but it was early days. today, he just had to be certain that she was slicked up enough to even get him inside that snug cunt.

he drags the tip through your puffy folds, watching each and every way your body jerks and twitches — audibly soaked, your arousal clicking and oozing with each grind of his hips. you were still sensitive, naturally — the taste of you still on his tongue, so he was being patient. even when he watched your hole clench around nothing and you placed a smaller hand on his wrist.

“please, i still want it daddy.” you groan, tearful and demure.

“look, i want you to know that we don’t have to do anything today if you don’t —”

“i still want it, daddy.” you suck in a breath so sharp you nearly choke on it and he raises his eyebrows, nodding in yielding.

“okay, okay. take it easy sweetheart. i’ll give you what you want.”

he watches the way his fat tip presses against your puffy pussy lips, spreading them obscenely from just the slightest pressure. john b always knew he was big, bigger than average atleast. curious eyes had decided that for himself upon taking shy glances around all-male changing rooms and locker room conversations about dick size that had friends saying ‘you’re a fucking liar, bro.’ the girls in his past had a little more experience than you, and welcomed the stretch — but looking at you below him, he wondered if this could potentially scare you off. he was about to do something he never thought he’d do, chicken out.

“bubba…” he cradles you, sliding hands under your back to hold you close and press kisses to your hot skin. john b’s voice was filled with sympathy, and if you weren’t so hazy in the head, desperate for his dick — you might’ve picked up on what he was about to say. “i don’t think it’s gonna fit, puppy.” he coo’s.

“no!” you whine petulantly. it wasn’t like you to be spoiled or demanding — but you had been preparing all week to take your boyfriend and you’d be damned if you didn’t get to atleast try to feel him inside you. “no, john b!” crestfallen, you let the hot tears race down your cheeks and his brows crease, feeling awful about it.

“i don’t want to hurt you, okay? i just —”

“make it fit, please— please make it fit john b, need it so bad!” you babble out a beg, snot pooling beneath your nose and all. he’d seen desperation, and he’d seen you cry — but never had he seen you cry in desperation for his cock. it twitches involuntarily against you, the heavy pink tip thumping your clit making you jerk, shuddering.

“heyheyheyhey— okay, okay. sweetheart, look at me. look at daddy. riiiight here.” he presses a wide hand to your chest to still you, the warmth of his palm proving to serve as some comfort as you suck in a shaky breath, bottom lip still wobbling. “thaaats my girl. breathe, okay?” he feels the thudding of your heart slow ever so slightly against his palm as you suck in slow trembling breaths. “i’m… i’m gonna try okay? but you… you need to breathe. gonna give me a heart attack, pup — jesus.” he sighs, lining himself up once more.

he decides one fluid motion might be better, so once he starts pushing in he doesn’t stop. slowly, but surely he feels your walls contract and stretch around his thickness — your jaw tense in determination as you put every muscle possible into lax, allowing john b to do what needs to be done.

“that okay? talk to me puppy how does it feel?”

“feels full.” you say through a strained tongue. you didn’t know you’d stopped breathing.

“what’d i say, hm? breathe.”

you suck in a long hard breath at this permission, and as you do so john b takes the opportunity to bottom out completely, dropping his forehead to your shoulder to let out a gravelly groan as you squeak. you feel as though you can’t even clench. there’s no space. he feels your glossy walls fluttering and trying anyway.

“happy, pup? that feel nice?”

he lifts his head, warm brown eyes searching your watery iris. there’s a softness to you suddenly, like you’d completely let go and you nod— a clammy hand pushing his wavy brown hair from his face.

“i wanna stay like this forever.”

[wandassweetheart]

PICTURE YOU!

currently playing… ‘picture you’ by chappell roan.

pairing - wanda maximoff x fem!reader

warning! - 18+ mdni, smut, masturbation, dirty thoughts, confessions, oral (f receiving), fingering

a/n - is this pesbian lorn?🤭 anyways picture you has literally been stuck in my head because of chappell’s vocals in it. the song was on repeat whilst writing this. #womenlovewanda

you had become so infatuated with wanda your thoughts became so lustful. you were starting to lose it with how bad you needed her. you’d even resorted to touching yourself to accommodate your needs but not even that was enough anymore. imagining your fingers on your wet, dripping pussy as wanda’s wasn’t the same as having her actual hands on you.

so you had a routine which you followed almost every night which entailed…

drawing the blinds and lighting every candle.

slipping off your pretty dress down your chest whilst thinking of her.

both your lips on the mirror, envisioning wanda as your reflection.

it was ritualistic. you counted where all of wanda’s lipstick stains should be on your bare body.

you had started to run your fingers down your stomach and in between your thighs. you could already feel your soaking pussy throbbing and aching for it to be touched. you closed your eyes and slowly opened your legs to give your fingers entrance. a soft whimper escaped your lips as you felt your fingers brush lightly against your swollen clit. steadily, you rubbed your fingers in a cyclic pattern on and around your clit. you tried to be quiet as possible not wanting anyone outside to hear you. your legs stretched across the bed from the satisfaction you were feeling.

oh, you needed her around.

your other hand had started kneading at your breast, visualising it as wanda’s hand whilst she goes down on you and eats your pussy out like it was her last last meal. you began rocking your hips to your fingers, creating as much friction as possible. slowly, you started to dip your fingers into your cunt thrusting them in and out trying to chase your orgasm. you let out a muffled sigh as your fingers continued to pump and curl inside of you.

you were getting close now.

your hand continued to massage your breast and your fingers continued to thrust into you until you heard a knock at your door. you completely froze when wanda called out your name. shit, fuck, not right now, please. you thought to yourself. “um, i’m changing!” you called out with a squeak trying to recover from what was happening not even five seconds ago. you quickly wrapped a nightgown around yourself and hid your soaked, sticky fingers behind your back.

“come in,” you call out again, allowing her to enter. “hello,” she said with a smile and a little furrow in her eyebrow, “am i interrupting something?” she asked. “no, not at all. what’s up?” you answered —way too fast. “i wanted to talk to you, if that’s okay?” she questioned, her accent was audible and there was a hint of vulnerability behind her tone. of course that’s okay, i always want to talk to you wanda, but right now? whilst i was touching myself to thoughts of you? you said to yourself again. “of course,” you replied trying to ignore the fact that there was only a thin layer of silk to cover your naked body.

wanda moved to take a seat on the edge of your bed and you joined her, leaving a bit of a gap between you two. not even a second had gone by before wanda blurted out, “i like you.” no fucking way. your mind started to go crazy and your brain had just gone blank. “do you feel the same?” she continued.

“do you picture me like i picture you?”

“am i in the frame from your point of view?”

holy shit, this was all you could have ever wanted. wanda maximoff liking you back. you smirked at her and answered her questions with a slight chuckle, “i’m too scared to say half of the things i do when i picture you.” with that, she crashed her lips against yours, this wasn’t your reflection this was wanda. you slipped off your nightgown whilst helping wanda remove her clothes and locked lips every time there wasn’t anything between you both. she started to leave lipstick stains down your neck, inching her way towards your empty and pleading pussy. she carefully pushed you back onto the bed as she went down your body, leaving a red kiss mark trailing down your stomach. her lips landed on your core before she stuck out her tongue and started indulging in on you. “fuck, wanda!” you moan out, rushing your hands through her hair and gripping onto the back of her head. her hand clutched onto your waist and the other traced its way back onto your breast squeezing and working on it.

it wasn’t your fingers that would be the reason of your orgasm tonight but wanda’s tongue. you guided her head up and down all the right spots whilst your vision got hazy and your hips rolled against her head. “this is what you’ve been picturing, hm?” wanda’s voice muffled against your body sending vibrations through you. “one day, you’ll tell me all your perversions.” she stated, before going back in on you. you moaned again as you could feel your orgasm ready to over come you. “i’m getting close now,” you mumbled, arching your back. from hearing that, wanda lifted her head and lifted her hands back. you groaned from the lack of touch but immediately shut up when you felt wanda’s middle and ring finger sink and entwine into you. her other hand started rubbing your clit quickly, overstimulating you.

“come for me, my love.” wanda whispered and you let yourself go. your body spasmed through the rush of pleasure, your back could’ve snapped with the way you lifted up. as your high had finally calmed down, wanda sucked your juices off her fingers and laid back next to you. you shifted to look at her and huffed out a whisper.

“it’s my turn to taste you.” then, you moved down the bed to reach her thighs.

[holybibly]

𝔐𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔞 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔥 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔥𝔴𝔞 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

♡ Pairing: Moon bunnies Woosanhwa x reader ♡ Summary: Be careful if you make a wish on a shooting star, because sometimes it can come true. ♡ Genre / Au / Trope: Smut, Korean Mythology!AU, hybrid!AU, mystiс ♡ Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI ♡ Word count: 3.2k ♡ Warnings: Moon bunnies! Woosanhwa, sub!reader, foursome, double vaginal penetration, pussy eating, mating sex, excessive amount of sperm, breeding kink, creampie, stomach bulge, unprotected sex, pet names, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, oral, mating press, cum eating, overstimulation, face fucking, hair pulling, explicit language, wet and dirty, rough sex, and more.

♡ net: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet

♡ A|N: 𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒𝑠. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼'𝑚 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑓𝑠. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝑏𝑦 @ artaem_work 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡.

𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘: 𝐶𝑢𝑡𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐷𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑈𝑛ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑦 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing @claimmeyourprincess

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl @mingisfavgf @bunnyluvr25 @roserperfume @lose-lose07 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lelaleleb @bubblebisk @silverlight-h @ chloe-elise-2000 @cookiesandcreammy @mxnsxngie @ghostlovesworld @i-love-ateez @mingisprincesss @vampscan @peachygiku @vampqueen777 @miyaluvvsyou @oddracha

The sound of your pitiful sobs vibrated around San's pre-cum-leaking cock, making him moan gutturally as he felt the silky, slippery walls of your throat tighten around his massive, sensitive length, stimulating him in the most delightful way. His long velour ears twitch with pleasure, making the silver rings of his piercings ring like bells when they meet. The black cotton tail flutters with each powerful thrust of his hips as San rolls his hips and pushes his cock deeper and deeper into your soft, hot mouth.

Three pairs of gleaming lunar-silver eyes watch greedily as your wet, swollen labia slide apart lecherously around a thick girth of dick, each time Seonghwa thrust mercilessly into the hot tightness of your tiny, dripping cunt. An airy bunny squeaks mingled with your pitiful whimpering, which was barely audible over the loud squelching of your overly wet pussy.

"Seonghwa...' San whimpered, his swollen pink lips pouting childishly in contrast to his sharp, seductively demonic appearance. His muscular thighs continued to jiggle in a lecherous manner as he fucked your beautiful, sweet face. The muscles of his sculpted abs tensed each time the swollen, leaky head of his cock rested against the back of your throat, and you instinctively swallowed, letting it slide deeper into your throat. "Hurry up! Please hurry up! Please Seonghwa! I want to breed her so badly. I want to feed that pretty pussy with my sperm.".

"My God, San, can you have more patience? You're literally fucking her mouth right now." Seonghwa moaned in a velvety voice as he continued to thrust into your pussy; his big cock bulging out on your lower abdomen with every move he made. His elegant hairstyle was completely dishevelled—long strands of silky black hair clinging to his gorgeous face, his golden skin glistening with sweat that made you want to run your tongue over it, and his lips unacceptably swollen and reddened to the point that they looked almost wine red, and it was all because of you—their precious little mate. The pace of his thrusts was slow and deep, and he made sure that the head of his cock rubbed against the entrance to your warm, fertile womb each time he entered you. "Once I have finished breeding our beloved Y/N, it will be your turn. I need to make sure that pussy is full and soaked with my cum; I can already imagine how amazing she'll look carrying my cubs." Hwa purred sensuously, completely ignoring San and Wooyoung's irritated protests.

Wooyoung hissed softly as he jealously watches Seonghwa's thick cock being swallowed up by your honey-sweet, trembling cunt. He sunk his teeth into his plump bottom lip and reached his hand to your pussy to rub your swollen clit in small, aggressive circles. You squeal, the rough, intense stimulation making your head spin. Your body writhes from the pleasure coursing through your core, so intense it's almost painful.

It was hard for you to comprehend what was happening, your mind clouded by the lack of air, the intoxicating mix of pheromones emanating from Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa, and the tight knot of pure, burning pleasure that seemed to grow tighter by the second.

San moaned shrilly above you, his silver-lilac eyes rolling back in bliss as he drove his cock deeper into your mouth, pushing it down your throat until you almost couldn't breathe from the way its wiry, thick length pressed tightly against the walls of your throat. Seonghwa's thrusts became sharper and rougher as your pussy tightened around his cock like a silk vise, trying to hold him inside.

"Oh, Starlight, you are so good to us, our perfect mate. We'll take such good care of you." San's voice was like liquid honey, sticking to your skin. He leaned over you slightly, squeezing your juicy, soft thighs harder, held down by his strong, large hands. Inky splotches of bruises spread across your skin, where his fingers dug roughly into your flesh as he continued to hold you in the mating press. Your whole body ached, your thigh muscles quivering from the uncomfortable position you'd been in for some time—they folded you in half like origami to fuck you impossibly deep. As Wooyoung said, pressing your legs against your shoulders for better access to your cunt, "We need to make sure this pussy is bred and fed."

Speaking of which, Wooyoung's free hand pressed your tender palm against his throbbing cock, slippery with pre-cum and your drool, forcing you to wrap around it. He immediately began to thrust into your fist, his juicy thighs tensing each time the thick length slipped almost completely out of your firm grip, until your little fingers were clenched together on the smooth, leaking head of his cock.

"You like that. Don't you, little queen? The way Seonghwa is going so deep inside of you. I have no doubt that his cock is right at the entrance to your tight little womb. Tell me, my love, do you want us to fuck you all the way through, don't you? Fill you with our cum until your belly is swelling. Come on, little queen, tell us that you want us to breed you  with." You whimpered pitifully, your cheeks burning a dark red at Wooyoung's lewd, disgusting, filthy words, but you couldn't deny the rush of excitement they caused in your body, and more mucus rushed from your used cunt, splashing out of your hole with each powerful thrust from Hwa. The long-haired bunny makes the sexiest sounds you'd ever heard in your entire life as your walls pulsed around his cock, milking it in the most delightful way possible.

San let out another airy moan before pulling his cock out of your mouth. His eyes glazed with pleasure as he watched the viscous strands of your saliva and pre-cum connect the head of his cock to your swollen lips. This allowed you to finally take a full breath, and you can feel the painful burning in your throat from being used as a personalised sleeve for their cocks for hours as they took turns fucking you in the face.

 

'S-Songhwa, please...' You whimpered, your voice raspy from the abuse that your throat had been subjected to. A mix of sugary squeaks and silky, loving moans echo your words. To the three moon bunnies, you looked extremely beautiful; even if you looked a perfect mess smeared with their drool and cum—you were their precious little mate, and how fucked and dirty you looked only boosted their egos and confirmed how well they had treated you and what passionate and generous lovers they were.

Their culture believed that the dirtier and more disgusting the mating process, the more likely it was that their partner would conceive. So in their eyes, you were a radiance of divine beauty and fertility. They had no doubt that you would become pregnant after tonight, and all three of them couldn't wait to shower you with love, care, and quality fucking for the duration of the bearing of their offspring, and then they would breed you again, starting a new cycle.

"Please, please, please, I'm close, I'm so close, please, Seonghwa...' You whimpered again, gazing at the gorgeous long-haired bunny with wide, needy eyes. You could feel the sweet desire building faster and faster in your belly, reaching the tipping point of blinding, white-hot pleasure at an alarming rate, your orgasm so close that you could taste it on your tongue.

Wooyoung purred sensuously at your words, determined to hurry Seonghwa along and speed up your orgasm. He leaned into your pussy, wrapping his plump, plush lips around your tortured, super-sensitive clit just as Seonghwa's cock entered you to the base, slamming its thick head against your G-spot.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, Wooyoung!" You squealed, clutching your trembling fingers into Woo's long, blue-black hair and pulling the soft strands as he continued to suck on your clit.

"Our beautiful mate, let's breed you properly." San cooed as he pressed his palm to your stomach, right where Seonghwa's cock bulged beneath your skin. Your lower abdomen clenched in a reflexive spasm, and you half gasped, half squealed as pure, blunt pleasure pierced your core, your walls tightening around Seonghwa's cock, incentivising the swollen, pulsing veins of its silky length.

The extra pressure on his cock causes Seonghwa to moan lewdly, throwing his head back and opening his mouth, his pelvis rubbing sharply against your thighs as his thick, sticky seed begins to spurt haphazardly inside you. You whimper loudly, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of your stomach beginning to swell from the amount of fluid, seemingly growing larger and larger, your skin stretching to intense sensitivity as Hwa continues to fill you with his warm cum.

"I can't... I can't handle it; it feels so good." The gorgeous long-haired bunny tossed his head from side to side, his beautiful hair tousling even more, his fluffy cotton tail twitching, and his hips tensing painfully as he kept his cock buried deep in the tight warmth of your cunt, pumping even more of his cum into you. "Ah, Starlight, your pussy is milking me so greedily. You were made to take our cocks." Seonghwa's velvety purring is drowned out by the mixture of San's prolonged groans as he jerks his cock and occasionally rubs the smooth, fluid head against your plump cheek, and the husky vibration of Wooyoung's groans felt on your clit as the beautiful bunny keeps grinding the sensitive nerve ball with his insatiable, wet mouth. His tongue never stops rubbing against your swollen bud. It curls around and pokes at it as he greedily sucks your pussy as if his life depended on it.

Seonghwa squeals sweetly above you, savouring the sensation of your slippery, silky cunt walls contracting around his thick cock in the most delightful way, holding it tightly inside you like a vise. He's practically glowing with pride and smugness at how well he's doing as your partner's lover. You can practically see little sparkling hearts in his moon-blue eyes as he watches you moan and writhe under their care, and he knows that San and Wooyoung are fully sharing with him this almost painfully sweet feeling of falling in love with you.

He can't stop himself from showering you with even more compliments and praise.

"Look how well you take me, how much I come inside you; you're such a good little mate." Seonghwa practically gasps as he begins to painfully slowly pull his cock out of your used cunt, doing it carefully and gently so as not to let a single drop of his cum spill out of your smooth hole. You moan softly as Wooyoung finally pulls his lips away from your clit, licking it wide one last time before raising his hazy, smokey-silver eyes to you. His fucking kissable lips are glistening with your slime, swollen beyond belief from all the service he's given your pussy.

"Your tastes are so fucking heavenly, I can't get enough of it." Wooyoung sang sweetly, reaching up to you to cover your loveliest fucked face with soft, greasy kisses, totally oblivious to the fact that your cheeks are glistening with San's pre-cum and your saliva.

That gentle caress distracted you for a second, trapping you in a soft trap, and you couldn't even react to the way Wooyoung's strong hands unexpectedly grabbed your hips roughly, and he turned you over sharply, ending up underneath you. You screamed as your hair was grabbed sharply and San's heavy, scorching body pressed against your back; a thick, hard cock slipped between your buttocks as San's wet, panting breath ran down your skin. Wooyoung's plump lips press against your neck.

"Take such good care of you, my queen. Make you such a beautiful mommy; feed that pussy to the fullest." San whispers sultrily into your skin, squeezing his fingers harder into your hair. His cock slides between your buttocks a few more times before you feel the thick, swollen head pressing against your hole next to Wooyoung's cock. A loud squeal escapes your lungs as both their cocks concurrently thrust into your stretched cunt in one smooth slide.

"That's right, Starlight, you can take so much more than just me, can't you, little Queen? You're such a good girl, perfect for us. Let San and Wooyoung show you how much they love you. Let them breed that beautiful cunt of yours." Seonghwa would gently soothe you and play with your fingers as San and Wooyoung began to pound into you with deep, powerful thrusts. The whole bedroom was filled with the sounds of your squelching cunt, loud, high-pitched moans, and the wet slapping of their heavy cum filled balls against your plump, flushed buttocks.

"Oh, love, you have nothing to cry about; look how well you take them—so sweet, so perfect, we love you so much." Seonghwa's voice is a soft, rolling purr as he watches the younger bunnies fill your beautiful, fertile pussy with their cocks. Feelings of clan pride spill over his chest, and a new wave of desire rushes through his body, sending a faint shiver down his long velour ears.

Not wanting to be left out of the fun, he brings your fingers to his mouth, swallows them deeply, and begins to suck them in a slow and sensual manner. Like all bunnies, he had an acute oral fixation, and normally after copulation, bunnies would relieve this compulsive itching by sucking on their mate's breasts, but as you were clearly not in a position to allow him to wrap his lips around your nipple, he would settle for your sugary fingers.

You lost yourself in the overwhelming sensations of indescribable painful ecstasy that shook you with every thrust of San's and Wooyoung's thick cocks into your leaking pussy, like electric shocks. Everything that was happening was so far removed from reality that you had no feeling at all, and you couldn't bring yourself to do anything other than moan and babbling their names incoherently while the bunny boys kept stuffing you to the brim.

You felt as if you were drowning, your weak body sandwiched between two insatiable, lustful bunnies, torturing your pussy, who insistently stretched your tight walls with their thick girths. Your mouth was open and your tongue was sticking out, as if that would make it easier for you to breathe, especially as San pushed even harder against you, almost forcing you into Wooyoung's body.

He moaned hotly into your ear, the piercings in his long ears jingling with every thrust of his hips into you, the sweat from his hair dripping down onto your skin. His lips were burning hot as he whispered to you about all the disgusting, vulgar things that he was going to do to you. In those moments when the head of his cock was bumped against your womb, he would painfully pull at your hair and squeak sweetly, which was a stunning contrast to his animalistic, rough actions.

Wooyoung wasn't much better, digging his fingers into your buttocks and leaving more bruises, his teeth scratching and biting your neck and collarbones. His long, sweat-soaked hair was clinging to his handsome face. His lips were swollen, and the smoky silver irises of his eyes had darkened to the point where they resembled the thickening darkness of storm clouds. For a moment, one of his hands comes up to your face to stroke it soothingly before his fingers wipe the stringy saliva from your parted lips and chin, and then, with a sharp, deep thrust, he pushes them into your mouth. For a second you gasp and begin to gurgle around the long appendages, to which the three bunnies let out a sweet, loud squeak sound of satisfaction as they continue to serve your pussy and your fingers.

"Damned nice, I can't wait for my cock to fuck your tight little throat again, my little mate." Wooyoung looks absolutely drunk as he looks up at you with his glittering, starish eyes, his eyelids fluttering, and his cheeks turning red and hot. You let out a strangled moan, saliva bubbling at the corners of your lips; it's almost disgusting, but your voluptuous bunnies don't care about it at all.

Seonghwa lets your fingers out of his mouth just to shower you with praise and words of love once more before he starts to urge Wooyoung and San to go faster and harder and to fuck you good and proper, just the way you needed it. His big, sparkling blue eyes watch in fascination as you collapse in their arms, reaching another orgasm for the night.

It's a sharp sensation that pierces every nerve in your body and sparks of hot pleasure tingling on your skin. Your sensitive cunt was trembling, your delicate labia reddened and coated with Seonghwa's sticky, milky cum that was gushing out of you with every movement of the two passionate bunnies as they continued to drag their cocks along your sensitive walls, making you feel overexcited. 

Suddenly their hips freeze, both of them trembling slightly as your milked pussy squeezes their cocks together, causing them to rub against each other, which only serves to increase their pleasure even more. You sob loudly, hypersensitive and overwhelmed, your body writhing between them as you feel their thick cum begin to fill you to the brim, bringing you to orgasm once again. This time it's different; black dots begin to dance in front of your eyes, and your consciousness shuts down as you fall into the extreme, insane pleasure that has engulfed every cell in your body.

You must have passed out because the next moment you blink tiredly, opening your heavy eyelids to find yourself sandwiched between the big, warm bodies of your three magnificent lunar bunnies. Seonghwa curled up protectively behind you, breathing wetly into your neck and hugging your waist tightly. San pressed you against his muscular, naked chest, and Wooyoung nuzzled his face into your sensitive, cum-filled belly and sucked your thumb.

The moonlight that flooded into the bedroom danced on the walls, and you wide-open your eyes when suddenly a bright flash of a shooting star cut through the peaceful night sky and disappeared into the darkness. And that's when you remember the stupidest thing you've ever done in your life and how its three insatiable, tenacious, and utterly glorious consequences are now clear to you.

You should have been more careful about making a wish on a shooting star on the night of the rabbit moon, but who knew the universe would take your request so literally and your "I wish someone would love me to death and fuck me like a bunny in heat..." would come true in the form of three impossibly gorgeous, sexy lunar bunnies as your mates. You let out a small sigh, thinking that sometimes you have to be careful when wishing on a shooting star because it turns out they can come true.

[bookyeom]

whatever you say, bro - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: kissing, Shrek slander request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."

Read Part Two here!

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?

Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen. 

Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro

You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.

Bro.

It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.

Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny. 

Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro. 

You close your eyes with a sigh. 

"Thumb war."

"What?"

You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.

"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie." 

Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on." 

As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.

You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too. 

“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned. 

You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.

"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.  

"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little. 

"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you." 

The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.

Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."

Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.

But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.” 

For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier. 

As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”

Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote. 

“What did you say?”

“I said you’re annoying.”

You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best. 

“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line. 

It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.

"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much. 

"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –

Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.

When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”

Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”

“You kissed me.”

Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”

Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible. “I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.

A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers

Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika

“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”

“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”

You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down. 

“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”

He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.” 

He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them. 

“I’m serious.”

Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”

“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint. 

“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?

“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”

He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office. 

Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again. 

Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground. 

You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner. 

What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone. 

Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl. 

Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates. 

“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”

Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”

You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.” 

“Really?”

“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”

Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around. 

Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.

The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe. 

Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves. 

“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing. 

“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination. 

Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though. 

A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.

“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman. 

Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction. 

You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen. 

Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone. 

The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”

“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”

A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”

Eddie smirks. “One…two—”

Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits. 

Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself. 

Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land. 

His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though. 

Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet. 

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?

Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk. 

In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside. 

Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit. 

“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”

“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you. 

“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”

“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds. 

“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”

“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”

“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”

He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”

“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so. 

“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”

A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”

“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”

“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”

Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”

“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”

He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey. 

All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—

A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”

“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”

“Don’t care.”

Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies. 

Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs. 

Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately. 

“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.” 

You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch. 

Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter. 

“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you. 

The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice. 

One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible. 

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”

He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom. 

The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.

“Get the fuck out!” you hiss. 

Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.

Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.

“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.” 

Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them. 

Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”

You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind. 

“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”

“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle. 

A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”

“Only for you,” you echo. 

He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”

The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror. 

When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.

“Atta girl,” he praises. 

At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”

The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle. 

He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”

You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip. 

“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading. 

“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached. 

“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”

You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.” 

Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl. 

One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”

“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles. 

“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”

He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you. 

Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him. 

A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.

“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.

“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”

Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in. 

The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.

“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.

“Yeah?”

“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had. 

Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”

A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.

“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”

A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can. 

“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”

You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”

Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur: 

“You read my mind, Beautiful.”

--

[camzeecorner]

𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 ₊˚ෆ 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

smut ღ dividers → @bernardsbendystraws ฅ^._.^ฅ

The sounds of vibrations bounced off the walls into the air. The air was chilly, with the slight breeze fanning into the room. Light humming sounds and muffled moans could be heard. Quiet and faint noise so little it was barely audible.

“So good for me baby.” Chris whispered into your ear. He smiled up at you, flashing that perfect smile that you loved so dearly. You nodded lightly at him, eyes rolling back slighty.

“Feel good?” He asked quietly. He observed your face watching as your bottom lip quivered from the overwhelming pleasure. The way you would scrunch your nose when he hit the perfect spot. “Yea” you squeaked out. You bit your lip trying to suppress the loud noises that dared to spillfrom you.

He pushed the small pink bullet further into you causing you to yelp. You could barely handle the pressure he was forcing into you. You clenched tightly around the toy as he repeatedly pushed it in and out of you. Your lower body shook at the new sensation. Feeling beads of sweat drip down your forehead you panted. Chris watched in awe as you cried out for him.

He laughed silently as he enjoyed the view below him. “This is so fucking hot. Watching you twitch and squirm. Matt make you feel this good princess? Hm does he. No, I didn’t think so.” Chris praised you as you continued to cry in pleasure. Hearing his words made you more wetter, which you were sure was impossible. You were sure you were sitting in a puddle of your wetness that had dripped from you onto the bed.

“N-no he can’t.. not like yo-you do.” You admitted. Matt couldn’t help you feel nearly as good as Chris could. Hell, he could barely last 3 minutes. It never satisfied you enough. After months of built up sexual frustrations and tension you finally decided you were done. You turned to Chris. You knew it was wrong to ask your boyfriend’s brother to help you cum. But you were more than desperate.

Chris kissed up your arms, to your neck, slowly reaching his destination. He kissed your lips slowly feeling every touch of your tongue as he sucked lightly. He moaned into the kiss cupping your face. By now he had replaced the small bullet with his fingers. Plunging them into you fast causing you to jerk your body. Slowly fucking yourself onto his fingers.

“Oh god.. uh huh- shit just like that.” You begged, gripping his arm tightly as you yelled. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you tossed your head back. He could feel you clenching tightly around him, his signal you were soon to be done.

“Like that princess. It’s okay. I want you to feel so good. Cum hard on daddy’s fingers.” He kissed your cheek while praising you. He never referred himself as daddy till now. It was so hot. It was enough to make you snap. Shaking uncontrollably you came hard, just like he had instructed you.

You whimpered quietly as you came undone. Breathing hard, trying to gather some air in your lungs you leaned your head back. You fluttered your eyes shut, gaining a steady breathing pace.

“Feel better now?” He asked after a few moments of silence. You looked at him through your hooded eyes nodding slightly. “Thank you Chris.” You whispered, your voice coming out slightly shaken. He smiled at you and rubbed your cheek. “My pleasure princess.”

After Chris had cleaned you up, he walked out your room getting a water to rehydrate you. “Hey Matt just got back im gonna go downstairs.” He warned you. You nodded at him taking in his words. “I’ll see you later, perhaps maybe tonight?” He joked causing you to laugh. “Yea sure, after all you’re my dirty little secret.” You giggled. He walked out shutting the door behind him. You stay in bed contemplating if you had chosen the right brother.

Tag list - @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous @kayeeaa @ribread03 @meatballlover10 @mattslolita

[oceantornadoo]

bloody perfect

this is so insane i am so sorry

ao3 link

roommate!simon riley x f!reader with a blood/period kink, dubcon, slightly mean!simon, blood as a symbol for love and devotion (two and a half steps away from cannibalism)

—

the door to your apartment opened in a blurred flash, keys jangling from the door. you snapped shut the book you had been reading, jumping to stand at attention, like some poor imitation of a soldier. like your roommate.

“hi, simon. nice to have you back.” you squeaked out, forcing your shoulders to relax. simon had his back to you, gloved hands fiddling with the lock. his boots looked dirty, streaks of dirt staining the floor. your gaze lifted up to the back of him, looking impossibly bigger than before he left for deployment. he somehow filled out his jeans more, thighs and ass hugging them in all the right places. even his black sweatshirt seemed strained against his shoulders, fabric fighting the breadth of his wingspan. your eyes landed on his head, hair messy from taking off his balaclava. you felt yourself step forward once, twice, almost in a trance. it had been so long.

“can feel ya starin’, love. miss me?” simon turned around, his smirk mean around the edges. you were hit with the full force of his gaze, new scratches on his face, a bandage on his arm. “you-you’re hurt.” he gazed down at the bandage, as if just realizing it was there. “‘s nothin’. didn’t answer my question.” you gulped audibly, almost comically. the air was sticky sweet with your nervousness and his cockiness, getting thicker by the minute as he kicked off his boots and made his way towards you. you didn’t understand it, this sudden change in your dynamic. you’d been cordial roommates, sharing a few meals and a movie or two. it was nice to have the apartment to yourself (that’s what you told yourself on cold nights), nice to have the rent taken care of with an absent roommate. but something had changed. some hunger had festered, sickly growth set behind simon’s eyes. he met you in two steps, taunting you with his height as he forced you to crane your neck towards him. it was his nearness that threw you off, made you say some insane thing.

“i missed you.”

his eyes flashed, clearly not expecting your submissiveness. practically a bitch in heat, rolling over to show him your tummy. he could almost smell the desperation coming off you in waves, the need for intimacy, the need for him to darken your doorstep. he could almost smell something else.

simon lowered his face to that juncture of skin between your jaw and collarbone, nosing at it gently. “missed ya too, dove.” you hummed as he nosed further, like some battered K9 who never retired, practically foaming at the mouth. he slipped his gloves into his back pockets, silent as a ghost. “‘aven’t gone on any dates, hav’ ya?” you shook your head vehemently, almost knocking into his own with the force of your eagerness. “thas’ a good girl." he rewarded you with skin on skin contact, calloused hands brushing up and down your jaw. you practically moaned at the contact, your body sorely missing the touch of a man. he maneuvered you back to the couch, laying you down with controlled restraint.

“y’ve been lonely.” you opened your mouth to answer but he cut you off, one large paw covering the bottom half of your face. simon tutted, practically clicking his tongue like a scolding teacher. “wasn’t a question.” words escaped you, jaw opening and shutting with no sound. you settled for a nod, pretending you had some semblance of control over simon’s actions. his gaze trailed down your body, eyes stopping for a second at your heaving chest, noting the pebbled nipples behind your sleep shirt. you moved to take it off, hands shaking, but that same hand shot from your mouth to your hand, gripping it hard. “not tonight.” your brows knitted together. did he not do foreplay? you had been without sex for far too long to entertain that idea. just as you were about to voice this particular concern, he squeezed your wrist hard, resisting from twisting the delicate bones beneath him. “shut it. stop askin’ shit. y’re not in charge ‘ere.”

“now this.” his hands moved to toy with the hem of your pajama shorts. “can smell ‘er loud and clear.” he brushed a hand over your lower stomach, pressing into your flesh with a groan. you let out a small moan, practically a mewl, as the heat of his touch battled the simmering cramps you’d had all day. “simon.” you bit back a gasp. “simon, it hurts.” so frail under him, practically begging for ghost to come home and take care of you. he shushed you with a kiss to your stomach, lips brushing the fabric of your pajamas. he tore off your shorts with practiced restraint, the hands of a trained killer dragging down each inch like each one was its own mission. each glimpse of your segment of skin was the target, weapons trained on the underwear it revealed to him. ghost let out a groan, the sound rumbling through him to you, his body practically molded to yours. his thumbs found your hipbones, small circles repeating their path.

“simon, you’ll mess up the couch.” he grunted. “need a bigger one, anyway. shut y’r pretty trap, dove.” you followed orders immediately. he dove in nose-first to the seam of your underwear, trailing down slowly. “‘s sweet.” all saccharine under him, the beast within beating at his ribcage, screaming to be let out. ghost was a shark in the water, dangerous at the first smell of blood. the need to claim, to conquer, make use of the fertile body under him. to eat. to feast.

in one fell swoop he was tugging down your underwear, yanking off the offending piece of fabric and flinging it to the floor. you hissed as your skin met the cool air, unused to being so exposed in your vulnerable state. “there she is. come ‘ere.” there was no experimental lick, no hesitation at the sight of blood. ghost went from one battlefield to another, preferring bloodshed over the silence of domesticity.

he started at your outer lips, practically cleaning you up, movements made for his taste and not your pleasure. blood coated his tongue, mixed with your seeping wetness. one final lick and he moved to your hole, winking at him, welcoming him home. his hands pressed your back upwards, crooked nose set against your clit. “bloody perfect.” he chuckled at his own joke, chuckled at how your body was already shaking under him. he tongue-fucked you expertly, sloppily eating you up. the blood mixed with cum made a pretty pink on his pale skin, fingers digging into your back as he pulled you impossibly closer. the tension in your core was getting harder to ignore with every lick, every time he said here she is and some welcome home, dove. he moved the bottom of his palm to press down on your clit, rubbing his nose in it, and you were coming, core clenching around nothing as your body emitted the loudest sounds. “ther we go, com’ on.” whispers of encouragement to your cunt, thick fingers joining in to coax another orgasm. one turned into two, your slippery pussy welcoming him in desperately. all whiny under his touch, squirming as he banded the other arm to hold down your stomach.

“nowhere ta fly, dove.” that didn’t stop you from trying, hips bucking into the air as he added a third finger. you were unbelievably full, stretched out like his personal fucktoy. he changed the angle, reaching deeper with calm strokes as he found the spot to make you crazy, gummy walls touching his rough calluses. he beckoned inside you, like he was telling you to come here, and you did, cunt clamping around his fingers.

“simon, simon it’s too much i-“ he shook his head, making that beckoning motion again. you spasmed even more, months of tension releasing under him. “there we go, she jus’ needed sum attention, yeah? not working with your own fingers, hm?” you nodded your head, agreeing with him passionately. “gonna split ya with my cock soon, see ya all fucked out.” your lips formed a small “o”, the crassness leaving his mouth like it needed to be washed with soap. “‘s get you to a shower, dove. go’on.” you scrambled out of his arms, clothes forgotten on the floor as you flew for the safety of your bathroom. he knew his dove too well, knew you needed some option to fly away and recoup before going farther. he’d spent all of deployment thinking about you, tugging his cock in shared showers and metal-framed cots. simon cleaned off his fingers one by one, savoring the metallic taste as he fixed the mess you made. he’d order a new couch tomorrow, something that could fit more than two, five being ideal. he’d fuck you on his cock tomorrow, once you’d knocked all of those thoughts around your head enough to pass out in his arms. but for now, he’d settle for the pink stain on his chin and your taste on his lips.

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → boobs?

Summary → Peter's obsessed with your boobs.

You’re stretched out on the couch, trying to relax after a long day. You’ve got a blanket draped over your legs, a random TV show playing in the background, and Peter lying right next to you—well, sort of on top of you. His head is resting on your chest, arms wrapped loosely around your waist as he lets out a content sigh.

"Y’know," you say, running your fingers through his curly hair, "you’ve got a perfectly good pillow right over there."

Peter snuggles closer, nuzzling his face against your chest. "Nah," he murmurs, his voice muffled. "This is way better."

You laugh softly, used to his antics by now. "You say that every time."

He shifts slightly, his head moving so he’s looking up at you with those big brown eyes. "Can you blame me? They’re perfect." His hands slide up from your waist, and before you can even protest, he’s already giving your boobs a squeeze.

"Peter!" You squeak, half laughing, half exasperated.

He grins up at you, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "What? You know it helps me destress. It's like... stress balls, but better." He squeezes again for emphasis, and you swat at his hands.

"You're ridiculous," you mutter, though you’re smiling.

"You love me," he says, smug, resting his head back down on your chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He lets out another sigh, his entire body relaxing against you.

"I do," you admit, your fingers tangling in his hair again. "But you’re still ridiculous."

Peter hums in agreement, his eyes fluttering shut. "Ridiculously in love with you," he adds, voice soft and drowsy.

You chuckle, feeling your heart warm at his words. "You’re such a dork."

"Mm-hmm." He doesn’t argue. He’s clearly content, his breathing starting to slow, and you realize with a smile that he’s on the verge of falling asleep. Again.

You shift slightly under him, trying to get more comfortable, but it’s hard when Peter’s basically draped across your chest like a sleepy kitten. "Pete, you’re heavy."

"Not movin'," he mumbles, holding onto you tighter. His voice is slurred with sleep now. "Too comfy…"

You roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see it. "You’re going to make me sore," you say, though there’s no real annoyance in your tone.

"I’ll give you a massage later," he promises, already half asleep.

"You said that last time," you remind him.

"And I meant it," he argues, though the words are barely audible. He’s drifting off now, his head still comfortably nestled on your chest.

You sigh, giving up. You know he’s not moving anytime soon. Instead, you let your hand rest gently on the back of his head, continuing to stroke his curls. He makes a soft noise of contentment, and your heart swells with affection.

For a few minutes, you just lie there in silence, the only sound in the room coming from the TV and Peter’s soft, steady breathing. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours, the warmth of his body pressing into you.

Just when you think he’s fully asleep, Peter stirs again. "Babe?" His voice is quiet, almost unsure.

"Hm?"

"You… don’t mind, do you?" He opens his eyes just a little, looking up at you. "Me doing this? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable."

You look down at him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. "Of course I don’t mind, Peter," you say softly. "If I did, I’d tell you."

"Okay," he mumbles, closing his eyes again. "Just wanted to make sure."

You smile at him, your heart melting all over again. Peter could be such a goof sometimes—like now, lying on top of you like he owned the place—but he always made sure you were comfortable. That’s just the kind of guy he was. Sweet, considerate, and so hopelessly in love with you.

After a few more minutes, you feel him shift again, his hand lazily resting on your boob. He’s not squeezing this time, just resting his hand there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"You really love my boobs, don’t you?" You tease, raising an eyebrow.

He lets out a sleepy chuckle. "Can you blame me?" He mumbles. "They're perfect. Soft. Warm. Everything I need after a long day."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You’re obsessed."

"Obsessed with you," he corrects, cracking one eye open to give you a sleepy, lopsided grin.

"Nice save," you say, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

Peter hums in contentment, snuggling even closer, if that’s even possible. His hand absentmindedly moves in gentle circles, and you feel yourself relax further into the couch. Despite how ridiculous the situation is, there’s something incredibly comforting about having Peter this close, feeling his warmth against you.

"I could stay like this forever," he murmurs after a while.

"Forever?"

"Yeah," he says, voice soft. "Just me, you, and your boobs. Perfect life."

You can’t help but laugh at that. "You’re such a boob guy."

"Ah hu," he says, lifting his head just enough to plant a kiss on your collarbone. "And you love me."

"I do," you admit again, smiling down at him.

"And I love you," he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

He presses another soft kiss to your skin before resting his head back down on your chest, completely at peace. You watch him for a moment, your heart swelling with affection for the boy currently using you as his personal pillow. You could tease him all you wanted, but the truth was, you didn’t mind. You loved these moments with him—sweet, silly, and full of love.

"Goodnight, Pete," you whisper, though you know he’s not fully asleep yet.

"Night," he mumbles in return, already half lost to his dreams.

And with that, he’s out, his breathing slow and steady against you. You smile, brushing a hand through his curls one last time before closing your eyes, letting the warmth of the moment lull you into a peaceful sleep beside him.

In the end of the day, Peter’s adorable obsession is nothing more than an extension of his love for you—a love that’s tender, goofy, and full of affection. Even in his most ridiculous moments, it’s clear that Peter cherishes you completely.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[cyberrose2001]

Under Pressure

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

GRAHH SURPRISE!!!!

Relic and I have been... discussing... very hard about an ask they got a couple days ago so I wrote this eheh (THANK YOU FOR DISCUSSING THIS WITH ME AND LETTING ME WRITE THIS ILY)

Also please yell at me if I forgot any warnings!

Loosely based of this ask over on @callsign-relic's blog

Warnings: Human reader, Giant/Tiny, Dub-Con(?), Nocturnal emission, Crack fic(?)

Word count: 1,887

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Rodimus denies it every time, but he's a heavy sleeper. He snores like a congested rhino; he constantly sets twelve alarms that only barely stir him from his slumber. Despite being captain of the ship, his sleep schedule is far from tip-top shape.

And no, you're not a stalker. You're just Rodimus' observant little 'pet' human, always there, with a California king on his bedside dresser. Yeah, you're treated like royalty by an incredibly hard-to-deny hot alien robot.

So, as the ship ventured further into deep space and the nights got colder, you whined and begged to stay with him.

Rodimus was very hesitant to let you join him in the berth. As much as he cared about you and would kill an army for you, he didn't want to accidentally kill you, which was very much a possibility in any scenario on this ship. But he caved. You had mastered the sad, wet cat look, and Rodimus had the willpower of a rock.

Relishing in victory, you're curled up comfortably against Rodimus' lower plating for the third consecutive night in a row, warmed by the large servo of a sleeping giant. The entire palm of his hand covers your back in subconscious protection, and every so often, you feel a twitch of one digit. It's tranquility and a rare comfort, the touch of another you haven't felt since being on earth.

Until he rolls over.

Rodimus, choking on his snores, flips over onto his stomach and nearly tosses you off the berth if not for the grip he has on you. Despite almost winding you and making an audible 'Oof' sound, he doesn't wake up, his unconscious body assuming another comfortable position.

It takes you a few moments to register what the fuck just happened, but you realise that you're now underneath Rodimus. Almost his entire body weight is now pressed against you and pins you to the berth.

Oh god, you think to yourself.

This is less than ideal; this was not supposed to happen. How the hell are you, a tiny ass human, supposed to get out from under him? You probably shouldn't even be alive right now with how restricted your breathing is, not to mention how hard he flopped on top of you. But thankfully, with how Rodimus' legs have fallen into position, it leaves you with just enough room for your chest to rise and fall.

"God." You whine, muffled as your cheeks squish against his abdominal plating.

Your mind runs wild as you try to think of a way out. Maybe he'll just roll over again soon? God, you hope so; you can handle only so much weight, and Rodimus feels like he could hold down a cargo ship. Probably because he can.

But until then, however long that may be, you need to try something at least.

"Rodimus?" You try to wiggle but to no avail. He has you pinned pinned, and you use what little breath you have to yell out to him, "Hello? Are you awake or what?"

A loud, seemingly exaggerated snore replies to you. He's still deep in recharge, ruining any chance you have of waking him up yourself. You try to use your nails to scratch the surface of his frame, hoping it would tickle him or something, but that doesn't work either.

"Great." You roll your eyes, only you would ever end up in this type of situation. If only you had listened to Rodimus when he first said no, then you wouldn't be currently experiencing a near death experi-

"Y/n..." Rodimus' hoarse voice crackles above you, sending vibrations through your bones.

"Oh, thank god," You sigh in relief. You attempt to wiggle around some more, hoping to get his attention this time, "Listen, can you get off me now? This kinda hur-"

You squeak softly in pain as his sharp pelvis presses against you, and you hear your name again. This time, though, the tone of his voice came out as a whine, like a soft plea.

Because of where you were positioned before you became a pea under a princess' tower of mattresses, Rodimus' lower panels rested right against your stomach. This means you can feel his panels start to bulge slightly.

Oh no, you think to yourself bleakly once again. You're not sure how similar Cybertronian anatomy is to humans, apart from a crude explanation by an engex drunk Swerve. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're feeling him getting hard. Putting two-and-two together using two out of the five senses, you've realised that Rodimus is nearly boner deep in a wet dream.

And not to assume, but you're thinking that the star of the show is you.

It's also the wrong time to cackle to yourself about getting crushed by your crush.

You might have some issues to work out after with Rung.

"Oh fuck," You reasonably panic, trying to push against his heavy frame weakly with your pinned arms, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

You start to thrash against Rodimus when your arms fail, your tiny body rubbing up against him. This doesn't help at all, you've come to realise but actually digs you in a deeper hole as he begins to rock his pelvis into you.

Rodimus moans your name again as he sleepily grinds against you. Whatever he's dreaming of, it must be an insanely hot pornographic fantasy of you. The bulge grows bigger, pining you down further into the berth. He shutters and lets out a soft groan before his plating shifts, and you feel a very thick, very hard, and very hot object slide up against you.

Oh god, it's his dick.

Swerve might not have told you all the details, but he seemed to conveniently leave out how fucking huge Cybertronian cocks are.

As if you thought this couldn't get any more debilitating, you now have the head of Rodimus' spike pressing against your face. It's as if the Alaskan bull worm had slithered up between yourself and Rodimus to give you a kiss. The behemoth of baggage has already started leaking what you would believe would be the Cybertronian equivalent to pre-cum, smearing all across your face.

At this significant turn of events, you've realised you have come to a crossroads.

Either struggle and continue to wiggle and wrangle your way out from under him, but risk pleasuring him, whether or not he could feel you squirming against him anyway with how small you are compared to it. Or, the more realistic and obtainable outcome, lie still and take it until he wakes up from an orgasm.

Who are you kidding? You don't have much of a choice at all. Both options risk you drowning in alien robot cum. It's wishful thinking as Rodimus starts to rut against your entire body again.

"Y/n..." He whimpers again, though very garbled and unintelligible. Every roll of his hips causes more pre-cum to dribble against your face and down your chest, and with each, it spreads all around in between yourself and his train-sized spike. Making an absolute mess of you.

If you weren't getting humped up against right now, you would indeed find a way to kill him for ruining your only set of pajamas.

"Rodimus-" You gag as a spurt of pre-cum falls into your mouth, "Guh- Rodimus stop-"

His work of venting increases, and so does his rutting. The comatose mech gasps and hitches his breath, oblivious to your cries and pleas for him to stop. He pushes up against you in heated desperation, fucking into your soft body like a grind pad.

"Rodimus! Wake the fuck up!" You start to heat up yourself; the increased pressure and friction of his plating will give you a fucked up version of carpet burn if he doesn't wake up. Sweat drips from your skin, adding even more lubricant to his incessant grinding.

"Wha- Oh, Primus!" Rodimus rears his drool-covered helm and cries out in equal confusion and unrestrained pleasure. He's woken up by his overload as he shoots his load up against you, flooding the minimal empty space left between you both with hot transfluid.

"Oh god-" You couldn't close your mouth in time when a spurt of transfluid hit you in the face, causing you to cough and spit it back out, only for more to splat you in the face.

Rodimus moans tiredly, shuttering violently as his spike pulses and leaks the remainder of his overload against the berth.

Or what he thought was the berth. Since when did he use a self-service mod on his spike? Especially when he shares a room with-

"Hey!" Cough, "Are you done?"

His optics slam open in horrific realisation.

"Oh no," Rodimus rolls over onto his back, his softened wet spike flopping against his abdominal plating, "Oh no, no, no..."

He looks down where he once lay, and his face plates flush a bright blue. Laying in a puddle of his transfluids was you, his little human, sopping wet with a highly unimpressed look on your tiny face.

"Oh Primus, Y/n," Rodimus scoops you up in his servos, gently tossing you from hand to hand as he wrings them off his transfluids, "I am so sorry, I- frag what was I thinking!" Rodimus babbles and holds you to his face, "Are you okay? God, I'm so stupid-"

"Ughh," You lay limply in his palm, exhausted and out of breath, "After that... I don't know anymore."

Rodimus hides his blush with a servo before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm glad you're okay, but what were you doing down there?"

"Great question," You lift your head up to deadpan him, then eventually drag yourself to sit up. Sticky, pink transfluid drips down your body. Your face, and hair, are all drenched in him, "It's not like you rolled over in your sleep and had me pinned for nearly half an hour. What the hell?"

Rodimus blinks, and his face turns a deeper shade of blue as he rubs the back of his neck, "Oh, so that's why I had that dream about you..."

Is he serious right now?

"Oh, you think?" You wipe your lip when it starts to drip into your mouth, "I think I could tell when you started moaning my name in your sleep."

"Well, you're just so tiny and soft and-" The red and yellow mech bites the knuckles of the servo not holding you in embarrassment. "But what was I supposed to do, huh? Hold it in?"

God, he is.

"I'm literally gonna kill you, Rodimus." You shiver, his transfluids cooling against your skin. You can't believe he dares to look you in the eye, "I am never begging to nap with you ever again, or maybe at least warn me next time."

"No offense taken," Rodimus nods in agreement for once, watching you wring your hair out, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I really am. I can help clean you up? As a sincere apology from yours truly?"

"As long as I don't come into contact with more of this stuff," You flick a bead of transfluid off your finger into his direction, "And you better be sorry, or it'll be a long time before I might actually let you fuck me."

"Wait, you'll what-" Splat, "EWUGH!!"

[charliemwrites]

Woof woof grrrrrr

Content: Dub-Con, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (reader giving)

The bar is exactly as busy as you’re hoping for when you get there. Quiet and intimate, low lights, a hum of conversation but not overwhelmingly loud. The bar is mostly full but not crowded. As luck would have it, you instantly spot a couple empty stools towards the back.

You glide across the establishment, head held high and shoulders back. Pick a seat and smooth your skirt under you to perch. The bartender comes to you instantly; you pick something sweet and fruity (delighted that it’ll match your outfit.)

It takes up until they slide it across to you — a tab opened with your card — that the insecurity starts to set in. What if no one is interested? What if Soap doesn’t show up?

You sip at your drink and pull out your phone, reading your latest book. If nothing else… at least you’re getting out? God.

“This isn’t your usual scene.”

Oh. Oh this is worse than being ignored all night and going home alone. So much worse. Just barely manage not to curse aloud as you turn to your ex.

“Justin…” you start, realize you don’t know where to go from there. “Hi.”

“It’s been a minute, huh?”

You look him up and down. Designer everything, of course, brands printed all over him. No taste, though, none of it is cohesive. You wouldn’t be caught dead at his side ever again.

“How’s your arm?”

His expression flickers, hand unconsciously going to the spot where Johnny tried to tear it off.

“Fine. Thanks.” He gives you a long look. Unfriendly. “You know people have had dogs put down for less.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, fear and anger twisting up in your stomach like hot lava. How dare he threaten your boy like that?! Wish Johnny was here now to take another chunk out of him.

“Not when people trespass on private property,” you reply coldly, eyes narrowing.

He puts his hands up, laughing awkwardly. “Well, now. I wouldn’t call it — let’s just say we’re even, yeah?”

“For that at least.”

You take another big sip of your drink. Find it empty. Make hopeful eye contact with the bartender and nod for another when they gesture questioningly. There’s a reason you love this bar.

“Right… listen, about that, luv…”

“There you are, bonnie!”

You perk up despite yourself. Says something that the creep who sexually harasses you in public is better company than your ex-fiancé. Something zings through you when you realize Soap is bigger than your Justin (hopefully in every aspect). Taller, wider, more muscular. Better jawline and prettier eyes, too.

“Tucked up back here like this,” Soap mock scolds, shouldering past Justin. You let out a little squeak as he scoops you off your barstool, hand just under your ass for a hold. “Almost didn’t see you, hen.”

“H-Hi,” you say, arms going around his neck automatically. He presses his nose to your collarbone and audibly inhales. You shiver.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he continues, voice dropping lower.

He sets you down on your stool again with a wink, then takes the stool next to yours.

“Oi, do you mind?” Justin snaps, bumped out of the way by Soap’s bulk.

“I do, actually.” The look Soap levels him is sharp, cold. Bloody killer. Instantly reminds you of all the alarm bells that normally play in your head when he’s around. “Don’t like puffed up knobs like you around my girl.”

You bite your tongue on a protest that you’re not his girl. Wouldn’t be particularly helpful right about now. You’ll correct him later.

“Your girl,” Justin scoffs. “She was mine before she was ever — hey!”

Soap’s got his fist in the front of Justin’s shirt, jerking him nearly off his feet. A few heads turn. You feel hot with embarrassment, skin prickling at so many eyes on your little trio of stupidity.

“Woah!” You yelp. “Soap!”

You grab his forearm (remind yourself not to get distracted by the muscles cording it) and lean into his line of sight. The near-murderous glint in his blue eyes softens, though there’s still an unnatural sheen to them. Something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand on end.

“Soap, let him go,” you say, quiet. “I like this bar, don’t get us kicked out… please?”

He hums, instantly drops Justin to cup his hand around the back of your neck, fingers edging into your hair. His palm feels so big and harm, a little rough with callouses. You try not to think about how easy it would be for him to manipulate your head however he wants…

“Like when you say ‘please,’ hen,” Soap purrs.

You swallow, feel your cheeks flushing as you say, “Then… you should sit down and have a drink with me. Please?”

He grins, crooked and a little mean. “Anythin’ fer you.”

He drops into his stool again like a king on his throne. You perch gingerly on your own, waving Justin away like an annoying fly. Don’t even look as he slinks off, too busy staring at Soap. Who’s… busy staring at you. As always.

“You never called,” he drawls after ordering. Whiskey, neat. The bartender sets your new drink in front of you; you start sipping to gather your thoughts and nerve. “Lucky I happened to stop in here, eh? Imagine if I’d walked past…”

You grimace a bit. A fantastic bit of luck, that. Thought you’re still not sure what type of luck.

Definitely not going to admit to him that you didn’t call on purpose, wanting plausible deniability if you did see him. As if trying to get him under your skirt by happenstance is better than calling him to do it.

“Why did you stop in here?” You ask, looking to change the subject.

“Could smell you,” he answers, eyes twinkling.

You wrinkle your nose, kick at his shin. Want to blame it on the alcohol, but you drink red wine most nights of the week. This is just… placebo and desperation.

“You’re so nasty, you know that?” You huff.

He arches his eyebrows, grins wolfishly. “Could show you how nasty I can be,” he offers.

You wrinkle your nose even as your cheeks burn. That’s exactly what you’re hoping for.

“You can’t keep talking to me like that,” you complain.

He snorts in amusement, hooking his fingers beneath your stool and tugging you closer. Until your knees are between both of his, jeans brushing against your thighs.

“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” he murmurs, low and private. “I think you like when I talk to you like that.”

You swallow audibly, hands dropping down to twist nervously in your lap.

“I think it makes your pretty pussy all wet and swollen when I get all mean like this,” he continues. You shake your head; his palm clamps down on your thigh beneath your skirt, thumb sweeping back and forth over the sensitive skin. “Think she’s fuckin’ aching fer me to make good on all my promises. And you can get all shy and sweet here, but I bet all your cunt wants is to be mounted and bred like a bitch in heat.”

And he’s right. Of course he’s fucking right. That goddamn bad guy fantasy and your shallow, needy pussy, and Soap’s stupid fucking everything.

You feel like you’re about to explode when the bartender sets his whiskey down, snapping the tension like a rubber band. Feel dizzy as you lean away, sipping desperately at your own drink in an attempt to cool off. He gives you all over maybe fifteen second before opening that sinful mouth again.

“So how about it, bonnie? Did I hit the mark?”

You feel frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. Blink and look away at your nervous hands.

“I-I don’t even know you,” you mutter. “You could be dangerous.”

“I am dangerous, baby,” he replies, “just not to you.”

You shake your head. “You’re awful.”

“Mm and you want me to do awful things to you.”

You sigh through your nose, that little logical voice blaring again. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to use you.

(Would that be so bad, if you go in knowing it?)

A tug at your necklace startles you out of your thoughts, his finger hooked beneath the pendant. You lean in with a noise of protest, afraid he’s going to break it. Gasp as your lips brush his.

“Whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head, let me fuck it out of you.”

You shudder, hand balanced on his thick, muscular thigh. Can feel a twitch near your thumb. Holy shit.

“I’ll be so good to you, princess,” he promises. “Let me be good to you.”

You suck in a breath. Now or never.

Well, if nothing else, maybe you’ll let Johnny eat him if he’s turns out to be a bastard.

“Prove it,” you breathe.

He guides your chin up, eyes blazing with hunger.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You blink, muster up your courage. “You heard me. Or are you back out?”

His expression goes deliciously dark. “Oh, I’ll prove it, lass. You just sit right here and I’ll get us sorted.”

His fingers slip just that last little bit up and start teasing at the lace of your panties. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to sip at your cocktail while he flags down the bartender. His nails scrape lightly across the fabric over your clit as gets your card and throws down enough cash to cover all three drinks.

When he pulls his hand away, you have to bite back a whimper.

“If you don’t get up right now, I’m haulin’ you out of here over my shoulder,” he growls in your ear.

You’re up in an instant, smoothing down your skirt. His hand stays glued to your lower back as he ushers you out to the lot. Sits you down in the passenger seat of a black pickup, barely waits for you to buckle yourself in before peeling out of the lot.

You’re about to tell him your address when you hear the clink of a belt, a zipper. Eyes wide as they drop to his pants, to him fishing a huge, hard cock out of jeans.

“C’mere,” he near snarls.

“Soap, that’s not— mph!”

The head of his cock catches on your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on, hips twitching.

“Gonna ruin that pretty makeup, your pretty hair. Gettin’ all dolled up like that for any fucking wanker to see.”

He twists his fingers in your hair and presses you down, your cheek rubbing against the shaft. He feels huge and unnaturally hot. You press your thighs together as you imagine how it’s going to feel inside of you.

“This isn’t safe,” you complain, mouth open as you gasp against the flushed skin.

He curses, tugs you up so that your lips press against the head, already dripping. Your eyes widen in the darkness, shocked and flattered that you’ve already worked him up this much.

“Not gonnae let anything happen,” he promises, “but you need to convince me not to spank this pretty ass black and blue.”

You squeal as he releases you hair just to deliver a harsh smack to one ass cheek, the sting making you clench up.

“H-hey!”

“You want me to slap that pretty pussy too? Bet I could make you cum just tapping that little clit over and over again. That what you want, slag?”

“N-no!”

“Then show me.”

You seal your mouth around the head, sucking and licking at the precum beading at the tip. Try to brace yourself, nearly gag as he hits a pothole and shoves into your throat. It’s noisy and messy, eyes watering from how thick and deep he is already, not letting you up for more than brief gasps of air.

“Fuck, that’s it baby. Work your tongue just like that…” he groans.

You lose track of everything but trying not to gag, his threat lingering with each obscene slurp and twist of your tongue. He tastes better than you expected, and the scent of him surrounds you. Musk and pine, something familiar that niggles at your cock-drunk brain. Can’t be bothered to work it out though, not when he’s tugging your hair. Not when he comes to an abrupt stop and you deepthroat him.

He yanks you off with a near-animal growl. You whine, scrambling to brace yourself and panting. Your head feels foggy. Know your panties are soaked through; shocked you’re not dripping down your leg. If you were sitting properly, you’d probably leave a wet mark on the seat.

You moan as his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sweeping inside like he owns it. He licks the taste of himself off your tongue, hands fumbling your seatbelt off, dragging you over the center console to straddle his lap.

You gasp at the sight of his rock hard, angry cock next to your pretty dress, pressed up against your stomach. Show just how deep he’ll be inside your guts.

“Fuck, look’it that,” he groans rutting against your stomach. “Oh you were made to be mine.”

You scream as he scoops you up, stepping out of the truck with you over his shoulder.

“Soap!” You shout. “Soap, put me down, my dog—”

“I’m your fuckin’ dog,” he replies.

“No, seriously, he’s protective—”

He grabs the spare out of its hiding place and shoves the door open. You brace for angry barking and growls, but hear nothing. Soap doesn’t even pause. He just kicks the door shut and storms down the hall to your room, like he knows exactly where he’s going.

He drops you onto the bed, watches your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress. He strips off int he blink of any eyes while you’re still catching your breath.

“W-wait, wait, my—”

He flips you onto your stomach, hikes your ass up high in the air. You squirm, try to crawl away, but he slaps your ass so hard you see stars. He places his palm flat between your shoulder blades to bin you still.

“S-Soap,” you whine as he shoves your skirt up over your ass, palms a cheek. Spreads you open just to let the flesh jiggle back into place.

“Fuck,” he growls. It sounds off. Sounds deeper, rougher now.

“Just-just slow down…!”

He yanks your panties aside, plunges two thick fingers into you. You squeal, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress.

“Oh, you’re plenty ready,” he says, dark, almost to himself. “All ready to be mated and bred. All mine.”

That finally starts to break the lust-drunk haze. Open your mouth to tell him absolutely not, it’s been way to long and your need to be stretched—

He forces his entire cock into you with one brutal thrust. You scream, cry, try to flatten yourself against the bed but he won’t even let you do that, muttering about “presenting” properly. It hurts but it feels good, know that’s it’s just too much.

“Soap,” you sob, “y-you can’t— you have to… I’m-I’m gonna break.”

“Shhhh, no you’re not,” he soothes, grinding a bit deeper. Your eyes roll back, keening through your teeth. “You were made for me. You’re all for me.”

You shake your head, but he just chuckles.

“Yes, baby, yes. You let me in, you kept me. Now we belong to each other.”

“Soap, w-what are you talking about…?” you manage, fists tight in the sheets. He draws back once and slams into you, hard, mean.

Leans down so he’s rumbling directly in your ear.“‘S Johnny, hen.”

You blink, confused and overwhelmed. “W-what… n-no. No, Johnny is my….”

“Woof.”

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Masterlist

[plasticferal]

can u plsss write a Matt smut where the reader is like obsessed with his teeth and then she kind of jokes ab licking his teeth but shes not actually joking and then u know the rest

take it or leave it | matt sturniolo.

authors note: this was so fun to write. here’s some kind of soft, lust filled bff!matt turned lovers.

warnings: fem reader, not obscene or 18+ but read at your own discretion. a lot of dialogue, light biting, mark leaving, explicit language.

you just can't stop staring at your best friend. all he's doing is chewing on a paper straw, swirling it around his soft drink. his eyes are glued to his screen, scrolling through his phone, both of his elbows planted on the dining table.

"i can feel you staring," matt talks with the straw still in his mouth, flashing his perfect teeth with a conceited smirk. you scoff, digging your fork back into the dessert that sits in front of you, to avoid the interrogation you feel coming your way.

"i didn't say stop," you feel his eyes burn holes into you, tone earnest and deep, just waiting for you to glance up at him again.

"wasn't even staring," you speak through a muffled mouthful of cake, not caring if he sees the food in your mouth. he's the closest person in your life, he's probably seen worse.

"real sexy, kid" he teases, staring at your mouth and chuckling as you cover it to swallow your food, flipping him off from across the table.

"no for real, what were you looking at? like be specific," he asks, placing his phone screen down on the table, shuffling in his chair and adjusting his posture. you raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he's on about.

"i can't just admire my best friend?" you sarcastically smile and bat your eyelashes at him, resting your chin into the palm of your hands.

"specifics, go." matt isn't having it, and you drop the act fast.

you ponder on your answer for a moment, or at least pretend to. you know exactly what you want to say but you don't need him getting a big head. well, bigger. he's a walking, talking, humble brag. especially around you.

"ah, okaaaay," you pout your lips with contemplation.

"your eyes i guess. they're pretty. you know that, though" you shrug, prodding at your dessert again, not having any intention on finishing it at this point. matt has you cornered with his new train of thought.

"boring, next." he deadpans, throwing his head back with an eye roll before looking at you again. he folds his arms over his chest, leaning back leisurely.

"fine. ah, your teeth. i'm like obsessed with them. is that a better answer?" you quip, grabbing your plate and pushing away from the table to make your way to the sink.

you hear matt behind you let out an audible "huh?" and can picture the confusion on his face. you don't know what it is about his teeth, or his smile in general. you just get stunned at how perfect they are, the way they just suit his face so much.

they just look like they could form the perfect bite in your skin. he's always chewing a new flavoured gum, flashing them subtly past his perfectly pink lips, and his breath always smells nice. it's weirdly inviting. all thoughts you absolutely shouldn't be having about matthew.

"hang on, rewind. my teeth?" there's an amused underlining to his response, and you just wish you could take back what you said, joke or not.

you rinse the plate off and immediately ignore him, drying your hands with paper towel before bee-lining for the bin in the small dark corner of the room.

"you got your answer, matthew. get over it," you exhale, tossing it into the black rubbish bag.

"no no, i'm not done with you yet," you hear his chair make a disturbing scratchy squeak against the vinyl floors with how fast he pushes his chair back, following where your body is moving.

you walk around the dining table in the opposite direction of him, but he changes directions to match yours. you collapse onto the couch, sitting cross legged and he falls into the spot right next to you, despite having the entire couch. your shoulders are touching and his knee his touching yours.

"you were staring at my teeth and now i need to know why," matt requests, leaning one elbow up on the back of the couch, facing you completely.

"i can't answer tha-"

"y/n" he cuts you off seriously.

"i don't know, okay? drop it, matthew." you push back with frustration, not understanding why he can't. it's either he's pushing your buttons on purpose or he can sense the subject easily taking a turn in a different direction.

"i'm not trying to piss you off. i just wanted know. sorry" his voice softens, and he shifts so he's facing the t.v.

you almost feel bad snapping at him, considering you instigated his reaction in the first place by not justifying it straight away.

you bite your nails, trying to avoid talking. it's so hard with matt. he just always brings it out of you. looking at him while he watches the screen ahead of you just makes you yearn to hear his voice again. he's so quiet for the most part that when you get him out of his shell you don't ever want him to stop.

"i've always liked your teeth. i don't know what it is. i wish i could explain it but i can't," you speak shyly, a very rare feeling around him.

you have literally shared every waking thought with this man. it just feels so different when it involves him personally. on a physical descriptive level. matt leans his head back on the massive couch cushion, giving you a lazy half grin, looking up at you through hooded eyes.

"do you just like staring at them or do you wanna like, touch them?" he flashes his teeth like a vampire, and you push his face away with a laugh, knowing he's teasing with good intention. he chuckles, pushing your own hand back into your body.

"you're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

"not until i can wrap my head around it, no" he folds his arms over his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits and they disappear under his oversized hoodie, snickering at his own defence.

he looks you in the eyes, the same fiery stare he gives you when he's about to say something out of pocket, you can read him like a book.

"you wanna touch 'em?"

"matt," you scold, knowing whatever he has planned is just to keep this joke lingering. or what you think is a joke to him.

"i'm serious, let's see if we can get to the bottom of this little fetish of yours" he's so pleased with his words, grinning like an idiot as he nestles his face closer to yours.

"i'd get more pleasure out of it with my tongue," you chortle, then pause suddenly, not believing what you just said out loud.

you force your face to plaster a look on it that says 'i'm joking' but there's no part of what you just said that matt is taking comically.

"go on." matt replies.

"what's gotten into you, tonight?" you have a half simper half befuddled look as you lean back to make sure you're seeing him right.

making sure you're speaking to matt, not someone posing as him with how bold and absurd he's been acting for the past few minutes. he's always being flirtatious, in a bantering and unalloyed manner. this felt different, he's being a lot more direct. a lot less blithe.

"i am literally giving you one chance to do this and then i'm never bringing it up again. take it or leave it, y/n"

"open your mouth, then.” you say in a ‘i bet you won’t’ tone, not believing he actually will. you’re taken aback when he tilts his head up lightly, an innocent look on his face when he parts his mouth, creating a perfect oval.

“you’re seriously okay with this?” you ask, beginning to lean forward, tempting and just waiting for the moment he pulls away, or snaps his mouth closed. he nods, mouth still open.

you know him well enough by now to understand that when matt says he’ll never mention it again, he means it. he’s petty like that.

“fuck it, m’god” you mumble, cupping the side of his jaw, fingertips resting under his ear and being tickled by his hair, pulling him to you.

your breaths intertwine as you hover over his mouth, your lips don’t touch when you poke your tongue out and let it slide behind his top teeth and trail across the sharp edge, slowly, left to right. when you pull away, you observe him.

matt closes his mouth, sucking his teeth and plastering a thoughtful look on his face. you wait for his response.

“well?” you can only wait for so long before you’re trying to entice him to say something, anything.

he adjusts himself on the lounge, full body facing you at this point, if he was pushed up any closer he’d be on top of you.

“just like, out of curiosity. can you do it again?” he asks bashfully. he did say take it or leave it. so you take it, while he’s dangling it in front of you.

this time, you curve your hand gently around the back of his neck to guide his face. tilting your head slightly before pulling him in. you lick the back of the teeth again, even slower than the first time. you can feel matt holding his breath, and the taste of the root beer he just had still lingering.

matt takes a deep breath when you part from him again, flaring his nostrils slightly and sucking on the inside of his cheek. he looks confused, in a content way. but confused nonetheless.

you stare at him, memorising this look on his face. without breaking his stare with you, matt reaches for a pillow and throws it over his lower body, holding it in place. before he has a chance to set it onto his lap, you glance down to see the bulge forming under his black shorts.

“did you like my tongue in your mouth, matthew?” your words are jovial, but he turns away from you after you question him, looking quite literally anywhere else.

“no-i,i mean. fuck, i don't know. no." he rambles, response being faster than his brain can even register, not pulling out the best choice of words from his vocabulary.

“no? is that why you let me do it twice?” you tease, turning the table on him.

"you're right," he pauses.

"maybe we should make it three. for good luck." he looks back at you with a red hue on his cheeks, simpering smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he hugs the pillow on his lap.

"only if you ask nicely," you squint your eyes, and he rolls his.

"i'm not beggin' for it. no way." he shakes his head, boston accent coming through a lot thicker when he's defensive. it happens a lot, and that's how you know you have him cornered.

"your call, matty. take it or leave it." the front you're putting on for him is a fraud, having a gut feeling that it's the only cue he needs to surrender. he's silent for a solid minute.

"fuck, jesus, okay." he finishes, grabbing your face this time. he caresses your jaw, and his touch is so firm and so warm.

the pillow between your bodies is like a barrier, but he pushes up against it hard to bring you as close to his face as you can. you brace yourself for him to open his mouth again, but instead, your lips collide.

your eyes close instinctively and his soft, wet lips move with yours, taking your bottom lip between the kiss, and letting his tongue slide in and dance across your own. slowly he pulls away, fluttering inches over your mouth instead of distancing himself.

"i don't know, i don't know why i just-" matt is still touching your face through his panic-stricken words.

you don't even counter his sentence before grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him back to your mouth. you shove the pillow off the lounge in-between your bodies with your knee while shifting your body weight onto his lap, an easy transition considering how close you've been the whole time.

matt grabs your waist immediately, securing you on top of him and deepening the kiss. you feel your throat shake with his small, desirous moan into your mouth. you sink all of your body weight onto him and can feel his dick underneath you growing harder, heat radiating from between his legs.

the kiss becomes heavier, more desperate and messy, missing each others mouths and clashing your teeth, taking breaths for a split second before attacking each other's lips again. your nails dig into his shoulders and matt's hands lower, stationing on your upper thigh.

you're in such a state of disbelief but ignore every doubt or worry you're forcing yourself to have. you've mentally convinced yourself this is a dream. you're not actually grinding into your bestfriend's groin, making out with him and having his thumbs get closer and closer to your heat, feeling wet already at the friction.

matt kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek bone, the tip of your nose, then your jaw. he trails the kisses on your jaw lower and lower, grazing his teeth along your delicate skin until he reaches he crease of your neck just under your ear, and you lean into him as much as you possibly can.

"you like my teeth so much, wait until you see what they can do to your neck," he forces deeply against your skin, biting at your earlobe.

"god, matt," you exhale.

you feel a sharp, stinging suck to your neck, making you gasp. he pulls your skin into his mouth, tongue rubbing the area that he's suffocating in his bite. he pulls away, making a sharp sound when he lets go. he repeats the same thing just underneath his first bite, and your body is twisting and distorting in his arms. you tug at his hair with a warning.

"you’re gonna have to explain those marks." you tremble, yet not stopping him. he taunts a stifled laugh.

"don't care," he starts, pulling your shirt off your shoulder and sucking another deep purple mark on your collar bone.

"i'll spell my name out on your skin if i have to." it’s like he’s a trance, trailing his middle finger along the bites he just left before looking up at you with a dazed smile.

his chest is rising and falling prominently, both of you catching your breath after the intense session. matt gently presses his lips to yours again, and you lean your forehead against his. he grips at the bottom hem of your shirt, toying with the fabric.

"if i knew my teeth would get you on top of me, i would have let you lick em' sooner," he has a crooked, dopey grin on his face. you blush, flustered at his words.

"is this is insane? you don't think you're gonna regret it?" you're cautious with your words, voice gentle, head still leaning against his and your fingers playing with the hair creeping on the nape of his neck.

"i could never regret you." he shakes his head softly, making you smile and peck another gentle kiss on his lips. you know he means his words, and they make you want to melt into a puddle.

"smile for me quickly," you banter, holding onto his shoulders but pulling back to look at his face properly.

he covers his face with his big hands and you let out a hearty laugh, attempting to pry them off and begging him to stop hiding.

"matt! you'll let me shove my tongue down your throat but can't smile for me?" your stomach hurts with the laughter caused by the sheer fight he's putting up covering his face.

when you finally get him to drop his hands he has the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. smiling ear to ear, and eyes closed shut, putting on a show for you. he drops his face quickly once you've had your time to look, and has those signature tired and heavy eyes make an appearance once again.

you lean in, slowly, so slow. your face is drawing him in like a magnet, him following your moves to meet in the middle. he flashes his teeth once again, and you run the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip, feeling his teeth too, budging his mouth open.

"now you're just taking advantage of it," his raspy voice speaks, pulling you back to his mouth by your neck and leading with his tongue, letting it slide in and moaning into your parted lips. they finally sink into each others after teasing each other, seeing who falls into the kiss first.

your tongues fight for dominance and matt grabs the back of your neck hard, forcing you to stay where you are. you're tilting left and he's tilting right as you focus on breathing through your nose to stay attached to each other as long as you can.

you can literally feel matt take his time to explore your mouth, circling every inch he possibly can. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites hard, making you gasp before pulling back and letting go, both of your mouths wet and glistening with each others saliva.

matt wipes your mouth with his thumb, applying enough pressure but still being gentle. he's staring at your skin before his eyes fixate on those marks he left earlier.

"oh fuck, they're pretty bad" he giggles, and you roll off his lap with a groan, slapping your hand over your neck as if to hide them from him. your legs drape over his thighs and you can feel him looking at you.

you hide from him by sinking into the lounge for no good reason other than you think somehow it'll make the marks disappear, or manifest that it does.

"i didn't even bring makeup to cover it," you fake cry, seeing how bad it could make him feel, but he doesn't budge. matt slaps your thigh as if to say 'i'm not buying it' then rubs your legs soothingly.

"you're not covering them up. i won't let you leave the house if you do, no other option." matt is demanding but lighthearted in his words.

"oh no, i can't leave, what a shame," you dramatically flail your hand to your temple like an old school movie scene, and matt pokes your rib to get you to snap out of it.

"if you ever want to see my teeth again i'd watch the dramatics, honey" and those words coming from him alone make you cut the act, flushing red and sitting up properly.

you don't know how he's managed to whip you into line, usually being the other way around, but you're not risking it.

you've somehow taken more than you could ever ask for from him, and you're still anxious that you've bitten off more than you can chew. no pun intended.

regardless, you're in ignorant bliss. you'll take everything you can get from matt, and more, if he's willing to give it to you. which at this point, you're sure he is.