#they aren’t nips out I swear

[mushramoo]

lil self indulgent piece I did abt mental wellness, just what was on my mind

[beneathashadytree]

EATEN ALIVE - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : biting, Sylus likes feeling his lover’s weight, neck kisses, BDSM mention, implied scent kink, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : spicy fluff <3

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : This brainrot is a result of that one homescreen interaction where you give him his palm and he bites you, and that one bond story where he’s sitting on the couch reading at some point. The image drove me a lil crazy😵‍💫 Also this was inspired by the song Eaten Alive by Diana Ross 🙏🏽

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Masterlist

“Another book on firearms?” they asked, leaning over him to get a glance at what he was reading.

Sylus didn’t look up from the page, glasses perched on his nose and legs crossed underneath his silk robe in the picture perfect image of regal serenity. The only acknowledgment he gave them was a hum, before simply saying, “Not this time,” and returning to his quiet laser-focus.

Annoyance flashed behind their eyes at his complete ignoring of their presence in front of him. And to make matters worse (or in this case, simply more irritating), from their position they couldn’t even read a single sentence upside down. “Aren’t you gonna tell me, then?”

At that, a smirk touched his lips, knowing that he got the desired reaction from them. “You do know that curiosity killed the cat, right?” The look in his eyes was every bit as fierce as it was taunting. “You seem hell-bent on using up all your nine lives.”

Bastard. He loved to tease them relentlessly, didn’t he?

Snapping the book shut with one hand, he pushed it aside face-down. He was taking all the possible measures to make sure they wouldn’t be able to read the title, it seemed. Would a kick to his shins procure the answer they wanted?

Before they could think of another tactic, he clasped their hand in his, unceremoniously tugging them down onto his lap. Yelping as he caught them off-guard, they barely managed to balance themself over him, hovering a little as they tried not to crush him—something he must’ve noticed, given the way he arched his eyebrow at them.

“Put your whole weight on me. I like that.” Sylus’ grin was wicked as he said that, but it was all parts tempting, luring them in like it always did. Maybe it was a figment of their imagination, but they could’ve sworn that they saw his eyes gleam brighter as they settled down properly in his lap. “That’s it, sweetie,” he purred, his hands quick to seek purchase in the fat of their hips.

His touch leaving a burning ache in its wake, he gently caressed every inch of skin he could reach. The hem of their top raised, nimble fingers dancing over their back and trailing over paths he’d long-memorized, he looked like he was truly enjoying the way their breath hitched in their throat, and how they squirmed against him.

“You’re too much,” they managed to huff out, trying their best to school their expression to one of indignation. “Weren’t you… just acting like I was distracting you?”

“A welcome distraction, if anything.” His free hand came up to remove his glasses, a mischievous look in his eyes. “If you hadn’t come for me, I would’ve gone looking for you in a bit anyways.” As though swearing his honesty, he pulled them closer and began pressing open-mouthed kisses against their neck, softly sucking at the warm skin. With every nip of his teeth, he earned a hiss of pain-pleasure, and a jolt of their hips bringing them closer to his. “You taste divine,” he groaned into their neck. “Smell so good too.”

“Hey.” It was supposed to sound admonishing, but it came out as a half-moan, half-whisper. “Stop trying to keep me off-track.” But were their words convincing, when they were writhing in his lap just at his kisses like that? “You’re… hah… avoiding me.”

“‘M not.”

Another kiss, this time at the junction of their jaw and neck, earning a small cry of his name, and that snapped them out of whatever daze they’d been trapped in. With a push to his chest, they managed to pry him off and cover his sinful mouth with their hand, though it seemed that it only spurred on the desire brewing in his scarlet eyes.

“Answer my question.” Panting and their head swimming, it was a wonder they were able to say anything coherent at all. “What were you reading and so hell-bent on hiding?”

As Sylus chuckled into their palm, he merely reached out a finger to drag the book in, quickly flipping it back up.

‘Screw the Roses, Send Me Thorns.’

Oh.

Pure delight danced in his eyes as he relished in their expression as realization dawned on them. Taking advantage of that split-second of their shock, he caught their hand in his, and bit into it—lightly, but just enough to sting in that way he knew deep down they liked so much.

Jumping, they were quick to snatch their hand away from his mouth, cheeks burning with warmth. Before they could even think of snapping at him, he’d licked his lips, as though savoring the taste of them that lingered.

It was all too hot, all at once and in all the most dangerous places of their body.

“I didn’t want to scare you off,” he coolly said, leaning back against the back of the leather couch and eying them with a practiced sultry-sweet gaze.

A promise lingered there; a promise of a forbidden fruit dangling right before their eyes and practically begging to be stolen and feasted on. Their hands itched to take him for themself, but would they do that without being devoured first? A chilling thought, and yet… the warmth in their core seemed to anticipate the moment either of them would snap and give in wholly.

Sylus quietly laughed at their heavy silence and glazed over eyes. At that moment they knew, that they’d fully played right into his hands where he’d wanted them. “But… judging from your reaction, I guess my worries were all in vain, hmm?”

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[sunniques]

OMG YES MANIPULATIVE PROFESSOR WONWOO

— teacher’s pet

cw/tw: degradation, manipulation, yandere themes, dubcon, oral sex (m), riding, unprotected sex, creampie

“God, you’re just a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

Your eyes are teary as you gaze up at your professor. It’s not that you were purposely trying to fail his class. In fact, you spent hours studying and trying your hardest to understand the material. You thought this time you’d be able to pass the test without Wonwoo’s help, but once again you had overestimated your abilities.

“S-Sorry.” You mewl out as your professor slaps his cock against your cheek. His precum smears across your face as you keep eye contact. “I tried my best. I swear.”

He knows you did. You’re such a good girl that you went out and studied so hard that you got a nearly perfect score. But you can’t know that. This lovely fantasy he has going will come to an abrupt end if you find out you don’t need him to pass, and that can’t happen.

“I know, sweetheart. Can’t help that your dumb little brain just thinks about cock all day.”

Wonwoo groans when you lean forward to take his dick into your mouth. You greedily lap up his precum, eager to placate him and make him forgive you. Your soft tongue caresses his slit as you deep throat him.

“Fucking shit.” Wonwoo hisses. “That’s it, baby. Keep sucking my cock.”

You do. You keep sucking and licking his cock until he’s shooting his cum down your throat. As always, you swallow it hungrily, wanting nothing more than to please your professor.

Wonwoo’s eyes are dark as he pulls you on his lap. He presses a messy kiss on your lips, loving how you taste mixed with him. Guilt and remorse are things he can’t feel when it comes to the situation. You love being his little cumdump, and he loves how much you love it.

“Show me how sorry you are, sweetheart.” Wonwoo groans as you sink down on his big cock.

Imediately, you start to bounce on him, fucking yourself on his dick like it’s all you care about. You’re moaning and whining so prettily, crying out his name as his weeping tip reaches a spot inside you that no other man has ever touched.

Your pretty tits are bouncing in his face, and Wonwoo can’t stop himself from taking one of your hard nipples in his mouth. He groans around the sensitive bud, tongue swirling and flicking it before he nips on the sensitive skin with his teeth. You tighten around him, staining his cock with your arousal. It makes him grab your ass to help you fuck his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart. If only you were as good at my class as you are at riding this dick.” Wonwoo growls as he starts to thrust up into you.

You moan loudly, not caring that anyone could walk by his office and hear what you two are doing. The back of your eyelids are painted with stars, and all you can focus on is the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Cum inside me! Please!”

Wonwoo smirks at how needy you sound. He really has turned you into the perfect little cockslut.

“Shit, baby. You’re lucky you’re my favorite student.” Wonwoo groans as he starts to fuck up into your hot cunt. “Can’t ever say no to creaming in your tight little pussy.”

His words trigger your orgasm, and all you can do is chant a string of thank you’s like the mindless slut you are. Your hips keep moving until you feel your professor shoot his sticky cum inside you. It soothes the ache you’ve felt since you met him, but you know it won’t be long before it returns. Luckily, your professor is kind enough to help you through it all.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader x Steve Harrington requested by anon 18+

“Baby, you gotta be quiet.”

An impossible request, really. Especially when Eddie had been cruel and rolled down the window, smirking as he did. The van was parked amongst other cars, nestled near the back and the cinema screen was playing some B horror movie that you weren’t really paying attention to. 

How could you? You were on Eddie’s lap, legs spread and hooked over his, your skirt barely hiding the fact that your underwear had been pulled off, scrunched lace on the drivers side seat. You had your head thrown back, lazing against Eddie’s shoulder, your back to his chest and his hands were inside your shirt, hands palming over your tits, silver rings catching at your peaked nipples. 

“Good?” Eddie whispered in your ear, voice low and raspy. “I know it is baby, look’it how messy you’ve made Steve.”

The other boy was kneeling in the footwell of the van, an impossible task in his BMW and the only reason he let Eddie drive. He was a pretty sight, hands bracketing your thighs, thumbs pulling at your folds to spread you a little more and he’d been kitten licking at your clit for the first fifteen minutes of the movie. Nothing more, nothing less, just feather light touches with the tip of his tongue, soft and lazy drags that kept making you whine. Eddie had hushed you, grinning, threatening to roll down the window until he finally did. 

If anyone walked past, they’d hear you. Worse, they’d probably see the top of Steve’s head, the way it moved as he nuzzled further into you, how Eddie snuck one hand from your shirt to wind his fingers into Steve’s hair and pull him even closer. 

Steve groaned at the touch, let himself fall slack for the other boy, pliant as he allowed Eddie to guide him, swearing quietly as he was pulled by his hair, tongue still out and dragging from your needy hole all the way through your folds until he was flicking at your clit again. Over and over until your back was arching and you could no longer discern between your noises and the awful screeching on screen. 

Eddie’s teeth grazed your neck, nipped at your earlobe and you could feel how fucking hard he was underneath you, cock nestled between your ass cheeks, denim between you. His chin was hooked over your shoulder, pupils blown wide and eyes almost black in the dim evening light, trained on Steve’s face as he pushed him almost a little too roughly into the seam of your pussy. Steve’s lips were glossy with you, pink and swollen and Eddie couldn’t wait to lick you off of him after you’d came. 

A car door slammed from the row in front of you and you could just make out the wheels of the snack cart coming closer. Soon enough, a freshman would be knocking on the van window, asking if anyone wanted some popcorn. Eddie must’ve heard it too, ‘cause he was laughing softly, pulling your legs wider and letting his hand wander down to your cunt. He cooed, pulling the hood of your clit back until you gasped, showing you off to Steve. 

“Better make her come, Harrington, unless you both wanna get caught.” Eddie pouted, brows stitched together in faux upset, like he was disappointed in you both. You would’ve laughed if Steve hadn’t wrapped his lips around your swollen clit, tongue pulsing over it. “There you go, huh? You got it handsome, you’re gonna make our girl come so good, aren’t you, big boy?”

[starogeorgina]

Redemption

Warning: Swearing, smut, hints of violence

Pairing: Ivar × reader

1.01

“Ivar!”

“What?” He whines like a child before placing a soft kiss on your bare hip and pouting up at you, his lips still slightly red and swollen from kissing you so roughly. “I told you I wanted us to have a child of our own,” he states, pushing himself further down the bed so he can have a full view of your own puffy lips. Ivar had a fascination with watching his cum drip out of you. He would often try to push it back in with his fingers or clean you up with his tongue. “I want to see you around with my child, a creation of our love.”

“I know you do.” You let out a soft groan when his finger lightly brushes over your clit. “But I’m so sensitive, I just need a moment to…”

“You’ve spilled too much of my seed,” he says, ignoring what you previously said. “I’ll need to put more inside you if we wish for this to work.”

“Hmm… fuck!” You moan loudly as he places a strong hand on either side of your head before thrusting himself inside you for the third time that evening.

Fucking was one of your favourite things to do, but Ivar would push you to the point of exhaustion with how many orgasms he gave you. He always made sure you came at least once before fucking you into oblivion.

—

You nip at Ivar’s bare chest with your teeth, and he flinches slightly, causing you to giggle. Burying your face into his neck, you mumble, “How long will you be gone for?”

“I am unsure, but I will return to you,” he says, kissing the back of your knuckles, “to our family as a proud man, not as a cripple.”

Shuffling into a more comfortable position on your back, you let out a huff. You understood why Ivar needed to go to England with his father, but you still didn’t like it. Usually you remained close by his side, but being pregnant, you decided to stay behind in Kattegat, despite Ragnar asking you to join them personally. Queen Aslaug had a dream of her husband and son drowning because of a storm, but neither of them cared much for her warning, so you tried not to worry too much; you needed to believe Ivar would always find his way back to you. Letting out a deep sigh, your hand moves to cradle your ever-growing bump.

“My sweet, sweet Drifa, I can see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you I will not die on this journey.”

“You better not; I’ll need you by my side when I deliver our child. I don’t want to do it alone.”

“You won’t be alone. If I’m not here, my brothers and mother will remain by your side.”

“I know,” you say, toying with strands of fur from the blanket covering your chest, “but they aren’t you.”

Ivar kisses the crown of your head, stroking your hair as you start to fall asleep. There was no possible way he could assure you he wouldn’t die, but he would try to comfort you the best he could. You’d grown up alongside the sons of Ragnar, with your mother and Aslaug being so close, so you’d known Ivar all your life. You had considered him your closest friend before any romantic relationship had developed between you, but the flames of desire had been burning ever since he killed a boy who tried to force himself on you.

It would absolutely break your heart if Ivar didn’t return home.

—

You opened your eyes, scanning the dimly lit room to see where the sound in the distance was coming from. You saw nothing but recognised the heavy breathing as your husband's, so you closed your eyes again. Leaning your head back, you try to enjoy the warmth surrounding your body as Ivar drags himself into the room. You had the slaves fill you with a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing continuously to wash away the blood that stained your skin. Your thighs and groin were red and raw, but you continued to clean each time you saw the blood from your miscarriage reappear.

It seemed like the right decision at the time to remain in Kattegat, but you were there when the village came under attack and witnessed Lagertha killing Aslaug while her back was turned. Moments later, you fell to the ground, screaming as a pain ripped through your lower abdomen as you lost your unborn child.

Lagertha had spared your life after you attempted to kill her by throwing an ax at her head. She thought that by letting you live, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t seek revenge for their mother. Oh, how wrong she was.

“They say being in water so warm isn’t good for you, my love.” Your husband says he's propping himself up by his arms, leaning them on the side of the tub so he’s level with you.

You shrug.

“I can have one of the slaves help you get out and dressed if you’re in too much pain.”

Shaking your head, you press your forehead against Ivar’s. To most, he was a sadist and bloodthirsty man, nothing more than a man who craved violence to fill the void in his heart, but he had never treated you with anything but kindness and respect. Ivar found the love he always craved from you in spite of others thinking your relationship would fail. Since Margarethe spread rumors claiming Ivar couldn’t please a woman sexually, the other sons of Ragner enjoyed teasing Ivar, saying it wouldn’t be long until you left him for someone else, not that you ever would.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, I want to stay in here until the water cools down.”

Ivar brushes damp hair behind your ear as tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Perhaps the gods took our child early so that my mother wouldn’t be alone.”

“Perhaps,” you sob. Ivar had been furious upon learning of his mother's death and had sworn to kill Lagertha one day, but he was trying his best to contain his rage around you. “Queen Aslaug deserved better. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened to her, but her death will be avenged.”

“We will have our revenge on Lagertha, but for now we will bid our time. First you will regain your strength, then we will have revenge on those who are responsible for my father's death, and then we will have retribution for what happened to my mother.”

—

A mixture of dampness and thick smoke hung heavily in the air as you stepped outside for the first time in days. Hiding away wasn’t going to change what happened, and you wanted to at least appear strong on the outside. The first person to greet you is Ubbe, who pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry, Drifa; I know how happy you and Ivar were to finally start a family of your own.”

Hvitserk hugs you next but says nothing. Behind you, Sigurd makes a crude comment about Ivar losing his mommy and then his surrogate mommy right after. You keep your composure, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Sigurd had attempted to seduce you several times since you married his brother, but each time you rejected him, making him bitter towards you.

“That’s enough,” Ubbe snaps.

Irritated, your fingers tap against one of the tables loudly, gaining all of the brothers attention. You narrow your eyes at Sigurd as your fingers slide over the selection of weapons already laid out on the table for the purpose of gutting fish.

“Just ignore him,” Hvitserk says, attempting to calm you down. “My brother is just jealous; he doesn’t even have a woman to stick his cock in.”

“Is that right, Sigurd? You are making jokes at the expense of my dead child because your dick is lonely? I’m sure we could find a nice pig for you.”

His face reddens with embarrassment when his brothers all laugh at him. “You’re nothing but a whore; we all know Ivar couldn’t possibly be the father of that thing that was growing inside you. He isn’t man enough.”

“Do not insult Ivar in front of me!”

“Why? Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit about a cripple.”

You grab hold of the knife next to you and aim it at Sigurd. The edge of the knife scrapes across the side of his face, cutting it in the process. When Sigurd goes to take a step towards you, Ubbe steps in between you and says, “No more; you’ve upset our sister enough for one day.”

Another reason Sigurd hates you is because his family accepts you as one of their own. Aslaug treated you like a daughter, and his brothers were very protective of you. They admired your loyalty to Ivar.

“I am counting down the days until my husband finally kills you!” You hiss.

Hearing a laugh, you turn your head back to see Ivar observing the scene with a smile on his face. He had managed to crawl so quietly that nobody noticed him sitting on the opposite side of the table from where you stood. He claps his hands in amusement and says, “Isn’t she fantastic? Beautiful and violent.” Ivar licks his lips before sitting back in the chair. “Now, let us begin to plan our next move.”

Ivar motions for you to come over to him; when you do, he guides you till you’re sitting atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around your back while your legs dangle over his. He kisses your cheek and says, “Good girl, your aim is getting better.”

Admittedly, you weren’t the best at welding a weapon or firing an arrow until Ivar decided to teach you. You whisper, “I still think I’ll need a few more one-on-one lessons.”

He smirks before turning his attention to his brothers, who seem unfazed by you sitting on his lap, all aside from Sigurd, whose glare is burning into you.

[callme-holly]

Can you do a three times the gang almost caught and the one time they did with two dal or steve

But the reader is also a Curtis? Like their sister?

𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 [𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - i'm so sorry this took so long omg. I'm really trying to be faster but my attention span is so short and I just can't sit down for longer than 10 mins. I will probably also end up writing this sort of fic for Two-bit and Steve too, only bc I have literally nothing for them yet lmaoo. Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing, mentions of fighting

0.1 - more charm than sense 

The Curtis home is unusually quiet; everyone either out or at work. 

The radio plays on low, some commercial station that only seems to play the same ten songs before switching back to the first and replaying them all without end. 

You’re standing in front of the sink, towel in hand, and as you clean up the remnants of breakfast, your brother’s dirty plates are dumped haphazardly atop the counter in a less than neat pile. The water runs clear under your steady hands, and for a moment you forget that you aren’t entirely alone in the house, too focused on cleaning up to notice anything further than the sound of your own breathing and the light static of the radio.

You're so lost in thought that you barely register the lingering presence behind you, only startling once a familiar pair of arms wind themselves around your waist from behind, the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cheap, most likely stolen, cologne filling your senses. Lips are pressed against the base of your neck, and a chin rests on your shoulder. The sudden weight is warm and familiar. 

“I thought ya invited me over to spend some time with me, doll, not clean.” Dallas drawls, his voice rough and his accent heavy. You can feel him smile into your skin as you sigh, letting go of the cloth in favour of turning towards him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His hands fall to your hips, and his thumbs trace lazy patterns into your skin. 

“I didn’t invite you, Dal,” You raise your brows, “You climbed in through my window.” 

Dallas laughs lowly in response, shrugging nonchalantly as he drops a kiss on the corner of your lips. “Didn't expect ya to be so preoccupied.” He trails off, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and nipping lightly along your jawline. “Thought I’d be gettin’ more attention than this.” 

You roll your eyes fondly in response, but don’t move away as he continues peppering kisses down your jaw and collar, your hands wandering idly to the hem of your shirt. You’re quick to slap him away, fixing him with a warning look. He just grins lazily, leaning in close enough to press his lips just below your ear. 

“Dallas.” Your tone is stern, and it has absolutely no effect whatsoever on the greaser, who merely hums in reply, hands moving back to your waist to pull you closer. “Not here.”

Dallas’ grip tightens for a moment, and he pulls back, tilting his head to the side. “C’mon, doll… You’re brothers are gone; what’s there to worry about?” There’s a wicked grin on his lips as he steps away from you and leans against the kitchen counter, watching you carefully. 

It had been a mutual agreement to hide your relationship from the gang, a decision made to spare you from the headache Darry would no doubt give you and the black eye Dallas would receive for even thinking about touching you. You knew it was stupid to try hiding things from the gang, especially when they could see right through you like nobody else did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell them.

Darry would probably skin you if he found out you were dating a hood like Dally, and you didn’t want to risk it. 

“There’s plenty to worry about,” you conclude, turning back to the sink. “What if Two-Bit or Johnny decide they wanna pay little old me a visit, huh, and they catch us here in the kitchen?” 

Dallas chuckles before placing his hands on your shoulders, leaning in close to whisper directly into your ear, “They won’t catch us, darlin’. They haven’t yet.” His hands begin to wander once more, and you drain the sink with a sigh, trying to find what little composure you have left to resist him and his words. He's relentless, damn him, and you know better than to hope for any sort of peace and quiet when you're home and alone.

His lips continue to trail a line down your neck, mouthing teasingly along the sensitive skin before moving back to your lips. This time, however, you give in, your fingers threading into his hair as you meet his eager advance. 

It's almost too easy to lose yourself in the haze of the moment, so much so that you hardly notice the thumping of footsteps on the porch until the screen door opens suddenly and Sodapop’s voice rings out.

“Y/N! You here?” His voice is loud with excitement as always, and you’re quick to jump away from Dallas, your eyes wide with surprise. 

“What the hell?” You hiss, glancing around the room frantically before spotting before your gaze lands on the bathroom door. You shove Dallas towards it, mumbling under your breath as you do so. “Get your ass outta here.” He snorts quietly, following your gaze and pressing a kiss to your cheek before closing the door behind him just as Soda rounds the corner in search of you. He beams brightly, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“You’re home early…” You start, and he shrugs, heading to the dining table to grab his lunch which is still sitting where you’d left it out this morning. 

“Forgot this,” He holds up the bag and you roll your eyes internally. Typical. 

“You know,” You head back to the sink, taking out the now-clean dishes and stacking them back in the cupboard. “Sometimes I wonder how you’ve lived this long.” 

Soda smirks and raises an eyebrow, backing towards the door, lunch now in hand. “What can I say? What I lack in sense, I make up for in charm.” He winks, flashing a cocky grin as he leaves the house, the door banging shut behind him.

You watch to make sure he's completely gone before jogging to the bathroom and throwing open the door. “I told you this would happen.” You start, but stop short when you see that the room is empty.

The only sign that anybody had even been in here in the first place is the open window, the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, and that stupid cheap cologne that lingers in the air.

“Goddamnit, Winston…”  You huff, shaking your head and walking over to pull the window shut. 

0.2 - some unwanted visitors  

There’s a slight chill in the air; the summer nights slowly beginning to turn cooler as fall begins its slow, sleepy crawl across the state. 

Dallas has an arm thrown lazily over your shoulders, a cigarette dangling between his lips as he presses close, and a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. You lean into him slightly, savouring the warmth surrounding him and feeling content in his hold. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, neither wanting to break it nor quite being comfortable staying silent either.

“So... I suppose you're wanted back before curfew, huh?” Dallas eventually drawls, shifting slightly to lean his head against yours. You let out a small laugh, leaning further into him and  allowing your cheek to rest against his chest.

“You know it,” You murmur, and he hums, his fingers tracing little circles on the small of your back absentmindedly. “Darry thinks I'm out with friends again, so you’ll have to drop me off at the end of the street.”

The greaser frowns at that, a faint crease forming between his brows. “I ain’t lettin’ you out of my sight, doll, 'specially not this late.” He looks almost offended that you'd even suggest such an idea, and you shake your head, looking up at him. 

“Dal, I can handle myself. I don’t need you watching my ass 24/7.” 

He rolls his eyes, giving you an indignant scoff. “You ain’t got to act all high and mighty, doll. You know I ain’t going to let you walk alone.” He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers the next part. “Besides, we both know you like it when I watch your ass.” He pulls back then, grinning wildly when you roll your eyes dramatically, pushing him away. 

“Whatever, Winston,” You mutter, a coy smile tugging at the corners of your lips as he reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together loosely. “But seriously, though, I’ll be fine.” 

Dallas simply grunts, choosing to drop the subject, giving you no further argument. You know he’ll still insist on walking you to your porch, regardless of whether your brothers spot you or not.

He thrives on adrenaline and the thrill of getting caught is just too much for him to resist. 

You both turn back to the movie playing on screen—some old beach movie with a plot no different from every other. It's cliche and unrealistic, but you're willing to put up with it just so you and Dallas can spend time together without hiding. 

It's not until halfway through the movie that you spot a familiar pair of faces making their way towards your row of seats, too caught up in their debate to spot you. Dallas currently has his head buried in the crook of your neck, the movie long since forgotten as he trails kisses along your jawline, and you're barely keeping your attention focused on the screen.

“Dal,” Your tone is hard, and you elbow him sharply in the ribs, eliciting an annoyed groan. “We’ve got company.” 

Dallas turns to glance towards the end of your row, and, sure enough, there stands none other than your brother Ponyboy Curits and Two-Bit Mathews, both of whom are yet to notice you both. 

“Shit,” He growls under his breath, arm slipping from around your shoulder as he turns his body away from them. “What’re they doin’ here?” 

You give him a half-hearted shrug, scanning the area for a way out and coming up short. The closest exits are the ones closest to your brother and Two-Bit, and you have no doubt that they’ll spot you if you try to make a break for it.

You're about to suggest going the long way and cutting through the crowds when suddenly someone comes up behind you, hands slamming into your shoulders and your voice cutting through your internal panic.

“Y/N Curtis!”

You whip your head around, meeting the gaze of Two-Bit, who is grinning like a madman. Dallas lets out a grunt of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and shooting the two boys a cold look.

“What’d you want?” He snaps, and Ponyboy frowns, looking over at you curiously.

“I thought you told Darry you were out with friends tonight?” 

Your eyes widen, and your face heats instantly. “Well…” You trail off. “There was a change of plans.” 

Pony raises an eyebrow, seemingly sceptical at your words, as Two sits himself down in the seat beside you, stretching out and taking a sip from his drink. Dallas says nothing, his expression darkening, and you feel him tense up beside you. 

There's an awkward pause, broken only by the crackling audio of the movie, before Dal huffs impatiently and rises from his chair. He shoots you a look, and you instantly understand, standing in your own chair. 

“We’re going to go grab some drinks.” You state this before turning on your heel and following Dallas away from the seats, weaving through the rows until you find a secluded spot, away from the larger crowds and the prying eyes of the two greasers.

Ponyboy and Two-Bit watch to both go, frowning in confusion before Two raises a brow. “They seem pretty close.”

Pony shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “My sister isn’t stupid enough to date a hood like Dally.”

Oh, how wrong they are…  

0.3 - who’s jacket is that? 

You’re at the DX, leaning back against one of the gas pumps as you listen to whatever wild story Steve is telling you. His hands flail around dramatically, and you nod along slowly, only half paying attention as Dallas comes to stand beside you, a cigarette hanging lazily between his lips. 

He doesn't speak, simply resting a subtle hand against your lower back, his fingers drawing lazy patterns into your skin. Your mind races, and you take note of the people around you. How could any of your friends notice the small display of affection happening between the two of you? But they all seem too caught up in their own conversations to notice. 

Steve’s voice cuts through your thoughts just then, drawing you from your reverie and your attention away from Dallas. 

“And then she tosses her milkshake right in this asshole’s face and leaves!” You have no idea what he's talking about, but let out a small laugh regardless, at least trying to look somewhat interested in what he’s saying.

Dallas shifts a little next to you; the pressure of his hand is now more noticeable against your lower back, and you know that he knows you're distracted. You can almost sense the smirk he’s holding back, and you resist the urge to turn and glare at him, instead focusing back on Steve and the other boys, their mindless chatter continuing for a few moments longer before Johnny speaks up, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Hey, Y/N, is that a new jacket?” 

You turn to stare at the boy, brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh?” You glance down, and you swear your heart stops for a moment. You're still wearing Dallas' jacket. Shit. 

Quickly, you clear your throat, hoping that the colour flooding your cheeks isn’t too obvious. “Oh… Uh–” By now, all eyes are on you; the previous conversation has long been forgotten in favour of watching you intently. It’s uncomfortable, and just as you’re about to offer up a poor attempt at an answer, Steve pipes up again, his brow furrowed. 

“Ain’t that your jacket, Dal?” He looks over at the greaser beside you, and Dallas hums, taking another drag of his cigarette. There’s a small smirk on his face, his eyes flickering down at you before he gives a shrug, blowing out a thin cloud of smoke. 

“Dunno. Could be.” He states this nonchalantly, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and slouching against the gas pump. “It looks awfully similar.” 

You swallow hard, averting your gaze as the gang glances back over at you, all sharing the same confused expressions. It seems Dallas isn't going to offer up any more on the subject, so with a few heavy sighs, everyone seems to drop it, returning to their previous conversations. 

Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turn to look up at Dallas, who is still grinning smugly. His hand rests comfortably on your back once more, his fingers resuming their rhythmic pattern, and you allow your shoulders to relax a little, knowing he’ll tease you relentlessly later on. 

“They look awfully comfortable.” Steve remarks quietly, nodding his head in yours and Dallas's general direction. It seems your fond expression for the hood hasn’t gone unnoticed, and Soda snorts, nudging his buddy in the ribs. 

“What’re you talking about?” He raises a brow, taking a rag from his pocket and wiping off the oil staining his hands. His attention moves to you and Dallas, a knowing look spreading across his features as he watches the two of you interact and an impossibly soft look in Dally’s eyes as you talk to him. 

He can’t help but notice the jacket once more, how it’s just a little too big on you, and how it looks a little too much like Dallas’s to just be a coincidence. No, there’s no doubt in his mind about who exactly owns it, and if the smug smirk tugging at the corners of Dallas’ lips is anything to go by, then maybe, just maybe, Steve is right. 

Things are slowly starting to add up. 

0.4 - caught...

It’s early evening, and the sun is sinking low in the sky, casting dim rays of golden light throughout the room. It’s peaceful; the excitable chatter of the gang in the living room fills the air, muffled by your closed door. 

Dallas has his head resting in your lap, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers as he blows smoke out through your open window. His eyes are closed tight, bruises and cuts litter his face, and his skin is stained with blood and dirt. He doesn’t speak, merely wincing as your fingertips trail over his wounds, stopping occasionally to press gentle kisses to his hair. 

There’s a nasty gash above his eye, the blood trickling freely in little rivulets, and you wipe at it lightly with a wad of gauze, the sting of the alcohol drawing a pained grunt from the greaser.

“Do ya have to do that?” 

You give him a sympathetic smile, brushing your lips over his forehead tenderly. “Sorry,” you mutter, running your fingers through his matted hair. “I’m almost done.” 

Dallas doesn't move; he just stays silent, letting you dab gently at his injuries, his expression unreadable.

You never know how he's going to act after a rumble. Sometimes, he's fine, joking around and teasing with the others, but then there’s those small moments where the tension from the fight doesn’t dissipate, where he sits in complete silence, letting you work without complaint. 

These are the times when you worry, when it becomes obvious that he is hurting. He won’t tell you, not directly at least, but you know something's wrong. You can tell in the way he holds onto you, his face hidden from view, as his hands grip desperately at the fabric of your shirt. 

“Dal,” You murmur softly, and your tone is soft and soothing. “Talk to me.” Your fingers trail softly through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp, and you notice his shoulders drop a little. He exhales heavily, pressing his cheek against your thigh, his eyes closed tightly.

“Not right now,” His voice is thick and rough, and words slurred slightly as he struggled to stay awake. Your eyebrows furrow as a soft sigh escapes your lips, reaching your free hand out to brush over his bruised jaw. It's rare to see him so vulnerable and obviously upset, and it hurts knowing that he will bottle things up and hide them away until he’s forced to let it all out. 

You don’t push, though. Instead, you take his hand in yours, running your thumb over his bruised knuckles as you lay back against the pillows. The movement causes Dallas to shift slightly, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and he drifts off within seconds. 

You let your slip shut, allowing yourself to drift easily along with him, content to lay here with him and wait patiently until he’s ready to talk. 

“Hey, where’s Dally and Y/N?” Pony’s voice breaks through the cheerful laughter of the gang as they bounce around the living room, most still high on adrenaline and excitement, only slowing down slightly once the question reaches their ears. 

They all glanced about the space, their eyes scanning over every possible corner, before coming to rest with each other, sharing the same look of confusion. 

Darry pushes himself up from his chair with a sigh, tossing the first-aid kit in his lap to Soda, who catches it with ease. “Y/N is in her room. She might know where Dallas is.” The gang all watches as he heads down the hall, stopping just outside your door to knock softly. 

When there's no response, he frowns, glancing back towards the gang before knocking again. Still nothing. With a quick shrug, he turns the doorknob gently, pushing open the door and peeking inside.

Your bedroom is dark except for the faint glow emanating from your desk lamp, which illuminates the walls with a soft pale glow. Darry is about to call out to you, about to question you on where Dallas is, when he spots the hood in question asleep with his head in your lap. 

His breath hitches, and he pauses, his gaze wandering to you, your fingers threaded through his blonde locks. 

“Soda. Pony.” Darry calls quietly, catching both brothers’ attention immediately as he speaks. “Get over here.”

The two boys scramble up from their places on the couch, racing across the room and peering into your darkened room curiously, their eyes widening at the sigh before them.

“Well, damn.” Sodapop lets out a low whistle as the rest of the gang come up behind them. Two-Bit lets out a short laugh, and Steve cuts him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs. “I told you,” the former whispers, grinning broadly. “I told you they had something going on!” 

The group all share a look, the sound of Darry clearing his throat echoing in the quiet house. Slowly, he backs out of the room. closing the door once more and letting out a breath. 

There are words that will need to be had, promises that need to be made, but he supposes that can wait for another time. Right now, he'll let you and Dallas have your moment because it seems it's been long awaited. And it certainly has.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[sakasinterlude]

passionfruit | ruben dias x fem!reader

its summer vacation and you and ruben share some quality time on a yacht.

nsfw 18+, contains smut, ends with fluff!

a/n: i wrote this a while ago and decided it deserved to be read by someone other than me, so enjoy. definitely not a city fan, but ruben is just so sexy.

“I think this is my favourite place.”

“You love Greece that much?”

“No, I meant in your arms.” You give Ruben a playful shove of the shoulder as the soft bounces of the waves below keep you distracted.

It was another warm afternoon on what felt like a never-ending vacation with your boyfriend Ruben. Everyday consisted of beautiful views, delicious meals, and the warm company of your partner. The mornings blended into nights, as you had lost track of the days you had spent away from home, using blissful orgasms as the only unit of measurements. Twelve, not that you were complaining.

You reach for the fresh fruit cut up in a small bowl to the right. You take a big bite, savouring the sweet juice of the mango, a soft hum leaves your lips.

“Here.” Offering the other half to Ruben whose eyes stay closed lying beside you, still covered by his sunglasses. He absent-mindedly opens his mouth accepting your offering, not without playfully nipping at the tips of your fingers.

“So sweet.” He mummers, pulling your leg closer across his body, drawing random shapes on the hamstring of your leg. You two had been intertwined like this for so long you almost forget where he begins and you start, with your hand wandering from his wet locks to broad strong shoulders to his tan waist.

You prop yourself up on your elbow so now you are on your side facing Ruben, leg still over his waist.

“What will we do when we go home?” You ask into the wind, letting the Mediterranean air roam through your damp hair, lightly stroking his jaw with your free hand.

“What are you talking about? This is home.”

A cheeky smirk adorns his lips as his arms wrap tighter around your waist. You can just barely see the crinkles on the corner of his eyes, assumed by his own joke.

“Don’t stress minha querida, (my dear) I just want to enjoy the last moments of peace we have before everything gets crazy again.” You know all too well the hectic schedule of your shared life back in Manchester. A mixture of stolen kisses in the morning as you depart for work well before he even wakes up, catching up over lunch where your eyes dart between his facetime call and your latest work assignment, to late night baths together where you both are too exhausted to speak, just soft hands running over the others limbs. It was difficult to find any uninterrupted time together back home.

“Your right.” You sigh bringing you bodies impossibly close.

“I am. Now it’s been way too long since I’ve made you cum.” With that his quick fingers are already pulling at your bikini strings, making their way between your legs.

If Ruben was anything as a lover, it was a tease. He loved having you on a string, bringing you oh so close to the edge, just to yank you right back with a devious smirk. And of course, despite all the love making done this trip he still never got sick of this cat and mouse game.

His mouth plays connect the dots, finding all the little nips and love marks he made previously. The sensation gives you chills in the best way, you swear you can feel it in your toes. His hands stay busy not even entering you yet, just playing with the wetness surrounding your lower lips.

“So needy aren’t you? Just dying for my fingers I’m sure.” The feeling is so sweet you can barely speak just letting out the softest yes in reply.

“Here, its your turn for a taste.” His face is so close to yours as he removes his fingers to run them along your bottom lip. With two soft taps your mouth is open, accepting his two fingers covered in a sinful mix of both of your cum, and the fruit from earlier that day.

“You love that shit, huh gato?” (sexy)Ruben was also cocky, very cocky. He knew exactly what buttons to push, using the sweet nickname that was reserved only for the most intimate moments. You close your eyes and hum, relishing in his slender fingers, sliding digit by digit into your mouth.

With little hesitation, Ruben removes his fingers sharply, making their way down under. He curls in his finger, just one at first, before rolling it out slowly, so you can feel every curve, intentionally done to manifest the most pleasure. Again, repeatedly with an additional finger, in and out, sinfully, painfully good. You hid your face within his shoulder.

“C’mon, let me see that face.” He pushes even deeper, how you are not even sure. “Let me hear that sweet voice.”

You let out a loud and long moan into the open air around you. You and Ruben often engage in shameless sex, not caring for the cries and whines created, just the pure pleasure produced. Memories of rushed moments in the bathroom of dinners, handsy uber rides, and banging neighbors in hotel rooms bring a smile to your face. This was probably the most ideal setting for the two of you to be wrapped up with each other, not a soul as far as the eye can see, nothing but endless blue water meeting endless blue skies.

Your high creeps up quickly as all you can think you is “how can he make me feel this good?”. The want and need to finish forces your legs shut, the sensation is just so strong.

Ruben’s strength quickly forces your legs flat and flush with the flimsy mattress below you, spreading your legs wide.

“I’m close, really close.” You barely have the power to say the words. Ruben removes his fingers, not for long as he moves to play with your clit. Your mouth gapes open, looking between his messy fingers at work, and his big smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He places all four fingers over your bud, rubbing back and forth easily thanks to your cum. You grab at his tan veiny forearm, not to stop him, just to feel his sharp movements, wrapping yourself around his arm. You can’t take it anymore, tossing your head back, arching your back, finally cumming.

“Yes, yes, yes!” He chants right up against your ear, his words muffled and merged together into incoherent nonsense. You whine and cry, twist and curl, all while Rubens hands stay overstimulating you completely.

“Good girl, yes gato, your good, so so good.” His hand now out from your legs and  wrapped around your head, pushing your damp hair away from your face, pressing kisses and sweet words into your skin.

You look up at his soft brown eyes, they have a sparkle to them almost, maybe from the sex, maybe from the sun, but regardless you can’t look away, only pulling your face close to his. You bring your nose right up to his, maintaining eye contact, rubbing yours against his, a silent thank you of sorts. You two had many non-verbal forms of communicating, this being one of them. Ruben lets out a sigh, coupled with a dopey smile.

“There is nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.” He says sincerely, looking deep into your eyes. Eyes he’s met before hundreds of times, eyes he could write pages on the exact hues and undertones they possess. You blush deeply, bringing your hand to brush at his beard.

“I feel the same way, amour.” (love) His turn now to mimic your same blushing cheeks. “But please let me put my bottoms back on before the crew comes looking for us.”

He laughs, untangling his arms from around your body. The thought of the outside world not even crossing his mind in this moment of bliss.  

[smuttyworks]

The game - Mattheo Riddle x reader

Shmuttttt warnings - aggressive, swearing, and pretty hefty smut

summary - Reader has the most fun teasing who ever she wants, making them beg for her, and leaving them like that, but she really meets her match with Mattheo Riddle.

-

Mattheo sent a glare your way, and it only fed into your infatuation. You bit your lip and leaned over the long table in the great hall, staring him down as he looked back up from the book in front of him and now currently resided on the exposed cleavage of your undone blouse.

With an annoyed sigh, he swallowed down his words before saying something in front of the other slytherin group. “Why aren’t you studying? The test is coming up and I doubt you know all the potions on it.” Draco nudged you.

With an eye roll you sat down on the stool, “I’ll do fine, worry about yourself.” You nudged him back as you reached for your bag and stood up. “See you guys later.” You waved at the group, your eyes landing on Mattheo last, and you gave him a small smirk, knowing the others wouldn’t see it, but he sure would.

You had to hold in your giggles as you walked down the mostly empty great hall, seeing some other students studying as well. You continued your pace out of the doors and down the corridor towards the stairs, hoping to get a quick smoke break in from all the stress of this stupid test, one that you were confident you’d pass, but not sure by how much.

Once you pushed through the doors you felt the cold air nip your skin and it was refreshing. You took a deep breath in and scurried to your favourite smoke spot.

You pulled out your cigarettes and lit one, inhaling the smoke and finally feeling that relief you’d been waiting for all day. With your lungs full of smoke, your mind landed back on the curly haired brunette boy who always held a glare, one that could make you wet with a single deadly glance.

Mattheo Riddle, the one boy you were having the hardest time cracking, but you knew you were getting close, no matter what every boy gave in, most of them quicker than this… you had Draco practically begging for you after an hour of attention. 

It was fun, toying with them until they begged for your touch, your soft kiss… but you never gave them it. But its been days of accidental touches, showing off cleavage with your blouse buttons down, flirty looks, he still hasn’t broke. But with his growing annoyance for you, well more than usual at least, you knew he would, you just needed to apply more pressure in the right spots.

-

You met back with everyone in the common room and watched as Mattheo was looking through the books on the shelf. You stood up from your spot on the sofa chair and strolled over to him. 

“I just need to squeeze in for a second,” you whispered, reaching for one of the books his fingers grazed over and pressed your butt into his crotch, “Got it…” you smirked up at him, his brown eyes glaring down at you as you slid past him and made your way back to your chair, peeking over the random book you picked up and watching Mattheo as he looked at you angrily, a noticeable bulge in his pants as he hastily sat down on the sofa a few feet in front of you.

Your mouth watered at the sight before you as he hid his erection with a book. You were so close, he would break just like the others…

Theodores laughter echoed around the Slytherin common room as they all looked through the potions on the tables behind your chair. And with a quick peek to make sure they weren’t paying any attention your way, you turned back to Mattheo with your lip between your teeth, and your legs spreading slowly.

His eyes fell to between your skirt and his lips parted slightly. You watched in awe as you knew he was putty in your hands. Mattheo’s head fell back but his eyes never looked away from between your legs.

Adrenaline filled your body like it always had when you finally broke your target, but somehow Mattheo making you work so hard for it was the most excitement from all of them. You dropped one of your hands from the book as you hiked up your skirt slightly, exposing your soaking purple panties to him.

Mattheo gulped and brought his fist to his lips, and that’s when you decided it was enough. A smirk covered your lips as you closed your legs and crossed them, your hand pulling down your skirt. He just glared at you, far angrier than usual, and that excited you. 

-

“Night guys,” you waved back to Theodore and Draco as they returned to the dorm rooms full of yawns. You smiled to yourself as you pushed the book back onto the shelf, humming to yourself quietly. 

But a yelp escaped your lips as you were pressed roughly into the shelf, a hand tangled in your hair painfully. “This what you wanted?” Mattheo’s voice whispered in your ear. You cried out at the pain from your scalp and the pressure of your body against the shelf.

“Mattheo?!” you gasped, “W-what are you doing?” 

“Im giving you exactly what you wanted,” he chuckled in your ear before biting your lobe, causing you to cry out. “And don’t worry, I put a spell on the room… no one can hear us.” He laughed, his hand roughly squeezing your breast through your clothes.

You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t think he would go this far after you pushed him. “Mattheo-“ you whined, but he spun you around and pushed your back against the bookshelf, your back stinging at the pain of the shelves.

“Shut the fuck up.” He spat, inches away from your face. And you listened, fear filling your body, but arousal took over. “Understand?” he breathed, his eyes staring into yours.

You nodded and just stayed completely still as his hands traveled up your body, over the curves of your breasts until he stopped at the skin exposed of your chest, and with his eyes glancing into both your eyes until he tore apart your blouse, the buttons hitting the floor all over the room.

Mattheo’s eyes dropped down to your bralette, and he effortlessly ripped the thin fabric of it. “Tell me, is this what you wanted?” he whispered, his warm breath on your bare chest causing your nipples to harden and goosebumps to rise on your skin.

You swallowed, “Yes.” You breathed, “I just didn’t think you had the balls to actually take me… no one ever does.” 

His hand quickly gripped your neck and held you in place, “And no one ever will,” he glared, “you’re mine now, sweetheart… I hope you know what you got yourself into.” Mattheo’s other hand slid up your bare leg and between your skirt, his fingers inching away from your soaked panties that were on display for him only less than an hour ago.

His fingers pressed against your clothed clit, the pressure causing a moan to escape your lips as you widened your legs further, giving him more access as he rubbed light circles over the sensitive bud. “Mattheo…” you moaned, your hands holding onto his forearm as he held you up by your neck still, not hard enough to restrict breathing, but forceful enough to keep you up against the bookshelf.

He chuckled and leaned his forehead against yours, whispering your name with that smile on his face, that smile you didn’t see too often, but the smile that aroused you to no end.

His slim fingers alone were enough to get you so close, but as quickly as it came, it all went away when he pulled his hand away. You whined as he dropped his hand from your neck, but he then grabbed your arm roughly and pulled you towards the sofa. You watched him as he slipped the torn fabric of your blouse and bralette down your arms and threw them across the room.

“On your knees.” He whispered, his head tilting slightly. 

His fingers lightly caressed your cheek and the hot and cold from his rough touches to his soft ones had your head spinning, Mattheo Riddle had you on your toes at all time, and this was the most fun you had since coming to Hogwarts.

Without another second pass, you slowly dropped to your knees, your eyes never leaving his as you anticipated his neck moves… but then you stopped and decided you wanted the control again. 

Your hands darted to his bent and quickly undid it, trying to hide the how shaky they were. But you undid his black pants and pulled them down along with his dark boxer briefs, his hard dick now exposed.

Mattheo groaned and his fingers found your hair again, holding you tightly as he took back his control and pulled you to him, your mouth widening to accommodate for his large size. His soft, warm tip pushed past your lips and he moaned at the pleasure, your tongue brushed against the bottom of his dick as he slid fully in your mouth.

“So pretty with my dick in your mouth.” He breathed, his eyes watching your every move as he slid in and out of your mouth, the taste of his pre cum driving you feral. Your hands gripped his thighs as you sucked his dick. 

You cried out when his hold on your hair tightened, but the sound came out muffled, his strong hands guiding you faster and deeper with every stroke. “This little game of yours… its over,” he breathed, staring down at you with his lips parted, “you’re mine now.” His tongue brushed over his lips lightly.

When you didn’t make a sound in agreement, he pulled your hair and disconnected your mouth from him, to which you immediately nodded, “Yes Mattheo, I promise.” You swallowed, drool dripping down your chin.

He smirked down at you, “Good girl.”

You gushed at his words, your panties now almost dripping in arousal. Mattheo lifted you by your arms and kicked off his clothes, then motioned for you to go to the table that the others were using to study at not to long ago, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks.

You did as he said and looked down at the table, then without warning Mattheo spun you around and lifted you to sit on the table, then crashed his lips to yours. You moaned into his mouth as his hard dick pressed against your crotch. 

His hands slid down your bare waist and down the sides of your pleated skirt, then he slowly ran his cool hands up your bare thighs until he reached the hem of your panties, and with a little help from you lifting your hips off the table, he slid your panties down.

He pulled away from the kiss and eyed your body, “Didn’t think anyone would claim you like this, now did you?” he breathed, clearly amused with how easily he had you now as putty in his own grip.

Before you could say anything, though you didn’t know if you could say anything… he dropped down to his knees, his head between your parted legs and his warm breath on your glistening core.

“Mattheo-“ you were cut off when his lips attacked your clit, his tongue working wonders on your sensitive bud, “Oh my god!” you cried out, not use to the magical sensation. Your head flew back as his finger entered you, pushing in and out at a deadly fast pace.

You couldn’t contain the moans as he added a second finger, stretching you to soon accommodate his dick, the excitement filled your body as you took in the realization of what was happening. Mattheo Riddle was on his knees for you as he pleasured you like no other, nothing anyone has ever had the balls to do before, not like this.

“Cum on my face, baby.” He whispered against your skin, his voice edging you closer and closer to your release, something you wondered If he would actually let you do, considering the agonizing torture you had put him through the past few days…

“Mattheo, I-I-I’m so close,” you moaned out, tangling your fingers through his soft brunette curls. With a few more flicks of his tongue, he had you completely undoing, your head falling back as you cried out profanities along with his name.

Mattheo wasted no time connecting his lips to yours, his tongue dominating yours as you tasted your juices from his lips. “Mine.” He stated, cupping your cheek, and positioning himself at your entrance.

“Yours.” You affirmed, and with that he pushed himself fully inside you, no warnings, just his moans filling your mouth mixed with your cries. His dick filling you up more than you could have ever expected.

His brows furrowed in pleasure as he took in your expressions. “So perfect.” He breathed, cupping your cheek softly, something you never imagined he could be capable of.

His other hand pressed down on your chest and you laid flat on the table, Mattheo watching your chest bounce with every hard thrust, his hands gripping either side of your waist to pull you in to meet his movement, further increasing the pleasure you both shared.

“You feel so good,” you moaned, gripping the sides of the table.

“Fuck, baby… you have me so close already.” He breathed, pleasure covering his face, and that only turned you on more and more, knowing your body could cause so much pleasure for him was an amazing feeling, as him knowing his body could have you crying his name out was a proud feeling for Mattheo as well.

You could feel his thrusts getting sloppy, and you knew he was close to coming undone. And with you moaning his name once more, pleasure engulphed his body, as his strong orgasm rose out you could feel him shoot his cum inside of you, something you had also never experienced before and was now definitely a new favourite of yours.

“Fuck…” he breathed, pulling your body up as he held you against his bare chest, both your breathing heavy against one another. He looked down at you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “I lied about spelling the room by the way.”

You gasped and pushed back slightly to face him.

“Everyone heard you screaming my name.” 

[gatorbites-imagines]

Never sent a request before, FORGIVE ME

But .. I noticed that Scott Pilgrim is on your list now I would kill for some Stephen Stills smut,,

Stephen Stills x male reader

Headcanons

Chubby Stephen Stills lives forever in my mind.

It takes a while to Stephen to accept his own sexuality, and even longer to act on it. His friend group probably drags him along to a club of some kind, as they all want to let lose and get him out of his comfort zone.

Stephen finds himself in a corner with some kind of alcoholic drink, trying to avoid the crowds, and trying not to stare at the many attractive guys walking around. He feels extremely out of place with his denim pants, flannel shirts and thicker body.

That’s what ends up catching your attention though, he doesn’t try to appear more than he is, and isn’t showing off. So, after telling your friends you’d be right back, you saunter over to the guitarist.

Stephen almost thinks he’s imagining things when you slide up beside him, leaning against the wall with a handsome grin on your face, your clothes sitting perfectly on your body, and your hair styled in a way that only makes you more attractive.

He wouldn’t believe it when you claim he’s attractive and that’s why you are flirting with him, as he’s probably used to people making jokes on his appearance.

Imagine Stephens surprise when you pull grab his hand and pull him out onto the dancefloor, arms winding around his neck to give you better leverage to grind up on him. Stephen’s face goes bright red, and he almost drops his mostly empty drink, his free hand gripping your hip as you move against him in those sinful movements.

He swears he can hear Wallace wolf whistle somewhere in the background through the music that plays over the speakers, especially when you press right up against Stephen and bury your face into his neck.

A shaky breath leaves him as you start nipping at his neck, pressing the flat of your tongue against the skin there and dragging it over the stubble running down his neck. Stephen’s head falls back with a soft moan, a noise you are unable to hear over the music, but you can feel it against your lips.

At some point he loses what’s left of his drink, but at this point Stephen can’t find it in himself to care as he’s groping at your waist, pulling your hips against his own, erections grinding together and making him shiver and gasp.

Hes lightheaded from the blood rushing to his head, both of them, that is, as Stephen has never found himself so hard and unsure of himself. He stumbles as you suddenly pull back, grabbing his hands to lead him through the large crowd of people.

All Stephen can do is stumble after you as you lead him somewhere, down a hallway and around a corner, and in through a normal looking door. A bathroom, one of the employees that people shouldn’t know the location of, but you had worked part time at the club at some point, so you knew the way around.

Few words have actually passed between the two of you before your kissing him, hands buried in his ruffled brown hair, his stubble rubbing the skin of your face raw as his hands finds themselves on your torso, touching and feeling your body through your clothes.

His kisses aren’t the most experienced, and maybe it comes from the fact that this is completely new territory to him, to do this with a man, that is. But he makes up for it through his enthusiasm, and the soft noises he lets pass from his mouth to yours only adds onto your enjoyment.

Its hard not to smirk at how desperate Stephen appears, his hips rolling on his own against yours, his heart racing in his chest and face hot and flushed.

When you finally reach down to palm at his crotch, a louder gasped noise leaves him, as his hips jolt forwards, trying to buck into your touch, searching for the contact he craves so much.

Stephen stumbles as you pull away and push him towards the toilet, your hands working expertly as you undo his belt and pull his cock free before he’s sat down. He whimpers softly as his hard length twitches, precum beading at the red tip as his hands grip your sides, his eyes looking up at you with the hungriest expression a man has ever given you.

You press a kiss to his lips to distract him as you kick off your shoes and pants, leaving on your socks, since its still a public-ish bathroom, your hands finding a pack of lube in your jacket pocket before the jacket too Is thrown to the floor.

A shaky curse leaves his lips as you scramble into his lap as well as you can in your current location, your fingers easily finding your hole and opening yourself up in practiced ease, your hard cock pressing against Stephens soft middle.

It doesn’t take long to open yourself up, and using the excess lube, you lather up his aching cock, causing his eyes to roll and his jaw to drop in a silent moan, more precum gathering on his tip and slicking up his length.

You can’t help but mutter soft praise to him as you lower yourself onto him, his cock filling you up as you both moan at the feeling, Stephens noises shakier than your own as his grip on your hips grow tighter.

He ends up kissing you desperately as you start riding him, the kiss wet and uneven as he can’t seem to fully focus because of your fluttering hole around him, your cock dragging stains against the fabric of his shirt as you bounce at a steady pace.

It takes some maneuvering for Stephen to strike your prostate, but when he does, he seems to take to it like a fish to water, bucking his hips up into you and striking that bundle of nerves every time he bottoms out inside you.

The fabric of his pants feels rough against your ass as he starts pulling you down into his bucks, Stephen ducking down to start biting and sucking on your neck as you grasp at his shoulders and arms, squeezing the fat and muscle under your fingers.

His moans evolve into rougher growls and groans as he grows closer to the edge, Stephens eyes fluttering shut as his jaw clenches, his abdomen tingling and balls drawing up as that familiar feeling rushes through his bloodstream.

Stephen leans back against the toilet as he bucks his hips up one last time, head falling back onto the water tank with a thunk as his soft stubbled neck is almost offered to you, a drawn out groan leaving his clenched teeth as he spills deep inside you.

With his throat so exposed, its impossible to not lean down and sink your teeth into it, sucking another hickey as you clench around him and reach down a hand to stroke yourself to completion. You are nice enough not to spill all over his shirt, instead catching it in your palm as you cum, your palm painted white.

Stephen shudders for a while, catching his breath and collecting his thoughts again before he can look at you, his chest rising and falling as he pants. You just grin and kiss him, softly this time, before getting up and cleaning up as well as you are able.

His knees are wobbly as he gets up, but he follows after you dutifully when you grab his hand, pulling him back into the crowd and towards your friends, who have apparently met up with Stephen’s friend group.

He must look as well fucked as he feels, as all of his friends start hollering and whooping, a knowing glint in Wallace’s eyes as he knows exactly what you guys were doing. Stephen finds himself blushing even more, but he doesn’t say anything about it, still feeling unsure on his feet.

You end up telling him you like him quite a lot, and that you wanna go on a date with him at some point. And Stephen, being just as smitten, is quick to agree. You guys share numbers and other contact information, and as the night comes to an end you make sure to kiss him within an inch of his life, ignoring the wolf whistles and cheers from your friends.

[vallification]

first time (NSFW)

"womanly advice" // JJK AU PT. 3!

incl: satoru gojo, suguru geto

content: NSFW, unprotected sex, dirty talk, degradation, hair pulling, spitting, creampies, teasing, cunnilingus, f!reader, established-ish relationships

wc: 4.3k

minors/ageless blogs do not interact.

please like, reblog, and tell me your thoughts!!!

satoru gojo

“did you do this for meee?” gojo teases, feigning shock as he drags his fingers across the bare stretch of skin where your pajama shorts would usually be. your hand clasps over his tightly once it starts to travel further inward, your eyes wide. 

“no, actually, you woke me up to come over and i forgot i sleep without pants on,” you correct, stilling his hand with an iron grip that he could easily overcome if he so pleased, but your grip falters when he begins to pepper feather-light kisses under your jaw. “p-plus, we can’t do anything, anyway.”

“you on your period or somethin’?” he murmurs against your neck, his cool breath fanning out over your quickly warming skin. it tickles, but you aren’t giggling; you blush, eyelashes batting as your eyes start to slip shut. no, you think, weakly trying to snap yourself out of whatever trance gojo’s trying to put you in, but failing miserably.

“no,” you whisper, sighing softly when gojo nips at your earlobe before kissing the spot just behind it. biting down on your bottom lip to hush yourself, you decide that some kisses won’t hurt. maybe.

“not ready? just don’t want to? ‘s okay,” kiss, open-mouthed and soft, right at your pulse point. 

“no– no, i want to, i just…” god damn his mouth, you think to yourself, just wanting to finish one sentence without your voice faltering into a pathetic little whine, you swallow, your throat thick with anticipation, before finishing your thought. “haven’t shaved in a while, so…”

gojo’s lips stop working their magic on your neck, and he pushes himself up to look at you, unimpressed. “i’m a grown man.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means exactly what i said,” he emphasizes, pressing a kiss to your lips. “i’m a grown man, i don’t care.”

“... are you sure–?”

gojo interrupts you with another kiss, this one searingly slow, saccharine if not for the implication behind it: shut up. you do, of course, submitting to his kiss with a soft sigh, his tongue taking the opportunity to swipe against the plushness of your lower lip, a silent command to let him explore. 

as if he was in control of both his body and yours, in one fell swoop he changes your position, now hovering over you between your slightly spread legs. gojo’s arms cage you in, one elbow on either side of your head but conscious not to put any weight on your hair, letting his knees slide lower in the bed until his torso is flush with yours. the connection of your kiss never breaks, and gojo’s swallowing every gasp, moan, sigh, and whimper that he pulls from your throat as he glides his tongue over yours. 

snaking your arms around his neck, you let your hands learn the pattern of the crafted muscles of his back,  memorizing the way they feel under the gentle pressure of your fingertips. it makes him groan, something low and free as you rub at the tense, taut, covered flesh of his back. 

breaking the kiss, gojo lifts himself upright to gaze down at you, your lips kissed cherry red and your cheeks blossoming a sort of pink he swears he’s only seen in magazines. one finger slides between his temple and his blindfold, crooking around it and tugging it off, leaving his view of you unobstructed. there’s something about the action that makes you melt against your sheets, wanting more than anything to press your thighs together, yet you’re unable to as he pulls them over his own.  

you hadn’t noticed before, too caught up in tongues and lips, but in the low lamplight, you see gojo’s shirt. black, compressive, clinging to each and every contoured muscle of his body; his arms, his shoulders, his chest, his sides, his impressively stacked abdominal muscles that you could feel before you even saw… and then his hands take hold of the hem of the shirt, peeling it off of himself to join his hoodie on the floor, those same muscles now bare before you. you’re speechless. 

“this alright?” he asks, but you’re completely absorbed in the magnificent view. the way his gray sweats sit low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers visible for a half-inch above them, the chiseled ‘V’ dipping into that waistband, the daunting trail of snow-white hair centered between it all, and the outline of… god, you can’t even finish that thought. “i think somebody likes the view,” gojo teases, so smug that if you weren’t putty in his hands, you’d kick him out here and now.

not keen on waiting for a response, he resumes his previous position, pressed against you at the hips, stomach to stomach. one of his roaming hands finds a temporary home where your left thigh meets the soft flesh of your ass, squeezing, groping, pulling you to hook that leg over his hips. the newfound position gets you closer, spreading your legs apart that much more to finally feel the thick print of his cock against your pussy, only separated by clothes that you’re coming to find offensive. 

artful, narrow hips tilt forward, marking the first rut against you, and you moan at the drag of friction against your core that only you have offered yourself in the past five years. gojo swears above you, crashing his lips into yours as he continues to grind himself into you, hissing as your nails scratch desperately down his back as if you were trying to keep yourself from falling. you buck your hips up, trying to match his rhythm, but your legs are already shaking with pleasure and anticipation, which has not gone unnoticed by gojo. 

“what d’ya want?” he asks, breathless and sultry as he moves to target your exposed neck with his kisses. chasing any trace of pleasure gojo’s willing to give you, your back arches off of the bed with each searing, god-given kiss, and you can barely think, much less speak, but he needs your answer like he needs air. you gasp when you feel his sharp, pearly-white teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, just beneath your jaw, and moan at his rumbling voice as he soothes the spot with his tongue. “tell me what y’want, i wanna know, baby.” 

“satoru, i-i want— fuck,” you whine, far too high on the way you can feel the heat of his cock grind against your clothed, aching pussy. if you spread out far enough, the lightest drag of friction ghosts across your throbbing clit, awestruck at the jolt of electricity radiating from the sensation. another sharp nip at your neck, meant as reprimand, makes you cry out his name. 

“words,” gojo tuts, sliding his hands so deliciously between your bodies and over your stomach, up to your clothed, heaving chest. softly squeezing both of your soft breasts in his hands, he can feel your hardened nipples in his palms through your shirt, and it takes every last drop of his willpower not to rip the shirt off of you like an animal. “i wanna hear you say what you want me t’do, baby, tell me so i can do it.” 

“touch me,” gasping, your voice begging and breathless, having been reduced to nothing by something as juvenile as dry humping and over-the-shirt contact. “please touch me, satoru, i want you to touch me so bad, please.”

-

“you feel s’fucking good, fuck,” gojo whines, ragged and desperate as he fucks into you, so hard and so deep that it would hurt if it wasn’t so damn good. almost all of his weight is pressed into you, with his hands gripping the backs of your knees, folding you up so far you can see your ankles next to your head, limply swaying with each vicious thrust. “this ‘s my fucking pussy, right? ‘s mine, nobody else’s, right?”

“y-yes, yours, ‘s yours, satoru,” rambling pathetically through your unabashed, unfiltered moans, your jaw slack from a primitive sort of pleasure you’ve never experienced before this. the only time you’re even close to hushed is when gojo captures your lips in a kiss so forceful that you’re scared he’ll knock your teeth out, mixing your delirious cries with his guttural, whining moans.

“you’re so perfect, so fucking pretty when i fuck you. hear how wet you are? perfect fucking pussy’s so sloppy,” from that delicious chiseled V-line to his balls, slapping against your ass each time he thrusts into you, gojo’s skin is soaked in your slick, so wet and so much that it’s audible from between you. one hand lets go of its grip on the back of your knee, and gojo leans forward to keep it in place with his shoulder as he grabs a fist full of your hair, forcing your eyes down to where his thick, long cock disappears into your pussy. 

“watch me fuck you, baby, fucking watch it,” he rasps, relishing in the way his grip on your hair makes you cry out. it’s so hard to open your eyes, too fucked out to focus on much, but you obey and watch the way your pussy seems to suck him in, and it almost makes you drool. “so fuckin’ tight, so tight, so tight, god.” 

“‘m gonna cum again, satoru, i-i’m so close, please don’t stop,” you beg, words slurring together like you’re drunk off of his cock. you’re sweating, skin sticky, tingling as gojo pulls almost all the way out of you, just to slam right back inside, the burning stretch of him splitting you open more than enough to send you barreling towards your third orgasm. 

releasing his vice grip on your hair, gojo’s hand moves between you to rub sweet circles on your swollen clit, the pounding pace of his thrusts unfaltering as he resumes the position. he’s drinking up the vision of you beneath him like a man that’s wandered the desert for miles, thirsty and praying for water, burning the image into his mind to remember it forever, and ever, and ever. how your face scrunches up each time the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, how your eyebrows have sloped down almost pitifully, how your glorious mouth hangs open in that perfect little ‘o’ shape around your perfect moans of his name. 

“gonna cum on my cock again, baby? gonna be such a good, good girl and cum for me, baby?” gojo adores the way you babble ‘yes, yes, yes, satoru, yes’ in response to every question, rewarding your behavior with a passionate, messy, open-mouthed kiss to your lips. “let me cum in you, please baby,” he begs against your lips, pussydrunk and hellbent on fucking you till he’s got nothing left. “wanna cum in your perfect pussy, baby, don’t make me pull out.”

the drag of his cock, the way it rubs against that perfect, spongy spot inside of you, the perfect pattern he’s tracing over your clit, his voice, begging to cum inside of you, all of it’s too much to bear when you’re so fucking close. gojo moans at the way your tight, sloppy pussy clenches around him sporadically before your metaphorical string snaps. 

“oh, fuck satoru yes, fuck,” crying, toes curling, back arching, pussy gushing around his cock as your orgasm tears through you like a hurricane, so wet, so sudden, so strong, gojo’s pace still so relentless as he fucks you through it. his ragged, almost animalistic moans take on a whiny, desperate tone as he watches you unravel beneath him, savoring the patterned grip and clench of your pussy as you cum because of him. so pretty for him, so good for him, so perfect— 

“good fuckin’ girl, yes, baby,” he whines, soothing your over-pleasured cries and the burning coil of his own approaching orgasm with more kisses, uncoordinated and sloppy in his efforts. that familiar tightening feeling in his balls warns him that he’s so, so close, and if this were any other time he’d slow down, pull out, switch positions, anything to slow himself down, but– “you feel so fucking good, god, fuck.” 

gojo’s rambling is punctuated with one final slam of his hips, fully sheathing his twitching cock inside of that perfect, sopping wet pussy he can’t stop blabbering about, succumbing to the divine sensation of release. thick, hot, milky-white cum pours into you in quick, powerful bursts, every single one of gojo’s muscles spasming with such strength that all he can manage to do is fuck his cum further inside in short, shallow, uneven thrusts through his climax. 

it’s an entire minute before he can even think about pulling out of you, and the little mewl that leaves your lips when he does makes him want nothing more than to slip right back inside, but he doesn’t. sitting back on his heels, he takes in the aftermath of what he’s done: you, legs spread and shaking, chest heaving, pussy dripping with his cum, dripping down, down, down to a puddle on the bed beneath you with each clench around nothing. 

“pretty,” he mumbles, gathering you in his arms as he lays down beside you. a soft kiss is pressed to your temple, your cheek, and finally your lips. “sleep?”

you don’t think situationships are supposed to do this.

suguru geto

“beautiful,” geto whispers to himself, lips ghosting against the inside of your thigh with every spoken syllable, the brushing contact against your skin doing nothing to ease the growing ball of anticipation in your stomach. at the head of the bed, you squeeze your eyes shut and bite down on your bottom lip, quickly growing unwilling to be patient any longer. even if you’re not looking at him anymore, geto’s magnetic eyes haven’t left your face since he started this torturous exchange.

that is until he finally allows his eyes to flick down your body, taking mental pictures at each pit stop on the journey to the sight in front of him. exposed, untouched, weeping, the beautiful place between your legs that he’s been oh-so-carefully avoiding, not only with his kiss but with his gaze. geto wanted you at the edge of sanity for this, and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you when he looks back up to your face, twisted up as if you were on the edge of being in pain. 

“what’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his smooth, deep voice sickly sweet as he feigns innocence. you can feel the warmth of his lips less than an inch away from your neglected, dripping core, and while you don’t have the bravery to openly react, you make up for it in sheer desperation. something of a sob, a pitiful, sad noise, leaves your bitten lips as you clutch the sheets in frustration. 

“please,” is all you can muster, your voice meek, wobbling as you near tears. 

“oh, don’t cry, baby… please what?”

“fuck– geto, please do something,” you beg, praying that the tears welling up in your closed eyes don’t fall, but more so that he’ll just give in, give you something, give his tongue a task that doesn’t involve torturing you any more than he already has. 

“who?”

“suguru!” you cry out, those tears you prayed so hard not to fall slipping down your flushed cheeks in two steady streams, your display of desperation finally enough to convince geto that you deserve this. 

not wanting any more time to be wasted, geto slowly presses his lips to your achingly untouched pussy, immediately darting his tongue out to lick a flat stripe from your sopping entrance to your throbbing clit. a low groan sounds from geto’s throat as he tastes you for the first time, mumbling something into your wet folds about how good you taste on his tongue. the relief, the pleasure, the vibration of his sultry voice against you, it’s all mindnumbing, your jaw immediately falling slack around a moan of, “yes.”

all of the teasing and taunting no longer seems like it was for nothing more than sick entertainment, the payoff proving to be so much more than worth it when geto’s sly tongue circles your swollen clit, his lips following suit and closing around the little bud and sucking. it pulls something guttural from your throat, a loud, shuddering moan ringing out through your apartment, like music to geto’s ears. 

“your pussy tastes so sweet, baby,” suck, “so beautiful, you’re doing so well,” geto praises between his divine pattern of slow, sensual, deliberate licks over the entirety of your pussy, his tongue dipping inside you before swirling over your clit, sucking, then repeating the process all over again. the consistency of his godsent mouth is brutal, far too careful and calculated to make you overly sensitive, but messy and nasty enough to completely overwhelm your senses.

you’re not sure if it’s because of the teasing, or if it’s because suguru geto is just that good, but you can feel your orgasm building, winding up like a metal spring with each swipe and prod of geto’s tongue against you. the pressure and the pleasure pooling in your stomach makes your thighs start to close around the sides of geto’s face, but the moment your skin touches his, he stops, and you sob.

pushing your legs up to your chest, geto glares daggers up at you, his slender eyes shooting you a warning against letting anything get in his way. “hold them,” he commands, eyes still locked on yours as you grip the back of your knees, now using both hands to spread your pussy open to his liking. “it’d be a shame if i had to stop again, baby. understand?”

“yes, suguru,” you whimper, flustered at the position he’s got you in, so open, so exposed. 

despite his temporary snap, you and geto both melt when his tongue slips back inside of you, your eyes rolling back at the delicious intrusion. it takes little time for geto to work you up to where you were before he stopped, but this time you don’t dare let your legs close, keeping them in a vice grip no matter how hard it is to fight against your own body. 

each controlled, precise flick, suck, lick, slurp against your pussy makes you whine, pulls you closer to the edge, and drives you so fucking crazy that you’re not sure this is real life anymore. geto’s far too absorbed in devouring you to notice, but you’re babbling now, on and on about how you’re so close, right there, don’t stop, suguru, suguru, suguru, oh–

“oh fuck,” you gasp, unaware that an orgasm could roll through you so slowly, so gradually that you’re sure it’s a fakeout until you’re arching off the bed, vision pure white in such a powerful explosion of pleasure that it’s blinding. “suguru, fuck, fuck fuck–”

“oh, baby… look at you,” he mumbles against you, his mouth dripping with your slick, drunk on your taste as he laps at the overflowing gush of wetness from your orgasm, which continues to  roll over you like ocean waves. geto savors the way your overstimulated clit twitches against his tongue, and the way your gorgeous, glistening pussy clenches around nothing. what a shame that geto’s sweet, sweet self-control has run out while you’re so, so sensitive. 

the tip of his middle finger dips into you, eliciting the sweetest little mewl from your lips, gathering your slick with it before slowly plunging it deeper inside of you, letting it sink to the knuckle before dragging it back out. you’re so wet that there’s little resisitance other than the precious little clenches from the aftermath of your first orgasm of the night. a second joins the first when geto slides his nimble fingers back inside, eyes sparkling when he can see the way your pussy grips around them.

how badly he wanted your first time together to be soft and sweet, loving and languid, is completely trumped by how achingly hard his cock sits against his stomach, sensitive red tip soaked in a pool of precum from his position on his stomach. pulling his fingers free from your grip, he wastes no time with undressing, settling for pushing the waistband of his joggers down just enough to let his cock spring free, and while he doesn’t purposefully make a show of his size, your eyes can’t help but grow wide at the sight.

“come here,” geto commands again, his voice a low type of growl you’ve never heard from his lips, and if it weren’t so fucking hot you’d be scared. well, maybe you are a little scared if you add the size of his cock into the equation, but it’s hot nonetheless. you scramble to get yourself up and where he wants you, and you’ve never been manhandled before, but you assume the way he grabs you fits the bill. 

geto lifts you into his lap and slides the two of you up to the head of the bed, resting your back against the cold hardwood headboard before heaving your legs up over his broad shoulders. it’s not too different from the way he had you just minutes ago, but the pressure of his body forcing you into that position is enough to have you begging him to hurry up. 

snaking one hand between your bodies, using the other to grip the headboard in an effort to brace himself, geto guides his aching cock to your dripping entrance and gently starts pushing himself inside you. you wince, flinching when the stretch of geto trying to bury himself inside you starts to feel like it’s going to be impossible without being agonizing.

“s-slower,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut to try and focus on adjusting to his size, expression slightly pained as your head falls back against the headboard. “‘s so big… i don’t know if ‘s gonna fit…”

geto leans back just enough to get a clear path and spits, landing perfectly on your clit and dripping down to his length until he pulls out, sliding his cock against your slick pussy. the sight makes your jaw drop, and you find yourself no longer caring if it’ll hurt. 

“you can take it, baby,” lining back up with you, geto presses his lips to yours, soothing the pained gasps that spill out as he pushes in again. the burning, stretching sensation returns, but you find something so delicious in the pain, especially when he finally bottoms out and the only way you can describe the feeling is so, so full. “now… see? i knew you could do it. so, so good for me, yeah?”

“yes,” you manage to whimper, clawing at his beautifully crafted trapezius muscles over his shirt before tangling your hands into the long, dark hair at the back of his head. “suguru?”

“yes, baby?” geto’s voice sounds so different when he’s fighting the urge to fuck into you, fighting the vice grip of your perfect, tight pussy, fighting the voice in the back of his head that’s telling him to move. 

“please fuck me, suguru, please.”

you don’t have to tell him twice. the drag against your walls, the burn, the stretch as he pulls back just a few inches is sensational, making you grab a fistful of his black hair and tug. it makes geto moan, something so raspy and low that it sounds dangerous, and he snaps his hips back into you even though he’s trying not to hurt you. you cry out, not from a place of pain, but pleasure. 

it takes a few more slow, shallow thrusts for him to feel comfortable enough to find a real rhythm, but once he does, it’s brutal in the same way his tongue was. deliberate, controlled, sensual, intimate, so deep and so consistent. eventually, you’re rambling between moans about how big he is, how good he feels inside of you, how good you’re going to be for him, whiny voice choking up with each bed-shakingly strong roooll-snap! of geto’s hips up into yours.

geto makes no grand show of it, but he’s talkative, roughly whispering against your ear in response to every little babble that leaves your cockdrunk lips, each reply straying further from: “yeah, baby?” “i know, baby, i know ‘s so big, you’re doing such a good job,” and closer to: “god, talking like such a fucking slut,” “you’re so fucking nasty, the way your slutty pussy’s grippin’ me is so fucking nasty.”

you’ve never been one to appreciate such mean words in bed, but his voice, so harsh and so degrading, right against your ear has you coming undone right there in his lap, pussy gushing around his obscenely thick cock with the most desperate cry of his name. it only serves as encouragement for geto, who’s not far behind at all, to keep fucking you like you’re going to run from it if he lets up from his agonizing pace, crashing his lips against yours to hush your cries before he spills into you.

the position allows geto’s cum to seep out of you almost immediately, dripping down his length with each sloppy, uneven thrust up into you until he can feel it dripping down his rhythmically  constricting balls. 

it’s gradual, but when geto’s hips finally settle, still with you on his lap, he gently lets your legs down off of his shoulders while the two of you pant in silence. the hand once used to brace himself against the headboard cradles the back of your head to bring it to his chest, and the hand once used to grip your hip for security rubs over your back to soothe your tired body. 

“sorry about that,” geto mumbles into your hair, placing a kiss atop your head. “got a little rough.”

“‘s good, suguru. ‘m gonna need another shower i think.”

a/n: WHEWWWW y'all i'm pretty satisfied with this. i really hope y'all like it because i had so much fun writing it

@slutshamethesquirrels here you go ;)

[intoanotherworld23]

Having Dessert First

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, yeah this is smut and sex, sex on a desk, p in v, unprotected sex, public sex, dirty talk, brief spanking, swear words, Joel being a tease

Summary: Ellie comes knocking on the door, but Joel currently has you on top of a desk, and he doesn’t plan on stopping

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"Joel."

Both of you turned your heads towards the door as he slowed down his thrusting. Your back against the desk with your legs in the air his hands gripping your ankles keeping them bent, but spread apart.

"Yeah Ellie?" He asked calmly while he continued to drive himself into you at a slower pace his eyes returning to your bouncing breasts.

Even though she was just on the other side of the door you knew he wasn't going to stop. Both of you already in too deep there was no stopping either of you. Even if she walked in through the door.

"Your brother wants to know if you’ll be coming to dinner?" She sounded confused to why Joel wouldn't open the door to talk to him. "Joeeeel?"

Joel had been reunited with his brother just yesterday thinking he was dead. Meeting Tommy you realized how different the two of them were. Of course both of them were excited to see the other. You and Joel haven’t had a moment to yourselves, and you took the opportunity when it came.

"I don't know I'm kinda busy right now." Sharply thrusting his hips angling his cock to hit your sweet spot then staying there for a brief moment.

Your hand going to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. Shutting your eyes tight as you concentrated on trying to slow your breathing. Joel restraining himself from just pounding into your figure.

"He kinda wants to know now." She pushed making him groan in frustration.

Whimpering to Joel to not stop feeling yourself about to burst. Mentally screaming at him to not even think about pulling out, but the last thing you wanted was for this young girl to hear your screams of pleasure, and have that awkward conversation later.

"I already ate." Giving you a sly wink referring to when he just ate you out on the desk.

No other words were said which meant she had walked away. Joel returned his focus back to you watching as your body was writhing on the table. Picking up his rhythm making little moans and whimpers leave your mouth.

"Such a good girl staying quiet for me while I fuck that sweet pussy." He cooed at you making your cheeks heat up.

The room was becoming thick with lust and smelled like sex. Hands gripping the edges of the desk as it started to really rock back and forth against the floor making a screeching sound.

Moving one his hands down so he could play with your clit. Leaning up on your elbows so you could watch. Your mouth watering at the sight as his cock disappeared inside of you, and his thick fingers rubbing your bud.

Joel looked down and watched as he fucked you. Admiring how well you took his cock. Loving how your pussy would swallow him whole, and pull out to see your juices covering him. It made it all the more easy for him to slide inside of you.

“Your a little whore aren’t you?” Biting your bottom lip harshly as you nodded up at him.

“Getting fucked knowing anyone could see us.” Growling as he leaned his body on top of yours kissing your collarbone.

Feeling your walls tightening around him as you knew you were close. Feeling that tingling sensation in your lower stomach that familiar warm coil in the pit of your belly. Legs already starting to shake as your orgasm was getting closer.

"Fuck baby your pussy is squeezing me so god damn tight." He strained as he felt his own cock twitching nearing his release. "Gonna have to stretch you out more though."

“You’re too fucking tight.” Lips nipping at your neck and jawline.

Hands removing from your ankles, but sliding under your ass as he lifted your hips up to meet his now hard thrusts. You'd think this was the last time you guys were going to have sex with how hard he was going. Then again it very well could be with what was going on.

Your ass and lower thighs clapping every time they met his skin. Your hands gripping the sides of the desk as your head feel back, and your back started to arch.

“Bet you wanna cum so badly.”

“Joel please I’m so close.” Pathetically mewling to him as a tear rolled down the side of your face.

Letting out an uncontrollable cry as your pussy was clenching down on him more frequently. Feeling him deep all the way in your stomach. The noises your body was making had your cheeks burning up. Joel found them incredibly hot and a major turn on.

You were so wet for him you felt your arousal dripping onto the table. The sweat from your bodies sticking to each other. You felt so dirty but yet so alive. It was such a euphoric feeling, and you didn't want to let it go.

"That's it baby that's it take it like a good girl." Tears were now streaming down your face with his harsh and quick movements.

Both of you chasing your release, and this one was going to be intense. You could feel it all the way down to your toes. It has been too long, and both of you were ready to burst.

Leaning his body down so he could attach his lips to your erect nipples. Sucking on them while he maintained his rhythm never once losing his beat. You were becoming overwhelmed as you felt your toes curling, and the urge to go to the bathroom.

"God your pussy feels so good." He mumbled around your nipple making your sensitive buds tingle.

Biting down on the bud making you squeal as you felt him smirking against your breasts. He was always such a little shit when it came to sex always doing something to tease you.

Moving his lips up kissing your collarbone, then kissing your neck. Kissing along your jawline before he attached his lips to yours. Keeping his lips on yours not moving them. Loving the taste of his lips on yours.

Swallowing every single little breath or noise that you made. His facial hair was scratching your skin, and you loved it.

"Cum for me sweetheart." Whispering against your lips as light as a whisper, and you didn't need to be told twice as you were coming undone.

Feeling your body tightening as you clung onto Joel like a vine. Your nails gripping onto his arms as your release literally shook you to your core. It was overwhelming but mind blowing at the same time.

Joel’s thrusts we're starting to slow down. His body was finally starting to give up on him. He wasn't going to last much longer, and his hips were burning. Giving you a sharp pump keeping his cock there as your orgasm hit you.

Making you scream his name as your eyes closed and legs shook. Joel lifted himself on his arms hovering above you as he waited for your body to calm down. A drop of sweat rolling down the back of your neck. Both of you trying to catch your breath.

"I could stay buried between your legs all day." He spoke as you were coming back down from your high.

Joel swiftly pulling himself out of you hissing at how raw you were. Feeling so empty now missing the feeling already of him being inside you. Your naked body now quickly becoming cold as the air brushed around you.

“Well I won’t protest to that.” Your voice shaky as he chuckled.

Leaning up on your elbows to look at his flushed and slightly red face. His hands tracing patterns softly on your thighs as he looked admiringly at you. Goosebumps appearing on your skin at his intoxicating and sweet touch.

“Then I’m never going to leave that sweet cunt of yours.” Pulling your body towards the edge of the desk with a deep growl.

“Lucky me.” Cocking your head to side challenging him.

Before you could get another word in he swiftly grabbed your body so that you were now bent over his desk. A small gasp left your lips then a giggle. He was always so playful with you, and he even though he would do the same things it still surprised you.

“Joel.” Squealing as he gave your ass a couple sharp smacks.

His hands massaging the flesh in his hands as he kept spreading your cheeks apart. Looking down with a deep groan as you rocked your hips back and forth to tease him. Twisting your head to look at him as he returned your smile with a wide cheshire grin.

Hands sprawled out in front of you as he pressed his semi erect cock against your backside. It all happened so quick you felt like you got whiplash from how quick he moved.

"Don’t tempt me cause I will keep you stuffed at all times." He growled before he shoved his cock inside of you again making you gasp from the stretch.

——————————————

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989 @sullyosully

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @marchai @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24

[chaotic-mystery]

Needy Baby | Joel Miller

Dbf! Joel Miller x f!reader

✰ 18+ ✰ MDNI ✰

To set the mood, here’s some songs:

❦ unholy - hey violet

❦tonight you are mine - the technicolors

❦ the summoning - sleep token

❦ the undertaker (don’t shoot the messenger version) - Puscifer

CW: oral (f receiving), swearing, age gap implied, talking you through it

“Did you find it, baby?” Joel asks as he pushes the door to your dads garage open.

A sigh leaves your lips with frustration, slamming a drawer to the tool box shut.

“No, Joel I didn’t and I don’t know why he sent me out here to find it when both of your asses could’ve found it faster.”

He leaves a few kisses against the back of your head as you’re searching another drawer, his hands giving your hips a soft squeeze.

“It’s okay, I'll look for it darlin’. Lose the attitude will ya?”

Your back was cold once again, missing his body heat immediately as he started looking on the other side of the garage.

“I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated. You look so good in that shirt, I haven’t seen you in a few days, and I can’t touch you or anything while you’re in the house with my dad. It’s driving me insane, I can hardly be around you in there.”

Your words sound so silly as they leave your lips, but it was the truth. He only responded with a light chuckle and that only made you feel even more stupid for saying what you did.

“Look it’s fine I’ll just go inside and tell him i didn’t fin-” you were turning around just as he pinned you in against the tool box, his lips crashing onto yours.

“You aren’t going anywhere until I take care of you, pretty girl. Why didn’t you just say you needed me?” He knelt down in front of you, dragging your jean shorts with him. 

“How long have you been this soaked for me baby doll?” he asks as he nips at your wet panties, tugging the fabric between his lips.

His hands come up to caress your ass, spanking it roughly as he groans into your clothed clit. “Since I heard your truck pull in the drive way and I instantly thought about you fucking me. Joel please don’t tease I’ve missed you a lot” breathlessly you say, getting more and more frustrated.

Cold metal touched your hip as you heard fabric being cut, and before you knew it your panties were gone. You looked down, his eyes locked with yours as he licked your sensitive clit slowly. Tossing your head back against the tool box, he shoved himself further into you. His fingers glided up and down your slick folds, a wet clicking sound filling your ears before he shoves a finger inside you.

“God damn you’re so needy for me aren’t you, angel. Listen to that pretty pussy just purring for me.”

Your moans were getting louder, your hands gripping his hair as you rock against his face.

“Joel, jesus christ you’re so fucking good to me. Keep going baby”

Palming your breasts with your free hand, you could feel you were close. You loved cumming on his face, seeing his beard glisten with your juices. His finger curled inside of you pumping faster as his tongue circled around your clit harder.

“Come for me baby doll, come all over my face. You’re such a needy girl when you don’t see me for a while. Show me who this pussy belongs to.”

 It felt like the world was ending all around you as you came hard. So hard that you couldn’t make a sound for the first few seconds of coming undone. Your body jolted forward, riding your high on his face. The vibrations from his moans kept you riding until you finally had enough and slowed to a stop. He stood up and kissed you roughly and your tongues shared your sweet juices he lapped up. Cupping your face gently, he pulled back and kissed your forehead.

“C'mon baby, put ya shorts back on, we’ve been out here long enough. Besides, I already found what we needed as soon as I walked in.”

He winked at you and bent down to grab your shorts off the floor. As you both collected yourself and walked back to the house, you let him go first so he could tell your dad another famous Joel lie.

“She walked right in front of it, man. I wanted to see how long it would take for her to see it” he joked with your dad and the three of you laughed, and suddenly you noticed your panties were sticking out of his back pocket.

Sneakily trying to hide the trophy he decided to keep, you asked your dad to grab you a water bottle from the fridge. The door was open long enough to shield your dads eyes, for you to push the cut fabric down in his pocket, and give him a squeeze on his ass. 

[thus-spoke-lo]

cw: nsfw [minors dni]. vaginal intercourse, fem reader wc: 1.1k

“Where do you think you’re going?” Law grasps at the back of your shirt as you sit on the edge of his bed, gives it a gentle tug to coax you back under the blankets.

You stretch your arms above your head and the cool air of the room hits your stomach. “I just want something to drink, is that okay?”

“I guess.” You can’t see him, but you could swear that you can almost hear a pout in the way the words slink out of his mouth.

You playfully grumble and flop backwards onto him. “So I’m not allowed to go to the kitchen anymore, I suppose?”

“No, I’m afraid not. Captain’s orders.” A tattooed arm snakes around your midsection and pulls you down to the mattress so he can curl himself around you.

You sink into him, let him wrap you in warmth and affection; one long, muscular leg gets thrown over your hip, locking you into place, making it abundantly clear that he has no plans on letting you escape from this bed anytime soon. You watch the shadows dance on the wall in the dim light of the room as you listen to him breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against your back, and allow your eyes to close, just for a moment you tell yourself. After some unknowable amount of time passes, you crack your eyes open and glance at the clock on his desk.

“Shouldn’t we get up?” you remark, reaching back to pat his hip. “It’s getting late.”

“Not yet, just stay with me a little longer,” he grumbles, the hand around your waist slowly moving up and up and settling under your shirt.

“Everyone’s gonna wonder where we are.” You can feel a stirring in his sweatpants, a heaviness resting against your backside. 

“Then let them wonder,” he purrs. His large hand cups your breast, kneading it gently. 

“Since when did you become so blasé about things?” you ask, stifling a moan as he squeezes your tender flesh in his wide palm.

“You think I am?”

You let out a sigh as his thumb starts to move in languid circles over your pebbled nipped, and a rush of arousal pools between your legs. “A little. You said to be careful.”

“I’m careful,” he murmurs into your neck, making a trail of delicate kisses down to your shoulder. “So, so careful.”

“Careful, huh?” you muse as you writhe under his touch, your thighs rubbing together to try to satisfy your growing need for him. “Careful like when you keep putting your hand on my leg at dinner?”

“Yeah, well...”

“Careful like when you pull me into the supply closet when you think no one can see us?” You reach back and place your hand on the hardness that strains against his sweats, slowly stroking him through the thick fabric, feeling him pulse and twitch in your grasp. 

“I can’t help it,” he softly whines, grinding against your palm, hips gyrating in slow, insistent circles. “I want you when I want you. Not like you seem to mind.”

“Careful like how I haven’t slept in my own bed at night for, what, like a month now?” You squeeze his length firmly and feel the head of his cock swell against the curve of your ass.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, not deep enough to draw blood but enough to make you yelp. “Okay, you made your point.”

“So what then?”

He extracts himself from his position behind you, rolls you onto your back and pushes your thighs apart. He climbs on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head, slotting his hips between your thighs, the weight of his cock pressed against your clothed cunt. “So then we tell everyone.”

“You sure?” You wrap your legs around him wriggle your hips teasingly. “Aren’t you afraid everyone will think I get special treatment around here?”

“Well you do, don’t you?” he teases as he licks a stripe down your jaw, nipping at your skin.

“I suppose,” you sigh, running your hands through his mess of dark hair.

Law wrenches himself out of the iron grip of your plush thighs and pushes himself up onto his knees, taking a moment to indulge in the mesmerizing sight of your exquisite body before him, his gaze coming to rest on your barely-clothed cunt. He wordlessly and effortlessly tugs your arousal-soaked panties down, quickly tossing them off to the side, and pulls himself out of his sweatpants. His cock throbs eagerly as he takes himself in his hand, using his thumb to gather the precum that’s glistening on the swollen head and spread it along his shaft. A vulgar moan spills from your lips as he strokes himself for you, the steely leanness of his body on display as he palms his length; you bite down on your lower lip as you feel your drenched cunt pulse with longing.

“You get the most special treatment of all.” He slides the head of his cock along your glistening pussy lips, before positioning himself at your entrance, agonizingly pushing himself into you bit by bit, making you feel how you stretch to accommodate him, how he fills you utterly and completely.

“Okay, fine,” you concede, your elongated words floating on the air of a breathy moan as he finishes sinking himself into you. “We’ll talk about it with everyone over breakfast.”

He rests his weight on you, slowly moving his hips with a slow and steady cadence. “Good. Now, about you getting up.”

You wrap your arms around him, running your fingertips over the muscled plane of his back. “I wasn’t getting up, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He emits a hushed groan and his cock swells inside you; you cunt clenches around him in response, your hips rising to meet his thrusts, bodies moving together in the shadows of his room in a soft rhythm. He slides in and out of you with a gentle ease, no rush in his movements, and you savor each deliberate stroke, feeling every ridge and vein as he enters you over and over.

“So…you’ll stay?” he quietly rumbles into your collarbone, his voice tinged with agonizing desperation; his hips start to move with frantic urgency, his body restlessly rocking against yours with heated abandon.

You wrap your arms around his sweat-slicked body even tighter and lightly kiss his temple, feeling his pulse quicken under your lips and his cock throb powerfully as you answer: “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[chaoticbardlady99]

Never Have I Ever… (Astarion x F! Reader) MDNI 18+

Synopsis: You accidentally befriended the Heroes of Baldur’s Gate at Elfsong a little less than a year after the Elderbrain attacked.

Six months later, on your birthday, you are playing a game of “Never Have I Ever” at Elfsong Tavern and a topic of conversation takes a very interesting turn… that leads directly into the bedroom with your roommate, Astarion.

CW: PIV, Oral, Smut, loss of virginity, other sex words I can’t think of, brief mentions of past trauma

Pic does not belong to me

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜 thank you for reading!!!

The warm laughter that fills the air is infectious as you take another welcome sip of the red wine Astarion insisted you try. You are so horribly in love with the man that he could probably convince you to enjoy poison if he really tried.

As a new introduction to the friend group, you didn’t expect to find a roommate a short 3 months after getting your job at Shadowheart’s Clinic. You had just moved to Baldur’s Gate- you apparently have horrible timing- but you were happy to help with healing the injured, checking in on the sick, and even helping people grieve their loved ones appropriately.

You weren’t originally living with anyone. In fact, you had been staying at Elfsong for an extended period of time. Around month 3, you had been playing a late set (Being a cleric and Bard for Oghma is a big job) and you hadn’t noticed the man following you back to your room. Thankfully, Astarion had promised to go see your set and had noticed the intruder after you had said good night.

It was safe to say you were shaken and Astarion immediately told you that you A. Did not have a choice and would be taking his second bedroom and B. Need to be significantly more aware. You agreed to both.

He tries desperately hard to return your rent money to you- insisting that he is more than well off enough. You just stare at him silently until he feels so uncomfortable he takes it. You refuse to live in his very nice townhome for free- especially since you know his backstory.

Astarion has his first place, all to himself, and he has allowed you to intrude upon that space because you very nearly died or worse one night. He swear it isn’t an intrusion, but you always worry- it’s one of the few things you are very good at.

Paying rent also prevents you from becoming unrealistic in your expectations of your relationship with him.

It is just a friendship, roomie situation- nothing more, nothing less. You crave more, obviously, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted out of a partner- even the grumbly, more closed off pieces. You’ve stayed up with him through his nightmares and you’ve fallen asleep in each other’s arms more than a few times, but that was just comfort for him.

Right?

“Never have I ever…,” Wyll trails off, obviously very drunk as he leans on his fiancée, Karlach, for support, “had sex!”

The rest of the group groans about how unfair that is, but you aren’t necessarily sure what to do.

You’re a virgin and it’s something you’ve kept pretty close to the chest up until this point. You might as well keep the party rolling.

You barely drink- just enough to pretend- and no one seems the wiser.

Oh, but you are just a silly little drunk fool because of course Astarion notices. You are practically all he seems to notice anymore- or at least that’s what it feels like.

Everything about you pulls him in and he craves you.

Gods does he crave you.

He has to bite back the possessive growl that threatens to tear through his throat as he watches the alcohol not even touch your lips- the sleight of hand may have tricked their companions, but not him.

He adores you and at first it mortified him- now it just consumes him. Astarion loves spending every second he can with you- whether that be reading, cuddling, talking, etc. Maybe another activity could be added to the addendum…

His fangs nip his bottom lip as he tries to snap himself back into reality and not be stuck in the idea of what you would sound like underneath him. It’s especially hard to ignore the fact that he would be the only one who knows what pleasure looks like on your face and in your voice- how your body responds to being teased and worshipped.

“Star! You’re bleeding!”

Shit. I must have bit my lip too hard.

You take your clean napkin and begin to dab away the blood on his lip. The moment your other hand touches his cheek to keep him steady- he feels like he’s melting.

“All better,” you say with a beaming smile.

“Thank you, Darling. I have no idea what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know what he’d do without you,” Tav drunkenly chimes in, Gale facepalms at his wife’s antics, “gosh darn’t- stop spilling your own blood! Worst vampy ever!”

The collective HUSH around the table makes Astarion laugh and Tav looks at him sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“Oh it is more than fine, my very drunk friend,” Astarion teases, “if anything, I think you need more wine.”

Gale groans, “please don’t encourage her.”

Astarion’s spirit became more and more restless the longer the night out continued. This wasn’t his ideal plan for the night, but he had chickened out at the last minute.

He had initially wanted to take you out on a date- today is your birthday and you didn’t want the whole group to know since you don’t love the attention, but Astarion has taken advantage of the opportunity.

He had already given you the flowers he had “just happened” to find earlier that day and you had been over the moon.

Astarion had also ‘purchased’ a gold bracelet for you- the delicate metal was simple with a single malachite heart charm on it. He learned very, very quickly that you believe in all that ‘crystal nonsense’ as Lae’zel puts it. Astarion’s heart glows a little bit when he catches it reflecting candle light off your wrist. You loved the bracelet equally as much and kissed him on the cheek.

While he isn’t necessarily sure he believes in that crystal nonsense, Astarion does believe in you so the Rhodochrosite bracelet you had bought him shortly after you moved in is almost always on his wrist. You explained that it was meant to heal trauma- he later learned that it more specifically helped with sexual trauma. You never elaborated on it or pestered, but the gesture in itself made him feel accepted and safe.

The first night he opened up to you had also been the first time it hit him that he genuinely has feelings for you. Those feelings have grown naturally and Astarion rarely feels the need to put a mask up when he’s around you anymore. Astarion is as ‘messy’ as he wants because you’d already seen through him and you have continued to hold space for him- grounding him in your atmosphere.

You want him too- of course. Whether you have realized that or not yet- Astarion isn’t sure.

You occasionally let him feed from you (if you don’t have to pull an all-nighter for a Tavern gig) and he can taste your desire in your blood. The shyness and lack of advances on your end make more sense now- you are entirely inexperienced.

It’s absolutely delicious and now Astarion is really kicking himself for not asking if you could both skip meeting with your mutual companions to go out together.

Astarion wanted to ask to take you to dinner. He wasn’t quite sure why that was his first thought considering he can’t eat, but he figured he could drink wine while the two of you talked. His next plan of action was to offer his hand to you as you walked home together, maybe read together for a bit, and then he was hoping that you could be, well, intimate with each other. He genuinely wants to be with you that way and he hopes the feeling is mutual, but that you don’t only see him as a sex object.

Astarion breathes a sigh of relief when the group finally decides to leave the tavern. It may not be the night he envisioned, but it’s quickly amended by the walk home. His idle fingers take up the space between yours and you don’t fight the invasion- instead you smile coyly and a Rosie blush paints your cheeks. He wonders what it would feel like to have your hands entangled in his hair as he-

“Astarion?”

His train of thought is interrupted by his name leaving your lips- your brows furrowed in concern.

“Are you okay? I’ve been asking you if you want to continue to read that book together when we get home, but you seem kind of out of it.”

“Oh!” he manages to choke out, “I- of course, Darling- I would love to continue our book. I apologize, I didn’t realize how lost in thought I had become.”

You open the door of the apartment, a look of concern still adorning your face. You are so adorable and wonderful- he wants to kiss the worry off of your face.

You are discarding your shoes at the door while Astarion goes to locate the bottle of wine he had purchased earlier that day. Reading is fun and all, but Astarion has another idea.

Why not use a childish game to move your relationship forward? It’s not like Astarion has ever claimed to be above that and he could easily pass the idea off as wanting to continue having fun.

“That’s not a book,” you tease, eyeballing the bottle of wine suspiciously, “are you attempting to put me in a stupor and on my birthday nonetheless?”

“Darling,” he says with a gasp, his hand splayed across his chest, “how dare you accuse me of such a thing? I’m positively hurt.”

You merely roll your eyes at him, but happily accept the glass he pours you. As you go to sip- he puts his hand over the top of the glass.

“I was thinking we could continue that debaucherous little game we were all playing earlier,” Astarion says with feigned innocence, “what was it called again? Ever have I? Never have I?”

“Never have I ever?”

Astarion tries not to smile too widely at the way your eyes slightly widen at his words and his enthusiastic nod. He wonders if you realize you’ve been caught.

“Yes! Thank you, Darling- that would have driven me to the brink of insanity,” he says with a chuckle, “in the spirit of good fun, you may go first.”

You give him an unamused look before giving in.

“Never have I ever….. been a VAMPIRE!”

“You wretched little-!”

Astarion scowls, pretending to be irritated as he sips his wine. He narrows his eyes at you and feels his chest bloom with feelings of affection as the mischievous glint in your eye grows brighter.

“Never have I ever… lit a bookshelf on fire.”

Your cheeks burn brightly as you leer at him over the top of your glass. The questions continue to be absurd and personal- questions that the others wouldn’t even begin to think about asking.

Never have I ever read this trashy novel, never have I ever been personally victimized by my roommate buying a ‘stay out’ sign, so on and so forth until Astarion finally feels comfortable enough to use the one ‘never have I ever’ that he’s been sitting on since you both arrived at home.

“Never have I ever lied about having sex.”

The look on your face is priceless. Astarion can’t help but let the thrilled little giggle leave his lips as you stammer over your words.

“Uh- I- hmmmmmmmmm,” you gulp the remaining morsels of wine, “how did you… was it that obvious?”

It’s moments like these where he forgets tact and says the first stupid thing that comes to his brain.

“No, I just made a point of watching.”

Shit.

Your lips purse as a look of satisfaction crosses your face. You wiggle your eyebrows at him before pouring yourself a bit more wine.

“Oh is that so?” you tease, “and why ever would you feel the need to do that?”

Cheeky pup.

“Hmmmm,” he hums, sliding closer to you on the couch, “you could say it may align with an interest of mine?”

The words you are about to say die on your tongue when his fingers begin to trail up under your dress- his eyes find yours in an attempt to ask a silent question.

Your eyes are blown wide with lust, need, and adoration. Your body naturally relaxes under his touch and he can already smell the scent of your budding arousal.

“Wh- what kind of interest?” You whisper, looking at him earnestly.

“Well,” Astarion moves until he’s hovering over you on the couch, he begins leaving a trail of sweet kisses along your jaw, “a tactful, brilliant individual such as myself needed to know for research as you are a subject I have yet to study.”

“And if you were?” you stammer, “given the opportunity, I mean?”

Astarion’s route along your jaw stops abruptly as he looks at you- the nervousness in your voice causing him to doubt his assessment of the situation. He’s surprised to see a hopefulness in your gaze- maybe you do just want sex? Maybe that’s all you want from this at all?

Astarion tries to suppress the disappointment that threatens to pull angry words out of his mouth. If this is what he is to you then he supposes he can live with that.

“Naturally we’d be having sex already, my Dear.”

You are searching his face and your lips are pursed in a thin line.

“I haven’t been… intimate with anyone because I want it to be with someone I really care about,” you say softly, “and I really care about you, Astarion. That’s why I want to make sure that this is what you want- that you care about me in this way too.”

Astarion isn’t really sure what to do with that information. He’s sure the blank stare on his face isn’t helping the situation or your nervousness.

A choked sob gets stuck in his throat- you care for him and you are willing to have sex with him because you care for him. It’s not just because you think he’s ‘pretty’ or fell for all his honeyed words.

“This is what I want, Darling,” he returns your words with equal softness, “I want to be with you in every intimate way imaginable.”

A shock overwhelms his body when you sit up and hesitantly press your lips to his, but he rebounds even faster the moment you start to pull away.

Your lips are soft and warm against his. They are even more wonderful than he could ever imagine. Astarion grinds himself into you- noting how perfectly you fit together with him between your legs. The shakey moan and clash of teeth causes him to smile.

Instead of taking control of the situation, he allows you to guide him. Your inexperienced mouth is clumsy with it’s affections as you learn how to intertwine yourself with him.

The touch and act is affectionate and unhurried, curious and innocent. Astarion feels like a giddy virgin himself as he begins to explore the skin hiding underneath your flimsy dress.

Your arousal is already coating the inside of your thighs, your underwear soaked through, and Astarion nearly loses his composure entirely. He wants to let you take this at your pace, but Gods above that is not going to be an easy feat.

His curious hands find purchase on your hips and at the hem of your underwear- his thumbs dipping underneath the fabric to tease you ever so slightly.

It feels like electricity courses through both of you with each moment of skin contact. You’ve laid next to each other, you’ve fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and overall, you’ve developed a friendship with each other.

You feel made for him and he feels made for you.

You have never felt more confident in a decision in your entire life. Your body sparks to life under his touch and you try to push aside the embarrassment you feel with every whimper and moan that leaves your lips.

You want- no need- more. You want to know him and you want him to know you.

You boldly allow your hands to meet his and you begin to discard your already soaked underclothes- Astarion growls against your neck at the action. His hands grab yours- pinning them above your head and you whine in protest.

“Someone’s eager,” he teases, “are you tired of feeling empty, Little Love? Would you like me to ruin you for anyone else?”

You clench around nothing and shake your head ‘yes desperately in response. Astarion clicks his tongue and smiles devilishly.

“That’s not an answer, Darling.”

“Please.”

He lifts an eyebrow expectantly and you huff in frustration- looking away from him. One of his hands guides your eyes back to his and his thumb gently glides along your lower lip, coaxing a needy whimper from you.

You feel so embarrassed- trying to express what you need, but maybe he finds it enduring? Or at least you hope he does.

“Will you please make love to me, Astarion?”

Astarion’s face looks like the definition of happiness as he smiles down upon you- for a creature of the night, he sure is capable of beaming like the sun.

The offending article of clothing is removed and tossed somewhere across the living room as Astarion settles his face in between your legs.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” he says teasingly while nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He takes his sweet time kissing and cleaning up the nectar that coats your legs, your growing need making you more and more impatient as you writhe under his touch. Astarion makes a point of avoiding your wanting heat- tears pricking your eyes as you become more and more overstimulated.

“You are so, so beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, “so beautiful and good.”

“Astarion, please.”

The desperation in your voice pulls a hum of pleasure from Astarion as he presses one more kiss on the inside of your thigh. You open your mouth to beg again- to ask for literally any contact- when you feel his cold tongue lick all the way up your folds, circling your sensitive clit, before latching his lips to the bundle of nerves.

You keen- loudly- at the sudden attention on your clit and Astarion has seemed to quickly find that perfect spot- teasing it with his tongue as your back arches and your hips press into his face.

Astarion’s fingers push your hips down, locking you in place against the couch, and you feel another shudder of arousal go through you when you think about the bruises that are bound to be on your hips in the morning.

Astarion’s expert tongue circles and teases at your clit- occasionally taking a detour to taste you, lapping up every part of your essence.

He feels like he’s starving as he devours you with his tongue- if he could have it his way, he would never stop.

You are so wet for him that the couch underneath you is soaked and your dress surely isn’t much better off. Your moans and whimpers cause his cock to strain painfully against the front of his pants.

He decides to kiss back up your body, ripping open the lacy fabric of your dress. The Gods must be real because it’s a damn miracle that you aren’t wearing a bra.

Thankfully you don’t seem to be too worried about the state of your dress.

Astarion greedily sucks one of your nipples between his teeth while the other is rolled between his thumb and index finger.

He wants to consume you and you want to be consumed.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair and you have his mouth on yours within seconds. His other hand returns to your now neglected breast. You cry out against his mouth with each pinch of his fingers and your pleasure has begun to soak through the front of his own pants. He’s certain he’s created his own mess anyway.

Admittedly, he’s been thinking about playing with your breasts all week. You loudly complained about how sore they felt since your moon blood was coming next week. Astarion has been thinking about every delicious way to massage the soreness away since.

His hips grind into your exposed cunt- snaking one of his hands inbetween the two of you, he begrudgingly replaces the pressure of his clothed cock by sliding a finger inside of you.

He adores how your back arches underneath him and the way his name falls off your lips like a prayer. Your heels are digging into his back and your head is thrown back as you keen with each movement of his finger. Astarion curls his fingers upward and focuses on the perfect spot- your toes curl with the sensation and your moans become higher in pitch.

The second one meets some resistance and he’s almost positive a third finger is going to be needed before you are ready, but you clench around his hips, grabbing his attention.

“Astarion- I need you inside me please,” you beg him.

Whatever resolve he had to make sure you were 100 percent ready has broken with that simple sentence. He’s pulling you up off the couch and into his arms- practically racing to throw you on the bed in his room.

To be entirely honest- Astarion can’t even remember if he was actually wearing any clothes considering how quickly he pulls them off.

Astarion has you laid across his bed- ready and wanting for him. You are positively exquisite.

Your shy eyes and body try to hide from him- your arms coming to cover your breasts and your eyes looking away from him. You are suddenly very aware of the lack of clothing and Astarion- well- he looks like an angel.

You drink in his silhouette while avoiding his eyes and you feel yourself clench around nothing at the sight of his cock- hard and dripping with precum because of you. You. The silly, awkward virgin that has never been in a relationship before.

Eager hands are entangling themselves with yours and Astarion’s suddenly on top of you again with your arms pinned away from your face.

“Look at me.”

The command sends a wave of desire through you- Astarion’s voice is thick with arousal and you forget to breathe when you finally look at him.

Astarion has been all sharp edges and mischief since you’ve met him, but right now?

His eyes are soft and inviting- akin to warm crimson bed sheets rather than blood weeping from a cut. Astarion’s lips are slightly parted as he tries to commit your face to memory. His usually perfect hair is mussed up from all the attention you’ve given it.

“I am certain the Gods have sent you to destroy me,” he murmurs in awe before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “tell me if I need to be more gentle, my Love.”

Astarion lines himself up with your entrance and you wrap your legs around his waist. He gently pushes himself inside of you, giving a little bit more every time until his hips are flush against yours. The further he goes, the more his train of thought disappears.

You feel wonderful and the whimpers that leave your mouth with every inch more he gives you makes him moan loudly into the crook of your neck. He kisses up and along your jaw, praising you for taking him so well.

You have never felt more full in your entire life- it feels… right. Like your body has been made to fit with Astarion’s. The light rocking movement of his hips works to ease the initial discomfort of adjusting to his size, but you already feel like you need more. You want to be lost in this moment with him- you want to know and feel everything.

It’s as if he reads your mind as he pace begins to pick up, his thrusts begin to get longer and more drawn out. The tears that were initially pricking your eyes have disappeared entirely in favor of desperate, borderline embarrassing, wanting moans.

“You feel so incredible, Darling,” Astarion whines as thrusts into you, “you are being so good for me.”

His eyes meet yours and he slows his motions ever so slightly- your body protests at the loss of friction, but Astarion’s lips gently coaxing gasps from yours distracts your body from the lack of motion.

The world surrounding you feels absolutely nonexistent as Astarion kisses you deeply. One of his hands finds purchase in your hair and deepens the kiss even more. You feel as if you could float away from the onslaught of affection as you return his affections with equal fervor.

Astarion pulls himself almost entirely out of you before snapping his hips- rutting himself back into you. Your lips leave his, favoring a shape fit for a breathy cry of pleasure.

He finds your eyes again in the haze of his own euphoria. This is a dream to him- a wonderful, beautiful dream.

“I adore you,” you whisper against his lips.

Astarion smiles giddily.

“And I, you.”

Astarion loses his composure as he picks up his pace again- you clench around him, your already tight heat engulfing him even more with each movement of his hips. Your orgasm runs through you- your legs are shaking around him as your grip around his hips begins to give.

Astarion supports the lower half of your body, groping your ass as he chases his own little death.

“I need you to cum inside me, Astarion,” you say wistfully, “cum for me please.”

That’s all it takes to drive him over the edge entirely- no longer able to hold on anymore as his seed pours inside of you. Astarion buries his face in the crook of your neck as he let’s the feeling of pleasure wash over him.

You smell of sex and your favorite soap, which has coincidentally become his favorite soap, and he sighs happily when you start lazily tracing circles along his shoulders. You’ve done this for him before, in a more clothed setting, but it’s a thousand times better when he’s able to feel all of you against him.

Astarion can’t remember the last time he had sex with someone and felt like he was comfortable in their arms. Honestly, he’s more than comfortable with you and yes, that does terrify him.

He just had the best sexual experience of his life and yet he is still terrified because he doesn’t want you to leave or decide this is all he’s good for.

“Starry?”

He hums in response.

“Are you okay?” you ask in a whisper, “you got really tense just now.”

Astarion is quick to look at you when you ask that question. Your eyes are curious and your brow is furrowed. He really can’t hide anything from you. Astarion rolls over onto his back- not wanting you to see how scared and already heartbroken he is. He honestly isn’t sure what he would do if he stopped meaning anything to you- anything of value anyway.

“I… I don’t want…,” he struggles to get the words out, “I- this has been probably the single best sexual escapade that I have ever had, my Love. My only hope is that… you don’t only see me for, well, sex after tonight.”

He’s surprised when you crawl over to him, straddle him, and then put his face between your hands. The serious look in your eyes worries him- did he upset you? Offend you? Are you going to-

“I want you to throw that thought away right now and if you can’t- then I will assure you everyday before it goes away,” you say firmly, “I’ve fallen for you- all of you- over these several months. I think you are the smartest, most interesting, and funniest man I have ever met. I look forward to coming home to you and I hate leaving in the mornings.

“I… you are all I have ever wanted out of a partner or even just a person, Astarion. I choose you- I choose you everyday- in whatever way you’ll have me.”

All Astarion does is cry in response. He doesn’t mean to and of course he wishes he would stop.

I’ve known you for 200 years. Haven’t I suffered enough?

I choose you- I choose you everyday.

You hold him while he cries and Astarion lets himself soak up the feeling of safety- truly believing it this time. You want him for him and you will never know how much that means, but Astarion always will.

When he’s done crying, he kisses you gently sitting you both up against the headboard with you still on his lap. Astarion runs circles into your thighs as you lay your head on his chest and his head rests against yours. You remain there together for a while before you finally break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it Star?”

Astarion thinks for a moment.

“I- no,” he says hesitantly, “not right now- I just want to enjoy this moment with you, my Dear.”

You hum in response and then look around the room. Your eyes spot something that causes you to sport the cheekiest grin Astarion has ever seen.

“You didn’t finish your wine.”

He looks over and then back to you with an eyebrow raised.

“I suppose I did not. Why-“

“Never have I ever had sex with someone on their birthday.”

A pregnant pause envelopes the space between you- Astarion blinks at you a few times in astonishment and then reaches for the wine glass- a loving smile on his face.

He’s grateful- you never push him and you don’t force him to continue talking about difficult subjects once he’s calmed down. Perhaps he’s even more grateful that he may be able to spend a lifetime with you, if he plays his cards right. Gods, he hopes he plays his cards right. Astarion is not much of a planner after all.

“You’re lucky I adore you.”

“I know.”

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Can we get a little 12 or 14 blurb from the clumsy prompt ☺️

number 14 for you lovely! “Hearing a crash or bang in the house and their partner isn’t in sight, cue immediate panic mode. meanwhile their partner just calls out casually that they’re okay or that something fell.”

There was a thump, a startling loud one, from upstairs.

Steve froze, eyes flickering upwards and his body tensing. Silence followed and the boy immediately dropped the spoon he’d been using to stir the macaroni, his shoulder colliding with the door frame in his haste to run to the stairs. His socked feet slipped on the floorboards, his brows knitted together in concern and as he reached the bottom of the steps, he called out, voice strained.

“Babe?”

He heard a small groan and some shuffling, his hand on the railing as he prepared himself to bolt up but your voice followed, suspiciously light and airy.

“It’s fine!” You called down to him. “Something just fell.”

Steve blew a breath from his nose, one eye twitching because he knew this, he knew you, but you were talking at least and that counted for something. His free hand went to his hip and if you’d seen him, you would have definitely called him a mother hen.

“Yeah?” He replied mildly. “Something fell?”

“Uhuh,” you shouted back. Something else clattered to the floor and Steve heard you swear under your breath.

He couldn’t see you from his position at the bottom of the stairs, but he could imagine your twisted pout, your pinched brows.

“Was it you?” Steve yelled.

A pause, a quiet bubble. He heard you sigh, long suffering and exasperated, a sign of you giving in. “Yeah,” you warbled, sounding incredibly mournful about your admission. “Yeah, it was me.”

Steve didn’t know if he should laugh or lecture you, so he just took the stairs two at a time instead. “You okay?” He asked as he made his way to the bedroom. He could see your shadow move under the door frame, so at least you had use of your legs. “You’re not bleeding, right?”

“God, I hope not,” you cracked. “M’wearing my favourite shirt— oh, hey.” Steve opened the door to you on the floor, crawling on your hands and knees you made a weak attempt to sweep up the fallen books.

“That’s my shirt,” Steve commented as he looked down at you.

You huffed, looking a little too warm and unharmed. No blood, no severed limbs. “I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you shot back, “I said it was my favourite.”

Steve snorted and held out his hands, grinning when you slapped your palms to his. He hauled you up, gentle as he examined you. No broken bones, no unfocused eyes.

“What did you do this time?” He murmured, taking your chin between a finger and thumb, tilting your head this way and that, checking for injuries. “Hmm? Apart from give me a damn heart attack.”

You frowned at the accusation, nipping at Steve’s fingers in response. “Couldn’t reach the top shelf,” you confessed. “Turns out I’m not eight foot tall and those shelves aren’t that strong.”

Steve gasped, all dramatic and faux surprise. “No way,” he whispered. “Who knew?”

You pulled a face, tucking your head into the crook of Steve’s neck and sighing. “Not me,” you mumbled against his throat, body going slack when the boy’s hands smoothed over the planes of your shoulders.

“Did know you have a boyfriend with much longer arms than you?” Steve mused. “He even played basketball.”

You grinned, pulling back from his embrace with a gasp as dramatic as Steve’s. “Oh my god, professionally?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at you, an almost glare except his lips were lifting into a smile despite how hard he fought it. “Yeah, you seem fine,” he mused, nose nudging yours.

“I’ll still take a kiss,” you told him, grinning. “For medical purposes.”

And how could Steve say no to that? He wasn’t cruel.

[munsoninthedark86]

Looks That Kill(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

word count: 0.7k  warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is 18+, having sex in school, slight degradation, pet names 

The wet sounds of your skin slapping together is all that can be heard in the room. You showed up at least an hour earlier for the usual Hellfire Club meeting, but you were the new member. You had never played D&D, but you were interested in learning. More than anything, you were interested in Eddie. You’ve always liked him, but you were ready to finally make your move. And boy, did you ever make your move.

You had decided to wear something a little more sexy with your Hellfire shirt tonight. A plaid skirt with fishnet tights underneath. The very ones that Eddie tore a hole in so he could get to your little pussy a little quicker than stripping you.

“I knew you were a little slut,” Eddie teases as he continues to thrust into you. “You were just giving me those eyes, baby. I can see it.”

You grip onto him tighter, moaning as the tip of his cock keeps hitting your sweet spot. You swear, you’re seeing stars. Neither of you are supposed to be doing this here. You were in school, at the Hellfire club meeting room, and Eddie fuckin’ Munson is fucking you against the wall. His mouth is so hot and wet against the tender flesh of your neck.

“Eddie,” you whine as he bites down. “Fuck please,”

He chuckles against your skin, and you let out another whine as he pumps into you even harder. He knows the two of you should be a little more quiet. He knows that he shouldn’t even be chancing this. If he were to get caught, he would be so sure that he would never be able to graduate. But when he saw you coming in, and you were an hour early, he found it impossible to ignore you.

“I love it when you beg for me like that. I want you to beg me like that every time I fuck you,” Eddie tells you. “Got it?”

You try to reply to him, but it’s so hard when your orgasm is building so quickly. Only these soft moans and pants fall from your lips, but this makes Eddie a little annoyed. He wants to hear you say that you’ll beg for it next time he fucks you.

Another bite, this time down on your bottom lip. You squeal in surprise, and your orgasm becomes even more imminent. Eddie growls this time, pressing you further against the wall. It’s so sticky and wet between the two of you. You can’t help that you’re shuddering and shaking. You can’t help that the way his cock keeps brushing up against your sweet spot, it’s making you unable to properly form sentences.

Eddie smirks, “I’m fuckin’ you stupid, aren’t I?” This makes you nod finally.

“That’s my good girl. You’re going to be all mine and beg me for it every time, right?”

“Yes! Yes!” You cry out as your orgasm washes over you. Eddie isn’t sure if you’re replying to him or if you’re just moaning in ecstasy, but he’ll take it.

“Tightest little pussy I’ve ever had,” He grunts as he picks up the pace. His balls feel so tight. It’s been a long time since he got laid, and to fuck you like this is even better than anything he’s ever experienced.

You tug on his hair and pull him in for a very sloppy kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth, making you both moan. Your tongues rub together in a heated moment before he pulls away.

“Cum in me, Eddie. Please Eddie,” there you fuckin’ go again. Begging him. It’s driving him fuckin’ crazy.

He doesn’t have time to reply before his hips stutter and his thrusts become even sloppier. Waves of pleasure wash over him, and a warmth spills deep inside of you. He pumps his hips in time with every spurt of thick cum he pumps into you. Loud grunts fall from his lips from the immense pleasure. Finally, with one final thrust, he presses himself into you even deeper and kisses your red, swollen lips.

“You better answer me for real this time, sweetheart.” He nips at your bottom lip once more. “You going to be my girl and beg me every time we fuck, or what?”

You look into his beautiful eyes, “I promise. I’m your girl. I’ll always beg you.”

“Good girl. Now, let’s get cleaned up before the guys get here.”